#on one hand this message is absolutely laughable

[sweetlittlevampire]

Re: the 'clumsy writing' you mentioned on twitter - I suggest you either invest in a good English tutor, or you try writing in your native language. It would certainly help with the clumsiness.

Will you pay for the tutor, oh wise anon? What else do you suggest - that I get my fics, which I write for free, for fun, peer-reviewed before I post them?

Please don't do this to a non-native English speaker. English is, in fact, my fourth language, and I am trying very hard, thank you very much.

(Context: I reread my first multichapter fic this morning - a relatively old thing - and commented on how much my writing skills have evolved since them, calling some of my phrasings 'clumsy' - which they are. Why Anon was too much of a coward to confront me on twitter about it if they saw it there is beyond me.)

#Sweet is rambling #Anonymous #languages #on one hand this message is absolutely laughable #on the other hand it does sting #I really am trying

[qierxing]

mmkay but like...

Vil in an arranged marriage with darling

TW/CW: Arranged marriage, coercion, manipulation

it was decided since you were kids, nothing more than an adherence to a wish between your families. While your family wasn't widely known in society, they still retained high prestige from being descendants of royals.

The two of you got along surprisingly well. It comes with being a natural supporter for Vil as he works himself to the bone to become the next rising star in Twisted Wonderland. You were there to cheer him on and hand him water bottles after his workouts, always reminded him to stretch and take it easy. Everyone should want to support him, you thought. It's what he deserves.

Time passes on and as he starts taking on big shot roles, media presence rocketing higher, you're left with a small seed of doubt. His crown glimmers and shines, and it makes you wonder if you were worthy of being in its presence. How laughable. You were the one supposed to have royal blood. And yet, Vil, carries his head high unlike you. He deserves an actual partner who can stand with him as equals; not someone who holds no ambition and can't even amount to even a fraction of his power, both physical and magical.

You bet he hates your arranged marriage. Maybe it was because he got busy with school and acting, but the two of you have drifted so far apart, you're lucky to get a text from him every once in awhile.

You shouldn't be selfish, you remind yourself. When Vil smiles at you over his cup of tea, your lips tremble at the thought that you may never get to see this side of him again.

Instead of relief, you only find anger swirling in his bewitching amethyst eyes, and you flinch as Vil sets his cup down with a hard clack.

Cold sweat runs down your back as he icily rejects your timid proposal to annul your arranged marriage. Why is he so angry? Is it because he sees you trying to weasel out of your shared responsibility?

From then on, it's absolutely suffocating. Your phone has been silenced, because otherwise you'd be driven mad by the constant stream of texts, calls, and voice messages. It's like that fateful day was a red blaring siren, and now Vil's just constantly on you to make sure it doesn't go off again. Should you be feeling somewhat better knowing Vil cared for your relationship?

The question brings a bitter feeling up inside you. While Vil was able to reach out and find new friends and opportunities, you were always left behind in the shadows. You took it as it was, always just deciding to give your all to supporting Vil throughout his dreams. Even if it meant missing a fun hangout, you would still show up to Vil's rehearsals, water and towel in hand. But where did that leave you? You're beginning to realize you've made no lasting friends besides Vil himself.

You've given your all to him.

His father says as much, when he shows up for a rare visit to your household.

"Vil has asked me to start planning for the wedding ceremony as soon as he graduates. Ah, young love..."

The sentence only fills you with dread as you can't even find the words to refute him. He leaves a silver ring decorated with a large shiny, faceted lavender gem in your hands, you can only realize that this dream is soon becoming a nightmare.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere vil schoenheit #my works #lightbulb moment #on god i am being worked to death but i will bang this out bc the thots are getting to me

[sadhours]

scumbag blues • battery acid

gator tillman x f!original character

previous chapter • masterlist

cw: 18+minors dni, unsolicited dick pics/videos, mean texts, drinking, kind of smut??? Gator tries

Daisy’s depressed. She’s been turning away clients left and right. The money from Roy keeps the bills paid but it’s tighter than before and her pops has noticed. Says something about it when Daisy’s cooking him lunch.

“I don’t know why things have taken such a turn, Daisy,” he sounds stressed. “We haven’t had a single guest in two weeks.”

“It’ll turn back around,” she assures him, “always does.”

Her mothers voice rings in her ears. Same mantra about how women have to take care of things. How women have a magic money maker between their legs and they’d be fools not to take advantage.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket, she pulls it out and looks down at the notification. Gator. Hasn’t had the guts to block him like she should. She slides it open and is met with a photo of his cock. Hard as hell. He’s on his bed, she can see his cargos bunched up around his ankles and his combat boots. He’s sent You can’t quit me, baby along with the photo and she hates the way it ignites a flame in her stomach. She locks her phone and shoves it back in her pocket, resuming the can of tomato soup she’d been heating up. She wishes Gator would just give it up. There’s plenty of other women for sale in this county. But she knows he likes her. Their sexual chemistry is undeniable. And she’s certain Gator hasn’t been with any other woman. Yet, she doesn’t even know how many men she’s been with. It’s unfair. She can’t quit this. And that’s what Gator deserves, so she’ll have to quit him.

She butters up the bread for grilled cheeses, determined to get out of this funk and start taking clients again. Her mother would tell her she’s pathetic. Gator’s always been a client, he started out as such and it’d be laughable to think they could be more. It’s a god damn pipe dream and they both know it.

—

When Daisy reads his message but doesn’t respond, Gator gets furious but his cock is still hard. The arousal mixed with the anger facilitates in a bit of harassment on his end. He records himself jacking off, mumbles about how he knows she wants him. How she’s gonna watch it later and play with her pretty pussy. Which he fully believes. Records himself cumming, muttering, “Wish I was cumming in your tight hole, baby.”

Again, Daisy opens the messages and doesn’t respond. And now that Gator’s cock is softening, the anger takes over and he sends a handful of messages.

Whatever, bitch. Ur not even pretty. Just fucking easy.

Ur used up.

Probably should get tested. God knows ur fckn infected. Nasty slut.

Fuck u bitch

Then, Gator realizes these won’t help his case in any way so he sends another.

I’m sorry. Just miss u and I ain’t good at controlling my temper

The last message never delivers and Gator’s feeling like a pathetic loser with his cum drying on his stomach. Cleans himself up and grabs his keys. He needs to get as drunk as humanly possible. Fuck, he doesn’t care that it’s only noon. This pit of dread filling him needs to be released and alcohol can dull it. The Esquire Club opens at 10 am. He’ll be with like minded company. And well, if it’s two blocks from the Inn, that’s just a coincidence. He isn’t hoping that Daisy’ll wander in desperate for money. Definitely not.

The place is dead when he gets there aside from a couple of dudes rambling about sports. Gator doesn’t keep up with football anymore. Too bitter about high school. He would’ve been scouted, out of this shithole and never would’ve touched Daisy Way if that prick hadn’t busted his ankle. Swears if he ever sees that fucker again, he’ll kill him.

The hours drone on, Gator filling his belly with cheap whiskey and countless beers. Is absolutely stumbling around when the sun goes down. There’s girls in here tonight. Ones that know Gator’s the sheriff’s son, girls that touch his biceps and ask if he’s ever had to shoot anyone. He tells grandiose stories, fibbing on the extremities. Yeah, he sees a ton of action. Yeah, Gator’s a fucking badass. He’s a fucking winner.

He gets one of the girls in the bathroom, a brunette with heavy makeup and a short skirt. Has her leg propped up on the graffitied toilet. Limp dick in his hand as he tugs it, pleading internally for it to fill out but it just fucking won’t. He knows it’s the whiskey, his whole body is fucking numb. But he can’t help but think that if this were Daisy bent over for him, he’d be hard as a rock. It’s pathetic and it’s weird, but he grabs hold of the girl's hair and tugs her head back so he can grunt into her ear.

“You want me to fuck you, Daisy? Huh?” he laughs, “Want me to stretch you out so bad?”

“My names not Daisy?” the girl replies, confusion dripping in her voice.

“Shh,” he hisses, pulling on his cock and focusing on the fantasy, trying to will his dick to life. Nothing. He balls his fist up and slams it against the stall, “Fuck!”

He shoves his flaccid length back into his cargos and barrels out of there. Leaving the girl stunned and exposed. He’s a fucking loser. If he goes by the Inn, it’ll be pummeled into his head what a fucking loser he is. Somehow, he winds up at Faye’s apartment building. Hits the buzzer. Over and over until he hears her sleepy voice.

“Who is it?”

“Faye, it’s me— er,” he hiccups, “Gator. Can I come up?”

“Gator, it’s the middle of the night,” she sighs, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Please,” he whines, hates how pathetic he sounds, “I have nowhere else to go. I won’t be fucking weird. Okay? I just… please, Faye.”

A beat of silence. Then the buzz and a green light. Gator tugs the door open and stumbles inside, looking down the hall until a door opens. Faye steps outside, rubbing her eyes and she’s wearing a long, flowy nightgown. She lets him inside and because of his intoxicated state, he clings onto her and fucking cries. Like the pathetic loser he is. But she wraps her arms around him.

“Gator, what happened?”

“I’m… I’m such a fucking loser,” he sobs, “I ruin everything.”

Faye squeezes him tighter, rubs his back soothingly. “Oh, Gator…”

She pulls back and puts her hands on his face, “I’m gonna make some tea. Sit on the couch and we’ll talk about it. Okay?”

She’s so good. So pure. So sweet. Gator hiccups and nods, moving to rub his fists against his teary eyes. Then he trudges to her living room, waiting for her to return.

#gator tillman #gator tillman smut #gator x daisy #gator tillman x original character

[fruitcoops]

Hello! I just went through the entirety of your coops fics because I was in a very major coops mood. The most recent one is also absolute gold, I loved it so much! If inspiration ever strikes you, might I request some more of ✨sexually charged✨ (if that is the word) pre-coops? I'm in love with the way you write the tension between them! (And they certainly don't always have innocent thoughts about one another pre-dating, jeez Remus "maybe I'd like him to push me up against the stalls when he's energized" Lupin) I hope you have a great day, no matter what you do with this ask obviously and thank you for all your amazing writing!!:) Also, apologies for my English!

Fic O'Ween Day 2: Moonlight! This is more cute and sweet, but there are certainly some moments where they need to go to horny jail. Character credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for momentary impure thoughts (gasp!)

You Have One (1) New Message From: Sirius Black

Remus nearly choked on half a sandwich as he snatched his phone off the desk with a glance to make sure the door was closed. Despite his best efforts, it was scientifically impossible for him to keep down a blush when Sirius was involved. The last thing he needed was someone wandering in while he was at his most embarrassing.

Are Pots’ pads in the storage closet?

And then, two seconds later:

Good morning : )

Remus ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. He received a dozen similar messages from the team every day, but there was something about Sirius that made his heart skip a beat after even the simplest question. Maybe it was because he could hear Sirius’ voice even through the screen, his accent curling around each word. Maybe it was because he could see that shy smile in the emojis that always, always accompanied a text from the captain. Maybe it was because Sirius was the one person he wanted to kiss until they were both blue in the face.

New Message To: Sirius Black

No, Pots’ pads are drying in the ice room.

And then, after two seconds of thought:

Morning : )

“Pull it together,” Remus muttered to himself as his stomach flipflopped. He checked the time, cursed, and set his phone facedown on the desk. Less than ten minutes of his lunch break remained—he would be lucky to get five with the team’s track record of terrible timing.

Sirius was laughably out of his league, famous, and straight. Remus’ poor, romantic little heart didn’t seem to get that memo. It was kind of mortifying, actually—he was afraid he’d start doodling their initials in tiny hearts on the corner of his notes like a fucking middle schooler soon.

Remus groaned under his breath at the thought and let his forehead thud against the top of his desk. Feelings were a nightmare. Curling up under his desk like an elderly fox dying in the woods was sounding better with every passing moment.

“Fuck.” He checked the clock again—six minutes until the end of his lunch, eleven until Kasey’s appointment. He cast one more baleful glance to his sandwich before sliding it back into his lunch bag and dragging himself upright.

--

“I almost have it, stop twitching!”

“Well, maybe if you moved your ass—”

“Hey, guys, I—oh.”

Sirius froze and felt James do the same.

“Should I…” Remus trailed off, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Should I come back, or…?”

“No, no, you’re good,” James assured him. His weight rocked back and Sirius gritted his teeth as a heel dug into his shoulder. Of all the humiliating positions to be found in, Remus had to walk in when he was playing the illustrious role of human stepstool. Fantastic.

He tried to fight his blush when Remus looked down at him, a laugh ticking at the corner of his mouth. “I thought you were looking for pads?”

“We are.” Sirius bit back a groan when James’ foot found a bruise from the last game. “Couldn’t find them.”

“Yeah, no, I got your text. But why are you looking up there?”

“We checked everywhere else.”

“Why would I put your pads in a place I can’t reach?”

A beat of silence passed. “I guess we didn’t think of that,” James mused before stepping back onto the floor with one last dig of his bony heel into the small of Sirius’ back.

“Ow—”

“Don’t be a baby.”

Sirius got to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster and dusted himself off, offering a strained smile to Remus. He was in his usual (adorable) uniform of khakis and a polo—blue today, softening the pale gold of his skin—and waited patiently for them to finish in the doorway to the ice baths. “We checked in the storage closet,” Sirius explained. “For the pads. They weren’t there.”

Obviously, or else he wouldn’t have found you two doing a Dumb and Dumber skit. Remus, to his credit, seemed rather unfazed as he turned to James. “Did you check the towel drying racks?”

“The what?”

“How are you alive?”

“Stubbornness and healthy living,” James said brightly.

Remus just shook his head with a grin, his soft curls falling over his forehead. Sirius wanted to squeeze him. “I don’t get paid enough for this. C’mon.”

Sirius trailed after him without hesitation, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Remus’ left ear. Not his (strong, lean) shoulders or his (perfect for holding) waist or his (god bless the inventor of khakis) rear end. Left ear. The left ear was safe, bland, and—and—

And there was a small freckle near the tip that Sirius wanted to kiss. And the short-cropped sides of Remus’ hair just brushed it like a halo. And, and, and, because Remus Lupin could never be just one thing. There was too much good about him. Sirius had known it from the moment he realized he’d do anything for a single smile from those lips.

“Hey, are you feeling okay?”

He startled, glancing down at James. “Why?”

James shrugged. “I dunno, you seem distracted.”

“Maybe you should be more entertaining.”

That got him a grin and an elbow to the ribs; Sirius smiled, ducking his head with it. James was like that, too—so much good condensed into a best-friend-sized package. God, he could hear the ‘package’ jokes James would make if he ever said that aloud. From anyone else, it would have been irritating.

Remus paused by the door with a flourish of his hand. “Ta-da! Pads drying on a drying rack. Who would have thought?”

Sirius’ cheeks heated as James let out a bark of laughter. Embarrassment never seemed to affect James, unless it came from Lily. He watched as James slung an arm around Remus and planted a wet kiss to his cheek, and tried not to acknowledge the hot spark of want in his belly. Remus was nice. Remus wouldn’t think anything of it if Sirius did the same. The problem was, Sirius wasn’t sure if he could stop himself once he folded.

“Next time, check your phone instead of playing ladder for Thing One, eh?” Remus teased, twisting a dry towel in his hand before patting Sirius on the chest.

Sirius choked a noise back at the last possible second.

Remus blinked. His butterscotch lashes fluttered once before his eyes settled on Sirius’, curious and deer-soft and full of the intensity, the pure focus, that Sirius admired above most other things. He had been studied his whole life and never once been seen quite like that.

Remus’ hand was still on his chest. His brow furrowed. Sirius was acutely aware that he was still holding his breath; his mouth watered at the thought of pressing a light kiss to that worried crease, the scrunch of his pointed nose, the slight downturn of his lips. The uninvited image of where else that furrow-scrunch combination might appear (on his mattress, healing hands curled in the sheets, bright in the moonlight like Remus deserved and stop it stop it stop it) sprang to mind before Sirius could divert his attention. He was morbidly grateful for his loose basketball shorts.

A light jab to the chest shocked him from his daydream. “That hurts?”

“…huh?”

Remus poked him again, dead center over his right pec. “You made a noise. What’s wrong?”

“I—um, I was—” Words. He needed words. What’s a word? “I was on bench rotation. Tired. Tired muscles. Non, nothing wrong.”

Remus snorted. “Being a baby, then, got it.”

The far door flew open and Sirius flinched, but Remus’ attention was already gone and James was shaking his skates at him like a dog’s leash. “Yo, it’s showtime, stop hogging my Loops.”

“Captain privilege, I get first dibs,” Sirius countered with a wry smile, even as something in him twitched at my Loops. Maybe it was his imagination, but Remus looked rather pleased.

“You have to stop using that excuse to get whatever you want.”

“Someday you’ll understand.”

“Hey.” Remus touched his elbow and Sirius stopped on a dime. He wound the towel around his hand once more, offering a smile that was half-concern, half-assurance. “Tell me if that muscle keeps acting up, okay? Powering through won’t help if you pulled something.”

As if Sirius would ever pass up an opportunity to talk with him. Was it unethical to fake an injury? “I will,” he promised.

“Solid.” They bumped fists and Sirius gave a dramatic shake of his hand, just to watch Remus roll his eyes. “I’ll see you at four. Remember to—”

“—ice 30 minutes before and bring Tylenol for after,” he finished, nodding along. “I got you, Loops.”

Remus’ next breath was a bit sharper than usual, smoothing on the exhale with a smile. “Yeah, I know.”

“Captain!” James hollered.

Sirius smiled through the urge to lock his best friend in a storage closet. “Four o’clock.”

“See you there.”

#remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #sweater weather #lumosinlove #pre-coops #flirting #shenanigans #sirius and james friendship #pt loops #noot fest #fic o'ween 2022

[mushiewrites]

hi hi what about red and ghost of you <3333 I wonder what could've inspired things like those ones <3333 hehehehe

- cal :))

from this milestone post / red / ghost of you

"I wonder what could've inspired things like those ones" you are so so soooo lucky I adore you 🙄

SO I wrote Red originally just for me and cal back in November - I never actually planned on posting it because at the time I was still iffy with feet tks and I also thought it was a little too intense (which is laughable now considering what I've posted since then). BUT I wound up posting it in december and I dont regret it at all, bc it allowed me to post even more intense things and get comfy with feet tks now :D

I wouldn't say it was self indulgent exactly, but I put things in there that I related to or had maybe even experienced, and also I was testing out writing intense things, because at that time I had only done it a handful of times. I also wanted to write a certain spot that maybe is flustering to a few people and this was a chance to do that and explore the reactions to that 🫠

Im almost positive cal and I brainrotted a bit about this? but I cant look through our messages around that time for reasons, hope this helps! :D

like I said in the tags on that fic - puppyduo stays together and suffers together <3

- - - - - - -

for Ghost of You....okay. look. it was based off of this concept of mine about dream being teased to the point he's giggling and blushing and doing lil kickies

I honestly just wanted to explore the idea of someone being flustered out of their mind and I wanted to write lee!dream bc even though he's shy, I know he leans into the feeling and loves it so so much. I wanted to write a lee I knew would enjoy it 100%, and that for me is always gonna be my dreamie 🥺

there's not a lot of other reasons I wrote it, I just wanted to write a solo thing, just focusing on the feeling and the flusteredness and the thoughts that come with it!

it is absolutely NOT anything I ever do and anyone who thinks otherwise is incorrect and wrong and dumb <3 thank you for coming to my ted talk <3

#awkwardtickleetoo #asks #u are an idiot and a dork and a gremlin but ur my idiot dork gremlin so its fine I guess <3 #anyway #thank u for sending in something baby #and thank u for always reading my stuff and thinking of titles and letting me rant all of my ideas to u #ur the best puppy a puppyduo could ask for <3 #mushies 300 milestone #cal said the way i worded that i cant look through our messages made us look like we got divorced #we did not #the messages around that time are just flustering <3

[augustslippedaway18]

Traitor- Jadon Sancho

His dark eyes were guilty whenever he looked at you the past 2 weeks or so. His excuses for being distant a little too laughable knowing the lads that he supposedly was hanging out with more than usual weren't in town and others just busy with their games. Continuous text message notifications on his phone almost hit you like a bad breaking news

and your gut was right, it was her.

You couldn't bring yourself to look at the context of the texts because the name was enough to make your heart run a marathon.

When he did he start talking to her again ? Why on earth did he allow her back in his life ?

"Is something wrong ?"

His voice broke your train of thoughts. He was back after his shower. Hair still wet and messy. You came to see him after he texted you that he missed you and wanted to see you but clearly that wasn't going to be the case anymore. You knew in the back of his head he still wasn't completely over her and everything she did to him. But then why did he keep you in his life and reassured you over and over that you were it for him.

And you knew if she wanted him back, he'd drop everything you two had and go make a fool of himself once again.

You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to let your unwanted tears fall but instead you kept quiet and shook your head.

"I.. I've to leave."

"Why ? You just arrived a few minutes back ?" He questioned.

"I just... i'm not feeling too well." And you walked past him. Without looking back. Because you knew, if you didn't you'd lose your mind there and then.

"Y/N." He called you name behind you but nothing stopped you.

Once you were out and cold night air hit your senses, you let your emotions unfold.

What are you going to do now ?

You loved him at his absolute worst. When he was broken and unloveable. When she broke his and took all that he had, you were there all along. You helped him get back to his best and he always told you he was grateful. You always told you, you were his forever girl.

But now that you thought about it, was it really his fault ? Even when he told you he was over her, was it wise on your part to give your all to someone who didn't really wanted YOU but someone else to begin with ? You were just his rebound and it made you hate yourself.

It was late almost 6 in the morning when the sudden notifications on your phone broke woke you up. You looked at your it and the first text message you saw confirmed everything you already had been speculating for the past few days, from the last time you saw him.

It was from his best friend.

[Text messages]

"I'm so sorry you'd to find out this way.

I'm always here for you if you need anything."

Your hands were shivering at this point as you opened a link someone sent you and you almost dropped your phone right there.

All the news articles had his smiling face plastered all over them with her by his side. His hand in hers. Your name visible in every single one of them. You didn't really confirm your relationship to the public but somehow people knew, you'd been going to his games every once and in a while and he'd been photographed in the front row at your headline concert in manchester.

You threw your phone away as the pain in your head increased with every passing minute. The ache in your heart was just another story.

How long had he been seeing her behind your back ? I'm so sorry you'd to find out this way. The text told you everything you needed to know. He was never over her. He just used you to get over her and flash your relationship at her damned face knowing you were equally known and famous as he was. He just needed someone to make him feel good about himself and seeing you were already there, he took his chance and you, with all of your heart just let him.

The whole of internet became a part of your sympathy gang all of a sudden and you despised the pity people were showing you. You just didn't want any of it.

There still was nothing from his side, surprisingly. No word. Nothing.

You couldn't stay in Manchester. You were only there for one reason and that reason made no sense anymore. So you booked your first flight back to the states. You couldn't bear the thought of being in the same environment as the one who so nonchalantly and casually broke your heart and stomped on it like it meant nothing.

Your heart was an absolute mess but you knew pining over him wasn't going to do you any good. You had to be on your own. You had to lift your spirits and get on with your life.

It took you almost a month to get back to your normal self. You changed your number and removed every trace of him from your life except your heart was still the same. Empty and deprived of him.

and somehow life brought you back to his homeland, you'd been recording a new collaboration with an english artist and the music video was to be shot in London. and quite funnily his best friend Reiss, who also happened to be a dearest friend of yours invited you to his birthday party and you just couldn't say no, knowing he'd be there. Most probably be there with her.

"I don't think you should go, Y/N." Your best friend warned you.

"Maybe this is my chance to get my closure ?" You told her. You knew it was a bad idea, your poor heart was just going to get more pain and nothing else.

Now being there, you wished you listened to your friend's advice. You shouldn't have been there. Cause the moment you walked in, you saw him and he saw you. Your entire world stopped for a moment. From the look on his face, he was surprised to see you.

and then came her.

Hugging him from behind. He smiled leaning into her before looking away from your eyes.

He wasn't sorry.

He wasn't sorry.

He wasn't sorry. Your heart screamed.

For hurting you, for breaking your fucking heart into trillions of tiniest pieces that you would never be able to pick. He fucking destroyed you emotionally but he wasn't sorry.

He fucking betrayed you in front of the entire fucking world and he wasn't even slightly sorry.

It was barely over 30 minutes when you bid your goodbyes to Reiss after handling him his present. He knew your reasons and so he just took you in his warm embrace and thanked you for coming.

You were about to get inside your cab when an unwanted voice stopped your movements.

"Y/N." Jadon called you, making you turn around and face him.

"Can i speak to you for a minute ?"

"No." You sternly replied and tried to open the door of the vehicle in front of you when his hand came to stop yours and you jerked away.

"Just for a minute." There were only a few moments in life which left you completely speechless and it, right there was one of them. You had so much to say to him but at the same time there were no words that could do justice to the pain he caused you.

"What do you want to talk about ?" A bitter chuckled escaped your mouth.

"Talk about the way you fucking stabbed my heart beyond repair ? The way you hurt me to the point of no return ? Talk about the way you didn't have an ounce of decency to end things with me before going back to her ? Or you're just here to tell me how sorry you are for making a fool of me in front of the entire fucking world and betraying me in your classic manner ?" You shook your head and looked at him with a smile.

"Whatever you have to say, keep it to yourself."

"Y/N wait." He stopped you once again.

"Would you ever forgive me ?"

and he left you speechless once again.

He couldn't be for real.

You knew what he meant by forgiving him, it was just his way of asking if you'd be waiting for him with your broken heart on a silver platter so he could stomp on it just some more after she leaves him again.

You could've said so many things to him right there. You could've screamed if he was actually out of his fucking head or just playing tricks on your mind to make you go insane.

You could've said a million things to make him feel worse than he did to you.

But you didn't say anything.

You just looked at him one more time before getting inside the cab and leaving his nonsensical question hanging.

Because you could swear just by looking at his face that he'd come back to you.

But you weren't sure if love was going to be enough to make you give in to him this time.

#jadon sancho #football imagines #jadon sancho imagine #jadon sancho angst #jadon sancho x reader #jadon sancho blurb #football

[saccharinerose]

Final thoughts on ACOMAF

This book felt like it was actively fighting against my trying to finish it. It was a SLOG to get through, like wading through tar on a treadmill. At some point I started just skimming through pages and even that took an eternity.

I would give SJM kudos for the whole "I just fell in love with the first guy who showed me kindness and security" thing... if Feyre's endgame wasn't Rhysand, the literal second guy who showed her kindness and security. The message just falls kinda flat...

I was suprised the book started out relatively tame with Tamlin's descend into the token hatesink but the descend did happen eventually. I honestly would prefer if he just vanished from the story bc there’s nothing I hate reading about more than a hatesink. If I had cared about his character  in the first book more than I care about stale bread, I might have been annoyed. But I don’t, so I wasn’t.

I find it funny that this book invented a whole new Being That Knows Things for Feyre to ask questions lmao I guess the Suriel was busy in the first half of the book.

The funniest scene was actually with said Being That Knows Things (the Bone Carver) when Rhysand says something and the sound of his voice was described as "velvet over the sharpest steel" (aka the most laughed-at euphemism for dick) or something and I went "Ah, he sounded penis-y"

My favourite part was the awkward dinner with Feyre's sisters because imo it is the only scene that accomplished what it set out to do. It was meant to be an uncomfortable, awkward situation and it felt uncomfortable and awkward. No other scene in the book made me feel the intended feeling.

Well, I guess the ending was somewhat enjoyable too... but maybe that was just the beckoning of sweet release

I still hate Rhys, despite this book trying its damnest to be a wholeass PR campaign for him. It's almost laughably transparent. Everytime he said "Feyre darling" made cringe for the first couple time then gag. Everytime he purred I wanted to spray him with a spray bottle.

Rhysand's Inner Circle is absolutely obnoxious and completely fell flat at an attempt to show a close-knit friend group. They act like 20-somethings who peaked as jocks/mean girls in high school, not 500+ year old immortal beings. 

I also did not buy Feyre's friendship with any of them for a second.

Amren could have been fun. Definitely conceptionally interesting. But the execution was absolutely lackluster. Her smug superiority does not feel functionally different from any other character's. I was also actively disappointed when she just turned out to drink blood instead of something actually horrifying.

Mor does not deserve to be called The Morrigan. I actually got angry at that. The Morrigan had fuck all to do with truth. She was a goddess associated with war, battle and death. Mor can be called Morrigan but not The Morrigan.

An even bigger fuck you was Cerridwen the maid though.

Velaris is unsettling. It's basically faerie Ba Sing Se, but if Ba Sing Se wasn't known to the general public. Everytime the book bust a nut about how super amazing and wonderful Velaris is, I could only think "uhh this place is super weird..."

The world itself is almost hilariously black-and-white. I can not name one good aspect of either the Court of Nightmares, Hybern or the Illyrians

If someone is intended to be evil, everything about them will be EVIL EVIL. Even the architecture!

The Mortal Queens don't bow down to Rhysand, the best thing since sliced bread according to SJM, and enthusiastically hand over an ancient powerful magic artifact? Oh, they’re definitely irredeemably evil. Especially the ugly and old ones, the only beautiful one gets to die horribly after she outlived her usefullness for the protagonists.

SPEAKING OFF, during the first description of the Mortal Queens, I could immidiately predict which one of them was going 1) important, 2) nice and then 3) die horribly. It happened exactly as I expected.

This book also started to really lean into the Humans Bad and Fae Good And Beautiful. The book started with Feyre being "an immortal with a mortal heart" and by the end of it, she had happily drunk the fae superiority koolaid.

I also find it funny how the book and Feyre pat themselves on the back for caring so much about ~*~Lesser Fae~*~ and their oppression but the only Lesser Fae who ever get to be major character are the 3 Hot Wing Warrior Men. The only other named Lesser Fae characters... are maids

Also the male characters have some of the worst drip in book history imo. Literally always just one sentence descriptions of black tunics or jackets. Boring.

I still violently and with an intense, burning fury hate SJM's fae and the use of male and female as nouns. And now we have the Invasion of the Australians with "mate" being said at least 20 times every chapter.

Every scene describing “fae” culture using male (noun) and female (noun) was fun to read in a David Attenborough voice though (”The female offers her mate food to show she has accepted the bond” feels like it would be right at home in some fantasy nature documentary)

Sex scenes were... meh.

At the very least, this book is an effective advertisment for couple's counseling and therapy. Someone should really invent that for Prythian. Might prevent a war next time

I need a much longer break if I ever want to actually torture myself with the third book...

#saccha reads acomaf #anti acomaf #anti acotar #anti sjm

[venomous-spade]

You're an idiot, by the way.

You don't get to just hand a lawyer a flash drive and give them only your side, you know that right?

You know what they do?

They'll take your phone and laptop, all of your account information, all of your messages, pictures, they would subpoena multiple people for all sides, they would make every single person's life hell to get to the real information. That's their job.

Your lawyer needs to prepare themselves for what might be coming against them, their goal is to win the case. So they have to see absolutely everything. This is called "discovery".

The fact that you think you just give them some information and they believe you at face value is both sad and funny.

It's laughable, but it's also pitiful.

You're also not famous, you have no public image, and you have no money. To be DEFAMED means to ruin someone's celebrity status or affect their established business, and it all has to actually be a lie. You have to prove everything is a lie, and you can't, because we're not lying.

Your tickets? Public record.

Those videos? Clearly you.

What happened on the 3rd? Seen by dozens of people.

You're a moron. But hey, bring it.

I would absolutely be counter suing, so all of your shit would be ordered over by the court. Everything down to seeing what apps the pictures were taken on, all the meta data of every post that was made, it's so much bigger than you think it is, and that's why you have to have a really serious case for a lawyer to even get involved.

Every post you made that you deleted, everything is still visible with a warrant. That's why court proceedings can take years. They go through everything.

That's why no one cares at all about your drama.

But good luck spending your money, and your family's money, on a consultation. That's on you.

The best thing is that if a judge does get sent any paperwork, even if it's dismissed, it will still be on record. So in the future, they can see every time your suits were dismissed prior any time you file any other civil suits.

And that's AFTER you get a lawyer to consider a case.

AFTER the cease and desist.

AFTER the money is found to buy a lawyer's time.

[countingprimes]

please give us the hunger games children's book rant

Ok so brief disclaimer, my parents philosophy for books was if I had the reading level to comprehend the language I could read the book. As a result by the time I was entering high school  i had read quite a lot of John Grisham, Michael Crichton, James Rollins, and Agatha Christie. I mention these authors by name because I want to draw a distinction here. As a child i read adult fiction and so my conception of good fiction was firmly rooted in the conventions of adult fiction. These conventions were very different than those of YA fiction and part of that is because of the priorities of the readers as they consume the fiction. But here’s the distinction - I read a lot of mass media paperbacks, not deep literature. I was not looking for a true classic or the greatest narratives fiction had to offer- I wanted to read a nice story. The reason I bring this up is because a lot of the value placed on the hunger games today is based on the ideas it purports to represent. Presumably it transcended its age demographic on the strength of its themes and the message it presented. So I want to look at the hunger games in two ways, one as strict construction and one in terms of its ideas. I’m of the belief that in both categories - this is a novel for children.

Another disclaimer: I’m not a scholar of literature or film or history or politics. My degree was in mathematics. I’m just an asshole who thinks too hard about stuff and its been a while since i consumed this media first hand (its not one i went back to for... well obvious reasons.)

Disclaimer 3: please take this with a grain of salt because, well, I never really liked the hunger games. I was in high school when they were released, right in the target age demo and so in a desperate bid to join in on the zeitgeist with my peers I read them all. And I didn’t like them. I had a lot of issues with the story and what I found to be confusing themes, I didn’t like the tone of feminism the book seemed to be driving at and i absolutely hated the central metaphor of the construction of the country

And looking back now, I can see two things very clearly.

1. My dislike of Katniss came less from the fact that she wasn’t a good heroine for teen girls - but that I myself was not a teen girl and was getting rather upset that the novel wasn’t representative of me.

And 2. I didn’t like that the hunger games was a childrens book. (Yes, technically it’s YA but YA is still written for children, older more mature children - but children none the less)

Now the impetus of this rant is someone saying the hunger games can’t be good for children because it’s too dark and it’s basically a book for adults.

My thesis here is that relative darkness of the story is not what makes childrens media for children it’s the ways in which the story chooses to convey its ideas and the way it interrogates its own position.

And my conclusion is that the very idea that the hunger games is too dark for children is laughable because the hunger games is a book that is very much only for children.

I believe the impetus behind the original take is the idea that some ideas are too much for children to understand. This is true, however in this case the children we are talking about are teenagers and are completely capable of comprehending the realities of violence war and death. And frankly any horror children are capable of experiencing they are capable of engaging with in a fictional form, one of the points of fiction in this case being able to engage with these dark realities of life from a safe place. So let’s dismiss this facet of the argument.

Let’s only focus on the question of whether the hunger games is for children. (And in doing so hopefully I will excise some of my rage at the franchise)

1. Is the hunger games for children in terms of construction

This one should go quick - the prose is simple and designed to be easily comprehensible by kids with lower reading skills and the ideas are presented fairly flatly. The vocabulary and contextual understanding required to comprehend the story is simple and easy to follow.

Yes, people die, yes torture is implied quite a lot, yes characters have dark backstories rife with abuse and suffering. However what is presented to us in text is written in the same way all YA adventures are written. It doesn’t really lean in to the pain of the characters in that way and doesn’t address the trauma very deeply. Yes compared to other ya books at the time the hunger games did more in portraying at least nominally that katniss and peeta had ptsd at the end of their experiences but this serves the underlying narrative little more than to assert that yes experiencing trauma makes you traumatized.

The story of the hunger games follows standard childrens book construction, the main characters are separated from adults or the adults in their lives are unhelpful or unable to help and the entire cause is hinged on the childrens shoulders.

They often don’t do any major planning for events until he stories most of this happening off screen by adults and instead they simply execute a series of plans by adults. These plans are often flawed or fail and allow the children to solve the problem themselves eventually becoming the heroes in the story.

The hunger games is no different, katniss is it displayed to be a political genius, or a genius at warfare. She simply stumbles into the role of heroine and in her quest to survive and protect her own she becomes the leader of a movement which sparks revolution.

This makes for a good childrens novel becsuse that is the position most children occupy. They don’t have a ton of military strategy and political savvy,  but they do have loyalty, love and friendship and these stories tend to center the triumph of those three things over the evil and painful systems because that is often the limit of the agency kids are afforded.

Kids stories tend to center an “Everyman” sort of character that the reader can help project onto, these characters have preternatural skills that allow them ease through the challenges of the narrative but they don’t require much actual expertise in terms of real world skills in order to save the day.

The hunger games is no different. Katniss is a regular teenage girl who knows how to hunt because of her dad, she enters the hunger games and accidentally starts a revolution, then the adults plan the government takedown offscreen and she comes in and executes.

2. The ideas in the hunger games are for children

So I don’t think the author of the hunger games really had any interest in interrogating the ideas presented by her worldbuilding any deeper than the  weak metaphors depict on the surface.

The most interesting things this franchise has to say is in relation to the dehumanizing nature of the reality television circus and the poisoning effect the 24 hour news cycle has on us.

The rest of the ideas are barely touched on, maybe brought in for a few moments to call attention to them but not truly fleshed out in the narrative.

See the ideas in the hunger games are presented the way you would for children. The set up is established, the characters are set, the metaphor is very clear and obvious and the entire position is explained via premise. Then  no matter what adventure your characters get up to you have about that issue and have no reason to investigate further.

Suzanne collins talks about how she came up with the idea for the hunger games when she connected the idea of child soldiers with reality television, and the resultant idea was televised battle royale at the behest of a fascist government. i would argue the society in the hunger games as portrayed is far less like child soldiers and far more like child gladiators, however this speaks to the way the ideas are dealt with in the story. The children in the story eventually fight battles therefore this book deals with child soldiers. The capitol is a corrupting force therefore the geographically closest areas are the most corrupted and fascist. Most people who work in food and energy production in america are often poor and disenfranchised by the government, therefore lets put them on the outskirts where they arent impacted by the capitals corruption. Nevermind that in the context of the actual authoritarianism those tend to be the groups which have been voting that way. The book covers the  governments effect on low income workers and communities, good enough. Katniss didnt like wearing makeup and shaving her legs, only the corrupted and influenced capitol girls did that stuff. Nevermind that while the requirement of feminine presentation is a form of restriction to devalue all feminine presentation as merely a function of patriarchy is also misogyny but still the book covers toxic makeup and fashion culture. The government in the book is authoritarian so this is a book about authoritarianism. And maybe so, maybe all those things are true, but the book simply doesnt seem to have anything interesting to say about any of its topics beyond a surface level agreement with leftist politics. However the book doesnt go particularly deep on any take outside of “the voyeuristic culture of consuming suffering as content is toxic” This is what makes this a childrens book to me. It is a surface level addressing of a handful of heavy topics but it doesnt go terribly deep in its metaphor or allegory and it doesnt have anything in particular to say about those systems it is addressing outside of they are bad. Which is perfectly fine, for the age group who the novel was intended for. Namely, children. 

So now to my then and now, biggest issue with the hunger games. 

The first hunger game. 

The book starts us off at hunger game 75, thats three generations of people who were raised in this system and its deeply entrenched in the culture. But what about the first, or the second, or the third. How did the government convince people to give up their own children to fight and die on the battlefield. Sure in the book the capitol worships it as sport and the outer districts are managed by military intervention but what about at first, if the hunger games are how they control the populous how did they manage to have a first hunger games. How did they manage to quell a nation of parents when they said we are going to send your children into an arena to fight and die. Every single year. At all levels of privilege in their society. 

And this is the most YA part of the premise. Somewhere down the line, there must have been a generation of parents who just sacrificed theri kids willingly. For there not to have been revolt immediately. This is the conceit of childrens media. For the children to take center stage, for their story to take precedence the adults in the universe must not intervene. And this to me more than anything makes this a kids book. The narrative centers the child characters because the primary readers are children, despite the logical leap required to carry the premise to fruition. 

TL;DR everything about the hunger games is fundamentally for the frame of reference of children. To argue its too dark for children when its entirely fit for a kid point of view is wild.

The thing which makes a book for kids is not the darkness of its themes or plot- but the way in which it handles them.

Authors note: Ok so this is very long and rather unhinged and i didnt edit it whatsoever so hopefully it gives you the authentic rant experience.

#PS. my last complaint #To all the white folks who complained about jennifer lawrence’s casting because suzanne called #katniss olive skinned and then you all patted yourselves on the back for calling out whitewashing? #Yeah ‘olive skinned’ is not brown skinned representation make. Half the time when authors say olive they mean italian or greek. #When collins wanted a character to be a poc she made it clear. No more kudos for half measures like brown hair and olive skin. #nellipusen #lord this is 2000 words.... of unhinged rambling #lord help me if i was trying to be articulate that number would have ballooned to crazy proportions

[wroteonedad]

X (2022)

I hate horror movies. It's never because horror movies have scared me or because of the genre itself, I just find them boring and repetitive. There's never really anything about a horror movie that gives me any type of wow factor. Something about X on the other hand drew me in and I still don't think it's to do with the narrative of the overall movie.

There's sex. Lots of sex. If you ever sit with your family and decide to watch a movie with them, don't let it be this one. If you're anything like me where at my big age I still look away from the sex scenes when I'm watching a film with my dad and pretend I don't know what sex is. It's an awkward film to play out loud anyway, I felt the urge to message my flat and be like 'no I'm not watching porn by the way'. And the sex gets worse at the end of the film because next thing you know you're watching two crumpled skeletons moaning loudly and doing missionary in the dead of the night. The real horror in my eyes.

There's also murder, which we knew was going to happen. It's a horror after all. Some of the murders that took place during the film were brutal, the type of brutal where I would physically have to turn away because I couldn't look at it anymore (Wayne). On the other hand, some of it was dull. I was looking at my screen like yes this is going to happen to this person and she's probably going to be eaten by the alligator. I know there was foreshadowing and it was used effectively, but it was predictable in a number of places and I was left feeling a little bit whelmed by it.

The real saving grace of this film was the cinematography. This is a beautiful film, there are so many shots that are filmed with a chefs kiss. To an extent the way that its filmed also feels like a parody towards RJ (Owen Campbell) where he speaks about how he doesn't want the film to just be porn, he wants it to have a narrative, a deep cut story and he wants it to look beautiful. This is where Lorraine (Jenna Ortega) snaps back by stating people are watching the movie for the tits and ass. It was refreshing to see the film captured through the lens of RJ as well as the mixture of cinematic shots in general.

The development of the characters worked well too, had they not been developed I think this film would be boring when considering there is not a huge plot / narrative. It really is as simple as we went to this house to film a porn movie and we were all slaughtered by the crazy lady and her husband. I grew to like Lorraine more the further the movie went on, the way she went from quiet and mousey to being the outspoken I deserved better character. I wish there was more of a development on Jackson's (Kid Cudi) character, but I also know his device was to be the main man in the porn movie, so they left more character development to other characters.

My absolute favourite part of the movie was RJ crying in the shower in the middle of the night because his girlfriend wanted to sleep with Jackson as part of the movie. His fragile masculinity was showing so bright during that scene and it was laughable. I also developed a love / hate relationship for Pearl (Mia Goth) and Howard (Stephen Ure) the way they seemed like generic white supremacists upon first scenes, just to learn they're crazy mass murderers and Pearl was the crazy horny grandma. Lock them up and throw away the key.

The main reason I watched this film is because I really want to watch Pearl (2022). I've heard some incredible things about the film, however upon a general Google search I quickly came to realise that it was best to watch X before jumping into Pearl because it spoils some of the story from the original film. I will say this to anyone who has not watched the two films yet to watch X first. What have I learned from this movie experience? Never to go to Texas in the 1970s and stay at someone's home that was probably found on Craigslist in case I get brutally murdered for being sexually active.

Overall, I rate this film a solid 3 stars.

You can stream X on Amazon Prime now

#writing #review #x #x review #movie review

[sixeyesgojo]

jjk characters handling your period

Summary: “What do you mean, no baby this month either? Okay, suffer then.” - your damn uterus

Pairings: Gojo/Megumi/Nanami/Naoya/Toji x Reader

Content warning: the monthly bloody nightmare your uterus puts you through and the whole shebang that comes with it, language warning, suggestive themes, explicit warning for Toji (you’ll see why)

A/N: purely self-indulgent because I suffer. @megumifushi and @sukirichi , my gals, I gotcha. Also dedicated to all readers who suffer from the same fate (may it be right now or not). Also: Yes, absolutely open the video I linked in Megumi’s part (it’s safe, I promise).

Gojo Satoru

You turn and turn in bed uncomfortably. Something isn’t right, you think and it’s not the fact that Satoru is missing next to you. Not knowing immediately irritates you. All of a sudden you become painfully aware of your lower region. Yes, of course it had to be that time of the month. You just knew you already stained your panties and perhaps the sheets haven’t been spared either. Getting out of bed, then realizing it was already past noon, you sprinted to the bathroom. Fuck, moving fast was not a good idea. 

Having changed the sheets and your stained panties, you made your way to the kitchen. Your stomach growled, signaling you were hungry, but at the same time you feared. Smelling food, let alone tasting too much of it, was a slippery slope – either your nose would protest or your stomach, no in-between. Regardless, you had to eat; or were you supposed to starve to death because of this? Not in this lifetime. “I AM BACK!” an annoyingly loud voice rang through the apartment. You groan and turn around. “Fuck off, Satoru,” you say. Your irritation flaring up for seemingly no reason. “Stop being so motherfucking loud. My head feels like it’s going to split in two and my pussy is fighting the crimson war right now,” you snarled at him.

“Oh honey, seems like I called the right shots then,” he declared proudly and held up a bag filled with... snacks? “I already called in sick for you for the next few days,” Satoru continued to explain as he wrapped his arms around you, “and I’ll be by your side 24/7 for the next two days. We’ll do fun stuff. How does movie night with lots of cuddling for tonight sound?”

“Why are you so nice to me right now?” you mumbled, tears welling up in your eyes. “Simple: I don’t want to be castrated by you,” he whispered back and planted a kiss on your cheek. “Fair enough. What will we do tomorrow?” He stayed silent but pulled out a black card out of his sleeve. You gasped.

Fushiguro Megumi

Ping. A notification. Quickly, you scrambled to get your phone to see what that was about. You desperately needed some distraction right now. The pain was too much. Your boyfriend Megumi had gone somewhere you didn’t know. All you knew was that your boobs were sore, the sensitive nipples rubbing against the fabric were already too much. In addition to that, you also experienced period cramps, resulting in back pain as well. Life was not easy at the moment but at least you could lay in bed for today, doing absolutely nothing.

Unlocking your phone, you saw a new message from Yuji: “omg look at this???” [Video link] It was a video of 42 seconds. There was a cute seal – probably the cutest and fluffiest seal you have ever seen – and background music. It may have only lasted 42 seconds but it definitely triggered some happy feelings inside you; it was so pure and you loved the energy of the clip. Perhaps these feelings were a bit too intense and overwhelming. Tears streamed down your face and you started sobbing uncontrollably. Why were you like this? It wasn’t even a sad video, was it?

You buried your face in the blankets, weeping as if someone just broke up with you. Through your loud crying, you did not notice the door opening. A jangling noise could be heard from your nightstand. Instantly, you shot up to check for intruders but luckily, it was Megumi. A frown spread on his face. “What happened?” he asked as his thumbs wiped your tears from your cheeks. You showed him the video, still sobbing, “Look at the seal... It’s so c-cute. I just... got emotional because it really t-traveled the world. This cutie deserves the whole world...”

“And so do you,” he bluntly stated, “now take the ibuprofen I brought you for the cramps and rest up.” As a matter of fact, he not only brought you painkillers but a hot water bottle and food as well.

Nanami Kento

“No, give me that. Lay down and rest. I can dust off the shelves on my own,” his deep voice commanded. If there was a man that screamed “male wife” it was definitely Nanami Kento, particularly when it came to you being on your period. You weren’t allowed to do anything in the house, except for very light chores. With good reason. “Kento, I can do–” Yeah, no, it wasn’t possible and Kento knew it too well.

You weren’t lucky when it came to period symptoms. Besides excruciating back pain, extremely sore breasts and headaches, you also had the luck to suffer from dizziness every single time you experienced the monthly nuisance. The first time you even passed out. In fact, it had happened several times. And that was precisely how Kento decided to not let you do anything. Still, you felt bad to leave everything to Kento. His work already demanded so much from him and here you were, being babied and even spoon-fed. You didn’t even have to cook your own meals or wash and iron laundry.

You had barely said those words when the unwelcome whirling sensation took you over again. Your feet wobbled, you were in danger of crashing to the ground. In a flash, Kento was by your side to steady you. “I told you not to overdo it.” He cupped your cheek with his warm hand. “Sorry, Kento. I’ll... just rest for a minute.”

Zenin Naoya

Period pain? Laughable. Naoya thought it was pathetic. A woman – these already weak creatures – having period symptoms was a mystery to him. What could possibly hurt about bleeding a little? He couldn’t understand. Your pitiable and sorry state was only another inconvenience to him. Not that you hindered him in any way – you were obedient enough to be quiet and complain as little as possible – but he absolutely despised seeing that annoying expression of pain on your face every time he had to look at it.

Hell, he didn’t even want to engage in sexual activities with you during that time, even though he had randomly picked up somewhere that it might help. Not that he wanted to help you, it was your problem and yours only, not his. “Stop looking at me with those eyes. It’s disgusting,” he remarked condescendingly as he got dressed for wherever he had to go. “When will you be back?” you croaked out but he totally ignored you.

“Women are so damn weak. It’s so fucking pathetic, I almost want to give you a hug,” Naoya gagged. He was about to leave the room but stopped in his tracks. Looking over his shoulder, he caught a glimpse of your face that was contorted with pain. In long strides, he made it to one of the cabinets, fished out a tiny box and threw it on the bed. “Tsk, you better get well soon so you can serve me again, dumb bitch.”

Fushiguro Toji (soft)

Work hadn’t been treating him kindly: not yesterday, not today, not ever. Although he was highly capable and never failed to exceed himself, all Toji truly wanted to do was to go home. When he finally made it through the door, he called out, “Am home.” Usually, you would come running to greet him but when nothing but silence greeted him, his hand instantly moved to the cursed creature lingering on his shoulder. It was suspicious. Did enemies manage to find this hideout? Where were you? His hands started sweating.

Stealthily, he approached the kitchen. To his surprise, he saw your form in front of the counter, hunched over in pain. Dropping his offensive stance immediately, he quickly strode over to check on you. “Hey, what are you doing there?” he asked, hesitatingly putting a hand on your shoulder. You looked at him, grimacing with pain, “Oh, Toji. I didn’t realize you were home yet. Sorry, I’m not done cooking dinner yet, I just feel so nauseous, exhausted and my entire back  and shoulders hurt so much. It’s so sore.” “I see.” He nodded, understanding what was happening. Suddenly, he lifted you effortlessly. You squealed, “Toji!! What are you doing?!” “Taking care of you,” he promised. “But dinner!” “Don’t care.”

Making his way to the bedroom, Toji laid down with you on top of him. Something about his warmth already made you feel better but as his large palms rubbed your back in circular motions, you felt as if you were in heaven. Toji’s ministrations soothed the pain so well, you almost let out a moan. Now that the pain didn’t overshadow all the other symptoms anymore, the drowsiness took over. “Toji, ‘m tired,” you mumbled; eyelids fluttering already. “Then sleep. I’ll take care of dinner later,” he whispered. You only hummed in response, already far too gone. Slowly but surely, his steady heartbeat lulled you to sleep. “Sleep tight.”

Taglist: @megumifushi​ @gojos-mochi​ @assbuttbaek​ @bleueluna​ 

#gojo x reader #megumi x reader #nanami x reader #naoya x reader #toji x reader #gojo satoru #fushiguro megumi #nanami kento #zenin naoya #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen naoya #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #tw: period talk #tw: periods #tw: menstruation

[incarnateirony]

This isn’t even really my personal take or what I personally plan to do, but seeing fandom unironically play itself on engagement time and time and time again, maybe this will break through to some people.

So you’re big mad about SPN! I might be relatively at peace with it, but you’re not! That’s fine. Allow me to actually help you guys learn how to send a message that doesn’t end up with the business team sitting smugly!

There was a nonnie a few weeks back that told me I was ~arrogant~ for telling them to stop engaging the content. Something about privilege. What Nonnie lacks perspective on-- on most social media platforms, any engagement is good engagement.

I’m using tumblr as the platform to even send this out because it’s the least important among social media platforms. It doesn’t clock on, say, Nielsen, and it’s ad space is relatively laughable despite trying to clean up its image. 

But just like I told everyone for the last two years, and just like the suit ridiculously preached to me as if I hadn’t already been preaching it: to them, all engagement is good engagement.

There’s nothing you can do this late to change anything. What you CAN do is send a message to the wigs by letting them know they seriously fucked up their demographics and understanding of a product.

That means stop using the hashtags on prime media. Don’t #SPN or #Supernatural. Don’t even talk about SPN or Supernatural hashtag or not. Don’t engage them. Don’t argue with them. Don’t even complain about them. I know it’s really, really tempting, but on a marketing level /that shit still benefits them./

I know people think they’re making some kind of Statement(TM) by ranting on and on and on and fucking ON about Supernatural for years at a time, but it’s still engagement. All you really accomplish is getting relative keywords and ideas blacklisted alongside the shit you’re constantly bitching about. If they’re getting engagement and discussion (good) but it’s constantly attached to one group of people or idea that is starting to become too aggressive, that group is now a blacklist group.

I have been trying to teach people this for years but nobody has wanted to listen and kept digging fuckin’ holes. But maybe, just MAYBE, now that the show is over, you can stop.

Don’t tune into channels re-airing it.

Don’t stream any services. Cancel any related subscriptions.

Don’t look it up on youtube (yes, I’m aware that means even my channel will suffer), don’t watch reaction videos, don’t go to articles that talk about it.

Don’t even breathe about it. It doesn’t exist. 

If you absolutely MUST buy yourself a copy of it, go to places like second hand book stores that sell DVDs, because the resale doesn’t go to them but it’s still a legally purchased product.

Get everybody you know to do the same. Spread this by word of mouth on other platforms that DON’T benefit them in any way: tell your friends in discord to adopt the habit, tell your friends in DM.

As it is even tumblr isn’t *totally* useless to them for PR, it’s still engagement, it’s just not as... important? And this sentiment needs to be posted somewhere to get it out there, so it’s the best go.

I’ll tell you what *doesn’t* hurt them at all: people engaging the content, positive or negative, for all eternity. Congrats, you’re part of the PR machine.

All y’all really do, doing that, is hurt each other. And they don’t care.

Welcome to marketing. It’s machiavellian, but it’s how things work.

So if you actually plan to like. Make an impact instead of make noise. Actually just. Stop making noise. Entirely.

#pr #marketing #supernatural #spn #blackout

[delicrieux]

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”. 

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing.  word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie​:  y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!” 

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

queen rly went from  🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing. 

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.” 

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live 

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜 

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall. 

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets. 

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout. 

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times  u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #myso #make you say oh #imagine #imagines

[inkykeiji]

Many sad thoughts running through my head but I can imagine Dabi having trust issues as you and the other anon saying. Him being afraid of getting left behind. I feel like he would say “I didn’t mean to say I love you” at some point because that’s a type of vulnerable he doesn’t want to be but it’s just one of many thoughts

AHHHHHHHH anon anon why must u hurt me like this?????? pls my whole heart just broke at this and i uhhhhh wrote 1.7k words about it,,,

❅ cw: soft dabi, angst, rly sappy ❅

It seems to happen at the most random of times. It isn’t like the movies, isn’t ever after some profound incident or momentous occurrence shared between the two of you—no, it’s always right after the most mundane things; after he catches you brushing your teeth in a cute matching set of panties and a tank top, sticking out your tongue at him, mouth full of foamy white toothpaste; after he finds you curled up on the couch buried under a fluffy blanket, nothing more than a lump and a head as your eyes rapidly scan the pages of the book in front of you, entirely absorbed in whatever world it’s built for you; after he walks into the kitchen to see you by the sink washing a few dishes, hips swaying and head nodding as you hum along to whatever song is blasting through your headphones.

But God, does it hit him like a motherfucking bus every single time, punches him in the stomach without warning, knocks the breath straight out of him.

He’s usually good at keeping it to himself, usually able to swallow it back down when those three little words begin to creep up his throat, dancing on the back of his tongue and restricting his breathing.

But eventually, he messes up.

You had started it, right after you had finished sprinkling the pizza stone with some flour while he was rolling out the dough, wiping your powdery fingers down his t-shirt, then swiping a thumb across his cheekbone, leaving a streak of white flour painted in its path, a little mischievous smile on your face and glint in your eyes.

He retaliates immediately, grabbing a pinch of flour from the bag and flicking it right in your face.

“Dabi!” you gasp, but your shoulders are shaking with silent laughter as you wipe at your face, fingers only managing to leave more strokes of the substance instead of clearing it. Your hand dives into the bag, grasping a handful of flour, inhaling deeply—enough to expand your entire chest—before blowing air out of your mouth, casting tiny, thick explosions of white at him, speckling his shirt and dusting his inky hair.

“Oh, you little brat,”

And, fuck, you look so goddamn beautiful, giggles ringing out around the room, flour strewn in your messy, tousled hair, smears of it across your cheeks and neck, sprinkled on your clothes, eyes bright and breathing laboured with exhilaration as you daintily leap away from him.

They’re bubbling up in his chest, those three stupid little words, climbing up, up, up his throat to settle on his tongue, light and sweet, floating in his mouth like candy floss and melting on his tongue only to be resurrected by another one of your giggles, or playful yelps, or squeals of his name.

And he’s too preoccupied to remember to swallow them down, to chew and chomp on them until he’s crushed them into a thousand tiny pieces as he chases you around the kitchen while you throw clouds of flour at each other, too enraptured by the soft, cute, precious sounds he’s endlessly pulling from you, too hellbent on hearing more, a man possessed.

Because he hasn’t laughed like this in ages, isn’t sure he’s ever laughed like this in his entire life, and they just slip out, when he finally catches you, chest heaving a bit from the thrill of it all as large hands curl around your shoulders.

“God, I love you,”

They’re muttered softly, just a huff of breath, really, blanketed by his laughs and yours, and you nearly miss them.

Nearly.

And then, everything stops. Your laughs abruptly cut off, and he wishes he’d have missed the sharp intake of breath you inhale through your mouth, lips parted slightly, wide eyes staring at him as your body freezes up, going rigid in his grasp, feet fused to the floor.

He stops, too, lets go of you so quickly you’d think your skin burnt his palms through the thin material of your shirt, sapphire eyes growing wide—wider than you’ve ever seen them before—as his mind catches up with his mouth, stumbling a few steps back from you.

He wants to say something, anything, but his voice is caught in his chest, fading into pathetic squeaks of breath any time he tries to force a few words out. And it aches, heart pounding almost painfully against his ribcage, breathing shallow—almost ceased completely—as he stares unblinking at you, sharp, tingling anxiety flooding his veins.

And you—well, you’re staring at him with this look in your eyes, something that he can’t decipher, and it makes his stomach lurch. It’s a look he’s never seen before, your eyes shining as you gaze at him, almost glittering as you stare at him, unmoving, unbreathing, unexplainable. Are you upset? Angry? Disgusted? Stunned? A combination of all four? None at all?

The fact that he can’t tell, that he doesn’t know, when he prides himself on being able to read others so insanely well, ignites flames of anger that alight his entire body, right to the tips of his fingers and his toes, blazing straight through the anxiety and simmering in his chest, eyes hardening as they glare back at you.

A beat passes, your ears ringing from the thick, tense silence draped over the room, and then he’s pushing past you roughly with a choked snarl that sounds a little like a mix between a sob and a growl, and storming out of the kitchen.

He’s cut off all communication entirely, has been ignoring you for a few days now, only leaving his bedroom out of absolute necessity and refusing to answer any of your countless texts that have been collecting on his lockscreen, refusing to even touch his phone. He doesn’t want to see what you have to say, desperately tries to convince himself that he doesn’t care, that he isn’t scared of what your messages might reveal, isn’t terrified of that impending rejection he’s so sure is lurking on the horizon.

But there’s only so long he can keep avoiding you before you finally catch him in the kitchen, just past three in the morning, fixing himself a late-night snack.

“Oh, thank God,”

He whirls around at the sound of your voice, cobalt eyes gaping for a moment before narrowing into sharp slits an instant later.

“Dabi, listen—”

“No,” he growls, eyes flashing. “You listen, I don’t want to fucking talk about it, alright?”

Leaping in front of him, you block his path, prohibiting him from leaving the kitchen and speaking quickly. “Yeah? Well I do!”

“I don’t care,” he spits viciously, the ache throbbing deep in his chest—at the very core of his body—reminding him otherwise. “There’s nothing to talk about, anyway! It’s not like I meant them,”

And that—that gets you to stop, tripping a little over your own feet as you stumble back like he’s physically slapped you, a soft, hurt little whimper getting caught in the back of your throat as tears rapidly pool in your eyes, blurring your vision.

“Wh-What?”

He glares down at you, molars grinding together as his nose twitches.

I didn’t mean to say I love you.

What a pathetic fucking sentence—it’s almost laughable, the corners of his lips quirking up in a sardonic little grin. Your breath hitches, and his shoulders tense at the sound.

‘You aren’t supposed to know I love you’ is much more accurate, his mind sneers at him. Coward. Fucking coward.

“I didn’t mean it,” he says, though his voice is beginning to quiver, trembling hands curling into tight fists in an effort to stop it, short nails biting into the flesh of his palm as the skin stretched taut over his knuckles turns bone white.

“Didn’t mean what?” you whisper, glistening tears finally spilling over and streaming down your cheeks, leaving gleaming trails of salt water behind them. “Say it, Dabi,”

He’s got his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head, knows if he opens them, if he looks at you, that he’ll break, shatter into a thousand pieces, split himself open at the very core of his body and bare his entire soul to you.

“Look at me,” you demand softly.

His jaw flexes once, slowly exhaling out his nose.

“Dabi, look at me,” a pause. “Please?”

“No.”

“W-Why?” the word escapes your lips in a little whine, broken up by your sniffles.

You know why.

But it’s those little half-sobs, the ones that keep catching painfully in your chest, that do it, interspersed with your soft whimpers as you plead with him—please, open your eyes, just look at me for a second, please!

Unable to stand it any longer, his lids finally rise, slowly revealing sparkling sapphire, glowering at you, his harsh gaze protected by a thin shield of water.

He hates this, hates not having control over his own fucking body, over his own fucking thoughts, hates the unfamiliarity of it all, of the unpleasant fluttering in his stomach and burning in his throat, swallowing thickly past the hard lump that’s formed, constricting his breathing.

Revolting, his inner voice snarls at him. You’re weak, letting some stupid little girl get to you like this, as if you even—

Your touch silences the voice, cutting it off midsentence, his whole body flinching at the soft, small hand resting so tenderly against the curve of his face, subconsciously nuzzling his cheek into your palm a second later, eyes slipping shut again.

“Dabi,” you begin, and something has changed. You no longer sound hurt, no longer sound wounded, your voice gentle and—

No. No, no, no, this can’t be happening to him right now. Panic grips his heart, puncturing it with its claws, sending blistering, sharp pain searing through his chest and slicing him open, raw and vulnerable.

“Please, don’t,” he whispers, words tumbling from his lips without his permission, voice frail, fragile, broken.

Don’t. He doesn’t want to hear them, doesn’t need to hear them, can’t bear to hear them—not if they’re false, fake, uttered out of misplaced pity and sympathy.

“I love you, too,”

A pathetic hiccup gets caught in his throat and he chokes on it, chest stuttering as he shakes his head, lids clenching tightly against the unfamiliar sting of tears, lips pressed together firmly to stifle the tiny distressed sounds that keep crawling up his throat, trying to escape.

There’s no way, she’s lying, how could she ever—

“Yes,” you whisper, thumb caressing his jaw. “I love you, too,”

#dabi x reader #dabi #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya #dabi angst #dabi fluff #???? just BARELY #TW SOFT DABI #AHHHHHH anon i am screaming endlessly into the void #sweet anon 🥺 #clari gets mail

[nazukisser]

➥ synopsis; replacing the screen protector on your phone ➥ pairings; sengoku shinobu x gn!reader, kanzaki souma x gn!reader, hakaze kaoru x fem!reader and male!reader (separately) ➥ genre/type: fluff hcs + drabbles ➥ message from qian: a challenge! Random generator picked 3 random chars for me <3

sengoku shinobu ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

shinobu isn't the best at technology, so if you're good at replacing the screen protector, you're better off doing it yourself. but don't worry! he's there to support you all the way, and if you mess up, that's okay.

if you're terrible at it (when it comes to hardware, me too) he'll attempt to do it himself. not that it'd go smoothly- but it'll all work out in the end. if necessary, kanata can always help. mysterious solutions from a mysterious man, perhaps.

if he's doing it, he's absolutely focused. he's so careful with it, and he's actually better at pressing down the plastic better than you'd think. (it's actually hard guys)

"Shinobu, can you help me?" you looked up, searching for him from your seat. "Yes! Sengoku Shinobu is here to help!" he appeared seemingly out of nowhere; perhaps he'd been working on his ninja skills. "I need to put a new screen protector on my phone but it's kind of hard for some reason..." you hand him the instructions. "I can handle it, don't worry!" he was ecstatic to help, as always.

He mumbles to himself a little as he reads it, then picks up the screen protector and puts it on your phone. He's very careful about it; if there's a few things he's learned that are important, being careful and patient is one of them.

"And its done!" He flashed a smile as he showed you the phone.

Kanzaki Souma˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Souma is absolutely horrid at technology, please do not ask him for help. In the case that you... somehow forget that, he will try his best.

he's actually so confused- he tries to follow the instructions but it's a little hard. He's much better with the sword, and the impulse to slash it with a sword comes in. (he doesn't do that, but as he tries, he really feels like it. the rage comes in sometimes, you know)

He might end up wasting more than a couple as he continues trying... please stop him. He will insist on continuing to try and please appreciate the effort he puts into this, but he's simply not the right person for this.

Honestly, call Kuro and he'll be there to help.

"Souma, can you help me for a moment?" you call from the kitchen. You were struggling to replace the screen protector on your phone; it was so much harder than it was supposed to be.

"I will try my best."

It was his usual, and his best- absolutely horrifying. You couldn't tell exactly how he managed to break one of them- and that was when you remembered just how bad he was at technology. The bubbles under the protector just wouldn't go away, and perhaps it was a defect... maybe you should've just asked for Kuro to help you.

Hakaze Kaoru˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

if you're a girl, this guy asks if you need any help before you know if you need help. He wants to take this opportunity to help; this man needs to chill with the service sometimes.

the moment you do ask for help instead of him asking you if he could help, he tells you that he was born for this and absolutely, he will help you

it's laughable because there's a high chance he'll mess up at the first try and get embarrassed, because that bubble, you know

but, he'll get it by around the second time, it's okay. tell him that he's not an expert at this and it's okay to mess up in front of someone not his gender

but if you're a guy, he's like "oh, fine, I'll do it for you," :weary: (he likes helping you, but he's in denial) Even if you laugh at him, he'll keep going until he gets it- with no bubble under the screen protector.

Sorry but no drabble for Kaoru because the formatting is weird when it's too imbalanced like that, feel free to request them, it'll be first on the priority list

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ ꒰ ⌨ ✰ qian ⁱˢ ᵗʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ··· ꒱ | ೃ࿔₊•

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