#short snippet ig

[skyerie]

"We're sorry!" She looks at me, at my boyfriend. "We didn't WANT to, not really, but it's a PR stunt -"

"What are you talking about?" I interrupted. "I'm not mad about the KISS!"

My boyfriend swallowed. "Um -"

"How could you not tell me that you're SUPERHEROES?"

You squealed as the heroes unmasked and kissed in front of the roaring crowds. Wait…you recognize their faces…that’s YOUR best friend and YOUR girlfriend/boyfriend.

[defectivehero]

"Don't touch me," the villain hisses, writhing in the hero's arms as they're unwillingly carried around.

"Would you prefer if I dropped you?" The hero hums, their eyes set on the skies ahead. "Left you to fall thirteen stories and collide with the pavement? That's certainly an option." They shrug.

"You wouldn't dare," the villain claims with manufactured confidence. Truthfully, their heart is racing in their chest as the two of them soar higher and higher in the sky. They have never quite trusted their enemy—and for good reason. Their morality runs rather grey for a hero, and the villain wouldn't be the least bit surprised if they took advantage of their momentary weakness to cause them even more pain.

The hero shrugs in response to the villain's accusation. Meanwhile, the villain clings on a little tighter, resolutely ignoring the laughter rumbling in their enemy’s chest.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

sorry this is sinfully short, y'all. zero motivation lmao

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[burning-academia-if]

[Happy birthday Beck, my little sky]

            Once, during what he’d later learn to be his last visit to the island, his family had celebrated his birthday as they always. Him and his cousins ran through the small streets of town until they made it to the empty beaches (the kind tourists would never find because the kind of town they lived in was too poor. Too broken down. Too weather worn, for any of them to ever love. But Beck loved it, and he always would. A blessing and a curse). Some would take off their shirts and others would dive into the water without bothering to change.

            Beck’s voice, loud and bright, would call “You know the rules, whoever finds the most sand dollars gets the first of mamí’s mofongo.”

            As if it was a special treat, they’d scatter and laugh and if they were lucky, they’d find one. By the time they were tired and warm from sun and laughter, they’d find a truth which had persisted for years, since they started this game. Beck’s hands were full of sand dollars, all unbroken and various shades.

            When they’d rush back, they’d complain to mamí and ask how Beck always found so many, and she’d laugh and say it was because his heart was so bright it attracted many things. His sixteenth was different. After they came home and his grandmother laughed, she followed him to the cramped little bathroom with a sadness swirling in her dark brown eyes.

“El diablo vive en tú corazón, y yo también.” She’d said, pressing a hand to his heart and hers.

The devil lives in your heart, and mine as well.

In the years that followed he’d wonder what she’d meant.

Until the year came where he learned exactly what she meant.

[starlooove]

The woobification of Gotham rogues needs to be studied

[loserboyfriendrjl]

sinning (for the saints that haven't)

"You from 'round here?" The mysterious stranger asked, in a thick, London accent. He had long hair, down his back in ebony waves, and deep, brown eyes. A left earring was dangling from his ear, and Remus chuckled; was in a coincidence or not?

"Nah, Wales. Been living in London ever since I was eighteen, though." He said, staring into his glass. The man next to him had something alike to someone he had once known, an interesting familiarity, that took him a while to decipher...

Oh. Oh shit.

"You look more than eighteen." The stranger smiled, matter-of-factly. Yeah. He definitely reminded Remus of Sirius.

"I'd have never known, hadn't you told me. I'd have thought we're still in '78." Remus replied dryly. "And you, mysterious stranger who sat dosn next to me at the bar? How old are you?"

"You haven't told me how old you are." He cocked a black eyebrow.

"I'll be turning twenty-one in March. Now that I have answered your question, will you tell me how old you are or not? Confidential information?"

The other man chuckled. "I've turned twenty-two on the first of November. Right after Halloween." Internally, Remus sighed. "Name's Dam, by the way."

"Abbreviated from Damn?" Remus asked, giving the man, Dam, a shit-eating grin.

Dam laughed. "I wish! It's from Damien. My parents wanted to name me something a bit more... elegant, let's say."

Damien, Remus thought, and it left a sweet taste on his tongue. "I'm Remus."

[hanfourz]

— m.jh thought [✷]

🪼- this has been rotting in my brain for weeks and i had to get it out. (also making this into a longer drabble bc whew; so enjoy this little snippet ig)

warnings: suggestive towards the end, kissing

thinking abt college bsf!myungjae who has a massive crush on you. he doesn't even try to hide it, he's literally so obsessed with you. if someone is looking for jaehyun, they look for you first because wherever you are he follows not too far behind. you can't even fully recall how you two became best friends. you remember him coming into the cafe you worked at a lot with his friends, conveniently around the time you would start your shift. he was always really friendly and sweet, making conversation while he waited for his order to be finished. you remember watching him and his goofball friends bicker loudly in the middle of the coffee shop and when you'd accidentally let out a giggle he was the first to look your way. you remember him one day asking you when your shift was over and him telling you to find him in the library once you were done. since that day, you two have been practically inseparable.

finals were coming up and the two of you had decided to become study partners. terrible idea really because he didn't have a serious bone in his body. whenever he came to your dorm to "study", you two always ended up studying for maybe ten minutes max before yall were huddled up on the couch watching tv. you had to resort to studying alone once he'd left. bad decision number two was letting him convince you to come study at his dorm because his roommate would be out and you'd have "peace and quiet" (as if that was a thing around myung jaehyun). when you got there wearing a baggy tshirt and shorts, jaehyun visibly gulped. everyone but you was very aware of his crush on you and it was times like this that made it especially difficult for him. because how was he meant to act somewhat normal when you looked like that. he wasn't sure he wanted you to be aware of how he felt about you, too scared to lose you as a friend entirely.

jaehyun was even more touchy than usual, body pressed right up against yours as you two sat on his bed. touchiness wasn't uncharacteristic for him, he was like that with everyone but today it was much worse. you didn't really understand why he seemed to be attached to your hip today but you can't say you were complaining. you never minded jaehyuns clinginess, it was actually one of the things you came to rly love about him. once your (very short) study sesh was over, he offered to walk with you back to your dorm since it was dark out. you never turned down spending more time with him and you two headed to the elevator. as you walked you had started yapping to him about something going on with some friends from one of your other classes. he wasn't really paying attention though, hyper focused on the way your cut-neck shirt was falling dangerously low on your shoulder.

as soon as you two were in the elevator, jaehyun was extremely close to you again. when you looked up at him, you were shocked to see the way he was looking at you. and when his hands found the curve of your hips and he was asking to please kiss you, the puzzle pieces started to click in your head. truth is, you'd always found him devastatingly attractive but refused to entertain those thoughts, trying not to catch feelings for someone who was just supposed to be a friend. but you'd be stupid to deny him right now and you'd be a liar if you said you hadn't wanted to kiss him since that first day you saw him in that cafe. so you gave in, you let him kiss you breathless on that elevator and you invited him into your dorm when you realized that your roommate was out. you let him indulge in every lewd fantasy he'd had of you right on your very bed.

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

@roblingoblin285 guess who got creative w/this for no reason at all?this has actually been in my drafts for a while, but yeah.

Note: this isn't an rp, I kept the "you" and "I" to stay consistent to the original post's POV. Also, I decided to add my taglist to this cuz why not.

Wound

TW: Guns, stab wound, blood, death mentions, murder mention

"Like the wound so bad? How about I give you one too?" I crack a smile on bloodied lips

"For the record, it was a hunting knife, and the idiot that stabbed me. . .the poor fool, they brought a knife to a gun fight." I give an almost cruel smirk as I pull out the gun, covered in bloodstains.

"Well, are you planning anything? Like it even matters; I can't imagine you'd get very far with your side all bloodied up like that." You raise an amused eyebrow, shaking your head in disbelief.

"That's exactly what they said. Look how beautifully it ended for them." Maybe it's true that I am somewhat out of breath as I say it, but nothing could possibly burn brighter than the raging fire in my eyes.

That warrants even more attention than the gaping stab wound in my side, hot blood snaking down it in a slow cascade of crimson.

"You're insane."

"Well, you're the one complimenting my stab wound, but I am nothing, if not completely deranged. We're terrible adversaries, even though we've never met, sanity and I." My features fix themselves into a slightly softer expression, my smile more bittersweet than scary now.

Your eyes widen as I pull out a needle and thread from the large pockets of my jacket. "Not my first wound, I like to be prepared. And if you want to try anything. . ." my hand flits over to the gun, and my eyes twinkle with a playful look, though with just a hint of danger, like a pinch of powerful spice in a seemingly mild-flavoured soup.

The stitches are nowhere near perfect, but they should hold for now. I'd used a piece of cloth I'd ripped off my enemy's corpse to try and clean anything. Just until I could get somewhere where I could get the wound properly fixed.

When I'm done, you pull out your own gun. "I hope you like plot twists," you smirk, the surprise becoming smugness faster than a bullet gets fired.

Instead of being met with wide eyes, shallow breathing and a drain of colour from my complexion, you get a highly amused, musical laugh. Not a shrill cackle, a genuine laugh. That is highly unsettling to you, if the way your grip tightens on the weapon and the speed at which your fingers approach the trigger are any indication.

"What is the point of killing someone you've never met? Better yet, that we're both armed. You're scared, aren't you?" My voice drops down to a whisper.

"Not scared. I just have absolutely no reason to trust you." You look straight into my eyes, and your gaze doesn't falter. Most people are afraid of the roaring flames in them licking their skin.

Not you. The blood loss might have made me delirious, but you seem impressed.

"Listen, I'll just be on my way. I don't want anything from you. Maybe I kill people. Maybe it's not pretty to look at. But they aren't in any way good or innocent. I'm not the purest around, but I have limits. Killing random strangers is a waste of ammo anyway. And, I'm not stupid, you're an assassin too. So how about this? You spare me, I spare you, and we both pretend we're dead."

"The hell? You think I'm doing that crap?" you bark, giving me a sardonic laugh.

"You're stalling. You're thinking it over. For whatever reason, you didn't just kill me. What's stopping you?" I challenge, fingers tightening on the gun, face stone-hard and gaze sharp and unrelenting, like cold steel.

"I'm dead either way. I don't kill you, I die. I try to kill you, I also die. We both do. Equals. Hideously poetic maybe. So, this is the only option where I live. And if you turn out to be a liar, a couple of bullets is more merciful than what a failure is put through by my employers." If it weren't for your years of rigorous training, you'd've shuddered at the thought.

I nod at you, and I get up, shaking your hand, and we both part ways.

That night, you lie awake in your bed in one of your more remote safehouses, thinking of whether you made a mistake or the right choice, your mind racing with thoughts. You get up, rather irritably and pull sleeping pills out of your medicine cabinet and swallow them with water. they work, like a charm.

The last thing you think of (aside from the pretty stab wound, we've already established it's cute, yeah it's me talking now not the characters) before you drift off, is that look in my eyes.

Terrifying. Haunting. Relentless. Fiercely passionate.

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-whump @enbious-prince @astr0-mj@thelazywitchphotographer @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @dodo-docs @vernilliom @sirrsnakesssss

*wiggling my eyebrows and winking flirtatiously* that's an awfully pretty stab wound in your side. what is that, a hunting knife?

[chocsra]

if you’re ok with writing for multiple characters, could i request a platonic oneshot with chuuya and dazai x fem!reader who is apart of their “double black” (except ig it wouldn’t be double black anymore) and both mediates their arguments and instigates them? (maybe a snippet of friends to lovers between chuuya and the reader 🤭) tysm have a nice day!

"Unlit Cigarettes stained by Warm Lips"

15! Chuuya x gn! reader x 15! platonic! Dazai

A/N: ofc! yall i should keep my mouth shut bc i make too many promises i cant keep. HALLOWEEN IS SOON BTW AAAAAA

Content: stuck in a jail cell with your unfortunately idiotic subordinates, fluff, crack, mafia work, reader is MEAN, a little romance w chuuya, dazai may be ooc but i like to think that in this kinda dynamic he acts more like a normal teen, slight soukoku, smoking, lots of swearing, NOT PROOFREAD‼️‼️

"Missss.. [Y/N]s smoking."

You slap the lanky boy's shoulder harshly as you shove the cigarette box back into your sleeve, watching as your other subordinate's face contort in surprise as Dazai mockingly whines. "Ow.." he rubs his shoulder with bandaged fingers, the ginger next to him looks at you with amusement and confusion. "Where the hell did ya get that?" he asks, you sulk in annoyance from the whining bastard beside you, "Up your ass." a quiet click of the tongue from the ginger can be heard as you defy his genuine question.

Unfortunately, these two are your subordinates, your partners in criminal work, your associated murderers in the underground business. Even though Double Black is all scary and terrifiyingly violent, you thought they were a pair of funny, immature and idiotic assholes.

Dazai Osamu, a lanky, greasy boy wrapped in bandages, loved dying. Yes, he wanted to fucking die, but he doesn't. You sometimes question his skill of staying alive after that many suicide attempts, but it's alright, you suppose. The mafioso had messy brown hair and wore massive suits that did not fit him and constantly smells like dog shit. He claims he has a silver tongue with women but the only woman he 'has' is the front-desk suicide hotline lady. If somebody ever asked your opinion on him, you would answer.. "He's.. interesting."

Next is Chuuya Nakahara, a short, but strong arrogant boy who is frustratingly brutal. Veeery brutal. He's extremely competitive and takes every minor activity as a sweat-inducing challenge. Karaoke is a pain when he's screaming his ass off, simplistic cooking or baking is horrifiying because this shithead works like he's donating food to charity as if his fatass isn't going to inhale everything afterwards, and any sort of video game was devasting, any one.

He had short ginger hair and stormy azure eyes. His fashion sucked until Koyou, a fellow superior of yours knocked some sense into him. Chuuya had a rather small figure but fairly muscled. Yeah, he flexed his abs (ribs) in the mirror randomly. The boy loved fedoras, chokers and classic, fancy clothing that made girls scream 'DAMON TORRANCE 😍‼️' under his Instragram posts. If someone were to ask your opinion on him, you'd say: "He's an alright guy," with a shrug.

Some dumbass landed you three in jail for a reason you'd rather not speak of, and now you have to deal with the aftermath of waiting for your 'beloved' guardian, Mori Ougai to come bail you three out.

"Mackerel," Chuuya jabs Dazai's side, intensely glaring at him. "Why'd you get the guard's attention? I could've smoked." he hisses, causing the taller boy to snap back at him with an eyeroll. "Nah it's fine, I don't have a lighter anyway." you mediate the tension, boredly playing with the flimsy cigarette box in your hand. The redhead scoffs a little, leaning back in the concrete seat of the jailcell, impossibly manspreading further. "We could use Dazai's hot ass breath as a makeshift lighter.." Chuuya suggests with a smirk, the lanky teenager sassily scoffs, "Or rub pipsqueak's oily hair until it catches fire."

"Like- how would that make a fire?" you retort in amusement, "Have you ever been to a science class?" Dazai and Chuuya shrug in sync unshamefully,

"Was busy protectin' gangsta kids."

"Missed most of middle school 'cause of an attempt."

...

"Fair enough," you shrug back, fixing your hair. "Y'know, Boss is gonna kill us when he gets here." you add on, leaning your head against the prison wall. "I know, I'm not fuckin' prepared," Chuuya copies your movements beside you, loosely throwing an arm around your shoulder. Dazai's eyebrows knit in amusement and embarrassment at the sight, "Pipsqueak, you are NOT smooth." the ginger almost glitches as he flew away from you at those words, now chasing the brunette around the jailcell.

"'Playfighting between you guys is a fuckin' hazard, even for the mafia." you mumble, placing the unlit cigarette between your lips to feel the sensation once more. "This isn't playfighting! I'm gonna kill his ass!" Chuuya pants between missed kicks thrown at Dazai. "That's why [Y/N] thinks you give 'dog vibes'!!" the brunette retorts, bringing up a previous conversation based off you psychoanalyzing your coworkers.

"Why you!-" the smaller boy curses, flying off a wall aimed towards Dazai's head. "I'm not wrong though!!" you fling your arms up in surrender, smiling cheekily as Chuuya rolls his eyes. "After this fuckboy, you're next." You swallow thickly in slight fear. You swore you could hear walls crack and floors thump at the loud commotion, drowning out the poised footsteps towards your cell.

"Sir, are these your children?"

A kind, petite policewoman points to you three fighting like rabid animals. Mori Ougai, your tall, diabolic and terrifiying boss smiles fakely, watching his underlings fight in pure irritation.

"Unfortunately."

The tall brunette immediately halts as the ginger almost decks him in the face. Your hands stay frozen in the air as if you've been caught instigating a chicken fight.

Dude, you are so fucked.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

CONGRATS ON 500 FOLLOWERS WOOO!! its been a little over a year since ive found your writting, how time flies T-T Could you possibly write a platonic gojo & reader oneshot where its just snippets of Gojo's first year teaching and the reader is a 1st year student not part of jujutsu society? I'd prefer if the mc had a somewhat introverted personality while being grumpy bc of being forced to attend the school. U can change their behaviour to what u feel more comfortable writing if u want tho!!

── THE SCHOLAR

Synopsis: A short snippet of how Satoru Gojo convinces you to be his first student in full.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Gojo & Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2.6k

Content Warnings: not many tbh…reader is a d1 hater of gojo and ino ig?? also just a hater in general LMAO she does NOT want to be there

A/N: wow anon i can’t believe it’s been a year since you found my account and that you’ve stuck around for so long, that means a lot to me!! i apologize for how long this took me and how short it is 😫 it was a bit difficult for me to write gojo as a teacher without feeling like i was just rehashing his dynamic w a previous y/n i’ve written 😓 but i hope this is somewhat close to what you wanted?? also idk if you’ve read my fic pomegranate ink or not but i did throw in a reference to it at one point so props to anyone who catches that hehe

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

You weren’t really sure what cause your classmate had to be as pleased as he was, but for some reason, the boy was bouncing in his seat, scribbling down notes with the fervor of a scholar — though you were quite certain that he was nothing of the sort, at least not when his test scores were taken into consideration. 

“Hey,�� you whispered, tossing an eraser at his head when your teacher’s back was turned. “Ino. What’s the big deal? We’re not even learning anything yet, so what are you writing down?”

“Are you kidding me? Gojo just told us an entire story of his past. That’s valuable information!” Ino said. You frowned at him.

“It’s not valuable information, because he’s so prone to embellishment that he’s all but an author at this point. Besides, do you think you, or anyone else for that matter, will ever face seven first grades and come out the winner, without even a scratch?” you said.

“He’s the strongest sorcerer in the world, though, so it’s feasible for him,” Ino said.

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Maybe for him, but not for anyone else. This is just bragging under the guise of an educational opportunity. We’re never going to be powerful enough to replicate such a feat, so what’s the use in wasting our time talking about it?”

“You’re such a spoil-sport,” Ino huffed. “We’re the first students to ever get to learn from Satoru Gojo, and somehow, you’re complaining about it? That’s ridiculous no matter what way you put it!”

“Is everything okay?” 

Both you and Ino jumped as Satoru Gojo appeared in front of your desks, peering down at you over the lenses of his dark glasses. He didn’t seem annoyed that you were talking while he was ‘teaching’; in fact, he looked excited, as if he wanted to join in the conversation as well. You could imagine him pulling up a chair and resting his chin in his hands as he gossiped with you, and it made you scoff.

“Everything’s fine. We were just wondering when you were actually going to start the lesson,” you said.

“She was wondering that!” Ino rushed to clarify. You shot him a dirty look out of the corner of your eye, which he ignored — you supposed loyalty didn’t mean much to him, as you two weren’t really friends and therefore couldn’t inspire much loyalty in one another regardless. “I was telling her how fascinated I am by the story you were telling!”

“Suck-up,” you hissed.

“Stupid,” he hissed back. Gojo clapped his hands, returning to the front of the classroom with a distinctly unacademic swagger to his step that made you internally fume.

“No worries, we’re just getting to that part! Today, we’ll go over some basic curse theory,” he said, drawing simplistic shapes on the chalkboard to accompany his explanations. As usual, Ino was absorbed by the standard bullshit Gojo spouted, but you found it to be so boring that you actually began to nod off, catching up on the sleep you had missed last night due to a mission which had run later than expected.

Unlike Ino, who had been automatically enrolled in the school because of his family lineage, you had been scouted as a fresh talent by Satoru Gojo himself. It had been a long conversation, and he had only managed to convince you in the end by telling you all about Kaito Hinode, the well-regarded first year teacher who you would study under. Hinode was a sorcerer you believed you wouldn’t have trouble respecting, and so you begrudgingly agreed to attend the school and give the whole notion of ‘jujutsu sorcery’ a shot.

Then Hinode retired, mere weeks before you were set to begin at the school, and his replacement was revealed to be none other than that irreverent, inept, and decidedly unserious man who you had secretly hoped you would not see much more of: Satoru Gojo.

You didn’t even want to be a sorcerer in active duty, but the theoretical side of it interested you to an almost unhealthy extent. You spent days upon days studying the workings of curses and cursed energy, to the point that you could be considered almost an expert. That was the only thing cheering you about coming to the school, that you’d get to discuss with individuals on your level, and so it had been such a heartbreaking disappointment when Gojo, who cared little about the causes and more about the results, was the only proper sorcerer you came into frequent contact with.

The other teachers didn’t have time to entertain your pestering, far too busy with their own students, which meant that Gojo was really your only option. And of course you had tried — really, you had. You had presented him with your questions and ideas, but he had only made a face and told you that studying curse theory to this extent wouldn’t help anyone, and least of all yourself.

He wanted you to learn how to fight, but you didn’t care for that. You didn’t want to fight. If you could spend the rest of your days shut away in a study, reading your books and taking notes on them, then you’d be quite content. You were reluctant to go on missions, even if you were ten times better than your peers, and you often dragged your feet heading into your practical classes. More than once, Ino had had to hoist you over his shoulders and sprint to the training field so that you were not both late, and you knew that you probably shouldn’t be so harsh on him given that, but because it meant that you had to exert yourself on the battlefield instead of rereading your favorite essays, his good intentions only made you resent him more.

“You know, you could really be a great sorcerer,” Gojo said to you one day. You were sitting on a bench while Ino did exercises, ink smudging your hand as you meticulously annotated a book that the principal had given to you. You blinked up at him, amazed once again at how tall he was. He blocked out the sunlight, his shadow looming over you in a way that would’ve been ominous if he wasn’t so typically harmless.

“Hm?” you said, returning to your book when you realized he wasn’t going to say anything of importance. “Sure, I guess I could be.”

“Becoming a first grade isn’t an impossibility for you. It’s something attainable, which is incredibly rare for someone as young as you,” he continued.

“Right,” you said.

“Do you care about that, though?” he said.

“Nope,” you said. “I have no interest in being a first grade sorcerer. It just means more dangerous missions, doesn’t it? I don’t care about all of that.”

“It also means a higher salary,” he said.

“Probably not high enough to make up for the risks,” you said.

“Well, it’s pretty high, though only you can decide if it makes up for the risks or not,” he said.

“Listen, sir, I’m only even here because you told me I could further my studies with people renowned in their fields. Do you mind telling me what field you’re renowned in? Because for some unfathomable reason, you’ve ended up as my teacher,” you said.

“I’m…the strongest sorcerer? In the world?” he said, though the way he phrased it made it seem like he was asking you instead of telling. You shrugged.

“That’s an intrinsic talent. You didn’t learn to be that way; you were just born with it. Sure, you had to practice, but practicing and studying are different. Anyways, even if you are the strongest soldier, I think we’ve established that that’s not something I’m interested in. I was supposed to be under the tutelage of wise and experienced professors, but instead, I’m being instructed by you, who’s barely even a few years my elder and has never taught before,” you said, closing your book and holding it to your chest, smiling tightly at him. “I’m staying here because my parents already paid the tuition fee, but I’m not happy about it. Just so you know.”

“If you’re a first grade sorcerer, you also get more access to information,” he said after a moment. “Stuff behind a million clearances that only people of a sufficiently high rank get access to.”

You froze, your eyes brightening at the thought of this forbidden knowledge. You already knew that you were missing several key pieces in your preliminary research, but no matter how hard you looked, you had never been able to find the answers to the seemingly obvious questions. Was this why? Was it really because you did not have the seniority to warrant the understanding?

“Is that truly the case?” you said.

“I can’t help you in terms of books and learning and all of that boring stuff,” he said. “But if you put in a bit more effort, I can turn you into someone that the higher ups listen to, instead of the other way around.”

You mulled this over before nodding, standing up and leaving your book on the bench.

“Okay. I’ll do as you tell me to, but like I said earlier, I’m not going to be happy about it,” he said.

“Who cares? You can be the gloomiest girl alive!” he said, reaching out to ruffle your hair. “Let’s work together, Y/N!”

“I’m your student,” you reminded him. “Not your friend.” 

He waved you off. “You’re old enough to be both. Now let’s get to training!”

It was horrible, being Gojo’s favorite student. For one, Ino was jealous — although soon enough he found another mentor to cotton on to, and then your relationship with him mended into something a little more cordial and polite. For another, Gojo had this strange penchant for throwing you into impossible situations and watching in glee as you struggled to get out of them.

His missions also tended to be errands disguised as pressing matters. Once, he made you run around Tokyo, stopping in various stores so that you could improve your conditioning — stores which just so happened to carry the items on his week’s grocery list. Another time, you single-handedly had to exorcise every single curse harassing a nearby bakery — a bakery which just so happened to carry a specialty flavor of cake that was his new favorite. Whenever you complained about the silly chores, he asked if the exercise had made you stronger or not. You would begrudgingly admit that it had, and then he’d tell you that you should just think of it as a win-win scenario and stop whining.

“Y/N!” That was how it always began: he would shout your name as he entered the classroom, usually accompanying it with a wad of paper or some other, similarly harmless object sent flying your way. You’d catch it in one hand and glare at him.

“What?” This would prompt him to explain his ridiculous plan for the day, after which he would turn to Ino and hand him his assignments. He had gotten special permission from the school to train you in this non-orthodox manner, given that you were so far ahead in any material that giving you homework would be redundant and a waste of time for all parties involved. For his part, Ino did not complain, for he had long ago lost interest in training with Gojo, who was admittedly terrible at actually explaining anything of note.

You made a good pair, you and Gojo, or at least as good of a pair as could be made given the circumstances. As the year went on, you grew more and more familiar with the reasoning behind his atypical style, and though you would never cease to complain, it was more lighthearted, a habit instead of a genuine gripe.

“You’ll be promoted any day now,” Gojo told you on the last day of your first year — the last day that he would be your director supervisor. “They’re waiting for you to grow a bit older, but it’s maturity you lack, not talent. If you participate in the Exchange Event next year, you’ll get the recommendations you need without a problem.”

“If?” you said, picking up on what he had left unsaid. “Isn’t it mandatory? Why wouldn’t I participate?”

“It’s mandatory if you’re living on campus, yes,” he said.

“And what cause would I have to not be living on campus?” you said.

“You’re interested in curse theory, aren’t you?” he said. When you nodded, he sighed. “Still? I was hoping you’d have moved on by now…well, I can get an alternate course of study approved for you by the principal, if you want.”

“An alternate course? What would that entail?” you said.

“One of my fellow special grade sorcerers, Yuki Tsukumo, specializes in researching the exact types of things you find so fascinating. If she agrees to it, then you could serve as an assistant of sorts to her. It’ll be like an internship or something. She won’t let you slack off — it’ll be much worse than anything I put you through, that’s for certain — but if that’s the path you want to take, then it’s an option,” he said.

You had never loved him quite as much as you did in that moment. Without even taking a moment to think about it, you nodded enthusiastically, beaming at him.

“Yes! Yes, Gojo, sir, that would be ideal. I’ve read some of the proposals Tsukumo’s submitted to the higher ups, and oh, if I got to work with her, it would be such a dream,” you said.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he said. “She still has to agree to it.”

“Do you think she’ll say no?” you said.

“Maybe at first,” he said. “After she meets you, though? No way. You’re my pupil, after all. You’ll be the most impressive student she’s ever taken under her wing — and I can attest to the fact that you’ll be far and away the most dedicated.”

You supposed you had some things to thank him for, then. The corners of your lips twitched as you bowed your head at him, causing him to grunt in confusion; after all, you had never shown him such deference before.

“You’re not that bad as a teacher,” you said. “You know, for it being your first time, I think you did alright.”

“Yeah?” he said eagerly before composing himself, clearing his throat before speaking again. “Yeah, I guess you turned out just fine.”

“Thank you for everything, Gojo,” you said. “Please know that you’ll always have an ally in me.”

His black sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, just a bit, but enough that you could see the way his eyes softened ever so slightly. Then he reached out and socked you in the arm affectionately.

“Considering how often I butt heads with the higher ups, I might call upon you one day,” he said. “Don’t make that kind of promise lightly, is what I’m saying.”

“I’m not making it lightly,” you said. “If you call upon me, I’ll come. That’s what you do for someone who’s changed your life, right?”

Even the shades he had shoved back into position could not hide the breadth of his smile nor the depth of his fondness. He nodded, slowly at first and then quickly, like he wanted you to be very sure of his agreement.

“True,” he said, and then he patted you on the head. “Guess that means you can call on me whenever you want, too. I’ll be there.”

You smiled at him over your shoulder as you left for the summer and thought that you might never be so fortunate — or unfortunate — as to have a teacher quite like him again.

[terresdebrume]

I was thinking about trans!Charles these past couple days, and I already have trans!Niko in the Down on My Knees series and they sort of combined with a Halloween snippet I started that is now too big to be called a snippet (and not yet done) to form this. Is it good? No idea. Will I do anything more with it? I mean, I might clean it up for AO3 at some point. Anyway. Enjoy trans Charles & trans Niko looking at old photos and reminiscing ig

Niko's gasp rings through the apartment, making Edwin jump and Charles' head turn towards the bedroom.

"What?" Crystal exclaims from the other side of the living room, "What is it? Are you okay?"

"Charles!" Niko exclaims, running back to the living, "Charles, look what I found!"

Niko brandishes a dusty, battered cardboard box in her hand: it is white, striped red, yellow and green, and stained with age and what might be a spot of mold. The mere thought of getting near it is enough to wrinkle Edwin's nose, and a look at Crystal confirms that she feels the same. Charles, however, takes one looks at the box and jumps to his feet with an excited smile. Edwin watches him run up to Niko and make a grab for the box, stopping just short of actually taking it out of Niko's hands as they fall into step towards the sofa.

"It's our old friendship box!" Charles explains as Edwin and Crystal join their respective partners to look down at the box.

"It looks like a health hazard," Edwin says when Charles holds it out towards him, hands pulling back towards his chest before he can even think about it. "Please do not make me touch it."

"Honestly this is nothing," Niko says in her usual monotone, "you should have seen the state of his backpack when he moved in with me."

"Oi!" Charles protests, one hand on the lid of the box, "don't diss the backpack! It had my life in it!"

Niko smiles and catches Charles into a tight hug, and Edwin can't help sharing a rueful smile with Crystal. Charles and Niko have been friends since they were in upper secondary, but they do not often reference that time, presumably because of the painful experiences Charles hinted at. The box, whatever it may contain, is sure to bring back bittersweet memories at best, and Edwin can't help but to brace against that even as Charles and Niko exhibit nothing but enthusiasm.

"Open it!" Niko is telling Charles when Edwin turns back to them, "I want to show them the picture!"

Charles laughs and rolls his eyes, playfully shoving his shoulder into Niko's as he pulls the box open. The smell of hairspray assaults Edwin's nose immediately, and it takes a bit of sneezing before he can look down into the box. Once he does, he's surprised to find a perfectly preserved strand of sword lily, along with a pair of cherry blossom cufflinks.

"These are from our winter formal!" Niko exclaims, voice cracking as she does. "My corsage still looks so good!"

"You kept the pictures, right?" Charles asks, smiling down at the cufflinks before turning to Thomas, who walked up to the back of the sofa without Edwin hearing. "I paid thirty quids for the set, I don't want them to end up in the bin!"

"I keep forgetting you went to a bougie school," Thomas replies. "You sure don't fucking sound like it."

"It's because they all hated him," Niko says with her usual frankness. "He actually worked back on his accent, afterwards."

"Posh is only sexy on Edwin," Charles says, scooping the cufflinks and the flower out of the box.

Edwin, his cheeks warm, leans against Charles' shoulders to peer further into the box, and finds himself looking down at a picture he would never have expected to see. To the left, a tall, black-haired boy stands straight in a deep red Punjabi suit with gold ornaments. His smile is bright, his cheeks adorned with a touch of color, his ears decorated with stick-on earrings. The is no scarf on his head, and his hair is too short to arrange in anything more elaborate than a bob, but he slipped another fire lily behind his ear and it makes him look a little like his hair is on fire.

"That was Charles' art and design project," Niko reminisces, pointing at the suit. "You started it the summer before, right?"

"Yeah," Charles agrees with a chuckle. "I had to hide it behind my wardrobe--my dad would have gone mental if he'd figured I was spending that much time and money on a fashion project."

The proclamation, unfortunately enough, sounds very much like what Edwin is starting to expect from Charles' father. He is struck, once more, with a visceral, violent sort of hatred for the man, and a deep relief that he will likely never have to meet him. The top--the kameez, as Charles names it--fit Niko beautifully, the embroidery on the sides enough to give the impression of a narrow waist. The golden thread seems solid, the wide pants, or salwar, falling elegantly around her long legs and gathering at her ankles with a lovely fold.

But while the rest of the group admires and praises Charles' work on the outfit, Edwin can't help but let his gaze glide to the second person on the left of the picture. Shorter than Niko only because she is not wearing heels, the girl is sporting a visible scrape on her cheek and a heavily lined smolder. Her cheeks are rounder, her long, tight curls gathered back into a high ponytail. She is standing straight in a deep black kimono, the outer vest that Edwin doesn't know the name of matching the color of Niko's kameez. Even then, despite the make up and the golden nose ring and chain Charles must have had to fight for, there is an undeniable sort of masculinity to the way he looks.

"We had to practice our poses," Charles whispers in Edwin's ear, as if he somehow felt where Edwin's thoughts were going. "Niko kept doing the 'ceps move."

Edwin, very familiar with Charles' propensity for tucking his hands under his upper arms in order to make his muscles more prominent, cannot help but chuckle at the image. Niko is, by far, the most delicate person he's ever been friend with, and it is hard to picture her trying to be one of the blokes.

"I knew all the bro moves!" Niko confirms happily, and demonstrates by leaning her head onto her half-closed fist and smoldering at Edwin.

She doesn't quite look uncomfortable with it so much as cheeky, like a child pantomiming an adult's attitude, as opposed to the effortless way Charles does it. Niko is playing at masculinity, but Charles genuinely enjoys it. When he adopts Niko's earlier smolder, Edwin's stomach swoops down with delicious warmth.

"I had like, zero idea how to move in a girly way," Charles snorts in response to Niko. "We had to google it and practice in the town park on the weekends."

"You would have made a really good butch lesbian," Niko says sagely, and Charles grins.

"Mate, I'd have been aces as a butch lesbian!"

"Honestly, I can see that," Crystal says from the other end of the couch. "You'd have been a complete frat bro."

"Hey, now," Charles protests, but Thomas smirks and cuts him off:

"I bet you'd have been all about muscle cars and all," he says, to which Charles looks genuinely offended.

"Oi! If there's any car nerds in this room it bloody well isn't me!"

"I keep telling you, Charles," Edwin replies without losing his calm, "there is true beauty in a well-designed vehicle."

"Look what you did!" Charles protests, turning to Thomas even as he loops an arm around Edwin's waist and hugs him to his chest. "Now he's going on about cars! How do I get my beautiful poetry nerd back?"

"Read poems about cars!" Niko suggests, apparently in earnest.

That makes Crystal and Thomas laugh, and they start improvising truly horrendous rhymes about cars, motors, and a horsepower. Charles snorts at them, but it soon turns into a blush when Edwin leans into him and whispers close to his ears:

"You and I both know you make a much better muse for the poet in me than any car ever will."

[writingstoraes]

🎙️ — writingstoraes masterlist!

✷ welcome to rae's diary! — this section will serve as the masterlist of my works published here.

✷ genres!

♥︎ — online mode: instagram imagines and social media alternate universes (au)

♥︎ — snippets: drabbles and headcanons, short works

♥︎ — letters: works that are quite lengthy

🎧 reqs for charles: open!

✷ who do i write for? — i mainly write for charles leclerc but i will be writing works and accepting requests for other drivers soon! (will likely start with carlos, daniel, and max)! for my kpop fandoms, i usually write for jeong jaehyun.

✷ request guidelines — i accept requests for drabbles, written imagines, and social media aus/ig imagines. i can write fluff and angst, but i don't do 18+ or nsfw works. please be patient when sending a request, it might take some time before i get to it :D

✷ general masterlist

♥︎ — charles leclerc ; online mode

world champion

is he?

hard liquor, hard launch

muse

charles' playlist

fall

out to the world

paddock greetings

hype man

biggest fan

relationship release

split

never really over (split's pt. 2)

begin again (split's pt. 3)

daughter blues

at home date

choose a lane

hearts day

in his eyes

podcast confessions

new season

total swiftie

red vs. red

you're losing me

down bad

patient

grid love

night of nights

wrong wolff

secret trip

the days after (secret trip's pt. 2)

say cheese

all mine

tour guide

no.1 fan

princesses

lover

hearty meals

the other side

no way

anything and everything

♥︎ — charles leclerc ; snippets

unbelievable

merry and bright

off cam

hair tie

gift master

someday

♥︎ — charles leclerc ; letters

three words, eight letters

sparks

down the aisle

90 days

♥︎ — jeong jaehyun ; letters

all too well

promises to keep

running low

the tale of two apartments

never mine

[defectivehero]

Villian (hero's lover) locks up injured hero until they get better, hero was injured many times before and would always convince villian that they were fine, this was the last straw.

i am allergic to explicit romance (or romance at all), so i'm skipping over that part haha

"Well, isn't this fun," the villain remarks, raising their brows as they study the hero's form. They've been waiting for the hero to arrive. After all, the villain's misdeeds are never ignored for very long. And the villain has enough experience to know exactly how to unsettle and unnerve the hero—how to get them running over in five minutes; how to summon them without so much as a single word or action. They are the puppet master and the hero is their faithful mannequin, bending to their every whim.

Yet the hero has been running about with loose strings recently. Surely that is the only explanation for their current state: as they stand unsteadily, blood spattered across their clothes and bruises and scrapes nearly everywhere. It looks like they're favoring their left ankle over their right and there's a dazed glaze in their eyes, as if they're fighting off fatigue. "Just what makes you think you can take me on in such a state?" The villain asks lightly.

"Shut up," the hero hisses. They take a step forward—evidently intending to fight them—only to fall to the ground in a crumpled heap. The villain chokes on a laugh; after a few seconds, they walk over and look down at their enemy, clicking their tongue.

"This is embarrassing," the villain remarks. They lightly kick at the hero's side and the hero groans, flipping to lie on their back. The hero squints up at them as the sunlight evidently burns bright spots in their vision.

"Just... leave," the hero bites out. It's clear that their pride is wounded, if they're admitting that they can't fight. If the villain were a kinder person, they would leave the hero be. But they have never been kind, so they laugh instead.

"I don't think so," the villain says, regarding the hero with mild interest. "You were the one to seek me out, remember?" Indeed, the villain got here first, and the hero arrived shortly after. The villain stares down at the hero's form for a long moment, a plan quickly taking shape in their mind.

"What are you plotting?" The hero asks, breaking them out of their thoughts. The villain must've had a smirk on their face. They raise a brow and the smirk returns. Something in their expression must betray their intentions, because the hero immediately tries to back away on their elbows. "Don't touch me," the hero spits.

"Sure," the villain remarks easily, ignoring their request and instead bending down and picking the hero up into their arms. They're sure their rival wants to resist, but they're evidently much too injured to do so. Regardless, the hero looks positively murderous. The villain takes a deep breath and closes their eyes, until the familiar feeling of darkness encompasses them and they visualize their intended destination: their laboratory. Within moments, the villain is standing in the center of their lab with the hero.

"What the fuck are you doing-?" The hero spits, blinking rapidly as they recover from the quick teleportation. A person who is teleported against their will can experience dizziness, blurred vision, headaches... The list goes on. The villain supposes these side effects only further aid their current plans, making the hero pliant in their arms.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" The villain asks quizzically, walking mechanically towards the glass enclosure near the edge of the room. They feel an amused smile growing on their lips. "Taking a walk in the park? Honestly." The motion sensors activate and the door to the enclosure slides open. The villain walks to the corner of the space and unceremoniously drops the hero onto the ground. Their enemy groans at the

The hero is hardly able to move—they will not be able to escape. The villain watches as that realization crashes down on them, as they're forced to accept their sudden captivity.

"I don't understand-" They mumble, looking around the space with a sort of dazed confusion.

"You really do talk too much." The villain murmurs regretfully.

"I-" The hero sputters. It seems they've never been told that before. That is really a shame—they need more honest friends, the villain thinks to themself. "This isn't- I could die in here!" They stare up at them with panic.

The villain pointedly looks at the adjacent wall and the hero turns their head to the side. Their reaction is incredibly amusing—so much so that the villain wishes they had the foresight to record it, so that they could watch it over and over again. The hero regards the water machine with a truly nasty glare, as if the machine did something to personally offend them.

"You're joking," the hero seethes. "What is this, a fucking hamster cage? You're missing an exercise wheel." They scoff, looking around the rest of their new cage. "...And food."

"You know humans can survive for three weeks without food," the villain remarks helpfully. "And I've always wanted to test that theory..." They smile, clasping their hands excitedly.

"Seriously?" the hero hisses incredulously. "I'm not a fucking guinea pig for you to experiment on."

"You aren't?" The villain asks, slipping on a mask of genuine confusion. "Then why did you come when I called?" The hero stares at them in irritated disbelief. The villain hums in satisfaction. The hero's anger and confusion gives them immense joy. "Maybe now you'll learn to take better care of yourself," they murmur patronizingly, crouching down and placing a hand on the hero's cheek.

"Don't touch me," the hero repeats like a mantra. The villain isn't sure if that remark is meant for them or the hero themself. They don't think it quite matters.

"This is your own fault, you know," the villain whispers, standing back up. The accusation sinks heavily into the air and the hero must know it to be true, if the way the light in their eyes briefly flickers and dims. "if you hadn't come to me in such a state, this wouldn't have happened."

The hero looks to be considering their next words thoughtfully. It's clear they want to beg or plea, but they must know that their efforts will be to no avail. The villain has never bowed down to the hero's desires, and they don't plan to start now.

Evidently discouraged, the hero switches tactics. Their composure promptly shatters, as it is instead replaced with raw, unbridled fury. It's clear that they've come to one inevitable conclusion: they will be trapped here until the villain wishes to release them (if the villain wishes to release them). "You can't do this to me!" The hero screams, their eyes wide and their voice unsteady.

"I believe I just did," the villain says with a slight smile. They take a step backwards. "See you in a few days. Try not to die. Or do—just don't make a mess of it." They walk out the door and it slides shut behind them, leaving the hero caged in walls of glass. The villain sits down at their desk and busies themself with their newest blueprints. Their enemy's agitated screams and desperate shouts are a pleasant hum in the back of their mind as the villain resumes their work.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

me typing: "raw unbridled furry." me: wait. fury. i meant fury.

tag list: @lateuplight @wit-is-wisdom @greengableswriting @whump-me-all-night-long @noawhite @rekhyt-of-arcadia @the-blind-one-speaks @sufferfictionalcharacters @basically-psyduck @alexkolax @subval01 @emerald-blade @felicia609 @surplus-of-sarcasm @ilickedanenvelopeandilikedit @a-chaotic-gremlin @unknownogre @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @whatwhumpcomments @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @agayprince @starsick1979 @a-lonely-little-ghost @agayprince @plum-tello

click here if you’d like to be on/off the tag list!

[artyfartyperson]

ALSO!!!! finished Prime Empire!!!!! Uh basic opinions: Art direction was great, the music direction was great except for when the music track wouldn’t finish at the end of the episode but would fade out halfway through the song. Writing was ASS i cant believe they labelled this a Jay season, we had absolutely no focus on him at all in fact I feel like we had way more focus on Lloyd and then Jay like kind of ate up the last one. I would’ve liked if they had some sort of snotty communication with Unagami/Pixal and Zane or received snippets from rumours and Jay could sort out his feelings about his own past as well as Unagami’s. Unagami being the game itself held no weight whatsoever, neither did Kai nor Cole nor Lloyd nor Nyas death. I was more upset with Scott’s death than everyone else’s !!!

Deadass I feel like Skybound picks up the slack where Prime Empire falls short. It gives enough narrative to know what’s going on outside of Jays POV, but overall the plot follows him. It’s his season. If I was never told Jay was the poster child for Prime Empire I would’ve fully expected Lloyd to be the last to go. The deaths were deadass HEAVY because it left Jay more alone than ever. The odds were slowly stacking against him and he had to lock in to have a chance at winning. In Prime Empire it was literally like oh whatever….

Following up on that I miss the old formula they had when the villains would literally WIN for a hot minute, and the ninja REALLY had to lock in to beat their asses. Unagami really just felt like an every Tuesday villain by the end of it. Maybe it’s the general tone of the writing that changed but who am I to say… Jay did not seem to struggle in the slightest, and I genuinely think thats where the life system falls short. I would’ve MUCH preferred if it was a life AND hp system instead of “oh I got hit by a helmet bye guys catch you later” It would’ve added so much more stakes to the fight. The one hit only system just ensures the reader that no, they won’t get hit, sure how else are they going to win? It became so predictable once Nya, Lloyd and Jay had only one life left. Of course they won’t get hit, yeah sure everyone but Jay got cubed, but at THIS rate in the story you know for a fact Jay HAS to progress the story because the way they’ve written themselves into a worldbuilding corner ensures that the plot will go nowhere if he dies, so naturally he can’t.

Scenes in the season also held no weight whatsoever. Again, bringing up the deaths, and I’m also gonna bring in Lloyd and Harumi’s fight because even though she wasn’t real we still got to see him unpack some sort of emotions. It was also so…. glossed over though….. idk F in the chat ig.

Anyways I had my fun with this season!!! It’s definitely down there with Season 11 and 7 in terms of writing but it’s better than the two in terms of boredom. It was a fun watch but it’s definitely one of those seasons where you have to shut your brain off and accept that this season is just a big nothing sandwich.

Overall I think they hit some interesting key points, but fell short in the execution. Definitely a lack of focus as well I’ve noticed that a lot recently with the newer episodes.

Anyways I know I am like 4 years late but leave me be……….

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

UPDATE

Heyyyy my sunshines!!!

I hope you guys liked the Pt3 I put out for the Maknaeline Clinginess Angst!! If you haven't read it yet check it out ;)!!! I JUST updated my Masterlist post-You'll notice there are a lot more things added onto it that I have not released yet. To keep myself more organized with requests and manage my posting more efficiently (my schedule still won't be completely set because unfortunately I'm a mood writer regardless of whether or not I have time 🥲🥲🥲) - I've decided I will start posting my TBR's. Meaning you guys will be able to see what I will be releasing - which will help me manage tags better as well. And will help those of you who like my page; who are not on my permanent taglist and want to know when I post. IF you would like to be tagged message me WHICH post you would like to be tagged on and I will be tagging the first 10 tag requests + those who are on my permanent taglist as of today- June 28th, 2024. FOR REQUESTS I will tag the person who requested the fic. The one catch is I can only really tag if you don't request anonymously. I am a judgement free zone and I want you guys to all feel safe and comfortable on my page and with me as both author and friend. So if you do have a request and you want to be tagged with your request feel free to request freely. I will NO LONGER be sharing the FIC requests via POST rather I will note the title and genre of the fic in the masterlist to - - A. Keep you anonymous EVEN IF you decide to not remain anonymous when you send the message -B. Declutter my page by minimizing posts Me not sharing requests does NOT mean I won't share any of the messages you guys send. A lot of you send me encouragement and compliments via my inbox so I will occasionally share those messages since they make me smile :) Despite me not sharing request answers and just putting them straight on the master list you can STILL choose to be anonymous when requesting. I just want to make sure you all know that you don't have to feel afraid of me judging a request or anything of that nature if you DO decide you would like me to know your user so you are automatically put on the tag list for that fic before the 10 spots are filled. It will be first come first serve for all of them so I do apologize if you don't make it onto the taglist for that fic, but I trust you'll find it at some point after its release. My masterlist post will be updated EVERY SUNDAY; so you guys can start the week with knowing what's up 🙌🙌🙌! Okay sorry for that long informational rant but here's another shorter one.

I will be dropping an Enhypen masterlist. The same rules stated above go for the Enhypen list once it is up and running. But since it isn't I will be taking 2 requests for each member and 1 request for OT7. Again- it is first come first serve so I'm sorry if I don't get to your request 😓😓😓 I WILL BE TAKING REQUESTS UNTIL JULY 2nd (sorry for the short notice 😓) FOR ENHA. Once the Enha masterlist is up and running - which will be by July 3rd my pinned post will be

THE MASTERLIST MASTERLIST (read this is Lord Garmadon's or President Business's voice idk why but it just sounds right) - this will be the masterlist to all my masterlists - which will soon be expanded out into different kpop/misc fandoms/ misc works in the future (ig; TXT, BND, ZB1, ATEEZ, potentially some anime fandoms, snippets from novels I have started to write).

BUT ANYWAYS AS ALWAYS-

Stay SAFE. Stay SANE. And most importantly-

Stay SLAYING. 💅 Love you all ☀️☀️☀️

[sgiandubh]

Anon rebelde

Como bien señalas en la cena hay matrimonios entonces, que impide que Cait acuda a la misma con el que dice que es su esposo? O ese *esposo solo le sirve de vez en cuando para para calentar los ánimos en un fandom fácilmente caldeable? Ya sabemos que Sam está en Londres así que Cait no puede estar allí y en Glasgow tampoco, esas obras no acaban nunca 🤣

Dear (returning) Anon Rebelde,

Y muy reactiva, hoy. 😉 Como se dice en Chile: 'a ver, a ver/por qué llora esta mujer'?

'As you very well observed, there were couples invited to that dinner. So, why would Cait not be there with the one she says it's her husband? Or would that be that the *husband* is only useful once in a while, to fire up tempers in a fandom that's easily heated? We know that Sam is in London, so Cait cannot be there or in Glasgow, so it never ends. 🤣'

You know I agree with everything you wrote, spare one detail: S was apparently not in LHR in October, when the Belfast dinner took place. I had to go look at my archives and make some sense of the context. And although I am not Marple, I couldn't help but notice last October was a very active networking/promo/shit show month for both of them, as the SAG-AFTRA strike was still not over yet.

Just a short summing up:

October 4, 2023 - C's 44th birthday and another mysterious donation to Project CaiTreena/One Tree Planted. S in NYC for drinks and Departures interview with Sophie Mancini. Fandom gets ballistic speculating - an empty 💩, of course.

October 5, 2023 - S in NYC for the Keepers of the Quaich US Chapter gala, with Norouzi (as I predicted) and Mancini. C's whereabouts unknown - not the US, I suppose. Maybe in LHR, re-enacting that Prophet Song excerpt, on behalf of the Booker Prize?

October 8, 2023 - C spotted in LHR for Harrods Iconic Dining Hall Relaunch hosted by Stanley Tucci, with McIdiot (the only time, that month!). Hullaballo ensues for something very close to a nothing burger. S supposedly in GLA, as shown by FaceTime snippet convo with Amanda Tutschek, Venice Beach topless artist extraordinaire. Date of above FaceTime snippet - unknown.

October 10, 2023 - S confirmed in GLA, likely latergram (IG SS gin pics taken on own driveway). C confirmed in LHR, first by Gareth Bromell, then by Getty Image pics at Loewe Foundation's Studio Voltaire Award. Sans McIdiot.

October 17, 2023 - S signs APUK's Palestine letter, whereabouts unknown (my bet is on NYC/Nevis). C confirmed in LHR at the Portia Coughlan play Press Night/After Party, Almeida Theatre. Sans McIdiot, but with Tobias. LOL.

October 19, 2023 - S on Jimmy Fallon's Tonight Show, in NYC. Ring ding ding proves to be a very effective lookie here, not there prop. C's whereabouts unknown, as S's in the October 10-17 interval (Nevis? both? That would be my best bet, and yeah, go ahead and screech. I DGAF).

October 25, 2023 - S confirmed in GLA, despite posting 'from Nevis' the same day and shirtless thirst trap the next day. C's whereabouts unknown? Not really, I should say.

Back to the Northern Irish dinner - bear with me, Anon Rebelde, I am trying to pinpoint a date, here. Begin Again, Jeffers' book that prompted it, was out in the US on October 2 and in UK/Canada and Ireland on October 10:

October was a dementedly busy month for the author, as shown by the excruciating dates of his North American and UK book launch tours (https://www.oliverjeffers.com/begin-again-book-tour):

One of the events surrounding this launch was held at Belfast's Crescent Arts Centre in partnership with No Alibis Bookstore, on October 24. Best thing? He is dressed exactly like in the NYT article pics.

My best bet is that dinner took place in Belfast on October 24, Anon Rebelde or at the latest on October 25 (next to 0 chance, given the identical attire, but let's allow some margin of error to our estimate).

As for Jeffers' position on the Israel-Hamas Gaza War (which, may I remind you, started on October 7), I think this is a very clear statement:

You draw your own conclusions, Anon Rebelde. I am here to try and bring some clarity in a shitstorm, not brainwash you.

Always waiting for your input, which is much appreciated! Hasta luego, hija de la rebeldía!

PS: The timeline game was fucking exhausting. I am not the Securitate, so you won't see me play at that any time soon :)

[maximotts]

May we please have a snippet of your thoughts about yeehaw Wanda and breeding

I swear I’m answering the breeding kink asks, I’m just having a busy irl time (as always now ig) and my answers are longer 😅

For now uhm this is straight up adapted from the last breeding kink thoughts I had with my server a few days ago. By adapted I mean all I did was make my sentences more… coherent? I hope this pleases the masses for now 💖

Wanda seeing Bunny all stressed and patting her lap, “Come here now baby, I’ll help you get your mind off things…” aka she just takes her time dumbing you down and stretching you out to prep you for how she wants to spend her evening.

And you’re so quick to let Wanda take your underwear off before settling atop her thighs, but she holds you so securely, kissing you almost innocently while she slides her first finger past your entrance. You don’t how long it’s been, but eventually Wanda is three fingers deep, dripping all over her hand, and whining so pitifully any time she talks to you.

She sees your eyes all wide and hopeful and she’s so gentle with addressing you, knowing your nerves are already so frazzled. But also she can’t help feeling so carnally possessive over you when you get like this, freed of all thoughts besides her and all the things you want her to give you. “I know just what you need, little bunny. You wanna be filled up, is that it?”

And all you can do is nod vaguely because yes, you’re listening to her, but you really don’t have it in you to process what she’s implying past knowing you’ll be getting more time with your favorite cowgirl. You know she’ll keep you safe and give you whatever she deems best.

Soon Wanda is scooping you up and taking you to bed and of course she’s nice enough to get you into your bed clothes, a short satin nightgown she’d bought after you insisted on having the moment you’d laid eyes on it in the store.

It doesn’t matter to you what you’re wearing though because you’re so relaxed and snuggly, laying on your tummy and hugging your pillow. “I feel better already, daddy. Thank you..”

“Is that so, darlin? Then be a good girl and stay nice and relaxed for me.” You barely bat an eye when wanda puts another pillow under your hips before she starts easing her strap into you, partly because this is what you really needed, but mostly because you feel genuinely thoughtless.

You’re just all blissed out listening to Wanda say the filthiest things about how easy you took her strap and how wet you are, spent so long stretching you out and you’re still so tight… can’t wait to fill you until you’re leaking all over the sheets… Meanwhile you’re more than happy to let her go on her lil breeding kink frenzy as long as she keeps making you cum and lets you stay this stress-free.