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#anyway it's fine i'm fine i'm normal! i'm so normal
heartfullofleeches · 3 days
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[A coworker walks up to Fast Food Reader wearing a hazmat suit over their normal work attire]
Coworker: Hey, Y/n... What's with the suit? Did another container of barbecue sauce get spilled in the kitchen?... By the way, is it normal for barbecue to eat through metal like that?
Fast Food Reader: The goat is in heat.
Coworker: I'm sorry?
Fast Food Reader: You know that huge guy who smells like raw meat never takes off the goat suit? Turns out they are a literal goat demon pretending to be a guy in a mascot suit who also happened to choose me as its mate
Coworker: .... Could you repeat that for me?
Fast Food Reader: Anyway, the goat is in heat and I used up all my vacation days for the rest of my life so I'm wearing this hazmat suit hoping it'll mask my scent from them til my lunch break at the very least
[A loud crash comes from the kitchen as the meat locker door is ripped from its hinges. The mascot stands tall over the bent hunk of metal - beady eyes trained on Reader. Fast Food Reader their coworker aside who falls to the floor as they book it towards the front door]
Fast Food Reader: Don't worry! They're probably too horny to kill you this time! They might be a little upset about you wearing my old apron, though! I'm sure you'll be fine!
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sysig · 2 days
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Blood sugar levels (Patreon)
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lazyneonrabbitt · 1 day
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Breakfast
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Daryl Dixon x reader | SMUT
Locked in a bathroom stall with a hungry vampire was not how you planned to spent your time hiding from a herd. Inspired by a post by @norman-fucking-reedus
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The herd came out of nowhere, giving you no other option but to be yanked into the tiny toilet stall of the abandoned restaurant.
Bless it for at least having a seat cover so you could sit down while you waited.
Daryl was breathing heavy below you, clearly at his limits after the morning's hunt failed too thanks to possibly the same walkers ruining your camping spot for the day.
You also thanked the overgrown greenery that covered most of the milky glass above you, keeping the sun away from you to a point where it would't hurt Daryl.
"Hey, you gotta eat." You patted his cheek and held out your wrist to his mouth. "It'll be fine, I can't go out and hunt for you now."
He went rigid and shoved you off him, against the stall door. It was as far as you could go seeing your situation. "No humans. Ya know wha' happened. Ya saw me."
You huffed and stuffed your hands into your pockets. "So you killed that guy, we all hated him anyways. He was harrasing you." Taking your hands out of your pockets again, you had materialized one of your tiny knives and flipped it open. "I'm not scared. And you love me too much to kill me." With a wide smile you sat back in his lap again. "Come on, you need the energy. I have my food in my bag, I'll be okay."
It was clear he didn't want to, but he knew it was his only choice if he wanted to make it out alive. Neither of you had any idea how long the herd was gonna stick around and while you could survive two days on your rations, Daryl would be unconcious by nightfall if he didn't feed.
"Yer insane, ya know tha, right?" He shook his head but still braced himself for what he was about to do.
You had straddled him in the most comfortable position you could get in and ran your fingers through his hair to calm him, ever so slowly pressing his face closer to your neck. You were pressed up against each other with no change to get away now, and with a last deep breath you felt Daryl's lips against your skin. He kissed a few times before the harsh sting of his fangs made you tense up. A soft gasp and a squeeze of the strands of hair you held onto went on deaf ears as he busied himself feeding off you.
And god, it felt.. good? It stung at first, but the gentle sucking now went straight down to your core.
But it was clear you weren't the only one enjoying it more than you though, feeling Daryl grow hard in his jeans underneath you.
While you kept one hand in his hair to yank if he got too far, you lowered the other one down to his pants and worked on getting him out of them. He must hurt so bad..
You rolled your hips in trial and earned a moan so deep you didn't think he had it in him. He was normally so quiet.
You pulled his head back but kept yourself attached, moving to shove off one sneaker. With your pants undone and off one leg you sat back down on his lap fully bare before going back to working on his pants, freeing him and continueing to rub against him. "Do I taste that good, baby?"
"Mhmmm.." A rut of his hips and a positive moan answered for you, wasting no more time and lining him up with your entrance and letting him push all the way in, a soft rut with each suck on your neck. You tried your best to keep your moans as quiet as possible but it was difficult with how good it all felt.
Once he was all the way inside he finally took his mouth off you with a deep intake of air. "Fuck, yer even crazier than I thought.." The punctures still bled, slowly trickling down the neckline of your shirt before they were being lapped up in rythm with Daryl's thrusts that kept picking up the pace.
You planned to ride him slowly while he fed but he was holding you still and fucking up into you like he was possessed.
With just one hand he kept your hips in place while the other had your body pressed against him, giving him the perfect angle to keep licking and sucking at your neck while he mumbled praises against your skin.
"D.. Daryl please, fuck, my legs.." You weren't made for bathroom stall sex and especially not while being drained by a very blood drunk vampire.
You held no power against him, every tug to move him was futile. You had to power through the feeling of your legs becoming like jello and his body rubbing against your clit with every thrust. His grunts were getting more frantic. Wet, openmouthed kisses trailed all the way around your neck before he sucked hard on the puncture wounds and you felt the blood flow out in a gush.
He didn't swallow, instead seal his lips and move his hand up to pull at the back of your head and shove his mouth against yours. As his tongue forced its way into your mouth a good amount of blood followed, running out the corners of your mouth and making a mess all over yourselves. His kisses were never very coordinated but this was messy, grunts and moans, open mouthed and all teeth and tongue as you both chased your highs. Your fingers tugging his hair and rubbing your clit between your bodies.
Clenching around him, so close to your climax you hastened your touches and gathered yourself to meet his thrusts halfway to intensify the feeling.
You finished with a harsh bite on Daryl's tongue to muffle your sounds and pulled him right over the edge with you.
He let go of your hip then and you slumped against him, groaning in protest as he licked at the bitemarks on your neck. "Daryl, no.. please.." You barely mamaged to raise your hand to push at him, but he ensured you it was needed. "Helps healin'. Jus' relax." You felt his smile against your skin and let yourself breathe.
"So.." You leaned back a bit to look him in the eyes. "Changed your mind about humans?" Your sneaky smile had him let out a breathy laugh.
"Ya know wha? I'll keep ya with me fer emergencies." He licked his lips, cleaning some blood off them as you weakly smacked his arm and giggled.
Damn. You really had to get cleaned up and eat something..
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dinogoofymutated · 1 day
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Hello, I love your writing!! And the Kurt taking care of an overworked lover really melted my heart 🫠💕 could I ask for a similar prompt with Logan? He's my #1 X Men man. If this ptompt is too specific no worries, feel free to make it work within your own parameters- but I live with chronic pain/illness, so maybe it could be someone with a condition that flairing up and they refuse to rest/ask for help, making things worse, and Logan finally steps in, maybe scoops them up in his big arms and lovingly forces them to take a break? Logan has such a big protective heart under all his gruffness, and I think we need to see more of it in the Fandom.
💖 Love and Bless You 💖
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Wolverine/GN!Reader UGH I love this request!! I hope it's okay that i didn't write about a specific illness, but describe a general chronic pain/mobility difficulty due to it. I need to write soft logan like this more often UGH- also, I was picturing the flirty Logan from Wolverine and the X-men here. He's infected my brain and I need more versions of him like that lol. TWS: Chronic pain/illness. flareups.
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If there's one thing anyone knows about Logan, it's that's he's crazy observant, especially with that sniffer of his.
Sure me might not be able to smell when you're in pain, but I 100% thing that he just -knows- when something is off. It's like a sixth sense. Like you move in a particular way or eat your "fuck I hurt" food and he's on you like a goddamn bloodhound.
It doesn't matter how much you protest, or how much you fight him on it, he's not willing to budge when it comes to letting you rest- and if he can sneak in a few extra cuddles, or more time in bed with you, it's just a perk.
    Today has been a rough day since you woke up, and you knew it would most likely get worse. 
    You were having a bit of a flare-up. Well, you say a bit, in all actuality, it was an uphill battle from here. There was just something off the moment you woke up. Your joints were stiff and painful, everyday actions became a chore, and you were hurting much more than normal. But, if there was one thing about you everyone knew, it was that you were certainly stubborn. 
    You’re in the kitchen currently, resting at the table after popping a batch of cookies in the oven. Jubilee had been begging you to make her some sweet treats, and with her coming home from a rather long mission tomorrow, you decided to surprise her. Your body’s timing was… unfortunate, but there was no stopping you now. You were exhausted after making the dough, and rolling it into balls. After you had popped them in the oven you had painstakingly walked to the fridge to put the rest of the dough inside, muscles protesting each and every step. You had collapsed into the nearest chair, leaning your head back with a sigh, which is where you are now. You let your eyes drift closed as you wait for the timer to go off, relaxing into the seat.
    “Hey~” You jump at the sound of the voice, opening your eyes to see a smirking Logan, his arms draped across the back of your chair. You let out a huff, smiling at him. 
    “Hi Logan.” You say sweetly. One of his hands reaches down to run through your hair, and you feel like a cat as you eagerly lean into the touch.
    “How are you feeling?” He asks. You hum, grimacing at the question.
    “Fine?” You respond, an unsure tilt in your voice. Logan raises an eyebrow at you.
    “Don't bullshit me, sweetheart. I know somethings off.” Logan rumbles. You make a face, sitting up from the chair as normally as you can as the timer for the cookies goes off.
    “It's just a minor flare-up. It's fine, I'm fine. I have to finish baking these cookies for tomorrow anyway, so I don't really have a choice.” You say. If he sees the way you stumble a little, he doesn’t comment on it. Logan watches as you take a moment before you open the oven, resting against the counter. You realize that you may have gotten up from the chair just a little too fast as stars spot your eyes. After a minute of rest, hyper-aware of Logan’s eyes on you, you go for it. You barely crack the oven door open before Logan grabs you by the waist.
    “Alright, that's enough.” He says. You yelp as Logan drags you away from the oven. He takes the cookies out quickly before he turns around and immediately throws you over his shoulder. Your yelp is more of a screech this time.
    “Logan! Let me go- what are you doing?!” 
    “I'm not gonna stand back and watch you do this to yourself. I'm taking you to bed.” Logan huffs. He’s already walking you out of the kitchen and into the other parts of the mansion as you hit your palms against his back, trying to convince him to put you down.
    “But- I- the cookies!” You cry out. Logan has already gotten to your door opening it as he carries you inside.
    “I got it. Now just- relax.” He says, plopping you down on the bed. The action has you a little dizzy, and Logan leans in to kiss you on the forehead before he tucks you under the covers. 
    “I'm going to go get you some water and vitamins. Stay. Here.” You don’t have time to protest before he’s gone, having shut the door behind him. You want to get up and chase after him, tell him that you don’t need any special treatment and that you were fine on your own, but you’re not sure you can really run right now- and the comfort and warmth of your bed and covers are calling you like a goddamn siren song. 
    You drift in and out of consciousness in bed until Logan is back, with a glass of water and vitamins as promised. He hands you a flintstone gummy as he sits on the bed, and you can’t help but snicker. Logan rolls his eyes, still having delivered vitamins as promised.
    “What did you do about the cookies?” You ask as Logan peels back the covers to lie in the bed with you. He pulls you close as he settles in, rubbing his hands soothingly across the parts of you he knows tend to ache the most. 
    “I put a new batch in the oven. I’ll smell them when they’re ready.” He says. You roll your eyes at him, resting your head against his chest. 
    “Thank you, you know. Not just for the cookies, but… for caring.” You whisper. He huffs a laugh, leaning down to kiss you on the lips this time.
    “You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. Just rest.”
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copper-16 · 3 days
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Hothead
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Jule gets injured, and Lena tries to deal with her worry on top of the fact that she's still trying to keep it a secret that she's hopelessly in love with her best friend.
Luckily for her? Someone happens to feel the exact same way.
(a/n: Someone asked me MONTHS ago to write this...and well I'm like 6 months late but better late than never I suppose! Also I started writing this when Feli was still at Wolfsburg so she's still at Wolfsburg for the sake of I was too lazy to change what I had already written, take it or leave it.
I love getting to write Obi...so much. Like SO much! So much that I actually didn't edit this at all I just scrolled over it really fast and said MEH it's probably good to post (so sorry if there are mistakes). Also this is cross posted from ao3 because I'm pretty sure the request was sent on here, if I remember correctly. But anywho, enjoy!)
It was a dirty foul. 
It was a really dirty foul, in fact, and pretty much all of the Wolfsburg girls are ready to throw hands when they see what has occurred. 
Jule had been taking the ball up the right side of the pitch after Obi had sent her a lovely little long ball, when the Werder Bremen defender had gone right for her ankle instead of the ball. It was a crunching tackle, a dangerous and thoughtless one from the Werder player, and it sent the blonde winger tumbling to the ground with a cry of pain. 
It was late in the game, they were up by one goal anyways, but as soon as Jule was hitting the ground, all hell broke loose. The Wolfsburg players were immediately going for the Werder defender who dared to hurt their golden girl, none leading the charge more than Lena. 
The brunette was halfway across the field from Jule when she went down, but suddenly Lena was right next to Jule as she pressed her face into the grass, her ankle ringing with pain. 
“Jule? Are you okay, should I get the medic?” Lena asks softly, her face close to Jule’s. The blonde can smell the patchouli and ylang-ylang of her perfume, and the way that Obi tugs her kit down from where it had ridden up before she placed her hand gently on the wingers back. 
Jule hated the medic. She hated going down, didn’t want to hog attention away from the others, stop play, or force a substitution to be made unless it was absolutely necessary. 
But the pain in her ankle isn’t subsiding in the way it should be, and she knows that she won’t be able to walk it off like she normally should. The blonde screwed her eyes shut in frustration as she nodded, moving to turn over on her side and eventually back as Lena began to flag down the team medic. 
Which of course, happened to be the exact same time that the Werder defender decided to open her mouth, her words callous and unkind. 
“Oh Jesus, why is she being such a baby? She’s fine, I hardly touched her,” the defender scoffed, and here’s the thing. 
Lena knew that she had a reputation for how easily she found herself in the middle of a fight. It was a fair one, she knew that. The midfielder was the one most likely in her team to be found arguing with the referee, or to get into some sort of a brawl with another player, or something of the sort. 
But her hot headedness in general paled in comparison to any sort of reaction that she had when it involved her blonde teammate. 
It was a known fact at Wolfsburg that Lena and Jule just had an inexplicably close relationship. Ever since the winger had joined the German side, her and the midfielder had been completely inseparable. 
For the older women in the team, the writing is on the wall, clear as day. But Jule is rather oblivious to the fact that her best friend is hopelessly in love with her. She would never imagine that Lena would actually reciprocate what she told herself was a silly little crush. 
But it wasn’t just that, for either side. 
Jule was gentle, maybe not always on the pitch but she was known for being incredibly sweet. Lena wasn’t exactly known for her saccharine like personality, but her and Jule just always seemed to work together. The midfielder was fiercely protective of the younger girl, whether that be batting away creepy men at clubs or making sure that she had eaten that day. It was the fact that they were complete opposites that seemed to make them work so well together, totally balancing one another out. Jule had this uncanny ability to calm Lena down, no matter what was occurring, whether it be in a game or when they are getting too competitive playing a board game with teammates. And in kind, Lena makes sure that Jule isn’t stepped on or bothered by anyone around her. 
So for someone to say something like, something that is so blatantly rude and careless, all of the Wolfsburg girls were immediately turning to Lena, knowing what was about to happen. 
“Oh you absolute BITCH–” Lena started as she turned toward the woman in a second, and she would have slammed right into her if it wasn’t for Feli, who wrapped her arms around the brunette at the last second and pulled her away. 
“Not helping right now Miss Hothead,” Feli grunted out as she hauled Lena back with everything in her, the midfielder still practically snarling at the woman as she strained against her teammate heavily. 
“Lena?” 
The brunette turns on a dime at the sound of her name being called softly by the winger, and Feli nearly falls over at how quickly the midfielder moves away from her, completely abandoning her course of action in favor of turning toward Jule. It wasn’t very often that Jule used her real name as opposed to calling her Obi like the other girls, but when she did, the brown eyed girl knew to pay attention. 
The blonde didn’t actually need the midfielder, but she knew that Lena was on the cusp of a yellow card, and the last thing she wanted to do was turn this into a card party, especially not when Lena had managed to make it through nearly the whole game without one. 
“Are you alright?” Lena asked as she knelt down next to the winger, the anger wiped from her face in favor of a kinder, softer expression, the kind that was only reserved for Jule, and Jule alone. 
Her eyebrows were knit together lightly, her head tilted to the side in worry as she looked down at her teammate, who shook her head slightly. 
“It's a bad sprain or a possibly fracture,” Jule explained, parroting what the medic had told her as he nodded along. Lena hated the fact that she could tell Jule was trying not to cry, and it made her equal parts sad and murderously mad at the defender for causing the blonde to hurt this much. 
“Help me up?” the blonde asked, breaking Lena out of her train of thought as she nodded. But the German midfielder was more than a little panicked, staring down at Jule who was looking at her with big, misty eyes, and clutching at her ankle. 
The brunette hardly even thought about it, she simply acted. She didn’t think about the setting or the consequence, but rather on what was right in front of her. 
The older girl reached down, hooking her arms around Jule’s back and under her knee, and lifting her into the air with a slightly scary lack of effort. Suddenly the blonde’s face was right in front of her own, and Obi could stare directly into the wingers eyes. 
(Behind them stood Ewa, Alex, and Feli who, alongside thousands of fans, all but had their jaws on the ground) 
But Lena isn’t focused on that, but rather the way Jule is looking at her, her eyebrows pulled together in concern. The wingers face is red, if not from exertion than from this interaction, and the midfielder can see the baby hairs that have loosened from her ponytail and frame her face. 
“Obi?” Jule asked, her voice very soft, only loud enough for the brunette to hear. 
“Yes?” She replied instantly, her heart jumping into her throat. 
Sometimes Lena had these…moments with Jule, where she thought maybe it was possible that the other girl felt just as strongly as she did. 
“I can walk…I–I need to walk off the pitch,” Jule said, louder this time, and Lena startled at her words, despite still holding the blonde safely in her arms. 
The moment popped like a needle, and the brunette flushed an even deeper shade of red at the realization that she was definitely just kidding herself. 
It simply wasn’t possible that Jule felt the same for her as she did.
“Right! Yes, well, here we are,” Lena said quickly very carefully lowering Jule to the ground and waiting for the medic to 
Which left their teammates to watch the whole interaction, Alex, Ewa, and Feli still standing in a line as they looked back and forth between the winger and midfielder. 
“Did she just–” Alex started, her voice incredulous as she was cut off. 
“Yes.” Ewa says, never one to mince words. 
“In the middle of a–” Feli tried this time, faltering when the Polish forward answered yet again. 
“Yep.” The striker said again, and the three women were stuck standing there in amazement at what had just occurred. 
“Hopeless lovesick idiots, the both of them!” Lynn whisper shouted as she walked past the trio from just behind them, her hand cupped over her mouth as though she was trying to be sly, despite the volume of her voice. 
But neither Jule nor Lena heard their scheming teammates, both of them too focused on trying to get the winger off the pitch to be paying attention to their teammates. Obi helped Jule to wrap her arms around the shoulders of the medic as she hobbled off the field, Vivien taking her place on the pitch. 
Lena doesn’t bother looking toward her coach, she knows that she won’t get a sub out, not this late in the game. But her heart isn’t really in it anymore, it’s back in the medical room where she knows that Jule is, probably getting an x-ray or something of the sort. 
Not that it really matters though. Jule’s injury has sucked the energy out of the match as quickly as it had come, and it ends up being a passing game for Wolfsburg for the remaining few minutes of the game. 
Meanwhile, Jule had just gotten situated on a bed in the medical room when Svenja had burst in the doors, her eyes searching for and immediately finding the blonde winger. The older woman hadn’t been playing, had only been sitting on the bench when Jule had gone down, and had instantly gone to get permission to go check on the younger German. 
It wasn’t news to anyone that Svenja was absolutely the team Mom of the group, now even more so because she was an actual Mom. But she always made it her mission to look out for the younger girls, in whatever way she could. 
Like when they got hurt, and she knew that they would likely be stressed and in pain. Jule can’t help the relief that washed over her when the door swung open to reveal Svenja, her eyes watering. 
“Hey kid,” the forward soothed gently as she came to stand next to Jule, who swallowed thickly as she did her best to offer a smile, even if it came out as more of a grimace than anything else. It was Svenja who sat with her for the next twenty minutes as they ran more tests, brought in a portable x-ray machine, determining that it was a small fracture in her ankle. It was minor, she would likely be out for the next four weeks and in a boot, but it meant that she wouldn’t have to have surgery, which of course was good news. 
The doctors had just given her a boot to wear as well as some crutches, slipping out of the room and leaving Jule to get down from the table, when they first heard it. 
At first glance, it sounded like a commotion in the hallways, and Jule thought that maybe it was the girls celebrating the win. 
But it only took a second for her to realize that was in fact not the case. It’s Obi’s voice that she hears, high and shrill. The midfielder sounds beyond stressed and panicked, and Jule feels her eyebrows furrow in concern at the noise. 
“Where is sh–” Obi cuts herself off when she all but busts open the door to the med room, Feli hot on her heels. 
“Jule!” the midfielder exclaims, her eyes widening as she realized that she had found the winger. 
“Jesus, did we have to sprint the whole way?” Feli pants, following Obi into the room with sarcasm dripping from her tone. Svenja forces down a chuckle but Lena doesn’t even bother paying her any mind, her eyes wild with concern. 
“Are you okay? What did the doctor say? Is everything alright? Do you need–” Lena started, only for Svenja to very quickly cut her off, sensing that the German midfielders' panicked energy was not what this room needed right now. 
“Feli, could you help Jule with her boot and crutches while I talk to the lovely Ms. Oberdorf for a second?” Svenja said, a question that wasn’t really a question at all as she drug the brunette out of the room, leaving Feli and Jule both to stare after them, a little bit lost but shrugging all the same. 
Svenja closed the door behind them, turning to Obi with a disapproving glint in her eyes. 
“Okay, you need to get it together lover girl, because you can’t–” Svenja started, but Obi shook her head, pulling back in clear disagreement, her expression weak. 
“Lover girl? I don’t even know what you’re talking abou–” she started, only for Svenja to double it and cut her off again. 
“You can save the denial for someone who actually believes you. We all know you love that girl, it’s about as clear as a sky blue sunny day, but perhaps we aren’t ready to have that exact conversation. So for now, I need you to calm the hell down and rein it in. You’re here to help that poor girl relax, not to stress her out with a game of twenty questions. Understand?” Svenja asked bluntly, knowing that sweet talking her way with Obi wasn’t something that was really all that necessary. 
The midfielder swallowed thickly before she nodded, her cheeks tinged with pink from embarrassment. But Svenja just pays her no mind, turning back toward the med room, where Feli and Jule were having a conversation of their own. 
Obi had to give herself a bit of a pep talk before she went back into the room, and by the time she reenters the med room, Jule is upright with a boot and crutches. 
“Lena, I’m going to take Jule home, would you like to come with us?” Svenja prompted, gesturing as subtly as she could toward Jule. 
It didn’t matter either way, because her sentence was barely done before the midfielder was responding. 
“Yes, absolutely!” Lena chirped out, her voice about two octaves higher than normal. Jule was a little pink in the face from using the crutches, but she still looked up with a quirked brow, entirely unimpressed with how fake her friend's voice sounded. 
She chose not to comment on it further, her foot throbbing painfully inside the boot as she made her way slowly out to the car. The winger is so focused on her journey, in fact, that she hardly notices the way that Lena hovers behind her, just on the off chance that Jule stumbles and needs help. 
She also entirely misses the several eye rolls from both Feli and Svenja as they walked out to the car, both women equally annoyed by their collective cluelessness. 
Not my circus not my monkeys, the defender mouthed to the forward, whose face immediately dropped in indignation. 
“Yes it is!” She exclaimed, shooting a dazzling (and decidedly fake) smile at both Obi and Jule when they turned back around, equally confused by the seemingly random words. 
But Feli waved them off, a thrilled grin on her face at Svenja’s little outburst. The defender helped get Jule into the forward's car before saying goodnight to her teammates and heading back to her own apartment. Lena followed Svenja’s car in her own, figuring it would be good for them to have possible means of transportation if they needed anything. 
It was Svenja who helped Jule instead, getting her set up on the couch and dolling out pain medication before she began to go over the list of what to do with Lena. 
She didn’t bother with asking the brunette if she was staying with Jule, she just…always had been. There was no use in denying the inevitable, really. 
“Okay, and you call me if you need anything, alright? Even if it’s the middle of the night,” Svenja told Jule, who gave her a small smile and a nod. 
“Yes, yes, of course Mom. Thank you for everything today,” the blonde replied softly, and the older woman squeezed her arm affectionately before seeing herself, leaving only the winger and midfielder in Jule’s apartment. 
It was hardly the first time that Lena had been here, quite the opposite really. The two of them were practically inseparable, and spent most of their time together, at one of their two apartments. 
Obi was so used to Jule’s apartment, the younger girl practically considered her a roommate. The second bedroom had a dresser with her clothes in it and a toothbrush for her in the bathroom, so it wasn’t that big of a stretch honestly. 
But for some reason the midfielder can’t seem to sit still today, floating around the apartment doing odds and ends, asking Jule if she needs something every few minutes (seconds, really), and exerting a rather tumultuous energy over the whole place. 
After about fifteen minutes, Jule sighs heavily. And right on key, Lena appears by her side, looking down at her with wide eyes. 
“What! What is it?” She asks breathlessly, having run in from the kitchen. Jule shakes her head, her expression set with exasperation that masks the hurt she’s beginning to feel. 
“Lena, if you do not want to be here you can just go home! I broke my foot, not my entire body, I do not need a babysitter,” Jule huffs out, having mistaken Lena’s nerves for annoyance. 
But she’s surprised by the way that the brunette’s face falls, and she instantly settles down on the couch next to her teammates, shaking her head. 
“No, no, there is nowhere else I want to be, I promise. I just…I don’t…” Lena trails off, struggling to find the words. Her face is screwed with indecision, and it makes the wingers heart leap into her throat. 
“You don’t…what?” Jule prompts lightly, her voice light and barely audible. It sounds rather breathless, and she hates herself for a moment by how much her voice gives her hopes away. She prays Lena won’t pick up on it…or maybe she prays that she will. 
Obi looks over at the blonde, her heart thumping in her chest. Jule is looking at her with an entirely unreadable expression, and for just a moment the brunette wonders if it would even be possible for her friend to feel the same way that she does. 
She couldn’t explain her attraction to Jule, nor could she articulate how strong it was. It felt like the winger was the sun, and the brunette was simply made to orbit around her. 
Everything was better when Jule was there. Her laugh, her smile had this completely contagious property, and it made Obi feel lighter, happier, better. 
She made Lena better, just by being herself. She was warm and kind where the midfielder was callous and gruff. She was soft and forgiving, forcing Lena to relax and give herself some grace. 
It wasn’t something she could explain, because how on earth are you supposed to describe the one person in the world who means everything to you? 
Lena opens her mouth, her feelings on the tip of her tongue. They’ve been sitting there for a now awkwardly long period of time, the silence clinging to them both, hanging in the space between them. Jule is staring back at her, her jaw clenched shut, her teeth clenched with a nervous anxiousness, wondering if this is the moment where everything will change.  
But doubt creeps into the brunette’s mind, and the thought of confessing flees her mind as quickly as it comes. 
“I just don’t know what to do to help you feel better, that's all,” Lena finally says lamely, and it takes everything in Jule for her expression not to drop in disappointment, swallowing the feeling and offering a smile instead. 
“You make me feel better just by being here,” she admitted, and it was the truth, if not the entire truth. 
Was it lying, if it was a lie of omission? 
Jule isn’t sure. She isn’t sure what she’d rather be: filled with regret because she never said anything, or filled with regret because she had. 
“But if you’re just going to sit here with two working feet I wouldn’t say no to a sandwich,” the blonde tacked on at the end, the breath stolen from her lungs at the way Lena’s face lit up, a laugh tumbling from her mouth. 
“You got it, coming right up!” She announced as she hopped up from the couch, leaving Jule to her thoughts. 
Just as she often did, the German winger spent the next few minutes mulling over the pros and cons list that had only grown as time dragged on. 
To tell her best friend that she was in love with her, and risk all of the fall out if she didn’t feel the same? Or never tell her, and simply live with what could have been, if she was a little less scared? 
It seemed like an easy choice when she framed it like that, but the actual implications of her actions somehow seemed so much larger. 
She’s so lost in thought, that she hardly notices Lena coming back with food for them both, until the midfielder is placing her hand gently on Jule’s thigh. The touch causes the blonde to jump, and Lena retracts her hand just as quickly, as though she’s been burned. 
“Sorry, sorry,” the midfielder is quick to say, but Jule shakes her head emphatically. 
“No apologies, please. I was just lost in thought…about my foot! About my foot, I was thinking about my foot!” Jule explained, seeming a little too happy to be thinking about her foot when the person on the receiving end of her words doesn’t realize its a coverup. 
But really, what was she supposed to do? It wasn’t like she could just tell Lena how she felt, right here and right now. 
“Thank you for the food,” the blonde rushes to say instead, and the two fall into gentle chatter as they eat their food. Jule is honestly glad for the distraction, would rather do anything other than talk about her injury right now. 
She’s lucky it wasn’t worse, that it wasn’t badly broken, or required surgery, but it still sucked to be injured regardless. 
The winger knew that she was lucky to have Lena to sit here and make her laugh, to drop whatever she had been doing to be here. So amidst her confusion over whether to admit her feelings, still her gratitude toward the midfielder balloons in size. 
When Jule leaned forward to put her plate on the coffee table, Lena is looking at her closely. 
“What else do you need? What can I get you?” The older girl asks, and Jule shakes her head slightly, a soft smile on her face. 
“I’m fine Obi, I don’t need anything else. I honestly just kind of want to go to bed,” Jule admitted, and Lena nodded, before looking down with a furrowed brow at the blonde’s boot. 
“What?” Jule asks with a tiny chuckle, loving the fact that she could see Lena’s brain work in real time, as if she was working out a very complex math problem and not staring at her teammates foot. 
“That thing has to hurt to walk on, doesn’t it?” Obi asked, and Jule shrugged before admitting that while it was a bit painful, it was manageable. 
But that seemed to do nothing but displease the midfielder further, and before Jule could hardly say a thing in response, Lena was reaching forward, and just as she had on the football pitch, picking the blonde up. 
Only, in this instance it was a tad more appropriate than it had been earlier in the day. 
“Oh! Lena, what are you doing?” Jule asked with a laugh, still amazed that the brunette could pick her up with such ease, with so little effort. 
The midfielder rolled her eyes, carefully navigating them around the couch and toward the stairs. 
“Clearly I’m using the fact that I have two working legs to flex on you! Now, what do we say?” Lena teased, throwing on an overly saccharine and fake tone that is clearly meant to get Jule to laugh. Not that she cares, because it works easily. She tips her head back slightly, content when her teammates catches the change of weight easily. 
When she leans back in she’s still giggling, but when she opens her eyes she finds that her face is a lot closer to Lena’s than she had anticipated. The younger girl swallows roughly, blinking several times to try to rid her expression of surprise. 
Lena’s brown eyes are staring at her pensively, softly. The sense of gentleness that her gaze held was one that had always just been reserved for Jule, and here it was, just for her. 
As brash and argumentative as Obi could be, there was no one in the world who could cause her to soften quite like Jule Brand. 
The older girl clears her throat after a second, focusing on continuing up the stairs and into the bedroom. 
The next few minutes are filled with getting themselves situated and ready for bed, teeth brushes and sink showers attempted because the thought of having to stand on one leg to shower sounded like hell on earth. 
But there was Lena, always there to hold her up and make her smile, even when she was just doing mundane tasks like brushing her teeth. 
They switch her boot out for an ankle brace, to give her some support without being too restrictive. Lena shoves a pillow down at the end of the bed gracelessly, before gently propping up Jule’s foot with great care. The two acts are entirely juxtaposing of one another, and they make the blonde giggle as she settles into her bed, the flush that coats Obi’s cheeks as a result not lost on her. 
“Will you stay with me?” Jule looked up at Lena, her face filled with uncharacteristic worry. It was hardly a question she needed to ask, and the answer from her teammate is both immediate and automatic. 
“Of course,” she replied, moving to turn the light off and climb into bed next to her best friend. 
But it’s only after the lights are turned off, and the comfort of darkness has descended on them both, that they are able to finally admit what’s been on the tip of their tongues for weeks now. 
The fact that’s probably both surprising to the two of them is that it’s Jule, and not Lena, who says something first, her boldness coming out of nowhere even if it didn’t last for more than a single word. 
Lena was laying on her back, staring up at the ceiling from her spot on the left side of the bed. Jule laid on the right side, turned on her left side so that she was facing her teammate, which was how she usually slept when there wasn’t anyone in her bed anyways. 
The winger can just barely make out the brunette’s profile, the bridge of her nose and the sharp edges of her jaw, her chest rising and falling shallowly, heartbeat quickened by whom she was in proximity of. 
“Lena?” Jule asked, her voice quiet. It was rare for her to say the midfielders actual name, and Lena’s heart skips a beat at the question. 
“Yes Jule?” She responds, her voice equally soft. 
“I–” Jule opens her mouth to say more, and finds that she isn’t sure what to say. 
It’s an uncomfortable reality, to realize that you care so greatly for another person in life that you find yourself unable to fully elucidate your feelings. 
But before she can even try again, Obi is cutting her thought process off softly. 
“Can I be honest with you about something?” The brunette asks, struggling to keep her throat open enough to explain how she’s feeling. 
“Yes,” the blonde replies instantly, her words filled with relief and hope, and it’s her tone and that alone that spurs Lena on, that allows her to say what she’s been feeling for months. 
“When we were downstairs and we were talking before and I paused I…I wasn’t brave enough to say it but I can now,” she began, taking a very slow breath before continuing. “I think I love you, Jule.” 
“You think?” The winger asked, her voice small but neutral in its tone. Lena swallows roughly at the sound, wondering if she’s made a big mistake.
But it’s too late now to think about that, so instead she forges ahead. 
“No, not I think. I know I love you, and I have for months now. Maybe ever since I met you,” Lena admits, finally turning her head to look at Jule. The blonde is sitting in bed on her side, facing the older girl. 
When the brunette turned toward her, the winger reached out with her hand, running her fingers gently over the midfielders cheek until she was cradling her jaw. 
“I love you too,” Jule whispered into the space next to them, and she can feel rather than see the tear that slips down Lena’s cheek, the wetness seeping into her palm. The midfielder turns her head, pressing an impossibly soft kiss to the inside of Jule’s wrist. 
The brunette moves with such gentleness and care, it physically feels as though the blonde’s heart will burst from how in love with Lena Oberdorf she is. 
Obi moves lightly, but with purpose nonetheless, as she gathers Jules into her arms and finally, their two bodies are pressed together softly. 
The winger tucks her body into Lena’s, not caring that her foot protests at the movement as she’s engulfed in Lena’s scent and the warmth of her body. Jule tucks her head into the midfielders neck, clutching to the brunette as Lena’s hands bring her close, keeping her safe. 
The sigh of relief that they both let out happens at the same time, as the comfort of finally being pressed together is realized. Jule cuddles into Lena, feeling sleep pull at her, the worry of her feelings not being returned now swept away like a leaf in a strong current. 
“I love you,” Jule murmured into Lena’s neck, the soft puff of air tickling the brunette’s skin in the best possible way. She smiled softly, tightening her grip imperceptibly. 
“I love you more,” Lena promises, pressing a kiss to Jule’s temple as they melt into one another, sleep coming to claim them both in the darkness of the blonde’s bedroom. 
There is still so much to talk about and discuss properly, sure, but for the night nothing else matters, except the fact that neither of them can really tell where the one ends, and the other one begins.
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beloved-nyx · 22 hours
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 “𝐁” 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 !
ᝰ.ᐟ Why does it feel like someone’s following your every move?
જ⁀➴ STARRING: 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 (𝐂𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍) 𝐱 𝐆𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
જ⁀➴ CONTENT: stalking, suggestive, reader is in college, reader is insecure, nothing to bad ??, not proofread (we die like kings), soft yandere (?), nothing graphic, mentions of jealousy and clinginess
જ⁀➴ FORMAT: 1.3k words, full fic
જ⁀➴ AUTHORS NOTE: This is my third time writing yandere ahhh! Anyway, it's been so long since I wrote something!! Um enjoy <33 also damn...reader really going through it.
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“There,” You mutter under your breath. “Finished.”
You balance precariously on a wobbly stool, hands parting from a sleek, black camera. A security camera, to be precise. 
You would have never thought of putting a camera in your apartment, not because you were naively dumb, but because you had thought you lived in the safer part of the city. Friendly neighbors always alerted you when suspicious people even lingered next to your doorstep, but also because you were broke. Broke, broke, broke. 
Your rent was taking up more of your money than your groceries were. It had taken weeks of splurging on food to even be able to afford a security camera, much to your disdain. You were living on leftovers, and you were getting sick of week-old Chinese takeout. 
Stepping off the stool, you admire your handiwork, cringing at how gaudy it looked in your minimalistic (or in much harsher words, bare) apartment room. 
Your phone dings softly, and as you pick it up, you grin at the name displayed on your notifications. Caelan. 
Caelan is your crush. Your cheeks seem to grow hotter at even admitting it in your thoughts. You felt like some highschool kid, even using the word “crush.” But Caelan did that to you, you guess. Make you feel childish and absolutely hopeless, and sometimes you wish he knew that. But then again, if he did, you would probably self-destruct on the spot. You were fine with admiring Caelan from afar. 
Heard what happened U ok?
Ahh. That. 
The very reason you put that gaudy camera in your apartment in your first place. 
It had been a month ago, when you first saw the signs of someone breaking into your house. You were doing laundry, a perfectly normal thing to do on a Friday night while your friends were getting drunk and partying at a local club. Some of your underwear was missing, but you had chalked it up to your own clumsiness.
But then you saw the note, and everything changed. Written sloppily, penmanship atrocious. You had thought that the person was just bad at writing-but in hindsight, he must have used his less dominant hand to write it. Biting your cheek, you read it, and you wished you hadn’t. 
It was the most perverse, disgusting thing you had ever read. That night, you couldn’t even sleep, scared that the unknown intruder-stalker would come.
The next day, the stalker sent you pictures of you doing the most mundane things. Sleeping, eating, studying, doing laundry, and even changing.
You immediately called the police on the next day, when a bouquet of roses showed up on your doorstep. The police had said, “We’ll look into it.” 
They never did. 
It led you to ask for help from a friend, and you instantly regretted it. Because the next day, the whole campus learned of your supposed stalker. And even though their sympathetic, “You okay?” made you feel a little bit more safer, a little more secure in your tiny world, it still made you embarrassed, scared too. 
You type in a quick, I'm fine! And then wonder if you should put an emoji after that. After spending an embarrassingly long minute of deciding if you should, you just send it with no emoji. 
That’s good.  If you need anything just call me.
A few days pass by, and still no stalker appears on the camera footage. At first, you’re elated. But then another few days pass, and you feel silly. Maybe there was no stalker, maybe you were being overdramatic-but even then, those pictures? The note? You shiver. You hear a knock on the door, and turn to the noise, a small hum escaping your lips.
Must be the delivery man. You had ordered some new textbooks for college. You walk towards the door, and twist the knob. 
Caelan smiles, pale fingers holding a bouquet of roses. He wears a black turtleneck, gray pants and a black dress coat. You, on the other hand, were wearing your pajamas. 
If you could melt in a puddle, you would have. You wished you were buried in a pit. You wanted to be flung into space. Your cheeks were burning hot. You must look like a mess. Is it too late to be flung into space? 
“C-Caelan. What brings you…uh, here?” You cringe at your words. 
“For you, of course.” He laughs, taking a rose from the bouquet and putting it behind your ear. “I just wanted to check up on you. I hope I wasn’t intruding on anything, like your beauty sleep,” He muses, eyes wandering towards your pajamas. 
You never wanted to turn into a puddle so badly. 
“Hah-no, I just woke up!” You lie, ignoring the way he cocks his head to the side skeptically. Ignoring the fact that it's three p.m. 
“You should’ve called…I would’ve,” You gesture towards your clothes, “y’know, prepared.” 
“Oh shit!” His eyebrows furrow, a hand yanking at a loose black strand of hair that escaped his braid. “I’m sorry, I was just so worried–”
“No, no it’s fine!” You hate the way you sound-so, so desperate. “Um, do you want to come inside? I’ll go change and then we can talk.” 
You lead him inside, ignoring the fact of how oddly happy he is to be inside your home. 
After Caelan and you became official, he started to change. Slowly, like how a caterpillar becomes a butterfly. 
He became more clingy, and at first you thought it cute. You loved the way he doted on you, liked how he curled up into you in the mornings when he stayed at your home (more often than not) and begged you to stay in bed for just a few minutes. 
But he also became more jealous. Whenever you were next to someone, he always hovered close by, a suffocating presence that almost drowned you. Always insisted on going wherever you went. 
You sit on the couch, nestled closely next to Caelan. He hums softly, hands nestled under your shirt as you watch some shitty rom-com. A masterpiece. You called it. Caelan had raised a brow at that, but didn’t say anything except for a snort. You had elbowed him in the stomach after he jokingly (?) insulted one of your favorite moments. 
“‘m gonna get some water,” he mumbles, hands retracting from your body and making you feel cold. You whine at the sudden coldness, complaining about how you might die of hypothermia if he doesn’t come back soon. He scoffs at that, planting a kiss on your temple as he walks into the kitchen. 
And leaves his phone. 
You pick it up, grinning. Your intent was clear. Take a silly photo of yourself and make it his wallpaper. A perfect, opportune moment. 
You open the camera app, successfully taking a horridly candid shot of yourself, before curiosity takes a hold of you. You open the photo app, scrolling through his photos. Most of it was just pictures of landscapes, before you stop. 
A picture of you sleeping, drool leaking from your mouth. 
You stop, before groaning. Did you really look like that when you slept? You scrolled some more, before stopping again. Blood running cold. 
Was that a picture of you changing?
You frantically scroll through more photos, and with horror realize that most resemble the photos that your stalker took. You would never forget how disgusting you felt, at how you felt like your privacy had been breached. 
You choke down a scream, eyes wide and hands shaking. 
And then you feel something-a hand, on your shoulder. Tight enough to bruise, and tight enough to secure you in place. 
“Oh.” A single word escapes Caelan’s lips, and you turn. You can see your own, frantic expression in his black eyes. Black eyes that you thought were beautiful. 
“So you saw them, hmm.” It wasn’t stated as a question. No, it was a statement. A fact, indisputable. The most horrible part was that he wasn’t even trying to deny them. 
“Well, isn’t this cute?”
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©beloved-nyx. do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.
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Highly unpopular opinion: I am selectively pro-makeup. (I know: blasphemous.) But I think there are ways to use it with healthy intentions, versus using it as a crutch.
I believe very strongly in artistic self-expression and have always had an eccentric style, and in high school I was a goth who made all my own jewelry and accessories, always changing my hair color to something fun and bright, and was drenched in glitter like a fairy character in an 80's fantasy film. Most of that still applies to me now, in fact. I think that if you feel you NEED makeup to look presentable or to be acceptable, you're using it for the wrong reasons. If you're using it as a fashion statement, because you WANT to and not because you need to, then you're using it for the right reasons. To me, it's as simple as that. The goths I know, including this one below (who I don't know personally but who I idolized for her wicked style), use it in what I consider a positive way:
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All I see here is joyful self-expression, someone overflowing with creative ideas and who is free and courageous enough to run with it.
Compare that to the "normal" use of makeup here:
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The way the whole face is contoured to look as if they have a different bone structure. The dead eyes. The overall listless vibe. The way its all more or less the same style on each face. This seems neither joyful nor creative to me. This seems like a way makeup is used when a person doesn't like the way the look and wants to wear a mask.
(I have no idea who these women are and I'm not criticizing them as people, just commenting on the impression I get from this particular makeup style.)
Anyway, I still accept that there are tons of valid reasons not to wear makeup, that to many women there's absolutely no difference between the usage of makeup here, and I know that this is not a radical feminist position. That's fine. I just refer to myself as "radfem-leaning" these days because I DO still like makeup, pink, and other feminine aesthetics that radfems would probably disdain.
I saw a post a while back asking if a woman could like makeup and still be considered a radfem, and I guess what I want to say is that you should decide for yourself if what you like is coming from a healthy place, and go ahead with it if it is, without worrying so much about labels. You like pink? Wear it. You like dresses? Wear them. Being makeupless, with our natural hair color and in a gender-neutral style, doesn't fit or appeal to everyone and that's okay. Life is short: please don't stamp out all the things that bring you joy for the sake of a label. You can be "you" and still support women in a million ways. I do.
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wibta if i told someone to work on their attitude? 🍎👏
i'll keep this as short as i can and preface it with everyone in the mentioned discord server is 18-25 years old and we're mostly kind of terminally online lol . also warning for a brief mention of internalized ableism
anyway. i'm part of a discord server and for the most part we're all very good friends or at least we get along well enough to coexist. a few months ago, someone new joined and at first we got along fine, but we had a disagreement and its made me (and others) realize there are some uncomfortable behaviors from this person
if topic they enjoy comes up and someone gets a little bit of information wrong, they spiral and "yell" about it. they're very harsh in a "this is basic information, i'm right about this, how do you not know this" way. not everyone is as invested in that interest, so basic info to them isn't basic info to us, we've tried to tell them this. instead of explaining calmly, we get a "uuuhmmmmmm actually" kind of message before freaking out on us
they always seem to be playing devil's advocate, too. they've had contradictory opinions on things because they always take the opposite side of the person leading the discussion. in the span of a weak they complained about ppl having internalized ableism & prejudices toward autistic ppl, then said "lol i hate being autistic i wish i was normal"
when they ask for personal advice, they act like the advice given is unprompted. they don't seem to want to be helped at all? they're also a serial avoider when they have disagreements with others, they'll text everyone except the person they take issue with and when asked to talk directly to someone by one of the moderators, they just refuse
several times they've been very insensitive to other people's mental health, cultures, interests, etc., while being hypersensitive abt their own and i'm considering asking them to step back to work through their issues
i get that no one is perfect, but people are actively avoiding them and i don't want to see them isolated/hurt when they could just reflect on their behaviour and take steps to be less hostile and miserable toward their so-called friends. i also don't want to see the server die out either bc otherwise we have a good gang yk :/
anyway wibta and what would y'all do
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runabout-river · 2 days
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Thoughts on JJK chapter 259 (Spoilers)
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We start with a flashback to the blood junkies teaching Yuji how to use BM. As was already said in a previous flashback, Choso can't teach for shit but that's why Kamo is here. Yuji's one way of relating to the foundation of BM is a little infantile but when it works it works.
This 1-page flashback is there for only one thing: preparing us for Choso's upcoming death through sacrifice.
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Sukuna collects BV like I did Yugioh cards. First a cooking pun, then a limit on furnace outside of his DE, then the inside of his DE was littered with explosive CE ambers, then a change of his barrier to keep his CT output high.
Uraume (not Sukuna! not the narrator!) declares this their victory while she hasn't even managed to defeat Hakari. The narrator does say though that this is Sukuna's ultimate move. Looking at its scale and immense destructive power, it's appropriate.
I made a post about other techniques that Sukuna probably has in his sleeve: CTR, the Maximum and the Hollow Technique. It could be that Sukuna's MT and HT could rival his Fire in destructiveness without contradicting the narrator: Sukuna is a villain who also grows while fighting just like the typical shonen protagonist. Sth like HT he might've just learned from Gojo making Yuji's continued fight against him hell.
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The moment Yuji was in an enclosed and dark space with Choso above him I knew Choso was a goner. It's sad 😢 but we go back to that picnic table and those two have one last conversation with each other. They're at peace with the situation...
Important to note: Yuji normally infuses dream sequences into others unlike Sukuna who has a post-death talk with them. This is a post-death talk that Yuji now has with Choso, so I'm curious how that will get explained in the future. Is that part of the resonance that gets mentioned later?
Also important: with how everything with Choso and the picnic table is set up, I find it likely that Yuji will be here again right before dying (or when he dies). Other dead characters might greet him here.
The narrator tells us that after the dusts settles, Yuji's convictions get shaken. We get an appropriate 80% page close up of Sukuna from below, portraying him as the monstrous giant that he is.
What I don't really like here is that Yuji's feelings of despair don't get to sink in. Todo appears 1 panel after Yuji looks relatively all right. Maybe Gege didn't want to repeat Kugisaki's death aftermath as it wouldn't add much but a bit more emotions would've been better.
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Anyway, Todo is here right when he was needed the most. A flashback tells us what the rational behind his late entrance and absence from Yuji's presence had been. Makes sense and now the Sukuna-Yuji(-Megumi?) resonance will be an important plot point later.
Does that resonance go both ways? Three ways? Was that how Yuji had entered the inner domain where Megumi is imprisoned right now?
Also, who else is going to show up now? This feels like the perfect setup for Nobara to make her comeback. The same points for keeping Todo's presence and assistance hidden apply to her and this scene directly calls back her death scene as well.
The "most likely fine" is also funny but it also sets up that Ino, Maki and Miwa(?) might've gotten injuries that cross them out of the fight. I think that only Maki will return.
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Now the original Brothers™ are back to fighting together again (would've loved Choso and Todo to argue about that though). Sukuna of course knows everything about their fighting style and he looks like a menace again. (Maybe next chapter will open with another flashback of Choso and Todo fighting over Yuji)
Sukuna's arms are open and he smiles without any worries. While Uraume might be shocked that this isn't their victory and that Sukuna's most devastating attack only killed one person, Sukuna himself is all sunshine and rainbows.
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mytragedyperson · 2 days
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Dabihawks X super psycho love headcanons
Okay, I was in a music mood and now this song came on and it gave me DabiHawks ideas so, let's go with it.
Song is super psycho love by Simon Curtis.
Hawks actually becomes a villain AU? I think so. Why not?
So, it starts how it did in canon, Hawks is originally trying to join the League to spy on them for the Hero Safety commission.
He meets Dabi and is attracted to him but is also like but he's a villain and nothing's gonna happen
He is wrong
First encounters are the usual mix of threats and sexual tension that i've seen in the few DabiHawks fics I've read. Very much I'm attracted to you but I don't like you as a person, you know.
Hawks manages to join the League
This is when things start to change
Dabi is still suspicious of Hawks but is also horny and attracted to Hawks so he starts flirting with him, but only when it's just the two of them. When they're around the League he teeters between dismissive and insulting. He's either ignoring him or arguing with him.
Hawks is naturally confused but decides two can play at that game and starts returning the same energy
Naturally this results in them sleeping together
What does that mean it's friends, or in this case enemies, with benefits time, with a dash of secret relationship because Dabi does not want the League to know he's fucking Hawks.
Hawks is fine with keeping things a secret too because he doesn't want it to get back to the Hero Safety commission, because this is so not the mission. He was told to infiltrate the League. At no point was he told to sleep with one of the members. In fact, it was strongly discouraged
Meanwhile around the others, they still act like they hate each other. It's only partially an act. They still don't really like or trust each other but the sex is amazing and they just keep accidentally turning each other on, or maybe not so accidentally, and then dragging each other around to fuck.
This is a League of Villains are like family thing as well so at the same time, Hawks is slowly bonding with the League and starts having doubts about his mission.
Also some of the League kinda know or have a feeling something is going on between Dabi and Hawks but choose not to comment because they feel it's safer to just not know.
Anyway this continues for a while and slowly, it goes from enemies with benefits to friends with benefits. They start talking and very slowly, very cautiously start opening up and showing their softer sides.
This is a slowburn because trust is a very big problem.
And then Hawks starts developing feelings for Dabi
Dabi may or may not return these feelings yet, but if he does feel the same, he doesn't tell him.
And they're still pretending to hate each otehr around the League so Hawks feels even more confused and it slowly starts driving him insane.
Every day he cares a little less about his mission and his hero career, starts cring about the League members because he sees them just being normal (or as normal as they can be) people, falls in love with Dabi, starts blowing off hero stuff to hang out with the League, using the mission as an excuse.
Hawks finds out who Dabi is and what happened to him and how Endeavour treated him.
And he loses faith because, if that's their number one, and he's a child abuser and it was covered up
So Hawks returns honesty with honesty and admits his mission and how he doesn't want to go through with it anymore.
They both tell the League everything as well and, while there may be some distrust and negative reactions initially, they end up making up.
Dabi and Hawks get together.
The League exposes Endeavour and the Hero Public Safety Commission.
Todoroki Shouto surprises everyone when he backs up Dabi's story and shares his own experiences with Endeavour
turns out he knew Dabi was his brother all along
Maybe Shouto is the UA traitor in this one or maybe he just loves his brother, and hasn't forgiven his dad.
either way after this changes to the society are rapidly made, any corrupt heroes are rooted out.
The League of Villains do still recieve consequences for their crimes but they also get the help they need in terms of mental health.
And they kill All For One for using and manipulating Shigaraki
Okay I'm about done. If you liked this, my asks are open. Send a song and any character or ship from BNHA or one of the other fandomes in my pinned post and I'll do the same for them. I say ships meaning general relationships, not necessarily romantic ships
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another-lost-mc · 2 days
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Any thoughts on the excerpt from Michael’s diary on Nightbringer’s Chapter A gacha page?
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Okay. 😂 Normally I would've saved this for tomorrow, but I was working on a Michael smut fic in another tab and since I have no self control, here I am.
Anyway, I don't think I've talked about this before. I was so fixated on that little snippet when NB first came out, and I’m still trying to decide what interpretation of it I like most.
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Please note that I write Michael a particular way and have a lot of personal headcanons that shape the Michael/Celestial Realm lore we don't have knowledge of, so that is going to skew my interpretation a bit. (If you're asking me about Michael, I'm guessing you're already fine with that.)
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I'm being half-serious here, but without any sort of tone indicator, the way this is worded seems rather...ominous? It doesn't sound positive, not if we look at the language and the imagery it evokes.
You may have changed
This sounds like something you'd say to someone who's trying to argue, "You don't know me!" and you're like, "Um, yes I do."
a great river still flows and swells within you
Part of my personal headcanons for angels is that they have a natural affinity for elements that make up the Celestial Realm and human world. This lets them connect to those worlds on a physical and spiritual level. For me personally, I always associated Michael with water - the way his behaviour and personality seems to shift the way tides rise and crash along the shore, the way sunlight glistens on the surface but fails to touch the darkest depths that hide whatever secrets he keeps buried there. It's interesting that he would sense that type of primal elemental chaos within someone else, the same moral tug-of-war that wages inside himself.
biding its time to swallow us both
There's nothing friendly or inviting about the language used here. "Biding its time?" Okay, so basically Michael and whoever he's referring to are fucked whenever the perfect storm of circumstances lines up and shit hits the fan. "Swallow us both" is an awfully graphic way of saying, "We're in this together." Is something eating away at you, Michael, and do you think that feeling dwells inside whoever it is you're writing about? This doesn't sound hopeful to me. This sound like reluctant acceptance that they're both doomed to succeed - or fail - together, whether they like it or not.
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With that out of the way, I have a few different ideas - each worse and more non-sensical than the last - of who I think Michael was thinking of when he wrote this.
Lucifer
He's probably the most obvious candidate out of all the ones I've considered. It seems on brand (to me, anyway) that Michael would be waxing poetic in his journal like an emo edgelord after he and Lucifer broke up and parted ways at the end of the war. Michael's just waiting for his chance to see Lucifer again and be like, "HA! See, we're not so different, you and I!" and cue the dramatic reunion montage.
MC
Nightbringer's whole premise - as nonsensical as it is - is that some mysterious person or entity has sent MC to the past because reasons. There's a lot of suspicion around Michael knowing Nightbringer, or possibly being Nightbringer himself. Even though he and MC never formally met in OG prior to Nightbringer - aside from some weird dream-like conversations - you could argue that Michael knows a lot about MC from what he's deduced from their own brief interactions as well as the thing he's seen/heard from the other angels who've met them in his place.
I have this vague memory of reading something about Michael having the ability to travel through timelines like some of the other powerful characters do. We also know that Michael and MC both love Lucifer and his brothers and would do anything to be with them. If Michael knew what Nightbringer was up to and why MC was sent back at all, then perhaps there's other things he knows that have yet to happen that will continue to challenge MC's resolve. If Michael is not a villain in this case but a spectator to the whims of another force using MC for their own gain, then perhaps Michael worries about what the future holds for them both.
Himself
This interpretation is basically Michael talking to his post-war broken self, where he's struggling with the reality of what's happened, the bitterness of what he's lost, and the bleak future he has now that his home has lost some of its brightest angels. He might've been the one who cast them out, in a moment of anger or desperation it's hard to say, but something strange happened at the end of the war that saw Lucifer and his siblings spared and their sister condemned to die. (Some of this is pulled from @/luckykittysshowerthoughts essay about the fall, it's much better written than anything I could say on the subject.) So maybe Michael feels that the war has changed him, or losing Lucifer has changed him, or defying Father has changed him - and he's waiting for the consequence of his actions to reveal itself.
Father
I'm about to turn into a pumpkin (aka it's almost midnight) and I'm not sure I can articulate my interpretation of the very strange relationship and power structure of the Celestial Realm, or how the angels abide by Father's teachings and carry out his will despite him being some omnipresent entity. I like the idea of the Seraphim slowly growing more defiant of Father's wishes and commands over time when they realize how unforgiving and unkind he is, especially when angels (to me) are flawed as much as any human and demon. Unfortunately, Father expects them not to be. The war could've been a turning point in Father's relationship with the Seraphim, or with Michael specifically, and perhaps Michael suspects there will be even more of an upheaval - or a reckoning - in store for both of them (or the Celestial Realm as a whole) for the things they've done.
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HERE'S THE OUTLINE ABOUT THIS BRAINWORM
i haven't rly thought of a name for my OC so i'm just gonna use the placeholder name jean for now [after Jean Vic. don't @ me on this]. he might not even end up french tho we'll see…… anyway he was a sailor (don't ask me for further details, it's blurry. it's Real blurry) and he just got back from a voyage but he was discharged from the navy.
what happened during the voyage was he got into a relationship with a higher ranking officer and they were close but was pursuing their relationship knowing that when they get to land they won't be able to continue it (not if the officer wanted to stay in his social circles) buuut it was kind of an open secret on the ship. then there was an Accident, in which the higher ranking officer died (yes i'm going down the dead lover cliche pathway--shhh it's for the plot later). so when the higher ups were looking into the death, they found out about their relationship, which is why the discharge from the navy [[listen. i think at this point france has decriminalized homosexuality but i have no clue what it's like in the navy. so i'm assuming it's the don't ask don't tell thing. so don't @ me on this. or do, i would Love to know if anyone knows]]
so heartbroken and out of a job jean found a job vacancy of being a stagehand at the opera house. his job would be way down below the stage or way up above stage, and the job requirements reminds him of finding his way on a ship, so he's doing just fine with this. he does his job well enough, keeps his head down, tries to be friendly when he can.
after a while of doing bits and pieces here and there and he's established himself, the new chief stagehand gives him the main job of maintaining the area on the mezzanine floor where joseph buquet was killed (i'm smooshing leroux canon and alw canon together here btw. canon is toy blocks for me to pick and choose) since a lot of stagehands avoid that place like a plague. it's not out of malice, it's just that they all realize that jean doesn't rly believe in superstitions or ghosts so they're all like why not? he's knows about the stories but since he doesn't believe in ghosts (and thinks that anything about phantom as an actual dude is an exaggeration of events to attract patrons) he's like eh, alright.
all this happens while jean suspects that he's definitely traumatized by the events that happened during his voyage, obviously. he knows of stories of what happens to people who's traumatized enough. at this point in time he's given in to talking out loud to his dead lover when he's alone, so this is how one day erik heard him through that trapdoor into his home (/torture chamber). when erik tries to scare him off by speaking to him in a disembodied voice, jean Naturally thought that his trauma has given him auditory hallucinations. he at first breaks down about this because he thought he was doing better mentally, but this is a sure sign he isn't doing that great actually.
erik, absolutely confused about this reaction, decides to show himself physically after some time, just to prove to jean that he's not Actually having auditory hallucinations. but jean first mistook him for a lost patron, and is like sir u can't be here without supervision?? and jean's worried he'd lose his job if someone catches a patron wandering down here with only jean watching him bc he sure as hell ain't qualified to give patrons a tour below stage. but erik would mysteriously disappear any time anyone comes close to them. cue a whole bunch of meetings like this bc erik's lonely and this man new to the opera thinks he's a patron and treats him like a normal man and he's been starved of company ever since christine left and the mob hunted him done and he stopped bothering the opera
so they get closer. jean's half worried that erik's a hallucination, since he disappears a lot and is never seen by anybody else but jean, but he seems so real……
they get to a point where erik tells jean of christine and they bond over having lost someone they loved. erik speaks longingly of his dreams of being married and having a wife to go on sunday walks with
at this time jean is a little (a Lot) in love with him and gets his heart shattered into pieces bc god damn it he wants a wife Of Course he'd want a Wife...........
and then somehow erik finds out that jean is in love with Someone and he asks about it (somehow feeling something like Rage and Something Else because jean? in love? WHO WOULD CAPTURE THIS MAN'S ATTENTION? WHO DARES? WHO DESERVES IT?) and jean is like its of no matter (because he thinks erik wouldn't reciprocate. he's not the exactly right gender)
then jean spends a long time thinking it over and realizes that even if erik doesn't return his feelings, erik seems like someone who would benefit from being told that in this world Someone does loves him, even if he [erik] doesn't love jean back. so he tells him and it takes a while to convince erik of it but then erik remembers that jean said his love for erik is "no matter" and goes batshit about it bc does this mean he doesn't matter to jean????
and jean tells erik that it does matter. it matters to him a lot. erik matters to him a lot. but he can't give erik what he wants, their relationship would not exactly be an open one. it would be some secret thing, at the very least half hidden from society. he won't impose that on erik when he knows erik wants his little walks in the park with his lover........ erik's showing the 404 error code.
anyways idk how it goes from here but they'll get together. i swear
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rangersbecket · 9 months
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the cassius girlie experience
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fairyroses · 14 days
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He was about to kill you, Lex. Or divulge something you didn't want me to know.
— SMALLVILLE, "Forever" (4.21)
+ bonus from "Arctic" (7.20):
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#smallville#smallvilleedit#svedit#lex luthor#jason teague#lionel luthor#clark isn't in these scenes but they're still very much#clex#sv 4x21#sv 7x20#dcmultiverse#my gifs#'why can't you see what's right in front of your face lex?' god. god. godddd.#I think there's a really interesting discussion to be had (with many potential viewpoints)#re: to what extent lex actually knew the truth either consciously or subconsciously at any particular time#and how much he was just in denial about it (and why)#I'm not really prepared to have that discussion in these tags but like#let's face it - lex figured out that clark had powers all the way back in 1x12#just because clark convinced him he was wrong at the time doesn't mean he just forgot that whole thing#and yet it seemed like the more seasons went on and the more obvious the truth became#especially the fact that clark was so heavily tied to all the alien weirdness of smallville#the more lex seemed to (subconsciously?) push back against accepting or recognizing that truth#I mean that's literally what he's doing in the 4x21 scene with jason#so it's like he both desperately wanted to know clark's secret but also didn't want to know at all#and that's just SO interesting#I mean jesus the 7x20 scene is supposed to be peak evil lex and yet he STILL has to be pushed into accepting the truth#and he does so with his eyes glistening because yeah he wanted to know clark's secret once upon a time but he never wanted THIS#(remember when lex told jonathan in s1 that he just wanted clark to have a happy normal life bc clark was such a good person?#and then he's told in 7x20 that to save the world he has to KILL clark and take that life away from him hahaha [crying] it's fine I'm FINE)#wow I really said 'I'm not prepared to have this discussion' and then just. proceeded to have it anyway huh. lmao oops
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hwanswerland · 1 year
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apnourry · 2 months
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life is great and I want a brownie🫶
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