I Hate This Country More Than Myself But Watching Christian Pulisic’s Sexy Ass Put His Whole Soccerussy

“Put him on his knees give him something to believe in” has the exact same energy and depth of meaning as anything Hozier puts out on the regular but since it’s sung by Megan Thee Stallion no one takes it seriously. In this essay I will-

When cool people follow you so now youre mutuals and you’re trying to act cool like

ACCIDENTAL CONFESSIONS

smau ft eren jeager and armin arlert

- swearing, eren is a lil bitch-

EREN !

ARMIN !

- i’ve made levi as well, and i kinda wanna do jean. idk

and though i can’t recall your face, i still got love for you ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

megumi fushiguro x reader | wc: 0.9k | L’s FOLKLORE event

The last thing he wanted to do was agree to this mission. 

He tried nearly anything and everything to get out of it. Offered it up to Kugisaki (who’s been dying to get out of Japan for quite some time now), tried to fill his schedule with local tasks to feign busy, faked a head cold the day of his departing flight. Incredibly desperate, he even told Gojo he was thinking of quitting sorcery—his knowing guardian saw right through his fib, having raised him as the dedicated helper he is today. 

It was a long one, the longest one he’s been on, yet. Months and miles away from his home, where he’d have to leave you alone in a space the two of you were meant to share. 

But that’s what a sorcerer does, what they have to do. Megumi knows this, and he knows that you know this, too. However, that doesn’t make the situation at hand any easier. 

He hesitantly agreed to the mission after a lot of begging and pleading, not because he knew it was the right thing to do, but because of the promise the two held yourselves to. 

One call a day, no more and no less, to make time for you—to feel together, though apart.

And if there’s one thing Megumi’s good at, it’s keeping his word. 

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“what’s it like?”

oikawa turns to you at the sound of your question, “what’s what like?”

“what’s it like being in love?”

the boy quirks a brow, “what do you mean?”

“i mean,” you pause, shuffling from your place on the couch to face him. “what’s it like to give your all to a person? to have someone that loves you with all their being? what’s it like to have a bond and a connection that seems as if it would never break? or to have a person who’s poured their heart and soul into you? who would do anything to see you happy and make you feel loved?” you pause, meeting the boy’s gaze realizing you’ve been basically asking him the same question for the past three minutes. “i mean if you know about it, i know you’ve had your fair share of relationships.”

he bit back a chuckle at how small your voice became, “that’s a tough question for me to answer.”

“but you’re more experienced than i am with it,” you reason.

“why because i’ve been in more relationships?” 

”no because of the fangirls.”

and he laughs, “that’s adoration,” he notes. “adoration and love, while easily confused, are two different things.”

”alright then,” you wave off. “then tell me,” his gaze softens as he shuffles to face you. “what’s love like?”

“it’s,” he pauses, “it’s a feeling that you can’t really find anywhere else.”

“what do you mean?”

there’s a hint of curiosity in your voice, something that makes oikawa smile. contrary to you, his long time best friend, oikawa’s been in his fair share of relationships. some were long, others short flings, some serious ones, and then others that left just as fast as they came. he had watched you for years pine over other people wishing like the hopeless romantic that you are that you’d finally get your chance in love. he pauses for a moment before looking back at you. “do you know that moment where you have a puzzle and there’s only one piece missing?”

“okay,” you nod.

“and it turns out the puzzle piece fell on the floor, so you pick it up and then complete the puzzle.”

your brows knit in confusion, “that’s an odd scenario to compare love to.”

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"You're taking fucking forever in there."

You ignore Levi's irritated comment as you fiddle with the buckles on your shoes, too tiny to clasp easily and at a part of your ankle that requires your legs to be both tilted and bent to access them. A lethal combination in opposition to your dexterity.

"Are you sewing that dress by hand or what?"

His voice is nearer to your bedroom door now, a little bit more difficult to tune out with only the thin wood between you.

"No, my little mice helpers are doing that for me while I sing to them," you call back, but your words are light and flippant where his were heavy with the weight of his impatience.

"It wouldn't surprise me if you did have your own army of vermin with the amount of junk you've got in this apartment." You can't see Levi's face but you know he's looking around your living room with his nose crinkled in the particular way he does when he finds something distasteful.

You scoff as you finally succeed in doing up your second buckle. You lift your head so you can snap your rebuttal directly towards your closed door.

"Sorry we can't all live like minimalist monks!"

Levi snorts in reply. "I'm hardly a minimalist, I just don't accumulate needless things."

"You only own one bowl, one plate, and one mug."

You've known Levi since college, and you're fairly certain he has the same amount of possessions filling the entirety of his one-bedroom apartment that he did in his one-room dorm a decade prior. Probably the same ones, too.

"That way no one ever tries to come over for meals, it's clever."

"It's spartan."

There's a light thump on the other side of your door, and you wonder what it may have been.

"Didn't you ever read those Marie Kondo books?" Levi's voice is impossibly close now, like he's got his forehead pressed to your door. The thump makes a little more sense.

You laugh a bit to yourself as you imagine the way he's slumped against the expanse of wood, long-dressed in his suit and ready to go where you've taken your time getting ready. It's not your fault Levi showed up thirty minutes earlier than he said he would to pick you up for the company party your shared workplace was throwing that evening--though you should have expected it, given he's never been tardy to anything in the entire time the two of you had been friends.

"Can't say I did," you reply as you cross your bedroom, leaning over in your mirror to get one last close-up look at your face. You run your thumbnail against the edge of your bottom lip where your gloss was slightly ill-applied. "Why do you ask?"

"S'all that," Levi sighs, "'spark joy' bullshit. Don't keep things in your space if they don't make you happy or whatever."

You smile at your own reflection, eyes flickering to the image of your bedroom door you can see in the glass.

"And what if all my 'junk' makes me happy?"

There's some shuffling, and a moment later Levi mutters: "How can an issue of a magazine from 2010 make you happy?"

You suspect he's plucked an old copy of some fashion magazine off the stack resting on the bookshelf beside your door. You've actually been meaning to throw those away for a while, but you don't tell him that.

"How can you manage to not find happiness in anything?"

"That's not true," he argues.

"Oh yeah?" you counter, adjusting the way your necklace is resting against your collarbones. "Name something that you keep around just because it makes you happy."

"My kettle."

"Nope," you answer immediately, grabbing your purse off the end of your bed and heading towards the door, "that serves a practical, utilitarian purpose. I mean something useless that you just like. Just something you think is pretty."

You grasp the handle and pull it open, and you take Levi by surprise--he barely catches himself with a hand on either side of the door frame to keep from crashing into you.

There's a little pink mark at the centre of his brow where he'd been leaning against the door, and his eyes are wide.

"You ready to go?" you ask him, tucking your bag under your arm.

He's frozen, his expression still a little taken aback.

"What?" you ask him, suddenly self conscious. Your hands tug at the material of your dress nervously. "Should I change?"

"No," he says, soft but sure. "You look... fine."

Your face pinches.

"Fine?"

"Nice," Levi corrects himself, finally looking away. He fiddles with the stack of magazines he'd been complaining about moments prior. "You look nice."

"Wow, Ackerman, with compliments like that it's shocking that you have to take your best friend as your date to the company party and not one of the countless women I'm sure are knocking at your door."

Levi narrows his eyes, tossing you a withering look.

"You're the one who said we should go together."

"That's because I want to blackout at the open bar, and you're the only person I know who turns down a drink on the corporate dollar," you say with a bright smile.

Levi tuts in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes wandering away from you again. "Charming."

A beat of silence passes.

Levi sucks in a little breath.

"You."

"Pardon?" you ask, and not even because he said it so quietly you barely understood him, but because it doesn't quite make sense.

"Something I keep around just because I like it," Levi says, his eyes fixed so intently on the outdated magazine stack that you're surprised the pages don't burst into flames. "Just because it makes me happy..."

Your heart stutters in its rhythm, a sudden weakness in your knees you can't chalk up to the height of your heels as easily as you may have liked to.

"...Just because it's pretty."

You swallow thickly.

His eyes meet yours.

The time and space between the two of you is thick and sweet like honey, and you wade through it slowly as you fight to find your words. You swear you can almost taste it as your tongue peeks out to moisten your already glossy lips.

"We should probably go," you say quietly, reaching out to adjust the lapel of Levi's suit. If your touch lingers a moment longer than it ought to, if your fingers brush against him in a way that friends' shouldn't, neither of you says anything about it.

Levi nods and clears his throat, taking the slightest step away from you towards your front door. "We gotta get you back before midnight after all, Cinderella."

You blink, a little confused, a little dazed, a little bit of a head rush still clouding your thoughts.

"The mice, remember?" Levi offers when he sees your curious look, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Oh," you laugh, letting your head hang as you nod slightly. "Right."

The two of you make your way down to the parking lot outside of your apartment building towards Levi's car, and you watch as the lights flash when he unlocks it.

"I've got two mugs, by the way," Levi says as he pulls the driver's side door open, and you pause with your hand on the handle of your own. He looks at you over the roof of his car, his eyes suddenly firmer than you'd seen them all night. More insistent. More sure.

You tilt your head, confused.

He ducks down to slide into his seat, but not before calling back to you one last time:

"The other one is yours."

some eels only live a few years but plenty live full human lifespans. The oldest one known is about 155 years. Eels don't develop sex organs till the last year of their life. All eels are believed to come from the sargasso sea where eels leave at the start of their lives and return to towards the end. The Sargasso seas is the only sea surrounded completely by water. The Sargasso seas on its own is a deeply interesting existence and deserves a much more detailed description than I can give. All eels includes the freshwater eels, so for at least part of all freshwater eels' lives they are believed to live in seawater for at least the length of their journey to get from the Sargasso sea towards their normal living environments. Their migration patterns and reproduction conditions are still not very well mapped. also electric eels aren't eels they're knifefish and do not share the same mysteries as eels have built into their very being.

That’s really cool, I didn’t know eels were so fascinating. I decided to look more into eels because I had some time on my hands out found this ted Ed video about the mystery of how they mate and I feel like anyone who is interested in your facts would also find this very interesting too :)

A SIMPLIFIED VIEW OF BRAIN FUNCTION

Okay, hear me out:

I’m happy Avery was a bad friend to Max. I’m happy she hurt the people around her.

When I first read TIG, I remember thinking that Avery was *such* a Mary Sue in the first few chapters. For context, this is what Wikipedia says a Mary Sue is: “A Mary Sue is a character archetype in fiction, usually a young woman, who is often portrayed as inexplicably competent across all domains, gifted with unique talents or powers.” I mean, she was the quiet “wallpaper” girl with only one friend who faced hardships and lived out of her car occasionally, yet still did well in school, successfully ran a poker ring, and then befriended + played a homeless man for the privilege of buying him breakfast every day. I thought I would dislike Avery because of this.

But we get to see the actions that drove the Mary Sue impression hurt those around her. She managed to be so successful in school while managing a job, tumultuous family relationships, and a poker ring because she’s stubborn, driven, and focused.

However, her focus nurtured selfishness, as she was only able to focus on her situation, therefore causing that temporary rift between her and Max. Her life situation was dire, but that doesn’t erase the fact that Max had felt like she wasn’t listened to for a length of time. Avery’s explanations for being an inattentive friend are valid, but they don’t excuse it. Although, she did listen to Max in TIG and aspired to be a better/more attentive friend. Despite this, she still forgot about Max’s birthday in THL because she was so focused on Emily’s birthday auction and the family affairs:

“And that was when I realized: ‘Today’s your birthday, too.’

‘Too?’ For a split second, I saw raw emotion behind Max’s eyes” (THL 121).

Similarly, while I won’t be finding quotes for it, Avery acknowledged that she became negligent of Libby as she focused on her new situation, the puzzles, and the boys.

Also, in THL, Avery’s stubbornness and drive hurt Oren. She continues pulling on the Toby thread, eventually leading to the plane bomb incident. Avery says: “Alisa didn’t like the idea of my visiting Hawthorne Island. Oren liked it even less. But there was no stopping me now” (THL 292). Because of this, men *die.* Now, Avery didn’t kill those men, but both her and Oren recognize that it was avoidable:

“His voice got tighter. ‘Two of my men didn’t make it.’

Devastating guilt drilled through me. . .‘I’m sorry.’

Oren didn’t tell me not to be. He didn’t say that if I hadn’t pushed to go to Rockaway Watch, those men would still be alive” (THL 310).

I love that her traits were double-edged, and I love that they were truly bad. So often, the flaws female characters are allowed are negligible— especially regarding consequences and accountability. It’s also notable because JLB said she wrote Avery with the ability to go toe-to-toe with the “magic” Hawthorne brothers; it would have been so convenient to subdue her flaws. Yet, Avery didn’t have traits which existed only as flaws to check a box; she had traits that acted as both assets and liabilities. She successfully managed the adversity dealt to her because of such, but also equally hurt those around her— and for that, I’m happy. I thought she would be a Mary Sue, but her actions in the beginning of TIG are simply one side of the coin. It saved Avery from being an unfortunate archetype, instead transforming her into a dynamic, realistic, understandable, and relatable character.

Extra: people get mad at Jameson because he was so focused on the puzzle in TIG that he hurt Avery— but she did the exact same thing to the few people who cared about her. Let’s not absolve her of and feel guilt only for Avery in order to villainize Jameson and make his mistakes uniquely indicative of his moral failings. Their hunger can be selfish. Let’s recognize that, like Avery, Jameson’s drive and focus are nuanced. In contrast, Alisa and Nash’s drives were unmatched, which led to their downfall—but that’s a whole separate discussion.

Extra extra: ignore any spelling or grammar mistakes. I’m not double checking this because I’m hungry and want to go eat :(. Also, I definitely was swinging like a pendulum between present and past tense as I discussed the story and evidence— ignore this. It’s a bad habit that I always have to pay special attention to while editing papers, but like I said, I’m not rereading this.