#nil as the hanged man

[tiktaaliker]

anywayz im not going to be ACTUALLY doing this for a while but. this is what started my oooooh oc tarot card thoughts and ideas. gazer/rasputin as the tower....

[causetheturtle]

Obsessed with the Young Royals finale.

Obsessed with Simon, Sara, Wilhelm and Felice driving away from a shutdown Hillerska, free from a system which was never going to accept them, happy and together.

Obsessed with how there’s still a chance Hillerska could reopen because that system is next to impossible to take down and the upper-class rarely face real consequences for their actions.

Obsessed with August’s face when he saw Wilhelm walking away, realising that he was trapped. Wilhelm said August was the heir they needed but he couldn’t have been more wrong - that man has bucket loads of trauma, an eating disorder he isn’t even close to ready to confront and no support system around him, he’s not gonna do much better with the role of Crown Prince than Wilhelm did.

Obsessed with Nils coming out to his friends and them easily accepting him, because their issue with Simon really was the fact that he was poor and a socialist, and Nils both still believes in the system he’s in and his queerness doesn’t destabilise the system the same way Wilhelm’s does.

Obsessed with Stella ending up with Fredrika, because although Rosh might have been fun to hang out with for a night Stella also still believes in and upholds the system she belongs to and Rosh was never going to fit in that system or uphold the traditional feminine values needed to survive in it.

Obsessed with how the monarchy is portrayed as unchangeable and impossible to modernise because it’s built on such outdated ideals.

Obsessed with the mix of both happy and open-ended endings.

I just adore it so much

[touyaz]

hunger & holes

pairing itoshi rin x fem reader

word count 1.1k

notes alt title: naga rin supremacy master's thesis

WARNINGS oral (f rec), sacrilege (a little bit. for the imagery. for the desperation.), so so so much biting (it's him. it's me. it's needed.), a little bit of blood (because of the bites), he holds reader up against a wall, a fair amount of him wanting to eat you up (you're welcome <3), no pronouns for reader.

MINORS, AGELESS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ ONLY.

+

"rin, wait," you gasp, helpless to the way he shoves you up against the wall. you push at his chest, hands slipping over his sweat-soaked shirt. "wait a sec—"

"quit it," he rasps, mouthing at your neck. he nibbles at your bare skin as he forces your hands away, pinning them beside your head. you can't focus on the softness of him lacing his fingers with yours when his teeth are sharp, persistent, a heated ache lingering as he moves a breath away only to sink into you again. "you're getting in my way."

he'd been clawing at your body impatiently on the ride up here, but you thought he had enough self-control to get to the bedroom where it's comfortable—

but he's just won the cup final.

it was a grand affair: a five-nil win where he scored a hat trick, where he was named man of the match, where he got to kiss a shining trophy and prove to the world that he's an unparalleled striker. the adrenaline still races through his veins, bold, fiery, and he can't stop leaning into you, moulding you under the heavy weight of him.

tonight, he's a winner, taking home all the glory, taking all that he can get his greedy, greedy hands on.

"bedroom—" you try to get out, but it spirals into a pained moan when he digs his teeth into you, canines cutting into your marrow, so you're messed and jagged and incomplete without him. you think his fervour has you bleeding for him and he licks your wounds like an addict.

"can't—" he grits out. "can't wait. can't get enough of you."

he nips along the delicate slant of your neck where your body yields to his without fight. you whimper his name and he delights. you squirm beneath him and he growls, hooking your flesh between pinched teeth. you bleed for him and he follows with his tongue, eagerly drinking it all up.

"gotta have you," he grunts, pulling away from your aching neck. cold air stings the bites, making you cry out for him. he distracts you from the pain easily, reeling you into a bruising kiss. "now," he pants before diving in again, mouth overbearing, teeth all-consuming.

his tongue lashes against yours wickedly; there's no method to his madness, just the irresistible taste of his spit and your blood swallowed in an unholy union. he speaks in half-thoughts and shredded moans and hasty hands that yank your pants down. and you hang onto his words like they're godsent — the swift, "want a taste," the desperate, "need you in my mouth now," the promised, "gonna fucking eat you."

and maybe that's what they are — divine revelations — because he kneels before you like the messenger of all blessings, hands clasped around your legs so you depend solely on him, nails delving into the pliancy of your thighs, so you follow no one but him.

"don't move," he commands, voice low, husky. 

it'd be blasphemous to do otherwise.

his mouth fleshes out holy scripture in your body; indents and saliva and the faintest traces of your blood smeared across your inner thigh all tell the tale of his near-godly desire to have you falling apart for him. "fuck, i'm gonna— mark you up. all mine. take it all—"

but then his tongue snakes further up and the coil in your stomach pulls painfully taut. he's so wet, so warm, guzzling your sin like a false prophet, high on the ecstasy of lust.

"give it to me," he demands, urging your hips forward, opening his mouth wide to devour you.

it's messy. slick sounds form a hymn as he drags his tongue across the length of your slit. a guttural moan escapes him, cutting through the lewd slurps and it has your knees buckling, more than ready to serve him in any way he wants, sinner or saint or starver.

"it's not enough. need more. more. not fucking—" he growls, squeezing the fat of your thighs. his words are scorching, making you leak right into his mouth. there's no time to be embarrassed when the edges of his lips crook upwards, a dirty smirk wet with your purity. "there it is. that's it," he goads, wrapping his lips around your clit to coax more arousal out of you. he hums around the bud and you slide down the wall, grasping at his hair for some kind of stability. he doesn't even feel how hard you're yanking the strands, numb to everything but the weight of you on his face. "don't stop," he insists. "give me more, give me everything."

your thighs are screaming in protest and he must feel their trembling because in the next moment, he's hauling your legs over his shoulders, folding his arms over the tops so he can squeeze his hands at your apex.

"wanna feel you. around… need you—" you don't know what he's saying. you don't even think he's speaking to you, talking right into your cunt, instead.

you feel weightless, breathless.

then he uses his thumbs to spread your folds, sinking his tongue into your dripping hole, and suddenly everything is too much.

your words slur together. you're sobbing his name and cursing through gritted teeth and praying for your release to come soon. "oh, god— please, rin, please. i can't— can't— rin!"

his drool soaks the bottom of his face and it sticks to the wetness on your lower half; his thumb circles your swollen clit in time with the flicks of his tongue; it isn't longer until that coil finally snaps and you cum with a loud cry of his name.

and he's there — devotee, degenerate, desperate — sticking his tongue out to drink whatever you give him. he's greedy, selfish. he's been hungry his entire life, looking for something to swallow, to make him feel whole.

and you're sweet to him, he realises, laving over the cream that wets the crease of your thigh. you feed him something he never knew he was thirsty for.

but an addict doesn't stop after one high.

"again."

a winner is never satisfied with just one trophy.

"give me more. i need more."

and a man with a hole inside of him can't rest until he's found something to fill it up with.

"gonna take everything you have. 'til there's nothing left. can't stop— won't stop. gotta devour you."

[randomsmilingpotatoes]

i think season 2 did such a great job at showing an alternative life for all the characters. and i want to talk about what that means for wilhelm and simon.

Simon, of course, is most obvious. The thing with Marcus is, I believe he was written to have manipulative traits so that we would continue to root for Wilhelm. It meant that we didn't care when Simon cheated, because we knew he was better anyway. It also explained why Simon even stayed with him in the first place, since he realised quite early on that he wasn't ready for anything serious and that he was still harbouring feelings for Wille.

But I want to put Marcus' toxicity aside for a moment. He otherwise represents a perfect man for Simon, technically. He's a local, he didn't grow up on money, his dates are chilling eating pizza with the speakers blaring, singing karaoke, and hanging out in his place. He made it clear he was interested in Simon from the start, and didn't have a problem being out, because being out wasn't something that affected his life. Both Simon's friends and his mum support the relationship, and you can tell this is because he fits their ideal of who Simon should be with and who fits better into their lives.

Simon sees this life, he sees the ease of living he could have. But he still knows deep down that his heart lies with Wille, and this is what leads him to pursue Wille back after he begins to lose him. He chose a life with Wilhelm.

Wilhelm actually got a glimpse of multiple alternative lifestyles. Now I don't believe that Wille made a move on Felice because he viewed her as an easier life, however, she has always represented this. Ever since the beginning of the show, Felice existed as a potential love interest, in the eyes of everyone else. But in season one, we relatively ignore this, because we know Wille's feelings lie elsewhere.

But in season 2, the prospect of Wilhelm and Felice being a couple appears more tangible. While we, the viewers, are focused on Wille's relationship with Simon, the other students have all but forgotten about it. While Wilhelm himself is focused on Simon as well, this leads to him spending a lot of alone time with Felice that the other students begin to question.

I'm not sure at what point during that scene in his room that Wilhelm decided to try to replicate his time with Simon, or if it was a conscious decision at the time or if it just happened. But it's interesting that he does do this. Now, this ultimately leads to him realising that he cannot replicate the feelings or connection he has with Simon, and Felice admitting that she partially only liked him because he was a prince. So between the two of them, they know where they stand.

But the Forest Ridge boys' reaction is something else. The way they chanted and celebrated for Wille and Felice was something he never received with Simon. Of course, his relationship was private, but we know that it would not have had the same reaction anyway. Especially since they pushed this whole show about the hookup with Felice, with Simon sitting right there.

Wille is unlabelled, and remains that way. We don't know, if he didn't know Simon, whether he has the potential to have feelings for girls or not. So in a realistic sense, this storyline is irrelevant. But it represents a life that he could choose to lead, if he wanted. And he would have the public support of everyone around him.

Nils played such an important role this season in showing a life Wille could also lead. He shows Wille that there are many queer people in their societal class, who are simply keeping it quiet. He shows that Wille can choose to date guys, that there are other queer guys out there who would be willing to stay publicly closeted with him. Guys that would understand why he denied the video, because they themselves would do the exact same thing. Nils even makes this life attainable, by inviting Wille to come on holiday with him and meet people there. And I think, if Simon had not accepted Wille back, this is probably the way he would have gone. But it's not what he wanted.

Wille never wanted to deny the video. He wanted to not say anything, but then when he did have to speak publicly about it, he wanted to say it was him, because he wanted to be with Simon. But he was manipulated, and also not quite ready to come out.

The Queen also presented a different option for Wilhelm. He could come out, he could even be with Simon, if he wanted. But he had to wait til he was eighteen to be public. This is fairly realistic, and probably could have even been a viable option in Wilhelm's and even Simon's eyes, if the video never happened. If he had gotten to control his story all the way through, instead of being outed and having to deny his sexuality in the process. But he shouldn't have to wait to control his own narrative, when someone else already took that away from him.

The speech at the end of season one is Wille's opportunity for a redo. He can reclaim his own power, and tell the world it was him. He is in love with a boy. And in doing that, he chose a life with Simon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wilhelm and Simon both had the opportunity to lead an easier life. They could still be in queer relationships, but with people that fit into their supposed societal class, people that their friends and family approved of. Throughout this time apart, they were both shown that they could both attain this life.

But they chose not to.

They chose each other. Because they realised that no matter what hurdles they have to go through, that they are worth it for each other. They are a couple worth fighting for.

[i23kazu]

seatmates. ( bitch, move over. )

how the genshin men would be seatmates with you. ( college au )

characters : xiao, ayato, kazuha, thoma, diluc, kaeya, cyno, al-haitham, scaramouche warnings : nil, all safe (-ω-)ゞ a/n : trying out a new format today! please reblog with tags and comments <3

xiao

xiao's the seatmate that's always there fifteen minutes early. he's consistent that way, as he's always on time. he'd always be found sleeping on his desk, earphones plugged in. he typically greets you, not unkindly – xiao's not one for morning pleasantries. it's too early for any of this. he is nice, though: once you cut through the ice, it reveals a man in need of subtle care and concern. he takes care of your work when you're sick, often making the detour to your house after class even though his apartment is in the other direction.

ayato

ayato's the seatmate that you can copy homework off of – if he lets you, of course. he's always seen with thoma during break and you're half-sure thoma is completing his homework for him, though. ayato would definitely lend you lunch money if you find yourself in need of it and might even bring you and thoma out for lunch if he's in a good mood.. oh, the things that people with money do. don't take advantage of him, however. the people who have done that in the past dare not to speak of their tale.

kazuha

kazuha's the seatmate that always has his homework completed, and he's also one that has good connections with the teachers. not quite a teacher's pet, but one that makes friends with the teachers such that he knows who would let him off from class early or turn a blind eye for when he wants to sign two people out of class that day... i wonder who it is. he brings you to his favourite places in the school when he's bored – it's often places that he knows are undisturbed.

thoma

thoma is the seatmate that is the teacher's pet. homework done on time, he gets to school early.. sometimes he gets second hand embarrassment when he remembers that he used to be the kid who told the teacher that they had homework assigned to them from the day before. he brings you gifts sometimes, too. one day, you came to class to find a few freshly plucked flowers on your desk. thoma is always seen hanging out with ayato.. wait, does he do ayato's homework too?

diluc

diluc is the seatmate that's also the class president. he's responsible for most of the class, and you can depend on him to bring assignments that are graded with full marks whenever the two of you have study sessions. despite his slightly cold demeanor, you know that he truly does care for his friends, including you. he reminds you of the homework (much to kaeya's chagrin) and will help you, in particular, ask for extensions on assignments if you need it.

kaeya

kaeya is the seatmate that can be pretty rowdy. sometimes, he crushes up his half-written piece of homework to aim at his head – only to be stopped by a soft glare from you. he does do his part in group projects though; but he'd much rather do it alone with you… he can be a joker in class, though — but we all know that once you tell him to stop, you mean it. and you haven’t quite said anything about it just yet.

cyno

cyno is the seatmate that likes to go by the book, except for when the situation calls for him to challenge it. he frequently comes to heads with al-haitham, but other than that, he doesn’t quite cause any problems in class. he’s always willing to spend his break with you though, often bringing homemade goods to share with you. he likes to study with you as well, since you’re one who he can depend on to study efficiently with him.

al-haitham

al-haitham is the seatmate that tries not to care about what’s happening around him, but will often end up intervening. sometimes, when kaeya and diluc get into a fight, al-haitham is typically the one placing a hand protectively in front of you in case things get out of hand. he’s good with sarcastic quips, often bantering with you but never letting anything reach the point of hurting your feelings.

scaramouche

scaramouche is the seatmate who's laid back. he's that student who strolls in a few minutes late – the teachers tolerate him, at most.. but he gets his work done, so it's fine. scaramouche never goes above and beyond when it comes to schoolwork. as long as he finishes his part, he doesn't really care about the rest of it. make the presentation as nice as you want, he's done his part and he's satisfied. don't expect too much out of him, he says, but you know that if you ask him, he'd do it for you.

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i hope you guys liked it!! please remember to like / reblog with tags and comments because they really make my day <3

[howlingday]

Imagine Jaune as Scott Sterling(from Studio C). How funny would that be? Pyrrha would probably sue the coach and let Nora beat up the team.

Oobleck: Welcome back to our coverage of the game between Teams RWBY and JNPR.

Port: If you're just joining us today, you've missed most of an unbelievably well fought match between two incredible teams tonight. It has all come down to the final, penalty shots. All it takes is enough points for either team. Here comes the kick...

Pyrrha: (Kicks, Scores goal)

Oobleck: OH! SPECTACULAR! Team JNPR's star player, Pyrrha Nikos, has just landed a goal for her team, so now the burden rests on Team JNPR's goal-keeper, Jaune Arc.

Port: Here he comes. A fine lad with nerves of steel. He's got more hanging over him than the city of Mantle right now.

Oobleck: Indeed, and it seems the fans are showing their appreciation for it. Yang Xiao Long places the ball on the spot, getting ready.

Port: That girl literally has a cannon for a leg, and here she comes! Winding up for the shot and-

Yang: (Kicks)

Jaune: (Pelted in the face)

Oobleck/Port: OOOOOOOOOOOOH!

Port: THE CANNON HAS FIRED AND HAS STRUCK JAUNE ARC IN THE FACE DIRECTLY!

Oobleck: We clocked that at a stunning 116 kilometers per hour!

Port: Now that's a lot of, er, miles per hour!

Oobleck: Even with aura, there is no chance that young man's nose isn't broken right now.

Port: Oh, indeed!

Jaune: (Dazed)

Goodwitch: (Shining a light in his face, Nods, Leaves)

Port: Now it seems Team JNPR's coach, Professor Goodwitch, is examining him and deems him fit for duty after a short rest. Sadly, he's not out of the woods yet.

Oobleck: On his feet now, a bit shaken.

Port: But not stirred!

Oobleck/Port: HAHAHAHA!

Port: This crowd absolutely loves this young man.

Oobleck: He returns to his team, who welcome him back as a hero. And now comes another penalty kick, and scoring here would make it two nil. Nora Valkyrie approaches the ball with determination!

Nora: (Kicks, Misses goal)

Port: She hits high and wide, way off target!

Oobleck: She must have thought she was playing Mantle Football and attempting a field goal!

Port: Wrong kind of football, I'd say! And back now to Jaune Arc, looking a bit worse for wear, but ready for round two.

Oobleck: The shot takes a moment, but here comes Belladonna!

Blake: (Kicks)

Jaune: (Beaned in the schnozz)

Oobleck/Port: OOOOOOOOOOOOH!

Port: Jaune Arc with the fantastic dive! The ball flies straight through the air and his hands and whacks Jaune Arc right in the sniffer!

Oobleck: Looking again on the instant replay and OH! EVERY EXCRUCIATING DETAIL IS CAPTURED PERFECTLY IN HIGH-DEFINITION PERFECTION! Clocked in at 129 kilometers per hour.

Port: Arc does not look well. Two wonderful saves compounding two DEFINITE concussions.

Goodwitch: (Carries Jaune on shoulder)

Jaune: (Falls, Dragged away)

Oobleck: This seems to be the end of Jaune Arc's performance tonight.

Port: Indeed, as his coach pulls him through the grass and off the field, like a large-breasted lioness dragging a gazelle with a broken nose across the savannah.

Oobleck: Adieu, Jaune Arc. Adieu.

Port: JNPR now with their third PK. Weiss bouncing at the goal like an infant. The crowd holds their breath as Valkyrie moves in... OH! Very anticlimactic there. Let's see who they got to replace Jaune Ar-

Oobleck/Port: JAUNE ARC!

Port: JAUNE ARC IS BACK!

Oobleck: Jaune Arc is still in the game! Oh my, and it seems he's taken a very odd tactic now!

Port: He seems to be in the fetal position, covering his face.

Oobleck: Not a recommended technique, but here it co- Oh, wait! It seems Weiss Schnee is stopping to tie her shoe.

Port: Ho ho! And that's why you do a double-knot, kids!

Oobleck: Arc, still waiting for the kick to happen. He's probably wondering when the-

Jaune: (Looks up)

Weiss: (Kicks, Pops him in the beak)

Oobleck/Port: OOOOOOOOOOOOH!

Oobleck: SWEET, CREAMY DECAF!

Port: The ball strikes Arc right in the face, further crushing his nostrils into thin slits! He must be breathing only blood by now! He's going to look like one of those cartoon characters that just ran into a frying pan while they were chasing after a mouse!

Oobleck: I don't even care that we missed Lie Ren's attempt! Let's go back to-

Oobleck/Port: JAUNE ARC!

Port: THE MAN!

Oobleck: THE MYTH!

Oobleck/Port: THE LEGEND!

Jaune: (Stumbling to the goal, Bloodied and battered)

Port: I can't wait to see Arc and his catlike face reflexes!

Oobleck: Absolutely incredible, though I must say that Arc does not look well at all lying on the ground there.

Port: Well, you know athletes. They like to add a bit of drama to their performances.

Jaune: (Picked up by Ren and Nora)

Port: Are they taking him out?

Pyrrha: (Runs out with chair)

Oobleck: They brought him a chair! A bold move by their coach!

Jaune: (Reaches for his team leaving)

Oobleck: This is basically a gimme! Ruby Rose has to literally kick it anywhere that isn't where Jaune Arc is!

Port: There is no way Team RWBY can mess up this shot!

Jaune: (Begging Ruby)

Ruby: (Kicks, Craters his face)

Oobleck/Port: OOOOOOOOOOOOH!

Oobleck: ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-EIGHT KILOMETERS PER HOUR!

Port: THIS MAN CAN DO NO WRONG! Just look at him in this instant replay, begging for mercy when it should be mercy begging for him!

Oobleck: He has looked Death in the eye and said, "Take your best shot!" To which Death replies with repeated punches to Arc's face! Just over and over and over again!

Port: If Team JNPR make this final shot, it's all over! But-

Oobleck/Port: OOOOOOOOOOOOH!

Port: No! Pyrrha Nikos misses, clearly too distracted by the wounds her partner, Jaune Arc, has sustained in this game! Speaking of, it's time we go back to-

Oobleck/Port: JAUNE! ARC!

Port: His face is like a brick wall!

Oobleck: A brick wall that can feel only pain and cries a lot!

Port: Wait a minute... I see Team RWBY's star kicker, Penny Polendina, but where's Jaune Arc?

Oobleck: ...Oh! It seems Arc is crawling away from the goal! WHAT IS HE DOING?!

Port: HE'S THROWING AWAY THE MATCH!

Penny: (Kicks exactly where she needs to)

Jaune: (...Words cannot describe the calamity of what just happened. At least, they fail to accurately depict what could be described as what really happened. The only accuracy that could be described in this space is that there was physical contact between Jaune Arc's face and a large, head-sized ball, and that there was a lot of bodily fluids that resulted from this contact, and that Jaune Arc was in so much pain that it's likely he passed out or away, though it's also just as likely that he didn't.)

Oobleck/Port: OOOOOOOOOOOOH!

Port: ARC HAS DONE THE IMPOSSIBLE!

Oobleck: ICAN'TBELIEVEIT! LOOKATTHAT! HE'SDONETHEIMPOSSIBLE! He was hit just right! What incredible instincts he had to just crawl away from the goal like that!

Port: His team rushes to the field, happy as a lark, as they all slide in and accidentally kick Jaune Arc in the face!

Oobleck: And now his team his carrying him off and away on an orange stretch of victory, glory, and emergency medical attention! Jaune Arc and his face of steel have won it all!

[sorceresski]

The Babysitter | Neymar Jr

Inspired by another fic I read by @

This gif is so hot…😵‍💫

Reblogs help push my fics out, thank you!☺️

“Do you want this?”

Pairing: Neymar x young!fem reader (reader in their early to mid 20s)

Summary: Weeks of teasing between Neymar and Davi’s babysitter reach a crescendo as Neymar comes home tipsy after a loss seeking comfort and an outlet.

Tags: sexual contact, teasing, babysitter reader, oral! fem receiving, age gap, there will be sexual intercourse, slow burn, a long read I guess

Minors dni

You expected him to walk in any moment now, already anticipating his sour mood which you had come to observe first hand over the past few weeks working as his babysitter. You had watched PSG’s match curled up with Davi in front of the tv in Neymar’s Parisienne penthouse and calling the team’s performance underwhelming would be an understatement. The match ended 2 nil against psg and Neymar had been given a red and sent off the field.

That was 2 hours ago anyway. Now, Davi had dosed off on the couch, resting his head on your shoulder. You began to plan your course of action for when Neymar returned, wanting to keep as much distance between you and him as much as possible.

These days you didn’t trust yourself around him. Neymar was an attractive man and if you didn’t know better you would say he was flirting with you. It began a week after you started babysitting Davi. You were sitting on the floor of Davi’s room, watching him “paint". The top you wore wasn’t particularly revealing but as you hunched over the low table, the girls were very visible(you didn’t know this at the time). You didn’t notice Neymar at the door till Davi looked up and shouted

“Daddy!" Abandoning his paint brushes.

You looked up in surprise, just in time to catch his eyes leave your chest as he looked at Davi. You decided not to dwell on how long he had been standing there watching you two. But in the weeks that followed, you began to feel his gaze as you walked past, stolen glances, “accidentally” walking in on him in a towel fresh after a shower and winks when he said goodbye to you and Davi.

You realised your mind had wandered when you heard shuffling outside the door. It was a few minutes to 12am when Neymar walked in, eyes slightly glazed over, tossing his duffle to the side. The apartment was dimly lit so you couldn’t read his expression as he stopped in his tracks after noticing you on the couch.

"Welcome!” You said, standing up hurriedly. He blinked at you, swaying slightly. He was tipsy. “I’ll take him in," you gestured to Davi. You heaved the boy up and made a beeline to his bedroom, not waiting for a response from Neymar.

You took your time tucking him in and when you came back, Neymar was by the kitchen sink gulping down a glass of water, his jacket tossed on the couch.

“I didn’t expect to meet you here." His gaze was piercing. "You should’ve gone, I’ll pay you for the extra time"

You looked everywhere but at him.

“It’s fine. I stayed because Davi wanted to stay up to watch the match, so he slept later than usual. I’ll just grab my things and go.”

Neymar nodded, turning to head for his room.

"Let me know when you’re about to leave.”

Five minutes later, you were stood outside his bedroom, with your purse and jacket hanging on your arm. You took a shaky breath and knocked.

“Come in”

The room was dark illuminated only by the city lights flooding in though the big windows facing the street. You froze at the entrance when you saw him. He was in front of a full length mirror in sweatpants, a very defined V disappearing below the band.

“Close the door,” he spoke, looking at your reflection in the mirror. You gulped and stepped in, wondering why you were suddenly so obedient.

He stalked towards you. You didn’t know you had unconsciously stepped back until you felt the door knob dig into your back. You felt the heat radiating off him as he came impossibly close. Neymar touched your chin, dragging your eyes from your feet to his. Your breath hitched in your throat.

He leaned in and slumped on your shoulder with a sigh, wrapping his hands around your waist pulling you even closer. As if programmed, you dropped your purse and jacket and wrapped your hands around his shoulders breathing in his scent.

In the mirror behind him, you saw how defeated he looked and you instantly knew he needed comforting. You caressed his back, not sure what was expected of you.

Luckily, he pulled away but before you could recover, he crashed his lips into yours. You closed your eyes, kissing him back, your mind already racing. Neymar jr was kissing you or was it the other way around. Eventually, he pulled back, you both needed to breath.

This time, you looked into his lust filled eyes unabashed. You reached up pulling him down to your level and kissed him. Slow, deliberate but desperate. His hands fell below you waist, groping your ass through your pants, you felt wetness pool at your core. You bit his lip and he groaned into your mouth picking you up. Your legs latched to him as he walked to the bed, beginning to leave sloppy kisses against your neck.

Neymar gently placed you on the bed, positioned himself between your legs and tugged on your shirt. You rested on your elbows, giving him room to lift the shirt off you. He kissed his way from your mouth down to your chest, stopping just above your lacy bra.

He looked up at you, brows furrowed. "Do you want this?” You nodded desperately, not finding your voice in that moment. That was all he needed. Moments later, your bra was off, tossed somewhere as he sucked on your breasts, giving each nipple equal attention. You moaned, fingers caressing his head and back.

He tugged off your trousers and you watched as he stood to remove his, his bulge very visible through his briefs. You bit your lip as you watched him crawl up to you, a sly smile on his face. Neymar kissed you and ground his hips against yours, the only obstruction being both your undergarments.

His hands explored, as if trying to commit your body to memory.

“I’ve wanted this since the first day I saw you,” he said.

He loved how you responded when he sucked on that spot on your neck which didn’t take him long to find. Neymar kissed his way down to your core and you trembled in anticipation as he slowly pulled your panties down your thighs. Neymar kissed your inner thigh, his beard tickling you.

You sucked your breath in anticipation as you watched him finally dip where you wanted him desperately. You moaned as he ran his tongue along your slit, hands automatically reaching down to grab his head.

“You’re so wet," he rasped against your thigh. He flicked his tongue on your bud and you gasped, grabbing the sheets. He continued his ministrations, loving your moans, glancing up occasionally to see the effect he had on you. You thrashed in his sheets as he introduced a finger, then another into you.

“Oh fuck, daddy,” you cursed beginning to feel that familiar tingling in your stomach, he knew you were close. You came with a loud moan, grinding against his face, chest heaving.

“Daddy?” He asked, teasing you as he came back up with a satisfied smile on his face. You smiled back as he kissed you, tasting yourself on his lips.

He had taken off his briefs somehow and began to line himself at your entrance. You looked down and gasped at his size, just as he began to push into you.

Neymar groaned as he bottomed out in one thrust. “You’re so tight,” he breathed against your neck giving you time to adjust before he began thrust into you. The pain you felt quickly gave way to pleasure, raising your hips to meet his thrusts. He took one nipple in his mouth, his hands giving attention to the other breast and alternating between the two.

He placed your legs on his shoulders, the new angle giving him access to that spot deep within you. You moaned and scratched at his back, the beginnings of another climax creeping on you. He quickened his movements when he felt you begin to clench around him, your moans driving him crazy. His thrusts became irregular and strained as he chased his pleasure and yours.

You came all over him with a deep moan, rising to wrap your arms around his neck. He pushed into you a few times before pulling out, his seed splashing on your belly as he came with a groan.

“Fuck,” he said as he kissed you again. Neymar rose to go to the bathroom, returning with a wet towel which he used to wipe you down. He laid beside you and pulled you closer. You rested your head on his damp chest, and sighed deeply feeling sated.

You had just fucked your boss, you thought for a brief moment as his hands rubbing your back lulled you to sleep.

A/n: this is my first fic on here, my first time writing again after about 4 years. And it’s my first time writing smut😵‍💫 Please be nice lol.

[moon-lv3r]

my cursed fate °.*ೃ✧˚.

🦋 category: one-shot, au where geto did not defect when he was supposed to

🦋 characters: geto, gojo, nobara, yuji, megumi, nanako, mimiko, mentioned nanami, shoko

🦋 summary: au - in which geto didn’t turn evil so quick but will his fate allow him to stay pure? even after he talked things out with gojo?

🦋 warnings: nil

🦋 notes: idk whats the purpose of this pls don’t ask. i kinda played around with mimiko’s technique and how it works since the specifics were never shown (how the doll works to kill targets)

Geto Suguru could only wonder, what was the purpose of being a sorcerer? The very end of the path was the dead corpses of everyone he had ever cared about.

He had seen the flaws the world has to offer. He wasn’t a fan of it. But what else could he do aside from doing his best to defend those he should?

Geto Suguru vowed to protect all sorcerers around him. He did not care about non-sorcerers anymore. He just can’t see any more of his comrades getting hurt. He had never regretted this decision.

He smiled as he watched Nanako and Mimiko grow up, alongside Megumi. Those two enjoyed pestering Megumi. They had a funny sibling-like relationship. Suguru never regretted taking the twins away. He just wished he had done more to the village instead of just walking away. He enjoyed seeing the twins having fun with someone with similar interests, like Nobara. How happy they were.

Suguru would do anything to shield them from dangers.

He could not do anything about the humans producing cursed spirit though. He had sat down with Satoru and the both of them had a small talk about it. It was upsetting, but the truth.

All he could do was just swallow the negativity down to his very core. He should be able to do it. To protect those around him. Seeing them safe was worth it.

It had to be.

As long as they could be safe. He could use his curses to train the students when it came to practicing. Suguru never took on any missions after meeting the twins. He could not bring himself to do so. Cleaning humanity’s dirty work without any sort of reward, only his drained energy in return. How could he subject himself to that?

He could only watch and see as the first years train with the twins. Nanako and Mimiko were not like Maki and Mai. Nanako and Mimiko were fraternal twins unlike the Zen’in twins.

Mimiko’s technique was the most similar to Nobara’s. It involved the skin to skin contact of the target to Mimiko’s stuffed doll, then tying a noose around it to hang the target to death. The doll would essentially become the target when it was touched.

Nanako’s technique was less murderous at first glance. It manipulates photographed objects, good for long distance escaping. Though Suguru still trained Nanako to fight hand to hand. One can never have their guard down.

The Hasaba twins were amazing sorcerers, though Zen’in Maki could put them out with ease. A mere human. A mere human with super strength, like the very man who ruined his innocent youth.

Maki was a normal person, yet here she was. An exception to the school. It was people like her who caused problems for real sorcerers to fight against. Suguru often debated her whole existence and reason for being in the school.

Though he should not.

She was still fighting, on their side, so he should not judge her too harshly. At least she knew her place, somewhat.

Yuji was another exceptional fighter. He was so much like Haibara.

The reason why he decided to have students train with his curses.

So they would not die in missions against a curse they were unmatched against.

Geto Suguru would do all that he could to protect all that he has left. He shall never leave anyone behind. Everyone was going to be safe, he was going to grow in strength and train everyone so that they could defend themselves.

He made that promise with Gojo Satoru.

The path that Tsukumo had asked him to choose, and the one he picked was to protect everyone.

He was staying true to himself, right?

This was his true thought. His most sincere belief. His genuine self.

He did not like non-sorcerers but the safety of his friends was more important. He was not crazy enough to get rid of all non-sorcerers… right? It wasn’t something achievable… right?

His job now was to defend his friends. Humans were undeserving, but that did not mean that his fellow sorcerers should suffer. He would use his technique to help them, giving the students cursed spirits to practice with.

Nobody knew how curses even tasted like… How gross it was… How could he expect people to understand?

That was, until he met Yuji. The boy who reminded him of one of the main reasons why he chose to project everyone instead of rebelling.

Haibara Yu…

They were so similar…

Their smiles.

Their innocence.

Their need of helping those in need.

“Geto-Sensei!” Nobara’s loud and annoyed tone hung in the air as she ran out from the classroom and out into the field, calling out to him. “Nanako and Mimiko are up to their usual tricks again!”

Suguru laughed as he turned around to see the hilarious sight of Nobara suddenly having long pink hair, no doubt from Nanako’s technique of manipulating photographed objects. Nanako really enjoyed photoshop for this reason. Behind Nobara was Yuji, Megumi and the Hasaba twins, Yuji and Megumi had their hair swapped, no doubt that it was Nanako’s work. Nanako really enjoyed toying around with her juniors, teasing them nonstop and testing her new photoshop technique on them.

“Nanako,” Suguru called out. “It's not fun to pick on your juniors like that.”

That comment made him remember the old days when Satoru would often tease Utahime to no end, despite her being the senior. The good old days.

“Fine,” Nanako responded as she took pictures of her three juniors and returned their hair to normal.

Nobara turned back to look at the twins, and charged towards them, her hands reaching for her nails that she kept. “I am so going to get back at you two!” She screeched, ready to throw her nails at the twins. Kugisaki Nobara has the talent for her technique, though her physical ability could use more improvement.

The scene that unfolded before Suguru was a funny one. Teens soaking in the fun of their youth. That was what he wanted to do now, shield them from the potential dangers as they were just children. He just wished that he had someone to shield his youth from the likes of Fushiguro Toji, that stupid, stinking monkey.

It was hard for him to look at Megumi sometimes, seeing how much those two had in common. From their face down to their personalities, it was scary for Suguru to see the tamed version of his greatest nightmare. He knew it was not Megumi’s fault for having that monkey to be his father, but Suguru just could not help but be reminded of his tortuous year caused by that filthy monkey. He knew Megumi hadn’t had it easy, having that monkey abandoning him at a young age.

Him and Satoru would never allow their youths to be stolen ever again. Not while he was standing, not while he was with Satoru, ensuring their goals remained intact. It was not a crime to be carefree. A child should be able to enjoy the nature the world has to present, instead of seeing the void of adulthood.

Though the cruelty of the world could never be hidden away forever, Suguru wanted the children to enjoy their blissful innocence for as long as time would allow for it. For as long as fate would give them.

Though Suguru often wondered, just what else could he do? His mind has been plagued with an endless train of questions. Questions that have remained answered for years.

All he wanted was a world where everyone he ever loved could be safe. Sure he was doing his best in protecting them now but as long as curses existed, there would always be the sense of danger looming around, forever haunting him, tainting his life. Curses coming from people like Zen’in Maki.

Geto Suguru will never stop protecting the weak. He will just find another way to defend them.

Nobody deserves to have their lives tainted. Especially not by forces that could be eliminated.

“Suguru!” Satoru’s typical cheerful voice echoed in the air, catching Suguru’s attention.

Suguru laughed as he saw his blindfolded friend making his way towards him. “What is it? Satoru?” Suguru asked, wondering what could his dear friend be wanting from him.

“The higher-ups want to meet us again,” he whined, as though he remained a teenager. Gojo Satoru was a teenager stuck in the body of an adult.

Suguru laughed, “I wonder what trouble you got us into this time.”

Satoru responded back with another laugh, “Those old people are just cranky,” he said.

After dealing with Gojo Satoru, it was no wonder that the higher-ups would be cranky. Satoru had never once listened to them, their words having no meaning to the man who could decimate them as and when he liked. Perhaps it was fear that also played a part in their crankiness.

There were a lot of reasons for their dislike of the strongest. Yet what could they do? The world of jujutsu was complicated, yet here Geto Suguru was, seemingly helping out.

Eating, consuming, engulfing, absorbing.

Over and over.

Repeat.

Redo.

Again.

Over and over, never ending.

The actions he would have to do time and time again. Sometimes he wondered how he tolerated the taste. Why did he tolerate it? He wondered…

It was to ensure that the people he cared for would remain safe. That was all. Ignorant humans did not deserve an ounce of his concern. He was only doing all of this for the sake of his comrades, they were who that mattered. Everyone else was nothing to Geto Suguru.

In his eyes, they held no value. They were the reasons why those Suguru cared about lost their spark, their life. Why should he care? It was not a surprise when Suguru turned out like Tsukumo, a special grade who would not go on missions.

He only went if Satoru went with him, then he would be more willing to at least swallow some curses. Otherwise, he refused to even step foot into the venue, unless there was a really good reason for him to do so.

Things have remained this way for years. The higher-ups could do little to change him, maybe because Satoru didn’t allow them to as well. The higher-ups could do little against the powerhouse that was Gojo Satoru.

Not when he could easily destroy everything while blindfolded.

Suguru and Satoru used to be equals. Yet here Satoru stood, all alone up on the pedestal everyone built for him and nobody allowed him to step down. Suguru was the only one who allowed him to breathe away from the pedestal, to be viewed as something aside from a prize. To be normal.

Though Satoru never once tried to make Suguru feel that way, Suguru just can’t seem to shake off the feeling of being under Satoru’s shadow. It was obvious that Satoru was at a different level, one Suguru could never reach. A level only accessible by Gojo Satoru himself.

What was Geto Suguru?

He had learned reversed cursed technique way after Satoru. His domain was not perfect, he tried his best to hone it to the best of his abilities. But Suguru was not the honoured one. He was just a friend of the strongest.

At least he still had the ability to defend those in need, though he wished he hadn’t had to swallow those damn curses. Curses caused by humans. Humans who almost never had to deal with the consequences of their actions.

Who was the one handling them all? Geto Suguru. But he was alright with it, as long as everyone around him stayed as safe as possible.

What could go wrong?

Of course who could blame him when Itadori Yuji had died on a mission. Having his heart ripped out by none other than Sukuna himself. Having a young Megumi witnessing the scene. It’s all wrong. Children’s innocence should be protected, yet here it was, all ruined, ripped out, shattered into pieces, destroyed beyond recognition. All that he had fought for… Gone, just like that.

It had to be the higher-ups messing about. It had to have been them, Suguru knew that Satoru knew it was the higher-ups too.

Why was protecting something so pure and innocent so hard? What sin had those children committed to have this happen to them?

They should be enjoying the freedom, yet here they were… enslaved to the consequences that those humans created because they couldn’t use jujutsu… if only everyone knew how to control their cursed energy… Maybe then…

No.

Suguru snapped him out of that murderous fantasy… He cannot fall back. Not into that ideology… But it was something that might work out…

He should just stop thinking.

Even though Yuji managed to come back to life… everything was just wrong. Why was Suguru still tolerating the higher-ups? They have been nothing but trouble…

“Are you sure everything will be fine?” Suguru asked.

Satoru laughed, his hands waving about, “As long as nobody finds out about Yuji. I told Shoko to handle it.”

But wouldn’t Yuji still be in danger after the revelation of his status? Will that boy ever be free? It was unfair. He should not have been roped into this! His innocence should’ve stayed with him. Why was this happening?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why couldn’t Suguru have stopped it? If he was there, none of it would have happened! Perhaps he should have just gone on missions! But who would give an obviously dangerous mission to a bunch of children?

It was all the higher-up’s fault.

Their mindless actions repeatedly caused mistakes. All they succeeded in doing was ridding children of their innocence. Using mere children to get rid of curses, instead of finding ways to make sure curses could no longer exist… Tsukumo was right, the higher-up’s were treating the symptoms, not getting to the root of the problem.

But what could he do?

Suguru was out for a walk one night when he encountered a fellow sorcerer. One that was supposed to be dead, 6 months ago.

Nisemura Kentaro (偽村 健太郎). Grade 1 sorcerer. His cursed technique was invisibility. The higher-ups have never been fond of his ability for some reason. Nisemura had the ability to turn anything and anyone with cursed energy invisible. It was rather cool to Suguru, where was the harm?

Suguru had trained with Nisemura before, and they mastered reversed cursed technique together.

Was the one before him a fake?

“Long time no see, Geto,” Nisemura greeted. The only thing foreign about Nisemura was the stitches on his forehead.

“How?” Suguru asked.

Nisemura’s lips formed a small smile. “I barely survived, but the higher-ups chose to hide me away. Kept me known as dead. I was held captive. Cruel I know. Haven’t they always been this twisted?”

Suguru nodded.

“What if I asked you to join me, in over throwing the higher-ups?” Nisemura asked, the request shocking Suguru.

“Why me? Why not Satoru?” Suguru asked.

“Because the higher-ups will suspect Gojo, no matter what he does. Asking him would be begging for me to be exposed. You however…,” Nisemura explained. His plan involved changing the world of jujutsu. Similar ideals to Geto Suguru himself.

“I would not be as suspicious, while still remaining strong enough?” Suguru answered.

Nisemura nodded, while awaiting Suguru’s answer. All Suguru said was that he would consider it, and to meet back at the same place a week later at the same time.

Suguru decided to agree, something had to be changed. The way things were handled… getting rid of curses… not letting any more innocence be corrupted. Though his methods and Nisemura’s clashed. Suguru suggested killing every non-sorcerer. It was his only good idea.

Nisemura shot it down. All he said was a Shibuya plan. Suguru did not know the details of it. All Nisemura told him was that many people would be involved, and that it was all for the greater good. Suguru’s role was to lure jujutsu sorcerers away from the station, before meeting Nisemura in the station so that they could do something together.

Something about the Nisemura standing before him felt different. He was still the same Nisemura with long, bleached blonde hair tied in a braid, the same Nisemura with emerald eyes. The same Nisemura who often dressed himself in crop tops because the weather was too hot. But he did not have the same mannerism as the old Nisemura. It felt forced.

Nonetheless, Suguru went ahead with Nisemura’s plans. Nisemura had Suguru ingesting as many curses as he could, to unleash during Shibuya. Nisemura had points to prove, and he was going to show it.

Suguru wondered if Nisemura’s plan could truly work. Nisemura seemed to have other accomplices as well, though Suguru never met them. Something was boiling inside of Suguru as he began to doubt Nisemura. The closer the date got, the more his suspicions grew.

“I know you doubt my idea, Geto,” Nisemura announced. It was during one of their meetings at Nisemura’s hideout. “But trust me, it will work. The curse free world you and I envision will arrive. It is more practical than your idea of killing every non-sorcerer. They might be useless, but they’re worth more alive than dead.”

What Suguru failed to realise was the fact that Nisemura was trying to instill his former negative beliefs back into his mind. Suguru fell for it. So easily. All the facts were thrown in his face, how could he not?

He felt inclined to follow his friend. He felt as though Nisemura somehow got him. He did not judge Suguru’s insane idea, just claimed it to be impractical.

He was slowly spiraling again. His twisted idea of protection was slowly returning to him. Those monkeys…

Their filthy impacts…

Nisemura saw through Suguru, and he egged it on, added fuel to the fire. Nothing Nisemura did was accidental. Nisemura even stole some items without Suguru’s realisation.

Fingers.

Mechamaru’s death seemed to be brushed under the rug as well. Suguru was not at the scene where the innocent boy died.

The day of the Shibuya incident finally arrived.

Suguru did as he was told. So many monkeys just screaming in confusion. Some dying, some still living. They wore ridiculous costumes, begging to be set free. Poor thing, silly monkeys could not comprehend how powerless they were. Suguru slowly released some low level curses, for the jujutsu students to handle.

Nisemura has said that he will handle Gojo Satoru himself. He wanted a meeting with Satoru in the station, claiming that it was important for Satoru to be alone before Suguru came to join them.

The students fought well against the curses. Nisemura had ordered Suguru to only head into the station at a certain time. When the time arrived, he entered the station, to where Satoru stood, panting.

Suguru was more confused at the carnage that seemed to have unfolded. What on earth happened? Nisemura was nowhere to be found! Satoru seemed exhausted, he greeted Suguru with a small smile despite his gasps for air.

A cube was thrown in front of Satoru.

A blade penetrated Suguru’s mind.

Suguru’s eyes widen his shock as realisation washed over him. It was never Nisemura all along. It has always been someone else. Suguru was just a pawn. He should have realised it, before he allowed his hatred for monkeys to overtake him just like that.

Satoru looked on in frozen shock as the invisibility wore off to reveal someone who was supposed to be dead. The stitches opening, the brains moving. Suguru’s brain fell on the floor, his blood joined in with those of innocent civilians.

The prison realm was slowly sealing Satoru as well.

All of the confusion has led to this very moment.

Nisemura’s body slumped on the ground as the dead body of Suguru suddenly came to life. But it was no longer Suguru.

Satoru was sealed.

Frenzy broke out as Kenjaku, who took over Suguru’s body walked about. He knew Jogo stole the fingers he had stolen from Suguru, but he did not mind. The more carnage, the better.

The Hasaba twins were the first to happen upon the new Suguru. They knew that it was not the same man. Kenjaku did not want to waste his time with mere children, he had better things to do.

Yet, the twins refused to let him go, preparing to engage in a fight. Kenjaku had Suguru ingest curses for a reason, he unleashed a strong one on the twins before leaving. Nobara had to join in and help the twins.

News of the loss of two special grades spread like wildfire. Curse users finally realising their freedom while sorcerers were fighting for their lives.

Megumi had witnessed the death of his father, without even knowing who that man was. Poor boy. He was just so confused. All he knew was that the man could have killed him, but killed himself instead.

Nanako had to save Nobara from being touched by Mahito as well. Fighting the curse alongside Yuji and Todo. The death of Nanami was fueling Yuji as he fought.

In the end, Kenjaku still won. His plan still succeeded.

Nisemura was branded a traitor, Suguru was branded a traitor. Anyone who tries to free Satoru would be branded a traitor. Even Yaga, who taught all three men, was branded a traitor as well.

The cursed fate never goes away.

[player1064]

SLAG GARY im obsessed! is there any more you’re happy to share

there's SO MUCH written.... I must admit it is mostly smut. which I will save for when the fic is actually posted... but here's a little NON smut exerpt

---

1999.

There’s a commotion in the dressing room when Roy walks in. Becks and Gary are in the middle of it all, staring each other down with their arms crossed. The rest of the team, all talking over each other in heated debate, fall quiet as he walks through them.

They’ve just won two-nil. There shouldn’t be any kind of argument at all.

“Well?” Roy barks out when neither Becks nor Gary immediately offer an explanation, and the room immediately descends back into chaos.

He steps between the two of them before they start yelling in each other’s faces, pressing his hands to their chests to hold them back. “Quiet!” he yells back to the others.

They all hang their heads and quietly shuffle back to their benches, leaving Roy to deal with the two idiot boys still trying to talk over each other.

“He’s trying to –” “—he’s acting like he fucking owns me, oh my God –” “—I’m just asking you to act like a decent fucking person –” “—because you’re the expert on that, are you? –” “—I’m miles ahead of you, that’s for –”

“OI!” The two of them are stunned into silence and they turn to Roy, blinking like they hadn’t noticed he was there. “What the fuck is going on?”

“He’s gone and –” “—he doesn’t know when to mind his fucking business –” “—I’m just sayin’, could he not have picked anyone else –” “—it’s got nothing to do w’you! –” “—it feels like it’s a lot to do with me, actually –”

Jesus Christ. “One at a time,” Roy says through gritted teeth. He turns to Gary first, since he’s meant to be the sensible one, and he waits.

“David here seems to be under the impression that he has any fucking right to tell me who I can and cannot sleep with, and –”

“I never said that! All I said was that if you were a half decent friend –”

“I can fuck whoever I fucking want, Becks!”

“No, you can’t,” Becks says, reeling back a bit at the force of his own words. Gary stares at him, open-mouthed. “Not Diego fucking Simeone, Gaz, not him.”

“Where the fuck do you get off, eh?” Gary argues, pushing past Roy to shove Becks in the chest. “You don’t own me, Becks, you made well sure a’ that. Why are we even having this argument, oh my God. I’m a grown man. You know what –” He steps back, raises his hands in the air in mock defeat. “No, I don’t give a fuck.”

With that, he spins on his heel and storms out the dressing room, slamming the door behind him. Roy has to use both hands to hold Becks back from chasing after him. He strains against him, but his fiery temper still isn’t any kind of match for Roy’s strength and he quickly gives up, choosing to yell “desperate FUCKING slag!” at the closed door instead.

[zee-has-commitment-issues]

I love your analysis SO much!!!! You're so smart (Dani too obviously). I never thought about the friendship of Vincent and August but now I can't get them out of my head. Well and now I'm wondering if you could do a similar analysis for Nils and Vincent 👉👈 no pressure tho

HELLO! We would love to give you our thoughts about Nils and Vincent. As avid Nilcent shippers, we have thought about this a lot. And by that I mean that I, Zee, am a Nilcent shipper and I have dragged Dani down to the pits of hell by my side. ANYWAY:

Nils and Vincent are so interesting as a dynamic. Like we're not kidding, there is so much to dissect with this one.

On a surface level, they act in the opposite way you would think they should. Nils is very much the cookie cutter, stereotypical image of wealth, and Vincent is more loose with it. But the more you dive into it, the more it makes sense.

Nils is careful because he is comparatively nouveau riche. He can't break any rules. His entire reputation hangs in the balance, and reputation is all you have when you're on the status level of Nils. That's why he stays pretty quiet, that's why he stays in the closet, that's why he's seemingly a follower.

Vincent, by comparison, is far less careful. He knows the rules. He has memorized every single one so well that they just play in the back of his mind, warped and kind of bended from how much they have been drilled in. He isn't actively thinking about them because he doesn't have to.

And this key difference between the two of them reflects in everything down to the way they dress. Nils is always dressed up. He always looks nice. He's always ready to be seen and observed. Vincent experiments. He plays more with bright colors and jewelry (like his chunky necklaces) and he isn't always read to be seen (like in s1e2 when he's in a bathrobe).

Dani's point: As far as dress and conduct go, they seem like the opposite of what they are and it is kind of exactly what happens the longer someone stays around money.

But then when we get down into the nitty gritty of their dynamic, it get's stranger. Because this relationships is fundamentally unequal based on status alone, and yet they don't seem to be using each other all that much.

Vincent uses Nils in the August-take down and throughout season two as has right hand, but Nils seems a ready and willing participant. There isn't much that feels forced about their positions in season two.

However, this doesn't come without a caveat. We do actively see Vincent look down on Nils.

Zee's observation: something something the actor being shorter was an interesting and important choice because he's being looked down on both physically and metaphorically something something.

In season one, Vincent talks about how he and The Society are allowed to be in the club, but Nils isn't because he is nouveau riche. And then in season two, when Nils asks to be co-captain of the rowing team, Vincent tells him no.

But Nils is far more qualified for that position. In fact, Vincent isn't even on the rowing team in the first season. Nils is. Vincent gained his new position based on status, even though Nils is in every sense the better option.

It's the Wizard of Oz: don't look behind the curtain. Vincent is the big talking head and Nils is the man talking into the microphone.

Despite all of this, they do actually just like each other. It is an active choice for them to hang out with each other. It is an active choice for them to go on that vacation together in between seasons, and to overthrow August together, and to just hang out whenever they can. No one is forcing them to do that.

If this was a status thing, Nils would be looking for higher conquests, and Vincent would not be wasting his time "slumming it" with nouveau riche boys. They choose each other.

They repeatedly prove that they trust each other too. And, in Vincent's case, he repeatedly shows Nils that he can be trusted. It isn't blind faith, Vincent actively demonstrates that he is worthy of Nils' trust.

In season two, Nils says he thinks Vincent knows about him being gay, but it’s not something they really talk about. One would think that would freak him out, but it doesn’t. Because he trusts Vincent to keep that secret safe.

It’s proven time and time again that Vincent is trustworthy with that secret. Not only Nils’ sexuality, but also Wille’s. He shows Nils that he’s trustworthy by not talking about other people like that. When the video comes out, Vincent’s only thought/comment is about who made the video, not who is in it, and he consistently looks past Wilmon being around each other in favor of minding his own business. That all proves to Nils that Vincent can be trusted with his sexuality.

But chicken or the egg: which came first?

Did Vincent figure out Nils’ sexuality and then become nonchalant about those things? Or was he already nonchalant about it and then figure out Nils? Is Vincent fruity too?

In comparison to August and Vincent, who have the worst kind of friendship, Vincent and Nils might just have the best kind of friendship. It isn't simply blind faith and a business transaction. August blindly trusts Vincent with all of his secrets, but Nils knows his secrets are safe.

Beyond the Nilcent ship, Nils and Vincent are just in this, like, near-perfect friendship. It's really very strange.

Y'all literally ask us more. We'll do it. We'll analyze the shit out of this show.

@the-navistar-carol

[tiktaaliker]

the fool opportunity / potential / new journeys

reversed recklessness / poor judgement / risk-taking

[zorosq]

the other ; trafalgar d. water law

↻ angst, one-sided love, grammatical error

↻ pairing ↬ law x fem!reader! x zoro

@nil-deathsmoke asked: I would like to request! If you could I would like for you to make something angst with Law. Oh! Like Law liking a girl from the straw hats but she has eyes for a certain green haired man in the crew. If you wanna of course.

a/n oh yes ofc. i love hurting my lovely dear doctor 😘

oh that smile. how he wished that he was the sources of your smile. “i heard that zoro bought a little something for y/n yesterday,” nami wiggled her eyebrows at usopp.

“he should just confess to her already,” usopp sighed. “torao, what do you think about it?” usopp asked. he just let out a sigh and step away from the duo.

“what’s gotten into him?” usopp pouted. “eh, he’s always been like that anyway,” nami said, patting usopp on the shoulder.

it was then he heard your beautiful laugh ringing in his ears. “zoro! i can’t believe you actually wore that!” law’s eyes traveled to the sworsman. he was wearing robin’s attire. his cheeks were dusted in light pink.

“it’s a dare, alright?! i wouldn’t want to seem like some sort of a loser to that pervert cook,” he spat. luffy was laughing his ass off while asking for someone to take a picture. not that they actually have a camera.

just when he was about to go and find robin to join her read books, your voice called out to his name which left him frozen in his spot. “law! where are you going?”

you asked, jogging up to his side. his eyes just went to find robin and you quickly understood. “ah! i see,” you smiled and wiggle your eyebrows. “when are you going to do it?”

his brows furrowed together in confusion. “do what?” he asked, brows still furrowed. “confess to her?”

“what?! where did you even get that idea from?!” he shouted defensively. “well... you’re always hanging out with her... so i just assumed,”

i don’t like her... the one i like is you...

“ahh... well, i’m going to leave you to it. enjoy your evening!” you said before running back to where zoro was. not surprisingly, your face brightened even further if that was possible.

alas, he would have to rip his heart out if he can’t simply let go of you.

[art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament]

SET THIRTEEN - ROUND ONE - MATCH EIGHT

"Oath of the Horattii closeup" (1784 - Jacques-Louis David) / "Visit hos Excentrisk Dam (Visit to an Eccentric Lady)" (1921 - Nils Dardel)

OATH OF THE HORATTII CLOSEUP: Zoom in to the swords. Swords are cool. Look at how many swords those are! Swords. (@princeoftheroses)

VISIT HOS EXCENTRISK DAM (VISIT TO AN ECCENTRIC LADY): The story of this painting has always captivated me. The dead man hanging from the ceiling is supposed to represent the artist himself, and the woman represents his lover Nita, who’s family forbid them from marrying each other. The nightmarish feeling of the work; how the beautiful and innocent is contrasted by the macabre. The innocence of the approaching suitors, the beauty and humorous absurdness of the dancing lady. The onlookers and party guests, entranced by the scene. And how Dardel still chose to depict Nita as lighting up the room, even in the middle of this morbid scene. (@the-crows-are-after-me)

(The full "Oath of the Horattii" painting is an oil on canvas done by Jacques-Louis David. The entire work measures 329.8 cm × 424.8 cm (129.8 in × 167.2 in) and is held by the Louvre.

"Visit hos Excentrisk Dam (Visit to an Eccentric Lady)" is an oil on canvas painting by Swedish artist Nils Dardel. It measures 130.5 × 97.5 cm (51.4 ×38.4 in) and is held by the Moderna Museet.)

[monstraduplicia]

daddy's little girl he broke in thirty: a dean winchester mix

1. abuse me - silverchair 2. adam raised a cain - bruce springsteen 3. alcohol - sisyphus 4. alibis - marianas trench 5. animals - nickelback 6. anyone who knows what love is (will understand) - irma thomas 7. black-eyed - placebo 8. blown wide open - big wreck 9. blunt force concussion - the dirty nil 10. break me - mcfly 11. burn & shine - the posies 12. call of the playground - shudder to think 13. carry that weight - the beatles 14. christian brothers - heatmiser, elliott smith 15. colossus - idles 16. coward's son - the ballroom thieves 17. daddy - korn 18. daddy's daughter - merricat crellin 19. damage control - the dirty nil 20. degenerate - the jesus and the mary chain 21. the devil you know (god is a man) - face to face 22. discipline - nine inch nails 23. don't let the sun catch you cryin' - jeff buckley 24. the drowners - suede 25. father - the front bottoms 26. father and son - cat stevens 27. father figure - george michael 28. father of mine - everclear 29. feel the pain - dinosaur jr 30. fiddle about - the who 31. forgiven - alanis morissette 32. fortunate son - creedence clearwater revival 33. freak - silverchair 34. friends in the sky - the dirty nil 35. fuckin' up young - the dirty nil 36. ghost - sky ferreira 37. girls - the dare 38. good boy - patriarchy 39. hang yer moon - the dirty nil 40. hard times - ethel cain 41. he needs me - shelley duvall 42. i burn - toadies 43. i know it's over - the smiths 44. i'm with you - avril lavigne 45. i need somebody - the stooges 46. infra-red - placebo 47. i woke up in a strange place - jeff buckley 48. judge yr'self - manic street preachers 49. last night i dreamt that somebody loved me - the smiths 50. life becoming a landslide - manic street preachers 51. lightsabre cocksucking blues - mclusky 52. loverboy - you me at six 53. low self opinion - rollins band 54. monster side - addict 55. moodswing whiskey - jeff buckley 56. mr. self destruct - nine inch nails 57. nancy boy - placebo 58. o death - rhiannon giddens, francesco turris 59. oh comely - neutral milk hotel 60. pain - four star mary 61. papa was a rodeo - the magnetic fields 62. please hurt me - the crystals 63. please please please let me get what i want - the smiths 64. prayer - big wreck 65. pretension//repulsion - manic street preachers 66. renegade - styx 67. runnin' with the devil - van halen 68. samarians - idles 69. send the pain below - chevelle 70. sex and violence - the exploited 71. the shining - badly drawn boy 72. simple man - deftones 73. slab - silverchair 74. song against sex - neutral milk hotel 75. story of isaac - leonard cohen 76. (they long to be) close to you - carpenters 77. thoroughfare - ethel cain 78. a trophy fathers trophy son - sleeping with sirens 79. two-headed boy - neutral milk hotel 80. two-headed boy pt. 2 - neutral milk hotel 81. unloveable - the smiths 82. wanted man - ratt 83. the weight - the band 84. western nights - ethel cain 85. what will you say - jeff buckley 86. whipping post - allman brothers band 87. you are a runner and i am my father's son - wolf parade 88. you can't always get what you want - the rolling stones 89. your flesh is so nice - jeff buckley 90. youth gone wild - skid row

[bluedalahorse]

Help Blue with her writing warm-ups!

I’m trying to finish Heart and Homeland right now, and it can be hard to get in the zone. Something I miss from grad school residency is doing warm-ups for my writing. So I am thinking I might do timed ten-minute warm-ups responding to a prompt before I launch into my H and H writing sessions each day, just to change up how I’m doing things.

But… I need your help! Here’s what I need you to do to send me a prompt.

Send me an ask with a Young Royals character and 2-3 backup characters:

Simon | Wilhelm | Sara | August | Felice | Maddie | Fredrika | Stella | Vincent | Nils | Walter & Henry | Alexander | Rosh | Ayub | Kristina

Then send me an ask with a Major Arcana tarot card and 2-3 backup tarot cards:

The Fool | The Magician | The High Priestess | The Empress | The Emperor | The Hierophant | The Lovers | The Chariot | Strength | The Hermit | Wheel of Fortune | Justice | The Hanged Man | Death | Temperance | The Devil | The Tower | The Star | The Moon | The Sun | Judgement | The World

I will use your prompt as a writing warm-up and write in response to it for ten minutes. Later I will post whatever I come up with. It may be crackfic. It may be heartfelt poetry. It might just be a few sentences or lines of dialogue. Who knows what I will come up with!

A few final notes:

I plan to use every character and every Major Arcana card once. If your first choice has already been written about, I’ll go with one of your backups.

If you pick Wilhelm or Simon as your first choice, you are not allowed to choose the other one as one of your backup characters. Sorry, friends, they’re just too popular!

Walter and Henry are together for now because I don’t feel confident enough to write them separately and I think I would have more fun writing them together first. That may change in the future.

I’ll try to get to the first five requests at least, over a series of days, but I can’t promise much after that. I’ll tag you/answer your ask when it comes though.

I reserve the right to respond to prompts in unconventional ways.

If you want to create your own ask game where people make warm up prompts for you, do it! Join meeeee. You do not have to use tarot cards, you can use paint chips or song lyrics or whatever. Writing is always best when done in community.

Have a wonderful Tuesday, everyone! 💜🌻

[royalsandchill]

Come on, really?

He gave out the Walter Payton Man of the Year Award, which, for those who may not know, is given out to a player that has a commitment to a philanthropy and community impact, as well as his excellence on the field.

They better not have given him this chance because of his "commitment to philanthropy and community impact." Because if we're all being real, neither one of those things applies to him much anymore. He doesn't have any real commitment to philanthropy beyond a half-assed foundation and a couple remaining personal patronages that he's barely hanging onto. And his community impact is almost nil.

I don't want to be a gatekeeper, because even the most unassuming people watch football. But he probably doesn't even watch American football.

And I could forgive it if he was a real athlete, not an occasional polo player, from somewhere outside the U.S. or he was a regular sports commentator.

No, he's a dumbass prince that falls ass backwards into things like this.

Glad the season's over. My team didn't make to the Bowl, so I won't be watching. This isn't going to live in my head rent free once I'm done with this post. But it would have made watching anything else less enjoyable because I'd remember that for some unknown reason, the NFL decided it was a good idea to have this British ass hat present an award.