#uhhhh how do I want to organize this lmao

[gojorgeous]

"sure thing"

pairing: target!gojo x assassin!fem!reader summary: you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, darkish content (all is well in the end), no established relationship, assassins/organized crime, blackmail, mention of a “suicide mission”, attempted murder (uhhhh), hidden identity, intended use of sex as a means to an end, mating press, unprotected sex, p->v, creampie, oral (fem!receiving), praise, pet names (gorgeous/sweetheart/baby), slight aftercare. a/n: me 🤝 describing gojo as having dimples welcome to my second 1k followers event fic! At this rate tho i’m going to hit 2k before i finish the 1k event LMAO. not that i'm complaining hehe. thank you for being patient and for all the support on my recent works! i really appreciate every ask, comment, follow, reblog, everything. they mean the world to me. check out the rest of my 1k event here. enjoy and remember that ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! creds: twitter template by @cafekitsune wc: 7.8k

“Who?!” 

No fucking way. There’s no way he just said what you think he said. 

“You heard me,” he scowls. He glares at you from across the desk. His seat is one of those cushy little office chairs, of course. Yours is plastic– cold and hard.

“Are you fucking insane?” you hiss. There’s no other explanation for what he’s asking you to do. He’s lost his fucking mind. 

“We have a client willing to pay big money for this. Big money for just an attempt,” he answers. 

You laugh, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Probably because he’s practically invincible. I’ll never even lay a hand on him.” 

Your “boss”, for lack of a better term, only scowls harder, the wrinkles forming near his eyes etching deeper in his skin. “Well, you’d best find a way to make it work. You’re taking this job. That’s final.” You scoff. Maybe you should recommend he see someone… “No. There’s no way. I’m not doing this.” You stand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Get someone else to go on your suicide mission.” You take a couple strides toward the door before two very large men move to block your path. 

“Not so fast,” your boss calls. You pause, eyeing up your competition. You could definitely take them if you needed to. You sense only a very faint amount of cursed energy coming from each of them– not even enough to make you blink– but something in your boss’s tone makes you turn back. 

“Yes?” You cross your arms over your chest, fingering a blade hidden in your breast pocket. 

He fiddles around in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up right there in his office. You don’t try to hide the way your nose scrunches up. “You want to do this job.” 

Your eyes narrow. Something tells you you’re not going to like what comes next. “And why’s that?” 

He takes a long puff, letting the smoke flowing out of his lungs with a slow exhale. “Because otherwise that little brother of yours is gonna be…” he pauses to give you a smile that makes your stomach churn. “Hmm… a lot smaller, shall we say? Maybe in several limb sized pieces?”

You think your heart stops. Time halts as ice runs through your veins. Nobody knows about your brother. At least, they didn’t. 

Your boss’s smile grows even wider. In all your time as an assassin, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more. But you know you can’t. Just an attempt on his life will end your brother’s. 

“Don’t worry. He’s all tucked away and safe at home where you left him.” Just a tiny piece of your heart thaws with relief. “But try to run with him, or run yourself, and he won’t be safe much longer.” Your pulse pounds so viciously you’re sure everyone can hear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck. “Now, will you accept the assignment?” 

Your jaw clenches. He got you. In all these years of working for him you’ve been careful, meticulous about hiding every piece of your personal life to avoid situations just like this. But he still got you. He got you. 

“Yes,” you breathe. You have no choice. You will either kill Satoru Gojo or you will die trying. 

“Good,” is all he says, and then you’re being escorted out of the office wondering where the hell you went wrong. 

~

It’s been three weeks since that fateful meeting with your boss. True to his word, your brother has remained unharmed, but you see his lackeys lurking around every corner. Neither you nor your brother are truly safe and you never will be again unless you can pull this off and then put together some plan to escape your boss’s clutches. 

You’ll fail. You know you will. The thought eats you up inside with every waking moment. 

You’ve done your best to learn every possible piece of information about Satoru Gojo in the past two weeks. You know you can’t tail him closely– he’d pick up on your cursed energy and notice your incessant presence, so you’ve had to study from a distance with only minimal moments of proximity. You know where he works, who he works with, what restaurants, bars, and clubs he frequents and what days of the week he tends to visit. You know what his order is at his favorite ramen restaurant, where he lives, what time he wakes up. Hell, you know what fucking brand of dish soap he uses. He lives a surprisingly… predictable lifestyle. He makes no attempt to switch up his schedule or cover his tracks. In any other situation he’d be every assassin’s dream, but this is Satoru Gojo and Satoru Gojo doesn’t need to worry about assassins– assassins need to worry about him.

It took you the first week to come up with a plan. You had no clue how you were going to get close to him, much less kill him, and his infinity technique was going to prove particularly problematic. How were you supposed to kill him when you couldn’t even touch him? You had to get him in a situation in which he would willingly let his guard down for you. 

You’d been on the subway when it hit you. Sex. You’d get him to have sex with you. If you could get him to take you home, he’d have to turn infinity off for at least a short time. That would be your time to strike. 

You’d spent the next two weeks primping yourself. You’d bought the most expensive dress you’d ever owned, got a mani-pedi, whitened your teeth, and spent a small fortune on makeup. Considering your circumstances, you thought your plan was quite a good one. You knew when he’d go out to the bar with his friends, which bar he’d go to, how long he’d stay, how he’d get a taxi home. You also knew when you’d arrive, how long you’d stay, and how you’d get a taxi with him– everything planned perfectly to best catch his attention. But for all your planning, there was still one thing you didn’t know. What kind of woman did Satoru Gojo go for? Someone submissive? Teasing? Aggressive? Playful? In all your time tracking him you’d never seen him take somebody home. It struck you as… odd. He was Satoru Gojo, renowned for his power, wealth, and good looks– surely he had women falling at his feet. Maybe he was just a little more… selective. If that was the case you’d have to be even quicker on your feet when you finally met him. And that time is now. 

You’re in your bathroom, checking your makeup one last time before heading out the door. Your brother sleeps soundly in the room down the hall, safe for the time being. You’ve contacted a friend, one who is at least willing to try to get him out if– when– you fail. You doubt it will be enough.

You make your way to his room. A quick peek inside reveals he’s snuggled up with a plushie elephant that he carries around like they’re attached at the hip. You creep inside, a sad smile on your lips. This may very well be the last time you see him. You brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the crown of his head. With one last whispered ‘I love you’, you’re out the door. If you linger, you won’t be able to go– and you have to. For him. 

The streets of Tokyo are cold tonight, like the weather knows what you’re about to attempt, like it’s preparing for death, for failure. For your failure.

The club you arrive at is upscale, and one where you’ve already tipped off the bouncer to let you bypass the line. You hear a few groans from the people behind you as you saunter straight inside. 

You’re conscious of every little move from the second you step inside. At any moment, he could see you and it could make or break your entire plan.

You press your shoulders back. You have a plan– stick to it. 

You make your way over to the bar, weaving your way between groups of people who are somewhere between giggling a little too loudly and tripping over their own feet. 

You find a free space at the bar and lean up onto your elbows, your eyes screening the bartenders. You smile when you see a familiar face. 

“Hey, Dean,” you call.

He turns and the sight of his friendly green eyes sets you a little more at ease. 

“Oh, shit. Hey!” He slings a towel over his shoulder and comes to stand across from you. “You’re back,” he says. You nod and smile softly. Ever since you’d determined this would be the place you’d been coming periodically, chatting up the bartenders. The last thing you needed was to stand around in a corner alone with seemingly no friends. That wouldn’t attract anyone, much less Satoru Gojo. 

Out of all the bartenders, Dean was your favorite– and you’d been oh so happy to learn that his schedule put him on every Friday night. 

“Yeah. Long day at work.” 

A smile pulls at his lips, but there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “The usual, then?” 

You nod solemnly. “That’d be great. Thanks.” 

You watch him prepare the drink for you, feeling a little bad that it’s all a lie. There’s no bad day at work, you didn’t just happen to come in here one day and strike up a conversation with him. All of this is premeditated, planned, and it feels… lonely. It feels lonely to know that on what is probably your last night on earth you are surrounded by people who only think they know you. 

“So, anything new happening?” Dean drops your drink in front of you and you have a feeling it’s filled with a little more vodka than he’s supposed to put in there. 

Your eyes shift around the bar as subtly as you can manage. As much as you want to seem like you fit in, you also need to find Gojo. It’s a fine balance. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess I just feel like a lot of things are going to be changing for me pretty soon.” 

His brows pull together and the look he gives you is one of genuine interest and concern. It makes your heart wrench. “How so?” 

You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”

There’s a moment of silence and then the tapping of a finger on your glass. “Damn, girl. Drink up. You need it.” 

You can’t help but smile. You have a feeling that Dean would have been a good friend of yours in another life. 

You take his advice, though, and bring your drink to your lips and force a smile. You can’t be moping– not tonight. 

The next twenty minutes are spent with Dean. Even when he’s making other drinks he’s still chatting with you, still being a good… friend. You dread leaving your little haven at the bar. The time is coming when you’ll have to seek out your target.

You’re shocked when it’s the other way around. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” There’s a light brush on your shoulder and you turn. It takes all you have to keep your features schooled and calm. Satoru fucking Gojo just tapped your shoulder. 

Nothing prepared you for how handsome he is up close. All those days of research, of tracking and tailing– none of it does the real thing justice. Even with those stupid sunglasses inside… he’s fucking beautiful. “I’ll pay for all of your drinks tonight if you let me skip this hideous line,” he whines. 

You give yourself no more than a second to recover. You school your features into a smirk. You glance at Dean with an ‘is this okay?’ look. He just smiles and shrugs. 

You turn back to Gojo, bracing yourself this time for the beauty you’re about to face. You meet his gaze and know you could get lost in it. “Be my guest.” 

His smile nearly blinds you and his dimples nearly make you pass out. Still, you keep your cool. 

“Yesssss!” He looks like a puppy just offered a bone. 

He spills his drink order to Dean and it’s far more than could possibly be just for him. He’s here with his friends, then. Probably the blonde man who always looks too tired to be here and the girl with the brown hair who always seems like she’s just along for the ride. 

You bite your lip to hide a laugh when he orders himself two strawberry daiquiris. Somehow you still catch his attention. 

“What?” he pouts. You can’t help but feel a small stirring of surprise in your gut. He’s far more… relaxed than you’d expected him to be. He’s almost… childish? 

You press your lips together and shake your head. You’ve reached the point where your research can’t take you any further. From this point on, it’s up to you to discover what Satoru Gojo likes in a woman. 

You debate how to answer. Play coy? Tease him? Stay silent? Any option could be as correct as the next. You didn’t know where to start… so maybe you’d just start by being yourself. 

“Just, um… not the order I was expecting,” you laugh. It’s halfway genuine. With the way he’s acting, it’s hard to remember that he’s the most powerful man alive. 

His pout only intensifies. “Well, what’s your order?” 

His question is answered when Dean sets another cosmopolitan in front of you. You laugh. “Never said I was judging, just that it wasn’t what I expected.” 

Another smile tugs at his lips and something stirs in your gut that you try your very hardest to ignore. This was a job. There was no room for actually enjoying it. This man was probably going to kill you later, in a matter of hours. 

There’s a beat of silence, and then a slight shift in his demeanor. He leans closer and you see a twitch of his lips. Your heart jumps. 

“You’re a sorcerer,” he says. 

You hold back an exhale of relief. You thought he might be onto you. If he is, he’s choosing not to reveal it yet. 

You nod and take what you hope is a casual sip of your drink. “And you’re Satoru Gojo.” 

A brow arches high enough for you to see it over his sunglasses. “You know who I am?” 

You force a chuckle, smirking despite the pounding of your heart. “Who doesn’t?” 

You’d decided long ago to tell him that you knew exactly who he was. It would seem more suspicious for a fellow sorcerer to have no idea what the Satoru Gojo looked like. 

He flashes you a smile full of white and stupidly fucking perfect teeth. “That’s true, heh.” You press your lips together to avoid a smile. Not too humble, then… 

“So, what’s your technique” 

You shoot him a glance that questions his sanity. Asking a sorcerer what their technique is… is personal. It’s not information you give out to a rando at the bar– even if it is Satoru Gojo.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You take another sip of your drink, trying your hardest to remain somewhere on the border or interested and casual. 

“Bet I could find out.” 

That makes you turn fully, angling your body toward his. “Oh yeah? You challenging me to a fight?” You smirk and shake your head. “I’ll pass.” 

He pouts again, but you see a hint of a smile peeking through. “Aw, come on. That’s no fun…” 

You chuckle and take another sip of your drink. You’re not sure you’re sipping just for appearances anymore. You think you probably just need a little liquid courage to see this thing through. “Sorry. I value my life.” 

You watch as he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, just enough for you to get a glimpse of what’s behind. You nearly choke again and this time you don’t manage to hide your nervous swallow when he smirks. 

“You’re so sure you’d lose?” His voice is teasing now and you hate that it’s actually having an effect on you. Job, job, job, just a job… 

You clear your throat. “I like to think I’m not stupid enough to think that I could win.” 

His eyes are blue– so fucking blue– and you feel like he’s seeing straight into your soul. Can he see? Can he see your filthy intentions? Your plotting? The rottenness of what you’re going to do? “What if I promise to take it real easy on you?” 

Your drink is forgotten now. You’re lost in what he’s saying– in him. “No thanks.” Your voice is growing lower and you feel like there’s some magnet forcing you to lean into him, to seek his warmth. 

“So you like it rough, then.” The trance is broken and your blood runs hot. Holy shit. This man is flirting with you and you hardly even had to try. He's trying to take you home. Little does he know, you’re a sure thing. 

You watch as he throws back the rest of his strawberry daiquiri with a pleased “ahhh” at the end. When he turns back to you his eyes have a certain spark in them that makes your thighs press together. “You wanna dance with me?” 

Fuck. This is going too well to be real. But you’re not about to pass up a good deal. 

“What about your friends?” you ask and eye the several untouched drinks still left on the bar. It’s risky– giving him an out, but you can’t seem too eager.

He follows your gaze only to bounce his eyes straight back to you. “I’m sure they’ll get a look at ya and understand.” 

The smirk he’s giving you is making electricity shoot straight between your legs. Damn. You really wish you didn’t have to kill him– or at least try to. 

When he extends his hand you only hesitate for a second. Your heart leaps when you feel his skin on yours, knowing he’s let infinity down. He pulls you onto the dancefloor and it’s not long before he’s running his hands all over you– groping your ass, pinching your thighs, nipping at your neck. Pretty soon the dancefloor evolves to a dark corner of the club with his lips on yours and goddamn he’s a good kisser. You’ve got your fingers in his hair and his hand way too close to your boobs when he whispers those fateful words– “let’s get out of here.”

You can only hide your swallow and nod before he’s pulling you through the crowd, leaving the club behind. He hauls you both into the backseat of a taxi and the door’s barely closed before he’s all over you again. You think you hear the taxi driver mutter something about ‘staining the seats’ but you’re too far gone to give a shit. 

Fuck, he feels good. He’s kisses you like he’s starved and your lips are the fountain of fucking life, like he’s never felt something so good and now he can’t get enough. And, god, he’s handsy. You’re forever grateful to your past self for discreetly hiding your blade in your bra– he would have felt a holster on your thigh at least ten times over by now. 

He groans when you arrive at what you know is his apartment building, though you don’t let on that you recognize the place in the slightest. The look on his face makes you think he’s feeling actual physical pain at the prospect of having to peel away from you for even a second. Nonetheless, he tosses a wad of cash at the taxi driver and pulls you straight inside.

He can’t even wait for the elevator to come, groping your waist right there in the lobby and then when the elevator finally does come, shoving you up against the metal wall a licking stripe across your collarbone. 

You can’t deny how nice it feels to be so desperately… wanted. Never once has a man made you feel this way– so consumed by him, him, him. Once again you curse the universe that you’re here with a mission other than getting laid. 

You find yourself giggling when he pulls you out of the elevator and presses his palm to a fucking scanner to get into his apartment. You try to pull yourself together, but when he laughs with you, you can’t help but melt into him a little more.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he’s got you up against another wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. His sunglasses are long gone and you pull at his shirt, popping the buttons straight off the fabric until you slide the shirt down his shoulders and onto the floor.

“That was Versace,” he whines. 

You plaster your lips to his. “I don’t care.” All he does is chuckle. 

“So gorgeous…” he breathes and your head slumps back against the wall, giving him better access to the soft skin of your neck. Any minute now. Any minute he’s going to start stripping your clothes off and you’re going to have to let this charade crumble. You don’t want to. He’s practically worshiping you. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, and you don’t want it to end. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and suddenly you’re moving again– moving, moving, moving until your back is bouncing against the softness of a mattress and you’re fucking giggling again like a lovesick idiot. Maybe you’d had a few too many sips of those cosmopolitans. 

He’s smiling as he crawls over you and the sight makes your heart flutter with both lust and terror. Lust because he’s so fucking beautiful and terror because you know that any moment now you’re going to attempt to end that beauty forever. 

A lump forms in your throat and you try unsuccessfully to swallow it. You have to do this, have to try. There’s no other way, no other option. Not for you.

Your thoughts must not have been as perfectly concealed as you’d thought because he quirks a brow. “Something goin’ on up here?” His lips slide across your temple in a touch that feels far too tender for a hookup. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll fit.” He snickers at his own joke before burying himself in your neck. His hand slides down your side, pressing you up into him until you can feel every curve and cut of his muscles. 

You bite your lip. You’ve already slipped enough for him to notice your nerves– you can’t let it happen again. You have to do it soon. Now. As soon as you see an opportunity you have to strike. You have to. 

You arch up into him, scratching your fingers down his back, trying to seem as invested in the moment as you can. He gets greedier, leaving open-mouthed kiss down your neck, across your collarbone. You nearly freeze up when he kisses low into the valley of your breasts– as low as your dress allows. Then he moves over your clothes, kissing down your stomach as his hands rub your thighs. 

Now. Now, while he’s not looking.

You slide a hand into his hair and another up to your chest, trying to play it off like you’re touching yourself. You sneak your fingers into your bra, feeling the cool metal of your blade glide across your thumb. Now. 

You fist your fingers in his hair, holding his head down as best you can while you arc the blade toward his neck. Just one good hit, please… 

You think you’re going to strike true– you’re so close– and then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, stalling your attack just as it was about to land. 

Fuck. 

He doesn’t look up right away, but you hear him sigh, feel his hot breath fanning over your thighs and stomach. When he finally does look up it’s with the eyes of a teacher who’s disappointed his student didn’t do their homework. 

“Come on now, baby. I was really hoping you’d forget about all this and we could just have a good night together…” He’s pouting, whining, like a child who’s been told he can’t have dessert before dinner. Your shock stills you long enough that he easily maneuvers the blade from your hand, throwing it with a thwack into the wall to his right. It lands perfectly. 

This is it. You’re going to die now. But not without a fight. 

You spring up from the bed, kicking him a couple times in the process. You’ve missed your only chance. Now, if there’s even the slightest chance of escape, you have to take it. 

You bare feet hit the carpet. No time to find your shoes. You dart for the door and hear him groan behind you. For a second you think you might actually make it, but you should know better. 

He appears in front of you, straight out of fucking thin air, and his pout has transformed into something a little more sinister. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s talk it out, yeah?” 

You take a shaky step back, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you. It’s over. 

You swallow and lift your chin– you at least want to die with a little dignity. “Just make it quick. Please.” 

He sighs again and slides his hands in his fucking pockets, like this is just a stroll down the street. He stalks toward you, forcing you back until you’re pressed up against another wall. This motherfucker really likes walls. 

His pout shifts to a smirk that borders far too closely on a grin. “Oh, no. I’ve always had a thing for taking it slow.” 

You nearly snort. He certainly hadn’t had a thing for taking it slow just a minute ago. His arms cage you and your world grows infinitely smaller until it’s just him and those blue-ass eyes staring you down. Some distant part of you thinks you might not mind if it’s the last thing you ever see. 

“Damn, I really thought you might give it up and just let me fuck you,” his pout returns. “So disappointing…” he sighs. 

Your lips part. “You knew?” 

That lights his face up like a Christmas tree. “Sensed you tailing me these past few weeks. Started on theeeee– 21st, no?” 

Fuck. You’d been so careful. You’d only tailed him in public spaces, where your energy would be more diluted by the crowds. You’d stayed far enough away that he should only have caught mere glimpses of you, even suppressed your energy. He should not have been able to sense you. But he was Satoru Gojo– things people were not supposed to be able to do came easily to him. 

But you have one thing on him. 

“The 18th,” you whisper. “Started on the 18th.”

There’s a beat of silence and then his smile is growing wider, wider, wider, until it’s practically blinding you. “Well, shit,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good.” 

You let a tiny smile slip through your terror. “I try.” 

His eyes travel up and down your body, his pout slipping away to a frown. “What to do with you… hmm…” You lift your chin, taking shallow little breaths through your nose. You’re looking death in the face, but you’d never thought it would be so beautiful. He sighs. “I guess I could let you go.” 

You freeze. He notices. 

He quirks a brow, another smirk sliding across his lips. “What? Didn’t think that was an option?” You stay silent. No way he’ll let you go. It’s a bluff. A cruel trick. “It’s not like you could try again, gorgeous. I know your energy now and what you look like. Sorry, but your chance is gone.” That was fine by you. Your breaths come a little heavier, hope pulsing in your veins. “But–” shit. “Letting you go is so… boring. Especially after where we left off, yeah?” 

Your jaw drops. “You cannot seriously be suggesting that we–” 

He cuts you off with a kiss, one that makes your toes curl in the carpet and your stomach clench in anticipation. 

“Oh, yes I am,” he chuckles. You feel his hand sliding down your hip, cool and calculating. “I know you weren’t faking the whole thing, gorgeous. Nobody makes out like that when they’re faking it.” You feel your cheeks heat. “And nobody gets this wet-” his fingers snake beneath your skirt, pressing to the wet patch on your panties. “When they’re faking it.” You gasp and reach out, hands clasping onto his shoulders for support. He only chuckles. “No worries, gorgeous. No need for any more faking tonight. I’ll make sure it’s all real.” 

Somehow you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist again and you’re headed to the bedroom– again. It’s like a replay– a redo. 

“Let’s keep it less killy this time, yeah?” 

Your back hits the mattress, your body bouncing lightly on its softness before he’s crawling after you. It’s simultaneously the best and worst deja vu you’ve ever experienced. 

His hands slide down your body again, fingertips hooking beneath the hem of your skirt and shimmying it up your thighs until your panties are on full display. 

“Shit,” you breathe. He’s moving so fast, like he’s desperate to go further, to get his greedy hands all over your bare skin. 

You can’t say you blame him. You feel the same.

His thumbs hook under the fabric of your panties and you know it’s over for you. You can feel his warm breath skating across your thighs, feel the calluses on his hands scraping against your skin. You reach a hand down, tangling it in his hair, and you nearly faint when he smirks and looks up at you with those blue fucking eyes. 

“I think I’ve seen this film before, sweetheart.” He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. “No more knives hiding anywhere, yeah?” 

You clench your jaw, trying to control your pounding heart. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Why are you doing this? You wish you had a better answer than he’s beautiful and sexy and just a glance at him makes you want to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree. 

“Silent, hm? Guess I’ll just have to check myself…” 

He’s pressing up the hem up your skirt, more, more, more, until he’s pulling your dress straight up over your arms and running his hands down your bare sides. 

“None there…” His fingers cup your breast and you gasp, unable to contain your shock and the jolt that just rushed through you. He traces the outline of your bra. “You had the last one in here, no?” Your chest heaves under his touch, pressing the flesh of your breast up into his fingers. He smirks. “Best check again.” You feel an arm slide beneath you back and then your bra loosens before it’s completely gone. 

There’s a beat of silence, of admiration. He gazes down on you and you see his snark falter for just a moment, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. It makes your skin heat. His fingers brush the swell of your breasts, thumb trailing down over a nipple. You arch and gasp again. 

“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.” 

He chuckles and the sound washes over you until it settles in your bones. “Sush. I’m not done checking for weapons yet.” 

You scowl but before you can even move to open your mouth he’s sliding your panties down your legs, hooking them around your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you watch him settle himself down between your thighs, eyes never once leaving your center. “Don’t see any knives here, either, but maybe I should double-check…” he breathes. 

He hooks your legs over his shoulders and you shudder, your breaths shaky. Fuck. You were supposed to kill him tonight but if he keeps going like this you’ll be the one deceased. 

He meets your eyes when he takes the first long lick along your folds. You swear he’s smirking.

Your head rolls back and a pathetic sounding groan slips past your lips. You hadn’t realized how much he’d worked you up. Just the slightest touch feels like heaven.

His tongue nudges at your clits and your legs clench, tightening around his head. He laughs into your cunt and his warm breath skates up and over your tummy. Your fingernails scrape his scalp.

“I think you like this, gorgeous.” 

Each word sends little puffs of air against your folds. It’s driving you crazy. You stare down at him, letting a smirk pull at your lips. Your eyes dart over his mouth, wet with your slick, and you don’t fail to notice the way he’s struggling to hold your gaze, eyes flickering back down to your cunt every second. Your smirk grows. “I think you’re liking this, too.” 

He licks another stripe, from you pulsing hole to your throbbing clit, and this time he’s the one groaning. “Damn right I am.”

He eats you out like he kisses you– like a starved man, like he’ll die if he stops for just one second, like he can’t live without your juices on his tongue. 

You whine and bury both hands in his hair, tugging desperately when his lips wrap around you clit and suck. It’s so much, too much, and yet it’s just right. 

Your hips buck and squirm, but he’s got his fingers pressed deep into your flesh, holding you down to take whatever he gives. You think you see heaven when he slides two fingers into your walls, curling them into that gummy spot that has an unbearable heat building deep inside you. 

“S-Satoru-” you stutter and you hear him moan and mutter into your cunt like he’s unwilling to leave it for even a second.

“Fuck, yes. Say my name, sweetheart.” Who are you to deny him? You whisper, whine, and whimper his name with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue. It’s delicious. Every so often he swaps his mouth and hand, thrusting his tongue as deep inside you as he can while his fingers rub dangerous little circles on your clit. Whenever things get a little too filthy he laps his tongue across your entire cunt and along your inner thighs, cleaning up every stray drop. You don’t know how much longer you can last under such a complete and total assault. 

“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna-” He licks a thick stripe through your folds that makes your sentence end in a whine, his lips settling to suckle on your clit again.

God, it’s messy. It’s fucking disgusting. His whole chin is covered in spit and slick– and you love it. “Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. 

You don’t need to hear much more. You let the heat inside you release with a whine, thighs trembling on his shoulders. Your walls pulse and throb around his fingers, sucking him in and never wanting him to leave. His tongue continues to rub lazy circles around your clit, working you through your high and making it last so long you think you might pass out.

Warmth spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and your muscles tense and clench with each pulsing throb. You swear to god you see fucking stars.

It seems to go on forever, leaving you limp and shaking when the last waves finally slip away. 

He presses a final kiss to your clit, one that makes your hips jolt from the overstimulation before he’s lifting himself up. “Wow. That looked like a big one,” he chuckles. He runs a soothing hand along your thigh and you don’t even have the energy to give him some sort of snarky reply. There’s hardly even a pause before something shifts in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can get one that’s even bigger, yeah?” 

Before you can even process what he’s said you feel strong hands slide under your thighs, pressing them tightly to your chest as he settles himself close to you

You grasp at the sheets, hearing the clinking of a belt buckle and then the familiar pitch of a zipper being undone. 

“Fuck,” you mutter. He’s big. Long and pretty and with a perfectly flushed tip. Your eyes are rolling back just thinking about having him inside you.

A strong hand smooths along your thighs, folding you in a way that feels more vulnerable and exposing than anything you’ve ever done before. He pauses for a beat, just staring down at you silently.

“Gorgeous,” he finally mutters, and something in your heart squeezes. His hand grips your hip firmly, holding you in place and you gasp when you feel him prodding at your entrance. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Big bad assassin turned simpering little bitch over some good Gojo dick. 

“Just relaxxxxx, baby.” His hand rubs soothing little circles into your side and it’s so divinely distracting that it catches you by surprise when he starts pushing into you. You gasp and he only chuckles. Asshole. 

He’s big– really big – and the stretch is somehow both painful and perfect. You groan into the air, struggling to take him. Every inch feels like it must be the last, but then there’s more. Your walls clench around him on instinct, trying to force him out. 

“Fuck, baby. What did I say about relaxing?” You hiss when his hand skates down your tummy to rub messy circles on your clit. The relief is instant and you moan when you feel him slide in a little further. “There we go. Good girl.” 

He continues feeding his dick into you, inch by inch, until his hips finally press to yours and you think you can feel him in your fucking throat. You hear him exhale, like it’s a relief to finally be fully inside you, like he’s been waiting for ages. 

You expect him to not hold back, to let himself go and pound into you relentlessly, but he doesn’t. He only leans down closer to you, settling in when he starts a pace of slow, sensual thrusts. His brows pinch, his eyes hardened in concentration.

“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.” 

You want to shoot something back at him, but you’re hardly remembering to breathe with how deep he’s sliding into you. Instead, you just end up holding him tighter, your eyes fluttering shut. 

Lips dust across your cheeks, just below your lashes. “Keep your eyes open, gorgeous. Wanna see you.” 

You blink, thinking that it’s a notion that feels a little too intimate for a hookup. Regardless, you do as he wants, opening your eyes and holding his gaze.

A smile splits his lips and he presses his forehead to yours, picking up the pace of his thrusts. It’s not long before the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you’re both panting. His breath skates across your skin, hot and heavy, hitching with the groans and whines that spill from his chest. You can’t help but pull him closer, raking your nails down his back hard enough to leave marks. The action makes him emit a noise you can only describe as a desperate whimper. “Fuck, baby. Yes.” 

His lips press to yours in a kiss that’s all desperation and teeth and tongue. You kiss him back with equal intensity, your body rocking with each heavy thrust. He’s pounding into you now, frantic for more, more, more of you. You want him to take it, take all of you. 

A familiar heat pinches in your stomach and you know it won’t be long before he’s pushing you to another release. His dick drags in and out of you, prodding at the gummy spot inside you with every thrust and brushing so deliciously against your cervix that you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips. It has you seeing stars again, has you clawing at him and panting into his mouth. 

“Satoru… harder,” you breathe. You need more– more of everything, of him. 

He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.” 

His hips slam into you and it’s so perfect that you can’t help but whimper beneath him. It only gets worse when you feel his fingers on your clit again, hand pressed between your bodies. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Your eyes roll back, that coil inside you rolling tighter. You feel his muscles tensing and shaking above you and you know he’s close, too. “Where do you want it?” he asks, and from the pinched look on his face you can tell exactly where he wants it. You know you’re an idiot for feeling the same. 

“Inside,” you breathe. He groans so loudly it rattles in your ears.

“That’s my girl,” he says, but it’s nearly a whisper with how strained it is. His hand continues at your clit, rubbing perfect little circles that make your legs tremble where they’re pressed against your chest. Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t dare close your eyes. Satoru is still holding your gaze intently, desperately, like he needs to see you. The thought throws you over the edge.

You cry his name, clawing at his shoulder and shaking like a leaf as you feel yourself gush and pulse all over his dick. For the second time that evening you feel the heat inside you swell and burst, washing through you in waves that nearly consume you whole. It’s a struggle to hold his eyes, to not let them roll back into your skull and give into the pure ecstasy of your high– especially when he’s cumming, too. You can hear him moaning in your ear, feel him twitching inside you, feel his hot cum coating your walls and there’s just so fucking much of it. You swear he cums for a minute straight before he slumps down onto you, burying his face in your neck as you pant. 

You’re shaking and so is he, breaths heaving in and out. Reality slowly starts to seep back in, even with his dick still softening inside you and his cum leaking down your thighs. 

You tried to kill him. You failed. You had sex. Now what? Would he really let you go like he’d said he would? You wanted to believe it, but life hadn’t taught you to be that trusting. You should move, untangle yourself from him and escape before he has time to change his mind. 

“You assassins are always thinking so hard,” He mumbles into the curve of your neck. “Maybe you should try to relax for once.”

You swallow when you feel him pressing his lips to your throat, trailing up to your jaw. It’s… tender, gentle, and it feels so nice. You can’t help the way you melt into the touch a bit. You feel him smile into your skin. “There we go.”

His hand settles on your waist, rubbing soothing little circles that send a jolt of urgency up your spine. No. You’re enjoying this– being close to him, laying here with him, breathing him in. That’s not what this is supposed to be. 

You tense again, shifting to get away from him, but he only sighs and presses his weight onto you. 

“Come on, gorgeous. No need to leave so soon. Just stay for a bit, yeah?” He nibbles at your jaw, but it doesn’t work this time. You have to go. You’ve failed your mission. You don’t know what that means for your brother. You’d never thought this would have an ending besides your death. 

“I have to go,” you mutter, pushing at his chest. 

He chuckles, but you don’t miss the strain and… hurt? “Got something more important than trying to kill me?” 

You clench your teeth, trying once again to shove him away. “Yes, actually.” 

He finally pulls back to meet your gaze, brows slightly pinched. “Like what?” 

You push in earnest now, anger and panic rising in your gut. You have to go, have to check on your brother, have to figure out what you’re going to do. “That’s really none of your business,” you seethe. 

You go for another shove, but strong hands clasp around your wrists, pinning them to the bed. His expression has gone flat now, serious. “Actually, I think it’s completely my business. You going to report your failure? Should I expect another assassin soon?”

You scowl, tugging at his grasp and trying to free yourself. “Yeah, probably. He’s an insufferable idiot. I told him it wouldn’t work and it didn’t, but I don’t doubt he’ll send another.” 

His face cracks, his brows pulling together again. “If you knew it wouldn’t work then why’d you take the job?” 

You struggle again, less angry and more desperate now. “Because he’s got my fucking brother at gunpoint and I’ve got to figure out how the fuck I’m going to save him!” you shout.

There’s silence for a long moment– a long, uncomfortable beat of it– and then his expression softens into something… tender. It sends a chill up your spine. Satoru Gojo was never supposed to be tender with you, and that’s all he’s been. 

“I’ll save him,” he says. Your heart jumps and his grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to slip free. 

“What?” you breathe. He sits back, allowing you to prop yourself up into a slightly less vulnerable position. 

He exhales slowly, but you don’t miss the way his hand settles on your bare thigh, a comforting weight. “I’ll save your brother and then I’ll take care of your boss.” A smirk creeps across his lips. “What? Don’t think I can do it?”

You stare blankly, lips parted. There’s no doubt he can do it, but that’s not the question swirling in your mind. 

“Why would you help me?” You’d tried to kill the man. You couldn’t make heads or tails of a reason why he’d go out of his way to help you. 

He chuckles. “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m a hero of sorts.” You have to fight not to roll your eyes. “And… there’s something I want from you.” 

There it is– the catch. He wants something. You have no idea what you could possibly have to give him, but you’re willing for it to be just about anything. You narrow your eyes. “What?” 

He grins, but you can see the glint of mischief in his gaze. His hand slides further up your thigh, up your side, over your shoulder, until it rests at the nape of your neck and his face is only inches from your own. “What’s your number, gorgeous?”

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @fushironi, @enchantedsylveon, @keiva1000, @complexivelovely, @httpstoyosi, @bbyxxm, @6kabuki.

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#bree’s fics #jjk #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou x reader #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x y/n #jjk gojou #gojou satoru x you #satoru gojou #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo saturo #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojou satoru #jujutsu kaisen #tw: organized crime #tw: attempted murder

[i-like-eyes]

So.. what's the deal with the cartoon network crossover? 👀

I'm glad you sent an ask I was originally going to make a separate post lol

The AU spawned from wanting to do my own take on FusionFall, which then became a fighting game, then the gameplay was reworked into an original idea and the designs of the CN characters were reworked into a comic. Since it started as a fighter that meant I had planned out separate stages for each franchise, as opposed to one uniform setting such as CN City or the popular shared school au. The fighter didn't really have a plot I just came up with the explanation that the kids are all KND (or TeenND) members and were just having a sparing match and the adult characters were somehow targets or smth. Now the current iteration is most the characters are just on the same planet and become involved in some way or another (probably the KND still). The reoccurring theme is just trying to find people like you.

The most clear idea I've had is between PPG and Ben 10; the girls are known around the world and Ben (and Gwen) feeling lonely want to meet other super hero kids their age. Grandpa Max reminds them they are still strangers and that Ben and Gwen have to keep their identities secret, but does some research into the girls and Professor Utonium and recognizes how he still value's their privacy. Max then tries to get in contact with Utonium to see if getting the kids together would even be a good idea. Utonium himself also recognizes the girls have tried to find other super hero kids to hang out with, but both he and Max spend like a year over email trying to see if they can even trust each other lmao. Eventually after the two meet up (and Max knows he can trust them with the alien thing) they agree to set up a playdate and the focus then moves to the kids as they interact.

Ben and Gwen are like uhhhh aged between the original and Alien Force. Kevin is also there but I want to write a different intro for him that involves Gwen more.

The girls I've pictured as this; Blossom handles the fame best of the 3 and also is the best when it comes to the press while Buttercup and Blossom prefer to stand back. While she is good at being the ideal Powerpuff Girl, she has ambitions in the same science as her father and struggles to balance the two. Buttercup still enjoys the art of fighting the most, and goes on the most solo missions, but gets treated unfairly for her more masculine behavior and has to deal with fitting in with neither girls nor boys. Bubbles also has to deal with unfair treatment by being undermined for being the most girlish (there is no winning) but lacks a hobby like the other two (though she has some artistic merit). She may be the loneliest of the three as a result. Although they all still share a good friend in Robin. Bubbles and Buttercup get along better than they did as kids, though Blossom doesn't want them to feel like she's ignoring the two.

For the sake of simplicity the ending of KND and the G:KND storyline with Nigel being shot into space is ignored. The KND as an organization is trying to expand the TND upon seeing the teen's potential for rebellion. They lack a way to regain old KND members back, so they go out trying to recruit teens while they wait for current KND members to just age up. Sector V was selected for TND and go out and try and recruit new members. The ideas I have for them involve the awkward wait between the V members going 12 -> 13 years and transitioning between jobs. My personal hc was that in the show at one point it's Kuki and Wally at 10, Nigel at 11, then Hoagie and Abby at 12, with Kuki being the youngest and Abby the oldest. During and after this transition phase they are sent out on recruitment missions which is where the crossover stuff comes in.

Hoagie is sent to see if either Dexter or Mandark is available. Mandark is a dick but Dexter get points knocked down for getting funding from the adult-run NASA. It turns into another ego battle between Dexter and Mandark while Hoagie has to deal with the two rich kids. Dee Dee is there to fuck with all 3 of them and is the one that gets recruited. Hoagie probably also treats this like a sports movie or smth.

The Time Squad sometime in the future are homeschooling Otto, they try to get him socializing with kids his age during missions but think that he should be spending time with kids from his century. Otto has been researching not just history but what happens after his time as well. He wants to meet heroes when they were his age.

I have A LOT of ideas for the Eds but most of it isn't crossover material. But I like the idea of them just accidentally walking into other shows, Courage or Foster's in particular.

The world in this AU is basically only limited by shows with hugely conflicting lore. That's vague but that mostly means like, the Land of Ooo conflicts with most shows. So to justify AT it's like. An alternate Earth and somehow Finn finds his way to this one and loses his shit over other humans. While he's glad to find kids like him Jake worries that Finn may prefer this world to Ooo and that he may leave. Jake is all ready to come to terms with this and Finn is like dude what we have only been here for 5 hours.

Billy and Mandy are mostly antags like in the KND crossover. I have a super vague idea for Billy somehow giving up Grim to other kids and they keep trading him for like a corn chip, and while other toon guys go on adventures with the reaper, Mandy drags Billy with her to get Grim back. At some point Numbuh 1 meets the Regular Show crew I forgot to draw and his world view is shattered. Gumball and Darwin are there. Etc.

I'd probably prioritize the first PPG and Ben 10 story as the clearest I got rn. But otherwise I'd love to see other people's crossover stuff and just old CN or cartoons in general.

#cartoon network #i may need to come up with a name for this sort of project #powerpuff girls #ppg #ben 10 #knd #dexter's laboratory #time squad #fhfif #eene #eh i wont tag the stuff not with a drawing #myart #asks #i will 100% end up going back and editing this

[princesssmars]

i'd love just about anyone, so why was it you?

a victoria neuman x reader

your talent for singing is finally starting to take you places in the city of lights. so why did it have to introduce you to a woman who might ruin it all?

wc : 10.248

contains : fxf relationship. readers hair and skin aren't described. fluff. angst.nsfw including sex and language. the french. barely proof-read.

a/n : i cant believe there are no fics for this fine ass woman yet but i am nothing but a pioneer idk. in my daydreams this was like mafia au victoria but i literally never write or dream of those so i opted out lmao. go watch gen v. everyone always talks about how good the cover is but nonante-cinq by angele is a beautiful album so i recommend listening to that for french vibes. enjoy <3

it was the most stereotypical and overplayed song ever, but damn did you love la vie en rose.

just the concept of the song was romantic to you. to live every day like it would be magnificent, like you could know a day would be your last and look back at it and not regret a single thing. it meant looking at the world with a positivity that these days was mostly faked or artificial.

after the life you've lived, the things you've seen firsthand, you need that positive light in your life more than anything else. especially right now, as your manager is hounding you over the phone about your next gig.

now you loved your manager, nancy, you really did. she took you in and was honest when no one else would be, stood by you when no one else wanted to give you a real chance. but sometimes it felt like she didn't really believe in you. obviously, she believed you had talent, or else she would have 'left you in the dust for the rats to pick apart,' in her own words. it was almost like she couldn't fathom that what you had was real, like you didn't truly deserve all the things that were coming to you.

but as long as you were paying her, she didn't bother to speak up on it.

you were listening to her drone on and on into the speaker from your phone, holding the object up to your ear with one hand as you hold a menu to order something from the cafe waitress who's waiting beside you.

"ill have an uhhhh... le marie antoinette, and a coffee with sugar and cream please," you hand the menu to the waitress after she writes down your order, heading back into the cafe with a smile. this cafe was one of your favorites, nestled below an apartment building in one of the inner city arrondissements so you could sit outside beneath an umbrella and admire the city before you. "nancy, i don't see why i can't just...politely turn it down? it sounds like it's a glorified pin-up girl gig, le bellevilloise is offering for me to sing there exclusively for three months-"

"no, that's what im trying to tell you if you'd let me finish." you can hear nancy's telltale sigh through the phone. she had a short temper when she was stressed, something you sadly had in common, and you could hear her clicking a pen through the receiver. "this is an international gala slash fundraiser, attended by the one percent of the one percent. billionaires, senators, diplomats, everything. the event organizer asked for you specifically, so turning it down is a bad look. aka, you're doing it. go out and get a pretty dress. ill send you more details later."

the phone shut off and you let out a huff of air, crossing your right leg over your left beneath the table. once you have your meal and bite into your pastry you can't help but close your eyes at how good it tastes; the combination of the crunch of the macarons, the near-overwhelming sweetness of the cream, and the savory juice that leaks from the raspberries never gets old.

you don't know how you feel about this whole gala thing. sure its a great way to make connections and earn a fat stack of cash that will probably last you few weeks, but you've learned before that the people that you most admire, celebrities, politicians, even superheroes, can't be trusted. and being in a room full of them to perform wasn't at the top of your christmas wish list.

but like everyone else in the world, you were finding money hard to pass up on. just by the lowball nancy told you, you'd be able to comfortably pay the next month's rent and fix up your electric scooter, maybe even enough to save up for that beautiful flat you saw online with the grand windows and nice floor plan.

it'd only be a few hours of singing and kissing up to a bunch of snobs and you'd be done. easy peasy.

finding a dress wasn't to hard. your modeling connections from before you started to focus on singing gave you access to a few, good quality clearance pieces for your picking. you figure that the people you were performing for would prefer something classy and elegant, so you picked out a sleeveless black dress with black opera gloves, accessorized by a diamond necklace and earrings. one of your stylist friends, alex, who you asked to help do up your hair told you 'you're definitely gonna shag a rich man looking like this, just ask them if they have any friends for me!' and after a quick 'please don't wish that upon me' and a spritz of perfume you were ready.

the hours before you got on stage were nothing short of both nerve-racking but exhilarating. you rode in a standard taxi, your slight jitters noticed by the slightly balding man in the front. he eyes you pretty oddly when you got in the car before using you if you were a model, telling you that his daughter would like an autograph if you were. you felt slightly flustered when you had to tell him you weren't, but gave him some tips to tell his daughter if she wanted to pursue it. after around twenty minutes of driving through the city the car stops and you're escorted by a crew member into a grand building, those types you pass by and dream of getting the chance just to step into.

after that its a rush of meeting the event planner who gives you another run down of the evening and then meeting with the band members, a nice group of jazz players who you had heard about on the news for their blends of old and new methods of performing music. they played you a piece on their instruments in their dressing room, and it felt like hanging out with old friends listening to tunes as one twirled you around and the others laughed and the air felt warm and fuzzy.

later its time for your set, where you'll sing as the guests come in and take occasional breaks to save your breath and let whoever is hosting this talk. so you get up on your mini stage, make sure you look alright and you're in tune with the band, and then you do what you do best.

you've never felt better than how you do while you sing. every time you do so you tell a story, tales of success and tragedy and love and heartache. while you sing your favorite thing to do is to admire the crowd. when you were younger it gave you horrible stage fright, but as you grew up and saw just how much people loved your voice it made you confident, if not the tiniest bit narcissistic.

as you look out at the guests of tonight you see what's expected. important and powerful men donned in suits, their wives standing on their arms in glamourous gowns, you swear that you even see some fairly famous celebs in the mix, and they were all listening intently to you and your voice.

and that's when you saw her. near the back of the room with a glass of red wine in her hand, dark hair flowing over her shoulders, and darker eyes trained on you. in this profession you get used to people staring at you for hours on end, but something about this woman unnerves you slightly.

a short while later your set is over and after a round of applause the organizer tells you to enjoy yourselves, and that you're free to indulge in whatever food is left. after a brief touch-up in the dressing room and making sure you look presentable, you head out to get yourself something to eat. you keep getting stopped by people telling you how beautiful your performance was, how they'd love to get in contact with your agent to book you for future events, and your regular dose of creepy old guys hitting on you. but besides that things were going pretty well.

some servers were waking around with trays of champagne, but you figured since everything was complimentary you would treat yourself to something stronger. you head to the bar and order yourself a strong cocktail, and as soon as you finish your order a figure sits on the stool next to yours.

"get me a scotch on the rocks, thanks."

you glance at them from the corner of your eye and feel your heart beat faster when you see

it's the woman from before. from this close distance, you can admire her entirely, and god is she gorgeous. she looks so put together, not a hair out of place, and wearing a perfectly tailored suit that makes you guess she's some kind of wealthy businesswoman.

after not so secretly checking her out, she turns her body towards you and looks at you with a smile.

"im sure you already know, but you have an enchanting voice."

you look down bashfully, thinking the same about her. she speaks like she's so sure of what she's saying like there's no room for debate or argument.

"thank you. no matter if i know or not, it doesn't take much to make me a little nervous every time i perform."

the bartender brings over both of your drinks and she tilts hers to you.

"trust me, theres no need. you're nothing but a natural, one of the best singers i've ever heard."

"ah, now you're exaggerating. is there a reason you're complimenting me like you're being paid to do so?"

she shakes her head, setting down her glass of liquor with a clink. "not anything nefarious, if that's what you're thinking. just glad i get to talk to a beautifully talented woman."

jeez, she was laying it on thick. normally this was coming from some fifty-year-old man with greasy skin and weird teeth, but it felt nice coming from her. she was obviously gorgeous, leaving her body language open in case you wanted to decline and she would walk away in a moment's notice.

"im glad i get to talk to you too, miss?"

"victoria. its a pleasure to talk to you, miss y/n."

for around an hour or two the both of you sat at that bar, blocking out the fake laughs of investors and boisterous noises of people who got a little too friendly with the free champagne. she was so attentive to you. asking about what got you into singing and what brought you to paris by your non-native accent. you normally kept the finer details of your past a close-guarded secret, but you figured there couldn't come any harm from telling this attractive stranger a few things about yourself before never seeing her again.

"you're telling me at only sixteen years old, you flew to paris by yourself and made a living for yourself? you've got balls on you, sister."

"yeah yeah, but im nothing special. i just got tired of all the bullshit in the u.s., y'know? the greed, the cynicism, the-"

"superhero bullshit?"

you giggled while she smirked, observing your smile and how it made your eyes squinch.

"well i wouldn't put it like that but...superheros? really? its just, they make it so american, in a really really annoying way. i just couldn't deal with that being a reality. and where better than paris? it seems like voughts all but forgotten about it recently, thank god.”

"i understand. and i know we just met, but it does suit you. 'beautiful runaway finds passion, life, and love in the city of lights'. best cliche there is."

"and what a damn good cliche it is to be. although i haven't been that lucky on the love front."

her eyebrow raises and her nail traces around the rim of her glass.

"im sorry but i simply cant believe that. someone like you would have people lining up for a chance to talk to you, let alone date you."

you dryly chuckle before taking another long swig of your glass of champagne, dancing just on the edge of being intoxicated. you understood why everyone else was drinking this, it was sweet but strong.

"people have tried, of course. but sadly most of my escapades end in tragedy. very melodramatically. but enough about me, I'm guessing this isn't gonna go my way and you have someone waiting for you at home?"

"im offended you still think so low of me. but no, there was someone but it didn't work out. now its just me and my daughter."

god, she was a milf. if there was a god you prayed he would let you get lucky tonight.

"well, im sorry to hear it didnt work out."

"are you really?"

she looks at you with a smirk on her face.

"no, im not."

that was all she needed to ask you to come back with her to her hotel.

and not just any hotel, she was rich enough to be spending two weeks in the damn ritz. asking again what she did for a living didn't get you very far, the only hint you got being that it helped her change the world. ominous but whatever. it had to be legitimate if she was invited to that gala.

the cautious and common sense side of you is snuffed out for the night the moment she set her hand over the covered skin of your thigh in the car, the feeling of her hand on your lower back leading you through the pristine lobby of the hotel, that same hand helping you take off your dress and take you apart slowly over the rest of the night.

when you wake up the sun is peeking through the curtains, the softness of the sheets your laying on calling you back to sleep before you get up and look around.

you only got a few seconds to admire the room last night before victoria was on you, and now in the light of day you could truly take everything in. you find a note left by the woman, letting you know she had to leave temporarily for an important job thing and that she'd be back my lunch, inviting you to call up room service and enjoy the room intil then.

you were expecting for her to tell you to pack your shit up and go, so despite the oddness this was a nice surprise. besides, there was no way you were gonna pass up on ordering a five-star breakfast you didnt have to pay for.

after indulging in a meal brought by room service and finding ways to pass the time, you text your manager after she happily lets you know that your night was a success and that your payment should be cleared shortly. while you're in the middle of wondering if you should answer her query about the host wondering where you wandered off to last night, the sound of a door opening makes your head jerk towards the small entry area, victoria coming in through the doorway dressed in a tan suit and carrying a large black briefcase on her arm.

"ah, youre still here!,” she sets her bag on a glass table near the door and strides into the room, eyes connected with yours the whole time. you weren’t feeling nervous before, but under her gaze you wonder if maybe you should have taken that free meal along with some tiny soaps from the bathroom and headed back home.

“yeah, figured i’d stick around for whatever. besides, i had to stay and blame you for my manager thinking i got kidnapped.”

“i’ll make sure to apologize and send her an edible arrangement. besides, i hope to take up more of your time in the future.”

your eyes bulge so hard you’re sure you look like a moron. you cover it up by getting up to get yourself another cup of coffe from the tray the food came in on.

“well i should’ve guessed this was more than a one night stand when you allowed me to order up breakfast. but now i have to admit i’m slightly scared you’re actually plotting to traffick me.”

"trust me, that wouldn't be good for business. id just like to see you some more, if that would be alright with you.

was that an actual question? after the night you had and the way she’s been treating you, you didn’t see much of a choice except to say yes.

she tells you that a few hours later she has a flight back to america, but that she wouldn't mind spending the day with you if you're free. you agree to get a little bite to eat and it turns into a whirlwind day of showing her around the city you call your home. she has to wear giant sunglasses the whole time and have a mysterious security detail not too far behind, but you wouldn't change anything about it.

at the end of it all, she bids you goodbye in front of your taxi, admiring the cute outfit she bought for you so you wouldn't have to go home in your dress from the night prior, promising that she'll keep in touch with you once she gets settled in back a new york, jokingly telling you she'll send you a postcard. as you sit in the back of the taxi, your heart inflates a little as you take in the events of the last day. you never liked to mix business with pleasure in this way, partly because most of those business people were gross perverts and also that it could damage your career beyond repair, but with victoria you can't help but think that it was worth it.

eventually, a few days pass by, and the only calls you've gotten are from friends congratulating on what they heard was another great performance. and as nice as all the praise and the new gigs you started to get felt, the longer you heard no word back from victoria, it started to eat away at you inside.

back at your favorite cafe you sit with two of your oldest friends, jamie and chloe, as they ramble about the details of their changing lives and jobs. you don't know when you zoned out but eventually, chloe's manicured finger lightly pokes at your cheek, giggling when you make a playful motion to bite it.

"where'd you go just now? take me with you before jamie keeps talking about his new lover."

"hey!" jamie pouts, "you're just jealous because i've been regularly having passionate sex allll night long while you're still vying over your boss." you hear a shocked gasp behind him and you all turn to see an elderly couple looking at jamie like he's said the most blasphemous thing they've ever heard.

"really classy, james." you snort.

"what the hell! you're supposed to be on my side! everyone has noticed how you've been in a better mood since that gala. alex told us how they checked up on you afterwise and you showed up a day later with a new outfit and a hickey on your neck."

"that is- god, that’s so intrusive and so like them,” you rolled your eyes. you knew as soon as alex saw you that morning that they’d be gossiping to everyone about the state they saw you in. “and i don’t kiss and tell like that. at least not in public like this.”

“ok, so we’ll stop by your place tonight with some wine and talk all about it tonight. agree?”

“what? no-”

“agree!” chloe beams and shakes hands with jamie across the table, blowing you kisses before leaving her share of the bill on the table and leaving with some excuse of having to be somewhere. you glare at jamie as a warning before he gives you a kiss on the cheek and does the same. you grumble before biting into your muffin.

a few hours later you’re sitting on your soft sofa with jamie’s head in your lap and chloe on the other side, talking and laughing about old stories from your jobs. you take a sip of merlot right before jamie brings up what you were hoping they’d forgotten about by now.

“ok ok, enough chatter. seriously, chlo, you cackle like a seagull. y/n, when are you going to tell us about this mystery lover of yours? do you need another glass of wine to start talking?”

“don’t even think about pouring me another glass. look, there’s not much to say, ok? i was singing, she was staring at me from across the bar, we flirted a little, that was it!”

they stared.

“you want more?”

“how could we not? we haven’t seen you like this with anyone! not since we took you on that tourist tour on the seine!”

that…that took you for a spin. you remembered it clear as day, them tugging you along when they’d heard since you came to paris you’d been focusing on building up your image and working. it was more a joke, but the lights of the boat, the sky and the lights made you feel like you were in the most perfect moment of your life. hearing them compare that to how you looked now had a nervous feeling building in your gut.

“we spent the night together. and it was…good. really good. she let me stay while she went out, bought me a new outfit then said she’d be in touch.”

your friends are silent. way too silent. you’re afraid they’re about to laugh and judge you before they’re squealing and tackling you, pulling back when you groan after you almost spill your wine on your clothes.

"god, why are you always the lucky one? this isn't fair! at all!" chloe groans while dramatically resting her head on your shoulder, jamie still giggling as the wine clearly starts to take an effect on him. "please, please tell us what happens next before i scream."

"no thats- i mean, thats it. so far. for now." you stutter along your words as your friends' faces go blank yet again, except this time without a hint of a chuckle or smile.

"what the hell do you mean 'that's it.'? she ghosted you?" jamie gasps.

"no, she didnt ghost me-"

"sweetheart, im sorry to say this but you have been ghosted. in a really dickhead way."

"its not like that! she's a busy person with a serious job and a kid and responsibilities!"

you briefly hear chloe snicker "milf?" before you roll your eyes.

"she's gonna contact me. and even if she doesn't, maybe it was just a nice one-time thing! everyone knows I'm great at those."

jamie snickers before chloe smacks his shoulder in a second.

"why? why did you laugh?"

they share a look before she smacks his shoulder again.

"would you stop? i have pains, you know this. but y/n, we know you. we love you. but your latest stints haven't been...the most successful. or left you in the best headspaces."

"he's right, honey. remember the last girl, hannah? one of the worst situationships i've ever seen. you told us you would be alright when she broke it off and then we found you at that lousy bar at eleven in the morning..."

you start biting at your lip. there was nothing you hated more than when they told you the truth about how you could act. it wasn't your fault that all the time your relationships got messy, or that you got attached a little quickly. people didn't understand but a life like yours could be lonely. standing up on a stage and performing for people who want you to do just that and only that: sing and look like a glamourous pin-up doll. most of the time its the other performers who even bother to ask if your throat is alright after singing for hours.

so yes, sometimes you rushed into relationships. and you might have done it again in the dumbest way possible.

"i just...she let me stay after, y'know? and she came back and brought me with her again. why go through that effort just to leave me behind like trash?" your friends pouted before closing in to comfort you, rubbing your back and giving you small affirmations.

for a month you go into a rut. unless it's performing or going to the dentist for a checkup you don't leave your house. you become pretty good acquaintances with the grocery delivery boy, benny, who started panicking when he realized he forgot one of your items until you assured him it was fine. it wasn't the first time you'd grown so oddly attached to a romantic prospect, and it wasn't the first time you'd gotten hurt by it. you spend your time moping on your couch and binge-watching your favorite show for the third time when your phone buzzes from beside you.

nancy schmancy : call me.

you rolled your eyes. she could have just called you in the first place, but no. she had to be extra about it. you press the call button and don't have to wait even five seconds for her voice to ring in your ear.

"do you want to know what mister barbier just emailed me?"

"i think you already have that answer for me."

"he said, and i quote, 'tell y/n i send my best wishes. her performance last night was hauntingly beautiful, and i'm hoping it was one of her greatest acts yet.'"

"if you ask me, it sounds like i did a pretty good job."

"it sounds like he thought you were singing your damn suicide note!" she groaned, and you could hear her face scrunching from over the phone. "i don't know what is going on with you recently, and i don't want to sound insensitive, but if you can't manage to keep your work and personal life separate, even i can't help you make it far in this business. clients may say they want you to be expressive but they only mean so far. unhappy music means unhappy customers, capeche?"

"i understand, nancy. ill send a personal apology to mister barbier."

"good. ill call you soon to let you know about any new gigs. take care of yourself. seriously."

the line clicks and you toss your phone onto the couch and take another sip of sauvignon blanc from your rose-shaped wine glass. it pained you to admit it, but nancy had a point. if you kept letting yourself mope in your feelings you'd run out of people who wanted you to sing, and if the point came where you were out of gigs...you didn't even want to think about it. if you weren't singing you weren't living.

only a few hours after that call you manage to get back to normal. you go out and get your own groceries, deciding to indulge yourself and buy the ingredients for some recipe you saw online months ago. one of your clients cries at your performance, ecstatically telling you they'll be in talks with your manager to set up a stable contract. things really start to look up. two weeks later you even manage to get the number of a cute girl, elise, a tall woman with dyed hair who reached for the same vintage music box as you at an open market.

you're smiling as you look down at the messy ink on a slip of paper, the numbers and tiny smily face distracting you as you enter the hallway to your apartment. so distracted that you nearly trip over a object on the floor, looking down to see...a bouquet?

a really gorgeous bouquet you notice as you bend over to pick it up. its a collage of dusty blues and off-colored ivories, and when you brought it closer to your nose for a whiff you felt a sense of bliss. you bring it into your apartment with a skip in your step before you spot a piece of paper among the flowers, plucking it from the collection and reading it over.

upon closer inspection, you can see its a postcard, the cover a flattering shot of the statue of liberty with text that reads "love from new york city!". you try to calm your heart down at the location and the 'love' part, but you've already gotten your hopes up when you turn the card around to read the message:

xxx-xxx-xxxx

sorry for the wait. i'll make it up to you, angel.

you'd never felt so conflicted as you did in the past five seconds. half of you was vindicated that yes, this attractive woman didnt leave you high and dry and did actually have a deeper interest in you, but the other part was angry. and embarrassed that you were angry, because again, you spent less than a day with this woman, she didn't owe you anything. but also yes the hell she did.

before you could get yourself together you were harshly tapping the number into your cell, biting at your lip as the phone slowly rings.

"y/n, is that you?" echoes from the line, victorias voice sounding and running over your head like soft silk. no, no, stop it. focus.

"howd you know it was me? im sure you have other people who'd be calling you this late."

"certainly not anyone with a phone number from paris. besides, i was hoping it'd be you."

"well, i would have been flattered two weeks ago but unfortunately i dont think your words could phase me right now."

she sighs and the line goes silent. you feel bad for being catty for a few seconds before you brush it off. she's the one who played with your emotions and promised to call you but never did. she had this coming.

"im sorry, really i am. i've been busy with things at work and my daughter-"

damn it, she pulled the kid card again.

"i just...dont like being lied to. or led on. maybe its my fault for beeing too clingy-"

"no, no. dont apologize. if it means anything youve been on my mind for weeks now."

"yeah, same here. except my thoughts havent been all that nice." you laugh.

"deserved. and id like to make it up to you."

"oh yeah? let me guess, this time we'll spend two nights together?"

"close. how about two weeks. in new york."

you don't know if you should laugh. you feel like you should, so you do. but she isn't.

"you...you're being serious."

"im being serious."

what do you even say? what do you even do? of course, whatever higher power there is would make your life stable and steady for the past few months then throw this in to shake you up. you really should have been expecting it, considering...

you shake yourself back to the present. victoria is still waiting on the other line, unwilling to rush you into a decision, apparently. you'd applaud her for her chivalry if you weren't so stunned.

"victoria, come on. we've only met once, and while it was nice it was brief. now you want me to upend my life and career to jet off to america? it sounds crazy."

"you make me a bit crazy, honestly. besides, you were telling me in bed you haven't been in the states since you left, i have a feeling you miss it more than you let on."

you shuffle in your spot, reminded that you're standing in your cold-ass kitchen and you haven't changed out of the outfit you wore out today. but half of your uncomfortableness is from a feeling gnawing at your chest because she's right. at this point you can barely remember the night you left your childhood home, but you know it was rushed. you wanted to forget everything.

"i think you're also forgetting that i have a blossoming career here. are you gonna pay my definitely going to be pissed off manager her wages? plus i was supposed to be first pick for this really good gig-"

"i'll pay for everything, i promise. dont forget that i have connections. in two weeks they''ll be singing you praises across the globe."

you close your eyes and take in a breath.

"can you make my ticket first class?"

-

one thing you didnt miss about america? just how...much everything was, all the time.

your flight was quiet. victoria didnt hesitate to book you an expensive ticket, almost taking offense to your request for a nice one and scheduling you for business class, sending you a text to get lots of rest in the ultra-luxe beds on the plane. it was probably one of the best nights sleeps you'd had in months.

when you got off the plane there were two tall escorts holding a sign with your last name on it, taking the suitcases from your hands before you could say anything and leading you into a sleek black car. a voice in the back of your head starts screaming but you ignore it. for now.

the men in the car give you some basic rundowns, how they'll constantly be hovering over you during your stay for your "protection", and that they'll be taking you to settle into a hotel until victoria makes contact, and the little voice starts freaking out again and telling you that you've slept with and are fraternizing with a mob boss. at least it's more exciting than your last few flings.

the car goes silent after that, and you put in your earbuds as you watch the city go by. you weren't from new york, but you loved watching movies set in the bustling cityscape. the buildings really are humongous, and you see so many different types of people it sets your brain on a whirlwind.

you look back down at your phone after the fifth 'the seven' advertisement in one block.

yet again you're led into a clearly extremely expensive hotel, breezing through reception before you are led to a luxuriant hotel room, the bodyguards ignoring you as you giggle and flop onto the bed, waving them off when they tell you they'll be posted outside.

the sheets feel heavenly on your skin, and with the soft sunshine from the window beaming down on you and the gentle hustle and bustle of new york outside, you think you could fall asleep in a minute. but, begrudgingly, you peel yourself form the bed and open your suitcase to start putting your clothes away before taking a quick shower in the giant bathtub.

just as you exit the shower and wrap your body in a towel, your phone starts ringing and as soon as you read the 'v' in the contact name you push answer and bring it to your ear.

"hello? vic?"

"hey, hon. eager to talk to me?"

"you called me. and 'hon'? really? we've moved to petnames already?"

"figured id start making up for those weeks with no contact. and id like to do so again tonight. i wanna bring you somewhere."

your mouth quirks up in a smile as you re-adjust the towel around your body, the phone nearly slipping from its quick placement between your phone and ear, "id really like that. i hope its out to dinner, i didnt care to eat any of the plane food."

“yes, it’s to dinner. but its up to you if you want it to be fancy or casual. i know its tacky but there’s this pretty cute french place near where i live...”

“that vaguely sounds like an invitation to your place, but ill let it slide. are you gonna pick me up or are your special agents going to escort me everywhere for the next few weeks?”

“special agents? what agents?”

a bead of water drips from your neck down your back and it feels like the tip of a knife. a pressure builds in the back of your throat and your fingers grip the fabric of your towel. “what…that’s a joke, right?”

her laughter rings in your ear and you are seconds away from hanging up the call.

“sorry, sorry. i sometimes have a weird sense of humor. you'll get used to it.”

“i doubt it.”

“and i'm hopeful. i'll let you go so you can get ready, i'll be by in under an hour.”

you hang up after a sweet goodbye and gently sit on the toilet. your brain is rushing to catch up after the conversation like your body goes on autopilot when you hear victoria's voice. its terrifying and its thrilling. and you don't know why a part of you likes the feeling.

after you brush your teeth, do some quick skincare, debate over shaving just in case, and spend twenty minutes picking out a cute outfit, you finally hear the gentle knocking on the door while you're double-checking over the content of your purse.

rushing to open the door, you're greeted with the sight of a smiling victoria, her hands tucked into the pants of her clearly expensive pinstriped pantsuit. you're admiring the look of her hair tucked back into a ponytail when she's reaching forward and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"you look perfect. come on, i made us a reservation."

and it turned out to be a perfect night. she did end up taking you to the french place, allowing you to order whatever you wanted. that place was weirdly empty, only a handful of other patrons inside. you were pleased to see that the waitress was french herself, having a small chat about the customs and foods she missed while she praised the authenticity of the food at the restaurant.

only a day and you had already forgotten how forward the people back home could be, because the waitress throws a subtle look at victoria and compliments you on finding such an attractive woman. when she leaves vic just smiles.

“ok, id say at this point we’re doing pretty good with the communication thing, right?” you ask, taking a sip of the pricey wine your date ordered.

“yeah, id say that.”

you finger the rim of your glass, the nerves getting to you before you ask your question. "i want you to tell me what your job is. your actual job, not some vague ass title. you have security following gus around, so i feel like i should know."

"no, no, you're right. i just didnt wanna scare you off. or have you think differently of me once i told you." she sighs, thumbing the napkins on the table. "i work in the government. i'm a congresswoman, to be exact."

you don't doubt she's a politician for a second, because she shows no hint of nervousness at your lack of emotion.

"are you...a good congresswoman?"

"i don't really know how to answer that." she laughs.

"i'm sorry. i knew you were important enough to be at that gala, but a politician is...tricky."

she reaches across the table and lays her hand palm up, smiling when you rest yours on top of it. "look, i get it. i should have told you sooner but please understand why i didn't. i wanted to get to know you as normally as possible, without all of the press and politics in the way."

"normally as possible, huh? that includes sleeping together on the first night?"

you're trying to show your acceptance of the situation with your humor, but you can tell victoria can sense your uneasiness at the situation. here you were thinking you had found some under-the-radar millionaire to dote on you and instead, you'd roped in someone whose job was entirely in the public eye that could be put in danger at the flip of a switch.

"how about we finish up and take this back to my place? i'll tell you everything that you wanna know about me. no matter how personal."

you stare into her eyes for a few seconds and decide that she looks genuine, getting confirmation that her daughter is staying with a friend before ending your meal and following her to her place.

for the amount of money she's ready to spend on you, you're surprised to see that victoria lives in a chic but quaint townhome only a twenty-minute walk from the restaurant. she gently takes off your coat and instructs you to sit with her on the couch, pressing on a remote to turn on her fireplace.

after a few hours and two more glasses of wine, victoria had opened up to you about nearly everything in her life. the mysterious death of her birth family, being adopted by a man who helped pushed her to go into a political career, her polite but loveless marriage with her ex. she even shows you a picture of zoe that she has in her wallet, taking the chance to gush over her daughter. she seems like such a sweet girl.

maybe it's the wine or maybe it's the way vic is opening up to you so freely, but you decide to tell her more about your past. how you always wondered why you barely stuggled moving to another continent at such a young age, or the fact that you dont even remeber why you had the drive to leave your parents home in the first place. you didnt even remember the last words you said to each other.

and throughout it all she's nothing if not attentive, she doesnt ask questions unless you give her permission too, keeping her eyes on you and gently placing her hand over yours.

you feel a turning in your stomach when she moves a stray hand of hair behind your ear. you told yourself to try taking things slow this time, but your body is starting to feel fuzzy and shes looking at you like she wants to devour you.

she decides to indulge you and gently brushes her lips against yours, smiling at the way your breath staggers. your head moves forwards to finaly get her to kiss you but she jerks her head back.

"i want you to tell me what to do."

god, your stomach feels hot. this is new, but a really arousing style of new. the last time you both slept together she had taken a careful but unwavering charge, unraveling you with a steady hand a sweet smile.

"cmon just...please?"

"no. tell me what you want me to do."

you sigh and bite at your lip. "i want you to lay me down and fuck me. right now."

so she laid you down and she did. there were no words to describe how much you enjoyed that night on her couch, the way she could read your body like a book and brought you to ecstasy again and again and again...

and when you wake up a soft blanket is draped over your body, a brekfast of coffee and some crepes set in front of you.

the days after are a whirlwind. discreetly as possible victoria takes you on a tour of new york city, to more expensive restaurants and hidden jewels that most tourists skipped over.

youre lounging in your hotel room when you decide to inform your friends of how your trip is going. while slightly hesitant they seemed more than happy that you were enjoying yourself with someone who took a genuine interest in you.

until you told them her job.

"my love, are you insane? a politician?"

"an american politician?" chloe gasps, continuing off of jamies shock.

"hey, im american too dont forget!"

"of course you are, but please, you understand why this is not good, no?"

"you know how fishy they are, especially with all the supe business going on. that place is getting more dangerous by the day, and i dont think you should be seeing someone whos contirbuting to that."

it pained you to admit it but jamie had a point. the three of you would always laugh in amused horror at how badly things were going on in your birth country, and the politics...it was less than pleasant.

not to mention the supe business. every corner of the world had to deal with the annoyance that was vought and their "products", even france. but so far you'd just had to deal with a few perverted looks from traveling supers and talks of some stupid theme park a few miles out of the city. meanwhile, it seemed like every day a new superhero was being introduced to the American public. it unnerved you.

"i understand. i appreciate both of you looking out for me. trust me, i'll be on my guard for now on." you mumble, picking at the material of your sleeve.

"of course, songbird. we'll call again soon."

the call ends and drop your phone on the nightstand. you look at the eiffel tower cutout in your phone case and your heart aches.

the next morning you're eating a a breakfast of coffee and fruit crepes when your phone rings, dragging your atttention away from the trashy dating show you were watching on the bedroom's tv. when you see nancy's name you hesitantly answer the call.

"nance? is everything alright?"

"everything is great. i'm just here to check in about your next gig."

"my next- nance, im on vacation. please tell you didnt forget and booked me for a job when im across the ocean."

"no, im not that stupid, hon." she sighs. "i didnt even arrange this job, victoria did. im just the messenger."

you blink once. then twice. you remember vic saying something about helping you with a job but you honestly just thought that was bullshit to get her to come stay with you.

(or get in your pants. but you don’t think you’d be too upset about that now.)

“ok. thank you, nancy. tell me the details.”

it’s a lot more extravagant than you expected. victorias friend, an actual senator, was holding a fundraising event for some government program he and vic were both involved in. nancy wasn’t told what the program was, but that you would have to go through a security debrief before being told you'd be given a team to help you prepare. and picking from a selected closet of dresses. fun.

you ignore the feeling of nervousness that’s building up in your gut. because while all of your gigs were important, they were never this important. you push it down as you call victoria and thank her endlessly, when you tell your friends the minimum amount that you can tell them, and when victoria picks you up from outside your hotel twelve hours before the event even starts.

she pressed a small kiss to your hand, laughing at the grumpy and tired mumble you let out when you sit in the car seat. it only passes once she gives you a coffee she picked up, the caffeine waking you up and putting a smile on your face.

the content feeling turns into shock when you enter victorias' place and see zoe, vic throwing a short explanation of “busy babysitter” over her shoulder as she heads into the kitchen.

its a bit awkward at first, sitting on one couch as she plays on a black nintendo switch on the other. it helps when you ask her about whatever she’s playing, the girl diving into a rant about the farm game she’s playing and how she’s trying to catch a certain type of fish.

victoria comes back with a tray of breakfast for the three of you before asking her daughter how school is going, how her friends are, etc. its nice to get a glimpse into victories private life during the morning, the close bond she has with her daughter. you notice some tension but decide not to bring it up.

the morning goes by too quickly, zoe being picked up to be dropped off at a friend's house after giving you a sweet goodbye and you getting rushed upstairs as the team comes to the townhome to help you prepare. its a nice change, having other people doll you up instead of having to worry about trying to do everything correctly and by yourself. and its a perk you don't have to spend your own money to do it.

the team members are nice but punctual, finishing your hair and makeup in record time with not a second wasted. you barely get time to notice yourself in the mirror before you're ushered into a gorgeous gown, soft fabrics and a chic and elegant style.

when your finished you’re finally allowed to observe yourself while your transportation and is prepared, and it feels like you’re looking at a dream version of yourself.

as you admire yourself in the mirror vic comes up next to you, clearly enjoying herself as her eyes slowly drift up and down your body.

“you look…ethereal.” she whispers, pressing a small kiss to your cheek after you turn to smile at her.

“only because of you. i don’t know how i could ever make this up to you, vic. this is just…”

“trust me, you’ve already done enough.”

while you knew there would be some press at the event, you didn't expect over two dozen paparazzi to quickly start flashing their cameras in your direction as soon as you got out of your ride. questions about who you were wearing, the relationship you had with vic, etcetera etcetera. you would've buckled from the sudden pressure if it weren't for victoria’s steady hand on your waist, the press of her arm through her red pantsuit.

the venue is downright insane, so grand you start to wonder if you're in one of those gilded age mansions you used to read about in new york magazines. climbing pillars and art on the ceiling of the main hall, which you don't get to admire since you’re yet again whisked away to get ready.

after a few more touch ups you aren’t afforded a minute to prepare, guided to the edge of the performance area. the sinking feeling is back in your stomach. the biggest moment of your life and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

the lights dim and you glide onto the stage, able to see the shadows of the guests faces from the flickering table lights. it’s eerie, the amount of them staring up at you with eyes you can’t even see.

you were given a set list a few days prior, only a couple of songs for the payment you would apparently receive after this. the songs piqued your interest, a collection of classical melancholic pieces from around the fifties. vic told you her friend was a vintage nut, but you didn't know why he chose these for you to perform when the event seemed to have an uplifting aura.

either way it felt…different, singing this time. the spotlight was on you and you’ve never felt as beautiful as you did in this moment. everyone was watching you, so hooked on the melodies escaping your body that you could see the emotions brining some people to the edge of their seats.

you don’t let it show but you grow a bit anxious at the sight of supers in their uniforms in the crowd. you don’t see anyone from the seven, but you do notice a woman you recognized from some commercial about climate change and earth preservation, the green of her dress and the nature motifs in her outfit give you a clue as to what her power was.

just when you feel yourself about to slip, dangerously close to hitting a note at a weird pitch, you see victoria, getting deja vu at the sight of her staring at you from the bar like the first night you met. she's looking at you like she's never doubted you for a second, like you're an angel sent from above that's blessed her life.

you hold her gaze when you sing. noticing the soft smile on her face when you sing a lyric about how the feelings in your heart feel so intense you fear you're going insane.

when the first song ends the lights come back on and you're met with a polite yet thunderous applause, the smile on your face so wide your cheeks start to hurt. the presenter comes back on stage, praising your performance with a swipe at his eyes before telling the guests that the host would be on shortly, and after he gives a short speech you'd be back to sing some more. with a gentle nod and wave, you step off the stage.

you feel like you're walking on air, with no doubt that was one of your best performances yet. your emotions got a little intense there but nothing you couldn't manage, and everyone seemed to like it anyway.

you're able to send a quick text and a picture to jamie and chloe before you hear the sound of the door to your quaint dressing room open, not able to turn around before you feel hands around your waist and plush lips on the side of your neck, the sight of victoria wrapped around you in the mirror making butterflies swarm in your stomach.

"i take it you liked my singing?"

"like doesn't even begin to cover it," she mumbles into your neck, raising her head slightly to be able to hold eye contact through the mirror. "i'm so lucky i found you, y'know that?"

you playfully brush her off, telling her you have to freshen up for some mingling before you get back on stage. she gladly helps you with your makeup, and while you weren't expecting her to be so touchy tonight you definitely aren't complaining, especially when her hand starts to drift closer to the space between your legs. it takes an embarrassing amount of mental strength to deny her, promising you'll continue once you go back to her place.

once you're finished getting ready she leads you back out to the hall, introducing you to numerous business people, politicians, celebrities, etc. you try not to fangirl when you meet a singer whose songs you've been obsessed with lately and when she asks you to perform at her cousins wedding. victoria just smirks when she leads you away and you let out a tiny squeal under your breath.

once the networking is done you're able to take the time to sit down and eat some of the catered food, almost moaning at the tastes of the food. you sometimes forget just how good food could be in the states, and these rich people pulled out all the stops. you try not to eat too quickly or impolitely as victoria talks with her tablemates, some people from her job apparently. after the first introductions and praises they gave you you mentally tapped out of the situation. she luckily covers for you when they question your mood, laughing when she tells them you've had a long day of being treated like a singing barbie doll.

everyone in the room quiets down when the hos taakes the stage and starts his speech. he introduces himself as robert stendham, and you feel a little embarrassed that this man gave you the chance to sing here and you didn't even know his name. you're thinking about how odd it is that you weren't introduced before this when he mentions something about the program and you perk up.

"...extend a personal thank you to general jameson for finding the time to escape his duties to fly in and be here with us tonight, and a special thanks to director neuman for helping me with this project and finding the beautifully talented y/n to perform for us tonight."

there was a brief few seconds of applause, victoria looking around and giving out smiles while you wondered what the hell she was the director of.

"as you can see, we have a few supers with us tonight. people like hazelwood, whose efforts against climate change have lead to over a dozen organizations plating millions of trees and clearing millions of pounds of trash for the ocean. because that's what supers are supposed to do-protect us. not act like degenerates who get to do what they want because of their abilities."

your eyebrow twitches, sensing the slight anti-supe propaganda from the end of his speech. well, not anti every supe, just the ones who act like gods among men, which you could understand. but you still felt an uneasy feeling rising in your stomach. you feel vic's palm rest over the top of your hand under the table.

"which is why im incredibly honored that director and congresswoman neuman has extended a hand to me to invest in the federal bureau of superhuman affairs, and to further extend that hand to you to help participate in this monumental institution..."

everything is a fog and your brain taps out once he starts talking about what this burerua does, how they closely monitor supes and jail the ones who've caused public harm. your head feels hot and your chest feels cold, and you can't stop your body from going on auto-pilot and excusing yourself to the bathroom before finding some balcony on the higher floor.

the cold air of new york shocks your body back into normalcy, but the pounding in your head persists. it feels like a panic attack ut so much worse, like your fight or flight has been activated without anything even happening. had you rushed into all of this? chasing a girl and a dream like you were a teenager again?

yet again the door opens behind you and someone comes to stand next to you, able to tell who it is by the scent of brown sugar and the glimpse of dark hair blowing with the slight breeze.

"you alright? mr. brandon from the tech startup was asking about you, tried to make me invest in some room light plant grower hybrid-"

"why did you bring me here?"

you cut her off and the air is quiet, save for the sounds of cars and the city and the wind. it's weird, standing in a tense silence like this with her.

"how are you feeling?" she whispers .

"are you- " you turn, nearly giving yourself whiplash with the speed at which you turn to look at her. the look on her face, like she's just observing you and how you're reacting. it only upsets you more. "are you being serious?"

"yes, i am. tell me."

"no, answer my question first. why are you avoiding it?"

she sighs, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face before reaching to grab your hand, which you hesitantly let her hold.

"as you heard, im part of a buereau that monitors supherhumans, keeping track of them, making sure they cant use their powers for harm. so far we've only had to deal with supes here in the states. until one day, this couple comes in that believe their daughter has used her powers on them."

she reaches for something in her pocket and your grip tightens. she pulls out a polaroid and holds the picture up for you to see. you feel like you're going to vomit when you see you, smiling, standing with your parents in a backyard.

"what...what is this? how'd you get this?"

"the couple gave me this picture, and told me how weird the least few years have been. friends and family asking where their daughter went, how she was doing, a daughter they didnt even remeber having."

you bring a hand up to your head, hopelessly trying to dissipate the splitting headache that's forming.

"but then they said the memories started coming back. glimpses of a child running in the grass, birthday parties, graduations, talent shows-"

"stop, please just stop." you gasp, hunching over as good as you can with the restrictions of your gown. it doesn't even feel like the world is just spinning, it feels like its being played in some celestial game of pool. "so what, you're saying...you're saying i did that? to my parents?"

"yes," she reaches for the side of your face, guiding you to look up at her. "and you can do so much more. you already have."

this can't be happening.

"why do you think people react so emotionally to your singing? you think its just because you're amazing? that's not even half of it."

your breathing is picking up again.

flashes of memories start appearing in your vision. so many happy times with your parents that you forgot, friends that you left behind. how your parents didn't support your half-thought-out plan to become a singer, how you made them forget. made yourself forget.

"i don't want you to think i did all of this just for what i want. i didn't. i care about you, and i want you to help me. but you need to trust me."

the blood is rushing back and from your head, and you think about how weird her eyes look against the backdrop of the city before you pass out.

finally. FINALLY. ong i wrote like 1k in the past day because i said just get this shit over with but its done! 5 months later! hope you enjoyed :)

#the boys #the boys x reader #the boys series #the boys smut #gen v #gen v x reader #victoria neuman x reader #victoria neuman #victoria x reader #victoria neuman fluff #victoria neuman angst #victoria neuman smut

[revlischarm]

what are some of your favourite one piece hc's :?

Sorry this took so long I was jotting them down as I went. I’m sure I missed some of them because a few weren’t coming to mind but uhhhh. The list turned out way longer than I thought it would be!!

• All of the ones you listed because they’re great

• Transman Crocodile

• Transman Ace

• Sabo has a tattoo like Ace’s except on his right arm, and it says “SABO” but with the “A” crossed out. heheheheh ‘SBO’ lmao

• Sharp teeth Zoro supremacy

• Ace has narcolepsy

• Luffy has a tattoo of the dawn that doubles as a Strawhat on his forearm!! I saw that idea somewhere and I’ve just. Amassed it into my horde.

• Zoro getting the Strawhat Jolly Roger tattooed on his back after Luffy is King of the Pirates,,,my beloved,,,

• Luffy has a bracelet of beads like Ace’s after Marineford!!! So does Sabo :)

• Zoro instinctively likes doing things in sets of three’s. Has a thing when it comes to numbers and counting. I’m inflicting him with a very specific brand of OCD/Autism. I saw this stuff with him counting certain things in this one Lawzo fic?? Fucking amazing, highly recommend. I’m gonna link it here just for how incredible it portrays Zoro.

Seriously, even if Lawzo isn’t your thing, I recommend it alone just based on that particular Zoro trait.

• Robin can do an impeccable horror girl scream. You know the one.

• Zoro can do math in his head insanely quickly

• Zoro knows how to garden a bit after time on Kuraigana

• Luffy is super knowledgeable about bugs, actually! His favorite kind of insects are Atlas Beetles

• Sabo is fucking unhinged. Good for him. Would crush the skull of anyone who so much as looks at Luffy the wrong way.

• I’m partial to the idea that Luffy has a super high metabolism

• Zoro’s got an oral fixation (Luffy might too, actually)

• Colorblind Crocodile

• Zoro is agender!!! Mostly uses they/he, but honestly, I don’t think Zoro would fucking care what pronouns you use for them

• Luffy has a bad habit of gnawing on things, especially fingernails, when he’s hungry. Which begs the question, are his fingernails rubber as well? When they fall to the ground like rubbings from an eraser, do they too retain their elastic properties? Who can say. Do Luffy’s teeth fluctuate between solid and rubber. Is Luffy capable of breaking any bones at all. I have so many questions about the physics of devil fruits sometimes you have no idea

• Sanji smokes because it can stave off hunger; he’s also always the last to eat, waiting until everyone else has their meal before eating himself

• Law is a fucking nerd and I’ll say it. He’s absolutely the type to try and act/look cooler than he actually is and I think most of the fandom has fallen for that ruse. I love him still, tho. Pathetic wet meow meow. You are sad and depressing and a genuine freak. Good for you.

• I like thinking that Doflamingo is partially blind in one eye from getting hit by an arrow during his whole backstory as a kid, that’s why he’s always wearing the glasses. Yes I know he’s also wearing glasses as a kid, leave me alone, it’s between that and the idea that maybe he and Rosinante have some sort of light sensitivity, since they both have their eyes covered when they’re younger.

• Crocodile’s eyes are the most gorgeous shade of lavender I’ve ever fucking seen, I swear to god

• Goth family. Goth family. Goth family!!!! I don’t care how unlikely it is I FIRMLY believe that all three of them keep avid tabs on each other, and would 100% do frequent calls on den den if they weren’t affronted by the idea that it would seem needy(Idk if that’s the right word but. You know what I mean. They’re embarrassed to admit they care.)

• Zoro picked up a mishmash of behavioral traits from both Perona and Mihawk after the two years. Man knows how to do hair and paint nails now. Picked up a smidge of fashion sense from them both, too (and by that I mean goth)

• Law and Robin get along insanely well, they have the same sense of humor.

• Law loves anything even slightly bear-shaped. He has so many items that go along with the theme. Fucking loser nerd.

• Law also gets super moody on winter islands; I read a fic once where he tends to go to the local church whenever he visits one and. Yeah idk that felt right to me. Law’s got an overall SOMETHING of a relationship with religion (just based off some of what we saw with his childhood I think) that I’m not complex or knowledgeable enough to do a justified analysis of

• Sanji makes recipe books, and labels them with notes on what’s easiest vs more hard to make in case the crew ever needs that. Dude also absolutely has a notebook somewhere on how to prepare human meat should it ever come to that. The ideal way to mourn his passing. Consume the flesh of the fallen. Become feast.

• Sanji’s hands don’t have a single blemish on them, and he moistures them frequently, actually.

• Luffy gives platonic kisses to all of his crew mates!!! All of the love

• Franky sacrificed a lot of the feeling left in his body during the two year skip in order to get stronger for everyone :(

• Law has golden eyes, Zoro’s is silver, Luffy’s are an abyss of darkness. Like a bug!!!! Bug-eye luffy. He’s a creature to me.

• Luffy likes to walk up stairs on all fours

• I think another reason that Luffy’s built up such an immunity to poison is because he puts his mouth on literally EVERYTHING. Consumes so much that should be inedible and takes it in stride.

• On that note, I think that Zoro would deliberately ask Sanji to poison his meals sometimes just to build up his own resistance. Because that’s also the safest way to go about it honestly.

• Sanji burns really easily in the sun actually I think lmao. And he always has one part of his face that’s perfectly off-color

• The arm that Shanks lost was his dominant one :) that’s part of the reason Mihawk was so disappointed he lost it. He would sword fight with that hand. Any letters he tried to write to people came off as shaky and uneven for the longest time

• Zoro is ambidextrous. He can also write shockingly well with his mouth and his feet if need be. Fucker is absolutely planning to go multiple different sword styles one day. Cut off his legs, replace them with blades.

• Luffy will bite Zoro a lot just because. It’s Zoro. Why would he mind. Captain is just releasing pent up energy cause he got excited.

• Luffy is immune to getting acne—as well as most other skin conditions—since he’s made of rubber. Lucky bastard.

• Kidd has a ton of piercings that he can and will use as projectiles. He’s also 100% had tetanus and rabies as a child. It just fits.

• I think that—Zolu or not—Zoro was Luffy’s first kiss. Just based on principle. A captain and his first mate, sitting in a cramped dinghy for who knows how long together?? Listen, all I know is they must have talked about some weird shit. And Luffy probably mentioned that he’d never kissed anyone before if it was brought up, before going suddenly silent and then asking if he could kiss Zoro. Just because. And who’s Zoro to say no to his new captain?

• Sometimes Sabo will sit and just. Let himself be on fire. Just to see if he can feel Ace.

• I firmly believe one of the reasons Zoro and Sanji don’t get along is because of their differing views on woman—or more specifically, how Sanji acts with them that pisses Zoro off to an extent. And that’s due to the whole Kuina thing. The fact that Sanji would not only treat women like they’re glass, so capable of breaking and delicate, to the point where he refuses to so much as lay a finger (or toe in this case??) on them—it really fucking grates Zoro. If a person is demanding you to fight them on equal grounds, regardless of their gender, you shouldn’t disrespect them just because they’re female. Just feels like an insult. Cant fucking believe I gotta argue in defense of hitting women here because of you, Sanji

• Usopp has the second best observation haki on the crew—and I say second only because of the whole Luffy and Katakuri thing. Yeah. Third best would be either Zoro or Sanji, because we see Zoro specifically training with haki during the timeskip, and after losing an eye I refuse to believe that Mihawk wouldn’t give Zoro a pretty decent training in observation haki to make up for that. And Sanji just. Idk man he gives me the vibes, plus he always seems adept at being able to know when someone’s in danger (even if that’s only catering specifically to the female sex)

• I think that Zoro postures a lot whenever Luffy compliments Sanji or talks about how cool someone else is because he doubts his place on the crew a lot. Like. He’s just the swordsman, right? He’s a lot more replaceable than the other members of the crew, a swordsman isn’t totally needed to survive in the New World. Y’know. Stuff like that :)

• Zoro has a super high alcohol tolerance, so it takes a lot to get him drunk. He’s also got a high tolerance to most heavy sedatives.

• Zoro does the boob-grab thing to himself sometimes when he’s thinking. You know the one. I sure do. Hold the titty for comfort and serotonin.

• Law is an EXTREME control freak. Just in general.

• Zoro and Usopp are part of girls nights. Just because. They are.

• Transmac Usopp my beloved also—this is UNRELATED TO THE PREVIOUS HC. Usopp is part of girls nights because of his chill vibes!!!! Don’t get it twisted. I’ll bite you.

• Everyone is autistic. Not just the Strawhats, but like. Everyone in the One Piece universe. Luffy is the most autistic. He’s going to be King of the Autistics. His hyperfixation is pirates and he’s collecting crew mates like plushies at the end of his bed

Idk if I have more, I probably do just stirring around in my brain somewhere

#op #one piece #op headcanons #ask #Revlis speaks #thanks for the ask btw!!!! #I don’t get many asks haha #:3

[beansterpie]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

Thanks for tagging me @marley-manson! <3

I would tag people but it's late and my brain is tired so literally, PLEASE just adopt this tag meme if you see it and read the whole thing. You have my full permission to say I tagged you, even if we've never spoken lol. Go for it, be audacious.

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

43,487!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Well the posted fic is a Berserk fic, but I have various other wips that I pick away at when I'm bored. Among them include Eyeshield 21, MDZS, RotE, Harry Potter (technically?). Those are the most recent ones anyway.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Chain of Dissent, she's my favorite fic <3 (she's my only fic)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yeah I try to! Though I'll admit uhhhh I haven't updated it in... fucking? two years? god, and so I've been bad about responding to the more recent comments because I feel guilty for not updating in so long :') Really gotta get back to it.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

None, because I haven't finished a fic yet lol

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not so far! I've gotten a couple of comments that come across as unintentionally mildly rude, but definitely nothing that constitutes as hate.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Well not so far in CoD, but, ahem, I have written smut in one of my wips lol. Deeply self indulgent but I guess character driven? It's mildly nasty and desperate <3

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I haven't actually written a crossover (yet. well, recently) but they are a bit of a passion of mine lmao. I love ridiculous crossovers, and I'm talking about "a magical portal opens up and throws characters from fandom A into the world (& characters) of fandom B" type shit. I don't need the ways in which the characters interact to make sense, I just want them to be thrown together and see where it goes from there. Fish out of water shenanigans! Characters questioning their own motivations and idea of life by seeing a world entirely different from theirs!! Just like, fun shit! I also absolutely don't need for the two fandoms to be similar lol. I have a somewhat detailed Berserk/Eyeshield 21 crossover living rent free in my head so clearly anything goes.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Lol no.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I'll probably have to say GriffGuts, because it's a ship that's gripped me by the neck for the past 7 years or something, where my interest in it hasn't really waned.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Uhhhh, idk? I mean I am DETERMINED to finish CoD, so that's out. And the wips I write in my spare time are just like, things I do for fun where I don't put any pressure on myself over it. I'm not planning on posting them anywhere, and I'm not generally planning on 'finishing' them either. I mean if I do finish one, I might post it, but again, they're low key things that I'm not taking too seriously.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hm. I honestly don't consider myself a very strong writer, at least in terms of things like prose and sentence structure, grammar, that sort of thing. I think I'm pretty decent at figuring out the direction that I want the story to go, and all the individual steps that need to happen to get to that point in a way that feels organic (at least, imo.) And I like to think I'm pretty good at characterization-- having the characters behaving and reacting in ways that feel like could concievably happen in canon is generally what I'm going for.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Yeah prose, lol. I mean, I don't actually dislike my more.... utilitarian writing style, mainly because I generally prefer reading more direct writing (unless the lyrical writing is really really good), but I do think I could inject some more illustrative details and metaphors into my writing overall. @marley-manson is SO good at coming up with perfect metaphors to describe a situation or feeling, all while perfectly recreating the character's voice, and I really admire that about her writing!

I also want to get better with having characters like, doing things while they're talking. I find a lot of the conversations I write happen between characters just kind of standing around, which obviously is fine but I'd like to construct scenes with a bit more specificity in the future.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Wait so like, say in a fic that is otherwise written in English, having a line of dialogue written in Spanish when a character is speaking it? I... don't have strong feelings about it one way or the other I guess lol. I mean ideally the line(s) written in the other language are correct lol, and not just badly google translated or something.

Though you know, now that I think about it, I feel like it would work best between languages that use the same alphabet (which does end up narrowing the possible languages down quite a lot) because that way the reader can still sound out the dialogue even if the don't understand the language, which could emulate what the pov character is experiencing. Whereas if it was a fic written in English, and then had a line written in, say, Japanese, the reader wouldn't even be able to sound it out so it's kind of a brick wall. (Unless there's footnotes, but that tends to be a little more clunky in fic than in a published book with pages).

If the readers are supposed to understand the dialogue written in another language, like two characters suddenly start speaking in said other language and we're meant to keep up with the conversation, then I feel like it's just easier to translate their words in whatever language the fic is written in otherwise.

But yeah idk, I think with intent and good execution, anything can work, but it could also be done in a way that's more annoying than anything.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I think. It was neopets LMFAO. I remember writing a fic when I was like 10 about Hannah (the adventurer) and Jacques (from the maraqua plot comic) as a romantic couple because I was annoyed at the time that there were multiple fics about Hannah and Garin (or whatever his name was, also from the maraqua plot) getting together even though I thought Garin was BORING and they were just shipped together because they were both usuls (which are overrated imho), even though Jacque was obviously better.

... I may have had a crush on Jacques.

But the first fic that I think I posted anywhere was for Xiaolin Showdown lmfao, probably also when I was 10 or 11 or something. I wrote like four separate fics for that show.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Yeah it's CoD lol. It's the longest thing I've written so far, and I'm overall still very proud of it. I'd probably go back and change some things in the first chapter because it reads a little clunky and like, abrupt to me now, but I'm not doing that until I finish the fic. Allowing myself to go back and edit stuff before I've even finished the story seems like a road to ruin lol.

#tag meme #marley-manson #ty for tagging me! this was fun #but now i am yawning all over the place so I gotta sleeeepppp #have work in the morning rip

[tittyinfinity]

why didn't I think about starting a tenants' union whenever our apartment complex got bought out and they were repeatedly doing "cleanliness" inspections and ended up evicting people who had lived there for a decade or more. Then wanted to increase the rent by $100 a month with no updates to the inside of the apartments – they just painted the outside.

Part of me wants to go back there and try to organize them anyway bc it's not like they can evict me when I don't live there anymore

uhhhh how did I change the color palette as I was typing this (edit: it was shift+P and that's actually kinda cool but not as I'm typing a capital P lmao)

#.bdo

[asakiooi]

So I haven’t read the book yet but…

From my very obscured memory with the wiki sources and text pages, I will try to organize the timeline. Forgive me for the cracked explanation but this is how I remember the entire story lol.

Oooo Eru Illuvatar made some cool angels yipee, now to put some personality into them.

Wait why is one angsty.

Whatever, music time.

-Some period of time passing-

Alright now those cool angels know the art of music and creation and uhhhh, I guess Eru’s gonna make the world now.

-In the process of making the world Melkor continues being an ass-

Uhhh I forgot what happened after but Eru sends down his creations to form the rest of the world.

Oh cool lamps mind if I-

Never mind.

Okay so we have glowing trees now cool-

Bruh why is there a giant spider.

We need a light source cmon man.

-One light source project after-

Okay guys the elves are gonna awaken soon we need to guide them.

(Forget about the dwarves a certain someone made without anyone’s permission)

Oh what the fu-

Who stole half of the elves man.

What do you mean Melkor stole them.

What do you mean he’s gonna start a war wtf.

-War process yada yada-

Okay we gave him a timeout-

No Ulmo, he’s totally fine he’ll grow out of this phase stop being a hater

-Meanwhile Melkor goes on to seduce Mairon-

Er the elves are gonna awaken soon forget about the dwarves.

-Uhh something happens-

Yipee the elves are awake! Let the stars guide them to our island :3

Wait why are some leaving wtf.

No wait come back why are you leaving and making your own kingdoms.

Whatever we’ll just help the rest then.

Goddamn so many elves died.

-I forgot this part too-

Whew they’re finally on the island, what’s up guys.

Let’s teach them about crafts, music, and other stuff :3

-Time skip-

Oh shit an elven maiden died giving birth.

She doesn’t want to come back? And her husband wants to marry another girl? Uhhhh let’s consult the valar first.

Okay so, I guess we can make an exception.

But his son is not gonna be happy about it lmao.

-Ensue angsty childhood memories from Feanor-

Wow Feanor really hates his half siblings.

But that doesn’t matter because his craftsmanship is literally unmatched lol.

Oh he marries a nice girl? Surprising.

Wtf why is there 7 kids.

-Nepo baby stuff idk-

Oooo what is that, is that a glowing gem I see Feanor? Be careful, a certain goth head looks like he’s interested.

-Some stealing later-

What did I tell you Feanor he stole your shit.

Wait why are you holding a sword.

BRO-

-Some sword pointing and boat burnings later-

Ah yes, his seven (5) sons and the quest to find the glowing gems.

-Forgive me I forgot at which point Melkor became Morgoth lmao-

Alright so his crusaders made it to Middle Earth now what-

NOOOO GET OUT OF THERE RUUUN

-Bloodshed-

Damn, looks like his army didn’t survive.

-Uhhhh a series of unfortunate events leading up to the deaths of the sons one by one-

Wow Mandos is MAD mad.

-Some backround yet pivotal mortal stories-

Ah, it is I, Meadhros and the Silmaril, now how should I-

-Gem burns in his hand. He is in distress and throws himself into magma with the Silmaril or something.-

-Maglor goes to the beach casts the other Silmaril into the sea, wandering the sands until his spirit dies out-

-Some other backround stories that make up the rest of the lore-

-time skip-

Ah yes, it is I, Bilbo Bagginses.

#did I get that right or am I just high #the silmarillion #silmarillion #lotr #the hobbit #lord of the rings #tolkien #bilbo baggins #maedhros #Maglor #Feanor #Mandos is tired of this shit #Ulmo had the right ideas tbh #noldor elves #Melkor #Morgoth

[vacantgodling]

I think I missed something when I was sleeping, what's gofficka 👀 ?

ok so basically how all of this got started is my partner was watching a youtuber review a shitty dark academia romance book, and in listening i got incensed and was like dude i can definitely write something better than that! and then, very similarly to donut wip i ended up making a wip (who’s mc i really didn’t like at first and tbh i still don’t really like len like i wouldn’t be friends with her she annoys me. but i think she grows up ok lmao i mean she has to pff) and managed to make something that kind of interests me enough to try writing.

and i also wanted an excuse to try out the snowflake method of story writing/planning cuz i saw it floating around and tbh why not? why not just do a thing lol. but anyway! haha have an actual summary. like, a real one lmao:

Lennon Rhapsody Granger (17) is sent to a private prep institute for troubled youth after she gets expelled from school for the fifth time. There, she meets and becomes romantically involved with bad boy heartthrob Aurora O’Rion (18). Aurora is a lackey of a group called The Centurion, who do not take kindly to outsiders being so close to their secrets. Aurora is ordered to kill Lennon, and nearly succeeds—but foregoes the final blow to try and save her life. He hides Lennon with his best friend Morrigan (18), who works for the same organization, and together they try to get a presumed-dead Lennon away from The Centurion before they discover that she’s still alive.

and so like aside from the summary, have a “gist of” explanation lmao

basically the things that i’m drawing from with this wip (nicknamed gofficka LMAO) is

dark academia (it’s set at a prep school, there’s the usual tropes of secret societies, bad boy love interests etc)

gothic romance (the twisted romance angle)

the YA genre (this story is very unintentionally inspired by twilight 💀)

erotica (bc why not)

however some notes on that. firstly being, in YA romance similar to twilight, the mc girl character is supposed to be a self insert for the reader and i want to start the story giving it that vibe, however about halfway through when the Big Shift happens, i’m gonna be veering down a road where 1. len very obviously has her own personality 2. she’s not really a good person (bc a lot of these mcs, BELLA ESPECIALLY, are very shite tbh but everyone regards them as some perfect angel somehow? don’t get it) and most importantly 3. she’s going to be called out on that. especially by morrigan lmao.

also, the “love triangle” (it’s really a love angle but whatever) in these stories is usually centered around the main girl and len has the same assumption too, however it’s revealed that the love angle’s central spoke is around aurora, not len. morrigan is gay, and tbh he’s my lowkey favorite pfff but aurora and len are growing on me. anyway tho he provides a shock of clarity for the narrative, imo—that wanting to love and forcing it isn’t what love is (to me). that there’s more to it than just being attracted to someone, which tbh a lot of YAs just kind of think is close enough. there’s no real chemistry and no attempt to show the complexities of actually genuinely loving someone. sO yeah.

also, the bad boy, aurora? he’s actually bad lol. he almost kills len pff and len having and dealing with ptsd surrounding that situation is also a thing. him being put into a position where most YAs would have him chose the love interest i decided to make him choose something else. because a new love isn’t going to be that strong and that’s the whole point to me??? that love alone isn’t going to solve all these crazy problems. it can contribute to fixing them and becoming strong but idk everything is more complex than that.

i have a lot of feelings about the complexities of romantic love and i hate when it’s cheap so i’m gonna make it. uhhhh not that.

but anyway the actual organization isn’t the point of this story. my brain WANTS me to make a sequel after this book just so i can explore the three of them in a pretty properly functioning polycule where there’s spokes and not full angles but we’ll have to see pffff

#yeah sorry for the Long Rant tm #s: gofficka

[dietbajawater]

(A/N): Adventures of Eddie and Ally maybe? Im not sure wtf this is tbh, I just randomly started writing lmao

__________

“So how are things lately?” Steve asks, shelving a couple movies while I fix a button on my vest.

“Well, I….I met Eddie”, I confess, looking at a few of the tapes Steve is organizing. “The other day, I met him, and I just…”

“You what?” Steve replies, turning to look into my eyes. He seems concerned.

“I really wanna kiss him”

Steve chuckles, “That’s cute, hun, that’s real cute.” He sounds a little bit upset, despite the small laugh.

“Are you mad?”

“No I’m not mad, Ally. I just remember when you were talking about me the same way.” He sighs.

A laugh escapes from my mouth and I quickly cover it, embarrassed. “Sorry, Stevie.”

My face burns hot. It’s not that Steve isn’t attractive, he’s just not really my type. Which does suck because we do get along pretty well. We have kissed a few times but honestly I think it was situational.

“It’s not that funny”

Robin walks out from the back room. “What’re you laughing about?”

Steve says jokingly, “Ally wants Eddie to fuck her”

Robin giggles, rolling her eyes, “Ew gross”

I shrug, defending myself, “I can’t help it. Y’all just don’t get it”

Robin says, “Nono, I get it. He’s a little perv and you like that”

“He’s not a perv” I shoot back.

“Uhhhh, yeah. He is. I’ve seen him staring at your boobs quite often. Or that time at the party when you bent over in your Halloween costume. Eddie was definitely on the verge of grabbing your ass in front of everyone”

I blush, a little taken aback. I ask, “You saw that, like…for sure?”

Robin nods. “Yeah, and I almost threw up. He was like a dog to a bone.”

“Interesting.”

“Interesting? You’re actually thinking about Eddie, huh?” Steve asks, a hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah. I mean it didn’t really work out with us, yanno”

Steve takes his hand off my shoulder, growing silent with each passing second. Fuck. I might’ve hurt his feelings.

“Steve” I begin to say.

“I’m fine, hun. Don’t worry about it.”

I look at Robin for help, but she’s making an awkward facial expression that tells me she’s not getting between this.

________

Lemme know if you like it because I had no idea where I was going with it. Maybe someone can put it to some use! Just tag me if you do 🫶🏻

Good day all ❤️

-Ally

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #dietbajawater #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #minors begone #18+ only #my blog is for adults #eddie munson x reader #robin buckley

[hexfloog]

🍀🍋🌚

hi kuro ⸜(*ˊᗜˋ*)⸝

🍀 what is your comfort show/series and why is it your comfort show? How has it helped you?

uhhhh bbbbbb i've brought it up a few times before but for real it's the closer. except for early detco there's no other show i come back to more frequently. aside from it just being a banger (read: well-written) police drama with an extremely organic-feeling and cohesive cast of diverse characters, brenda is a flawed, unabashedly female-- and human-- protag in a position of power who probably served as a window into recognizing some of my own internalized misogyny growing up.

i wish i had literally anyone to talk to about it. it peaked in the mid-aughts on primetime tv and idk if it has a surviving online fandom

🍋 favorite genre to read / watch / write

to read: horror

to watch: action/adventure

to write: also horror lmao

🌚 a show you’d tell people to stay away from

so not that anyone asked but generally a piece of media has to really offend me in some way in order to wind up on my shitlist. the vast majority end up in various tiers of "okay" - which is not necessarily a bad thing, it just leaves more room for things that truly leave a lasting impression on me in either direction.

now uhhh i don't watch too many shows period (it would be easier to do this with film) but deadass the only show i can think of that i've both watched all the way through and come out hating is probably hellsing ultimate SORRY EVERYONE

i watched it because (1) it was distantly influential (like... omnipresent but only in my periphery) when babby hex was still pulling inspo from the anime scene of the time and (2) i got so, so many reccs for it from the people around me who knew i loved horror. i wanted to like it but very quickly discovered i actually hated it.

i've kind of put it out of my mind but off the top of my head, it shot way past my (admittedly very low-tolerance) suspension of disbelief very quickly, sucked really hard at being funny when it tried, and actually felt all-around distasteful in its... choices with the baddies. if you know you know

edit: to actually answer the question i would not recommend hellsing ultimate on account of its egregious tone problem and other distasteful story choices. i've seen the counterargument that its attempts at humor are "the point," that it's "supposed to be making fun of itself," but if it is it fails on just about every level. i don't even consider it a fun watch as camp horror schlock.

oops the post got long actually skjdhfksdj thank you for letting me ramble!!

ask game

#ask #ask game #kuroko99

[sunkern-plus]

game i got tagged in thanks to awesome bestie @hydrostorm

Are you named after anyone?

my deadname is after meg from little women but my real chosen name(s) are after:

-unfortunately, the hetalia france character (francis)

-the spiders georg meme (george)

-francis laine came up with francis laine back in 2013-2014

-francis kyle just came up with kyle on the spot to differentiate themself from me

-my current username is named after the pokemon sunkern and plus because i’m a median system

-my other names come from teddie (the persona bear guy) only mine is spelled teddy, jean after jean pierre polnareff, and that’s it

When was the last time you cried?

when i was watching “are you there god, it’s me margaret” and my mom said she’d never take me to a movie like that cuz i cried so much...:(

Do you have kids?

i can’t safely give birth because i have a literal seizure disorder i somehow developed when i was 14 and if i go off my seizure meds for even a week i will seize at some point, but i do plan on adopting or doing like. surrogacy or something when i marry. the love of my life ashley bee beebeetle

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

i’m not good at it

What sports do you play/have you played?

i like to swim casually

What's the first thing you notice about other people?

uhhhh i don’t know really. i don’t think i’m good at noticing things in general lmao

Eye colour?

i can’t tell if they’re blue or gray tbh

Scary movies or happy endings?

lately i’ve been enjoying scary movies because i watched utopia uk and that was on my mind for a solid week even after the first episode i want to watch so much more

Any special talents?

analyzing fictional characters really hard

Where were you born?

a hospital in fredericksburg virginia because i was a preemie and my mom was literally bleeding out and would’ve died and i also would’ve died

What are your hobbies?

talking to people, drawing, writing, playing video games, reading, researching stuff (depending on what my academic special interest is at the moment)

Do you have any pets?

jasper...my baby boy....i love him i wish he would live forever without health problems

How tall are you?

5 feet exactly :pensive:

Fave subject in school?

engwishh

Dream job?

anything where i get to write or librarian, i love stacking and organizing books believe it or not

i tag @hyperlilitheve @saikyo-rat @beebeetle @balljointedbevy @wygolvillage and anyone else who likes me a lot

[aria-ashryver]

Sooo... how did it go? 👀

mmm,, there's been some updates. Good news and bad news really, but mostly good!

Incoherent rambling under the cut bc I spent 7 hours at the hospital today and my brain is full of bees from all the information 😅

I was able to chat to my oncologist before I started to go over the results of my CTs / bone scans / MRIs / echocardiograms and stuff.

Cool news! I qualify for that new drug now! My treatment plan has been updated - we've jumped from a 45% chance to a 75% chance of completely shrinking Caesar's lame ass by the time I'm scheduled for surgery!

The uhhhh... less cool news is the reason I qualify. It's not stage 2 cancer anymore. The feisty little bitch seems to have spread to my bones. Doctor is about 80% sure I have stage 4 cancer. Need another type of CT to confirm. Big yikes?

More cool news though! It's only in my bones in one place! And super small! So, less yikes 😊 And the chemo treatment I'm getting anyway will attack that directly as well, so hopefully that wipes it out completely. Caesar tried to send out troops to annex my hip joint and instead of leaving a unit of cavalry like a cancer that knows what its doing, he was like "eh, one dude with a slingshot and will do". (Spoilers: it won't) What a dumbass 💅

The upshot is, instead of having chemo every 3 weeks like originally planned, I'm now getting it weekly. Stage 4 sounds terrifying, yes, but it's not in my brain, not in my organs, it hasn't spread widely in my bones, so even though in the past, a diagnosis like this would have been incurable and given me a projected lifespan of like `15-20 more years to live at best, research and treatment options have come a loooong way. My awesome funky Doctor is still very convinced that a full recovery is on the cards.

Also, weirdly enough, having chemo every week will mean a more consistent routine that should actually leave me less fatigued than my initial treatment, so, another win!

We dicked around so much with changing my drug treatments and pre-and post-chemo meds that I only got to run 2/3rds of my treatment today (they didn't want to give me the final, riskier bag of poison juice bc it was after hours by the time I got through my first few bags, most of the doctors were headed home for the day) (looong day, oof) so I'm heading back in for more chemo tomorrow lol.

(Yes, my shirt says "HELL & BACK". I thought I was being hilarious. Also haven't done laundry in a minute)

Also, my Doctor just casually told me that one of the anti-nausea meds that he prescribed for me was $6K a pop 🤯 I GET A NEW PACK EVERY WEEK CAN YOU IMAGINE IF I LIVED IN THE US OMFGGGG. even the PET-CT scan he's ordered is like a $3000 procedure. I love this guy. He's getting me all the bougie shit 😂

Oh! Oh and another thing! If I do need surgery on my bone cancer (which, even a few years ago could have rendered me permanently unable to walk, just with the kinds of approach they'd have to take of physically cutting the affected area out), now there's a minimally invasive surgery they can do called SABR (its a targeted radiation thing) so now im straight up imagining myself being operated on with lightsabers which is high-key hilarious.

Been a bit of a rollercoaster today, but I'm still in ass-kicking mode and despite being concerning, things are looking weirdly good 💪💪💪

Thank you for unintentionally being my cancer diary vent space for the day kitty lmao. You're an absolute gem 💗💖💕💝

#aria pincushion tally: 37 #caesar is a loser score: a million

[oathkeeperoxas]

Hello Serie!!! I would love to hear about 10, 18, and 20 for the behind the scenes asks. <3<3<3

10. Do you enjoy writing dialogue, exposition, or plot the most?

Exposition-->dialogue---->plot

I CAN write plot but like... its hard lmao. Much more filling and satisfactory to throw characters with their messy emotions at each other until some sort of conclusion happens

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

uhhhh well the thing is I have a Bad memory for things I have posted and so as soon as I post them the content is Gone from my brain... with some rare exceptions. Basically the entirety of invidia sticks out to me as good in like, a composition way, as I feel like I combo'd plot, vibes, metaphor, backstory, crunchy ideas and tension in a really neat way. But you already know that, so instead I'll talk about some of my oneshots from my codywan on tatooine series (I can't just pick one sorry they are my babies)

in what's real and going on below I finalised a few thoughts about how I was going to process trans Obi-Wan in not only that verse, but basically ALL of my writing. Slapping characters with my trans headcanons is all well and good, but over the last year and a half I've put a lot of myself into him 🥺 and I've basically teetered between going full wish fulfilment and then yoyoing back to my reality and everything in between. So much fic with trans characters has pregnancy as a straight up part of the integral plot, as if that is the only time we're allowed to be visible outside of porn - giving myself permission to explicitly push back against that as someone who has 0 desire to ever be pregnant was very cathartic. Writing Obi-Wan saying NO it is not possible for him to be pregnant and even if he could be he would not WANT to be, was just... a lot, and I didn't expect it to be! Not to say that I will never write about a trans pregnant person (I literally have pregnant Obi-Wan fic posted right now) but freeing myself from that expectation even to myself was quite the weight off that I didn't even realise was there. On a less serious note I also enjoy this fic as it was born out me memeing to myself when editing chapter 1 of darkest before the dawn and going 'lmao they rly just fucked raw and Cody didn't give ONE thought to the possible consequences. sex ed on kamino must be shit' so also following up on that was satisfying from a writing/plot perspective

in a state of constant repair there was a lot going on - it was fun to do from a composition view as it is kinda a 5+1 fic with the snippets taken from across the entire timeline of the series it belongs in, and getting to revisit some of the earlier era was fun, especially to look at where the gaps were and what happened offscreen, and what I actually wanted to show onscreen. My favourite part was tying up all the threads that I had dropped in the previous 150k of the series regarding the history that Cody and Obi-Wan were writing of the war and the TRUE story of the clones, which I started in darkest before the dawn and expanded a little on within Evolve | Revolve and which made me go yess hahaha yesssss because I am quite taken with history, have studied it and contributed to it, and throwing my irl interests in with my fandom interests sparks joy! So giving that power, closure, and release to Cody through the ability to write his own history and choose his own story just, slaps very hard okay

in sky's a changin' I think I am quite proud of how I threaded the needle of all the topics I wanted to cover - Luke's questioning of his past, his father, his name, and where he came from, versus his burgeoning understanding of the Force, of Ben and Cody, and of the mysterious past that he's starting to see that binds them all together. He's growing up! Getting all that info together in a way that felt organic and fit into a fic under 5k felt like a real achievement.

What’s your favourite minor character you’ve written?

BERU!! Me starting my codywan on tatooine series like yeah she's there, meanwhile she storms up to me, shakes me and tells me her entire character like WHAT happened there. Then she was ready to blast guys in the Kenobi show too which made me all the more fond of her <3

Thank you for the questions!!!

Behind the scenes writer's ask meme

#this is probably... more than you thought you'd get haha #but i am doing my end of year reflecting and thinking and like. man. i covered some ground this year huh #ask meme #elwenyere

[moths-wc-aus]

heeeeey sorry if this is like. the 3rd ask you get from a random anon dropping links in your inbox, tumblrs being werid af to me about sending things in so i just wanted to make sure this actually got to you and figured maybe actually giving some context would be a bit more helpful lol! im the one responsible for like. a waaaall of youtube links and one from a like. garden website?

anyways! did a little quick google pingpong, and i couldnt find a proper name for the 'clay' or beads made from flowers (most common term i did see was either rose beads or memory beads, tho that seemed to be mostly used by places trying to sell you them!) a few things called the clay a dough, but searching for that just got me cooking resources whoops

i also saw almost exclusively roses in my looking; tho i did see a few mention using any 'sturdy/hardy' flower like roses and tulips if made directly from fresh and onlynfrom flowers. i did also see a few more interesting varieties made with dry flowers but they were all mixed with clays - the flowers being used to color/texture/pattern the clay. i did also see a few made note of how the oxidation process of turning petals to dough affects colors (white roses becoming more beige/grey for ex) and how things could be added to change the color - and even scent - of the beads

and uhhhh yeah. couldnt find a lot of academic support or historical evidence saddly, but i do have a few tutorials that i found which might help give an idea on how to adapt them for cats? oh! and i found a random video on making beads from scrap cloth which i thohght might also be a neat idea to adapt for the cats - cloth scavenged from twolegs in close proximity and glue substitute being plant starch/sap/resins/etc - either as an off shoot from cats not in thunderclan anymore or as an addendum to TC because of their close proximity to humans?

www . gardeningknowhow . com / garden-how-to / projects /how-to-make-rose-beads . htm

m . youtube . com / watch ?v= MKf3Nc8Szpg

m . youtube . com / watch ?v= CKI_1j_F8Kc

m . youtube . com / watch ?v= ET39DCTSMFc

m . youtube . com / watch ?v= wYSubHslgFo

https : / / feltmagnet . com / crafts /rose-beads

tysm!!! i got one of your other asks (maybe two of them? idk) and they were super helpful!! i've begun organizing all this into a playlist i can watch through later

oh man i have so much knowledge of flower beads now lmao

thank you again!! this was so very kind of you to look into for me <3333

#warrior cats #warriors #ask #anon

[tsuki-sennin]

Don don don donbura? Oh yeah, we were all fused together last week! What sorta uncharacteristic and wacky adventures will we get into THIS time? Haha! Haahhh... oh, I am not ready.

Spoilers, I guess...

-"So uh... are you guys trying to organize?"

-"You're our leader, Tarou-san! I thought we should all get up to speed."

-Awwww, they have a little plushie representing him, that's cute.

-Whose is it tho?

-Haruka seems very insistent on calling Tsubasa a pupper.

-Doggo = Doggo! It's so obvious!

-"Uhhhh, okay, sure."

-Hot, hot, hot towel!

-"Your hands seem just fine to me, Miss."

-Wow, smooth.

-Daaaaamn, Don Kaito pulls.

-Yes, they serve wine, and you can't have any. Sowwy.

-"You all fucking suck. You're a meta parody away from being the next Akiba Yellow, you're a whiny little bitch, and you're so full of hot air that I could use you to run a balloon service."

-He doesn't get a "Mister", I'm-

-"Please praise us, we're starved for affection :<"

-OHHHH THAT IS SO HARSH HOLY FUCK GLIHJLGK

-"He died before he could call me his little pogchamp the way Miho does :<"

-Pencil...

-Sonoi-san :(

-He just wants to art :(

-Pige...

-OHHHHHHH IT COMMUNICATES

-Sononi jkhlgvhkl

-Feesh :o

-Clounfeesh...

-Doggy?

-Don Clan :O

-I mean... he calls himself Don Momotaro pretty loudly, idk how you guys didn't notice

-Oooooooh, Ideon... that's a really cool name, holy shit.

-"We must kill the Funny Red Man for the sake of our dimension! I will have no regrets doing so whatsoever!"

-Oooooooh, Natsumi's a hairdresser...

-Thaaaaat's another layer to this conspiracy.

-Yeah Tsubasa, you look great :)

-"Oooooooooooh, you're a bad boy!"

-Ohhh, he was about to throw hands.

-Aaaaaaah, there's Miho-san!

-Just missed 'im!

-Wow, this lady's like... the worst lmao

-It's a housewife battle ground.

-Hitotsu-ki confirmed!

-Daaaaamn, Sonoi!

-What a legend.

-Oooooh, there he is! That funny mailman you like!

-"Human beings kinda suck, huh?"

-"Yeah..."

-I wonder...

-The companions are unionizing. Shinichi at the forefront.

-Beautiful lies...

-"Oh you're totally fine man. You kinda redeem humanity in my eyes :)"

-Ohhhh, Inoue, you're busting my balls here.

-He's even inviting him out I'm :sob:

-Oh come now, Tarou, maybe hes just a foreigner!

-Is that samba? ...Zyuden-ki?

-Don Time!

-"Hahaha!"

-Huh... the petulant overly honest madlad and the lonely histrionic widow fighting each other alone...

-OOOOOOOOOOOOH THEY SEE EACH OTHER NOW

-Oden cancelled. Damn...

-"My name... is Sonoi."

-Fuck this show, man :sob:

-Oh, we're back!

-Oh, doggy!

-"Where are the rest of you morons!?"

-"They're unionized!"

-"The fuck does that mean!?"

-Heeeeeey, Saruhara? I realize you're proving a point, but like

-WOW YOU BROKE FAST

-"Soooooooo... did we do a good job? :>"

-"Hahahahah~! Stay away from the blasty ends, my peons!"

-Robotaro Zan~!

-Epic.

-Yes Haruka, you're the leg. Leggy.

-"My fuckin' losers! Let's kick ass once more!"

-"Taste me delicious Peach Kebob!"

-Oh hi, housewife lady.

-SLASHED

-Oh my god, he gave out his weakness.

-OHHHHHH HE DEAD

-He vamoosed!

-Momotani Jirou!?

-Why is dressed like an asshole?

-Ohhhh, it's about that time, isn't it?

-For our sixth. Uhhhh, I believe his name was Don Doragoku? And he can also become Don Torabolt? Tiger and Dragon! A combination Gold and Silver! Just like Noel Takao~!

-He's got a halberd, from the looks of it. Seems like that's his changer. He's also got a little shield-y thingy, from the looks of it. Kinda reminds me of the Tajaspinner.

-Uhhhhhh, I believe I'll be seeing you next week. So... so yeah...

#donbrothers #donbrothers spoilers #avataro sentai donbrothers #don! don! it's a full force peachy festival! #super sentai #taro tuesday

[lesbiandeerstory]

surprise, i posted another deer script! :D

now here is my obligatory commentary track, bcuz if there’s one thing i love as much as writing, it’s talking about writing!

so first of all, fans of sunlight underground will be right at home with this chapter lmao. i gotta say, it is extremely fun for me to write a protagonist who is as weak and pathetic and helpless as acorna is. she is such a fail girl and i love her so much.

she spends the first chapter being terrified and then getting stabbed, and she spends this second one getting bullied and talked over. it’s great!

the big theme of this treatment of the story is POWER DYNAMICS, and acorna makes for an interesting protagonist for this theme bcuz she rests in an interesting place wrt power dynamics.

she has a massive amount of political power, being the favorite person of the world’s sole ruler, but that power only exists in theory, and in practice she has no power in any part of her life. her magic is weak, she’s physically frail, her position as the world ruler’s favorite person puts massive pressure on her and limits what she can and can’t do, etc.

acorna being so weak and her knight being so strong is a clear indicator of the power dynamics at play, and yet at the same time archangel is a humble low level worker, she leads a camp of no name soldiers who do grunt work for the government. despite having age, experience, and magic power over acorna, acorna has complete political power over archangel; if anything happens to acorna, archangel knows that vritra will put her fucking head on a spike.

archangel and acorna are both very strong in their own ways, but the ways in which they’re weak completely negate what strength they have.

speaking of archangel! we get to see a very different side of her in this chapter; she genuinely loves acorna, but has very little care or patience for the other soldiers under her command.

she just wants to be free and go on adventures with the ppl she loves, she didn’t ask for all this fuckin responsibility, and not only does she not like it, she’s not good at it either. but she has to rise to the occasion and be the responsible one, bcuz she doesn’t have the power to say no, especially to princess vritra.

i realize i’m kinda tooting my own horn here a bit, but i can’t even express how refreshing and exciting it is for after two years of struggling with this story to see everything coming together and working in such perfect interconnected harmony. like doing one of those 1000 piece jigsaw puzzles and finally starting to see the picture come together.

and one of the big things that’s helped everything come together is ORDERS... which actually before i get into that, i do wanna briefly mutter about a mild terminology issue i wrote myself into.

y’see orders refers in this treatment to massive organizations of deer, y’know kinda like standard knight organizations in fiction, but also “orders” has historically in lesbian deer story been a term to refer to small magical amphiamorous polycules.

i like both ideas alot, and i haven’t decided yet how i wanna resolve the terminology issue. for now i’m using “order” to refer to the big organizations cuz the magical polycules aren’t relevant in the prototype, so they get lower priority rn.

anyway orders! what are those??? acorna and archangel, among others, are mentioned to be members of the order of the shield, and the order of the storm is also mentioned. the concept will be explained slowly over the course of a few chapters, tho honestly i feel like i probably could’ve explained more in this one. this chapter will definitely need pretty heavy edits later on but i’m happy with it for now ANYWAY.

there are nine orders, and every deer upon entering adulthood joins one of them and learns the magic unique to that order. magic in deer world is powered by collective belief, so the members of a given order all believing in their magic is what makes it real.

unfortunately this does mean that i had to uhhhh... [takes a long drag of a cigarette and sighs] make a new magic system. long time viewers of this blog will no doubt be intimately familiar with my bloody struggle to conjure up a usable magic system, and in hindsight most of this battle was self-inflicted, completely unnecessary, and frankly embarrassing.

that said, the most recent system i came up with, what with the colored auras and such, IS RLY GODDAMN COOL. i like it alot and have no problems with it, but the concept of orders came packaged with its own magic system that was woven into the very fabric of the setting so here we are. i wanna use the color aura system for something still tho. anyway nobody make fun of me plz.

also for big fuckin lore nerds like me, which u probably are if u have read thru THIS MUCH TEXT on a fuckin commentary track for a story that doesn’t even exist yet, the nine orders are as follows:

Sun, Mind, Shield, Storm, Moon, Pain, Death, Blood, and Shadow.

each of the protagonists belong to a different order. that was kinda the whole idea, was to give each protagonist a special thing they could belong to, and if u have a group of special things in a story u HAVE to have a protagonist for each one, that is the LAW.

“iris there are nine orders and six protagonists what’s up with that????” >:3c

anyway one thing i gotta improve on as a writer is scenes with alot of fuckin’ characters in ‘em. like there’s this scene in this chapter where popstar and wolfberry are yelling at each other and mosaic is there poking fun at them both, but acorna the pov character is completely just like not even there. she’s just sitting there bro. which is not a great use of ur pov character.

speaking of wolfberry, popstar, and mosaic tho (and hawthorn), they are all in this chapter! every single character in the story (mostly) are organized into pairings of a knight and muse. this contradicts the daily deer lore where all the characters were in three person groups, and none of the pairings we’ve seen have matched what we saw in the daily deer.

OR DOES IT CONTRADICT AT ALL ACTUALLY???? it doesn’t. the idea is that the characters will start from their newly assigned pairings and will work their way to who they were with in the daily deer, the idea being that the juxtaposition between these relationships creates a functionally infinite well of story material to draw on.

like for example we have wolfberry and hawthorn. how does wolfberry go from being a member of the order of the shield to working with heather and begonia?? at the end of this chapter we meet le doeyon, and in the daily deer it was with hawthorn! how do they become friends??

these questions and more are probably not being asked by anyone, cuz that would require ppl be way invested in the lore that i wrote over a year ago BUT!!! *I* am EXTREMELY invested in it and extremely interested in seeing the characters go from point a to point b, and then seeing where they go from point b. it’s exciting to me, and it gives me a tangible arc for each character that is IMMUTABLE, bcuz the daily deer thing exists and i can see it with my eyes.

we won’t be seeing much of popstar, wolfberry, mosaic or hawthorn for a while after this tho, and that’s by design. alot of characters in this treatment get introduced super quickly and then immediately forgotten, with the idea that i’ll bring them back later not only when u least expect it, but when i can bash their arcs into other characters’ arcs in fun an unexpected ways. it’s a long con, but one i’m excited to pull off.

#deer lore #dev lore