#one direction im not doing that just so i can play for a single day and then immediately have to go back the next day

[rapidhighway]

the horrible timing of the sxsg release date. I'm going to steal the PS5 from my house

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

hi hello!! i love both your mer aus theyre wonderful omg

could we mayhaps have more of gaz seeing through remora readers shit and being so over it? like (if i remember correctly) he likes annoying the real her out when he feels like shes sunken too deep into the brainless lil fishy thing, but what exactly does he do? now that im actually thinking abt it i lowkey just wanna see them sass each other lmao

-- monstie >:3

pspspsps mer Gaz enjoyers @thoseofmonsters @persephone-kore-law @cod-z

47 / 1.2k

...

You peek out of the water's surface next to Gaz. He's laid out on a smooth, flat rock, sunning. You'd think he's indulging himself, but he does this all the time.

"Gaz?" you pipe up. "Aren't you drying out?"

Gaz peels an eyelid open, squinting in the sunlight as he glances over to you. The motion is lazy in the heat of the day. "Nah."

You glance up at the gulls gliding by overhead. You don't trust them. "Well... aren't you hot?"

"S'pose. Not uncomfortable, though." Gaz closes his eyes again, basking leisurely. He pats the rock next to him, offering the open space. "Sit with me."

"No, thank you."

Gaz cracks a single eye open at that, frowning. "Why not?"

You clutch the edge of the rock with nervous hands and glance over your shoulder. "There are boats over there. Humans."

"So? You like humans.”

"When they're in the water," you mutter. You eye the boats in the distance. They're small, but they're not diving boats. "But not like that."

Gaz rolls onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow to look at you. He doesn't so much as glance in the direction you're looking. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you if that's what you're worried about."

"Don't they look at you funny? When they see you up here?"

"Maybe." He rolls onto his back again, stretches his arms overhead, arches his back, and lets out a content sigh. Then he laces his fingers behind his head. "Don’t care. I like being out here. They can ogle me as much as they want."

You notice the boats aren't coming too close, either. "They don't try to talk to you?"

"They do." The corners of Gaz’s eyes crinkle. "I ignore them. Most get the message pretty quick and steer clear.” He glances at you. “What's wrong? You're more skittish than usual.”

You grab his hand and tug it. "Come on, we need to go back to the reef now."

Gaz peers down at you over the ridge of his bicep. "Not quite yet." He closes his eyes again. "I’m comfy."

"Please?" You rummage around your brainthoughts trying to come up with a reason. "I need your help with something."

"With what something?"

"With something. And you're the only one who can do it."

"Yeah?"

"And it has to be now."

He smirks at your pitiful efforts to budge him. Your persistence is cute. "And what is this it that I have to do right this instant?"

"It's... taking me to the cliffs where the seabirds nest."

"You know how to get there."

"But Ghost will get mad if I go alone.”

"Then say I took you. He's asleep. He won't know."

You huff. "Gaz, that's lying."

Gaz rolls onto his side again to look down at you. "Oh, tsk, tsk. Poor little thing. Always so honest and forthcoming yourself, aren’t you?"

Heat pinches the hollow of your throat. He's shaming you.

Gaz leans in, his voice low and lazy. "Tell me something, darling. Do you pretend your head is empty because you can’t help yourself, or because you’re afraid not to?"

You sink down into the water until only your eyes peek out. Heat licks all the way down your chest, radiating against the cold water. "You're being mean."

"Am I?" he croons, his lips curled smug. "I don’t like it when you play dumb. Makes me want to be mean."

If you were a bolder creature, you'd call him a brute.

He reaches out and gives your ear a fond flick.  "S’cute when you pout."

"So you're not coming with me?" you mumble.

"Mm, I didn't say that." Gaz glances up at the sky as he pretends to consider your wants. The corners of his mouth tug up into that dimpled smile of his that never quite disappears. "I'll take you there if you lay with me."

You grasp the edge of the rock again, pulling yourself closer again in relief. "You will? By the cliffs?"

"No." He pats his sunning rock again. "Here."

You look down at the salty, ocean-smoothed stone. "But people will see."

"Don’t care." He pats again, more firmly this time. "Come up. Get warm. You're worrying so much it’s wearing me out just watching you.”

You glance over your shoulder again. It's not like you haven't laid out in the sun before. You like to snooze in the sun as much as any mer. But it always seems to attract attention. Human attention. You're not scary-looking to them like Gaz is. You're more like a novelty. A bauble. Something from old sailing stories.

Humans get way too close to you if you give them the opportunity.

Gaz watches you. “You really think I’d let anyone lay a hand on you?”

"No, but..."

Gaz reaches out and gently grips your face, turning you to look at him again. “Now," he says calmly.

You nod at the command. "Okay. Now. Yes." For Gaz. Your fingers flutter over the edge of the rock as you look for a place to pull yourself up. You try to tune out the ambient human noise behind you.

Gaz helps you pull yourself up out of the water, depositing you on the sun-warmed rock next to him. You end up on your side, mirroring him chest-to-chest.

You stare at his collarbone. "Hi."

He slides a warm, rough-skinned palm up under your jaw to tilt your chin. “Hi yourself.”

His sharkshin feels strange when it’s dry. Not bad, but... strange. Still smooth, but grainy with salt. And it's cold up here. Even in the sun, the breeze makes you shiver and duck into Gaz's chest. You still feel so exposed with your bare back to the busy shallows.

“Relax. Fussy thing.” Price’s words. Gaz pulls you against him, one arm curled over you. Then he stretches out on his back, bringing you with him to sprawl over his chest. He drapes his hand over the fin that trails down the base of your spine, rubbing his thumb over the arch of your lower back.

"Better?" he asks, his voice barely above a rumble against your ear.

"I guess so." Not really.

"Don’t pout. No one’s gonna come up to you while I’m here, you know. Only thing snatching you off these rocks is me. That make you feel safe? Cuddling up with the most dangerous thing here?”

You give him a flat look, still feeling your earlier embarrassment. You’d push him off this stupid rock if you could.

His grin widens. "Don't look at me like that. You started this."

"I'm telling Ghost."

"Tattle-tale."

"Hmph." You wriggle over until you slide into the crook of his other arm with your hand on his chest. This way, you can see the humans and their boats over him, but you're mostly hidden from view.

"Sullen little…" Gaz's other arm slides over your back, holding you snugly to him. One big hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing in a way that makes your eyelids flutter. His mouth is right next to your ear. "Now will you stop flinching every time a boat passes?"

“Okay."

"Good. Now stay," he orders in a low voice, "and stop wriggling."

...

more mer au / more Gaz / masterlist

[azullumi]

“there’s so many fishes in the sea but i never learned how to swim” ; aventurine

summary — a guide to pining presented by yours truly, aventurine.

pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, secret pining but like aventurine can be too obvious, not proofread, 0.8k ; headcanons

tagging — @toorurs (sorry boo i forgot to tag 😭)

note — i know i could have done better with this one, my brain wasn’t just working and im also on a trip. this is day 6 and 7 of writing for him until i get him !!

Aventurine yearns for connection yet he erects tall walls of self-preservation, fearing vulnerability, attachment, and betrayals (the shadow of his fear of losing someone dear to him all over again will haunt and follow his steps). He’s always distant, seemingly detached to the people around him like a leaf that never touches the ground as the wind carries it away; his only drive for relationships is due to mutual-benefit or a give-and-take situation. So what happens to him when he falls and yearns for someone?

Love is violence, he knows that but his eyes would stumble after your shadow and he wonders what it feels like to live in it. He’ll lie under your gaze and he’ll dream what it feels like to be seen, what it feels like to be loved by you. He will seek ways to be close to you but not close enough that you’ll know the rhythm of his heart spells out the letters of your name. In each moment of longing, it is all tinged with a taste of bitterness as this yearning, though desired, is a precarious precipice—everything will crumble and fall once he speaks about it.

So he settles with stolen looks with wishful thinking that you’ll cast a glance at his direction, he settles with the small things at first before he begins to become selfish—he’ll make up reasons just to see and talk to you, think of excuses just so he could linger a little longer in your presence. He’ll make up games and initiates bets where he knows he’ll always win but would let himself lose anyways; winning or losing didn’t matter to him in those moments with you.

“Go ahead, guess.”

You fell into a deep thought, staring at the two hands balled into fist that are in front of you. Your eyebrows were scrunched, trying to listen to the voice of your instinct but everything was silent inside your head.

“Take your time. After all, whoever loses has to follow what the winner wants.” Aventurine spoke and you could discern the hint of amusement in his tone as he watched you fall into some sort of predicament—all you had to do was to choose which one of his hands was the coin in. It was just one of the simple games you’ll play with him every time you see each other. Come to think of it, his visits to your department have been quite frequent despite having no particular business, official or not.

“Shh. I’m thinking.” You answer, lifting your index finger to your mouth in a hush gesture. It took you a few moments of silence and thoughtful humming before you pointed at his left hand, “That one.”

But he opens his left hand to show nothing on his palm, his right hand revealing the coin at the same time, and you are hit with a wave of disappointment. A chuckle slips past his lips and you just sighed—there was nothing you could do but to admit defeat. “Well then, what do you want me to do?”

Aventurine, without a single second of hesitation, answered. “Let me take you out to dinner.”

The thing is you could have laid yourself bare to him, you could tell him all of the sins that taint your skin, the words left unspoken in your mouth, the growing mold in your lungs. He’ll see the rot and will choose to stay, he’ll see the cobwebs and dusty bookshelves, and he’ll love you still, he’ll see the torn wallpapers and ruined floors and he’ll still adore you (he’ll find you where you are most ruined and he will love you there).

(His hand would gently tug and hold at the cuffs of your sleeves, letting the warmth and closeness of his touch linger in hopes that you’ll see him in the sun that holds you gently.)

Many people claim that they love you but do they adore you the same way as he does? Would they cross bridges for you when he’ll swim oceans just to see the way your eyes catch the light? Would they traverse the stars just to listen to the sound of your laughter? 

(He’ll see the dirt in your hands and will help you wash it off when others would simply walk away.)

He’ll think of you as he laid in his bed, satin sheets all wrinkled and messy as his pillows scattered around his form, and he wondered how nice it would be to have your things among his. to have the smell of your perfume mixed with his, to have you in his arms before he sleeps (he has dreams of his dreams and you’re always in it).

All this yearning, longing, and adoration will turn into a sword that will make him bleed the more he holds on to it and you’ll stay in his thoughts as the blood will run dry on his being. He simply hopes he crosses your mind once in a while so that he won’t feel pathetic for thinking of you all the time.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 11

Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader + outdoors/public

How are yall spending your weekend? Im gonna spend it doing absolutely nothing, i hope. This kinda goes along with the vader prompt from last year, which you can read here. But it can still be read as a stand-alone, i think?

this has some dom/sub vibes between the reader and Vader, that just came as i wrote this. enjoy.

2024 kinktober masterlist

Being Darth Vader’s imperial officer came with its benefits and drawbacks. Being so clearly marked as Vader’s, in a special uniform that fit his colour scheme awoke fear in those around you, and garnered you much respect. It also meant you didn’t have to fear your superior in the same way, especially after you had started frequenting his quarters so he could “make sure your uniform was up to code”.

Most times it ended with you on your knees with him in your mouth, but on days where his pains were at the worst, Lord Vader simply used the force to have his way with you instead. You couldn’t see his face, and there was little chance you ever would, but you had a feeling he was smiling. At least a little, as you writhed and gasped on the cold metal floors of his chambers, as he played you like the little tool you were to him.

Sith did not love, it was not in their nature. But Vader could admit he was at least… fond of you. it was not in the same way he felt about Padme, no one could be Padme. But you were different in your own way. You didn’t fear him the same way as everyone else. You did fear him, everyone did, but it had a layer of respect in it that he hadn’t felt since he was Anakin Skywalker.

Your loud dreams about both Vader and Skywalker also helped with that, as Vader worked to slowly push the thoughts of Anakin out and replace them with only himself. It did feel nice to sometimes take the form of Anakin in your dreams, just so you could fuck him for once, since that wasn’t possible after he became more machine than man.

But being Vader’s own personal imperial officer, his “pet” as some whispered around the ship or death star, also came with the benefit that nobody dared question you. Or rather, nobody dared question Lord Vader. Which was why nobody questioned your position at his feet as he stood, staring out into hyperspace.

The few working around the bridge dared barely look in your direction, most fearing the powers of the force. Most knew little about the force, only that it was a power that made a being able to do things that should only be possible by gods. And the empire had made sure to scrub away what little knowledge there was. This resulted in most thinking that Vader always knew what they were thinking. He could, if he wanted too, and did most days. But with you at his feet there were more interesting things to focus on.

You had been ordered to stay quiet as you rubbed against his boot, feeling the unforgiving nature of his metal limbs against where you were most sensitive. Your uniform was pristine as always, not even allowed to have a single stitching out of place. That would be insulting to your lord you know, to walk around in such a special uniform and look dirty or disorganized.

But it was so hard to keep your face blank and your voice silent as you felt the force tighten around your base again, putting a stop to the orgasm that had been bubbling for what must have been the tenth time. At least, you thought so, maybe you had lost track.

The whine that was bubbling up in your throat was cut up with a familiar pressure, the minimal creak of Vader’s gloved hand telling you that he was using the force to quiet you. He had never choked you to near death, but he liked to remind you that he could. Vader could do anything to you, and at this point, after serving him for so long, you had a feeling you would let him.

As if he could sense your thoughts, which he most likely could, the squeezing around your throat and shaft lessened. It was still there, like an ever-constant reminder that he could snap your neck if he so wanted, but it only served to make your blood rush faster.

It was a little messy that your body had learned to become aroused by his threats, or perhaps promises, that he could kill you if he so pleased. About Vader’s absolute power over you, and anyone under his rule. The emperor may be the one at the top, but to you, Vader was the greatest.

The minimal hitch in his rhythmic breath made you shudder. He had liked those thoughts. It was only your amount of experience that you knew that, having had to learn what every minimal hitch of breath, curl of a finger, or turn of his helmet covered head meant. But it felt so rewarding now, to be the only one able to pick such things up.

There was a press against your prostate, an invisible force that you now knew was the force. Lord Vader had clearly been pleased with your opinion of him, rewarding you by rubbing that one place inside you that you didn’t touch yourself anymore, after Vader had ordered you not too.

It made a shuddering soft gasp leave you, causing an immediate flash of shame and panic to fill your chest. Lord Vader had told you to be quiet, and yet you had gasped, loud enough for those sitting by the panels closest dared peak over, before immediately looking away in fear once more.

You could feel tears gather in your eyes. You must have disappointed Lord Vader so much, you couldn’t even follow a simple order. The thought of his punishments made you want to grovel for forgiveness. Vader didn’t punish you in ways he punished others, there was no fear of death, but feeling him torture your prostate or cock from the other side of the ship, sometimes made you wish it was death.

For Vader didn’t do punishments lightly, small things like uniform irregularities had you edged till you sobbed. Or when he wasn’t in incredible pain, Vader found it fun to put you over his knee, letting his heavy metal hand spank you. Feeling his ungloved hand honestly always felt hotter than seeing his cock, like you were feeling and witnessing so far beyond your league that you could never dare try to put it into words.

But instead of punishing you, Vader’s hand slowly raised and placed itself on the top of your head, knocking your hat to the floor with a soft noise. In the quiet room it felt loud, loud enough to make some of the other worker’s flinch. Lord Vader didn’t need to speak, his one action was enough for you to sigh in relief. He was feeling forgiving today, he wouldn’t punish you for your small mishap. For now, at least.

You could hear his voice in your head, making you almost jolt. It was strange to get used too, to hear him through your mind and not your ears, but you understood it. Lord Vader couldn’t be caught speaking to anybody he didn’t need to speak too, so it always felt more intimate when he spoke to you this way. When he praised you or scolded you, like the pet you were.

His rumbled deep words had your neck straightening, as you moved your hips more insistently against his boots. You knew you would have to shine them later, most likely with your tongue, but that was fine too, you didn’t mind. Instead, you struggled to keep yourself quiet as Vader used the force to stimulate you further, almost cruelly forcing you over the edge as you gripped his leg, shaking all over as you were finally allowed to finish.

The heavy gloved hand on top of your head was all the comfort you got, at least in the eyes of the others there. Nobody could see how the force slowly rubbed your limbs and ran across your brain like a comforting cold cloth. Times like these reminded you that Lord Vader could be kind, in his own way at least, and to you.

It made it easier to pick up your hat again and rise to your feet, acting like nothing was happening as a small twitch of Vader’s hand had the creases in your uniform smoothing out. You could see the nearby workers blushing as you put your hat back on and took your dutiful spot behind Vader. Never beside him, and never in front of him, but behind him like the loyal pet that they all whispered you were.

And maybe you were a pet, all Vader had to do was tell you to bark. And bark you would, until your throat was raw, and your lungs collapsed. Because Vader was all you had, and something told you, that you were all he had in return.

[tojivu]

# OFFICE HOURS ‣ GOJO SATORU

✰ — author’s note i feel so guilty bc gojo is literally the only character i write for LOL anyway this is an old draft from months ago. idk why this is so long im so horrendously down bad for this fucking snowman.

✰ — cw / tags arrogant ceo!gojo x secretary f!reader, sfw, not rly enemies to lovers bc gojo has fat feelings, gojo satoru being a billionaire playboy

✰ — playing death & taxes by daniel caesar.

✰ — word count ~3k LOL

nothing about gojo satoru really strikes you as the serious type.

even in a professional environment, your boss always has a carefree demeanour. his laugh is so nauseatingly loud that you can hear it from outside the office, and you wonder how someone as busy as him manages through his day; much less with a positive attitude. you take one look at his schedule, and you want to vomit with the way you hardly see any gaps between appointments.

you suppose you could learn that from him. it's his only good quality.

you admit that he's likeable, on surface level. there's a reason why you detest him, though: as his closest colleague, you know him way more than you would prefer. most people would think such a well to do man like satoru would have a wife by his side, but that's unfortunately not the case. you almost feel more miserable than him—because now you're forced to be the listening ear and comforting hand at his beck and call.

you think he'd be just fine if he was just a little more humble. he has a nice face. it's his fault for being so stuck up. you know how many women ask him out—painfully aware, actually.

'they just aren't suited to my taste,' he would say to you. 'i need someone that makes me feel alive.'

one time, gojo even asked you to bail him out of a date—something about the way she held her fork and knife disturbed him, and you were expected to show up at the restaurant and act as if there was an emergency.

'i'm so sorry, sweetheart. i have to go, duty calls.' his disgustingly charming tone made you want to slap him then and there.

she called him again the following week, and he completely forgot who she was. he didn't even save her number.

the sheer number of people asking him out had stroked his ego so hard that gojo firmly believes no woman is deserving enough. he rambles on and on to you about how snobby some of them seem, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue when he does. 'takes one to know one,' you would say, if not for your job at stake.

you think gojo satoru is full of himself. you are a strong believer of that. a witness, as well—it's not like he didn't try his way with you, too. unlike the women he ranted about, you turned him down every single time.

it's been a long while since any of that has happened, though. the most recent ordeal was months ago, but that didn't inherently mean that people stopped asking him out: it just meant that he was rejecting every single offer.

it's a thursday morning when you find yourself eating a sandwich you purchased on the way to work, at your desk—wondering when the big boss will finally arrive. the clock read 9 a.m., and you're expecting an extravagant "good morning!" to surprise you any moment now.

just then, you notice mr. conceited walk in: except something is different. he has no stride in his step. there was no good morning. there was no playful teasing directed at you as he walked past your desk and into his office, not that you were complaining—it was just strange.

you stand up, a mouthful of your sandwich still being chewed. you take a big sip of water and fix your skirt and blouse, making sure your hair is presentable—before swiftly making your way into his office.

──────

"i cannot believe this." he mumbles. you're standing in front of his desk, but he's not facing your direction.

gojo's chair is turned to the giant window that overlooks the business district, and he's gazing out of it thoughtfully. you think this is the cheesiest thing you've seen him do.

you can see how disheveled his hair was, even from where you were standing. you don't want to irritate him further, in case teasing you was still on his to-do list that day.

"what is it, mr. gojo?"

he swivels his chair around, and he is a mess—just what could have he been up to?

"i woke up late today."

"you're the boss, mr. gojo. you can come in any time you want—"

"not the point." he interrupts you. "i forgot my lunch. i was in the car, with the driver, on the way here already. . . and then i realised i left my donuts at home."

gojo's face is absolutely distraught. he looks like he's gone through a divorce and had his house set on fire with how he stands up dramatically—his hands now on his desk. you open your mouth to speak, but he shuts you up by talking again.

"i didn't want to inconvenience him. i'm too thoughtful, miss y/n."

you want to scoff, but you bite your tongue and hold back.

"so i got out of the car and ran back for it," gojo recounts. "i arrived home after the treacherous journey—only to discover that my donuts are gone."

you feign an expression of shock, just to humour him; he gives you an 'i know right' look, and continues his nonsensical story.

"the maids threw them away, miss y/n."

you can't help yourself: you let a small giggle slip through your lips. you quickly use your hand to cover your mouth, thinking of a quick excuse.

you cough. you pretend to, at least—but gojo satoru is not stupid.

no, maybe a little. though, not enough to be convinced of your terrible acting.

"nothing about this is funny."

you nod, looking down at the floor. "i apologise, mr. gojo, but it's just a few donuts. i'm sure someone in the office could fetch some for you."

"yes, i agree." he says, and you shift your gaze from the marble tiling of his office to his face. his hair is a mess, yes—but he still looks revoltingly handsome. his eyes are piercing through yours, and pieces of hair cover his face in just the right places.

you're staring a little too long and gojo finds his pulse quickening with the eye contact—but the spell he has you under is soon broken when he clears his throat.

you quickly look away, embarrassed that you were caught staring at your boss, by your boss.

"you'll pick some up for me, yeah?" his smooth and silky voice echoes through the empty space of his office.

you look at him again, and there's a gentle smile on his face; one you're all too familiar with.

you're aware of satoru's charismatic nature, his playboy-ish attitude, and all sorts of tricks he uses to make women fall head over heels for him. that didn't mean you were completely resistant to them, though—you find yourself playing with the sleeves of your blouse, your ears beginning to redden. "of course," is all you manage to say.

at least you were self-aware.

your mind was rational. should gojo satoru try to hit on you for the nth time—all it took was some self discipline to say no, and you'd like to think you had plenty.

you think the conversation is done with the way he doesn't speak another word, so you turn on your heels and make your way out of the office.

just as you touch the handle of the door, your boss adds: "i'll come with you."

you turn back to him, confused. you didn't need your boss babysitting you for a donut run, you knew his favourite flavours—it's all he ever insists on buying for lunch. "there's no need for that, mr. gojo."

satoru shakes his head in disapproval. "you don't even know my favourite flavours, miss y/n."

that was a blatant lie. he knew you knew. you were his personal donut grabber for a few months up until august, and it was only october. you suppose that it would've continued on if not for your complaints about the long lines in the morning.

nevertheless, you don't argue with him. gojo satoru was the type to get what he wants, when he wants, if he really wants it.

you smile at his disregard for the months you spent as his errand runner, and how idiotic the excuse he just used was. satoru knows he's lying through his teeth, and your smile makes him more nervous than your eye contact.

so nervous, in fact, that he takes back what he just said. "unless. . . you're fine by yourself."

you're surprised that gojo's confidence is dissipating, or that it could even fade at all. you can tell with the way he's avoiding your eye contact, exactly how you evaded his earlier—the red on the tips of his ears are much too obvious in contrast to his hair.

"i don't mind," you respond a bit too quicker than appropriate. "mr. gojo."

gojo curses himself mentally, thinking about how stupid he must sound. he's usually the one making people nervous, but he doesn't know why it's different when you look at him like that.

──────

the atmosphere is deafening in gojo's favourite bakery. you always knew he had a sweet tooth, so you expected his choice to be a spectacular one—and you weren't disappointed.

you had personally visited this bakeshop before, and the confectionery was truly as good as people made it out to be; it proved evident in the amount of people crammed into this small establishment. though, you can't tell if it was for the food or for your boss, with the way most pairs of eyes are turned in his direction.

you two spend a good five seconds looking at the menu before gojo states his order, which was exactly what you thought it would be—the lady at the cashier smiles a bit too long at satoru, before asking: "eating in?"

you want to open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to it. "of course."

it was still very well your work day. he (or maybe you and him, considering you helped him plan seventy percent of his appointments) had a meeting in 3 hours to prepare for. you think this donut adventure is already unnecessary enough—but here he is, suggesting to waste even more time eating the donuts in the bakery itself.

"we have a meeting in a bit, though. you could eat it in your office."

he looks at you with a confused look, as if he forgot that there was a meeting at all—because he did forget. gojo gasps, turning back to the lady and retracting his previous statement.

──────

gojo eats his donuts agonisingly slow and no conversation is initiated.

you're alternating between staring at both your laptops and the swirls on the wooden desk, unable to say anything because you didn't plan for such an occasion: an eating donuts with your admittedly handsome boss that makes you nervous while simultaneously planning for an important meeting occasion.

"miss y/n, you should try some."

you shift your eyes from the table to gojo, and he's holding a small piece of his donut to your lips: the powdered sugar practically calling your name.

"it's fine, i ate earlier," you decline his generous offer. "you should eat."

"i'm not asking you to eat all of them, miss y/n." he smiles at you. "just a bite. it's really good, y'know."

you sigh, reaching for his hand to take it from him—but he swiftly pulls it away and shakes his head. "open your mouth."

you feel the tips of your ears burning, blood rushing to your cheeks and you wonder how the girls he takes out manage themselves when he's like this—you've worked with him for so long, yet you can't recall a time when his gaze wouldn't make you shudder.

you think you'd stutter if you spoke one more word to him, so you save yourself from the embarrassment and bare with his request.

he feeds you the piece of sugar-coated donut, and you're sure you have powder on the corners of your lips with how it's width barely fits into your mouth.

you chew and swallow, feeling the residue of sugar on your skin.

"do you have any tissues?" you ask him, a serious expression plastered onto your face.

gojo tries to suppress the chuckle itching to escape his throat—the sugar on your lips and cheeks catch him off guard, and after a few seconds he can't help but let a small laugh slip. you stand up from your chair, scanning the room for any boxes of tissues you could lay your hands on.

he stands up as well, shaking his head—still giggling.

"it's not funny," you frown, and the smile on his face only grows wider—you're too cute for your own good when you sulk. "stop laughing."

you're not sure if you want to punch him or let him giggle to himself. for some reason, seeing you embarrassed is a great cause of joy to him. you can't bring yourself to tell him to shut up; you always imagine doing just that, it's strange how you couldn't muster the courage just when you needed it most.

"it's quite funny," gojo's laughter eventually calms down.

he leans closer to you and his right hand gently holds the side of your jaw—he uses his thumb to gently wipe the sugar off your cheek, and then your lips. "i got it."

his thumb stays on your bottom lip after dusting the sugar away. his pupils are locked onto the surface of your lips, which were glossy in the harsh light of his office: they looked so soft.

before long, they trail up your face until he's looking directly into your eyes: and this time you're not nervous, you don't look away, and your heart is completely calm.

satoru's fingers are easy on your skin. he handles you like fragile glass, as if he doesn't want to break you: and it's the same for the way he looks at you. gentle.

you're reluctant to speak because the way satoru has his thumb on your bottom lip sends shivers down your spine. you feel breathless.

you don't want this feeling to leave, not just yet.

a few seconds of tension pass. his hand moves back to your jaw, and your nervousness returns when gojo satoru leans his tall figure even closer to you; his head tilting ever so slightly.

it's a random thursday morning when you discover a few more good qualities gojo satoru possesses: his lips and his hands. maybe the way he kisses, too—it's slow and precise, unlike his attitude. he tastes sickeningly sweet and it makes you want to savour this moment even more.

you promised yourself you wouldn't fall victim to gojo satoru. yet, you just can't pull away: instead finding yourself slithering your arms around his neck and your chest pressing against his.

gojo's hands are wandering down to your waist and he's desperate to have you as close to him as possible, showing in the way he tries to close the already small gap between you two.

it takes only a fraction of a second for a small thought to form in your mind: just how many women have been in this position?

you quickly forget about that thought, though—you think it's pointless to regret it now, gojo satoru kisses you too good to be full of remorse.

gojo thinks he could stay like this: kiss you all morning, afternoon and pay you overtime if it meant he could be this close to you for just a bit longer.

there's hints of neediness in gojo's touch—as if he'd been waiting for this forever, wanting to relish it before it ends. his few seconds of bliss don’t last very long though, because you're soon pulling away—gasping for air.

he sighs mockingly, his hands sliding down from your waist to your hips. "can't last longer than 10 seconds, miss y/n?"

of course he would say some cocky shit like that—you'd forgotten for a minute that this was the same, arrogant mr. gojo you always knew, and no kiss (however heavenly) was going to change that.

"i'm sorry that i don't go on dates with every man that breathes."

gojo smirks at you after you say those words. "come on. just because i go on dates with people, doesn't mean i kiss them like this."

"sure you don't." your jealousy shows a bit too much in your reply, and he finds himself smiling even harder.

"is someone jealous?" he teases you again, rubbing circles with his thumb against the flesh of your hips.

you feel flustered, knowing that you're definitely done for now—he saw right through you. "nobody is jealous, mr. gojo."

"stop it with the formality. just call me satoru."

"it's still office hours. it's only polite."

gojo rolls his eyes, sighing in the process. you grin a little at him, knowing that this was the first thing you denied him of today—complying with the donuts and the kissing was already spoiling him enough.

"then i suppose there's only after work," there's his nauseatingly charming voice again—low and smooth. he knows exactly what he's doing to you, and you know it too. "i'm off after 6."

you think long and hard about whether you want to be mean and add this to the list of things you've declined to do for him. the ratio was starting to get really unbalanced—but you remember the way his hands touch you and how his lips greet yours so lovingly: and you think that there's no point turning back now.

"my boss doesn't let me off until after 8, though." you try to poke at his buttons—you put on a fake pout, knowing you’ll accept his invitation anyway—but gojo satoru is eternally patient when it came to things he sincerely desired.

"fuck your boss." he says, "he'll be fine with it."

you laugh at his response. you never thought you would see the day gojo curses at himself, after all, he's so self-obsessed: but you suppose you've seen—and tasted—parts of him that you never knew existed.

"then i'll see you at 6, mr. gojo."

what was the harm in discovering more?

230323 — i kinda hate this but.. wtv… anyway i couldn’t be bothered to proofread have my brainrot of gojo in a suit Mmmm yumyum

[dfortrafalgar]

Special Delivery

(Sanji x Fem!Reader- Offscreen)

Sanji reaches out to Zeff for the first time in years.

I wrote this many, many months ago now, and it was the first fic i posted anonymously on AO3. I got a few requests after it was originally posted to write a second part, which I eventually did!

You can read Part 2 here! Original AO3 link

(I figured I should let my blog breathe a little in between the really heavy and emotional Law fic im writing, and what better way to cool down than some sanji fluff <3)

A sharp squawk awoke Red-Leg Zeff from his daze. With a grumpy expression and a low grunt, he peered towards the direction of the sound.

A messenger coo was seated on the railing of the Baratie's upper deck next to where Zeff stood slouched over with his forearms leaning against the wooden support. It cocked its head to the side as if it was deconstructing Zeff's appearance before reaching into its pouch and procuring a parchment envelope. Zeff found it strange. Messenger coos only usually delivered the newspapers or the latest bounty reports, very rarely were they put in charge of personalized letters. It must have been paid off by whoever wanted this delivered.

The gruff man took the parchment from the beak of the bird and watched as it took back off into the air, leaving a few molted white feathers behind in its wake. He looked at the envelope.

All it said on the front, in very elegant handwriting, was "Captain Zeff." He flipped the paper around, revealing a wax stamp holding the opening down, which he peeled off with a calloused thumb.

Tucked neatly inside the envelope was a white piece of paper, tri-folded over itself. Zeff slipped the paper out, unfolding it to reveal the written contents of the letter. The penmanship was impeccable, and the ink was very sleek. He knew immediately it was from Sanji, not many other pirates had handwriting as good as his. He had completely lost track of how many years it had been since the curly-browed boy left with that ragtag group of pirates to sail to the Grand Line, but Zeff had every single one of his bounty posters. He'd never admit it, but they were tacked up on the wall of his sleeping quarters. Every time Sanji's bounty increased, Zeff felt pride swell in his heart.

"How are you doing, you old geezer. It's been a little too long since we've had any contact, so I thought I'd write to you just to see how you've been. You're no slouch, I'm sure you've been keeping up with the world's events over the past however-many years. Do the Marines even bother to keep sending our bounty posters to the Baratie anymore? Well, regardless, I'm sure you can read right through me. I can't deny it, I miss you, old man. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life, and such a huge part of that is thanks to you and the guys back on that old cruiser. Every recipe I try to make, I imagine you screaming in my ear and telling me that it tastes like shit. Some days I really wish I could be back there, but most of the time I'm joyful. Life has been really, really good. A few years ago, I met someone. Last year, we got married, and soon after our lives changed so drastically. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, and she's as sweet as an angel. I mean it, too. I know you'd probably think something along the lines of me playing up my affections again just because she's a pretty woman, but I mean it. You'd love her, Zeff. Living as a pirate is the most stressful thing anyone could ever do, but she makes every day worth it. The crew was discussing the possibility of returning to the East Blue a bit ago, and when we do, I'm going to introduce you to her. I've spent the last years talking all about you, how you taught me everything I know about cooking, and I can tell she's just as excited as I am to finally see you. This letter's gone on long enough and I don't want to use up all of Nami's paper.

-- Sanji"

Zeff felt a lump in the back of his throat. Sanji had grown into such a fine young man, eloquent with his words and his feelings. He knew how big of a deal it was for the boy to be so honest and open. But one thing in the letter caught him off guard. What did he mean by, "Soon after our lives changed drastically."?

Zeff peered into the envelope, where another, smaller envelope was tucked inside. He almost didn't see it. Pulling it out, he held the letter and original envelope in between his fingers while he opened the second. Sanji was thorough with his packaging, that's for sure.

Inside, there were three photographs printed on thin, matted paper. The first was of Sanji and you, the wife he wrote about in his letter, taken by someone else holding the camera. Sanji had his arm around you, holding you against him, and you had your face nuzzled into his neck. His other hand held a cigarette away from the two of you, like he was in the middle of telling a story. The two of you were smiling brighter than the sun, Sanji's eyes completely closed with the motion of laughter, and yours creased, your irises looking up towards him.

The second photo made Zeff's eyes water. A photo of you and Sanji on the deck of the Sunny, exchanging rings. Sanji was wearing a sleek navy blue tuxedo, while you were wearing a gorgeous white ballgown. For pirates, you cleaned up phenomenally. He could just make out tears in Sanji's eyes as the photo displayed you sliding a band onto his finger. A skeleton with poofy hair stood between the two of you, which Zeff found a little odd, but he chuckled at the absurdity of it all.

Zeff flipped to the last photo.

The tears that were welling in his eyes from the previous image finally slid down his cheeks in heavy, salty droplets. His lip quivered.

Sanji sat in a chair, beaming down at a bundle of cloth held gently in his arm. He was crying in this photo as well, and was reaching a finger over the top of the bundle, where a smaller hand was reaching outwards to grab onto it. A small glimpse of blonde hair could be made out from under the cloth securing the baby tightly. On the back of the film, Sanji wrote the birth date and the name of the baby.

Zeff used a sleeve to wipe his blubbering eyes. His lips quivered, but he couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face.

Was he allowed to call himself a grandfather now? He figured it was only appropriate.

[cupoftaae]

Still Perfect (JK Drabble)

Summary- Your mind is playing evil tricks on you again, and the only one who can bring you back down to earth is your husband, the one you are ashamed to admit everything to.

Warnings- swearing, minor angst, they are in luv its cute, mentions of depression (reader), mentions of medications. 18+

Enjoy <3

"Baby...I'm gonna take Gia outside to test the new swing I put up, do you wanna come?" Jungkook whispered, his hand on your back as you laid in the dark bedroom at 2 in the afternoon.

You sighed, looking up at your husbands face, "I want to but I just...Im so tired"

He nodded sadly, "okay...thats okay you dont have to, I'll take pictures?"

"yes please" you smile weakly

"mama!! mama! lets go outside!" Your 3 year old, Gia, runs into the room and stands beside your bed.

Jungkook was quick to pick her up into his arms, squeezing her, "mama isnt feeling too good right now, shes gotta rest." he whispered

"again?" your daughter pouted, her big eyes looking down at you- and with single glance, your heart was broken into 5 million pieces.

Jungkook frowned, "hey, sometimes adults get tired, its okay, we will go have fun in the backyard and you can see mama later? wave bye bye" he held her small hand up and waved for her as he began to leave the room, mouthing a soft "love you" in your direction before the door shut.

with that, the tears began to flow.

Your depression struggles have always found a way into your family, when you were dating jungkook you spent so much time explaining that sometimes you just cant function, and he was the first boyfriend you had that understood and didnt make you feel like a piece of shit for struggling with something out of your control.

It was nice, but then the fears that he would leave set in.

He always tries his best to make sure you feel loved and appreciated, when he proposed, he took you to Italy for 3 weeks just to be alone with you.

And your wedding was no different either.

He made sure you felt beautiful the way you were, showing you off at any chance he could, and even stepping away from the after party with you for a bit when things got overwhelming.

Many emotions were experienced when you became pregnant after 3 months of marriage. The guilt in believing you werent a good mother, the guilt for not having enough energy to eat most days even though you knew it wasnt just about/for yourself.

The self neglect was the worst part, and if jungkook had not been there to help you through all of the ugly, you dont know what you would have done.

You love him so much and the thought that maybe he doesnt feel that from you is terrifying, the thought that your daughter is only 3 and is already catching onto her mothers odd behavior is alarming.

Gia sees her friends moms play with them, she goes over to her cousins house and plays with their mom, why doesnt her own mom have that energy?

The tears seeped into the silk pillows as you squeezed your eyes shut.

This was how it often was for you: no emotion at all, or sadness. thats it, since you were 13.

No amount of doctor visits or therapy could fix you, and now you were letting it ruin your family.

-

A bit after Jungkook brought Gia inside, she fell asleep on the couch in the living room.

He smiled and took a photo of her small bundled up body laying on the cushion before making his way upstairs to show you.

"honey, you awake?" he mumbled, sliding open the door and walking in.

You were facing the opposite wall, feeling absolutely numb.

"baby" he smiled, kissing your forehead, "you okay? you wanna see the videos of gia?"

You tried to open your mouth to talk but nothing came out, instead your eyes teared up again and you turned your face further into the pillow to hide.

He frowned, putting his phone away as he climbed under the covers with you, his larger body spooning against yours. "sweetheart, whats going on?" his hand brought you closer

"I dont know" you whispered quietly

"just not doing good again?" he questioned, hand rubbing your side softly to soothe you.

You nod, unable to talk.

"im here for you, did you take your medication?"

"no.."

"okay well lets do that now so we dont forget, okay?" he sat up and pulled open your nightstand drawer, taking the pill you take daily and handing it to you alongside a water bottle.

You gently sat up and leaned against the headboard, taking the pill.

"where is she?" you asked quietly, teary eyes catching to kooks in the dimly lit bedroom.

"she passed out on the couch downstairs, bam is laying with her" he smiled, finding a cozy spot beside you again.

"am I a bad mom?" you question, watching his face contort

"what? why would you ask me that? of course you arent"

"jungkook I havent been able to leave the room for 2 days, this isnt normal....she misses me, she needs her mommy and im failing her" your voice cracked slightly as jungkook immediately brought you into his arms, caging you against him.

"dont talk like that, you are such an amazing woman, y/n. I would have never married you otherwise. You are so fucking strong and you cant let yourself fall into this dark space, you are struggling, yes, but we take it step by step, just like we've always done." he rubs your back as he speaks, "and Gia doesnt feel left out, she would not stop talking about you the entire time we were outside. Dont tell her I told you but she picked a bunch of 'flowers' for you" he giggled, "I didnt have the heart to tell her they were just weeds"

You allow yourself to laugh softly, leaning into your husbands embrace.

"you are doing so well....so incredibly well baby. I know life isnt always fair but we cant blame ourselves, we have to pick up what we have learned and move on as stronger people."

You nod, looking at him as he wipes the tear on your cheek.

"my beautiful girl, I love you so much, you know that?"

You smile sadly, "I love you too"

"can I take you downstairs and we can cuddle on the couch? I'll cook for you, you havent eaten in hours"

"okay" you sniff, allowing jungkook to help you up and keep a blanket wrapped around your body.

-

"mommy!"

Gia's toothless smile greeted you as you came downstairs, Bam laying on her protectively.

"Hi baby" you waved and walked over, sitting onto the couch and letting her crawl into your lap. "I missed you sweetheart, oh- your overalls are backwards" you giggled softly

Jungkook blushed as he sat on the other side of you, sharing a funny glance with his daughter.

"daddy dress me" she whispered

"I can tell" you smile, squeezing her tightly and rocking back and forth gently.

"my pretty girls" jungkook whispered, more so to himself than directed at you both.

"and bammy" gia added on, hiding her face against your chest.

"and bammy" you insisted, rubbing her back

Jungkook leaned over to wrap you two into his arms, kissing both of your heads.

"did you have fun outside" you asked

Gia giggled, "yeah...but daddy pushed the swing too much, I fell" she babbled

"what?" You look at your husband

"shes okay, shes breathing, shes here" he began, smothering his hands over his little girls face as she laughed loudly.

"mama feeling okay?" she asked once you all calmed down,

"mama is doing okay, my dear. Dont worry about me, I love you so much" you squished her face softly and kissed her nose

"love you more!!" she added, clapping her hands

"Love you most!!" You couldnt help but smile as jungkook leaned his head against the back of the couch, eyes drawn on his wife and daughter only.

"i'll make some lunch" he spoke, standing

"yay!! I help?" Gia hopefully asked

"no no, you girls sit there and look cute" he winked at you before walking off to the kitchen, bam following him in hopes of getting a treat.

You loved your little family, and you wouldnt trade them for anything the world had more to offer.

They were the ones who got your through the toughest part of life, and you were grateful that in this moment you didnt have to fake a smile.

[sturniolo04]

Sick M.S.

Bf!Matt x Gf!Fem!Sick!Reader

Summary: in which Ellie gets sick in front of her boyfriend.

TW: Mentions of throw up

Matt's POV: Me and Ellie have been dating for a year now can you believe that! We are just now getting back from our anniversary dinner. We went somewhere really exotic and different. In my opinion it was good considering i am very picky about what i eat on a day to day basis.

Me and ellie were now sitting in our shared room in my joined house with my brothers and she was sitting on the bed watching me play fornite while she  posted on instagram for the day

@itzEllie

Liked by chrissturniolo and 777,989 others

Tagged: @mattsturniolo

@ itzEllie: Happy one year luv

Comments: 10.2k

@ nicolassturniolo: ahh love this

@ chrissturniolo: why do you have to make me feel so single bruh @ itzEllie

@itzEllie: @ chrissturniolo sorry bud

I look up in Ellie's direction to see her turned sitting uncomfortably on the bed with her hand on her stomach.

Matt; you okay Ellie

i aksed looking at her concerned

Ellie:..

Matt: Ellie

i said again seeing she had put her head in her lap.i get up and go over to her rubbing her back slightly.

Matt; do you need anything

Ellie: I dont feel good Matt

she replies weakly

Matt: im sorry is there anything i can do

he replies back looking around the room slightly not knowing really what to do.

Ellie: i feel like throwing up

she finally admitted honestly. Its rare that Ellie ever gets sick and when she is she makes sure Matt doesnt know about it.

Ellie leans over in her seat more.

Matt: Ellie i am getting worried what can i do

Ellie sits up slightly looking okay but then throws up all over the floor and on Matt

Matt; Ellllliiiieeeeee

he quietly exclaims as he covers his mouth shocked as what just occurred

Matt:  are you okay

he states worried about her but also completely grossed out.

Ellie: its all over your floor matt im sorry

she whines out

Ellie: i'll clean it up i promise just..

she rambles hoping Matt isnt made about her throwing up everywhere

Matt: oh my god no Ellie its okay i will clean it up

he sighs out proceeding to rub her back slightly

Matt: its okay i promise just got get cleaned up

he states directing her to his bathroom

Ellie: i dont feel good Matt

Matt: i know just go shower ill clean this up is there anything you need

Ellie: No its okay im sorry

she states getting up weakly walking over to the bathroom

Ellie's POV: i feel really bad about throwing up on Matt but i couldnt stop it. it makes me feel bad about how i messed up his floor and clothes

Matt's POV: i got everything kind of cleaned up and discarded my clothes grabbing new ones as Ellie walked out of the bathroom with her hair up in a ponytail and an abnormally large hoodie which was probably mine.

Matt:  how do you feel Ellie

Ellie: like shit.. i mean i can go home and be sick there so i dont get you sick

Matt: WHAT Ellie no come here

he exclaims as he holds his arms open as she walks over to him

Matt: that is the least of my worries

Ellie: Im sorry

Matt: Oh my god Ellie stop apologizing its okay

she shudders a little as he chuckles a little

Ellie: okay

she sighs out as he rests his head on top of hers

Matt: its okay Ellie

Taglist

@adirtylittleheart @mintsturniolo

[girlbowser]

How do you feel about the portrayal of plurality in Homestuck? Because it’s not good.

Cherubs are “supposed” to predominate over their other personality. With Calliope being portrayed as naive for trying to co exist.

Horuss is mocked for being a system. But I’d say it was a king fun of people who pretend to be mentally Ill on social media for clicks.

Then their are the sprites

okay so

i guess we're doing this

HOMESTUCK AND PLURALITY: A PRIMER

BECAUSE JESUS CHRIST THERES SO MUCH

SO SO SO MUCH

okay. so

homestuck is one of the best pieces of media of all time for plurality and i fuckin mean it. no shot do not pass go i have NEVER seen anything that is more built from the ground up to Support plural reads. like, to the point where it feels impossible to read homestuck without it.

as a work dealing with two huge primary themes of a) finding yourself/identity/growing up, and b) ideas coming to life, plurality is pretty much the Perfect intersection between the two of them. like.

take rose for example.

rose is plural and it's great.

when the doomed timeline evaporates, future dream rose does not actually "cease to exist." she ceases to exist as her own person -- her memories, experiences, personality, thoughts (or, as shorthand, her selfstuff) all flows back into rose prime. and that experience is just something rose has to roll with. one becomes two -- that other rose is still in her mind.

jade's plural and it's great.

when her dream self awakens as jadesprite, jade has a horrific argument with her. if you're plural i'm sure you understand. fighting with an age-regressed version of you, stuck in a traumatic past, who WONT FUCKING LISTEN -- we've all . been there.

she has involuntary barks, she can't stop seeing images of fire, she wants to go back to nonexistence but she doesnt want to die and it's torture,

and then in cascade, jade fuses with her.

dream jade is still in there. that part of her she has to grapple with is still real. her dog who she loves is in there, too -- but, yknow. woof

then grimbark gets forcefully introjected into her. i've seen a few fics play with the idea that the grimbark personality is still residually there (read ygtpoasu), but it's not a huge thing that's explored in the text. more backgrounded. but still! her crisis of identity is in there.

wanna know what's NOT backgrounded

tavros's plurality is like, a pretty big factor in his character!!!! it's one of the bigger points vriska uses to bully him with (because she's projecting because she's projecting because she's projecting, because she's also plural and kins mindfang), it's like. a big thing that he has to cope with and figure out.

kanaya suggested tavros treat his self-confidence as his own brain guy, like, completely sincerely. she genuinely thought it would help, and it sorta did!!!!!

and like

it is FAR from the only positive example of plurality in the comic.

like. look at sollux and aradia defending "alternate reality copies" of characters -- which can be pretty easily extrapolated to them talking about fictives

like. !!!!

i dunno, man. i think that homestuck is a DEEPLY plural story. you should read mtm and kgtac for more exploration of these themes. read detective pony too while you're at it. like.

i havent even TOUCHED on horuss or dirk or karkat here because there is just so much. there's so much! like ultselves. oh my god i completely neglected to talk about ultselves or cherubs or --

augh

but anyway here's The Screenshots from mtm

homestuck is, like, the single most fictive compatible fictional work i've ever read.

"oh im being sent to another universe as a brain ghost? that happened to my buddy dirk"

"oh im one of many incarnations of myself, and perhaps not even the most 'canon compliant' one? haha dream bubbles moment"

"ive been isekai'd into another world? lol sburb"

it. yeah. god. i could literally talk about this all day. but instead im gonna direct you to my ao3.

check out no metaphors and then scroll through the "multiplicity/plurality" tag on my page

and if youve got more specific stuff, send in another ask!

[stazsi]

chris sturniolo as ur bf!!

warnings: uh literal pure fluff bc i aint freaky like that, boyfriend!chris

mynotes&lt;3: this is the first time im doing ANYTHING simular to this lmao but js tell me if u want a p2

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

love languages: DEFO 100% physical touch!? words of affirmation

physical touch!!: any chance he gets hes close to u or touching u like his hands are always on ur shoulders or on ur back and sometimes round ur waist even when ur sitting down he's finding a way to stay connected to you and remind you he's there. so basically clingy asff :)

words of affirmation!!: he definitely would always comment on why he loves you and talk about how beautiful u are! he will defo constantly compliment you and make every conversation directed to memories with you or just you in general ( also obvs say i love you 3728 times a day )

teasing: he would constantly play-fight with you and joke about things that annoy you but never make anything superrr serious

like if something embarrassing happened he'd mention it and you'd laugh about it to make it a good memory

he would tickle you and stuff for ur laugh

he would pretend theres something on your shirt or thats theres a spider or bug and laugh when u freak out

gifts??:constantly buying your favourite things and justy keeping it in his house even if he doesn’t like the foods you eat i bet hed keep them in his house just for you.

"i thought you didnt like these?" "i dont, they’re for you"

"can i have these?" "they were for you anyways"

hanging out: he's a group kind of guy so hell make sure you like his friends so you can all hang out tg and i feel like you two are ALWAYS together just with different groups of people.

if you didnt like one of his friends hed be stuck lmao most probably would choose u

bad moods: if your pissed at him or having a bad day he will immediatly run to jokes and even search them up on his phone to tell you them all and he will laugh the most.

corny jokes 24/7

stare at you after the joke to see your reaction

pet names: he would have 36000 pet names for yopu and forget every single one so he makes up a new one

if you fall alot that day or sneezed alot something hed makeup a pet name for it (sneezy lmfaoo)

staying in: once in a while youd go out since thats what you wanted but he'll ALWAYS prefer staying in

(ordering in bc he cant cook help)

uhh yeah thats all <33

[elftwink]

my toxic trait is that i can't listen to those "GM/DM from hell" ttrpg horror stories because i almost always agree with the GM even if they're being extremely unreasonable because at least 80% of the time it's immediately obvious that the entire table is trash and the GM put up with it for a saintly amount of time before snapping and now the players have to crawl to reddit to be validated, where they will be validated because any GM who wont take a bullet for their players and then suck their dick is lazy and selfish, obviously!!

for example one "unreasonable" rule ive seen floating around abt dnd is "you have to act out all charisma checks" and look. i am aware at least some DMs with this rule are trying to be the next Matt Mercer and want you to play the part of the next Sam Riegel, damn your comfort and either of your skill levels and capabilities. this should obviously be addressed with exactly what the DM expects and why; after all, they don't make you do a backflip for an acrobatics check

BUT. but. imagine, if you will. you're the DM. your players come to a tavern. you describe a bunch of NPCs and wait for players to instigate roleplay. one of them rolls a die without asking you and then says "I want to seduce the innkeeper. I rolled an 18"

"ok," you say, (even though they should have just said what they did and waited for you to ask them for a skill check) because you're a good DM and you roll with the punches, "cool. what do you say to her?"

"uhm. I rolled an 18."

"ok yeah but what do you say. like what happens. what do you want the outcome to be"

"im seducing her. I rolled to seduce. I got 18"

"okay I know— you know seduction is not a skill right? whatever. what happens?"

"I dunno, you're the DM. I rolled an 18 though"

you now have a couple choices. you can continue trying to coax this player into roleplay, and risk the table think you are denying them the success of the roll (a roll you didnt even ask them to make), or you can sigh and say "okay fine. you seduce the innkeeper. you retreat to your quarters after dinner" even though this isn't fun for you and is barely fun for anyone else, including the player in question who stopped caring about the specifics the second they saw a high roll.

NOW imagine this happens several times a session, at least.

this is a fairly common occurrence at most tables, mostly due to lack of skill and comfort with roleplay, but it can happen to anyone who just isnt feeling 100% that day for any reason. im extremely fortunate to have DMed at tables where prompts like "and what do you say" actually do kick-start roleplay, and when it doesn't we're all comfortable enough to take a pause and try to figure out what we want from the scene, if anything. some sessions may be full on dialogue and others just quick narration depending on what the party wants to focus on and if they feel like getting into roleplay that day. & because I know what my players want, it's way easier to nudge them in that direction, and I don't get any resistance because we understand we share a common goal.

but if this were to happen at my table frequently when I was less experienced, with players who internalize the players vs DM antagonism rife in so many dnd spaces, where my attempts to direct the game were belittled or ignored but also where every single player had to be fucking micromanaged in order to keep the game rolling... i also might deal with this by putting my foot down and saying "if you don't roleplay a charisma check, you do not get to make a roll". to me this is not rules tyranny. this is a desperate attempt to get players to actually play the fucking game with you rather than chat and fuck around at your expense, wasting your time and all the time you spent prepping. & that is why, your Honor, my client pleads NOT GUILTY!!! and furthermore the defense would like to state that this whole case is projection on the part of the plaintiffs and should have been thrown out long before getting to court.

(i will say. if you're a DM and you find yourself making extremely specific, borderline unreasonable house rules to deal with your party's antics, especially if the impact is to just make them use the RAW, you need to find a new table. yes even if you're friends. doubly so actually. your friendship will survive you quitting DMing for them. it may not survive the blowout fight you'll end up having if you continue trying to pretend that shit doesn't bother you.)

[pandoraroid]

The Pack Wedding 💥💥💥💗💥

reaction rambles bc yes

please keep in mind this is meant to be lighthearted i love these men with all my heart n life n soul

THIS IS 43 MINUTES IM SO SCARED WHY CANT I PRESS THE VIDEO this is too much nervousness for seven in the morning im dead

DAVEEEYYYYY HIIIIIII GMORNING MWAAAA

"it's the pack everything's gonna go crazy." bro it's the SHAW pack what does that say about you hm 🤔 /j i love you david 

"reception's gonna be a solstice party on steriods" I SNORTED SO DAMN LOUD 😭

now should be a good time to say that part of the reason why i like redacted so much is because it's so funny and lines like that do it for me every single time.

"i love you angel so very much" BOOGSH 💥 im so in love with you david shaw 

i think bro's in love with us guys idk 

"beautiful... you.." NO YOU 🫵 david we are not doing this back in forth in the morning JUST ACCEPT IT

he's triggering my cuteness/love aggression SO FUCKING SAPPY I LUV U MWAH

"you fucking menace c'mere" HIS LAUGH OMFG GOOD FUCKINH MORNINGGGG

IS ASHER NEXT PLEASE TELL ME HE'S NEXT 

MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN

"oh fuck it's the day" me just this morning

"asher breathe we're good you've been training for this your whole life" ELABORATE???? id love to know how exactly youve been training for this asher

"it's our wedding day. holy shit it's our wedding day. i'm gonna be a husband." KILLL MEEE RIGHT NOW I CAN HEAR HIM SMILEEE OMFG WEAR THAT SHIT WITH PRIDE ASHER

"i've always been husband material look at what we're working with" KILL ME RIGHT NOW /pos baabe smacking him though HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

id kiss you for the rest of my life asher

laughing against/while kissing THIS MAN WANTS ME DEAD

"say how much time do we have before we meet everybody in the lobby" LET THEM FUCKING WAIT

MILO AND SAM???? OH MY GOD???? (should go without fucking saying but... drive safe..... please...)

in my head: sam is driving. david's shotgun. ash & milo are in the back. just because. >> BRO I WAS RIGHT????

darlin driving in another car with the other mates??? that... isnt what i think it is.... is it......

david sounds so tired of their bs HAHAHA "rounded out with a little traditional opinion from them of all people" DARLIN FIGHT BACK

"hey we're fun too, right?" ASHER PLEASE

"well let's see: we've got a grouchy grandpa drivin us-" 

"hey." 

"at least he didn't call you cowboy." BRO

"now don't you start." 

"and we got the grumpy alpha."

"i'm not grumpy. just preoccupied."

"right. right." bros didnt even try to sound convinced

"we're fun." 

"asher. we spent your bachelor party playing destiny 2." 

"and smash!" 

"oh my mistake."

this entire conversation. peak.

"i dont even wanna imagine what chaos those four are getting up to piled in one vehicle." OH WOULDNT YOU LIKE TO SAM 

DEAD ASS SILENCE I LOVE IT i cant fycking breathe this is too funny.

in my head, they were definitely arguing over directions. or darlin's driving, or making fun of the other car.

wait darlin what

"or you'll likely end up staring down the maw of my own beautiful mate-" SAMUEL COLLINS

"oh move it mr. wedding day" WHY DOES THAT SOUND SO GOOD

"and fix your hair."

"it's suppose to look like this!"

"are you trying to look like you got married in a wind tunnel?" BRO NOT ON HIS WEDDING DAY 💀

sam encouraging milo omgomg

"you talk more than anyone i know. and i know asher." AHAHHAHAHAHAHA

"is my tie on straight?" 

"is it ever?" is the one wearing it straight /jjjj

david helping him with his tie someone kill me right now

GABE'S CHILI RECIPE WHAT

"why did you pick me?" OH SHIT

i seriously just listened and payed attention to their conversation so no thoughts head empty only them

"what really mattered in a beta was having a person that was the other side of your coin."

"i picked you because you were the one person i trusted more than anyone else. you made me feel safe at a time more than i couldve explained. you were everything i wasnt. where i was distant you were outgoing. where i was rough you were warm. where i was analytical you were intuitive. you're the other side of my coin. you always have been. so it never mattered to me what anyone else thought of what i needed in a beta because they didnt know me. i did. you did. and i needed the person that was right for me not for anybody else."

i couldve typed out everything david said but THIS!!!! I WAS SOBBING!!!! THEY ARE THE OTHER SIDE OF OTHER'S COIN NEVER FORGET THAT!!!!!!!! their vows to each other fr

this is wrecking me THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH

"you're too hard on yourself too."

"well we had to have something in common other than destiny and smash bros, right?" the range of friendship everyone 

THEYRE HOLDING BACK TEARS IN THIS ONE TRUST ME 

my heart felt so heavy in this WHY

"i think you're the best fucking beta i could have ever asked for. i think you're the besy friend i could have ever asked for. i deserved most of the time."

aaaanndd got heavier 😁

GROUP HUG GROUP HUG GROUP HUG GROUP HUG GROUP HUG GROUP HUG GROUP HUG GROUP HUG GROUP HUG

"i just feel bad that i'm going to be up there looking this good y'know people are going to get confused on whose wedding day it really is." EAT EM UP SWEETHEART (i meant milo but them too ofc)

"do we get a step stool for behind the podium?" HAHSHAHAHAHHA THE CONCERN IN HIS VOICE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA

"i love you milo"

"i love you too asshole" CRYING 

"thank you for doing this milo"

"i got you. always." ALWAYS.

CEREMONY CEREMONY CEREMONY CEREMONY CEREMONY CEREMONY CEREMONY CEREMONY CEREMONY 

"when i was asked by my friends to officiate their unions, i only had one question for them: how much does it pay?" ASKING THE REAL QUESTIONS

im really listening on this part so head empty.

oohh asher (i think it's asher) laughing through baabe's vows IS SO SWEET I LOVE YOU AND I ALWAYS WILL

OH DAVID GETTING CHOKED UP ON ANGEL'S VOWS KILL ME

"you're the best part of me. and i'll spend the rest of our lives showing that i'm worthy of that." oh david shaw you dont even have to try

"i now pronounce you all married the-the pairs of you to each other not all together" OH THEY ARE NEVER GOING TO LET HIM LIVE THAT DOWN

THE KISSES OMMMGGGKFHEKHEJSS 

CONGRATULATIONS ANGEL & DAVID

CONGRATUALTIONS BABE & ASHER MWAAAAAAAAHH TO ALL OF YOUUU

[ragesingoddess]

OK so there was a dead poets society play in my city and I went to see it a couple of days ago and now that I'm somehow coherent and emotionally stable enough i want to talk about my favourite part of the adaptation.

The stage of the play was a kind of moving platform that rotated in a circle so that the change of the different sets and perspectives would become easier. During Neil's death scene he was standing on the front of the platform facing the audience, wearing his Puck crown just like the movie. However he was not alone in the scene. On his left side where the poets, having a meeting on their cave in the background incoherent at first just doing their thing in the background. On his right side stood Keating, his eyes always on Neil, standing at a certain distance as if a glass wall was preventing him from getting closer.

Neil starts narrating the words of the ending scene of midsummer's night dream, a bright, pained smile on his face, like he was trying to say his final lines the way he was supposed to, triumphant and brilliant.

As he is saying his lines he pauses at parts; giving room to the poets to start narrating poetry themselves, the platform rotating so that their meeting is the front view of the audience. Keating's eyes are still locked on Neil, looking desperate to reach out, to touch him, to help him, but he is still unable to do much of anything.

Neil however, gradually starts moving closer to the ports, standing in front of them, looking at them but of course unable to interact. They can't see him, but for those precious moments he can. He is with them in the cave ready to open his final meeting.

And then Charlie asks; "who wants to read who wants to read first tonight?"

And Todd volunteers. Todd who has been quiet in ever single meeting choosing to stick to Neil's side, Todd who always claimed he prefers listening, Todd who had his walls up enough to keep a distance from the boyish affection and belonging the rest of the boys offered, Todd who said to Neil 'You say things and people listen and im not like that ' and believed it, Todd speaks up and volunteers to read one of his own poems first. Because of the poets. Because of Neil.

The play gives Neil the chance to witness this. Moments before his death he watched from his own frozen spot Todd overcome his anxiety,throw down his walls and become the person Neil always encouraged him to be, the person he always believed him to be.

And Neil smiles. His brightest smile in the play, spliting his face in half, moved and amazed and oh, so, so proud.

The poets go quiet again, Neil finishes the rest of his lines, the poets start chanting a poem about life and then Neil pulls the trigger.

The play follows the movie almost scene to scene close after that. But that moment, that directing decision to give Neil the chance to see the impact he so clearly had on his friends and on Todd especially, felt almost like a delibarare choice to show to him that even though his choices broke him, even though he decided taking his own life was the only way, everything he spent his life advocating for is not gone with him; it lives inside the lives of every person that loves him. His friends will go on living without him but the impact he had on them will keep blooming inside their hearts because it has changed who they are. Because he changed them.

It felt like a final act of kindness to the boy who was always kind. A final gift to him to make his choice somewhat less painfull.

[dearweirdme]

how do u guys not see that taehyung is using jk and tkk for attention? he has consistently claimed things that then don’t align w what jk has said/reality. if they were actually together i dont think he would want to be drawing attention to their relationship the way he does. like when he said he recorded his album at jk’s house and jk helped direct it, that was SUCH an exaggeration and he knew it. and ofc jk had to clear up the situation stating that taehyung just randomly called him up one day asking if he could record some guides at his apartment studio and jk only gave him some advice here and there abt how he should sing some lines. taehyung always find some way to mention jungkook and single out their relationship when jk doesn’t do the same. and the whole “to find you” thing…there’s no way that that’s the legitimate and whole truth. taehyung worded in a way that would catch ppls attention when in reality im sure jk would just sing that song a lot in general cuz it was stuck in his head or something, not directly to/for taehyung. bc if they were actually together and jk sang that song FOR him, taehyung would not be out here divulging all that information. he would want to keep that secret bc that is something that would directly give them away. and w the story he posted of him and jk on instagram before enlisting. that was completely on purpose for attention bc why would u not post something for jimin as well who was also enlisting the same day when u know ppl will notice that. he knew we would notice he only posted for jk and that would get attention for being just him and jk. just at least admit that taehyung mentions a lot of stuff abt jungkook on purpose bc he knows ppl like to hear it and it gets him attention while also satisfying the fans/shippers

Hi anon!

Ah, so you see… but it’s just a bit too close for comfort for you and therefore, even though Tae has been described as ‘honest’, ‘innocent’, ‘most down to earth’, etc by members.. you think he has to be lying and faking and scheming about his bond with Jk. All the while Jk (and all members) continue to speak well about Tae, showing their love and support for Tae, keep hanging out with Tae and just continue as though him ‘using’ Jk is okay? You’d rather believe all that than think that maybe Tae and Jk actually do have a special connection? Geezzz, must suck to be you.

Jk is humble, what felt like Jk directing to Tae might’ve felt as too much credit to Jk. Tae is likely to boast about Jk’s capabilities, while Jk is likely to play things like that down. Tae wanted to make him shine, Jk wanted to return some of that shine to where he felt it belonged.

Why would there be any other explanation for Jk singing ‘To find you’? Why is it inconceivable to you (we all know why…. you are either homophobic or a Tae anti.. or both)? Nothing about Tae’s demeanor in that live shows any form of faking. He was melancholic. He wanted/needed to share a piece of himself. You forget that as a part of Tkk it is his right to share pieces more than it is our right to judge. He is the one who actually knows Jk on a level that very little people do (even when you think they aren’t together). So his judgement on whether it’s alright to share something about him and Jk will always trump ours.

I can only imagine the conflicting feelings that come with having to hide a relationship. I imagine the struggle between wanting to share the thing you are proud of and that is most important to you while also wanting/needing to keep it safe and hidden is a hard one. To me that fully explains why at times we see something more real, and why at times it seems as though they keep things from us.

He absolutely posted Jk on purpose! I think you should think on that some more anon!

[uhhhitsme]

for the song thingy! how about 63 if it hasn't been done yet? :]

OKAY this is good because the first one u sent in was 4. and the 4th song on my curtwen playlist is you belong to me. which im sure you already know the context for because of smys incredible wonderful stunning fanfiction.

this is very fitting to me because somehow, even though crane wives is like 90% of my curtwen playlist, youre the first person to rq a crane wives song!! and also i think this is the first owen focused analysis ive done for the song thing so im doubly excited!!!

anyways, this song is so painfully owen carvour coded it makes me sick. its about (as im sure you already know) someone who can never be direct or clear about who they are, who is a liar and hardly trusts anyone they're around. who is constantly wearing a mask.

what saf does really cleverly (imo) is creating two characters so unlike each other that you can't directly associate them with each other at all---even if there are hints to the truth. the owen carvour we see in a1p1 is collected, practical, and a bit cocky---he is presented as the "brains" to curts brawn (key word presented im not doing that thing where ppl say that curt was a stupid little dumb dumb who was always being taken care of by owen), the thing that pulls curt back from doing anything too out there. he's calm and rational throughout most of a1p1 until his plans are blown to bits. but the dma is the opposite. he's quick to anger and explosively violent, big and burly and nowhere near as put together as owen seems. he kills for no reason, acts on the spot without much plan, and is so drastically different from the man curt knew intimately for years that he cant recognise him.

and i do think that this completely different persona wasn't just a role, for owen. that in a way, it was an outlet. an escape from being the person who had been hurt as brutally as he was, something to help him to cope with the trauma. but i also think that this isn't his first time disappearing into a role so completely. like owen says himself, he could've been actor, but (supposedly) chose to use his talents in combination with his interest in foreign policy. i believe that as a spy, this was his greatest asset---his ability to play pretend.

so obviously, i can't help but associate these lines with him, especially considering his "roles" as a spy probably hurt a lot of people.

i keep my closet free of skeletons 'cause i'm much better at digging graves

i've gotten good at making up metaphors i've gotten good at stretching the truth out of shape and all these words are sweet and meaningless you can't trust a single thing i say

but to me, that's not all. for owen, i don't think it's just that he plays a role really well, and the moment his job is over he goes back to being himself. i think that he inhabits a mask even when he's supposed to be himself.

even after his reveal---even when owen is supposedly acting as himself, instead of playing up that role, its... very performative, as well. at first, he presents himself as uncaring, smug, completely detached from what he and curt had. he casually ribs curt about his very real grief and guilt over the past four years, pokes curts insecurities by describing him as a foolish, bumbling idiot who was never as good of a spy as owen was, "im going to have dinner with my NEW FRIENDS now" *dramatic hair flip.* this version of owen we see holds nothing but deep contempt for who curt is, and everything he represents. there is nothing complicated about it---his recklessness nearly killed him, and now that he has the chance he wants simple revenge.

but when we get to the staircase scene, both of them are worn out over (i think?) days of travel. and curt, desperate and still unravelling because of this new revelation, and he pleas with owen in a way that hits home. and we see him break from that controlled anger that he shows to the group when he first reveals himself. we hear the violent pain in his voice when he says they can't just go back to how things were, hear the trembling way he tells curt that whatever they had has died. that there's no saving them. we hear that it mattered, to him. we hear the grief.

and then curt kills him.

owen was an actor---not just in his work, but in his life. because he feels so much, cares so much, and he knew that vulnerability of his could be exploited. he knew that to trust anyone---to show the truth of himself, to give himself away the way he did with curt---was to set himself up for hurt. and after surviving all that he did, both as a spy and as a child growing up in WWII-era london, he couldn't let that happen again.

but i always dig up bones in your sympathy i can't trust a single thing you say

don't look too hard, 'cause you won't like the scars he left in me

i know that a lot of my analysis for the two of them is that "they both hid their vulnerabilities because they were gay men in the 1950s" but like. it's true. it does make up a significant part of their lives, and probably defined a lot of how they express themselves and acted at the time. and there's something to be said about the association of emotion with femininity---how owen presents himself as this logical, controlled character, traits typically associated with masculinity---whereas the sentimentality and love and emotion that he experienced because of curt is something that deviates from that reason. how owen probably tried his best to squash out his feeling, because he knows that being seen as something other than a traditional man is basically being seen as queer, because he was raised to be ashamed of it.

he put up so many walls and wore so many masks---to protect himself from that prosecution, and to protect himself from letting his emotions run the risk killing him. not that it worked lmao

tldr; this man cannot say anything directly and has more layers than a fucking onion, and i am incredibly normal about him.

[serve-cunt]

HELLO HOW DO I GET INTO TENNIS HOW DOES IT WORK

context: i read your landoscar tennis fic and thought “oh. OH. This is GREAT. now i wanna get into tennis but oh fuck, new interest scary.” and now im conflicted because i have been scrolling through your blog and this seems like a very fun and sexy sport to be a fan of but also How the Fuck does it work? like what’s the main objective, what’s everyone trying to do? im already a huge f1 fan, and i know the point there is to win grand prix’s and eventually a world championship, but is there a tennis equivalent to that? is it to win Wimbledon? or the Australian Open? Or the US open? WHAT EVEN IS A OPEN. I AM LOSING MY MIND. and like how do you play tennis? how to be a good tennis player, what are the defining characteristics? what the fuck is a drop shot and why is a man named jannik not allowed to do them or else you will get a heart attack? speaking of which, jannik sinner has floofy hair and baby girl vibes and a friendship with slightly homosexual undertones with Carlos altracatz and i WANT to know more about them but like AAAA and i also feel like tennis is harder to understand because it’s not as easily categorised as f1? idk if it makes sense but there’s only 20 f1 drivers and one championship and one aim, but i feel like tennis is SO much wider and there are so many levels and it’s HARD TO UNDERSTAND…… so if someone could give me a basic breakdown of how tennis works and how to be a tennis fan? that would be great? or like… point me in the direction of something that will explain it? because i can feel a new obsession coming on but also AAA CONFUSION?.?. PLEASE I AM BEGGING SOMEONE HELP, please explain the basics. i am so sorry about the rant. have a good day <3. i am in tears of confusion

ANON my GOD I think this is the best ask I've ever received ... you have SO many questions and I have SO many thoughts, thank you so much for trusting me with this I will do my best & then I'll link some tennis blogs

"What's everyone trying to do"

LMAOOO okay this is actually such a fun question and multi-layered

— so if you asked a tennis player I think most of them would give a small-ish goal (relative to their experience. lol)  like some of them are sooOOOoo boring and would just say "I take it one match at a time" blah blah, some players (ons jabeur my beloved) are transparent about wanting to win big tournaments, some players are close enough to being number one in the world that they are allowed to say "I want to be number one in the world" lmao. Being #1 is determined by ranking points btw!! which you earn by winning matches at tournaments on the ATP (men's) or WTA (women's) tour. Each round at a tournament earns you more points, i.e. if you get to the semi-finals you earn more ranking points than if you only get to the round of 16.

— wow that was too many words for a bullet point but basically: if you're good enough, you want to be #1 in the world by ranking points. There are also other goals like: win all majors in a single year (a "grand slam"), win the MOST majors compared to anyone else (djokovic holds the record currently at 24), etc.

"okay so what is a major??"

(sorry slightly rephrasing your q: what is an open — we'll get there — also sorry it's getting jargony)

— ATP/WTA tournaments happen at different levels, which affects how many ranking points are earned and how much money you get in prizes. At an ATP 250 you win 250 points for winning the final, at an ATP 500 you get 500, etc. At the Grand Slam tournaments you get 2000 (!!) points and, like, SOOooooo much money for winning. 

— There are four Grand Slam tournaments: in chronological order you've got the Australian Open (January), the French Open (also called Roland-Garros, it happens in May/June), Wimbledon (July), and the US Open (August/September). 

— "Open" means that the competition is open to professionals and amateurs, so a lot of the tournaments are called [name of city] open or [name of sponsor] open

AO and USO happen on hard court

Wimbledon is on grass

French is on clay

okay that's all boring facts but here's where it gets fun (2 meeee)

^ Wimbledon is ✨ SACRED✨. it has a bunch of strange/archaic rules that are taken very seriously (players have to wear white, silence during play is ENFORCED in capital letters, etc) and its history is vaunted & special ! as a result there is a lot of weight to winning wimbledon for a lot of people, like wimbledon is special even amongst tennis players. it's the only grass major and the grass season is SHORT so you have to find your feet real damn fast. of course there's some backlash to the weird mystical atmosphere of wimbledon which is also fun to watch .. kyrgios being an smarmy asshole about it and (maybe?) getting fined for example .. but honestly it's rightfully criticised for being a stick in the proverbial mud,,  speaking of mud ... 

^ the French Open is ✨BEAUTIFUL✨. it's a clay tournament, which means play is slower, and just .. the look of clay ... idk it punches me in the chest tbh not sure why. players slide around and get dirty and it's all so fun & lovely & GORG . clay season is my personal favorite season

^ the US Open is ✨FUN✨. it's in New York City (ayyyyyyooo) and the crowd is ROWDY in a way that is truly unparalleled, you can't beat the atmosphere for party-esque but some players (a lot of players) haaaaaAAaate it. Some people love it tho, Serena always loved it, Coco fricken adored it (helps if you're american LOL)

^ the Australian Open is .. uh, hm. Happy? tbh I miss most of the AO every year because it's in an exactly opposite time zone from me. it's like a warm-up slam. LOL SORRY. somebody can correct me if they feel strongly ... >.>  it's also called the happy slam, it has a huge turn out every year so it must be fun!! play is very quick. jannik won this year :)))))))))))

"What's a drop shot"

— SooooOOO now we're getting into actual play jargon ... basically different shots have different names, forehand is when you hit a ball with the palm of your dominant hand facing forward, backhand is when your palm faces your chest ... I won't describe every shot because probs a video is more helpful for that? but:

— a drop shot is a ball hit so that it drops very close to the net on your opponent's side. basically if your opponent is waaaaay at the back of the court (maybe you've been rallying for a while and they got comfy) you can try and hit a ball short so that they can't get to it before it bounces twice. it's risky!!! if you attempt a drop shot you're probably pretty close to the net: if your opponent DOES get to it and hit it back, they're probably going to hit it behind you, and you won't have time to run behind it to get a racket under it.

"what are the defining characteristics of a good player"

— WOOF. okay. speed, for sure. but fast-twitch speed: can you get to the ball quickly? can you react to where it lands on the court and how it pops up? once you've hit it, can you get back into position before it comes back to you two seconds later? if you're up close to the net because you attempted a drop shot and your opponent gets to the ball & hits it behind you, can you back up real fast and attempt a "tweener" (when you hit a ball backwards through your legs) ? etc. You have to do a lot of movement around a small-ish space quickly, tennis players do a lot of short, high-intensity practices to prepare — athleticism!! tennis is an all-body sport:  do you have the lungs to keep running for a three hour match? do you have the leg strength to keep you jumping around that long? do you have the shoulders for a strong serve, arms for big ground-strokes?  (tennis players are fucking HOT lmao)

— creativity ! you can have the best arms ever and still lose because you play the same shot over and over and over and over and over and your opponent learns this and hits something that throws you off your rhythm. The best players (and most interesting to watch) can play far from or close to the net, are trying new things, are HAVING FUN (carlos alcaraz e.g.) 

— elegance ... idk some players just float .. they do all of the above but make it look so EASY

"there are only 20 drivers in f1 and there are so many tennis players HOW"

— no, valid. basically this tumblr post about how every so often there's a new tennis guy and I'm like "wait, who?" . I think everyone on tennisblr picks their faves and follows them closely, and then depending on your level of interest you pick up other faves along the way??  I got into tennis in the federer/nadal era so I'm a federer girl, in the WTA I'm smitten for serena (who isn't) with almost equal soft spots for Naomi Osaka and Ash Barty. Nowadays I follow jannik sinner like i'm a dog who's found a weird lanky carrot-flavored bone. i follow alcaraz because he's beautiful to watch, truuuuuly beautiful. i follow daniil medvedev because he's inSANE and a cunt but fun about it. I follow iga sviatek (my love) and coco gauff (my love [american]) because they're incredible and fun, ostapenko because she's ridic, muchova because she hits so pretty, daria because I want her to marry me <3 

^ one more obligatory jannik picture lol

— just on the subject of relating things to f1: the one thing that I really miss in tennis now that I've been following f1 for a bit is how the idea of a "team" just doesn't really exist. tennis players play doubles sometimes but even on a doubles team you're really playing for yourself, you don't get team support, that's not really a thing?? if you're a really good singles player you prioritize singles play, and often you play across the net from your doubles partner and obviously in that case you want them to lose??? like to a greater extent than f1 drivers want their teammate to lose, because tennis is truly zero-sum in a way that f1 isn't, quite.  this makes all tennis players feel kinda lonely and anti-social LOL and uhhh sometimes they actually are I think, like a lot of tennis players are super introverted and strange. i'm sure you see this in other sports this is just me comparing my two obsessions

woof ok idk if you're still reading but if you are!! some tennis blogs i can recommend off the absolute top of my head are: @sincaraz @tennis-shenanigans @mythicalpoolnoodle @scarletwitch1918 @fritzes @zhengqinwen @mayor-amor @vilebodiess @advantage-sinner (sorry this will catapult you into sinner tumblr) and they can probs rec more !! they can also correct me if i got something wrong!

as for basics, I think just watching some matches to start ! with commentary on so you know what's happening, also if you ever feel like sliding into my DMs ... they are SO open (heh) for new tennis fans :))