#this is not proofread

[kaisentine]

this tiktok video made me unwell.

“itoshi, did you see my—“ “. . . oh.”

that was probably the first and last time you will ever see itoshi sae almost shirtless—alive, at least. he’s quick to react, dropping the hem of his shirt and ultimately covering his back again. God his back muscles . . . his back muscles were . . . “ever learn how to fucking knock?”

you weren’t really anything to him. maybe a friend of a friend but not someone who should even be seeing a slither of his back underneath his shirt, especially not in a freaking house party one of his teammates probably forced him into coming.

“shit—fuck, sorry!” you shout over the blasting music but all you can really focus on is the blaring sound of impending death. wasting no more than a millisecond longer, you slam the door shut like how it was in the beginning and start booking it downstairs and back to where your friends were. guess you wouldn’t be getting your power bank anytime soon—if ever.

you aren’t anything to him. not someone who should even be seeing a slither of his back underneath his sure—certainly not fully underneath his shirt.

aaaaaaaand, he’s shirtless. obviously, you covered your eyes the moment he even started talking and the only reason you knew his shirt was off was because of the soft thud that hit the ground when he dropped his shirt on the floor. “why are you taking off your shirt!?” you screech, facing away from this monster. when he doesn’t respond, you just fill the silence with your own complaints.

“are you not shameless?” “i don’t think strangers should be doing this!” “am i gonna go through the cracks of this floor and straight into lava?” “is this legal?” “should i be concerned?” “i’m really concerned.” “can you just put your shirt back on?” “this is gonna ruin my reputation!” “you better not tell anyone!”

“all i hear is a lot of bullshit—do you ever shut the fuck up?” he isn’t amused after your 63rd ramble about why he shouldn’t be doing this in the first place. “you haven’t turned around once.” he says as he rolls his eyes in annoyance—what the fuck is he talking about—why the fuck is he doing this? it’s going to make you dizzy!

“why should i?!” you angrily sulk in your position. “because you didn’t see it.”

didn’t see what? him shirtless, of course!

there’s a scarily eery presence standing behind you and you don’t want to turn around—nor should you anyway. “can you just look?” he’s spinning you around with your eyes still covered, mind you. “we don’t know each other!” you protest but it’s no use when his hands grip your wrist. “thought i’d give you the chance to see it fully before you die.”

“you two know each other?” oliver aiku questions.

“. . . no.”

wait . . . you forgot your power bank.

sticky note. whats with me and this concept . . . i’ll dig my own grave, thanks . . .

[sukunasbow]

using a pink ribbon to bind readers hands with galinda for the first time:

bondage with galinda ; mdni

“are they too tight, darling?” the blonde’s gaze glances at the pink ribbons keeping your wrists tied to the bedposts. you’re lying down on the bed with raised arms and nothing on, giving her the perfect view of your body.

“a little.” you huff. “this is so unfair, i just wanna touch you.”

“you should’ve thought about that before i caught you flirting with fiyero in class.”

“for the millionth time, i swear to the wizard that i wasn’t flirting! he just wanted help with the paper we were working on.” you look up at galinda with furrowed eyebrows as she stands at the end of the bed, slowly starting to remove her pink babydoll dress, leaving her in nothing but thin lace panties that match the colour of the dress. your gaze looks up and down at her body, practically eye fucking her. “please, baby. i’ll make you feel so good.” you whisper, “promise.”

galinda gives you a mocking pout, shaking her head gently. “no touching, only looking. i’m teaching you a lesson…” she brings her hands up to her tits, sensually squeezing the soft and plush flesh. “if you want to keep touching me.” she pauses for a moment to pinch her own nipples, letting out an exaggerated moan to tease you. “then next time fiyero tries to sneakily flirt with you by requesting help for work he’s typically perfect at completing, i expect you to turn him down.” galinda rolls her eyes back as she continues fondling her own breasts.

“i will, i promise.” you lick your bottom lip and watch her with hazy eyes. “just please, come on.” your eyes drift down to stare at the slight peek of her cunt through the see through panties. you feel yourself instantly get wetter, your clit throbbing with need, begging for attention. galinda’s lips slowly firm into a smirk, knowing exactly what you’re feeling. she pulls down her panties and before you can get a long look, she climbs onto the bed and straddles your hips. she sits herself down on you and you let out a small whimper at the feeling of her own wet cunt rubbing against yours. “galinda, i’ll do whatever you ask, just..” before you can continue begging, you’re cut off with intense pleasure as she rocks her hips back and forth, your clits bumping together with every movement. “fuck, yes, keep going..’ss good.”

“hmm, that feels good, sweetheart?” she coos, looking down at your with her big doe eyes.

“yes, yes.” you eagerly moan out. your lips part to say something else, however, your clit aches when she suddenly climbs off of you and walks to your shared dorm room dresser. you move to try and and reach out for her, but you’re immediately pulled back by the ribbon. “fuck!” you raise your voice in frustration. you shift your head to the side and try and bite at the knots, attempting to free yourself.

“no, no.” galinda hurries back to the bed, carefully moving your head back to face her. “patience.” you bite your lip in anger, desperation filling your mind, wanting nothing but to touch every inch of her soft body. your girlfriend climbs back into the bed, sitting down in between your spread things, giving her the perfect view of your pussy. “i’ve been wanting to try this out.” she grins and shows you a glittery pink vibrator that you bought for the two of you months ago. you jokingly bought it, as it screamed her with the colour as soon as you saw it.

“galinda, i’m sorry, baby. i jus’ wanna touch you.” you whine.

galinda ignores your pleas and presses the vibrator to your clit. a low buzzing sound echoes throughout the room. your eyes flutter shut at the immediate pleasure and your hips buck at the sensation. “i wonder what this button does.” she feigns innocence, clicking the button on the toy and increasing the vibrator power to the maximum.

“oh my, fuck! galinda, ‘ss too much!” your hands twitch in the ribbons and your legs shake. the vibrations jolt on your clit and you can feel them in your core, sending shivers up your spine. “please.” you moan out.

“i think you can take it, hm?”

your mouth falls open and saliva pools at the corner of your mouth. “galinda..” you mutter out. she spreads her legs slightly and brings her free hand down to her pussy, slowly starting to move two fingers along her clit, getting herself off as she watches you come undone under the vibrator. “i can take care of that for you.” you’re barely able to finish your sentence, overcome by your own pleasure. your moans get louder as she shakes her head and presses the vibrator down onto your pussy even harder. “fuck!” you cry out. tears fill up your eyes as you feel yourself come undone, your clit throbbing while your pussy gushes out cum, painting the bedsheets below you.

“so pretty.” galinda breathes out, continuing to rub at her clit while staring at the sight of your leaking pussy. “did so good for me, honey.”

your chest heaves as you recover from your orgasm. “i did good?” you pause, “then let me touch you, please. i know you need me to help you out.” ever since the two of you got together, galinda constantly mentions her struggles to get off without your hands or without your help.

she contemplates for a second, her hips bucking towards you as the pads of her fingers speed up on her clit. “promise you won’t flirt with him again?”

despite knowing you weren’t flirting with the prince, you’re desperate to touch her and avoid facing even more punishment for arguing about the topic. “i promise.” she hurriedly nods and rushes to untie you.

“come here, then.” she gasps, waiting for you to dive between her spread legs.

[a-star-is-here]

Jayvik is an example of fate v free will

They were both meant to die but these (gay) mfers refuse to let go of one another and death always finds them eventually. Viktor is repeatedly killed and revived against his will and each outcome is worse than the last.

Jayce was meant to die as a child in that snowstorm but was saved by viktor, who could’ve chosen not to save him to break the loop, but ultimately did. Jayce goes on to almost being killed by the missile but only survived because of mel’s ARCANE MAGIC. He is hexcorized later on and infected by the anomaly which many have pointed out meant the man was dying already anyways, or would transform into smth like viktor.

Death keeps running after the two, but is it because that fate wants them to die or is it a result of their own choices of not being able to let go of each other, ultimately resulting in their ambiguous fate?

[teddybeartoji]

imagine laying on top of toji while he's watching some lame sports match or show like an old man and rubbing the stubble forming on his jaw with your hand. he got lazy to shave for one day and it's already like this so ofc you'll get curious!! and it's very relaxing to bother him when there's nothing to do...

"have you ever tried growing a beard out?" and then he'll just answer you with a grunt. something special about him being an old grump i'm going to bite him

NONNIEEEE!!!! TOJI THE OLD MAN TOJI THE GRUMP MY BELOVED!!!!!!! btw i loooooove toji and his stupid old man shows – top gear, two and a half men, prison break, the mentalist (???) etc etc. and aside from the various sports matches, he also loves to watch wwe lmao.

toji absolutely adores when you "annoy" him. his one hand is resting under his head while the other holds the tv remote, and he is doing his Best to not look at you. you look like a pup, staring at him with curious eyes. the prickly feeling of his stubble is making your nose scrunch up every so often and thinks you're just so cute like this. he just grumbles at your questions but you don't mind. you refuse to stop pestering him.

you're tracing your fingers over his earlobes asking whether he'd ever get a piercing; you gently pull at his cheeks, so he's making a funny face and it's so entertaining. you're quite literally using him as a stim toy.

you press an open-mouthed kiss to the junction of his neck and he groans at your antics. but. he cannot hide the smirk that's stretching onto his lips. he drops the remote and moves to squish your cheeks instead. "y'r ridiculous."

"yaluvit." your words are coming out all slurred, his hold on you making it hard to speak properly.

he hums and you feel his whole body vibrate. you melt even further into him. the laugh track plays in the background and he takes his hand from your face. you pucker your lips at him, asking for a kiss with a big grin. but you're just met with a palm against your mouth and now it's your turn to grumble at him.

he's already so smug, proud to be pestering you back. but not for long. because when your warm, wet tongue slides against his palm, he's actually Yelping out. and you use the moment to grab his wrist and stop him from pulling away. sinking your teeth into the side of his hand, he stares at you amusedly.

"are ya a dog?"

"maybe."

there are teeth marks in his skin when you finally let him go and he doesn't waste a second to pinch your side. "behave."

"whatever." you mutter back, your attention back on his cactus-like chin. your soft fingers trail over his skin and he kind of hates to admit that he wants to kiss you stupid right now.

[salmoninzeeweed]

Thinking about klance sitting in bed together, just quietly enjoying each other's presence. Lance is braiding Keith's hair, it had gotten so long since the war ended. He always used to make fun of that mullet of his, but something only hunk will ever know is how he longed to run his hands through Keith's hair ever since the first time he saw him.

It was weird to be back on earth, to not be fighting in a war and being able to wake up without alarms blaring for you to go out and fight a battle you're way too young for. Lance always imagined he would be a pilot forever, but guilt for leaving his family was keeping him from leaving them again.

Keith is leaving for the blade tomorrow, and Lance will sit in the house alone, because what purpose does he have now that he's no longer fighting in a war? But then what is he without keith? His keith, his better half.

Ever since blue left, he's been stuck in an endless loop of feelings he doesn't understand, but being with Keith makes it better, it takes those feelings away. So why won't his brain let him go with Keith to space? It's his duty to help people, why can't he do what he's supposed to do?

But in these moments, where they're sitting together in bed, hands carefully brushing through long black locks of hair, nothing really matters. All that matters is that he has Keith right now, and that he will always come back to him, they promised each other that.

Lance and keith, neck and neck, hand in hand, forever together.

(Help this was just supposed to be like a sentence long idk wtf happened save me, I'M SUPPOSED TO BE SILLY I POST SILLY STUFF AAA???)

[nightsfeelheavenly]

entertaining myself with the idea of poly!141. price brings his equestrian wife around (who is aware of the arrangement) for her to play with the boys a bit. slow introductions to new dynamics.

is immediately surprised by how quickly she takes a leading role with the group, getting them wrapped around her pretty little fingers in no time. he’d said in the car, “no pressure for tonight. they can get a little rowdy and don’t tend to listen well.”

she’d laughed and replied “honey, i control half ton animals with my legs and weight. your bunch will be no problem.”

he’d chuckled, chalking it up to overconfidence, but no. she hooks her heel onto johnny’s hip and gives him a faint push whenever he’s being too overeager, collecting him back up into a better pace. gaz is praised with a caress to his jaw and then down his chest. ghost, even, gets encouraged forward with some light taps and a verbal cue.

he sits back and watches his wife put 141 in line and quickly comes to the conclusion that he’ll need her expertise and sway more often. after all, what better incentive (and reward) than some work with his wife post-mission?

[deathshallbethelastenemy]

what you see, i see (1)

TEEN!gojo x FEM!reader (soulmate AU)

TW⚠️: teenage gojo is mean, angst, mentions of death

This is a repost in regular font bc people couldn't read the first! There are some changes but they are very minor.

Whenever she closed her eyes she would see where he would go, and see everything he would see, and if she focused she could hear his conversations, and yet only the voices were ever clear while everything in his line of sight was always obscured, tinted dark. Her soulmate was never not wearing sunglasses, but it did nothing to shield her from the horrors he witnessed everyday.

She didn't know what they were- monsters, creatures, or curses (curses is what he called those things) that he saw on the daily basis. She used to worry about him. She would spend sleepless nights wondering if he was okay, but now, she resented him for it. Her mundane life that was full of ordinary things had been turned into an inescapable nightmare.

She could not see those creatures with her own eyes, even when she concentrated on her surroundings. The city was noisy and loud but never terrifying with monsters lurking around every corner and alleyway, but then, she'd close her eyes. Not intentionally, never intentionally anymore, and see a world hidden within her own.

His world. He was unafraid of it and she was deeply afraid of it - the abandoned buildings, the dark alleyways, fighting, blood, ichor, and death; she frightened of it all. She supposed he was brave for being able to face those horrors at all. She knew she could never be able too.

Her world, she wondered, if he thought it was boring, or if it brought him some sort of comfort seeing her life be so normal. A regular routine of school, friends, homework, exams, watching television, going to the library, internet browsing, running errands for her parents bakery, and coffee shops.

No, Gojo Satoru, did not find her world comforting. He did, indeed, find it to be incredibly boring. He was matched with a weak soulmate that couldn't even see curses, much less defend herself against them. How tiring his life would become if he ever met her - always having to save her because she was just so weak. So he never paid her any mind after he realized that. Never searched for her, never even let the thought of her linger for too long on his mind. A weakling like her doesn't have the right to have any of his attention.

Geto Suguru would call him a pompous and narcissistic jerk for not seeking her out, for belittling her, especially when she was right here in Tokyo.

"It's an honor, Satoru," Suguru would tell him, "fate trusts you to keep her safe from harm."

Everytime Satoru would simply fake vomit at his best friends sentiments.

"Do you know how many sorcerers wish for a soulmate?" Suguru would say, "and you're just not going to bother."

"Jealous," Satoru would smirk, "or lonely? You can have her."

She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but she was glad she had. She did her best to keep her eyes open after that conversation. If she wasn't worth his time, then Gojo Satoru wasn't worth hers either. Instead, she buried herself in school work, in running for class president, in multiple clubs, and volunteering in shelters, and cleaning up trash in public spaces. Her school transcript would be so stellar, so perfect she would be able to go to college abroad.a place so far away that the chance of ever running into him would be next to impossible.

It was a late night for her again and this time, she blamed her soulmate. She didn't care that he had made a building collapse in itself two days ago, or that middle schoolers were fawning over Satoru as they, clearly, didn't know he was rotten on the inside, and she, absolutely, did not care that he was having a fun beach day. She cared that he hadn't slept in three days, and now, she was a victim of his insomnia.

Why couldn't he go to sleep already? She was tired of closing her eyes seeing common beige hotel walls as he remained ever vigilant on his surroundings. She was seeing too much and nothing, all at the same time; it was exhausting. She didn't know when she fell asleep, but she did, still she didn't dream. All she could see was a dimly lit hotel room and a brief darkness everytime he blinked.

It was a miracle she woke up on time for school in the morning. Her eyes were heavy and it was a struggle to focus on any of her lectures but she refused to rest her eyes. Her stupid soulmate would not get any reprieve from her. Not when she was deprived of basic rest last night.

Of course, she would naturally blink only to see him cheerfully chatting on a plane. Whatever, her class was far more important. Anything in her life was far more important than he ever could be.

She tilted her head up to look up at the clock.

15:00:00

Class was almost over.

She blinked.

Satoru was complaining about having to take care of a 'brat'. She rolled her eyes and focused on the chalkboard at the front of the class.

15:02:08

She blinked again.

Blue had overtaken her vision as it pulled cobblestones and buildings into the vibrant cool hued color - forcing the buildings to collapse in on themselves as nothing but ruin was left around Satoru.

She opened her eyes. It didn't matter, she knew one thing about him for sure, he never loses.

15:02:15

She stilled. A dark chill consumed her as her body began to become numb. She continued to copy down notes from the chalkboard but she couldn't feel the pen in her palm. She dug her nails into her palm next and still, she felt nothing.

Her eyes widened. Death, this was how she imagined death would feel like. A silent sob went raked through her body - she hadn't noticed it before, how her heartbeat had been mirroring Satoru's until now. An aching emptiness filled her like a part of her had been ripped from her.

She covered her mouth in an effort to stop her cries. Her vision blurred with tears and one right after the other, they fell, seeping into her notebook and smudging the black ink.

Could Satoru see her now in his final moments? She sucked in a harsh breath. What about the girl he was protecting? She had only seen her briefly but she needed protection, did she not? That's why he was there to keep the girl safe.

"______" someone was saying her name, and then, a soft, gentle shake, "______, what's wrong? What happened?

Soulmates were so rare, so so so rare most people didn't believe in them. They would call her crazy, a liar, an attention seeking romantic, so she forced herself to wipe the tears from her cheeks, and said: "My mother just texted me," she hiccupped, "my grandmother died." She turned to face the teacher, "I'm sorry for disrupting class."

Then, the bell rang - loud and piercing, and the day had continued onward as if nothing had happened. As if her world hadn't just been turned upside down, as if the cold, icy grip of death wasn't looming over her - watching her every move, until the grim reaper, finally deemed to snuff her out one day as well.

A hot summer day and she was shivering cold.

Part 2: where you go, i go

Part 3: you know i adore

Part 4: i'm crazier for you

Part 5: baby, you're the life of the party

Part 6: something's made your eyes go cold

[lotus-slumbers]

Day One of Yandere Monsters and Myths! For October 2024 (1/?)

Content Warnings: stalking mostly and death of a loved one. Apply general yandere warnings.

A mimic that has had its eyes on you for weeks, ever since you and your lover had walked in the woods after sundown. Following you home, it’s stalked you by hovering by windows and prowling outside, waiting and listening through the night. 

They’ve entered your life the only way they know how to— by stealing the face of your lover,  having painstakingly memorized every detail of their body in the same way they wish to do to yours as soon as they have the chance. Up close and personal, inside and out with no pleasantries to spare. 

Every scar and blemish on their skin that they watched you trace over, making constellations and kissing? In envy, they’re still there. The way your lover's hair had sat and their teeth? Perfect in placement. Everything seemed that way, down to the curve of their fingers from years of holding pens and pencils. 

But those eyes that you once treasured so dearly— a gateway to the soul, so intimate, they'd remind you when leaning in close to see yours— just aren't the same. It's hard to place at first. Something is just off. Maybe they're sick, you think. Maybe unhappy? Depressed? 

And they're so frustrated that they're almost furious. At first, it was wonderful. They thought that they had come up with the perfect disguise to invade your life with but you kept asking if they felt okay.  Do they look sick and unhappy to you? Let them make it up to you and show you that they're not. They'll try harder to make the eyes they stole glimmer and shine the same way that you praised your original lover. 

They show you incredible agility and stamina, believing that it would prove just how un-sick they were because humans who were sick couldn’t do these things. However, these things are all borderline inhuman. It’s startling, it scares you so much you try to force them to stop, and finally, the words you’ve been looking for form. You realize what’s wrong with their eyes. 

“The white of your eyes has been pinkish-red for weeks now!” 

Almost like they had been crying, constantly. You’d thought at first they had been and didn’t want to confess it to you but they couldn’t possibly be crying that much. You think it must be a warning sign of an illness and they need to see a doctor. That’s reasonable, with their recent attitude shift but you don’t get to say that. 

For the first time, they don't have some reassurance to sing or a defense to play. Their face drops and they smile something sinister. 

Perhaps they’d gotten a little distracted in their excitement to get to you but who could blame them? Really, it was your former lovers fault for being such a crybaby and a coward in the face of death. 

No reason to hide anymore, right? If you're this perceptive, you'd figure them out soon enough. At least this way they could show you the full extent of how excellent they could truly be for you, all while finally getting rid of the last shred of that former, pitiful person you used to love. 

You should only ever have eyes for them now.

[fritzes]

rg draw, here we go:

wta:

thing are looking pretty good for iga. ostapenko is not in her quarter which is always a relief, and her projected qf opponent is marketa, who obviously has a great history at rg but has been really inconsistent lately. if she’s on top of her game she could be a threat, but that’s a big if. I think the more likely quarterfinalist is danielle, and I don’t think she can challenge iga on clay. marta kostyuk is also lurking in this quarter and could do some damage if she’s playing well, but again, is that good enough to beat iga at rg? probably not. iga could play naomi second round, and while that wouldn’t really be competitive, it could be nice to see!

across the draw, coco also has a pretty decent path to the semis but unlike iga, she isn’t rock-solid at rg and if she double faults the way she’s been doing the last few months, that’s gonna be a huge problem. she could play haddad maia in the round of 16, a semifinalist from last year. but haddad maia is super streaky and upset-prone, so it’s debatable whether she’ll get there. in the bottom half of this quarter is ons, who’s been having a really terrible season. I would love to see her make a deep run, but I could see her losing to ostapenko or garcia in the round of 16 if not earlier. in the quarterfinals, either of the two mentioned above could make things difficult for coco, especially if ostapenko is at the rg level we all know she’s capable of

if the projected semifinal does happen, it’s probably gonna be a repeat of the 2022 final if not worse. coco just doesn’t have a chance against iga on clay, and especially not at rg

I think the third quarter is gonna be pretty crazy. elena’s health has been in question lately and her recent slam results haven’t been great. of course, at any given moment she could play like the best in the world, so who knows. I could see elina or nastia being quarterfinalists here. elena is capable of beating both of them, but on clay I think they’re both capable of beating her. at the other end of this quarter is qinwen, who’s results since the ao haven’t been great. I don’t think she’s very comfortable on clay, and I would predict jasmine or kalinskaya as quarterfinalists over her. also, bianca andreescu is apparently back and in this quarter, so it will be interesting to see how she does

I would be really surprised if aryna doesn’t make the semifinals. her potential early seeded are boulter, navarro, and keys, none of whom are clay players. there’s also the potential of playing paula again, but paula would have to get there and if she does, aryna is the heavy favorite. I really don’t know who the other quarterfinalist will be. I’d love to have confidence in maria, but noskova and especially dasha could be threats. still, there’s no one aryna can’t beat in this quarter

if the projected semifinal for this half happens, I would majorly favor aryna. she just beat elena in madrid, and she’s way more comfortable on slow clay

interesting r1 matches: bronzetti/osaka, yastremska/tomljanovic, ostapenko/cristian, andreescu/sorribes tormo, azarenka/podoroska, boulter/badosa

atp:

people like to say that novak saves his best tennis for slams, that his recent slump will come to an end here. I’m not so sure about that. in his path to the quarterfinals he’s got potential musetti and cerundolo, both good rg players. even tommy paul could trouble him. and, if he has his usual thing of playing his way into form with tough early matches, he’s going to be exhausted if he does make qfs and plays rg specialist casper ruud. mensik is an early hurdle, but I really don’t think casper has a difficult draw at all. taylor in the round of 16 should be easy on clay, and his confidence against novak is at an all time high after monte carlo. if there was ever a time to get revenge for last year’s final, it’s now

the second quarter… I can’t believe this is real. rafa vs zverev in the first round. unfortunately zverev is the favorite to win, but it is rafa at rg. you never know. even with that aside, this quarter is crazy. holger is always a wild card at rg, and he is definitely capable of taking out zverev to make the qfs. and on the other end is the hard court specialist himself, daniil medvedev. this is honestly the best draw he could ask for, with bublik and de minaur as predicted seeds. I don’t think he could beat holger at rg, but I do think he could do what he’s been doing for so very long and beat zverev

I have very little faith in the projected semifinal actually happening. maybe one will get there, but I doubt both will

to the much more pleasant half of the draw, carlos has a decent path to the qfs. his projected early opponents, draper and korda, are both ridiculously inconsistent and not great on clay. ben or felix in the round of 16 shouldn’t be an issue either. on the other hand, the other potential quarterfinalists have a terrible draw with a ton of french people and of course each other: andrey and stefanos. will andrey’s few tools beat him again? I’m not sure. stefanos is great at rg and I think he can beat andrey, but his record against carlos is abysmal. stefanos has a better chance in the round of 16, but andrey has a better chance in the qf

jannik couldn’t have asked for a better draw, and if he’s healthy I think he can really go far here. baez isn’t a challenger to him and jarry is super inconsistent which jannik can take advantage of. the projected quarterfinalist is hubi, but I think it’s more likely to be grigor considering how much hubi relies on his serve. also, after the week he had in rome, maybe tabilo could make a deep run as well, who knows

words cannot express how much I want this projected semifinal to happen. and if it does, I think I would have to pick carlos to win because he’s jus that much more comfortable on clay. then again, jannik did beat carlos in the umag final, so you never know

interesting r1 matches: fritz/coria, etcheverry/cazaux, ruud/mensik, zverev/nadal, navone/carreño busta, arnaldi/fils, wawrinka/murray (I can’t believe this is real)

[namelessmisfortune]

Pressure Blurb yaaayyy :333

(572 words, more under the cut)

39, 40, 41, 42… You’d have long lost count by now if the path before you weren’t numbered. The lights flicker and flash above you, a warning being the most mercy you’ll get. Forgive them, they’re only animals.

The rumbling starts some rooms behind you and gets closer, closer. Panic plants a seed in your chest and grows worse as there’s nowhere to hide in your current position. You’re forced to run to the next room, slamming yourself into the first locker you set eyes upon. Barely in time before the rumbling grew into roaring. Looking out from the gap between the locker’s doors, you see a flash of beady eyes and needle-sharp teeth pass you by. For a moment the roaring becomes deafening and your world shakes around you. Your world. Your reality. Your reminder that it’s all real. Things you never thought possible, things you never thought a person could bring themself to create or contribute to. It was all laid here in front of you, seeming almost vulnerable in its current state of ruin. And you were expected to die for its sake.

You were lost enough in your thoughts that only your heart pounding from being shut in the locker too long could bring you out of your daze. Shoving the doors open and forcing yourself out, your heart still pounds in your ears. With trembling hands you turn on your flashlight to light the way ahead of you, since that monster had come through and broken all the lights. Your terrified mind almost entertains the idea of turning it off again. Why waste battery? Why look at the horrors before you when the dark could act as the wool you’d willingly pull over your eyes? But those thoughts die as quickly as they come. You can’t be a coward. You have to keep moving.

45, 46, 47, 48… The numbers go by uneventfully, the best you can really ask for. Though, the constant push forward still wears on your mind and body just the same. As much as you felt like collapsing, distant sounds from halls further away insist you stay on your toes.

49… The room is dark, red emergency lights dimly lighting the path. In stark contrast, a bright white floodlight shines down in the direction of an open vent. “Stranger, over here.” The voice beckoning you in -despite calling you ‘stranger’- is familiar. The Saboteur responsible for the ruins you’ve dredged through. You drag yourself through the vent, hoping for respite and maybe a couple batteries. “Welcome back, friend.” So that’s how it is, ‘friend’ and not ‘stranger’ anymore once you’d come in to potentially give him what he wants. The presence in the room with you raises a clawed hand to let his lure light illuminate the room. It was there in his own light that you could see him in full, a genetic amalgam of scales, fins and claws. He kept two hands clasped together while a third hung lower, fins on either side of his head twitching and flattening every so often, listening. The sight of such a creature had only gotten a little less jarring than before. Something about three eyes diligently trained on you still made your skin crawl, but it was better than being stuck with the numerous other threats lurking around. Relish the relative safety but don’t overstay your welcome. You’ll be back out there soon enough.

.

.

.

(Sorry for calling you a genetic mess pookie I’ll pay extra next time 😔)

[allyricas]

say don't go + steddie

angst with a happy ending

Why'd you have to lead me on? Why'd you have to twist the knife? Walk away and leave me bleedin'? Why'd you whisper in the dark? Just to leave me in the night? Now your silence has me screamin' I would stay forever if you say, "don't go," Why'd you have to Make me want you? Why'd you have to Give me nothin' back? Why'd you have to Make me love you? I said, "I love you" You say nothin' back

they start hooking up after the events of spring break without really discussing what it means. steve has convinced himself it's just physical, an experiment or some sort of outlet for everything they've been through. hell, steve isn't sure if he's actually into guys or if eddie's just an exception and he's not ready to think about it too deeply.

he knows it's different for eddie, but still chooses to ignore the way eddie gazes at him a little awestruck. ignores the way it feels when eddie kisses him back as if there is nothing else he'd rather do in the entire world than be there with steve.

and see, eddie is all the way in, fireworks and sparks flying, head over heels and has no clue steve thinks they're just two guys fooling around. he is aware that steve wants something casual and that his heart is going to get broken. but with every kiss, eddie is just falling harder and harder.

he can't help but love steve. it feels inevitable with every caress, feels like an impossible task to not want more with every kiss.

eddie realizes it's a shot in the dark, hopes that steve is falling too. that he's just scared of being in a relationship with a man. that maybe, for once, he will get his happily ever after.

maybe one day eddie will tell steve the truth of his feelings, that he's in love, that he wants to be with him outside of late night stolen moments...but the fear of losing him is too strong. being with him in any capacity is better than nothing right?

because that is the worst part of all of this. the way steve holds him as if he cares. the way he kisses eddie like a man starved, whispers his sweet nothings in the dark like his affection goes beyond something casual. only for it to mean nothing. because once the moment ends, he leaves. never stays entwined together through the night. eddie never gets to wake up in steve's arms. no soft touches, curled together, bathed in the golden light of the morning.

it all falls apart when eddie accidentally whispers the three words he didn't mean to say out loud. i love you. it's uttered religiously in a moment of ecstacy. the words slip out from somewhere deep inside the recesses of eddie's soul, spilling out as if he cannot keep this love a secret for a second longer.

it falls apart because steve says nothing. stares and stares. flinches when eddie tries to grasp his hand. simply shakes his head no, twists the knife a little deeper when he pulls on his shirt like he doesn't want eddie to even look at him. it's not fair the way steve's kiss once stopped time and now he won't even say a word. he begs him to say something.

steve... please, say don't go... ask me to stay... why'd you have to make me love you?

i think you need to go, eddie.

steve watches eddie's face fall, stone-faced as he stumbles out of bed and his life. never says a word even when a few weeks later eddie packs his stuff and leaves hawkins without a backward glance. and over the years, when eddie visits for graduations and weddings and the occasional holiday, steve still never says anything. never admits that he was wrong, that he loved eddie and was afraid. never says a word even when eddie falls in love with someone else. he nearly marries the sweet, pretty girl he meets in the city, only for the wedding to never happen without an explanation as to why.

steve never moves on. the only person who ever knows the truth is robin. she begs him so many times to tell eddie the truth. steve refuses, because he knows he was cruel. that he broke eddie's heart and he doesn't think he deserves a second chance. so he loves eddie from afar and doesn't realize that his love is never unreciprocated. neither realize the other is pining away, wishing for the chance to start over and be together.

as the years go by, they hesitantly become friends once more. there is still a tension that simmers between them. a certain electricity that's never faded. eddie visits for longer and longer at a time, because he's missed his family, both his uncle and the all these people he chose. he misses his home in a way he thought he never would.

things come together when steve finally says the words eddie's waited years to hear.

don't go. ed, please stay. i am so sorry i never told you, i'm sorry i hurt you. i love you so much, always have, always will.

i've always loved you steve. i'll stay.

for good?

forever.

[quibble-auk]

Dropmix trials.

Previous

@thebrokenmechanicalpencil

I know I promised fluff…. I still am working on the fluff. I just had to get this out there so I could think properly.

Sorry this is so short.

I was going to try and make it longer but it felt like I was kinda forcing it? Like man is low key dissociating right now and I feel like if I linger in his perspective too much it’ll be weird.

Dropmix’s thoughts on it all haha…

—

Smoke and dust stung his eyes. The world around him was chaos, screams and blaster fire echoing around the colosseum. The ground trembled and shook as structures fell. The sky was hidden under a thick layer of smog.

The pits had fallen.

Dropmix was pressed into the ground, a large boot on his back. The guardian had pinned him quickly, the world numbing pain of BCP in full effect and a blistering burning in his chest from where he had been shot. Energon was slick on his back, seeping into the ground beneath him. He still struggled against their hold. His claws restrained in cuffs and his head forced into the grime covered ground by a large hand. He bore his teeth at the guardian.

This is what he got for trying to attack their charge. Dropmix hadn’t meant to, not really. When he had fallen from the blaster fire erupting through his chest and Theremin had knelt above him his mind already descended into a panic. His Conjunx had collapsed next to him, hands pressing into the wound to stop the bleeding. When two large hands had pulled the medic away the gladiator wasn’t thinking clearly enough before he had reacted.

The guardian above him mercilessly drove their weight into him, it was getting harder to breathe.

Dropmix watched his Conjunx. A large mech spoke to him—his processor absently informed him of the name, Noxious. He could see the second guardian mech standing next to him, alertly looking for any other threats. Theremin looked horrified, but not afraid. The medic shook their head, backing up slightly. There was something nervous in his gaze as it flicked to Dropmix, pleading for help.

The gladiator groaned, shifting under the weight of the boot and straining against the programs that left his mind in a haze. He couldn’t understand what they were saying. He just needed to get Theremin away, he needed to be safe. He tried to pull away, to get closer. Dropmix had been so focused on getting away that he hadn’t even noticed that the blaster had been pulled out.

When he did, rage surged through him, surpassing the programs that tried to reel it in. He managed to get the boot off of him. Energon rushed through him and his spark beat drummed thunderously in his ears.

Theremin screamed.

No. It wasn’t Theremin. Theremin had been dead for a long time now. The scream wasn’t his. Just like how there was no crushing weight on his back or restraints digging into him.

Jeopardy screamed.

Dropmix moved.

Despite the programs that coursed through his body, numbing his mind and sending pulses of pain through his nerves, he lunged forward. Breathing was hard, his frame felt too hot, but he shoved Cometeater away regardless. The white medic cried out again as claws were uprooted and fangs harshly pried away. Dropmix snatched his broken frame and clung to it.

His arms moved before he could think about it, pulling the younger mech even closer to his chest. Every movement sent painful electrical waves through his heavy limbs. His vision swam as another onslaught of mind numbing codes washed over him, forcing him to comply. His armor suffocated him, heat trapped under the thick plating and making it even harder to cool himself off. None of it mattered.

Jeopardy was breathing in frantic gasps. Energon pooled from his chest, soft whines and pained whimpers escaped him. The medic looked up at Dropmix, wide eyes full of terror and pain. For a brief moment he flinched, eyes darting to the still form of Sunstreaker before returning to the large gladiator that held him.

Dropmix had almost lost him.

If it wasn’t for the programs that fought his anger and squandered his rage painfully he probably would have lost it by now. Instead all he could feel was blistering pain and an overwhelming amount of fear.

Dropmix had almost lost Jeopardy.

He held Jeopardy even tighter, refusing to let go. He could hear armor groaning under pressure. Slick energon spilling onto him. The smaller mech weakly pulled away as he winced. Dropmix held him closer, ignoring the way he squirmed.

Just like he had lost Theremin.

He couldn’t breathe.

Dropmix lunged forward, claws restrained but mouth opened and ready to sink his fangs into the opponent's neck. Into the fragger that dared to hurt what was his. Theremin was on the ground, gasping feebly for air as energon welled from his chest. Dropmix could see his spark, weakly pulsing, flickering. He shouldn’t have been able to see it. Maybe that was why he had faltered.

The second guardian intercepted his attack before he had the chance to kill the bastard that had done this. Their heavy hand crushed his face. A large palm shoved his helm away, fingers digging into his skull. Blinding pain erupted in his eye as the guardian carelessly thrust him into the ground with a sickening Crack!

He gasped for air as his remaining eye struggled to focus, looking blankly around for Theremin. The gladiator’s hand moved to his neck as Dropmix finally caught a glimpse of his Conjunx. He had stopped moving. His body slumped against the ground, discarded like some kind of broken toy. His eyes were empty and hollow, his chest no longer convulsed in desperate attempts to breathe.

Dropmix knew he should have felt something. Rage, pain, maybe even guilt. He didn’t. For the first time in his life, there was nothing, like he had been carved out. He felt just as empty as Theremin’s eyes were.

That was the last time he ever saw his Conjunx, broken and disgraced on the floor, drowning in a pool of his own energon.

The suffocating heat of his armor, the phantom sting of shattered optics—Dropmix blinked, and Theremin’s lifeless face was gone. In its place, Jeopardy was squirming in his arms, still alive, but struggling.

“Dropmix!” Sideswipe was holding a sobbing Cometeater in his lap, he was staring at Dropmix with confusion and panic. His shaky hands weekly rubbing circles into the smaller forms back. Cometeater tensed in his lap, still sobbing into his chest, and Sideswipe’s grip tightened protectively around him. His voice was commanding despite his confused expression, “Let him go.”

Dropmix looked down in his arms and almost choked. Jeopardy was feebly clawing to get away, his armor denting under the force of the gladiator’s hold. He was hurting him. His hands twitched. His grip slackened, but for a fraction of a second, he hesitated, fingers still curled against Jeopardy’s plating. Dropmix’s breath hitched as he flinched away, releasing his grip on the smaller medic.

Jeopardy scrambled away, moving to Sunstreaker’s side. He didn’t look back at Dropmix, his gaze fixated on the wounded mech beneath him. His hands flew into action, moving himself to avoid getting his own energon on the golden gladiator but still managing to press against the injury. Jeopardy’s plates shook violently, terror and pain still lingering but overridden by the need to help.

The large gladiator struggled to suck in a breath. His mind still reeling, struggling to grasp onto a coherent thought, programs and codes surging through his processor and dismantling anything before it could take hold. His body ached under the suffocation pressure of armor, too much armor, his plating rattled beneath it, trying desperately to flare out in an attempt to release the heat building in him.

Distantly, Dropmix was able to read the notification message—he was overheating, the armor was trapping the hot air his fans were struggling to circulate out of him. Dropmix still couldn’t move, pain rippling through him as the BCP forced his body to submit, brutally attacking the systems that struggled to activate.

He knew the music was still there. It had to be. Otherwise the BCP wouldn’t be active. Dropmix couldn’t hear it though. Not over the hissing of hot metal and his thundering sparkbeats.

Dropmix had hurt Jeopardy.

[trenchcoathunnybee08]

Let’s play a game called is this quality mine or the Wolverines?

Round 1) Person blames themself for something they had absolutely no control over and had no way of ever knowing would end the way it did. They did everything right with the information they had at the time but shit happened outside of their control.

Not hard enough?

Round 2) Person copes with their problems by holding everything in and shoving it down as deep as possible. They emotionally distance themselves from people they care about so they can’t see the pain they’re dealing with.

Round 3) Whenever someone tries to confide in them about their own problems they have no idea how to handle the situation because how the fuck do you comment on someone else’s issues when you don’t even understand your own?

And for the full cash prize…..

Round 4) Person puts on a false persona of confidence and toughness to hide the fact they carry unbelievable amounts of self hatred and doubt because they fear they may never live up to the preconceived persona others have created in their own minds of them.

Thanks for playing. You can collect your prize at the counter on your way out.

[iamademigodandwizard]

Had she really done that?

Bella pov ( and it’s 1977)

Cissy and I are shopping at diagon alley. We had just left Madam Malkins. Out of nowhere a little pink haired demon came running up and grabbed my leg.

“ Mummy” she said, “ I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

I don’t have a child, neither does Cissy. However Sirius said that Andy was pregnant 4 years ago, and I do look exactly like Andy. I picked up the pink haired demon. I told Cissy the plan and we moved. We walked around for about 20 minutes before I spotted a mess of curly black hair.

“Your mummy’s over there go run over to her,” I say. Then I witness a happy reunion between a mother and daughter.

Andy’s pov

My daughter ran at me and threw herself into my arms.

“Nymphadora,” I scold, “ where have you been?”

“ Sorry mummy,” she says, “I wanted to look at the pretty stuff in the shop windows.”

“ Never do that again, you had me scared to death”

Nymphadora then starts telling a story of how she ran into a woman’s arms, and the woman that helped her find me looked exactly like me. Slowly I lock eyes with my husband, the exact same thought crossing both of our minds. Had my sister really done that.

[tar-thelien]

Chapter ten; Looking For Light In The Darkness

Chapter notes:

Maglor greets the twins when returning to Amon Ereb in less than pleasant words but does offer to dry Elrond´s flowers before naming them

words: 1124

Maedhros made his way towards the stone where Elrond and Elros had spent the previous night, having just completed their breakfast. Impatience was evident as he beckoned the children over huffing at them in a rough voice, "come child, pick a few flowers and we will be on our way back."

His speech was clearly intended for Elrond who quickly scrambled off to the flowers he had seen the night before, with his brother in heel, and grabbed a handful of some carefully picked flowers, before they resumed their journey back.

-o0o-

Elros was staring at the ground beneath his feet, peeking at Maglor´s restlessly moving high heeled boots with the sharp toe tips, half covered by his gold rimmed blue underrobe, trying to imagine how tall the minstrel would be without them, as he kicked the small gravel beneath their feet around.

“I was worried!” Maglor´s clear voice cut through the air like knife as the elf showed his face into the two half elvers' faces, grabbing both of their chins to look them in his eyes with his too bright eyes glowing down at his own chin, illuminating his small amount of freckles as well as the little scar on the right side of his mouth that made him bare a constant grin.

“What were you thinking!? What if there had been an attack from Morgoth?? What if Nelyo hadn´t found you? What then?” the minstrel continued as he shook his head around, making the pendants at the end of his five braids ram together like swords on the battlefield, ignoring the way his brother flinched at the naming of the fallen Vala.

“Answer me!” Maglor yelled at them when he turned abruptly making both children cringe back, now with tears in their eyes.

“Oh children own,” Maglor moaned, “I did not mean to scare you, come you must be tired,” he said as he grabbed for them to draw them into a quick hug as he fell to his knees before rising again and taking both Elrond and Elros´s hands in his own as he walked into the fortress with them in tow muttering small words of comforts, leaving Maedhros for himself.

“What is that Hinye? Under your pillow?” Maglor asked as he yet again leaned in over the bed, to gently place his hand under Elrond´s pillow and pull through the little bundle of different flowers that had been hidden there, “do you want me to dry them for you so they never die and you can keep them for ages to come?” he asked when he sat up straight again, now with the flowers spread out before him on the bed, “I can tell you their names?”

Elrond quickly glanced over at Elros who had pushed his own blanket away as he was leaning towards the other two looking ready to attack if necessary, before giving a small timid nod, looking down at the flowers now before him.

“This,” Maglor said as he picked a metallic blue flower with a bowl like crown, “is a helleborus, they are usually mountain flowers, meaning that where you found them, someone has been planting them for a long long time ago.”

Looking up at the sound of shuffling Maglor saw that Elros had moved close with his blanket in tow and nodded self satisfied to himself to see the children both look up at him expecting more as Elrond let his hand slowly touch the Helleborus flower.

“Evening primrose,” he said as he picked up a melted butter color four petaled flower, “they bloom from spring to fall and can be used to aid healing and keeping healthy. Some of them even bloom at night.”

“Insil!” Maglor exclaimed happily seeing the white trumpet flower, “Erufana! Lilies as the Atan calls them. They are said to be Eru´s first gift to the Quende, it is said Manwe himself planted them all over his mountain, so as to be close to his father,” the minstrel snicked before grabbing towards the last of the flowers.

“Niphredil,” he said thoughtfully picking up the white five pateled flower, spinning it around in his fingers, “blooms mostly in the winter. It comes from Doriath so one can only imagine how it has ended up here.”

“Well, it is a miracle you didn´t fall upon any Pipeweed! No?” he cried happily as he shooed Elros over to his side of the bed under the blanket before giving both of them a kiss on the forehead, “now children dear, do you want me to dry them? I can take them with me now or I can lay them down here on the bed table and we can do it tomorrow together. Or something else.”

Looking nervous up at Maglor, Elrond only shrugged, both of the children waiting for their punishment for trying to escape from the kinslayers. Seeing the lack of responds Maglor sat the flowers down on the little table beside Elrond´s head when he stood up, “we can do it tomorrow, and maybe we can also go outside soon and see if we can find any lupines. They can be found outside Amon Ereb, blooming in spring to early summer, but sometimes a few parched ones will lay on the ground.”

-o0o-

The next morning everything was as it had been before as if the two Feanorian brothers had completely forgotten about the escape attempt. Maglor himself had merrily welcomed them and asked if Elrond had taken the flowers with him or if they should find them after Erestor had had lessons with them, Erestor himself after having heard his name and his job had scrolled angrily at Maglor over his oatmeal with jam, but not saying any words of objection.

Maglor himself had apparently sat open himself to brush Maedhros hair as he held the morning conversation with a brush in one hand and his brother's hair in the other while putting in comments in his rambling about how nice and soft ´Maitimo´s´ hair was, answered with small grunts from the red haired elf.

At a later time, when they asked Erestor about why Maglor had untied Maedhros' hair to brush and braid it differently than usual, Erestor explained that it was because it brought back memories of Maglor's mother who had been near to the second eldest.

That evening after a quiet dinner, since Maglor apparently had had to leave for a patrol and would be gone in two days, Elrond found some heavy books stacked on top of each other, on the floor beside their bed, with paper in between them, and moving them away he could see his flowers as well as other flowers which haven´t been there that morning, being compressed under them.

---

Helleborus (bloom in fall to spring), Evening primrose (bloom in spring to fall), lilies (Tolkien mentioned them a lot, which is why I like to think of them as Eru´s flowers as a joke, there where called Insil by the Noldor - bloom into fall) Niphredil (it means snowdrop in Sindarin, they come/grow in Doriath and later in Lorien - blooms in winter - I take liberties and make it bloom in fall too)

Remember privacy and boundaries are a thing, don´t be like Maglor! Also, remember to ask for permission before drying other people´s flowers! Yes, Elrond and Elros´s presence might have had something to do with the flowers, which Maglor has a small idea about which is also why he wants to take them out to the lupines, although they´re not currently blooming, so to see if the presence of the Peredhel´s will do anything to it Maglor is very obsessed with Maedhor´s hair at the end of the first age because it looks so much like Nerdanel´s and it´s a way for him to “escape reality”

Hinye = Baby: Quenya; Can also mean the tip of a finger or the pinky (see how sibling titles are usually also the name of fingers? I hope I´m not the only one finding that sweet and funny) - Maglor is trying to come up with as many pet names as possible to see which ones the twins react the best too and it ends just becoming a bad habit of throwing small words at them they don´t know what means most of the times Fana = White: Quenya; Usually used when talking about flowers, but can also mean cloud; it was used when talking about the white ships Quende = Elf: Quenya; Avarin are the elvers who stayed behind and the Eldar are the elvers who went to Valinor and saw the trees - and their descendants so Quende means all elvers, both Avari and Elda; Avarin is a Quenya word and means “unwilling" or "the Refusers” - you decide what to think of that… Atan = Men (as a race there is no gender over this word: Quenya