#someone already sent one that I will Not be answering

[pholla-jm]

I feel like Sukuna is the type to have a daughter with her mom's angelic looks and her father's power and personality haha. Can I ask for some cute scenarios of them please? 🙏

Hello! This was such a cute idea! I couldn't think of anything good, but I came up with some stuff. However, if I do come up with more, I'll definitely tag you!

Like Daughter, Like Father

IMAGINE: LIKE DAUGHTER, LIKE FATHER GENRE: FLUFF cw: not proof read. mention of blood and killing *****************

Everyone thinks that Sukuna would have a son, and spend most of his time with his son. 

However, the universe decided to bless him with a daughter instead. 

And she definitely took her mom’s looks. An exact copy and paste. 

Like an angel sent straight down to heaven. If you took one look at her, she looked so innocent and peaceful. 

However, anyone that spent time with her knew that she was just like her daddy. 

In fact, you knew that she was going to be such a daddy’s girl when she said her first word. Well, more like shouted. 

Sukuna was about to leave to walk around another village, leaving you and your daughter at the castle. 

You could tell that she was getting upset by her wiggling movements and grabby hands towards her father. However, that didn’t really stop Sukuna. What came out of your daughter's mouth next definitely made him stop. 

“Daddy!” She shouts and Sukuna stops. His body was slightly tense, like he was processing what he just heard. 

His little girl, shouting his name. Almost like she was beckoning him over. His brain was telling him that no one tells him what to do. But his heart and body was telling him something different. He couldn’t just walk away from his child. 

He turns around, a bit surprised with the look on her face. 

Her eyebrows were furrowed, lips turned into a pout and she was glaring at him. 

“Awe, you said your first words.” You coo at her. “Daddy.” She says again, but more stern. “Ooh, sounds like someone is mad.” You start to tease. 

Sukuna rolls his eyes and walks back over to you and his daughter. He takes her from you, her body being enveloped in his arms. Any child would probably be scared to be held by him. But she wanted it. She wanted to stick right by his side. 

“Daddy.” She says again. “Tch, what do you want, brat?” 

Her glare just hardens and you laugh.

“Oh, this is too good. Looks like you’re spending the day with her.” 

You were amused with how much your daughter is like Sukuna. She always sported a serious look on her face and she glared at every single person that she didn’t know. Sure, she took your looks. But she stole his whole personality. 

“Huh?” Sukuna looks at you a bit shocked as you start to leave the room. 

“Make sure to bring her back alive.” Your daughter wasn’t even paying attention to you as you left. All of her attention is on her daddy, already planning on how to make his life harder. 

***********

“Where is that brat?” Sukuna mumbles as he walks through the hallways. His steps were a bit faster than usual, as he looked for his daughter. She for some reason thought it was a good idea to play hide n seek even though Sukuna said no. 

However, she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Now Sukuna is slightly stressed out as he looks for the tiny half human/curse. 

“If you don’t come out, your mother is going to kill me.” 

It was silent for a couple of minutes, and then he heard the teeny tiny patter of feet coming towards him. 

He turns around, looking down at his daughter. 

His eyes widened seeing that she was covered in red. His brain immediately goes to the worst. He walks up to her, bending down to her level. 

“Kill?” She repeats. “Yes. Kill. Something that your mother is going to do if you did something bad.” He mumbles as he inspects her for any cuts or wounds.

He was relieved seeing that it wasn’t her blood. His thumb smudges at one of the red stains, bringing it to his mouth. “Cranberries?” 

“Cwanbewies.” She repeats with a large smile on her face. 

Sukuna lets out a sigh of relief. “Where did you even get cranberries?” 

“Kitchen.” Sukana nods his head. “Wait, how did you get in there? What about the servants?” 

She’s silent for a moment, like she's thinking about her answer. “Kill.” She says.

“You kill?” He asks and she nods her head with a proud look on her face. 

She didn’t exactly know how to communicate that the servant got in the way of her cranberries. She just simply got rid of the obstacle. 

Sukuna looks down and sees that there is indeed blood staining the bottom of her yukuta. Sukuna smiles, proud of her actions. 

Then, you popped into his head. You were the exact opposite of these two. And he already knows that you would not be happy. 

“Okay, don’t tell mom.” “Tell mom?” “No.” “I tell mom.” “I just said no.” “Mom!” “Shut it!” “No, you.” 

Sukuna covers her mouth, his hand covering most of her face. He stands up, picking her up in the process. He looks around, looking for any sign of you. 

He was relieved that you didn’t hear what was going on. 

“Listen. You don’t say a word, and I’ll get you your favorite chocolate.”  Her eyes lit up and she nodded her head. “Alright, good. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #oneshot #sukuna fluff #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[pomefioredove]

Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…

So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse

Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good

Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!

ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3

summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it

Jamil Viper

Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.

That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.

Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.

It's a bit strange, isn't it?

Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.

He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.

But that sense of unease doesn't go away.

He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.

And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.

"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."

You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.

"Thank you," you mumble.

You can't think of anything else to say.

"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.

"I'm fine,"

Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.

"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.

"I've... had a rough day,"

Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"

He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.

"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."

You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"

It.

What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.

"Did something happen?"

You hesitate.

"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"

Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.

He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.

But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.

"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"

"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."

He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.

He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.

"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"

Unlike me, he thinks.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"

Like me.

You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.

A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

"Thank you, Jamil,"

He hugs back. "Of course,"

Ruggie Bucchi

It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.

You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.

Ruggie included.

He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.

He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.

And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.

Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?

He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.

Sigh.

"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.

Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"

"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."

The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.

"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.

"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"

You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.

You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"

"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."

The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"

"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"

Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.

"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"

"Did you find it?"

"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"

You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.

After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"

"What?"

"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"

You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.

Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"

"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"

"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"

He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"

"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"

You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.

And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He struggles to respond for a moment.

"That's rough,"

Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.

"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."

"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."

He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"

The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.

"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"

Leona Kingscholar

Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.

Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...

But that didn't bother him. Not at all.

As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.

That plan lasts about five hours.

"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"

That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.

And it's getting closer.

"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."

Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.

"I'm trying,"

This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.

"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"

Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.

He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.

"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."

"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"

This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.

You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"

"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"

"This is-"

"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.

"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"

Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"

"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."

You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?

"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.

"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"

"Your... offer...?"

Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"

"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"

He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."

Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.

"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."

Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"

"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."

"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.

As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"

"Are you alright?" he asks.

Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"

"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"

"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"

Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.

"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"

You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"

He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"

Floyd Leech

Of course, he can tell something's up right away.

Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.

His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?

Now this catches his attention.

"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.

"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."

"But you're not,"

"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"

Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.

"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"

"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"

Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.

"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"

"Why?"

There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.

"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"

He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"

"FLOYD!"

He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.

When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.

"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."

You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"

"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.

Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"

"Are they ill?"

You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"

"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"

Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"

"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.

Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.

"Now will you tell me?"

"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"

Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"

"Tell me about it,"

"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"

You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"

"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."

"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.

His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"

His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"

"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"

"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"

His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.

You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"

"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"

You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"

Rollo Flamme

Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.

The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.

The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?

They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.

He loathed being talked down to.

Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.

And now you're just quiet.

"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

You shrug.

"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"

No response at all.

Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.

"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"

"No,"

A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.

"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"

That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"

He struggles for the right words.

How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.

Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.

Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?

He couldn't quite come up with an answer.

"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."

"It's not your fault,"

"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"

A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.

"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.

Another pause.

"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jamil viper x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #floyd leech x reader #rollo flamme x reader #can't believe this is the first time I've written for rollo on this blog... bby I've missed u

[space-noods]

Boss Gojo Imagines

Boss! Gojo who has had flings with every assistant he’s had.

Boss! Gojo who as the CEO of the company was raised to be very weary of letting anyone close to him. Although he would bed many women, he had only a few he called friends.

Boss! Gojo who fired his last assistant after their short term rendezvous and is in need of a new one.

Boss! Gojo who, whilst procrastinating, decides he will conduct the interviews himself. He reasons that it would be easier to test the new secretary himself. See if they could maintain a professional relationship.

Boss! Gojo is tired going through the numerous interviews. Each person was qualified, many over qualified. But they were all boringgg.

Boss! Gojo who was about to resign for the day, until you showed up. Like your competitors, you wore a bright smile and held an impressive resume. Unlike them, you were nonchalant; as if you were meeting with a friend rather than competing for a highly coveted position in the elite Gojo company.

Boss! Gojo who was surprised at how easy the conversation flowed between the two of you. So much so, that he had spent at least 30 more minutes with you than every other applicant.

Boss! Gojo who can’t stop himself from asking,

“How are you so confident you’re going to get the job?”

You looked past him, scrunching your nose thinking.

“I’m not confident at all. Honestly, I only applied on a whim. I guess since I have no hope, I have nothing to lose, right?

This type of thinking was such a breathe of fresh air for him. In the rigid society he was born to, every action had to calculated. Every conversation meticulously planned out. Nothing was organic. Nothing was natural. And here you were, smiles and all, taking a chance without considering the risk.

You had an email for you that same day.

Boss! Gojo who isn’t surprised by your work ethic. Anyone who made it so far into the application process was a a good worker. But he was surprised about your energy. You managed to maintain a positive and almost carefree vibe despite the stress and tribulations.

At first, he was obviously drawn to your personality, but what really impacted him, was how quick you acclimated to him and his personality. By the end of the month, you had learned his favorite snacks, how he likes his coffee (if it could be considered coffee after how much sugar is put into it), and his habits. When he felt clingy, you let him cling to you. When he felt withdrawn, you gave him space. It felt like you were made for him. This was the first time in a while someone was so attentive to him. The first time in a while where he felt seen.

Boss! Gojo who treats you like a hidden snack. Anytime he’s overloaded with work, he’ll seek you out to indulge in your sweetness.

Boss! Gojo who demands you meet with him once an hour. He claims that it’s for check-ins, but really he just wants to see you.

Boss! Gojo who was already an affectionate and touchy person. This has somehow doubled when you started working. He would use you as an arm rest, lay his head on your shoulder, hold you by your waist. Anything to get his hands on you. You were like an actual plush toy to him. Any time you two had to attend meetings, you would be confused as his girlfriend instead of his secretary.

When Shoko first saw you and him, she had assumed that you two had already hooked up. She was pleasantly surprised to hear Satoru deny the claim. When she questioned if he’s been having any sex recently, the loving gaze he sent your way was enough of an answer for her. It was weird. In just a couple months, you had changed Satoru completely. She even noticed that the two of you were on first name basis. When you walked back, you had a cocktail in hand for yourself and a mocktail for Gojo. Shoko couldn’t help but roll her eyes at how intimately you two behaved.

Boss! Gojo who secretly started increasing your wage. While you never complained about your finances, he was aware of your recent graduation and history of low wage jobs. He wanted to make sure that this would be the best paying job you’ve had. Not only would it make you happier, it would also make you less likely to quit.

Boss! Gojo who hates seeing you tired, but can’t stop himself from forcing you to work overtime. Especially when you both would fall asleep in the office. Waking up to see you was the greatest feeling in the world. Unfortunately, the extreme guilt of making you work overtime would weigh heavy on him, so he would forced you to go home.

Boss! Gojo who seethes seeing how close you’ve gotten with the other workers. The same charismatic nature that attracted him was now attracting others. And he hated that too.

Boss! Gojo who demands you start eating lunch at his office. To make up for the ‘inconvenience’ he buys the most extravagant and excessive lunches. You often get sent home with all the leftovers.

Boss! Gojo who has become inseparable from you. Your office was moved into his, you would join him on every retreat. Sometimes he would even send you accessories so that you could match with him. Your phone and his sharing a matching home screen.

When he first started showering you with presents, you denied them excessively. As the days went on, you would accept them and return them by the end of the day. Satoru would, of course return it to your desk, only to find it in his own the next morning. The game of give and return would go on for days until he had you walk into his office where he would put the necklace/ accessory in you and pour until you finally accept it.

He was immensely endeared to you when he found a homemade phone chain on his desk with a little note. He was almost start struck when he saw you had a matching one. This snowballed into a fascination with matching between him and you.

Boss! Gojo who notices immediately when you don’t show up for work one day. Instead of you sitting pretty at your desk, it was Ijichi. Now don’t get Gojo wrong, he also likes Ijichi. But not seeing you there was almost painful. His entire schedule and demeanor relied on you. On your smile, your banter, your everything. He needed you. At these thoughts, Satoru felt a burning pain right where his heart was. Why was he acting like this. Why have you made him so dependent? All at once, the memories of everything he did with you flooded his brain. The matching, the jokes, the smiles. He was undeniably obsessed with you.

Gojo Satoru was in love with his secretary.

Epilogue

During his epiphany, you sent him a little text explaining your absence, you had randomly gotten sick over the weekend and couldn’t make it to work. You asked him not to worry and that you would be better by tomorrow. By the time you sent that second text in, Satoru had already put you in for a week of absence and was making his way to your house, hands full of medication and sweets.

_________________________________________________

Notes:

Thanks everyone for reading! This was the winner of the poll! I hope everyone enjoys it! I’m not an amazing writer and I really struggle keeping things concise lol so I hope this wasn’t a total snooze fest.

I know when relationships like Boss and worker are written about, they tend to be a lot… steamier for lack of a better word. I really did try, but I also really liked the childish swooning thing Satoru had going on. Idk maybe one day I’ll try again 🤔

Not edited btw! Pls ignore any small mistakes!

#jjk x y/n #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk x reader #x reader #reader insert #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #drabble #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk shoko #imagine

[mikkomacko]

a request for mob boss Nico, is there ever a time where the boys call y/n for help because they trusted her and didn’t want to upset Nico?

Oh definitely it happens all the time. They use her to soften up blows to Nico when they mess up or help clean them up if things get out of hand.

The first time they realized they could call her though was when her baby Holtzy needed help

——————————————————————

Alex Holtz joined the Devs after he got into legal trouble back home and reached out to Jesper for help. He had been disowned by his family and was living on the streets, and he made a mistake that was gonna haunt him forever now that he was aging out of being a juvenile. So Nico and Jesper brought him in, sent out the private jet and moved him to Jersey where he moved into a loft with the Hughes boys.

Bad idea off the bat but they’re all young and Nico thought they’d click (They do, a little too well).

Late on a Friday, you and Nico were sprawled out on the living room floor with piles of Lego pieces between you. You were racing to see who could build their set the fastest, not that it mattered because there was no real prize, but you two loved the competition.

Nico was finishing up one of the succulents on his set when a ringing phone interrupted the romcom you’d put on the background. Assuming it was work phone based on the hour, you went about your business until Nico fumbled with his silent phone and looked at you in confusion.

“S’yours baby.” He catches your attention, and you look over to the coffee table where you left your phone. Sure enough it’s vibrating across the glass, the screen lit up with Alex’s name.

Quickly, you grab the phone and slide to answer.

“Hi Holtzy, you ok?”

Immediately you know something is wrong. You can hear it in his breath, how it shakes and quivers. And you can hear the frantic voices in the background, whatever boys he went out with tonight obviously panicking.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah, I’m here. What’s the matter?”

By now Nico is on his knees, watching you with concern. You can tell he’s ready to jump up and run, to fix whatever is going on. But Alex didn’t call him, he called you.

“I-something happened,” his voice is small and weak through the speaker and it makes your chest ache. “I didn’t mean to, I just-“

He’s cut off by a sob, one so shattering you can feel it in your own chest. “Ok, it’s ok. You wanna tell me where you are? I’m gonna come get you, ok?”

“Nico will be mad, he won’t want you here. I shouldn’t have-“

“Alex, he doesn’t care. We care about you, kid. Tell me where you are and I’m gonna fix it, ok?”

And Alex has always been good at responding to authoritative tones, better than any of the other boys that are his age. But he’s let down a lot of grown up’s in his life and you know how scared he is to do that to you and Nico.

He mumbles out an address not too far from the loft, telling you he’s in the lot out back with Jack and Luke.

“Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

Alex sniffles, chokes back another cry. “No, no drive safely. I can be ok.”

“I’ll be there in ten, don’t move and don’t touch anything ok? Unless someone’s gonna hurt you, you stay put.”

Mumbling his agreement, you tell him you’ll see him soon and hang up. Nico, having picked up on the conversation, has already collected the keys to the Range Rover and his gun, his feet tucked into his shoes.

“Where are we going?” He asks you and you pull on a jacket and shoes. Taking the pocketknife he holds out to you, you tuck into your pants.

“I’ll give directions.”

~~~~

Whatever Alex and the Hughes boys had been doing, they ended up outside an abandoned factory in a lot that is closed off.

Not that it stopped them seeing as the gate has been pried open and Nico is able to drive into the gravel covered lot.

You can see the Hughes boys kneeling over something on the sidewalk, barely illuminated by the street light. Alex is sitting a few feet away, curled into himself against the brick wall of the building. Before Nico can even stop the car, you’re jumping out.

Whatever scold Nico shouts after you is lost.

Jack and Luke look up at you helplessly when you jog up to them, panic stricken in the poor light. It only takes you a second to see why.

There’s a man under them, one that’s strangling out breathes and covered in blood. He doesn’t appear to be awake, but you realize the two brothers are both pressing their hands into the wound on his abdomen.

“Oh fuck,” you mumble, crouching down to feel for the man’s pulse. It’s weak, but it’s there so you rise again, wipe the blood on your finger onto your pants.

“Keep holding, I’ll be right back.”

Jack and Luke call after you but you don’t hear them. You’re too busy approaching Alex, sinking down to your knees in front of him. He doesn’t lift his head out of his hands until you gently touch his knees.

The sight of him almost has you in tears. His eyes are red and puffy, cheeks splotchy from crying and he’s matted his hair with the blood that was on his hands.

Somehow, he looks even younger than he actually is.

“Alex, are you ok? Are you bleeding?”

He shakes his head, a fresh set of tears streaming down his face. “I don’t know what happened, one minute we were joking around and then he was talking shit and shoving Luke and I-“

“You did what you had to,” you assure him, reaching for his hands. “You were protecting family, Alex and that’s what we do.”

You stroke over his knuckles, nod along as he tells you about how he just went blank, he was so angry he couldn’t even see anything and then the man was bleeding and they didn’t know what to do.

So Jack dragged him into the empty lot and told him to call Nico. He couldn’t though, he couldn’t let Nico know that he messed up so badly already.

You wait for him to finish talking, push his hair off his forehead. “It’s ok, it’s ok,” you assure him. “You did exactly what you were supposed to. You were smart and you were quick, and you protected Luke.”

“Nico told us to protect you,” he mumbles sadly “I shouldn’t have brought you into this but he’s so scary sometimes. What if he sends me back?”

You squeeze his fingers, make him look at you. “Holtzy, you’re a Dev.” You say firmly, “Nico knows what that means, we all know what that means. You’re here, you’re with us no matter what. And if you think me being here is putting me in danger, you’re wrong. It’s my job to protect all of you.”

Finally he relaxes, shaking as you rise and help him to his feet. You cup his face, wipe away the tear tracks on his face before pulling him down into a hug. He squeezes you back, grateful.

“Go to the car, there’s clothes in the back.” You instruct, nudging him towards the parked vehicle. “Ignore Nico, he’s just a driver tonight, ok?”

You can see the reluctance in his eyes but he nods anyway and drags his feet to the car. Taking a deep breath, you join Jack and Luke again, and Nico who’s now crouched down with them.

“He ok?” Nico asks you, glancing towards Alex. You nod, rolling up the sleeves of your hoodie. Accepting the answer, Nico hands you the med kit he’d brought out from the car.

“Didn’t know the plan,” he tells you “you gonna fix him or are we leaving?”

Jack and Luke look between the two of you, and then at each other. They’re obviously thrown by Nico’s behavior, and it’s then that you realize this is the first time one of them has called you in crisis.

“Fix him,” you decide, flipping open the large box and digging out everything you’ll need to clean him up and stitch him. “And when he wakes up, you’ll make sure he forgets everything.”

Nico’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised and impressed with your answer. “Yeah?”

You nod, pulling on some gloves. “But make sure he knows that if he ever touches Luke or even thinks about Alex, I’ll personally be undoing all the hard work I did on him tonight.”

You don’t miss the smile that rises on your boyfriend’s face, how his eyes crinkle and dimples sink into his cheeks. “Sure thing, boss.” He agrees, moving around you so he can pull your hair back for you and tie it up.

Pressing a kiss to your head, he rises to his feet and moves towards Alex and the car.

“Nico,” you stop him, and he turns to look at you. “He’s shaken and he’s sorry. Be a friend.”

Biting back another grin, he nods. “And clear out the backseat, these three are coming back with us.”

He nods and turns on his heel, doing as told. Certain that he’ll listen to you, you get to work on fixing up the man below you. And you swell with pride when Jack and Luke follow your lead like obedient soldiers.

#him and i #him and i asks #mob boss nico hischier #nico hischier #requested

[myfairkatiecat]

Guest pastor at the church I play piano for decided to be a real piece of work this week :)

Okay gonna put the rant under the cut in case someone doesn’t feel like scrolling past my indignant ranting about the guest pastor at my church

we’ve had arguments in the past over picking hymns. Because that’s my job. If she were the actual pastor she’d get final say, but as I am the one actually employed at this church and she is a guest, technically I get the final say.

That’s technically. But in practice, I’m seventeen, and she’s sixty-something, and I don’t like getting into arguments with people with a lot of years on me.

But she picks gross hymns that no one can sing, and the congregation backed me and said I need to get to pick the hymns. So we compromised. She picks the middle hymn, I pick the opening and closing hymns.

Whatever. That’s only one weird hymn a week.

Weird hymns are also really hard to play because they make no musical sense (there’s a reason no church ever sings them ever). So I spend most of my time practicing the weird song.

Today I got to the church and I practiced briefly the ones I picked, and then extensively the weird one she picked.

Then, one minute til the service starts—and I mean 9:59 for a 10:00 service—she says, “just to be clear—we aren’t doing number 650, we’re doing ‘his banner over me is love.’”

And I was like 🧍‍♀️ what

And she’s like “I emailed you this weeks ago…..”

So I pulled up the email she sent me weeks ago and pointed to the fact that she said we were doing hymn 650. Which was a horrible terrible disgusting hymn I never want to ever have to play ever again ever

She points to the bottom of the email, which is a link to Ultimate Guitar, and says, “but we talked about this song and you said you loved it and already knew it!”

And I was like

Huh

I’ve never heard that song in my life

What the heck are you talking about. That conversation definitely did not happen.

So I’m like “listen. That’s a link to chords on ultimate guitar for a song I don’t know. You said you’d ‘love to play it during the sermon’ underneath the part where you explicitly said we were going to sing hymn 650 this week. I can read chords, but I don’t know the melody so that doesn’t really do anyone any good. I assumed when I first got this email that when you said you’d love to play this song during the sermon, you meant that you’d have a recording, because in the past you’ve played recordings of songs before during your sermons. It was also below you explicitly saying that we were doing hymn 650, and we’ve established that you only pick one song a week.”

And she said, “I only picked one song… it’s this song”

And I’m like “then WHAT IS THIS??” Because the email she sent DEFINITELY had that song explicitly written on it!

She kept not answering that part and I couldn’t isolate the question and force and answer cause like I said it was 9:59 for a 10:00 service

So I told her, “I’m not going to play this song, because I don’t know it and you did not make clear that I was supposed to learn it, you also didn’t send me actual sheet music for it and explicitly named your one hymn choice for this week that you are now saying I wasted my time learning.”

So she’s all upset and passive aggressive like “whatever 🙄 we’ll just sing it without music. I’ll teach it to them. EXCUSE ME EVERYONE! IM GONNA TEACH YOU A SONG NOW!”

And the congregation is kinda like……ok??????

And she starts singing but no one can follow her because she’s not really in any particular key……..

So uh

That’s my story from this morning

*deep breaths* I am a Christian and Christians love I am a Christian and Christians love I am a Christian and Christians love

#Christianity #Katie’s church job

[butch-reidentified]

if you think agp is a thing(and presumably exclusive to trans women) what do you think of cis women claiming to masturbate in front of mirrors and CIA women who report being aroused by breastfeeding?

literally every single answer to these questions is available on my blog. I'm tired of writing the same posts over and over and over. if you can't find sufficient answers scrolling my blog, searching key words on my blog (or on google citing my blog, which yields better results oftentimes), going through the links in my pinned, or checking the tags referenced in my pinned, then I'd say if it's reeeeally important to you to get answers, your best bet will be to sit tight and occasionally check for updates to my Pinned as I am gradually adding more and more links detailing my views, and/or skim my blog from time to time - it's pretty much guaranteed to cycle through again within a month at most 🤷

I was actually gonna put a partial (that is to say, just not my usual thorough, detailed, and nuanced) answer at the beginning, but honestly I'm getting VERY tired of anonymous strangers who most likely just stumbled across my blog for the first time today thinking they're entitled to a personalized thinkpiece from me when almost every time I get an ask like this (which are distinctly different from good faith curiosities, which I'm more than happy to answer), I've already posted my answer, I've already written about the subject in depth on my blog. so I'll put my answer below instead so you have to read all of the above first, so you at least sort of vaguely kinda earn some response by putting in a miniscule fraction of the work/time I've put into both reading/informing myself about all sorts of different opinions, ideologies, experiences, perspectives, and views (rather than just demanding opinions from strangers on anon, lmao) and writing countless posts (& that's just on here, ignoring the offline side which is where I'm wayyy more active), which are almost always VERY long and detailed and proofread and edited and polished several times over.

btw, kind of a side note -- I have NEVER sent a single anon in my life, and I have NEVER, anonymously or not, demanded someone give me a personalized just-for-me explanation of their opinions (or any at all). the reason I call this entitlement is because you (most likely) aren't asking out of genuine curiosity or good faith. you (most likely) are asking because you dislike what you think my views are (you are most likely misinformed and think I believe things I do not) and you (most likely) think this is some kind of gotcha rather than the same ignorant, unoriginal, boring ass points that I've read countless times as far back as when I was a transactivist and trans-identifying myself. they've been debunked/responded to by a LOT of other women, too, and I'm very confident you could easily find at least one such response. I'm not holding you to a standard I don't also hold myself to; in fact, that I'm going to give you any degree of actual answer at all is demonstrative of my holding myself to a HIGHER standard. because again, nothing I'm about to say on this topic is just now in this post being born into the universe as a novel thought. or even a novel tumblr post; like I said, you could find the radfem answers to this ask yourself with just a tiny bit of effort - and while radfems are far from a monolith, and I am a frequent vocal dissenter on a variety of radblr hot topics, this isn't even really a matter of opinion. read on to find out why.

Part A - Not answering the questions here per se, but a clarification of terminology that may help you (any reader, not necessarily anon) see my perspective:

The word "cis" has different definitions. It used to mean someone who is not trans, whereas trans referred to sex-dysphoric transitioners, a demographic who now often prefer terms like transsexual or transsex or simply "sex-dysphoric" BECAUSE they don't agree with gender identity ideology (GII) and object to the way GII has been actively hostile to them and erased transsexuality (and thus their identities, needs, beliefs, and experiences as well), similarly to the ways in which GII engages with pretty much everything that isn't complete and total blind allegiance. These include but are far from limited to:

1. Obfuscating people's (especially children's/young adults' - as they are the primary consumers of most GII content by far) understanding of biology, particularly as it pertains to the sexes of human beings and sexual dimorphism, and inserting "gender identity" as a direct (but importantly not synonymous or remotely parallel) replacement for the material and biological reality of sex. Sex, absent patriarchy and the gender construct, is simply a neutral and factual categorization of human beings: sex categorizes human body types according to the two developmental pathways that evolved solely for the purpose of producing one gamete type or the other to enable perpetuation of the species via sexual reproduction. What this statement does NOT imply to anyone reading it with even an ounce of integrity/intellectual honesty: "women are defined by having babies," "infertile/childfree adult female humans are not women," "humans with anomalous sexual development of any variety are not male or female, but rather a 3rd sex or even proof sex is a spectrum," or anything along these lines; I refer to these arguments as intellectually dishonest because they are originally intentional (disinformation -> misinformation) misinterpretations & serve to moralize, dogmatize, and essentially theologize facts of nature.

This obfuscation of biology is committed via a variety of tactics that frequently include outright gaslighting; "gender and sex are different" turned into "sex is actually a spectrum" (it's not - read on to learn why not!) and then outright science denial while gaslighting others as being the unscientific, uneducated, "3rd grade understanding of biology" ones (again, this is simply factually not true*).

*Feel free to request to see a peer-reviewed neuroscience journal publication bearing my name and/or my thesis (original research regarding the overlapping genetics + epigenetics of norepinephrine dysregulation in both dysautonomia and attention deficit disorders) if you are skeptical of my credentials regarding biology. alternatively, feel free to cite your sources and I will provide a free-of-charge peer review service :)

2. Building from #1, the erasure of patriarchal sex-based oppression of women & girls (by definition: human beings of the female sex, adults & children respectively) via aforementioned tactics obfuscating sex biology & human biology in favor of an innate, internal "gender identity" which is extremely poorly defined with the individual "gender identities" themselves left utterly non-delineated. Gender identity ideology is to be taken entirely on pure faith, despite the fact that there is absolutely no evidence to support gender identity as a universal component of human beings/universal human experience. In fact, the existence of absolutely any nonzero quantity of human beings who do not experience gender identity firmly disproves it as universal human experience - and we know not all humans have a gender identity. However, every human being experiences sexual development, be it typical, disordered (DSDs, congenital infertility, etc), or otherwise anomalous; the vast majority experience typical sexual development, and one's sex is entirely clear in the vast majority of atypical cases as well. Female humans are oppressed on the basis of our biological reproductive capabilities; patriarchy desires control over the female sex as a direct product of its desire to control reproduction. Patriarchy created the gender construct to instill and enforce a caste system between the sexes upholding the patriarchal dogma of male supremacy and female inferiority. Similarly, patriarchy created father-gods in order to make the creation of life a male act. Erasure of sex in favor of the gender construct serves male supremacy and cannot ever be anti-patriarchal or feminist. Evidence of sex based oppression abounds offline (frankly, you need look no further than menstruation stigma in all its forms up to and including menstrual huts, but there is infinitely more evidence) and right here on my blog as well; I even have some posts tagged to serve as proof of sex based oppression.

3. Erasing homosexuality via working toward erasure of exclusive same-sex attraction (this is particularly targeted at lesbians, and this is VERY well documented. I have many examples of this in my TRA Receipts tag, including a particularly excellent masterpost containing, in total iirc THOUSANDS of screenshots), once again replacing sex with "gender identity" as if one's orientation being defined as attraction to another human's invisible, internal, and highly individual "gender identity," which not all humans even purport to have in the first place, could possibly make any sense. This is uniquely absurd.

As stated in the 2nd link in #1 on my Pinned, I object to the usage of "cis" for non-trans-identifying people. Why? At the core of it, because the most commonplace definition of "cis"/'cisgender" that I see at this point in time is "having a gender identity that aligns with what was assigned at birth." As stated above, gender identity is not universal, rendering "cisgender" equally as personal and internal of an identity label as "transgender" - and these are not a pure dichotomy by any means. Radical feminism does not grant any degree of objective factual legitimacy to the gender construct; thus, no radical feminist is or can be, by definition, transgender or cisgender (this does not carry over to whether or not radfems can have dysphoria or even be medically transitioned). Radfems are not the only humans without "gender identities," and it is dishonest and disrespectful to force the term/label onto everyone else according to an ideology we/they may not share.

Part B - The Long-Awaited Answer! [I changed my mind since this ended up significantly longer than initially planned so here ya go]

Autogynephilia was coined as a term with a specific definition. That definition is still the same one in use today. That definition explicitly states that only males can qualify. That definition is: "a paraphilia that describes when a man experiences sexual arousal from the thought of himself as a woman" per Google, and "a male's propensity to be sexually aroused by the thought of himself as a female" per Blanchard's original stated intention for the term he created. Wikipedia goes on to add "intending for the term to refer to 'the full gamut of erotically arousing cross-gender behaviors and fantasies.'"

I have many criticisms of Blanchard himself and of the quality of his research methodologies. However, the evidence for the existence of the paraphilia itself is abundant and undeniable given that many males outright refer to themselves as autogynephiles and many have openly discussed their experiences as someone with this paraphilia. What I do not believe is that all trans-identifying males are AGPs, that there is proven legitimacy to the HSTS/AGP dichotomy (even Blanchard himself said not all OSA trans-identifying males are AGPs - just a whole lot of them), or that non-trans-identifying males can't be AGPs - actually I think it's likely that most AGPs don't identify as transgender.

The core of the paraphilia, the source of the arousal, is a product of the patriarchal sex caste system; autogynephiles are aroused by the idea of themselves as women - as they themselves have stated - because of the sexual objectification of femaleness and/or because they're aroused by degradation and humiliation (as is blatantly obviously on brilliant display in the existence of and obsession with "forced feminization" and similar female-degrading sexual concepts), and the AGP male views femaleness and the gender that patriarchy has forcibly ascribed to femaleness ("femininity") as inferior and thus sees his engagement in performing femininity as degrading - which in turn sexually excites him.

One reason some women find themselves arousing in their own bodies and natural non-performative states is the same as when men find themselves arousing in their own bodies and natural non-performative states: self-confidence increases libido and associations can be made between A and B. Where women and men inevitably differ, however, is about the arousal surrounding performing femininity and/or sexual self-objectification. It is not at all unreasonable to speculate that some women can be turned on when they "feel hot" for a reason other than just self-confidence; for one speculative example, it's possible that some women may see herself in the mirror all dressed up in hypersexualized clothing and feel that they've succeeded in mirroring the pornified images and sexually-appealing-to-males beauty expectations. Ultimately, this is self-objectification. It's patriarchy and the male gaze that have forced these associations onto all of society, and hypersexual associations have a tendency of causing sexual arousal in people (duh).

Oh and I've never heard of women being aroused by breastfeeding, only complaining about it being painful asf, but like. Nipples are among the most common and well-documented non-genital erogenous areas so? This seems terribly unlikely to be a common phenomenon, but utterly irrelevant to the existence of autogynephilia regardless lol. If this is a thing, like I said I doubt it's commonplace at all, but even just hypothetically, I'd say it would distinctly fall in line with everything else I say in this answer. Patriarchy and its pornographers have indeed sexualized breastfeeding - there are a concerning number of men who ask their partners NOT TO BREASTFEED their babies - his own children! - because it makes him JEALOUS and even resent the baby. I'm dead serious you can look this up, it happens. So... read on for elaboration.

I neither know nor care precisely what you're referencing in this ask, because the answer remains the same: autogynephilia by definition can only affect males, and males who have a fetish for the idea of themselves as female, be that through imagining themselves Fucked (anatomically female, specifically in a sexually objectified - aka Fucked - manner; the anatomical/biological form of autogynephilia fetishizes the male subject imagining himself as the female Fucked object of pornography) or Feminine (as discussed above) fundamentally are not and cannot be the same as women who are turned on by feeling like they look sexually appealing or by their own natural anatomy or biological functions (which have been violently hypersexualized by patriarchy). This is a form of internalized misogyny; when men do it, it's just misogyny. These are not the same.

#mine #ask #anon ask #anon #radblr #long post

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

Hey! Hope your having a good day! If you want to, could you do a story where a supervillain typically goes easy on a group of rookie heroes, as he usually fights them just for fun, and could destroy them if he wanted.

He just lets them think they can beat him.

Then, something happens (maybe they cross a line, and one of the heroes tries to stop their team from crossing that line but they don't listen) where the supervillain shows them just how powerful he actually is?

Sure. Do you mind if we stop for ice cream?

*

A Taste of Revenge

“You’ll never get away with this!” yelled one of the three Heroes from afar.

Supervillain smiled and just waved at them while flames and energy beams hit his forcefield without leaving a scratch. It was, in fact, the third time this month he was getting away with this.

The heroes were all new, of course. The town was too little for the closest hero agency to care about what was happening here, so they’d only sent their three youngest. Sometimes they popped in while he was minding his business. They always thought they’d found a way to break through his defenses, and were always wrong. He didn’t care much, amused by these three overgrown teenagers who were looking equally embarrassed and proud of their muscles, trying to speak loud to cover their awkwardness. There was no use hurting them. The hero agency would have sent someone competent in their place. If Supervillain was only mildly inconvenienced by them, and they were convinced to gloriously fight against evil, everyone was happy.

It was sunset. There was no time to sleep before another night’s work, but enough to take a break. Supervillain went home, put his citizen clothes on, called his cat who jumped on his shoulders, and went in his favorite ice cream shop. Coincidentally, it had a magnificent view on the shiny new heroes headquarters.

The door bell rang. The shop owner raised her head and smiled at him. He was a usual customer.

“Hello, Citizen.”

“Hello, sir. Hello to you two,” she added, nodding politely to his pet.

Supervillain smiled in return. To make sure he wouldn’t be ever recognized, he’d gotten a cat. Mister Whiskers was more than happy to follow him in his ice cream adventures, especially since Supervillain was the one who walked for them both. People asked to pet the kitty sometimes, but never gave his face a second glance.

“What will you take, sir?”

Supervillain pondered for a moment, answering then:

“When I was eight, my mother took me to see the ocean for the first time. I want three scoops of that memory flavor in a cup, please.”

“Right away, sir.”

She took a cup that she filled three times with white ice cream, then gently set her opened palms over it and closed her eyes. The scoops changed into a lovely turquoise. Mister Whiskers mewed with anticipation, opening and closing his mouth.

“And for the cat?”

“A kid scoop of Oyster-Caviar, lactose-free.”

She gave his orders to him. Supervillain thanked her and settled in his usual corner. While Mister Whiskers ate his own treat like he hadn’t already eaten thrice today, Supervillain took his time, glazing by the window. For the Heroes headquarters, it was the end of the day. Secretaries were pouring down the establishment. He looked at them with interest, wondering how many people was needed to manage three baby heroes. Sometimes they went in the ice cream shop, looking harassed, not giving him a second look. They never stayed long. It was just enough for him to memorize their faces and note their schedules.

Supervillain bit his lip to hide his smile when he saw the Heroic Trio getting out of the agency, their faces crumpled. Every time he saw them by the window, he wondered what would happen if they were coming here. Today, he realized that he was going to find out. After pausing, all three opened the door and went into the line that had been forming.

Supervillain took a spoonful of ice cream. It melted on his mouth as lightly as foam. It was a flavor of pure joy, with an aftertaste of melancholy. These holidays had not lasted long. Why rush his break, then? He was more than convinced that he wouldn’t get noticed, and if he was, well, that was too bad for the customers. Most of them didn’t linger anyway. They thanked Citizen and went out, hastily eating out outside, maybe because the Heroic Trio grumbled louder and louder about the wait. The line went down quickly until the moment a little boy asked for a cone.

“I can make all the flavors you want in the world, young man,” said Citizen. “Every memory, every feeling, every object, the weather, time itself, everything has a taste.”

The little boy thought long and hard, reading out loud the suggestions. After fifteen minutes, he made his choice:

“Chocolate.”

Ignoring the loud groans behind, he was about to merrily go out, when one of the heroes caught him by the shirt:

“You haven’t paid, kid.”

“She gives it to me for free,” explained the boy, pointing at Citizen.

“Really? Why is that?”

The kid shrugged, licking his cone.

“Sometimes, I do the dishes.”

“He’s right,” intervened the shop owner. “He’s done nothing wrong, let him go.”

Hero released the kid, who went away trotting and licking his prize, and turned back to the owner with a frowning face:

“What sort of business are you running here?”

Citizen raised an eyebrow:

“I don’t understand.”

“Do you see these suits, ma’am?”

“Well, yes-”

“That means we’re heroes. He-roes, you understand? We protect you all day, putting our lives in danger for you. We’ve just escaped the most dangerous criminal of this town. We’d like to give us a little respect.”

“But I didn’t-”

“You made us wait to indulge a kid who can take anything he wants? It’s bad business practice. Terrible, even. How can you make profits like that? It’s a wonder this shop is still open.”

The three heroes towering over her, the woman tried to look at Supervillain, the only customer remaining, but he avoided his gaze. He wasn’t about to blow his cover for that. Furthermore, Mister Whiskers had finished his cup and was now interested in Supervillain’s ice cream. He put it away, but as he avoided the cat’s insistent paws, he was still listening to the conversation, quietly readjusting his perception of his self-proclaimed foes. Kids they were, but bullies are of every age. He heard them making their choice (one Nova scoop, two Oncoming Storm scoops, one First Prize cup), and refusing to pay.

“ If you give free food to the bloody kid, I think you can afford to give us a free pass, too.”

The shop owner made the effort to laugh, throwing her red braid off her shoulder.

“You have a good sense of humor,” she said politely.

“I’m not joking.”

Ah, thought Supervillain, there you go. Citizen raised her tone, but they laughed at her:

“What are you going to do, use your power?”

“That’s not our fault if all you can do is ice-cream flavor', said another. “I’m sorry you can’t be a Hero, but not everyone is born equal, don’t take it on us.”

Supervillain stared at his blue ice cream melting, waiting for the shop seller to burst in tears and give in. That didn’t happen. Instead, she clenched her fists and said:

“I am more useful than you.”

The booming laughter of the Heroic trio filled the room, but the shop owner was fed up. She hit the counter with her little hand and yelled, covering their voices:

“I feed children who are hungry. I give people the taste of things they’ve forgotten and can’t have otherwise. I give people shelter when they need it. You’ve just set foot in the neighborhood and do nothing but cause property damage. I am the better Hero. Now get out of my shop.”

The laughs died out. With a stony face, one of the heroes went behind the counter, pushing her away, and took their orders by force.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said.

The doorbell rang when they left. A heavy silence fell.

The shop seller rocked slightly on her heels, burying her face in her hands. Supervillain looked at her, then at his now melted ice cream. His mom had offered him to see the ocean to cheer him up. He remembered why, too. Because of the day before. A school day. A bitter taste in his mouth. The wall behind his back. Kids with frowning looks and mocking smiles.

“Forcefield is not even a real power.”

“You’re so uncool.”

“What can you do, uh? Hiding like the coward you are?”

Supervillain sighed, shaking his head. No, that wouldn’t do at all.

He stood up, holding out a handkerchief to the ice cream seller. She took it without looking at him. While she blew her nose, he turned his eyes towards the Hero headquarters, looking at the Heroic Trio walking away.

“They’re kids,” he said. “They don’t know a lot of things.”

“That doesn’t give them an excuse to-”

“I know. They have no respect for powers that aren’t flashy enough for them. They’re the kind of people thinking that forcefields are for defense only.”

He smiled. All the windows on the first floor of the Hero headquarters exploded.

People screamed in the streets. The Heroic Trio came back running despite the glass shards flying, trying to localize the culprit.

“They have no imagination,” he explained pleasantly at the shop owner, who was looking at the scene with wide eyes. “They don’t know how impenetrable shields that can be projected from everywhere could be used otherwise.”

He glanced at the building now cut in two, shaking his head:

“I mean, how can they realize that this kind of shield could pierce any matter like a knife through hot butter?”

The heroes wanted to rush towards the headquarters, but bounced back. The forceshield was now covering the whole building, slightly buzzing. It didn’t stop there. It got tighter and tighter until the walls cracked and collapsed under the pressure.

“People inside-” squeaked Citizen.

“It’s the end of the day, my dear.”

The heroic trio was running around, getting people away, swearing and not knowing what to do. The forcefield didn’t vanish until the building was in ruins. Only then Supervillain turned towards the show owner. She flinched hard, but he only pulled out his wallet.

“Now, how much do we owe you?”

*

Back to the Hero x Villain Masterlist.

#hero x villain #hero villain community #writeblr #writers on tumblr #villain and hero #heroes and villains #hero and villain #original fiction #my writing #writing snippet #writing dialogue #creative writing #writers #writing community #original character #hero and villain community #hero x villain community #heroes and villains community #villain x hero #oc #villain prompt #apparently lactose-free ice creams for cats exist #I already knew that oyster-caviar flavor exists and it is nasty I do not recommend

[nikethestatue]

Chapter XVI

You Are the One

One time, Elain Marie Paige Archeron had everything she ever wanted. She had love. A love that was pure and clean and genuine. A love that did not ask for anything in return. The kind of love that was true, and kind, and forgiving, and protective. She couldn’t remember a time when she laughed as much as she did in the last three months. She recalled waking up every morning for the past three months and feeling lighter, like there was joy and a promise of good things. Now, in hindsight, she realised that it was because she was in love. But also because she was loved. No one’s ever loved her like that before. No one looked at her in the same way, like she was precious. Like she mattered. Like she was someone’s favourite thing in the world.

Only Elain Archeron did not hold on to that love.

She took it for granted.

She took the man who offered her his devotion and his loyalty and his unconditional, undeniable and passionate love for granted, never thinking that she’d ever lose him.

But she did.

She lost Azriel. 

“Remember, darling, that’s nature…simple biology,”

“Daddy, you aren’t going to be talking about how babies are made?” Elain sniffled, half amused, half horrified.

Her father smiled a sad smile and shook his head no.

“You have to remember that it’s the sperm that chases the egg. It’s the man who pursues the woman. Not the other way around. A man will chase and will not give up until he gets that sperm into the egg.”

“Ew, dad!”

“You are a big girl, my pretty rose. You know what I mean.”

Elain considered his words, and as graphic as they were, they also made sense. He was correct. 

“Love was invented to make nature more palatable,” he continued, “but biology never changed. It’s still about the sperm and the egg. Therefore, let him chase you. And if he doesn’t, then you’ll know the answer. But never chase a man, sweetheart. It’s his nature, his responsibility and his destiny to chase after a woman.”

She sighed and looked out the window.

It's been almost two weeks and Azriel hasn’t sought her out. The sperm hasn’t chased the egg. Azriel hasn’t chased her at all.

At first, it was just…silence.

For four days, it was silent. 

Her texts went unanswered. There were no call backs. She even went old school and sent Azriel an email! And that didn’t get a response either. 

She was ready to go all the way to Canary Wharf and be the weird girlfriend who busts into her boyfriend’s home and starts to demand answers. 

But he finally messaged her with a one word text: ‘training’. That’s all it said. No apology and no explanation. Not an ‘I am sorry for ignoring you’ or ‘I’ve been swamped with the team stuff’. No, she didn’t get anything other than ‘training’.

And so, Elain had changed her mind about trekking to Canary Wharf and waited. Training would eventually be over and he would be back. He'd return to her. Elain wanted to be an understanding girlfriend, who was going to support her man. She realised that he needed to get back into the groove of the game after his injury and get his body back in playing shape. Therefore, when Saturday came about and Arsenal was playing Luton Town, she dutifully turned on the telly and listened to the pre-game broadcast while Piglet raced upstairs and then came back with his red jersey, tossing it to her and urging her to dress him in it. He already knew what he needed to wear when Azriel was playing, and even though he made a mess in his cubby, turning it out and tossing all the other things on the floor, Elain thought that it was too cute how he got so excited and was behaving like a proper little fan. 

They watched the game, with Piglet sitting there, enraptured, and howling happily every time Azriel appeared on the screen. How Piglet recognised him, Elain didn’t know–she once hid under a blanket for 10 minutes, and her pug was wandering around in confusion, looking for her, never thinking to pull the blanket off. But here, he somehow was eagle-eyed and was spotting Azriel among the tiny players on the screen.

While Piglet was innocently happy to watch the game, hopping and rolling around, Elain’s mood was more subdued. She did take a photo of the pug and sent it to Azriel. When the game concluded, and Arsenal had won, she messaged him and said ‘Congratulations! Brilliant game’.

Thanks.

That’s what Eain got in response to her message from Azriel.

Thanks.

Angrily, she waited for more, but nothing else came.

Because if he’d responded, she’d confront him and give him a piece of her mind. What did she do to him?? She was a somewhat reluctant girlfriend, but she had the right to be reluctant. He moved like a freight train, but she was more cautious. Besides, she’s lived through many heartbreaks before and every single man that she’s been with has broken up with her. She never broke up with anyone–all the breakups were initiated by the men. And it looked like the pattern was continuing, unbroken. Azriel was also fed up with her and was breaking up.

That night, after the terse ‘thanks’ Elain closed her bedroom door, so Piglet wouldn’t hear her, and wept.

She wept for herself, for her lost love, for her stupidity.

She cried tears of anger, feeling rage sweep over her, cursing Azriel under her breath, calling him names. She was so angry. Angry at him for making her fall in love with him. Angry at him for making her feel. For having hope. Feelings and hope were things that she long ago placed in a place that she did not access and longed to forget. She hated Azriel Night for making her think that she could be loved, with a passion and devotion that Rhys offered her sister Feyre. She hated him for being even worse than Eris. At least Eris never offered her false hopes–he was what he was and she knew that going in. There would be no sweeping her off her feet by Eris. But Azriel…No, Azriel was gallant and strange. He courted her with ferocious intent and was not shy about showing her, and everyone around them, how much he wanted her. He loved her dog. He cooked for her. He cared for her. He cherished her. He joked, but he never pushed her into an uncomfortable place. She didn’t expect to find him and somehow, he landed on her doorstep. Literally. The old saying ‘it will happen when you least expect it’--well, it happened to her. She didn't expect him to sweep into her life and just overtake her whole existence. Because he did. And she hated him and herself, for allowing him so much power over her. She’d given him everything–her heart, first and foremost, but also access to her home, to her sanctuary and to her family. Even her father had accepted Azriel as an appropriate match for his beloved Elain. Elain was her father’s princess. She was the one he loved the most, and the one who gave him the most worry. He’d been lukewarm on Eris, despite Eris’s title and background. But Azriel–Azriel’d wormed his way into Sir Charles’s heart and Elain’s father came to like Azriel quite a bit.

But he never called. 

At some point, while operating like a zombie day in and day out, Elain couldn’t stand it anymore and swallowed her pride and messaged Gwyn Berdara.

She was mentally exhausted, thinking nonstop about Azriel and why he was acting the way he was acting. Unable to bring herself to reach out to him yet again, and receive yet another awful, one word answer, she opted for contacting Gwyn. She had no feelings about Gwyn either way–she’d only met her twice in person, and Gwyn wasn’t memorable enough for Elain to develop a strong opinion about her. But Gwyn didn’t respond to her either. Elain had sent a nonchalant sort of message of: Good morning! How are you? Just checking in to see how things are going with Azriel Night? I didn’t want to bother him as he is training and playing right now, but I am curious about your progress with him?

The message remained unread.

-

However, Elain Archeron did not need to wait for long to get answers to her questions. They came a day later, courtesy of the Daily Mail.

Another Mystery Woman for the Rackish Lothario?

Azriel Night,  Captain of Arsenal, never one wanting for female company, has been spotted at The Devonshire with a new companion. 

It seems that only a few months had passed since he was photographed on the streets of London carrying another woman in his arms following an attempted robbery. He’d been previously seen with the beautiful partner, now identified as Lady Elain Archeron, on more than one occasion. Hello Magazine even published a holiday spread of the lovely Archeron sisters and their partners in their Christmas edition. London society is still buzzing over the surprise marriage of Lady Feyre Archeron and Lord Rhysand Darling back in December, and over the budding romance between Lady Nesta Archeron, the Duchess of Velaris and Mr. Cassian Night (Azriel Night’s brother). 

By all accounts, the romance between the gorgeous aristocrat and Mr. Azriel Night was going splendidly and he’d been seen leaving her luxurious Russell Square townhouse, and even walking her pug, all through the month of December. However, it seems that their relationship is now on pause.

Mr. Night had been spotted dining at the upstairs restaurant at The Devonshire in the company of another woman. The yet to be named companion and Mr. Night enjoyed Sunday lunch at the Soho hotspot, dining on Roast Rib of Beef, all the trimmings and sticky toffee pudding. 

After so many trials and errors, will this one be the one to capture Azriel Night’s heart forever?

He was at The Devonshire on Sunday–the Sunday when it was Elain’s turn to cook Sunday roast. When everyone had come to her house for lunch. And by everyone, she meant–everyone. Rhys. Feyre. Her father. Nesta. CASSIAN. Cassian Night, who introduced her and Azriel, was at her dinner table, eating roast chicken and buttery peas. But his brother, Elain’s boyfriend, was on a date with someone else. 

A more awkward lunch couldn’t be imagined into existence, even by a talented writer.

Nesta was seething, smoke coming out of her ears. Cassian looked pained and uncomfortable. Rhys didn’t fare much better. 

But it was Piglet who broke everyone’s hearts. He sat by the front door for three hours–waiting for Azriel to arrive. He didn’t move. He didn’t eat. He waited. 

And waited.

And waited.

The whole family was here, and surely his dad would come as well. So he waited. He paced and then he lay on the floor, and he looked at the door, blinking his big brown buggy eyes.

Only Azriel never came.

-

It was a few days later, when Elain on on break between meetings and arranging dates that her phone lit up with a message. She looked at it and her face dropped. 

Gwyneth Berdara

Hi Elain! Things are going well, thank you for asking. How are you?

Elain Archeron

I am well, thanks! Forgive me for bothering you,

Gwyneth Berdara

It’s no bother! I apologise for not responding sooner. I had a presentation to create and it took all my energy and time! 😀

Elain Archeron

I can only imagine. I was just wondering how things are with Mr. Night? 

Gwyneth Berdara

We made the Daily Mail. Can you imagine? The one time we had lunch together. I can’t imagine spending all my life being hounded by journos

Elain Archeron

Oh, have you? I wasn’t aware that you were in the paper!

Gwyneth Berdara

😂 😂 I am suddenly a mini celebrity. Haha. I am only joking. But honestly? Don’t laugh, but we are mostly talking about football and working out. And hand to hand combat.

Elain Archeron

You are interested in hand to hand combat??

Gwyneth Berdara

I’ve been studying. Self-defence first, and then I got interested in other things. He is showing me some sicke moves! 

Elain Archeron

? Okay. I guess thank you for getting back to me. Let me know how it progresses.

Gwyneth Berdara

Will do. Also I didn’t realise the two of you were so close. He talks about you a lot. I know you were his matchmaker too but it’s like you are his GF or something.

Elain Archeron

Well, no worries. I am not. Thanks. Bye.

Elain was even more confused and upset about things after that bizarre exchange. Also, who used the expression ‘sicke moves’?

Professor Gwyn was into hand-to-hand combat? And Azriel was teaching her ‘sicke’ moves? Elain knew that Azriel was a fighter and grew up rough, but…what? 

There was no clarity around what was actually happening between Azriel and Gwyn after all that, and Elain only grew more and more anxious.

-

Another Sunday.

It was Nesta’s turn to cook and host, however, Sir Charles insisted that his daughters come to his house instead. And for that, Elain was grateful.

She was even more grateful to her sisters, who’d arrived without their men. She knew that they were lying when they said that both Rhys and Cassian were ‘busy’ on Sunday, but nevertheless, she was grateful to them. She didn’t think that she could handle another painfully awkward lunch with the handsome brothers who looked entirely too much like Azriel, and with her grieving pug. 

She was seated on the sofa, her legs tucked beneath her, her chin resting on her folded hands, as she looked out the window. It was raining. Rain. Rain. Rain. Endless fucking rain. 

She barely bothered today–her appearance was sallow and unkempt. She tied her hair in a messy bun, wore a beige jumper and a pair of yoga trousers–attire which was entirely inappropriate for Sunday lunch and not something she’d ever dare leave the house in. But she just couldn't bring herself to care. When the butler opened the door, he stepped back, lack of recognition evident on his face, before he quickly gathered himself and said, “Lady Elain, good afternoon. Please come in.”

Her father, and neither of her sisters comment on her appearance and the maudlin way that she moved around the house, with Piglet trailing behind her, his nose to the ground. No one was surprised when she went to her father’s study and curled up on the sofa, like she did when she was little.

“He’s lost weight,” Sir Charles noted, as he stroked Piglet’s back, while the pug lay unmoving in his lap.

“Two kilos,” Elain said, looking out the window. Expensive cars rolled down the street, taxis and stray pedestrians huddled under their umbrellas. Late January was miserable. Even the warmth of the fire in the marble fireplace didn’t make a difference. 

“That’s a lot for a pug,” her father commended. “Is he not eating?”

“He eats, but he doesn’t ask for snacks and mostly he just sits by the door,” Elain answered and wiped the tears that rolled down her cheeks. 

“Elain,” he began saying, but she rose up swiftly and rubbed her eyes vigorously.

“I am okay, daddy,”

“No you aren’t,” he said sadly. “No you aren’t”.

She shrugged, like it didn’t matter. And maybe it didn’t. Nothing much mattered.

“Let’s go eat.”

Just then, a knock on the door informed them that lunch was indeed served.

At least life was predictable. Pleasantly predictable here, with her family. There were no treacherous men and no disloyalty.

Feyre and Nesta were already at the table, their expressions worried, even though they tried really hard to act normal. 

“Hi Piggy, come here little boy,” Feyre tried to summon the pug, but Piglet didn’t even look at her and just went to his bowl, sniffing disinterestedly at the chicken and rice offering. 

Once the wine was poured and the soup was served and the butler left the dining room, Nesta, who’s been clutching at her spoon like she was going to lunge at someone with it, snarled,

“I have to say something,”

“Don’t say anything,” Feyre warned. “Nesta. Don’t.”

“That utter arsehole,” Nesta ignored her youngest sister and clutched at her napkin until her knuckles were white.

Sir Charles winced, knowing that the lunch was about to descend into chaos.

“Girls,” he began with a sigh, but suddenly was interrupted by Elain.

Her voice was monotone and she spoke without inflection, staring straight ahead.

“If I die before Piglet,” she said calmly, while the rest of her family tensed and stared at her with apprehension, “show him my body.”

“Elain,” Feyre gasped. But Elain ignored her and continued,

“Bring him over to my deathbed. Allow him to smell me. He will understand death. He will understand that I was gone and that I would not be coming back. Allow him to mourn me. But do not attempt to spare him the sight of me and my death. He should know that he was not abandoned. He must know that I died, but that I did not leave him. He must understand that unlike others, I did not abandon him. Not like his first family and not like Azriel. He should not be waiting by the door for me to come back. Take him to the funeral and allow him to watch me be lowered into the ground so he understands the finality of it all. He must know that Elain loved him and did not leave him on his own. She was not like Azriel. She never lied to him.” 

-

What Elain had missed the most was the casual intimacy.

As another week passed and January was coming to a close, Elain’s life returned to its natural, if boring routine. 

She worked, taking on more clients–thank god for January and ‘resolutions’ and people wanting to couple up–and that took a lot of her time. She was grateful for the distraction, but the nights and the weekends were tough.

Most evenings, she cried herself to sleep, while remembering all the good things that she’d lived through with Azriel. He wasn’t dead, yet the fissure of emptiness inside her chest that was created by his absence really felt like he had died. There was something unsaid and unfinished about them, which bothered her like a toothache. It was a wound which she kept irritating every time she remembered something about him.

How he was so effortlessly sexual with her, and how his relaxed sensuality allowed her to feel free with her own sexuality for the first time in her life. To Azriel, she was beautiful. Always beautiful. Never awkward or chubby or clumsy or strange.

The way he would habitually slap her bum, every time he passed by her. Or pinch it. Or caress it. Or cup it in his large hand. At first it scandalised her. And then, she grew to love it. She grew to expect it. 

The way he strutted around after a shower in only a towel wrapped around his hips, showing off his incredible body…goodness gracious! That was something to behold! The way she learned all the details of his form, no matter how insignificant–his tattoos, the shape of his shoulders, the thickness of his biceps, how his neck was a touch too long for his body, but how that made him appear more graceful. She knew exactly how many abdominal muscles he packed–more than six, and definitely eight, and she knew the shape of his long strong fingers. His hair curled slightly in the back of her neck. His hazel eyes had more green in them than brown, and were peppered with black specks. He had perfect toes. The V of his hips could only be called vicious, because it was so sharp and pointed right at his…The one thing Elain never got to see. She never saw his member. Felt it, knew that it was worryingly large and thick, but she never saw it.

She supposed that she always thought that they’d have more time. 

She recalled how one time, they were in a restaurant. It was moderately busy and they were seated by the window. It so happened that there was no one at the table in front of them, or by their side. So what did he do? He parted her shirt on her chest, and when she thought that he’d just cop a feel–something he did often and without hesitation–he bared her breast completely and tugged on her nipple, while kissing her lips. She sat there, completely delirious with love and arousal, while he pinched and rolled her nipple in his fingers, while squeezing her bare tit in his palm. Just as the waiter approached, he tucked her back in and acted like nothing happened. 

She missed him.

Sometimes, she screamed into her pillow, a long, tortured scream because she…well, she missed him. There was nothing that could replace him in her life. 

She loved him. Loved him when they were together, and loved him now–perhaps even more than before. 

-

He rang her. 

Once.

It was a day like any other. A blustery wintry afternoon, only 5 pm and already pitch black outside. Though slowly, but surely the days were getting a bit longer. Just a little. It was early February and Elain just changed into her comfy joggers and a sweatshirt having just come back from walking Piglet. He hated being outside, especially when it was cold and drizzling, and thankfully, it was a quick walk and he did his business in record time.

For some reason, it didn’t register with Elain that it was Azriel’s name on the Caller ID. 

She’d become so used to his calls and messages that it seemed normal that he’d be ringing her. 

“Hello,” she said.

He seemed surprised when he said, “Hi Elain”.

Everything stopped. 

The moment she heard that voice, that achingly familiar, smooth, deep voice she felt her hands shake, and her heart beat wildly in her chest.

She threw her phone on the counter as if it burned her and then, with her finger trembling, pressed the ‘speaker’ button.

“Why are you calling me?” she demanded, her voice barely a whisper.

He didn’t answer right away.

“Why?” she asked again, and to her horror her voice was already hoarse and weak, and she sounded strangled. Because there were tears in her eyes and she was hyperventilating.

“How are you?” he asked softly instead.

How was she?

How dare he?

How was she?

She howled like an animal in her sorrow over losing him.

She cried.

She screamed.

She wondered what she'd done and why he just left her without an explanation? 

She didn’t eat.

She didn’t sleep or she slept too much.

“Fine. Brilliant. All good,” she laughed a dry, angry laugh. “I am sure you are doing well too, right? How’s Gwyn?”

He sighed, like the sound of her voice pained him.

“I didn’t like the way things ended between us,” he told her somberly, ignoring her question.

“Well, it was your choice, wasn’t it?” she reminded him. 

“I suppose?”

It sounded like he wasn't sure.

“What do you want, Azriel?” she demanded.

“How’s Pink?” he asked instead.

“What do you want to hear exactly?”

Did he want to hear about Piglet crying by the door?

Did he want to hear about Piglet avoiding any football on TV and barking violently for her to change the channel if he saw anyone running on a green field?

Did he want to hear about Piglet sitting and waiting for him for hours, day after day, hoping that his dad would show up?

“You abandoned him,” she accused him savagely. “I told you not to make him fall in love with you. I told you not to allow him to get attached to you. I explicitly told you that this would happen if he thought of you as his own.”

“I am sorry,” he whispered brokenly.

“You did it all. You hurt us, Azriel. What do you expect to happen now?” she questioned him, feeling her voice becoming hysterical. “Two brothers and two sisters together at Christmas. A third sister alone. A third brother who used to date the third sister is now with some random woman. Is this your vision? For all of us to play happy families? Like nothing’s happened. Like we didn’t exist. Like what we had didn’t matter??”

“He did matter,” he argued. “It does.”

She ignored him.

“Cassian and Nesta are dating now. Feyre and Rhys are married. Instead of leaving me alone–like I requested, over and over again–you made me fall for you. Fall in love with you. And then you tossed me aside.”

“You love me?” he breathed a shocked gasp.

“What?” 

“You said you fell in love with me,”

“You are unbelievable,” she cried out. He was always deranged, but now he was even more incomprehensible. What was wrong with him?

“My dog is screaming any time he sees Arsenal signage. My heart is shuttered. Is that what you wanted?” Elain broke down in tears. “Is that what you wanted?

“I never wanted that,” he argued quietly. “I never,”

“What did you think would happen?” she insisted, sobbing. “That I can just walk away?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice devastated. “It all spiralled out of control…I didn’t want any of this.”

She wasn’t listening to him. 

She cried.

Cried for her lost love. Cried for the children she’d never have with him. Cried for the future they’d never have. Cried for not knowing what his perfect day consisted of. Cried for the Christmases they’d never celebrate together again. Cried for his touch and for his kisses and for him next to her in bed. Cried for the games she’d never cheer at. Cried for knowing that she’d never see him snuggling together with Piglet. 

She cried and Azriel listened.

She didn’t know how long it lasted–felt like an hour–and he didn’t say anything. He didn’t comfort her, but he didn’t ask her to stop either. 

At some point, Piglet came over. He looked up at her, watching her weep, and whimpered sadly, before curling himself at her feet.

“I am sorry, Elain,” Azriel whispered at last.

She quieted down, before telling him,

“I wanted to be your wife, you know. I wanted to build a family with you. I wanted to have your children.”

“I understand. And I am sorry.”

“I wish you happiness, Azriel. Even if you robbed me of mine.”

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #azriel and elain #pro elriel #elain #elain x azriel #my fanfiction #A Match Baked In Heaven #my writing #Elriel fanfic #elain and azriel #azriel x elain #new chapter #acotar fanfiction #modern au

[shamsrevengers]

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗻𝗲 ;; 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙢𝙤𝙠𝙚 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙙 𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝.

⤷ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ; BONTEN TIMELINE, language, sex, drug abuse/use, violence, toxic themes, overall not for young audiences or those easily affected by subjects of the same nature.

⤷ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ; Haruchiyo Sanzu, Manjiro Sano, Ran Haitani, Rindou Haitani, Kokononi Hajime, Takeomi Akashi, Kakucho, Hanma Shuji.

⤷ ɪᴍᴘᴏʀᴛᴀɴᴛ; this is all work of fiction. in no way am i prompting the acts in this fictional story nor am i encouraging acts done or words said in this piece of writing. i heavily recommend only 18+ viewers as the heavy themes are not the most suitable for a younger audience.

Getting roped into a professional deal meeting was a common occurrence for you. However, you never quite enjoyed these types of gatherings. Unlike headquarters meetings; the ones held in clubs and parties required you to wear anything but your normal suit. Moreover, instead of having your gun conveniently tucked in the back pocket, you had to conceal it in a purse.

Another inconvenience awaited as the meeting with Bonten approached. Despite spending four years as a spy in Hanma Shuji's company, you had successfully evaded any interactions with them. Your reports were always encrypted and sent covertly.

The moment you saw the alert from Hanma on your phone confirming their arrival, you swiftly adjusted your lipstick and pushed open the bathroom doors with a sigh. Your gaze remained forward, yet you couldn't miss the sight of the many Bonten members in your peripheral strategically placed around the area in every corner.

The sight of the blonde and black hair nest caught your attention - it was impeccably groomed, a far cry from the dishevelled and moaning one you were used to. Taking a seat beside him, you tuned into the conversation. "It's been years, hasn't it, Mikey? You've outdone yourself, you bastard," Hanma quipped, nodding towards Manjiro Sano's associates.

You were well aware of their identities. Names, ages, backgrounds, achievements. It was necessary. You needed to be informed, but their suspicious glances towards you indicated that they were unaware of who you really were.

Dispelling any thoughts of the past, Takeomi Akashi redirected the conversation. The air was thick with the smell of his cigar and various drinks. "Let's keep our minds on the present. Have you taken a look at our agreement?"

Hanma looks over at you with a sly grin on his face, his eyes scanning you up and down before he turns his attention back towards Bonten. "I think you already know my answer, don't you?" he retorts, his tone laced with sarcasm and amusement. You can't help but feel a twinge of confusion at his words, wondering what he means by them. The way he delivers his response makes you feel uneasy as if you're missing something important that he's already aware of.

As Kokonoi Hajime asked, "What’s that supposed to mean?" there was a hint of amusement in his voice, but also a touch of sarcasm. Hanma's response was a maniacal laughter, which echoed through the room. He took a big gulp from his whiskey and then softly traced your jawline with his fingers. "The love of my life has been your bitch for years," he said, his tone slightly mocking, "so you must know my answer. Or has she not been doing her job correctly?" The tension in the room was palpable, as the three of you sat there in silence, waiting for someone to break it.

Your gaze was fixated on Hanma's, and your heart raced with panic. The calmness in his demeanour was more terrifying than if he had been visibly angry. Despite the sound of guns being readied in the background, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him. Tears began to well up in your eyes, but you dared not blink, afraid to lose sight of him even for a moment.

As Rindou Haitani's voice echoed through the room, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease wash over you. You knew that something was about to happen, and the way that Hanma reacted only confirmed your suspicions. His smile was small, but it was enough to let you know that he was aware of the danger that he was in.

Slowly, he lifted his hand away from you, and he could see the look of relief on your face. And you could see the relief on his, it was as if he had been waiting for this moment as if he was finally free from some sort of burden that he had been carrying. He got up from his seat, his movements slow and deliberate as he buttoned his suit.

Meanwhile, your attention was drawn to Bonten, who had all of their guns pointed at Hanma. They were ready for whatever was about to happen, and their expressions were cold and unyielding. You couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as you watched the scene unfold before you, wondering what would happen next.

Hanma, seeming like an imposing figure from your seat, leaned down towards your ear, his hot breath making you flinch. His lips twisted into a sneer as he spoke in a low, menacing voice, "I hope it was worth it, doll." The words seemed to hang in the air like a threat before he straightened up and walked away, his group of mean-looking followers trailing behind him like loyal dogs.

As you sat there, your mind was in a state of shock and disbelief. You couldn't help but wonder why he didn't just kill you, why he gave you away so easily. After all, you had spent four years in his embrace, in his bed, intimately intertwined in his thoughts and desires. How could he simply let you go without a second thought? Had he known all along about your deceitful ways? You were the one who had been breaking hearts and deceiving him, yet somehow the past four years of your life were flashing before your eyes. The confusion and tumultuous emotions were overwhelming, and you couldn't help but question everything you thought you knew.

You flicked the ash from your cigarette, the motion feeling like an act of surrender. The headache that had been plaguing you all night refused to budge, and you leaned your head back against the brick wall of the club. The cold air outside seemed to hit you harder than it should have, the chill seeping through your clothes and into your bones. You felt lost, unsure of what to do next.

As you stood in the dark alley, the sound of footsteps caught your attention. You turned your head to the side and saw a tall figure approaching. It was Haruchiyo Sanzu. The neon lights from the nearby club illuminated his sharp features, casting shadows across his face. The thumping beat of techno music echoed through the alley, creating a surreal atmosphere that seemed to match the intensity of the moment. You looked up at Sanzu, unsure of what was to come, but having the feeling that this encounter would change your life forever.

Sanzu cleared his throat and spoke in a low voice. "Manjiro asked me to pass on a message. Hanma fled. Fucker left in a car that had no license plate and dark-tinted windows. My men were unable to track him down since then. His line went cold." The pink-eyed man's gaze swept over you, all of you. His light eyelashes casting shadows on his pale cheeks.

With a simple and somber tone, you replied, "Hmm," while keeping your gaze directed towards the ground. Despite having finished what he was here for, Sanzu didn't leave. Instead, he positioned himself against the opposite wall and inquired, "Normal?" It took a moment for you to grasp the meaning behind his words as you glanced up at him. "Oh, no. Filtered," you responded, savouring the last inhalation from your cigarette.

Delving into your purse, you retrieved a pack of strong cigarettes and tossed it to him, his reflexes catching it effortlessly. Lighting one with a lighter, he scrutinized the label on the packet. Your eyes landed on the cigarettes, recognizing them as Shuji's. A feeling of discomfort crept into your chest.

"Do you love him?" Sanzu asked abruptly. Your eyebrows furrowed in response, "Pardon?" You scoffed at his question. Despite your many experiences with men like him, their candidness never failed to catch you off guard. "I always thought it was a basic spy rule to not get emotionally involved with your mission," Sanzu exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke.

You let out a chuckle, stating, "After spending four years with him, it's only natural to not be immediately ready to accept the next person your boss will assign for me, no?" Your tone was filled with bitterness and hostility. Sanzu shook his head and firmly declared, "You won't be involved in any espionage shit anymore. Manjiro wants you for us."

“For what?”

“You’re a lawyer, aren’t you?”

After contemplating his words, you directed your gaze towards him. Would you continue to pursue your regular job without any covert involvement with Bonten? The idea of taking a year-long vacation seemed appealing to you.

The aroma of the smoke exuded an air of solace, enveloping your senses with a luxurious embrace. Yet, when it would waft from Shuji, it instilled a sense of unease, leaving you teetering on the precipice of anxiety. Perched on the edge of a metaphorical cliff, your heart would race, fearing the imminent descent into chaos. However, when that familiar scent permeated the air, and when your gaze ascended to witness hues of pink hair instead of the usual dark and blonde, a newfound tranquillity settled within, allowing your breath to flow steadily once more.

The silence was broken by Sanzu, who spoke up abruptly. "He won't leave it alone, you know?" he said, his eyes fixed on you as if waiting for a reaction. "Hanma won't rest until you're buried." His words had an ominous tone to them, but you refused to let them affect you. You maintained eye contact with Sanzu and replied in a calm voice, "I know Hanma is determined, but he would never hurt me." Despite the gravity of the situation, you managed to maintain your composure and speak with confidence.

Sanzu let out a hearty laugh when he heard what you had done. "You locked him down that bad, huh?" he asked, his smirk growing wider as smoke escaped from his nose. You responded with a shrug, not willing to give away too much information. "I guess you'll never know," you replied with a small smile. The two of you stood there for a moment, the tension dissipating as he chuckled at the situation.

He let out a low hum, which seemed to carry a deeper meaning than just a typical conversation ending. Rather, it felt like a subtle challenge, as if he was silently asserting his intelligence and determination to solve whatever problem or puzzle had been discussed. It was a confident, almost daring sound, suggesting that he was not afraid of a challenge and was willing to take on the obstacle of you.

i can fix him (no really i can).

#bonten x reader #bonten #haruchiyo sanzu #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo #tokyo revengers sanzu #sanzu x reader #manjiro sano #kakucho #kokonoi hajime #ran haitani #rindou haitani #takeomi akashi #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #SANZU 💊🤍 #Spotify

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Hey, what's your fave Gabe fanart you've encountered?

Also I am very sorry about your inbox and the incident with the gnome piss anon

- kneeboiler anon

I CANT PICK JUST 1

FAN ART BLAST

https://www.tumblr.com/floating-goblin-art/709166360142495745/stgeorgepng

https://www.tumblr.com/phantom-nisnow/741235083170742272/la-danse-macabre

https://www.tumblr.com/milkymolle/740989211045478400/ecstasy

https://www.tumblr.com/hrokkall/728480077455785984/death-spiral

https://www.tumblr.com/themachine/710891941071667200/heaven-is-a-place-where-nothing-ever-happens

https://lutik327.tumblr.com/post/715977424211427328/blood-palace

https://www.tumblr.com/meiuya/713341420451381248

https://www.tumblr.com/celerys0da/731227260594651136/posting-some-old-art-rn-while-im-working-on-my

https://www.tumblr.com/spaccadt/727733278955765760/autism-creatures-comeback-as-an-allergic-person-i

https://www.tumblr.com/that--unusual-person/726328632488951808/for-2lim3rz-thank-you-for-your-services

https://www.tumblr.com/muzzleroars/725847053766377472/ecstasy-of-the-profane-form

https://www.tumblr.com/cultofthorns/723233440180371456/reversed-viscera-and-wrong-parts

https://www.tumblr.com/fmab/725428933070307328/catharsis

https://www.tumblr.com/plaguedpriest/724394015100960768/would-u-donate-ur-blood-to-them

https://www.tumblr.com/floating-goblin-art/719037383452000256/salvation

https://www.tumblr.com/dofaminos/698821974005284864/actually-my-first-full-ultrakill-fanart?source=share

https://gregemann.tumblr.com/post/674241085223190528/gift-art-for-a-very-dear-friend-3

https://hanteeyo.tumblr.com/post/648721438657921024/gabwiel

https://hanteeyo.tumblr.com/post/668242216019460096/oops-im-an-idiot-and-deleted-the-og-post-lmfao

https://dragonroilz.tumblr.com/post/720071429697175552/happy-pride

https://www.tumblr.com/dragonroilz/710445912452890624

https://decamarks.tumblr.com/post/706832090604388352/i-could-only-lay-in-reverence-carried-in-the

https://viktormaru.tumblr.com/post/706016225317306368/ive-been-doing-daily-doodles-despite-not-sharing

https://crowcryptid.tumblr.com/post/704105237758246912/silvr-i-wanna-fight-you-like-an-animal-i-wanna

https://leafy-yezi.tumblr.com/post/704965002647437312/wanted-to-draw-this-since-the-2nd-gabriel-fight

https://cultofthorns.tumblr.com/post/695321751590256640/v1gabe-things

https://zolovana.tumblr.com/post/707520516946296832/im-very-normal-about-this-game

https://hmmbo.tumblr.com/post/728765440729497600/i-cant-think-of-a-good-caption-just-know-i-spend

https://www.tumblr.com/ghxstshxrk/712175242784784384/aesthetics-of-hate-commission-for-silvervictory

https://volatilemask.tumblr.com/post/696570620260040704/ive-never-had-a-fight-like-this-before

https://volatilemask.tumblr.com/post/697662709195505665/layer-6-heresy

https://www.tumblr.com/oka-ja/700623082067558400?source=share

#im sorry if this post makes anyones pc/phone blow up #anyway #the named anons are back I’m scared #someone already sent one that I will Not be answering #ask #asks #non voice post #sorry if i included any duplicates by accident #there was actually 1 specific pic that i couldnt find and im devastated #i will describe it to see if anyone has it but the issue is that. theres a lot of art like it #its from v1s pov putting a gun against his head and hes all covered in blood n blushing u know how it be #i thought i had reblogged it on my main but apparently i didnt????????? #thats where i grabbed all these from. my mains archive #i only grabbed stuff from tumblr for convenience cause twitter fuckin sucks for trying to search through your own retweets #you have to manually scroll. i aint doing that.

[ssreeder]

I'm so looking forward to iroh and zuko properly talking and seeing irohs reaction to zuko being gay.

Like we all know he doesn't agree with the fire nation rn but how will he react?

Will he not support him cause sokkas a guy? Will he not support him because it's SOKKA? Will he accept him? Will he reveal he's known for years zuko was gay?

Especially with everything that happened with zhao, regarding to what jee said to bato on their date. (Which is a very understandable perspective, zuko just got out of this very sexually traumatising situation and almost immediately starts a relationship (his first relationship) with sokka, but then again it is a very unique situation)

One thing I love about some atla fics is how they portray the FNs thoughts on queerness, cause on one hand they were one of the only country's (I think) that treated men and women the same but then again it's also the fucking fire nation.

And I also think zukos whole canon arc can be very comparative to queerness,

His dads an asshole and after speaking out against him he throws him out, and zuko try's for 3 years to regain his father's love and acceptance, and then faced with the opportunity of regaining it takes it immediately regardless of who or what he may hurt (iroh, his own morals etc) but once he makes it back home realises how fucked up everything is and eventually confronts his dad and openly tells him he doesn't agree with him then runs aways.

I also wonder if iroh secretly knows jee is queer it doesn't seem that likely to me but it also is iroh so who knows.

<3

I do think Iroh’s reaction will be a big moment for not only the story but for Zuko’s character development. Right now, Zuko’s technically still a prisoner, holding himself there by assuming Iroh will not understand or judge him when in reality he’ll never know what his uncle is thinking until they TALK ABOUT IT. (Which the FN royal family is just sooo good at healthy communication I don’t understand why this is so hard for them lol?!)

I do agree that the suddenness of the relationship combined with the intensity from both zuko and Sokka is very alarming for people looking at it from the outside (I mean we all totally get it cause we were there but others are like uhhhh hmmmm ok this might be concerning) so I get them gossiping and wondering if this is truly real or what the fucks going on with those boys.

I love Zukos canon arc because there’s just so much about zukos story that can be relatable no matter who you are and I think that’s why he is a fan favorite (it doesn’t explain why we torture him the way we do but ehhhh it’s fine haha)

Hmmmmmm does iroh know Jees gay? Depends on how saucy those music nights got ;)

#HAHAHA DO SEE THE JEEROH JOKE SOCKS?!?! I hope you see it through all your House reblogging nonsense haha #Jk you obsess over your new blorbos I support you! #I love this ask thank you #I also love that canon gave us so much to work with but left it loose enough we could do what we wanted #like I’ve read the fire nation written so many different ways in fics it’s insane #And I love all the unique thoughts! #I will continue to flesh out the FN little by little as we progress #An azula pov (or someone from her squad) will be part of every new chapter until the end #She’s a coming haha #I don’t know if iroh knows Jee is gay #Or that jee is like one date away from hooking up with bato haha #Or that zuko is already kind of hooking up with sokka (not really but I mean they’re getting prettttttttty snuggly haha) #But yeah idk I’m excited this next chapter it is A LOT #& we will be SUPER CLOSE to getting some answers to your questions lol #Thanks for this cool ask these are my favorite asks #Sorry if you’ve sent me an ask lately and I haven’t responded I’m getting better at that I promise #I will say though that I don’t respond to asks if I genuinely don’t know what to say or if I feel I might come off too mean or rude. #So yeah sorry anyone who’s ask I didn’t respond #(I also forget them in drafts and then feel weird about posting it after it’s been a month so I’m sorrrryyyyyy…) #Ok phew this was a lot of tags sorry #monsieugrgraves #Leaving it all behind #LIAB #ITF #ask

[spaciebabie]

Computer, show me spaciebabie x reader fanfics

Computer

Computer are you there?

Computer please

hi im computer

youre not getting that.

#WHO'S SENDING THESE #AKSJGHKDAJHGKAH??? #someone out there wants me really bad but is like a coward and wont say it ta my face #if one of my friends sent this you should talk ta me about it :> #(i really cant think of anyone else who would send it ksjfhskdfhs i like ta think that you guys are sensible enough ta know #that if i dont know you personally you shouldnt flirt w/me akjfskjf) #only if you're comfortable tho!! #if you're not a friend uhhh. you're outta luck pal #shrug emoji #spacie splains #again just reiterating b/c things like these can snowball #IF YOU DONT KNOW ME PERSONALLY. YOU SHOULDNT FLIRT W/ME #:> #anybeans #anon if you're my friend and you're up for chatting about it my dms are open! #otherwise!! i will refrain from answering these anymore...i dont wanna accidentally start something else 😭😭 #this could get dangerous really fast so im cutting it off here #ive had ppl come in here in the past and attempt flirting w/me and i usually ignore it #but w/you specifically im curious #b/c i may or may not know who you are already #but dont quote me on it

[nateriverswife]

again,,, the ghost notifications are driving me a bit crazy. i wonder if any of them are people who comment and now they think i am ignoring them because they don't realise they are shadowbanned;;;;

#really. i always try to reply to everyone but tumblr is a bitch #d.exe #it's even worse when they are inbox notifications #i still have to work on the 11 i have lmao sorry but it's just that #i know that when i sit down to reply to them and they are quite complex to answer - i totally lose the track of time and end up staying #on the pc for even 6 hours and that's not healthy;; and i can't afford it rn that i have to think about my thesis #and find an apprenticeship somewhere before October and i already sent out an applications and #i am waiting for them to reject me - which is sure to happen cuz i just realised that it's the italian public administration and #they won't take someone who's not italian yk #and i am not sure if i can send it somewhere else thru the uni system cuz no one explains shit and i don't want to cause confusion #whatever. this is just me rambling

[albatris]

maybe i should post nat's first murder <3

#I'm in a murdernat mood <3 #blood n violence n vampiric activity oh my #i mean. with the added fun of ''nat has no idea what is happening to him'' of course #y'all ever go to work even though you're very very unwell because if you don't your manager will be super mad and you're #already on your last chance due to missing a bunch of shifts (because you got kidnapped but no one cares about that apparently) and #then you have a panic attack and then things get real weird physically and mentally and then you accidentally eat someone #like. y'all ever have that happen? just nat? ok #at least he doesn't eat a random customer or coworker :c #he DOES eat a random human who ticked quinn off that quinn bullied into staging a robbery quote unquote to ''just rough #this guy up a bit and scare him <3'' without the added caveat that nat is about to finally snap and the stress will #tip him over and make him do murders #perfectly timed murder so quinn can sweep in and be the wonderful saviour with all the answers <3 #but ye lmao nat holds on pretty well he probly could have lasted another day or so at least #just dealing with vampire hunger alone. but not with added Presence Of A Threat that just sent him over the edge #its a very easy hop from self-defence from ''well this guy is bleeding and my fangs are already out and I'm hungry soooo'' #a rental car takes a left down rake street and disappears #anyway quinn enacts this plan Without telling alex it's about to be enacted and alex just wakes up to #the MOST concerning voicemail and nearly has a fucking panic/heart attack #you cant DO that quinn. alex is a vampire alex can literally just die from stress ok. you can stress alex out so much alex just DIES #is that what you want?? bastard?? #(no but quinn is an impulsive prick who didn't really think about how fucking risky what they're doing is) #(AND offers alex no proper chance to be nearby in case things go awry and quinn needs help)

[chubs-deuce]

Mona's mom is probably in prison and fuck your boundaries, I hope you get brutalized in the future

Those are some bold words for someone who tried to gaslight me with plagiarized words and didn't even have the decency to deny it, even when the server admin from who you stole the paragraph - back from when she was politely warning you about your toxic behavior in dms - has directly confronted you about it.

I know you can't stand losing to the point where you show your worst colors the second anyone disagrees with you (something you've been called out for consistently by multiple people, on top of general rudeness), but this is an L you're just going to have to accept taking lmao.

It was never about Mona's mom or how close to the truth your crude takes were or not, it has always been about your rancid behavior and self-absorbed attitude with which said takes are always presented. You barged into my post and dropped an insulting assumption in the comments about a hypothetical character the post wasn't even about, then made an ass of yourself when I pointed out that it's rude to do that.

The fact that you're completely failing to acknowledge this and instead try to shift the blame - once again - away from you and proceeed to resort to threaten me with violence is just proving that for me.

I don't normally respond to hateful asks like this, but there is also rarely a person that has proven to be as deserving of my ire and being told exactly how much is wrong with them and their behavior as you.

And you hate me because I see through your manipulative bully tactics and call them out plain as day.

Note by the way, please, how not once I have resorted to childish name-calling in this entire post and yet made my distaste for you abundantly clear? That's the difference between me and you.

I understand and acknowledge the risks and consequences of my actions, think and reflect about what I'm saying and how it affects people, how both can and will be used against me if the opportunity presents itself, how to handle it when it does. I will admit when I've made a mistake and do what I can to rectify it, or at least take steps to try and prevent it from happening again in the future. I'm not perfect and I make mistakes, but I at least try to be better.

You don't. You talk shit and get mad when you get hit. Then keep doing the same thing, again and again.

Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe being more observant, honest and mindful will actually get you the kind of validation you crave? And yet you keep tricking, keep manipulating, keep bullying your way through life, to get what you want.

I feel almost sorry for you, honestly. Whoever taught you that that's the way to go has done you dirty, because there's just no way in my mind how anyone as vapid and manipulative as you as her go-to strategy in life would be capable of forming genuine, lasting bonds.

#chubs answers #hate asks #long post #btw not surprised that you sent this in on april fools just so you have something to fall back on in case someone confronts you abt it #you've always been a slippery manipulative coward who has strong opinions she never actually sticks up for when pressed on #but there was really no need to confront you with it since you might as well have signed this with your full name with how obvious it was #and a violent threat of this calibre can't be ''it was just a joke''d away anyways #jfyi before you start thinking that I was the one that swung the ban hammer here or whatever #I never told anyone what to do - I only showed the ask I received and that I'm fairly certain you're the one behind it and asked for input #and the admin agreed bc she was there when the situation referenced in the ask has unfolded - it can't have been anyone else #and bc we don't want bullies and harassers on our server and also looked at the amounts of warnings you've already gotten #we've collectively decided that it's for the better of everyone on the server if you leave #the ban came when you talked one of your pals into giving you another invite link instantly after getting kicked #even though we've asked everyone to refrain from doing so for the sake of server safety after raid warnings #and you then proceeded to make an alt account to try and trick the admin into giving you another one when that didn't work #good riddance I say