This person explains very well why Zutara is yin and yang in relation to Tui and La.
#phm#ryland grace#rocky the eridian#project hail mary spoilers






seen from Singapore
seen from Yemen

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Somalia
seen from Canada

seen from Singapore
seen from TĂźrkiye
seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia
seen from Canada
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from Canada

seen from Singapore
This person explains very well why Zutara is yin and yang in relation to Tui and La.
currently on part five of push and pull by @sturnlsstuff and omg
why did i not start reading this shit sooner???
basically i hate fratboy!chris so far (no i donât, i need him)
heâs insufferable (more like irresistibleđ)
andddd i want to jump through the screen and shake sassy!reader to snap her out of it bcs SHES CATCHING FEELINGS AND HES GONNA HURT HURT HER SO BAD, I JUST KNOW ITđ
anyway
iâll update yall
PRIVATE DANCER
PART 1, PART 2
Warnings: Explicit language | Strip clubs | physical fights |Sexual content | Jealousy| toxic rivalry|
Summary: When Nero hires a new dancer at Diosa, business starts booming â and so does the trouble. Fierce, sexy, and untouchable, you own the stage and bring in the crowds, but not everyoneâs happy about it. Jealousy brews among the other strippers, and when SAMCROâs President, Jax Teller, sets his eyes on you, the stakes rise higher than ever.
Part One: Smoke and Starlight
Diosa had seen plenty of skin, sweat, and perfume before you ever stepped foot on its hardwood floors, but the first night you hit the pole, the air shifted.
Two weeks later, it wasnât just the tequila or the scent of vanilla candles that had men stumbling through the door â it was you.
Dark hair swinging like a whip, eyes sharp as broken glass, body moving with a kind of liquid control that made grown men forget their wivesâ names. You didnât sell pussy â you didnât need to. The stage was your kingdom, the pole your weapon, and every time you slid down, knees bent and lips curled into a dare, bills rained like confetti.
Even Nero noticed. Hell, especially Nero.
He leaned against the bar that Friday night, sipping whiskey, his eyes flicking between the packed floor and the sight of you hanging upside down, muscles flexing as you caught the spotlight.
Alvarez had given him shit about hiring another dancer â âAlready got enough girls grinding on poles, homes.â But Nero knew better. You werenât just another girl. You were heat and danger wrapped up in high heels and glitter.
âClub ainât been this full sinceââ Venus started, perched on a stool, sipping something pink with a cherry.
Nero cut her off with a nod toward you. âSince her.â
Thatâs when Jax Teller walked in.
President. Blond hair messy like heâd just come off a ride, kutte hanging open, cigarette dangling from his fingers. He wasnât here for pussy â at least not tonight. Diosa was business, a safe place for deals and distractions. But Jax had been running hot all week: club politics, guns, Taraâs ghost always clinging to his ribs. He needed something to take the edge off.
And then he saw you.
Not the bills stuffed in your thong, not the drunk bastard reaching too close. Just you. The way you arched, spun, and stared at the crowd like you owned every last one of them.
âJesus Christ,â Jax muttered, low, dragging smoke into his lungs.
Nero smirked, clapping a hand on his shoulder. âTold you, hermano. Sheâs the reason this place got fire again.â
Jax didnât answer right away. His blue eyes tracked you as you dismounted, strutting down the stage with bills fanned in your hands like a queen holding court.
You caught him looking. Oh, you knew that look. Youâd seen it a thousand times from men who thought they were predators. But this one was different. His stare wasnât hungry â it was steady, curious, like he was waiting to see what youâd do next.
So you gave him a show.
Winked. Bent low to scoop a crumpled twenty from the floor, ass swaying like you were born to tease. When you straightened, that smirk tugged at your lips.
Jaxâs mouth curved into something dangerous. A half-smile, half-warning.
Game on.
Later, in the dressing room, the air was thick with powder, sweat, and cheap perfume. Some of the other girls side-eyed you while peeling off sequins and counting cash. They didnât like how the clients followed you around like dogs. Didnât like that Nero treated you like his golden ticket.
Cherry â red wig, sharp nails, mean streak â slammed her locker. âAinât fair, the way you gettinâ all the shine. Some of us been here bustinâ ass for years.â
You snapped your gum and leaned back in the chair, tossing your wad of bills onto the counter. âMaybe if your lazy ass could actually climb the pole without looking like a drunk giraffe, youâd get more tips.â
The room erupted in laughter. Cherryâs face went crimson.
âYou bitch.â
âYeah,â you said, blowing a bubble that popped slow. âBut Iâm a rich bitch.â
She lunged, but Venus slid between you with a practiced hand. âLadies, please. Ainât no need to scrap unless thereâs mud or oil involved. Save the claws for the stage.â
You didnât need saving, though. Youâd already risen halfway out of your chair, ready to swing. Fighting wasnât foreign to you. Strippers didnât survive long without knowing how to throw a punch.
But Cherry backed off, hissing like a snake, and stormed out.
You caught yourself in the mirror, lips quirking. Let them hate. The more noise they made, the more you knew you were winning.
Back at the bar, Jax was waiting.
You walked past him, hips swaying, a shot of whiskey in hand. His gaze burned against your skin.
âYou lookinâ at me like you ainât never seen tits before,â you drawled, sliding onto the stool beside him.
Jaxâs laugh was low, rough, the kind that curled in your belly. âIâve seen plenty. But not like you.â
You arched a brow. âSmooth. You use that line on all the girls, President?â
He turned his head, met your stare without flinching. âOnly the ones worth it.â
You clinked your glass against his beer, sipping slow, enjoying the weight of the tension between you. It wasnât just sex he was offering â it was a challenge. A test.
And you loved nothing more than winning.
The night dragged on. Customers stumbled out, pockets empty, egos bruised. The music died down, lights dimmed.
You stepped outside to smoke, leaning against the brick wall, sweat cooling on your chest.
A motorcycle rumbled nearby. Jax.
He lit up beside you, silence stretching thick.
âYou stir shit up in there,â he said finally, nodding back toward Diosa.
You blew smoke toward the stars. âWhat can I say? I like attention.â
He smirked. âYouâre gonna get plenty. Question is, can you handle it?â
You turned, locking eyes with him, heat sparking like a match head. âTry me.â
Almost Something
707 x reader jaehee's route/cafe au, angst, push and pull, slow burn, fem reader + she/her pronouns 707 is distant but we still love him
[2]
After helping Jaehee find her freedom, you find yourself stuck with the one RFA member who refuses to get close. What starts as banter and occasional avoidance spirals but falling for someone who thinks love is a weakness may hurt more than you're ready for
Push And Pull
I love my mama;
I don't like her.
Sometimes along with those feelings,
I carry guilt but then I remember:
she doesn't like me either.
While I keep my feelings contained,
because they are hurtful-
she has told me.
"I don't like the person you became."
It was a warm summer day
and I was smoking pot in her driveway.
I looked at her and nodded.
I no longer give them the reaction they want.
I try not to cave.
Things have been decent with my parents lately.
I've been seeing them more,
as they've been helping me.
Sometimes they'll be mean
towards me or others.
They'll say hurtful or racist things.
I'll correct them delicately.
We don't see eye to eye.
I have morals and they have jesus/trump
(tresus if you would).
I love you mama.
I said in the kitchen.
"I always thought you couldn't stand me."
She replied.
I was unsurprised.
I love you.
I repeated.
"yeah but I loved my mom and didn't like her."
A push and pull.
Damned if I tell her,
damned if I don't.
I love you.
I insisted,
and gave her dog a treat.
Written by AprilFool đ¸
5/7/2026
PUSH & PULL
Pairings: Zoro x Black!F!Reader.
Themes: Messy Love, Emotional vulnerability, Unresolved Tension, Pre-Established Relationship, Angst vibe, Push & Pull Dynamic.
Warnings: none
Word count: 1,310
Fights with Zoro were never easy.
It wasnât that you and Zoro didnât love each other.
You did. Too much. The kind of love that made you loud in the middle of the night and silent in the morning.
But now it was really quiet.
When the Quiet Things Bloom
⢠a Lee Sangwon fanfiction, Boys ii Planet
⢠Genre:
âłSlow-burn, đŤ High School Romance, đ˘ Push-and-Pull, đŽâđ¨Soft Angst, đWarm Fluff, đĽINFP Sangwon
A/N: prompted AI to narrate a story i came up with, and i ended up loving it so much that i had to share it here with my fellow girliepops who are just as obsessed with Sangwon as i am.
Sangwonâs student ID:
Female lead (Y/N) đ¤Ť:
Setting: Seoulâs elite high school, Saebom Academy
âĄâË đŚ˘ăťââ§ââË・â
CHAPTER 1: The Bell Rings Louder When Heâs Near
If there was a list of names that made Saebom Academy hum, yours and Lee Sangwonâs would be near the topâhis written in clean, understated script, yours with a sharp flick at the end.
You knew of him before you ever knew him.
Sangwon, ace of the school dance team, flawless jawline â somehow the calmest storm youâve ever seen walk a hallway. He wore his uniform too neatly for someone surrounded by a chaos â Leoâs sudden bursts of laughter, Junil flexing some taekwondo moves, Anxin and Geonwoo freestyling with a basketball, and Kangmin constantly bickering with Junmin over playlists. Junseo, the ever-composed student council president, trying (and often failing) to keep the group in check. Despite the whirlwind of personalities, together, with all their chaos and charm, they were easily the most popular group in our year.
Sangwon would just walk a little behind them, headphones in, an opened book in one hand. Yet, he still managed to steal attention effortlessly. Maybe it was the way he didnât try.
You? You were no background character either. Popular for your brains and your boldness, you had that kind of confidence people borrowed when their own ran out. You called out teachers and won over their respect, breezed through classes, and walked like the hallways owed you rent.
Naturally, your paths crossed. But nothing about it felt natural.
ââââŕ¨ŕ§ââââ
It started with assigned seats.
He sat one row behind you, diagonally across. And sometimesârarelyâyou felt it: his eyes on your shoulder when you answered a question, a soft breath of laughter when you rolled your eyes at a class announcement, his fingers tapping his pencil against the desk when you bit your pen cap.
You turned once. Just once.
And caught him.
Instead of looking away, he blinked slowly. Then tilted his head and offered the barest smileâone that didnât reach his eyes but still felt sincere.
You didnât smile back.
But you thought about it for days.
ââââŕ¨ŕ§ââââ
A group project gone wrong.
You were paired with Sangwon, much to the delight of the classroom whisperers.
âI heard they donât even talk,â someone muttered behind a textbook.
But you did talk.
On the rooftop during lunch, avoiding the noise of the cafeteria, he asked you quietly, âDo you want to do the PowerPoint or the report?â
âPowerPoint,â you said without looking at him. Then, âUnless you suck at writing.â
His lips twitched. âI donât.â
A pause. Then you both sat in silence, the wind teasing your hair into your face. He didnât move to help, but you had a feeling if you asked, he would.
ââââŕ¨ŕ§ââââ
He started leaving sticky notes on your notebook when you left it behind during lunch.
You replied by scribbling comebacks in the margins of his practice sheets when he left them unattended in the dance studio.
He said ânice presentationâ with no inflection but watched your reaction from the corner of his eye.
You told Leo, loudly, âHeâs not even that cool,â just to see if heâd flinch.
He didnât.
But the next day, he wore his hoodie half-zipped, and you caught yourself looking a second too long.
ââââŕ¨ŕ§ââââ
A rumor spreadâhe was seen talking closely with someone from Class 2-B. You ignored it.
Until you couldnât.
You texted him: We still good for the project meeting?
He replied: Yeah. Are you okay?
You didnât answer.
At the library, he slid a coffee your way and waited. Quiet. Unassuming.
âI donât care who you talk to,â you finally said.
He met your eyes. âYou sure?â
And just like that, your walls bristled.
âIâm not the one playing games,â you said, standing.
His voice, low but firm, followed you: âNeither am I.â
ââââŕ¨ŕ§ââââ
It was snowing đ¨ď¸
You were on cleaning duty, wiping windows near the courtyard when you spotted him. Alone. Sitting on the steps, snow gathering in his hair like dust.
You joined him without asking.
âI like the snow,â he said.
You nodded. âItâs quiet. Like you.â
He turned his head to look at you. âYouâre not.â
You smiled. âThat a complaint?â
He shook his head. âThatâs why I notice you.â
You almost answered. But you didnât.
Instead, you leaned your shoulder against his for a brief second.
He didnât move away.
°ââ.ŕłŕż*:シ°ââ.ŕłŕż*:シ
Chapter 2