#whether in jest or seriousness

[dribs-and-drabbles]

I was encouraged by @grapejuicegay to trash watch Pit Babe and so here I am but I have...questions...

Is Babe really getting off on hearing the sound of the engines?!

Why is Babe having sex with other Alphas (I can't believe I'm writing this 🤦🏽‍♀️) and not Omegas, especially if he doesn't like the way the Alphas smell? Is it because he's a 'Super Alpha' and prefers Alphas to Omegas? (oh dear god why am I doing this?!)

Isn't it a tad unfair to let him race using his special powers against others who don't have them?

I nearly choked on my water reading Pavel's tattoo thinking it said "Full Sausage" but then I remembered @slayerkitty or @sparklyeyedhimbo had already made a point of this and I thankfully realised it says "Full Savage" 😂

I actually can't stop thinking about how salty Babe's skin would be because that man would have been sweating in that car race...

Wait wait wait...are they really calling (translating) Babe having sex as the "concentration"?! Like it's a thing he needs to do to...release pent up energy?!...to focus his mind?!

Do we get to know if any of Babe's friends are also Alphas (or Omegas or Betas) or is he the only one?

Please! This is so silly (affectionate). They can't compete over a person...someone who has their own autonomy to say what he can do and with whom 😂 And, sorry, but Charlie, love, you should have had more confidence in Babe since you went to him as a fan.

How did Winner win that first one?... I can't believe this show has me googling how to win a drift race... "It's all about dominating the other driver..." ah, ok, now I get why they're doing this.

Oh, if I'd just continued watching I wouldn't have needed to google it 😂🤦🏽‍♀️

Kind of impressed by the actual drivers of these cars though.

Winner needs to take some advice from Elsa and Let It Go.

"I don't go into strangers' houses"... I smell a parallel in the future, it's that alpha stink.

*she squints* TINIDEE APARTMENTS?! Charlie is staying in the same building as Pat and Pran?! (*aaaand there she goes making it about Bad Buddy again*)

OMG what is it with villans and bonsai trees?! (I want a bonsai tree, does that mean I need to become a villainess? 🤔)

Why are they calling that guy 'Uncle'...he looks the same age?!

Okay, that was...not as bad as I first thought. Nut is a big bonus and Pavel and Pooh are doing a decent job. I do wonder if Babe and Charlie are endgame though or if Babe and Way are... Will I keep watching? Probably, now that I've started, but I may not do this each time...unless each ep throws up more questions. Thanks kk.

[fanaticsnail]

Please, I'll be good

Masterlist here.

Word count: 1,200+

Synopsis: after rescuing you in the heat of battle, he can no longer contain his desires for you. He was so good. He can keep being good if it means you'll keep kissing him.

Koby, Sanji, Corazon, Sabo, Buggy, Shachi, Ace, Penguin

Themes: unrequited love, semi-sub!love-interest x semi-dom!reader, gn!reader, kissing, confessions of love, he sits on your lap, he is incredibly needy, he just wants to kiss you, fully clothed, sfw, literally just kissing, you call him "sweetheart," brief mention of 'reader' having a friends-with-benefits relationship with another character.

Notes: I couldn't get this kiss out of my head, and I needed to write it down. It was written with Sabo in mind, but I could seriously see any of these wonderful men in his position. I love writing kisses 🖤. Big thank you to @sordidmusings for her suggestions with the inner monologue 😩👌

Tag list: @lostfirefly @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @since-im-already-here @carrotsunshine @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry

He saved you. Again.

Whether it was standing beside him in combat, rescuing you from unwanted attention at a tavern, ensuring you were well fed and hydrated during the day, taking care of all the supplies you needed upon your next adventure - he was always there by your side: your associate, confidant and friend.

In this set of unique circumstances, he managed to do more for you than simply tear you from combat. He saved you. Truly, saved you.

A finishing shot was aimed at you, and your body froze in place. With your eyes wide, he snatched you from your stance and whisked you from your place in the heat of battle.

After checking you for injuries, he cupped your cheek and uttered with all sincerity: “You're safe. I've got you.”

“Thank you, Sweetheart,” was all you managed to whisper in your shock, a name you had bestowed to him, half in jest, that simply stuck. He was a sweetheart, and you had no choice but to refer to him as such.

The relationship between the two of you was strong, as close as close friends could be. You shared your deepest secrets with him, and he shared his thoughts with you. You adored him, everything about him just sang to your soul.

At one stage early on in your comradery, you could've seen yourself diving into something deeper with him. But as you both opened yourself up more in your friendship, you chose to halt it in place. “Flirty friends,” is how you'd refer to it, “Just flirty friends.”

Casually lounging on the plush sofa beside him, you notice he's a little more on edge than usual. He's sitting up straight, rigid and firm beside you as his eyes fix on a point on the wooden panel behind the unwoken transponder.

Attempting to put him at ease, you sit up a little and rest your head on his shoulder and bring your hand up to encase his within yours.

“Thank you again, Sweetheart,” your words whisper as you trace gentle circles into the back of his hand with your thumb, “You're always so good to me.”

His body seemed to tense up more, the softest hitch in his breath alerting you of his discomfort.

“Are you okay?” You ask, leaning away from his shoulder to glance into his face. His eyes remain fixed on the point, his teeth clenched behind his closed lips.

In one final attempt to put him more at ease, you lean up and gently touch your lips to his right cheek. A soft gasp along with the turn of his cheek inwards had you pull away from him to check in one more.

“Sweetheart, what's wrong-?” You attempt to ask, he immediately speaks over the top of your concerned tone with an unsure and elevated tone. He avoided your gaze with his eyes, but kept his face turned towards you.

"-Look, I know you've got someone. M-Maybe even a couple of someone's. I know I'm not what you want-...” He utters quickly, his words tumbling over his lips faster than he can hold them back, “...-I just want you to know that you're what I want. You're the only one I want. If you could be that for me, for just a little while, I'll be so good to you. Please.”

You're left stunned. You’d often play into your friendship a little with some light banter and flirting, simply to see how far he'll play along. Flustering him, watching him hide his smile by downturning his face, was one of your favorite things to behold. Whether you were working, or relaxing in your home for the night with a few of the others - he was often flustered with your words and body language.

He quickly turned his head more and angled his chin down, seeking out your lips with his own. He hovered just before making contact, dancing with the borders of friendship and giving in to his craving for something more.

“I suppose you do need something beyond a simple kiss on the cheek this time,” you smiled at him, cradling his cheek beneath your right hand and drawing him closer, “You've been so unbelievably good to me, afterall.”

Smiling broadly, you lean forward to press your lips gently against his in a chaste kiss. He deeply and sharply inhaled through his nose, a subtle whimper rising from within his mouth. This small peck ended as soon as it began, his body chasing yours upon your retreat. He wordlessly called with his body to you, beckoning you into another kiss.

You give him just a touch more than the kiss prior: a real kiss that is deep, long and loving. A kiss that leaves him begging for more and more. Any time he thinks you may end it, any time that you start to slow down or lighten the pressure, he’s grasping to have you impossibly closer and begging you not to break your lips from his.

In his mind, he is crying for you, screaming for this moment to never cease. “Just give me a little more, anything. I'm sorry I'm not what you want but could you please keep doing it? Please, please? As a reward?”

“I was good!” He continued his inner monologue, hungrily claiming your lips against his own, “I can keep being good for you.”

You could feel his desperation from each kiss he placed upon your lips, hungrily seeking more and more each time he broke one kiss to lead into another.

“I’ll be so good,” he whispered into your skin, his breath tickling against your lips as your eyes widened in response, “Please. I'll be good. So, so good.”

“Sweetheart- mmmfph!” you whispered his name as he consumed your words with his mouth hurridly, his eyes flinching as he drew his body closer.

“Y-Yes?” He stuttered, his knees crawling up onto the cushioned base of the sofa as he prowled towards you. You responded by inching away from him and bringing your hands down to cup behind his thighs.

Urging him towards you with your hands, you press your back against the frame of the back-rest of the sofa, and usher him to straddle your lap. His hands flew up to your cheeks, his long fingertips finding the hair behind your ears and lacing them within it.

He hastily pressed his lips into yours, turning his head and moaning against your mouth. Prying open your lips with his, he hurriedly sought your tongue out with his own: savoring every moment you were granting him your undivided romantic attention.

Raking your hands over his thighs, you drew them up to his hips: fingers dancing along the hemline of his shirt. He winced away, a huffed laugh in reaction to your gentle touch, a laugh that caught within his mouth as you tickled his skin.

He reached his hands down over your own, breaking your contact away from his stomach and placed them on the back rest beside your head. He interlaced his fingers with your own, deepening the kiss as you took every moment of affection he was pressing into you.

“Sweetheart,” you whispered once more, attempting to break away your lips from his to no avail.

“Please,” he whimpered against your lips, “Please, let me keep kissing you,” he sobbed, kissing the corner of your lips and uttering, “I just want to kiss you.”

Your eyes widened, darting down to his lips and back to his beautiful eyes. Your lips parted as you began articulating your thoughts, halting only as he drew his fingers to your lips and pressed against them softly.

“Please.”

[jeeaark]

More of a silly crack theory than anything

A befuddling moment for me was when Squid Buddy was very adamant about not helping a fellow adventurer out. Perhaps it would've had more logical if Jaheira was not there, but. Jaheira was there, my squiddude.

Maybe Emps still had a hard time believing in the power of friendship???? But uh-

I like to think it was really because the Emperor heard one too many spooky BG2 stories about Minsc during their time in the hive.

don't take this comic seriously, all in light jest Edit: Aight, my two brain cells are working again and realized I coulda just looked at the BG3 Wiki to sort out what's up with the statue thing, HA. Anyway, I still like the idea Emps somehow figured out statue Minsc was real Minsc before he poofed back to normal and got captured, whether the timeline is accurate enough for that to work is still confusing to me and- I'm not gonna think about it~

[cemetery-sunset]

🍖How the Sawyer Family Self Destructs

Texas Chain Saw Massacre Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Trigger warnings: self harm, cutting, eating problems, drugs, drinking, verbal and physical abuse, mentions of murder, canon-typical violence

Word count: 2k

☮️Chop-Top

Chop is a messy one. He mostly ignores his own problems, mental and physical, and makes jokes about all of them, he takes nothing seriously and just decides not to fix any problem he has. He never talks seriously about his time in the army, he only ever drops hints about what happened through jokes. The only thing he will be slightly serious about is the plate in his head. He’s only slightly serious about it when he needs help with something like cleaning it or trying to get a dent out. Even when that’s happening, he’s being stupid and making jests about the situation.

Sometimes he genuinely forgets to eat, he gets too distracted or too focused on some project… and sometimes he just decides not to. The food problems come from his time in the military. He got little food, much less any good food, when he was in Vietnam and it changed his relationship with eating. He usually gets forced to sit down and eat with the family. If he doesn’t eat with the family, he’s not going to eat for one reason or another.

He spends quite a lot of time smoking weed and trying to forget everything. Sometimes when he gets too high, he ends up blacking out and when he comes down, he doesn’t really know what he’s said or done. He thinks that’s funny.

Bobby always has his lighter on him, for smoking and for scratching his plate. Sometimes Chop uses his lighter and burns himself. He likes feeling the heat on his hand and seeing the wounds that he can inflict. He just likes playing with the flames and ends up burning himself, whether by accident or not.

He burns himself more than he cuts himself, but he still loves doing both. Sometimes he will make patterns or designs on his skin, sometimes he just gets too into it and ends up slicing up his whole arm or leg. It starts out just wanting to feel something and then his brain switches into a tunnel vision and he just keeps going, getting too excited about the look and the feeling. It’s usually not deep, they’re just on the surface; just enough to bleed and leave small scars.

📷Nubbins

Nubbins is the most pathetic one in the most dictionary sense. The biggest thing he does is constantly seek out abuse from his family. It’s mostly Drayton that gives it to him, but Nancy and Johnny are not the nicest to him either. Drayton constantly hits him and degrades him and yet Nubbins always comes back for more. There’s no way he can stop, he always ends up seeking out his brother and expecting a different result. He just ends up with more bruises and cuts.

He really neglects any type of self care. He never bathes, he only actually cleans himself when somebody forces him too and even then it’s a huge chore for him so they usually just clean him up themselves. Nubbins is just overall really bad at taking care of himself. Sometimes it’s a simple mistake of forgetting but a lot of times he just doesn’t care enough about himself to take care of his body, much less his brain or heart.

The most obvious one is that he cuts. It’s not crazy and frenzied like how Bobby does it. Nubbins is more for quality over quantity. He does them deep and slow; he makes sure that they hurt and will leave a scar for him to fond over. It doesn’t happen super often, just when he’s specifically feeling a little frantic that day. It’s like the world gets too much and he needs something to focus on. He loves how the wounds look and prods at them and plays with his blood. He never cleans the wounds or wraps them up on purpose, he likes when things get messy and he gets blood stains on his clothes.

🌼Sissy

Most of Sissy’s self destruction is the way he just plainly ignores all of her needs. She will eat very little, barely bathe, forget to drink until she’s nearly sick, she is just reckless and apathetic about literally everything. She has to be dragged into the bath and she will throw hands over it, she only ever eats at the specific mealtimes and always has small portions. With her constant bare feet, she never cares about how dirty she is or if she gets any injuries while she works. If she does get a cut or bruise while working, she pokes it and makes it worse on purpose. It’s not necessarily to force a scar or make the blood spill, she just likes the feeling and gets caught up in causing herself that pain.

She is similar to Bubba in terms of recklessness. Sissy is very rash and not necessarily elegant in her movements or practices. She’s accidently hurt herself with all manner of tools and weapons around the property. It could be tripping from running too fast, smashing her finger with a hammer or slicing her own hand with her straight razor while sharpening it. It’s not that she has no regard for herself because she is a servant, like Bubba. Sissy is just so confident in herself that she forgets how fragile human beings are. She remembers how fragile they are when she’s got victims in front of her, and she constantly reminds them of this fact. She just forgets that her own body is also just as fragile. It’s like she holds herself on a different level than normal human beings.

Another similarity to Bubba is the effect that the constant verbal, and sometimes physical, abuse has on her. Sissy is a punching bag for Drayton, Nancy, and even Johnny sometimes. Nubbins and Chop sometimes make jokes at her expense, and she has a lot of trouble taking them as jokes. All of the negative comments and horrible things said to her really stick with her and bother her. She struggles with her identity as she flips back and forth between the holy cult confident mentality and the poor abuse victim who can’t do anything right. She tries her best to act like it never bothers her but unlike Johnny, Sissy is terrible at poker and struggles with staying calm and collected. Her emotions always get the best of her and she ends up blowing up and having a fit over it all, which never ends well for her. She usually ends up with a few more new bruises to poke at.

When Bobby is having one of his smoke sessions, Sissy likes to join in. She likes feeling that blacked out, fuzzy-brained giddy attitude. She also brings some of her own drugs to the party though. The plants she grows for her poison clouds have many different uses and she’s studied them well. Sissy will smoke them and end up tripping bad, she never feels good afterward, but that out of body experience that she feels is so otherworldly that she could never just give that up. Part of her love comes from when she ran with multiple different cults on her adventures. Some taught her that she would see god if she smoked, some taught her that she would be god if she smoked. The habit started there and then just kept going. She doesn’t do it all the time, it’s like a special thing that is reserved for either a certain day or when she’s really struggling. She does get the normal high with Chop more often than she uses her own special supply.

🐔Bubba

Bubba’s is pretty straight forward. He doesn’t cut or burn himself (on purpose, he struggles with being careful). He will actively hit himself though. Sometimes it’s his fists pounding at his head, sometimes he hits his head on a wall, or something of that sort. He’s grown so used to Drayton’s abuse that at this point in his life, it almost brings him a sort of comfort. Bubba knows that no matter how much Drayton hits him and yells at him that Drayton will always be there to look out for him. Whenever he hits himself, it is his way of punishing himself, like he did something wrong and he knows it. But it’s also a type of comfort to him. When things get too overwhelming, he needs something to bring him down a few notches, and that just so happens to be forceful punches to his own head.

Bubba does the same thing that Nubbins does, they both always run back to Drayton’s abuse. No matter how big the bruises are, or how much the words hurt Bubba, the big boy will always bow down and serve his big brother. All he wants is a tiny taste of praise but Drayton will never give him any. Even when he does a good job, Drayton will make up random things to be mad at. Bubba believes himself to just be a toy, a puppet for everybody else to use for whatever reason. He’s been conditioned to always listen to Drayton, help chase down and kill victims and always be ready to jump at anybody’s beck and call. He was told so many times that that is all he will ever be, so now he believes it.

Bubba is a very large and strong man. Sometimes he is clumsy with his tools and weapons, but more often than not, he is just simply reckless. He throws all caution into the wind and takes no regard for his own safety and wellbeing. If he’s worried about anybody’s safety it’s his family’s, never his own. He runs around with his chain saw, cuts meat up too fast and doesn’t pay attention when he’s sewing a project together. He hurts himself constantly and never takes care of the injuries. They’re usually not very big wounds, but they add up after a while. Bubba is always covered in scars, cuts and bruises from many different sources.

🔪Johnny

Besides working on the cars or mechanics around the property, Johnny’s favorite pastime is having a drink at the local bar. He gets very indulgent with his drinks and has at least a few beers daily. When he’s having a particularly hard day, he indulges in the harder stuff, but he doesn’t allow himself to ever blackout or get so drunk that he makes a fool of himself in public, he has an image to uphold. He doesn’t even let his guard down enough to get black out drunk in the safety of his own home, he would rather just have a constant buzz throughout a normal day.

As strong and important as Johnny is to the family, he gets a lot of verbal and sometimes physical abuse from Drayton and Nancy in particular. Drayton only ever yells horrible things at him, the old man fears what would happen if he ever tried to hit the much larger and stronger man. Nancy is a different story. She only ever speaks highly of her son to other people, but she holds him at an impossible standard and always reminds him of that. She hits him too. Nancy is the only person who ever gets away with hitting The Johnny Sawyer. He’s gotten more than a few bruises from her. Johnny tries to hold up the facade that nothing bothers him and he is super confident, but that’s not entirely true. The negative comments and constant berating really does wear him down and he believes what they all say about him. He makes sure not to show his weakness to any of them, but it just cuts open his insides and leaves invisible scars that hurt just as much as his real scars.

Johnny has a huge love for his knives. He loves the action of cutting people or animals open and seeing the damage it, and he, can do. It gives him this crazy power trip and gets him really excited. Sometimes Johnny takes his knife and cuts himself. It’s nothing crazy and it doesn’t happen too often, he likes the pain of it and how it makes him look. He thinks the battle scars make him look stronger and tougher. He would never admit it to anybody that a fair number of the many scars littering his body are self inflicted. It helps his facade that he naturally gets a ton of cuts and wounds from fighting victims and his general blue collar working.

[helloaugustmoon]

this is so classic wattpad plot but I literally do not care

Michael Jackson x she/her!reader

·˚ ◌༘͙[Keep The Faith] ! ˊ

Fishing has been one of Michael’s favorite hobbies for some time. Not in the traditional sense - he cannot sit still for long enough to actually go fishing - but rather by his own definition. Whether it be peering at the faces in the crowd at a concert, seeing faces pressed against the windows of cars and buildings he’s in, fishing is a term that Michael dedicates to peacefully viewing pretty creatures that appear just to see him when he’s passing through. In no way is it dehumanizing; he views it as comparing people to other beautiful things in nature, and in a comical sense too, of course. By now, his team is well aware of his traditions when it comes to fishing, only laughing along and agreeing with his comments pertaining to ‘nice fish’, all in jest and never something he’d consider seriously pursuing; he’d feel he had too much power over a fan that it wouldn’t be fair or just, it would be taking advantage, and that’s not something that sits well with him.

That is, until your face catches his eye.

Fan after fan came and went, greeting Michael and taking pictures while he signed their copies of ‘Bad’ and gifted him their most sincere praises. It was certainly lovely, never something he takes for granted, but to an extent, the social scale of the event can become quite tiring. He’s grateful the line is nearing its end, hoping that soon enough, he’ll be able to rest. But when Michael lifts his gaze from the table in front of him and his eyes meet yours, when he sees your smile- he swears to every holy thing he’s ever known, his heart stops. You aren’t screaming or hyperventilating, but you are trembling in a way that stirs the gentleman in him, wishing the circumstances would allow for him to perhaps offer his jacket to you. The smile on your face as you look at Michael is reflected right back at you, and his previous idea of having any power over a fan is single handedly erased by the existence of you. In that moment, had you wished it, he’d have dropped to one knee and ripped his own heart out to offer it to you. One word from you, and he’d do anything for you. All you had to do, was-

“Hi, Michael.”

And he’s yours.

Your voice is the sweetest melody he’s ever heard, and he already knows it’ll inspire more songs than anything ever has before. You are the siren to lull him to sleep, to guide him to the pearly gates of heaven someday, and he is nothing if not a devout worshiper at the altar that is you.

“I don’t want to take up too much of your time, you’ve already been here so long- but, I just wanted to thank you for the music you make and the message of love that-“

Is now and has only ever been meant for you, he realizes.

Words continue to fall from your lips like a steady stream, a peaceful and thought-out poem that touches every part of Michael’s very soul. And he sits there, smiling up at you as you stand before him, in absolute awe of you. The stars of the night couldn’t hope to hold a candle to the ones in your eyes.

“You don’t need to thank me, it’s my pleasure. It brings me joy to know that my music brings you joy, too.” He answers, his own voice softer than he’s ever heard it.

Your smile turns shy, then, and Michael wishes he had the kind of magic to seal this moment in a bottle, or lock it away in a drawer, so that on the lonely nights he foresees in his future he might gaze upon this moment again. You.

“What’s your name?” He asks you, the question feeling more like a desperate plea than a general curiosity, and when you do tell him your name, it’s immediately stitched into the very fabric of his being.

He wants to compliment your name for how pretty it sounds, how well it suits you, how he’ll close his eyes and whisper it to the sky before he falls asleep and wishes for you without being capable of waiting for a shooting star to do so. He wants to, more than anything. But for risk of seeming too forward, Michael only allows his smile to widen, tells you it was wonderful meeting you, that he hopes you’ll have a pleasant rest of your day, and then passes you back your copy of his album - signed with his name and a kiss that he simply couldn’t resist leaving for you.

Michael’s team exchange glances when his eyes linger on you, watching you leave until you are completely out of sight. At which time, he releases a sigh that is impossible to mistake as anything other than a swoon. With his longing being so obvious, a member of Michael’s team steps forward.

“Would you like us to ensure tickets for tomorrow night’s show, Sir?” The security guard offers, and is surprised when Michael only shakes his head, not offering a verbal answer as he turns his attention to the next person in line.

That night, Michael is ringing up an impressive phone bill from his hotel room, rambling to Janet about every shade in your eyes, every intricacy of you, every cadence you spoke in. After an hour, he finally leaves enough time for his sister to actually respond.

“So you made certain she’ll be at the show tomorrow, right?” It almost sounds rhetorical, not to mention sarcastic, coming from Janet - not that either would surprise Michael.

“No, no,” He shakes his head, leaning against the wall as he holds the phone to his ear, careful not to step too far from the cord. “I don’t want to enforce or engineer anything- that’s not love, that’s a script. If I’m meant to see her again, I will.”

Janet sighs at this, knowing Michael’s mind is set and that means he’ll be too stubborn to consider any alternative; his views on love and fairytales are so absolute, he’d rather spend a lifetime waiting for you and loving you anyway, than use the powers at his disposal to set up a meeting that could lead to a love story.

That said, Janet also knows that for you to have captured Michael’s attention so, you must be some girl. Women have thrown themselves at him from the moment he entered the spotlight - for him to not only notice one amongst the rest, but yearn for you so obviously and without any trace of hesitance, you must be something special. For that, Janet can only pray alongside Michael that somehow, some way, you will find your way back to him.

During rehearsals the following day, Michael finds himself envisioning you in front of the stage, using the idea of dancing to impress you, to woo you as his motivation for giving the performance tonight everything he’s got. No matter how bright the overhead lights of the stadium are, he can picture your smile widening when he dances around onstage, pointing at you as a means of dedicating the song to you, and you alone. He intends to do so regardless of the fact you won’t actually be there. Perhaps he’ll point at the stars, lest you see the footage and misunderstand that he’d ever point at another girl again.

The screams of the crowd do little to quiet the thoughts of you that continue to whirl around the mind of a lyrical genius, even when he runs out onstage to greet them. Breaking into the first song of the night, Michael puts his all into his performance as he always does, but can't help feeling that tonight he has a heavenly blessing in the form of your smile lingering in his thoughts, pushing him that little bit harder. It isn’t until the end of the first song that Michael stops moving for long enough to scan the faces he can actually see from where he stands, the distance from the stage to the front row being further than he’d like. Pausing only momentarily for a brief interval of fishing, Michael’s eyes trace over the front row. And then, he does a double take.

His heart must have been playing a trick on his eyes, surely.

He looks back again, feeling an irregularity in his own pulse when he struggles to find you in the sea of faces again, until whoever had been cruel enough to temporarily block the view of you happens to move just enough for Michael to see you again. Front row, clinging to the barricade like your life depends on it. And you’re smiling at him just the same.

His eyes lock with yours, the band behind him exchanging confused glances. By now, Michael should have given the cue for the second song to start, but the perfectionist has been entirely distracted by the very definition of perfect that he’s been waiting his whole life for. It takes several seconds for him to accept the reality that you really are right there, but as soon as he does, the smile on his face is so big he’s concerned it’ll split his face in half. Giving the cue for the second song to start, Michael points right at you.

“You knock me off of my feet now baby, HOO!”

Throughout ‘The Way You Make Me Feel’, Michael’s gaze connects with yours, and he doesn’t shy away from devoting the song to you in every way he can. If it weren’t for the rehearsed role of the woman onstage that he’s barely even noticing, he’d have pulled you up here with him. Instead, Michael settles for pointing at you, winking at you, and holding your gaze while singing lyrics and dancing in ways that leave no room for misinterpretation.

He continues this for the remainder of the setlist, a plan forming in his head over the course of the next few songs. Because now that divine intervention has resulted in you being right here with him again, who is he to stand and do nothing in the face of that? Of you?

With the instrumental for Liberian Girl beginning behind him, Michael sets his plan into action. Against the better judgment of his security, he jumps from the edge of the stage, making a beeline for where you stand in the front row, every face except yours blurring into his peripheral vision, the increasing volume of the screams of the crowd fading into nothing with the way your smile brightens, the closer he gets to you. Realizing how disastrous this could be, Michael’s security lunge forward to lift you over to the barrier, holding back the other fans that try to climb over with you. And then, Michael’s hand is taking yours, holding it so gently, his free hand bringing his mic back to his lips.

“Liberian girl, you came and you changed my world, a love so brand new…” He sings, eyes holding yours with reverie as he guides you by the hand until you’re standing onstage with him.

The very second there’s enough time in between lyrics, Michael lifts your hand to kiss your knuckles, and that shy smile he’s already dreamt of appears on your face again. With the gentlest movement, he pulls you closer to him, inviting you to erase the distance that he’s desperate to be without, and you’re hardly going to hesitate. You let go of his hand to instead wrap both of your arms around his neck, and Michael has never cursed not having a headset more than on the occasion that he can now only hold your waist with one arm because he’s required to use the other to hold up his microphone. Sometimes, the world is too cruel to comprehend, he thinks. Still, a man can't complain about getting to hold you in any capacity.

“More precious than any pearl…” Michael sings, his voice soft in your ear, intimate despite the scale of the concert itself that surrounds you.

Unable to resist the urge a moment longer, he starts to sway with you in time with the music, melting into the most perfect slow dance on a stage with an audience of thousands, but feeling like the only two souls in the universe.

When the song draws to a close with notes that have you ascending to an astral plane, the crowd screams with enthusiasm like never before, and Michael lowers his microphone. Wrapping both arms around your waist at long last, he leans to your ear to ensure that you can hear him.

“I prayed I’d see you again.” He tells you, his voice so sincere.

“You must be on pretty good terms with God, then.” It’s all you can do to prevent yourself from collapsing in his arms at words like the ones he just spoke.

“I think I must be.” Michael chuckles. “Now, I owe him more than ever.” His arms tighten around your waist, and your heart splutters in your chest.

Knowing that this moment is one that needs to be put on hold for now, Michael sighs, moving one hand to hold the back of your head.

“Would you mind waiting for me, backstage?” He wonders, and when you shake your head into the crook of his neck, his entire body relaxes with relief.

“See you after. Break a leg.” You wish Michael luck, surprising him with a kiss on his cheek and then stepping away from him.

His hand trails down your arm, to your wrist, and holds your hand for every microsecond he can until you slip from his grasp, but his smile is unwavering. Michael watches you leave, waiting until you’re safely situated backstage with his best security guard at your side, and then he blows you a kiss that you catch in an instant. With an effortless, expert kick in the air, Michael breaks into his next song. And he cant help looking over at you longingly every so often, just to check the perfect vision of you is still there, still waiting for him. Still smiling at him.

[mister-tom-a-dildo-lover]

You know that new anime where the guy hears his bosses porny thoughts about him whenever they end up touching? Think of that for Tomarry. I know you said you don't do porn for these, but that doesn't meant you can't make Harry experience a wide range of Tom's interesting thoughts! Also congrats on the milestone! :3

A Cherry Magic! AU. XD

Fandom: HP Ship: Tomarry RATED: M-Rated(for language and descriptions XD) TAGS: Cherry Magic! AU, Drama, Humor, Explicit Language, Innuendo, Flirting, Pornographic Thoughts, Magic(in-universe version), Homophobia(in thoughts only)

~.O.~

For Want of a Cherry!

It was just supposed to be a legend! A little folk tale that was supposed to shame people for not being sexually adventurous or something! Because, of course, people would have to put so much stock into whether or not you have sexual experience.

The day that Harry James Potter turned 30 his world was flipped upside down. His friend, Ron, had told him about that. little legend last week, teasing. him about the fact that he was still single. His wife, Hermione, who had been their friend since they were in primary school, had smacked him upside the head and told him that there was no shame in not being in a romantic relationship, nor was their shame in either sleeping around or not sleeping around.

He'd been on blind dates of all sorts over the years. Some even set up by his friends themselves, but maybe he was just really boring. None of them had elicited any kind of reaction, regardless of how attractive the other person was.

Maybe he was just one of those people who was not destined to be in a romantic relationship of any sort. There were people who went their whole lives not getting married and not having children, and they weren't miserable for it. It was completely possible to live a fulfilling life without having a partner at your side.

But the one thing that Harry could never really let go of was the fact that he was kind of bitter. People his age liked to go out to the clubs, or go drinking, or try out illegal substances. They were experimenting with different forms of entertainment and finding the places that helped them be themselves. And Harry had no interest in doing things like that.

He was probably the biggest introvert in the world, despite all of the sports he played back in school. Despite all of the events he had been forced to attend to support his parents and their business. Despite all of the dinners the company he worked for orchestrated constantly.

Harry James Potter was just avoidant and hated when he had to go places and be with people!

But deep down, he did wish that he could finally have some kind of reaction to somebody! Being, the perpetual third wheel that was resting outside of all of his friends and their romantic relationships was really annoying.

And now here he was on the day of his 30th birthday. Now, suddenly, frighteningly aware of the fact that that little tale that Ron had told him in jest last week was apparently true!

The barista at the coffee shop he went to every day had always given him a bad vibe. He couldn't really explain it because she had always been positively pleasant, but it always felt very fake. Enough for Hermione to smack him and tell him that judging without just cause wasn't good and made him look sexist.

He didn't personally agree with that but knew it was something Hermione took seriously, and he'd never experienced anything sexist save for the time a guy thought he was a girl back during fifth form.

But today the bad vibes were proven to have been legit!

He'd reached out to accept his iced spiced coffee and his hand brushed the barista's fingers in the process. His mind was instantly flooded with her voice despite her mouth being closed.

He's so hot! He'd be great boyfriend material if he was more masculine and less poof-y!

For a moment he thought he'd imagined it. But no... he'd frozen in place and as such, their connected hands revealed more of her mind to him.

Maybe I can turn him straight!

He mumbled a nervous word of gratitude and shuffled off before he could hear any more.

Harry had to find out how this worked and if it was there to stay!

Also, the barista was a homophobe. Nothing like vindication for the vibe check failing.

~.O.~

God, his hair is perfect. It just flops around when he moves and gets in his eyes so adorably! I want to tuck it behind his ear and cradle his face between my hands!

I wonder if my mom will make curry tonight.

Those glasses made him look so dashing too! I could stare at him all day.

Sandra looks like shite, as always. I've always been prettier than her so what does John see in her!

Maybe, if I play my cards right, I can get him to agree to come to dinner with me tonight. Maybe I can even convince him to come back home with me. It's his birthday after all. I'd treat him so well too.

Fucking birds shat all over my bloody car and now I have to deal with this bastard's cheery face all damn day.

I don't even like him like that but he keeps coming on to me and he knows how I feel about it but he just won't stop! I'll need to call my brother. He'll scare Ted away.

I would bend him over the desk in my office and eat him out so well he wouldn't be able to walk afterward.

Harry flushed instantly and looked around, finding himself trapped in the lift with about a dozen people and five of them were touching him at once!

A hand on his shoulder made him jump, and he found Tom Riddle, his boss, standing behind him. The person Harry was practically leaning against in the far corner of the lift to try and avoid everyone else! The owner of that delightfully built torso.

The only one on the lift who could possibly know it was Harry's birthday... meaning... those horny thoughts had been from... him...

"Are you well, Harry? Your face is flushed," he said, placing a hand directly on Harry's brow to check.

His mind was flooded with Tom's thoughts immediately.

His skin is so smooth. I want to put my teeth on his neck and leave it ringed in bruises. I'd have him sit on my face as I decorate his thighs with my marks. My tongue shoving so deep inside that he sees star-

"I'm fine!" Harry said, backing away a bit, only to be assaulted with the thoughts of too many people at once. He stepped right back into the near-circle of Tom's arms, and tried to ignore how pleased this seem to make the man who usually seemed so unaffected by everything.

Since when was he harbouring... thoughts of this nature?

About Harry of all people?!

Tom's horny thinking was definitely more preferable than a whole host of screaming minds all complaining about different things at once, but God, was it embarrassing. He just thought like that when his face showed absolutely nothing!

If we were alone in here, I could have my way with Harry all I want. Hell, I'm certain I could fuck him from behind without anyone even noticing him sitting all pretty on my cock. It's sixty floors until we get to ours after all. If I stand in the corner with Harry leaning against my chest, I could get him off well before we'd have to leave. Shove my cock between his thighs and fuck them good and hard and push just the tip in at the end- he'd be a mess all day.

And Tom's hands were just resting on Harry's waist, holding him still as his face displayed concern that did not match what his mind was going on about!

Eventually, Harry was freed from the confines of the lift, but still found Tom at his side, holding to his elbow with most avid attention. "Perhaps you should take off for the day," he suggested kindly, brows knitted together. "I'd much rather you be healthy and whole."

And in good condition for when I wreck that arse of yours.

Harry flushed and shook his head. "I'm fine," he reiterated. "I can work just fine." And get to his desk which was across the office from Tom's personal office.

"Let me know if you change your mind. If all goes well, I'll treat you to dinner tonight to celebrate your birthday."

And then take you home and fuck you good and proper.

Wow.

So, it seemed... that Harry's body could react to something after all.

It just required Tom Riddle to be the one saying it.

~.O.~

A/N: Here you go! XD

I can't believe I did this.

[Ko-Fi]

[writersfantacy]

Tobirama Senju Fluff

Imagining Tobi as an Uchiha's significant other is quite the scenario. He might tease their partner's clan in jest—or so it seems, though his insults aimed at Madara are delivered with earnest seriousness.

He would only reveal his gentle side to you. It would take him a considerable amount of time, and by that, I mean a very long time, to become accustomed to your presence. He had grown accustomed to solitude since the time of war. Hashirama was a good brother, yet he often spent time with Madara. While Hashirama found companionship, Tobi remained alone. So he can't get accustomed to your approaches. Being an Uchiha, he's inclined to doubt your intentions. He simply can't understand why you, a beautiful, young, and cheerful woman, would be interested in someone as grumpy and serious as him.

His emotions are in turmoil. He's struggling to decide whether his feelings are mere attraction or genuine love. Having never fallen in love before, the thought of being in love with an Uchiha feels almost overwhelming. Whenever he sees you speaking with another man, his heart aches, but he can't pinpoint the reason. Whenever you undertake a risky mission, he becomes worried about you, yet he can't explain why.

Hashirama has noticed his younger brother's behavior and often teases Tobirama about his crush, finding it humorous and entertaining. Hashirama attempts to assist Tobirama by encouraging him to converse with you. Occasionally, he might even broach topics like marriage just to see the reaction from both of you.

Upon hearing that Madara was seeking a potential mate for you, he implored Hashirama to intervene. Unwilling to watch you marry another without making an attempt, Hashirama advised him to speak with you directly. But how should he explain it to you? How should he ask for your marriage? What if you reject him? These thoughts would occupy his mind. He would never reveal his nervousness, as his ego is substantial. However, his nights would be restless, consumed with thoughts about the outcome.. He often imagines you in his dream ;)

Eventually, he will muster the courage to invite you for a simple walk. Strolling beside you near your cherished place, chatting about the things you love, attentively listening as you speak of some matters that doesn't make any sense, and gazing at you with eyes full of longing. He would notice you struggling with your hair falling in front of your eyes and would assist by gently tucking those strands behind your ears, all the while maintaining eye contact. This is the ideal moment to propose; he leans in closer, resting his head against yours.

"Y/n...I think I am falling in love with you" he would say sincerely, his voice holding a type of vulnerability you have never seen before. He would wait for your response. If you said yes he would kiss you deeply.

[seoulmatez]

hellooo. hope your days is going lovely and that this gives you some inspo! 💕 katsuki + childhood friends and there's only one bed

hello hello~ thanks for the suggestion! very cute scenario so i hope u like the outcome! :)) writing warmups if u wanna request!

getting caught up in a mission prefectures away from home means having to spend the night in a hotel—much to bakugo’s dismay. you don’t blame him, you prefer sleeping in your own bed too, but after such a taxing fight, all you really care about is getting to relax for the rest of the night—even if that rest and relaxation is in a hotel.

you’re barely able to hold your arm up to swipe the key card that will allow you into your room. a beep sounds in the hall and you use the same hand to turn the doorknob. upon inspection, it’s a nice accommodation.

there’s just one thing…

as soon as you see the singular mattress with its headboard against the wall, you know your companion is going to have something to say about it. his heavy footsteps trail behind you and the moment you can no longer make them out, his voice fills the brief silence. “what the hell?”

you roll your eyes and drop the bag of items you picked up on the way at your feet. there should be enough in there to get you through the night and tomorrow morning before you’re able to head back home.

in all honesty, you didn’t mean to book a single bed but it’s been a long, exhausting day and you jumped at the first option presented to you by the hotel staff. she must have assumed the two of you were together—partners in more than the hero sense.

“chill out, dynamight.” your use of his hero name earns you an unimpressed look that’s makes you grin. you stretch your arms above your head and let out a satisfied groan. “it’s no big deal.”

he clicks his tongue in annoyance. “i’m not sleeping in a bed with you.”

you’d be offended if you hadn’t been subject to his snide remarks for practically all your life.

“look, if you wanna go all the way back downstairs and argue with that poor woman about room availability, be my guest.” you have no intention of doing that, choosing instead to slip off the gloves of your costume. “but i am getting ready for bed.”

he seems to think it over for a moment before begrudgingly setting his gauntlets on the desk. whether he admits it or not, you’ve always been his voice of reason.

the two of you quietly take turns using the bathroom to freshen up. you’re already comfortable on your chosen side of the mattress when bakugo emerges from the bathroom, donned in the touristy pajama pants you picked out for him.

you have the matching shirt.

he makes his way over to the bed and there’s a jesting comment on the tip of your tongue about how dramatic he was earlier, insisting he wouldn’t sleep beside you. though, it never makes it past your lips because instead of joining you, the man grabs the pillow and plops them on the floor.

you frown. “seriously dude?”

he shoots you a look that all but says: i already told you.

“just get in the bed. i don’t wanna hear you complain about how sore you are in the morning.”

your words don’t have the convincing effect you hoped they would. you try a different approach.

“i’ll stay on my side,” you tell him and hold up three fingers, “scout’s honor.”

bakugo highly doubts that you’ll stick to your word—he’s seen how you sleep on the occasion that you two share a room with two separate beds. still, the thought of waking up even more stiff and uncomfortable than he already is almost makes him shiver. and it’ll only be for a few hours.

“fine,” he agrees, bending down to pick up the pillow and replace it on the bed. he peels back the blanket and situates himself beside you, making an effort to leave as much space as possible between you and him. he turns to you. “just be sure to stay over there.”

you snort at how serious his expression is. “aw, is katsuki afraid of catching my cooties?”

he lays down so his back is facing you. with that and the darkness of the room, there’s no way you can see the rose hue blooming on his cheeks.

“shut up and go to sleep.”

[strangelittlestories]

“Has anyone seen Bells?” Asked Queen Aisha of the Bloody Republic.

“The court jester?” Replied Monarch Estragon of the Everflowering Forest.

“Jest her? I hardly know her.” Quipped Aisha. Estragon groaned. “But seriously, yes, she’s gone missing and I need to find her before we all kill each other.”

Aisha paused, then added.

“And there is also a separate matter, a very serious matter, which I need to discuss with her.”

---

In the parliament of royalty, comedy was no laughing matter. Every nation of the world sent their king, queen or monarch to represent them; almost nowhere else could you find such an incredible concentration of power. Whether inherited, proclaimed or elected, every royal who was worth talking about was there.

And where there were royals worth talking about, you had best believe that you would also find a jester.

And not just any jester, but *the* jester. The winner of the grand satirical tourney. The mirthster with the sharpest wit, the most dextrous contortions of mind and body, and the constitution to withstand immense pressure and inevitable poisonings.

The current jester, known only as ‘The Bells That Herald Ruin’, would often claim to be the single most important person out of all the assembled political powerhouses. Only she was not bound by the shackles of diplomacy. Only she could speak the truth in that house of lies, damned lies and hubristics.

And she was currently lying facedown in the gutter.

---

“C’mon.” Queen Aisha said, lifting the bloody jester up off the floor. “It’s time to court.”

“Right, yeah…” The Bells That Herald Ruin mumbled through a mouthful of blood, whiskey and teeth, none of which she was sure were her own. “I’m the most imp’tant p’son there…y’know?”

“Oh, no. You can’t see the royals in this condition.” The Queen carefully wiped some blood off of the jester’s brow.

“You should see the other guys- demons- … fuckos.” The Bells That Herald Ruin abandoned her attempt to catergorise the entities with which she’d been brawling. She decided, instead, to concentrate on nestling as closely as possible into the crook of Queen Aisha’s shoulder.

“I could hardly miss them.” Aisha said as she stepped carefully over one of the other groaning and bloody bodies in the gutter. 

“So why’d you say it’s time for court if’n we’re not going … court?”

Queen Aisha took a moment to judge the jester’s level of injury and inebriation. She bit her lip.

“I said it’s time *to* court. As in, I’m about to start courting your ass.”

“You … you would court the court jester? Double court? Court squared?”

“We’ll start with coffee, doofus. And when you’re recovered, I’ll take you out on a date.”

“I’ll wear my jangliest hat.”

“...please don’t.”

[shipposttt]

The ship of the day: Victuuri

Names: Viktor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki

Ship Name(s): Victuuri

Original Content: Yuri!!! On Ice series (2016)

Ship info:

Yuri!!! On Ice is a series which follows pro figure skater Yuuri Katsuki, who is on the verge of retirement, on his route back to pro skating and recovering his competitive abilities.

Yuuri K returns to his hometown after a string of losses within competitions, going back to his family’s hot springs. World renowned skater Viktor Nikiforov, Yuuri’s long time motivation for skating and childhood obsession (?), crush (?), wins his fifth consecutive World Championship, inspiring Yuuri to practice the routine he used to win. Unbeknownst to him, his performance is recorded and uploaded to the internet, going viral, and causing Viktor to travel to Japan to request to be Yuuri’s coach for the next Grand Prix series- baring in mind said conversation takes place in the hot spring, with Viktor as naked as the day he was born and Yuuri as red as a lobster. Yuuri accepts and so starts the series of Viktor training Yuuri, growing closer as he realises its Yuuri’s emotions, not his physical abilities which make him struggle in competitions.

Between this, Yuuri and Viktor grow close and, within episode 5 (following his win at the Japan Figure Skating Championships) Yuri announces his Grand Prix programme theme to be ‘Love’, inspired by his feelings for Viktor. Despite feeling the pressure of expectations following his good performance in the first Grand Prix assignment, Viktor is able to help reinstall Yuuri’s confidence as he promises to have faith in him and to not worry about his own reputation. During his skate, Yuuri changes his final jump to Viktor’s signature move, a quadruple flip. This surprises Viktor, who runs to Yuuri as he leaves the rink, tackling him onto the ice and kissing him in front of everyone ‘because it’s the only way to surprise him back’. Later on, at another competition destination, Yuuri gifts Viktor a gold ring which matches his own- later on, Viktor refers to them as engagement rings, though its unclear whether this was in jest or meant seriously. He also states that he and Yuuri would get married when Yuuri won gold at the Grand Prix Final.  After this, they invite the other skaters to a dinner, where it’s revealed that during the previous year’s GPF banquet Yuri got drunk and started a dance off, also begging Viktor to come to his family hot spring and be his coach- though Yuuri had no memory of this event.

In the end, Yuuri and Viktor agree that whilst Viktor would return to skating for the next season, he would remain as Yuuri’s coach. With hat, they perform a pair ice dance edition of Viktor’s routine in the GPF exhibition event. Following the event, Yuuri moves to Russia to train alongside Viktor, finishing off the series there.

Type of Ship: Queer

The fandom at large regards the kiss, rings, and marriage comments as confirming their relationship canonically and I am inclined to agree, kissing someone is a bit extreme as being purely for a surprise without any romantic involvement- especially considering Viktor is representing Russia, which is known for its anti-lgbt+ views. Hence, I believe this relation is canon queer due to the actions of the pair throughout the series, which could be argued to not be platonic from the get-go, as Yuuri ran to see Viktor in a hot bath, which are traditionally enjoyed naked.

Thanks for reading!

Admin🦇

[bird-inacage]

Only Friends: Ray x Sand in Episode 2 Preview

This episode is likely to follow Ray and Sand's burgeoning friendship after their 'truce'. And we're off to see Ray's plush home. (Can we talk about Ray's furry cardigan look? It makes him look so smol/soft).

What I noticed is that Ray does not look stir crazy drunk here, if at all. That's a considerable green flag because Ray is choosing (whether unconsciously or intentionally) to spend time with Sand whilst he isn't massively under the influence. And alcohol is a huge crutch for him. There's something about this that warms my heart, especially when his group of friends love drinking and getting raucous - it's sort of reassuring to see Ray spend time with someone just as he is.

"That girl at the bar was cute. Is she your type?" "Has any guy hit on you before?" This is very early 'testing the waters' and being nosy dialogue. Ray's trying to see how open or personal Sand can be with him, whilst also finding out which way Sand swings.

Ray does find Sand attractive, but it's more curiosity or intrigue each of them has for the other at this stage, rather than anything overtly romantic. Besides, Ray still has feelings for his best friend at present.

Another little detail is Ray has records mounted on his walls, so seems to also have a keen interest in music. The two are seen record shopping together later on. We're also going to get the cigarette kiss. (Lord please explain to me why on earth they are so ungodly hot when smoking?)

Sand stays the night at Ray's, but seemingly just to sleep. Ray even does a sneaky peek at Sand as soon as he wakes up. It's actually adorable to see how clingy Ray is with Sand already. This boy clearly feels very comfortable with him. I mean - one night of friendship - and let's cuddle? Ray is obviously someone who likes being physically affectionate or touchy feely. It does make you wonder if he lives in a huge house all by himself and is understandably lonely.

This is also where Sand suggests he see a shrink (which is delivered partly in jest but also somewhat seriously). Could be a comment on Ray's drinking problem, or something further comes to light during their heart to heart that Sand picks up on.

Now this is the intriguing scene for me. Ray is wearing the same outfit he does at the strip club (white shirt, denim jacket number). It looks like Sand ends up crossing his path and is not happy with what he finds - as he's seen storming away. Firstly, what is he doing there? Did he follow Ray? Or is he also there by coincidence? Secondly, is this jealousy or he just doesn't approve of what and why Ray is there? Thirdly, Ray seems compelled to explain himself when Sand reacts in this way. Ohh am I sensing a pattern: (Ray does something to upset Sand, Sand gets in a huff, Ray pleads for forgiveness, and then they kiss and make-up. Cough.)

They seem to end up at Ray's house again. Unless this is actually the other way around, and they pre-drink at Ray's before heading to the strip club together.

My understanding is they don't sleep with each other until the kiss at Sand's place (on his balcony). So I'm guessing this episode is mostly going to be these two getting to know one another better.

[unhingedoveractivemuse]

Title: He’ll be himself in all ways possible

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Tags: First Kiss, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers

=========================================================

For someone who believes in the universe, Buck sure doesn’t realize it’s screaming until it screams right in his ears.

First, it was Eddie finally breaking down (which Buck should have seen coming), his calm mask of ‘I’m okay’ breaking upon another call with Christopher gone wrong.

Then, it was seeing Ortiz run for mayor, her pleasant mask for all to see in advertisements when they all knew that she will make people’s lives miserable because of something that wasn’t even their fault.

So, of course, that's when he starts noticing the truths and lies about people, himself and his now-ex included.

“It was all a lie,” Buck sighs, leaning into Eddie’s couch. Ever since the man's breakdown (which, thankfully, didn't include any bats or the wall) and emotional plea for Buck to ‘not leave him too’, they've been hanging out more.

Which will probably increase even more now after a not-so-pleasant breakup with his now ex-boyfriend.

“What was?” Eddie asks, the man’s presence alone bringing Buck comfort after a trying day.

”Tommy. He’s…not the person I thought he was. It was all a mask, Eds.”

”We all have masks.”

Buck looks at his best friend and thinks about that. Do they?

Maybe. He did with Tommy, that’s for sure. Now that he’s not behind rose-tinted lenses that come with a new relationship, he can see he tried too hard. He did things that he thought he was supposed to do so Tommy wouldn’t leave him on the curb again like pressing down his urge to bounce around even when his skin was crawling and urging him to move.

And, even then, his efforts weren't enough for the man.

But also-

“You never put a mask on around me.”

In hindsight, even with his recently ‘I'm fine’ mask, Eddie was off around him like it's difficult for him to put a mask on with Buck.

”Of course not. Why would I need to put on a mask around you?”

He can’t think of a reason. He loves everything about Eddie, so why would the man need a mask around him?

“So, how are you really feeling about this breakup?”

And, because he knows he doesn’t have to pretend with Eddie, he admits, “Relieved. Now that I think about it, I don't think I liked who I was with him, and he's not as great as I thought. He just hid the not-so-pleasant stuff well. And kinda mad, honestly. He suggested I get checked out for ADHD. Which is fair. But he didn't suggest it because it would be good for me. He suggested it because he wanted a calmer boyfriend. Someone who's not prone to jump around and go on endless tangents. He thought medication could help with that. Until then, I'm not really his type.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? He wanted you to do that and then he'd take you seriously? Was he leading you on?! He was, wasn’t he?”

Buck throws his hands in the air, as upset as Eddie is. “Who knows!?”

Eddie huffs. “I’m glad you dumped him then.”

“Well, it was a mutual dumping I think.”

“Still glad.”

Buck laughs. He can always trust Eddie to be in his corner no matter who's in the wrong.

“Do you think I should?” he asks his best friend after a moment.

“Should what?”

“Get checked for ADHD. Maybe get some medication for it if I do have it.”

“I think if your impulsiveness is because of ADHD, we’d appreciate fewer gray hairs if the medication helps,” Eddie says in jest. “But in all seriousness, Buck, at the end of the day, it's your body. I think, ADHD or not, you will always do what you think is right just like you do now. Just know that whether you go for it or not, we'll all love you.”

Buck doesn't have to see the sincerity in Eddie's eyes to know it's an honest statement because it's Eddie. His best friend is always honest with him.

But, for some reason, this time, the words make something in him glow.

Or has it always done that around Eddie?

Does he want to investigate those feelings anyway?

He doesn't know.

“I-I think I'll have to figure it out then. That and other things,” he admits.

“Yeah. You and me both.”

==============================================

Months later, they do figure a part of themselves out. A part of them that’s always been each other’s inside and outside of work. A part of them who’s deemed the other their’s. A part of them that’s always loved not needing to hide from the other.

And, when Buck finally kisses Eddie on a calm, breezy night, all he can think about is how that won't change no matter the change in their relationship.

After all, it’s Eddie.

Eddie has always seen him, including the parts that Buck didn’t see himself, and has loved him the whole time. So why hide now?

He'll be himself in all ways possible. He'll never hide behind a mask again.

He'll love Eddie with all he has.

And he's sure the results will be beautiful.

[mcondance]

no like y'all rlly don't understand. burr’s journey with hamilton is insane. from burr’s initial reluctance to even associate himself with hamilton.. to their "friendship" — which wasn't even a friendship at all, the two could barely stand each other. to burr's jealous introduction of him in "a winter's ball" after washington brushed him off to speak to hamilton.. "how does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore, go on and on, grow into more of a phenomenon, watch this obnoxious, arrogant, loudmouth bother be seated at the right hand of the father... but hamilton still wants to fight, not write". burr is clearly upset that washington chose this unpredictable brat over him. his confusion at hamilton's insistence to fight.. the double meaning of "not write / right". their relationship is a thinly veiled rivalry at best, and a long history of hatred at worst.

hatred on burr's side, at least. i don't think hamilton even knows the hate that he caused to fester in burr's heart, i think he sees it all as another game, another mountain to climb, another challenge to conquer. he sees it as fun; burr sees it as anything but. while hamilton sees them as friends, burr sees hamilton as the man who has everything he wants, but takes it for granted. burr hates hamilton from the beginning, though he tries to hide it.

it's there from the beginning, from his introduction of alexander. we as the viewer don't know their history, so we take it as a regular introduction, just the way it was written. but then the introduction changes; he's a bother, he's arrogant, he's a bastard, he's a whoreson. the introduction's tone becomes angrier, whether burr realizes it or not.

in scenes where burr and hamilton jest with each other, there's an obvious energy imbalance. like i said, hamilton sees burr as a friend, and burr sees alexander as anything but. perhaps the festering envy and hatred influences burr's interactions with hamilton, makes him see hamilton as a threat while hamilton sees him as a friend.

that's another problem, i think. i think burr knew hamilton didn't take him seriously. burr is fully aware that he is just another joke to alexander, that the best he can do for him is help him with the constitution. he knows hamilton does not see him as an equal. hamilton sees him as a scared man, a man who’s too weak to take what he wants.

and when hamilton votes for "thomas jefferson, his enemy, a man he's despised since the beginning" for those reasons, burr cannot handle it. how dare hamilton make him into a joke again? how dare hamilton think he knows him? how dare hamilton, of all people, tell him that he has no beliefs?

how dare hamilton belittle him once again.

everything that was building up throughout the play— remember, burr’s focus in “washington on your side” was standing up to hamilton’s mouth, because of his personal reasons, not like jefferson and adams — comes to a head. the festering hatred eats him up and leaves a shell of a man, or rather, he becomes hatred. burr becomes rage.

he is a man who’s watched someone he deems as irresponsible and unworthy take everything he feels he deserves from him. he is a man who’s tried to befriend and mentor this brat, only to become his lesser. he is a man who has finally snapped. when hamilton utters the words “jefferson has my vote,” burr is defeated. once again, hamilton has snatched something away from from him, for a reason hamilton believes is right, for a reason burr sees as hamilton taking him for a fool.

alexander does not take burr serious. burr is tired. he’s tired of being treating as lesser by a man he sees as lesser. he finally cracks.

[lightlycareless]

cause I don't wanna not put a sneak peek of an ask that I'm currently writing. excited to write more about nanami lol

Nanami would not take it well at first, for a variety of reasons.

First, it’s unexpected. At least for him it feels that way.

The two were close throughout your years in jujutsu high, but as all things happen, you began to date Naoya and well, he took much of your attention. Sure, you kept contact with him, he was still important for you, but it wasn’t the same anymore.

So, when rumors began to circulate that the two were to marry… he couldn’t believe it.

Here comes the second reason.

Naoya was very… different. To say the least. Like your complete opposite—and honestly? Everyone at one point thought it was a prank, probably something Satoru did to get a rise of whoever he could catch, as usual, and that it wouldn’t last long. Certainly not with someone as… your boyfriend.

Until your wedding invitation eventually arrives, and this not only cemented the fact that you were still together with Naoya, but that you wanted to take this relationship seriously.

The first thing he does is call you in hopes of getting verbal confirmation from you.

“Yes, I’m marrying Naoya.”  Is what you say, proudly—an excitement in your voice that doesn’t escape Nanami’s attention.

Something that was expected of any bride-to-be. And yet… it hurt him to hear that.

Is it because he thinks you’re making the wrong decision? Well, considering the rumors surrounding the Zen’in, definitely. He may not be well versed in the Jujutsu community, at least when it comes to clans and special techniques and whatnot…

But he’s seen enough to understand the Zen’in might not provide you with a life you deserve, and there’s only so much you (or Naoya) could do before their ways finally caught up to you.

Or worse: Naoya eventually succumbs to his environment, leading him to be the main perpetrator of your miseries, which Nanami has no doubt he already was considering his behavior at school.

However, it’s like none of these things mattered to you, and why would they? By now, after years of being together, you were completely and utterly enamored by him, as you went on and on about the wedding preparations, how excited you were to go on your honeymoon (which Naoya kept a secret from you) and how you’d like Kento to attend.

With your words, he only dives deeper into this… hazy feeling of surrealness, as if everything had been nothing but a jest, perhaps even made up from his own imagination, by some strange reason, perhaps to justify your absence.

But it wasn’t, and at the culmination of his displeasure, alongside what he considered your delusions towards Naoya, he blurts the most painful words Nanami has ever told you:

“Are you sure this is even the man you want to spend the rest of your life with?”

i always imagined nanami to be the kind of person to coldly tell you the truth, whether you like it or not. :) we shall see what happens next tho hahahah

[stellamancer]

niku just as you predicted i would want you to write an established relationship of infinite loop. maybe with an argument. and reader is the one at fault. and maybe has to make it up to gojo. maybe.

don't perceive me posting this like months after getting the ask.

but damn sel, you really chose violence with this prompt.

okay so it's honestly hard to imagine infinite loop couple getting into serious arguments, even pre-relationship. it's really a lot of bickering (mostly from reader), but gojo is just so laid back about things… like they've only really had two real and true arguments (read: things that actually bothered gojo). but they are still friends!! maybe I should write more fics where it's more obvious…

anyway, I had an idea for this but every way I tried to pitch it in my head just didn't work: it either didn't mesh with gojo or infinite loop reader or both to the point that I was frustrated with both of them and their whole dynamic. LMAO.

so I ended up looking at old fics to see if there was something I could work with there and like. infinite loop reader is… very independent? and there have been multiple times, both seriously and in jest where gojo has told them that they can rely on him. and it's not like they make the active decision to not rely on him, it's more that they just automatically default to their own tendency to be self reliant and think that they are totally fine and don't feel overwhelmed.

which is… probably mostly true.

anyway, I think that pre-relationship gojo realizes that there's a limit to how much reader is willing to depend on him as a friend (which is way too low in his opinion). that being said, once they start dating he thinks that reader will rely on him more, but that doesn't happen. it's not like an argument per se, but more like…

“you could stand to rely on me a little more, you know,” gojo says, mouth forming a wry smile.

it’s almost impossible to miss the bitter note in his tone, dissonant amongst the otherwise light hearted sound of his voice. it makes your chest ache in a way. you hadn't meant to hurt his feelings; asking for his help had genuinely slipped your mind. “i… I know.”

you mean to apologize, but somehow the words get stuck in your throat on the way out and instead all you offer gojo is a strangled silence.

he understands though, or at least you think he does, as he leans down and presses his forehead to yours. “don't forget next time, or else I’ll have to punish you.”

you gulp, suddenly nervous to have gojo’s face so close to yours, breath warm on your face. it sounds more like he’s trying to seduce you than threaten you, but given that it’s gojo, it’s practically the same thing. “o-okay.”

gojo hums, seemingly satisfied, but he doesn’t move. your heart rate starts to pick up speed as he lingers. is he going to kiss you? is he going to demand the apology you surely owe him as a kiss? that seems like something he’d do, but he pulls away and you finally exhale.

you hadn’t realized you were holding your breath.

gojo tilts his head and grins in amusement. “disappointed?”

“...no,” you answer, but it feels like a lie.

“uh-huh.”

i mean i suppose reader could have apologized then and there but I doubt that would satisfy you so… so, soon after this gojo goes on a weeklong mission in kobe, and while he's gone reader goes to kyoto to visit their father's grave for the anniversary of his death. it very briefly occurs to them to maybe mention that they’re in the area to gojo, but they ultimately decide not to because they think it'll distract him from his mission (technically true).

so they get to the grave, but when they do they find that someone else is there and to their dismay, it's their mother. i’ve never talked at length about infinite loop reader's backstory, but they do not have a good relationship with their mother (or their mother's side of the family at that). reader debates whether or not they just want to leave and come back later to avoid dealing with their mother, but before they can she notices them and comes over to them, all cheery and smiles.

reader is just like ‘well shit’ and lets their mother drag them over to the grave while she chatters about how happy she is to see reader and how glad she is that she ran into them and reader kind of tunes it out but then—

your mother glances past you, her gaze expectant before looking back at you in mild confusion. “where is the gojo boy? is he not with you?”

her question makes you nearly choke. why is she asking about him? then again it's not like your relationship is a secret and with how much of a blabbermouth gojo is you wouldn't be surprised if the whole country knew that you're dating, not just the upper echelons of jujutsu society. “he's on an assignment.”

she clicks her tongue in disappointment. “too bad. I was hoping to see him too…”

hilariously, while gojo’s blabbermouth is why their mom asked about him, it's not exactly for what they think, but that's another story for another time.

anyway, reader's mother rambles on and eventually reader is just like ‘why are you even here?’ and infinite loop mama tells them that she cared about infinite loop papa too and that she tries to visit every year but she's glad that she finally ran into reader and this whole time reader is kinda just seething but since they don't say anything infinite loop mama is none the wiser and is just like ‘shall we clean up your father's grave together?’

infinite loop reader just wants to tell her off but thinks that their father would be happy if reader and their mom got along so they're just like “okay fine” and they go off to rent a bucket from the temple near the gravesite to use to wash the grave while infinite loop mama starts taking care of the weeds around the grave.

as reader is filling the bucket with water they're thinking how much this fucking sucks because they don't want to spend the day with their mom, but they remind themselves that they're doing it for their dad because it would make him happy. once the bucket is full they start to head back to the grave and nearly run into someone and almost spill the contents of the bucket on them and as reader is about to apologize they realize that the person is none other than gojo. he makes some smartass joke but reader is just like ?????? because wasn't he supposed to be on a mission? why is he here? he’s super casual in his answers as he takes the bucket from reader and asks them to lead the way but reader doesn't move cuz they're all confused.

“why did you come?” you ask. your mother is one thing; they were married at one point, loved each other at one point, but gojo…. he only met your father once and you doubt he even remembers that.

“your old man was important to you, right?” he answers, tilting his head. “it'd be pretty rude of me to not introduce myself as your boyfriend.”

“since when have you ever cared about propriety?”

“why, i’ve—”

“don't even try to lie about it.”

gojo merely laughs. “okay, okay maybe you got me there…”

reader ends up showing gojo the way and when they get back to the grave infinite loop mama is there and she looks super happy to see gojo, happy he showed up after all. reader is surprised to see their mom actually made quick work of the weeds and starts lather up a towel to wash the grave but as soon as it's saturated with water gojo takes the towel from them and starts to wash the grave. reader protests but ofc he ignores them and so they reach for another towel and this time infinite loop mama takes it from them and says she'll do it.

from then on both gojo and infinite loop mama refuse to let reader help with anything and it's all very weird to them because it almost seems like gojo and infinite loop mama are competing to see who can do a better job of sprucing up the grave. so reader just stands there going ?????? while gojo and their mother scrub at the grave stone. the two of them might just take pot shots at one another because they are indeed trying to see who can curry more favor with infinite loop reader lmaoo.

when it's all nice and clean both gojo and infinite loop mama are puffing out their chests wanting praise and reader is just like ‘uhhhh great job.’ which prompts whining from both, wanting more specific praise and for reader to say who did better but reader tried to dodge and say they should light some incense and just as infinite loop mama is about to say something some little maid comes running up saying that it's time for infinite loop mama to come home and she's all huffy about it but tells gojo and reader that they should come visit some time before being ushered away.

reader is super relieved once she's gone and mentions that they didn't expect her to show up either. gojo wonders if maybe they both had the same idea or something (show that they are dependable figures in infinite loop reader’s life but gojo wouldn't tell them that). idk LMAO. but they light the incense and reader tells the grave that they're doing well and their dad doesn't need to worry and then gojo interjects saying it's because he's here for reader and then he actually says some heartfelt stuff about how he knows that reader is very independent and can take care of themselves but he still wants to do everything he can to support them so that he can be not only a good friend but a good boyfriend. reader is a little flabbergasted because it feels weird for gojo to be so straightforward with… anything. when he's done talking he gives reader a little wink, maybe asks if they've fallen in love again and they're just…. Idk a little embarrassed.

so after this gojo asks if reader is heading back to Tokyo right away but reader tells him they're staying overnight because they thought they were going to basically be tending to their dad’s grave all day and gojo asks where they're staying and reader is just like ‘oh I was just gonna stay in a capsule hotel' and gojo is like ‘lol no’ and drags them back to his hotel room even tho reader insists there's nothing wrong with a capsule hotel and gojo is just like ‘we can't share a bed at a capsule hotel!’

at the hotel reader and gojo end up having a little heart to heart when reader asks if he was serious about what he said and he's just like ‘ofc I was!!! why would you think I wasn't???’ and at that point reader apologizes and says that maybe they just weren't taking gojo and his feelings seriously and that even tho gojo said he wants to be a good bf they haven't been a good partner for him and they apologize again and gojo is pretty chill with it ig and is like ‘just do what you can, just meet me part way and i’ll fill the gap’

or something like that. I think I veered really far…….

but at any rate after that they make out. maybe they bang. I don't think I want them to fuck yet tho. LMAO.

[iwantescapism13]

Neuvillette had walked the halls and examined the place in its entirety. Palais Mermonia was quiet… save for his footsteps. The sound of his heeled boots echoed in the halls. He looked straight ahead, not even bothering to move his eyes around to search for any sort of presence. It was to be expected, he thought. After everything that had occurred, the human staff of Palais Mermonia must be creating a ruckus outside to celebrate their overcoming of the long-destined prophecy. The Melusines, on the other hand, must be out there helping any survivors. It was a massive victory for the people of Fontaine. But…

…that wasn’t until she had to take her life.

He found it as the most unjust punishment. Unfair. And certainly absurd. For the sins of Egeria, the successor had to be the one to make the ultimate sacrifice - to come up with a solution to protect her own people.

Was it just?

Neuvillette was not one whom anyone would call “fully attuned to one’s own emotions”, but he knew that he didn’t have to be to understand the unnamed sorrow that he felt once the Indemnitium-filled sword crashed down onto Foçalors. His hand reached for her, wanting to save her from a sentence he never agreed to and felt was unnecessary.

But it had to be done.

‘Did it?’ he questioned himself. ‘One sacrifice to save hundreds, thousands, millions. One sacrifice to deceive the Heavenly Principles. And Foçalors wasn’t even the one who committed the sin. Was it… worth it? And what about--’

His monologue was cut short by a sound of a thud - like someone had tripped and fell to the floor - and a voice cursing under their breath. It was then followed by a soft whimper. It seemed like whoever it was had hurt themselves on some type of wooden furniture. He only knew one such person that would react exactly that.

“Furina…?” he slowly made his presence known. His head went downwards as he saw the said girl kneeling down and massaging her knee.

“N-N-Neuvillette?!” Although in a little bit of discomfort from whatever injury she sustained, Furina stood up, dusted herself, and cleared her throat. “W-What are you still doing here? Shouldn’t you be rejoicing out there with the others now that the prophecy had come and gone?”

The mock trial that served to only get answers from her due to everyone’s desperation had definitely did a number on her. And yet, this child… this poor child… had not changed even a little. Her high-and-mighty posture and mannerism did not subside even after everything that she had gone through. He wondered whether he should be relieved.

“I could say the same thing to you.” he replied in respect to answering her questions.

“Well, I am… tired.” The tone at the beginning was not different from when she replied to him the first time. But the tone of the last word was something else. She looked downwards with a small smile on her face. “But I’m very glad to see that everyone in Fontaine is safe. Despite the prophecy being fulfilled, I mean. I guess… the trial that all of you had set up… was the very trial that I had been waiting for… all these years.”

He didn’t miss all of her words, even if the last sentence was muttered yet again. “‘Waiting for’?”

Furina smiled wistfully. Then proceeded to sigh heavily. “Forget it. It’s fine. Don’t mind me, I’m just exhausted.”

He had heard those words out of jest, out of childish whining, out of escaping certain duties. But not this time. He could feel the genuine exhaustion emanating from her sentence.

“Furina… you--”

“I’m sorry to cut this conversation short but I seriously couldn’t stress enough how tired I am right now. I’d like to rest, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. But before that, I’d like to ask you one thing…” He eyed the bunch of clothes that were scattered all around her bed, making a huge mess that he was sure would take about two Melusines to settle.

She seemed to understand the unworded question as she followed where his eyes were darting to. “Ah. It seems you’ve caught me. I’m… leaving Palais Mermonia.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Everyone’s perception of me has definitely changed. I do not wish to ruin it any further by continuing to pretend I’m special. I’m no one now. I don’t belong here.”

Neuvillette found it beyond absurd. “You belong here as much as every staff member, every Melusine; even as much as I, if not more. Nothing has truly changed. It is not necessary for you to vacate the premises just because you no longer bear the title of Archon.”

She laughed weakly. “You’re amusing, Monsieur Neuvillette. I’m very grateful for the offer to remain here but I can’t. I just… can’t.”

Emotions were not his strongest suit. He only knew how to present facts and evidence. And there was only one way he could try and explain.

“At the very least, allow me to tell you what had happened in the middle of the trial - before the All-Devouring Narwhal had appeared out of the Abyss.”

Furina’s facial expression slowly changed to that of interest. “More things happened before Mr. Tartaglia attacked the big whale thing?”

Neuvillette nodded once. “That is correct. I enlisted the help of Aether and Paimon to execute the gigantic beast.”

“Oh… I see.”

“But that is not what I want to tell you.”

“Well then, spit it out! You don’t need me to ask one by one--”

“It’s about Foçalors.”

Furina whipped her head around to look at him, her eyes went wide at the mention of the name. “W-What did you just say?!”

“I met her, Furina. Your divine self. After the sentencing was declared.”

“‘Mirror-me’...?” he heard her mutter under her breath.

“She had told me about your mission; that for 500 years, you must act like a god in order to fool the Heavenly Principles and save the people of Fontaine from the destined prophecy. And… for her to be able to sentence death upon herself.”

“W-What?! That… That can’t be! H-How could… how could mirror-me just…”

“I believe it was her entire plan all along. For you to keep up the act long enough to create a weapon to destroy the Hydro Throne… and… to bring back… what’s supposedly… rightfully mine.”

“‘Yours’? What are you talking about?”

“I am sure you are aware of my identity.”

Furina seemed to have caught on. “The Hydro Dragon Sovereign… of course…”

“But you are no longer bound by any duty. You are free now.”

“And the first thing I want to do is get out of here.”

“You still insist on leaving?”

“Neuvillette… I never really get to say this - and don’t you dare put this back to me in the future! - but I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done.”

Neuvillette was taken aback by her words.

“No. I…” He bowed in high respect, with his body bent 90-degrees. “I’m incredibly sorry… and… thank you very much.”

Furina was flustered and tried to pull him up. “S-Stop that! I… I don’t deserve to be praised for deceiving my people.”

Neuvillette didn’t budge, despite the desperate pulls from Furina to get him to stand up straight. “It was for the benefit of everyone. If no one is going to be grateful for your actions, then I will be on everyone’s behalf.”

“P-Please… stop that.” Slowly, Furina’s strength diminished. She held the side of her arm. “I… don’t want it.”

“Furina…?”

“In any case! I’ll be leaving Palais Mermonia and that’s that!” She turned to the pile of clothes on the floor and then to the bed, compiling a certain number on her arms and putting them in a luggage stowed at the side of the room. She zipped it shut. “I’m just gonna take these few clothes with me. As for the rest… you can give them away to whoever needs or wants them. If a Melusine can fit them, I don’t see why they shouldn’t flaunt it.”

“Furina--”

“Please don’t follow me. I… just want to be alone for now.”