#but i recognize that’s me being petty so i’m like whatever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jinkicake · 1 year

Note

Will you write jealousy hcs for Connie, jean, Eren, and armin (either they’re jealous or reader is jealous?)

Armin, Connie, Eren, Jean, Reiner x Reader

A/N: Of course!!!! Let me know if you’d like me to write more for this!!! I love jealousy shit! I’m sorry but I also had to include Reiner like..... I just had to. This is also a good part of a zodiac ramble, sorry.

WC - 2.1k

~~~

Armin Arlert

Let’s get one thing clear, Armin is a scorpio (!!!A WATER SIGN!!!). He needs to have you all to himself like he has to be your priority……

Armin is highly sensitive when it comes to his emotions and will get jealous very easily. He won’t show how he is feeling or act on it right away since he does have a level head on his shoulders but, he’ll 100% be feeling it.

He can get jealous of anyone and everyone, he hates the idea of anyone but him being close to you. In a normal way (and possessive fun way heheh), Armin is very protective and will always have a watchful eye on you. It doesn’t matter if he is in a conversation with someone else or he’s working on something important, if you’re near him then he will immediately be distracted. Little glances will be thrown your way while he writes in his notebook or he might just move to sit next to you entirely.

In the heat of the moment (when he is feeling his jealousy at its worst), he’ll act calm and unbothered but that can’t be further from the truth!!! Deep down, he’s fucking furious ((not at you -obvi- but the person approaching you)). In almost little time at all, he’ll find a way to remove you from whatever situation you’re in.

Armin would even get jealous of Mikasa or Eren, not in a romantic way but in a you’re spending way too much time with your friends and he needs your attention way! He gets jealous soooooo easily and will turn into a big pouty mess because of it. Like yeah, he’s so fucking pissed that he’ll also need tons of affection fron you to soothe the ache he’s feeling kekekeke

On the other handddddd,,, when you get jealous,, Armin gets really nervous…. and anxious?

Like he wants nothing more than to fix the reason why you are feeling jealous. He’d hate to know that he made you feel that way,,,,

If it’s someone giving him too much attention, he puts a proper amount of distance between him and them. If his work has taken too much time away from you, he’ll set distinct time slots where he will spend with you.

Armin is very sweet, a gentle boyfriend so he’ll be sure to make it up to you whenever you get all green and filled with envy!!

But also,,,,, there’s a part inside of him that swells up with pride at how possessive you are over him heheheh Scorpios love loyal s/os!!!!

Connie Springer

Connie,,,, fav bald-headed dumbass, is a male Taurus (and coming from one taurus, a male taurus is the reddest of flags that there is). He’s very stubborn and very perceptive about how he is feeling as soon as he feels it. Connie might pretend to laugh something off or act as if he doesn’t care about it but, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

He doesn’t allow himself to get jealous. It’s almost like in his own stubbornness, he will push his feelings down because then he thinks he won’t have to deal with them. That method never works and he’s usually left with his stupid frustrations and sometimes gives you the cold shoulder while trying to figure out what to do with them.

It’s like.. Connie is very clingy (not in a negative way!), and he enjoys being around you and hanging out with you. The two of you are always doing chores together and enjoying each other’s company. However, there will be a point when you start to recognize his clinginess as a sign of his jealousy. This can be seen when he doesn’t part from you ever even when you two have two different things that you each need to be doing. The moment he pulls away from this clinginess is when you have a problem!

As soon as the clingiest ends then comes the ignoring!!! It can be extremely difficult to deal with a petty!Connie but, as long as you keep a clear head and calmly ask him what is wrong and get to the bottom of his hurt feelings then it ends quickly.

It’s best to get this feeling of anger out of the way quickly because when taurus become hurt, they will always remember that pain!

Okay…. But when you get jealous, Connie thinks it is the funniest thing in the world. Not because you are upset or uncomfortable but because he can’t understand why you are feeling jealous, like, does he not prove time and time again his unconditional love for you?

He always spends his free time with you and makes sure to keep your needs and desires first in his mind. Your jealousy truly comes as a shock to him and, he might just laugh when you let him know how you feel.

Howeverrrrr, he will very quickly apologize and make you feel better when he finds out how hurt you’ve been feeling. Taurus are very attentive and when a male taurus cares, he will make sure that you feel you’re very best.

Despite being a red flag, Connie is the greenest red flag ive ever seen!

Eren Jaeger

Oh…. Eren….. He’s fucking crazy. This man is literally a male Aries like…… be careful. Despite being driven and courageous, he’s also extremely desperate and lashes out when pushed to the edge. It’s very easy to tell when he is jealous since it happens so often.

His type of jealousy is one that needs to be matched with patience. You have such a strong hold over him, unmatchable power, that he can’t fight no matter how hard he tries. He can’t help but want to make sure he’s the only significant factor in your life and he will monopolize all your time to ensure this (what a possessive thing).

Howeverrrrrr don’t worryyyy, it is a good thing that Eren gets jealous because that means he really loves youuuuu~ And his intentions are relatively pure, okay?

There are times when he can be nonchalant, when Eren can swallow his bitter jealousy and just ignore you until it goes away. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t go away. If you get upset with him over this petty conflict, he’ll quickly come to his senses and beg for your forgiveness and attention. It’s like he’s all tough until he realizes that he’s made you upset LOL

Eren can be very sweet and genuine, you’ll never have to guess with him since he can be so easy to read (as long as you know him well), and he’ll always fiercely protect you no matter what. It’ll be easy to rest knowing you’re his first priority.

UGH, but the other way around though…. When you get jealous, it sends his pride and ego through the roof like he will get so cocky and hideous (so hot) about it.

Yes, it makes him feel good knowing that you’re getting protective of him and he finds it hot. Eren is a relatively simple creature, what can I say?

He’ll make sure to ease your jealousy, after he’s gotten a proper amount of it, and he doesn’t half-ass this either!!! In his own way, he’ll tease you and poke you just enough that you get mad but nothing too extreme. The second he notices that you’re starting to feel uncomfortable, he stops and grabs you in his arms.

Your jealousy made him feel good and now, in return, he’s going to kiss your ass (literally).

If you ever feel like shit from getting jealous, just know that feeling won’t last long because Eren will most definitely make it up to you.

Jean Kirstein

Jean is much like Eren, given that they’re both Aries. He’s hardworking and extremely caring but, also short-tempered. Fighting with someone explosive and stubborn like Jean is like lighting a match in the middle of an oil spill,, everything will go to shit quickly. It’s not like he wants to lash out at you or fight with you (because really, it’s the last thing he wants) but jealousy is such a wretched feeling and Jean has a very hard time controlling it.

Yes, he gets jealous very easily and it is also very easy to tell when he is jealous. Jean gets loud and expressive, making sure that his voice booms so that you can hear him. If your attention isn’t on him then he will very quickly make it so that it is.

Jean naturally gets jealous of anything but, can you blame him? He’s dramatic, he wants to be the center of your world! He will not stand another person giving you attention, it just rubs him the wrong way. Still, most of the time, Jean can ignore his jealousy and subdue it just long enough to get himself away from whoever is pissing him off.

It’s very easy to combat his jealousy, just as easy as it is for him to get jealous. Just give the fire sign attention, that’s it. A little extra affection always does the trick hehe.

If you just stroke his arm and play with his hair for half of a second, Jean is instantly recovered and puffing his chest in the air like he wasn’t even jealous before. He’s a sweet thing, really,,,,

Oh… when you get jealous, it’s kind of a problem. Aries men are creatures of habit, they can do one thing or another while you can’t do either of the things….

If you’re jealous about something, there’s a good chance that Jean (if he’s swept up in the attention enough) won’t notice. You’ll have to confront him with your feelings and even then, he might just brush you off.

Only if he can really see the hurt on your face or just how insecure you are feeling (which he can do easily since he kisses the ground you walk on) then he will stop exactly what he is doing.

Like if he’s surrounded by cadets all gushing over him, he’s going to have a hard time pushing them away BUT, if he knows you are feeling jealous then he will shove them away with ease.

At the end of the day, your happiness is most important to him!! Always!

Reiner Braun

Reiner…. My sweet psychopath…. Is a Leo male, do I need to say anything more about this? (no? I don’t think I do?)

His jealousy can be a bit tedious since he tries his hardest to submerge the feeling but ends up getting choked by it. He doesn’t mean to, but, he might take the frustrations from his jealousy out on you. Not in any harsh way but, he might just ignore you and push you away just to make you push him back and fight him to prove how much you care about him…. Reiner is difficult, we all know this.

Given, not just his sign, but his entire history and background, it is no surprise that Reiner is so protective of you. He cherishes you and loves you incredibly hard.

He might not be the easiest to read but when he gets jealous it’s kinda in your face... He’ll hover around you, mildly snooping, as he asks you questions about what you’re doing or who you’re going to be with. Oh! You’re on the phone? Who are you talking to? Why do you have to talk to Eren? Reiner does this in such a smooth way that it comes across as him being curious (which he is) but, you can also see the twitch in his fingers at someone else having your attention.

Luckily, his open wounds are easy to fix. A little reassurance goes a long way and can prevent a really big explosion of emotions. Stroke his ego a bit (and other places if you’d like) and let him know how much you adore him and love him,,,, Reiner really needs it-

Unlike the rest of these fools, despite being a fire sign, I can’t see Reiner entertaining your jealousy. If this man knows you are feeling upset and insecure, he will fix this the second he realizes it.

Any doubt that you have, any fear lingering in your mind, will be squashed by his love and affection. There’s literally nothing Reiner can’t talk you out of, he always makes you feel content in your relationships.

His favorite thing is to just hold you. When his words don’t work, he will always rely on his touch to make you melt into his arms. He’s so sweet when he’s not trying to k!ll everyone, ugh-

You’ll rarely get jealous with Reiner because he doesn’t ever do anything to make you jealous. He’ll never test your feelings or get too close to another person because you’re the only one for him.

#armin arlert x reader #connie springer x reader #eren jaeger x reader #jean kirstein x reader #reiner braun x reader #aot x reader #armin x you #connie x you #eren x you #jean x you #reiner x you #aot x y/n #aot x you #aot x gn!reader #i got sleepy halfway while editing this so..... i hope it is alright #word vomit... zodiac vomit...

652 notes · View notes

antimonyandthyme · 27 days

Text

1k; alex/logan; after the australian gp

His phone was clinking incessantly. Very determinedly. Logan dredged up determination in equal counterforce to ignore it.

“Whoever it is,” Alex said, “is being clingier than cling wrap.”

“Not your best,” Logan said.

“Whatever. Why don’t you answer it?”

“It’s probably just Oscar.”

That got him an Oh? Alex shifted, groaning, stretching his arms out in a way that was not meant to be sexy at all, but somehow still painfully was. Logan stared down at the wrinkled sheets instead. He was shaky all over, but kept himself still. “What does he want?”

“To check on me, probably.”

“Good friend,” Alex said. His tone landed somewhere in the middle of a chromatic scale, careful, but not too wary, interested, but not too concerned.

I don’t know about you and George, but me and Oscar, we get along just—

It was too early to be this petty. “Yeah,” he said, and left it at that.

Except Alex had a bone to chew. His not-quite smile was sharp, his eyes a little too assessing. Logan supposed the morning-after spiral presented itself differently in everybody.

“What will you tell him?”

“That I spent the night fucking my teammate,” Logan said.

Alex pulled back, like that scalded. Okay, ouch.

Logan sighed. Oscar always said there was no point wielding a knife if he was going to feel bad about it, less than a second after. It was a habit he couldn’t rid himself of.

“Of course I’m not saying that. Just—that I’m sleeping in. Or something else believable. I’m not an idiot.”

“Didn’t say you were.” Alex ran his fingers through his hair, which barely served to dissuade any unruliness. He looked so rumpled it was almost endearing. Logan had the maddening urge to smooth him down, act as sandpaper to Alex’s edges. “Sorry. I’m not being. I’m not—”

“You’re being an ass,” Logan said flatly. “Can you have your freakout later? After we’ve showered, at least?”

Of all things. Alex’s smile softened, turned a little more real. “So you admit it.”

“Admit what.”

“You are mad at me.”

I’m not mad, Logan had said last night, when Alex showed up with a bottle of conciliatory wine and a hand rubbing the back of his neck, so unusually uncertain of himself that Logan felt the inane need to comfort him. Alex, I promise I’m not. Here, to prove how not mad I am, let’s finish this bottle together. See?

“I’m—” He shut his mouth. There were very few pretenses here. Eyes red-rimmed and bodies tender in the most intimate of places, sheets still faintly damp. “I’m being childish.”

“You’re not being childish,” Alex said shortly. “Something got taken away from you, and for what?”

Logan shrugged. It wasn’t Alex’s fault, that much was certain. But the taste on his tongue soured past morning staleness when he thought of James. “It was for the team.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Get out of here with that bullshit.”

“I should have crashed my car, like Max suggested.”

“That’s more like it.” Even the flyaway strands in Alex’s hair appeared delighted now. “Let it all out.”

The corners of Logan’s mouth twitched up. “What are you trying to encourage? Our own multi two-one?”

Alex scoffed. “When Williams makes better cars, maybe.”

It sounded impossible, even as people who had the patience to recognize dreams took what felt like eons to manifest. And anyway, Alex wasn’t the person he’d endure a silver war with. Logan’s phone was still making glass-shattering noises.

“You should reply.” Alex relaxed back into bed. They were both equally grateful for the distraction from their futures’ uncertainties. “Way it sounds, he’s about to have a conniption.”

Logan could picture it, Oscar’s not-anxious-anxious face, the line of his mouth flattening impossibly further the longer it took to get a response.

sorry, shit signal last night

Mate, the response was instant and borderline angry. Where are you?

in bed

Not technically a lie.

hungover

Ok, Oscar said. You good?

Was he? Alex was looking at him, expression threaded with amusement and an understanding reserved for teammates who only knew how to take things from each other. The night could’ve been worse spent. Alex’s mouth, hot against his, and his calloused hand, rough against his sensitive, greedy cock, was welcome enough to push James’ sympathetic face out of his head for a decent enough time.

i’m good. thanks. appreciate you asking osc

“You’re awfully polite for an American.”

“Fuck off,” Logan said.

There was another unopened text that surely Alex had caught a glimpse of as well. Logan tossed the phone aside. His lips found the underside of Alex’s jaw. Alex’s groan was exceedingly nice to listen to. The stutter in his hips, the surprised gasp he released, as Logan worked his way downward, was even more rewarding.

Later, showering—

“I’ll say no, the next time.”

Alex was playing with the suds in Logan’s hair, making snowmen that stuck out like lumpy marshmallows. The shower in the hotel room, like all showers in hotel rooms tend to be, had misty glass enclosure walls. Logan checked their reflections out in the mirror. They looked presentable, pressed up against each other. Friendly, like all good teammates should be.

“Good, good,” Alex said absently. He continued massaging Logan’s hair.

There was a small flicker of irritation. “I’m being serious.”

“I know you are,” Alex said. He smoothed the shampoo down, palm slick and comfortable, then scratched his fingers gently against Logan’s scalp. “You’re allowed, of course. To say no.”

You’re allowed, Logan heard in the silence that followed, to see where that takes you.

Coming from Alex, it didn’t sound that patronizing. More generous, really. Encouraging. Maybe they would have their own multi two-one, after all.

The text: Logan, I’d like to discuss some things with you today, if you have time.

Impossible, aggravating. James hardly needed to ask for Logan’s time. It was already his.

Logan leaned his head back, snug against Alex’s collarbone. The spray was pleasant, going around his eyes, courtesy of the shield Alex’s back provided. It was warm.

He thought about what to say.

#athy texts #fanfic #rpf #alex/logan

53 notes · View notes

cecenyss · 9 months

Text

~spoilers below~

Okay so the Heian Period that Sukuna lived lasted from 794 to 1185. Getting rid of the time after 1018 because that no longer qualifies as 1000 years ago and I’m petty like that means that the time when he lived at some point between 800 and 1018, so probably ninth or tenth century.

That still leaves two hundred years of time for him to have lived, and this is under the assumption that he even lived a human lifespan, which he absolutely might not have considering he had four arms for some unexplained reason (seriously he was a human being before dying right? I didn’t imagine that?).

The Fujiwara family was clearly important, though it’s hard to say whether that’s a new, sorcerer thing made up by Gege Akutami or if it’s actually meant to represent the Fujiwara clan of actual Heian Period Japan. Honestly it could be either but I’m fairly certain it is meant to be the same because otherwise that’s just confusing and I choose to believe this universe makes sense on some level for my own sanity.

We know the Fujiwara clan battled with Sukuna in some way because in chapter 219 in that flashback with Yorozu the gossiping people said that he defeated two major elite warriors of that clan’s northern forces, the one that Uro led and the one that Yorozu defeated and later got “recognized” and moved to the capital for.

Now I did some basic googling and the Fujiwara clan was founded in the year 668, but the Northern Fujiwara were founded in 1087 and disbanded in 1189, which completely discredits what I said in the first paragraph. Great going, me.

Sukuna is well established at this point, meaning he’s been doing… whatever conquering evil curse users do, for a while. Unfortunately we can’t use his appearance to learn literally anything because again he has four arms so he very well might not age.

Anyway in keeping with the Heian period and the founding year of the Northern Fujiwara he had to have been active between 1087 and 1185, which is just under a full century of wiggle room for him to do all his evil Sukuna things.

I don’t know if there’s any other evidence that could help narrow things down because this is a spur-of-the-moment, research rabbit hole type thing I decided to document on tumblr as I went along for no particular reason, but other individuals I know for a fact were alive at this point were Kenjaku, who Sukuna clearly knew; Tengen, who Kenjaku clearly knew; Uro, who led the elite force Sukuna destroyed; Yorozu, who was obsessed with and wanted to marry him; and Uraume, who served him.

Tengen and Kenjaku could very well be older than him, but Yorozu and Uro definitely are not, as they were mortal when they died. Uraume could go either way.

I did some other rabbit hole research and found that the Gojo clan was an actual clan that split off from the Sugawara clan, which was founded by Sugawara no Michizane, who Gojo says is the ancestor of him and Yuta.

If we assume that this is meant to be the Gojo clan of jujutsu kaisen, which isn’t an assumption I’m quite as comfortable making as other assumptions I’ve made here, it was founded some point in the 13th century, though I can’t really find the correct date. This is after the Heian period, despite the Gojo’s saying they were well established during that time.

But regardless of this, they could have existed in some hidden form within the Sugawara clan beforehand, and only became official during that time. After all, that tentative date is public, and I can think of several reasons why curse-wielding sorcerers would want to keep certain things about their family history private from the general public.

This works with what Tengen said about the Six Eyes, Star Plasma Vessel, and Kenjaku being intertwined in fate. Even if my assumptions about the Gojo clan are not correct, the Six Eyes probably predated the Gojo Clan in some form anyway.

Anyway there wasn’t a point to any of this, I’m just bored and rambling. If anybody else has anything more specific about the time period or just wants to talk about jjk worldbuilding and background please do I love headcanons and fleshing out already established worlds.

#jjk manga spoilers #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo family #gojo clan #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jjk kenjaku #jjk tengen #jjk uraume #jjk yorozu #jjk analysis #idk if that counts #this is mostly just me rambling I don’t know if I would call it analysis

93 notes · View notes

thorougly-melted-brains · 9 months

Text

SoapGhost superhero/vigilante AU where Ghost is a vigilante whose front is a dry cleaning place and Soap is a hero who cannot keep his suit intact to save his life.

Ghost is the city’s masked menace. He’ll bring down stores, banks, companies, even empires just to keep the city balanced. His main task is hunting down predators and abusers, especially ones in positions of power. He is a one-man army, nobody knows his face or even his voice really, he seeps in and out of the darker corners of the city like his namesake.

Simon Riley is the quiet owner of a dry cleaner downtown, whose known for taking… unusual costumers, he’s discreet.

Soap is a newer vigilante who moved into the city a year or so ago. He’s peppy and bright, and noticeably only covers the top half of his face. He doesn’t kill, not without absolute necessity, and spends most his time with corruption and petty crime.

John Mactavish is the odd but friendly artist who moved into a studio apartment and spends most his days holed up in there, on the roof, or in some coffee shop sketching.

Soaps first interaction with Ghost is… distinct. Ghost pounces on a man Soap was trailing (literally, he drops from the fucking sky) and only acknowledges Soap after the gun is literally grabbed from his hands. Ghost pulls out a knife and Soap swipes that too. At this point, both pause and decide to actually talk. Or, at least Soap does.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t just let you kill someone.”

Ghost tilts his head at him, a silent, challenging ‘why?’

“Listen, you just let me take him in, and I’ll stay out of your hair, mask, whatever - just please don’t pull out another weapon.”

And Ghost nods because he’s nothing if not tactical, and also because who the fuck is the new guy grabbing weapons out The Ghost's hands.

Soap meanwhile has to very awkwardly wrestle with the fact he got between 6’4 brick wall’s gun for some random, assuredly shitty man who is now babbling and thanking him for saving his life. It also does not help that the aforementioned brick wall is much too close to Soap’s type. Tall, fit, judgy, and also a serial murderer who is almost assuredly willing and able to hunt him for sport- Soap needs to rethink his career path, and whatever life choices lead to his unfortunate taste.

Ghost has been trailing Soap during his free nights for a few weeks when a roughly shaved man covered in paint with a smile like a floodlight stumbles into his business at 8:00 am. He learns quickly that his name is John, that he’s new in the city, and that he really needs this stain out of a pair of very un-civilian looking pants.

Simon doesn’t comment on how the stain is most definitely blood, or how the fresh stitching on it really looks like a repair for a knife wound, only shoots a glance at Soap's paint spattered clothes when he asks if he needs anything else cleaned. He’s more preoccupied by the fact this man has the exact same shitty haircut, build, and jawline as the peppy hero he’s been following.

Soap doesn’t recognize him because, really how could he, and rushes back out sporting the same grin he came in with. If Ghost follows him extra closely the next few days, it’s only to assure he doesn’t know his identity, and nothing to do with the major stab wound the other man is assuredly dealing with.

Soap meanwhile is panicking doubly because he made a fucking fool out of himself in the form of the obnoxiously hot dry cleaner down the street from him and because Ghost has started following him. It takes him a few days to notice, but he’s there, always just out of sight. He never approaches, never does or says anything, just follows and watches. Soaps content for the time being, just happy the other vigilante has less time to murder people.

Soap visits Simon more frequently, for both work and work related cleanings. Simon starts looking forward to his visits, against his better sense. The other man is quick, smart, and has the same sense of humor as him (as much as he might groan at Simon’s terrible jokes).

Simon also worries, because the more work related items he receives from Soap, the more injuries he knows the man has. Ghost's schedule starts including more and more time following the other man, just for security reasons, of course.

Soap is in a similar, if more serious, predicament. Because Simon is fucking gorgeous and smarmy yet charming but every bit just right. Soaps started getting into more fights, taking more hits he would usually dodge, just to see the other man. Hell, he even takes in some of the fancier clothes he’s long since ruined by getting bored waiting for events.

He’s going mad romantically and in the sense his ever present “friend” has turned bolder. He’s following him nearly every night and has even dropped into the alleys Soap has just cleared a few times, standing in the dark and just staring at him.

#writing #soapghost #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #superhero au #cod mw2 #au

55 notes · View notes

leajdh · 10 months

Text

Gold rush

Chapter two: She bruises, coughs, she splutters pistol shots, hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks

He was just a few more steps away from becoming a living legend. Already praised by the media as the honored one, he made a grave mistake which not only put his Ice Hockey career on hold, it disappointed even his most loyal fans so much so that his reputation sank to an all-time low.

Then he meets you; a retired figure skating champion who is now trying to find her purpose in life after her triumphs, all while still being loved and cherished by the media and public likewise.

Satoru Gojo sees his chance to not only get back unto the rink, but also to regain his former popularity.

But he soon realizes it will be a lot harder to get on your good side, because he's everything you despise combined into one person.

Will you give him a second chance and allow him to redeem himself, or is this going to be the match for your life time?

Gojo Satoru x reader (first person narrator)

Ice Hockey AU

FAKE DATING TROPE

Enemies to lovers

English isn't my first language, so expect some grammar errors

18+!!

LINK TO ALL CHAPTERS:

The music stops before repeating the same song over and over again.

I’ve been on the rink the entire morning, waiting for Masamichi to arrive, but he’s not here and I can’t find him at the resort either. I told him over text message I need to talk to him, urgently, before he has his meeting with Satorus crew. He just texted me an emoji of a man skiing back.

Great, when he’s skiing I can never predict when he will be here and I need to show him the pictures beforehand. I don’t want to open this pandora's box in front of Satorus manager and whoever is also on his crew. I just want to show the pictures to Masamichi and have him handle the situation. Maybe he would politely decline their request and they would search for another rink to train. I’m not petty enough to ruin Satorus entire career by ratting him out to his crew. Even though he deserves it and I want to see him lose his cool when he realizes whatever happened yesterday between us was just the tip of the iceberg.

But I tend to let emotions get the best of me, and yesterday while eating my cold burger I kept staring at Satorus autograph and thought to myself I already won against him. I don’t need a rematch. Especially one I knew I had already won.

Masamichi will handle it the mature way and if he decides to snitch on him, then so it will be.

I’ve finished the same skating routine for another time and another one and so on until I can't remember how often I’ve restarted the same program. The music stops as I want to get up from my final pose to start again from the center of the rink. But I get distracted by clapping from the tribune.

I would recognize the sound of this specific applause everywhere.

“Romeo and Juliet, mhm. Didn’t know you are a pair skater now”, my former coach Mei Mei shouts over to me, pressing the pause button on my phone to stop the music. My vision is blurry but I would spot her figure out of millions. She was the one I always focused on during competition. My sight had always searched for her approval.

“And I didn’t know hell allowed its citizens to visit earth”, I just shouted back in response, realizing how out of breath I am. My body aches for a pause, my knees want to give up, but not in front of her. Never.

“Romeo and Juliet is for pairs”, she simply says back. Mei Mei is a person of few words and barely laughs. She likes to get her point across without a lot of chit-chat.

“I disagree.”

“Of course you do. You don’t need another person to sell a love story. Still as presumptuous as ever.”

"Presumptuous, yes, but did it work? Did you buy into my love story?”

I grin at her.

“Did you make this choreo on your own?”, she asks instead.

“Yes, so no need to get jealous.”

“It’s good, it’s different. With a few changes here and there, we could..”, I don’t let her finish her sentences. I know where this is going and I’m not in the mood for a discussion with her.

“I did it for funsies, not for competition.”

“You still land all your jumps, such a waste of talent.”

“What are you even doing here? Don’t tell me you missed me”, I laugh holding onto my knees for support. I overdid it. Fuck, my muscles are about to give up. Just relax, I tell myself and in a few seconds I will have the power to quickly skate out of the rink to sit down.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m here for someone else”', her harshness doesn’t hurt me. I’m used to it and I know for a fact that she actually really cares about me. Hard shell, soft core. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself for years.

“Oh, what kind of masochist decides to hire you”, I snicker, gaining my vision back.

“Will you be quiet? You must have forgotten but I made a winner out of you. ”

“And here I am thinking it was my lifelong dedication paired with my blood, my sweat and my tears.”

“Four years later and you’re still a snotty, little brat.”

“Add talented and I agree”, I hear giggling and it’s not from Mei Mei. I look around and see three people at the entrance arch. They are too far away for me to notice details, but I distinguish a woman with a plain black skirt and long brown hair. A man with likewise long hair but darker, and him.

Satoru Gojo.

His white hair I would recognize everywhere. It seems like the other guy was the one who laughed because the woman is sucking on a cigarette, even though it isn’t allowed to smoke in here, and Satoru stares at me with a stone cold face.

Shit, I’ve hoped to never see him again, particular after what happened the night before. Memories from yesterday creep up on me. I feel heat rushing to my ear and places I don’t want to talk about.

“My new client is here”, Mei Mei says in the direction of Satoru.

You gotta be kidding me.

“Hockey, really? Didn’t you say it’s for brutal losers with two left legs?”, I exclaim, watching them walk down the stairs. Mei Mei is a former ice skater but as she herself said, she wasn’t talented enough. So she decided to coach and she is amazing at it. She knows bones and muscles more than any doctor. She can see from a mile away when someone steps on the ground the wrong way or when the legs hit a wrong angle after a jump. No doubt in my mind that she is capable enough to train a wounded hockey player back onto the ice.

“Yes, but money is money, right?”

She is always saying what’s on her mind. Unapologetic. Some clients would find this utterly rude, but they don’t seem to care.

I need to get off the ice and away as fast as possible, but my legs are still shaking. I’m afraid I will fall when I try to skate off. This situation couldn’t get any worse.

So I just follow them down the stairs with my eyes, focused on Satoru, who stares right back at me. No smile, no goofy expression, nothing. It’s like he’s ready to go into the rink for a fight. I’m so focused on him that I first take a look at the other guy as he says: “Hey”, adding my name casually: “Long time no see.”

I just look at him and can’t sort out his face.

“I can’t even be mad at you for not..”, he continues but I screech in a high-pitched voice: “Suguru.”

Right at this moment my left knee gives in and I fall on my side. Gladly I’m used to falling so I know how to save myself to avoid greater damage. Still I fall on my hip and only manage to save my head from hitting the ground by using my elbow to keep my upper body steady. I hit a nerve and it shots right through my limps. I want to scream but it is already embarrassing enough to fall like that, especially after saying a guy's name, so I suffer within.

“I’m fine!”, I say immediately. It hurts, but I’m fine. Maybe it will bruise but I’ve had worse. The only problem is, I can’t get up. The muscles in my left lower thigh start to constrict, making it impossible for me to even get back on my legs. My ass is therefore glued to the ice. I shift my weight to at least get my legs off the cold ground. Of course I’ve decided not to wear tights today, a foolish mistake.

“You forgot to eat your banana!”, I hear Mei Mei scream. I can’t remember the last time I ate a banana, but whenever my muscles were exhausted, Mei Mei would tell me to eat more bananas. “I will get you”, I hear Suguru say. I’m glad he’s the one offering me help, yet I still tell him I’m good, I don’t need any help.

Suguru Geto.

He was the captain of the university ice hockey team, which used to train on this rink before Yaga cut the contract a year after Suguru had graduated and moved to play for the Boston Bruins. He was a heartthrob and probably still is. I can further remember all these college girls giggling on the tribune as they were watching him train. My initial thought was, he would be an arrogant ass, like most hockey players.

But Suguru was different. He was nice to everyone. He laughed at every joke his teammates told him, he greeted everyone who walked past him and he listened and was actually interested in every conversation he had with fans.

We saw each other while he was on the rink, because even when the rink was occupied, I spent my entire day in the hall. Usually I was reading and occasionally looked over to him. It seemed like ice hockey was created for him. With such an ease he ruled the rink and demolished his opponents. But most importantly he had truly fun, something I rarely had on the ice. For me skating was all about winning and keeping my mind occupied. I trained so hard that my brain couldn’t hold a thought for longer than a second. Everything was about skating. Nothing else was invited in my mind.

I was jealous of him in a weird way.

He was allowed to sometimes come over when the rink was closed to skate, because my mother liked him. She didn’t hold animosity against ice hockey players, unlike me. One time she said Suguru reminds her of my father and I laughed at her. My mother had her delusional moments. There is nothing good about my father.

There is so much good about Suguru.

Suguru and I often sat at the same bench but never really talked and I think he was glad we didn’t. Whenever I saw him with his team, he was surrounded by people who wanted something from him, so he must have enjoyed the silence we shared. It’s not like I wanted to talk with him anyway. I didn’t have time for friends, much less for boys. But we greeted each other and sometimes he told me how impressive my jump was and I showed him my support by giving him a silent thumbs up when he looked at me after hitting a goal.

I only found out about him playing for the Boston Bruins, because he sent me a card after I won at my first Olympics. Reading how he forced his entire team to watch me and how happy he was when I won. He added his condolences for my mothers death, saying he first heard about it through a presenter who mentioned it on TV before my performance, so he’s sorry for not contacting me earlier. In the envelope were two tickets for one of his games in Boston. He wrote that he knew about my distaste against ice hockey, but a little city trip never hurt nobody. He even wrote I’m allowed to read or look at my phone, on condition that I shoot him a thumbs up when he’s making a point. He didn’t leave a phone number or address, so I couldn’t contact him. I’m not sure if I would’ve even done that. After the Olympics I didn’t have free-time. I was giving interviews for magazines, doing photoshoots and had TV appearances. So I never went to his game.

Eight years have passed since then. Occasionally I was thinking about him, but we never shared a deep bond to begin with and for him to not leave anything to contact him felt like a sign that he was just trying to be nice. Nice how he would be to everyone who lost their mother and later won at the Olympics. I would have felt like a fool for trying to contact him after all these years.

As Suguru wants to step on the ice, Satoru holds him back and slithers past him, saying he will get me.

Oh no, I force myself to get up while the woman, who is with them, just says: “Gojo, if you hurt yourself going on ice without skates, don’t expect me to treat your wounds afterwards.”

But it didn’t seem to bother him being on ice without skates. He slides towards me like it’s the easiest thing ever. For him it probably is. He must have insane upper body strength and don’t get me started on the legs. I mean I’ve seen the pictures, not only before I went into the pub. I googled him again at home while Hime was telling me about her day, mentioning how Satoru and his crew rented the entire third floor and how upset the cook got once she gave him Satorus meal plan with all the extra wishes.

Before he has the chance to reach me, I’m on my legs again. It’s killing me, but it’s better than getting help from him. He still extends his hand towards me.

“No really, I’m good”, I say and want to skate past him towards the rink exit where Mei Mei is waiting for me with open arms, but he grabs my arm and throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing. Before I even register what I’m doing, I kick my legs, but he holds them in place, whispering to me: “Leaving me out in the cold is one thing, but now you’re trying to kill me.”

I instantly stop moving.

I forgot I had my skates on. Hitting him at the right angle, they would cut through him like butter.

“I’m sorry, did I strike you?”, I ask, totally forgetting whose shoulder I’m on. He has his arm wrapped around my upper thighs. His hand is laying precariously close to my ass, while his other arm blocked my kicks.

“No, I’m fine, princess.”

Just now I’m realizing that he isn’t taking me to the exit where the others are waiting. He’s going across to the other exit.

“Don’t call me that and you’re going the wrong way!”

“Yesterday you didn’t mind me calling you princess, and huh? Not wearing tights with such a short skirt. Don’t tell me you did that for me.”

“Dream on”, I buzz back to him with a lowered voice: “Now let me go, I can skate by myself.”

“No, we need to talk”, he rustles and pinches me right below my ass. I’m hitting him against his lower back but it doesn't bother him.

We arrive at the other exit while the others look confused at us from the other side. Great, I don’t want to know what they are thinking.

He lowers me down and finally lets go of his grip he had on me. I open my skates as fast as I possibly can, not looking up to him.

“As much as I enjoy you kneeling in front of me, we need to talk.”

I get up with my skates in my hands and turn around to leave. There is no need to talk. By now his pea-sized brain must have figured out that I’m playing a part in his whole contract with the usage of the rink.

But it’s too late.

He fucked up by drinking.

He broke the contract before it was even completely finalized.

No need for me to hear his excuses.

As I’m walking away from him, he doesn’t hinder me. Instead I hear a sound which makes my blood freeze inside my veins.

‘Who’s your daddy, Zenin?’

Followed by me whimpering his name.

My heart sinks as I jump up, turning to him. Satoru hasn’t moved a bit as he holds his phone out for me to see a video.

“Do I have your attention now?”

I can’t believe it. How didn’t I notice him filming?

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

This is not good.

Not good? It’s a fucking disaster!

“Delete it”, is all I mutter once the clip is over. The clip itself is dark, you can barely identify me. But him saying my fucking last name and me being dumb enough to play right into his cards by answering. Fuck.

Did he plan this from the beginning?

No, it can’t be.

He’s just a pervert, who does stuff like that. His obsessive talking about taking pictures of me while fucking him with a Rangers shirt on should have been an indicator from the start.

“You know I can’t”, he answers.

“Why not?”

“The pictures.”

“Which pictures?”

Pathetic comeback for me, but I’m startled. I can’t lose this evidence. Surely I could ask Masamichi to just believe me or tell him to call Frank. He’s a witness, but I’m not even certain if he would listen to me. He would probably tell me to stop with my animosity against Satoru.

“Oh don’t you dare act stupid”, he puts his phone back into the pockets of his grey training pants: “Suguru has warned me about your dislike towards ice hockey players. Don’t get me wrong, I understand it. But I would’ve never guessed how far you would go.”

“What do you mean, warned?”, I cough.

“Did you really think I didn’t know who you were right from the beginning?”, I look at him, my heart beating a thousand miles per hour in my chest: “I know so much about you, you have no idea.”

I start to lose balance again, holding myself up at the edges of the rink. Partly because of my still exhausted legs, but more so because I feel the panic rise inside of me. I want to puke, knock myself out, just so I can wake up far away from him in a hospital bed and act like none of this is happening right now.

“Sit”, he points to a bench: “This will take a while.”

I obey and take a seat. There is no way for me to get away. To get out of this situation. If I can live through this nightmare, I can do anything.

At least for now he’s keeping distance, leaning against the wall in front of me. I’m glad no one seems to come over to bother us. Before I could ask myself why they are leaving us alone, I rant: “I didn’t give me any permission to film me! Do you have any idea how badly this could affect my life?”

“And do you have any idea how these pictures could affect my life?”

“It’s your own fault! You took these pictures, you did it yourself! If I were your average fan, these pictures would be online already!”, I scream at him, holding back tears.

“Yes, and it was fucking stupid of me. I was reckless.”

“So your own recklessness gives you the permission to film me? Why did you do it? Is this a sick kind of game to get back at my father, something to laugh about with your team?”

He walks over to me, seating himself next to me at the bench, stretching his left leg out. Not looking at me.

“It has nothing to do with your dad and no one will ever see this video, if you keep the pictures to yourself and let me skate here.”

I feel sick.

“Are you blackmailing me?”, I ask with a shaky voice.

“No, I’m just matching your energy. You started this foul game, I’m just keeping up.”, he’s still not looking at me, now both his legs are stretched wide open. Relaxation in person. He never seems to lose his cool.

“I don’t understand.”

“I already told you not to act stupid. You made it your mission right from the moment you saw me at the pub to ruin my life and I was dumb enough to not notice it until I saw how you looked at the pictures. Smiling like I walked right into your trap. I realized I’m fucked if I don’t have a quick backup plan.”

We really played each other, but I underestimated him tremendously. He’s right. I thought he is a dumb ice hockey player, who is an easy opponent. I would’ve never guessed that he saw right through me.

I breathe heavily and try to calm my nerves. I don’t know what to do. Or what to say. I’m on the horns of a dilemma. But I need to solve this quickly. And for this I need to know exactly what his plan is.

“What will you do if I show Yaga the pictures?”

“I will leak the video.”

I bite my teeth: “Then I will show them to your NHL team.”

“No you won’t do any of that and I will tell you exactly why.”

He stretches his arms over his head like he has no care in the world. It makes my blood boil by how calm he seems. He knows he has me in the palm of his hand. I acted the same way as I locked him out of my car. I was so certain that I had the upper hand, that I didn’t realize his real scheme. It wasn’t to fuck me, it was to counterplay my strategy.

“You’re a world-class figure skating champion without any dirty laundry. You didn’t even say one bad word about your shithead dad to the press”, he gets up and situates himself between my legs. Going on his knees to be on one level with me, while his large hands rest on my thighs. I do nothing against it. I just hold his sight and wait for him to continue.

“You’re still to this day America's sweetheart. Not a chance in the world you would risk your perfect reputation over not sharing your rink with an ice hockey player.”

“And you’re naive if you think I did this because you’re an ice hockey player.”, is the only thing I spit back at him, because he’s right about me. He read me like an open book, even with alcohol intake. He’s not a dumb player who only has parties and sex in mind. He’s a fucking psychopath.

“So why did you do it?”, he asks, genuinely curious while he rests his chin on my knee. He looks at me like this is all fun and games to him. Like he has already won. 1:0 for me, my ass. This is not a rematch, it’s halftime and I just realized that I scored an own goal.

“Why can’t you just get another rink?”, I ask instead, while ignoring his question and holding back tears. I can’t win this. He’s so fucking right. I would do everything to keep my reputation high. Thinking more about it, certainly a video like this would make massive waves. I think of all the different outcomes. In today's climate Satorus career would be over. No, let me correct that. Over something like leaking a suggestive video, his career wouldn’t be over. He’s a hot, rich man, who’s loved by many people. He would come out of this with a tap on his fingers. Only the pictures I have could ruin his career. But if he goes down, he will drag me with him. Clearly I would get sympathy from some sides, but still make the headlines. And even when people tell you, they didn’t look at it, they did. It’s the age of the internet. Once something is out there, it will be there forever and haunt you like a poltergeist. The fear has gripped me that this short, dirty talk video would overshadow all my accomplishments.

I start to cry.

“There is no time for me to find a new one before the season begins”, he noticed me crying and let out an annoyed sigh: “I’m sorry for doing this to you, princess. But my career means everything to me. You surely understand this better than anyone else.”

Yes I do, and this is the reason why I’m sitting here and declaring defeat. He can have my rink alongside with my dignity. Wait, he already has the last one.

“I hope you fall and break your neck on my rink”, I say and kick him against his chest, but he has a strong grip on my thighs, not letting go of me as he smiles: “So we have a deal, great! How about we start over”, he exclaims and lets go of my thighs, leaving his handprints on them. I brush over my thighs, trying my hardest to get them away. My action doesn’t seem to bother Satoru as he takes something out of his pocket.

His phone and mine.

He must have grabbed it before entering the rink. He could have easily just destroyed it. There was no need for him to ever mention the video he has of us. It was nothing more than another game of his. A power trip. To show off that he played me. To show off that he tricked me.

To show off that he conquered me.

I want to strangle him.

He unlocks his phone while holding mine in front of my face to activate the face-ID. Whatever his plan is, I know I have to accept it. I have never felt this kind of defeat before. I have never felt powerless over a situation. I have never lost.

Then he hands me his phone and keeps mine.

“Delete the video. And I will delete the photos.”

“How do I know you don’t have a backup?”

“I don’t use the cloud because this thing gets way too easily hacked.”

“You could have it saved to another device or send it to someone.”

“Jeez, how leery. Not sure why I deserve this.”

I just stare at him, unamused while I feel the weight of his phone in my hand.

“Okay, you can look through all my messages and ask Suguru, I don’t have another device with me.”

“And how do you know I don’t have a backup?”

“Oh, come on, princess, don’t be silly now. You were way too sure about all this to think that something could go wrong.”

I lower my glance and work my way through his phone without saying a word to him. In a fucked up way I trust him that he has no backup. But I still look through his recent messages on all his social media platforms. There are a lot of chats. Mostly I’m interested in his groupchat with the Rangers team. It’s a bunch of nonsense they ramble about. Asking Satoru about the resort and all kinds of stuff about Hockey. I’m surprised that he didn’t mention meeting me. So he really kept it to himself. Even though there was a conversation going on a few days ago that caught my attention, mainly because I see my name added into it.

Gavel: I still think it's a foolish idea for Gojo to train at the Yaga rink. Can’t trust a Zenin.

Slenderman: There’s a NDA.

Gavel: NDAs always have a loophole. Send it to me, I will find one.

Slenderman has sent a file

Atsuya: I agree with Hiromi, it’s idiotic. Aren’t there other ones?

1: We already discussed that. We requested over a dozen. Yaga is the only one that meets our criterias. No more debate. The situation is bad enough already.

Satoru: Jeez, thanks.

1: you know how I meant it..

Scarface: I also think it’s a dumb idea.

Satoru: Since when do you care?

Scarface has sent a photo (it’s a screenshot of my name in google picture search)

Scarface: notice a pattern?

Satoru: ???

Scarface has sent a photo (it’s a screenshot of Satoru Gojo girls in google picture search)

Scarface: pattern

Satoru: ???

Space bun: He means she’s your type.

Satoru: So?

Scarface: You’re there to train, not to get your dick wet.

Nanamin: I don’t want to be part of this discussion.

Nanamin has left the chat

Ino has added Nanamin

Gavel: I looked over it, I will send a better version to you, @ slenderman

Slenderman: Thank you, but our attorneys approved this one.

Gavel: They’re idiots then.

Slenderman: @ scarface Thank you for your concern, but our team at Idaho will make sure that Gojo focuses only on his training.

Satoru: Can’t promise that.

1: …

Scarface: I knew it! Can’t blame you, she’s fuckin’ hot. I would tap that too.

Nanamin has left the chat

Space Bun: Gross dude, don’t you have a girlfriend?

Ino has added Nanamin

Scarface: So? Doesn’t mean I can’t dream

Scarface: and cream.

Nanamin has left the chat

1: I’m just one more comment away from informing coach Gakukanji about this @ scarface

Scarface: Pls don’t tell daddy, I’m scared.

1: …

Scarface: Jokes aside, I’m just thinking about the team. If he’s not focusing on getting back on track, we’re fuck, so you better give Q-tip a warning.

Ino has added Nanamin

1: See you in 10, Satoru.

Satoru: Jeez, I was just joking.

1: in 10.

Satoru: okay mom

Gambler: Did someone see my Jersey?

“Gross”, I mutter, not sure what to make out of that. It’s true, he has a type, but I see his type more as models. I don’t notice a huge resemblance with me. But people from the outside see things differently, maybe scarface is right, but that still doesn’t help me on my path of trying to understand what Satoru actually wants from me. A quick fuck? A challenge? My fathers attention? Whatever his intentions are, they are not noble.

“What? Found my nudes?”, he smirks up to me, still sitting between my thighs.

“What, no!”

“Right, you wouldn’t say gross if you saw them.”, he grins and is skipping through my phone as well. I don’t really mind, because I have nothing of his interest to hide.

After I checked his most recent chats and made sure his phone is in no connection with another, all while trying not to lurk too much into his privacy, but as I went ahead to his galery to delete the video, I noticed a handful of photos of Satoru with a kid.

“You have a kid?”, I ask without thinking if I’ve crossed a line by wanting to know something so private, especially for athletes like him. A lot of famous people keep partners or kids behind closed curtains, away from the public eye.

But Satoru just glares at his phone for a second and says: “No, it’s Fushiguros.”

“And who’s Fushiguro?”

He blinks at me, knitting his eyebrows in disbelief.

“You really have no clue about Ice Hockey. Toji Fushiguro, he’s my teammate.”

“Cute kid.”

He blinks at me again, before going straight back to whatever he’s doing on my phone.

“Yeah he’s a cutie, unlike his dad.”

I don’t question his stance, even though I’m asking myself who Fushiguro is from all the weird nicknames he gave his teammates and go right into his video folder where I instantly find the video and delete it.

“And you have a cat?”, he questions showing me a picture from my photo gallery. I look at the picture and explain: “Yes, his name is Todo. He’s actually the rink cat, maybe you will see him.”

Three winters ago I found Todo as a kitten under a stack of firewood. As I was about to grab some, I heard his meow and instantly brought him inside. Even as a kitten he was big, but now he’s a huge monster of a cat, who eats like an actual monster as well. I spend more money on his food than on my own. But he’s a lovely black tabby, easily makes friends and loves belly rubs when he’s comfortable with someone. He usually lives in the rink hall because it’s more spacious than my cabin. I sometimes take him with me overnight, but often I can’t find him before I leave. I will definitely get him a friend, but the rescue center in my town doesn’t have a right candidate at the moment.

“Cute”, he smirks, still looking at the picture of Todo and me.

“Yes, he really is.”

“No, I meant you.”

I make a fake puking sound and declare: “Hope you’re deadly allergic to cats.”

He just laughs deeply into his stomach and I avoid his eyes to focus back on his phone in my hands.

Just to make sure I go ahead into the data bin and permanently scrap the video off. This has never existed. So it never happened.

I want to hand him his phone back but he’s still fixated on mine.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking through your google searches.”

“Give me my phone!”, I try to snatch it out of his hand but he grabs both my wrists with his unoccupied one and keeps scrolling with the other. Trying to free myself, he just pulls me closer, pressing his shoulder against my stomach. I have his hair under my nose and I hate to say it, I actually curse myself for thinking this, but he smells so good. Whatever magical spell he has on my brain to even just think that, needs to be shattered. I should not find him attractive, but of course fate has sent me an adonis over to make my mortal enemy.

“Over a dozen searches with my name. Are you in love or something? Honestly, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Shut up and give it back”, I screech, pulling even more. I tend to forget that he’s a fucking rock.

“Satoru Gojo DUI, Satoru Gojo crash, Satoru Gojo jail. Really?”

“Gosh, let me go”, I say and try again to rip my hands out of his grip. I rather say ‘Gosh’ because if I just utter the word ‘God’ in his presence, he will make it about himself.

“I take it back. Whoever Michael Byford is, he must be living rent-free in your head. Michael Byford wedding, Michael Byford wife. Shit, princess, you’re in love with a married man?”, but then I can see on his face as he reads more of the searches. The same ones I used when I looked Satoru up. DUI, crash, jail, murder….

He’s confused and distracted which allows me to get my hands free and snatch my phone back.

“Who is he?”, he asks instantly, staring me down, but I don’t meet his gaze.

“Did you delete the pictures?”, I ask instead, wanting nothing more than to go away.

He simply nods.

So it’s over. No need for me to stay here with him any longer. I push one of my legs past his chest to get up and brush past him. However he’s fast and grabs my shoulder, before I even have the chance to fully get up. He’s asking again who he is.

Michael Byford; the man who took my mother from this earth, from me. Normally you would think that Satoru should have heard his name if he really does know everything about me. Yet his name is pretty much never written in articles about my mothers death. Most articles about my mothers passing paint her death as an accident, some even say she was in a car and hit another one. I never talked about it or clarified anything, because it happened right before the Olympics and my PR team told me to focus on my performances. Masamichi did everything in his power to handle the situation, but apparently Michael Byford had someone mighty on his side, who had good connections with the press and a whole lot of money. His name and face were erased from most articles and lies were fabricated even though he was convicted. Whoever cares to know how my mother dies, will read about a tragic accident. Only if you dig deeper, you will find words like drunk driver or at best Michael B..

After all these years I never had the strength to talk about it publicly. People thought I handled it so well. I mean I won gold. I should have been devastated and should have resigned from the Olympic team, but skating was the only thing keeping me from collapsing. I didn’t let my brain think for one second. I pushed my body beyond its limits to kill every thought in my mind. And after the Olympics everyone seemed to forget about her death. All I heard about was my victory, which sent me straight into a pile of interviews, photoshoots, campaigns and TV appearances. Once this died down, I wanted to tackle the processing for her death. I wanted to come clear with myself and start to accept it, but Mei Mei has brought up that I need to focus on Nationals and requalify for the Olympics and at that time I chose the easier way, which was to simply not think about her death. Now nearly a decade later I still haven’t engaged in the healing process. I’m only angry and bitter. Angry at Michael Byford and whoever helped him discredit his actions. Bitter with myself for never addressing it. For keeping quiet about her death. For letting him get away with it.

But it’s too late. I missed the train to untangle it.

Being in the public eye is heaven and hell so to speak. I would open a barrel with no idea how deep it gets.

People could find me brave for finally speaking about it, for bringing attention to the injustice the press did to my mothers case. I could give speeches about it and maybe help others who went through the same loss. But who am I to do this? I’m not even over it myself. Can you actually get over a situation like it? God, they would praise me as a hero, yet I’m spiteful and my mind is filled with cruel imaginations.

On the other side the deeper the barrel, the closer it is to hell. And hell would be to come across as needy, fame hungry. Like why is she talking about it now? It’s nearly a decade ago, why didn’t she speak up earlier? Is she using her mothers death to get relevant again? Is the money getting tight and she needs a sob story to sell to the media? Like who is she anyway?

I heard this kind of stuff all before. There is not a year when there isn’t someone going through this exact event with the media and you can never predict the outcome.

And I hate not being in control.

But whatever route it would take, one thing's for sure. It would ruin Michael Byfords life. And as much as I crave his downfall, all I saw when I was looking him up online was his little daughter. I would not only ruin her father's life, I would ruin hers as well. I would not be better than Michael. There would be no way for them to be ever truly happy again after I drag them through the mud of the media. Muscle to muscle and toe to toe, her father took my mother from me so I would take her father from her.

Call me a vicious or vile person for my foul play with Satoru, but I’m not a monster. I would never be able to forgive me for ruining an innocent person's life. I wouldn’t be better than a drunk driver who takes the life of an innocent bypasser.

“Stop bothering me, you’ve won. Be happy and leave me alone”, I press myself up, still insanely weak on my legs, but I manage it. He stands up with me, all while his hand is still fixed on my shoulder. He’s really testing my body on how easily I bruise. The big one on my hip won’t be the only mark I’m getting today.

“Who is he?”, he asks again, stubborn as a mule, maybe more like a tank.

“Thought you know everything about me”, I hiss provocatively, now meeting his gaze. If I had an iron rod, I would go full Tonya Harding on him.

“I’m not letting you go until you tell me”, his grip on my shoulder tightens even more. Yes, this one will definitely become a bruise.

Why does he want to know? To send me more through hell? To keep me longer in this nightmare of his presence? To find more pieces for his twisted game he’s been playing with me?

“Just let me go”, before he has the chance to loosen his grip, Mei Mei appears, closely followed by Suguru and the unknown woman.

“What is going on?”, Suguru says, looking between Satoru and me, who has by now let go of me. I stand there awkwardly. They came at the worst timing.

“Get over here, now”, Mei Mei wails through pressed teeth at me. I obey and reach for her as she grabs my underarm and pulls me instantly closer.

First I thought she’s mad at me for some reason, but then I saw her eyes flicker at Satoru. She’s ready to kill him.

“Are you good?”, she asks me calmly, taking my face in between her palms and observing my face. I’m definitely red in my face from all the crying earlier, so I spin a lie around it. I don’t want to turn this into a big deal. I don’t want them to know why I cried, what all this is about. I simply don’t want to talk anymore. However, since when do I get what I want? So I talk.

“I’m fine, it’s just my leg. Must have torn a muscle or something. You know what a crybaby I can be.”

She doesn’t believe me, mainly because I’m not a crybaby at all. At least not when it comes to physical injuries. She winds her arms around my shoulders to steady me, but more so to give me a strange hug. Like she used to do when I was waiting for the jury to announce my points at a competition and my nerves were making me shake like a tiny tree in a storm. She’s not good with physical comfort. Who am I lying to, she’s not good with comfort in any form. For example the time when I told her about the Devils talent scout, who came into the rink and I panicked, she simply said that he’s just a random man and since when am I crying over an ordinary man. She didn’t understand my concerns or simply didn’t care enough. All along Mei Mei used to find my deep rooted fear for my absent father absurd. Maybe because my mother never spoke bad about him and watched his games on TV with full support like he didn’t completely ghosted us. She was so in love with him. And I will never know nor understand why. For me, he’s as dead as my mother.

“I will not ask again, Satoru. What are you doing here?”, Suguru is mad, or worried, or both. I can’t tell the difference. Satoru doesn’t say anything. This circumstance isn’t ideal for him. Whatever lie he has in mind, I could easily debunk it and everyone would believe me.

But I’m tired and sick of this. I want to go home and cuddle up on the couch while Hime brings me some food and tells me everything is going to be fine.

“Nothing really. He -”, a fast lie, a good and quick one.

“He had to bring me through this exit because he couldn’t turn around without falling too.”

To my surprise Satoru grins at me like the devil himself and call me a fucking psychopath, but my heart instantly skips and screams for a rematch. He has won the first game against all odds, but this was not the real one. It was just a tryout.

The pictures and the video are gone and so is everything that led up to this moment. Everything that has happened between us, is our secret. I know I could ruin him right now, throw allegations at him and accuse him of anything that comes to my mind. He would be out of my rink in an instance. It would be an easy match for me to win. But I don’t want to play a foul tryout anymore. I will find a way to get him into a dilemma. Into the lion's den with no way out. Complete defeat, so no rematch can save him.

A spiel between true legends. Two legends that don’t underestimate each other. All cards open, baby. Fuck, I can’t wait to see what kind of tricks my opponent has up his sleeve.

But first I need to resolve this. Neither Mei Mei nor Suguru seem to fully believe me. Granted, it was a bad lie. As if Satoru won’t be able to turn us around.

Yet, I don’t truly know how severely injured his leg is. Maybe all the training won’t be enough to get him back into the team. Truly pitiful, I can’t hide my snicker after this thought.

They wait for Satoru to say something, but he is as always the least stressed person in the room, so I continue for us: “He just grabbed me to get me back on the bench to favor my leg. But everyone would have tried to run away, because apparently he can’t be quiet for one second. Kept talking my ears off!”

I try to bring lightness into the stiffen atmosphere and it seems to work. Sugurus' shoulders start to relax and a small smile appears on his lips. Mei Meis' hold around me also loosens, but she still seems weary of Satoru.

“We haven’t had the chance for an introduction. I’m Ieiri Shoko, Satorus physician for the time he’s here. If you don’t mind I can have a look at your leg. Making sure everything is fine.”

She is stunning, absolutely gorgeous. An Angel.

Why is she working for a dick like Satoru?

Probably the same reason why Suguru and Mei Mei are here.

Money.

I introduce myself, but shake my head: “I have these kinds of injuries all the time, no biggie. I just need to lay down for a second and I’m fine again. But thank you and if it isn’t better tomorrow, I will gladly accept your offer.”

I beam at her and she smiles back.

“So between you both everything is fine?”, Mei Mei asks and before Satoru has the chance to say something, I intervene: “Absolutely. He was even so nice to promise me his help with the beginner skating course for kids. Miguel injured his back a few days ago and I’m actually his substitute but you know me, I’m not good with kids screaming, crying and falling all over themselves on the ice. So it was truly such a relief when Satoru offered to overtake the course until Miguel is fit again.”

Maybe this is a bit of a foul game, but I will allow it for my amusement and to save me some nerves.

“What, Satoru, you know you don’t have time for that”, Suguru expresses confusion.

“Didn’t you hear, I promised it to her”, he genuinely smiles at me while I try to not get red. I would have expected a lot of different reactions, but not this one. He’s really helping me out.

But why?

“Could be good, easy exercise for him. Training small kids and preventing them from falling requires a lot of strength, fast instincts and speed with steadiness. All while keeping calm”, Mei Mei explains, looking at Suguru.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea. No one is supposed to know you’re here. This goes against everything we arrange in the NDA”, Ieiri steps in and gives Suguru an alarmed look.

“Not to burst your bubble, but have you seen him? He looks like a giant Q-Tip, good luck keeping his stay a secret”, I utter, referring to how scarface called him in the chatlog.

Everyone huffs amused at my comment, even Satoru. I look at him and he’s watching me from under his long lashes. I feel like I’m going to faint. A man like him doesn’t deserve to be so beautiful. The world is truly unfair.

“We can discuss that later with our lawyers. And if they decline, I can step in”, Suguru chimes in and smiles at me.

“No, you don’t h-”, I stumble over my words before he cuts me off and states: “I will find a solution.”

He really hasn’t changed since the last time I saw him. He’s still calm and kind. An empathic good soul. I hate myself for dragging him into this. Of course he would sacrifice himself on Satorus and my behalf. Training kids is a fucking pain in the ass. At least for me, but Suguru wouldn’t probably mind. He’s the kind of person who's naturally good with kids. With everyone.

He’s the type of man mothers brag about to their friends and fathers love to actually hang out with. He’s the kind of person when he’s with somebody other women envy them and other men are intimidated by his presence. He’s the type of man who genuinely cares and always picks the right side.

He hasn’t changed at all, really. He just got taller, more muscular and his hair is a bit longer, but he’s still a heartthrob. Not in the way Satoru is. Suguru is the perfect portrait of a classic man, a timeless handsome face. Some would argue he has a mysterious manner. Like a fallen angel, damned to stick around flawed humans.

Satoru seems so opposite of him. White hair versus black hair. Light eyes versus dark eyes. Devil grins versus angel smiles.

But they are both so majestic in an indescribable way even though they are huge Ice Hockey Players with hard facial features and even harder muscles. And wasn’t the Devil an Angel before God threw him out?

What am I even thinking?

I should have stopped my train of thoughts after Suguru being a heartthrob and not bring Satoru into this calculus as well.

“Anyway, I should really head out now. It was nice meeting all of you. I will come back later to sign all the NDA stuff, don’t worry!”, I announced and released myself out of Mei Meis hug, walking inside the corridor.

But I quickly halt, turn around and drop a curtsey while staring daring at Satoru: “And before I forget it, welcome to the Yaga rink.”

He holds my gaze and grins: “And thank you for having me.”

Asshole, as if I had the chance to decline.

But soon enough I will wipe that arrogant smirk right off his face.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #enemies to lovers #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo #ice hockey au #ice hockey #figure skating #smut #fake dating #fake dating trope

35 notes · View notes

pendarling · 1 year

Note

Hello! I would like to request some promts/scenes/whatever please. I am afraid this might be too long.

Person1 and Person2 are petty rivals. Person1 is secretly in love with Person2, but (s)he does not know how to properly express his/her feelings, so (s)he pretends to hate Person2. One day they have a fight and Person2 accidentally causes Person1 to have amnesia. Other people help him/her to recover, Person2 feels guilty and also joins to help. Person1 slowly remembers bits and pieces of memories one by one, but (s)he remembers (s)he loves Person2 BEFORE remembering they are rivals. Person1 confesses his/her feelings to Person2, who has no idea how to handle it.

AAAAAHHH that’s sounds so cool!! For u<33

Total Recall

When Character A is in a room full of family and friends but for some reason they can only recognize Character B the best.

Character A keeps blushing obviously or stammering and B mistakes it for fear.

“Why would anyone want to hate you? You’re such a nice person I’d be jealous whoever you were with.”

Trying to start another pointless argument and being surprised that Character A is genuinely hurt/upset and keeps apologizing to them.

Nervously asking Character B if they’re in a relationship in the least subtle way possible. Becoming extremely excited when they say no.

Asking Character B to go on a date and to make up for the guilt they agree. Also feeling undeserving of them the entire time.

Character B feels bad and tries to help as much as possible. Character A accidentally assumes they’re in a relationship because of how protective B acts.

Bonus if Character B doesn’t deny it or accept it but let’s them call them their partner anyways.

When Character B tries to avoid A out of shame for what they did but that only makes Character A miss them more.

“I’m sorry, I think you’re confused. You’re not supposed to fall in love with me.” “I think I am.”

When Character A does confess to B they agree to be their partner since they felt obligated to say yes. When A does remember their memories they’re both too shy to admit they’re still technically together.

Lots of hand-holding, comforting, and complimenting from both characters.

When after a terrible “dream” Character A remembers a particularly bad argument A & B had in the past. Then asking Character B for reassurance that it isn’t true…

After Character A grows suspicious of B they decide to tell them the truth. Despite all that, Character A tells them their feeling didn’t even change in the slightest.

~~~

MASTERLIST

#imagine your otp #enemies to lovers #rivals to lovers #fluff prompt #forbidden romance prompts #romance tropes #angst dialogue #angst prompts #unrequited pining

52 notes · View notes

coldbanana1331 · 3 months

Text

Running Into a Small Gang of Demons on a Mission

Summary: Basically you run into a small gang of demons while on a mission

⚠️: Just you being a total badass. Cursing. Fem reader.

You cut through a back alley to get to the theater. The demon you were secretly stalking apparently is lurking around the theater, as told by your crow. Which ended up being a mistake. Halfway down it, you encounter three demons. They all looked premature and weak. Probably turned within the past 48 hrs. It’s no wonder they’re traveling as a pack.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Says the tallest of the two.

“Really?” You say, disgusted, “What do we have here? Is that your best line? If you’re going to attack a defenseless girl in an alley, at least try not to be cliché about it.”

Your attitude has the desired effect. It catches them off guard and makes the leader — the prime douche, if there ever was one, to take a step back. You make a move to push past (in hopes to reserve as much energy and time), but the chubby one, fat enough to block your way, eclipses your view of the end of the alley. Dammit.

“Ryoto don’t like uppity sluts,” says Prime Douche. He smiles, showing his jagged canines, the ones that were meant to mercifully tear into flesh. The fat one, who most be Ryoto, frowns and solidifies his fist, which allows some stressed veins on his arm to pop out. “That’s right.” He says. For fucks sake. Now I’m going to miss the demon whom I really need to kill for these dumbasses. You think. They shouldn’t be much work. The third one lingers, saying nothing, looking a little nauseous. None of them have recognized your uniform yet.

“Let’s not get on the wrong foot now,” Prime Douche says. “It won’t hurt as much as you think.” “Yeah.” Says Ryoto. “We’ll snap your neck first to make it end quickly.” Sleaze number three snickers at that and moves forward joining the other two assholes. Prime Douche, takes an overconfident step toward you, hands ready to snap your neck like a twig.

You look dead in the eyes. “ Touch any part of me, and I’ll kill all of you in a blink of an eye.”

You know that demons, like Prime Douche, have more confidence than brain, will take that as a dare �� which he does. He grabs your wrist — then braces himself for whatever you throw their way.

You smile at him, lift your foot, and jam your heel into Ryoto‘s knee instead. Ryoto‘s kneecap breaks with an audible crunch, and he goes down. Screaming and writhing of the sorts. It’s enough to shock the leader into loosening his grip. You twist free, and elbow him in the nose. You’re not sure if it’s broken but it’s gushing blood nonetheless.

“YOU THTINKING BITH!” He yells. Ryoto is in such agony, he can only wail wordlessly. Killing them off with your bare hands, requires more time and energy, so you opted for your sword. Effortlessly making quick work of the two.

Number three takes this as his queue to leave, running off down the alley, knowing he’ll be next, if he doesn’t. You decide to let him go. Maybe he’ll rethink his left decisions. Petty relief for traumatizing the demons for once. 1 point for team slayer, only Muzan left to defeat.

You walk out of the alley releasing a deep breath. The echo of your wooden sandals click clacking.

#kny fanfic #fighting demons #demon slayer #badass women #badass bitch #kimetsu no yaiba

5 notes · View notes

electricbluebutterflies · 6 months

Note

Hands rubbing together to warm them up + damerey kiddos

It is 2023 and I am formally back in this spiral and... doing my usual vaguely-post-canon thing that didn't happen several years ago due to Assorted Unrelated Personal Bullshit. Turns out I missed these babes. PG-ish, pre-relationship, and also on ao3.

She’s cold. She hates this.

There is, admittedly, a lot of life that Rey hasn’t experienced yet. An extended stay on an ice planet is not nor will it be the weirdest, but it’s still…

“Warm enough?”

There’s a lot more she needs to get used to, really. The fact that people care about her – both on a peripheral level, where it is very important that someone of her position have adequate clothing for every stop on what one of her friends described as the victory tour, and the existence of said friends, the fact that there are other living beings she trusts completely and-

Rey turns to look at her designated minder, who looks even less thrilled than she is about this particular adventure. “I will be. Eventually. Maybe.”

Normally this is the part where she’d add some little comment about how her comfort doesn’t matter, as long as she’s functional she’ll deal, but she’s learning to moderate that around certain people. Well, one specific person who absolutely refuses to listen to her and-

It’s not personal. It’s deeply personal. She’s not used to duality.

What she’s figured out, in these months of closure or whatever, is that the official reason they’re stuck together is the droid apparently has separation anxiety and that’s definitely a new one by her standards, and the unofficial one is that someone somewhere in Resistance administration figured that two chaotic humans would cancel each other out. This is… not exactly what’s happened, but it’s kept both of them out of trouble better than she suspects any other scheme would, and-

“So, not warm enough and going to pretend otherwise because you’re a self-sacrificing-“

“Like you’re any better!”

This is the part she’s gotten used to, the too-public verbal sparring matches that are still… affectionate, somehow. She heard all the rumors long before they got to this point, and she knows there’s no harm meant in whatever too-perceptive accusations might get thrown around, and-

“I think I’ve at least figured out layers,” Poe mutters, giving her an unimpressed look. “Whereas you…”

“Don’t… don’t make my inexperience into-“

“Worried, not amused. You look frozen.”

“I feel worse.”

“C’mere.”

She takes half a step closer and is unsurprised when his gloved hands wrap around hers, moving just slightly in repetitive motion, very careful not to touch the little strip of exposed skin between glove and jacket sleeve and-

“We’re getting you better gloves,” he murmurs.

“These are fine. They do fit. That’s more than-”

He gives her that look she’s starting to recognize as a specific flavor of… not exactly disappointment, that would imply more harm than she thinks he intends, but…

“Do you know how bad it looks for them if you get frostbite?”

“No?”

“Disaster. Complete petty disaster. We do not want that, understand?”

“Since when do you-“

Her voice cuts off as she processes the accusations that want to fall out that… aren’t quite accurate, really. Almost everyone she’s met in this world has been kind to her, at worst in awe and confused, but this man is…

“I’m sorry,” she says just a little too soft. “I know you care. I’m not sure why, but-“

“I have a droid who likes you more than me, you kinda saved the galaxy, and…”

“And?”

“I like you. Does it have to be more complicated than that?”

Yes, she thinks, yes it absolutely does have to be more complicated, but… she has months of evidence that it may not be. He’s been consistently kind and protective in a different way than anyone else, but it hasn’t gone any clear direction yet. No comments about her appearance, let alone-

“You like me,” she repeats, and the words taste right in her mouth. “That’s…”

“I didn’t mean to-“

“I don’t mind. I’m just… unsure what you want me to do with it.”

“Right now… nothing? I’m not sure I should’ve said that but-“

“Probably better to get it over with. Gives me time.”

“No pressure, okay? I’m not-“

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“What, is that not helping?”

Rey rolls her eyes in a way she hopes comes off as flirtatious and okay she’s never wanted to do that before and-

“I trust you,” she says, glancing down at their hands. “That isn’t…”

“Still-“

“We can fight about this when I’m not an icicle. Deal?”

“Deal.”

#ebf writes fic #damerey #NOT queue-posting this because functionally new babes

10 notes · View notes

girlreviews · 2 months

Text

Review #287: Mr. Tambourine Man, The Byrds

I was four years old when I heard The Byrd’s version of Mr. Tambourine Man on the radio and asked my Mom what it was. She knew the name but not the artist. I constantly asked to listen to Mr. Tambourine Man after that. It just cast a spell over me. It was so gorgeous! I hadn’t ever heard anything like this! Okay so I hadn’t heard a lot of stuff when I was four but I still knew when something was magical when I heard it.

But you know, it was like 1992, and you couldn’t just easily listen to whatever song you wanted whenever you wanted (my God how did I function?). So eventually, after little success of actually getting to listen to it, I gave up asking and became obsessed with some other song and largely forgot about it.

And that’s pretty much how it stayed until I was 18 or 19 and got really really into Bob Dylan. Really into Bob Dylan. Obnoxiously into Bob Dylan. My teenage brain had no room for both The Byrds and Bob Dylan to be incredible and legendary — which of course they are — so my natural inclination was to disown my earlier love of The Byrds version and forever commit myself to Bob Dylan’s original, and Bob Dylan’s original ONLY. Why? Because!!!!!!!!!

So two weeks before I leave for college, I’m having a tonsillectomy. Which isn’t ideal. But that’s what we’re doing. I’m on a ward with three old ladies. This is what I remember from this hospital stay:

One: When I was awoken from my surgery, barely conscious from anesthesia, the nurses told me I had to briefly wake up to move from the surgery bed to my ward bed. I had my eyes closed but I was responsive. They kept saying “come on girlreviews, all you have to do is stay awake long enough to move beds”. I said to them “after I move beds, can I go back to sleep?” And they said “yes, of course you can”, to which I replied “this is the happiest moment of my life”. And it was. I could sleep peacefully without any fear or disruption with nobody I knew around. I never had felt so relaxed. I think about this all the time.

Two: They woke me up every two hours to make me drink tea and eat toast, which I also had no complaints about. During one of these intervals, a man was at my bedside that had a very calm and comforting demeanor. He ran the hospital radio station and asked me if I had a song I’d like to hear. I emphatically said “Mr. Tambourine Man, but the BOB DYLAN version!”, and then I was glued to that radio station until the moment I was discharged. Can you imagine how salty I was when he played The Byrds version? It makes me laugh now, because I definitely prefer it again. My four year old self was so much wiser than my sulky teenage mind.

I actually listened to this record a few months ago and was surprised to recognize another song I knew. I’ll Feel A Whole Lot Better, made known to be by Tom Petty. The thing about The Byrds is how they didn’t enjoy the same success, or, magnitude of success as some of their peers even though they’re really responsible for creating entire genres. And their influence is just, immeasurable. I hear in this record a never ending list of records that wouldn’t exist without it. Too many to name. The vocal harmonies, twiddly guitar, and gentle percussion are what captivated me when I was four years old and it’s pretty clear that I was not the only one. It feels like a life reaffirming cup of tea when you’re hungover. That second sleep. That shower where you emerge feeling like a new person and everything’s about 37% funnier. What’s better than that? Other than not being hungover to begin with. Sometimes you gotta ride the Dao, though, you know?

#album review #music #music review #rolling stone top 500 #the byrds #Mr. tambourine man #bob dylan #tom petty

5 notes · View notes

holyluvr · 7 months

Text

“You won’t be saying that you hate doctors when you need life saving surgery”. Sure, I will.

For starters, similar to “man-haters” and their experiences with men, I have PTSD from repetitive medical and psychiatric abuse and mistreatment. No shit, logically it doesn’t add up to generalize all doctors as horrible. I’m venting from a place that hasn’t been healed and rage at injustices still happening, using my own language that it’s fine if you don’t understand or know what I’m referencing, but I’m aware of this.

I hate the healthcare system, and doctors are their mascots. Man haters usually hate the patriarchy for the trauma it’s allowed men to give them. They hate men by extension of the patriarchy as if to say, “Men are what the patriarchy is based around and who are held free of consequences and responsibility because of it. Men are the mascots of the patriarchy”. Unless they’re sexist on top of the PTSD, they’ll recognize that it’s a social issue that they’re being harsh on from trauma and rage and that anyone born male isn’t inherently dangerous. The misogynistic men were raised in a patriarchal society, but that doesn’t excuse or justify rape, abuse, femicide, and kicking women down to climb higher.

The same for doctors. They’re a product of a fucked up healthcare system and the light of that system shines mostly onto them. So, yeah. I have medical/psychiatric PTSD. I’m not going to trust them even if I’m aware that good doctors, just like good men, exist. I’m going to be on edge because the knowledge of good doctors existing doesn’t work in the present when you don’t have any around you and have only met dangerous ones.

Secondly, but most importantly, life-saving surgeries and treatments were incorrectly used on people in my family, killed my sister, and dangerous mistakes were made with me that there’s almost no excuse to have made while in ER rooms, and those workers had zero excuse— which was maybe why I wasn’t told about it and found out after I was released. Unless they’re so bad at being ER workers that they simply forgot 🤪😋 to tell a 22 year old that I started to have a heart attack and showed signs of organ failure! Silly mistake on their end.

Nurses either are exceptionally bold or don’t realize that patients can hear them gossiping at the reception desk. I have heard 2 nurses/techs say that I was better off dead when I was a teenager because they thought I was still drugged in the room they were leaning against for their little conversation on how they’d disown their child if they harmed themselves so selfishly like I had(My mother snapped from stress and told me to kill myself. That’s why she did not answer her phone nor show up at the hospital when I was being transferred, but sure since y’all know-it-all).

It’s like how my father scoffs and says, “Who would you call if you were raped?”(🤡 he’s gotta be in denial about how much of a pig he is) when I make a comment about not trusting the sherif. I wouldn’t call them because the times that law enforcement were involved were traumatizing with no positive outcome.

The doctors in hospitals who asked about it did nothing about it either besides write it in my files that I have a history of sexual abuse— ignoring that it was ongoing and probably needed some legal or social work support. The only focus brought towards that was using it to say why I must be LGBT+/GNC. Just like with the law enforcement, it was weaponized against a child and used to further focus on sexualizing said gay child.

No. I wouldn’t have my trust in a doctor to save my life because my experiences with healthcare workers are eerily similar to law enforcement. And many of them are cruel and petty alike law enforcement while on the clock.

I’d have to hope and pray that I survive whatever they’re doing to me and that it doesn’t permanently harm me because they got distracted by other orders or didn’t want to use expensive equipment or didn’t want to admit they have no experience with something a diff specialist needs to be called in for or don’t think someone like me should exist in an ideal society,…

Or their version of what sounds exactly like the “Poor me, forced into insanity and murder because I had no choice but to look after this failure of a burdensome human everyday or kill them!” caregiver burnout murder case defenses, as if caregiver burnout itself by caregivers of highest level needs disabled people justifies abuse or murder. It does not! You can quit being a carer before you decide to abuse or kill the disabled human you’re caring for! Just like you can divorce your wife instead of abusing and killing her! Seriously, what the fuck? 😀 Ahaha. I understand pride is a problem, but what the fuck? Just like these cases, you can and should quit being a healthcare worker or put it on hold indefinitely if you start acting abusive or selfish on the job.

I was in hospitals more than school growing up. People used to argue with my parents about how they were letting strangers raise me. It’s not like I became physically disabled a few years ago and entered the world of doctors to see a few new horrors. I was raised in that system.

You think they did a good job? This is how the end result of people educated in child psychology and pediatrics talking to a child more than any other demographic should be? It’s a bit off base imo to come at me for what’s seen as hysteric and insane takes on doctors when they told me who to be. They and my mother chose what I ate, what pills I took, what I was allowed to say, what I was allowed to believe, who I could be friends with if I dared speak to anyone, how much time outside I was allowed to get,…

Do people think I was born a snakey and insensitive bastard? I spent my life so far metaphorically figuring out puzzles to locks on doors that kept getting more difficult every time I managed to open them in rooms without windows. Then I saw that I was just in a damn hallway with my mother that lead me right into an identical room owned by doctors. Over and over again. That’s been my growing up. None of my doctors gave a single damn about my health or the abuse I had been through.

I won’t trust a doctor. I’d have no other options of who to turn to. Letting someone die is illegal, so as soon as you lose consciousness, doctors can legally treat you even if you said no— but it’s like making a deal with someone who could be the Devil and not knowing what will happen.

I love doctors. I respect their work, and the concept of healthcare is important to me. Doctors are usually my favorite characters in anything. They were my only idea of who I felt OK looking up to and basing my ideals on.

I don’t trust them nor their workers and connections and tools anymore at the same time, and I think that’s fair to say, especially right now, as an adult trying to heal out of everything they’ve told me about myself. I don’t think it contradicts to say that the concept of working-healthcare practices in place is admirable to me while the real, corrupt industry it’s turned into is Hell.

When I hear the word, “mother”. My first thought is my biological mother. Then memories of psychologists and therapists come to mind all the same. If you say “father”, my first thought is my biological father. Then memories of psychiatrists and techs. I think, for myself, I at least have a better idea than anyone else on my experiences with healthcare workers.

Healthcare workers traumatizing me and killing people in my family doesn’t mean they didn’t save or majorly better the QOL of someone else. Personal bias or better treatment of who they like. State regulations. Cultural differences. The existence of doctors who are doing everything in their power to hold the pillar up while their coworkers long let it go in defeatism, propaganda and erasure in education, socioeconomic stress, stress from higher-ups in control of funding, or whom never really cared and prioritized lives in the first place.

“That’s just how it is”/“Theres nothing in my power to do” is something both my parents and therapists have said to me while looking downcast and defeated when I’ve questioned why they hurt me, themselves, others, or let it happen with others.

A lot of people have heard that from adults as children and were pissed or hurt every time. “Life is unfair, get over it”. That mindset. That language and standby on violence that goes with it. The refusal to stand up for a child asking for Justice.

Full offense at every person who has said that while on the job or to a child when I say this….How much of a fucking coward do you have to be to look at someone smaller than you and injured from people on equal footing with you and say that? If you really think you aren’t being a POS coward, say it louder while looking the kid in the eyes, and don’t apologize or sound apologetic along with it. Do you give a fuck or not? Does it bother you or not? Do you have issue being associated with that or not?

Just like my parents, the same with doctors. Nothing is more frightening than someone in power over you who is unpredictable and goes back and forth between what they say and how they act. Especially when they hold unhealthy attitudes or are outright abusive.

#…#drs rlly will tell themselves that there’s a huge boom in paranoid and difficult disrespectful patients and be like ‘nothing to do w/ us’#as if healthcare stability isn’t like. the pillar of society doing ok #nah everyone is hysteric and junkies who wanna make their lives and work sooooo much harder and annoying and gross 🤮#***long ptsd posting u know how it is ahahaha Dr appt days med days ooooh man #but LOL how people think I wouldn’t have any idea of how doctors think and feel….do you know who my ‘friends’ were growing up? fuck off.#idk how many therapy sessions meant for me were spent on drs tangenting about their job like ok but I’m 15 and idk why I want to die so

5 notes · View notes