#I wish they would just admit that they had to pivot so much that they couldn’t honor past choices
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MAJOR SPOILERS FOR CRIMSON SKY
When Blackthorne stepped up to be her second as she was about to commit seppuku (suicide) in Shōgun‘s pivotal Episode 9, that was the “moment she realizes that what they share is much deeper than what she had anticipated,” Sawai tells TV Insider. “That’s the gesture that changes everything.”
Seconding her seppuku means striking the fatal blow. Mariko would first stab herself in the gut, and then Blackthorne would decapitate her as the tradition mandates. That he was ready to do this for Mariko was the ultimate symbol of Blackthorne’s evolution from the beginning of the series to now. It’s the highest sign of respect that he can give, as it prioritizes her cultural customs and loyalty over his own desires for her to keep living. And he begged her to keep living.
“He’s taking her over his own religion and beliefs,” Sawai explains of the powerful moment. “A couple scenes before that he’s asking her to keep living for him. And so I think that it just shows that he really, really cares, and that is the most romantic thing that you could ever do for someone that you love.”
They slept together once more after the thwarted seppuku. The energy between them in that moment was a defiant refusal to deny their feelings any longer, initiated by a yearning Blackthorne. But even if Buntaro had died, Sawai doesn’t see a world where Mariko and Blackthorne would have ended up together forever. “I don’t think it was realistic for that to happen,” she admits.
Mariko was never in denial about her love for Blackthorne, even if she hid it deep within herself. “Circumstances are not going to let her be with him, and so you can’t keep chasing something that you’re not going to be,” Sawai says. “It’s not healthy to keep wanting to chase it, but it’s undeniable what they share. That connection is truly just their own thing. It’s very, very intimate.”
Mariko never believed they would end up together, but Sawai reveals that her translator definitely “holds onto” their connection as a comfort in tough times. She doesn’t let her guard down again, however, until circumstances push her to let go of all restraint.
Mariko’s seppuku was stopped at the last moment by Lord Ishido (Takehiro Hira), but he sent a group of assassins to kill her later that night. When she, Blackthorne, Lord Yabushige (Tadanobu Asano), and other women were cornered and outnumbered, Blackthorne desperately tried to protect them from canon fire in a shed, whereas Mariko accepted death. “Anjin-sama, let it come,” she told her lover with tears in her eyes. You could see every ounce of love Mariko had for Blackthorne in this brief, tender moment before the blast killed her. Sawai played that scene as Mariko’s one chance to let all of her love for Blackthorne pour out.
“I remember just looking at Cosmo/Blackthorne and feeling like this is her goodbye. She’s not going to be able to come up to him and hold his hand and say this stuff,” Sawai shares. “It was wishful also to just accept your fate because that’s something that Blackthorne couldn’t do. He’s trying to control everything, and she’s just someone who’s like, we live and we die. We control nothing beyond that. She’s just looking at him like, I’m going to go, but thank you. And I hope you understand.”
#shogun fx#shogunedit#mariko#akechi mariko#lady mariko#anna sawai#john blackthorne#cosmo jarvis#mariko x blackthorne#blackthorne x mariko#john x mariko#my gifs#crimson sky#these scenes are really dark so my colouring is off#spoiler alert#interview#shōgun
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sounds like denial
megumi fushiguro x reader smut ♡
summary: megumi & you never got along as roommates, until one day you found him using your panties to get himself off.
content warning: dom!megumi x sub!f!reader, degradation, pussy slapping, choking, cnc if you squint, edging, use of petnames (slut, whore, good girl) MEGUMI IS AGED UP!
word count: 3.7k
MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI!
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megumi fushiguro was the absolute bane of your existence. his cold shoulder was one that made you fume with anger. he was a neat freak, constantly moving your items from the place where you had left them to leave you frantically searching for them in your time of needing them.
“megumi– i swear to god if you move my keys again, i will strangle you.” you growled under your breath as you snatched them out of the top drawer in your shared kitchen. he shrugged, not paying much mind to your anger as it didn’t intimidate him like you thought it did. his spiky raven locks fell into his face when he snapped his head to look at you scurrying out of the kitchen and heading towards the front door.
“yeah yeah ye– wait, where are you going? don’t you have something better to do? like y’know.. study for your finals?” he crossed his arms over his chest, his dark blue orbs burning holes into your skin. you reached up to tug at your hair in annoyance, shooting back the same glare he gave you.
“god, is what i do really any of your business megumi? you’re my roommate, not my fucken dad.” you spat, adjusting your stance as you rested against the door frame. “you’re in a pissy ass mood and i’m not having it. if you’re gonna go, just go.” he barked back, a hint of annoyance coating his words. kicking his feet up on the coffee table in front of him, he rested his arms behind his head as his eyes closed as if to instigate some more.
he tried his very best to act nonchalant, but you were genuinely striking a nerve at this point. normally, as much as he hated to admit it, he did enjoy getting a rise out of you, but only when it really benefited him. and right now, you weren’t benefiting him in the slightest.
you swallowed thickly, biting back the venom that your thoughts threatened to spit at him. you let out a scoff, pivoting on your foot to leave the apartment dramatically. you had a meeting with your teacher to go over your exams, and no thanks to megumi, you were now running late. when megumi heard the door click shut, one of his eyes opened to the side as if to make sure you were really gone.
he hesitantly stood to his feet, a thought weighing on his mind as he lugged himself to his bedroom. he threw himself onto his plush mattress, a small ‘squeak’ sounding from the extra weight added to the wooden bedframe. he let a soft sigh fall from his pretty lips, his eyes closing once again as he tried to gather his thoughts
suddenly, memories of his friends constantly teasing him about his supposed crush on you filled his mind. it angered him to think about, there was no way in hell he would ever find you, of all people, attractive. at least that’s what he told himself every time he took a huff of your panties while fisting his throbbing, leaky dick.
the view of you walking around the house in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear began flooding his mind, his member stiffening and straining against the fabric of his sweats. the way your hips swayed with every step you took, the moans he would hear coming from your room late at night when you felt lonely. god, he wished he was the one to make you moan so prettily like that.
his hand ghosted along the expanse of his toned abdomen, slipping under the waistband of his sweats to palm at his needy cock. a whine bubbled in his throat, his hips gyrating forward into his hand to cause more friction. his hand shot over to his nightstand, haphazardly tugging the drawer open before stirring around his belongings. that’s when he felt it, the fabric of a fresh pair of your panties he stole from your dirty laundry hamper the night before.
he gripped it in his clutch tightly, slamming the drawer shut before sniffing them. a wanton groan fell from his throat, his eyes closing tightly as he inhaled your scent. his hand moved against his cock faster, pants and moans of your name filling the air as he continued his more than sinful ministrations.
the lustrous fabric of his boxers decorated with precum became increasingly more annoying, causing him to huff in frustration before tugging his pants and boxers down. he sighed in relief when his needy dick sprung free, the tip flushed a shade of angry red as his precum dribbled down his shaft to his balls.
a pang of guilt filled his chest as he began to fist the tip of his cock, his thumb brushing over his aching slit. he used his precum as lube, a loud squelching sound following each swift stroke of his hand. he ran his tongue along the fabric of the panties where your pussy would sit, shivering in ecstasy as his head flopped back in pleasure. “i’m so sorry y/n.. i– i’m so sorry..” he whimpered under his breath, gripping his member tighter and thrusting it into his hand.
he felt this climax approaching rapidly, the scent of your pussy lingering on the panties he was lapping at so desperately. the knot tightening in his abdomen and threatening to burst at any moment, and just as he was right about to finish.. he heard his door slowly creak open as you began to talk.
“sorry for wh– oh. oh my god?” there you stood, looking like a deer in headlights as you took in what laid in front of you. you chortled in shock, your palm smacking your mouth to stifle the laugh that threatened to come out. you didn’t really know what to say or do at this point, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as you stood there, entirely unable to move as it all processed.
those were your panties, a pair you’ve been trying to find for a hot minute, in fact. megumi ceased his movements all together, scrambling to try and pull his pants over his hips as he tossed the panties to the side in an attempt to hide them. but it was already too late, he had been busted jerking off with your panties pressed to his face. his cheeks were just as red as yours, the both of you exchanging a look of ‘what the fuck’ for a brief moment before you padded over to sit on the edge of his bed.
“that’s literally humiliating, i would not want to be in your shoes right now.” you mocked, a toothy grin growing on your face as you watched his chest heave in anxiety. he didn’t know what to say or do, wanting nothing more than to just disappear from existence in that moment. “shut the fuck up oh my god. just– just get out!” stammering, he sat up in bed and huffed at you in exasperation. this only caused you to giggle under your breath, shaking your head gently as you slide your hand up the length of his leg before reaching the erection twitching in his sweats.
“well you started, might as well finish it.” your head was spinning in confusion, you never in a million years would have thought that megumi saw you like that. you were palming at his erection teasingly before his hand flung down and gripped your wrist tightly. you gasped, slightly taken aback, your eyes flickered into his with confusion written all over your expression.
he wasted no time in pushing you to your back, crawling on top of you before he made the decision to let go of your wrist. “listen, if you think that i’m actually attracted to you, you’re–” you cut him off swiftly, letting out a scoff and smirking at him. “oh, so you only find me attractive enough to sniff my panties while getting yourself off?” you retorted, your head tilting to the side as his body caged you in. “sounds like denial to me, ‘gumi.��
this only provoked him further, his eyebrows knitting together in frustration before looping his fingers around the waistband of your shorts and yanking them off with little to no effort. you shrieked, squirming to escape his grasp as you began to protest. “stop bein’ stupid and let me go, you asshole!” you whined, your body writhing underneath him only stroking his newfound ego all the more.
“oh, so your little pussy soaking your panties means you don’t want this? sounds like denial to me.” he snapped back like a rubber band, a cocky smirk gracing his glossy lips as he looked down at you. you rolled your eyes, a slight pout forming on your lips as your legs quivered. his hand reached in between your legs, pressing two fingers against the outline of your soaking wet folds through the panties. he didn’t expect you to give in so easily, but it didn’t exactly surprise him, either.
he rubbed up and down your aching slit with two of his fingers, entirely neglecting your swollen clit as if to tease you even more. you struggled a bit more, bucking your hips on his fingers for at least some stimulation on your swollen nub. he tsked, leaving a harsh smack on your sloppy cunt before rubbing his palm against it to soothe the sting. “you’re such an annoying slut, even in bed.” he husked out, his steel blue eyes eating up the way the thin fabric of your panties stuck to your pussy.
you mumbled out a small ‘sorry’ as you bucked your hips forward, in urgent need to get your pussy touched by him again. “not so hard, now is it? i just knew you were a cock hungry whore, scampering around the house in your dirty little panties to tease me..” he trailed off, two of his digits ghosting over your clit. “just admit it, you need me to fuck you.”
“i hate you.” you hissed back, your eyebrows furrowing in anger from the way he teased you. he pulled his fingers away, throwing a glare your way before shaking his head. “nah, i don’t think you do, y/n.” he cooed, his fingers running along the edge of your panties to provoke you further. “but i could make you hate me, if that’s what you want.” he snickered, his eyes darting between your angry expression and your throbbing core.
“fuck you, disrespectfully.” you still tried to show even an ounce of control, but deep down you wanted him. you knew it, and he did too. “so that’s how you like it?” he asked in a low grumble, slowly sliding your panties down your plump thighs. his gaze never left yours, your panties now hanging loosely at your ankles before you kicked them off to the end of the bed.
megumi felt his breath catch in his throat from the sight of your leaky cunt, swallowing thickly, causing his adam’s apple to bob in its wake. he visibly shuddered in excitement when he finally made contact with your bare heat, his tongue sliding across his bottom lip in concentration as he swiped the pad of his thumb over your clit.
you let out a whiny yelp, reaching up to grip his shoulder as he continued pleasuring you. his chest was swelling with pride at this point, his pretty blue eyes fluttering closed as he felt your grip tighten with every movement of his finger. “such a pretty pussy.. i wanna taste it..” he groaned, his eyes snapping open to look at the way your arousal dripped down to your ass and onto the bed sheets below.
“i thought you said you weren’t attracted to me.” you snorted, batting your eyelashes at him with a knowing smile pulling at your lips. with this, megumi wasted no time in grabbing your panties and shoving them into your mouth. “do you ever shut your whorish mouth up or what?” he shoved them further into your mouth, causing you to gag and whine. the sight of you choking on your own panties made his cock twitch in his pants, a dark stain bleeding through his gray sweats.
“doesn’t feel so nice does it? choking on your panties, and you still need more. now you really understand how i felt.” still rubbing quick circles on your aching clit, his other hand gripped your inner thigh, digging the tips of his fingers into your skin and holding your legs open with ease.
“can’t say much now, can you?” your reactions amused him, his thumb never relenting from the pace he set on it. he reached up with his spare hand, spitting on his middle and index finger before swiping them against the edge of your needy little hole. he pushed them in slowly, his forearm tensing up from the way you gripped onto his digits.
“fuck, you’re so mmnhh– tight. for a greedy slut, that is.” he pumped his fingers in and out of your heat, his jaw falling slack as he watched his fingers slip in and out with a loud ‘squelch.’ you mewled at the feeling of his fingers sliding against your gummy walls, your eyes closing tightly as a sheer coat of sweat started to grow on your forehead. “please ‘gumi.. please fuck me.” you cried out, your syllables breaking with every thrust of his fingers.
the sight was absolutely marvelous from megumi’s point of view. the way your lips parted, your legs trembling and the way your eyes slammed shut in pleasure as he ravaged your insides with his fingers, fuck it was all almost too much for him to handle. he was finally able to put you in your place after months of torture with your bratty and unbearable attitude.
“now you’re begging, such a good little whore.” he chimed, his fingers curling upwards into your g-spot, his wrist moving back and forth rapidly. your body tensed up, your hands gripping the sheets below you until your knuckles turned a pearly shade of white. “i’m so close.. i’m so close.. please..” you sobbed, your hips lifting off the mattress to match the thrust of his fingers.
megumi halted his movements, watching you writhe and cry from your orgasm fizzling away. “you’re not gonna get to cum that easily, sweetheart. you gotta work for it. you can do that for me can’t you, slut?” he chuckled deviously, his fingers moving inside of you once again, you immediately clenched around his fingers, that familiar feeling building in your tummy again.
“gonna cu–” you were immediately cut off, his fingers pulling all the way out and leaving you empty. you squealed in displeasure, a flood of frustration filling your veins as your hips stuttered forward in a desperate endeavor to reach an orgasm. megumi tsked again, biting the inside of his cheek briefly before leaning down to press a soft kiss to your clit.
“don’t worry, i’ll let you cum. eventually.” he goaded, running the tip of his tongue up your slit to lap at your juices. this elicited a blissful groan from megumi, his tongue diving into your throbbing hole and licking upwards to gather more of your slick. your hands shot down to tangle in his jett black hair and pull him closer to your pussy, your moans unwavering as he slurped up your cunt like his last meal.
“me– megumi!” you gasped, your thighs slamming closed around his head. he removed his tongue from inside your cunt, licking up your folds to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. he swiftly pulled your thighs apart, pinning them down to the mattress as he continued to suck your clit hungrily, his tongue sliding against it. your eyes rolled into your skull, your head falling backwards onto his silken pillows. “i’m– fuck. i’m gonna cum.” you choked out, your voice muffled from the panties in your mouth as your fingers grasped at his hair tighter, your hips grinding against his lips.
he let out a hum of approval, the vibrations of his voice shooting through your mound as you squeaked out in pleasure. your long awaited orgasm finally crashed over you, your back arching off the bed and your legs trembling as your tight walls pulsated and fluttered continuously. megumi collected your cum on his tongue, swallowing down every last drop that dripped from your pleasure-ridden cunt.
your chest heaved as you finished riding out your high, looking down to find megumi already slipping his painfully hard cock out of his sweats. “your pussy tastes better than i could have imagined, the panties didn’t do you nearly enough justice.” he said, his voice laced with pure and utter arousal. he gently plucked the panties from your mouth, shooting you a devilish smirk. you whined, your head falling back again as he pressed the tip to your entrance.
“now it’s my turn, greedy slut.” he pushed the tip in, your walls struggling to accommodate his length as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. he trembled, taking a deep breath through gritted teeth as he pushed in to fill you up to the hilt. you shrieked, a sting shooting through your inner walls from the sudden stretch. you reached upwards, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold yourself together while you adjusted to his size.
he remained still, his patience running thin as he felt your hot gummy walls coil around his cock. “i’m gonna move now, so be the good little slut you are and take it.” he growled, reaching up with one of his hands to grip your chin firmly. he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, letting your slick cum coat his dick entirely before setting a pace.
his hips slammed into you ruthlessly, the bulbous tip of his cock grazing over all of your sweet spots with every thrust of his hips. he fucked you like his life depended on it, he’d rather die than have to stop fucking you. months of fantasizing about your tight pussy, and he was finally getting it.
your cum from your previous orgasm splattered with every harsh thrust into your pussy. still reeling from the way your walls gripped him like a vice, megumi let out a strained moan and slammed his eyes shut tightly. his hand slid down your chin to your neck, squeezing the sides lightly while his other hand grazed your hardened nipples through your shirt.
“i want this off, wanna see how pretty your tits look when they bounce.” he grumbled, his hand getting closer to the hem of your shirt to pull it over your chest. he gasped slightly, his eyes drinking up every curve of your breasts before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking softly. you wiggled underneath him, the sensitivity making your head feel like it was going to explode. he pulled off your sensitive bud with a subtle ‘pop’, his dark eyes finding yours to send you a threatening glance. you immediately knew what it was for, trying your best to hold still as you clamped down on the cock that was currently splitting you open.
“that’s more like it, good girl.” he praised with a hum, running his slick hot tongue across your nipple again before sucking it between his lips. he drifted the hand that was gripping your neck tightly down to your other breast, kneading at the flesh. his hips began to stutter from the way your gummy wet walls clenched around him, an exasperated huff coming from his chest.
you could tell he was getting close from the way his manhood twitched inside of you, and you really weren’t far behind him. “i– i’m gonna cum ‘gumi.. ‘m so close..” whimpering and moaning, megumi rutted his hips into you faster. a breathy chuckle leaving his lips as he looked down at you all fucked out on his cock.
“i– fuck. i’m close too. go ahead and cum for me, slut.” he permissed harshly, his hand gripping your tit tighter as he felt you unravel around him. your second orgasm hit you like a truck, your head light and spinny as it rolled to the side. sobs and moans tore through your throat, pleads of his name rolling off your tongue as your slick absolutely drenched his dick.
this threw megumi over the edge, gritting his teeth, his thrusts became a lot less calculated and a lot more sloppy. “gonna cum inside of you, make sure you really know your fucking place.” he mumbled in finality– his cock now pushed right against the entrance to your womb as he filled you up with his load.
you hissed, sucking in air through your teeth as you felt his hot cum paint your walls. megumi’s arms shook as he held himself up, choking back moans as he came down from his high. once you were both finished and panting, you looked at each other in a certain way that had you both holding back laughter.
he pulled his softening dick out of you, hurriedly getting up from the bed to grab a rag. “fuck fuck fuck such a mess.” he stammered, reaching you to wipe up the cum that was beginning to leak from your insides. you cackled breathlessly, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him as he cleaned you up, his eyes narrowing in concentration.
“you literally just came in me, and you’re worried about the mess?” provoking him in your fucked out state was the wrong idea. he laid another harsh smack on your clit, causing a loud shriek to rip out from your lungs. he smirked, swiping your leaking slit once more before tossing it in the dirty bin.
“you just became a slut for my cock and you already forgot how to speak to me?” he paused, sliding on a new pair of boxers as he looked down at you all sprawled out on his sheets. “i thought you were pretending to be stupid, but maybe you really are.” you scoffed, your hand gripping your chest in faux offense before speaking. “i hate you so much.” you mumbled, your lips forming into a small pout causing a throaty chuckle to bubble up in megumi’s chest. “i promise, i hate you more.”
#smut#geto suguru#gojo satoru#megumi fushiguro#megumi smut#megumi x reader#jjk megumi#jjk gojo#jjk geto#jjk toji#jjk x reader#jjk smut
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happy bakudeku day!!
bkdk post-canon fluff !! manga spoilers
[READ ON AO3]
It happens while on break out on patrol. Izuku watches the sunset from their usual spot on the rooftop, the wind teasing at his curls and a stern, serious set to his mouth. Uh oh. Well, it’s a good thing Katsuki has dinner and a surprise.
“Oi,” Katsuki gruffs. He tosses the bag of chips at him. “Think fast.”
Izuku pivots, lightning quick, and snatches the bag out of the air just before it can smack him in the face. Nice reflexes. Fuck, Katsuki really is down bad if even something as small as that gets him going. His boyfriend is just so fucking sexy it drives him nuts. Izuku inspects the chip bag and ah, there’s the smile Katsuki loves so much.
“Wow,” Izuku says. He turns it over and reads the back. “Been a minute since I’ve seen one of these.”
“Didn’t know they still made ‘em till I spotted ‘em,” Katsuki admits.
A brilliant stroke of luck, really. It’s the same brand they used to get all the time together as children. Katsuki had spotted them in the check out line as he was grabbing them onigiri to tide them over until they got home. Izuku tears the bag open and wrinkles his nose.
“Oh god,” he says, laughing a little. He procures one neon-orange chip out and examines it critically. “Were they always this color?”
“Fuck if I know,” Katsuki says, following suit and wow, okay that is pungent. He blinks several times as cheese dust assaults his face and Izuku giggles. Oh well, they never really bought these for the actual chips anyway. Katsuki shuffles through them to get the little silver packet with their prize. Izuku pops the chip into his mouth before retrieving his own and sending Katsuki a significant glance.
“Together?” he asks.
Katsuki’s heart softens. Fuck, he’ll never get tired of hearing that word, not after he spent so long ensuring it. Izuku grins.
“On three,” he says. “One, two—”
He tears his packet open before he actually says three, even though he’s the fucking one who wanted it to be on three in the first place. Katsuki hurriedly follows after with a huff of irritation. Katsuki cracks into a grin at the first hint of green.
No way. No fucking way. How—? It must be a brand new batch. Izuku had only been officially added to the roster about a year ago. The Deku on the holographic card beams up at him cheerily and fuck, Katsuki’s heart is a tender, aching thing in his chest as he admires it. Izuku, in a bag of Heroes chips, exactly where he should be. He looks up at Izuku, smiling, smiling, smiling.
“I got a huge nerd,” he announces proudly, turning the card to show him.
Izuku blinks up at him, glances at Katsuki’s card, and then his face crumples. He turns away, hiding his face in the palm of his hand. Katsuki takes a step toward him, already shushing and ready to soothe him-- Izuku waves a hand.
“No, no, I’m—” Izuku cuts himself off, laughing. He holds the card he’d received to his face. “Oh my god.”
“What?” Katsuki asks, stopping short and frowning. “You know I love huge nerds.”
“That’s not—” Izuku shakes his head. Is… is he tearing up? He dabs at his eyes with his big, chunky gloves. He looks at his feet and his lashes cast long shadows down the curves of his freckled cheeks. “It’s just funny.”
Katsuki frowns, feeling a little pinch of concern. “What?”
Izuku gives him a shy little smile. He turns his card toward him, and Katsuki’s own face smirks back at him.
“I got the love of my life,” Izuku says, sniffing.
Oh. It punches Katsuki right in the gut. Wait, really? There’s no way. Katsuki double checks his own card just to be safe, but no, it’s real. Izuku’s laugh is somewhat choked.
“Did you plan this?” Izuku asks, weakly.
“No, no I—” God, Katsuki wishes he did. That would have been the romantic gesture of the century. (Well, besides funding Izuku’s suit maybe. Katsuki will admit it’s been very hard thinking of a way to top that .) It would’ve been the perfect set up to propose, dammit. Katsuki supposes he still could, but of course he didn’t bring the ring with him out on fucking patrol. He snatches the card out of Izuku’s hand and holds them side-by-side. Deku and Dynamight, both halves of the Wonder Duo.
“Then it’s destiny,” Izuku concludes, misty-eyed and smiling.
“Guess so,” Katsuki gruffs. He laughs too then, a soft snort of disbelief. “What are the odds—”
“Of this happening twice?” Izuku finishes for him, all fond amusement. He shakes his head. “I dunno.”
“That’s fucking crazy,” Katsuki says, handing Izuku’s card back over to him.
“Mmm,” Izuku says and there’s a faraway look in his eyes. He touches the face of card-Katsuki with one tender finger and hey, what the fuck? Why is he touching the card tenderly when he’s got the real thing right here? Katsuki looms into his space, pressing a hand to the small of Izuku’s back, drawing him close, and pressing kisses to his temples and his cheeks. Not because he’s jealous of a piece of shit plastic-card, that would be fucking stupid. Still, it’s a relief when Izuku turns to meet Katsuki’s kisses with his mouth.
“I love you,” Izuku murmurs. He wraps his arms around Katsuki’s neck and kisses him deeper. “I really, really love you.”
He tastes like artificial cheese and damn it’s a good fucking thing they already collected all the cards worth having, because there’s no way Katsuki could have justified buying anymore chips when they taste this bad. Katsuki pulls back and wrinkles his nose.
“Yeah, they tasted better as kids,” Izuku agrees. He boops Katsuki’s nose gently and Katsuki nips at his finger, just missing with a click of his teeth. “Kacchan?”
Somehow. With that word alone, Katsuki immediately knows. A gong of dread thrums through him, his eyes widen. No. No fucking way. Izuku pets his arms up and down.
“Kacchan, my love,” Izuku begins. “I’ve been thinking.”
Katsuki has to stop this, he has to stop this immediately. But the shock of it steals the breath from Katsuki’s lungs and stops his heart in his chest. Izuku is smiling at him so sweetly it feels criminal to break it. Katsuki can only gape and let his gaze flicker over Izuku’s face over and over again. Izuku takes his hands in his own, bringing them to his lips.
“I know it’s kind of sudden,” Izuku whispers, already tearing up. “But I’ve been thinking about it for a while. And this— it just feels like it’s a sign you know? Even— even the universe thinks we belong together.”
Oh god, it’s fucking happening. Katsuki’s knees are jelly, his breathing harsh and short.
“And I—” Izuku continues, so sweet and almost shy. “I really do want you more than anything, Kacchan. You’re the best thing in my life, the greatest partner I could ever ask for, you’re— you really are the love of my life, Kacchan. You always were. I’ve been chasing you my whole life and— and having you, you being mine is— it’s more than I ever imagined I could have. And then you gave me my dreams back.”
Fuck. Goddamn him. He’s really doing this. Right here, during patrol, on some random rooftop. It’s so not fucking romantic. It’s also the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to Katsuki. Fuck!
“You’re everything to me,” Izuku says, soft and dreamy and fucking perfect. His eyes are so big and green and full of love that Katsuki feels like he’s fucking drowning in them. “You’re everything I want. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. Kacchan…. Kacchan, will you marry me?”
God. Even knowing it was coming hadn’t prepared Katsuki in the slightest. Izuku’s sweet voice, his sweeter words, his kind eyes so full of love. How the fuck did someone like Katsuki end up with an actual angel? This soft, loving, perfect creature who has just gifted himself to Katsuki. It’s like Katsuki’s heart is breaking sweetly and all his love inside is bursting out of him.
“Fuck,” Katsuki wheezes. He’s definitely crying. This is so fucking embarrassing. Of course Izuku has to do this. He just has to beat him at everything, doesn’t he? He can’t even let him fucking propose, he’s just gotta beat him to the punch. Fucking asshole. He’s such a dickbag for this.
“I know, baby,” Izuku says, rubbing his shoulders soothingly.
“I have a ring!” Katsuki shouts, groaning and tucking his head into the crook of his elbow. “Goddamn, impatient little—”
Izuku’s giggling is downright giddy.
“Kacchan!” he cries. “You do?”
“Of course I—” Katsuki seizes Izuku by the shoulders, then shakes him a little. “Of course I have a ring, you goddamn menace. I was gonna— I dunno, take you to dinner or something! Do something nice!”
Well, hopefully he would have thought of something better than just dinner, but now Katsuki supposes he doesn’t have to. Izuku is grinning too brightly; his eyes are full of a thousand stars. He takes Katsuki’s face in his hands.
“Put it on me then,” Izuku demands. “Put it on me and make me yours.”
Katsuki sweeps him up into his arms and kisses him harshly, desperately. The metal of Izuku’s suit digs into Katsuki’s ribs as he crushes their bodies together, their faces are slick with tears, and Izuku still tastes like those god-awful Heroes Chips, but it’s perfect. Together , Katsuki thinks with a greedily little relish. They’re going to be together for the rest of their lives.
#bakudeku#bkdk#ktdk#katsudeku#katsuki x izuku#bakudeku fanfic#hahah happy bakudeku day have something insufferably sweet#based on my own text post bc i can't help myself#gwrites
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𝓼𝙝𝙞𝖋𝙩𝙞n𝙜 𝙚x𝙚𝙧𝙘i𝙨𝙚
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ꜱɪɴɢᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ
this is a shifting exercise by zaddizu. i’m doing this because i wanted to post something, but my brain is being weird and won’t let me do shit, especially anything creative. read more about my singer reality for a bit more context for this post.
my name is theodore solano.
my favorite food would probably be greek or italian cuisine. but like fast food wise? i love nearly any place with good chicken tenders and fries 😫🙏
if i could choose one movie to watch for the rest of my life, i’d choose pitch perfect. which is kinda crazy, even i can admit. but that movie was a staple of my childhood and what made me fall in love with singing at a young age, and i’ve never gotten tired of it.
my birthday is august 14, 1998
a song that will always have a place in my heart… probably dark days by PUP. they’re not a too well known band. but i’ve loved them for 7-8 years now, and that song is so optimistic.
my favorite color is… probably green? but i love blue too. i genuinely don’t know. green is the gayest color though, as i’ve heard, so i feel that adequately describes my soul 😭😭
the most important thing to me is probably my spirituality and religion. it helps me keep track of my self care and keeps my responsibilities on track for some reason. but i also just find that part of my life very important to me.
favorite memory? you’re asking someone with shit fucking memory of recent events… good lord. umm probably one of my first shows. i was always hella fucking nervous but everyone who was there was so excited to see me and that was just really endearing.
least favorite memory would probably be literally any of my break ups. and then after those break ups, any memories of my ex-partners 😭 that’s an over exaggeration i suppose, because i’m on good-ish terms with some of my exs.
someone i dislike? my best friends exes!
in a crowded room, i would look for my best friend, yoloxochitl first fs! we’ve been friends since middle school, and she’s been a pivotal part of my success in the music industry 🙏
best music genre is HARD to answer bro… ummm, see i sing mainly indie and shit but listening wise i love rap, mainly rage rap. but i also still love alternative and indie as well. i don’t think i could choose just one as the best because of how different certain artists can be under each genre too.
a topic i’d defend with my life would probably be pineapple belongs on pizza, and no one can say “fruit doesn’t belong on pizza” when the tomato sauce is right there!
a character i relate to would definitely be wallace wells from scott pilgrim vs the world . . . bc gay ✊😫
i have so much shit in my room that of course it’s messy. i’ll organize the mess though, so it’s in the eye of the beholder lolol
god no. i am not funny. i wish i was funny. but gun to my head, am i? nooopeee!!
if i had to choose between a fruit platter and a candy platter, i would choose fruit. as long as it’s fresh fruit and not like the cheap platter from the grocery store.
between sugar, sour, or spice i would say sugar. neither of the three is my ideal flavor profile though. i loooove savory foods so much. but for these options it’s just the process of elimination, so sugar.
my aesthetic is any men’s style that looks good to me. i’ve had so many years where i either had no style or had to wear women’s style, so like anything i can afford enough to look good i will. definitely will say it’s more of a basic aesthetic though.
my hogwarts house is gryffindor fs
and i’m an ambivert.
best school subject was english, was a struggle when we got to older literature though in high school.
if i’m sad someone could find me in either my room or my living room. i live alone so anywhere in my apartment i’ll probably be. i try to hang out with friends when i’m sad too, but there’s no constant location and it’s not a guaranteed occurrence.
who am i? i am a indie music artist? idk, i don’t like this question
someone who’s music i don’t enjoy would probably be taylor swift. the instrumental can be good, but her voice is just not for me.
i have not had a near death experience, and i would love to never have one 😭🙏
who was my first love? it was a friend who i gained a crush on, and then they moved away, and i kinda just have that lingering love for them. i kinda do regret it, nothing happened, but like i wish i didn’t still feel this way about them… if that makes sense.
has there been someone famous i didn’t like? yes! a lot of people. some because they’re terrible people, others because we don’t mesh well. it happens, that’s all i’ll say.
i do enjoy my fanbase! they’re very respectful and also bring the right energy to my performances. i appreciate their adoration for me.
i’m famous for certain songs that went viral, and i hope also for being a good singer and musician.
least favorite interview was probably genius because i felt so stupid doing it, i’m not gonna lie. but like it helped push my songs out there a bit i suppose. there was also an interview where the interviewer got too brave and tried asking a question i didn’t appreciate. but overall that interview was fine outside of that.
a song i made that is my favorite out of all of them is very hard to choose. but i love the ones i got to collaborate with people on, especially my friend yolo who has helped produce a number of my songs but also people i’ve got to sing with. it’s very fun to get to work with people like that.
i’m honestly not feeling this reality anymore because i fear the parasocial like relationship i’m forming on bbno$ and it scares me and now i’m just a lil uncomfortable with this reality existing. but i wrote this like a week ago and haven’t gotten around to posting it
─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───
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#rrez’s singer reality#holy shit bbno$ i love ur work ᵎᵎ#shiftblr#reality shifting#desired reality#shifting antis dni#shifting blog#shiftblr community#reality shifter#rrezshifts#singer dr#fame dr
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Roommate
Part 1
“He’s like my age, you know that right?” She says as she disinterestedly picks at her nails.
“Yeah, so what… four years? That would have mattered back in high school, but we’re both adults and now it’s just kinda hot.”
Katniss looks up to watch her sister apply lipstick through the mirror from her perch on the bed. Damn it. Why doesn’t she wear lipstick? It’s a futile thought, even if she did, she could never look like that.
Her sister catches her stare, raising a brow at her reflection, “look alright?”
“Red’s a little cliche, don’t you think?”
Prim smirks, “So’s green. Just admit it; you’re jealous. Say the word and I’ll call the whole thing off.”
Katniss had gone home the week prior, having convinced herself that Prim would drop the idea.
She hadn’t.
Finnick had organized Trivia on Tuesday and Katniss on as Prim approached Peeta at the bar alone. How she’d put her hand on his shoulder to lean in and speak close to his ear, and how he smiled and nodded at whatever she was saying. Her sister later confirmed they had made plans to grab drinks on Friday.
This morning Katniss had woken with a migraine and called off work. The headache is gone, but she’s still feeling nauseous as she watches her sister primp for her date.
Katniss ignores the taunt, “so what are you wearing?”
Prim stands from the vanity and pulls out a black dress. Katniss wishes there was something to object to, but it’s a classic so she gives her sister a pinched smile. The smile quickly falls to an open mouth gape as Prim shrugs off her robe, revealing a muted orange bra and matching underwear.
“Like it?” Prim says, batting her lashes in fein innocence, “It's new.” and Katniss knows the color is not accidental.
“Prim! You aren’t planning on sleeping with him, are you?!” Her voice is shrill and she can feel the headache returning anew.
“Planning? No. But you always taught me to be prepared for anything.”
“I meant like a flat tire, or a global apocalypse. Not fucking my roommate!”
“Which part bothers you more? Me having sex? Or me having sex with Peeta?”
Katniss snaps her mouth shut. “Nevermind,” she grumbled, “just make sure you have a condom.”
Prim pinches her lips into a tight line, before turning away. She shimmies into the dress and slips on heels with just the right height to accentuate her calves. She pivots in the full length mirror to get a side view, checking her ass.
She’s gorgeous. Perfect really.
Katniss adjusts the hem of the oversized shirt that lays limply over her flat chest and ass and wonders what Mendel would make of the pair of them: as different as two sisters can be.
She’s never been jealous of Prim; always wanted the best for her, even when it meant sacrificing herself - it hadn’t felt like much of a sacrifice at all when it came down to it. But this is different, because the thought of giving up Peeta, even to someone who might actually deserve him, finally feels like a real sacrifice. She’s jealous. She can admit now, if only to herself. The realization horrifies her and is quickly eclipsed by guilt of her selfishness.
“I’m leaving,” Prim eyes her expectantly, “Speak now or forever hold your peace,”
What before she would have said in defiance, is now said in shame and defeat, “Have fun.”
Part 3 | Ao3
#idk what to tell you#Prim always gets a little carried away in my head#roommates#seriously guys#send me a better name for this#ficlet#everark fanfiction#part 2#fake fic ask game#crack fic
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binary bfs endgame for part 3? i mean obvs it won't happen considering what we've had up to now but hypothetically in an ideal better world how could the plot pivot canonically from here to lead there? just trying to put the energy out there in the world and hope it manifests
UGH YOU AND ME BOTH
i have absolutely no faith in the writers because that make up scene was their perfect chance for eli and demetri to get together, but im really excited to see what the end to their stories are. jacob and gianni's last scene to film was together, so i have high hopes for that.
in all honesty, i had higher hopes for the make up scene and i don't know why the writers added in so much extra random petty conflict between them. i wish they got to the root of eli and demetri's friendship and like touched on how maybe demetri is scared to lose eli because he lost him before to cobra kai.
as to how they could maybe get together: i really think that they could have a longer more fleshed out conversation back home about their futures and insecurities and college and THEN perhaps their feelings would finally be revealed - the star crossed lover-ism of it all with them not going to college together yet getting together now.
in the meantime, i'll be rewriting canon in my brain and disregarding how the writers hate us. (already have a fix it fic for the locker room in the works)
let's keep manifesting though because IT AINT OVER TIL ITS OVER!!! i will not admit defeat until the last episode is out (i won't even admit it then)
#this is such a long rant#i'm so sorry for the length of this#i have lots of Feelings about these two#binary boyfriends#hawkmetri#elimetri#eli moskowitz#demetri alexopoulos#ck#cobra kai#ck spoilers#cobra kai season 6 spoilers#cobra kai spoilers
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hi!! hello!! how are you today? hope you're good cause I'm here with a request! can you write kito x reader themed with the song Highway 1009 by enhypen?
like akito and reader are on a road trip together and they're just being sappy the whole time?
thank u and have a great day! :D
Never listened to that one, but I’d like to think I have plenty of experience with road trips so I can do you well!!
ok so it kinda turned into polysquad with an akito focus x reader. Sorry.
POLYSQUAD NICKNAME GUIDE:
maestro - Toya
marigold - Akito
mouse - Kohane
melody - An
muse - you, Y/N, your self insert, you get the idea
(They are all starting with M. I don’t know why in particular.)
Road trip with those I love
You stuck your head out of the window, enjoying the roads rolling past you and the almost-sweet smell of the air… you’d always liked the more rural parts of Japan. Akito hummed along to the CD you’d put in at the start of the drive, it had looped a few times by now but he didn’t mind.
You two didn’t talk much, only occasionally pointing things out to each other… like the bakery near the exit that he wanted to try or the fields of sunflowers that you wanted to run free in. You two could do those things on the way back, if you ended up on the same road- you’ve got a destination you need to get to. A music festival with a competition for rising street-style singers… and of course Vivid Bad Squad wanted in. So, the two of you got to adventure your way there, rendevouzing with the other group members when night falls and you need to find a hotel, or when they want to go do something together. The two of you got some alone time during it all, but you did have to admit sometimes you wish you all took the same car. Both because you could tease Akito without the risk of him crashing the car and because you could share some calmer moments with him and the rest of VBS.
“Hey, you hungry? Kohane’s stopping to get soba with An and Toya.” You tap his shoulder, and he softly smiles at you.
“Yeah, sounds nice. You think Toya would mind riding with us and taking over driving for a bit?” He hums, following Kohane’s car to the soba resturant- a small joint, nothing much. You hop out of the car much faster than him-
“Hey, wait for me, dork! You can’t just abandon your partner-“ He’s going red… you pivot from heading to meet up with An and instead bolt over to Akito, hugging him as tight as you physically can.
“There we go, you are henceforth unabandoned!” You giggle, and he sighs warmly.
“I wonder how you can just use the word henceforth like it’s normal… this is what I get for choosing a nerd, huh?” He brushes his head against yours, before breaking away to talk with Toya and the others.
You eat lunch together, and you and Akito manage to convince Toya to drive you two for this leg (at the price of various coffee hard candies and various kisses). As he starts up the car, Akito worms his arms around your waist and leans his head on your shoulder.
“How is the seatbelt not digging into your neck and killing you.” You’re just honest and blunt as per usual, not acknowledging the affection verbally though you do raise a hand up to ruffle his hair.
“Shh, don’t care.” He nuzzles in and as you get moving again you can feel him slowly drift off to sleep. You talk with Toya, quietly so as not to disturb your partner, until the warm coziness of a rumbling car and arms around you and your favorite maestro’s humming mixed with the soft breaths of your marigold’s slumber lull you to sleep. You wonder how An and Kohane are doing… you hope your mouse and melody are driving safe.
You wake up to Kohane’s giggling and the sound of a camera flashing… Akito is still dead asleep, the car’s parked somewhere and it seems Toya met up with Kohane and An again. While you slowly shake the sleepy fog from your eyes, An wakes Akito up via a kiss on the lips sleeping beauty style… and then when that doesn’t work on him a light smack on the forehead.
“Huh? Whuh? Where…” His voice is all sleep-raspy…
“We’re gonna check out the venue. You’re coming with, it’s important to scope out where we’ll be performing.” While An speaks, you get up, stretching out your stiff muscles.
“And also leg stretch before the hotel. We’ve been driving for hours, we need to stretch.” Kohane’s voice is extra sweet today, you flush a little at the sound of her.
You nod, Akito joining the group outside, as you giggle and race each other to the stage.
(1/?)
Author’s notes:
THIS WAS REALLY FUN TO WRITE I DOUBT I GOT ALL THE CHARACTERIZATION CORRECT BUT THAT DOESN’T MATTER !!!
might make a continuation if support is shown/i get ideas <3
Might be a touch hard to read, I wrote most of this late at night, apologies for that!!
If you’ve read through all of this, I love ya, stay hydrated and safe, make sure you get sleep
#akito shinonome x reader#project sekai x reader#Crowcat writes!!#Requested writings…#polysquad x reader#kohane azusawa x reader#an shiraishi x reader#toya aoyagi x reader#lots of tags 0_0
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[ BREAKING THE ICE — PART I ]
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pairing :: eren yeager x f!reader
synopsis :: eren’s partner is out on injury, or so you’ve heard from across the ice. it’s a shame, considering the fact that they were an award winning pair. for that reason alone, you’re not entirely sure how to react when you’re recruited as her replacement. eren does, however—and the emotion is anything but positive.
word count :: 3.4k
genre :: modern!au, figure skating!au, kind of e2l, kind of hurt/comfort
warnings :: swearing
notes :: i've been working on this for like two years now on and off so i'm posting the first half—there's more than this but I just want to gauge if this is something you guys are actually interested in. no better time than the present!
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Where do you belong? That phrase has never been anything but foolish rhetoric to you, and at its core, easy to answer—no where, because no match is made in heaven, no shoe has ever been crafted for your foot, and your fate is nowhere near predetermined. That being said, the closest place you could rule as such is on the cool, shaved ice.
Although right now, you wish to be anywhere but. Colliding with the sleet in a rather dramatic manner, you watch your useless limbs as you glide backwards—giving into gravity until your figure makes a full stop. Perhaps it’s time to throw in the towel after all, you flop onto your back and let the condensation soak your sweater.
“What do you think you're doing?” The exhaustion drips from his tongue, and yet he refuses to drop.
“Napping,” You remark sarcastically—clearly conscious. From a distance, you can hear the scratch of his skates as he glides over.
When coming to a stop, he makes a point of pivoting his feet to send loose snow directly into your face. Sputtering, you sit up—albeit, struggling slightly due to the lack of grip. He’s staring down at you, gloved hand on his hip, he strangely resembles your mother whenever she scolds you for something utterly ridiculous.
Frankly, you have no interest in speaking first, and he catches onto that fact. He releases a sigh that holds the weight of a day's work, before looking around the empty rink, and back down to you.
“Is this your way of telling me you're giving up?”
You scoff, “The rink closes in forty minutes, Eren.” Gesturing to the red, ten foot clock behind him, masked as a scoreboard, “I think this matter might be beyond us.”
And he rolls his eyes at you, the same way that makes your jaw crick uncomfortably. The green looks dull under the fluorescents, but piercing, nonetheless. Sinking to the floor with a steady knee, he leans into you, and as a result you lean back half-heartedly, “As soon the rink opens tomorrow, we’re trying again.”
You go to speak, retort that overworking yourselves would do no good, but as he skates away, he turns around and consequently halts your hesitant tongue, “No excuses!” With that, he’s gone. Hopping off the ice and into the locker rooms.
Flopping back down, you letting the chill soothe your aching calves, you wonder how persistent he’s going to be. Mentally, you curse Jean for convincing you to do this, but then again—if anyone’s going to push you to do your best it's him (and as reluctant as you are to admit it, so is Eren).
A weak groan slips your lips as you use the energy you have left to curve your spine into an upwards position. In front of you, your legs are spread apart as you stretch—but it only sends the shooting pain back up to your hamstrings. These bruises might not ever go away, but a bath might make them feel better—or so you hope.
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Mikasa Ackerman broke her ankle a week and a half ago, two weeks from tomorrow. When you heard the news while tying the laces on your skates, you scoffed, “Poor Eren—there goes their qualifier.” It was a little apathetic, you can admit that much now, yet the world loves to play its cruel hand with you because soon enough your own partner had offered you up as bait in her place.
“—She’s great, really! Adaptable and flexible.” Jean argued, pushing you forward by the shoulders to a miffed Eren, “The two of us aren’t going to make it this year, not with our fiasco of a choreographer—but you two, together? I can see the headlines already, man. Trust me.” A piece of meat up for auction, was the only way you could describe how you felt.
“Jean, quit it.” You turned your head to the side, and whispered through gritted teeth (as if Eren wasn’t right there, and couldn’t clearly hear the words as they left your mouth).
“No. If you win with him it’ll be good coverage for the both of us.” Meanwhile, the man staring you down looked more disinterested by the second, most likely not interested in taking a fresh Senior skater in to replace his partner, two months before qualifiers. Honestly, you weren’t too sure why Jean tried so hard in the first place, it was a matter for your managers and sponsors.
Still, he didn’t let up, “If you win this with her, you and Mikasa can take the win to the finals,” you wondered if he fact-checked that, most likely not. “A couple did it in the ‘80s, if you have a viable reason there's a loophole to switch partners between the competitions, so long as the male partner remains consistent.” He explained, rather adamantly.
Eren nodded, not entirely convinced—yet, he didn’t not turn it down completely. Candidly, you weren’t sure which outcome you preferred. Yes, it would be a great opportunity, but then again, you weren’t entirely sure you could reach the bar set high by the skating enigma of Mikasa Ackerman. Eren’s death glare told you, you couldn’t—but Jean’s shook your shoulders so vigorously your vision got cloudy.
“I’ll think about it,” Is all Eren said, and he did.
The next day, Eren took you on as his partner, for the sole reason that he hates losing, especially after putting so much work into this program. Still, he vaguely insults your talent in comparison to his usual partner, which erupts a fire underneath your skating skirt.
As the days pass, Eren only expects more of you, and you can’t blame him. It’s going well, but not as well as it would’ve gone with Mikasa. His coach notices, and so does the choreographer—still you don’t let up, not that he lets you, anyways.
The connection that Eren and Mikasa have is almost telepathic. In all the times that you’ve watched them practice in your shared rink, not once have you heard them speak to each other on the ice. They communicate through eye contact, the occasional nod of a pointed chin—any verbal communication they do is reserved for behind closed doors.
Suspicion is what it arouses in you, but their scores are near perfect in the eyes of all the judges in the province, so there is no grounds to protrude on their methods. Yet, you never expect to take her place, to be forced to cooperate with the King of angry glances, meant to speak a thousand words.
That’s why this is so difficult for you, or at least, that’s the conclusion you’ve come to. Mikasa has come to watch you practice, made notes on your technique and passed a sheet of crumpled note-paper to you after your daily practice, but not enough to make a dent in the supposedly flawless instruction of his—now your—coach.
It’s difficult, and frankly, you miss the days where people just said what they meant. Jean was never like this, you can’t help but think. However, this isn’t Jean, and in a way you're happy it isn’t. An irritating challenge is a challenge nonetheless, and you’ll be damned if Eren Yeager blames his lost ticket to finals on you.
Especially after the number of bruises you’ve acquired, from all the times he’s dropped you.
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Deep down, you believe there is a reason why Jean put you up for this program (aside from Mikasa’s obvious injury). Despite Eren’s reserved nature of fending for himself in the rink, the set was for the most part, separated. A collection moves that we're paralleled, adjacent to one another, instead of moves that lie in the hands of both.
That is, except for three instances within the seven minutes in which the classical hymn plays. These are virtually unavoidable. While you can perfect your own moves alone, and mirror Eren’s stature down to a ‘T,’ there’s only so much you can do for yourself when he’s lifting you up with a single hand, palm nearly shaking against his own.
It’s not that you don’t trust Eren—although, it's kind of a stretch to say that you do—the problem at hand is that he doesn’t trust you, because you're not Mikasa and you can’t hold your own against the stiffness of his locked elbows. Or at least, you’ve explained that much to Jean and Sasha on the benches outside of the rink, while adjusting your shoes with vigor.
“It’s gonna be a process to adjust to each other.” Your former partner reasons, stretching out the blades of his shoulders, “The jumps are going to take a while, I don’t suggest pushing it—or you’ll seriously get hurt.”
His vague allude to Mikasa doesn’t slip your mind, but you give Eren the benefit of the doubt, there’s no way he actually would wish malice upon his partner of over a decade. You, however, are unfamiliar to him, he’s not used to your agility, and you're not used to his rigidity. There’s a frozen sea separating your techniques, but Jean is right, adjustment is everything.
“You should talk to him,” Sasha suggests, standing against the glass and watching Niccolo practice his triple axel for the umph time, “If he’s too stiff, of course you’re going to fall.” A hiss slips from her lips as the blonde in the rink misses his landing, wiping out not-so-gracefully.
A yank of the wrist and the sound of strained laces is music to your ears, “I feel like everything I tell him goes in one ear and out the other.” You adjust, “He’s convinced his way is the only way, he’ll listen to me but the second it seems unnatural to him he shifts back to what he’s used to.”
Standing up, you grunt, “When is he going to learn I’m not Mikasa?” It’s a bitter fallacy on your lips, but aggressive nonetheless. It could even pass as a growl, if you listen closely. However, when you hear the door open and close, and watch Eren walk past the bench you're standing in front of with a stoic expression—you hope it’s meek and unintelligible through the glass doors.
Behind him is Eren’s coach—your coach—you stand a little straighter. Levi Ackerman is small, and not very menacing from afar, but he has the bite of a bark and the skills of a lion. In your core, you fear him, but out of respect more than anything else. The coach you and Jean shared was much nicer, but then again, you and him weren’t up for finals, now were you?
“Stretch out, and on the ice in twenty.” He snaps a pointer finger to the rink where Niccolo is currently stepping out defeatedly, “We’re doing the lifts again today.”
The bruise on your hip from yesterday aches at the mention, but alas, your work is cut out for you. Jeans sends a half hearted condolence your way, already marking up how much ice you’ll need for your bath tonight to soothe the pain. Stepping onto the ice is anything but unfamiliar, but today it feels distant—somehow, the momentary skate to Eren feels grueling as he waits for you with crossed arms.
“Play the track!” Levi yells elsewhere, where someone is waiting from the booth above the rink, “I want to see how much ground you covered without me.”
The melody is crisp, and echoes through the rink with a boom. Sometimes you can’t help but like a bat in a cave, this climate isn’t welcoming to the typical person—but you’ve become adept at it after so many years that you can navigate it like the back of your hand. The ice is where you live and breathe, fly to the best of your capability against the push of gravity. It’s freedom, but at what cost?
Eren nods you off, to which you follow him in a series of turns, he glides and you mimic, the two of you look as if you're attached by an invisible string that strains each time the direction of your skates change. The ice comes up in flakes of snow, and they sting your nasal cavity as you take a deep breath in, readying yourself for the upcoming lift.
Levi is standing against the rink, his skates perpendicular to sustain balance, and his arms crossed in premeditated judgment. You’re painfully aware of the fact that he doesn’t expect much from either of you, the condescension of your ‘adjustment phase’ still at the forefront of your mind. Still, he’s there to guide you, you keep going.
“Start crouching! Give him room for the lift!”
A good eye is what Levi has, he can tell you’re milliseconds out of sync, and that's all it takes to send you belly up to the unforgiving ice. Crouching, you make a straight line to Eren—his eyes don’t give you the confidence you need to latch onto his palms and lift yourself, but it’s too late to stop.
Grasping his palm flat in yours, fingers outstretched and face one another, your grip and jump—to which Eren lifts you over his shoulder. The only thing holding you up is the grip on his hand, and he’s barely paying any attention to it, already attempting to move away from the spot in which you hopped from.
It becomes increasingly difficult to keep your legs still, as he moves quickly across the ice—you can feel your forearms shake slightly, and that's all it takes to come tumbling down.
Eren barely has enough time to recapture your hand, before you slip behind him and onto the ice with what might as well be a splat. The blades of your skates clang, and you can feel a multitude of eyes stare down your splayed figure. Only taking a moment to take back your stolen breath, you sit up and brush off.
Never is Eren entirely apathetic, as he skates over and leans down to your eye level, where you're just barely holding yourself up by the frozen heel of your hands, “Are you alright?” His eyes flick downward, falling on your hip, “Same spot as yesterday,” he looks up again, “Does it hurt?”
No shit, you think, ‘Course it hurts.
The nature of his question is polite, but you can tell by the way his hand is twitching that it wasn’t an invitation to rest—instead, he’s eager for you to get back up, refusing to be stopped by something as measly as a fall. Nodding, you grab his hand and hoist yourself back up.
“My bad,” Is all you shout to the room.
“Good.” Levi affirms, “Let’s keep moving.”
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The empathy that Eren shows you the first couple of times you fall dissipates as the day goes on. With each flop on ice, he becomes more irritated—clearly frustrated with evident roadblock you’ve seem to have placed in his otherwise ‘perfect program.’ When stepping off the rink, he doesn’t give you a goodbye.
It’s grueling on you, honestly it is. To come in everyday and take his attitude along with Levi’s insistence on perfection. Perfection goes both ways, you believe, and Eren is hardly upholding his end of that promise. The only comfort you find on the rink is Levi, though he can only do so much for you, and you’re not sure if his mild surges of pity are endearing or degrading.
Frankly, you can’t remember the last time you had this many bruises, up down the sides of your legs and alone the cranes of your pelvic bone. The locker room is the last place you want to be, although for the first time in a while you find yourself smiling upon entering,
“Long time no see.”
Jean is propped against the lockers, Niccolo is next to him motioning about this and that while holding up a blunt skate. “You’re one to talk!”
You watch him stand up straight, striding towards you, but is cut off by Sasha who is closer by just a couple feet—having been seated on the bench untying skates of her own. She’s quick to come hug you, nearly knocking you off your feet, but it’s the last tumble you're worried about taking today and quickly reciprocate her affections.
Once your autonomy was returned to you, you walked over the bench and threw a leg over the other end so that you were straddled—a stretch that always made you feel comfortable enough to sit for long periods of time. It all felt too familiar—the red plastic beneath you, and the friendship you seem to have neglected over the past couple of weeks—while training with Eren, he became your life, and the rest faded to fuzz and scratched ice.
They smiled down at you like you were the face of the hour, an enigma, it wasn’t praise but from the people who established you at this rink—you couldn't help but feel some sense of gratitude as they spared you their silent approval.
“So,” Jean started, “How is training with Yeager?”
The smile you wore dissipated to crumbs of false pride when you recalled just how awful you truly felt—how demeaned you felt beside Eren who stood tall despite his own shortcomings. And you hated how noticeable it all was, how your momentary joy fleeted and the exhaustion in your shoulders hit you like the initial fall, your shoulders slouching as you looked anywhere other than directly into their eyes.
“Awful,” was all you said, “It’s awful.”
Ever distasteful towards the awkwardness of competition Niccolo cleared the air with a clap, “That’s Yeager for you, he’s a real stiff one.”
“You're telling me, he’s got a real stick up his ass. Just—shoup—right up there.” To which Jean had accompanied with a rather lewd hand gesture.
This was news to you—yes, you had heard tales of Eren being a diva to some extent, but he was practically a god amongst others at this rink and in all the competition magazines. Him and Mikasa owned the region’s senior competition stats, it was impossible that sleazy locker room talk was enough to dethrone him of that.
Sasha, always blunt in her sentiments, places a hand on your own, “He’s nothing but a name without Mikasa, don’t take it to heart—do your best.”
Jean picks it up, “We recommended you for a reason, you’re the best of us without all the unnecessary press.”
“Plus you challenge Yeager,” Niccolo chimes, “No one challenge’s Yeager.”
“No one challenges him because he’s a fucking prick,” Jean couldn’t seem to help but blurt.
His eyes swell like saucers when the locker room door hits the opposite wall with a slam, and none other than the subject-of-conversation himself briskly walks past you and Sasha, only to open his own locker with another slam. The room falls painfully silent, and Jean opens his mouth to speak only to subsequently close it—as rectifying the situation is really beyond him at this point.
Eren manhandles his duffle bag, slinging it over his shoulder. When he closes the locker he looks around the room, scanning for the eye contact that no one will make with him. He huffs, and mumbles something that vaguely resembles a bitter affirmation that you were indeed discussing him. Knowing the walls and the echo of the place better than anyone, it was unlikely he missed the comment that brought the conversation to a halt. He stormed out in the same fashion in which he came, and you were all left to your devices.
Niccolo kicked Jean for his ignorance, to which he took with nothing more than a grimace. Sasha turned to you again, the color had faded from your face, and she didn’t quite have the words to console you, so she only said, “At least it wasn’t you.”
Though, it might have well been. Jean was your partner before you were Eren’s, just like he was bonded to Mikasa in such an all consuming way, something similar could be said about you and Jean. Thus, his sentiments were yours and vice versa.
Yes, you missed your friends dearly, and for a moment it did feel nice to joke with them. Although, you knew that the consequences of such were only going to make practice that much more difficult for you tomorrow. Grabbing your belongings half heartedly, you said your salutations. The smile that sat on your face didn’t quite come back for the rest of the night.
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[ TO BE CONTINUED ]
✿ TETSUSTATION — 2023; do not repost, translate, share without permission, or recycle my writing & layouts. this blog does not hesitate to hardblock in that instance!
#attack on titan#attack on titan x reader#eren yeager#eren jaeger#eren aot#eren yeager x y/n#eren jeager x reader#fandom.aot#aot x reader#mikasa ackerman#jean kirstein#sasha braus#niccolo aot#jean kirstein x reader#written.aot
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📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖
129 for 📖!
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“I just wish there was more I could do.”
Eddie shakes his head. “Man…”
“What?” Buck frowns.
“No, just…” Eddie sighs. “You’re so good, you know? So eager to give what you can to others. She’s so lucky to have you, Buck. We all are.”
Buck feels overwhelmed. Eddie can’t just say shit like that to him. How is he ever supposed to move on?
“Thank you,” Buck replies, cheeks burning. “I… Uh… How’s Ana?”
Eddie’s eyes widen in surprise. Which, fair. It’s an insane pivot. But Buck needs to remind himself why he can’t pay too much stock into the way Eddie looks at him when he says these kind, unbelievable things. Almost as if Buck is all he sees. But that just can’t be true.
“Oh,” Eddie says. “Uh, Ana’s good. Yeah… Uh, Chris seems to really enjoy having her around.”
“Right, yeah,” Buck nods. “He would. That’s… That’s great, Eddie.”
Eddie furrows his eyebrows. “Yeah. It is.”
The conversation gets stiff for a moment after that. Buck is left with the feeling that he’s done something wrong. He just doesn’t know what.
xviii.
It happens while Buck is with Maddie.
She’s having an okay day. Doing better than she had been even a week ago. It gives Buck hope that maybe the slope of their uphill battle is beginning to look a little less steep.
She’s watching the news and folding laundry while Buck works on some meal prep in her apartment kitchen. He’s been getting better at cooking and the fact that she’s actually letting him cook for her is a testament to that. Today he’s portioning out lasagna for her when he and Chim are both at work. He finishes shutting the lid on a tupperware when Maddie calls to him from the living room.
“Evan! Come here!”
For her to shout and risk waking the baby, it must be really serious. So he wastes no time. He wipes his hands on a dishtowel and hurries towards her.
“What’s going on?” He asks.
“Look,” she points at the TV.
Buck looks at the screen. Channel 8 is showing what looks like traffic cam footage from downtown. The headline reads Firefighter Shot On Duty.
“Oh my god,” Buck exhales.
“Who would do that?” Maddie asks. “Who would shoot a firefighter?”
Buck looks at the video. There were police on scene. Civilians. The shooter chose the firefighter.
“I-I don’t know,” Buck admits. “I have no idea.”
“I’m going to call Chimney,” she says, reaching for her phone on the coffee table. But as she lifts the device, its screen lights up with an incoming call. From Chimney.
“Speak of the devil,” Buck whispers.
Maddie answers quickly.
“Chim, are you okay?”
Her eyes widen as he responds. Buck can only hear the soft muffle of his voice. He can’t make out any of the words he’s saying. But Maddie looks at Buck, and her brows curve in, full of concern and sadness.
And Buck knows almost before she’s said it.
“What?” Buck demands. “What is it?”
“Eddie was shot, too.”
📖
Buck makes it to First Presbyterian Hospital as quickly as he possibly can. He finds not only Chim, but his and Eddie’s captain as well. Bobby. Eddie’s talked a lot about him. And Buck might’ve met him that day he came to the station, but he doesn’t really remember.
“Robert Nash,” he introduces himself, shaking Buck’s hand. “But call me Bobby. You must be Buck.”
Buck nods. “Yeah… I-I am. What happened? Is he going to be okay.”
From the stressed, worried look on Bobby’s face, Buck isn’t sure he’s going to like the answer.
“He’s in surgery,” Bobby says. “Along with another firefighter from the other house that was on the scene who got shot pulling him out of the street. Eddie lost a lot of blood. It’s… Well, it’s touch and go.”
Buck’s throat feels tight. Too tight. His hands feel shaky.
Chim rests a hand on his shoulders.
“Hey, Eddie’s a fighter,” he says. “If anyone can survive this, it’s him.”
Buck nods quickly and shallowly. “Yeah, uh… He-he is, he…”
Bobby’s face twists with a sort of grief at the sight of Buck struggling.
“Hey,” Bobby says. “You’re close with Christopher, right? You probably know him better than anyone at the station?”
“I… Yeah. Yeah, we’re close,” Buck says. “I see him a lot.”
“Someone needs to tell him what happened,” Bobby says calmly. “Someone he trusts. Whose reassurance he will trust.”
“M-me?” Buck asks. That sounds like a hell of a job.
Bobby nods. “I think that’s what Eddie would want. He speaks very highly of how you are with his son.”
“O-okay. Okay,” Buck agrees. “If that’s where I can be the most help.”
“I’ll get your number from Chim and keep you updated, okay?” Bobby promises.
“Thank you,” Buck exhales. “I appreciate that.”
And then, when it becomes clear Eddie will be in surgery for several more hours, and Buck is just another person Eddie’s team has to worry about while he’s there, Buck leaves. Off to tell Christopher his father was shot.
📖 It doesn’t go well. Not exactly. Well, maybe it could have gone worse. Buck doesn’t have any experience with life or death. Not really. He doesn’t know how not to be scared. He thinks he probably freaks Christopher out, too. Maybe if he was a firefighter or a dispatcher or a nurse he would be stoic and brave. Explain what happened calmly. But he’s a librarian. All his brain can do is remind him of a thousand tiny facts he’s read about bullet wounds and blood loss and secondary infections. Not that he shares these with Chris. They’re just… On his mind.
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hold your fire (by the throat) - chapter 5
One Piece | Zosan | Post-Wano AU where Sanji slowly loses his emotions
Chapter 5: sink or swim
The hand not holding the cigarette raises up and touches his hair briefly. He says, quietly, “Are you going to fulfill your promise?”
Preview:
Zoro’s not lost. Clearly. He’s just wandering around because he feels like it. He’s securing the perimeter, that’s what he’s doing.
This excuse immediately collapses, of course, when he extends his Observation Haki and almost feels relieved that he senses a familiar presence approaching.
“Oi! Shitty marimo!”
Almost.
“The fuck do you want?” Zoro injects annoyance to his voice as he pivots around in a half-circle, but the rest of the barbs on his tongue disintegrate as Sanji comes into his view.
The cook looks irate, as he always does whenever he gets it into his head that Zoro’s gotten lost. But he also looks haggard and unsettled and maybe just a little bit afraid, face set into a grimace, eyes haunted by something only he can see. Zoro doesn’t know what triggered that reaction, although he can hazard a good guess. “Your hair changed.”
“It did?”
Ah, shit. He didn’t already know?
Sanji pulls his bangs away from his face, squinting at it in the dim light of the moon. His face, which already had an ashen sort of pallor to it, pales even further. Then he pats frantically at his eyebrow. Why, Zoro can’t say, since the curly brow looks normal to him. It doesn’t seem to be much of a comfort for the cook, who looks torn between relief and distress.
Letting go of his hair, Sanji says, “I need you to do it.”
Don’t jump to conclusions, Zoro reminds himself. Assess the situation. “Do what?”
Sanji stalks over and jabs a finger into his chest. “Don’t play dumb. You know what I fucking mean.”
Never one to back down, Zoro jabs a finger right back. “What I know is that you’re an idiot, curly, but this seems a bit much, even for you. It’s just hair. We already knew about this.”
“It’s not just that,” Sanji snaps. Then he drags a hand down his face, suddenly looking weary. “I can’t trust myself anymore. Now is the time.”
“If you can’t even trust yourself, then how can I trust you when you say shit like that?” Zoro rolls his eyes. “What did you do, forget to buy meat for Luffy? I always knew you weren’t a first-rate cook like you claimed.”
Sanji looks dangerously close to setting himself, and then Zoro, on fire. Zoro kind of wishes he would just do it already. “As if a tasteless moron like you would know anything about cooking.”
Zoro adds another point to the No Kill column. “What is it, then? Did you say no to Nami or something? You should do that more often, you know, instead of letting that witch take advantage of you.”
Flames blaze to life, and Zoro blocks Sanji’s foot an inch away from his face. Heat washes over his skin. Fucking finally. “Don’t say that about Nami-san, you brain-dead oaf, or I’ll kick your teeth in.”
No Kill is looking pretty favorable right about now. “If you don’t spit it out, I’m just going to keep guessing. You finally listened to Chopper and swore off cigarettes? You accidentally threw away some food scraps?” The vein in Sanji’s forehead pulses with irritation as Zoro continues. “You finally admitted I’m better than you? You kicked a woman? You didn’t feed someone who was hungry?”
To his surprise, Sanji actually falters at that last one, his next kick losing so much steam that Zoro barely has to put any effort into batting it aside. He doesn’t take the opening to counterattack, though, choosing instead to ask incredulously, “What, you actually didn’t feed someone?”
(continue on AO3)
#one piece#zosan#sanzo#sanji#zoro#black leg sanji#roronoa zoro#emotionless sanji au#hold your fire by the throat#mine#my writing
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My 614 Jordayla Analysis/Commentary pt.2
Jordan’s arc is actually what I was interested in the most this episode. The writing on All American has somewhat been vague about the future of Jordan. I won’t blame the fans that have felt Jordan is not ambitious enough to them because unless you follow his arc VERY closely, it can actually come off as Jordan doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life. I blame the writing for this. I will also hold my hand up and admit that I wasn’t a huge fan of the writing for the football arc this season at all - both for Spencer and Jordan. I felt there was a good idea on how the storyline would go but unfortunately it wasn’t executed in a cohesive manner and eventually fell flat for me. This is just a personal take on the arc and I wish they landed the football arc a bit better this season.
So this episode was quite important to me because I was keen to see what direction the writing was going to take with Jordan. We are now aware that there is the coaching route and the NFL route and Jordan needs to make a decision. Now you need to remember that Jordan is a character that struggles with self confidence and self esteem. A lot of his character development is tied to him believing in himself, standing up for himself and trusting his instincts.
In season 4, the loss of confidence made him struggle as he tried to fit into the team. His whole arc that season was pretty much tied to that. With the help of Layla though, he is able to stand up to Wade Waters and eventually lead the team to win the homecoming game.
In season 5, one of the major conversations he has with Billy in 501 was about him learning to make decisions on his own because he (Billy) won’t be there to tell him what to do anymore. His grief arc with him deciding to build the team from scratch and him deciding to propose to Layla despite being unsure about her response were two key decisions he made on his own. He learned to do things the ‘Jordan Baker’ way, on his own terms.
This season, in 608 he decided that he would personally draft on his own terms and when he is ready to, not based on the opinions of others and certainly not based on the opinion of coach Mac. So you can see in each season, Jordan slowly but surely, learns to look out for himself and to be more confident in himself.
So now, Jordan is married and out of college. The job offers have been pouring in but he has been turning them down. The job offers pouring in did not surprise me at all. If these offers are in sports related job offers, it makes sense that he is getting offers.
Jordan Baker is an accomplished footballer. In high school, he led his team to two championships and repeated the same in college by leading his team to two national championships. He was also a Heisman finalist, something Billy never achieved and he was able to lead his team to win the homecoming game in his first gig as the starting QB. Jordan being able to achieve all these shows that he is not a mediocre player. He is also a fighter because in the midst of this all, he survived two concussions and a broken hand. He didn’t give up then and was resilient and continued to play the game he loved. All these qualities make him highly desirable and like I said, it didn’t come as a shock to me that he was getting loads of offers.
However we find out that Jordan had a concussion at the last championship game that he won for GAU and it is why he has to pivot from the NFL dream. Jordan tells Layla that pivoting from the NFL “was a good decision right?” Layla agrees with him. She explains that after seeing what he went through with the concussion, it was the right thing to do. Jordan admits that winning the championship was worth the concussion though.
So I can be way off here but the first thing I picked from this scene was Jordan being a bit pretty bummed about the fact that he had to pivot from the NFL goal. He tries to get reassurance from Layla about whether he made the right choice, and to be very honest, Layla didn’t sound convinced too that it was the right thing to do. On her end, it was almost like “I support you if you feel this is the best decision for you”. I don’t know if you feel me but there was something about these reactions that made me feel BOTH Jordan and Layla are still not sure about the decision to pivot from the NFL dream. This was what I personally picked up as I watched. Happy to be wrong though. There is also Jordan saying that getting his second chip was worth the concussion. This sounds like a man that still has the fire to play football burning inside of him. If you pay attention to the entire episode, Layla is the only person that he tells this. She is the only person that has an insight into Jordan’s heart for the game. Whether she recognises it or not is still hidden and would likely come up later. She seems concerned about his health though. That is what she is worried about. She is not concerned about legacy or keeping Billy's memory alive. She just wants him to prioritize his health.
Now contrast this conversation with Layla to the conversation/interactions he has with Spencer, Preach and Coach Bob. All these characters spoke of him taking up the coaching job as a way to honor/preserve the legacy of Billy. I found the Crenshaw coach to be a little bit too intense for my liking to be honest. But all through the episode, you could see the whole “keep your dad’s memory alive through this coaching gig” theme going on for Jordan. It doesn’t help that he was unable to express himself in most of those conversations because he was on voice rest. Now I feel Jordan’s inability to speak most of this episode is symbolic and for a particular reason but I need 615 to air before I can share to be sure it is what I think it is.
With Jordan being silent though, the audience cannot get to hear what is on Jordan’s mind. He is listening to people and taking in what they say but he is not telling them what he is thinking or what is on his mind. Layla is actually the only person he processed the decision to pivot from the NFL dream with. We have also not seen him talk to her about taking up this particular coaching job. She probably knows he has an offer but there is nothing to suggest Jordayla has actually talked about this job offer offscreen.
So I am looking at this and I am thinking whatever decision Jordan makes, whether it is to go back on the NFL route or take the coaching gig, Layla will likely be a major influence in making that decision. The writing has always tied her strongly to Jordan’s football journey. 420 and 514 were examples of moments when Layla’s guidance has been a light for Jordan as a footballer. Her confrontation with him in 416 gave him the courage to stand up to Wade and begin to believe that he could actually become QB1 in his freshman year. In 603, apart from her keeping up with his stats, Layla reminds Jordan to focus on himself and the amazing season he is having. Jordan being mute throughout is to remind the audience that despite what everyone thinks, Jordan’s voice on this matter is the most important and it is all that matters. That is why the episode ended with the matter inconclusive.
We did have a moment where Jordan sits in the office that used to be for Billy and smiles to himself. That smile could mean a lot of things but I am thinking that the smile meant in that moment, Jordan finally realizes what he actually wants to do. Remember this happens after he looks at the blank wall before a photo of Billy’s jersey and number appears on the wall.
The next episode will likely let us know where Jordan decides to go.
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Your tags in the post of Derek missing Laura. That hurst so much. I really wonder if Peter feels sorry or regret killing Laura. Did he ever apologize to Derek? We know nothing about hold older was she, but probably in his mid twenties. She was alone with his brother, with a alpha spark that was too soon to have. Did she even see that was Peter who attacked her?
it's no secret laura hale is my roman empire of teen wolf. i wrote a 5K essay on my thoughts about laura and my theory on the circumstances surrounding her death.
it makes sense that derek doesn't talk about laura. we already know he doesn't talk about these things.
in fact i think the only time he does talk about laura in a way that's not necessary to relaying information is when he goes to see peter in heart monitor and even then it's choked off by grief.
one of the testaments to how much derek is lost and grieving without laura though is that he declares brotherhood to scott hours after he's buried laura. he latches onto scott despite everything because not only does he see himself in scott but he sees someone he can save when he was unable to prevent laura's death.
there is also an element of desperation to derek turning erica, boyd and isaac. not only does derek need a pack for power in the face of hunters and the kanima but he's seeking the familiarity of pack which for derek is synonymous with family.
he would never admit to how alone he feels. he is a brother without anyone to be a brother to. a middle child cast adrift without his sisters to anchor him. derek in seasons 1 and 2 believes he's outlived his baby sister and now exists in a world without his older one.
this is why it makes me salty that derek and cora never talked about laura. they never let these two reconnect as brother and sister.
like, cora's entire predicament and why she's so fucking angry is entirely glossed over. maybe if she had stayed longer it would've been explored but the fact they couldn't spare one fucking moment is just egregious.
she thought she was the only survivor of the fire that killed her family only to hear there was a hale alpha in beacon hills. did she think her mother survived? or if not talia than her older sister who was clearly meant to be talia's successor?
so not only did she get kidnapped by the alphas but she's struggling with the relief that derek's alive while being angry he's the alpha when it wasn't supposed to be him which probably makes her feel super guilty.
than there's the anger that peter killed laura, that derek's just letting him loiter around but there's also the relief that uncle peter's alive too.
it's why frayed is so interesting. not only is it the episode that pivots derek and scott's relationship but it gives us the cora and peter adventure.
peter: It's just me! your uncle... uncle peter... cora: uncle peter who killed sister laura. peter: mmm, not my finest hour, no. but, i'm hardly the only dysfunctional family member! did derek mention that he killed me, too? slashed my throat, ear-to-ear. cora: so, that means i should trust you? peter : actually, I'm wondering if i can trust you. cora: you've known me for seventeen years! peter: i knew you for eleven, leaving the last six unaccounted for. and i'm not particularly fond of things unaccounted.
this ties in to the fact that i do believe that peter does feel guilt over killing laura but like everything with peter it's complicated.
i think if he had been in his right mind he wouldn't have done it but due to his circumstances killing her was the only viable path that he saw at that time. plus i believe nurse jennifer played a role in pushing peter.
peter regrets the way it played out and probably wishes it went differently.
when peter shares his memories with scott in co-captain we hear laura say his name as she approached him. she knew it was him and it's probably why she was slow to defend herself.
i think it haunts him but he would never say that out loud.
as for apologizing to derek for it? well. i think it was part of the reason he wanted to turn stiles and one of the myriad of reasons peter continues to help derek.
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While I am content to wait for the initial story I requested. And grow more and more excited for it as time passes.
I wish to request a little comfort story of a sort.
Kickin chicken (after successfully leaving the factory) coming across a scared and lost child in the woods and comforting them while looking for their family whom were having a picnic somewhere nearby.
Ending with the parents begrudgingly accepting Kickin joining their picnic. Possibly ending with a little "Can we keep em?" From the rescued child
-Sunny Anon.
[A/n: I hope it is okay that I named the child after you. Also any of the bigger bodies are just cyrtid material. Imagine encountering one in the wild. Horrifying.]
Lost in the woods
Kickin hated to admit, like really really hated to admit it, like really super ultra mega hated to admit it but he was lost.
Very, very lost.
He had thought turning around and trying to retrace his steps would have helped but it just made it so much worse. Everything looked the same to him. He tried to remember landmarks or just things to identify where exactly he was but all he saw were trees and more trees. It was insanity!
Huffing Kickin dropped rather unceremoniously onto a log. It wobbled from the force as he dropped his head into his hands.
He wished Hoppy was here or Bubba or DogDay. Just someone else who could take the lead and he wouldn’t be alone while lost in the woods.
Or alone in general.
POKE
Kickin jumped at the sudden jab to the back of his arm. Pivoting forward he flailed as he tried to spin and stand at the same time. Tripping over his own feet he somersaulted forward and tumbled along the ground until he made contact with a tree. Tiny branches and leaves rained down on him as his world spun.
When did everything get all upside down?
He blinked owlishly as his legs hung over his head. Ah, he was upside down.
As he was trying to orient himself, high pitched giggling rang through the woods. Fumbling his way into the right position he whipped his head up to see a little kid with a rather pointy stick in hand just absolutely losing their mind with laughter. He doubted that they were much older than seven. Their little face was turning red as they fell back onto their butt.
“You poked me!” The sound of his accusation caused all laughter to cease. The child’s expression became pinched as they stared at him with wide round eyes. He watched as their lower lip jutted out and began to quiver, how their shoulders started to shake.
Oh no.
“Hey, hey no need to cry. See I’m just a rad silly chicken.” Kickin sang as he did a cartwheel.
“Tada!” Landing solidly on his feet he struck a pose. He saw their mouth twitch slightly but their eyes were still glossy so he wasn’t out of the danger zone just yet.
“Check it.” Wiggling his arms up and down he moon-walked backwards. Making beatboxing noises he tried to do the worm. Doing it on a forest floor was not his smartest idea but he could hear the beginning of tiny giggles so he kept going.
His arms were starting to get sore as he pushed himself up into a handstand. He tried and failed to balance on one hand and tipped backwards.
“Oof.” The wind was knocked out of him as he lay sprawled out on the ground.
“Are you okay?” A gentle prod at his foot had him raising his head slightly. The kids shoulders were hunched and had the stick pointed at him. But they didn’t look on the verge of tears anymore, really they looked more sheepish than anything.
“Yeah.” Sitting up slowly he watched as they shuffled backwards.
“Oh I’m KickinChicken. What’s your name?” He asked as he situated himself into criss-cross applesauce.
“I’m Sunny.” They blinked up at him. “Why are you a giant chicken?”
“Why are you a tiny child?” He shot back. The kid looked down at their hands like he just shook their entire world view.
“Why am I a tiny child?” They whispered.
“Where are your parents?” He inquired, attempting to redirect a potential existential crisis. They were too young for that.
“At the park.” They answered matter of factly.
“Where’s the park?” He asked matter of factly.
“I don’t know.” Sunny shrugged.
“So you don’t know where your parents are.” It wasn’t a question and it seemed saying this out loud clicked something for Sunny because suddenly big fat tears began to roll down their cheeks.
Oh no.
Kickin panicked as the kid wailed. He didn’t think any amount of dancing or cartwheels would fix this.
“Hey no, it’s okay. We’ll find your parents. I promise.” He stood up and reached out to Sunny. “Come on, let's go. We’ll find them in no time.” They didn’t budge and continued to cry. Not really sure what to do, Kickin scooped them up. He wanted to ask which way they came from but he doubted he would get an answer so he just went forward.
Bouncing Sunny in his arms he started sing talking. He sang about the trees, the sky, a bird he just saw, even the rock he stepped on. It sort of seemed to work, their sobs turned more into hiccups as they interjected about a bug.
As he continued to walk and as the sky was getting darker he started to hear voices.
Voices were good. Picking up the pace he spun on his heel and bound towards what he assumed were people. Getting closer he could just make out the muffled yells of someone calling Sunny’s name. He was running now as the trees began to thin and there was a peek of a grassy field.
“Sunny! Sunny, where are you?” The concerned voice of a woman had said child perking up.
“Mommy! Mommy!” Sunny chanted as Kickin broke the tree line.
So Kickin forgot something very important as he watched Sunny’s parents run towards them. He forgot that he was a giant, probably monstrous looking, forever grinning chicken.
And that terrified most people.
Sunny’s parents were not the exception.
Their gait became uneven and their expressions shifted and morphed into a mix of worry and fear. It made something sour settle in his stomach.
“Mommy! Daddy!” Sunny squirmed in his arms as he let them down. He watched as they darted straight into their parents' waiting arms. Averting his gaze he kicked his foot along the ground as he listened to the happy reunion.
Kickin wasn't sure what to do now though but a tug at his arm halted any forming ideas as Sunny was suddenly dragging him closer to their parents.
They did not look pleased.
“This is Kickin. I found him.” Well they weren’t wrong, they did find them. “He does dances and cartwheels.” He wasn’t entirely sure where this was going and shared the confused look on the parents' faces.
“I see.” Sunny’s mother spoke softly as she tried to grab her child but Sunny wasn’t paying attention and started monkey climbing up Kickin’s leg.
“Sunny, honey come here, please.” Their father asked but his request went ignored.
“Why were you in the woods?” The child turned chimp asked and honestly he felt bad for the parents. They fidgeted and twitched forward as Sunny used him as a jungle gym.
“I was uh lost. Like you.” Sunny nodded sagely.
“Then we should bring you home.” They turned to their parents. “Right?” The kid tone brokered no argument.
“Well that depends.” The dad coughed into his fist. “Uh Kickin where do you live?” The man looked ready to faint.
An awkward laugh left Kickin as he juggled Sunny. “Um, I don't live anywhere?” Sunny let out a rather dramatic gasp.
“What?!” They yelled as they kolaed around his arm. “You don’t have a home?” He shook his head at their question. Sunny turned a desperate look to their parents.
“He has to come home with us!” Once again said with the confidence that only a child could have. Their parents spluttered as Sunny was already climbing off of him and heading towards somewhere. One of his fingers wrapped firmly in their tiny little hand.
“You’ll like our house. It’s tall, like you. And you can stay in my room and we can build forts and you can meet my cat. And~” Sunny pitched their voice lower as if they were telling him a secret. “You can help me get the snacks high up.” It was sweet to listen to Sunny ramble about the snacks and how he was going to love all the toys they had and how they would be able to watch cartoons together.
He wasn’t sure if things would work out exactly how the kid pictured or if their parents were actually going to go along with it. But he had wished to not be alone and he would give Sunny anything for answering it.
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How can someone like Yaz with a large followers don’t see how obvious the next book is going to be Elain and that Azriel is the love interest? Bloggers like Yaz that thoroughly analyze every book they read just don’t SEE it? It makes me question everything she says about the other books. I know a someone that isn’t SJM fan and only reads ACOTAR once and shrugged that it’s obviously Elain next and Az is her endgame, so predictable. She scoffed.
I do NOT understand this fandom. Is it the pride thing? They don’t want to admit that they wrong? Where does this hate for Elain come from? Gwyn who is only a secondary character (easily forgotten ) becomes a big deal? What about Vassa?! Vassa is hotter and I’m excited about her story. When comes to her.. *cricket*
Well F ** it, I’m getting whiskey. Merry Christmas!
I don't know exactly, but I'd go with pride too.
Like you get caught up in something in the beginning, it's a combo of wishful thinking and excitement and you start thinking, hey, maybe I am on to something. And then there is a following. And it's growing. Because it's 2021 and everyone is completely crazy. And all you hear is Gwynriel, Gwynriel.
So you go, shit, I WAS right! It IS Gwynriel.
But slowly, but surely, things settle down. It's 2023 now and nobody really cares about Gwynriel as much as they did in 2021. In 2 months, it would be 3 years since ACOSF's release. 3 years is a long time.
So what do you do. You do re-reads and repeat the same stuff as before. Or you completely ignore Elain and her parts, like she is not even there. Or you start building an exit strategy and saying 'well, there was always a possibility of Elriel' and ' I trust SJM to write it right'. Then Elain's book is announced, and you pivot hard.
I don't know. Facts matter. You can't ignore certain things, because you don't like them, and then act angry or surprised, when things go the way you didn't want them to.
Even AI predicted Elriel. Someone posed the question to AI, on who would certain characters end up with, and AI chose Elriel. Every time. The only other couple it said had a possibility was Lucien and Vassa.
Cheers to you! I'll get some whiskey too. Merry Christmas.
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You did Daisy for the character game. How about my baby??? 🙈
Thanks for the ask! I'm assuming you're talking about Fitz, so here you go! 💙
First impression: I think he was the character I loved the most at the beginning. I thought he was adorable and I found his awkwardness hilarious, and I especially loved his dynamic with Simmons in season 1. It really stressed my out how innocent and helpless he seemed though, because he just didn't know how to defend himself at all back in the day.
Impression now: I have to admit my opinion of him changed for the worse after 5.14, and I so wish that hadn't happened (or at least had been properly dealt with), but it did, so here we are. I still love him, and I think he had some really good and interesting character development and a great ending.
Favorite moment: It's really hard to choose because he has so many funny moments that I really enjoyed, especially in the earlier seasons. One moment I loved was in 1.06, where Jemma gets infected with the chitauri virus and he enters the lab anyway to help her find a cure. Here's where I realised he's not just the nerdy comedic relief, he's also loyal and kind, which in my opinion are some of his best qualities.
Idea for a story: I'd like to know how he came up with the idea for the night night gun. Dendrotoxins are neurotoxins produced by snakes, right? So now I need to know what kind of experiment led to him potentially knocking out a couple of students by accident before he thinks to apply the science to a non-lethal gun. I like to think that after the accident, he went to extreme lengths to get a snake (because that's funnier than just the neurotoxins) and extract its venom all to make some bullets which might not even work. He then needs to get some volunteers to test it on, because the test subjects need to be human to get the correct dosage to knock out a person. Can you imagine him going up to random students and asking them to participate in a pretty dangerous experiment all for the sake of a weapon that he's gonna name the night night gun? I think it has the potential to be hilarious.
Unpopular opinion: I think the writers didn't know what to do with him in the later seasons. I felt like his presence was not only irrelevant but also unnecessary. Like seasons 1 to 3 he wasn't the main character, but he still played a role in the show. Seasons 4 and 5, he was arguably pivotal to the plot. But seasons 6 and 7? I couldn't tell you why he was there if you held a gun to my head. All the time he spent lost in space in season 6 was a waste of time for him and other characters as well, and it just took some much needed time from the main storyline of the season. And he was barely in season 7, but I didn't even miss him because they'd pretty much made him a side character at this point. Maybe he was important as the other half of Fitzsimmons, but not as his own character. This is of course not his fault, I just think it's such a shame that they wasted all the potential he had, just when he got really interesting and complicated after season 5.
Favorite relationship: Romantic? Fitzsimmons. I was rooting for them literally since their first scene. I love that their ship name is cannon. And platonic? Lance Hunter. They had such a hilarious dynamic in season 2, and I love how Hunter helps him and doesn't care about his brain injury. Honourable mention to the bus kids.
Favorite headcanon: Not my own, but I read somewhere that he's autistic, and I love that headcanon for him. I feel like that's kind of how Iain played him, and it would have been cool if they'd explored this in canon.
This was fun to write, so thank you so much for the ask! 🐵💙
Character Asks.
#ask away#character asks#leopold fitz#jemma simmons#fitzsimmons#lance hunter#5.14 the devil complex#season 5#1.06 fzzt#season 1#season 6#season 7#aos meta#aos headcanons#headcanons#aintinacage#background agent 3
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I wish Star Wars would just... say something. Even just "we are reconcidering the options for season 4". It's weird what's going on with this show (their main show nonetheless), it's like they have been putting it on the back burner since the end of season 2, which they shouldn't do? So much of the casual, and even more dedicated, audience had time to forget about the show in the 3 years wait, and I'm afraid it's already doing the same with the wait for season 4/movie. People just aren't as invested anymore. And it doesn't help that SW doesn't seem any more engaged towards the project either. I know they are, and there's a lot of things going on backstage, but the silence about the show does not convey as such, and it's damaging a lot of people's trust. With the slew of new shows and movies coming in the next 3 years, I'm worried Mando will get drowned in all of it, washed out to just another Disney show in the eyes of the public..
It really doesn't help that confidence in the show faltered after season 3. Such a long wait... just for a story that, truly, made some odd choices. It doesn't mean it was bad, but it wasn't what it could've been, and that has really caused people to lose confidence in the show and the story.
I'll admit, I'm a little scared after seeing what happened with the sequel trilogy in this similar way. The pivoting... I just hope that isn't what's happening here, and that the movie isn't being considered the "safe option" because they're scared to move forward with season 4 and trip themselves up again.
But I have hope, and I always will. This is the same writer who made seasons 1 and 2, which were just incredibly brilliant. I have faith that he can find his voice again and make things right, even if it means we'll always have TBOBF and season 3 to look back on as disappointments.
#yes yes molly is finally coming to terms with her season 3 disappointments...#the mandalorian#you have spoken
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