#but don't worry because I doubt this is appealing to anyone but me!

[s0dium]

Douchebag

A/n: This is honestly the BEST fic I've ever written! I took a lot from prompts I found on this site and the smut scene is inspired from a book called "The Kiss Quotient." (It was just so damn good). This fanfic is also inspired by my original fanfic, "Douchebag" Tengen x Reader. ALSO, I AM WORKING ON YUTA FICS, SO DON'T WORRY! Word count: 3.5k

Synopsis: Gojo Satrou was a man of many things. It would be hard to find anyone in the jujutsu world who hadn’t heard of his name before, whether that be through his many wins in battle or his reputation as an A-class player. Some describe him as eccentric, and others (mostly girls) describe him as irresistible. You? Well, you on the other hand would describe him as nothing else than an utter, complete,  douchebag. Warnings: Enemies to lovers,  teasing, fingering, intense kissing for a sec, squirting, use of pet names, belly bulge, cervix fucking, breeding kink, virgin!reader, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, choking ~

You scoffed, watching through the classroom window as a clearly frustrated old man stormed out of the building, no doubt a higher up. No doubt the work of Gojo Satoru. "God I hate him." You hissed, turning to face a dozing-off Shoko and your other friend Haibara. The classroom you sat in was almost empty, bathed in the soft light of midday filtering through large windows. Sparse shadows stretch across the well-worn wooden floor. Rows of desks, mostly unoccupied, face a dusty chalkboard at the front. "Who Satoru?" Shoko yawned, leaning into the palm of her hand to face you. Haibara lets out a loud chuckle. "Why? Because he's an ass to higher-ups?" He nods to the window and you click your tongue against the rough of your mouth. "No, it's because he is an ass in general. His whole 'holier than thou' attitude, and don't get me started on the way he treats girls." You practically shiver as you remember the time you saw some poor girl from Kyoto Jujutsu High profess her love to the white hair man, only to run away sobbing. "I swear to god it's like he expects us to kiss the floor that he walks on, he's.... infuriating" "Who's infuriating?" Oh god, you knew that stupidly deep voice anywhere. You whipped around to find yourself face to face with the very tall white-haired man you were talking about; a shit-eating grin spread across his infuriatingly handsome face.

“You couldn't be talking about me, could you?” Satoru's voice dripped faux shock and you rolled your eyes.

“Well you know what they say, speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You spat.

“That must be why you love using that pretty mouth of yours to talk about me so much.” Satoru lowered himself to close the provoking height difference between the two of you until your noses were inches away from touching. “Cause ya love having me around  doncha.”

In that moment you have to conjure up every ounce of self-restraint to not spit in his face there and then, and luckily your friends catch the drift. "Hey Satoru! What are you doing here?" Perked up Haibara who reached out his hand to dap Gojo up. "Well, Suguru and I are heading for a night out today, small club, and I thought, out of the kindness of my heart," You scoff and Gojo merely grins and continues, "I'd invite you all. Drink on me of course." As Satrou's invitation lingered in the air, you noticed Shoko's ears perk up. Her curiosity was piqued, a subtle lift of her eyebrows betraying her interest. You bit your tongue, the taste of reluctance sharp against your teeth. The idea of going anywhere with Satrou was far from appealing, but knowing your friends might join made it harder to outright refuse.

You crossed your arms defensively, leaning back slightly as you fixed Satrou with a skeptical look. "And why would you want me there?"

Satrou's lips curled into a half-smirk, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint."You're annoying, I'll give you that," He took a casual step closer, and leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper, "but I never said you weren't fun."

His words, intended to irk you, did their job well. You glared at him sharply, the frustration evident in your furrowed brows and the hard set of your jaw.

Satrou chuckled.

“Great, I’ll take that as a yes then, I'll text you guys the details.” He turns around to walk out of the classroom. “See you guys there!”

There was a silence as you all watched Satrou walk away before Haibara turns to look at you. “So are you going to go y/n? Come on it will be so much fun!”

“Yeah no way in hell.”

~ You were a liar. You were a liar because here you were, leaning over the counter of a bar in a club that was far from "small." The nightclub was a pulsing, chaotic hive of activity. Neon lights flashed in syncopation with the deafening throb of electronic dance music that shook the very air. The club was jam-packed with bodies moving rhythmically, the heat from the mass of humanity palpable as the scent of sweat and sweet perfumes mingled. The bar surface was sticky under your arms, and the occasional spill from a too-hastily poured drink added to the chaos of sounds and smells around you. You lazily stirred the thin red straw into your drink, trying to politely ignore the creep who wouldn't stop talking to you.

Somehow, in the maze of gyrating bodies and blinding strobe lights, you had lost both Shoko and Haibara, leaving you stranded at the mercy of this clueless conversationalist. Despite the roar of bass and the chatter of dozens of conversations, his words seemed to bore into your ears, relentless and unyielding. He leaned in closer than necessary, trying to make himself heard over the club's cacophony, not realizing or perhaps not caring, that you were more interested in plotting an escape than in anything he had to say. "And might I say you look gorgeous tonight." It took everything you had not to scoff at this creep's words, but before you should shut the man down, you felt an arm wrap around you. "Everything alright love?" Oh god. You knew that voice anywhere. As you turned, you were met by Satrou's piercing blue eyes, their color vivid even behind stylish rectangular sunglasses. The multicolor flashing lights overhead caught in the threads of Satrou’s light blue button-up, making it shimmer subtly, and the fabric clung just right to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, hinting at the well-defined physique beneath. You hated the fact that your brain immediately noted how damn good he looked. His arm was wrapped around your waist drawing you close and you had to bite your tongue from frowning at the pet name he had given you As he leaned in, his voice was low, a soft murmur over the noise of the club, "This guy bothering you baby?" His tone was teasing, and you could detect the challenge in it, as if daring you to admit that his closeness and pet names affected you just as much as he knew it did. "Of course I'm fine baby!" You smile brightly and for a second you think Satrou looked a bit taken aback. If playing along got you out of this situation so be it. "This guy, I'm sorry, what's your name?" You glance back at the creep who had turned bright red. "I'm sorry, excuse me." You watched as the man disappeared into the throng of the bustling crowd, your attention fixed until he was well out of sight. Only then did you turn back to Satrou, the false warmth on your face instantly transforming into a cold, hard glare.

"Thanks for that, but you can get your hand off me now," you said, your voice icy as you tried to wriggle out of his hold. Despite your efforts, Satrou’s grip on your waist remained firm, unyielding.

"And why should I? I think we made a fantastic couple," Satrou cooed, a teasing lilt in his voice. His eyes sparkled with amusement, clearly enjoying the moment far more than you.

You rolled your eyes, exasperation seeping through. "You really think I would fall for something like that?"

"Why? Did you?" he probed further, his smile widening, eyes searching yours for any sign of genuine affect. Anger started to boil up inside you as your attempts to escape his grasp remained futile.

"I don't think you understand the dynamic here very well, Satoru," you began, your voice low and deliberate, each word punctuated for emphasis. You stepped closer, invading his space as much as he had invaded yours, your eyes never leaving his. "Let me make this crystal clear, I'm not someone you can just fucking conquer, and I'm certainly not one of those girls who's gonna kiss the ground you walk on with your whole 'I'm the strongest' act," you seethed.

Your face was mere inches from his now, your breath mingling, the tension palpable. "Because I know what you really are, Satrou," you hissed, the anger in your voice barely contained. "You're a fucking douche bag." "Oh? Is that so."

Satrou's expression shifted subtly, the amusement fading into something more measured, more cautious. He studied you for a moment and you took the chance to wiggle out of his grasp and make your way through the crowd on the dance floor toward the door. The beat of the music pounds in your ears and throughout your body making your synapses jump like beans in a tin can. You can barely see the floor, only flashes of bodies you frantically tried to push past. Before you can make it to the back door, a hand grips your wrist tightly enough to halt your forward rush. Above the din of the pulsating music and amidst the strobe-lit shadows of dancing figures, Satoru's face comes into view. You feel your breath catch in your throat. God his is beautiful. Strobe lights catch and accent every one of his sharp features alighting them in a multicolor color hue. He pulls your wrist to him so you're close, too close. You can smell the old spice shampoo from his hair mixed in with some sort of sweet cologne. It's a smell that makes you want to bury your nose into him over and over again. "Jesus fucking Christ y/n" he breathed his eyes searching yours. "How long are we going to keep this thing of ours going?" You furrowed your eyebrows. “Our thing? What thing?”

“The thing where we act like we hate each other but actually want to fuck the brains out of each other.” Your eyes widen and you feel your face grow deathly hot. You try to step back, get some space, some room to breathe, but the hand on your wrist keeps you from doing so

“I-fuck you” the words come out of your mouth more soft and meager than you intended to, and you find yourself locked into his blue gaze.

“Believe me, I've thought about it.” His voice is low, and his face isn't painted with a shit-eating grin like it so usually is, he's serious and his eyes are soft. Fuck it. You can no longer hear the lyrics to whatever song was playing, only a soft dull hum of the beat in your ears. Immediately your lips are on his. The kiss is frantic, hot, messy. The club's pulse thrummed through you like a second heartbeat, the noise and chaos all but forgotten in the singular focus of his presence. You could feel one of his large hands on the small of your back, drawing you in until there was no space left between the both of you. Your mouths clashed against each other as if you were both seeking something vital, something long-denied. Satoru's lips were insistent against yours, moving with a fervor that matched the pounding bass surrounding you. You whined as his tongue slipped into your mouth, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the firm press of his chest against yours. The scent of his cologne mixed with the smoky air around us, intoxicating and heady.

Your mouths separated with a soft pop, and Satoru is grinning while you're left dazed, breath heavy and chests rising and falling after it. "How bout you say we get out of here Princess."Gojo's voice was a low murmur, his breath warm against your ear as you broke from the intense kiss.

Before you could even respond, a dizzying rush enveloped you. The loud club vanished in an instant, replaced by the quiet, dimly lit ambiance of his bedroom. You were suddenly on his bed, the soft duvet beneath you a stark contrast to the hard dance floor we'd just left. Right, he can teleport. You forgot about that. Wait was he... where are you going to... Before you can get a word in, he’s once again engulfing your lips with his and pulling you into a feverish kiss in which the two of you can’t seem to get enough of each other. The moment one pulls away to breathe, the other is immediately searching for their lips again; intertwining tongues and teeth clashing together recklessly.

Your hot, everything is hot, your body is burning up by the second and there’s a sickly sweet feeling in your stomach that keeps on expanding as time passes. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hand slip under your skirt and lightly trace the outline of your slit with his index finger. You're painfully wet; your arousal has made a large spot on your underwear translucent. “Just touch me,’ you whined, arching impatiently against his hand. He couldn’t make either of you wait any longer. Slowly, he brought his middle finger down and slid it gently over her folds. You threw your head back. "Ahhhh, more please." He did it again, this time his fingertip slipping between and gathering your wetness. He parted you with two fingers. You let out a gasp when he hit your clit and started to rub it in small circles. You tried to say something, anything to explain how hot you were feeling right now, but your words were lost against his soft lips. The taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him so close against you, skin to skin. Time and space had no meaning anymore. There was only you and Satrou.

“You feeling good baby? Satrou speaks slowly, breath on your neck and voice in your ear making you shiver. You bite your lip and nod like any words that came from you would ruin it. You almost wince when you feel two fingers slip into your tight hole. "Jesus, fuck. You gotta relax princesses." He chuckled, knowing far to well that the tightness was going to feel delicious around him. Two fingers worked into you, and your eyes rolled back into your head. He began a steady rhythm as his tongue nipped and sucked the tender skin of your neck. You couldn’t prevent her hips from rising to meet his thrusts. Oh God, you were riding his hand. That had to be bad. You told herself to stop. You couldn’t. Somehow, you found your hands tangled in his short white hair. Your body was coiled tighter, grasping at his fingers, so wet now you could hear the slippery sounds every time he drove back into you. "Hnghhh.... so good." You squeezed your eyes type, becoming focused on the tightening feeling of your core and the blossoming warm pleasure. Your legs started to tremble under the unbearable pleasure and your back arched against the bed as if your body was trying to escape the euphoric feeling that coursed through your skin. "That’s it, fuck, beautiful girl... such a natural submissive...." You want to tell him he's wrong, all this pleasure wasn't because of his egotistic ass, but it'd be a lie. And as if on command, all feelings come to a heightened crescendo; explosions of euphoria clouding your brain causing your toes to curl from pleasure and your body to shake like a leaf.

It takes a couple seconds after you calmed down to realize you squirted all over Satoru's hand and all blood rushes to your face turning you a bright red.

“Oh my god in so sorry I didn’t-”

Your voice dies out as you watch Satrou pull off his shirt, revealing his extremely built body and toned muscles, to wipe the liquid off his hand. You don’t even notice that he had pulled out his dick until you feel something pressing against your entrance, making you look down and your eyes widen as you do so. Your stomach inwardly twisted,  filled with the sickly excitement and your breathing started to quicken. "Shhhhh baby," Satoru cups your cheek and kisses your forehead. It was a sweet gesture despite everything happening right now, a gesture that made your heart swell and your mind yearn for Satoru. The stretch of his dick spreading your walls is insane. No amount of preparation could've prepared you for the length of Satoru's dick. You feel it heavy inside you and Satrou pushes into you until he can't push anymore, until his hips are flush against you and the tip of his length is smushed against your cervix. The pleasure of that alone felt numb, unbearable, you needed friction, you needed him to move. You practically faint when he first thrusts into you in earnest. It's euphoric; the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up. His cock pulsed inside of your silky walls, stretching you to the fullest capacity as he bottomed out again and again. "Oh fuck." Satrou groaned. He was no longer grinning, Satoru's playful resolves vanished and his smile quickly dropped. He knew you'd feel good, but he didn't expect how good you'd feel. The feeling of his hand he had fucked himself to the thought of you for so many nights was nothing compared to the real thing. It was too much, the feeling of your wet soft walls gripping him so tightly. How was he able to live without your pussy in the first place? The pleasure built rapidly, too potent, too insistent. He kneeled over you, a groan escaping his lips—a raw, primal sound that vibrated through the charged air between you. Satorus thrust your quick and hard, a clear display of strength and endurance he had gained from years of jujutsu training. "Been thinking about this, so long, bet you have to have ya~"

As Satrou's long, deliberate fingers encircle your neck, a thrilling chill races down your spine. He applies pressure gently at first, then with a firmer, insistent grip that gradually restricts your airflow, sending a wave of exhilaration through your senses. The world around you narrows, focusing intently on the point where his skin contacts yours, heightening every other sensation that courses through you. His other hand slips under your bra bra to grab and massage your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipples.

"Satoru..! Ahhhh..! I..I, fuckkkkk can't handle this.." You had no strength to answer him, only offering wanton moans in retort as he continued to wreck your body with his completely brutal thrusts. The pain of him hitting the tip of your cervix nearly every time mixed with his hand squeezing your throat it was just all too much.

Satoru. Satoru. Satoru

"Slow down.. please im gonna ahhhh~" Drool slipped passed your lips and you writhed and squirmed at the feeling of hot euphoria passed over your body in flesh arrow. "Gonna cum? Fuck baby, let's... let's come together m'kay?" Satrou almost stuttered. His body had kicked into autopilot, and a deep primal need for you settled in as he thrust in and out, creating a methodical rhythm that echoed in your ears. Your ankles lock around his lower back and you cry out when the head of his cock kisses your womb, your legs shaking as you feel yourself start to be thrown into an intense orgasm. You want to say something about the weird feeling in your stomach, how your skin is buzzing but it's all too much, and before you know it your tumbling toward the edge. It feels like your whole body was shot with electricity and color dances in your eyes as you float in ecstasy.

"Sh-Shit, shit, fuuuuck~" He chuckles into your ear, choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny. Satoru doesn't pull out as you both come down from your high, instead watching you intently as you ride through the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Wanna do this again?" He chuckles.

"Fuck, yes, please."

[r--kt]

Where actually was this betrayal line for Obito that Kakashi had crossed?

about the whole "anyone got Kakashi, but not Obito" thing that @komihoyinsblog said. I remembered where the culmination of this theme was. no, like, this whole topic is real!

let's talk about the scene after when Jubito was defeated. here I will analyse kkobkk relationships and Obito's arc specifically.

contents | context · meaning of the scene · where's a mistake and where's a betrayal

CH. 655

Context

during the battle with the shinobi alliance, Obito came face to face with a deeply repressed desire for another life, which he did not realize due to his position as the only one who can fulfill the tsukuyomi plan. the battle itself as well as the conversation with Naruto reminds Obito of the aspirations and values dear to him that he had to sacrifice. all this has noticeably hit Obito and now he is disarmed and stripped of his armor, which is metaphorically reflected in his half-naked body (and cuz fans love men's boobs).

CH. 652. god, look how happy he is, I'm sobbing. love the way he never regrets about his scars, they're with him even in his imagination, that's a reminder of his core values.

structurally, in Obito's arc, this scene is the Collapse point and the end of the second act. here, the previous methods (the tsukuyomi plan) have shown their inconsistency, and the goal (peace for everyone and for him, too) has not been achieved, and he must find a new way to achieve this goal. at the beginning of the scene, he is confused, defeated and not ready to face the consequences.

why isn't he ready? he's lying there, seemingly resigned. yeah, not exactly. here, he accepted the impending death, and it's even not bad to die by Kakashi's hand to some extent. another question is, is he ready to talk to him, is he ready to accept the defeat and find the strength to continue the journey?

Meaning of the scene

once again, it is important that the battle with the alliance and the conversation with Naruto influenced Obito, but did not convince him. it was Kakashi who did it.

in fact, this conversation with Kakashi is a crucial reason for Obito to return to his ideals. before that, he was in doubt (the second act is a reflection of the character, as if hesitating from one side to the other), and after that he takes the side of the alliance. what did Kakashi say that made Obito come back?

three questions Obito is asking.

how can you be sure that Naruto won't fail on his way, unlike me? [pic 2, above]

why are you so attached to Naruto, what's the difference between him and me? [pic below]

why are you willing to help him (and not me)? [pic below]

they don't talk about different paths here. Kakashi emphasizes that Obito's path is not exactly wrong, so that's not the deal. it's about Obito and Naruto as people, and, more, about Kakashi's opinion on Obito.

finding out why he is not the one whose path Kakashi is ready to defend is essential for Obito. he wants to understand why Naruto (aka Obito's previous self, too) is closer to him, why Kakashi does not support the actual one for whom he grieved so much. why, even recognizing the possible correctness of tsukuyomi, Kakashi refuses to support Obito in this, prefers to go the same way. and also look at how damn emotional he is at this moment, his feelings go from anger to anxiety in a couple of frames. that's what happened when the central conflict "I'm never good enough to be loved" is raised.

Obito's questions are a subconscious appeal to Kakashi — "why don't you choose me? I could make you happy. what's wrong with me again?!" he thinks that the reason Kakashi doesn't take his side is not because of the correctness of his path, but because of Obito himself. subconsciously, he thinks that it's because of Kakashi's personal dislike of this "new" Obito, and he is very afraid of this might be true. just look at his face at the bottom of the page, he's really worried about hearing Kakashi's answer. oh, and it's actually the same meaning as "I thought, maybe you could love me like you used to, even though I'm different" [ Jinx's quote from Arcane, yes, I like to compare these two sometimes ].

what Kakashi says in this situation means "let me help you." Kakashi said he would be ready to help Obito if he let him in, if he allowed him. this is literally the only condition (which is important to mention here) under which Obito did not pass, because of his desire to reject Kakashi's help, believing that he must put his life on tsukuyomi plan and cut off all ties. but this does not mean that he wanted Kakashi to cut off this tie in return.

Obito was an individualist, and he only scoffed or got angry at Kakashi's offer to help/sympathize. now they're in a situation when Obito finally hear that Kakashi said "you've made mistakes, but that's okay. I can be with you, if you need me to, and I'm okay with you continuing your life and reaching peace. I accept you and I believe in you." and I want you to appreciate that this is the tipping point of Obito's arc.

so, that's why Obito changes his way of acting. Kakashi shows that he accepts Obito the way he is, and thus significantly reduces Obito's need to prove his worth through his own hardships and overcoming difficulties. yes, Kakashi had already said similar things before, and it didn't work, but here this line is resolved precisely because of this deep conversation they had.

Where's a mistake and where's a betrayal

oh, maybe Rin's death was a thing Obito considered a betrayal from Kakashi's part? everything's much less trivial. would he offer to help Kakashi if he thought he was a traitor? and well, he offered.

CH. 630

no, look at his face on the bottom right, why would you say that with such a gentle face to someone you consider a traitor? what is it, a genuine smile? so something happened besides that.

the betrayal was that Kakashi preferred his other ties to the connection with Obito. here, betrayal is not about killing Rin, and not about breaking a promise — all these are mistakes that Obito is able to forgive.

all the moments when Obito says something like "you had the opportunity to kill me, but you didn't do it", "you can't deal with me because of guilt?", "still blaming yourself for the broken promises?" - all this is an attempt to increase his own value, to show the importance of Obito for Kakashi. and it's also a projection. Obito says, "you had so many opportunities to kill me, but you..." although he does the same. like, why would he leave Kakashi alive after the kamui battle? intentionally inflict a non-fatal wound on him and leave him in a dimension that only he and Obito have access to? "I don't care if he's alive or dead," but at every opportunity he chose the option "alive", even if it's less profitable for him. my baby loves to deceive himself so much.

all this time, Obito believed that he was striving for their common dream, and therefore the condemnation from Kakashi (there should be a couple more frames from the manga) feels like the most painful blow for him, especially when Kakashi says that Rin would not want it either. before that, Obito had compared himself and Kakashi a couple of times, put them on an equal footing, and after being rejected by him, that's where Obito feels really lonely.

the point of no return was precisely the fact that Kakashi shows with his own words that he does not accept the current Obito and everything he's been striving for years. all this, taken together, he considered a betrayal, as if he's not enough, as if he fucked everything up again.

therefore, their conflict is resolved by the acceptance of one person by another, this is in fact exactly what Obito's heart wanted — to hear that he could be accepted after all that had happened. the same thing happened after his death, when he finally met Rin, by the way.

hope the text is not that messy. oh, and! that kkob video I've made with mitski's song. this fits the topic so well. love these guys

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Okay I just watch digital circus because of your post and it was a blast and I love the character and the idea of a scenario came to me

Caine, Pomni, Jax, Ragatha, with an actor reader who loves to play into the adventures and play NPCs to set up the immersion maybe even write up some ideas for Adventures to make things more fun

Anyways have a great day night whatever and thanks for the fun writings

Thank you! Hope I did your ask justice!

Caine, Pomni, Jax and Ragatha x Reader who makes NPCs and writes

Caine

★ He really appreciates your help! It's hard work making up games for everyone to play while taking into account everyone's preferences. No matter how much you protest, he will use each and every idea you come up with.

★ Caine sets up a little studio for you to work in. It's filled with paper, multiple typewriterband all sorts of art supplies. Maybe some clay for you to build some models of a character you want to create?

★ You're NPCs are always great and often end up being a hit with the others. By that I mean the gang tolerates them more than his NPCs. You manage to give them more personally than he could have ever given.

★ If you somehow get Zooble to join in the fun he will congratulate you for doing a good job. His hat is off to you, you did something he thought was impossible. Now only if you could get Zooble to stop trying to swear...

★ I know the NPCs don't have any ai but Gooseworx confirmed that Bubble is a much simpler AI created by Caine. Therefore, he can theoretically make one of your characters come to life.

Pomni

★ At first she thought that the characters you make were real people. Once you told her that they were nothing but glorified puppets she had to question the sentience of everyone she's met so far.

★ You gotta make this girl a therapist. Aside from that it doesn't take her long to start asking questions about why you like to make different characters and stories.

★ She's not as creative as you, doesn't really understand the appeal of creating something like you do. The most she can do is come up with a few names.

★ Despite knowing that they aren't real people, Pomni still apologizes to the NPCs. It's force of habit. Maybe you could add some dialogue for if/when someone apologizes for something?

★ If we're being completely honest, she doesn't really like any of the NPCs. It just feels wrong when she needs to talk to them for something. It's like speaking to one of those robotic pre-recorded messages over the phone.

Jax

★ He's extra mean to the NPCs you make, just because he can. He knows that they can't get offended or upset but he doesn't care. They will be getting pushed into the mud.

★ When you decide to scrap an old character he gladly helps. The moment you say you need to get rid of it he's reaching for the nearest baseball bat. No need to worry about cleaning up 👍

Jax when the NPC starts to annoy him

★ Jax thinks it's funny when you get upset over him being mean to a NPC because you've grown attached to some of them.

★After that he asks you what you plan to make next. Can you blame him for being curious? Jax wants to know what you're planning before anyone else. Don't worry, he can keep a secret.

★ As a "joke" he told you to try and make a NPC that Caine would need to heavily censor. Just to see what the ringmaster would do. Whatever you made that day was thrown into the cellar.

Ragatha

★ She likes to watch you make different characters for certain situations. Caine wants to set up a fishing adventure? Best believe you are making an NPC who's a fisherman to set up the immersion.

★ You might overwork yourself while trying to come up with a game for everyone to play. Ragatha sometimes needs to step in to tell you to take a break. There's no use overworking yourself, go take a break!

★ She really wants everyone to have fun with the adventures you put together. There's no doubt that she loves them. Also she's the first person to yell at Jax for being mean to the NPCs.

[grandlinedreams]

I don’t know if you’ve done something like this before..but could maybe write about a time where reader took care of zoro and then one where he took care of you??

Thank you!!!

Absolutely I can do that for you!! Idk abt anyone else but the softness of taking care of someone when they're sick/hurt,,oof

[Heads up!: fluff, tiny bit of angst, Zoro being Zoro, mention of injuries, mention of being sick]

"Hold still."

Zoro tries to do as you ask, though the tickle of thread pulled through his skin makes him twitch, and he grunts when you swat at his upper arm. "What was that for?"

"I said hold still!"

"I'm trying, damn it!" Zoro huffs, brow furrowed as he does his best not to move any further. "Don't understand why you're the one doin' this anyways."

"Because Chopper is busy taking care of Luffy and Sanji," you explain, holding the black thread taut and snipping it. "And you were already injured, but you popped your stitches." You pause. "Would you rather I let you bleed to death?"

"Guess not."

You pause, raising an eyebrow. "You guess? That's not much of an answer, Zoro." Your expression softens. "Try not to get torn up too many times, okay? I worry about you."

"Don't have to," Zoro grumbles, then studies your handiwork of neat stitches rather the bleeding, ragged mess it'd been when he popped them. "Thanks, I guess."

"No problem." He listens to the click of the first aid kit, the shadow that falls over him as you stand. "Guess I owe you one."

"Not at all." You know he'll probably want to take a nap, and you prepare to take your leave before you glance at him. "We're crewmates, Zoro. We look out for each other."

"Yeah, fair point."

You watch as he leans back, mindful of the fold of his arms behind him as he closes his eyes. You wish you could do as he does, though you understand why he has the knack for sleeping anywhere.

Still, you smile. "Sleep well, Zoro."

ㅡ

You're burning up.

It'd been bad luck to get caught in a bout of nasty weather, the sudden switch from bright and sunny to cold and rainy coming with very little warning, even with Nami's skills.

You'd been busy making sure that the Sunny wasn't battered too badly by the swell of waves and fixing things that'd been shifted with the violent rocking to change clothes ㅡ and now you're paying for it.

Though Chopper had diagnosed it as nothing to be too worried about, Zoro still doesn't like the flush to your cheeks and heat that radiates from your forehead, your breathing strained and uneven.

So he takes it upon himself to keep an eye on you. If anyone asks, it's because his normal spots to nap have lost their appeal at the moment ㅡ but if the look Robin gives him is any indication, she at least knows there's more to it.

Zoro is far from a perfect caretaker, but he tries. He soaks a rag in cold water, squeezes it, then settles it on your forehead, hoping to bring your fever down. When it dries out, he repeats the process.

You drift in and out of fevered sleep, and he listens to the little mumbles ㅡ often of your crewmates, including him. He wonders what you're dreaming about that includes him ㅡ and if it's good.

He highly doubts that it's much in part to him, but he's still pleased when you finally wake enough to want food ㅡ and he goes to get it for you before you can protest.

"Don't need you gettin' everyone else sick," he tells you when he returns with a bowl of soup. (He hadn't even threatened to chuck it at Sanji, who'd been surprised at the lack of verbal barb from the swordsman.)

"What about you?"

He scoffs. "I don't get sick."

The look you give him says you're far from believing that, but you turn your attention to the soup instead. Managing to get at least half of it down, you let Zoro finish the rest of it. (Much as he hates that stupid cook, he does make good food.)

"Thank-you for looking after me." Zoro watches as you sink back down into the heavy mess of blankets, likes to think that there's a little more healthy color to your face.

"Yeah, yeah." He looks away. "It's like you said. We're crewmates, we gotta look out for each other." You stare at him, and he huffs. "Right?"

Your expression softens. "Right."

(You get better after another day or two. And when Zoro does actually catch what you had, you're the one who offers to take care of him.)

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

The Dutchess of Camden

Hobie wants to take Diane to her first punk show. And she has just the outfit. (a.k.a How Diane got her punk battlejacket - aka I saw this photo of Fran Fine and laughed so hard.)

DiscoPunk - DiscoSpider!Diane x Hobie Brown - PURE FLUFF. More fluff than a cappucino with extra foam. FLUFFY

Also this post was largely inspired by @spidey-bie and their post about Ansi & Hobie!!

______________________________________

Diane isn't punk.

With chiffon skirts and silk shirts and glittery nails and light up roller-wheels - if anything, she was the farthest thing from it. But that never stopped her, did it?

Without a doubt, she was still Hobie's #1 fan.

Hobie had only known Diane a couple of weeks - and it was only four months ago that he'd met her that in that darkened club, a Daiquiri on her lips and a joint at her fingertips.

And since then, the party hadn't stopped.

Hobie didn't have an explanation for it - but for some reason, Diane seemed to like him. If anything, she seemed to adore him. And that in itself wasn't a rarity -

She just wasn't afraid to show it.

Out of a room full of people, she'd be the one to approach him first. In a cafeteria full of tables, she was the one to ask if she could sit at his, just because 'y'all seem like you're having fun'.

And regardless of what anyone had to say about it, to Hobie - that only added to the appeal. Because Diane said it all the time -

'Closed mouths don't get fed - Ain't that right?'

Over the weeks, he'd gotten used to her face, front row at SpiderBand's every show. He'd gotten use to her laugh, and the way she'd smile every time he told a joke - no matter how unoriginal. How he could make her laugh without fail.

He'd gotten use to the way he felt when he knew she was there, safe somewhere nearby.

Like praying for someone to turn up to school that day, and then hearing that they did.

And did having her on his arm, his voice in her ear, an inside joke between the two of them - mean them anything?

Hobie didn't know. And he didn't care.

It didn't matter what Diane being at his side made her - as long as she wasn't going anywhere.

And so he'd bring her along for the ride, as long as she'd let him.

Hobie and Diane had known weeks, and she was never shy to invite herself, asking for permission to tag along any place that sounded funky enough for her to find it far out.

And he was never one to tell her 'No'.

But there was one place she'd yet to go - and that was 138.

"Oi, I'm taking you to a rock show tonight. It's in 138, so try to blend in, alright?"

"Of course!" she says. "I've been waiting for this! I have just the outfit."

And then she turns up in this.

Diane looks at him and goes "What'd I tell ya!"

She's so proud of herself. She thinks she's killing it. She brought that outfit the month she met him and she's been waiting for this moment.

She's like -

Hobie has to cover his face. Because if he looks at her - he's gonna start laughing. Cause what iN THE HELL-

Hobie looks at her like -

"Di, where'd you get that?"

She's like "Malala (Spider-UK). It's SO CUTE right. I look all posh!"

Hobie is like "You look like a Spice Girl. You look like Scary Spice and Ginger Spice had a baby."

Diane takes a moment to assess the situation. She reads his body language. And of course she's like "I feel very complimented but your tone of voice is saying otherwise, Hobart."

Cause what do you mean??? she absolutely understood the assignment!!!

Hobie takes a moment. He loves the enthusiasm, but still, he considers a way to break it to her softly, before telling her "Yo, me and my mates be setting that flag on fire-"

"Good cause it looks fire on ME."

And.. She's not lying. So what's the problem?!?

Hobie doesn't have one. And it'll be a frigid day in hell before he tells Diane to change - for any reason, clothes or otherwise.

He asks her if she'd dead set on wearing it, and she's goes "What- do you think the skirt is too tight to dance in? I can. Don't worry, I checked."

If she's going to have a good time, that's all he cares about. And Hobie just smiles, telling her if that's the case then the outfit is bloody perfect.

Because somehow Diane finding the most perfectly coordinated outfit regardless of crowd, vibe, occasion, or time of day, seemed so entirely her.

Not faking it for him in ripped fishnets or studded clothes. Turning up in her perfect black stockings and the most painfully British outfit she could find.

And it wasn't until she pointed to him, that he understood why. "I wanted to match - you know, your pin." she says, pressing a manicured nail to his lapel. "It's my favorite one."

To him, the outfit is perfect. Funny as hell, but perfect.

"Brilliant taste you have." "Couldn't you tell from my taste in boys?"

The whole 'blending in' thing went out the window. But the outfit is a hit.

People couldn't help but notice the 6 foot girl who wore stilettos and a Union Jack to the function. A regular in the circuit, Hobie couldn't help but stay by her side - watching amused as she looked around the shitty backalley venue like it was a palace.

It was so different from the discos.

Diane couldn't help but marvel at how 'Hobie' the world seemed. "You're still the coolest thing here, though." She tells him over and over.

Hobie makes sure to keep an arm over her shoulder, not out of possessiveness, but the fact that Diane was liable to drifting off, eyes dazzled at how cool and punk and textured and rough everything seemed, how vibrant people were.

And Hobie loved it.

He wants her to love it, to enjoy herself. To smile and laugh and go on and on about how funky everything was. "But like - in a you way."

He wanted her to have a good time, but Hobie knew eventually, someone would say something.

And it came with a laugh.

"Christ, that's gotta be the funniest thing I've seen tonight." A guy wearing red liberty spikes said, and Hobie recognized him as Ned, a guitarist in some straight edge band.

And the girl at his side, Betty, grinned as she laughed along.

And Hobie wondered if he should scare them off, or give Diane a chance to bite their heads off first. Until Betty said-

"Fuck. I wish I'd thought of that."

"Huh?" Diane asked pointedly, seemingly more annoyed at the distribution of her Hobie-induced haze than anything else.

"Ain't that a giant 'fuck you' to the fascists - a black chick wearing their 'heritage' like it's the new spring collection - I'd pay to see the first skinhead that had a butchers at you," Betty said and she was a black girl herself, hair in neat boxbraids. "They'd be fucking fuming."

Diane side-eyed Hobie for a translation, and Hobie smirked, leaning in closer to her ear. "That's a good thing," he assured her, voice teeming with pride as he gave her shoulder a squeeze.

Because pissing off skinheads was very much a compliment.

Diane raised her eyebrows, because she surely couldn't tell. But, if Hobie said it, she was willing to take his word on it.

"Thank you..?" She chuckled, a hand on Hobie's arm. "Sorry, I ain't that good at speaking British. Hobie usually translates for me - Thank God he speaks American or I'd be so lost -"

"And she's American - that's fucking hilarious. No wonder she doesn't give a fuck." Ned said, grinning, pointing to her top.

And finally, Diane looked down - as if she'd just noticed what they meant.

"The flag?" She questioned, pouting her lips in confusion. "Am I supposed to give a fuck about the flag?"

"You aren't." Betty said. "That's what's so punk about it."

Her face lit up. Diane didn't speak British, but that she understood.

And she had to turn her face into Hobie's shoulder to not squeal. They said her perfect outfit was punk!

They said she was Punk!

Hobie stiffled his laughter, pulling Diane closer as he reached up to ruffle her perfectly curled hair.

Diane bit back her euphoria as she composed herself, flattered beyond belief. And to the pair in front of her, Diane said -

"Why, thank you!" mimicking a curtsey, head bowed and knees bent.

The pair burst out laughing.

And then, they did the same, playing along.

"Pleasure is ours, Your Majesty.~" Betty snickered, nudging Ned to get him to play along, and the dark-skinned boy did the same. "And to whom do we owe the honor?" he asked.

"Diane." Hobie said, squeezing her at the waist for a moment, and before she could tell them otherwise, Hobie said. "Call her Dutchess, yeah?"

Betty held back a snort. "Dutchess - She the Dutchess of Camden then?"

"Brilliant, you two." Ned said. "Leave it to Hobie to find a cheeky one."

Diane was glowing in his arms.

"The Duchess of Camden." Hobie said, a smirk coming to his lips. He adored the sound of it. "That she is. A national treasure, this one." And he believed it.

Hobie couldn't help but drink in the joy on Diane's face.

The name was so prestigious sounding - glamourous even - and Diane had no idea what the hell a Dutchess was, but she damn sure knew what royalty meant.

But nothing could compare to Hobie's words.

She pressed her hands to her cheeks, drinking in the flattery. And when she looked at Hobie her eyes were elated, dazzled to share the moment with him.

"Oh my, What a Prince Charming!" Diane laughed, wrapping her arms around Hobie. Who knew people in his universe would be just as cool, as interesting, as kind?

Who knew that not caring or thinking about British culture at all - not trying to make a statement, or say much of anything at all, could be punk? Hobie didn't.

Somehow, though, Diane managed to work miracles.

"Well, Dutchess," Ned said. "I take it you and Prince Charming here fancy a cordial invitation to the pub after this?"

Diane's jaw nearly dropped. "A Pub, like a Tavern?" And she couldn't imagine anything more British than a tavern. "Like the kind that serves pints? Just say the word and I'll call my horse-drawn carriage!"

Dutchess rode carriages, right? Who else would?

Betty shook her head, a grin on her lips. "Enjoy the show, Your Highness." she said, lacing her fingers with Ned's before weaving them back into the crowd.

For a second, Diane didn't say anything - cheeks glowing with the smile she was fighting back. Hobie wished he could make her feel that way forever.

"Well Punk royalty, how do you feel?" he asked, his voice low enough just for her to hear.

"You know," Diane said, turning to look at him, and slowly she laced her arms around his neck. "With this dimension time travel stuff - it's like you're the Punk Doctor Who, and I'm your companion, right? You know that British show, Doctor Who? The watch is like our Tardis-"

"Diane," Hobie said. "Never change."

__________________________

Hobie didn't know what this made him, but he didn't care.

He'd take Diane any place she'd follow. Any place she'd follow, he'd want her there.

Even here, on the curb of a street somewhere in London. Outside of a 24-hour Chip Shop at 3am.

Diane had followed him to 138 - and in return he'd followed her to a punk show. And then to an afterparty, and then to a pub, and then another.

And more and more people came over, to laugh and talk, to invite her into the community. And bit by her bit, her 'perfect' outfit had gained color.

A pin passed on from a friend, a patch someone would pull off their jacket, fishing for bobby pins to pin it to hers. A clover patch to match his pin, an A sprawled across the front like The Scarlet Letter.

Hobie couldn't describe the way Diane looked at him every time, the way she squeezed his hand and didn't let go. But that didn't matter. He just wanted her to do it more and more.

By stop two, she was complaining about her feet. But come 20 minutes, without fail - there she was, hanging on his sleeve. Asking him to leave so they could go someplace more her speed, 'hipper to the groove'.

And he'd always say 'Yes'. There wasn't a moment of it that he regretted.

He'd follow her anywhere, because he knew she'd do the same. And now, sitting on the curb on some random street in East London, Diane had the beginnings of her own battle jacket.

And a backpatch to match his, with her own addition:

'Punk's Not Dead.' 'He's back at my place.'

Hobie popped open the box of takeout, steam escaping as he lifted the flaps on the fish & chips. Beside him, Diane rolled her eyes in ecstasy at just the smell of it, throwing her head back in excitement.

Needless to say, Diane was plastered.

"You spoil me." she squealed leaning in closer to gaze at the sacred food that sat in Hobie's lap, her arm looped with his as the smell of fresh battered fish rose from the box.

Hobie lifted up a bit of fish, holding it out to Diane. "You ever tried this? Can't say you've been to London until you have. Like going to New York and leaving without the pizza." he smirked, eager to see her reaction - that look in her eyes.

Diane leaned forward, taking a bite of the fish without even taking it from his hand - too drunk to care.

"I don't know if it's because I'm drunk, or because I'm with you - but British food is so good." she snickered, stealing a chip from the box.

Carefully, she sniffed it.

"It has vinegar." he told her, watching as Diane nodded seriously, before pointing the chip at the box. "And that?" she asked.

"Mushy peas."

"Mushed peas?" Diane said, part bewildered, but mostly disgusted. "Mushed peas - is that what you said?"

Hobie snickered. "You ain't gotta eat them. I'll eat them if you don't want to-"

"You're gonna eat them?!" Diane demanded, jaw agape. "I was just complimenting you're national cuisine and now you're offering me pea sludge?" she laughed, almost in disbelief.

"You ain't gotta eat the pea sludge, Dutchess. Dump it in the harbor if you wanna kick off. That's what you all do, yeah?"

Now Diane's expression turned to shock. "Don't compare me to a Bostoner! As a New Yorker, I take offense to that." she said, stealing another chip. "You don't see me calling you a Birmingham-nite or whatever."

"Brummie -" Hobie corrected. "Surprised you know about them."

"I don't." Diane assured him. "I just know they exist."

Hobie grinned, taking a bite of fish, as for once - London seemed quiet around them.

No loud music. No crowd, or laughter, no anything. Just them. And Hobie realized that this was the first time they'd been alone - since that night they'd met, four months ago.

And he still felt the same as he did back then - in the alleyway behind the club, bathed in neon lights.

He had slipped into her world to find her - and now here she was, slipping in to his. And here, now, with her post-show hair, and smudged red lips, and blurred eye-liner. In her spray-painted jacket, and a hangover around the corner - he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Hobie -" Diane asked, eyes far away. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did." he snickered, simply because he knew it would get her attention. Diane grinned, even despite herself, and she shoved his shoulder.

But he could tell, whatever it was - she meant it. "Anything." he said.

"Why do you.. let me follow you around?" she asked, and even to her, the words felt clumsy, clouded by nerves and 4 pints of beer.

"I mean - Why do you put up with it?" she asked, voice barely at whisper. And for the first time, it was like she couldn't look at him. And yet he couldn't look away.

"With what everyone says. I mean - I know that you hear it. And..I'm not subtle about it. But you never complain. Or tell me to go away. I guess at a certain point, a part of me thought that maybe you just...didn't want to hurt my feelings, I guess."

Diane said, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

"But then, you invited me here. And you've been so kind to me all night. Even though I'm just some chick who shows up to your shows. And, I don't know how to thank you, or why you do it." she said, voice barely a whisper.

"Because I know that you care. Cause I can tell you do." Hobie said. "And I can tell you don't want nothing of me. You aren't asking me for romance or anything. We can just be together. Wherever. And that's enough. More than enough." Hobie said, and to him, the answer came easy. Now that it was her who was asking.

And maybe that was it. "We're enough for each other."

And she was more than enough for him. More than enough for him to watch to keep her around, and then some.

Diane's expression softened, the lump in her throat growing. "Thank you," she said. "For never making me feel like I was annoying. Or like I wasn't worth your time."

For making her feel like she was enough, always.

"You are worth my time, Daiquiri." Hobie said, and he reached up to brush a stray curl from Diane's face. "Don't want you to ever think otherwise. I don't know why you do it - what I did to deserve it.

But it doesn't matter. I ain't letting you get rid of me now."

Beside him, Diane grinned, hanging her head in bashfulness.

"I'd kiss your cheek right now, if I didn't smell of fish and vinegar right now." she told him, and instead, so instead she pressed a kiss to her fingers, before smooshing it in his face.

Hobie snorted, grabbing her arm and pulling her closer. Pressing kisses to her forehead, even as she faked a grimace. Because he didn't care about fish or vinegar or anything else. Just her.

Diane laughed, shoving away from him just as Hobie asked "And what about you?"

"What about me?" "Why do you do it?" he asked. "I mean, could have any bloke on any Earth. But you choose me."

And he would never understand it, but he would always be grateful.

For a moment, Diane had to think about it - and Hobie wondered if she ever questioned it herself. Or if she just did what made her happy, and worried about any bridge when she came to it.

Diane shrugged a bit, stealing another chip as she thought, eyes lidded and voice quiet under the haze of alcohol.

"I dunno. You make me feel safe, I guess." She said, and maybe it was that simple. Because saying it felt right.

"I don't have to worry - about you laughing at me, or judging me, slutshaming me. You don't think I'm stupid, or annoying. I mean, you let me wear this outfit, you made me feel good about it. So I trust you."

Because she could tell he cared too.

Hobie grinned, leaning forward to brush his nose against hers, their own form of kiss. "And that's enough for you to treat me as good as you do?"

"I mean, we met when I was shitfaced drunk." Diane said, well aware she was probably shitfaced right now. "In a club, basically throwing myself at you - and you somehow got me home and into bed." And she snickered at the memory alone. "You even put my bonnet on me."

"You were there the first time I saw the Sun. Or a sunset. I guess I feel like if you're there, it'll be okay. Or like, super far out - groovy, psychedelic, absolutely dynamite!"

She laughed. "Like tonight. Thanks for tonight, Hobie."

"Anything for you, Dutchess." he told her.

"Look at you, treating me like Queen Eliza." "Elizabeth." "Does it matter?"

Did it matter what they were?

"Not at all."

Because they were enough.

_-_-_-_-_-_

"Are you actually going to eat the pea sludge?" "What, is that a crime, your highness?" "No, but it should be."

_____________________________________________

Hobie will keep Diane ignorant about British culture, if it's the last thing he does. He finds it really, really funny.

And that's the story of how Diane got her punk jacket, why Hobie calls her 'Dutchess', and why they stick with each other through everything. UUHHHH N-E-WAY I think this might be like my first DiscoPunk fic holymotherof!!!!! I LOVE THEM. I LOVE THEM. I LOVE THEM I LOVE THEM. Let your OCs be loved. If you read this far thank you so much! It genuinely means a lot, so thank you for your time! In an act of gratitude here is Hobie

(thats them im gonna go cry)

[lestappenforever]

Hi. Someone just posted how they were watching Team Redline yesterday and people were spamming the comments section with “Lestappen” and mentioning Max’s lisps. I don’t know how to feel about all this because allegedly someone who was posting about Lestappen got blocked from the comment section after 20 minutes.

What scares me is that of course Max knows what Lestappen is now if he didn’t before, thanks to his team posting it. And of course, Redbull would never post something their golden boy hasn’t approved but that doesn’t give anyone else the right to ask Max about it. Max is not Charles tbh (not that Charles should be asked about it either) but Max is the kind of person who never talks about these kind of things. If he gets pissed, he’ll just stop streaming altogether or ask his team to shut it down (by it I mean Lestappen) because it’s getting out of hand. Charles faces issues head on (like that time he asked fans to stop camping outside his home because it was making him uncomfortable).

I would also like to point out it is not necessarily Lestappen girlies in the comments but rather people who have no boundaries whatsoever or people who want Lestappen girlies to look bad. I was once in a fandom that had no boundaries whatsoever and it ended badly and the ship can’t be mentioned without people wanting to pull out their hair. It’s just sad that Max has to deal with all the bullshit and that’s why he hates social media and being in the spotlight. Can we just enjoy what he and Charles offer us and in extension Redbull and F1 (sometimes even Ferrari) without making it weird? Thanks.

Hi anon!

I didn't watch the stream yesterday, but I can't say I'm surprised at what you're sharing. Now, I am absolutely certain that Max knows very well what Lestappen is, and has known for years. And even though I also believe that Max is also the type of person who doesn't let things like that really get to him, I am still of the opinion that it's a line you shouldn't cross.

Shipping is a thing that belongs in fandom. Sure, the social media teams of their teams see the appeal and know they can make a huge profit from using certain parts of shipping in their own channels, but that is something very different to people spamming comment sections with those types of things.

It should be (and for the most part, it is) common knowledge that you don't bring up those parts of fandom to the real-life people involved in those ships. The way I see it, there is absolutely no reason to try and shove those parts of fandom down the throats of the people involved, which is unfortunately exactly what is being done when you spam a stream, a comment section or anywhere else with shipping content, etc.

The majority of Lestappies are without a doubt reasonable, respectable people who would never even consider bringing those things to Max and Charles. But, as it sadly is with every fandom, there are going to be a minority of people who don't understand, care about or respect those boundaries. And then there are people who aren't even part of the fandom who just take some weird pleasure in being cringe and disrespectful towards drivers, and for some reason try to make it their life's mission to try and expose drivers to parts of fandom they shouldn't be exposed to. And as much as we wish it wasn't the case, those people are always going to exist. And they are always going to be loud about it.

Now, I personally don't think we need to worry about Max getting upset by any of this at all - he is notorious for not giving a shit, and I highly doubt Lestappen would be the thing to change that. I'd honestly be more worried about Charles being affected by it than Max, but I don't see it becoming a big deal for either of them. But that doesn't mean that people should try to shove Lestappen down their throats, either on social media or in real life. It's just a matter of common decency and being respectful towards other human beings, which unfortunately seems to be a bit too complicated a concept to grasp for a select few individuals.

Keep shipping and those parts of fandom away from the drivers, and enjoy it where it's meant to be enjoyed - such as in our delulu world of Tumblr. It's that simple. Nothing good is going to come from trying to force the two together.

[oceanspray5]

Troughts about Kai being jealousy

Thank you

Hello Anon! I am so so sorry for the late response! I've had a heck of an odd time this past month or so and I'm so sorry I didn't get to see your question in time. I hope this answers isn't too late.

I'll admit it's been a while since I've reread the Lunar Chronicles but I love Kaider and TLC still and am 100% in favor of Jealous!Kai. Heck that's something that's evident in canon! Kai gets so wrankled by the idea of Thorn escaping with Cinder and his immediate concern is that Thorn is good looking and charming and whether Cinder would find any appeal in that. Perhaps in not-so-many words but it's definitely something that bothers him about the situation and he has to pretend he's not jealous since he's already warring with the idea internally that Cinder betrayed him.

When it comes to post-books though, I don't think Kai would have any reason to be jealous. I feel he'd be incredibly secure in himself because of his upbringing and in his relationship with Cinder too after the events of the books. Perhaps there would be some moments of jealousy or insecurity when they're apart but I doubt it because I like to think Cinder would be relying on him and him on her while the world they help run goes through dramatic shifts. They wouldn't exactly have time to be entertaining any other suitors let alone worrying about the other doing so and that would give them a trust in each other despite the distance that, by the time they're finally on the same space rock again, they'd have no reason to be jealous. Or at least Kai wouldn't. I feel Cinder may still have her moments because of the unkind way she was brought up but she'd still come into her own confidence as well in a way it would bother her less than it did her character during the books.

Kai would perhaps get a little miffed if someone like a foreign prince or diplomat tried to flirt with Cinder in front of him though! However I doubt many would try given his and Cinder's relationship sort of helping to save the world and all. And Cinder would absolutely shut down anyone who tried too so I see the two of them more giggling over attempts at other people trying their luck with each other when they're already so comfortable and in love to even bother thinking of someone else.

These are my thoughts on how Kai's feelings would be, at least. Let me know what you think and thank you so much for sending the question in! 💖

[whoiwanttoday]

Sydney Sweeney is pretty much everywhere at the moment promoting Anyone But You, which I'll be honest, looks awful. Maybe it isn't but it sure does look bad. I don't think I am alone in this assessment and it feels like a throw back to a very uninteresting sort of Romcom of a different era that is full of awful rich people and why do we care? I guess that's true of Hollywood in general, a lot of movies and shows are about rich people now in a way that makes me uncomfortable. But these rich people are the types who think someone else's wedding is all about them from what I have seen of the trailers and if the movie isn't about what awful narcissists they are then why would I want to see it? Just because they're hot? I mean, I guess that is the answer. Either way, the fascinating little game I will play over the next year or so is, "Would this movie always have been promoted this hard?" Because this movie is certainly getting a lot of promotional power thrown at it and while Sydney Sweeney and Glen Powell are both potentially rising stars I think lots of people think they are really going all in on this and we're pretty sure it's because there is nothing else to promote. The strikes mean Hollywood is out of stuff to show us for a bit and they are going to have to restock. This movie rushed into reshoots as soon as work was reallowed and reshoots a month before a movie comes out are not a common thing. It's just that something has to come out in December and you have what you have. Maybe this movie always would have been hyped but I have my doubts. I absolutely think we are due for a reassessment by the studios on what makes money, I think the world is hungry for midbudget movies. Not even good ones, though those are always welcome, but there is a market for the Pope's Exorcist and Anyone But You, not because they are all time classics but movies that are cheap enough you don't have to worry about universal appeal or big spectacles. Variety I guess. So maybe this makes a lot of money cause the romcom is all but dead and people might really, really want one. And I get that. I would be fine with a world where Sydney Sweeney becomes a steady star of movies of that ilk, it gives her steady work and gives people something to watch other than giant attempts at cinematic universes (I hope. I mean, Nick Fury could show up in the post credits of this movie). Anyway, all that said, the press push has been good because Sydney Sweeney has looked nice so here she is. Today I want to fuck Sydney Sweeney.

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Top 5 kidnapping same person over and over so much that when they wake up first thing they say is "I'M BACK AT THE FUCKING BUILDING AGAIN?! Oh God..." 

And since you're more realistic, the reason why they keep getting kidnapped and not killed is that after the second time Rogue thought they were interesting so wanted to see where it would go. Now he has a crush.

The Riddler: The two of you had done this long enough to recognise that if there's green paint splattered around the place then it was the Riddler. "Why is it always you!?" You yelled out to the empty room. You knew the drill by now. You knew he could hear you. What you didn't know was the Riddler was thinking a rather similar question himself. "What is it about you?" He asked himself quietly. He couldn't put his finger on it. What made you so damn appealing. Yet he wanted more. He always wanted more. He was at a loss too, my dear. That's what he's trying to figure out. Both of you need to be patient.

Scarecrow: No, no, no, no this can't be happening! Not here, not again. Although there was no denying the situation when the man with the burlap sack over his head entertained. "Stay back!" You shrieked. The Scarecrow revealed his empty hands. "I haven't harmed you." He said smoothly. I have no intention to hurt you." "Why me!?" You pleaded. He tugged the bag off of his head, revealing his face as he crouched in front of the chair you were tied to. "I don't know." He said softly. "I have my theories but...nothing concrete." He cracked a faint smile. "That would be lovely, wouldn't it? If the answer was just so easy to find."

Two-Face: "Hi gorgeous." You heard him as he stepped out of the shadows. "You keeo bringing me back here! What did i ever do to you!?" You yelled out in pure frustration. "We aren't gonna hurt ya." Harv' said. "We never do. You're special, sweetheart." Harvey took over. "Nothing bad is going to happen to you." He assured you sincerely. "Why do you keep bringing me here?" You pleaded. "Because I worry." Harvey replied smoothly. "This is Gotham and when I catch the rumours that somethings going down, I'm not going to sit and hope you aren't impacted. I'm going to make sure you're out of the way."

Black Mask: "Nice to see you again." He smiled lightly. You tugged and struggled against your bindings. "Don't..." He shook his head. "...don't do that. You're not going anywhere, you'll only hurt yourself." "Why do you keep bringing me here!?" You sobbed. "Hey, don't cry. I'm nicer to you than I've ever been to anyone. I'm not gonna hurt you. You mean too much." He explained. "What are you talking about?" You asked weakly. He stroked your cheek with his thumb. "Not yet. There's time for that...but not yet."

Mad Hatter: "It's okay, Alice." Jervis cooed. "You're safe now." "Jervis please!" You cried. "No tears! You have nothing to fear!" He crouched to your level, hands on your knees with a wide grin. "Oh Alice! You always run off! You're trickier to protect than I thought! Not to worry. No matter what be, I'll make sure you always stay with me!" He put a hand to his chest, just above his heart. "It beats for you, you know." He said quietly when your eyes flickered to his chest. He looked at you like you were an angel, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. You had no doubt about his feelings. Instead, you doubted that it would be enough to keep you safe and alive.

[greatwyrmgold]

Last year, a childhood friend of mine ran for mayor. Tonight, she gave a presentation about the experience and how to get politically involved and stuff. But I'm not here to talk about her actual thesis. I'm here to talk about some details she mentioned in passing.

I knew there was some kind of drama between her campaign and the Democrats in our state, but I didn't know the details. My friend didn't talk much about that, but she mentioned some disparaging remarks various people had said to her over her campaign, and it sounded like some of them came from institution Democrats.

One point she mentioned was that basically nobody expected her to win. She was running against someone I'll call the Incumbent; he wasn't actually in office last year, but that's just because he took a term off after sixteen years in office. He's a Republican, but a pretty mild one; conservative, but not violently reactionary. The Incumbent was expected to win with over 90% of the vote if anyone ran to oppose him.

When my friend made her candidacy official, she started getting advice from institution Democrats. (I'm not sure exactly who, because my friend was trying to explain the challenges she faced without saying anything mean about the Democratic Party, but I don't know who else would say this kind of stuff.) They told her to stop making a big deal about LGBTQIA+ rights, abortion rights, etc etc.

The things they told her to stop focusing on weren't my friend's entire campaign (she didn't mention pushback about her "affordable housing" rhetoric), but they were some of the pillars, the things that made me and other people want her to win. It almost sounded like they were asking her to be a different version of the Incumbent—a few different policies, a blue tie instead of a red one, but basically the same moderate policy proposals.

My friend ignored them, doubling down on all the "controversial" topics that she cared about. She's far from the only person who cared; she got 42% of the votes, not the <10% expected. I have no doubt that she got that many votes because she was willing to make a stink about those controversial issues, because she was willing to be more than "Incumbent, but blue".

...

My friend is a big fan of Obama. Say what you will about the man, but he promised Change You Can Believe In. Obama ran with a similar strategy to my friend's—he made big promises about things people cared about. Some people hated it, but most of them wouldn't vote Democrat. By contrast, many moderates and the disaffected liberals found his promises compelling and turned out to vote for Obama.

Candidates who promise change earn votes. But the Democrats keep supporting candidates like Hillary Clinton and Joe Biden, saying it's to secure the moderate vote. They take it as a given that they don't need to appeal to left-liberal voters, because who else are they gonna vote for?

(And maybe, just maybe, the institution Democrats don't actually want the change their candidates promise.)

I don't think that's unique to the USA's Democratic party. I've seen liberal politicians across the Pond compromise on progressive issues, only to be defended by their constituents. They have to make those compromises, you see, or they won't get elected! Making a big deal about serious political issues will alienate moderate voters, after all, and they're the only ones we should worry about. Who else are progressives and leftists and queers gonna vote for?

Their strategy relies on a combination of overwhelming threat from conservative politicians and "vote blue no matter who" rhetoric. (Or "vote red if they're not dead," in countries where the liberal party is red. The US has to do everything its own way...) As long as they can safely assume the left wing of their population will vote for them out of desperation, they can shift as far to the right as they want. It's better than the nascent fascists in the other party, after all!

I don't have a solution. I understand the short-term strategic strategy of voting blue for damage control, but in the long term that just enables them to slip farther to the right.

[sable-skies]

QUICK -while that Anon is incapacitated from being hit with TWO Voltron mentions- TALK EVEN MORE ABOUT VOLTRON!

Your biggest issues with the show! Wasted potential! And of course the biggest piece of Drama; SHIPS?!?!??

We will never get proper closure. We all share Voltron trauma ✌️😔

the people yearn for a five hour video essay talking about why voltron sucks. (I've literally wanted to make one for Years about it but alas, life happens)

i cant do that yet because of my schedule, but I will give you a snippet on some of my thoughts

Forgive me, for I am about to yap like I'm a fucking professor in the subject, got my master's years ago and all it did was give me fandom trauma (/lh, but there's a reason why I don't join fandom discords anymore or anything like that!) so strap in my brother (gender neutral)

I WILL ADDRESS THIS FIRST: Ships. I actually never shipped anything in VLD! No offense to Klance, but I never really got the appeal? And obviously there's that Other Super Popular one that I'm not gonna name because it's fans are gonna kill me, but I didn't like that one either.

For Klance; I think I never got it because I just. never considered them love interests? Like I would see people losing their minds over it and my (at the time, unknown) aroace ass would just slow blink at them like "yeah man i guess. what?". Could it have been good? Maybe, but it was never the horse I backed personally. I will say, some of the content that came from that ship was absolutely phenomenal though, never doubt what yaoi-obsessed teenagers can do.

I won't say much more on the fandom tbh, but trust me I saw some shit. This blog wasn't around back then but I witnessed some things. Remember the socks? I do.

Moving onto the actual show itself, I actually rewatched at least the first season (and half of the second) because a few friends and I were talking about it again and I wanted to try and get some notes for that video essay I'm totally going to do, and I realized that from the get-go the show was absolutely fucked worldbuilding wise.

I'm a big worldbuilding nerd, I never share my various insane projects but I literally make a new google document every week with ideas for various stories I would love to tell. Worldbuilding is such an essential part to telling a good story and having a believable world, and upon rewatching at least season 1, there's some loose foundation set but then completely butchered by season 3.

I will be honest, people always say that season 4 was the worst, and I will agree it did suck, but in my opinion season 3 was the worst for me. I absolutely hated that they started to switch lions, which I understand is a reference to the original 80s show, but it completely disregarded one of the lines in the FIRST EPISODE about how a bond between a lion and it's pilot is scared, cannot be forced, and is a rare thing. only for that to get thrown out the window. AUGH.

I'm a firm black paladin allura believer personally, I think that would have been so much fun seeing her step into the leadership role she pretty much had from the start alongside Shiro! (Never shipped them for anyone worried, they're just really good friends)

Speaking of friends; I don't think the show really established the team's overall bond well enough. Looking back, there's nothing in the show that promises found family friendships and all that, but the showrunners said that would be the case, and I think they were the biggest reason the show failed. (more on that later)

Sin Squad once said in one of their videos that everyone on the team felt more like co-workers and honestly? I still agree on that sentiment. I can believe that Pidge and Hunk are friends, I can believe that Keith and Shiro have a familial bond, I can believe that Hunk and Lance are friends. But Keith and Pidge? Hunk and Shiro? Hunk and Allura? There are so many potential really good friendships that are completely ignored in favor of other established bonds, and I think it makes the whole "we gotta work as a team!" message a lot weaker because of it. They're all co-workers at best, "strangers forced to be friends under the worst circumstances" at worst (shout out to keith for that line, he was actually spitting)

Additionally, and this is just because I'm still a big Keith head at heart (when I was 15 I wanted to go by that name because I was so attached to him. its funny looking back), I really dislike how they treated his character? In season 1 he didn't get much development, but we got the hints of him being half-galra, and I loved that! Season 2 really built on him and S2 E8 "Blades of Mamora" is still my favorite episode. I love that one with my whole fucking heart. Oh my god.

But then season 3 hit, forced him into a leader positions I don't think he ever grew into, and then his. mom. came back. Don't get me wrong, I love Krolia (big fan of women), but all of Keith's angst being cured by spending a few space whale years with his mom continues to completely disregard the bonds he made with his team. And Keith isn't the only one who suffers from this, everyone does.

I understand family is an important bond (despite the fact that I keep many of my personal family members at arms length, for reasons) but every character only got a "complete" arc or ending when they were reunited with their blood family, not the "found family" that the showrunners promised. Pidge's only arc was finding her family, sure there was the stuff about nature and coding being similar but that was for a single episode. Hunk only got development again post season 1 when it was about his family being enslaved. Lance only ever wanted to see his family again, and then he never got an arc past that except for his dead space girlfriend. Shiro never even got an explanation for his family past his totally-boyfriend Adam.

SPEAKING OF ADAM

I will say that I disagree with the fandom's opinion that the entire show queerbaited with Klance. I think you had to have Klance-sized glasses on to see that. The show truly did queerbait with Adam though, with promoting and hyping him up for season 7, only for him to barely get a minute of screen time. Actually such a waste of time, and such a waste of an interesting character. Voltron writers and showrunners when i GET YOU.

A final note I'll make because I'll never stop writing otherwise: there was some discussion about whether or not the show's failure was the writers, showrunners, or executives fault. I personally think it was the showrunners who were at fault here. She-Ra came out the same year VLD ended, and it soared in terms of worldbuilding, storytelling, and queer representation.

For She-Ra to come out around 2018, I imagine these shows started development around the same time (Did you ever realize VLD only had a 2 year run time? 75 episodes in 2 years? I did and it made me upset.) They were probably working with same executives, under the same people, same deadlines, etc. She-Ra succeeded (i think), and VLD fell apart and crashed at the end. Hell, in the final year it was airing they were STILL in the storyboard process. I think the showrunner's either majorly mishandled the production of this show, or they were given shit terms and didn't do anything to make something of it. Either way, Lauren Montgomery and Joaqium Dos Santos I will remember your names forever because of it

(On a serious note, I don't actually dislike or hate them. I'm just disappointed in what happened is all)

Anyways that barely like. scratches the surface of many more issues I have with the show, but those are some of the major problems I saw in it!

And for some more positive notes: I love the ost of the episode where Allura's AI-father dies, it still sticks with me even now. (i ugly sobbed at that episode I'm sensitive to parental death), and Keith is still my beloved meow meow, I love him so much I miss him. Steven Yuen the GOAT. I also loved the concept of these bio-mechanical lions, they could've gone a bit more cosmic horror eldritch with them, but it's still good regardless.

shoutout btw to my friends who sat in call with me as I typed this like a madman.

[racfoam]

i was thinking whether mclaggen likes Harriet in the 6th year since hermione already has a soulmate and harry doesn't . If he does can you give a small snippet .I had this doubt since mclaggen is an idiot and since Harriet is beautiful he might have a crush on her anyway I hope your toothache id gone and yeà it hurts so bad

Oh, yes, McLaggen will be in 6th Year. Harry in 6th Year is beautiful, everyone has a crush on her, Voldemort is becoming very very very very murderous and possessive, and yeah, McLaggen is so stupid he fears no evil, the idiot.

Harry actually accepts McLaggen’s invitation to the Christmas at the Slug Club because screw it, right, she needs to go with someone. Don’t worry, Harry won’t be dating anyone, least of all (gags) McLaggen.

Yeah, toothache sucks, but I just got out of the dentist and I'm feeling better, thank you for worrying. ❤️

Regarding the snippet, I don't have much written for McLaggen (yet) and I have to remind myself how he was in the books, but have this!

Ginny came flying over to Harry.

“Harry,” whispered Ginny, frowning at McLaggen. “McLaggen's making eyes at you. Again.”

Harry looked at McLaggen. Indeed, he was making eyes at Harry, a sultry sort-of-look. Any charm he held with his curly hair, appealing features and athletic frame vanished in that moment.

Harry looked away, disgusted.

Harry, despite everything, wasn’t blind. Harry noticed a change this year. A lot of eyes (mostly boys from the same year and seventh years) lingering on her. Many of them stared at Harry like she hung the stars, staring at her like she was a Veela. Some were sweet, polite. Some more confident, like McLaggen, made their interest obvious.

Katie flew back, joining Harry and Ginny in the space in the air. She leaned over to Harry, and whispered. “Want me to sock a Bludger at him?”

“No,” said Harry. “Let’s see how he fares against Ginny and the rest of the Chasers first.”

“I'm going to wipe that disgusting leer off his face,” growled Ginny, and bolted forward on her Comet to take the Quaffle for the penalty at McLaggen.

Hope you liked the snippet!

[limesandcoconuts]

Can I just say, i literally owe John Powell my life. If it weren't for him and his music, i would be half the pianist I was.

To catch people up, I started piano 5 ½ years ago and had a teacher that I visited once a week. But then after 2 years, COVID hit and it closed down (that and the other kids were little shĩts). Since then, I have not had a teacher and had to learn everything myself.

Where does John Powell come in? Well, I write down every song i learn so I don't lose track and when I tell you that 85% of it is from the HTTYD soundtrack, i do not lie. So thanks to John Powell i was essentially able to teach myself classical music without actually having to play classical music. Without a teacher, out of my own free will i would have never willingly learnt Mozart or Bach. But because of how amazing John's soundtrack for HTTYD is, i wanted to learn every song, not realizing i was learning classical music and without a teacher my piano skills jumped up by 900% all because I was obsessed with animation movie's score. Because as my mum puts it: "if you can play classical, you can play anything."

I'm not a piano master but I can safely say if it weren't for John Powell i wouldn't be anywhere near to the level of skill i have now especially for someone who had to do it alone. And trust me, I hate tooting my own horn, but in 3 years I went from struggling to play songs like Faded by Alan Walker to being able to play difficult jazz songs like Summertime by Gershwin with ease. And i have no doubt who is responsible.

So this is a sign to anyone who is trying to teach themselves piano and wants to better their skill - film music is the best way to do it because its classical music in disguise of more appealing songs for modern audiences.

Anyways, that's all. Enjoy your day.

Edit: and i say i owe him my life because well music is my life (i didn't sell my soul or anything don't worry)

[female-buckets]

How is it trashing Megan to point out that her early journey in the W was rough? That’s how it goes with bigs, unfortunately. They’re often undersized. And yes she played more when BG was out this year but Phoenix was very bad, and it’s been years since her college hype

Anyone who’s a basketball nerd loves Caitlin because not only is she elite at the game, she also has an elite basketball mind, so the way she talks and sees the fame is very appealing to basketball nerds. So if that’s your strategy, she’s great for that too. Especially since she’ll be in Indiana which is such a basketball state. It’s not like she’s this sparkling personality, people very much like her for her play on the court

I also think Caitlin and the new stars have an advantage over players like CP and DT because the league is growing at the same time they are. The W’s gotten more popularity every year, especially this year with the best teams in big markets, so the fanbase is already growing - and the obsessive Paige/Caitlin/Angel/etc fans can grow with it

I’m not super worried about them having smaller roles on their W teams, because as long as they’re playing, people will be excited. Every Lynx player was a god in Minnesota even if they weren’t all the star. New York fans love Han and Marine and they barely play. Even DT herself said a player like Caitlin is gonna be her team’s point guard playing 40 minutes a game. And in terms of not winning, well, this is where it helps to not be a blue blood. The underdog teams are more familiar with losing, lol

The Iowa fanbase has two pro-level players. But they do not follow Meg's games. Every WNBA player your school produces should get eternal princess treatment. That's the rule. Hawkeye fans should have a whole Meg monologue prepared for whenever anyone says anything slightly critical of her. That's the bare minimum that other schools' fanbases do for their pros. A hoop nerd can make any role player sound like god's gift to basketball. If Iowa fans are real hoop nerds, they should start there.

I'm not doubting that Caitlin will be a WNBA star. I'm just letting you know that 2024 will be the most famous year of her life. The growth of the WNBA parallels WCBB growth. It's two parallel lines like this:

📈

📈

And the WCBB line is above the WNBA line. The WNBA line will never cross or catch up to the WCBB line. Not unless there's a massive shift in American culture.

The big sports media will cover Caitlin's rookie year. They'll have her at the 2024 ESPYs. And then at the end of 2024, the big media train will end. And the train will go back to the station and pick up the next college star and start again. For Caitlin, everything after 2024 is up to her and her agent. If she wants to maintain college fame, only one player has ever done that. BG.

Do you know how famous BG was in high school and college? In high school, she was the first viral amateur basketball star. The video she uploaded of high school dunking highlights was the first amateur basketball video to get 1 million views. And that was only the beginning. She kept growing. Every single thing she did and said between 2008 and 2015 made headlines. She was famous in high school and college. And she stayed exactly as famous through her first three WNBA seasons. Then she grew up a bit and settled down. And then Putin forced her back into the spotlight in 2022. That had to do with a lot of stuff outside her control. But the 2008-2015 fame was in her control.

BG is proof that it is possible to keep America's attention after your rookie WNBA season. Young BG did something no one in women's basketball had tried before. She grabbed American culture by the horns and started wrestling the whole beast. I don't think Caitlin is planning on doing that. But maybe she'll surprise me.

[queenharumiura]

🎂+ "Did you even notice me or am I just a replacement for Juudaime?" ((you already know who this is from))

Today is the day I celebrate Haru because of her shorthand (86) and I'll answer any questions. [x] ||Time's up! No longer accepting!|| I do know this is to take place in the future, so I'm taking some creative liberties as I don't exactly know how things lead up to them being a thing, so bear with me.

“Huh. Fuck.” What was the saying, tongue in cheek? It would be better for her to keep her silence and storm off in a fit of anger, but she was told to be honest and to not hold back, hm? She looks down at the piece of paper giving her directions for the day. All she knew was that she was going to have a strong word with a certain mun later for this horrendous idea of hers. When can a Haru ever have peace? “So this is how we’re ending things tonight with the questions? Okay.”

She honestly thought that she was safe and free, and yet everything snowballed at night, and look at this now. She’s ending things off with a bang, hm?

“You know, I expected something more out of you than this, Gokudera.” A derisive snort, “You waited until now to ask because I have to be honest and you didn’t trust me otherwise, is that it?” A relationship had to be built on top of trust, and she was being made to feel that he didn’t trust her. That deep down he felt that she still had a flame for Tsuna.

He didn’t believe that she loved him, and for someone who wore her heart on her sleeve, he’d effectively taken her love and slapped her in the face with it, thinking that he was just a replacement. This entire situation left a bad taste in her mouth both figuratively and literally. She could taste the blood from her biting so hard on her lower lip in anger.

Her line of vision kept shifting on different spots on the ceiling as she was trying to calm herself to not just launch into a slew of explicatives. Deep breath in and deep breath out, keep the tears at bay. Staring at the ceiling in an attempt to keep her composure for long enough to not break down into tears as she’s forced to address this.

There were a few things to note about Haru and her speech patterns. When she stopped referring to herself in third person, she was being very serious, and the moment she ever utters a curse word, you know you messed up, royally.

“I sure am curious though. Is this something you came up with yourself, or is it because you hear things other say about me and now you doubt me?” Don’t worry, regardless of the answer she’s still mad at you. You still went and fucked up. Mun-san really had a lot to make up for, that’s for sure.

She takes a deep breath in, holds it for a few seconds before she exhales, trying to release a lot of her frustrations with it. She managed to center herself with that one. “When I gave upon Tsuna-san all that time ago after exhausting everything I could try, that was the end of things. I had a clean break with my feelings. I did all that I could to have him see my way, but it didn’t work. I did try to hide it and I don’t know how well I did at that, but I was a mess sometimes because of it all.” She hated the fact that she was being made to admit to anything and everything.

“Did you think I didn’t know who he was pining for? Sure, I’m a stupid woman as you say, but I won’t have anyone come here and tell me that I was in the wrong for trying. The stupidest thing you can do is NOT try and lament that it never happened. I did my best to appeal to Tsuna-san. I did everything I could to try something… ANYTHING, but nothing came of it. What came out of it? Me understanding that it wasn’t going to work out. After that, all I needed to do was sever my feelings and move on.”

She says it as if it was an easy thing to do, but it wasn’t. She needed time to come to terms with the futile efforts and to understand that this was going to be viewed as a waste of time to everyone else.

“I don’t regret all that I did then, as I learned a lot from him. I developed some skill sets that I’m proud of to this day. Everyone else may think that my time spent pinning for him was a waste of time, but I see it as my journey of going through my first love and seeing it to the end. Some people can get stuck and get hung up on it forever, but I’m not like that. When I stopped loving him, that was the end of it. It was time for the next stage of my life, whatever that was.”

If she had to regret anything, it was the amount of emotional baggage that followed her after the fallout of her feelings for Tsuna. “I know that others pitied me for my futile efforts… and I know I probably looked stupid to a lot of them (if not all of them). I pretended to not see it, even if it was coming from those I cared about.” It was one thing to be pitied by random people, but to be pitied by your friends and family? It was the absolute worst. They were seeing her at her lowest, but she kept a smile on her face, pretending to not see it. Haru thought that it would hurt more if she let them know that she saw the looks.

It would be worse to acknowledge it and have them be more discreet about it.

“Ahh… fuck” she ruffles her fingers through her bangs, “there was a time where I really thought I’d be okay with being a shadow woman if only it meant he’d notice me when he thought to look down.” A scoff. “It’s stupid, how low I was at that time. Just how badly I was willing to degrade myself to relegating myself to being a shadow.” She really hated that part of her. It disgusted her every time she recalls that.

She shouldn’t have ever thought that way or spoken that way, even if at one point it may have been a joke. That’s the thing with jokes, they can feel real once you say them enough. She’s irritated on all accounts now as she’s reeling over the real question at hand and the memories relating to the question. “Do you just want me to stay hung up on the past? You just won’t let me get past it to heal and feel better about myself, will you?” She’s biting back with her own words. “Does it make you feel better to kick me down when I’ve already done that enough? Was my self-confidence and self-love tanking not enough? You have to kick me down too? Is there a point to this? Is it a game to see who can break me worse?”

What was that about holding back tears? Well, she tried.

“You know, I always wanted to have an average life by getting married to someone who loved me and start a family one day—but I can’t have that. By some twist of fate, I am affiliated with the mafia. I can’t just love a civilian and expect them to follow me into the Mafia. That then involves their family too by extension. I don’t have other options available to me. I lied to myself telling myself that it’d be okay if I was alone moving forwards. It’s too late for me to go back to being a regular civilian. I gave up on one of my dreams to stay with you all.”

That is to say that she treasured the bonds she made with everyone more than her dream of having a happily married life with some normal guy. She would’ve been plenty happy with that. Not to be a narcissist, but she would make a great wife! She’s wasting her potential here, you know?

Damn it, she couldn’t stop the tears from flooding down her face NO THANKS TO SOMEONE. She stopped as she was hectically rubbing at her cheeks, trying to wipe away the tears. Well, the show must go on, right? You wanted the full truth, after all. She won’t have anyone accusing her of wasting time by stalling.

“I already had the reputation of being the silly woman who pined after Tsuna-san for so long. That moniker will never leave me for as long as I live, I’m sure. People are going to talk and make whatever they will about my interpersonal relationships with others. They’re going to suspect that I still hold a torch for Tsuna-san, or that I’m secretly hoping for Kyoko-chan to reject him or what have you.” It was so tough on her to think that’s how people may perceive her character.

She spent the majority of her life being a regular civilian girl. She wasn’t some conniving person who lusted after power. She wasn’t someone who was willing to do any underhanded means to get what she wanted either. She was just an innocent girl who wholeheartedly loved the wrong person.

“I didn’t want to fall for anyone else associated with the Vongola. I knew that people would talk, assume that I was using them as a replacement. I didn’t want to be the reason for any of you to be looked down on. I… I’m not worth your reputations being sullied because of me.” Haru walks over to a chair and brings her knees to her chest, hiding her crying face in her knees. “I trusted that you’d believe me.” We see where that got her.

“I was fine with anyone viewing me as the worst if only my lover trusted me. That alone would be worth it. Maybe I could prove myself in the eyes of others if they saw just how much I loved you but I can’t even convince YOU that you’re the only one that I have in my heart?”

What was the point then? What is a relationship without trust at a bare minimum?

This is incredibly heartbreaking.

“You deserve someone who makes you feel confident in the fact you’re the only one for them, and I deserve someone who doesn’t doubt me even when I gave them everything that I had to offer. If with all the love I had to give you, you still had an ounce of doubt in me, I can’t stay here. I don’t deserve this.” She may have trampled her self-worth when she was pining over Tsuna, but she made a promise to herself to not do that again.

“If you truly think that you’re just a replacement for me, consider today the last time you can call me your girlfriend. I’m NOT tolerating this bullshit. Not from you.”

It’s past midnight and that’s the last of the questions she was accepting for the night, so she storms out the questioning room to cry for the rest of the night.

[saltminerising]

https://at.tumblr.com/saltminerising/httpsattumblrcomsaltminerisingare-those-real/iwaqorm5iszi

Anon here is literally right and the replies are just ignoring that in favor of "calling them out" or nitpicking or whatever you wanna call it. That's all pretty much exactly what anon said the replies would do, too.

Anon knows exactly what they're talking about lmao and people are like "NO! Actually YOU'RE being aggressive because [insert x nitpicked words that anon already said they weren't personally responsible for your interpretation of, and they weren't gonna exhaust themselves carefully choosing every single one of those words for the benefit of people who were gonna incorrectly assume their tone anyway]".

I mean sorry to the people in the replies, but you proved other anon right. You incorrectly assumed their tone (and intentionally ignored their outright stated tone indication at the end) based off a few incidental words that, yeah, I'll give you that they have some rude implications, but honestly so can literally everything else. It's subjective and affected by your real life region and environment. And assuming anon is neurodivergent (and I am too for the record), they aren't gonna know Every. Single. Fucking. Way. that tone can be assumed for each and every word. I feel like if you know someone is ND based off their ask, then maybe cut them some slack????? Or here's a fun idea, let's not assign tone or intent to other people through text online based off our own subjective feelings about the words, which was the whole point of the original ask.

And just so you know, no, I'm not being angry or intentionally rude, nor am I directing any anger at the people in the replies (the replies are just an example of the problem, I'm not mad at you and I don't have a personal beef with you). Actually, I'm being very frustrated and a bit bitterly sarcastic because this is a very old and very traumatic song and dance for me as a ND person. I'm exhausted of going through the steps and being forced to be responsible for other peoples feelings like other anon has been forced to. It makes me especially frustrated to see other anon being 100% right about it but getting completely ignored in the replies because they didn't revise their ask 20 times to appeal to the goddamn tone police (which was, again, one of their original criticisms and something that they seemed to know was gonna happen no matter what they did).

In conclusion... idk. Let's just be kinder to each other, I guess? By not assuming everyone has a angry or rude meaning or intent hidden under their expressly stated intent? It doesn't hurt to give people the benefit of the doubt. I just..I'm tired lol. People can't perfectly anticipate or be expected to 100% control the way they'll come across to others and it's not anyone's job to overthink and triple-triple-triple check their words before saying them on the chance someone will be offended. (Emphasis on overthink, obviously I'm not talking about just giving messages a once over revision, which everyone should do anyway. I'm talking about being forced to worry about every single possible reaction and guard against them all.)

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