#i once again reiterate that i always said that i would be so annoying when this show came out and i'm nothing if not honest

[fallingbyjuleecruise]

genuinely feel that the drama happening in the amc iwtv fandom is what happens when fans promote a show bc it’s gay first and do not mention the plot/genre at all

#like a bunch of twitter kids who only watch cw shows or bridgerton tuned in expecting the vampire diaries or twilight but gay #and instead got a heavy gothic narrative about the cyclical nature of abuse and interpersonal violence #and it’s fine if it’s not your bag but it’s not racist to have black ppl at the center of a fucked up complex narrative #especially when blackness and race play a huge role and add a lot of fantastic nuance to the story #one of the big points in the early vampire chronicles books are that all vampires are evil; that is the nature of being a vampire #louis is evil! claudia is evil! and of course lestat is evil! #and while louis and claudia do not deserve the abuse they suffer at lestat’s hands do not expect moral purity from them #that’s simply not going to happen #why would want to flatten their characters to be caricatures of what you think a perfect victim should be #instead of allowing their intricacies and messiness to shine through and create a really powerful and tragic story about love and grief? #this is literally the lightest book; these twitter fans will not survive the winter (s2 and 3) #i once again reiterate that i always said that i would be so annoying when this show came out and i'm nothing if not honest #amc interview with the vampire #my posts #.txt

[willowser]

HMMMMMM interesting to think about arranged marriage with prince shouto...............

i think he wouldn't know. what to expect with you. i think he'd have an idea, as in, what his father, the king, has taught him; the duties of a wife, where your importance ranks in relation to his duties. what he's not meant to discuss with you, like politics and matters at court and foreign relations. how you will speak to him. what to buy in the event that you become...unhappy. a nuisance.

("and she will," enji had muttered, briefly glancing up from the parchment on his desk to fix shouto with a look he didn't understand. "they always do.")

you don't meet until the royal wedding, when you're coming down the long aisle of the grand cathedral, dressed up in a swathe of silk and lace. a thin, gossamer veil hides you from him, but he can feel the ardor in your eyes, the intensity burning through the material. it doesn't seem real until your bare face is only a breath from his own, until he has to see the earnestness in your stare, too.

your kiss is simple and chaste, nothing spectacular, something that leaves his mind as soon as it's over. ever a todoroki, a hundred other things enter his mind, all regarding his now iron-laid obligations: it's vital he meet with advisor keigo to reiterate the plan to establish his authority among the council; general aizawa is in attendance to the wedding, and shouto has not yet received word on his opinion of the new king's ideas to modernize their armed forces; midoriya is somewhere, no doubt wanting to go over state affairs again.

truthfully, shouto doesn't spend long "celebrating". there's already too much that's required of him, hardly enough time to even scarf down a few bites of the banquet laid out before he's being chartered off into discussions on foreign relations and infrastructure development. maybe once or twice does he look back to check on you, chatting pleasantly with his mother and sister at the front of the great hall, and that's satisfying enough.

it's not until much later that he sees you again; freshly bathed and wearing something sheer and long and white, atop his bed.

or his marriage bed, he must remind himself.

enji didn't spend long going over consummation, with him or either of his brothers—natsuo, red-faced and annoyed at the very subject, always storming off, and touya had seemed well-aware of the process, at the time (back before he'd been ex-communicated). it had sounded simple: strip off your dress, get his cock out and into you, and only retreat once he was sure his seed had been spilled.

—so he's not exactly sure what to do or think or how to feel, when you're laid bare and reaching up to hold his face.

it's so startling that he sits back on his knees, to frown where he's looming over you.

you stare at him quietly, like you're expecting him to say something, and he only has a moment to wonder if this is you becoming an unhappy nuisance—what had been the answer, to solve this, anyway?—before you let out a soft laugh.

"c'mere," you tell him, sitting up, too, when he keeps his distance. "i want you to kiss me."

"i already have."

"yes," you laugh again, amusement glowing in your eyes, like the warmth off the fireplace, as you reach for the ties on his trousers. "but you're meant to do it again."

and up until then, he'd felt confident in his achievements, his executions; he'd managed a lot today, in one evening, and he had a lifetime to manage more. it was a good a start as any, he'd thought, but now—

shouto almost can't get the words out when he feels your hands ghosting up the inside of his shirt, nails tickling over his ribs. "a-am i?"

you wrap your arms around his waist in what could be a hug, scooting forward to look up at him with your chin against his chest. "yes," you smile and—it's familiar in a way, how touya would whenever he was teasing. "you're my husband, you're meant to kiss me whenever i want."

that—was not something his father had ever said, he was sure, and it was a too-rare exchange between his own parents. now that he thinks about it—and he does, then, because he's faced with the reality that he doesn't know as much as he should—he's not sure the former king and queen even sleep in the same room, much less the same bed.

much less hug and touch and even smile, the way you do now.

there's no argument he can make against it, aside from finding keigo to find his father to verify the truth to such a statement, and he's only meant to retreat from this bed on one condition.

and if this is what it takes to meet that—then shouto supposes he'll have to do it, for now. he's a brand new king, after all, and it would seem he still has much to learn.

#i just really like the idea of shouto being raised to be like #alright. meet with advisors. council meeting. get married. consummate. find general aizawa. #like it's just another stepping stone #to be married #and you are very much like oh 😊🩷 my husband 😊🩷 #and he's SOOOO thrown by that #that's not how he was taught it would go LOL #and you want to hug and kiss and hold hands 🥺 #if he spends too long in meetings you take the dinner from the royal dining table and march right into that room #to have dinner with your husband god damn it #LOL #and maybe he even asks his mom like 'is this right ???' and she's like #yeah 🥺🥺 it is 🥺🥺 #and then he finds this weird odd unexpected happiness with you that he was never taught to expect 🥺 #✿ thoughts: shouto #✿ willow writes

[azriels-shadowsinger]

you should totally do number 12 with az or rhys 🥺

“When have you ever cared?” “I’ve always cared.”

Azriel x Reader

wc: 2k

a/n: i always love a good rivals to lovers story. warning: descriptions of blood and injuries.

prompt list

You hate Azriel. Absolutely hated him. You hate his cocky attitude, you hate the way he never wants you on missions, you hate the way girls seem to fawn over him at Rita’s, and most of all, you hate the way that you can’t stop being attracted to him. Which made the current situation worse, because you were having trouble focusing on training when Azriel was shirtless and sweaty sparring with Cassian across the ring.

After the fifth time of you getting knocked onto the floor by your sparring partner after getting distracted, Emerie eventually gave up on you.

“How are you supposed to be ready for your mission tomorrow if you are so unfocused?” she laughed.

“I’ll be fine. I do-“ You stop speaking when you feel a shadowy presence lurk over you.

“Can I help you Azriel?” You ask sarcastically, turning to face him.

“You’re not going.” Azriel replied gruffly.

“Excuse me?” You scoff.

“I said you’re not going on the mission.” You roll your eyes. Of course he would try to keep you off of yet another mission. You had prepared for that and got Rhysand to personally ensure that you could go this time.

“Take that up with Rhys. He said I’m going.” You say with a victorious smirk.

“We’ll see about that.” He grumbles, storming off towards Rhysand’s office. You wait patiently with a smug smile on your face, pretending to be preoccupied with sharpening your daggers, as he returns.

“You will not do anything without my say so. You will not stray from the mission at all, under any circumstances. If I give an order, you follow it. Do you understand?” He spits angrily, obviously upset over Rhysand’s decision.

“Whatever you say, spymaster. I’ll see you at 6 AM to head out.” You say smugly and turn to leave.

———

You meet Azriel the next morning, and he is already visibly agitated. After an overly detailed discussion of the mission plan, he winnows the two of you to the mission spot.

Azriel made sure to reiterate the plan again once you arrived, earning an annoyed eyeroll at the implied lack of faith in your skills. The plan was that he would infiltrate the safe house, capture the enemy, and extract him from the building to bring him back for interrogation. You were only there to help carry the unconscious body, apparently. You reluctantly agree to the plan, realizing that arguing would get you nowhere. At least you were allowed to join this time.

“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Be ready to winnow.” He whispers before disappearing into the shadows.

Fifteen minutes passed. Then twenty. Then thirty. After forty minutes, you were fully convinced something had gone horribly wrong.

Fuck it. You didn’t care if he got pissed, you’re going in to check that everything is okay.

You move closer to the building and peek into the window. No movement. You sneak closer to the door, slipping inside inconspicuously. Upon entering, you begin to scan the area for any signs of Azriel. You walk further inside turning the corner, and that’s when you see it: blood on the floor, and Truthteller lying discarded next to it. That cannot be a good sign, you think while trying to shove your panic down deep. You quickly pick up the abandoned blade and examine the area closer, following the trail of blood and the sound of voices through the halls. When you finally reach a large room, you see exactly what you were afraid of. Azriel is bound against the wall unconscious and bloody. The target is watching him while conversing with someone, twirling a knife in his hand.

“Just kill him already.” The other fae complains.

“No. Do you not realize who this is, you imbecile? This is the spymaster of the High Lord. Once Rhysand realizes he is missing, he will come try to rescue him, and then we can finally take that undeserving half-breed out. Hopefully, he brings the general, and we can kill the bastard too. Only then will I kill the shadowsinger, but not until we get to have our fun with him. I’m sure there are some juicy secrets of the court we can carve out of him.” You feel nauseated at the sickening grin on the male’s face.

Your duty is to this court, and cannot allow Rhysand and Cassian to be put in danger over this. Nor can you sit by and watch Azriel be tortured by this cruel, idiotic male. Idiotic because he didn’t use magical bindings to lock Azriel up, allowing his shadows to roam free. They circle their master, obviously frantic that he cannot hear them.

A small shadow darts towards you, and soon the rest follow. The shadows swirl around you, expectantly, going completely unnoticed by the two males.

“Um, I’m not entirely sure if you can understand me, but I have a plan. If you all could make it very dark in here, that would be great.” You ask awkwardly, hoping the shadows understand. They apparently do, because soon the entire room goes dark, except for the path between you and Azriel.

“What the- hey!” You hear the other male yell and footsteps run towards you. Unable to see through the shadows, you throw a dagger towards the noise. Without checking to see if you hit your target, you hurry to free Azriel from his chains. Once his hands are free, you grab onto him and attempt to winnow.

Winnowing long distances was always a challenge for you, you’re not sure why. What takes others a single jump takes you five. You hold tightly to Azriel and try to winnow. The world around you begins to fade, turning into blackness. Before the sight can completely fade, however, you see a knife come hurdling towards you, landing directly in your thigh.

The sudden burning pain causes you to lose focus, and the world abruptly reappears around you, causing both you and Azriel to land face first in the dirt of a random forest.

“Fuck!” You yell in pain. Either the fall or the sound of your yelling seems to have roused Azriel because you hear faint grumbling beside you before he falls unconscious again. As you attempt to stand, searing pain shoots down your leg from the wound in your thigh. You bite your lip, trying to ignore the stabbing ache. Now is not the time to focus on your pain. You need to get the two of you to safety, you remind yourself. You pull the blade out from your leg with a cry. Once you compose yourself again, you wrap a piece of cloth torn from your shirt around your leg to stop the bleeding. You grab ahold of Azriel again and attempt to winnow, but for some reason, you can’t. That’s when you notice the faint green tinge on the discarded blade.

“Gods damned faebane.” You curse lowly. You won’t be winnowing anywhere for a while. It’s likely in Azriel too, meaning you two are stuck. Great.

———

It took over an hour to drag the giant Illyrian through the forest, finally finding an abandoned cabin. By the time you reach it, you feel lightheaded from the blood loss and from hauling Azriel. There is absolutely no way you could lift him, so once he is safely inside on the floor, you search the cabin for first aid materials. You find a roll of gauze and a bottle of liquor. That will have to do, you think.

You manage to bite your tongue through the pain of cleaning and dressing your wound and begin to work on Azriel’s. As soon as the alcohol-soaked cloth touches his cut, the male jolts up in a panic. One quick look around at the unfamiliar cabin and you tending to his injuries, and Azriel freaks.

“What the hell happened? Where are we? Are you bleeding?” He fires on a string of questions, one after another.

“Breathe. We’re okay. You got captured, not entirely sure how honestly, and I had to save your ass. We are waiting here until the faebane leaves our systems.” You try to sound calm, but that doesn’t stop your racing heart. Azriel thinks for a moment, looking around the cabin. His eyes land on the bloody bandaged wound on your thigh again, and he immediately becomes angry.

“You came in after me?” He barks.

“Uh, yeah?” You ask, confused at his anger.

“You disobeyed a direct order!” Azriel growls.

“You were in trouble!” Why the hell are you having to defend yourself for saving him?

“I don’t care. You should’ve followed orders. I would’ve gotten myself free eventually.” He snaps. You huff in annoyance.

“You stupid arrogant male, they were going to torture you! And then use you to lure Rhys and Cass and kill them too! How the hell was I supposed to sit by and let that happen?” You scream angrily. He attempts to stand, wincing at the pain. You want to tell him that he should stay sitting, but it’s unlikely that he will listen.

“You should’ve stayed outside.” He growls, stalking closer.

“You would be dead if I did that!” You stare him down in defiance.

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have gotten hurt!” That makes you pause. Is that why he’s angry, you wonder.

“Despite what you may think about my skills, I’m perfectly capable of withstanding a minor injury from a mission!” You argue.

“You shouldn’t have to.” He spits coldly.

“Since when do you care what happens to me?” You scoff.

“I’ve always cared.” His voice drops to being barely audible and he turns away. You freeze.

“What?”

“Nevermind. I’m gonna start a fire while we wait.” He grumbles. You walk around him to face him, blocking the fireplace.

“No, what did you mean you’ve always cared? You hate me. Everyone knows it.” You ask hesitantly. This must be some new attempt to embarrass you or something, you rationalize.

“I’ve never hated you.” He whispers, avoiding eye contact by staring at the floor.

“I don't understand. Then why do you always keep me out of missions? Why do you ignore me any time I try to be nice?” You ask angrily.

“I… fuck.” He runs his hand through his hair before looking you in the eyes. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. Either from missions or by me.” The last words come out quieter than the rest. “I thought that ignoring you and keeping you off missions would keep you kept you at a safe distance. I didn’t want to risk you being targeted just because of how I feel about you.” Your eyes soften at the admission.

“That wasn’t your decision to make. I get to decide what is worth the risk for me.” You say in a gentler tone. Azriel looks at the floor again, shaking his head.

“You don’t get it. Today is a perfect example. The people in my life that I care about are constantly at risk.”

“Did I not handle myself?” You ask, causing him to sigh.

“That isn’t the point. You don’t-“ You cut him off, pressing a kiss to his lips. Azriel stands frozen for a second, before quickly wrapping his hands into your hair and holding you closer. “Fuck it.” He mumbles while kissing you, backing you into the wall.

It’s safe to say that you and Azriel found very good use of your time while you waited for the faebane to wear off.

———

Rhysand was less than thrilled to hear about the unsuccessful mission when you returned. After you two showed him what happened, obviously leaving out what happened at the cabin, the three of you made a plan to go back and capture the two males. Azriel tried to argue about you going, but one stern look from you and he quickly shut up.

“Well, it seems like you two sorted out your issues.” Rhys laughs, not noticing Azriel’s smirk.

prompt list

tag list: @fxckmiup

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #azriel #azriel acotar #my writing #azriel x reader #acotar x reader

[parkerpeter24]

this is my idea for the spider-man x fangirl thing

so peter and reader are best friends and reader always talks about how much she loves spider-man and peter always rolls his eyes and acts annoyed even though deep down it makes him happy. then one day reader was walking at night when she got like robbed or something and gets saved by spider-man. he swings her to someplace safe and when she calms down she starts freaking out that she met spider-man . you can add more but idk i’m not good at this but that’s jus like an idea??

let’s hope you guys enjoy this.

pairing ➳ peter parker x reader.

masterlist

“so you don’t think it’s like, a fifth date kind of revelation?” you asked peter as the two of you walked on the pavement. when a reply didn’t come out of your best friend, you looked to the side, only to catch him giving you the same look of exasperation, “what? oh, come on. i’m not in love with him!”

“you’re in love with him.” he concluded, “why do you even wanna know who he is?”

“i don’t know, i’m just-”

“in love with him.” peter reiterated, forcing you to give him a glare to shut up.

“curious.” you said, rolling your eyes.

the two of you walked in silence for a while as you made your way towards delmar’s deli. you had decided to go to peter’s for today’s study session and you were ready to eat off his ear again talking about spider-man. and he knew. he’d seen the new video of himself– the link to which you’d sent him– fighting off four guys at the same time.

you kept him updated on spider-man and even though he pursed his lips and rolled his eyes whenever you started getting all giddy about the new news, the only people who knew you had a crush on peter– well, spider-man– were himself and ned.

after getting your favorite sandwiches, you both made your way to peter’s place, a few blocks away. once you were inside, you made a beeline for his room, setting down your backpack on his bed.

“that’s new.” peter pointed, noticing the pop socket stuck to your mobile cover. you looked at it and nodded.

“there was only one left. i had to buy it.” you grinned as you sat down, pulling out your books.

“if you would just admit it, you’re obsessed.” peter chuckled, sitting down beside you.

“am not.” you raised your eyebrows.

“are too.” peter retaliated, making you roll your eyes at him again, “come on, it’s not a bad thing.”

you shrugged, “i just admire him.”

it was pretty late at night when you left his place, may was yet to come back and you missed her trying to make you stay for dinner. putting your hands in either pockets of your jacket, you began your walk to your place.

but just a few blocks down and you spotted a man in dark grey hoodie and torn jeans. you tried to walk past him but got worried when he started following you. as your steps quickened, his did too. just as you were about to run, the guy held your arm, pulling you into an alley.

you were shocked, he had pointed a knife right at your exposed neck. you tried not to move as he gave you an intimidating look, “hand me your money and we’re even.”

you trembled, trying to open your mouth. your mouth came out shakey, “p-please, i have nothing- j-just books.”

you felt the cold metal pressing against your skin, the slightest sting on your neck as you gulped, closing your eyes as tears pooled in them.

the next few seconds were very confusing. you were free, the pressure on your arm and disappearing as you heard a ‘thwip’. the knife was yanked out of the robber’s hand, and he got a kick to the side of his rib, making him fly further into the alley.

you gasped as your saviour landed in front of you, robotic eyes squinting at the guy, “come on, dude! ‘no’ means no.”

he yelled towards the guy before turning to you, noticing the tears in your eyes, “hey... are you okay? ...miss.”

your mouth opened, then closed. then opened. then closed again.

“it’s okay. i think you’re star-struck.” he tried to ease the tension. you noticed he moved his hands a lot.

“um... thank you for... knocking that guy out.” you wiped away your face and touched your neck, feeling the smallest cut, “i wasn’t planning on getting killed tonight.”

“you should clean that up.” you noticed he moved his hands a lot when he talked. it made your heart flutter a little. on the same night, the superhero had managed to save your life and make you feel all warm just by being the way you’d imagined him from the youtube videos.

you nodded at him, “i will...”

“you can call me spider-man.” he shrugged and you liked the idea that he might have been smiling at you under the mask. you noticed that he was making his voice sound thicker, putting on a heavy accent, but you tried to ignore it, following that he was in a full body spandex suit.

“i will, spider-man.” you smiled back.

“i... could walk you to the home.” he offered, almost immediately adding, “just to make sure you’re safe!”

you nodded your head, “well, unless you have to go save someone else...”

“i’m free for now.” he chuckled as as started leading the way.

as the two of you walked, a silence overtook the atmosphere. you tried to scan your brain for something, just so you could avoid the awkwardness, “i’m a big fan, by the way.”

peter wanted to laugh at your giddy voice. he’d never heard you be this shy around him– which, now that he thought, was making him a bit jealous of his alter ego, “thanks! just doing my job as the friendly neighborhood spider-man.”

once the two of you had reached your apartment complex, you faced the superhero, “thank you, spider-man.”

he did a little salute with two of his fingers, “glad to help.” and with that he took off, swinging away from you.

you sighed softly, feeling a little disappointed at his departure. you went inside and texted peter immediately– characters mismatched and all caps as you typed– ‘THETES NO WAY YPURE GONNA BELIEVE EHAT HAPPED!!!’

peter chuckled, watching the texts come through on his screen as he sat atop your building.

the brunette sighed softly, “man, tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.”

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #mcu peter parker #mcu spiderman #tasm peter parker #tasm peter x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #peter parker x you

[lestappenforever]

Hello my lovely, your social-psychological anon haunting your inbox once more- can you tell I have such awful lestappen and f1 brain rot? 🤭

I have some thoughts on rbr lestappen but I first want to comment on the wonderful ask from anon who referenced the Max reacting to Charles’ comment on him video. That’s exactly right- every small comment from Charles is most likely obsessively internalised and dissected to the extreme- and what Mona speaks about in response of how max and Charles have been tied together from childhood with even Jos verstappen saying they will fight forever - it makes me wonder, and this is pure speculation- but there is a method to my madness - if there was an element of Jos setting Charles on a pedestal (you know im that annoying way that parents go “look at this [insert achieved acquaintance] they are such a good example you ought to learn from them” which breeds resentment but once again I speak from experience in an athletically competitive environment, it also breeds admiration because here is this other person who is amazing at this sport). We know that Jos has a specific way of disciplining max in racing (saying he will never achieve anything , that he will be a truck or taxi driver) which makes me wonder if Jos used Charles as a marker of success (“Charles is so good/ you won’t be like Charles he will go onto f1 and you won’t”) to encourage and cultivate Max’s competitive spirit. And that’s why max hated charles but also admired him and because charles had Jos’ approval, by extension charles is automatically in a position to give that approval to max. I’ve never really thought of it this way but it really would make sense why max is so eager to please Charles and cares so much about what he thinks of him because throughout maxs childhood Charles was the benchmark, he was the golden boy (still is), he was what max sought to reach.

This theory would support and give greater contextual depth to what I said previously about max ignoring interviews because he is just so happy to have Charles’ attention and is afraid of losing it; he just values it so highly. Also pay attention to when Charles is talking, max almost always demonstrates active listening by nodding but he does so much more to show he is involved with adding hand signs and affirmatives of “yeah me too, I had the same thing, on turn 1 right?” To really show how engaged he is and also to keep Charles’ attention too by engaging him in literally every way possible during a conversation.

So thank you so much for such interesting thoughts I value them so highly and am so happy that people actually like these takes and understand/ see what I see not just from a shipping perspective because I find their interactions and relationship just so fascinating and full of nuance.

Anyway, back on track; some brain thoughts on rbr Charles and Lestappen teammates. There are a series of concerns and complaints I will go over like the whole 1-2 driver strategy and how they’re both WC contenders and it would be unfair for Charles to be a second driver/ how Charles polished personality does not fit the red bull vibe/ and how he would be entering a team that literally orbits max plus the infamous second red bull seat curse.

Well my two cents on this is that all of these concerns are wrong because:

- red bull have stated, very dramatically, during the initial rumours of talks held with Lando and Charles that they are abandoning the traditional 1-2 driver format and they want two championship contenders. This has been said I am sure but I have to reiterate the point that F1 is not just a sport in the way that Olympic events are about the sport. F1 is a show, you’re there for the races but also for the drama for the content for the interactions and the entertainment. And red bull pride themselves in being “shit stirrers” and just an out of pocket team (which I think is beautiful 😂🫡) and if any team would take risks like that in abandoning the traditional format it will be red bull and they will absolutely throw themselves into providing this. It is also likely that they decided on this very early in the season (before they started talks w either Charles or Lando) because that is also when Max changed the tune of his horn by saying he would like to have Charles as a teammate whereas last year he was like absolutely not because Charles doesn’t deserve to be second driver. So technically max revealed their departure from 1-2 strategy before red bull made it clear (around mid season). I feel like someone literally switched a mental gear in max’s head where he was like “Charles is my rival he could never be a second driver” and someone went “what about we let you be teammates and rivals at the same time” and max’s brain just short circuited

- As for Charles coming into this equation - into a team so heavily focused on max- I don’t think that’s an issue. We have seen -especially in recent weeks- that Charles seems to really get on with the rb team and has a good relationship with them so he isn’t like a complete outsider coming into a team that is resistant to having him on board. I think the most incriminating thing from lestappen gate so far (there is so much omg) is the interactions with the red bull team. Not the drivers but the rb representative in Mexico and Brad this weekend. We have been speculating on the rb Charles rumours since the start of the season and not once have we seen this happen that other teams mechanics are congratulating and interacting with another teams drivers (it’s even more incriminating because it’s red bull, like the most aggressively competitive team on the grid). Plus it just doesn’t happen, I really don’t remember ever seeing this except when an ex driver was congratulated by their previous team (checo w racing point after move to rbr and Seb w red bull after move to Ferrari). Huge bonus is that very fascinating interaction w Christian and Christian’s general tendency toward defending Charles and praising him. He really does act at times as if Charles is an rbr golden boy, I have noticed this year more than ever Christian and even GP saying “Charles” rather than “Leclerc” on the radio and it just conveys a degree of familiarity that we haven’t really seen before. It is extremely obvious to me that they want him there and have de facto adopted him.

- the rbr second seat curse literally stems from the fact that rbr, up to now, have had a 1-2 strategy where the second driver simply cannot keep up the max. They are nowhere near maxs level nor do their driving styles compliment maxs. Though checo’s defending is a really good compliment to maxs “attacking” though he just cannot keep up and with the capabilities of the rb19 and Maxs ability to absolutely send it, there is no real use in defending, also check just can’t keep up like he can’t even defend himself in midfield let alone max. He will pull one or two absolute bangers out of the bag but he cannot keep up with the pace, the intensity and the pressure especially when it comes with actually extracting everything that absolute rocket ship has to offer. I think rbr recognised this and this is another reason for them wanting two contenders 1) for showmanship and entertainment and living up to their brand as unorthodox risk takers and 2) 1-2 strategy has thus far led to a string of inadequate second drivers. Obviously Charles is a great option for a second contender driver but more so than just being able to keep up with max, he has almost the same exact driving style and car preference. Every time they talk about racing each other they always say they especially enjoy their fights because it’s always on the limit they’re always pushing each other always attacking and we know that max is aggressive in his driving style but I don’t think people really pay attention to how aggressive Charles is, he is just a bit more calculated about it (like overtaking Lewis then braking into him so tsunoda can catch up to Lewis and pick at him before speeding off whereas max would have just done a clean overtake and sped away) when there is a chance of overtake he always goes for it and does so aggressively (he just has a tendency to get bogged down when he qualifies in the mid field because he does not have the right car that is suited to his preferences enough for extraordinary overtakes). The way he drives the car also is so fascinating because it’s the same as max (look at Baku qualifying lap and look at their racing lines), they both literally throw their cars and push them to the absolute limit which is why Charles is such a quali beast because he knows how to wrench every ounce of pace out of an uncooperative tractor. Both he and max have a preference for borderline un-drivable cars that heavily lean into oversteer with a light back making the car extremely sensitive. If they were both teammates I actually believe that they would be grid terrorists- if their car would look anything like the rb19 they would take off with a 10sec gap to p3 and be battling each other for p1. If they find themselves more tightly squeezed by others (or somehow end up in midfield) they would almost intuitively work together because they know how the other drives and they most likely can predict the others moves

- About tensions on the team between two competitors, I think that is an inevitability but I really don’t think it would ever reach the type of explosiveness we have seen previously because of everything else that these analysis type of asks have said- the respect is there, tiptoeing around each other is there- wanting to please the other is there- if anything, there would be a greater inclination toward cooperation and fighting together against the others because of that special relationship between max and Charles, the performative aspect of the relationship- to prove that max and Charles are the same and that they (as a duo) are different than the rest of the grid and that it is them against the others except it would be much intensified if they were teammates by proximity and having so many opportunities to interact. It would strengthen their bond but as I have previously said, it will not remove that special aspect of their relationship.

- Also just a side note: you cannot convince me that Christian Horner, red bull and max wouldn’t be bending over backwards to ensure Charles wins in Monaco. Max wouldn’t give it to him because that wouldn’t be a win but he absolutely would punt anyone trying to challenge Charles into the bay and I just know that Christian Horner would treat his golden boys right, it would genuinely be a dream come true for him and helmut and just amazing for red bull and their image of “literally unstoppable team that snagged Ferraris star driver and have bagged the inevitable and the predestined, F1’s literal future, in one team and gave them an intercontinental ballistic missile to drive, one that would cause any other driver to bottle it into the wall because it is an otherwise un-drivable oversteery piece of work.”

In conclusion, I think teammate lestappen would be absolutely extraordinary. They would fight each other and push each other up to the edge and when one of them is about to fall the other pulls him back. Absolutely unstoppable duo and I hope that Charles has come to his sense even slightly about Ferrari that, like most dreams, it does not live up to expectations. There are clearly very ugly team politics involved and a healthy does of nepotism, complacency and riding the historical prestige wave and the unfailing loyalty of their fans.

Fingers crossed for lestappen podium today 🫶✨

Social-psychological anon coming into my inbox claiming they are haunting my inbox, and then proceeding to provide yet another excellent take on Lestappen, including the potential Lestappen RBR teammates.

Babe, love, darling, if this is you haunting my inbox, then I would like to be haunted for the rest of my life, please and thank you.

Social-psychological anon, I adore you more than words can say. Crossing everything I have for a Lestappen podium today. 🤞🫶

#Asks #Lestappen asks #Social-psychological anon #Lestappen dynamics anons #Lestappen gate 2023

[thestobingirlie]

I hate the 'Eddie is secretly super smart' thing.

Teachers wouldn't hold him back ~just because~ With what we know about him, they would want someone like that out. Why would teachers want to keep back a known drug dealer who has had trouble with the police (from s4e2, Max's mom says 'looks like that Munson boy's in trouble again' when the police are there. That massively implies that the police have been at the trailer park because of Eddie at least once, if not multiple times, in the few months that they have lived there).

They wouldn't unless they had to. And with the way he behaves with walking on the tables in the lunchroom and shouting about stuff and talking down to others. The teachers wouldn't want to have to deal with that longer than necessary, for themselves and other students. His grades and attendance must have been really poor for him to get held back twice. If he'd been borderline for getting held back or not, they might have even just given the few extra points he needed so they could be free of him.

But I'm certain it's just people can't handle Steve not being the dumbest one of the group.

I've seen fics where Eddie got skipped ahead two grades when he was younger, just to get held back two grades after everything bad happened. And that is something I really don't vibe with.

And the making Eddie seem smarter thing seems to go hand in hand with the fics that age Steve up to 20/21 in season 4, but still have him as having graduated the previous summer, just before the events of season 3. As if they believe if Eddie got held back, Steve must have as well, because Steve cannot be smarter than Eddie. The ageing Steve up thing also makes him seem more pathetic, and kind of a creep, for being friends with the kids.

But Eddie's friends don't seem to think he's that smart, their comments when Eddie is talking about graduating seem to imply that they don't think he's going to graduate 'Didn't you say that last year?' 'And the year before?'

(All these things that make out that Eddie is so much smarter than Steve makes me want to write a fic with bitchy Steve about it. Like the kids talk up Eddie's intelligence, but insult Steve's and Steve just kind of snaps? 'Oh, yeah, the guy who had to repeat senior year twice and needed a government disaster to graduate is obviously way smarter than the guy who graduated on time even with having a traumatic brain injury for half his senior year.')

people put way too much stock into the teachers hating eddie. why would they keep eddie back because they didn’t like him? they’d just try to get him expelled, not keep him around. it’s just some weird, ‘it’s all a conspiracy thing’, and i don’t get it lol.

like you said, he gets in trouble with the police, he sells drugs to fellow students, he climbs on tables and fails lessons. he just isn’t the kind of student you would force to stay in school lmao

oh yeah, totally agree. making eddie an academic genius is just another attempt to make him that much better than steve. and it’s like… steve graduated high school at 18. he wasn’t held back. in this one aspect, he succeeded where eddie didn’t. that’s not a bad thing, it’s just a fact.

i think with the whole, eddie’s friends back up eddie just not being good at school, it’s just another case of people not really paying attention/forgetting what canonically happens.

also, i said this in the tags of the post, but i just want to reiterate that i don’t really care that much when people write other interpretations of the characters. like, discussions about whether steve actually applied for college are interesting, and allow a chance to dive deeper into his character and motivations, even if not strictly canon.

but making eddie smart doesn’t really do this, it’s always just, “his teachers fail him :( doesn’t eddie suffer more than jesus”, with very little actual character work. not to mention it totally oversaturated canonical readings of his character, and that annoys me lmao

(steve would not take any flack about his intelligence coming from kids applauding the dude that failed twice lmao)

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #asks #anon

[ass-sassafras]

If you're an introvert or neurodivergent and social interaction drains you, you may relate to this.

I used to get frustrated and emotional with my ex husband, and he'd be annoyed and baffled as to why I was stressed out when I'd come home from work. I told him I felt like I was always "on" even when I was home and I never had time for myself or quiet time with my own thoughts and so I got more exhausted every day even if I got enough sleep.

He assured me that I didn't have to feel like I was on. Then if I didn't remember something he told me about his job 3 months ago, he'd blow up at me because I wasn't listening to him and it showed that what he said wasn't important enough for me to remember. Keep in mind, this is technical, highly specialized stuff related to his job that I wasn't interested in and didn't understand. I'd ask clarifying questions and he'd immediately get angry because he already told me that a few months ago.

With my last s.o. I felt a little more free to disagree, having been through a divorce and having had some experience setting boundaries, getting comfortable with making people mad at me, etc. He reiterated that I didn't have to feel like I was "on" all the time and added that he didn't need anything from me when I got home from work. With a (I admit) mean-spirited twinkle in my eye, I confirmed "so you don't need anything at all from me?" He answered "that's right."

I proceeded to get home from work, take off my shoes and coat and go about making dinner. I didn't say hi or ask how his day was. When he told me what happened that day (open ended with no questions) I didn't think up a response. When the water was running in the kitchen and he kept talking from the couch, I didn't turn off the water and walk into the living room to hear him better, I just went about doing what I would do if I lived alone and could do whatever I wanted.

Can you guess what happened?

He said I was ignoring him, I was being rude, I was making him feel stupid like he was talking to himself.

I looked at him. I said, "so what do you need from me here?" He rolled his eyes and said again that he doesn't need anything from me. I said, "yes you do. You need me to think of a response to everything you're saying, you need me to chuckle at your jokes even if I think they're not funny, you need me to stop doing what I want to do and instead pay attention to you for as long as you need me to. You need a lot more from me than you think you do. You also need me to either be in a good mood or at least pretend I am even though I just did that all day around my coworkers and on the phone with customers. I had to put on a false face all day long, and apparently I need to keep it on until I finally get to go to bed tonight."

I reminded him that I get pretty much zero alone time while he gets hours of it nearly every day. Commuting doesn't count--I'm paying attention to traffic so I don't get into an accident. Getting myself and the kids ready in the morning doesn't count--I'm stressed out and trying not to forget anything important. Being at work doesn't count even if it's a slow time--I can't be weird and I can't get lost in thought because I know the phone could ring any time or someone could come to my desk without warning, and sometimes it's hard to put the mask back on once you finally get to take it off.

#neurodivergent #living with adhd #masking

[k7l4d4]

K Reviews and Rants: Miraculous Ladybug Season 5! Episode 3

Once more, I arrive like a comet, and once more, I depart, having left a glimpse into the madness within my mind! As always, warnings for profanity.

Episode 3: Destruction 

Okay, we get the first major scene, Marinette moping around... okay, I'll give props to Alya for seeing what Marinette would like with her tea, even if I'm still annoyed at what she did LAST episode. Really annoyed at how much they keep reiterating "how many powers Hawkm-sorry, MONARCH has," since it's not like it's any different from the fucking AKUMAS!!! 

And now we get Monarch trying to demand Orikko give him the power of time travel (while ignoring that he can FUCKING AKUMATIZE HIMSELF AGAIN TO DO JUST THAT YOU HAVE ALREADY GIVEN PEOPLE TIME TRAVEL POWERS!!!), and we get a vague and unhelpful explanation about how Kwamis' powers are tied to concepts... which doesn't actually answer why in the world Orikko can't give him the power to travel through time, since AGAIN, Nooroo has given powers like that in the past, WE KNOW THAT HE HAS. 

And now... we get Astruc's "that's not a power, that's a wish" BS. Just... this is idiotic. Tracking down someone else's source of power is VERY MUCH A POWER, it is not "a wish!!" Where in the fucking world is he drawing the lines in the sand with this!? This is nonsensical!! He's going out of his way to put as many needless roadblocks in Gabriel's way as possible, and when it is THIS OBVIOUS what someone is doing, it's just stupid. 

See, yanking the villains' chain to force them to rethink their plans can work... BUT NOT WHEN YOU ARE VISIBLY MAKING UP THE RULES AS YOU GO ALONG!!! 

Seriously, FUCK THIS SHIT Astruc! There is no coherent ruleset on display here, you are not TELLING us what the actual rules ARE, and making up exceptions and excuses at the drop of the hat! This is like that kid who always goes "you missed" in a game of pretend and will keep coming up with reasons WHY you missed, no matter how obvious he's cheating to always win he is. IOTA's blog is very well-named if Thomas thinks THIS is good writing. GOD DAMMIT does this piss me off!! 

Heck, like I said, WE KNOW THE BUTTERFLY CAN GIVE TIME TRAVEL POWERS, so not only is Orikko's claims suspect, HAWKMOTH HAS ENDED UP FORGETTING HIS ACTUAL POWERS!!! 

Like, I know "forgot about his powers" has its place as a trope... but this is transparently BS. 

Yeah... this is all just stupidity on so many levels. And we also have another case of why the "can't infringe on another Kwami's concept" line is BS. Hawkmoth literally gave Copycat a one-to-one replica of Chat Noir's Cataclysm without any kind of issues AT ALL. 

And now, we get a scene of the Kwami chanting "meanie" over and over again at Gabriel... and these things are meant to represent ancient miniature deities. Riiiiiggghhhttt. Like, is this meant to appeal to the target demographic? Because... dude, Thomas, this is just plain stupid. I have no other words beyond "you are making the ancient GODS act like five year olds." Uuuggghhh... 

And... apparently Marinette is still considered their holder... why? Like, what kind of BS is this?? What is the significance of being a holder?? We got a single scene ONCE in Season 2 of Gabriel "renouncing his contract with Nooroo," but this has never once been shown to have any serious significance before. Also, why would MARINETTE be considered their holder!? She's barely used ANY OF THEM AT ALL IN BATTLE OR IN GENERAL!!! 

Okay, Gabriel apparently had a good idea (for once) in asking the Kwami "where does Ladybug LIVE," which is honestly a pretty good loophole... IF I WERE NOT STILL PISSED OFF AT THE RULES-LAWYERING PRIOR TO THAT. And the best answer he gets is something to do about following the scent of crescent rolls, which is also a fairly decent loophole... but I have a bad feeling about where this stupidity is going to end. 

And... we get Hawkmo-sorry, "Monarch" In Marinette's bedroom. Nothing creepy about that, no siree bob! And... apparently this is the first step in some deeper, longer plot Marinette set-up. UUGGGGHHH!!! Gabe... you explicitly asked them "where does LADYBUG live," and going by how the magic literally makes you able to forcibly prevent the Kwamis from making sounds, they SHOULD NOT BE ABLE TO LIE TO YOU, so I'm pretty sure you should be able to figure out Marinette is Ladybug, after all, YOU FOUND OUT IT WAS HER IN TWO SEPARATE TIMELINES BASED ON A SINGLE LINE FROM YOUR SON!!! 

And a scene of Marinette's clumsiness... I haven't commented on this yet, but the way they portray her clumsiness makes me cringe because of just how... overexaggerated it tends to be. 

See, Thomas... a way this fiasco could've worked better would be if you applied "Lex Luthor rules" to this situation; have Gabriel be able to REALIZE Marinette is Ladybug... and then discard it because his own biases can't imagine his sworn enemy living such a mundane, humble life. THAT would make this massive pileup of plot contrivance SO MUCH MORE TOLERABLE. 

And now we get confirmation the Kwami are lying through their teeth to Monarch. Which makes all this plot contrivance EVEN WORSE because it makes me question why in the world he was able to bully answers out of Nooroo. Again, WHY THE FUCK HAS THIS SHOW NEVER DEFINED WHAT A HOLDER IS!? If they had, I'm pretty sure ninety percent of my headache over this episode would be fucking GONE already. 

And Marinette going on a rambling rant about her insecurities... really not the time and place. Also, not gonna lie, I like the subtle emphasis Monarch gave "Voyage." Also, how is the ice rink guy not freaking out over the LITERAL SUPERVILLAIN in front of him? You know what, not gonna think about this, the entire thing has been contrivance after contrivance since it started, THAT bit of "no survival skills" is honestly low on the ladder. 

And now... we get Monarch captured by Ladybug with Chat Noir posing as a statue... I'm gonna be even blunter than normal, what the fuck is even the point of this colossal ruse!? Seriously, this entire fiasco would've been more interesting if the scavenger hunt was REAL, but we already know it isn't because like FUCK the Kwami don't know where Marinette lives. Seriously, all this, just to get him into position to get Monarch, despite knowing all the places he's going to go on the hunt!? Like, they couldn't have put up an ambush earlier down the line, or, I dunno, at least put up the illusion of chasing him to make him think he's on the right trail!? And I can't remember, but isn't their really a statue of Chat Noir alongside the Ladybug statue? Then how was Chat able to take its place? Heck, this ENTIRE SET UP seems reliant on Chat being able to find out that Monarch is following the hunt and getting into position, since without him around, THEY CANNOT THREATEN HAWKMOTH USING THE CATACLYSM. Dear god is this fiasco poorly thought out, repress repress repress...!!! 

They also try and pull a "the Kwami had no choice...!" despite all the plot contrivance they baked into this stupidity. Also, did Marinette REALLY leave her address, sticking out of PUBLIC STATUE!? Granted, she could always replace it, but why the FUCK wouldn't one of the janitorial staff thrown it away!? Just... just gotta move on... 

Also, why in the world are they not taking all the Miraculouses right now, when they captured him?? They don't NEED HIM TO DETRANSFORM!! Seriously, they have FIRST HAND EXPERIENCE that it will happen automatically as soon as they take it off, so why did they waste so much time explaining how they set all this up!? Like, this is basically them wasting time when they have the villain LITERALLY HELPLESS!!! And then... Hawkmoth throws himself on the Cataclysm. Like... props for being hardcore, I guess. Though I do agree with Chat Noir, IS HE NUTS!? Seriously, Thomas, I must reiterate, WHAT ABOUT THIS GUY IS SUPPOSED TO BE SYMPATHETIC!? 

And when Hawkmoth uses Kaalki (seriously WHY DID THEY NOT GRAB THE MIRACULOUS THAT LETS HIM RUN AWAY FIRST!?) to escape, we get a scene of the Kwami being sucked away... I... I honestly do not remember if that's how that is supposed to work, because I distinctly remember a sick Tikki being able to be moved quite a decent distance from Marinette when she got mistaken as a toy by Chloe in Season 1, so why did they all get sucked away with him?? 

And Thomas, if you are gonna pull another "Marinette must always make a mistake" card moment for this BS... check. Your fucking. PRIVILEGE. Sorry if that doesn't make sense, but every time, EVERY FUCKING TIME We get stupidity like this, it feels like Thomas rips out that card as a "get out of criticism free" moment, and gloats about how genius he is. This is just idiotic on every level. 

Okay, and now we get the obligatory "what have I done/We failed moment" with the heroes. And Chat's being torn up over having Cataclysmed Hawkmoth, which I would say is a good thing... if I didn't know what was coming later on. 

But him going "he must be in so much pain." It feels OFF on every level. 

And now we get the breakdown of Marinette's plan... and it is still incredibly contrived since, AGAIN, it relies on the idea that the Kwami CAN lie to Hawkmoth, which undermines a lot of threat factor by making him have so little control over their actions. It's the fiasco with Queen Bee at the end of Miracle Queen all over again; like, Hawk Moth STOLE the Kwamis, and can com

mand them easily... but when Chloe tried it, they could just... tell her no? There is no consistency here. Like I said before, this would honestly make a better plot if it actually WAS a scavenger hunt for the Kwami to get back home, and Marinette had to scramble to lay a trap for him. 

Like, so much of this is Marinette acting like a chessmaster... and it falls flat on its face because of how much contrived BS is baked into the REASON Hawkmoth had to stumble ass-backwards into this shitty trap!! 

I just... I don't GET THIS. If they had taken time to set up how much will and independence Kwamis actually have with their wielders, defined what even a holder IS and what it means in terms of Kwamis, MAYBE this wouldn't be such a fiasco. But given this starts point blank with them adding a bunch of poorly defined qualifiers onto how the Rooster Miraculous WORKS as well as Hawkmoth FORGETTING HOW VERSATILE HIS OWN FUCKING POWER IS... yes, this is shit. 

And we get into the home stretch, Marinette is upset about how she failed, which is good. She honestly NEEDS genuine failures, REAL setbacks. And by "genuine" and "real" I mean ones that are actually the result of her fucking up. Even SUPERMAN fails sometimes, so why in the world would Marinette be an exception!? Yet... rather than consoling Marinette that she can do better next time, and that this showed how well she can plan strategically in the long term rather than just spontaneously... instead she basically writes off how much of this contrived fiasco had to go off PERFECTLY and involve Hawkmoth playing right into their hands, the numerous plot contrived BS forcing him into that situation in the first place, AND the fact that Marinette and Adrien accomplished NONE OF THEIR ACTUAL FUCKING GOALS, to say that this plan was a success and that Marinette's an amazing superhero. I'm sorry, but sometimes a hero doesn't need a boost to their self-esteem, they need reassurance that a failure doesn't define them. Alya, you fucked up right here, and Thomas, the fact that you aren't even acknowledging how the heroes failed to retrieve EVEN A SINGLE FUCKING MIRACULOUS just shows how contrived this BS plot really is. 

All that's left is Gabriel turning the Miraculouses into Rings, AKA the advent of the stupidest fucking costume in the show. I'll admit, while his "original" Look as Monarch wasn't the best, at least they put some FUCKING EFFORT into it. I even liked the stained-glass look. But what's coming? Blech. 

Oh, and the stupid as hell all white suit. Seriously dude, you DID NOT NEED THE SUIT. Just making your old suit fit tighter would've concealed the cataclysm injury just as fine. NOW it's over.

#miraculous ladybug #mlb season 5 spoilers #mlb season 5 salt #mlb writing critical #mlb writing salt

[pudgy-planets]

Very VERY annoyed Neon ranting below.

Right. I understand I might get flak for saying this, but even if you’re panicking, even if you’re concerned, it doesn’t give you the justification to LIE about something important. I don’t care.

I’m not saying their name or anything for I am not in a mood to start unnecessary drama.

Which is what happened. A friend of mine was having a panic attack, and I was doing everything I could in that time to help calm them down. Panic attacks happens, that’s okay, it’s a temporary lapse that is not permanent and whatever thoughts might be springing are not final nor are they always true.

They were going to hurt themselves and they ended cutting themselves with a knife. They apparently bandaged it. And during it all, I tried my best to calm them down and possibly convince them to seek professional help as I am not a therapist or psychologist and cannot adequately give them all the answers, just what I know.

To which they told me no, they’re not talking to some shrink or whatever. I brushed this off and didn’t bother with it. Then it continued on and they told me they were someone else as opposed to their current name. I assumed it was a dead name and I asked if they were Transgender. To which they replied they were and already underwent surgery and everything, but didn’t want anyone to know this fact.

Something I don’t even know why I asked in the first place CONSIDERING they told me before they were a ciswoman. But they continued to tell me, not to say anything or that they hurt themselves. Something I said, I don’t feel comfortable hiding this, because anyone who has thoughts like these seriously should consider contacting professional help. To which they literally said to me “I’ll do whatever you want, don’t don’t.”

After getting them to calm down finally. Or to the best of my limited ability. That was the end of it.

Come yesterday at around 5 PM they messaged me and told me that they needed to confess something. I didn’t think much of it. However, however- I was giving them the benefit of the doubt because I didn’t know.

…They confessed that when they said they were trans it was a lie. They were panicking and bleeding and thus jumped on my first assumption so I wouldn’t learn their embarrassing truth and apologized.

I would’ve never EVER learned of that "embarrassing truth" if you never told me in the first place. And reiterated they were a cis-woman, which only fueled my frustration when I remembered they said this blatantly.

Formed some identity online, realized it was wrong because they formed certain things about their person around it, and lied. But in one instance being reminded of the past, they took advantage of my assumption and lied.

Despite how calm I articulated my words. I was utterly livid. ABSOLUTELY LIVID. You do not, YOU DO NOT lie to me like that about anything. Yes, you’re not obligated to tell me everything, that’s how life is, but when you’re gonna lie to me about something as important as surgical transitioning… That decimates whatever trust I could have in you.

The worst part is, my trust has been manipulated multiple times here AND I am sick of it. I am exhausted of it. I’m tired of having it abused. Maybe I failed to see signs, maybe it was my own fault for putting TOO much trust into someone. Maybe it’s my own fault for desiring to see the best in people and being too nice. So currently I’m struggling with trusting people now because of this and it’s fucking infuriating.

And then once again, telling me they love me, all the good praises and words were true, and they would never lie to me again but in that moment I took with the biggest grain of salt which should’ve been generous in the first place, because if you’re gonna say something like that- everything you’ve said before comes under scrutiny.

I don’t hate them, but rest assured I’m fuckimg enraged and frustrated with all this. I like to think I’m a decent person, because being to nice to others is what I do and how I am, I don’t see the point treating others like crap, but yet I always seem to be treated like this whenever and however and it’s why I blame myself for everything.

I’m angry, I’m upset, I’m frustrated. If I ever find out you lie to me about something, there better a good justification otherwise I will rip you a new one.

That’s all.

#mun vents #mun vents heavily #if I didn’t get this out I would explode

[sasquatchboobs]

I'm honestly not sure if I'm bad at conversation skills or if we just have incompatible conversation styles. I often do like talking with him, but it often frustrates me as well. It feels like he will stop talking to allow me to respond, but instead of listening to what I say, he spends that time formulating what else he wants to say, without hearing or considering my words at all. So the "conversation," if transcribed, would read more like a monologue by him that I occasionally interrupted before he continues with his points, unchanged by whatever I said.

Then, if he does actually hear what I say, instead of understanding that I am "Yes and"-ing his point and adding on or developing his line of thought, he will almost always respond "No, what I was moreso saying was..." and just repeat his point. Like he gets annoyed that I have anything different to say that's not just affirming he's correct. And then needs to reiterate his point, because obviously I didn't understand his correctness the first time or I would have responded "Yes you're right" and nothing more.

Like, for a super simplified example, if he said "I really like oranges, the juice inside is so sweet" and I responded, "yeah, and I like the smell of the skin when you peel it, my hands smell so nice afterwards" he would say "no, I was moreso talking about the taste, not the smell, I like the taste-" and I would say "Yeah, you're right, they taste good." Just imagine that, but talking about biodiversity loss, or the war in Ukraine, or the plot of a movie we just watched, or almost anything really. This is often the pattern.

He just seems to want to talk at me, and for me to be his fawning and affirming audience, who occasionally asks probing questions, but doesn't expect equal talk time. I just want him to engage with the things that I say, because other people seem to think I have valuable insights and perspectives. But I should expect more than that; why does he get to lead almost every conversation, that if try and take on a tangent, he swiftly course-corrects me back to *his* point? Even if I started the conversation, he will go on a tangent, and then get annoyed if I do the same to him, and bring it back to my point, which he both interrupted me in the middle of and didn't really engage with?

And that's not to mention the fact that he talks over everything we watch. I am not exaggerating when I say everything. I pause it when he starts speaking, but he literally won't allow a YouTube video to play for 15 whole seconds before he launches on a 10-minute monologue on what he thinks the video will be about, his speculations on the causes or themes, and to generally knowledge dump anything he knows that could be tangentially related to the video title. It often takes somewhere between half an hour to an hour to watch a 15-minute YouTube video with him in the room, because I have to pause it every time he wants to say something. Which is very often. "Maybe if you didn't pause it, he wouldn't talk for so long?" Ha! I learned early on that he will just talk nonstop over an entire episode of a TV show, and not understand why I would want to watch that episode again (I didn't hear a single line of dialogue the whole time!).

He has expressed to me that I should put more importance on what he has to say than whatever's on TV, because he's a real person. And he's not wrong, but I wish he would respect that sometimes I want to hear the fucking video I picked because it's important to me, and whatever dumb joke about his dick he's making for the 100th time just, isn't fucking necessary or important?? And I don't think it's too much to ask to be able to watch just one 5-minute video without 7 interruptions, which I barely even get to participate in, it's literally just him talking by himself.

I express on a regular basis that I just. Cannot. Hear two things at once. If you talk over loud music I cannot hear you. If you talk over the show I cannot hear you or the show, I just get overstimulated. And he does not listen or take this into account, even gets mad at me sometimes for "not listening"! Not listening?? I can't hear you! I try my best to listen to you every waking moment we are together!

A few months ago he told me that I do 95% of the talking in our relationship. I laughed out loud, this man has NO IDEA how long he goes on for. Already today (it's not even noon yet) the TV WENT TO SLEEP during a paused YouTube video because he was monologuing; the TV only goes to sleep after 20 minutes of no activity. So that means he went on for more than 20 minutes by himself. I mean, I know he talks a lot, but it also helped that we had a roommate for a year that confirmed for me that he really does 90% of the talking in our relationship; they are good friends but even she called him a "very talky boy" and would even interject if we were all talking and he interrupted me, cause she noticed he doesn't often let me finish my thoughts.

He's spending more and more time on his days off in the office, while I'm in the living room. I feel like he gets the vibe that I'm annoyed with him and want quiet. And... It's not all bad, honestly. I like having silence in the morning, I like it being quiet enough to read. When I picture my ideal life it includes a quiet morning with coffee and a book, not a morning where I come out to the TV blasting a UFC fight while my partner excitedly details the entire plot of a shonin anime he just watched this morning, which I can barely hear or make sense of because of aforementioned loud fucking TV. But it's not like he needs me to respond anyway, just say "that's cool babe, sounds like a good show" while I try and stifle an internal scream from already being overstimulated before I've even made coffee yet.

This is going on for a lot longer than anticipated, but I guess I have a lot of thoughts I haven't expressed.

I don't know if I should expect him to change. He seems to have the vague idea of wanting to make more money in the future, but no real plans of how to do that. He seems... Fine where we are, which I am envious of and frustrated with. Like, is life really just working, smoking weed, and playing video games? In our shitty, dirty little apartment? Which i try and clean regularly, often fail at, but don't get much help with beyond him doing the dishes 2-3 times per week?

He doesn't fix things. I try to, again often failing at it, but at least I try. If the trash bag falls into the trash can, he doesn't fix it, he just continues throwing trash in there. If a light bulb goes out he doesn't call the landlord or get a new bulb, he just deals with darkness. Our washing machine has been broken for 2 years now, and he says he can fix it but won't attempt to, and every time I bring up calling someone to repair or replace it he says we can't afford that. Yeah, we can't afford that $150 repair when you just dropped $600 on cool new computer stuff (even though the old monitor, keyboard, headphones, etc all worked fine).

Why would I expect him to be able to contribute to the farm we want to have together if he won't do basic stuff like that? I need a partner who can contribute as much as I do. Right now I am going to school and work 6 days a week, he works 3 or 4 days a week, and still does less regular cleaning and chores than I do. Of course if I brought it up he would say he does ALL the cleaning and I never do ANY. So I don't even start that conversation, there's no point, he gets way too defensive, often defaulting to the whole "well I guess I'm a terrible person and a failure of a boyfriend" routine, which I hate.

Anyway, I'm going to get up and clean and organize the kitchen. I don't know if we have a future together but I am going to focus on myself, and the things I can do to start working towards my ideal life, whatever exactly that is.

#personal #diary

[eristic-kaleidoscope]

The Disappearance of | KOKONE / Eiri | Trial 4.4 | RE: Kenshin, Accusations

Everyone’s honing in on them. Regardless of how she argues, everyone else is just coming to the same conclusion, it has to be END, Kenshin, or herself, and even then, END’s being considered the least likely option.

It’s just between her and Kenshin, her and the person who, as others have pointed out, would defend her from anything. The one so stupidly self-sacrificial that he’d more than willingly throw himself head on into danger just to keep her safe, no matter how much she forces him to promise not to.

The only one who has ever been on her side. Not Eiri’s, not KOKONE’s, just herself’s.

The least she can do is defend him in turn. Try to reiterate her points from before and get everyone to understand there’s no way it could be him, if anyone would even bother to listen to her desperation. She needs to at least try to keep safe the person who has done everything to help her, so much more than he’ll ever know, and so much more than she’ll ever be able to repay.

But Kenshin spoke first.

With just his tone alone she can feel her heart drop, but as she processes what he’s doing, all she can do for a moment is just stare at him wide-eyed, pain visible in those empty eyes. His reassuring smile to her doesn’t ease that spike of panic in the slightest.

“What-” She can feel her words falling apart before she can get any out, her typically monotone voice laced with pure terror. “What the hell are you saying? I-”

She can’t defend him like this, she can’t do anything like this. Eiri’s always been so useless when it came to helping people with shit that actually fucking MATTERS. No one actually believes that shit, right? No one could buy that he’d actually kill someone, especially this brutally. It doesn’t add up, they see that, right? If they don’t get that, then there’s only one thing she can do to defend him now.

“He’s lying. The key is to his apartment, but the key belongs to me. I didn’t seek him out, neither of us were even looking for each other, he just… H-he ran into me, right as I was leaving the library after the murder, he knew something was wrong, this entire time he fucking knew and instead of punishing me he just took me back to his room and tried to comfort me. Even though I just stained my hands with blood a-and guaranteed my own fucking death, he still took me back and tried to make me feel safe.”

It’s starting to feel hard to breathe, but she needs to make it clear for everyone, they need to believe her.

“Even if he became more protective, he’d still never kill. He cares too much about everyone, even cares about AION too much for this. He said it himself, he wouldn’t loop in anyone or anything, that includes AION. But Eiri would. Eiri, the pathetic, empty piece of shit would. I became docile, so I couldn’t kill? That’s complete fucking bullshit, why do you think KOKONE exists in the first place? Eiri killed because she knew that she didn’t deserve to exist. An empty fucking husk of a person who could only speak in polite agreements, who only exists to be what everyone else wants from her- and yet everyone here wanted KOKONE more. KOKONE was an annoying little bitch and yet you all somehow managed to love her more. In the memories of her I still had left, she was awful, rude, petty, and totally fucking unbearable, and yet- I wanted to be that again so fucking bad.”

Everything’s spilling out, she knows she should shut up now, but for some reason she just can’t.

“Eiri, who has no right to happiness or to say anything she feels, could only see that rude bitch in her memory, see that she was once allowed to exist as anyone other than herself, and was desperate to get that back. Eiri killed out of pure fucking selfishness to be just a little bit happy again, Kenshin’s involvement is nothing but a coincidence.”

#KOKONE #chapter4 #trial4 #submission

[romantic-reveries]

It’s so wild to me the things this is bringing up in me. I feel almost numb now, which I think is a defensive thing, but I must want this man a lot because I keep feeling wildly insecure—like, why would he like me? Why would he choose this? What if he changes his mind because I’m weird or less likable in person?

I talk too fucking much about stuff that doesn’t matter, shouldn’t he be annoyed? And he just isn’t. He isn’t getting tired of me. He’s still just as excited to talk to me and to come meet me.

It was easy at first—I would joke all the time to my grandma that he was in love with me because he seemed to want my attention so badly. If I didn’t text much, he would. It seems like he plays it cool, but every time he claims he’s not that into something, we do it and suddenly he is, because it’s me. Talking on the phone, video chatting. He said he suddenly gets why people stay on the phone even when they have nothing to talk about. He’s driving two hours to meet me and talk about where we go from here when he was adamantly against long distance before. Like I’m somehow an exception for him in multiple ways. He just… wants me. All the time, in whatever way. And I have the audacity to be insecure now?

He texts me good morning every single day, without fail. Asks how I slept. We touch base in the evening, talk more, sometimes on the phone, and say goodnight. Always.

I keep saying “if” this turns into something, and he doesn’t correct me, but once I said “when” and he said “when, huh?” and I immediately backtracked and told him I didn’t want him to think I was assuming it was a given thing. He doesn’t talk about it much at all, so I don’t know where he’s at with it. The way he responds to things sometimes makes me wonder if it’s for my benefit, because he took it so well when I said when. He said “I think we both know we want it.” I mean—yes! But it’s not like he’s saying this is for sure gonna turn into more. He’s playing it by ear, seeing how the commute is, seeing what it’s like in person, which is totally fair, and saying we both want it doesn’t mean it’ll happen.

Which is sort of what confuses me—I feel like if he was gunshy about it, he wouldn’t have teased me. Wouldn’t have said that. Wouldn’t even be coming here. The first couple times he mentioned meeting, he immediately followed it with: “but it doesn’t have to be soon!” And I couldn’t decide if he was trying to not pressure me or he didn’t want to do it soon, but I decided to just not bring it up again and he asked me randomly one day if I’d given it anymore thought, if I’d considered a when. And that made me feel like he was kind of eager.

And tonight, I was talking about how, if we get to that point in person eventually, going all the way physically isn’t something I can do right now, I need to take my time and I don’t know how much time that will be. He already knew, but for my own peace of mind, I needed to reiterate it and make sure he was fine with it. He said “we’ll work on it together”. Not “if it gets to that point we’ll xyz” or “we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it” but “we will work on it together”.

Sort of deliciously promising, that.

#personal #12.15.22

[clouds-rambles]

Here's a hurt/comfort idea:

Can I please get Kazuha with a reader who feels guilty about having an electro vision, like some part of them feels they ate somehow at fault for what happened to Kazuha's friend, and so they throw their vision away?

Hurt/comfort for the soul <3

Tomo is Kazuhas friend btw

Beidou calls you kiddo, but in a way an older woman would call someone a decade or so younger than her a kiddo. 40 y/o Beidou for clear skin

Beidou Mum figure alert

1.5k words moment

Pairings; (Romantic) Kazuha x reader, (Platonic) Beidou x reader

Warning(s); hurt/comfort, electro vision user

Keep reading under the cut!

It's been a little while since both you and Kazuha have escaped Inazuma, the two of you have been aboard Captain Beidou's ship since you met her a few weeks ago.

And this is the first time since Tomo's death that both you and Kazuha have finally been able to stop running. In the months you were in Inazuma on the run Kazuha had kept trying to get you to stay in worry that you were going to throw your whole life away. 'And miss out on the adventures you're going to have?' is how you'd always reply, and Kazuha would give you an eyeroll and a light chuckle.

What you'd do for that man honestly.

Kazuha has decided to sit in the crows nest for some silent meditation and here you are contemplating...

You brain brings up memories of every time Kazuha gives you a side glance whenever you use your vision. The vicious flinches when you let the electricity from your vision crackle loudly. The way after a fight Kazuha will take himself off to be alone, the more time he's gone usually correlates with how much you used your vision.

Those kinds of things add up in your brain, you desperately don't want him to be scared of you, nor the things you do.

And while it's true Kazuha holds the philosophy that visions are the beholders of the users ambition to pave the road to their goals... but you've seen people who have lost their visions because of the hunt decree manifest their ambition in other ways.

Surely you could do the same?

Even if it's just for Kazuha's comfort you could give up your vision. Sure, you had both witnessed Tomo's death but you can tell it hurt him in a different way than it did you.

You sigh and rub your face with your hands

"What do I do?" you sigh into your hands

"What's up kiddo?" you hear Beidou ask behind her, she gestures to the space next you and you give her a small nod. She sits beside you

"I think I want to give up my vision" you tell her looking back to her hands. Beidou chuckles a little

"Because of how Kaz reacts I presume?" she asks cocking her brow you nod

"I feel like I'm hurting him every time I use it" you reply, Beidou nods and knocks shoulders with you

"Ultimately it's your choice to throw it away or not" she tells you

"I can sense a 'but'" you interrupt looking to the captain, she laughs a little and nods once more

"Yes, I was getting to that" she jests lightly "I don't think you should do it, at least don't throw it to the bottom of the ocean" she tells you looking you in your eyes

"But I-" you go to say but Beidou interrupts by putting her hand up, she then shakes her head

"Let someone look after it, perhaps Kazuha" she offers, you tap your chin

"He'll blame himself if I make him keep hold of it, besides he's already worried enough about Tomo's vision I don't want to-" you stop yourself before burying your face in your hands

"It's a hard decision" Beidou tells you putting a comforting hand on your back "But if you truly think that it'll help..." she trails off

"Will you take it?" you ask her looking to her, Beidou averts eye contact

"That's a big responsibility for me to take..." she trails off

"Please," you plead "I've been trying to stop myself from using it while it's on my person but it just doesn't help" you tell her. Beidou sighs

"Drop it off to my office tomorrow night, okay?" she asks looking to you "I just want you to contemplate this a little more" she adds with a soft smile, you pout a little

"But I know-"

"I know you do... but I think that's best" she tells you "And if you ever want it back, even if you go three hours without it... you can have it back" she adds looking into your eyes "Okay?" she asks, you nod.

The evening and the next day seems to drag on, your vision is still strapped where you like to keep it. It's been quiet, the most exiting thing that you've done is spend about three hours meditating with Kazuha.

"I can sense that something is on your mind" Kazuha speaks up opening an eye to look at you, you open both your eyes to look at him. You shake your head

"No, nothing more than my normal musings" you lie with a soft smile, Kazuha frowns a little while he opens his other eye

"You're lying" he comments before lightly sighing "But you know I won't push you too much. But, I know what you're like with lots of thing on your mind" you shake your head at his words with a smile

"It's a little annoying that you know me so well" you tell him with a light laugh "But don't worry, it'll be all sorted out soon" you add knocking your knee with his. Kazuha shakes his head

"Well I'm here for you anyway" he says softly smiling at you, you smile back

And here you are three days later, your vision is hidden somewhere in Beidou's cabin. Beidou keeps mentioning that your vision is still thrumming with life, apparently on occasion the vision shines through the cloth that it's wrapped in.

You're not sure if Kazuha has taken notice of the absense of your vision. But you certianly have. It's odd only using your weapon, especially considering that most of your life you've had your vision on you. You keep tripping and getting slightly cornered every time you want to use the power but you can't find it. It almost makes you want to pick the vision back up, but you know inside you can't.

"I figured it out" Kazuha breaks the silence as the two of you walk back to the Alcor

"Figured what out?" you inquire "Life, the universe, and everything?" you ask in jest. Kazuha shakes his head

"No, why you've been so weird the last few days" he replies looking to you, you stop in your tracks

"Oh and that is?" you ask in a teasing tone

"You don't have your vision on you" he tells you stopping a few paces in front of you, you look to your feet "Why?" he asks. It's your turn to sigh

"I just wanted to see if I could fight without it" you lie to him, Kazuha huffs

"Lies" he tells you "You've been avoiding the conversation for three days, I'm concerned" he adds stepping towards you

"It's just, it's just complicated" you tell him crossing your arms, Kazuha matches you and crosses his own arms

"More complicated than following a known Inazuman fugitive?" he asks with a cock of his brow, you look away from him

"It's nothing Kazuha" you tell him, he sighs

"I know I said the other day that I didn't want to push you, but I'm concerned" he reiterates, you shake your head "Did something happen that I'm not aware of? Like with your vision?" he quizzes, you sigh again

"I gave it up okay" you tell him flailing your arms in the air "Because I hate seeing you in so much inner pain every time I use my vision" you add tears prickling in your eyes "There you got it out of me, okay?" you ask walking past him

"It was about me?" he asks turning as you walk past him. Kazuha frowns a little "You didn't have to-"

"But I did" you tell him quietly stopping in your tracks “It hurts so much to see you flinch whenever I use electro. I don’t want to hurt you Kazuha” you turn to him. Kazuha smiles a little 

“I’m flattered that you think about me so much” he tells you placing a hand on your shoulder “But I don’t want you to sacrifice your vision for my comfort, the fear I have will pass quicker when I realise that not all electro is bad” he adds tilting his head a little

“I just don’t like to see you hurting” you tell him looking down. Kazuha chuckles a little

“You could have come to me and we could have spoken about it” he tells you pulling you into a hug “That doesn’t matter though” he adds with a light chuckle “We can work through it all while you still hold your vision” he tells you after a few moments of silence

“Maybe...” you trail off “I’ll follow your lead for whatever makes you the most comfortable”

“Once we get back lets talk about it properly over dinner”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kazuha x reader #hurt/comfort #genshin impact kazuha #genshin kazuha #kazuha #beidou x reader #genshin impact beidou #genshin beidou #beidou

[tommyspeakycap]

Please could you write one with Grealish where you’re a Chelsea fan so refuse to wear a Villa shirt with his name on, and for bants Mount gets you a Chelsea shirt with his name and Jack gets all pouty?

omg I love this idea!! gets very smutty at the end ;) enjoy!

Villa Boy

A love for Chelsea had been something you adapted and grew to into as a young girl. Your dad was never entirely sure how to bond with his only daughter and your mother told him just to include you in what he loved. And so came your season pass with a little lanyard that still hung proudly in your childhood room right next to a shirt mounted in a glass photo frame with Frank Lampard's signature scrawled along the eight on the back.

It was actually how you met Jack in the first place, which is the only one single reason that he has for liking your club affiliation. Otherwise, it was one of the most annoying things in his world. It was often a source of teasing and taunting, you saying your team was better than his and him swaggering home and gloating for weeks when Aston Villa take a win over Chelsea. It was the bane of his life that he couldn't get you into that claret and blue. Not even to sleep in or wear around the house, you just would not dare put it on.

"I would feel my dad's shame emanate through the walls, maybe it would kill him. And then I'd lose every morsel of self respect I have, so not a chance." You'd snort, not even giving him a window for more persuasion.

His England shirt? that was fair game. You'd wear that with pride, to the shops, round the house, walking the dog and especially at his games but there was just absolutely no chance of getting you into his Villa shirt.

Though Jack may never admit it, it was one of his biggest wants. Seeing you in his England short was nothing short revolutionary - he'd said. It only made him want to see you in the Villa shirt more. That was his childhood club, getting to captain that was one of his biggest achievements and while he knew you were absolutely proud of him. You were the most proud and encouraging person in his life and there were no ifs buts or maybes in that.

But my god he knew you'd look fit in that claret and blue.

No matter how much it annoyed him, he wouldn't get you out of the darker blue home jersey of your favourite club no matter what he did. It was something he had come to accept over the course of your relationship, it was by and large fine.

Until that jersey said someone else's name across the back.

"Awh come on!" He yelps, mouth dropped open as you emerge into the kitchen with your toothbrush hanging out your mouth and only one shoe on. Jack knows you slept in because he switched off your alarm last night in hopes you'd miss the game, but Jack dropped a bowl when he tripped over the dog and woke you up anyway.

You going to the Villa v Chelsea game in a Chelsea shirt was bad enough, but now he's just clocked something that's sent his mind firing a mile a minute.

MOUNT

19

Not a fucking chance.

"Oi, you!" He calls out, throwing himself off the chair at the kitchen island, his feet fumbling over one another to get after you as quickly as possible. "What's up, Jack?" You hum innocently, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you stand in the doorway shoving on your other shoe. "Is something the matter?"

Jack gawks, opening and closing his mouth awaiting words to find his frazzled brain. "Yes!" He squeaks, a tone you'd never heard from a man before, let along your very deep voiced man. "There's no way that you're- what are you doing? Come back." He groans, his feet shuffling after you as you walk back through the house to find your car keys. "We're going to be late if you don't hurry up." You note sweetly, Jack drops his jaw. "We're not going anywhere until-"

"Hi Mason, yeah I got it. Fits like glove actually. Yeah, we're just leaving now. I'll meet you in the car park."

Jack's face was literally priceless. His agape, eye's wild, brows furrowed. A pout settles itself firmly into his lips the second he sits in the car with his arms folded over his chest like a toddler. You have to physically stifle a laugh at him as you beam the entire drive to Villa Park.

"M' gonna burn that." He states. You cast him a glance out the corner of your eye as you pull into the players parking. A snigger escapes despite your very best efforts and Jack resumes his frontward glare at the dashboard with his lips in a firm line. "Gonna win this game, burn that shirt and knock Mount flat."

You know he's not being serious about Mason. He's very fond of the player when they're on the same side. But you had become very close friends with him through the mutual love for the club he plays at and Jack absolutely despised that. He wasn't the kind to be bothered by your friends even to a moderate degree and even here he trusted you, he just fucking hated the concept of another club and another mans name over your back. It ticked him right off.

You know this very well. You knew what you were getting into the second Mason handed you that dark blue shirt. It was all fun and games really. You loved the club but you only wore the Mount shirt to get under Jack's skin. You thought it might even throw off his game a little.

The second he stormed onto the pitch and scored a goal 5 minutes into the game, you figured that might not be the case.

Every opportunity, every goal, every opening and every single tackle, Jack turned to you. He turned to you with fire in those brown eyes, sending you a cheeky wink. His passion, the very serious look etched onto his features and the way he was looking at you was fuelling a very different kind of fire in you.

Jack played the whole 90 minutes and he took Mason Mount down at every single given opportunity in a careful way that just evaded him getting a yellow card. He finished hot, sweaty and with a man of the match trophy for 2 goals and one assist with a majority of the game spent with the ball at his feet.

The 3 nil win should have been a lot more disappointing that it was, but he just looked so fucking good. The sweat stuck his hair to his temples, his muscles tight and protruding through exertion as he walks off the field after shaking every hand.

You're standing just outside the tunnel with Mason and John McGinn standing with you, talking about the match mostly. John makes a joke about you wearing that top more often, seems to be a good luck charm for Villa even if it's the opposing team. Mason scoffs and says; "More like an angry boyfriend wants to murder me charm."

That's when Jack appears and John barely gets his mouth open to greet him before Jack shoulders through the two footballers. His mouth finds your immediately. Hot, passionate, fiery and filled with his dominance.

He pulls back and grabs onto your hand tightly with his back to the two midfielders. Jack twists his body round with a daggering glare.

"Nobody," Jack growls, "fucks around with girl."

His tone, deep and gravelly, only serves to dampen your panties further in a way that makes your clench your legs together.

Jack's done with pouting, the teasing can resume later. For now, he's dragging you by the hand to a darkened conference room. Hiking you up his body before setting you on the table that sits at a miraculously perfect height that places you right against his bulge.

He wastes no time whatsoever ripping down your leggings and panties, his fingers finding you immediately to swirl pressured motions around your sensitive clit. "Ahh, who's got you moaning like that baby?" He rumbles, words vibrating through your lips.

"You Jack, oh god, you!" You pant as his fingers leave you feeling empty and needy. Jack easily tugs down his shorts and pulls himself out of his boxers to line up with your entrance. His victory sex is hot always, but usually there was a dry spell after a Villa v Chelsea game, so it had never been this hot.

"And who am I?" He grunts, pushing himself into you to hear your shuddering squeak of pleasure. He lays you down over the table, hands following you under your shirt to carefully and tentatively swirl his fingers over your nipples from under your bra. "Oh god, Jack," you move your hands to the hem of the blue shirt to lift it over your head, but Jack's hands stop them before you have the chance.

"No, no, no," he chastises with a smirk, "Want to fuck you in their colours," He continues to thrust roughly into you with each heavy breath, mouth and squeak that escapes you only spurring him on. "Want to fuck you with his name on your back, baby. Remind you who you belong to."

You shudder in pleasure with the feeling of his lips attaching to your neck, letting out a shaky, heavy breath as he snakes a hand down between you to swirl those circles around your more pleasureful spot once again. He knows the intricate details of your body better than any man ever has and he always ensures he uses it to his advantage, but nothing like today. His lips on the sweet spot of your neck, hitting and stretching you perfect between your legs with masterful work of his fingers pushing you closer and closer with each second that passed.

"Fuck , I'm so close-"

"Who's making you feel so good, baby?" He pants, skin slapping and heavy breathing echoing around the room. "You, Jack. You!"

"Not a Chelsea boy eh?" He grunts, teeth nibbling down over your collarbone. "Not a Chelsea boy baby is it?" He reiterates, pairing the movements of his hand only until you snap open your eyes again, "No Jack, it's all you. not a- oh god!"

Jack breathes a chuckle into your ear with an appreciative hum to follow.

"Yeah, Villa Captain isn't it? You're screaming out for a Villa boy, ain't ya?" He coaxes, edging you further and further as he speeds up to a pace he's never quite hit you with before. The adrenaline of the match, the irritation of that blue jersey and the passion for the win colliding to give him an energy he's never yet had. Watching your eyes roll beneath him wearing that stupid blue entices him on, only makes him want to pleasure you more if even possible. "Yes! Yes, I am, oh god just don't stop."

"Go on then," he encourages, voice deep in your ear. "Come undone for the Villa Captain baby."

He didn't have to tell you twice, that was for sure. The sight of your eyes fluttering, the feeling of you clenching around him with a steam of, "Fuck yes Jack!" sends him tumbling over the edge of his orgasm right after you, a strangle cry out of your name as it wracks through him.

When he lays down beside you in the table that very surpassingly withstood the pace of your antics, you're both breathless and shining with sweat. Your legs feel like jelly as you still throb from the pleasure. Jack turns his head to you with a lazy smirk, brushing some hair off your forehead as you turn to look at him.

"Well, I certainly do love a Villa boy."

#jack grealish smut #jack grealish prompt #jack grealish imagines #jack grealish x reader #jack grealish imagine #england national team imagine #england national team #footballer fics #football fics #footie fics

[potter-imagines]

A Worm? - Fred Weasley

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader 

Prompt: It’s three in the morning and Fred can’t sleep. Luckily for him, his girlfriend has to most random questions on her mind. 

Notes: I've seen this on tiktok as trend to text your boyfriend so I made it into a write, hope you enjoy (: 

Warnings: None (:        (making out if that counts ???)

Word Count: 3.9k

You know that feeling of finally retreating to your room and crashing down on your bed after a strenuous day? Getting to snuggle into the warmth of the soft mattress and engulf your body in massive heaps of blankets, it was one of the greatest feelings in the world to Fred Weasley. Although what made it absolute perfection was the nights when his girlfriend, Y/n Y/l/n, would join him. Sleepovers were no rarity for the couple- nor for their roommates who had begrudgingly accepted the constant giggling and whispering throughout the night. Weekend sleepovers were his favorite as it meant neither of them were scrambling to get out of bed for class in the morning and he could lay with her for as long as they wanted.

Tonight was no different. Nearly every living soul occupying the lands of Hogwarts was fast asleep, lulled into a galaxy of dreams. Fred wondered if he was the only one awake at such an hour. The darkness from the nighttime sky poured into the room through the glass windows. The light casted shadows around the room making it difficult to make out the different shapes. Fred could barely make out the sleeping frame of his twin brother, George, who was tucked in his bed feet away. Similar was Lee, however his thunderous snores echoed off the walls giving confirmation that was in a deep sleep.

On Fred’s half of the room the silence was deafening. Lee’s snores had become second nature for Fred to block out and in all honesty, didn’t bother him much. Growing up in a home with eight other people, he had that keen ability to muffle out the noise around him. He had to in order to keep a piece of his sanity intact. No one in their sane mind could sit and listen to Ron and Ginny bicker for longer than five minutes before wanting to rip their hair out of their skull. In the same way, noise was comforting to Fred. Yeah, he ignored it for the most part, but it was a familiar feeling to be surrounded by loudness. It was discomforting in a way how still the world felt. Few and far between were the moments when Fred had time to himself. Now that he did, he didn’t want it.

Stealing a glance down to his chest Fred smiled at the sight. Y/n’s head was pressed against his sweatshirt covered chest and her hand was clenched around the material. Her body was cuddled close to him with a blanket draped over them. Fred watched as her stomach lightly rose and fell with every breath. He had lost track of time, not entirely sure how long he had been holding her. Seconds meshed into minutes which grew to hours. He was sure he’d been staring at the ceiling for almost three hours. His attention flipped back and forth, like the pages of a magazine. From the angle he laid, Fred wasn’t able to see if Y/n was awake like him or passed out like his roommates. In a cruel way he wanted to wake her on purpose just for the selfish purpose to hear her voice. He resisted the urge to ‘accidentally’ break her slumber.

Fred’s hand traced patterns on her back absentmindedly as his thoughts drifted like a sailboat floating along the ocean waves. The Quidditch match had taken a large toll on his muscles and all he wanted was to rest. Playing Slytherin was a sure guarantee someone would walk away with an injury- or be carried away. Although Fred knew he wasn’t injured, his arms ached with every slight move from the force he had exhilarated during the match. As much as he desired to switch positions and lay on his side, he couldn’t bring himself to disturb the girl resting in his arms. From her steady breathing he figured she had fallen asleep, that was until her head suddenly popped up from his chest causing the warmth of her head to flee his body. Her quick movement took Fred by surprise as his hand halted and his eyes fixed on the girl.  The feeling of sleepiness was fading as her large doe eyes glanced back up at him. Oddly enough, she appeared to be wide awake.

Arching a brow at her Fred looked utterly confused. If her alertness hadn’t startled him enough, her next actions would leave him mind boggled. Y/n perched herself up to a sitting position and wiggled over to place her legs over either side of Fred’s body so she sat in his lap as he laid. A childlike smile graced her lips at the small gasp of surprise from Fred. Tiredness vanished in her eyes as she tilted her head.

“Hey, Freddie?”

“Yes, angel?” He asked cautiously.

His hands reset to her waist to keep her steady as she sat. The stained glass window to the side of his bed allowed a glimpse of moonlight to create a beautiful gradient across her face. The moonlight, a glowing yellowy white, projected an ethereal glow around her. He swore he could see millions of tiny stars sprinkled along her skin, gleaming pin pricks of sparkles gleaming in her e/c eyes.

Y/n leaned forward to wrap her arms around Fred’s neck causing him to mimic her and sit up so his back was pressed to the bed frame. He grabbed the heavy cotton blanket from behind her and draped it over her shoulders. She smiled bashfully in gratitude. Peeking up to Fred, whose face was only a handful of inches from hers, she whispered,

“If I were a worm, would you still love me?”

Fred’s features scrunched in an instant at her question as he pulled back slightly. Half expecting for her to start giggling and the other half completely flabbergasted, Fred gaped at her in confusion. Yet Y/n’s face remained stoic in seriousness as she awaited his reply. He gave her a funny look, as if she’d grown an extra eye. Repeatedly his mouth fell open, then closed again as he failed to formulate a proper thought.

“I’m sorry- if you were a what?”

“A worm.” She repeated once again.

Fred forced himself to bite his tongue to hold his laughter in. As much as he wanted to chuckle at her randomness, she seemed so invested in his answer he didn’t know what to do. Fred averted his gaze to the window in search of an answer. His brain was stuck frozen, like the tracks in his mind were broken. Turning his attention once more to Y/n, Fred squinted his chocolate brown eyes as if examining her peculiarly.

“And why would you be a worm?”

Clearly annoyed by his constant string of questions Y/n let out a breathy huff as she rolled her eyes. Her hands waved up briefly, shooing his inquiry away without second thought. Shaking her head she pressed further. “Because I just am, now answer the question.”

Stillness entered the room while Fred pondered to himself. This time he didn’t hold back the teasing grin that spilled on his face.

“Well, am I worm too?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows to her suggestively. Y/n shoved his shoulder back playfully as she giggled softly. Fred always knew how to make her smile, even if the situation didn’t call for it. Even if it was three in the morning and the two of them should be flying through a dreamland of sleep.

Fred’s back leaned into the wood of the frame as he allowed his head to touch against it. Locks of ginger hair brushed against his face. Instinctively Y/n moved her hand out to skim them away from his eyes so she could see them. Fred fought a mental war against the shiver that threatened to escape his body from her gentle stroke. Shaking her head, Y/n shot down his interrogation. “No, you’re just a regular person.”

“So I would be a Muggle in love with a worm?” Fred chuckled at the bizarreness to her rules for her imaginary prompt. Although he hadn't a clue where this was heading, it was entertaining and he had every intention of paying into it, including teasing the girl a tad. There was something so adorable about the flashes of anger and frustration that snapped across her face at his procrastination to answer. Fred found it irresistible. The way her cute face knotted into uncomfortable glares and frowns while he continued to toy with her. He loved it.

Y/n sighed to herself, certainly growing exhausted then reiterated,

“No, no, you’re still you, I’m just a worm.”

“A magic worm?” His eyes widened in feign excitement while her’s narrowed. As much as she loved the childlike nature that was weaved into her boyfriend’s soul, it made it impossible at times to have a serious conversation- not that she truly considered this to be a serious conversation.

A deadpan mien was planted on her face. She turned for a moment to make sure George and Lee were still passed out. Then, she moved her head back to Fred before raising her voice a notch to ensure the message was received loud and clear.

“A worm, Fred.”

His fingers fiddled with the loose strings on her shorts as he pretended to debate his answer. Lips pursed into a thin line, Fred brought his pointer finger up to his chin and hummed.

“I mean… sure?”

Y/n’s grip around his neck loosened immediately at his answer. Her mouth skimmed the ground as genuine displeasure entered her veins. She pulled her arms back to cross them tightly against her chest. Fred’s hands found their previous position on her waist in order to keep her from falling off. She pouted over to Fred with her bottom lip poking out. She tried her absolute best to put everything she had into the over dramatic sad puppy look she had mastered. Fred only cooed at her and pinched the skin of her cheeks between his fingers lightly. Y/n grabbed his hand, pulling it away from her face with a scowl. Despite her glowering appearance, Fred felt a smug grin sneaking up.

“That isn't reassuring at all.” She said with a pointed tone.

Fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose, Fred groaned dramatically as he ran his calloused hand against his skin. Peering up to Y/n he brought his hand up to occupy the warm skin on the back of her neck. He drew his hand closer, pulling her towards him, causing their foreheads connected in a tender touch. The bottom hem of his old tee that she now used as a nighttime shirt tickled his arm as she happily leaned in. With their faces barely an inch apart, Fred lifted his hips to place a sweet, chaste kiss to her lips.

“But angel, you’re not a worm.”  

“Just pretend!” She grumbled. Although Fred smirked right at her and, in a very snarky manner, said ‘no’. Y/n clenched her jaw in annoyance at his stubbornness and just as she went to tell him again to play along, a light bulb of an idea sparked in her head.

Stealing a glance over either shoulder, Y/n checked to assure both George and Lee were still snoozing. George was practically laying off his bed in a sideways fashion while Lee was spreading starfish across the whole mattress. She swore she could see the drool dripping from his chin from across the room. Her focus swerved to Fred as she felt him adjust under her. Providing him with absolutely no leeway to her plan at all, Y/n locked her arms around Fred’s chest and shoved him down so he was forced to lay on the bed. His breath hitched as his head smacked into the fluffy pillow. The darkness obscured his view leaving him lost at the turn of events until he felt the pressure of her knees pinning his arms to his side. Just like a war attack, she ambushed him. Y/n danced her fingers at lightning speed across his chest and under his arms. Fred broke out into a booming fit of laughter at the abrupt tickle war imposed on him as he desperately fought to get her body off of his. His feet kicked wildly as he tried to free himself but she had too strong of a hold. Fred tried to hold his laughter back but it was all too much for his bdy to handle and the uncontrollable giggles wouldn’t stop.

Y/n laughed at him as she continued to tickle every inch of his upper body that he wasn’t successfully covering. His frantic squirms made it difficult for her to torture him to the best of her ability, however she put up a considerable fight until Fred managed to slip his hand out from between his waist and her knee. Once he did, Fred clamped his hand to her side and flipped the pair around so he was the one sitting on top of her. Both of their chests heaved rapidly as they attempted to catch their breath, both grinning like fools. Fred moved his body to sit in front of her as Y/n took over his previous spot. His hand still remained clenched around her side to keep her from attacking once more. Struggling to regain his composure, Fred gave the girl a teasing glare.

“Fine! Yes, I would still love you very much, even if you were a slimy little worm.”

A satisfied gleam adorned her face as she gave a small cheer. Her arms extended as a welcoming for him to enter. He bent towards her to allow her arms to be thrown around his shoulders. The hug encapsulated his body in a blanket of comfort and love from the feeling of her skin. Fred pressed his lips to her neck and just as he did, her voice broke the air.

“And you’d still give me kisses and cuddles?”

His loud sigh was audible to everyone in the room as his head fell to her chest.

“How in the bloody hell am I supposed to cuddle a freaking worm-” Before he could finish his sentence, Fred saw the look of sadness clouding over his lover’s features and stopped himself. That famous, moody pout had crept its way up and Fred fell victim like always. He reached his hand out to pick hers up from her lap and laced their fingers. Lifting her hand, his lips kissed each of her knuckles then set her hand down on his leg.

“You’re unbelievable… but yes, I would still give you kisses and cuddles. Just not in front of people-” Y/n snatched her hand away from his and threw it across her chest with an animated scoff.

“So you’d be ashamed of me?”

“I hate you so much right now, why the hell are you even asking me?”

The jokingness of the situation breezed out from the room as Y/n tensed. Fred watched her eyes flicker from over his shoulder, then up to his eyes. It was impossible to read the rambunctious ideas bouncing off the walls of her mind and Fred knew better than to speculate but rather give her the time to process. He always said that her mind ran faster than the Hogwarts Express. There was a small smile on her lips, though one he couldn’t read. The spark of glee still flashed through her yet at the same time she seemed uncertain. Her hand pushed loose strands of her hair away from her view, a nervous habit of her’s Fred had picked up on early in the relationship.

Swallowing her nerves, Y/n let her body sink into the plushness of Fred’s bed as she shrugged her shoulders.

“Just wanna make sure you’d love me no matter what.” She mumbled hushly.

Fred furrowed his eyebrows as he studied her in bewilderment. As silly as the conversation was, he could feel a tang of guilt budding in his gut from teasing her. The two had discussed some of the most random, weird topics out there and it was usually just that, a random discussion. Fred was a bit stunned there was a bubble floating around in her thoughts that there might be a time where he stops loving her, because for Fred, the idea of not loving her was simply implausible. Besides, he had fancied her since they met their first year and there was no chance Fred was willing to lose her.

“Okay, well,” Fred crawled to sit next to Y/n’s side as he went on, “I’ll entertain the thought. If you were a worm I would still love you more than any other living creature on this planet. I’d also protect you from all the birds who want to eat you for dinner.” Fred finished by placing a gentle peck to her nose. There was no sense in hiding the contagious grin

“So sweet, Freddie.” The scent of peppermint from her chapstick wafted to Fred’s nose drawing him closer in. Y/n snaked her hand to his cheek and dragged his face towards hers. Right before their lips connected, she paused for a moment. Her e/c orbs flickered to his plump lips, then in one swift motion, she closed the gap with a pucker of her lips and a collision with his. Fred had expected the kiss but was taken aback by the fire she brought to it. The sheer force of her lips caused Fred to sit up and take notice.

Y/n nudged at his side, a silent signal for him to get on top. Fred didn’t need her to ask him twice. He was quick to kick the blankets covering his legs and repositioned himself between hers. Fred leaned forward to spark the flint once again. His hands attached to her face immediately as he pulled her in tightly. This embrace nearly knocked Y/n right off the bed. She parted her lips and felt him washing over like a tsunami of passion, curling her toes, unfurling all her senses as the taste of him impaired her. Her whole body tingled, the pressure of his fram leaning on hers as his arms wrapped around her felt like an array of fireworks during the finale of a grand show. Her lips parted against his and the abrupt swipe of his tongue inside her cheeks sent a rush of shivers through her body. The intensity was overwhelming as she struggled to keep hold of his shoulders.

Y/n came to at the need for air and pulled away from Fred. A sharp breath filled her lungs as her hands pressed against his chest keeping him in place. However, Fred was growing impatient by the second and the need to be as close to her as possible was too strong of an urge for him to ignore.

Fred pulled her in, claiming her mouth again, hungry and intense, until her arms gave in and she was using his body to support herself. She was nearly slipping from the bed from the pure force of his kiss. Fred kept his free hand steady on the back of her neck to ensure she wouldn’t fall but in the moment, she really couldn’t care. Wasn’t like they hadn’t had a makeout session on the floor- come to think of it, George had walked in on them just last week.  

Their hands roamed over each other as if it was their first time touching another. His fingertips grazed the side of her neck earning a muffled moan from the girl. She tugged at his red hair, which was a guarantee to keep his adrenaline pumping. A vibration buzzed in her mouth as Fred groaned into her from the lustful pain. His body was ever moving as his hips grinded into her. This was a familiar position yet the passion was what made the kiss so electrifying. His elbows were placed on either side of her head to hold himself up as he moved his lips against hers and continued to work his tongue with hers. Y/n trailed her hand down from his fiery locks to his sharp chin where she pressed his lips as deeply into hers as she could manage.

Softly as possible, Y/n slowly pulled herself away from Fred. His eyes cracked open at the lost of warmth against his skin and he glanced down at her. Both smiled at each other until Fred rolled over and slid under the covers. He fixed the blankets around until he felt satisfied then opened his arms, as if inviting Y/n to enter. She obeyed without question and coozied herself into his arms. He wrapped her in a loving cuddle as he pressed a quick kiss to her temple.

Y/n leaned into his body, resting her head against his arm that was linked under her. There was a comforting silence that replaced the steaming air. The clock on Fred’s night stand shone bright with the time, ‘4:08am’, meaning morning had practically arrived and Fred had yet to catch a wink of sleep.

Just as Fred was preparing himself to welcome his slumber, a notion came. Propping himself up on his elbow, Fred reached out to shake the girl’s shoulder.

“Hey, Y/n?”

Y/n gleaned over to him in curiosity. Twisting her body she set her gaze directly on Fred, as if to show him she was intune and listening.

“Yes?”

“If I were a worm, would you still love me?” Fred asked in a whisper. Y/n leered up at him in a disgusted fashion. It looked as if she had been force fed a full can of lima beans and sardines. Those sleepy eyes were replaced by saucer like eyes of revulsion. Poking her tongue out she pretended to gag as her eyes twisted shut.

“Ew, no, why would I be in love with a worm? You can’t even talk and if I kissed you, I might accidentally kiss your butt, gross!” Y/n covered her mouth to mask her fit of laughter that shook through her chest. Fred’s mouth dropped in shock at her words as she unwrapped herself from his hold to shift to her side. He stared at her in astonishment as she threw her legs over the side of his bed. His hand reached out to yank her back but she was already up on her feet smirking to him.

“Are you kidding me? Get back here!”

“I need to use the bathroom- I’ll be back in a flash, wormie.” She blew him a taunting kiss and a wave, then quietly shut the door as she journeyed down the hall to the restrooms. Fred still heard her unruly laughter from behind the large wooden door. As her footsteps grew shallower, Fred tossed his head into the pillow and rolled his eyes. Just like earlier, silence overtook the room and this time, Fred was overjoyed because it meant he no longer had to hear about worms. That was at least until she got back, then he’d surely be having a discussion.

#fred weasley #Fred Weasley x reader #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley imagines #fred weasley oneshot #george weasley #Fred and George Weasley #fred and george weasley imagine #fred #fred and george imagine #Weasley twins imagine #weasley twins #weasley twins imagines #hp #hp imagines #hp imagine #harry potter #Harry Potter imagine #Harry Potter imagines #imagines #imagine #Ron Weasley #Ginny Weasley #Gryffindor

[authorkun]

[𝙎𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙡 𝙈𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙖𝙘] (001)

Jujutsu Kaisen x Male reader

Warning: Mentions of su!cide, gore, violence, and strong themes

"𝘿𝙖𝙢𝙣, 𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙩 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨."

A smooth honey like voice dripped with interest of the vessel that stood before him. The male's eyes casted down before traveling back up the first year's torso. He licked his lip at the sight with a smirk. 

"Oya? Oya? N/n-Chan where did you come from? You were supposed to be in Hyogo." A blindfolded sensei questioned. N/n, or better known as M/n sent a small wave at his underclassmen, who gaped at both his sensei and senpai with wide eyes. "Oh the other second-years would love this." M/n took out his phone and and started taking an array of photos of Megumi. 

"Anyways, I was, heard there was a SGP (special grade problem) going on. Thought I'd check it out. You too?" He lazily draped himself against the older. "The elders complained about putting my abilities to good use." Gojo chuckled remembering the annoying email from the secretary. "Anyways, who's this?" "Yuji Itadori sir!" The pinkette quickly bowed. A hearty laugh bubbled in M/n's throat at the formal honorific.  "Get up no need for that, cause a nice senpai like me cares for underclassman." The male proudly pointed to himself. 

 "M/n L/n. Say where is the cursed object anyways?" Itadori sweat dropped. "Well I ate it." "Damn the kid has balls." M/n bluntly stated making a certain raven haired sorcerer flustered at the vulgar statement. "So how's Sukuna, or whatever his face is?" The (e/c) orbs analyzed Itadori looking for any sign of the curse. "He's annoying, he keeps on talking." Tapping his head with his palm signaling the telepathic link. "10 seconds." 

"Huh?" "Come on back after 10 seconds." Gojo reiterated. "I dunno about this." "Don't worry I'm the strongest." M/n playfully rolling his eyes. "And if it gets out of hand, I'm stronger." "Megumi, hold onto this will ya." Gojo tossed a paper bag towards him. "Can you also hold onto this? It's killing my back." The second-year threw a heavy duffel bag Fushiguro's way, almost knocking him out. "What's this?" Megumi's eyes lingered on the white bag. "Kikufuku Mochi." His eyebrow twitched at the information. 'He was buying souvenirs, while people were dying?!'

"Aww Megumi they're not souvenirs. They're for the bullet train back." Sukuna was suddenly in the air about to pounce on the 'unsuspecting' male. "Behind you!" Fushiguro yelled worriedly. Gojo dodged getting close to the curse's ear. "Two of my students are watching so, I hope you don't mind me showing off." He turned sending a blow towards Sukuna's back, making him stumble. 'He's unbelievably fast. Not only that-.'  

"It doesn't matter what era it is, you guys are always a pain you stupid Jujutsu sorcerer! He dryly laughed. "But that doesn't matter to me." With a flick of his wrist chunks of concrete flew towards Gojo. Who when the dust cleared stood unscathed holding the rubble as nothing. "Should be about time." M/n clicked his tongue, while filing his nails next to Fushiguro. The markings on Itadori's body disappearing. "What a surprise! You can control it!" He yelled. "He's kind of annoying though." Itadori repeated. 

"It's a miracle that's the only side effect." With that, the older tapped his head knocking the first-year out. "Aww booooo I was looking forward to annoying Sasuki more." The M/n whined like a toddler throwing away his file. "What did you do?" Fushiguro asked ignoring his senpai. "He's knocked out." Gojo stated holding onto the passed out male. "I though you were smarter then that Megumiii." The two once again ignored the manic (h/c-ette). "If he wakes up and isn't possessed...he might have potential as a vessel." He reasoned. "Quick question what do I do with him?" M/n sweat dropped. "Even if he has potential, under Jujutsu regulations he must be executed..." He drawled off. "But I don't want to let him die!" Fushiguro finished with a determined look.  

"Is that a personal opinion?" M/n playfully teased. "Yes, a personal opinion. Please do something about it." "Hmm a precious student's request." Gojo scratched his chin in 'thought'. "Leave it to me, and your senpai!" He exclaimed. "So with that, let me reiterate...you're gonna be executed." The blindfolded teacher waved his hands around in finger guns. "This story doesn't make sense so far." Itadori grumbled. "Hey, Man, I tried. An execution is an execution, but I managed to suspend the sentencing."

"A suspended sentencing? So it's on hold now?" The pinkette questioned. "Yup. Let me explain from the top." Gojo went to grab something out of his pocket realizing it was gone. "Looking for this?" M/n's form came out of the shadows, holding up the shriveled appendage. "This look familiar?" Itadori raised a brow. "Another finger?" "Ding ding ding. You want a cookie or something?" M/n leaned on his sensei's shoulder aggravating him even more. "Its the same cursed object you so voluntarily consumed. There's 20 total, we're in possession of six." "Twenty? Oh, including both arms and legs." Nodding his head in understanding. "Wrong, Sukuna has four arms." M/n stated nonchalantly tossing the finger up for Gojo to blast towards the wall creating a small crater like hole. The finger looked unscathed. "As you can see, you can't destroy it. It's that powerful of a curse.

With every passing day it gets even stronger." The (h/c-ette) moved from his place wandering behind Itadori, the hot breath on his neck made himself shutter. "That's where you come in. You die, the curse in you dies as well." M/n moved back rocking back on his heels. "The Elders have a stick up their ass and wanted to kill you right away. My dear Gojo and I thought it be a waste for a pretty face like you to offed yet." 

A small pink flush dusted against Itadori's cheeks. "There's no guarantee that another vessel able of controlling of Sukuna will ever come around again. So... our proposal was, "if we're gonna kill him, why not after he takes in the rest of Sukuna". Killing two birds with one stone really. Your two choices right now are either to die now or wait to find the rest of Sukuna and die then." An intimidating aura surrounding M/n. 

The next day

"Who died?" M/n asked picking at his nails, feeling oddly uncomfortable around the place heavy with death and sadness. "My Grandpa,he was more of a dad I guess though." Itadori hung his head. "I see, sorry to bother you at a time like this." Gojo apologized sitting himself next to the male. "Are there a lot of casualties with curses like this?"

"This is a pretty uncommon circumstance...But if you're talking about potential damage, yes." In the corner of Gojo's eyes he could see M/n's hand start to tremor. "...Let's just say, you're lucky to die normally after an encounter with a curse. Finding a body torn in two is still a light death compared to the others..." M/n stare burned into the bench a few feet in front of them. Walking off as flashes of blood painting the walls continued replaying in his head. "What's wrong with him?" Itadori asked looking off towards where the male went off to. "Not many things are known about M/n. Supposedly during a special grade case, they had found a witness around the age of 7 standing in the middle of what was assumed his family. The report was hard to read not much about the kid except the crazed look in his eyes and the astronomical amounts of cursed energy spilling from his body. 

The case was left unfinished because they couldn't understand what exactly happened. The one account from the boy saying that it was a monster who killed his family. Of course when they checked there wasn't a sign of a curse. The elders shut the case down and took in the kid in, fear of his powers haunting them. From what I know, he was taught by the principal himself how to control his cursed abilities. When I was in my last year, I heard about an incident including the boy with a special grade. It had changed him from an outgoing and friendly person to a husk of one. He distanced himself and gained the liking of inducing pain on himself. He's strange that's for sure." A vision of a preteen M/n slitting his arms for an 'experiment'. 

He claimed the experiment was to figure out how many cuts he could endure before passing out. Itadori stared at the older with an opened mouth. An image of the bandaged male popped into his head. 'Bandages'. "When I saw him pass in the hallways smiling like no tomorrow, made me think if the incident had never happened to him..." 

"...He would have a normal life" he finished the other's sentence. "But that kind of thinking is common when you first get into the game. You learn how to ignore those thoughts. Those thoughts alone could drive a man insane. If you start investigating the remains of Sukuna, you'd probably some gruesome scenes, every sorcerer has their case that changes them wether it be for the best or the worst. Pick your hell." 

"If Sukuna is eliminated, will there be fewer people killed by curses?" Itadori's grandpa's words rung in his head. "Of course." Gojo nodded his head. "You got that other finger?" "Yeah." Gojo placed the object in his hand. Itadori took a second to study it. "Now that I look at it it is pretty disgusting." He said tossing the appendage into his mouth absent mindedly swallowing it with a gross gulp. 'That's one tenth of Sukuna, how will that sit?' Black marks appeared on his body before leaving as quickly as they came. "Blaughhh, that was so gross." The male wrapped a hand around his throat at the taste. 'He's able to control Sukuna without a problem, heh.' Gojo thought. "I take it you're prepared for what's to come?" "Not at all. I am wondering why I have to be executed though. But I know I can't leave this curse alone. It's final, I'm gonna eat the rest of Sukuna. That's all"

"Yahooo! I'm back!" An overly enthusiastic voice emerged. M/n ran over waving his hands around.  A bag slung around his shoulders. Something seemed off. An evident bruise starting to form around his neck peeking out from the loosely wrapped bandages.  A cut lip and a few more scrapes littering his face. "What happened?" M/n shrugged still smiling. "Just a fight, this delinquent looking guy said he had a bone to pick with me, he had his fun....and so did I~" He took out his phone, shoving it into both of their faces. Sure enough a buff looking male was in tears, tied up. "The old wasabi and mustard up the nose always works like a charm." M/n shoved the device back into his coat, before handing the paper bag over to Gojo who quirked his brow. 

"I went on a little trip into town and got you this~" The male's hands roamed around the bag pulling out a box. "I saw this delectable Mochi stand and turns out their family were from Sendai. What's the chance they made kikufuku? I got them for free since the owner was an old friend. Told 'em it was a gift for someone special." He winked at the end. Sukuna lowly growled barely loud enough for Itadori to hear. 'What's your problem?' 'Shut it brat.' Sukuna coldly snapped. 

"This is why you're my favorite second-year." Gojo chuckled as if he were a grade school girl. "Looks like it's shaping up to be a fun hell. Get your belongings together by the end of the day." He turned towards Itadori, Megumi now standing behind him. "We goin' somewhere?" "Tokyo." Fushiguro answered with a battered face. "Ah! My little Meg-Chan is back!" M/n attacked the poor male in a tackle like hug. Snuggling his face further into the first-year's chest. A red hue danced acrossed the ravenette's face, as Gojo secretly took pictures. 

Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical School The walk to the school was quiet, the only noise being the light chatter being shared between the two with occasional comments from M/n, who's interest was glued to a small book in his hands.  The quietness of the curse had caught Itadori off guard, causing questions to form about his weird behavior. Sukuna seemed to keep his gaze fixed onto the object held by the other. 'The book he's holding..' Itadori's eyes flickered over to the small piece of literature questioning it's importance. "What are you reading?" 

"Just an old book I'm rereading." The male had answered turning to the next page. "If you have already read it why are you reading it again?" His curiosity had gotten the better of him. "A good book never gets old no matter how many times you read it." What confused Itadori, is why Sukuna was so fixated on the older. A soft thud sounded out as M/n closed the book, placing it back into his pocket. "Anyways, you're about to have an interview with the principal." "The principal?!" He exclaimed confused. 

 "There's a high probability he could reject you so make sure you go all out." M/n said once again picking at his nails in amusement. "What then! Immediate execution?" He snapped making the former quirk a brow at his statement. A small mouth formed onto his cheek. 

"So you're not the boss? Pathetic, a hierarchy that isn't based off of strength is worthless." Itadori slapped a hand over his cheek, keeping Sukuna from further speaking. "I'm sorry about him, he pops out." "You have quite the amusing body now." M/n cheekily said. Another small mouth popped out, this time located on his hand. "I owe you a favor you know."

"Not again!" 

"Once I make this brat's body my own, you'll be the first one I kill. The male next to you will once again be my king when I take my crown back." M/n crossed his arms in confusion. 

"It's an honor to be targeted by Sukuna himself, but what do you mean 'your king once again'? 

"Have you ever wondered what caused the incident ten years ago? And why the Elders were so keen on raising him?" The mouth disappeared leaving both Gojo and M/n astounded at the new information.

 'How does Sukuna know about that, and why did the elders drop the case as if it were nothing.' "You wouldn't do that would you senpai?" A hopeful smile painted on Itadori's face. "...." The words couldn't form as M/n stood wide-eyed at the curse's words.

  'I wouldn't, would I?...'

Next

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