#why do half of these people have two main tags

[404-mind-not-found]

Sketch for a drawing! The reason it's all coloured is because I plan to print this out and stick it on my door so I wanted to really get a feel for it first :D

[batsplat]

quick follow up to this bit

was also reminded of this valentino quote

He speaks about my shoulder like he was the best shoulder doctor in Melbourne Hospital.

what WERE they cooking

(I can't like. prove this because obviously we simply do not have solid 'evidence' for casey's thinking here either way, but given this is a speculative post about how I'd narrativise these rivalries.... do think the screenshot above is basically my theory for why casey had a thing about valentino's injuries. to such an extent that valentino picked up and commented on it! after laguna and throughout 2009, there were various waves of discourse about casey having been 'broken' by valentino - first due to casey's dip in form in 2008, then because he had to take some time off in 2009. the fact that it was an invisible illness that he himself could not explain in a sport that is all about the big, glaring obvious injuries - one that was treated as a sign of mental weakness, something he was ALWAYS susceptible to being accused of... very much the opposite of valentino's shoulder and leg in that sense, which was way easier to explain and was immediately taken seriously. my suspicion is that for casey, it was about not being extended the same grace as valentino was, being frustrated at how much leniency valentino was being granted when casey was always being harshly judged. of course, valentino (in classic demented rider fashion) was if anything downplaying the severity of the shoulder injury and only admitted after it was more or less healed that he'd been terrified by how long the recovery period had dragged on and had feared he would never be the same rider again. casey's lack of empathy on this count is completely justifiable and he does also obviously have a point, but it's still an interesting part of his character. it's what makes the rivalry with valentino so very interesting - there are lots and lots of ways in which valentino directly made casey's life miserable, but then there are other ways in which valentino's mere presence, his existence, someone whose treatment casey could compare his own to, that also contributed to casey's hatred towards him. firstly by getting more empathy than casey did and the general injustice in how the sport was 'always' on valentino's 'side' in a way it never was for casey, secondly by having this reputation of 'breaking' rivals that... well, y'know, valentino was presumably more than happy to be the beneficiary of the whole thing, but it's not like this was actually a line he spread himself, including with regards to casey. he didn't have to! it's kinda just... an awful coincidence that casey's 2009 absence was always going to be treated with suspicion and he HAPPENED to have a rival with valentino's very specific reputation?? the perfect storm! which gets you to this odd point where... if anything after that casey is the main instigator in terms of the sheer vitriol of the rivalry - but it's built on years of seething resentment that valentino at times almost seems taken aback by... and then reciprocates with interest because of course he does. because that's just how valentino ticks. fundamental lack of understanding for each other!! valentino kinda accidentally being casey's perfect foil!! casey having a million Legitimate Grievances against valentino but still somehow managing to project 85% of his other issues with the sport on valentino too!! they're soooooooooooooo. so!!)

if you were to direct a motogp movie (or make a one season of television) what season or rivalry would you make it about? and more interesting what artistic liberties would you take? it doesn’t have to be a straight up biopic bc imo those are often boring, instead it could be something like velvet goldmine (1998) aka fictional characters whose real life counterparts are pretty obvious, veering in like rpf territory. anyways👀

did you know. one time this guy put a curse on this other guy. and he never won a race again

anyway, look, I do feel like by this point that's the BORING answer from me, but obviously it's where my mind first went. I'm not sure I'd actually want it out there in film form because by now it's badly enough remembered that it's like, my cute little niche story, and I think there's something fun about the Wider World even within the motogp fandom not exactly getting how bonkers the whole thing was. (I know other humans have canonically watched motogp 2004 but I swear even journalists have forgotten some key key details and it's kinda annoying but also fun.) bold words from someone who's been blogging about it!! weird gatekeep-y instinct. but basically my job here is done as far as outreach is concerned - I wrote a very long post, now I get asks about it twice a week that allow me to think about it some more with the four other people who care, perfect balance. that rivalry doesn't need to go mainstream!! the whole point of it is that it's kinda cruel but narratively pleasing that it's gone under the radar, because it's another sign valentino won. but obviously, I cannot literally make a film about this, so the hypothetical repercussions I think maybe we can put aside for a moment here

okay I came back to this bit of the post after I increasingly got into of the spirit of coming up with dumb ideas, but it did make me flesh out what I'd even WANT from something like that. I'm with you anon, a lot of biopics are boring!! if you want to just know what happened, please just literally go and 'watch the races' and 'read books' like what are we actually getting here. you kinda want to give it a purpose for existing, right, a way of portraying real/mildly fictionalised events in a manner that is also taking some kind of stance on the material AND is doing stuff you can't do 'in real life'. thing is, look, you could make 2006 into a film, and I'm sure it'd be perfectly nice because it's fundamentally a solid underdog story (well, inherently winning a title with repsol honda is NOT being an underdog but you can write it that way), but also what are you doing beyond just telling people what happened? I feel like that generally about single seasons, they're not really doing anything for me. I was also turning around the biaggi/valentino rivalry in my head in part because that's the one valentino gave as his answer for 'rivalry he would turn into a film' (marc big wet eyes sitting right next to him), but like. a film about that rivalry from valentino's pov is fundamentally not something I'm interested in. you have all these isolated very memorable moments that make it work as a rivalry, like you can absolutely spin them into a dramatic yarn that goes through the genesis of their conflict to middle finger gate to punching gate to assen + donington + sachsenring + phillip island 2001 and it's basically *insert rousing music* successful coming of age. at most you can lean into the fact valentino became successful at being a dick. like idk it's fine but also what's the point? valentino is challenged in a sports context by biaggi, he's challenged because he realises his words have consequence and the press actually reports the words he says to journalists (the horror), but he is fundamentally not challenged on a personal level. that's the entire point, right? it's the ultimate comfort zone rivalry - biaggi is a dick who it is quite easy to hate and also reacts poorly to valentino's initial provocation. the animosity escalates and it is inherently fun to beat him. valentino is mean to him, but it's not like he even really crosses any lines to beat him. like you can make it into a film, and if you twisted the material a little bit you could make it satisfying, but I don't want to!

now the way the writing process of this post worked was that I was going to breeze through a bunch of non-sete/valentino rivalries and explain why I think some of them don't work for our purposes here, but then I ended up writing myself into changing my mind. so my take on the biaggi rivalry is that actually, you CAN make it work but it has to be from biaggi's perspective. basically, I think you've got to amadeus it (a web weave I have been thinking of making at some point btw). so,,, it's a meditation on talent and how unfair it all is, maybe minus the bit where salieri poisons amadeus (I know that doesn't happen in the film) or dresses up as amadeus' father to, y'know, make him write a requiem on his death bed. and it's not amadeus in that HERE, the clown prince gets a happy ending! but it's more like, in thematic terms, I think you have to zero in on this bit. biaggi didn't have parents who shoved him on a bike when he was three years old, he didn't have parents who were invested in his motorcycling career (or even necessarily particularly invested in him), he started the sport late and discovered that, yes, he did have a prodigious amount of skill in it - but one that he started honing far later than valentino did. he approached his career with a sort of grim resolve, surly and irascible and not interested in making friends with any of his competitors but very, very good. he goes away from the race track and dates all these models, he irritates fellow riders, he's not part of the gang and he's happy about it. he's very successful! four 250cc titles, wins his first ever race in 500cc at a time when doohan was very much winning everything. he's also just like,,,, an interesting and spiky enough character it's not hard to make him come alive

but then of course you have this gradual emergence of the amadeus character, the one who challenges his established position in the court of,, well... motorcycle racing, and also as the guy italians rooted for! and valentino's obviously, y'know, in so many ways the exact opposite from biaggi, and he's super young and cheerful and lively and is doing all his silly celebrations and is being a bit camp and goofy and treats motorcycle racing as a party (you really want to lean into the culture clash here, like in amadeus it's because you have stuffy austrian court vibes but here it's because everyone is having their bones broken every two minutes and just how... kinda grim a lot of motorcycle racing was). and he's also this innocent! yes, he insults biaggi, and yes, in retrospect we know valentino is kinda evil, but at the time he was a kid with a big mouth who was a little taken aback by how that biaggi feud sort of escalated beyond what he'd actually intended it to do! and biaggi just, hates him. and I think, sorry to the real man max biaggi here, but you've got to play with how once they're actually competing with each other, it's miserable how there's just this unbreachable gulf in talent. like, whatever biaggi does he cannot win! he isn't going to defeat valentino over the course of a full season! which is depressing and horrible and CRUEL, because there's this inevitability to the whole thing... and also! because valentino doesn't DESERVE it. and you don't have to go full salieri pleading with god to explain how god could give this CLOWN all this talent, but it's kinda the same vibe! how is it valentino, who is constantly just having a laff and canonically maybe wasn't the biggest gym-goer in the paddock and is just generally seen as, y'know, a bit of a dandy, this foppish clown who everyone loves and who doesn't have to work hard to be good - how is he the one who is winning so much!! it's miserable and unjust... and I think how you portray this is that you really emphasise the kinda, repetitive nature of the defeat. like, I think you probably want to make this into a non-linear narrative where all this biaggi backstory is communicated somehow but you don't just start it when he was born or whatever - you start it in 2001 when they're competing for a title and already hate each other. and then you heavy on the time loop vibes. the whole cinematic language and all that other shit should emphasise how all these weekends are structured in exactly the same way and if you're losing to this one guy, all these different weekends can start feeling the same. it bleeds into each other, it feels inescapable, you're trapped in this narrative you can't change... worst of all, you even return to the same places again and again - like play with that! biaggi keeps coming back to where they had the fist fight, to where valentino first insulted him all those years back. you play up the disorientation and the misery of it all, plus biaggi canonically gives us all this kinda messy freudian shit to play with like how he was dating 'valentina' and his relationship with her was falling apart because of how miserable valentino was making him. it's all there!!

ANYWAYS the way you conclude this story is!! welkom 2004!! so again we can artistic license this a little bit and, uh, ignore sete (though I do also think it's fun if you lean into biaggi being displaced as a rival and staring at them being friendly and happy with each other from the outside) - but the key bit is that valentino is finally making the big error. biaggi wasn't winning titles on a yamaha, since he left yamaha has gotten worse, now valentino is making this big mistake out of his own hubris. language of cinema that shit and make everything brighter and more hopeful.... the time loop is finally over, biaggi has escaped, this year will be different!!!! everyone in his circle agrees, valentino is fucked. step off the plane at welkom (pre season testing didn't happen in this universe) and it's literal dawn of a new day... staring out at the sun and finally, biaggi can move on, can live a new and different life. anyway. obviously we all know what's coming next - you have this big dramatic climactic race where biaggi throws himself at valentino again and again and again and he comes so close to winning it... but he doesn't. and you have valentino living his best life, being delighted, but the film is focusing on how like,,, we're bleaching the joy back out of biaggi's life, how actually he's returning to what he already knew. and it ends on the podium, with the camera focusing on biaggi on that fucking second step or zooming in or whatever (idk how cinema works) and it just finishes on this shot of biaggi dead-eyed in a bleak world, trapped again for eternity aka until the end of the 2005 season. done!! I'm not sure this is quite what valentino had in mind, but. well. that's how I'd do it

this is from the pushkin play from 1832 not the 1984 film but like. low key pushkin already kinda nailed the essence of sports rivalries in the 1830s and we just have to acknowledge that sometimes

right. so the casey rivalry is where I'm going to go completely off the wall. skip this bit to get to the slightly saner stuff. this is also one I fully admit to sometimes playing around with in my mind anyway, but. uh. I'm gonna be taking this one in just. well. places. I do have a vision here but I also don't quite know how to explain it in a way that doesn't make me sound like I've lost my mind, but well if you're still reading this then that's on you. so lemme get this out of the way: the classic sports biopic formula would work well with casey. if I had to point to a single rider I would sports biopic-ify, it's casey. so you have all this kinda,, obvious adversity that's easy to get across, and it's a narrative you can follow chronologically without too much trouble. you've got all the childhood stuff, the australian racing club not letting him join them, the move to britain, the rising through the ranks, it's also this very biopic-friendly 'nobody ever believed in him apart from like three people' stuff. and the premier class is also narratively satisfying, from the rocky rookie season to the kinda shock success to then all the lows of 2008 and 2009 and the physical ailments and the anxiety and then the switch to honda and the title and then him deciding to retire... that's all good stuff! you can absolutely biopic-ify it! gun to my head and sure, I can walk you through exactly what bits of his life I'd focus on and put in what order and so on, and I think ultimately you could make a very good sports biopic from that

[some mild gore to follow in this next section]

but also. thing is. that's fine. it's just not where I want to go here, because again I feel like at that point you can also pick up his autobiography and just read it - because what you're basically doing here is just filming that. and I get how this stuff works, you're bringing the story to a wider audience, you can show stuff in a different way in that medium etc etc, and that's all great but also I don't care about bringing stuff to a wider audience. I care about doing fun stuff in my brain. so what I'd actually do here is just, basically, go in the exact opposite direction and ditch all the realism. genuinely, ditch the live action stuff, we're going animated - what I'm interested in here is stuff where we need to be able to fully suspend our disbelief and lean into some surreal shit. I'm not going to bury the lede here: my idea is that you take that thing where casey said he hated how ducati was ruining the bike by letting valentino's yellow encroach on it and, basically,, just go all in on that bit. like come on, that is so singularly visually evocative, it truly captures a lot of what's going on thematically in that rivalry. (see also x and x for the most relevant casey posts.) casey sees valentino as the malevolent force, this infection! he associates him strongly with a specific colour, one that can be sickly or unnatural or just... evil. malignant, malicious, malevolent, all the m words. to casey, valentino is a personification of everything that is wrong with the sport. valentino is literally the walking manifestation for so many of his issues, from the dangerous riding to the lack of respect to the lying to the cult of personality to the obsession with image and the media to the backroom games to the politics to the injustice of how different riders are treated differently, like!! he's literally all of that! this is a topic for another post, but this plays out in a lot of kinda, weird and funky ways where it's a two way street and sometimes when casey talks about motogp you go 'actually I think that's just valentino?' (btw he also does this about 'europe' right I don't think those are europeans you hate casey that's literally just valentino) and sometimes when he talks about valentino it's kinda? this feels like it's about a little more than the bloke himself? and basically, right, I think you need to take this to its natural conclusion where casey used to admire him and look up to him and want to emulate him on track and then gets disillusioned when valentino's worshippers turn against casey and casey is the one to bring valentino down to earth and... listen, I think you need to play around with valentino being a literal god. and I think you need to have casey stab him to cover up the yellow on the ducati with blood

okay. look. the idea here, right, is that we're basically making the subtext text, and just digging into that process of 'bringing valentino back to earth', of taking on a god and having the audacity to succeed, and also treating valentino as this sort of. infection in his own mind. the bike is literally being infected!! casey may have left the ducati but he STILL has some fidelity and love for this project, those were his people he worked with, and now valentino is coming in and just twisting everything around himself!! but also I think how this functions is that, okay, so you have all this normal stuff that's the actual 'plot' in the 'real world', but the ISSUE with the real world is that there's a lot of stuff that just. isn't possible there. like the thing casey wants in that rivalry but is never going to have is... a captive audience. a big problem casey has in that rivalry is that he doesn't get the chance to actually say a lot of stuff to valentino. he starts using the media more and more and plays the game on valentino's level, but there's still this disconnect where mr straight talking is the valentino rival who valentino never really blanks or freezes out like... there's a disconnect! there's valentino the person, who casey never quite figures out how to just straight up hate, and then there's valentino the character, the racer, the rider, the god who casey DESPISES. but when they're doing small talk at pressers and podiums, casey doesn't get to talk to that version of valentino! he just talks to valentino the person, who obviously isn't literally a different person but is also not going to explain to casey where he's coming from, is he, and also isn't someone who casey can explain to where HE is coming from. and that gulf... it does bother casey. I don't think he can quite verbalise why either, but there's just... this creeping tension. I think it'd be easier for casey if valentino really were more of a caricature, just kinda a dick in all walks of life. and there's just these canonical hints of that... the way casey talks about how he's sure valentino as a guy is fine, but he never knew valentino like that, the whole 'I'd like to go with valentino for dinner to tell him where I was coming from in that rivalry' thing, like!! it's there

so basically EYE think what you should be doing is using the wonders of storytelling to actually. embrace that element. and just leave realism behind now and again. valentino is a god, he is literally worshipped, he's part of this pantheon that casey is trekking to reach. casey is brave enough to take him on in combat, he is the first one who is truly able to draw blood. he sees how valentino isn't just a god of joy or battles or speed or the SUN or any of that other stuff - he's a disease, an illness, a god who is also a false prophet... the worship never quite goes away, because who ever truly gets rid of their valentino rossi complex, but casey eventually is given the chance to face a chained valentino and kinda,,, ritualistically publicly humiliate him using the ducati as both this sick thing that has to be 'cured' and this symbol of valentino's failure. I'm sorry, visual language goes brr here, like chain him up, do weirdly eroticised torture idc!! (psst psst valentino's fucked up shoulder also extremely goes brr here, casey low key a teensy bit weird about valentino's injuries? his thing after the 2010 leg break where he goes 'why's everyone making such a big deal about this other people break their limbs too' and then after 2011 jerez immediately asking whether valentino's shoulder is okay in just a very obviously passive aggressive way. literally he opens with that, valentino isn't using it as an excuse or anything, for some reason it's already on casey's mind and I would politely contest it was out of genuine concern for valentino's wellbeing!! it's just kinda? I'm so compelled by it? I suppose it is kinda about how valentino's suffering gets taken more seriously than his own? how those absences are received differently by the motogp world? idk I find this fun because casey does know this is one thing valentino can't really be blamed for himself, so it just slips out a bit? but yeah, casey + valentino's injuries, nobody's talking about it but I sure will, let casey get weird and mean and a teensy bit sadistic about valentino's injuries in an artistic manner.) crucially I like animation as a medium here because I think it's easier to lean into surrealism when you don't have to hand hold the audience so much through the suspension of realism, also there's just some imagery you can do in cooler ways through animation where in live action it may just look. weird. (I think you can also do one of those things where you have a live action film with only those specific bits animated but also... why? it just feels like in live action you need more 'justifications' for things, like am I saying casey is having some weird hallucinations and is losing his mind? no I just want to have weird vision sequences ffs.) the colour stuff!! valentino/casey is big on the colour coding as a rivalry, to the extent casey is even, y'know, drawing attention to it in the literal text!! yellow and red are banger colours, valentino is big on imagery himself with all his sun + moon motifs, it's kind of all there to make the easy next step to kinda zany surreal imagery. ritualistic stabbing works better in animation, you can kinda get the blood to like. drip down and overwhelm the yellow illness that's slithered out across the bike

and. AND of course what this entire set up allows you to do is.... give them an opportunity to talk. they can't talk in real life! casey CAN'T give him his real thoughts on anything, and fundamentally valentino can't either. they're opponents. they're strangers who chat sometimes. it's not just that they aren't friends, it's that fundamentally they cannot be friends - because their ability to do their actual jobs depends on a certain level of professional distance. valentino of course does have a decent read on casey, and vice versa, because when you're figuring out how to defeat someone then (if you're valentino) you're looking to play the rider too. valentino's entire approach depends on focusing in on his rivals and attempting to throw them off, to make them unravel. he's watching casey closely!! the entire journey of casey's first three seasons in the premier class essentially becomes like, this god of their world focusing in on him. figuring him out. trying to gnaw away at him. obviously, animation also allows you to go big on the panopticon-y imagery which is kinda fundamental to their rivalry, because of their fundamentally oppositional stances to 'performing' for the ever present cameras where there IS a little bit of common ground in they have both struggled with it. but valentino isn't going to ever say that to casey! casey isn't going to open up to valentino! so if you give them,, you know, a different arena to express themselves, where casey actually has this external figure to talk to (as he's like, cutting him open I guess) whereas valentino actually is put in a position where he's allowed to respond, where he can taunt casey a little bit, where he can interrogate casey's approach and also the similarities between the two of them and how casey has been forced to become a little more like valentino to challenge him... because the thing is, right, valentino is so big on message discipline with his rivals and has completely stopped talking about that rivalry post mid 2013 that, first of all, you have this complete imbalance in who's been telling this story for the past decade, but second of all you kinda don't have a sense of what valentino would respond? idk!! I think this is mainly fun as a thought exercise for me specifically but also I do think it's kinda, digging into some of the bits that make this narratively work as a rivalry, how valentino in this rivalry is actually just kinda... removed. like he's not really emotional about it!! at most he's a bit bitchy, but even that just feels about The Game. it's the most extreme in this regard followed by jorge - but with valentino's other feuds you kinda... see a bit more an unguarded moment, see something a little more real there. the casey rivalry feels so uncomfortable precisely because valentino is a little... inhuman in this one. I mean, if you want to have valentino as some kind of cross between a deity and a monster in any of his feuds, this is the one. casey's just an obstacle to him. idk don't you think casey kinda wants to chain valentino down and stab him and make him see casey a little more... well, I think he should want it and I think it'd be fun to see and get them to talk to each other. ugh and also all the implications of making the faith vs non-believer elements more literal... casey the heretic!!!

there's some obvious stuff here you'd have to figure out, like 'how do you make this work as a narrative even to people who aren't familiar with casey stoner at all' and 'who the fuck do you think the target audience is here' and 'you do know this is not the kind of thing that would ever be made, right, go back to the casey stoner sports biopic like a sane person' but!! I do think it's material you can make work if you're just,,, efficient and smart in how you're actually telling the 'real life' version of the rivalry. also in my head this is. idk. an animated limited series not a film, which then brings in other stuff like 'episodic structure' because I'm fundamentally opposed to tv shows that think they're films. and look, I'm not going to write an entire film script treatment here, I just think a good writer can figure this stuff out. blood on the ducati is the framing device for everything else, simple. lots of animated floating eyes I reckon, first casey is watching valentino and then valentino is watching casey and the whole world is watching them... and it does bleed into real life just a little, where you're wondering whether casey is actually imagining/dreaming this stuff or valentino is or if they both know it somehow... you can get away with more ambiguity in animation. anyway, if you do want more thoughts on this one specifically for whatever reason, let me know because this one I do actually have more on

also laguna 2008 is a bit tortoise and the hare coded if you really think about it

[end of gore]

so. on to jorge. hm. the thing about jorge is that he was kinda writing a coming of age film in his own head, so like - yes, that's what you do go for? you can play it straight and follow how jorge has cast his rivals, or you can pin the whole narrative on the fact that jorge has cast them - the kinda artificiality of the narrative, the way jorge is this storyteller who isn't being recognised as much as he thinks he should be, isnt adequately appreciated. the way there's this three way discourse between what jorge thinks the story is and what the public thinks the story is and actual. you know. reality. I think this is a bit more light-hearted, like you know how the best stories about teenagers take their emotions seriously but also let them be kinda silly? because young people are silly! jorge was silly! he's got a lot of CHARM because he's so cocky and naive and full on and intense and awkward and kinda off-putting and tactless and a bit all over the place and so painfully, painfully young, like he's a good protagonist because that's a KID. but also, obviously there's also a lot of extremely not light-hearted bits of his story - everything about his father, his manager... idk this one's another one where, I don't just want to make it a generic sports biopic, and I'm trying to figure out the clear narrative arc here? I mean, you can point to the end of 2010 and really lean into him choosing victory on-track over popularity off it. the problem with 2010 is that it does not work as a dramatic season, yeah sure with the magic of biopics you can hack at it to shit but also. idk. what are we getting out of it. I think for narrative purposes you want to maybe narrow in, and end it at the end of 2008, with the switching of the numbers this kind of moment of emancipation? but also! this feels like we're straying a bit too far away from the fun sports elements and I don't want to REALLY suggest all the ways in which you could mine jorge's personal trauma in a jokey tumblr post, so I'm gonna move on from this one

the problem is 2015 just straight up doesn't work as a jorge-centric narrative, except in a very kinda comic way that leans into how absurd his role in that season was. 2012 as a season is a bit... y'know, it's fine. okay it's mostly terrible, but that's fine too. but it doesn't have a great narrative hook. which kinda leads you to the problem that I do think the valentino rivalry is more... juicy from jorge's pov, because for valentino, jorge is just kinda? an obstacle? idk he's more normal about it, it's just his job to destroy the guy, you know how it is. but also 2009 does work better narratively from valentino's pov, like it's the build up to catalunya specifically you can dramaticise... idk though, I do love catalunya but my heart isn't really in this exercise because I think valentino isn't really being... challenged here? it's a title fight where he's fundamentally using a set of tools he's already perfected, to beat a guy he doesn't really give a shit about. when the italian press is down on him pre catalunya, it doesn't spark any genuine self-doubt - it's just a handy source of extra motivation. there's no epic highs or lows that season, not real ones. and yes I know I was talking about making valentino who gets stabbed repeatedly to cover up an infection a moment ago, but that reflected real EMOTIONAL truths!! I'm committed to thematic fidelity more than I am to literal fidelity

genuinely I think the best way to tackle jorge is with the jorge/dani parallel journeys... what, film? tv show? maybe show actually - you don't have one coherent narrative Statement per se but you're constantly charting those journeys in reference to each other, really rooting it in their respective points of views, no neutral detached cinematic language like I want everything to be very much written to be from their eyes!! going from one to the other and back again. and you're charting these different journeys, right, and how they both captured different flavours of like... emotional successes and failures. I think it's actually about failure, yeah, about having to accept there's something you can't have and might never be able to get - whether that's universal love or a premier class title or whatever - but Actually, that might not be the end of the world. and during this process, they go from being enemies to tentative friends!! guys who realise they can maybe actually understand each other better than they thought!! this real moment of interpersonal connection. you have all these media narratives and the managers and so on and the fact they're competitors as these built in reasons why they've just been pitted against each other from the start... but y'know, again, it is also just a bit about maturing, about being able to set that aside, about making your peace with defeat and failure as an element of growing up. you can't win everything, maybe there's something you really really really want and you're just not going to get it, but at the end of the day it's kinda... yeah. self-acceptance. idk this is the nice one

so with marc you can go several different ways here I guess, and again he's also perfectly decent sports biopic material, probably second to casey in that category like yeah sure do the comeback story. but also, we do already have a very good self-produced documentary about what he thinks the narratives of his career are? idk this is also just a personal taste thing, I'll leave him to doing all the injury stuff himself, I don't have much to add there. we'll get to the obvious one in a second, but I was trying to figure out if there were other places I massively felt like you need the cinematic touch. and, again, the 2013 season is obviously very exciting!! but also, you have it covered in.,,,, multiple documentaries, I don't feel I have a take their either? his rivalries with dani and jorge aren't really substantive enough to sustain a bit of cinema. dovi... I mean, what are you saying there? what's the arc? I feel like if I tackled dovi, I'd go somewhere else and really go all in with the ducati stuff, and make it a bit more... you know, stark, stripped back, basically just the emotional component of how much he gave to that project and how he managed to beat away one rival after the next and how it all ended up falling apart in a kind of anti-climactic way? he's also good sports biopic material, but in a way I think the marc rivalry is the bit of his story I have the least to say on. so eg, 2017 is a dramatic season, but he's also kinda fine after it? he always knew it was a long shot, he tried his best and he got really close and then he lost. you can't amadeus it because dovi isn't (fictional) salieri. basically, I think what I'm saying here is that dovi is too well-adjusted to feature in this post. though I'd totally watch a film about his 250cc seasons, like it's a bit annoying because HE is the underdog who loses both title fights to jorge, but it'd still be kinda fun idk. I wouldn't really know what to do with the material but if someone made the film I'd absolutely watch it

right then. the thing about sepang 2015 is... yeah, sure, of course you can do it, it already exists as a narrative but... yeah, what are you adding!! idk I always think when you're adapting something, you kinda need to have a reason for it? I mean, what are you doing that's not already there in the footage? idk maybe this is just a sign of having been a fan of this sport for one too many years but to me the idea of sepang 2015 can get a bit boring (or maybe just repetitive) where I need a new TAKE on it to really get into the idea of fictionalising it. like where's the auteur's touch y'know, what can I still add to this!! but it also needs to WORK for someone who is new to the story, which kinda just makes you want to tell the story straight.... y'know the story is strong enough and COMPLICATED enough to stand on its own and it IS good but I don't really have anything interesting to say beyond 'yeah sure that'e be neat'. I can't tell you why, but I also don't think the casey approach quite works here? the idea of providing a framing device with which valentino and marc can actually talk to each other... eh. don't like that. hm. okay wait actually I just turned it around in my head for... a while and I think I've got an idea to make the worst motorcycle racing film of all time. so, my central stupid film-making gimmick here is just. centring the fact we're completely reliant on a few guys and what they're telling us in making up our minds, and our removal from that story and the imperfection of their perceptions and so on. so I think you kinda make a point of... not actually showing the motorcycle racing? like, you always show it by showing other people watching it, you're showing the tv screen rather than the actual racing. even in the cinematic medium, you're centring the theatrical aspects, where you drill it down to just a few characters. valentino. marc. uccio. marc's fuck ass manager. maybe a crew chief or two. keep it limited though, all the others are kept at a distance - you're constantly focusing in on the same few characters. and very early on you basically just like... get them to fourth wall break by telling you, the viewer, with their actual words how racing works for them, what meaning they take out of it - and again it's this remove because we're never allowed to actually feel the racing for ourselves (no helmet cams), and it sets up that as the tragedy unfolds, again and again we're just hearing from them what happened. it's all zoomed in on how claustrophobic the entire situation is, like doing the race direction room after the sepang 2015 is perfect for that kind of thing, and crucially they're only ever addressing the audience because they can't address each other. but fourth wall breaks also obviously draw attention to artificiality! I realise they are very much like, lame gimmick central, but also are these men not inherently about lame gimmicks... idk it's basically the same story but at least it feels like a kinda interesting way of telling it. kinda trite, but cinema allows you to get to the point and let valentino actually play with the camera... so literally take it into his own hands and lead it around and tell the story from his point of view. and you can play with how they do both change in what stories they think they're telling, how they're constantly revising their own stories, how their stories completely clash with each other... like. make them literal narrators. that's my pitch

so. one interesting pattern that has come up with my approaches to these rivalries is that with the exception maybe of the 2015 stuff, I feel like I'm more naturally inclined to treat valentino as a narrative device and centre his rivals. a big part of this is that valentino is a fantastic narrative device. he's kinda. this looming presence in every narrative in this sport where you can just sort of use him as a sort of way to poke away at all these other riders. the monster everyone loves who you are trapped with. BOO!! he's gonna eat you! which is fun! but ALSO, crucially, several of these rivalries aren't that emotionally challenging for him!! again, with casey right, he wants to beat him, but he's not having a crisis of faith over losing to casey. he thinks casey is annoying, he wants to beat him because he wants to win. valentino is casey's foil, but casey is not valentino's. valentino makes for an excellent personal antagonist to casey, but the reverse just isn't true. casey isn't forcing valentino to reexamine his approach except 'ramping up the levels of being a dick on-track' - like, yes, that's a serious competitive challenge, but also valentino is very comfortable in his own skin in that rivalry. sure, you could have valentino have some kind of massive revelation about the casey rivalry, but like. he doesn't in canon. he changes his behaviour towards casey in pretty predictable ways depending on what the relationship demands from his perspective at any given time. there's nothing more there

now, obviously you know where I'm going here. there IS a rivalry where you can make the argument he changes as a result of it, there IS a rivalry that tips him over the line and makes him to do stuff he hadn't done before that, there IS a rivalry that happens to coincide with a period of his competitive life that challenges him both personally and professionally. now, look, I have already talked about the sete rivalry. you know what I think about this rivalry - and if you don't, I really already have told the story here and here and here and here and also here. I think this works perfectly well as a narrative in its own right, and it's one you can tell from either perspective... but you kinda need both. I think again you probably naturally lean towards starting it from sete's perspective and that first proper meeting (I mean, idk if it is their first actual meeting, but it's the logical obvious place you start this story) with sete giving valentino advice during his first 500cc test and valentino just, y'know, ignoring him and being a cocky shit and then crashing. so you get to see sete being kinda exasperated by the whole thing. also, obviously ibiza is like, a key framing device here, like it's the most obvious in-your-face way of tracking their relationship with each other. I don't actually know how often they partied there together, but it must have been at least twice and if the commentators are to be believed it must have included 2003. artistic license and you can add one or two more times, but mainly you want to focus in on 2003 onwards right. so you've got this 2002 one where it's, y'know, high point of their friendship and in the name of narrative efficiency, you establish here that sete is looking to make the honda switch. the emphasis is on how valentino has been winning everything but on the flip side you're getting the first insight into his discontent. and there's a bit of a vibe of, what could you possibly have to complain about? like you are winning so much? so it's late one night where they've had this slightly unguarded alcohol-fuelled moment of genuine vulnerability but in the end it's actually characterised by how... unsubstantial the link between them is, because they wouldn't talk about this kind of thing with each other and they might both be similar in some ways but also don't gettttttt each other. it means you can return there as a location in 2003, where you've just had sachsenring and valentino's dramatic loss but they're still partying together and it's like. obviously In The Air that not everything is quite right... their relationship is already gradually altered and twisted because you're introducing this element of actual stakes and competition (obviously in 2004 they do NOT spend that time together, as far as we know anyway, and you can show them being very much not together at ibiza as a very obvious Oooh Things Will Fall Apart and maybe already haveeee)

and I do think basically I've already said what I think the themes here are,,,, several times by this point, so I'm not going to belabour the point. I think all of this fundamentally works as a narrative with like, minimal massaging and rearranging of the elements for dramatic effect. it's all there already, everything from sete's arc with the [insert non-tasteless way of covering a real life tragedy that fundamentally alters the course of sete's career] and how that leads to sete becoming the challenger and how he does want to win and his eventual downfall. with valentino, you have the element of liberation and self-discovery and... well, growing into your own but also kinda having the narrative drawing attention to how 'growing into your own' can involve becoming a fully realised character who is essentially quite cruel? you have this kind of... build up, right, towards this moment of revelation, where you lay bare who these two people actually ARE at sepang 2004, and then again at jerez 2005. valentino has gone his own way, he has freed himself from the chains of honda, he has embraced individualism and the chance to define himself and his own legacy and stand on his own two feet and not rely on the strongest bike or all this stuff within honda where they chose him as their flag bearer, for better or for worse... like he comes to his own here! he takes the step from 'great rider' to 'legend' because he gets to this dramatic moment of stepping into the unknown, he takes this massive risk that could have cost him so much, and it ends up elevating him. but it also puts him under duress, and in that moment he reveals himself - whatever sete did or did not do at qatar 2004, EVEN IF sete did all that shit, what you are left with is valentino vowing to ruin this man. valentino uses sete to make himself 'better', to fuel himself as a competitor. valentino turns sete into a tool in his own story. and again, thematically you've got all this stuff about how sete was managing the image of the rivalry and how valentino took advantage of that - how sete needed it to remain respectful and valentino was completely willing to abandon that. like, you have two protagonists who really are similar in quite a few ways, who think they have this shared understanding with each other, but when it comes down to it? they end up being super painfully different

now I can go on about this and how to play it straight, basically, you can just do that rivalry and I think it'd be cool and fun and very easy to arrange in a good narrative way. BUT I've kind of already. done that. like I don't want to suggest a film that is basically a nicer version of my tumblr posts. so I want to take this in a slightly different direction, and I think what we need to consider with this rivalry is this: what if you made the curse literal? basically, what's always kinda charmed me about this rivalry is that the curse should not work and all the misfortune that befalls sete after that is so comical that it's kinda... what do you do with that? and the answer is you just lean all the way in. my pitch is this: what if valentino sells his soul to the devil?

so, you know faust, right, and you know the bit at the start of goethe's faust where god and mephistopheles are basically making a wager over how corruptible this one human is. and faust is like... he's kinda disillusioned, he feels that everything he's dedicated his life to in academia is fundamentally hollow, gets very close to committing suicide. and faust has gone a bit new age-y, gotten into all this mystical shit and he's got this pentagram that ends up preventing mephistopheles from leaving his presence in their first meeting... and basically what the devil can give him is like, the chance to attain some true pleasure, and for that faust is willing to bet everything - so if faust can just have that, then maybe eternal damnation is worth it. and look, I'm not going to summarise the entire plot of faust here and it does go off the wall a bit with all the gretchen stuff, but the point is you have this version of the devil who is fundamentally a cynic and is attempting to win an argument with god by making this human succumb to his own nihilism. and what faust basically does is like, abandon his normal life where he's trying to live by normal virtues and goes off on this journey with the devil. and there's this little moment where mephistopheles,,, pretends to be faust and takes on the role of an academic adviser (you know how it is) and seduces this random student away from the word of god and sends him down a wretched path, which ends with this bit:

like, a big part of faust's tragedy is supposed to be about... well, hubris, of the relationship of god to man, of no longer being afraid of the devil... and obviously, this is all framed very much in terms of religion, but at the end of the day it's also about, you know, having purpose - faust is living a life that no longer has any meaning to him, all of his knowledge and studies now no longer fill the void inside himself. his nihilism opens the door for mephistopheles, and is what makes him willing to accept the devil's terms. now, and I am so very sorry to goethe here, I think we have some material we can use here to explore the valentino/sete rivalry. obviously, you can't do a one-to-one, you need to get rid of some of like, the depression and all that - there were times when valentino was feeling 'a bit low' in 2003, but not 'faust thinking everything he'd done in his entire life was pointless' low, yeah? also, unless you want to do a real long view here and even then it can't really be justified, there obviously isn't really a 'tragedy' here from valentino's perspective. like, he wins! this isn't valentino's tragedy, it's sete's! I was being a bit facetious when I said he was 'selling his soul to the devil', and you can kinda parse mephistopheles' motivations in different ways depending on what flavour and what interpretation of him you're dealing with here. you don't 'damn' valentino, you essentially just turn him into a tool of the devil!

so, this is how this works out in my head: the devil works more broadly as the manifestation of competitive impulses, the kind of 'how far would you go to win' question as a bloke who shows up and literally talks to the characters about it (magic of cinema). he's also engaging with valentino feeling like his victories no longer having meaning, with being disconnected from honda and from the entire culture there and just feeling like he's going through the motions. there's this element of like... opening the door to what is essentially a journey of self-actualisation, bringing him closer to being a 'god' but also allowing him to fully come into his own and become himself. to win on his own terms. I reckon ibiza is my preferred narrative device where the devil talks both to sete and valentino there (separately), first literally as a mysterious stranger and then... maybe not? he's talking to them at times of their lives when they're not at ibiza and it's not happening there in the physical world and they both end up kinda having to confront they're dealing with some potentially malevolent supernatural entity. but the important elements of the devil is that a) he's not going to do anything the humans don't actually ask for themselves, and b) everyone knows he's following his own agenda and you should be careful of the requests you make of him. so it's kinda like... essentially, the backdrop of this rivalry unfolding is they're constantly being challenged to decide what lines they're willing to cross. which culminates at qatar... and maybe you do have sete making like. a teensy mistake. a teensy error in judgement, one that is both real and deliberate but he could not have known would get that reaction and instantly regrets. and valentino, who is I think inherently sceptical of the devil coming to offer to help him and maybe does crank out the pentagrams (remember, the whole point of faust is that he was too arrogant to be scared of the devil, or one of the points anyway), in a moment of fury does decide - no, actually. I will take that step. I will curse sete. now the thing is, dramatically this is a teensy bit tricky because when you're talking about being damned by the devil, usually the consequences are a bit more severe than 'not winning a motorcycle race again' (yes, you can get into how sete did also seem genuinely cursed after that, cf his ambulance/bus crash situation, but again we are flirting with being in poor taste in this tumblr post). but the thing is, right, you have to lean into the silliness here! qatar 2004 is inherently silly, a CURSE is inherently silly, like real life is already silly here! you have to engage with the people where they are, and for these athletes all this shit is so heightened that the emotions are full on. like, valentino would've sold that guy to the devil! and to him not winning another race is basically the worst thing that can happen

so, obviously, you get to do the actual curse stuff. curses are inherently campy fun, the devil doing curses is campy fun, getting valentino rossi to crank out the pentagrams is inherently campy fun. you get to play around with this, right, like you know that bit in the brno 2005 race commentary where the commentators are talking about how valentino might as well have a little radio to talk into sete's helmet to remind him of how sete had fucked up at the sachsenring. OBVIOUSLY obviously obviously it is just so... idk scrunchy and fun to have this idea of valentino becoming a malevolent enough force to literally do that.... like damn the commentators did kinda eat with that?? ughhhhhh do you ever think about sete leading the qatar 2005 race for most of the way???? like that's SO fucked up because you literally have articles from about the race going 'hey maybe sete can break his curse' and then the commentators are talking about curses having one year expiration dates but obviously they!! do not!!!!! there's one race where sete goes off track and the commentators are talking about how valentino will surely have smiled into his helmet like that's so fucked!! it's so fucked!! but idk I think basically you have all this creeping curse-y stuff and devil stuff and then you get this twist and then it just becomes misery zone for sete until you sort of. compress the timeline and have him retire without getting into what happened at the end of 2006. and valentino just relishing in all his very worst emotions. and you've got sete who was the better man after jerez 2005, who took the high ground again and again and again and it did NOTHING for him.... and then he's cursed and his career is finished and the devil has had his fun getting mixed in with mid noughties motogp. and now obviously this is inherently kinda dumb and corny and silly but it's the devil!! mephistopheles to me is allowed to get up to dumb shit sometimes, let him have some fun!! idk I like curses being literal idc

I think the obvious critique here is 'this doesn't really feel like it gets the message of faust'. which, yes, is true - and obviously the way narratives are structured, a satisfying resolution isn't 'well selling your soul kinda slaps, actually'. and my statement to respond to this argument is as follows:

this is essentially canonically what happened. valentino DID do something kinda evil and it DID work out 100% for him and it DID kinda slap. at least when you add in the devil, you're making explicit the bit where it is a little bit bad. also, is sports not inherently about selling your soul for success... the story of valentino and sete is essentially about how we are twisted by competition, how pretending that we don't wish ill to our opponents is inherently dishonest. it is about lifting a facade for something that is already inherently there in the souls of men. this is obviously inherently a deeply cynical stance, but this is also a deeply cynical story beyond all the fun battles and camp dramatics. the devil is a cynic and he is basically the point of view character of goethe's faust - he's the one who is positioned closest to the audience. sports is all about living out some of humanity's worst instincts in a relatively low stakes setting, which means we get a free pass to have fun with a deeply cynical story that goes 'maybe selling your soul to the devil is fine, actually'

do I stand by this stance? not really, but the whole fun of storytelling is that sometimes you can just be kinda mean. I think goethe would get it... you can tell which character he enjoyed writing the most

the OTHER way you can do this is centre everything around qatar 2004 as like,,, the mystery box element...... okay look I have now made two posts that go WAY too deep on the 'what really happened' element but I do loveeeeee the whole thing like I would just make a film about that very end of the season and we show it from all these different angles as different characters narrate what happened... like fuck all the riders I want to hear from whichever mechanic used the scooter... the gresini mechanic who gave evidence to race direction.... various honda higher ups the crew chiefs like this is jb vs juan martinez it's war!!! obviously you still have the same emotional/thematic hooks as the general rivalry does but idk I would have a LOT of fun figuring out how to structure that, I loveeee mysteries... maybe I'd write it as a mockumentary yeah..... this one's just fun

anyway. a lot of stuff going on in this post, huh! you can probably tell I didn't edit this much. my classic tell when I edit my tumblr posts is I remember how 'paragraphs' work. unfortunately all I have energy for are like. a bunch of rants about things in my brain. I think when tumblr tells you that you've reached the maximum number of characters per paragraph and you need to figure out where to put a break, it's probably a bad thing? on the whole, my stance is I don't have anything AGAINST mildly fictionalised versions, but for me I'm always more of a.... well I want to take advantage of the full specificity of the events as they happened or just come up with a completely original story. kind of person. I know this ask probably wasn't looking for my 'what if you bled out valentino as he's strung up above a red motorcycle' vision but yeah. with a lot of biopics I'm always a bit 'well you could just read about this couldn't you' like I need stuff to take some kind of a stance on the material it's using... all my stuff takes a stance. that's all I've got. obviously all these stances mean that basically none of these things could ever be made. and I know what I said above but if they called me up to write the casey stoner biopic script treatment, I would also do that. if you've actually read to this point, give me a shout - you're a real one and I love you

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

can you do a Tom Blyth x reader fic wherein they're doing a wired autocomplete interview?

Answering the Web’s Most Searched Questions || Tom Blyth x Actress!Reader

A/n: this was so much fun to make! I apologies for this taking a bit to make hahahaha. Keep the Tom Blyth x reader requests coming 🙏

Warnings: nothing but reader n tom being such a wholesome couple

Wc:

Divider by @pommecita

“Hi I’m Tom Blyth!” You smile at the camera. “And I’m Y/n Y/l/n” Tom waves to the camera as you both hold in your laughter but fail miserably. “And this is the wired autocomplete interview,” Tom clicks his tongue pointing to the camera.

“Who should go first?” You look to Tom as you see a glint of mischief in his eyes, “let’s paper scissor rock it?” He asks as you turn your body slightly to him. The next sped up montage was of the two of you playing paper scissors rock and not surprise that you won earning a groan from Tom as you are passed your board.

“Okay first one, who is y/n y/l/n……. dating?” You read it as you and Tom chuckle. “Who are you dating, Y/n?” Tom jokes as he looks at you quizzically. “It’s actually a secret,” You shrug, “Do I know this person?” Tom continues, “Yes actually, you are very familiar with this person,”

“Hmm, interesting,” Your boyfriend pretended to think about it as you wink to the camera, discreetly pointing to Tom beside you. “Moving on, Does Y/n Y/l/n have…… a pet?” “Yes I do actually, his name is tchai and he’s a spoodle. I bring him to set all the time and he just comes along and chills with us.” You say as an instagram post of yours pops up on the screen.

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by tomblyth, hunterschaffer, rachelzegler, and 3,837,202 others

My boys 💗

tagged: @tomblyth

“Next one, can y/n y/l/n….. sing and act?” You laugh at this one as Tom does the same, leaning his head against yours. “Unfortunately I cannot sing and act. That’s not me in the tbosas film, that’s actually my stunt double that looks identical to me and it’s actually Tom that sings all of the songs” You give a thumbs up as Tom and the crew start laughing.

“Does y/n y/l/n have any tattoos? Yes! I actually have a matching tattoo with my boyfriend, it’s on my pinky and it’s half of a heart and he has the other half.” You put your hand up and point to it as Tom quickly puts his beside your pinky, his other half connecting with yours.

“Oh my god, Tom has the exact same one. What a coincidence!” You giggle, “Such a coincidence right?” He shakes his head. “What does….. y/n y/l/n look like? Well if you guys didn’t know, I look like this” You point to yourself as Tom places his palm under your chin with a grin.

“What was y/n y/l/n’s…… first acting role? My first acting role was in Billy the Kid that came out in 2022 and Tom here is actually plays the main character Billy.” You nudge his arm as he gives a thumbs up, “And I play Dulcinea which is Billy’s lover at one point.“ You answer before you start to peel off the last one.

“Does y/n y/l/n have… a child?!” Your jaw drops open as Tom laughs out loud. “Do I have a child? No! I’m still very young but I do plan on having children in the future. I do have a younger sister who is 4 so I think people mistake her for my daughter,” You let out a chuckle.

“Grace does very much look like you I do have to say,” Tom points out as you nod in agreement. “Yeah I have to agree with that aswell, probably why people think she is my daughter. Especially when Tom and I are taking care of her for a day, people always say what a lovely family we look,” You giggle.

~

“Finally my turn,” Tom says in excitement as he’s handed his board. “First one, How….. tall is Tom Blyth? That’s actually a good question uh-“ “For reference, I’m 5’3,” You say as Tom stands up pulling you with him. “There’s quite a height difference,” You laugh as you look up at him.

“I think I’d say around 6ft? Yeah, I’m pretty sure because Hunter is 5’10 and I’m abit taller than her. So yeah, 6ft.” “Next one, What is Tom Blyth’s…. Hidden talent?” Your eyes lock with Tom’s, “It’s not a hidden talent, but I am quite a good whistler.” “Yes! Tom is so good at it,” You nudge him, “Don’t make me do it,” He smiles, biting his lip as you give him a look.

“Do it!” “Okay, fine,” Tom then does the hunger games whistle, three fingers in the air as you watch in amazement. “I was really nervous then,” He chuckles as you laugh to yourself, agreeing.

“Does Tom Blyth…. Have a girlfriend? He says slyly as you look at the camera, “No. I do not have a girlfriend,” Hearing his words, you look at him and find him nodding his head as he says it which makes you smile at his silliness. “What a shame,” You pat his shoulder jokingly as he shakes his head, laughing.

“Lucky last, Is Tom Bltyh… a father? seriously, what is up with these questions?” He says in slight disbelief. “Are you?” You tease him, “Like Y/n, I get mistaken as her little sister’s father but no. I have no children,” “Your children would be so good looking,” You point out before you could really process it in your head.

Tom looks at you in surprise but laughs, “You think?” He maintains eye contact with you as you nod, almost in a trance as you stare into his piercing blue eyes that you could stare in all day. “Hmm, that’s good to know you think that, babe” His pet name for you slips out as your eyes slightly widen.

Tom quickly changes the topic when he realises. “Well that’s it from us today,” He says in a happy tone, “Thank you for watching this video!” “bye!” You both say in sync as you both throw the boards at the camera before it cuts off.

[mischievousmoony]

hi i saw your request were open, and i really love you’re work and i was wondering if you could do something with james where the reader talks very quickly and quietly and often is told that she needs to speak up. and james always knows what she says and its kinda just fluffy? no worries if you don’t want to write!! have an amazing night/day

- 🪷

is this my first emoji anon? 🤭 thank u love, i had a lot of fun with this request

𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚞𝚙

⟢ james potter x reader ⊹ 1.9k ⟢ warnings/tags: not bully per say but other students are rude, fluff

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Miss. Y/L/N, have you found a group to work with?" Professor McGonagall asks as students around you huddle in groups of four whilst you stand alone at your desk, packing your things.

You mumble a response as you stuff your books into your bag, attempting to flee the scene as fast as possible. It wasn't anything to do with Professor McGonagall, but rather the fact that you always felt a little scrutinized when talking to anyone in a position of authority.

McGonagall squints as she tries to decipher your words. She finds herself having to make a guess.

"If not, I am more than happy to assist in finding–"

"She's with us, Professor!" James jogs over, returning from enlisting members for your group. As you straighten out your leafs of parchment, James starts packing away your ink and quill for you.

"And 'us' entails?" Professor McGonagall questions.

With a casual flick of his thumb over his shoulder, James gestures to a pair of Ravenclaws standing by the door.

"Very well," McGonagall hums in approval before walking off to ensure any other stragglers have found a group before they depart.

James would prefer to have Sirius and Remus as the other half of your group, but McGonagall has permanently banned James and Sirius from working together ever since they turned a simple demonstration into their own personal stand up comedy gig, resulting in some arguably intentional mishaps in their spellwork.

You've just latched your bag closed when James takes it from you and slings it over his shoulder without giving it much thought. He’s always absentmindedly doing you little favors, like it's his second nature.

"So, Cody has nothing better to do on a Friday night, why am I not surprised?" James says teasingly. "He’s insisting we hit the library and get a head start on the project. You free right now?"

"I'm free," you confirm, looking over James' shoulder at your group mates.

You hate group projects for a multitude of reasons. At least with most Ravenclaws— especially the two you're partnered with, Cody and Isla— you don't have to worry about them not carrying their weight.

This makes your main concern having to work with people you don't know that well. All you did know about them is that they're the kind of Ravenclaws that other Ravenclaws say give them a bad rap. They have a raging superiority complex, and you’d be surprised that James is okay to work with them if you didn't know him. That boy thinks he can make a friend out of anyone, save for some rivals he has in Slytherin.

So, you’re mostly surprised that they want to work with the two of you, but that probably has something to do with James being at the top of the class. Otherwise, they wouldn't normally branch out to students outside of their house.

You suddenly feel uneasy, realizing that for this project, you’ll be the student that the others are weary of not pulling their weight. You feel your hands get clammy over the potential judgement running through Cody and Isla's heads as James leads you over to them.

"Are we going or what?" Cody asks rather unmannerly.

James opens the door for everyone, "Lead the way."

You filter out into the hallway. Soon, the four of you fall in step with each other as James throws an arm around your shoulders.

"How long are we planning to spend on this today?" Isla asks.

"Well, if we dedicate the afternoon to it, we could get all of the research out of the way in one go." Cody responds.

James meets your eye with a sideways glance, and an entire conversation is shared through a couple facial expressions.

His lips curl into a knowing half-smile, See? No plans.

Your eyes twitch with amusement before they shift toward the pair. A microscopic scrunch of your nose conveys, I don't want to spend the whole day with these people.

His face contorts, Me neither, and he shakes his head, we can't anyway.

Your head tilts curiously.

"We have plans later," James verbalizes.

"We do?"

“Sirius got his record player repaired.” James smirks, “And I may have some butterbeer and a certain record waiting for us back at my dorm.”

Your eyes widen with excitement, “James, you didn’t!”

“Oh, but I did.” James says proudly.

“Sorry,” Cody interrupts, “you can’t work on the project tonight because you have to go listen to music?” Cody asks, and the rhetoric nature and judgmental tone are lost on you.

You dive into an explanation on how it’s not just any music, but your favorite band’s brand album. And not just that, but the limited edition record complete with bonus tracks not available anywhere else.

The record was wildly out of your budget and although record stores far and wide all received copies, they didn’t receive very many. You had accepted that you would likely never get your hands on a copy, but you hadn’t accounted for James’ readiness to move mountains at your whim.

You excitedly speak about your favorite band and everything you know about the new record, and it’s like you can’t get the words out fast enough. James listens intently, grinning widely and nodding along with your every word, interjecting occasionally with commentary of his own. You're too busy raving to notice the shared look between Cody and Isla.

"Is this supposed to be a private conversation or are we expected to understand you?" Isla sneers as the four of you reach the library doors.

James' grin falters as watches your excitement fade. You mumble out an apology, which James found completely unnecessary.

His tone flattens out from amused to deadpanned as he addresses Cody's earlier question, both to alleviate some attention from you and to deliberately ignore Isla, "We'll stay for an hour, maybe two. But after that, yeah, we're going to go listen to music with our friends."

Ever the gentleman, even when annoyed, he holds the library's door open for everyone. He eyes the back of Isla's head with offense as she passes, but his eyes soften when you walk through next.

The four of you quickly find a table, as not many are occupied to begin with.

James musters up a semblance of professionalism as he forces himself to stop glaring at Isla as she and Cody begin to discuss a plan for the project. Cody takes it upon himself to divide up areas of research without consulting the rest of the table.

"Hold on," James' brows furrow at his audacity, "What if I don't want to be in charge of researching the wand mechanics? And Y/N has an exceptional understanding of magical theory, she should be in charge of the magical formulas."

Cody and Isla's eyes fall on you and this time you don't miss their criticism.

"You have an exceptional understanding of magical theory?" Isla's face contorts into that familiar sneer.

James doesn't try to hide the way he rolls his eyes. He nudges you, "What was it you were saying earlier? The idea you had for the project?"

You gulp before you dive into an explanation. It feels like Cody and Isla were burning holes through you with their stares, so you try to distract yourself by gazing down at your hands as you them wring together.

In the middle of your explanation—

"Couldn't you at least look up so that I might have a chance at reading your lips?" Cody grumbles.

If looks could kill, James Potter would be a wanted man.

"S- sorry," you practically squeak. You do look up, but the glare on Cody's face intimidates you into mumbling even more. Even the most skilled lip reader wouldn't have a clue as to what you are saying.

"Merlin, could you just speak up?" Cody snaps his fingers in your face and your words die in your throat.

James suddenly wishes he had a beater's bat handy.

"Oi! Get your hand outta her face!" He raises his voice to levels that would surely attract Madam Pince's shushing any minute.

Cody retracts his hand but stands by his actions, "We'll hardly get anything done today if she can't even speak clearly. How do you expect me to deal with this?"

"Alright then, new plan," James says through gritted teeth. He stands abruptly, and his chair scrapes loudly across the floor as it shoved back by his sudden ascent. "The two of us will research the wand mechanics and magical formulas on our own, you two can have the rest. I'll let you know where we'll go from there next class."

James' hand finds yours in a grip that is surprisingly gentle considering the way he is currently conducting himself. He tugs on your hand, prompting you to rise from your own seat.

"You're just going to leave?" Isla asks.

At the same time, Cody protests the plan, "There's no way that I'm accepting that."

"Well, Cody, if you wanted to be in charge, then I guess you shouldn't have been such a cun–"

"James!" This time you're loud enough to speak over James' biting words.

"See you in class" are James' parting words to the very stunned Cody as he pulls you away from the scene.

Once in the hall, James can't help himself from raging over Cody's behavior.

"What a slimy git! Who does he think he is?"

You squeeze the hand that James still has wrapped around yours as he tugs you through the halls.

"James," you call gently.

"Don't know why I said yes to working with them. They basically cornered me, I'll have you know! I should've ran the other way when I saw them–"

"James," you try again, more firmly.

"Maybe if we talk to Minnie on Monday we can get our group switched. You don't suppose we can work with Sirius and Remus considering these extenuating circumstances?"

You dig your feet into the floor, "James!" you call out one last time, finally earning his attention.

James spins to face you, his hold on your hand not letting up.

"Yeah?"

"Calm down, would you?" You're voice comes out tinged with laughter.

James' troubles melt away at the sound of your laughter. His eyes search your face for any sign that it's false.

"You're not upset?" he asks, knowing you've been sensitive in the past to people's commentary on the way you talk.

"No, the look on Cody's face when we stormed away was healing enough."

This earned a laugh from James, "It was pretty satisfying."

James gives your hand another tug so that you fall into step with each other again. He only drops his hold on you to sling his arm over your shoulders.

"Dunno why people become such dunces around you." A playful smirk dances on James' lips, "Distracted by that pretty face, maybe, whereas I know how to multitask."

You shake your head at his antics, but your lips can't be stopped from curling into a grin.

"I can't deny the fact that you're the only one who seems to always hear me."

In the past, you've considered the possibility that James can always tell what you're saying because you feel more comfortable around him than anyone else, prompting you to speak more clearly. In actuality, James doesn't even need your words to know what you're thinking. He's known you for a long time, and he's spent every minute of it learning everything there is to know about you. By now, he might know you better than he knows himself.

"I guess I just might be the luckiest guy around, then, that I don't have to miss a second of your charm."

You sigh at his teasing and knock your shoulder into his, completely missing the genuine adoration in his eyes as he studies the way you smile at his words.

He can't wait to see how your smile looks when you find out that record he got you is signed.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[benchspkmnirlhub]

A Guide to Pokemon IRL

Hello! Pokemon IRL has been getting more and more popular over the year and a half I've been in the community, and I'm seeing lots of people being confused by it.

So I'm making this guide, to hopefully help people understand it better, and perhaps join us in this wacky community.

Part 1: The Basics

Essentially, Pokemon IRL is a RP community centered on one single premise: Blogging as if you were in the Pokemon world. It's a hybrid of askblogs, RP blogs, and general tumblr blogs.

There's very few rules to it, other than just "don't be a jerk". There's all kinds of Pokemon IRL blogs, from regular OC trainers, to canon characters, to characters who are Pokemon themselves, to even Fallers from non-Pokemon media, and more!

The main thing is that 98% of Pokemon IRL operates on the multiverse. Blogs can have conflicting canons, since the multiverse exists, and the blogs can be from different universes. This also means that multiple people can RP the same character. I've lost count of the amount of Kieran and Silver blogs.

Why is Pokemon-world tumblr multiversal? Who knows! But that's the one generally accepted canon thing across almost all Pokemon IRL blogs.

Part 2: Glossary

I know glossaries are usually at the ends of books, but I figure it's important that I define some important terms before I get to the rest of this guide.

Rotomblr - The generally accepted name for Pokemon-world tumblr. I personally prefer to use the name Tacklr instead, but that's just my opinion.

Sapient Pokemon - Pokemon that are sapient. Typically refers to Pokemon that run blogs. Some blogs don't allow interactions with them. Some blogs love interacting with them, though, such as all my blogs!

Eebydeeby - A human that has been turned into a Pokemon. "Eeby" is short for it. "Sleeby" means "slow eeby", or a human that has been or is in the process of slowly turning into a Pokemon.

Hybrid - This has two meanings. The first is someone who's part human and part Pokemon. The second is a Pokemon that's part one species, part another species.

Pelipper Mail - This is a multiversal system of mail, powered via Pelipper! You can have Pelippers send items to other blogs with this. Can be enabled or disabled per blog. Same goes with the next five terms.

Pelipper Unmail - Instead of giving, this is taking. This steals something from another blog via Pelipper.

Pelipper Malice - Essentially, this is sending something to another blog that you know will hurt them.

Musharna Mail - It's like Pelipper Mail, but with dreams! This can be used to send dreams to other blogs.

Musharna Malice - Just like Musharna Mail, but it's nightmares instead of dreams.

Magic Anons - Essentially, this allows anons to do whatever they'd like to the characters on your blog. Use caution when enabling this, though, as it's suspected that some people fetish mine with these.

High Stakes - Basically, this refers to anything that can majorly injure many characters, or otherwise have lots of bad stuff happen. Many blogs don't like interacting with this stuff, so it's best to tag it.

Drama Stakes - Like High Stakes, but less. This is when stuff is happening that could lead to in-universe ruined relationships. Best to tag this too.

Ultra Stakes - Like High Stakes, but more. This is when things lead to potential death of many characters. Definitely best to tag this as well.

Chosen - Sometimes someone is a legendary's favorite special little person, and they get powers from it! That's essentially what a Chosen is.

Faller - Someone, usually from a non-Pokemon media, who falls into the Pokemon world. Essentialyl a way of writing a non-Pokemon character in Pokemon IRL.

Self-Insert Faller - An OOC blogrunner falls into the Pokemon world. Can get very meta.

Muse Mixup Madness - At the start of every month, there's an event where some blogs temporarily change their core concept for a day or a few. It's best to tag these, and to give warnings beforehand.

Part 3: Setting up your Blog

Setting up a Pokemon IRL blog is a lot like setting up a regular tumblr blog, just in-character.

The main thing you'll need is a pinned post explaining the premise of the blog. These are usually in-character, with an OOC section at the bottom.

It's best to warn for possible triggers that might pop up on the blog, as well as explaining your boundaries (i.e. if you don't want Pelipper Mail).

Feel free to theme your blog too, changing the header and icon, adjusting the theme colors, maybe even have a custom theme!

Once you have that all set, you're ready to interact!

Part 4: Interacting

I made a full guide on how to interact here, if you want to check it out!

The main thing is, don't be afraid to interact. Even with big blogs. Everyone's happy to receive interactions! Worst that can happen is that your interaction is ignored.

So don't be scared! Jump in, and start interacting!

Part 5: General Advice from my Friends

I asked around for any additional advice people wanted to add, and here's what some people had to say:

"uhhh ooc communication is super important, especially if youre trying to do a plot with someone or smth along those lines" - @espers-n-espurrs

"Uhhh "Do it scared" Like. If you're nervous about doing something but you wanna do it, do it even though you're scared!!!!! Also like. Have fun. People can tell when you're having fun. Be silly. Do what you want forever. Also that big blogs 9/10 don't mind interactions with smaller ones. I think I count as one and like. I am just as scared as interacting with new people as the smaller blogs who wanna interact with me" @chaos-cousins

"interact with people" - @justalileepguy

"The absolute worst thing that can happen if you send someone an ask is that they delete it. People like getting interaction, even if it's from a blog you don't follow. If you're having trouble interacting, find something your two characters have in common and point it out" - @fated-furret

Part 6: Miscellaneous Stuff

If there's anything I'm missing, feel free to let me know, or add it in a reblog! I've been in this community for a long time, but even I don't know absolutely everything.

If you've read this far, thank you! I hope this guide helps in some way. Reblogging it is appreciated, but not necessary.

And if you're thinking of joining the Pokemon IRL community, then I'm excited to help welcome you!

[ineffablefool]

For the record, from this moment forward, unless specifically stated otherwise in a given instance, my written Aziraphale makes his tea exactly the way you [whichever human is reading this] think is worst. Water vs tea order, milk vs tea, whatever. Water temperature. Ice. This extends to every fic I have previously written as well. He will always enjoy it differently than you.

I recommend blocking me here/on AO3 if this is going to be a problem. Saves you having to scroll past.

Girl (gn) help I’ve just reached peak british. I hit the back button on a perfectly well-crafted fic because aziraphale made his tea in a way that is abhorrent to me

[sundrop-writes]

if Mike fell asleep with you...

Word Count: 750

Horror Characters Masterlist

Warnings: this is mostly pure fluff - Mike and the reader are in an established relationship, the reader's gender is not described in any way (the main pronouns used are you/yours), Mike calls the reader angel, the reader takes on a caregiver role for Abby, mostly just short and fluffy. This is set before the main events of the movie, when Mike is working as a security guard at the mall.

A/N: So, I've seen so many people in the tags going 'just let him sleep!!! that man is so exhausted!!' and saying that he's too tired to fuck in the way that people are writing fanfics about him. And as much as I love super horny fics, I do thought this up, because I agree - the man should be allowed to sleep. This is largely inspired by that scene in Grey's Anatomy where Meredith walked in and Owen was asleep on Cristina's chest while she was reading a book (I think it was when she was reading through Mer's mom's diaries?) - anyway. I love that scene so much because it shows how easily he sleeps around her because he's so comfortable around her. And that's why it deeply inspired this. Let him sleep.

...

Mike was exhausted when he came in the door. 

He heaved out a sigh as he closed the door behind him, toeing off his shoes - pure, stiff tiredness radiating through his whole body in the worst way. 

You knew that sound anywhere. 

“Long day?” You inquired gently from your position on the couch, lightly craning your neck to look at him. 

He shuffled further into the house in an almost zombie-like fashion, only giving you a solitary grunt in response. 

You felt kind of bad that he had been stuck at work late when you had been lucky enough to have a morning shift and been treated to a relaxing evening with Abby. She was a relatively easy kid to take care of, and generally fun to be around. 

And after you had put her to bed, you laid out on the couch, relaxing and reading a novel that your friend had recommended. Generally, you were having a nice evening. And it seemed that Mike was not. 

As you kept an eye on Mike, you folded over the page of your book to mark it and put it on the coffee table for later. 

“Dinner’s on the counter.” You told him. “I made lasagna. I can heat it up for you if you want.” 

You hated that before he started dating you, all he knew was freezer burnt crap - but you were slowly showing him how to cook, and a world of vegetables that didn't come in a can. 

Mike took off his jacket and the heavy belt he had to wear for work (his large walkie talkie and his taser were in his locker at work, as mandated, but the thing was still damn uncomfortable) and he hung them both up. 

He didn’t respond to your queries about dinner as he walked around the couch. Instead of speaking, seeing you laying there so relaxed - the sight was all too inviting, and he eased himself to lay on top of you in a form of very natural intimacy before he grunted a few words into your neck. 

“Did Abby eat?” He asked softly as he laid on top of you. 

It was oddly comforting to have the bulk of his weight on top of you, especially as he melted against you, letting out a small moan as the tension melted out of his bones. He adjusted himself to get more comfortable and his face rested against the softness of your chest - you glanced down to see that his eyes were drifting closed. 

“She ate two platefuls, and had some peas.” You assured him. “Did her homework, had a bath, and she practiced her spelling words before she went to bed.” 

Mike grunted again - a more positive pitch to this one. He couldn't ask for anyone better than you. Sometimes he worried about her - all the time. But when Abby was with you, that worry lessened a lot. 

“You’re an angel.” He hummed against your chest. “I don’t-” He let out a gentle yawn. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.” 

“You look hot in a uniform and my job at the bookstore gets boring.” You replied, half-joking about the circumstances of how your relationship with Mike had formed. 

You reached out to him and began running your fingers through his hair, soothing him even further into the realm of sleep with the comforting touch. 

He let out another tired moan in reply - something that almost stretched into a rolling sound with the gentle pleasure of your hand in his hair. With the way his body was so slack against yours, his breathing even and quiet, you knew this was only leading one place. 

“You wanna go get ready for bed?” You asked gently. 

“In a minute.” He answered softly, barely parting his lips to get the words out. 

You glanced over to the table and reached out, picking your book back up as his breathing deepened and his body went even more slack. You were preparing to get comfortable for the next few hours. You weren’t all that tired yourself, and you still had a few chapters left to go. When you got to the next chapter, he began to snore lightly and you felt drool dripping down your neck - which didn’t bother you all that much. You found it cute, in fact. 

You were comforted by the fact that he relaxed enough around you to get such a good sleep. You knew that he needed it. 

...

A/N: also, this is my first time posting a fic completely from mobile by copy/pasting something from google docs on my phone. So hopefully the formatting isn't too messed up and hopefully this goes well! And I hope you guys enjoy this short fluffy fic 💖

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

For Better or For Worse

Tags : Dark content, Baby trapping, Fluff, Angst, Delving into Gojo's childhood, Yan!tendency, Gojo x Reader, Captivity, Lovesick Gojo

A/N : Couldn't hold back my laughter while writing this (P.S. it was the evil kind)

WC : 3k

____________________________________________________

Satoru is nothing like his father.

Why? Well to start it off with, Satoru's love story isn't quite as renowned as his parents love story. The head of the Gojo clan falling in love with a woman from it's smaller branch, a forbidden love story made possible. Sounds romantic, doesn't it? It's not. Behind the rose-tinted background and the dreamy sighs of onlookers, lies the dark obsession of it all.

Satoru knows that his mother was in love with someone else, Satoru knows that his father didn't care, didn't bother himself with the fact that she was already engaged to another man, already promised to the love of her life. What he did bother with was the dissolution of her engagement, forcing himself on her to bind her freedom, her branch and herself to him. No one cared, her family didn't to say the least, everyone was so delighted to have formed a bond with the main branch of the Gojo clan, to the head of the branch that all regards for her flew out the window.

With the birth of Gojo Satoru soon after, her fate was sealed. What marriage couldn't do, a child did. Her dreams of escaping all but gone, afterall no mother could ever leave her child in the very place that plagued her nightmares and selfishly run off. Besides, running off with Satoru would make her a target of all the 3 great clans- some only interested in snuffing out the heir and holder of the Gojo clan's innate technique whereas running off without him would eat her inside out.

Forget the fact that she was a mother and bearer of Gojo Satoru himself, her husband would've never let her run off. The ring on her finger was but a leash to tie her down and Satoru was but another means for it, lucky him. Lady luck only seemed to favor the most twisted of minds. It started out small, really. So small that it was barely noticeable and by the time anyone realized, it was already too late.

Forcefully cutting off all contacts with her family was as easy as snapping a branch in half, as easy as easy comes by. Then came the isolation, isolating her from the general public, isolating her from the people of the main house until she was fully restricted to the northernmost corner of the house with only two servants besides her, a mockery of the freedom she craved. She was offered everything, given everything she'd ever want but what use is it if it's not what she needs?

Her only connection to the outside world? A husband she loathed and her sweet, sweet son. Her little boy that looked nothing like his father- a small mercy in disguise. Her beautiful boy who she was banned from seeing if she misbehaved ever so slightly, her adorable baby boy being the only thing that kept her sanity in check, the only thing that stopped her from throwing a middle finger up to her husband's face and removing herself from the land of the living. Her baby boy whom she loves so much that she grits her teeth and steels her nerves to please her despised captor of a husband, to murmur sweet nothings in his ear and coddle him like he wants, in hopes for seeing her baby the next day and the next day she does, her beautiful son excitedly running towards her on the gravel path delighted her, made her day just by looking at him, bending to pick him up and press kisses all over his pale tiny face.

Satoru might've been young but he wasn't naive, far from it, he notices the way his mother holds him tighter in the presence of his father. He notices the way her lips form into a tight smile when his father presses a kiss on her cheeks before excusing himself, he notices the way she relaxes when his father is out of sight, pulling Satoru closer as she coos sweet words at him. Softly brushing his hair back and giggling at his words with a softness he can't quite put his finger on, he wishes he could play her laughter on repeat, Satoru's favorite past time might be walking hand-in-hand with his mother in the empty northern courtyard, talking about everything and anything that comes to his mind as she listens, she listens to him talk like the words pouring out of his mouth was the very secrets of the universe instead of his boring everyday life. Satoru likes it, he likes being listened to, he likes being normal, he likes being treated as a child and above all, he likes his mother for doing so.

The world may have shifted from Satoru's birth alone but for her, all Satoru ever was and ever will be was her child. Her baby boy, her little treasure and her reason to live.

One could only guess how devastated Satoru must've been when he finds out his mother collapsed during one of the so-called ban imposed on her because of her misbehavior or so the servants says with hushed voices. He glares at them disapprovingly, heads bowed down and lips pursed into a thin line, murmurs of apology pours out swiftly before they excuse themselves and exit just as quickly.

He clenches his tiny fists, silently praying to every God he knows as he makes his way quietly towards his mother's room. Taking in a deep breathe and walking in, only to see her sitting up on her futon with his father besides her, holding onto her hand as if for dear life as she looks out to the garden with furrowed brows- ignoring father, Satoru notes. Neither of them aware of his presence yet.

"Mam- Mother?" Her head snaps towards Satoru, face softening immediately as she holds her arms out before pausing, throwing a quick glance at the hand held by her husband. A sign to let go. He doesn't relent, squeezing it just a little tighter. She frowns again, rolling her eyes slightly. Placing her attention towards Satoru again, she holds her free arm out for him "Satoru, come here" her voice is sweet, soft, loving, weak. Satoru is already moving, already making his way to her arm and burying his face in the crook of her neck like he always does, breathing in her comforting scent- now mixed with the horrible scent of herbs, of sickness and of death, he scrunches his nose, pulling away to look up at his mother.

She's looking down at him, wrapping her yukata-draped arm around him with a small smile, pressing a light kiss on his forehead "My baby" she whispers, breathing in weakly. "Mama" he sniffles ever so softly, hands curling over her clothes as he buries his head against her chest. She chuckles lightly, weakly, the sound was so comforting. A complete juxtaposition to her condition.

"I need you to be strong, the strongest in fact. You can do that for me, can't you?" She whispers, pulling him closer to her. He nods. She smiles, patting his back. "Mama loves you, you know that right?" She hums softly, leaning her cheek ontop of his head. He nods again "I love you too, mama"

"I love you more, Satoru. So do me a favor, okay? You can do mama a favor right?"

Satoru tilts his head up, expecting to see a smile like always. He's disappointed, there's a serious look on her face. She always smiled at him, always as in ever since he could remember, saving the frowns and looks of distaste for his father- Satoru nods, looking at her just as seriously as she was. She bends down and presses a quick kiss on his forehead, a chill quickly running down his spine- instinctively knowing that this'll be the last time she'll kiss him. Dead or Alive.

"Never turn into a monster like your father."

Silence. Silence broken down by his father's voice, yelling for the servants to drag away Satoru. His mother yells too, Satoru's not quite sure what as the servants make quick work with him, hurriedly dragging him away from the them. Turning his head back to catch a quick glimpse of his mother's figure looming over his father's seated one. It's funny how mother only seemed be her strongest during her weakest state- she huffs angrily, turning her head away in anger before catching sight of Satoru, hurriedly flashing a sad smile that quickly vanishes as the door slams shut and he's forced to take a turn. Her room completely and utterly out of view, along with his mother.

Satoru sees her again the next week but in an entirely different setting than he hoped it to be. Quietly making his way up to his mother's pale, lifeless figure, he looks at his father besides her. All life in his sunken eyes seemingly gone as he mindlessly stares at her, "Mother would've loved to see him this way" he thinks apathetically to himself, kneeling down and brushing her hair back like she always did his as he presses a gentle kiss on her forehead, like she always did his.

"I promise"

He sees his father glance at him momentarily, Satoru steels himself, waiting for him to say something berating maybe then he could berate back, yell and scream back at him but his father says nothing. He doesn't care, more like he can't care to say anything. "Pathetic" Satoru sneers internally, standing up and walking out, his mother listened to him like the very secrets of the universe poured out of his mouth so he'll do the same, what goes around comes around. Right?

Gojo Satoru was only 5 and nothing like his father.

°

Then he met Suguru. Strong and relentless with sass and bangs so profound he couldn't help but let hi- You, you're perfect. Watching you sit besides the new first-years, everything else fades away the minute his eyes makes contact with yours. Your words, your soft gentle voice echoing in the room as you introduce yourself hits him like a sledgehammer, it hits him like a semi-truck crashing full speed into him. Satoru's sure he'd survive the crash but surviving you? He doubts there'd be anything left of him by the end of it all.

His knees goes weak as he watches you hold your hand out to him with a pretty little smile, throwing on his usual smirk, he grabs it and oh- your touch, it burns. Your fingertips brands itself against his palm so deliciously warm that he can't help but squeeze just a little bit tighter, trying to hold on to you for a little while longer before you're pulling it away with a grin and you're speaking but he hardly hears you, so distracted with the lack of warmth, the lack of your hands in his.

"What?" He croaks out, ignoring the side-eye he's receiving from Suguru and Shoko besides him at his unusual demeanor. "It's nice to meet you" you repeat simply, eyes closed as you chuckle softly and oh God, Satoru feels his heart thumping against his chest so wildly that all he can do is hope that you can't hear it, Suguru or Shoko least of all lest he wants to make it the running joke for his entire life. Satoru says something but he doesn't know what, his mind and his mouth two separate entities as he watches you laugh again, he wishes he could record it and play it over and over again. By the time he's aware of what's happening, it's already night and the water is burning his skin, hurriedly switching off the shower overhead he stumbles back, palms pressing against the cool tiled wall, his skin tingling with the heat. It's an uncomfortable heat, one that he doesn't like at all, he'd much prefer the burn of your skin against his, molded perfectly against his-

°

"You're staring again" Shoko drawls out amusedly, nudging Satoru in the ribs as the pair watches you converse with your blond classmate, Nanami, he notes. Your laughter fills the empty distance and before you know it, there's a familiar arm weighing down your shoulder "Hi Gojo" you say without missing a beat, not bothering to look up at the albino draping himself all over you as you drone on about your latest mission to an indifferent Nanami.

"Sorry 'bout him, girlie" Shoko interrupts, grabbing Satoru by the collar and prying him off of you, he let's go with a pathetic whine. You brush it off with a smile, it's okay and I don't mind falling out your lips but it falls on deaf ears as she starts dragging him away. "Give the poor girl some space, Gojo. It hasn't even been 2 months and you're already clinging into her" Shoko berates, shaking her head and praying for Suguru to come back quickly; she doubts she has much patience left for the pouting man-child she's dragging.

Gojo was nothing like his father, what he was was a clingy fool, an annoying one too.

°

"Oh my- what happened?" You rush towards Shoko, eyeing her two classmates sitting quietly in the infirmary. She shakes her head and you know better to ask so you settle down, observing the two, Satoru looks fine...well fine except for the eerie glow in his eyes while Suguru looked like the complete opposite, his eyes was dark and dank, similar to light slowly being sucked out into a blackhole. You can't help but feel a cold dread settling low in your stomach, wrong. Everything is gonna go wrong. And wrong it went, muffled sobs wrecks your body as you crumple to the floor, hands helplessy clutching onto Nanami's blazer as he silently holds onto you and buries your face in his chest. Forcing you to look away from the scene in front of you but you don't relent, turning your head back just a little .

Catching sight of Haibara's lifeless corpse. All cold, pale and unmoving. He's gone, gone and never coming back, just like Suguru because only weeks after, you get the news that he's defected. Defected and on the run, hunted down by the very people he once knew and loved. Gojo, how was Gojo taking the news? The thought brushes past your mind, fading away just as quick as you struggle to pry the umpteenth cigarette from Shoko's fingers, her smoking habit was becoming worse and you took it upon yourself to see that she doesn't kill herself at this rate. Busying yourself to make sure that you don't kill yourself with the lack of closure.

°

"Satoru, how are you holdin' up?" You call out softly as you enter his room, watching the usually bright eyes of his all bloodshot and red does nothing but heighten your worry as you watch him lying down in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Settling down at the edge of the bed, you quietly grab his cold hand, offering him what little comfort you can give. "They need me to kill him" Oh. You say nothing, there's nothing to say. No words of comfort would ever work, not anymore. Squeezing his cold hand just a bit tighter, the room becomes a little more darker with the sun setting behind the windows before he starts speaking again. He's speaking and you're listening, listening to him vent about things you never knew, listening to him ramble on and on about things that didn't matter to others but it did, it did matter to him so he talked about it and you listened, humming and nodding late into the night. Completely missing the fact that his hand never warmed up.

Satoru's talkative by nature, it's an undeniable fact but even he outdid himself when he wakes up with a jolt, looking at the harsh sunlight forcing its way through the windows. With a groan he moves to raise his arms over his head but pauses, blinking back his surprise when he catches sight of your head resting besides his hand, your hands grabbing onto his as if for dear life. Shifting his position he finally sees your legs awkwardly sprawled on the floor, realizing only then that he talked throughout the night only to conk out halfway through, realizing only then that you never let go of his hand, not even once.

Finally, he finally lets his infinity down. The warmth of your hand immediately enveloping his, the tiny squeeze you give while still asleep and the soft sounds of your breathing, oh it makes his heart thump just a little bit faster and stomach flutter just a little bit harder. Gently brushing your hair back, he freezes when your eyes flutters open "Gojo?" You yawn, pulling your hand to rub at your eyes but when you fail to feel both your hands on your face, you realize that he's holding on, squeezing just enough to not hurt but to feel.

"Satoru"

"What?" You look at him confusedly. "Call me Satoru" he grins the same old smile. The smile that reaches upto his eyes and crinkles the area around it...but this time it's softer, softer and warmer. You can't help but smile back at the expectant look in his eyes, the squeeze of his warm hand urging you on, warm. His hand was warm.

"Satoru"

°

Spoiling you rotten was now the only goal in Satoru's life; the extravagant gifts, the 'just because' flowers, the more than unnecessary other things that he does which only earns him a low whistle from Shoko and a polite thank you from your side. You rejected it at first, of course you did. Hell, you rejected it until you lost count but one thing about Satoru is the fact that he's stubborn, so stubborn in fact that the more you rejected the gifts, the more he gave. One gift became two, two became three and so on. Finally giving in when he presents you with the key to a house you said you liked while flipping through a brochure, you refuse it firmly though.

Finally giving in and accepting every other gifts except for that, he just shrugs and pockets the key "feel free and ask if you ever need it, it's yours from now anyways" being the only thing he says before going back to his usual routine.

Satoru was nothing like his father, he was just a lovesick fool, a rich one at that.

°

You liked Satoru, adored him even but not in that way. He was your senior, your partner in crime and your bestfriend if you were being generous with the titles, that's all there was to it. You don't like anyone that wa- Your heart lingers on a certain blond man from the past but he's gone, gone and living his life away from the sorcery world. It's better off this way, you think, brushing off the thought quickly as you file your paperwork in silence. But fate is a funny thing because after everything was said and done, it all starts over again.

Starting with the emergence of Sukuna's vessel and ending with his return, igniting the embers you so difficultly tried to put out. You openly gawk at him when you see him for the first time in a long time, heart fluttering at the smile tugging his lips and your name rolling off his tongue so naturally that it feels like he never left at all.

"Nanami, you're back afterall"

°

Satoru's not sure of his own feelings these days, unsure on if he likes seeing you getting along with Nanami or not. On one hand he's happy watching his only remaining juniors get along but on the other, he just can't get rid of that ugly, twisted feeling that stabs him everywhere when he watches Nanami touch you for a little too long or watch the way your eyes light up when you make the stoic man smile. It just makes him want to snap something...or someone whichever is more convenient.

So he goes to Shoko and on a drunken stupor spills everything out, stupidly crying his heavy heart as he nurses his glass of beer. "Just confess already" is all Shoko says but he perks up, acting like he just heard the answer to all the unanswered secrets in the universe.

"I love you, will you marry me?" Satoru blurts out as he watches you reach the tori gates of the school compound, on your way to your next mission. You look at him with shock, mouth forming a silent what? Too stunned to speak or make a sound. "We could date first if you want" He smiles at you, all bravado and confidence acting as if like he didn't just profess his feelings to you. "No" is all you manage out, missing the way his smile twitches at the word.

"No?"

"No, I'm sorry Sator- Gojo. I don't....I don't see you that way" you sputter out, hands flailing wildly in front of you. Soul-crushing is an understatement, heart-wrenching, bone-breaking...nothing can describe what he, what Gojo, feels at the moment, it's all too much. "It's because of Nanami, isn't it?"

You freeze, heat creeping up your face when he calls you out. You look down in embarrassment and hurriedly cup your cheeks to hide your flushed face, wrong move. Maybe if you kept your eyes on him you'd have seen the way his jaw ticked, maybe you'd have seen him curling his hand into a fist but you didn't do that so you don't see it. Instead you bow, muttering an apology and excuses of being late for your mission before running off, missing the abnormal silence and the eerie chill in the air despite the harsh summer sun shining right overhead.

°

Every single person was wary of Gojo, sorcerers and elders alike, because ever since the day you'd gone missing, his mood has been no better than thunderous. With the emergence of Sukuna's vessel, the curses that needed to be exorcised had increased in number and strength. With the staggering disadvantage of numbers, you had been assigned back-to-back missions and one fine day, had gone missing along with the Grade-2 curse you'd been sent to exorcise. The efforts to at least find your body was futile at best, nothing was left behind, not even a minisicule trace. Finally deeming you dead after a month of searching with no hope of finding your body ever again, it only adds to someone's despair all over again, he should've never come back afterall.

Gojo sighs, shutting the door behind him and silently making his way to the bedroom, he wasn't mad at the fact that you'd gone missing, not at all. On the contrary, he had you right where he wanted you to be. Chained up on his bed for him only. Then why was he mad? He was only mad because even after all this time of convincing and explaining, you still did not understand why he's doing all this. He loves you and he needs you by his side, what was so hard to understand? "I missed you too" Gojo hums to himself when he hears the muffled rattling of chains behind the door, realizing that you heard him come back.

You weren't weak by any means, not at all. You could snap normal chains like twigs if you wanted to but the cursed chain graciously attached to your feet by Gojo was resilient, all efforts left futile. It also burns, it burns like a red-hot spoke, branding you his if you ever so much as try to walk out the bedroom door. The chain magically extended itself to all corners of the bedroom and the bathroom but anywhere else and you're lying on the floor with tears in your eyes as you drag yourself back to bed because of the searing burn around your ankle.

°

You rub your eyes dazedly, where the hell were you? The comforter beneath you, the curtained drapes and even the smell was unfamiliar. Your last memory was being flung to the wall by the semi-special grade curse that you thought was a Grade-2 curse, a deadly mistake by the administration team. You needed to alert Ijichi for back up otherwise you're dead, a blur of white hair flashes past you. Gojo? Why was Gojo her- "Finally awake?" You blink, turning around to see Gojo leaning back on a chair besides the bed with a grin. "Gojo, where am I?" You tentatively ask, eyeing your bandaged arms.

"Our house. You said you liked it last time didn't you? " he answers simply, holding his arm out matter-of-factly. You narrow your eyes at the platinum band on his left ring finger, only realizing then that you had a similar one of your own in your hand. You move to get up but something cool tugs at you ankle, the sound of chain rattling only increasing your heart beat as you throw the blanket off of you. Cold sweat running through you at the thought of it "Gojo, what is this?"

"Oh don't mind it, it's just a precaution" he stands up, pushing the chair aside as he gently tugs at the chain with a satisfied look. "This isn't funny" you tug the chain loose from his finger, biting back the bile rising up your throat when he quietly grabs hold of your ankle. "It's not meant to be funny" he grins, pulling you towards him by your ankle."Why?" You breathe out every so softly, fear and betrayal etched on your face. Oh betrayal, sweet sweet betrayal, he really does love that look on your face.

Everything he says is a buzz, you can't hear him, you're panicking. Nanami, what about Nanami? Oh God, what's gonna happen to him without you there? "Oh don't look like that, I'm not gonna hurt you" he coos, cupping your cheeks, completely misunderstanding your panic. You grab hold of his cold hands, silent tears streaming down your face "Let me go, please Gojo. I swear I won't tell anyone, Please" you plead, lips quivering and shuddering as sobs wrecks your body. "I'm afraid I can't do that" he tuts with mock pity, one hand gently caressing your body as it slides down to your ankle.

"This chain..." he tugs it. Hard.

"Keeps you safe. Keeps you with me. KEEPS YOU MINE" Maybe if he didn't say all that with a smile on his face, you wouldn't have hated him as much as you did right now. But he did and the burning pit of hate burns in your heart, you should've never met him.

"Also call me Satoru, we're gonna be here for a very long time"

°

It all starts over again.

Satoru is nothing like his father.

Where his father's love story extended for so long, his was cut short. Cut short by fate and your death- or thats what people think at least. They don't know that you're well alive and breathing, chained to the bed by the supposedly pitiful star crossed lover of a man.

It's ironic really, when his mother was chained down to his father by just a ring on her finger, he had hated it but here he was, years later. Literally and figuratively chaining you down to him with a physical chain, maybe the reason why Lady Luck seemed to favor the most twisted of mind was because she had a twisted sense of humor too. It's the only explanation.

But what about his mother's words? He became the strongest, that's one wish fulfilled. Never turn into a monster like his father?.... That's two wishes fulfilled, For Better or For worse, he's gonna keep true to his promise till the end.

Satoru is nothing like his father, he was so much worse.

__________________________________________________

Writing block hit me hard. Currently working on pt.3 of Prod!Gojo Satoru again cuz I deleted it by mistake 🥲

Masterlist

[grimm-writings]

Hiiii, I would like some Dungeon Meshi headcanons please! Reader is the oldest human in the main group and they're really motherly towards them. Like they're always fretting over their well beings and acting like a doting parent. And if you want, could you also add that Chilchuck's kinda into that so he falls for them?

That's all thank you!

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader, platonic touden party & reader

…tags! fluff, some crack, headcanon format, mild manga spoilers, reader is referred to as ‘mom’ once

…wc! 847

…notes! the way i nearly screeched in delight when i got this ask. chilfuckers i’m one of you let me in. you used they/them for the reader so i’m gonna assume this is a maternal gn reader! i hope it is for your liking ty for being my first request 🥺

Having a more wise, of age individual in the party is always a plus when you need some advice.

And when most people in the party are absolute lunatics.

You have your hands full trying to stop Laios acting recklessly in action, or doting on Marcille when her emotions get the best of her.  Goodness, even Senshi has your hair going grey from how he gets sometimes!

Laios just sort of… lets your doting happen.

He can get slightly grumbly if you get too mad at him.  Still, it’s not the worst thing a parental figure could do.  Go easy on him!

Marcille takes psychic damage upon learning your age.  She’s staring at you, at the age in your face, and taking the years into account.

It’s simply not computing.  You… You should be, like, a pre-teen or something!  Human ageing baffles her once again.

Still… she is incredibly receptive to you doting on her.  She’s more of a carer on instinct but she finds herself falling into you whenever her spoons are low.

Senshi just sort of hits you with the “why tho” when you try fretting.  It’s actually slightly frustrating.  Still, you can recognise his wisdom and take a step back.  He can take care of himself… most of the time.

Izutsumi… oh the dear girl.

You must have recognised the signs immediately.  Her lack of table manners, her reclusive nature… she’s so young.

The girlcat was a bit prickly to any doting at first.  You would probably remind her a bit too much of Maizuru for her liking.

With time, perhaps sometime after he run-in with her succubus, Izutsumi would be a bit more welcoming of how you treat her.  It’s… It makes her feel nice, or whatever.

She accidentally calls you Mom once.  She was mortified as Marcille squeals in delight and Laios laughs to himself.  You couldn’t even ask if she thinks of you as a mother figure before she’s already stomping away to hide in a corner somewhere.

Then there’s Chilchuck.  Oh, what to say about him.

You probably thought he was a young human at first too.  He’s taller than other half-foots after all.  Still, as soon as you even try to act maternal around him, he yells at you and tells you he isn’t a kid.

Keep your distance for a bit, and he’ll warm up to you again.

Watching you do your thing with the other party members will have him commenting that he has no idea how you can just keep up with everyone like this, and he’s the one with three kids here.

You just smile gently and reply that it helps you keep stability knowing everyone in the party is doing alright.  At that, Chilchuck will give you a glance, and internalise your words.

Upon Izutsumi’s arrival into the party, Chilchuck’s perspective on you begins to alter slightly.

Initially, he respected you a fair bit.  You were more like the two older co-workers constantly giving each other looks at the younger ones’ antics.

But he sees you with this child he also has to admit he’s grown attached to.  You really were a natural maternal figure to Izutsumi.  He watches you tend to her sometimes, a smile slowly curling on his lips.

Then he catches himself, and his blood runs cold.

…Ohhh, shit. 

Chilchuck is level headed most of the time, but when he’s panicking he can’t keep his cool to save his life.

Around you, he becomes more… frantic, in a way.  Lecturing others to give you a break, even if he can just have a small talk with you.  If asked what’s up he’d raise his voice defensively and say it doesn’t matter.

One time, Izutsumi decided she can’t choose between her two favourite human heaters, and practically forced you and Chilchuck to sleep on either side of her.  Even with the girl slotted in between you two, Chilchuck was internally losing his mind at the closeness.

He even lets you dote on him a bit more again.  Not too much, though.  He’ll accept the occasional checking in and headpat but that’s it!

You can very easily pick up on his feelings for you.  It’s not hard to notice the shift in his attitude.

Well… It’s not like you can complain.  You may offer to help him out with his future shop once you’re out of here, giving him a slight wink.

Cherish how red his face gets.  He won’t let anyone else embarrass him so easily.  Maybe pinch his cheeks if you’re feeling brave, but he may swat you away depending on his mood.

At the end of the day, he’ll give you a small smile, and wonder aloud where the Hell all the party would be if it weren’t for you.

(Bonus!  I think Falin would also super appreciate your presence.  She’s the kind to simply take her own parents’ treatment of her and shrug it off in a ‘it is what it is’ sort of way.  Your doting attitude would leave her slightly discombobulated, but she’s very welcome to it.)

[fairlyang]

Like that ⚔️

w/c: 1.2K

pairing: bf!wadewilson x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. you miss him so bad, secretly masturbating, but he planned it, phone sex, dirty talk, voice kink, mutual masturbation, absolute freaks, knife play mention, blood mention, ghostface roleplay mention, freaky af

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

wade was fortunate enough to get a pretty girlfriend after vanessa rejected him. he moved on once he laid his eyes on you.

you two together were the horniest people alive right from the get-go and that never changed even a whole year after being together.

now you were alone for a whole week because he went on an x-men mission with colossus to another state and you were already craving his touch.

for the past half hour he had been rambling on about his day and how they nearly lost the mutant they were suppose to find when you had an amazing idea.

you held your phone to your left ear and started to gently squeeze your tits with your right hand as he kept talking. you just hummed, not really paying attention to what he’s saying but more to his annoyed tone.

he sounded good.

it was nearing close to his bedroom voice which was probably why it turned a gear in your mind to get horny. you moved your hand down your legs and started to rub your clit while attempting to let out normal responses so he didn’t suspect anything.

but wade being the fucking genius he was, had been doing it on purpose. hell he was so committed to hearing you attempt to pay attention that he was improv-ing. he had missed you just as much, if not more than you him, that he wanted to see how long it’d take until you broke before he did.

meanwhile he was already out of his suit and only in boxers in the motel they were staying at. he didn’t even have to convince colossus to get separate rooms, he knew him too well that he had to do it for his own mental wellbeing.

wade had been stroking himself through his boxers while talking, something he’s been use to doing a handful of times already without you knowing but he wanted to flip the script tonight and you fell for the bait.

“so then i told the tin can to go fucking screw himself sideways and upside down because i was doing all the work! who does he think i am, his wife?” he rambles on and that’s when you stopped your movements and he bit his lip to not laugh. 

you were silent for a few seconds because a part of you was listening and before he was saying how he was letting colossus do all the work, “wade what in the fuck are you on about?” you ask and he bursts out laughing. 

“listen cupcake, i wanted to do a little experiment… let’s just say i pavlov dogged you because i want you to be horny at the same time as me.” he explains and you gasp, “you sneaky fuck!” 

“you think i can’t hear how you’re practically out of breath? come on baby, you can’t hide shit from me.” he teases and you bite your lip. 

“now let’s get to it because as soon as we got to this rust bucket i got rock hard thinking of you.” he says, making you let out a small moan.

“aw you like that don’t you, sweet pea? love hearing how just thinking of you drives me fucking insane?” he murmurs and you just nod, circling your clit with two fingers. 

“you know i do baby- i love it so much.” you mutter and he grunts. 

he slips a hand into his boxers and takes his cock out, spits on it then starts to stroke himself just so you could hear it. “my fucking god i wish you had teleportation powers- fuck i’d kill anyone in my line of sight for you to be here.” he groans and stroked himself fast because he was too antsy. 

“wanna feel your hands on me, touching and groping me everywhere.” you whimper and close your eyes, imagining your fingers are his and not yours. 

going for more than a day without fucking was like not breathing, it was serious stuff. 

“fuck don’t say that you’re gonna make me miss those tits even more.” he complains and you could just picture the pout on his face. 

“need your mouth on them.” you say breathlessly and rub your clit faster, already feeling your arousal seep through your panties. 

“fuck baby-“ he moans and you could hear him working on his cock fast too so you copied his pace. 

“wanna sit on your lap while you do it so i can grind against you.” you murmur, your hips bucking up against nothing. 

“you’re actually going to kill me.” he murmurs and sinks into the pillow. 

“mm i’d already be nice and wet for you but you know i love some teasing..” you say earning yourself more grunts from him. 

“is that pretty pussy dripping for me already baby?” he asks and you hum. 

you quickly move your panties to the side and slide two fingers against your folds, “mhm.. you hear that? all ready for you baby.” 

he moans as soon as he hears the sounds of your sweet pussy talking to him, taunting him. “my fucking god i need you on my face.” he pants and increases his speed again. 

“you have no idea how much i wish i said no to this whole thing. need to take care of my girl daily and this job-“ he starts to complain but you interrupt, “you’ll make it up for me by fucking me all night long when you come home.” 

he moans and his eyes roll to the back of his head, “gonna fuck you so good we’re gonna have to get a new bed stand.”

you giggle and quickly slip your fingers in, immediately matching his pace because you needed to cum. “next one should be halloween themed.” 

“god i love when you talk dirty.” he mutters, making you whimper. 

“dirty fucking girl- what do you want chucky or myers? or maybe ghostface so we can have another excuse to roleplay.” he suggests and you quickly nod. 

“maybe we can use knives again…” you whisper, making him let out a loud moan. 

“maybe i’ll be the one in costume and hold a knife to your neck….” you purr and he feels his lower abdomen reacting. 

“fuck baby i’m close.” he mutters and you quickly pump your fingers harder. 

“you’d like that feeling of my knife pressed against you, wouldn’t you baby? just draw a little bit of blood, afterall your favorite color is red…” you murmur, making him absolutely lose it. 

“i would- fuck i’d fucking love it- fuck- god i need it so bad baby please-“ he pleased and it brought you closer to the edge. 

that feeling in your stomach that came too often, one that was usually caused by him. technically it still counts but you wished he was there. 

“we’re doing this as soon as you’re home- hell maybe i’m in the closet in that motel you’re in…” you say in a low voice, hoping to scare him for a second at least. 

as soon as those words came out of your mouth, he let out the hottest mixture of moans and grunts. his load spilled out even more than usual and some even landed on to his chest, hell almost reaching his mouth. 

your body quickly followed suit, the sounds coming out of him being enough for your entire body to shake as your orgasm hit you harder than it has by your own fingers. 

he quickly murmured sweet praises to you as you rode your high and you nearly let go of your phone. your body was shaking and you only wished he was there to hold you but hearing his voice was able to calm you down.

[notjustjavierpena]

Late Night Feelings

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Hey people, my first fic in a while. Hubby will be back soon but be patient.

Summary: Lucien enjoys phone sex with you… his ex who is in a relationship.

Pairing: Lucien Flores x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, verbal humiliation, infidelity 

Word count: 2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55842253

Late Night Feelings

It is like clockwork by now. Lucien has made a ritual out of it and set up a routine for himself. He waits with his phone lying next to him on the couch, a box of tissues nearby, and a beer bottle, half-drunk, on the coffee table in his living room. He is already hard and aching in his underwear from the anticipation and knowledge of what will come, already without his usual slacks on and with his shirt unbuttoned to expose his beating chest. 

You should have called him by now, so why haven’t you? He impatiently shifts a little on the spot. To distract himself, he takes another sip of his beer and drums his fingers on his thigh to not think about the iron grip you have around his balls. 

You have had him in the palm of your hand like this for almost two months now. You call once a week, every Wednesday after your boyfriend has gone to bed, and then you beg him to talk you through it and remind you of how he used to fuck you when you were together. The first time around, you had said that he was the only one who knew your pussy well enough to do it and his ego soared above the clouds. 

Lucien knows it is wrong but the forbidden nature of what you are doing makes him have the best jerk-off sessions of his life. He doesn’t care about your motives, can’t be bothered to even ask because it is none of his business and he gets to come. People suck and fuck, it is in their nature, so he has no intention of playing the detective.

He adjusts himself in his briefs as an excuse to touch himself, hissing bitterly as time goes by without you, and he cannot keep himself from palming his cock through the straining fabric. He lets his head fall backward on the back of the couch, a groan slipping past his lips as he starts touching himself on top of his underwear. Steadily, a patch of his precome forms on the front because you are dancing naked and sexy behind his lids in his mind. 

The phone ringing nearly has him coming from the surprise because he has worked himself to the edge without even holding his dick in his fist. He swears under his breath, removing his hand to frantically search for his phone on the sofa only to find that it has slipped into the space between the two cushions. 

He answers with annoyance, “Where the fuck have you been?”

“Got held up,” you don’t apologize. He notices your ragged breathing almost immediately, can almost feel it against his ear and through the receiver. You are panting a little, probably flustered, cute, and wet from having been denied him like he has been denied you.

“Started without me?” He asks with a shit-eating grin, clenched fist lying along his side despite wanting to finish the handjob he was imagining you giving him.

“Not exactly,” you say without elaborating and the water in your shower turns on in the background. It is different from your usual pattern. Usually, you use the toy that you keep in bathroom drawers next to your hairdryer. 

Lucien narrows his eyes in suspicion. When you refrain from answering a second too long, his eyes widen when he figures it out.

“You little whore,” he smiles into the phone after the initial shock settles. In his underwear, his cock moves involuntarily at the thought of how used and desperate your pussy must be now, “You’re freshly fucked, aren’t you?”

“Stop,” you whimper with shame at his crude words.

“So how was he? And why do you even need me?” He pushes your patience, gives in to temptation, and lifts his hips to shove his briefs down over his thighs. His cock springs free and stands in the air in its touch-starved state, the head reddened from having been edged once.

You are silent for a moment but then sigh in defeat, sounding annoyed but it can only be with yourself from the words that leave your mouth and stroke Lucien’s ego dangerously, “He was fine but he can’t make me come.”

“That’s what I thought,” he says triumphantly, squeezing around the base of his excited cock. He gets comfortable on the couch, scooting towards the edge a little, “So tell me what you need, baby. Are you getting out the toy?”

“No, I need to clean up,” you tell him. He groans when he realizes you are probably naked on the other end of the line, most likely dripping with your boyfriend’s come - you always liked getting creampied when you were with him - and feeling horny out of your mind because your boyfriend has left you unsatisfied. He’d never do you dirty like that; clit throbbing with the need to get its sweet release, blood rushing through your lower body until it aches and has you squeezing your thighs together. 

“Tell me what you’re doing,” he orders to find out exactly how far you are in your session, not wanting to start without you in case he comes too soon. He hears you stand in the tub to detach the shower head from the wall. 

“Using the shower head,” you say simply and he spots a bead of precome running down the side of his dick, “It’s quick and easy.”

“So you have that in common,” he smiles at the scoff you let out, hearing the sound of water hitting the bottom of the tub while you move to lie down on your back. He dares a few strokes to his cock, his heartbeat all over his body, “You make it so difficult to wait. Need to hear you.”

“Gimme a moment,” you reply and there’s more shuffling, “There’s actually a lot at risk taking my phone with me in he— mhm…”

Lucien nearly loses his mind at your soft moan. He squeezes his cock again, wanting to tell it to calm down like he would a happy and excited dog. He breathes your name slowly. 

“Talk me through it,” he demands as he touches himself carefully, “Fuck, I’m so hard.”

“I’ve turned on— oh god, the jet stream,” you sigh in satisfaction, giggling a little like all his snark is forgiven now that pleasure starts flowing through you, “It’s so good, I wish you could feel it.”

Lucien swears under his breath, moving his hand languidly up and down his cock until his pelvis starts moving involuntarily. How he misses being inside of you, feeling you giggle like that when he gets you in the mood. He had never imagined that it would be hearing you use the shower head to come that would make him all nostalgic. 

“You are so fucking adorable when you get your clit played with,” he muses with a slightly breathless voice. 

“And I still smile when I come,” you say and he tenses up when the image flashes in his head. It doesn’t help when you moan a little louder, “It’s really intense.”

“How the hell are you doing that?” He groans. He strokes a little faster, trying not to get lost in the relief that it brings to finally get himself off in case he doesn’t concentrate properly.

“It’s just moving the stream up and down on my clit,” you explain, breathing heavily into the receiver, “The water feels warm and— oh, Luce.”

“And?” He almost gasps for breath by now, heart slamming against his ribs. 

“And then I just hold it steady when I’m just about to—“ you are interrupted by a sudden loud moan and he knows that you have moved the stream to your center, letting the water pound down on your clit until you cannot help lifting your hips towards more. 

He cannot help himself; his imagination goes wild. It wasn’t supposed to happen so quickly and he almost wants to mourn that it’s almost over. He speaks filth as his cock throbs from teetering on the edge together with you.

“Is the orgasm I’m giving you gonna make that little pussy cry?” He asks with a mocking tone, a moan slipping from his lips as pleasure starts to build at the bottom of his spine. He can see your pussy in his head, spasming with each excited jump of your clit, “You gonna spill his come all over the bathtub?”

“I’m giving me this orgasm,” you correct him during your climbing cries, panting into the phone and he starts going faster on his dick to meet you there. Fuck, he loves coming alongside you. 

“Bullshit. Say I’m the best you’ve ever had,” he barks out and follows it up with a desperate swear, reaching up to focus on the head so he doesn’t have to move his hand a lot. He closes his eyes and he can see you, brows furrowed and eyes rolling back as if you are possessed by pleasure. 

“You’re the best I’ve ever had,” you don’t even hesitate to respond. He can hear that you have started to hold your breath, gasping for air every few seconds, and he knows you’ll come even if you didn’t announce it like you always do for him.

“I’m gonna—“ you gasp again and he knows you’re concentrating on getting there. Another gasp and he knows you are quivering, “Gonna come. Fuck, Luce, I’m gonna come. Gonnacomegonnacomegonnacome, I— ah!”

He remembers what your face is like when you peak - that dirty little smile that turns into furrowed brows - and the image of the last time he had you on your back with him pops into his head. He can’t contain himself anymore, hearing you sob through the water cascading down on your swollen clit, knowing your thighs are tense, and your cunt is pushing out the last evidence of another - more unworthy - man. His balls draw up, his dick throbs and then he grunts a fuuuck as come shoots from the tip of his dick. He strokes himself through it, timing it with each spurt of white from his cock until he has milked himself dry and he grows so sensitive that he has to stop.

“All I have to do is ask you, isn’t it? Then you’d leave him,” he taunts you as you both come down from your orgasm, breathing softly against each other’s ears through the receiver. You usually hold a hand over your mound as you relish in aftershocks, sometimes daring to touch your overstimulated clit to see if it’s all over. 

“Luce,” you drag out his name with a breathy moan and he knows you are doing exactly what he imagined. There’s a hint of annoyance in your tone because how dare he remind you of such a true fact? 

“What?” He challenges, pulling a few tissues out of the box on his coffee table. He has the phone neatly tucked between his shoulder and head as he wipes himself down and tries not to hiss at the sensitivity, “Don’t deny it.”

“Fuck you,” you say bitterly, “I’m hanging up the phone now.”

“You want it so badly,” he continues to taunt. He throws the crumpled tissues onto the coffee table (he’ll clean it up later), “Why don’t you break up with your little boyfriend and then come over so I can get you fucking pregnant?”

“Lucien,” you say his name sharply, “Stop it. I can’t do that.”

“I would stop if that’s what you really want,” he replies, amused. He loves shocking you. 

You fume quietly on the other end, “I’ll call you next week.”

He doesn’t manage to answer with some other bratty remark as the line disconnects. However, he isn’t worried because he knows you will… and he knows he is right.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[steddieas-shegoes]

can't catch me

for @corrodedcoffinfest warm up round prompt 'on the run'

rated t | 666 words 😈 | cw: language | tags: grown adults being ridiculous and getting into situations, that's it that's all any of these will be

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Being late was allowed.

Being so late the venue considered canceling the show altogether was not.

"I don't fucking understand," Eddie was pacing the floor of the back office of the hotel, ignoring the screams coming from the lobby. "Security was supposed to be posted the entire time we were here."

"They were! We had someone at the back exit, someone at the emergency exit, and someone at the main entrance. But one of the guests was apparently a fan and spread the word and things got out of hand quickly," the hotel manager stated as calmly as possible.

"And now we're stuck here."

"We're doing our best to work with the local authorities to clear the lobby so you can make a safe exit."

"And how are we supposed to explain this to the arena?" Jeff asked when Eddie sat down on the floor in the corner of the room, head sinking into his hands. "This is our first show of the tour. Our manager is gonna lose his shit."

"Your manager has been contacted and made aware of the situation."

"And how did he take it?" Gareth asked, smirking at the thought of Steve losing his shit on this hotel manager.

"He threatened to get me fired."

"Sounds like him," Jeff said before joining Eddie on the floor.

They were a lot alike when it was crisis time and right now was just about the worst crisis that could happen.

"We could just run for it?" Frankie suggested.

"We aren't even making it out of this room, man," Gareth sighed, falling into the desk chair next to him. "We're stuck."

"There is no fucking way I'm missing our first headlining show." Eddie stood up and looked at them. "You're gonna pull the fire alarm and we're gonna run to the bus."

The hotel manager held her hands up, silently begging them to stop. But Eddie had already riled them up, already made the plan, set it in motion.

"Sir, I cannot allow-"

"You can allow it, actually. You allowed security to fail so now we're gonna do what we can to not let our actual fans down," Jeff argued.

He walked over to the lever on the wall and tugged it down.

The alarm rang out immediately, and the lights in the corner of the ceilings flashed.

"Run!" He yelled to the guys, who were quick to pull open the door and rush out to the lobby.

It was still chaos, but now there was confusion as well. It looked like everyone was struggling to figure out if they needed to run out of the building because of a fire or risk it to catch a glimpse of the band.

They didn't stay to pay much attention.

Eddie and Frankie were already nearly to the front door, and Jeff and Gareth had managed to slip down the hall to the back exit. They'd meet at the bus and be on their way, only an hour and a half behind schedule.

Their opener would be taking the stage any minute.

When they all managed to get on the bus, they all collapsed on the floor.

Eddie's shirt was now torn in two places, Jeff's jacket was missing, and somehow Frankie's cheek had a lipstick print on it.

Gareth seemed unscathed.

They made it to the venue just as the openers were wrapping up the last song.

Steve was standing at the door, hands on his hips.

"It'll be fine if we just stay at a hotel! Better than the bus. We won't have to worry about being late because it's right down the road!" Steve rolled his eyes. "You have 15 minutes to be show ready. No hotels without me vetting them next time."

They all saluted him as they rushed past him.

He shook his head and turned to Robin and one of the people in charge of the security at the venue.

"This is why they aren't allowed to make their own accommodations."

[amongemeraldclouds]

better than revenge | chapter one: falling for me, dear?

Lorenzo Berkshire x Slytherin!reader (ft. Ex!Mattheo Riddle)

Series trope: Fake dating

Chapter one summary: While trying to hide from your ex-boyfriend Mattheo, you run into a potential ally and the scheming starts.

Warning: Swearing, allusion to cheating

Author's note: I prefer using I instead of you to refer to the reader. Feel free to comment if you’d like me to tag you when the next one goes live.

Aahh I'm so excited to publish this! It's my first time writing fan fiction and doing a series. I used to write fictional one shots years ago when I was 15. Anyway, enjoy reading! Happy to receive feedback.

main masterlist | series masterlist | chapter two: practice?

What is Mattheo Riddle doing in the library at this hour? He’s supposed to be in class.

I close my book and grab my bag. Trying to tame my racing heart, I sneak off to the shelves. He can’t see me, nope. He no longer has the privilege to interact with me in any way, not since he broke my heart.

I curse inward, walking back, further down the shelves. My eyes dart from him and the exit, mapping out my escape plan. If I wait for him to pass the next five rows of shelves, I can—

“Oof,” I drop my book as I hit something behind me. No, not something. Someone.

I nearly fall but then strong arms catch me. “Falling for me, dear?” I hear a deep, playful voice. Lorenzo Berkshire, we knew each other casually but he and Mattheo are rivals despite being half brothers so I never had much opportunities to speak to him when we dated.

“Ha, funny Berkshire. Maybe if you didn’t randomly stand by shelves, then people wouldn’t knock into you,” I say grabbing my things off the floor and composing myself.

He raises an eyebrow, “maybe if you didn’t walk backwards, you’d actually see where you’re walking.”

“Maybe if your brother stuck to his schedule and he was where he needed to be then I wouldn’t have to go sneaking around the damn library at my damn school. Like I’m the one who did something wrong,” I reply.

“First of all, it’s half brother. And second—what?” His eyebrows knit together.

“Why are you avoiding Mattheo?” His voice softens.

I look away from him and my cheeks burn. “I just don’t want to see him,” I whisper, trying to keep my voice steady. It’s been three weeks yet the memories felt fresh in my mind. A night of forbidden kisses and broken promises. I can feel my eyes sting and it takes everything in me to hold it all in. 

“I don’t know what happened between you two, but knowing Mattheo, it was definitely his fault,” he says. I look at his grinning face and smile back. 

“Listen,” he leans in conspiratorially and holds his arm out to lean on the shelf.

Footsteps grow louder as Mattheo approaches, watching you smiling up at Lorenzo while he stands intimately close to you. “Get a room!” He chides.

Lorenzo smirks at you then turns to face his brother, “stalk much? If you missed me, brother, you could have just called.”

“Fuck off, Enzo,” Mattheo bites out. “I heard a thud and had to see what is was about.”

“Always looking for trouble,” Lorenzo tsked. “You know what? I’ll take your advice. I’ll fuck off and we’ll get a room.” He turns towards me, “what do you say?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I take his hand and force a smile, looking at Mattheo for the first time in weeks. God, I missed his brown eyes and those dark curls.

I inwardly slap myself to stay focused. “Thanks for the advice, Mattheo,” I say sweetly. I hold my head high and leave the library with Enzo, my sadness transformed to anger.

“Thanks for the save,” I bump my shoulder against Lorenzo’s once we’re far enough away from the library. 

He bumps my shoulder back, “any chance I can annoy Mattheo is a great opportunity in my book.”

“So listen,” I start, an idea forming in my head. “What if we continue to annoy him?”

“And how do you propose we do that?” He asks.

“By continuing this” I point between us. I didn’t expect it but I felt courageous speaking to Mattheo earlier when I was with Enzo. It felt good.

Lorenzo smirks, “darling, if you wanted to date me, all you have to do is ask.”

I hit his shoulder playfully, “fake date. Honestly, I’m still getting over Mattheo. It wouldn’t be fair. I’m not yet ready to date for real.”

“Let’s do it!” He agrees enthusiastically.

“Wait,” I stop walking. “You agreed too easily, what’s in it for you?”

“Aside from the kindness of my own heart?” He smirks. I roll my eyes.

“Fine. Here’s a tale as old as time: my father wants me to marry a pureblood. Given my dating history, he doesn’t trust me to make the right decision so he’s been setting me up with his friends’ and allies’ daughters this past year. Now normally I don’t mind wining and dining with beautiful ladies, but at this point, I’m exhausted,” he sighs.

I frown, “Shit, that’s a lot of pressure. But why? We’re still young.”

“Right, but he wants to have a strategic marriage that will keep our social status or even elevate it,” Enzo explains.

I catch on, “My father is influential in the political sphere so it would definitely help you.”

“We don’t actually have to date, don’t worry. But it’s enough to keep him off my back just until we graduate and then I’ll have more room to breathe.”

“So that’s why Mattheo was annoyed earlier! If we date, he’ll think you might marry me and then his ex-girlfriend would be his sister in law,” I realize. 

“Exactly, it’s a win-win situation,” Lorenzo grins then looks at his watch. “I have class in ten minutes. Meet me at my dorm later so we can go over the details in private?” I nod in agreement.

Lorenzo leans closer, “can I kiss you on the forehead?”

“Why of course, fake boyfriend,” I whisper with a small smile, finding an odd comfort in his proximity as he places a gentle kiss on my forehead. A few students around us whisper, witnessing something new to gossip about. 

Fake dating, what could go wrong?

main masterlist | series masterlist | chapter two: practice?

[an-au-blog]

40y/o zosan where Sanji's a movie star and does modeling from time to time (as some actors do) and Zoro who's a stuntman/teaches actors how to do their own stunts.

At first everyone is all "Aw, how cute, they became besties after working on a movie tonight like 20 years ago and now they go to premiers together? How cute, bestie goals haha", but only because the whole cast rotates like in Wes Anderson movies. Same main actors with different settings.

It's always Luffy, Nami, Sanji and Jinbe on the screen. And Franky and Usopp as technicians and scenographers, Robin as a consultant for historical inaccuracies and costume designs, the music is always written by the legendary Brook and it's always produced by Chopper.

But then fans started noticing that it's not only Tony Tony Chopper movies. Sanji invites Zoro at almost every event. In fact now that they look at him more closely - Sanji's wearing what looks like a wedding ring. But then again, he wears jewelry because of the fashion trends.

That is until someone makes a post about how well each of them ages and they notice something...

Zoro used to have three dangling earrings. Now they're two. And Sanji didn't have a ring until after Zoro was left with only the hook of one of the earnings.

It's all just crazy fan theories, plus Sanji loves women, anyone who knew his early career can tell you that much. That is... until Sanji likes one of the "crazy fan"'s post. There's screenshots of his liked posts and threads about what it might mean.

But all hell broke lose when the very next day Sanji posts a screenshot of his dm's with no caption or tags.

Marimo: [link]

Marimo: wtf is this shit cook?

Cook: our wedding ring

Marimo: why did you like the post???

Cook: I want to announce our fifteenth anniversary

Marimo: YOU WERE THE ONE WHO WANTED IT TO BE A SECRET

Marimo: fine just screenshot this and post it with no context or whatever

And then almost half an hour later a second screenshot comes along

Marimo: THAT WAS SARCASM

Cook: you don't use sarcasm

Cook: should I post a picture of our wedding as proof? Some people don't believe the screenshot

Marimo: No

Marimo: who cares if they don't believe

Cook: I do :((

Marimo: ...

Which was followed up by a post from Zoro's account that was a picture of Sanji smiling and holding Zoro's hand, showing off both their rings.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU pt. 55 (12.2)

part 1 | part 54 | ao3

A cop picks him up just outside Dinwiddie, two and a half miles from where he left his car on the side of the road. She’s plump and squat, with red hair and a midwestern accent, like Mrs. Henderson if she grew up in Minnesota.

“Wisconsin,” she corrects. “Hop in, I’ll take you to Lorraine’s.”

“Thanks, Officer…?”

“Greene.”

Steve accepts the offer because his fingertips are so cold they’re starting to burn through his leather gloves, and as she drives them to the diner in town he explains the flat tire — debris flying off an eighteen wheeler, a crazy loud clang followed by a flapping thud-thud-thud, the smell of burnt rubber as he eased onto the shoulder only to remember that he never replaced his busted tire jack.

“Coulda been worse,” Officer Greene shrugs, looking at him with a small grin and tapping a gloved finger against her temple. “Coulda hit ya in the noggin.”

“True," Steve chuckles, "could’ve gone four for four on the concussions.” He has to cover his laugh with a fake cough because he gets a flash of concerned crazy eyes in response, which is pretty fair, actually. Sometimes he forgets the details of his life all sound insane. “Uh. Sports," he amends. "I play— yeah.”

The rest of the drive is quiet. Steve watches the woods, the shadows reaching like blunt fingers over the hills, and the snow turns to freezing rain and pools in all the potholes as they splash down the sad main street, past a junkyard and an old schoolhouse, past boarded-up windows and short, stubby buildings full of failing small businesses. Lorraine’s is a hole in the wall at the end of a neglected strip, half the bulbs on the sign blown out so it just reads Rain’s in flickering yellow light, and Steve thinks that's fitting because this place is shit. This place is shit, and he feels like shit, and he’s going to have to drive home to his shitty trailer and see Eddie’s van parked across the street or maybe it still won't be there at all and he— he fucking—

"Easy," Officer Greene says. "You'll chew a hole through your lip doin' that." She parks the car and turns to him, squinting. "You okay?"

Steve pinches the end of his nose.

In the diner, she slides into the booth opposite him and insists on buying him coffee and a short stack, because, "Well, no offense, young man, but you seem like you may be goin' through it a bit."

Steve winces over his coffee, cradling the warm cup with both hands. “Yeah, well,” he sniffs, “my, uh…" Your what, exactly? "I got dumped.”

He doesn’t know why he gives her the details — the empty bed, the sticky note. Sorry. Something in her eyes makes him feel like he can trust her, and when they finish their meal she reaches over and lays a hand over his. Tells him it sounds like he’s got a lot of other people who love him; tells him he should think about giving one of them a call.

With a lump in his throat and fresh tears in his lashes, he fishes quarters from his pocket and trudges over to the phone. Dials one of the few numbers he knows by heart.

“Hello,” Claudia greets, “Henderson residence.”

A truly ugly noise escapes him, wet and thick with phlegm.

“Hello?” she tries again. "Dusty, is that you? Are you okay?"

Steve’s not about to cry where all the waitresses can see. “Hey, Ma,” he croaks when he feels like he can breathe. “It's Steve. Can I... do you mind if I stay with you for a bit?” 

—

part 56

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[can-i-see-your-passport-please]

Okay so here's everything I know about TF2. Please no one elaborate on anything I know about, because I think it's so much funnier if I have no context to anything. I have absorbed all of this through Tumblr osmosis

Emesis Blue is an excellent film

Soldier apparently was never an actual soldier, he just loves America and really wanted to kill Nazis (the second one i respect greatly)

Medic would probably give you a lobotomy for fun (i don't think this guy's even a doctor)

Two really old guys are fighting bloody wars over gravel I think and their father is named Grey Mann which was most definitely meant to make Gman enjoyers lose it but to be fair his name could also be Gary Man.

What am I on

Heavy and Medic are apparently gay but idk if this is a fandom seeing two men next to each other and going "gay" thing or a "all but confirmed gay" thing but TVTropes referred to them as "Heterosexual Life Partners" which is very funny

emesis blue is so fucking good oh my godddddd the respawn machine is horrifying just from the concept it turned scout into soup

Scout is half French and loves his mother (who is not french) and does not love his father (spy i think)

Medic presumably died went to hell and told the devil "oh I'm like a cat I have nine souls actually. So I should get to go back to being alive" and it fucking worked??????

THE FUCKING SCENE IN?? IN EMESIS BLUE??? WHERE. WHERE SOLDIER TELLS MEDIC "YOU'RE GONNA MAKE IT OUT" AND MEDIC SAYS "i KNOW" BEFORE HE JUST FUCKING DIES AND HE'S THE PROTAGONIST SO YOU'D EXPECT HIM TO LIVE RIGHT??? AND THEN HE JUST DIES AND DOESN'T APPEAR AGAIN FOR SO SO LONG

Pyro is an any pronouns warrior and it commits great atrocities while also having so much sillyness in his heart. I love her

I think Engineer blowed up his arm. I think

Spy is a cunt and also French. I do not think this I know this. I look at him and I sense his cuntery. It radiates off him. I can feel it.

SOMETHING ABOUT THE LETTER M BEING BRANDED ONTO MEDIC'S FACE BEING A REFERENCE TO THE MOVIE SCOUT WAS WATCHING WHERE THE LETTER M IS USED TO MARK A MURDERER. HE'S LITERALLY MARKED AS A MURDERER BY PYRO. SOMETHING ABOUT THE SCENE WITH DEMOMAN AND DELL'S BAR BEING A REFERENCE TO A SCENE IN THE SHINING WHERE THE MAIN CHARACTER IS LITERALLY TALKING TO A GHOST. SOMETHING ABOUT SCOUT'S MOTHER'S HEAD BEING HELD AROUND A CORNER AND DROPPED PARALLELING PYRO'S HEAD BEING HELD AROUND A CORNER AND DROPPED. SOMETHING ABOUT SCOUT'S "IF THEY EVER HIT YOU WITH SOMETHING, YOU HIT BACK TWICE AS HARD" WITH MEDIC SHOOTING SPY TWICE IN THE HEAD AFTER BEING SHOT ONCE IN THE GAME OF RUSSIAN ROULETTE WHY IS EMESIS BLUE SO GOOD

TF2 is in an eternal war with Overwatch for some reason

I was doing a poll a few days ago and the tags psychic blasted me with the information of "by the way people pay like fifty dollars to see medic's tiddies in game." I have gotten varying answers between ninety dollars to three hundred fucking dollars but the constant remains that people will pay Valve comically high amounts of money to see Medic's boobs. What

Scout almost got Earth exploded because he died a virgin???? But then God was like "Okay go back down to earth I'm giving them one last chance to all have sex with you" I'm so confused what does any of this mean none of this makes any sense but it's hilarious

Scout might be legitimately named after Jerma and bears a frightening resemblance to him (though to be fair scout is every white boy in one)

You should watch Emesis Blue it's free on youtube

Demoman's eye is sentient even though he doesn't have it????

I can't decide who's my favorite the white boy the unethical scientist or the silly nonbiney war criminal

Conclusion: What the fuck is team fortress the second one about