#i think there’s a Lot off about this one but it’s definitely better than last year’s pride piece so i won’t nitpick it too much

[sendpseuds]

Wip Wednesday - Spirit Halloween

The Halloween decorations are going up and I don’t remember the last time I had something for wip Wednesday so you’re getting a long one

Enjoy 🖤

The clock on the wall sounds like a heartbeat.

The second hand pulls back and lurches forward, steady and measured and maddening.

One-two. One-two. One-two.

It's loud and irritating, but honestly, anything is better than listening to The Monster Mash for the millionth time tonight.

No one has set foot in this temporarily occupied warehouse in over an hour and Anakin is beyond ready to get the fuck out of here.

The closing checklist is almost complete— the changing rooms have been cleared of unwanted costumes, each cheap plastic garment put back in its package and out on display, the register has been counted, the floors have been swiffered, the door has been locked. All he has to do is shut down the animatronics, turn off the lights and—

"Jesus-fucking-Christ," Anakin barks when a knock at the door nearly startles him out of his skin, clutching his chest to feel the frantic onetwo onetwo onetwo of his own heart fast outpacing the clock's suddenly sluggish tempo.

It takes a moment to catch his breath, his pulse still thundering in his ears when he looks up to find a man wearing a dark suit and an apologetic expression.

Normally, Anakin would just ignore the guy — maybe shout, 'We're closed,' and point at his watchless wrist before rolling his eyes and returning to his end-of-night checklist — but when the man raises his hand to give an almost adorably embarrassed wave, Anakin finds himself unlocking the door before he can think twice.

"I'm terribly sorry," the stranger says before the door is even open, rushed and painfully polite, "I didn't mean to frighten you."

He sounds like he stepped out of some critically acclaimed period drama about dukes and duchesses, and while he's not wearing coattails or a top hat he definitely looks like he could be a lord or something.

"It's fine," Anakin chuckles, a strange nervous tickle in the back of his throat as he breathes in the cold night air, shifting his weight slightly and trying to remember why exactly he opened the door in the first place, "Look, man, I'm really sorry, but we're—"

"You're closed," the man says before he can finish, nodding his head in acknowledgment, standing up a straighter like he thinks he can match Anakin's height, "I realize that and I apologize, but I was hoping that you could—"

"Sorry, dude," Anakin interrupts, shaking his head and finding himself strangely reluctant when the man frowns, "Already shut down the registers, couldn't sell you anything even if I wanted to."

His eyes drop in disappointment, lips in a thin line, but when his brows raise, head tilted to one side, Anakin lets out a low sigh, realizing this man isn't ready to give up.

"Cash?"

And if that doesn't pique Anakin's interest.

"I have—" the man murmurs absently, pulling out a sleek leather wallet to leaf through the contents and Anakin can't help the way he perks up when he sees at least one, two, three bills with three digits in the corner, "Four— no, five hundred and one dollars."

Anakin needs to swallow a laugh because who the fuck carries around that much cash?

"Anything not spent on the costume is yours."

Then, he nearly chokes.

That's— that's—

Honestly, that's not even a month's rent, but to Anakin Skywalker, five hundred dollars is a lot of money.

It's a trip home to visit mom.

It's a nice birthday gift for Ahsoka.

It's breathing room.

It's one hell of a negotiation tactic.

"That desperate, huh?" Anakin manages to ask, his mind already running through exactly what he needs to do to not get caught.

"You have no idea," the stranger hums, leaning forward just enough that Anakin can see the way his smile wrinkles his eyes at the edges, "You're my only hope."

Anakin shivers.

"Five hundred dollars?" He confirms, swallowing back the wild feeling still racing down his spine.

"Five hundred and one," the man grins, and for the first time, Anakin realizes his eyes shine like silver.

"Alright," he breathes, something strange studdering his heart as he holds the door open, "Come on in."

[unknownarmageddon]

you know what, fuck you *t4ts your kross*

killer belongs to rahafwabas cross belongs to jael peñaloza

[thepersonperson]

Backstory theory for Sukuna? I wanted to say Kenjaku and Tengen too but let's just stick with Sukuna for the sake of your sanity

(Written as of JJK 262 using TCB scans and raws. Click images for captions/citations. I want to see how poorly or well this ages.)

I already kind of went into how I think Sukuna’s birth occured answering this ask, and we know for a fact he was born as an unwanted little wretch. But that's not really a full backstory. I was a conjoined twin truther before the reveal so I'm definitely deranged confident enough to propose something.

What is Sukuna's deal anyways?

When I say Sukuna and Gojo are twin flames, I'm referring to how their internal logic and their narrative framing are very similar. For this reason, I believe how they respond to trauma is also similar.

Much of early JJK is a different reread knowing Gojo's specific trauma. His use of the childish Boku as his personal pronoun, his obsession with sweets, having Infinity on all the time, his avoidant attachment style, and his fierce desire to ensure teens enjoy their youth...all these little trauma-induced quirks hidden in plain sight, sometimes as humor, are now depressing reminders of what Gojo went through. You also start to see how paranoid he is about another Toji incident with how he treats Miguel and Hanami...

Sukuna's backstory has probably been set up in the exact same way. It's likely that most of Sukuna's actions and attitude are influenced by some unrevealed/hinted at trauma. Since he and Gojo are twin flames, I'll try to piece it together using Gojo as the blueprint.

Sukuna's Way of Speaking

In the same way Gojo's manner of speaking is unusual for his age, Sukuna speaks really weird even compared to other incarnated sorcerers. If you're not aware, Japanese pronouns do not carry gender, but they do indicate how the speaker views themself and the person they're talking to. (This wiki summary table is quite helpful for this sort of thing.)

Sukuna's personal pronoun is 俺 (Ore) which is very informal, rough, and masculine. And he uses お前 (Omae) as the you pronoun for others which is either a casual thing amongst peers or indicates the speaker's higher status. (It's probably the later given how arrogant Sukuna is.) These are also the same pronouns Yuji uses for himself and others. But because of his personality, we can infer that Yuji uses Ore because he's a sporty boy from the countryside and Omae because he's friendly and views everyone as equals. Same pronouns, but completely different characterizations that get lost in translation.

Sukuna also uses 貴様 (Kisama) as the you pronoun for Gojo. Historically, this was a formal way to show respect and then it evolved into an ironic hostile insult sort of thing, much more rude than Omae. Since Sukuna is 1,000 years old, uses Omae for Yuji, who he hates, we can reasonably assume him using Kisama for Gojo is the formal version. (This would be another very funny instance of Gojo thinking Sukuna hates him but he’s actually trying to be nice.)

All of Sukuna's pronoun usage combined with his personality suggests a very tough and rude individual, which he is. However that rough speaking style is exactly why his frequent use of flowery language, double entendre, clever wordplay, art references, and puns is bizarre.

The weird way in which Sukuna uses words is most known by how he speaks to Megumi during their fight at the detention center. (I'm paraphrasing all this person's translation work for this.)

Sukuna uses the phrase "misetemiro" which is commonly translated as "show me/show me what you’ve got". The caveat here is that the "mi" of "misetemiro" can be written as 見 or 魅. When using 見, translating as "show me" is most accurate. When using 魅? The better translation is "bewitch me/enchant me/charm me/fascinate me".

Sukuna, of course, uses 魅, which means he's saying "enchant me" when he uses "misetemiro". It should be noted that this exact phrasing is used for Mahoraga before it cuts off Gojo's arm. (This is apparently what what Sukuna finds to be enchanting. Violence against Gojo Satoru.)

The thing is, Megumi heard Sukuna say "misetemiro", so he likely assumed the common meaning "show me". This is either a case unintentional misunderstanding or Sukuna making his true feelings dubious. That in of itself is the best example of the double-meaning wordplay Sukuna gets up to.

Sukuna seems to be really fond of puns in particular (very old man of him). He calls Yuji 小僧 (kozō) which can be translated as brat, but it also means young/novice monk.

He also uses extremely outdated words. (An example of which was provided by this user.)

You have all of these conflicting speaking mannerisms balled up into one character. It's as if a gangster/ruffian majored in Literature Arts. And that’s precisely why I think he was of low status at birth.

Sukuna's Upbringing

We all know Gojo's Limitless Cursed Technique (CT) is a literal and metaphorical barrier between him and other people. His technique is his isolation. And how it developed informs us directly of how his interpersonal relationships changed with it.

Back when Gojo only had Blue and Infinity had to be manual, it meant that he had downtimes where he was vulnerable. That physical vulnerability doubled as emotional vulnerability and Gojo was able to form a close relationship with Geto and befriend Shoko. After he awakened, Infinity could be on nonstop. Gojo became untouchable to everyone at all times and it destroyed his relationships.

In the same way Gojo's CT compliments his changes from child to adult, I believe Sukuna's CT does the same.

As we all know by now, Sukuna's Shrine or 御厨子 (mizushi) could be referring to a Buddhist shrine used for storage or a imperial palace kitchen. I think it’s both at the same time. To me Sukuna's CT indicates he initially cooked for the emperor and then became an object of worship at a shrine. But I have some additional caveats to this theory.

We know that Sukuna learns by mimicking others. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say he picked up on formalities while being near nobility if he was of low birth. But how did a lowborn like Sukuna get near nobility in the first place?

So historical Japan had a social caste system called Ritsuryō (you can read more about its application in the Heian Era here). The upper class was called Ryōmin (good citizens) and the lower class was called Senmin (low citizens). Amongst the lower class there are the following subcastes:

Ryōko (dedicated to the imperial family or guards of imperial tombs)

Kanko (dedicated to public ministries)

Kenin (servants of high-ranking families)

Kunuhi (slaves of the court)

Shinuhi (slaves of families)

I think Sukuna was a Kunuhi or court slave during his time as an imperial cook. That would give him access to the higher art forms directly or by listening in while also explaining why his speech appears to be a mesh of two completely different backgrounds. (If he were of noble birth, his personal pronoun would likely be Watashi, Waga, or even Ware-Ware like most snobby upper class characters in Japanese media.)

Another trait of the slave class is their forbiddance from having a registered family name. Both Sukuna and Uraume use full names as a show of respect. The fact they only use single names for each other suggests that they have no family names at all and fall under this low class category.

The other thing to note about this caste system is that class mobility in both directions was possible. To what extent I'm not sure (there’s not a lot of in depth literature in English), but this would allow for Sukuna to rise from a lowborn status and fall back to it as the Disgraced One.

In summary:

Sukuna is born and branded an undesirable. (Some of his tattoos match up with markings for both criminals and outcasts. Particularly the single band around the wrist labeled Hinin, a term that translates to non-human used for the lowest social class.)

Sukuna is taken into slavery where his talents start to show. (Durable, 4 limbs, and quick learning make for great labor exploitation.)

Sukuna, as a slave, eventually finds himself working in the kitchen for the emperor where he meets Uraume, who is there under similar circumstances. (Heian nobles were fascinated by commoner life and sometimes took peasants into the palace for entertainment/exploitation. Please read this entire thread on Heian commoner life it’s very good.)

They rise through the ranks together because of hypercompetence.

Eventually Sukuna becomes so strong that he becomes an involuntary saint/warrior monk. (Heian nobles mobilized monks for rituals and maintaining power.)

The court nobles start a smear campaign out of fear of his power and lowly upbringing, which causes Sukuna to have his Joker moment and start eating people. (Based on the mythological Sukuna stories.)

Sukuna's Theoretical Coping Mechanisms

After Gojo endured the fallout from Toji and Geto, he developed coping mechanisms to deal with it. They're all quite unhealthy to be frank—Gojo is very stuck in the past and seems to be in a near-constant state of trying to relive it, but better.

Those traits were all initially introduced as gags. It all made Gojo appear like a very strange, childish, and questionable adult. In retrospect it's all tragic. So with that in mind, I want to examine some of Sukuna's traits that could be a manifestation of past trauma.

It goes without saying that being a slave is traumatic. And the coping mechanisms developed to deal with that level of dehumanization don't go away if someone escapes it.

Sukuna's extreme aversion to being told what to do and self-centeredness reminds me of the ex-slave character, Izutsumi from Dungeon Meshi. She starts out as a slave paraded around as a circus freak after being experimented on before she's sold to a wealthy clan and forced to be a retainer. A curse is placed on her to keep her from escaping in the form of a tattoo around her neck. When she finally frees herself, she is very cat-like in her selfishness, poorly socialized, and abrasive. (Also she is canonically aroace!)

If you noticed, her personality sounds like a description of Sukuna's, so I'm left thinking he has some variation of that backstory (kind of like a combination of Toji and Geto's). It would fit with him being an unwanted child, explain his bizarre manner of speech, and give him a pretty good reason to be the way that he is.

In the same way Gojo used Hanami to relive his trauma but control the outcome, I think Sukuna uses Binding Vows relive and conquer his enslavement. The vows he constantly makes and breaks with himself are a show of control over thing that hurt him.

When binding vows are first introduced, it's by Sukuna and with chains. In the anime the chains constrict Sukuna until they destroy him.

This imagery is rather oppressive in nature. Similar to a prisoner's chains or a slave's chains. (And it's quite common for prisoners to be used for slave labor too.)

I've previously discussed how I view Kenjaku as someone who exists through nonconsent and causes others to relive their trauma. Gojo's sealing illustrates how this kind of manipulation works. And since Gojo's twin flame is Sukuna, I believe Kenjaku did something similar to him.

We've already established how much Sukuna hates taking orders from people and how much he wants to fight Gojo. Everything he has done for the past 6 months was for Gojo. And guess who stops him from obtaining what he desires? Kenjaku through a binding vow.

Sukuna also calls Yuji an 檻 (ori) which can be translated as cage. The type of "cage" ori can refer to is either one for animals or for criminals. Kenjaku pretty much created Yuji to contain Sukuna in this manner.

So we have 2 forms of restriction encroach on Sukuna's boundaries in a way that would be reminiscent of slavery. If Sukuna and Uraume are former slaves, their treatment of Kenjaku and each other makes sense.

With Uraume, Sukuna is gentle and reassuring. He faces towards them when speaking and will initiate conversations, going out of his way to praise their work. This seems a bit out of character given how harshly Sukuna treats others, even those he respects.

Uraume is constantly apologizing to Sukuna in a way that suggests in the past they were punished severely for the slightest mess up. Given their relationship and how little Sukuna cares when they're not perfect, I don't think Sukuna was the one to make Uraume feel this way. If they're ex-slaves, this constant groveling would read as trauma response, and Sukuna's reassurance would be him showing consideration for someone who went through something similar.

With Kenjaku, Sukuna never makes eye contact, often has his back turned, and only responds when spoken to. Uraume is constantly pissed at Kenjaku's presence and tries to keep the two separate as much as possible.

Whatever binding vow Kenjaku has wrapped Sukuna in is clearly upsetting to the both of them. I imagine those were the tools used to subjugate people within the Jujutsu hierarchy. Wait I don't need speculate on that point, Yuta already did this for me when he was forced to execute Yuji via a binding vow with the higher ups.

And you know who else might have suffered the exact same way? Uro.

And boy is Uro strikingly similar to Sukuna, enough for Yuta to notice. She had no name, was groomed into being a weapon by nobles, discarded after being used, and is now someone who toys with sorcerers as she tries to become her own person while scorning bonds/love.

And if you recall, Sukuna obliterated the Fujiwara Subjugation Clan and Uro isn't really mad at him for that.

Not just Uro, but Ryu is similar to Sukuna as well in his hunger and seeing others as meals to satisfy him.

These parallels seem deliberate and may hint of how Sukuna was treated in the past and what his true motivations are. Uro seeing the incarnation as a chance at a second life as her own person is probably how Sukuna feels. But you know. Both of them are beholden to Kenjaku so that “freedom” came with a steep price.

What separates Uro and Ryu from Sukuna is that they acknowledge exactly why they're here. They reflect on their old lives and take action to address their problems. Sukuna seems to be in some kind of state of denial.

I have no doubt Sukuna is serious when his ideals don't go beyond himself. What's troubling is how unaware of why he feels this way. He won't even acknowledge his hunger for an equal which is obvious to everyone else. He also doesn't seem to know why he incarnated, dodging Kashimo’s question on it entirely. It reminds me of Gojo, who despite being blatantly motivated by Geto and Toji, never shows it except in fleeting instances. And those instances are either internal or deliberately vague to whoever is hearing it.

I think this is because acknowledging he experienced weakness at one point in his life is admitting that he can be put in a position like that again. That can be a scary thing to confront. Gojo doesn't deal with the fact he can be made vulnerable and does everything in his power to prevent it while pretending nothing is wrong. Sukuna is doing the same thing when speaks of the past as briefly as possible and crushes anyone who might have power over him.

Uro herself kind of puts that motivating trauma in the back of her mind until Yuta's Fujiwara heritage and ideas trigger her. Not wanting to recall your life as a nameless slave and having it incidentally brought up by the phrase "live for others" kind of sounds like the beef Sukuna has with Yuji.

And imagine if Uro was trapped in Yuta’s body, where this lucky individual, born free, decides to become a Cog of his own volition. She would probably never stop hating him. (I think Sukuna is mad Yuji chose the life he escaped.)

This would also fit well with his initial view of heriarchies. As long as he's the strongest, he doesn't have to worry about becoming a slave again.

And in a way, this is also him showing concern for Gojo. You’re this strong and letting these fudgers push you around? Kill them.

I also think that's why this Yuji quote is going to age poorly.

I don't think Sukuna ever had the chance to live normally. This would also make this exchange really interesting.

Sukuna suggesting he has suffered more than Yuji fascinates me. Of all the things that could possibly be worse than what Yuji went through, I think existing as a slave and being subject to discrimination since childhood would make for a pretty compelling case.

Rejecting Love as Cope

I’ve been on about how Sukuna hates on love as a cope in other posts. I think the former slave angle gives a little more weight to this idea, his poor social skills, and general aversion to other people.

Love is a type of tethering to another person. Sometimes it results in marriage, a legal contract that binds you to another with a myriad of social expectations. If Sukuna is a former slave, his aversion to that sort of thing is only natural. Relationships of anykind are a bond that comes with restrictions.

I keep bringing up Yorozu because analyzing the ways in which she upsets Sukuna is useful for understanding him. Sukuna is most dead-eyed when marriage comes up and he sees losing as the same thing as death. The common problem here is Yorozu’s desire to control Sukuna’s life.

If you know anything about ex-slaves, it’s that they would rather die than go back to that.

Sukuna being the strongest means that no one can ever hold that kind of power over him again. And like Gojo, he believes human connections and love are a point of weakness that need to be discarded to obtain absolute strength. If Gojo is using that excuse to run away from others, Sukuna is using it too.

Despite rejecting all forms of love for the sake of self-preservation, Sukuna expresses cravings for it in very roundabout ways. Usually with how he mocks it.

Another puntastic bit of foreshadowing with Sukuna and Yuji’s binding vow, Enchain also doubles as a discussion about love.

Here's a link to the full poem and context of it.

In summary, it’s about a soldier who is on the brink of death, having lost nearly everything after being abandoned by those in power, lamenting the happiest days of his life with his love are ones he can never get back. (Kind of sounds like how Sukuna ruins Yuji’s life.)

Sukuna canonically reads literature about love and he will use that knowledge to torment people. That’s pretty interesting for someone who hates it. There’s also the underlying theme of exploitation and discardment in this poem that reflects how Jujutsu Society treats sorcerers. And in both cases, the strength to survive and love can’t be had.

Sukuna calls Kashimo greedy for wanting both. But much much earlier Sukuna warns Yuji that there are consequences for being greedy.

I really wonder why he believes that.

Jujutsu Society and Labor Exploitation

The other interesting thing about Izutsumi is how aimless she is after learning the modifications to her body are irreversible despite obtaining freedom. She simply doesn’t know what to do with this. And that makes sense. Grand ambitions take a backseat when all you know is surviving. Her development involves slowly learning how build relationships with others that aren’t exploitative and coping with the permanent changes to her body. And it only comes about because the people she finds herself with are other social weirdos who give her the space and time to change.

That’s what seems to be the problem with Sukuna. He doesn’t have a space within sorcerer or non-sorcerer society where he’ll be accepted and won’t be exploited. But I don’t need to tell you that, Nanami will.

He’s miserable as a sorcerer or not. Might as well pick the one he is good at.

Later he recounts exactly what made him come back.

And if you noticed, his listlessness after escaping Jujutsu and “I always thought that having a 'purpose in life' had nothing to do with me” is very similar to Sukuna’s boredom and “I'd never though about it. ...Ideals. Desires that go beyond oneself”.

It’s weird that Nanami and Sukuna have similar realizations about their place in society while arriving at completely different ways to deal with it. I think that’s intentional.

From an interview with Gege:

"If there was one thing worth mentioning, it's that no one has the ultimate truth. The “good guys” and the “bad guys”. Some seek to kill the hero out of pure selfishness, but others are led to this decision by logical reasoning. If no one is really right, then no one is wrong either. Each character is guided by their own ethics."

I've interpreted this quote as the author telling me to consider the characters as having similar motivations, but completely different methodologies and logic driving their actions. With that in mind, I have concluded the following:

Every single character that’s kind of insane has recognized the same problem. Japanese work culture sucks. It grinds you to dust, leaves you with no freetime, and even corrodes your identity under the guise of collectivism. “The nail that sticks out gets hammered down.” is the go-to Japanese proverb to justify conformity to this suffering. Uro calls it out exactly.

Toji and Maki are beaten into place, used as scapegoats, and isolated by their families for being born wrong and staining the Zenin reputation by existing. Toji decided the solution was killing sorcerers and leaving Jujutsu society. Maki decided the solution was killing her family (she did nothing wrong) and building a better Jujutsu society with allies.

Geto, Nanami, and Gojo all broke from overwork that isolated them and never allowed them to grieve. Geto decided the solution was killing non-sorcerers and leaving Jujutsu society. Nanami decided the solution was leaving Jujutsu society and doing non-sorcerer work. Gojo decided the solution was reforming Jujutsu society and eventually killing the higher ups (based).

So despite all these different solutions, some of which are indefensible, I understand exactly why they became that way. They’re dealing with labor exploitations and dehumanization without the theoretical framework to be productive about it. (Gojo is the closest person to discovering what a union is.)

Geto snapped from a single traumatic event coupled with the knowledge that his labor would be exploited until he joined the mountain of sorcerers’ corpses. Though he was introduced as a mass murdering lunatic, there were always hints of how badly he wanted sorcerers to be free of exploitation. (Karl Marx could’ve saved him.)

Sukuna experiencing the most egregious form of labor exploitation, slavery would fit into these themes nicely I think. It's the ultimate form of dehumanization—becoming a literal commodity for people to sell, trade, and break. (And him deciding to be this wild about it would be understandable to me at least because I truly believe in the John Brown solution for slaveowners.)

Sukuna is fond of Megumi, Maki, Gojo, and Jogo. Megumi was sold by his father to a clan, the Zenins tried to make Maki subservient for being female, Gojo was bossed around and run ragged by the higher ups, and Jogo was puppetted around by Kenjaku. All of these characters are powerful individuals that for one reason or another were shafted by societal constraints that had them exploited by others weaker than them. Since Sukuna likes people similar to him, it's not a stretch to assume he’s recognizing their hurt as his own.

And just like Geto, instead of abolishing the hierarchy that subjugated him, Sukuna has chosen to sit atop it to escape. But unlike Geto, Sukuna doesn't dream of a world where he enforces it. (The guy clearly hates having responsibilities and doesn't want to be a ruler. He just wants to do what he wants whenever he wants. You know, having freedom.)

Sukuna existed within a society where it was acceptable to own people if you were strong enough. The fact he treats Uraume, a voluntary servant, so well and refuses to keep slaves speaks volumes. Sukuna may live for himself but he clearly has some form of ethics about it.

Wait, what about Megumi’s subjugation?

Well, sometimes people are hypocrites. Nanami, Mr. Would’ve Loved Unions and outspoken labor critic, is content with pushing all the work onto Gojo, who has suffered in the exact same way he has.

Maybe it’s resentment for his Gojo’s birth making curses stronger and therefore harder to deal with. Maybe he sees Gojo as everything wrong with Jujutsu and is lashing out. The point is, I don’t know why Nanami made the exception to his rules for Gojo and that’s why I’m clueless on where Megumi fits into this theory.

I’m not sure if Sukuna intends to keep Megumi as a puppet forever. For the sake of his own entertainment, he’ll probably release him after ingesting his final finger if Yuji can’t separate them first. And in a very twisted way, his treatment of Megumi could also be seen as a cruel training regiment. Sukuna thinks suffering and isolation brings strength. That’s how he’s justifying whatever happened to him.

But on the other hand, maybe he won’t. Because now Megumi has the blueprint for surpassing him. Defeat means being a slave again and Sukuna can’t have that.

[sskk-manifesto]

:)

[hella1975]

my mum: you've been doing really good lately. every part of your life is really stable and you seem genuinely happy, it's great to see :)

me, who's felt like ive been going actually crazy bananas insane for months now: yeah haha

[anonymusbosch]

.

[girlscience]

anyone else feel like they are playing dress up all the time and no matter how you present yourself it's always wrong? or is that just me.

[spirirsstuff]

ughhhh why can’t songs be good the entire way through

[2tcs]

DPxDC prompt (?)

Okay I'm thinking Danny, with a de-aged Dan and Ellie, move to Gotham while being hunted by the GIW. What's the first thing he does after securing a place to stay? Why, contact the local revenant of course. This is kinda how I see it going.

“Ay boss, is someun er ta see ya.” Bob said while peeking through the open office door. Everyone knows that when Red Hood has his door open it was okay to pop in. No one has made the mistake of interrupting the Hood when the doors closed a second time.

“Who is it?” Jason asked, not even looking up from his papers.

“Says he goes by ‘Danny’.” Bob said while stepping fully into office.

“Who the fuck is Danny? Don't think I know anyone by that name. What's he look like?” Jason asked, signing off on something before putting it aside.

“Not sommun from round er. Skinny fella. He’s one a them twinks is wha I think they called em. He’s Wayne bait. Thas fo cerain.” Bob saids with a shrug.

With a sigh Jason stands up and moves the rest of his papers into one of his desk’s drawers.

“Fine. Let him in. Probably Replacement with that description.” Jason says. Grumbling the last part.

A few minutes later a young man. Maybe a year younger than Jason walked in. Wayne bait was definitely an understatement. Like I had all the physical characteristics and was marking the exits.

“So Danny, what can the great Red Hood do for you?” Jason asked while spreading his arms wide.

“Me and my kids need to lay low. Crime Alley seemed like the best place for that.” Danny said before shifting his eyes to look a little to the right of Jason's helmeted head.

“A lot of people come here when they have nowhere else to go. But few come talk to me about it.” Jason said while leaning back in his chair.

Danny looked back at Jason with a considering look before sighing and pulling out a flash drive from one of his pockets.

“Look. The only reason why I'm approaching you is because this might affect some of the people in Gotham. And now that I've gotten a good look at you I guarantee it will affect you specifically if the people who are after me come here. It wouldn't sit right with me if I didn't give you some sort of heads up.” He said while placing the USB on the desk and stepping back.

“What's on it?” Jason asked nodding towards the USB.

“Laws that make it legal for people like us to be captured, experimented on, and ended. If you want to know more you just have to plug in the USB and read through the files.” Danny said. “As for me I just want to keep my kids safe. Do you have any questions for me while I'm here or am I good to go?”

“Yeah. What made you decide that here was the best place to lay low?”

“What better place to hide than one of the most cursed cities in America?” Danny said before offering a half hearted salute and walking out of the office.

[lawofcollage]

From a Campaign Perspective: Why Endorsing Kamala Harris Makes the Most Sense

Yay, Biden stepped back! (if this is how you found out and not the supernatural alert system meme... oops)

Let's talk about why Kamala Harris makes the most sense even if she, like Biden, is not one of our first choices (though she's higher on my list, certainly)

(My credentials: Former campaign worker, poli sci degree, etc)

It'd be really fucked up for him to step back and cause a PR disaster for the Dems. Kamala Harris has been at his side this whole time. Stepping over her, a woman of color who has already been doing much of the work, would cause a public relations crisis.

Kamala Harris has name recognition. We know who she is, and we at least vaguely know what she stands for. Name recognition is hugely important in an election and we do not have enough time to build it right now. This is not the time to pick someone that we've never heard of before or even vaguely never heard of.

She's run a campaign before. She knows how to do this, she has a platform that she can modify a little as needed and be ready to go over night. She has the donors from last time and everything.

She's already got a campaign schedule for Biden, she can modify that easily to suit her own needs and has more freedom to campaign than the current president because she's *not* the current president, she doesn't have COVID right now, and she's not older than dirt.

She is perfectly capable of making Trump look like a fucking idiot on stage. The highlight reel is gonna look so much better next time, hopefully.

Personal speculation: I think people are far less likely to sit it out with her name at the top of the ticket.

So what should you be doing right now?

Let's start simple. Understand that Biden did what many of us wanted right here. He stepped away from the campaign he was running and handed it off to someone younger. Fuck yeah!

Also remember that anyone who encourages you not to vote likely has an alternative agenda that involves you having less power to use your voice.

Ok, what else?

Check your voter registration here.

Not registered? You’ve moved and it’s out of date? Update your voter registration/registration here.

Don’t forget to vote up and down the ballot! Local elections matter, and hopefully you’ll find someone you’re a lot more passionate about on a local level.

And make sure your friends do the same!!!!

This website also covers what you may need to bring with you the day of. Some states require you to bring your ID, for example, so go check.Your state may have early voting options, and you should definitely use those! They make life a lot easier. You can check those out here.

P.S. Make sure to check your voter registration closer to the election as well, just in case. Probably sometime in September would be best, but just keep an eye out.

[glitchfiles]

only 'til dawn. [ljn]

pairing ⋆ badboy!jeno x inexperienced/goodgirl!reader

wordcount ⋆ 2.7k+

warnings ⋆ SMUT MINORS DNI!!!, softdom!jeno, smoking, shotgunning, car sex, big dick jeno, corruption, praise, light degradation, oral (m receiving), cowgirl, spanking (once), light choking, creampie...

note ⋆ i had to leave this one in my drafts for some time first because i didn't want to upload two car sex fics in a row then i wanted to rewrite it then i couldn't be asked to do that fully... so yeah, enjoy :D

"fuck," jeno drawls out as his head lolls to the side, "you're shit at this." he chuckles at your feeble attempt to give him a blowjob.

you look up at him, he seems totally unphased by your attempts to get him off, even going as far as to fish a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of the inner pocket of his leather jacket. the scowl that forms on your brow shows how much it dents your pride; he smirks down at you tauntingly.

"open your mouth a little more." he places a cigarette between his lips and lights the end. "you don't mind if i smoke, right?" you roll your eyes, he could have asked before. at least he had the courtesy to wind the window down.

there was no reason for you to debase yourself like this, the whole situation is beyond demeaning. you’re on your knees in the back of jeno’s car, struggling to please him and now he’s having a smoke mid-head?!

it felt as if your jaw was about to unhinge at any moment, you didn’t know it could stretch this far. the girls in the videos made it look so easy, compared to them, the way you were slobbering all over his girth was far from sexy. not to mention how you were clumsily pumping the rest of his length. not to toot your own horn, but you picked things up easily, this was a whole different ballpark to academic work. 

"you're too big," you whine. your lack of experience definitely didn't have anything to do with the shoddy head you were giving. how he was still hard was a wonder, you’re sure he’s seconds away from going flaccid.

normally, he would have put an end to the whole thing. it's not like he wasn't one text away from a few girls that could suck the soul out of him. however, considering how unsavoury his reputation was, the fact that you, the university’s golden girl, and much-revered student union president, were so eager to please him behind closed doors inflated his ego more than anything else could.

he couldn’t help but find humour in how ardently you refused to acknowledge him in public at times like this; if you spotted him on campus you looked the other way. but the moment he shot you a text, you were swooning and giggling, begging to meet up. so, here you were, in the dead of night, at the back of an empty parking lot a couple of miles away from campus.

“you’re lucky you have a patient teacher, i’m going to turn you into an expert!” jeno directs you between drags of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out of the windows as he laughs at you being unable to get the hang of it. saying you feel frustrated would be an understatement.

"i don't want to do this anymore," you sit up, finally admitting defeat and letting his heavy cock flop down against his abdomen. if jeno were a better person, he would have stopped you a few minutes ago, but you were so eager to please him and he loved the adorable pout on your lips and how your brows furrowed whenever you were exasperated.

"then what do you want to do?" you can think of a few things, but they would be super embarrassing to say. so, you refused to answer. he sighs before slotting his cigarette between his lips, leaving his hands free to pull you onto his lap.

"wanna try?" you don't know what possesses you, but you nod. 

how bad can it be? 

he taps the burnt end off, letting the ashes fall out the window before setting the cigarette between your lips. it feels childish to admit, but the fact that you had shared an indirect kiss makes you smile. this doesn't last long, though; after a short pull, you end up choking.

"god, that's awful!" you squeak as he belly laughs, only stopping when you hit his chest. all he's done tonight is tease you.

"i thought so too when i first tried." he soothes you, so as to not incur any more of your light-handed wrath. "why don't we start with some baby steps?" 

you're unsure what he means until his large, rough hand is placed gently under your jaw and his thumb brushes over your lower lip, "open up for me, angel."

he takes a long drag before tilting his head to the side and filling your mouth with a thick cloud of smoke. you're not sure what this is, but it feels intimate. it feels as if he’s breathing life into you. your whole body warms and tingles, your head spins, and a fire lights in your core.

once his lungs are empty, he seals it with a kiss. it's slow and passionate. his hand slides round to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. maybe it’s the nicotine running through your veins, you feel lightheaded. you let him slip his tongue past your lips to dance around your own.

the sweet flavour of your strawberry lip balm he was used to intermingled with the bitterness of his cigarette. he can't help but groan at the fact you taste a lot more like him now. 

the cigarette he's momentarily forgotten in his hand gets flicked away to burn to a butt somewhere on the tarmac outside. his now free hand comes to rest on your hip. it guides your body forwards, bringing your clothed centre flush against his bare cock.

you mewl into his mouth, he swallows down the sound. he’s greedy for more and starts rocking against you. grinding out then gulping down your noises, they go straight down to his cock. it’s throbbing, you can feel how painfully hard he is underneath you. only when he’s met with an uncomfortable stickiness due to his precum seeping through his shirt does he put an end to his gluttony.

a begrudging whine fills the car as he pulls your lips away from him. the look in his eyes alone was almost enough to make you cream, it was different to the cocky, yet lewd, eye fucking that seemed to be his default. those dark eyes of his turned into endless pits of boundless desire.

warm hands glide under your sweater, tugging it over your head, off your body to let it land somewhere in the front of his car. he does the same with his own shirt, sitting back to let you admire the rippling muscles on his torso. you delicately placed a hand on his chest, sliding it down to his abdomen; it seems he doesn’t have to have his dick in your mouth to have you drooling over him.

“like what you see, baby?” the smug look on his face makes your stomach twist.

“shut up,” you smash your lips against his again before he can speak again. 

jeno rushes to unclasp your bra, pushing the fabric out of his way so he can knead at your breasts; not before long, his mouth leaves you to pepper kisses down your neck then it encloses around one of your pert nipples. 

“mmm, jeno!” you mewl as his tongue laps at the bud, causing your back to arch in search of more stimulation. a hand weaves itself into his inky, thick locks, pushing him to give attention to the other side. “jeno, more!”

“i love hearing you say my name,” he growls against your chest, “wanted to hear you say it all week, but you don’t even spare me a glance unless i have my cock out.” 

you ignore the slight bitterness in his tone focusing on how he nips at your skin, leaving dark marks he hopes will last until he next sees you. marks that he hopes others will see and know you belong to someone; you’ll probably chastise him later over text but he doesn’t care, anything to keep him on your mind like you're always on his. 

reluctantly, he detaches himself from your chest and sits back, eyeing the drying traces of saliva he left with a dazed smile. 

“what next? tell me.” his hands delicately caress your hips, your cheeks begin to heat up and you avoid his eye contact. “don’t act all coy now, where’s the girl that begged me to drive her out here and fuck her dumb?” 

you were still clinging onto the last dregs of your virtuous good girl persona - the last white spots on a canvas he had first found unsullied. your first sin had been naivety, too easily seduced by a good-looking face and the sweet nothings he whispered in your ears but he had been more than happy to lengthen the list.

you wondered if this was how you had always been - or was he corrupting you. he broke down every conception you had of yourself and no one outside of the car you both sat in would believe this was you - you barely did yourself. some would say he was ruining you, but he’d never make you do something you didn’t want to, this was all you.

“please…” you let your head fall onto the crook of his neck, voice barely above a whisper. “want you inside.”

“a smart girl like you can be more descriptive than that.” he strokes a finger down your back, leaving a trail of heat on your spine, in hopes of prompting lewder vocabulary. you take a moment to chew your bottom lip and swallow down the last bit of dignity you had.

“please, fuck me.” you weep against the shell of his ear, “fill my pussy up, i need you so bad, jeno.” 

“sound so pretty when you tell me what you want.” his low-toned praise makes you shiver as he flips your skirt up and raises your hips. he pushes your panties to the side to position his cock at your dripping entrance. taking a second to tease your slit, making sure to brush over your swollen clit, only to hold you still when your hips jerk forward.

“look at me, angel.” you perk up for him, “so beautiful,” he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. his gaze holds yours firmly as he brings you down on his bulbous tip, stretching you out slowly.

you struggle to keep your eyes from shutting. your mouth hangs open letting out hushed gasps as you sink down an inch at a time. he thinks you’re the prettiest creature he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“keep going... yeah, just like that... so good...” his soft gaze, light touch and encouraging words make things easier. he can feel your walls begin to relax and hungrily accept his girth. 

“‘s so fucking big,” you wail out, not even having taken him fully. you couldn’t quite yet without his help, though you’ll get there eventually - he’d make sure of that. 

“i know, baby, but you take me so well. can you move for me?” you nod shyly, lifting yourself and dropping back down as far as you can with a long whine. up and down, you split yourself open over and over. 

jeno’s hands press into your flesh, silently encouraging you to take more of him. you work your hips faster, earning a deep groan from him as his head falls back. instinctively, your mouth attaches itself to his neck, mimicking the way he had kissed and sucked at your own earlier.

“for such a sweet, innocent girl, you sure do ride like a slut.” he breathily laughs as his hand comes down on your ass with a sounding slap. “like the way my cock stretches this tight cunt out.” there’s no hiding the way your walls clench at the sharp sting. you try to find refuge from your embarrassment by hiding your face in his shoulder, but he quickly takes ahold of your throat, forcing you to sit up straight.

“don’t hide from me,” he tells you warningly and squeezes your neck lightly. once again your eyes lock, his stare as intense as ever. your teeth sink into your bottom lip and you rest your hands on his strong chest, adopting a faster pace. 

he lets out moans which you naturally reciprocate, however, you embellish yours with his name; you feel his cock twitch at the sound of it. the look in his eyes turns wild as his fingers dig deeper into the meat of your ass, forming a nearly bruising grip; with the other hand, he’s careful not to cut off airflow but forms a hold that leaves you feeling dizzy. 

“you know exactly what you do to me.” he chuckles, “you were fucking made for me, made for taking my cock, weren’t you? yeah, so perfect, angel.”

your legs begin to shake, his words and his cock are quickly pushing you towards the pinnacle. you try your very best to work through the overwhelming pleasure and the ache in your thighs, wanting to get him off since you failed at sucking his dick. but you can't seem to power through it, tears well in your eyes as everything becomes too overwhelming, it's far too much.

“need help, baby?” his soft spot for you wins, “did such a good job for me. i’ll take care of you, make you cum all over my cock. want that?”

“please, need to cum so bad.” his hand leaves your neck and places itself and your other asscheek. he plants his feet firmly and then rams up into you.

your brain goes blank in an instant. 

he’s deep. so deep. too deep!

you cry out, nails digging into his broad, muscular shoulders to anchor yourself. the tears that had threatened to leave your eyes before stream down your face, staining your cheeks. your whole body quivers as his cock lays kisses on your cervix with each thrust. 

“jeno, oh my god, right there!” you practically scream. his face screws at the feeling of your walls constricting, getting tighter by the second and making it harder to move; he powers through by jackhammering into you with more force. 

it feels like you could break at any moment, he's bouncing you on his cock like you're a ragdoll and you're too weak to do anything but take and enjoy it. all it takes is a few more thrusts before you’re creaming all over him. your body seizes as your eyes roll back, and his name tumbles from your lips incessantly in pleasured sobs. 

it’s hard to keep you in one place as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, but he handles your squirming body with ease using his strength. the most ungodly wet squelches fill the car as he races towards his own release, your sticky mess clings to both of your thighs. 

“shit… pussy’s sucking me in so deep, gonna cum.” his chest rises and falls dramatically, he can barely breathe. his thrusts get choppier as he loses himself to the feral urge to paint your insides pearly white.

a heavy groan rips through him as his balls tighten, he nestles his cock nice and deep as he pours hot spurts of cum into you. he fills you with warmth; you feel complete for a moment. unfortunately, all good things must come to an end eventually. 

you could almost start crying again when he pulls you off of him. his praise on how well you took his cum as it dribbles out of your cunt makes up for it, though. his tongue swipes across his lips as he watches it drip all over his cock, unbothered by the fact half of it is soiling his leather car seats too. 

the sound of your wild breathing is all that fills the car for a moment until his lips find yours one last time. breathlessly kissing you, there is less vigour than before but just as much passion. your heart warms for a moment at the almost bashful smile on his face as he rests his forehead against yours and wipes the tears that still cling to your soft skin.

this feels right, perfect even, but it only takes a few words for him to fuck it all up.

“wanna come over to mine?” jeno regrets his words immediately, the expression on your face sour at the thought of someone spotting you walking into his dorm or one of his loud-mouthed roommates blabbering about you spending the night together.

give jeno a hand and he’ll end up taking the whole arm.

you pull away from him suddenly remembering who you are.

“don’t be ridiculous, you know i can’t even be caught dead with you.” you grimace at the mess between your legs as you reposition your panties; then, you search for the clothing he had strewn around the car.

you don’t even look at him when you demand him to. “just drop me off where you usually do.”

jeno grins even at your cold-hearted rejection. not just anyone could say they had a place between your legs; he’s sure he’ll have a place in your heart too soon enough…

★ thanks for reading! my inbox is open for feedback and requests! :3

© glitchfiles

[fastandcarlos]

When He Pulls You Into His Hold » F1 Reaction

» Max Verstappen

Making you jump is one of Max’s favourite things to do, and so he tends to pull you into his hold when you least expect it. The way your face flashes with panic makes him chuckle until you look back and realise that it’s only Max, allowing your expression to settle back into a smile. As much as you want to hit him for making you jump in terror, you can’t help but just relax into Max’s hold and rest your head against his chest whilst his fingers dance through your his, especially once he begins to kiss against the top of your head.

» Lando Norris

Usually Lando will hold onto you whenever he starts to feel his anxiety creeping in. He holds you to feel secure and loved, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he feels your hands over his arm. “You good bub?” You often whisper back to him, feeling his head nod against your bare skin as he struggles to find the words. Having you to squeeze is the perfect distraction for Lando, switching off and escaping into the bubble of only you and him. Whenever he can feel his heartbeat quicken, he searches for you to bring him back again.

» Charles LeClerc

You could be forgiven for thinking that Charles isn’t paying attention to you a lot when he pulls you into his hold, but actually, he does. His mind wonders to think about you when he’s doing even the most boring of jobs: scrolling through his phone; pretending to listen to someone talk or when you’re getting ready for bed. Those are the moments when he wants you closest the most as the feeling of you right beside him brightens any moment and brings a smile to his face as soon as your eyes meet, sending Charles into a melting mess.

» Carlos Sainz

Sleepy Carlos is definitely the favourite version of him that you love holding onto. His grip is tight to begin with but slowly loosens as he finds himself relaxing more around you. A faint whisper of your name will call through and let you know that he wants you, being the big spoon around you as you tell him about your day. A cuddle and your voice are the perfect combination to leave Carlos feeling weary, and soon enough you can usually hear the faint sounds of snores coming from behind you as Carlos settles holding on to his comfort person.

» George Russell

Whenever he misses you, George is there and holding onto you tightly so that he can familiarise himself with you. No moment is better for you both then that first hug, when George holds onto you a little tighter and for a little longer. There are never any words between the two of you, just the way that you hold onto one another tells you both exactly how the other is feeling and just how much you’ve both been missed. The embrace makes both of youth warts race and releases several signs of relief from you both as you’re reunited again.

» Daniel Ricciardo

You expect Daniel to pull you into his hold whenever you’re within reaching distance, it’s a habit for him that makes his heart happy having you right there beside him. There’s almost a smirk on your face whenever you think that you’ve managed to pass Daniel, but at the last minute his hand wraps around your wrists and pulls you as close as he possibly can. His bright smile meets you as you glance up, “didn’t think you’d get away that easily, did you?” He can’t help but tease, kissing against your temple as your head shakes at his sniggers.

» Oscar Piastri

More than most Oscar likes to hold you as it’s his way of protecting you and making sure that you’re close by. “I got you,” he’ll often whisper to you before pressing a kiss against your cheek in amongst the chaos that engulfs your busy lives. Oscar prefers to have his arm wrapped tightly around you, but if he’s only able to intertwine one of his fingers in with yours, he’ll reluctantly take it, searching for more, as long as he can hold onto you somehow and reassure you that you’re not alone then that’s all that matters to him.

» Pierre Gasly

Teasing cuddles are Pierre’s absolute favourite, he’ll love to hold onto you and do something that will make you resist against him. “Not today,” he’ll whisper against your neck, using his hot breath to send a shiver down your spine, or he’ll pinch against your waist to tickle against your bare skin as your shirt rides up, tightening his grip ever so slightly so that you can’t get away from him. Anything Pierre can do to get you to plead with him and hear you murmur against his name in between laughter he’ll try his absolute best to succeed at.

» Lewis Hamilton

Holding onto you is a subconscious thing for Lewis, without even thinking his arms reach out to you and make sure that you’re as close to him as your bodies will allow. He could be in an important meeting or listening to an important person, but that doesn’t stop his fingertips from brushing against your body or his chin resting against your shoulder gently. It often sends shivers down your spine as you hear his hums just underneath your ear as he acknowledges what is going on around him, despite his mind mostly just being filled with thoughts of you.

» Lance Stroll

More than anything else it’s habit for Lance to be holding onto you, he doesn’t even need to think to do it anymore. He’s there because he wants to make you feel loved, if you’re happy he’ll hold you and giggle away with you, if you’re sad then he’ll squeeze you extra tight to try and make you smile again, or if you’re just fancying a cuddle, Lance will be there to fulfil your need. “Is this alright?” He will constantly ask you, desperate to make sure that he is doing the right thing and leaving you with a heart that made you feel adored.

 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[maxwellatoms]

In one of your last answers, you said “series reboots are usually pretty gross and sad”, and I was wondering if you could expand on that? Assuming “reboot” covers any kind of continuation of a currently cancelled or finished show (and maybe that’s the wrong assumption!), from the outside looking in it feels like a pretty mixed bag. On one hand, if I love XYZ Show, it’s cool that I get more stories with these characters and another chance to support XYZ Show and its creators. On the other, it definitely feels like a lot of ideas can only get funding if they’re tied to something already, meaning creatives are having to now tie whatever cool idea they have to some reboot/relaunch/retread, which can feel pretty disheartening if you don’t want to do a reboot/relaunch/retread. Is that a similar feeling from your side of the industry?

Thank you so much for all your answers and insight!

Usually reboots and spin-offs are just cash grabs. It happens a lot in animation. In fact, I would argue that the entire industry is just one big cash grab now. In the 80s, everyone complained that cartoons were just half-hour commercials for toys. And they were right. And we're right back there, but now that you can't legally push toys all day, it's just general "IP". Mugs, posters, more spinoffs, whatever.

I was offered three show running gigs over the pandemic. All reboots that I would consider unwise to pursue because they were "of a different time" and didn't (in my opinion) have anything more to say. Two of them were properties created by notorious sex pests, so there's also that. The animation industry loves to prop up its sex pests.

I turned all of them down, partially because I didn't respect the original creators but also because none of them had anything going for them except just being "more of the same".

I don't think any of those projects survived the intervening years, so in retrospect I maybe should've taken the job. I'd probably feel a bit gross, but at least I'd have floors in my house.

The entertainment industry is in a bad spot. The whole thing. I've had I don't know how many pitch meetings in the last few years, and they all start the same way:

"Hey! Before we start, we just want to let you know that we're not actively producing anything right now. We think maybe soon, but we won't be picking anything up today..."

And then later:

"The little we are doing is IP, so if you have a new take on our IP or a new IP you're connected to that you can bring in, that'd be great."

I always wanted to make original stuff. There came a time when I'd had my fill of Billy & Mandy and wanted to do something else new and original. That never manifested, and I was constantly being offered IP to produce. I turned too many of those down, maybe, before deciding that it was probably better that I run the IPs that mean something to me rather than having some hack do it.

But now those jobs have all gone to celebrities and fallen live-action writers, who are also slowly being eaten by the system. WB was hot for Scooby stuff a few years back, so I pitched some ideas. A few of them were turned down for being "off-brand" in a variety of ways. WB has now made (I think) all of those off-brand shows (or something close) with celebrity show runners.

I was going through a whole Midlife Impostor Syndrome thing recently where I was wondering if maybe I don't just suck. Like, it's weird that for a couple of decades I'd have people calling me trying to get me to run shows, and now nobody will call me back about the possibility of a design job.

Talking to some friends and realizing that they were in a similar situation helped me feel like I wasn't alone. That was nice. Talking to some of the most talented colleagues in my industry made me made me realize that those people weren't getting jobs either. That was unnerving. Talking to complete strangers in other parts of the entertainment industry now has me thinking that the whole house of cards is coming down. That's real concerning, yo.

It's hard not to think it's purposeful, when deranged billionaires own the entirety of our media and want to shape a society where they can't be criticized. We're letting wealthy tech bros firebomb the very heart of our culture, and it's weird that no one is talking about it. Because (for now) we still have that capability.

[ham1lton]

HE SAYS TO BE COOL (I DON’T KNOW HOW YET)

pairings: jenson button x maneater!reader.

warnings: large age gap - around twenty years. a lot of judgement and criticism as there is scrutiny of your relationship.

summary: after a party at a mutual friend’s, you and jenson are photographed leaving together. the large age gap causes concern especially after your admission that you had a crush on him as a young driver.

author’s note: so this is NOT a part of the main maneater storyline. this is just a what if scenario. just something indulgent for the maneaters out there who go for dilfs! last time i checked the friendship group poll, it was practically 50/50 so until that’s decided, there is a big group of all them. also as per usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote <3

— a part of the maneater series ꕤ

liked by messybitch1, landonorris and 1,728,838 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: after the release of lewis hamilton’s newest almave drink, formula one driver y/n l/n, better known as maneater, was seen outside of the event looking quite cozy with former formula one driver and forty-four year old jenson button. how are we feeling about this new power couple, ham1ltons?

view all comments

user1: poor lewis. his drink release has been completely overshadowed by this news 😭

user3: age gap couples never last long lol. good luck but he’ll move on to the next twenty something as soon as she shows one sign of aging.

user34: SHUT UP HES SO FINE 😭 i’d do the same as you y/n girl.

-> user51: LIKE 😭😭😭 bffr. most of the ppl here would fold for their older celeb crush.

user7: idk who’s benefiting more from this relationship? but it’s definitely not love.

user9: Y/N!!!! I’LL SAVE YOU!!!

user2: not jenson going through his mid-life crisis post-divorce. girl u can do better.

user8: maneater… pls say this is a publicity stunt.

-> user73: no cause this genuinely might be her ticking off her childhood crush list. which is real but idk if it’s good for her?

user6: is she fucking all the aging drivers? or is jenson the only one stupid enough to say yes?

user25: i support it. i met my husband when i was 21 and he was 37 and we have been together almost twenty years this may. not all age gap relationships are inherently bad.

-> user4: you’re a victim 😕

user12: y’all are gross. any of us would jump at a chance to date our celeb crush. jenson is hot and y/n is a consenting adult. she’s not a child anymore. she didn’t even know him as a child. bffr.

————————————————————————

liked by bestie2, georgerussell63 and 3,828,782 others.

yourusername: what do you do when you haven’t seen your besties for ages? do a photoshoot in the middle of the street. how did you spend your weekend?

view all comments

bestie1: we look so good!!! it was soo good to catch up babe. we missed u!!!

-> bestie2: we’ve all been so busy it’s insane how we’ve not been able to see each other more. i was going insane without my girls!!!

user1: is she not even gonna address it?!

-> user6: big ass elephant in the room.

user4: we knew how you spent your weekend ms l/n.

landonorris: am i not your bestie? why wasn’t i included?

-> georgerussell63: or me?!

-> alex_albon: or me? 🤨

-> logansargeant: or me?? 😕

-> oscarpiastri: i get why i wasn’t included tbf.

user10: u think posting pretty girls will make us forget ur weekend escapades? … maybe. keep posting.

user2: can you guys not make everything about a man? who cares if she’s dating jenson? what does that have to do with her ability to do her job or advocate for causes?! i feel sorry for her because you guys clearly dislike her for stupid reasons and are twisting this into a way to jump her ‘ethically’ which doesn’t even make sense. the only problematic thing she’s done is date a man older than her. grow up, my god.

*liked by landonorris, bestie1, bestie2, georgerussell63, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, logansargeant and 45,728 others. *

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liked by charles_leclerc, bestie1 and 1,092,728 others.

yourusername: italy, i love you ♥︎

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user3: get you a man that flies u out whenever ur sad.

-> user7: why are we not assuming she flew HIM out?

-> bestie2: he definitely flew her out. lmao.

user89: feels like a disaster waiting to happen lol.

-> logansargeant: not every relationship is like your parents. get therapy instead of projecting onto strangers.

user6: still a whore. i can’t stand this bitch.

-> oscarpiastri: stay mad! she’s young, successful and has many people who love and support her while you’re cursed to just scroll through her posts and seethe in your head. this one sided beef is crazy 🤣🤣!

user9: they’re cute!! idk how i’m the only one who thinks this.

user67: she’s still ugly.

-> alex_albon: looked at your pictures mate and cheers, my nan just vomited.

user12: when he leaves her >>>>

-> georgerussell63: 6.220.183.12

-> user3: NOT THE IP ADDRESS HELP?2&/&

user8: jenson. call me when you need a real woman.

-> bestie1: where is the real woman you speak of? she’s definitely NOT you.

user21: honestly? i just can’t get on board with this ship.

-> landonorris: you can’t even afford a ticket 🤣 delete this.

user10: i’m not saying shit cause why the y/n defense squad dragging people in the comments 😭

liked by oscar.priv, alex.priv and 21 others.

maneater.priv: NEED HIM CARNALLY <3

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bestie1priv: thank god he doesn’t know about ur priv account. i think he’d combust.

-> maneater.priv: nah he giggles. he thinks its funny.

oscar.priv: everyone on a campaign to save you from jenson when they should be saving jenson from YOU!

bestie2priv: LOVE U BOTH <333 cutest couple!

lando.priv: dare you to post this on ur main 😏🤣😁😝

-> george.priv: 43.0.109.12

-> lando.priv: MAN COME ON 😭

don’t want to miss out on my next post? join my taglist! if you enjoyed this, check out my masterlist or buy me a coffee! no pressure ! <3

[dadsbongos]

then, and again, and once more

6.9k words

Summary - Yuuji tries to impress you and win your heart, with the help of Sukuna… who seems weirdly knowledgeable about and interested in you.

Warnings - p in v sex, FULL NELSON BABY!!!, yuuji eats pussy :), oh yeah fem reader btw, sukuna is here too (and his cannibalism is mentioned), idiot friends pining for each other, very vague timeline idk but yuuji is aged up

sukuna-centric part 2

There it is again.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

That unbearable thick bass in his chest, banging so tirelessly against his ribs that it threatens to make him nauseous. A quick inhale and yep - scratch that - he’s definitely already nauseous.

Yuuji sinks his sweaty palms deeper into his pants pockets, eyes darting sharply down to his beaten sneakers. The once vibrant ruby shade is now marred by dirt and aging threads - and if he turns his right foot just so, then he can see an old, blackened stain from pizza sauce he spilled while eating out with you. The memory, or more specifically how you’re giggling in his memory, makes him smile.

And in the real world, Megumi is watching his friend grin ear to ear while looking at a black, crusty splotch on the inside curve of his right shoe. After having just wide-eyed stared at you from across the room while you and Nobara heatedly debate where to go for dinner.

He glares at Yuuji, lashes narrowing, “You look insane. Knock it off.”

That snaps the boy from his reminiscing, and it takes him three long seconds before he registers the insult, “I was thinking!”

“Obviously,” Megumi scratches the side of his nose, more to just have something to do with his hands than anything else, “What were you thinking about?”

Humming quietly to himself, Yuuji shrugs, “Oh, the usual.”

“You’re hopeless,” Megumi maintains his efforts to keep his hands busy by scratching the back of his head, “Just tell her already. What’s the worst that happens?”

“She rejects me and avoids me,” Yuuji pouts, “Honestly, ‘gumi, I would’ve thought you’d be more sympathetic - being a standoffish and awkward guy yourself.”

Swatting at his friend’s shoulder, Megumi shakes his head, “The hell is wrong with you? Was that just sitting in your mind?” he shakes his head again, glare growing stronger, “And don’t call me that.”

“I thought you had anxiety or something,” Yuuji shrugs, “Why else would you be so weird in public?”

Any previous concern regarding Yuuji’s well-being immediately flies from Megumi at that. He folds his arms across his chest with murmurs of hatred floating out from his lips. All as he waltzes over to where you and Nobara are seated around your laptop at the chipping hardwood table.

Yuuji has no problem shrugging off Megumi's irritation, but when it comes to the mere idea of your face stretching in disgust at him - God, isn’t that the worst?

“You’re the worst, brat,” comes that rumbling, terrible voice in the back of his head. The nagging used to sound more like him - and when he’s really stressed, it still sometimes does - but now his own voice has faded into the King of Curses’. Now his own voice is sweeter, more prone to praise and positives - in a weird way, Sukuna has made Yuuji better.

But in a lot more ways -

“Oi, don’t ignore me.”

He’s made Yuuji’s life so much worse.

“You like that one, right? I can help.”

You’re sitting back, allowing Megumi to take the reins on shooting down Nobara’s suggestion for sushi. Normally, that demand isn’t a problem, but this would be the fifth night in a row she’s tried roping you all into ordering sushi for her. You lean into Megumi a little, and Yuuji hates the way his chest tightens at the display.

It isn’t even affection. It’s just…

“You want to be the one she’s on, right?”

Yuuji sighs to himself and sneaks out of the kitchen, though it’s hardly a challenge when Nobara raises her voice to defend her long-lasting cravings.

With tense shoulders and a red face, Yuuji glances down each side of the hall to ensure nobody is nearby, “How could you help with this?”

Sukuna’s eye on Yuuji’s cheek has flitted up to stare into Yuuji’s, and that sickly crawl of his skin stretching to accommodate Sukuna’s wide grin makes his stomach turn, “You’re just a child, you don’t know anything about women.”

Yuuji could double over, hands on his knees and breathless in sputters of laughter, but he refrains - unwilling to let anyone hear his schizophrenic ramblings, “And you do?”

Sukuna’s eye rolls and Yuuji hates the way it feels under his cheekbone, nearly retching in response, “Of course.”

And that strings up some different terrible question in Yuuji, “But why would you help me?”

Sukuna has been so unwilling to do anything useful for Yuuji despite the fact he’s allowed to reside in this body - so what could possibly possess him to do this now?

“Do you want my help or not, worm?”

Yuuji sighs through his nose, eyes fluttering shut, thinking hard about the offer. He’d come to the conclusion not too long after swallowing his first finger to simply not question many of Sukuna’s motives, mostly since his goals are: chaos, women, and chaos.

“This better not be some gross pass at my friend,” Yuuji sneers, body electrified on the ready to smack down his own cheek should he hear an answer he doesn’t like.

Sukuna is too quiet for too long, and Yuuji is fully prepared to swipe at the parasite on his face when finally, that deep voice rattles again. It buzzes in his flesh, uncomfortable and itchy and so quiet he barely hears what the curse mumbles into him.

The boy pauses and lets the words melt on his tongue, he turns them between his molars and laves the roof of his mouth with the remaining implications. He wasn’t expecting Sukuna to be honest, not to that degree at least.

And Yuuji smacks Sukuna’s bulbous eye down anyway.

“Fine then,” Yuuji pulls his hand down and curls his fingers into a fist, another great big awful ragged sigh roughing over his tongue like barbed wire, “I’ll listen to you, but if you ruin this for me- “

“Calm down, brat,” the mouth pops back up stubbornly, bitterly spitting out his version of a promise, “I don’t plan on failing.”

Yuuji pushes himself off the wall and spins back into the kitchen unnoticed, hands locking behind his head as he saddles up beside you at the table, “So, what’s for dinner?”

He snorts at how you groan, looking up at him from your seat with tired, low-lidded eyes and gesturing across the table to where Megumi and Nobara are still arguing, “You tell me.”

“Why don’t we just go out?” Yuuji shrugs, grinning broadly despite the way his two friends both twitch their necks over to glare at him, “Come on, it’s not even dark! We can walk around and do a little looking; get some air!”

Nobara’s pitched shoulders drop, pinched expression falling into her usual lax, she looks over at Megumi again with a raised brow. Megumi shrugs, his own eyebrows still scrunched together, “If it’s fine with you two, I don’t care.”

You snicker, standing up against the stiff wood supports of the chair legs, one elbow digging into the table to further help hold you up while your spare fingers dance up to smooth out the crinkled space, “I think it’ll be fun.”

Megumi snatches you by the wrist and tosses your hand to the side while Nobara hops down from her own chair, stretching out her back until it pops obnoxiously. She’s already bouncing out of the kitchen to snag her shoes before shouting back, “Well, come on! We’re on a timer now, people!”

“Jeez,” you slip off the chair pegs, bumping slightly into Yuuji’s side - entirely oblivious to the sparkly fireworks you sweep across your poor friend’s body at the contact, “Should’ve just suggested that from the start, huh?”

Shrugging, Yuuji waits for you to begin walking out of the kitchen before following, “Sometimes you just need fresh eyes on a situation, you know?”

“I guess,” you fold your arms, evidently frustrated, “Just feel like that was something I should’ve seen.”

Yuuji feels that disgusting, familiar thumping in his chest just by looking at you now. Heat radiating from his cheeks to the expanse of his chest, throat swelling with the uncomfortable need to spill his guts - dump every little thought and feeling he’s ever had for you into your ears until you force him to shut up. Like how he can’t even look at Jennifer Lawrence the way he used to simply because she isn’t you.

Maybe then he’d tell you that this hasn’t happened in the six years since he first saw Silver Linings Playbook. Maybe you’d tell him to stop talking, and that you two would never happen.

Maybe then he can move on, when you crush his hope. But he doesn’t really want that.

And he doesn’t really know why he agreed to let Sukuna lend him any advice.

Oh well.

It’s when you’re rushing out the door to keep up with Megumi and Nobara that Sukuna opens his mouth for the first time.

His voice stabs into Yuuji’s ears, but it isn’t exceptionally as cruel as he usually finds it, this, instead, is purely instructional, “When you two are out tonight, tell her about that cat you saw around the garden today.”

Yuuji scratches through his messily filed memories, “I saw a cat?”

“Yes, twit, a black one. Tell her about how its fur changed color in the sun.”

“Okay…?” Yuuji huffs in his daze, finally putting effort into walking alongside you and the others, “Hey! So, I just remembered something.”

“Oh yeah?” you smile at Yuuji, purely encouraging, and he’s disgusted at the way he almost trips over his own feet.

Nobara and Megumi pay the both of you little mind, instead pointing out different potential favorite hotspots they could creep into for the night. Well, Nobara points out, they could even stop at two places if they’re feeling adventurous. And Megumi says they can do whatever the rest of you think is best.

But Yuuji isn’t listening, and you’re hardly lending an ear, he swallows down the rock in his throat and nods, “I saw a cat this morning - a black one! - and it made me think of you,” the gentle warmth spreading through him could either be the way you’re lighting up at him, or Sukuna silently congratulating his good line, “Its fur was all brownish red in the sun, it was…” your eyes are so starry and sweet, solely on him - it makes his tongue tie up in knots, “It was beautiful.”

“Bummer I wasn’t there, then,” you pout a little, “You need to get me for things like that!” he laughs at the way your face has morphed, all stern and strict business, “Seriously!”

“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, both hands up in playful defense, “I promise to call you if I see another cat.”

“Could’ve at least taken a picture for me,” you histrionically sigh, “And I thought we were friends.”

A sudden thought invades the back of Yuuji’s mind. Some hidden, more primal part of his mind that he doesn’t usually listen to flashes back to a time he doesn’t remember.

We used to be more.

You and him are sitting out in the sun with a fluffy little Bombay cat tucked into your lap. It paws at the buttery dandelions that bloom between you both, his own legs are sprawled out impolitely and your own are crossed to wall around the feline in your hold. His knee knocks against yours whenever he shifts his leg. You lean in, shoulder digging into the meat of his muscled arm and temple resting on his shoulder.

Your body is entirely at ease. His is, too.

Yuuji knows exactly where the thought comes from. And if that dark, creepy place weren’t so infested by evil then maybe he’d feel a little pity for it. But you’re in front of him now, and you’re excited to be here, and your pinky keeps knocking into his as you two walk side-by-side - so there’s no room for pity in his heart.

Your quartet winds up squished into a teal leather booth towards a back corner of Nobara’s selected diner. You and Nobara sit on the interior seats, pressed into the windows, with Yuuji and Megumi caging the both of you in. Megumi having shoved Yuuji down next to you before the boy could even see who was where.

“What were you thinking?” Nobara sits up, jabbing your arm with a manicured finger just to annoy you.

Flicking at her hand, you shrug, focusing on the boards plastered behind the front bar counter for any eye-catching special offers.

Yuuji can feel the tightening of his cheek skin as the eyeball threatens to pop out, it stings when his cheek is forced to split for Sukuna’s eye. His cheek below that parts as well for his lips.

And Sukuna is kind enough this once to be quiet, “Tell her to get the wildfowl bowl,” as if sensing his arising questions, Sukuna continues, “And tell the kitchen worms to make sure the vegetables are soft. Not well, not sturdy,” he sounds disgusted as he says it, “Soft.”

“Hey,” and against everything he’s been told by Gojo, Yuuji puts his entire trust into the curse inside him, “that wildfowl bowl looks good, right?”

You lean closer to Yuuji, arm brushing his as you try to see where he spotted that, “What’s in it? Duck?”

He gives a conformational hum even though he has no idea, “Probably good with soft vegetables.”

Megumi shakes his head, “What does that even mean?”

“When they steam the veggies for longer than usual,” you pat Yuuji’s shoulder while defending him, “I get what you mean, Itadori. Sorry Fushiguro is so judgemental.”

“I was just saying…” Megumi’s voice flutters out of Yuuji’s focus.

Instead, another memory he never made begins to flourish from that black, mushy, rotted back of his brain.

You’re sat in his lap, large thighs perfectly bracketing around your own. A neglected bowl of slim slivers of perfectly browned duck meat sits atop cooling rice, carrots, and green beans. No doubt soft and easy to chew. In your hands is a steaming bowl, larger than the one in your lap, weighed down by thick cuts of juicy meat slabs. Almost like steak, but there’s no outer hide tanned by flame. It’s red, almost raw, and even after trimming the fat - it’s still bathed in pink, fleshy trails.

Grinning so lovingly, you pinch the slabs with your bare fingers and merely giggle when Sukuna’s sharp teeth prick at your skin. His long tongue works to clean your fingers of the excess meat juices as he eats. Two of his hands are on your hips, holding you steady, a third is steadied beside him against the cold bone of his throne, and a fourth resides at the back of your head. Almost big enough to palm the whole of your skull like a children’s ball - he pats and pets and smooths his fingers over the slope of the back of your neck.

Preening under gentle attention, you’re sure to empty Sukuna’s bowl before picking your own back up.

People watch with blood at their feet, none dare to move. Fearful to become the next hot meal in your hand should they disobey Sukuna’s silent command.

As your hands wrap around your cold bowl, a deep grunt reverberates behind you in Sukuna’s broad chest. He tugs the dish from your grasp; plucks the duck meat between his forefinger and thumb and holds it above your nose, forcing you to look up.

He waves it in front of your face, “Open,” and you follow his order, lips parting yet still pitched up in the impression of a pleased smile. And when he flattens the meat to your tongue and you begin chewing - you’re still smiling. That earns another fond stroke down the back of your head, pausing at your shoulder and digging his thumb into the muscle just to hear you sigh, “Good girl.”

Yuuji doesn’t see all of that. He can grasp some vague sense that you two have shared meals he’ll never get to taste, but he never sees the gristle left behind on your fingers or the saliva webbed between your fingers after feeding Sukuna.

That - Sukuna ‘hmph's proudly as he watches you beam at Yuuji over your modern interpretation of your favorite meal - the King of Curses keeps to himself. Selfishly, just as he always has.

That next morning, you sheepishly prattle into the dusty, creaky classroom with only four rusty, barely used desks and slip into the one by Yuuji. You’re toying with the tips of your hair, eyes bouncing from where Yuuji sits on the desktop beside you and the classroom door.

Nobara sits backward at the desk directly in front of you, arms coiled around the back support of her chair as she speaks and Megumi sits normally beside her - attention solely on his book. Yuuji watches you fiddle with the ends of your hair while pretending to listen to Nobara.

And then he sees it. The new cherry shade decorating your lips, and before Sukuna can sprout and tell him to - Yuuji’s leaning down with his best smile, “New lipstick?”

Jumping at the sudden voice, your rigid posture melts under the boy’s gaze, “Yes, actually. You like?”

It could be puke green and Yuuji would still want it smeared across his face from your kisses.

But despite housing Sukuna Ryomen and battling dreadful curses, Yuuji fails to muster the courage to say that to your face, “Yeah! It’s really pretty.”

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

There goes your annoying heart, hammering just from the sound of Yuuji’s overtly positive lilt. It makes your cheeks burn and fingers skittishly tip-tap against the pencil-scratched desk, “You think so?”

But he’d never lie, you know that.

So even though it shouldn’t be a surprise when he doubles down, your annoying heart won’t stop dramatically tossing itself around when Yuuji nods with a determined, boyish grin, “Definitely.”

It’s all so saccharine and perfect, it makes Sukuna nauseous. Which, in turn, makes Yuuji nauseous.

Face paling, Yuuji jumps onto his feet and excuses himself, rushing out of the room (with no Gojo even in sight, by the way) towards the bathroom.

“Is he okay?” Nobara murmurs, stretching her neck to see outside the door frame, “What a weirdo.”

“Yeah,” you sigh dreamily, “He is sometimes, huh?”

Megumi gags at your tone, “Seriously…?”

“What was that?” Yuuji’s question is spikey and venomous while he stares into the cracked, water-spotted mirror - straight at the little eyeball on his cheek.

“You two are disgusting,” Sukuna stares back into the glass, low-lidded and unimpressed, “Get this over with and ask her out, brat.”

“But what if she says no?” Yuuji reaches up and toys with the little pink hairs at the back of his head, eyes suddenly unable to meet Sukuna at all, “It’ll totally ruin everything.”

“Enough whining. She won’t say no.”

He doesn’t know how it took so long to recognize, or maybe he just needed an excuse to display his old, unbroken knowledge of you before your fleshly little weakling friends even knew it. But he’s seen the little bursts of color and stars and sparkles and all that cute mess before.

He’s seen it many times. It was the only way you used to look at Sukuna.

That puppyish, lovesick wonder as you fluttered your pretty eyelashes at him.

Even when he would return to you in blood and sweat and muck and smelling of the death and despair he expertly wrought.

You were always at least five paces ahead of Uraume, hands bunching up in the pretty flowing silks that decorated your body. Excitedly, you’d pounce and he would hold you. Sapping up your energy and feeding off the way you’d press cherry-tasting kisses all along his hardened face. You served yourself up to him on a silver platter, all your heart and soul and mind devoted entirely and without ulterior motives. That’s why you were always his favorite.

Nothing before or after you was ever up to par. And he felt disgruntled at every turn into different worshippers and concubines and lovers - somehow wronged simply by the fact they were not as you were. It was all so disappointing.

And every now and again he’d flash back to you while with others. He imagines it’s how children feel when they remember a lost or broken or tossed-out favorite toy. That ache of times lost and never feeling quite fulfilled again.

Which is why when he saw you again through this brat’s eyes, he could instantly remember those nights with you. Full-bellied and raw-lipped and your pulse between his teeth.

But Yuuji knows nothing of that, and so when he returns to the classroom - neither of you says anything.

It’s only the two of you. Everyone else was cast out in the violent, unwilling acceptance that they had done all they could. With no open wound, there was a horrific list rattled off in Sukuna’s ears. Illnesses and infections that attacked the lungs and nervous system and skin and heart - things that would eat you alive from the inside. And when all could be done about that, you remained in bed.

In and out of consciousness and delusional, proclaiming twisted lights and shadowy creatures trying to rip you from yourself.

Perhaps, one of the women called to care for you shyly spoke up, perhaps she’s just too old.

And that was something he avoided admitting to himself.

But it was time now.

With dew still moist on the blades of grass and morning sunlight streaming through the window beside your bed - the bell tolls. Your fingers are stiff in the sheets, limbs cold and stiff when you’re found. Wide, puppylike eyes gaze up at the ceiling and Sukuna has you buried beneath the tallest, most twisted tree he could find in the surrounding forest. And when Sukuna returns from your grave that night - alone - he crosses into a dark tunnel.

It’s cold and solid beneath his feet, paces echoing back for his ears. He keeps his eyes down to avoid maddening himself over the plainness - the displeasure of even glimpsing this tunnel’s repetitive nature.

Until there’s light, golden, with the shrouded, clumsy shape of twisted branches and lanky trunks coming into view at the far open end.

And faintly, like the sweet singing of a beloved music box, he hears the tune of your voice. A high scoop towards the end.

“Itadori, right?”

Sukuna’s feet move faster before he even fully knows he’s moving.

On the other side is you, a hand jammed out in front of you in a polite wave - as if the both of you are strangers. Then that name creeps back up his spine.

Well, it’s not truly his spine, is it? It’s this new brat’s.

But then there’s your honeyed voice again, “Huh, third eye.”

Right. You wouldn’t remember it, would you?

You wouldn’t remember any of it.

Yuuji shoots up, dark sheets tangled around his ankles and cold sweat beading down his forehead - strings of pink hair matted down to his skin uncomfortably. His wide eyes scramble across the shadows of his room, slowly refamiliarizing himself with the expanse and soothing his pounding heart.

He smoothes back his hair, running through the small kinks and knots, “What the hell was that?”

That slicing pain along his cheek shocks him awake further, but no sore, deep voice follows. The eye sits there, downcast. Sitting inside this body is one of the last things he saw for himself, but to exist beside you again is liquid gold just flowing in a river. A river his new body refuses to swim in.

“She’s still awake.”

Yuuji looks over to the red numbers lighting up from his bedside alarm clock, “It’s midnight.”

Sukuna inhales sharply, irritation scorching a hole in his tongue, but he withholds the many sudden hateful thoughts he has towards Yuuji and simply repeats himself, “She’s still awake.”

“It’s weird how obsessed you are with this,” Yuuji swings his legs over the edge of his bed and slips his feet into the slippers you’d gifted him. They’re cheesy and themed after fire engines and just barely fit, but he wears them at any given opportunity.

The eye sinks back into his skin, lips sealing shut, and a thick sludge boils in Yuuji’s stomach. Quiet King of Curses is an unsettling King of Curses, and Yuuji barely finds himself able to tune out the exhaustive wave of Sukuna’s criticisms. That is much preferred to this buzzing silence.

Creeping down the moaning wooden panels to your room, Yuuji raps his knuckles against your door before immediately shuffling his fists into his gray sweatpants.

Something clatters against hardwood, sheets ruffle, and your footsteps thump, thump, thump up to your bedroom door. Your face peeks out from the sliver of cracked doorway, and there’s no hint of sleep in your gaze. You seem alert, if a little lazily slouched against your doorframe.

“Itadori?”

Oh, right. He was here to say something, wasn’t he?

But he can’t possibly find the strength in his tongue, not when you look at him like that.

With some impossible adoration, like you simply can’t wait to hear whatever stupid bullshit he’s about to spout. He feels so unworthy of it all, and he can’t wait to find out more about you and mold himself to it. To become someone you can’t imagine waking up without. To study and be studied, he’s ready to throw himself into the horrors of being known - if it’s you he’s known by.

The air is punched out of him as he speaks, “Can…” you nod him along, opening your door wider, “Can I kiss you?”

Now that he’s so close to the sugary river, he can’t wait to dive in.

“Seriously?” you laugh in shock at the outburst, but when his face persists, you fling the door open entirely, “Seriously?”

Yuuji winds his hands tighter, to stop himself from desperately clawing his way down your throat, “I like you. I’ve liked you…” he’s unnatural like this, red in the face and dodging your stare, “I don’t even know.”

But you do, you felt it when you first saw him. However, you’re not plagued by the chains of past lives, so the implications are lost. Winding your arms behind your back and grinning at Yuuji with toothy glee, “Me too.”

His eyes nail you with that doughy, desperate plea for attention - the need to be seen as himself. And you’ve always been glad to lend it over in plentiful bounties.

That buzz of silence stabs the both of you.

Until Yuuji can no longer tether himself to his pockets, his big hands gentle as he cups both your cheeks. He molds himself to you, hoping that those troublesome flashes of times he never lived will at least serve his muscle memory now.

Your hands twist into the front of Yuuji’s shirt, nails biting into the black, soft, loose fabric and tugging him closer. Yuuji’s lips are slightly chapped, and you can feel the imprints from where he’s bitten them raw. He hisses when you peek your tongue at the smooth spots.

Wrenching your hands back, you quickly run them under and up his sleep shirt - his skin is warm and he gasps against your lips when your fingertips skim along his sides.

Yuuji pulls back, cheeks flaming, and shoulders his way past your bedroom door, kicking it shut behind him and placing his hands over his shirt - finding yours through the material. He grins, chuckling at how you grope his muscle, squeezing around your hands, “Enjoying yourself?”

“Whatever,” you huff, embarrassed, then ripping your hands out from under his shirt and twisting your fingers between his before - just to prove a point - planting his palms below your own shirt, “You try being normal like this.”

Yuuji’s broad palms are still only burning into the soft flesh of your stomach, but his heart is terribly out of whack.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

“You can go higher,” your voice lilts higher, a mere soft whisper as if anything louder could entirely break the poor boy’s brain, “If you want…”

Of course, he does. He’d trade a thousand years with that Sisyphus guy Megumi mentioned to him just for twelve seconds of his hands sizzling up your body. Maybe even just for the chance.

His hands scope higher, palms glued to the planes of your body like he’s trying to scar himself along your skin. The sudden need to leave some lasting impression that he was there - here with you.

Yuuji does his best not to jump when Sukuna’s voice slithers into his ear, polite enough to whisper so he doesn’t alarm you, “Get her on her back. Tongue her cunt.”

You look at him all sweet and concerned when Yuuji’s nose scrunches, “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

But he has no idea how to tell you that Sukuna’s words make his stomach churn, and by the time he even tries to form the words he’s thinking about it. Imagining himself on his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands tangled in his hair, and eagerly trying to annoy your friends as much as possible with how loud he can make you. And he feels so, so lightheaded at that.

Yuuji’s eyes are wide, staring into yours with such fire that it almost makes you shy away, “Can I eat you out?”

But you brave his dissecting gaze, heart pounding in your ears.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

And, oh, Yuuji could just about die happy right now.

On his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands screwed into the twirls of his tousled hair and (hopefully) annoying at least a nosy Nobara should she be listening to your soft moans next door.

Yuuji wiggles his tongue into your weeping hole, nestling his nose against your clit with a wheezy little whine. His eyes flutter up at you through the gaps between your shaking arms.

“Get your hands in there,” Sukuna’s voice is muffled against the thickness of your thigh, “Thumb her clit, don’t rely on your nose.”

Crinkling his brows, Yuuji has to bite back his remarks about how Sukuna could’ve told him that sooner. Snaking his right hand over your leg, Yuuji flattens his large hand against your lower stomach and pins your bucking hips. His thumb taking residence on your swollen clit, the bridge of his nose still saddled beneath it.

Your back arches, hips grinding down into Yuuji’s thumb and tongue. He’s messy with it - head shaking just to tease and feel the wetness of your pussy slip and slather across his chin. He tongue-fucks you in earnest, practically moaning into you as he grinds against the mattress. Swishing his thumb against your clit faster when he can feel you tighten around him, chasing the feeling of you cumming all over his face.

He can hear it despite his desperation - the way your breath hitches and throat cinches out a squeal. Your thighs squish around his head and Yuuji has to force his hips still lest he be submitted to the horrors of cumming in his pants.

And it isn’t even the fear of your reaction - no, he knows better than to think you’re capable of making him feel shame. It’s just-

“Yes,” Sukuna’s voice is husky, tongue lolling out along Yuuji’s cheek to lather up your juice, “Yes!”

Yuuji knows exactly who will be making fun of him instead. He smacks at the unwanted presence and takes it as pure luck when Sukuna actually stays down.

He works his tongue out of you slowly, letting you whine and huff the way off your high naturally before peeking up at you. He’s grinning, eyes wide and hands retreating to dig hungrily into the meat of your thighs.

“Hey, I wanna try something,” Yuuji’s shamelessness in licking at his soaked lips makes heat flush all the way to your forehead, “Just let me know if it’s too much, okay?”

You nod sheepishly, body jittery with the little bugs crawling beneath your sweltering skin. Yuuji bends to the sudden thought he’s sure has something to do with the curse inside him with a mysterious catalog on all things you.

Yuuji slips onto his back beside you, curled against the cold wall corning your bed with his feet flat against the mattress and legs bent. He uses the unnatural well of strength he’s harbored since birth to squeeze at the fat of your sides and lift you atop of him. He can feel the warmth of your cunt on his pelvis and it wracks him with a shiver, you whine helplessly when his right hand immediately welds to your slit. His index and ring fingers part your lips so his middle can swipe coyly over your clit.

“Hah,” you watch his ring finger abandon its post to join the rude teasing, “Yuuji…”

“I know,” Yuuji sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes glued to where your wetness drips onto his skin, his hard cock peeking up between your legs, “I know, I’m sorry,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry. Especially when he’s continuing to tease you while pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Okay, serious now,” but he dips his fingers lower and prods at your hole, “Serious.”

You giggle, hot-faced, at his focused gaze, “Yuuji!”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he spreads your lips again just to stare from over your shoulder, voice hoars when he finally speaks up, “Alright. Serious now.”

Reaching between your legs, Yuuji grabs hold of his cock - hissing at the contact - and is internally grateful when you raise your hips to meet his head. He presses his forehead against your shoulder when his tip pushes inside you. You feel the hot puffs of air he sends against your back as you continue lowering yourself. He whimpers, the hand at his base flying across your abdomen and gripping your breast. He squeezes and pinches and tries suffocating the embarrassing little noises escaping his lips when you rock your hips down on his pelvis.

“Okay down there?” you twist your head to look back at Yuuji and you’re so glad you did.

He’s flushed down to his chest and his lashes are kissing his cheeks to keep himself together, when he finally opens his eyes fully and looks up at you. His bottom lip is red and puffy from how hard he’d been biting it, “Now I’m gonna do something new.”

This wasn’t new?

Yuuji’s arms stretch under the backs of your knees and come over your shoulders before winding behind your neck, pressing his palms flat against the back of your head. Your arms dangle uselessly at your sides, hands stretching out to graze his ribs and legs bouncing limply as he manhandles you.

His cock bullies itself in your cunt, hips jerking up into the fat of your ass.

Yuuji tries to suffocate down his groans in favor of your sweet moans being punched up from your gut every time he sweeps deep inside you. His lips press tightly just as your own pop open for adorable “ah, ah ah!”s - fighting to maintain his pace despite how badly he wants to pin you to his body and wallow through the wetness sucking him back in for every thrust. Feel your sweaty skin slide and stick against his and whine at the pulling sensation when you peel apart.

Another sudden idea pops into his brain and it’s almost instinctual how he follows it. Besides, it isn’t like he’s going to complain about being brain-blasted with memories that aren’t his if it means not having to hear Sukuna’s voice while fucking you.

Hips never falter in their snaps up into you, Yuuji cranes his neck to teeth at the meat of your nape. He bites possessively and grunts in response to your immediate pitchy moan. Then licking over the marks apologetically.

You try to smother down your breathless moans as Yuuji bullies his cock repeatedly into that spongy spot shooting stars behind your eyes. With an angle and drive and care you’re sure would be lost on any man other than Yuuji - and you’re dumbly struck by the hope that maybe this hard work is only because he’s here with you. And that coherent thought is fucked out of you with Yuuji’s next whimpered request.

“Don’t do that,” he gasps when you tighten around him after a particularly rough thrust, “Please don’t keep it down- wanna…” he moans and the sound flutters straight to your tightening gut, “Wanna hear you so bad, pretty girl.”

Unlatching your teeth from the plush of your bottom lip, flames lap through the wiry twists of your veins - burning through the stretch of your skin and scarring Yuuji. And he eats it up and greedily begs at your feet for more. It shames Sukuna just as much as it excites him to taste the salt on your skin through his vessel’s tongue and watch the way your legs shake and bounce under his vessel’s iron hold. His favorite way to have you and your favorite way to take him.

Yuuji unwinds one of his arms from behind your neck, lowering half your body slightly to swipe his fingers between the junction of your thighs. Right over the slippery spot where you’re creaming on his cock and taking the soaked fingers to your clit. His canines and soft lips battle for a monopoly of your neck and shoulder, swiftly circling your clit with his middle and ring fingers as his hips continue fucking you stubbornly.

“Hng, Yuu…!” you gasp, head throwing back and narrowly missing his - the coil winding tighter and tighter and your walls milking Yuuji tighter and tighter, “Yuuji!”

“I know, baby,” he kisses up your bent neck and presses his flaming cheek against yours, “God, please, cum for me. Cum for me,” his hips stutter, and his breath hitches and oh, he’s so close, “I wanna feel you cum on me, baby- I need it. Need it so bad.”

“Oh, Yuuji,” you dig your face closer to his as if trying to meld yourselves into one body, “‘m cumming,” you clench and he’s damn near wheezing, the knot in his lower belly popping as he feels you cum and drips down his balls, “‘m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming…!”

And just to avoid embarrassing himself from admitting he’s in love with you while spitting his own cum in your warm, wet walls, Yuuji strangles down his own final cries with a coppery, abusive bite to his bottom lip.

It starts to hurt, how he overstimulates himself through his slowing thrusts - letting you slip down onto his thrumming, sticky chest. Your legs sprawled across his sides, Yuuji slipping his softening cock from your hole.

You lazily roll off of Yuuji, landing face-first into your sheets at his side.

Yuuji can hear it again, that terrible, grating voice telling him, “Clean her, brat.”

And what’s the most terrible is he knows Sukuna’s command is entirely warranted. Flopping a hand onto your back, Yuuji traces heart shapes into the skin as he talks, “I’ll be right back.”

And when Yuuji’s wetting a soft, clean cloth he braved the hallway (nude) to retrieve from his room, he hears that voice again. It echoes in your bathroom.

“I want a turn when she’s awake,” a pause, “Fully awake.”

“Aren’t you charitable?” Yuuji rolls his eyes.

And that same utterance from hours before rings through Yuuji’s ears once again. Why Sukuna cared so much about petty crushes. Why Sukuna bothered himself by actually giving genuine, helpful points. Why Sukuna was fascinated by you.

“She was my most devoted and favorite lover in her past life.”

The way he says it inspires no respect for Yuuji - underlined in his thriving desire to be worshiped, as he imagines he deserves. Yuuji wouldn’t dare uphold you to that.

When he tenderly presses his thumbs into stiff muscles with a red flush and warm smile, Yuuji knows that for sure.

“Can I stay the night?” he whispers, folding his discarded towels and lazily tucking them by your bedpost on the floor. He feels that same hurried ache in his chest, awaiting for your impatience.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

You hum, lifting your head off the pillow and snickering, your drowsy face pinched to look at him like he’s stupid, “Duh.”

Giddy, Yuuji slips under the blankets he’d slid over you after cleaning the mess from between your thighs, and slots himself right next to you.

Rolling again, you twist into an open space against Yuuji’s chest and under his thick arm. Warmth drapes across your shoulders when he rests that arm over you. He circles his other arm around you and squeezes, grinning so hard he can feel it burning in the balls of his cheeks. Your ear rests against Yuuji’s chest, and you soothe yourself to slumber on the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Blissfully unaware of the fact that when your bones are rotten and six feet deep, two more people will be curled into each other’s arms. With your same starry eyes that some pink-haired kid falls in love with every time they’re on him.

[amomentsescape]

Slashers React to You Being Harassed

Warnings: Being verbally harassed by a gross man, some cuss words

A/N: A lot of you seemed to really like the last "Slashers React" fic I did, so I figured I'd write up another one. This came out a little cheesy, but oh well? Hope you enjoy!

Context: You were feeling a little cooped up recently due to being stuck inside from the flu. Now that you were feeling better, you wanted to go out and take some time away from home. But of course, you could never have more than a few minutes of peace. Some older man decides that you are the perfect one to pick on. He attempts to flirt with you, and even after saying "no" a handful of times, he still doesn't get the hint.

Michael Myers

You were honestly a little scared

Not for yourself, but for what was going to happen to the man

Even after weeks of insistence, Michael refused to let you go anywhere on your own

Even if he wasn't right next to you, he was lurking somewhere nearby

He was a blatant and proud stalker

So you knew that it wouldn't take long before-

Welp

The man is now dead with a slit throat

That was quick

"You could have stepped in sooner, you know?"

He just grips onto your hand and drags you back home

"But I've only been outside for five minutes!" you protest

He forces you to stay inside for another couple of weeks

Jason Voorhees

This disgusting man was now attempting to reach out and touch you

You took a step back and tried to put some space between you two

But in the blink of an eye, a large machete burst through his chest at you, your clothes getting splattered with blood

You scream

The now dead man drops to the ground as your eyes meet his killer

"Jesus, Jason! A bit of a warning next time, please."

He just tilts his head at you

You start grumbling about how your clothes were basically ruined now

Jason just picks you up and swings you over his shoulder

"This was my favorite shirt," you continue groaning

He gifts you with a small pocket knife the next day to take with you when you go out

Brahms Heelshire

You promised Brahms you wouldn't step too far off the Heelshire property line

So the fact that anyone was even over here seemed odd to you

And now here you were, wishing Brahms wasn't so weird about leaving the house

Because unfortunately, this man didn't seem like he was going to go away without a fight

So you did the only thing you could think of in that moment

You screamed

It lasted a few seconds

But the man didn't seem fazed

"There's no one else out here, Sweetheart," he said

"Hmm?" a voice spoke behind him

The man spun around and was immediately thrown to the ground

Brahms bashed his head in repeatedly with a rock

"Thank you-" you started

Brahms just grabbed you by the arm and drug you back inside the house

He didn't let you go outside for a while after that

Billy Loomis

You were about ready to punch this man yourself

But you didn't want to risk anything since you were alone

This man was good sized and you knew that trying to fight him probably wouldn't end well for you

But lo and behold, you wouldn't even have to lift a finger

A knife was quickly plunged into the man's throat causing him to bleed out in seconds

After a moment, you finally looked up and saw Billy in front of you

"Thank, God," you sighed, hugging the boy

It took you a second before you pulled away, looking at him in confusion

"Wait, how did you know I was out here?"

Billy avoided your gaze

"Were you stalking me?"

"I like to call it, observing"

You let out a groan

Stu Macher

You're crazy if you think Stu was going to let you outside by yourself

This boy is glued at your hip 24/7

The only reason why this other man was even flirting with you right now is because Stu went off to "take a whizz" as he likes to say

Thankfully, this doesn't normally take him long

So as this man continued to push his luck, Stu walked up next to you, his eyes a little dark

"Is there a problem here, babe?" he asked a little too nicely

How you answer this is definitely going to affect what Stu does next

But this man was pissing you off so...

"Yeah, he won't leave me alone"

And that's all it took for the man to end up dead on his side, a knife in his chest

Afterwards, Stu and you continued your little venture outside

He just held you a lot closer to him the whole time

Eric Draven

You were honestly getting freaked out by this man

In a city like this, anyone could be hurt

But your moment of panic soon died down to the sight of a black crow perching on the nearby building

"Thank you," you murmured

"What was that?" the man spat back

You couldn't help but smile a bit

"You're about to get your ass kicked"

He just laughed at you

Your smile grew when you saw a figure approach the man from behind

He noticed this and turned around, only to be met with the city's best vigilante

"Hi"

The man was suddenly struck with a metal pipe

And he continued to be struck another 17 times

Eric walked up to you after he was done, his painted face dripping with red

"You didn't have to kill him," you said

Eric just shrugged

"Oops?"