#rightfully and wrongly

[mekanikaltrifle]

No hate to anyone I know that likes our flag means death but how is it still such a popular trending tag after the whole billboard embarrassment?

If I were in fandom I would be hiding under a rock by now, but to be fair I think a me who was into fandom would be a very different person lmao

[wikipedie]

The way Merlin is a tragedy disguised as a comedy

[dulcewrites]

I kind of want to see FMO reader in a revenge dress when Aemond finally sees her again. Not going to lie there is a part of me that wants him to want her again

I do wonder what her revenge dress would be. Another purple one?? Since her other dress moment got horribly ruined 😭🥹. Targaryen red and black? Interesting choice considering viserys’ passing and the assumed heir coming back for her throne. Maybe something more structured and put together. Reader likes whismisical, flowy looks for her dresses. So perhaps her next fashion era something like this. Or even later seasons Daenerys (from pics I have seen). Structured, demur colors, but also still fashionable and feminine with the cut and accents. Implementing coat dresses in with the straight gowns

[gender-euphowrya]

y'all can't be like "yay trans rights support trans people end transphobia ❤️" and then forget how to read the second trans people of All kinds tell you they're uncomfortable with your kewl girlboss misandry

[balrogballs]

i'm a writer irl (can't say who because my agent would rightfully put me into a blender and press the button if i go and out myself as "balrogballs") and honestly the funniest and most humiliating incident of my life was the time my finished manuscript triggered a plagiarism flag with the publisher for two lines of prose in my literary fiction novel...

.... which was word for word similar to a paragraph in a certain explicit work on FFN starring elrond and his batsman from the hobbit films, aka that one elf that looked like he ate panic attacks for breakfast (i forget his name but it's Figwit II) where the lord of imladris bends said twink over his writing desk and gives him the battering ram treatment.

and if you think i had to sit in front of one if the biggest publishing companies in the world and admit that it was, in fact, me who wrote the fic where the lord of imladris bends said twink over his writing desk and gives him the battering ram treatment in order to avoid being wrongly flagged for plagiarism, you would be absolutely correct.

(yes they published the book)

[bbeeohazardd]

fandoms stop making drama out of nothing challenge (IMPOSSIBLE)

[anisdolly]

・ 。.・゜✭・.・✫ . ✭・.・✫・✭ .・゜・。.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ STRICTLY 18+.

dom!anakin, lightsaber hilt used…wrongly, dirty talking, degrading

・ 。.・゜✭・.・✫ . ✭・.・✫・✭ .・゜・。.

anakin would be the most unhinged bastard you ever met, honestly. i have this thing in my mind that while you’re spread upon his messy bed, open and ready for him to take what’s rightfully his, he would look down at that body that’s damn perfect to his eyes—doesn’t fucking matter how you see yourself—and snarl in the vain attempt to not groan at the simple sight. his hands would travel everywhere, trying to feel a bit satiated but vainly. and then a bulb would lit in his mind. with a grin that told more than you needed to know, this insatiable fucker would reach for the lightsaber hanging from that utility belt you find so damn arousing from some reason, put it in safe mode and grind the metal against your pussy that was just made to fit him—no, to be fair, it barely fit him.

“you like it, yeah? that’s what i thought.” he would taunt, glancing at how your legs spread beneath each slide and pressure of the weapon that, in a different way than it’s usual usage, was becoming your damn death. “mmhm, i can smell how fucking horny you are. realize you’re this creamy from being touched by a weapon that slaughtered many? you’re such a pathetic, little and heartless slut for that.” the way his voice would sound low despite it being always whiny…so fucking hot. though, it was a whiny that made your legs tighten each time you heard it, even during council meetings. god, you’d really be such a whore for feeling like that, and that bastard of anakin would’ve known.

[skywalkr-nberrie]

It’s so wild how many fic writers in this fandom still tag in their fics (which are wrongly tagged as Anidala) that Clovis is Padmé’s “ex lover” in ones which include his character.

Canonically this false interpretation has long been debunked in Queen’s Shadow where it’s revealed that Padmé never associated herself to Clovis in anyway. He wasn’t even a friend of hers for most of it, and even then he made things worse by forcing a kiss on her. She didn’t want anything to do with him for more than half the book, and made her hate him by it’s end, lol.

Clovis was always the one chasing after her while she made her feelings and stance clear that she’s not interested in him. The book often hints at her aggravation and irritation of him many times. And at the end, after she’s reluctantly agreed to work with him, and they’ve passed a bill together, he completely ruins their new found friendship by being his usual “creepy” self to which Padmé (rightfully) angrily tells him off. Then going forward she broke off all contact with him. No romantic feelings or relationship in sight.

Even way before the Queen’s Trilogy came out, the VA to Padmé in TCW (Catherine Taber) confirms in a podcast once (Coffee with Kenobi #25) that Padmé never once harboured any romantic feelings for Clovis. Even confirms that they only had a relationship where they were friends and nothing more.

[alicentflorent]

The people need to understand that Maelor wasn't a random baby. He was the heir of Aegon Targaryen. He was the breaking point of Helaena's sanity.

Their deaths lead to Rhaenyra's downfall and Daeron's arc

There is a reason why Condal and Hess want them cut(and let's not start with Nettles): They didn't want their kween under a bad light, being criticized.

Exactly. I’m tired of people saying stuff like “he’s just another baby that died!” Like his death isn’t relevant and his role in the story didn’t matter. He was targeted for being Aegon’s heir and as George pointed out his role alone might be minor and seemingly irrelevant but his impact on the show creates a butterfly affect that leads to the death of helaena, Daeron burning down villages over the cruelty of his death and the downfall of Rhaenyra. Even the smaller impacts he had like making blood and cheese even more heart wrenching and Ser Rickard giving his life while trying to save and protect this child. People really need to actually read and understand the point grrm is making in his post instead of wilfully ignoring and twisting it.

I agree. They seem to be cutting characters and plotlines (or at least lessening their impact) that paint Rhaenyra in a bad light which does such an injustice to her character and it’s insulting to think that Rhaenyra had to actually be the good, loving queen who did everything right but was wrongly portrayed by history to be a worthy and valid protagonist. She’s not allowed to be messy, entitled or problematic in any way even after the death of her children something that should rightfully make her vengeful and bring out her darker side.

[cheriecelestial]

Paper Rings

disclaimer *:･ﾟ���*:･ﾟ✧ angst (?), canon typical violence, gore (?), crude humour, strong language, typos, grammatical errors, cliché moments

genre *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ drama, romance, action-thriller, fantasy

a/n *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ based on this one dream i had and also cuz pjo was my first comfort series and jjk is my current one (only s1)

╰ ┈➤ Chapter List

╰ ┈➤ Master list

Chapter One

Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.

If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now. Believe whatever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal

life. Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.

If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think it's fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened.But if you recognize yourself in these pages - if you feel something stirring inside - stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it's only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they'll come for you.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

My name is Gojo Kanao . Age fourteen, raised in Tokyo, Japan . As the youngest family member of the Gojo clan , niece of the Gojo Satoru and an aspiring sorcerer - my life was going as perfectly as it rightfully should . Except my uncle got a call from an old family friend three weeks back and before I knew it I were to pack my bags and enroll in a 'summer camp' meant for 'children like me' . And that's really funny because apart from my uncle , I'm pretty much one of a kind . It's not like ever other generation has a six eyes user gifted with limitless. My existence is what most people call an 'anomaly in the power balance of the world' and sparked much debate amongst higher ups but it stopped bothering me after a point considering how uncle Satoru threatens to decimate any person that as much as dared look at me wrongly .

He took me in after my father died when I was four and him eighteen . Following my father's death , the Gojo clan was pretty much reduced to me and uncle since not much was known about my birth mother . The first time my uncle got to know that he, in fact , not only had a sister in law but also a niece from his absentee elder brother was when the fore mentioned "family friend" came knocking to at the Gojo Clan's door with a drooling four year old with white pigtails in tow .

As much as a shock it must've been to know that he was now a single father , uncle or as I call him Satoru nii-san , seemed to have developed a knack for parenting much too quickly with his reasoning being 'the baby looks like mini me and I vibe with that' . And as he liked to say to me and my also-adopted siblings Megumi and Tsumiki Fushiguro "having you kids just adds to my dilf appeal" followed by Megumi deadpanning at him , Tsumiki awkwardly smiling and me audibly gagging. Needless to say , he isn't much liked and not even half as tolerable as he considers himself to be.

"How could you do this to me ?" I mumbled while my eyes trailing the silhouette of the trees passing rapidly by my car windows . Almost inaudible cursing was what my opposition was shamefully reduced to . After much fights , screaming , crying , scratching and attempts at running away I was forced to join this camp . His description of the camp with strawberry fields , flying horses , Greek gods and half goat people was enough for Megumi to call bullshit on it however I couldn't deny its existence because that's where I grew up from birth to age four.

" Nyao-chan , this is the 33rd time you're saying this in the past fifteen hours of flight time . Do better" I could feel nii-san rolling his eyes from the front seat .

" Toru nii don't call me that" I hissed back at him and turned my face with 'hmph' so that maybe , just maybe I could appeal to his conscience. I remember that place and it wasn't particularly unpleasant and under normal circumstances I would really like visiting . However , he simply refused to understand just how it would derail my development as a sorcerer , quoting ' your development as a demigod is just as fundamental to your growth as your development as a sorcerer . Take it as a learning experience. Have fun and for the love of god make some friends that aren't the fushiguros or your pet snake .'

My previous attempt at socialising ended up with the boy calling me a brat and me activating my cursed technique for the first time in attempt to kill him , stunning breakthrough but not a suitable first impression. That meeting ended well for their family and the incident was ruled out as a 'all is well that ends well' . And after that I decided that I had enough and rated the experience 2 stars , do not recommend . 

" I mean looking at how much you like small spaces , scratching and hissing you might as well be one . But hey cheer up ! you're going to see your Chiron sensei and Dino oji-san again . Won't it be fun ? Childhood memories all coming back to you. Plus I've heard summer camps are really fun." He shrugged with his emphasis on the names causing me to cringe inwardly .

" What sort of summer camp runs in November ?" I retorted followed by him sighing . It was much later that I found out that my 'Dino oji-san' was actually Dionysus , the Greek god of wine. I could only imagine the emotions he must've felt holding a toddler in his lap , butchering his name to her convenience. The embarrassment of the memory just made me even more unwilling to go . Our satyr chauffeur said we were fifteen minutes away from camp so of course going back wasn't an option.

Before I knew it , the car came to a screeching halt in the middle of road . There was nothing but an empty road ahead surrounding by dense vegetation on either sides . " What happened ? " I asked leaning forward. The saytr looked at me and blinked . Then I realised I forgot to switch to English while talking . Except for my struggles with dyslexia, English was fairly easy to learn . I credited Satoru nii's obsession of Friends and Britney Spears for this but learning , in general , was something that came naturally to me . I never had to try too hard to learn a skill and it puzzled others and even me . Apparently this was the trait of a true Gojo . Being godly perfect . It applied to everything but my cursed energy technique . Sometime back I realised I reached a plateau of my skills  and no matter what method I employed , my growth remained stagnant . Maybe that's why he's sending me here .

" She meant why did we stop ?" Nii-san asked .

" We're here" The saytr plainly replied . I looked around in confusion because I saw nothing . He asked us to follow him , and with luggage in hand , so we did .

After a small hike through the woods , we reached a big stone arch . It was partially of wood and stone and looked really old with greek symbols carved at the top and several cracks and moss . I stared at the sign and noticed that the letters began to rearrange themselves . At first I thought it was my dyslexia acting up but the Greek symbols rearrange themselves to spell out the letters 'CAMP HALFBLOOD' .

"You look surprised. What do you see Kana ?" He looked at me . I explained my observations and he smirked and muttered something to himself .

I extended my hand and much like how jujutsu curtains worked by hand went passed the barrier emitting a faint blue light . " Nii-san you try it " I gestured him to do the same . The barrier pulsated against his hand as if resisting his touch . With a faint smile , he retracted his hand and said to the saytr " This barrier is stronger than I expected . I'm impressed"

"Nii-san if you were to break through , how long would it take ?" I asked out of curiosity . If you were to ask anyone to describe Gojo Satoru in one word the word would be 'strongest' . Once he put enough effort into it there was no barrier he couldn't break nor there was any curse he couldn't exorcise . " Hmmm it's strong I'll give it that . But we wouldn't want to endanger a camp worth of kids, right ?" I shrugged in a 'makes sense' gesture.

"It's just her from this point on. You can't go inside." The saytr said. Yeah we noticed. Satoru- nii clapped his hands and smiled," Just give us two minutes. You know I need time to see off my precious baby." The saytr blinked and moved out of earshot wordlessly. Satoru nii cupped my face and cooed as if he was on the verge of crying. I rolled my eyes at his dramatic display," you didn't feel any remorse for the last few days and you're crying now ?"

"It's not easy ! I knew I had to let my baby bird out of the nest because that's what's best for you but I -" his bottom lip wobbled and I was hit with a sense of guilt. I sighed and hugged him," I'll miss you too. I'll be fine."

"Call me everyday you hear me ? And eat and sleep well. Oh my god I'm starting to sound like an old woman !" Gojo Satoru was one man who liked to completely disregard the fact that me, Megumi and Tsumiki had mother -albeit absent, and very seriously behave as if he was the one who carried us around for nine months and birth us. But hey, who doesn't like being coddled ?

I rolled my eyes and gave him the signature Gojo smirk," I'll be just fine, don't you worry."

" I know. You'll be fine. Always. You'll be better than me, I know it." Satoru nii-san's voice dropped to a low and almost wistful whisper. " Even though you're the best there is ?" I asked offering him a kind smile. To that he said something in a tone  I didn't expect hearing from him. "You've inherited only my powers , I don't want you to inherit my tragedies too ." The statement left a bad taste in my mouth. People often assumed that since he was the strongest, he had it easy. It’s people like him that suffer the most, so much so that sometimes it has you wishing you didn’t have power at all.

"And lastly. Don't kill anyone, and even if you do. Get rid of witnesses and call nii-san first, Nii-san will take care of it." I raised my brow in questioning. Firstly, shouldn't he be teaching his kid to be nice to other people or something and second of all why is he referring to himself in third person.

"Shouldn't you be saying 'dont bully people and be nice' or something ?" Though what he said wasn't the first of its kind. My brother Megumi had a track record of beating up people in his school but Nii-san never saw a problem because the people he beat up were hardly innocent and he never lost a fight so that was no shame brought to the family name.

"If there's anyone you think shouldn't be alive. Then they shouldn't be. This world is ours, the others are just living in it." One thing that everyone knew what that Gojo Satoru was a firm believer of the Gojo family supremacy. And he's not wrong. "Then what about those sleazy higher-ups ?" I quipped. I knew of his grand plan to demolish the old reign and establish a new jujutsu world, the reason he became a teacher. It was something I looked forward to since the day he showed me the dream of it, but for that I had to get stronger. To become more, to become unstoppable. So I would gladly accept any wisdom the Greeks had to offer and make sure that by the time I’m done here, I’ll be the strongest demigod they’ve had the honour of laying their eyes upon.

“All in due time Kana-chan.”

Taglist: @kentply / @sleepykittycx / @yourpersonalgaybird

[leviathans-watching]

what assumptions make

day 1: fluff, misunderastandings

includes: lucifer & mammon

wc: .7k | rated g | m.list

a/n: monday's post for @ombrotherlylove2023!!

Lucifer sighs in exhaustion, pulling his coat off. The meeting had gone way longer than he had expected, and after an already busy day, it had utterly wiped him out. At least now he’s home. And at least Diavolo recognized the toll he was placing upon him, giving him the next morning off, much to Lucifer’s relief. He really should still attend the meeting that’s scheduled, as it is his duty, but that’s something to think about tomorrow.

It’s quiet, which is unsurprising for the late hour. It’s late enough that his brothers are all probably settled into bed, and he wonders if they left him any leftovers. It was Mammon’s turn to cook so he at least knows the food will be edible, which, while good in terms of having to eat what was made, decreases the chances of there being any left for him to actually eat. He’ll look after he’s changed out of his day clothes, and maybe even showered. He should shower, but he’s just so tired. 

No, he needs to get the day’s grime off of him.

Moving quietly through the house and down the hall, Lucifer heads toward his room. Pausing outside the cracked door, Lucifer frowns. Hadn’t he left that closed? The sound of shuffling then grabs his attention and he strains his ears. Someone’s taken it upon themselves to invade his privacy and he has a good idea of the culprit. Normally, anger would swell up inside of him, but he’s just too tired…

Pushing open the door, Lucifer crosses his arms. It looks as if his suspicions are correct. “Mammon,” he says, and his brother jumps guiltily, pausing his apparent search of Lucifer’s dresser.

“Oh,” Mammon laughs nervously, “hey, Lucifer. How’s it goin’?” He’s in his pajamas, and Lucifer notes, almost absently, that the shirt he’s wearing is an old one of Beel’s. 

“Why are you in my room?” Lucifer asks, then holds up a hand. “Nevermind, I don’t want to hear your excuses. Just… put back whatever it is that you’ve taken and get out.” 

Mammon swallows. “I haven’t taken anything.” 

Yet, probably. It’s a good thing Lucifer got back when he did. 

“Right,” Lucifer snorts. Normally, he’d push harder than this, but he’s just too exhausted. He’ll do a thorough search of his belongings the next day. “But fine. Now, remove yourself from my space.” 

Mammon takes his cue and departs quickly, giving him one last look over his shoulder as he leaves. His eyes are filled with something unusual but Lucifer really can’t put in the effort to dissect it, instead readying himself for a shower. He’s got a building headache and hopes the warmth of the water will help keep it at bay. 

After mustering up the energy to wash himself after several minutes of just standing there, Lucifer turns the water off. He exits his bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, and flicks on the light in his room. His headache is worsening, and all he wants is to eat and then to fall into bed. But going to the kitchen sounds like a real pain, and he wishes he had something in his room. Maybe he should get a minifridge like some of his brothers had; that would certainly make things easier. 

But also give his brothers more chances to take things from him, unfortunately. 

Something on his dresser, where Mammon was, catches his attention. Lucifer moves closer. It seems to be a bottle of painkillers and a wrapped plate. Lucifer inspects it and finds three clumsily-shaped onigiris. If these were here and nothing obvious was missing…

Lucifer sighs as his chest fills with warmth. How wrongly he had pegged Mammon. 

In this one instance. 

Even though he was acting upon rightfully held suspicions, Lucifer feels bad. Mammon did this, acted with surprisingly good and kind intentions every once in a while, at the most unexpected of times. He had a way of knowing what Lucifer needed without him even having to say anything, something that served Lucifer well.

He’ll have to apologize properly in the morning. But for now, there’s no harm in indulging in Mammon’s care–taking the medication, eating the food, and then falling right into bed, falling asleep before his head even hits the pillow. 

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[sapphic-agent]

I really want to understand, why does part of the fandom keep saying that Bakugou is a victim of the situation, like where did they see this? Then his stans keep saying that we are the ones who read the manga wrongly.

People will do anything to defend their favorites.

Bakugou isn't a victim of Izuku. They are firmly in the roles of abuser and victim, roles that Bakugou himself designated.

People, rightfully, see Bakugou as the monster that he is. So in an effort to make him seem more sympathetic, his fans create this false narrative. And anyone who disagrees is "bashing a victimized child" or whatever they tend to spout these days.

I actually ran into some of that here when I first made my account. A Bakugou stan hated Izuku and kept trying to push the narrative that Izuku was to blame for him and Bakugou's toxic relationship. And that's really laughable.

The only thing Izuku is guilty of is enabling Bakugou. But he never stalked or harassed Bakugou like these people like to claim. If you want to get technical, it was Bakugou who continuously harassed him and eavesdropped on his conversations. In every situation, Bakugou is the toxic abusive one

[yeowangies]

Hideous Heart

❧

PAIRING: Vegeta/AFAB!Reader RATING: Explicit CONTENTS: Medieval Fantasy AU, Explicit Sexual Content. WARNINGS: Overstimulation, Blood, Gore, Werecat!Reader. WORDCOUNT: 2098

Summary:

Vegeta captured the wrong woman.

Notes:

For kinktober! This is horror themed, and explicitly so. This is also a medieval fantasy AU, but I don't go into detail about it.

(the ending is inspired by the tell tale by edgar allan poe.)

CW: Gore and Blood.

Day 26: Overstimulation

You have been sitting in a cold, humid cell for a few days before Prince Vegeta paid you a visit. 

Though it wasn’t an actual visit, but more like an interrogation. 

He looked at you with contempt, nose held high as he stared down at you. Who were you? Where did you come from? Were you human? He pestered you about it until he realized you were only going to be as honest as he was with you, and while he was sincere, he twisted words in his mouth and didn’t answer your own questions directly. Mocking you. 

You could hold your own. No man had ever treated you the way he had without you getting him right back, but you could only do so much while you were imprisoned, hands tied in a dirty, stinky cell. 

Vegeta had his own reasons to not trust you. A woman alone in a forest known for its magical creatures was suspicious, you were either suicidal or a monster yourself. The Saiyans were a proud race, and the Prince wasn’t an idiot. You could be a calamity, or a good tool for him; he had been constantly asking you about your powers. You hadn’t given him a straight answer about yourself or why you were in that forest to begin with, and he had been reducing the food you were given daily in retaliation. 

If anything, he was persistent. 

The footsteps on the corridor alerted you of his presence that night, and when he walked in, the beating of his heart made you look up at him. 

“Woman, you have been starving for days,” Vegeta’s cold, sneering tone made you wince. “What are you hiding that you’d rather die of hunger than speak?”

“Hiding?” You replied, smirking smugly, as you sat on the floor, underneath the only window in the small room. “You’re the only one who thinks that. You’re just paranoid, unsurprisingly in a member of the royal family.”

“What?” He frowned. 

“Terrified of someone attempting to steal the crown that rightfully belongs to you? I have no other doubt about why you keep me locked up here. You think I’m tricking you? A sign that you’re the weak link in your line?”

“Do you wanna be beheaded right this instant?” Vegeta’s eyes gleamed with anger in the dimly lit room, making you chuckle. He had been easy to provoke. 

“You’re already making me starve. It isn’t logical that you also want me to lose my head.” You replied, resting your head against the cold wall. 

The muscles in his jaw and neck tensed, the veins bulging, and you had to keep yourself from laughing in his face. That would surely get yourself killed in a second. You saw him breathing in and out slowly, trying to keep his composure, and you smiled warmly. 

“I have spoken wrongly of you because you have hurt my honor.” You started, staring into his eyes. “Perhaps we should start over. I do not wish to die.”

Vegeta’s smirk gave you relief; he liked what you were saying. You weren’t begging or asking for forgiveness, but that’s probably what he heard in your words anyway. 

“Are you asking for leniency now? You think I’d be more considerate with you like this?”

“I do not know, my lord. I have no chance of proving to you that I’m not a bad omen for your kingdom, but I’ll do my best.”

His eyebrow quirked at your words, obviously skeptical. He wasn’t a complete fool, but you still offered him another smile. 

“How do you intend to prove it?” Vegeta asked, looking at you up and down as you shrugged. 

“Sit with me, my lord,” You offered, signaling with your hands to the dirty floor in the room. “Talking without threats is a good start.”

Vegeta didn’t budge, only stared down at you with the same disdainful look he’d been having since the moment he saw you. There was no doubt in his heart that you were mischievous, and it wouldn't be easy to convince him of the contrary. 

But you had patience, and you were confident in your abilities to at least momentarily make him change his mind. 

“My lord,” You went on, looking down at your feet. “The Saiyans are a proud race, strong, belligerent. I might have misspoken when I assumed you were paranoid. The kingdom had been under your family’s ruling for generations. A single woman, alone, in the middle of the forest would be enough to make all that go to waste?”

“You speak too much and with pretentious confidence.” Vegeta scorned, immovable. 

“I am starving, I can only endure this for a couple of days before succumbing.” You sighed, eying him up and down. 

The prince wasn’t tall, just about your height, but his presence, his military uniform and even his aura, made him seem taller. You knew he was strong even beyond that, too. Your insides turned instantly as your gaze went back up to meet his, staring at him through hooded lids. 

“Perhaps I should let you see for yourself that I’m not hiding anything.”

“What are you implying?”

Vegeta remained still as you stood up, tugging at your clothes the best you could to let your dress fall down. He seemed to be entertained by your mere attempts at getting naked in front of him once he noticed your intentions. 

“Is this what you’re offering? And you think I’d be stupid enough to fall for this trick?” Vegeta asked with a smirk.

“My hands are tied.” You smiled, showing them to him as if he hadn’t already seen them. “You’re a warrior and I’m a mere human. I have the most to lose.”

Once you let your dress loose enough, you wiggled to make it fall, pooling at your feet, the cold air hitting your skin, creating goosebumps. Whatever Vegeta was saying before didn’t matter once you his heated gaze roamed your body. At least he wasn’t made of ice; he was still a man even through all the military decorum he showed. Your skin burned underneath his gaze, and you smirked, completely pleased.

It took a few long seconds for him to approach, and you were surprised when the first thing he did was tug at your arm, yanking you towards him. You winced but didn’t complain, especially not when he suddenly untied your hands, breaking the chain around them effortlessly. 

“Lie down on the bed.” 

You did as you were told, resting your hands on your stomach as Vegeta loomed over you, watching you with predatory eyes. 

He hadn’t been easy to seduce if you count all the previous days he had visited you, expecting a confession about your true nature. But this was the first time you actually made a move like this on him; a girl had to eat after all. And Vegeta was still a man. When he removed the glove on his hand and pressed it on your chest, tracing down your abdomen, you noticed the faint blush on his cheeks. 

Adorable. 

The slick sound of his fingers finding the sensitive skin between your legs only made you hum expectantly. 

“What a lewd little woman, you’re like this and I barely even touched you.” Vegeta sneered, amused. 

You refused to answer, only spreading your legs more as he kept teasing your entrance, sliding two fingers in at once, making your thighs twitch. You moaned the more he played with you; he was doing it for his own entertainment, but the more you squirm, the more turned on he got. You could see it in his eyes, hear it in his heartbeat. 

When Vegeta rubbed circles into your clit, it only took you a couple of minutes before you reached your peak, arching your back as your eyes rolled back in delight. Your legs shivered when he didn’t let up, making you whimper as he kept pressing his digits inside you just right. You held tightly onto his arm, trying to push him away or keep him close, you weren’t sure, but his chuckle reached your ear as you looked at him through glossy eyes. 

“Maybe you’re a mere human, just like you said.” Vegeta smirked, flashing his teeth like he couldn’t wait to sink them into your flesh. 

When he finally pulled away his hand, you hummed, rubbing your thighs together in an effort to alleviate yourself from the heat you still felt inside. The skin between your legs tingled when you saw him taking off his armor before pulling down his pants just enough to free his erection. Your mouth watered at the sight, his thick cock bouncing when he climbed onto your bed, positioning himself between your legs as you reached for him. 

Vegeta slapped your hands away, obviously not one for affection, not even during sex (you should have known), holding your legs open with one hand as he pumped his cock a few times before pushing inside you. He spared you no sympathy, sheathing himself fully inside you promptly, making you gasp as he started ramming his cock into you, using you for his own benefit.

You held tightly onto the bed when he started moving his hips, moaning and yelping with every single thrust. He obviously did not care for you, digging his fingers into the skin of your thighs as he kept up with his unforgiven pace, grunting like an animal seeking his own pleasure. With his size he pleased you nonetheless, stretching you delightfully and stroking that sweet spot inside you with every snap of his hips. 

You couldn’t help your orgasm from washing over you a second time, it was inevitable after Vegeta had made you come already just a few minutes ago. Your whole body shivered, and he pinned your hands to the mattress, grunting when he felt your muscles clenching around his cock. 

“You have no shame, are you that desperate?” Vegeta groaned, smirking down at you with the same air of superiority he’d been sporting since the moment you ever saw him. 

You couldn’t care less, and only offered him a half smile, moaning breathlessly once he picked up the pace again. 

Saiyans were known for their strength, and it was obvious their stamina would last this long. Vegeta didn’t let up, and with every orgasm he made you reach, you felt your body gain more vitality, as if you were reborn. Your body couldn’t stop trembling, moving on its own accord, trying to get him to keep going, even when your mind was completely blank, overstimulation leaving you speechless. 

His heart was beating loudly inside his ribcage, you could hear it loud and clear as he was finally nearing the edge. His hips stuttered, grunts and groans coming out in short gasps. It was a sight to see when he finally came, brows furrowed and mouth open slightly. Letting go of your hands to grip your thighs as he emptied himself inside you, his cum filled you so much that it overflowed, making you gasp and shudder. 

You grinned contently, sighing as you basked in the afterglow of such an encounter for a second, watching Vegeta catch his breath, his hands still holding tightly onto your legs while his cock throbbed inside you. 

His heart, beating erratically in his chest, called for you, and the nails in your hands elongated, turning into dark claws, fingers and hands growing wider and larger. It only took you a split second to drill into his chest, so fast the Prince didn’t even see it coming. Hilarious, considering his race was supposed to have such high senses.

Not as high as your own people, though. 

His body jerked back, eyes opened wide as you held his heart in your hand. The blood from the wound started dripping immediately, and you drew your hand back, leaving a literal hole in his body. You doubted how conscious he could be when you had his heart in your hand, but his eyes followed as you smiled widely at him. Sharp fangs adorned your grin, muscles and bones in your jaw accommodating to help you open your mouth wider. 

The hair on your head stood on end as your ears grew up, pointing upwards, and when Vegeta looked at you (was he even looking?), a tail from your lower back appeared, swaying enthusiastically. 

“I was starving.” You commented before taking a bite out of his heart, spilling blood all over yourself as you chew. “I finally don’t have to listen to it. The beating of your hideous heart.”

[imrllytootiredforthis]

Deep Breaths

pairing: yeonjun x reader

summary: you come home early from work in a horrible mood and yeonjun tries to comfort you

warnings: kind of angsty, a lot misplaced anger, a bit suggestive near the end but nothing actually happens

word count: 1.6k

a/n: i made it really angsty, so i'm sorry if this wasn't the kinda thing you wanted; i feel like i accidentally projected a lot into this and hope it's still okay for you

from the anon request here, i hope you feel better soon

your day was shit.

it's been like that for awhile. tons of little things, built up and up and it was finally your breaking point.

the door slammed open as you made your way in, roughly kicking your shoes off and trying, trying so hard to ignore the burning in your eyes.

"(Y/N)? is that you?"

fuck.

you hadn't expected yeonjun to be at home. he was supposed to be at work right now but obviously wasn't seeing as he stretched across the couch so he could smile at you from where he lay.

"why're you home so early? i thought you were working a full shift today."

you closed your eyes and took deep breaths, trying to keep yourself in check. trying to hold your anger from bubbling up with wrongly placed fury.

but then you saw all the dirty dishes he'd left in the sink and all over the counter.

one of your biggest pet peeves, something you've told him, it must've been close to a million times by now, to wash and put away when he was done with.

and not let it pile up to the point it was now.

deep breath, that's it, that's all you need, deep breaths.

it wasn't him you were angry at.

so you fisted your hands and faked a smile, clenched teeth forcing a "i got the rest of the day off." with an obviously not okay frustrated tear falling down your cheek, giving it all away.

his face was immediately worried, sitting up with his eyebrows knitted together. "what's going on? are you okay?"

deep breath.

"i'm fine. thank you for asking though." eyes darted over to the dishes, another traitorous tear dripping over the apple of your cheek. "please do the dishes. you know i can't stand when you leave them everywhere."

and he was up, which was the last thing you needed if it wasn't to head over to the kitchen and clean up his mess.

"the dishes can wait, why don't you just sit down? we can talk if you want or if you don't want to we don't have to, but you should sit down." he sounded concerned, rightfully so as he carefully took your wrist in his hand and tried to lead you to the couch.

he didn't understand.

why didn't he understand?

you didn't want to talk. you didn't want to deal with any of this bullshit right now.

deep breath.

"No." your body jerked away from him, ignoring the hurt on his face. "clean the fucking dishes yeonjun."

he hesitated, unsure of what to do. unsure of how to handle this. unsure. "but-"

"clean the fucking dishes. i'm not kidding."

he knew you weren't kidding. knew there was no possible way you could be. not with your tense body and rigid stance, trembling voice and tears welling before falling.

"are you sure?"

"yes, i'm sure." you hissed.

deep. breath.

he looked hurt. he looked sad. and most of all, over everything he looked worried.

your heart stung for him.

you were being mean, unfair.

of that, you were sure but you couldn't bring yourself to say anything else. to apologize or comfort him in any other sort of way as his shoulders slumped and he walked over to the kitchen.

all you could do was huff and sharply walk to your room, closing the door with a slam and slump onto the bed.

you sat on the bed for a minute. utterly and completely still. unblinking and holding your breath until your eyes burned and your lungs screamed, and finally, a gasp with a sharp inhale, eyes screwing shut.

the dam breaking. everything falling apart, curling up into a fetal position and just letting go.

very unpretty tears and ugly sobs and guilt, and fuck, yeonjun.

you were such an asshole and you knew he didn't deserve it and god, you should go out there and apologize, tell him it wasn't his fault and that it wasn't him-it was you,

but your body wouldn't-couldn't-move no matter how hard you tried. limbs atrophied and heart thumping wildly, another round of tears bubbling up in your chest.

you wanted to hold him.

wanted to kiss him and tell him sorry.

wanted to be stronger than this and no feel like such a burden.

but...nothing.

nowhere.

muscles frozen. breathing heavy. red, bloodshot eyes slipping shut. everything going fuzzy, head feeling as if it'd been shoved full of cottonballs

and you were out.

**

a few hours later you woke up.

it was dark outside and your mouth was dry, body aching, head pounding.

you shifted over by some force of will, hoping that he would be on his side of the bed, sound asleep.

but he wasn't.

and you knew you fucked up.

"(Y/N)?"

you gasped lightly as the door opened and there he was, looking like an actual angel as the lights from the kitchen illuminated him.

he took a step inside, a glass of water in his hand, along with an advil and a comfortable pair of sweatpants.

helping you sit up, he rubbed your back, handing you the advil and letting you slowly sip the water.

after setting the glass down on the nightstand, he handed you the sweatpants and you looked at him.

"can you help me put them on?" your voice was little more than a rasp, croaky from your earlier use of it. "please."

and he did. took your hand in his and supported you on shaky feet, balancing you as with slow, sluggish movements you were able to put them on before falling back on the bed, panting in exertion like you'd done something much harder than simply change clothing.

"thank you."

yeonjun nodded.

"do you want me to leave?"

"no." your reply was immediate, "come here." not even waiting for a reply, you pulled him down onto the mattress, clutching him to you like a lifeline.

he tensed but just as quickly relaxing with a contented, happy sigh, melting into your embrace and letting the silence overtake everything again.

it was relaxing, feeling the way his body molded to yours. the way his arms clung to you as if you might disappear. the way his breath brushed across your collarbone, warm and familiar.

"i'm sorry."

he looked up at you, eyes forgiving but that only made you feel worse. "it's ok-"

"-it's not okay. it isn't. i'm so sorry. i'm so sorry i treated you like shit, i'm just so tired and so angry and i had a shit day but that doesn't excuse anything and-"

"-it's okay." his voice stopped you on the edge of hysterics.

deep breath.

"i'm so, so, so sorry."

he smiled, kissed your cheek, then your other, before finally meeting your lips, making your own smile bloom. "i forgive you." he whispered against you.

next to out of air, you pulled away first, trying not to smile at the small whimper that escaped him.

he recollected himself quickly though, beginning to nearly purr as your fingers began to card through his hair.

"j-just next time, talk to me instead." he looked at you seriously, pulling your wrist away from where you pet him. "i can take you yelling, i can take you being angry," his voice cracked with emotion, and you squeezed him in your arms tighter.

"just please don't shut yourself in here. don't hide from me. i wanna be here for you. i wanna be here for you the way you always are for me. so let me. let me inside."

you hadn't noticed you started crying again, apparently not all out from earlier.

"inside what~?" your suggestive tone with the way you wiggled your eyebrows pulled a disbelieving laugh from him, your own following in suit, watery and pathetic in your opinion.

"i can't believe you." he finally breathed, but he could, and it made him smile that you were at least somewhat back to normal to resume your suggestive comments.

you smiled too and pulled him closer, pushing him down under you, beginning to pepper kisses over his neck. "i can think of a few better ways to take out my anger on you that don't include screaming at you to do the dishes."

he shivered, letting out a breathy moan as you sucked down on his pulse point. "really?"

he could feel your lips smile against his skin and it made him smile too. "really."

"thank god, speaking of which, doing the dishes is disgusting and for the record-"

he didn't finish, a moan ripped from deep in his chest as your teeth sunk into his skin. "shh, be quiet baby, i'm taking my anger out on you."

your tone had a teasing lilt, making him press his hips up against you. "right now?" hoping to anything that the answer was yes.

you laughed and his heart warmed at the sound. "only if you still want to put up with my anger." he nodded quickly, grabbing your hand in his and lacing your fingers together.

"yes please."

"i'm still a little hung up about the dishes anyway."

a/n: ⛓anon, i hope you feel better soon and i'm always here if you ever wanna talk

i might end up making a pt.2 w actual smut, i just couldn't find a way to fit it in nicely w this one😭

[scotianostra]

On June 10th 1688 James Edward Stuart, “the Old Pretender”, Anglo-Scottish prince, was born, Jacobites the world over remember it as White Rose Day.

It’s not easy with these posts at times. For a start does he deserve to take his place in history of the Scots? Well I’ve included many others that were not born here in my posts, and the Stewart/Stuart name will always be synonymous with our Nation.

Well the eighth of the Stuart James’s was born in St Jame Palace, not long before his faither had to flee leaving the throne vacant so he was brought up in in Continental Europe, two of his sisters went on to be crowned, James was ignored by Parliament although he has next in line.

The name Old Pretender is commonly used to describe James ,to me it’s a bit of an insult, the name Pretender came about as such, when James was born, a wild rumour took hold by James’ opponents that a male baby was smuggled into the Queen’s chamber in a warming pan to replace her stillborn child. Witnesses to the birth testified before a Privy Council meeting, but the rumours continued. As far as Protestant England was concerned, the “warming pan baby” was a pretender to the throne.

So James after the death of his Father was the rightful king of Scotland, England and Wales. In December 1688 James’ mother Mary, supposedly disguised as a laundress, escaped Britain taking James over to the relative safety of France. It was here that he was brought up with the French court regarding him and his family as the true monarchs. Of course, by right of birth James was the rightful heir to the throne.

When James’ father died in 1701 King Louis XIV of France along with Spain and the Papal States recognised James as James VII of Scotland and III of England. However, as a result of accepting this title he was at-tainted for treason in London and all his English estates were forfeited. The next twenty years would see James make various attempts to retake the throne which he felt was rightfully his. These have been wrongly called rebellions, but as the rightful King the correct term is uprisings, although most of you will only know of the final Uprising, The “45 they also took place in 1708, 1715 and 1719

In 1708 his first attack was launched. Initially delayed because James had contracted measles he set out from France with almost 30 ships carrying some 5,000 men to reach Scotland. This would be the largest ever French expedition to come within striking distance of Britain in support for James. Unfortunately, as the fleet approached the Royal Navy were ready. James’ measles may have given them the time needed to prepare for James’ attack. The French ships were forced to flee under the strength of the Royal Navy and took flight along the north coast of Scotland, with many ships being destroyed along the rocky coastline. After this James joined the French army for a while before he was asked to leave France in 1713 as part of the conditions of Frances peace agreement with Britain.

In 1715, James tried again. This time he reached mainland and most people suggest that this was the uprising that should have worked. Unfortunately, once again James was denied. Despite winning at the Battle of Sheriffmuir, and in Preston, James ultimately gave up the fight when he heard Government reinforcements were on the way. He fled Scotland and returned to the continent but his apparent abandonment of his men left a poor impression on many and his welcome back was not great.

After the failed 1715 invasion he eventually took up residence in Rome where the pope recognised him as the rightful king and gave him the Palazzo Muti to have as his home. James made one finally attempt on the British throne in 1719 with some Spanish support but this ultimately came to nothing. Then in May 1719 James married Maria Sobieska by proxy and later, in September, they renewed their vows in person. The following year they gave birth to their first son Charles Edward Stuart. This was followed five years later by another son Henry Benedict Stuart.

By 1745 it was Charles who was looking to take the British throne, for it was that prize he was after, make no mistake, and it is said that James and Charles clashed many times over Charles plans to attempt his own rising. As we know the rising did not succeed and Charles returned to the continent. The relationship was further damaged when James helped his son Henry in his goal of becoming a cardinal. As such Henry would have no legitimate children to carry on the Stuart line and Charles was said to be angry that the decision had been made without him being consulted.

James lived in Rome for the rest of his life where he was well treated. He died on 1st January 1766 in his home there. Later he was buried in St Peters basilica in Vatican city and his tomb is marked by a monument to the Stuarts. After James’ death the Pope refused to recognise Charles as the rightful king and finally accepted the Hanoverian succession to the throne.

A couple of wee footnotes, I mentioned about James and the rumours about the bedpan, this led to all future royal births having to be witnessed by The Home Secretary, this practice went on until midway through the 20th century, the first one not to be witnessed was that of the current heir to the throne Charles!!

And White Rose Day, well being a Jacobite in these times was not necessarily something to publicise. The term ‘Jacobite’ stems from the Latin ‘Jacobus’, which in turn means ‘James’, the Jacobite movement was effectively a political crusade to restore the House of Stuart to the English, Irish, and Scottish thrones. Discovery risked accusations of treason and the penalty of death. What they needed, therefore, were hidden signals of camaraderie spottable only by those ‘in the know’.

The white rose, or the white cockade (white ribbon shaped as a rose in a hat), became one of those symbols either during or soon after The Glorious Revolution. And it continued to represent the Jacobites through to Bonnie Prince Charlie until the collapse of the movement after the 1745 Rising.

What did it symbolise? The reason for its choice as a symbol is unclear. However, when you consider that it’s a hardy wee shrub that thrives in poor soil and can tolerate shade and drought,you can get a sense of its subliminal messages.

I am currently "decorating" my Glengarry with pin badges for my wee trip to Germany for the Euros, and found one on the National Trust of Scotland, bt the totall was over £9, they were trying to charge almost a fiver for dlivery, however searching around I got the one in the pics from The 1745 Association web site for only £4 with free shipping, it also has the 1745 on the badge, which the NTS one didn't, distinguishing it from the White rose of Yorkshire, s a much better option.The Stuarts.

[neptunescore]

re: drivers & Palestine/various political statements, i’m sure this is a controversial opinion, but i actually wouldn’t want statements from any of them at the moment? especially from the ferrari boys (who i’m sure are under incredibly strict pr clauses) and the mclaren boys (can’t believe i’m saying that) given that every team has a contract puma, which is on the boycott list, and ferrari have contracts with shell and hp and mclaren have contracts with google.

pretty sure that there are more teams with main sponsors who also have donated to israel, but given that these guys wear their logos, i don’t want a statement while they (under contract, but still) have to break the boycott and promote these brands.

sure what lando did with the starbucks cup and his various other actions was awful - i’m not going to defend that - but if all the drivers released some kind of statement and then went back to breaking the boycott i’d be so pissed off, it would completely read as a pr move.

it reminds me of a scene from ted lasso, where one of the players find’s out that their main sponsor is harming the country they come from, and so the whole team puts tape over their name on the uniform. if drivers were to make a political statement in support of Palestine, i’d be expecting them to do the same on their uniform and take off all the decals/logos from their cars, at which point the sponsors, i’m pretty sure, would have the avenue to sue.

as well as that, lewis kind of occupies this space where he is (rightfully or wrongly) expected to stand as an advocate on these types of issues - partially due to the fact that he seems pretty good about raising awareness for various causes, partially because he’s been forced into a place of activism from the beginning of his career. so a statement from him come across as genuine, even when he can’t take the logos off of his uniform etc, whereas if another driver put a statement out i’d def assume it was a pr stunt on a topic they saw was trending and not coming from a place of education.

(god this is way way longer than i meant for it to be and probably comes off as very preachy i’m very sorry if it does, i just think that the topic needs, like, nuance, and while i’m down to dislike certain drivers and the fact they haven’t made a statement does give me the ick, i’m not sure that its as simple as all that. however, for the older drivers no longer in these contracts? no reasons for them to stay quiet. educate yourself and use your platform if you’re going to advocate for meaningful change)

I feel like we both have different opinions on this situation, and im not going to discredit yours, but I will say we should just agree to disagree on this :]

No1. You're right that many of the boycott brands ARE sponsors, but they're sponsors of the TEAM(S) and SPORT. Like, I'd honestly fully understand if a driver were to make a statement about palestine and still have that brands logo on them, bc there's literally no way they can avoid it. It's written into their contract, and it's not their personal choice. It's sadly the TEAM'S choice. My main issue would be if drivers continue to use said brands in their personal lives as well or continue their OWN sponsorships from those boycotted brands.

No2. Honestly, even if it's a pr move, I'd still want them to do it. Drivers have such HUGE fanbases, and them educating/ posting about palestine would lead to so much more awareness in the f1 community, no matter what their actual intentions were.

No3. Ur statement on lewis is quite contradicting to ur main point. Bc while yes, lewis has been much more vocal abt his activism and advocation, other drivers have also advocated for a LARGE number of things, a lot of them being the same things as lewis, what makes this so different?

Anyway, I get that some/ most drivers may have contracts that we don't know abt which prevent them from talking abt things like these, but I feel like the LEAST they can do is stay away from posting boycotted brands that in NO WAY sponsor them/ have any ties to them.

All in all, I think we just have different opinions on the matter at hand, and that's completely fine! Have a good day, nonnie!!