#Steps to use keywords

[asiqbal6]

How to put keywords on Amazon ? Use of keywords on Amazon

To put keywords on Amazon effectively, follow these steps: 1. Product Title: Place the most important keywords related to your product at the beginning of the title. Keep it concise and readable, while incorporating relevant terms that customers might use when searching for your product. 2. Bullet Points and Description: Integrate keywords naturally in your bullet points and product…

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

watching fandaniel go is wild because he is just [vestibular stims] [vestibular stims] [vestibular stims] [vestibular stims] and yeah man that's a mood

[gender-euphowrya]

i seriously don't get how any country can call itself a democracy without having classes dedicated to teaching how politics work in its schools

[hwanswerland]

can we stop putting celebrities on horses for aesthetic reasons when they can't ride for shit

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than three drafts

Rebalanced my auto-battle cards, because it turns out my decks are way too weak to compete with them, and they don't really need to be strong anyway. Also made a MAJOR nerf to how lands work for the deck. Also reposting the other conspiracies (rules) because it's been a while and they're helpful as context

[bestseocompanymadurai06]

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[kimstills]

insatiable

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: with an age gap like yours and aaron’s, it’s expected for there to be differences. aaron expected it, of course, but he never expected it to be like this. but is he really complaining?

content warnings: smut, 18+, minors do not interact!, established relationship, age gap, like two (2) spanks, some dry humping, p in v, cowgirl, cream pie, reader is a horn dog but hotch is whipped regardless, degradation, dirty talk, hints of sugar daddy!aaron

word count: 2.2k

a/n: i already had this in my drafts but when i saw this post i couldn’t help but speed up the process teehee 🤭 all i ever write is smut but i honestly cant help it lmao there’s something wrong w me

Aaron is a tired man.

A tired, busy, stressed, and overworked man.

He swears he somehow has six children despite only one of them having his actual blood and DNA.

He knows the relationship between him and the rest of his team has become fatherly in some aspects (keyword: some), even silently acknowledging the way they call him and Rossi ‘mom and dad’ behind their backs.

Yet, despite his love and respect for them, he was still a tired father man. A man that gave his team the weekend off so he could go home and sleep for 48 hours straight without the annoying six a.m. alarm that was constantly pending and going off.

But, of course, it seemed that you had others plans for him.

You, who he would normally classify as his sweet, beloved angel of a girlfriend, was secretly the devil reincarnated, someone who patiently waited for him to arrive to your shared apartment in order to attack.

He can sense the tension as soon as he steps inside the living area and sees you waiting for him on the couch, sitting primly with your legs tucked underneath you and facing the door. A sweet smile and seemingly innocent look adorns your face but Aaron knows better, and it doesn’t take a profiler to see the mischief that still sparkles through your facade.

He groans inwardly, not just because of those tactics of yours he’s already used to, no. But because of what you’re wearing. The cherry on top, truly.

A short, pink—and overall skimpy—nightie adorns your figure, the satin fabric shining the slightest bit from the glow of the table lamp from behind you. It ends at your mid-thigh, the lace adorned slit spread open over your skin, leaving little to the imagination. He can tell it’s new, a piece he hasn’t seen before—a piece he’s certain you bought with his credit card.

You look sweet, so sweet, but Aaron knows what you truly are.

A horny, insatiable beast.

Out of all the things Aaron has ever wondered in his life, he couldn’t help but be at a loss at how you’ve managed to conceal such ravenous desires with specious normalcy. He knew that hypersexuality and eagerness was a prone factor of yours, given the significant age gap between you two.

The insecurity prods at him now and then, the one that makes him think he’s far too old for a girl like you. But while he still considered himself to have a somewhat normal, healthy libido for his age, yours was over the roof—completely skyrocketed over what Aaron thought was the normal amount for a woman your age.

He doesn’t know how you do it, how you’re always ready to pounce on him at—quite literally—all times.

There’s been times where he’s been woken up with your mouth wrapped around his dick and your head bobbing up and down underneath the blanket, times where little to hardly no work gets done when he’s working from home because he just ‘looked so hot concentrated,’ times where his alarm goes off early in the morning and you call him back to bed with just a spread of your legs.

He swears he’s going to get a heart attack because of you one of these days.

The sound of you shuffling around the couch snaps him back to reality, swallowing harshly when you move to lean over the backrest of the couch. Your breasts push against the cushions, accentuating them further than the nightie allows.

“Welcome home, my love.”

He’s faced far worse monsters than a horny twenty-something-year-old, but he can’t help but look away in mortification as the exhaustion he was previously feeling begins to get replaced by his trousers tightening around him.

Your giggle snaps him out of his trance and he clenches and unclenches his fist, setting his suitcase down by the door. “Hi, sweetheart.”

You grin brightly, eyes twinkling in the low light of the apartment as you tap the seat next to you. Like a predator masking kindness and genuineness in order to get closer to their prey before they attack.

“How was work?” You ask, eyes following his every move as he cautiously makes his way over to you. You shift your body so that you’re facing him once he sits down, the top of your exposed knees brushing against the side of his thigh.

Aaron’s breath hitches. This was all part of your routine, your plan. He knows that you actually do care about how his days go, but right now, by that look in your eyes, he can tell you’re attempting to lure him in just like a siren does with a sailor.

If any of his team members were here right now they’d be snickering at how Aaron Hotchner, their seemingly stoic and intimidating boss, was turning weak in the knees for his horny girlfriend. He swallows the lump in his throat before answering, “It was good. Just a paperwork kind of day.”

You hum, nibbling at your bottom lip and leaning forward, one hand coming to rest on his pantsuit clad thigh. “I missed you today.”

It’s a ruse, Aaron says to himself. It’s all a ruse. The way you flutter your eyelashes at him and creep your hand further up. He knows it, he knows all of your little tricks.

Yet he still has to push you away. He never does.

“I missed you, too, sweet girl.” His heart flutters at the way you bite your bottom lip and smile, another endearing giggle echoing through the room before you finally move onto his lap.

Like a siren with a sailor.

You wrap your arms around his neck, practically shoving your boobs in his face as you settle yourself on either side of his thighs. Aaron groans when you plant yourself right on top of his growing bulge, throwing his head back as you begin to pepper needy, heated kisses all over his face.

His hands come to grip at your waist, hissing when you bite and suck at the sensitive skin on his neck. “Sweetheart—” he tries to usher you, to get you to slow down, but he’s cut off by you grinding down on his clothed dick, eliciting a moan from both of you.

“Missed you so much,” you repeat, voice coming out in a whine like you’ve been starved of his attention for months.

God, Aaron swears he can feel his body go into overdrive in order to attempt to keep up with you. Your lips continue to kiss at his neck while your hands eagerly work to undo his belt, messily pulling and tugging.

He hisses quietly when you reach inside his boxers to spring his cock free of its restraints, the bulge slapping against his tummy while the angry red tip leaks of precome.

“Y/N, honey,” he tries again, trying to regain control of the situation, as if he had ever had any of it to begin with. Another groan is pulled from the back of his throat when you wrap a perfectly manicured hand—a manicure he paid for, of course—around his length, interrupting his attempt to snap you out of your lust-filled haze.

You hum in satisfaction at the sight of him, moving your hand up and down, tugging at the base of his cock and running your thumb over the slit. “So big,” you whimper, nibbling at your bottom lip. “Missed your cock, Aaron. Always miss you.”

Aaron digs his nails into the fabric of the nightie, throwing his head against the cushions when you spit onto your hand and use it as lube to quicken your pace.

Maybe you were secretly a succubus, one that feigned purity and serenity to fool and lure in her victims before showing her true form. One that maxes out all of her victim’s credit cards to buy skimpy outfits and pay for all her things.

But who was he to deny you anything? Aaron never thought he would be able to handle all of this—all of you, even without the constant horniness— but here he was, fighting for his life while you lifted your hips and sunk down on his cock.

Aaron groaned again, the sound loud and guttural as it mixed in with your own cry of pleasure. Your walls clenched, wrapping around him like a vice who never wanted to let go.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he mumbles, his grip on your waist loosening and his hands skirting down your back to slip underneath the hem of your nightie, delivering a particularly harsh slap against your ass that makes you whine. “Take what you so desperately want all the time.”

He chuckles at the sight of your cheeks turning pink, your desperation overpowering your slight embarrassment as you begin to move your hips.

“Aaron,” you cry out, bottom lip jutting out and eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“What? Does that feel good?” He taunts, one hand slipping around your waist, keeping you close while the other leans against the backrest of the couch.

You nod, a fucked-out expression already taking its place on your face. “S-So good, I l-love it.”

“Yeah? You love it?” He coos when you nod again. “Dirty girl, always so needy and ready for me. You have no shame, do you, sweetheart?”

“Uh-uh,” you mumble, “Need you all the time.” The straps from your nightie slip down your shoulder as you lean backwards, resting your palms against his knees behind you before quickening your pace and bouncing needily.

“Shit, honey,” Aaron murmurs, taking in the sight of you before him. Your tits jiggled in his face, threatening to jump out of the fabric covering them, and your head was thrown back in utter pleasure while you rolled your hips. Some of the sweetest sounds Aaron had ever heard in his life were leaving your mouth, a mix of babbled words and moans.

“‘Mma, I’m g-gonna cum, ba-baby,” You whisper, too blissed out to form proper words. “I’m gonna—fuck—gonna c-cum, Aaron.”

Aaron could practically feel how close you were, your walls clenching and unclenching around him repeatedly as you pushed through the pain shooting up your thighs and continued bouncing on his cock.

“You’re going to be the death of me, sweet girl,” he mutters, stopping your irregular movements before pulling you into his chest and taking over for you.

A loud, practically pornographic moan echoed through the apartment as he began thrusting up into you, settling himself further down the couch for a better angle. The only sounds that could be heard were his low grunts and your high-pitched moans along with the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing in with the squelching sound of your pussy.

Repeated strings of ‘yes, yes, yes’ left your mouth, teeth digging into your bottom lip harshly and toes curling as you felt your orgasm approach you violently. You shook in his hold, adding to his thrusts by bouncing up and down again as best as you could.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Aaron whispers into your ear, tightening his hold on you. “Come on my cock, you wanted it so bad, right?”

You nod dumbly, eyes shut and face contorted into pure, utter bliss. You quiver when another slap is delivered to your ass, and it doesn’t take long for you to finish right then and there. You squeal in his arms, body stuttering and shaking as your orgasms rips through your body and invades all your senses.

Aaron presses a chaste kiss to your cheeks, not letting go of his hold on you as he continues thrusting up inside your gushing cunt, his own movements becoming sloppy as he feels his own high approach.

“Aaron,” you sigh, “Come in m-me. P-Please, fill me up,” you throw your head back, “Want it so bad.”

All it takes are those words for him to unload inside you, another groan escaping as white, hot ribbons of his come spurt deep inside you, mixing in with your own release.

You both lay still there, his cock still inside you as you attempt to regain your breath. After a while, you giggle breathily, coming up to wrap your hands around his neck and lay your head on his shoulder tiredly.

“What a shame you have to go back to work tomorrow,” you say, the pout on your lips evident despite Aaron not being able to see you properly.

This next part he knows he shouldn’t say, but he can’t help himself.

“I, uh, gave the team the rest of the weekend off.” He feels you freeze in his arms. “I’ll be home, honey.”

You sit back up, your eyes holding that hunger again as you stare up at him and tilt your head to the side coyly. “Really?”

He nods, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You giggle again. “Well, looks like we’ll have a lot of time to ourselves then, no?”

Aaron groans when he feels you begin to clench around him again.

When he goes back to work the next Monday, he’s approached by a confused looking Rossi, the older man’s brows furrowed as he takes in his appearance.

“You look more tired than before?” He says, the observation coming out as a question.

Aaron sighed.

Yes, you were insatiable. But he was, too.

[sttoru]

.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. it’s late at night and you try to cuddle with sukuna. keyword; try.

wc. 1.2k

tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. fluff, angst (+comfort). heian era. size difference (readers referred to as small). sukuna’s a bit mean, but he also has a soft spot for you. miscommunication ? it gets solved. reader gets called ‘woman, doll’.

“what are you trying to do?” sukuna sighs. you’re up to something again, he figures. his red eyes follow your body as it crawls up to him on the bed.

you’re both tired after a long day of fulfilling some duties here and there around the estate. all you need is a big beefy man wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm and safe.

the perfect man for that is sukuna. those four arms of his wrapped around your small body feel like heaven.

“it’s called cuddling,” you retort. the sarcastic tone you used triggers a deep sigh from the sorcerer. sukuna holds back the urge to say something sarcastic as well.

he doesn’t utter a single word once you snuggle up to his chest. you’ve taught him how to cuddle during the first time you asked him to hold you. sukuna was awkward with showing any type of affection back then.

. . he still very much is.

“hug, please,” you remind him. the cold-hearted man scoffs, though listens to your polite request. all four of his arms imprison you against his chest, your small body nearly disappearing behind his limbs.

that’s what you like most about those cuddles you share together; how you fit so perfectly in his strong arms. it’s much more comforting than you thought it would be.

a pair of hands rests on your waist, the other pair on your hips. sukuna glances down at you and immediately notices that smile on your lips. even after all this time, he still cannot fathom why you’re so carefree around a monster like him.

and that inability to understand you and your love for him is accompanied by an urge to push you away.

“you got your hug, now get up,” sukuna interrupts the silence. his voice is cold and devoid of emotion—he uses that voice when he talks to other people. not with you, “i have better things to attend to.”

thus, it hurts. when he talks to you like that. like you’re not the person he secretly cherishes most. though, you remind yourself of sukuna’s own words. the ones you heard him say a while ago.

‘love is meaningless’, he said. you remember. and yet you kept hoping that he’d change his mind about that statement. you hoped and eventually saw exactly that: your presence and your affectionate gestures mellowed his heart of steel.

but all that effort seems to go down the drain every time sukuna pushes you away.

you know it’s because he’s unfamiliar with the feelings of love. he may not say it nor show it, but you know that sukuna’s afraid of hurting you. so, he creates a gap between you two every now and then.

you know and yet you’re patient.

“oh, ‘kay,” you nod in understanding. you pull away from his embrace and get up from the bed. your bottom lip trembles.

sukuna is not gullible. he’s anything but oblivious. especially if it’s about how you feel and act. he notices every single change in your mood; whether you mask it or not.

you walk to the sliding doors—ready to open them and step out into the hallway. your eyes are a bit watery, but you quickly blink the tears away and take a deep breath in. you reach for the door.

“come back here, woman.”

sukuna’s booming voice makes you stop. you glance at his form over your shoulder. he’s leaning against the headboard of the bed, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

is he. . . upset?

“why? you said you had better things to attend to.” you answer with a shrug. you try your best to not make it seem like his earlier words had effected you. you turn your head towards the word with a huff, “go on, then.”

sukuna narrows his eyes. he sucks at communicating what he actually desires—what he actually wants. right now that want is for you to stay. even though that completely contradicts his previous words.

the sorcerer doesn’t know what to do. when you’re with him, he pushes you away out of guilt. when you’re away, he wants you back with him.

love is complicated.

“you. . .” sukuna grunts in frustration. all those feelings for you inside of his heart are playing with his rational thoughts. he doesn’t like seeing you upset. he wants the usual you back, “tsk. fine then.”

silence, followed by the creaking of the bed frame. seems like sukuna’s getting up to do whatever ‘business’ he needed to attend. at least, that’s what you thought.

you slide the door open and set a foot outside of the chambers. before the other could follow, you’re suddenly lifted up in the air by a strong pair of hands. your vision turns upside down as your body is effortlessly hoisted onto a shoulder.

“woah!” you gasp and feel the blood go to your head. your eyes are fixed on the back of your lover. you kick your legs in protest, but only get a smack to your ass in response. you whine at that, “put me down!”

“watch it, doll,” sukuna hisses at your fierce demand, a warning to fix your tone. he puts you back down on the soft mattress. he’s surprisingly gentle when he settles you in place—not throwing you on the bed or anything similar, “should’ve listened when i told you the first time.”

your eyes meet sukuna’s and you notice how much they’ve softened. that alone makes the lump in your throat disappear. your love for him isn’t one sided—you’ve always kept that in the back of your mind—yet your thoughts made you overlook the little things he does for you.

his actions speak louder than his words. that’s the kind of man he is.

sukuna’s trying to open up more, though that process is slow. you’re fine with that.

especially when there’s that faint pout on his lips as he stares at you. his eyebrows are still furrowed, his crimson eyes sharp yet warm.

“oh, you want me back in bed this bad?” you tease once you get the opportunity. the man in front of you clicks his tongue and grabs your cheeks with one hand, turning your head up to face him.

sukuna’s eyes are focused on yours. the eye contact is intimidating, but you’re hypnotised. you physically can’t look away. he leans in and bites your lip with his sharp canines, “shut up.”

that raspy whisper alone confirms your assumption. you giggle at his attempt of refuting your point. you’re used to all those intimidating words and actions he pulls to get you to stop your teasing.

those empty threats—it’s becoming rather cute with how hard he tries to deny everything. he fails nearly every time, however.

“come,” sukuna lays back against the pillows after placing a quick and sloppy kiss against your lips. he pulls your body against his and presses your head against his chest, right where his heart is beating, “continue with your.. ‘cuddling’ thing.”

he put your ear right above his heart, because he remembers listening to his heartbeat calms you down. you told him that a while back. sukuna doesn’t understand why you like it, but his fingers massage your scalp either way.

that’s also something that brings you comfort.

you’re surprised by how much he knows about you, but appreciate it anyway. he remembers both the big and small things about you. ‘that’s how he probably shows his love,’ you conclude silently.

[pisceantarot]

⋆ ｡  𐀔  ° ‧     what does this person want you to know?

KEYWORDS: romance, relationships, (past) situationships, seperation, energy check between you and your person of romantic interest.

ꕤ * ． pile one. → ꕤ * ． pile two. → ꕤ * ． pile three.

relax your body, close your eyes, and take a deep breath. ask yourself: "which pile has a message for me today?" when you open your eyes, what image did your eyes fall on? what image do you feel most drawn to energetically? that's your pile!

this reading is timeless! it will cross your path whenever it's meant to find you 🍀 while my main intention was to channel someone you're already involved with, you can also use this for your sp, a future partner, a soulmate, or whoever you're thinking about!!

PILE # 01

your person is a true yearner, i'll tell you this much. their heart is very fragile, they want you to know they're scared of getting hurt, of being betrayed. this is a person who didn't have many healthy relationships in the past. they're confused, unsure what to do, and just wishes to avoid it all right now.

they're very much fantasising about a future with you, though... they want it all with you, they loooove your laugh. (i'm seeing that maybe they want to travel with you? explore the world together is what i heard.) with you on their side, they feel invincible. they really want you on their team. when this person has been processing their emotions healthily, i see that they're very attentive, unafraid of showing a passionate desire towards you, and generally very caring and loving. they appreciate you so much, you're the brightest star in their existence.

however, if this person isn't standing strong in their emotions, i see them being very hot and cold. when you're together, everything feels right. you feel secure, you feel like there's something there. but when you're apart i see that you're very confused by the energy of your relationship. your mind appears to be your biggest enemy: do they like me? am i good enough for them? is this something that could work out? (i see that this is you picking up on the energy of your person... their confusion and doubts are making you doubtful as well.)

what i'm hearing is that you need to focus on your own healing and stability, so you can help this person heal energetically as well. this is a connection that's mostly guided by the divine. (currently there's a lot happening behind the scenes that you aren't even aware of.) you're meant to heal and complete certain cycles with this person for sure, this is not the end of the connection. so have faith, and trust that everything will align!!

a letter from your person: do you think about me too? i can't get you out of my head, no matter how much i try. you're always there. it frustrates me, how easy it would be for you to secure a spot inside of my heart. how well we could work together if i let my guard down. i'm scared, though. scared of hurting you, scared of hurting myself, scared of failing. what if i have something so beautiful with you and then ruin it by my fears and self sabotaging tendencies? i don't know why you still stick around, but i'm trying to be a better person. please call me out on my bullshit, i need you to be firm and stand your ground. don't take shit from me, i know i need to step up. i care for you, i'm trying to put my ego aside.

PILE # 02

god help my soul, i'm sensing a very intense and determined energy coming from your person 😭 this is definitely giving me the energy of an ex, or a situationship that was meant to take off but somehow didn't (i see this being your person's fault, for sure). this person absolutely regrets losing you. they're the reason things aren't moving forward. they blame themselves, they're angry and devastated. they wish they could've done things differently.

in the most favourable outcome, i see this person working on healing themselves. they're going through an ego death/dark night of the soul and are questioning everything and everyone around them. in this reflection i see them wanting to become a better person (for you), if you're willing to give them a chance. they want to love you right, they want to show you how much you mean to them... i see them wanting to swoop in and steal you away so you can ride into the sunset together!!

if this person refuses to face their demons, however, i see that spirit is going to give them a very difficult time unfortunately</3 they will hit them with the same harsh lessons over and over again until they finally see the light. in this case i see spirit keeping this connection in a separation (or limbo) in order to protect you. you can't heal this person right now... if they open their eyes, if they're able to see... they would understand what you truly mean to them. what a treasure they had in front of them. they will get there, though. it might take some time, i'm hearing.

depending on your situation with this person, only take them back if you can see that they've changed!! you know this is the case when they come back and show humble energy, that they're able to admit that they were wrong. i see, for some of you, they truly fucked up. so please use your discernment! losing you has been their biggest regret, though, and they will be carrying this guilt for a very long time...

a letter from your person: i'm going to win you back. i'll return to you and prove that i can be the person you need me to be. i'm sorry for hurting you in the past, i'm sorry for making you feel like you weren't good enough. apologies won't cut it, i know things need to change. i'm working on facing my demons. you were right, you made me realise i need to heal. i hope you still will be there when i come back... do you have someone new? are you willing to forgive me? i messed up, and losing you will be the biggest regret of my life.

PILE # 03

this is such a sweet and gentle energy, i just want to squish their cheeks<33 i see many different scenarios for you two. you could be dating, this could be a secret admirer, this could be your friend... this person feels very hesitant to me. i feel like they often have a poker face or wear a mask. i sense that you might pick up that they're hiding something from you/aren't being 100% authentic. don't be afraid, they aren't hiding anything malicious! if anything, i see they're hiding the depth of their emotions for you. they fear coming off too strong, they fear scaring you away. if you're in a relationship together, i see them wanting to take the next step... (making things official, living together, an engagement maybe? 🤭) they want to move things forward in a fruitful way, they want to give you all the love in the world. they're sooooo gentle with you, this makes my heart want to burst with love. they have such good intentions with you and they want to make you happy for as long as you'll have them<3

i don't feel any negative energies for this pile</3 literally, the worst case scenario here is that your person is a bit hesitant and reluctant to show the depths of their true feelings for you. they fear rejection, they fear being judged by you. (i see this person really cares and values your opinion of them, so your rejection would hurt tbh.) they're mostly testing the waters right now, trying to figure out what you want and what you're ready for. this is a very considerate person! but again, their insecurities might stop them from taking any action right now.

you have such a special place in their heart, it's no joke. you must have such a beautiful and powerful energy because this person literally loves every. single. thing. about. you. they see you as their sun, their moon, their stars, their whole universe... you mean a lot to them. i think the depth of their emotions scares them as well, to be honest. but i see them being brave and facing this head on. they want you, they know they want you, so i see them making a very significant move in the very near future.

please, my pile 3, be gentle with their heart<3 their energy is so pure and wholesome, they could be such a bright light in your darkness! i'm hearing that, if you aren't sure of this person's intentions, know that it's safe to trust them. you'll be very pleasantly surprised with what's waiting for you if you open your heart!

a letter from your person: do you like me? you shine so bright, sometimes it's blinding me. you radiate so much warmth, you make me so happy. when i'm with you there's no other place i'd rather be. did you know this? i'm placing my heart in your hands, i surrender myself to you...

(i'm not getting much more from them because this person is a bit shy... but when i'm in their energy... their heart just glows thinking about you. i see shy smiles, unable to keep eye contact without blushing, i feel like sometimes they need to take breaks from you because you're so overwhelming. love love love this energy 🩷)

[chubbyreaderwriter]

I have a long request ahahaha can u make a chubby reader x Voldemort/tom riddle story? like where the reader tries to be friends with them but they get annoyed but when time pass by he slowly gets used to it and enjoys the readers presence until one day the reader stops because of some paired up project with harry or whoever character you use and he gets jealous but won't admit it can this be angst and fluff HAHSHSJ sorry if this is long hope you consider this!

I Don’t Share (My Project Partners)

Tom Riddle x Chubby/Plus Size Reader

Imagine: You somehow manage to wriggle your way into Tom's heart but he's not the only one suddenly enamoured with you. Too bad he's never been good at sharing.

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: none

Masterlist

You were out of breath rushing to your Potions class praying to Merlin that Professor Slughorn was in one of his quirky moods again and hadn’t noticed that you were missing for the first five minutes of class. Quietly sneaking in through the half opened door, you took the first open seat you could find which just so happened to be right next to Tom Riddle, a Half-Blood Slytherin you had seen around the castle a few times before. He was a strange boy, kept to himself most of the time and you rarely saw him with other people but you hadn’t taken much notice of him before that morning in all honesty.

You let out a sigh of relief as you seemed to have arrived undetected, placing your Potions book in front of you. You peeked over at Tom’s book to see what page you should be on and he quickly shut his book to stop you. You raised your gaze and saw him glaring at you, “If you wanted to know what page we should be reading, you should have arrived on time to be instructed by the professor.” You scoffed at him, “Oh come on, I was running a little late just this once, there’s really no need to be so mean.” Tom didn’t respond to you, turning his attention back to his book that he had angled in a way that you were unable to see the page number. You waited until you heard Slughorn mumbled some keywords to another student and successfully found the page number after a brief scroll through. You shot a smug little smile at Tom who only sneered back in your direction.

You spent the rest of the class in silence, well apart from you muttering to yourself and Tom’s occasional scoff in disagreement from it (not that he was listening to you). The class ended and Tom wasted very little time getting as far away from you as possible. You frowned, he was so rude. ‘Hm’ you thought to yourself ‘maybe he just needs a friend’.

Tom had disregarded your encounter with him as a one off. Two days had passed and he hadn’t seen any more of you since Potions class. He wasn’t overly fond of people to start with and especially not unorganised, intrusive girls like you who’s sole purpose seemed to be to ruin the silence and peace he had created around himself. He was walking towards Transfiguration when a certain familiar figure came into his eyesight. You’d been walking alone in the corridor as well, heading back to your friends after visiting the loo when you spotted Tom. You gave him a smile and wave, walking over to him. Tom didn’t halter in his movements, walking straight past you with only a look of distaste being shot your way.

Unfortunately for Tom, you had never been one to give up so easily. You pursued, having to jog a little to fall into step with him, “Hey, listen, I’m sorry if I annoyed you or crossed some kind of line by sitting next to you but it really wasn’t personal, that was just the closest seat I could find.” Tom turned his head to briefly glance at you before continuing his walk. This time you didn’t follow. Mentally, he let out a sigh of relief, thinking it was now all over and done with. The two of you going back to forgetting the other exists.

Well, his hopes of that came crashing down when you plopped yourself down next to him that afternoon for Potions once again. This time you were a few minutes early and plenty of other seats available, showing him that you’d chosen to sit next to him this time. The only visible tell of his annoyance was the exaggeration of a vein on his forehand next to his left temple. “What gives you any idea that I want you sitting next to me?” You shrugged and set up your books in front of you, “I mean, you didn’t answer me earlier so I figured it would be okay.” You ended your sentence with a warm smile at him and he had to admit he was a little taken aback by your oblivious demeanour. He wasn’t too sure whether you were just that naïve and honestly didn’t pick up on his body language or if you were doing this on purpose to get a rise out of him. Either way, he wasn’t going to humour your antics.

He clenched his jaw and turned his attention to the Professor, trying his best to ignore you next to him. Your many attempts at small talk had been shut down and ignored throughout the two hour period. The only words you managed to get out of him were at the end of class when the bell rang. He turned to you and spoke low so that nobody else would hear, “If you sit there again, I’ll hex you into next week do you understand?” Tom didn’t hang about for your reply, instead scurrying off to the Slytherin common room you supposed as it had been your last class for the day. You folded your arms and sighed as you pondered, he would be one tough cookie to crack but you’d break him out of his shell eventually, you knew it.

___ Tom stopped in his tracks as he saw you in his usual seat, the one next to where you had resided in the last class. You were sat with your hands in your lap until you turned your head and saw him stood in the doorway. With a large grin on your face, you waved him over. Seething with each step, Tom grit his teeth and stood to the side of you, “Are you completely incompetent as well as deaf?” It was infuriating the way you continued to smile at him as he insulted you, “You said you’d hex me if I sat there again, so I sat here instead. You don’t mind taking the right side this time do you? Or would you like to stop threatening me and I can give you your old seat back?”

“Mr Riddle, this is most peculiar for you, why aren’t you seated my boy?” Both of you turned your attention to Professor Slughorn in the centre of the classroom. You then glanced around the room and noticed that everyone was looking at the two of you now. You bit your lip feeling a bit self conscious with so many eyes on you even though you knew they were really only focusing on Tom. Said boy stood up straight, “Forgive me Professor, I was distracted.” He quickly sat down next to you, making Slughorn exude a small content noise before continuing on about Veritaserum and how it has developed over the years. You winced, whispering to him, “I’m sorry, I feel like that was partially my fault.” Tom clenched his jaw to prevent him from losing his calm composure, “It was entirely your fault. Do tell me, why are you insisting on pestering me all of a sudden? Is it not amusing enough to fail your own classes that you have to try to drag me down to your level in mine?”

You leaned your elbow on the table and rested your head in your palm, rolling your eyes at Tom, “Why do I have to have some sinister motive to talk to you? I was just trying to be your friend.” Your confession didn’t rouse anything else from Tom but he didn’t feel anger as much as he did curiosity at that moment. Why would you want to be his friend? He didn’t need friends. When he saw you look away in his peripheral vision, he looked over at you, eyeing you up and down before turning back to the parchment paper before him.

___

The next time you had Potions again, you were running late once again, having taken the wrong staircase which set you five minutes behind. When you reached the classroom, there was yet again only a couple open seats, the closest being next to Tom. Professor Slughorn was near the other one so you’d made the quick decision to just slide next to Tom once again. You panted a little and took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, taking out your books and parchment. You glanced over at Tom, “Just so you know, it’s not my fault I’m late, those staircase are just so confusing. I’m only sitting here because I didn’t want to get in trouble. Don’t worry this will be the last time.” Tom didn’t look at you or say anything but when you looked over to glance at his book he didn’t hide it this time, allowing you to open it to the correct page just in time as Slughorn came around to make sure everyone was following along.

Despite your words, you had ended up become Tom’s permanent Potions partner. Slughorn had paired the two of you up together once and it just became habit for you to seek out Tom for partner work. He never refused but didn’t exactly accept either, just got straight to work without discussing the plan beforehand. You continued to sit next to Tom over the coming months, you could probably count the times he willingly engaged in conversation with you on one hand but you would always have something to say, using him as some kind of venting therapy, voicing all your issues to. It took Tom a few weeks to be able to tolerate your presence next to him, a few more weeks to start to expect your ramblings and a few more on top of that for him to begin to enjoy your company for a few hours a week.

You were a bit of an enigma that Tom didn’t understand. You were so bubbly and happy in a world that was mostly full of darkness and misery. You had looked at him and instead of avoiding him like many others, you had persisted and persisted until you had managed to worm your way by his side and become quite possibly the closest thing he’d ever had to a friend. You’d never been put down by his lack of responses to your chatting, didn’t frown at his insults, didn’t question why he was the way he was, just immediately accepted him from the start. Part of him had been tempted to manipulate this from the beginning, you were so naive, so gullible; you would’ve believed anything. He could have had you do anything for him, but for some reason, he hadn’t wanted to do that to you. Perhaps it was because you were the first person to show him genuine kindness. You didn’t want to be his friend because you wanted anything, you weren’t doing it to make yourself feel better, your intentions were pure and that was something humanity was very scarce in, indeed.

Even though he didn’t say much (if anything) you could tell that you had made a lot of progress with Tom over the past few months you’d been his Potions partner. You had even started walking together to different classes now. He wouldn’t admit it but you noticed the way he slowed his pace down so that you could keep up with him. You would continue to talk his ear off and would mostly be met with small hums and noises of agreement which was more than enough for you. You were content with being the conversationalist for the both of you, filling him in on updates in your personal life that he would never in a million years ask for.

Tom had now planned you into his routine, it would feel out of place for him to be wandering between classes without you blabbering by his side, gossiping to him about all the drama between your other friends. It was mostly boring gibberish to a scholar such as himself, but deep down he would admit some of the secrets you’d told him were more than interesting to find out; valuable information to possibly hold over people’s head later in life.

___

It was supposed to be a normal wednesday afternoon, you’d end up meeting him in the corridor as he left Herbology and you coming from Magical Creature Studies. You would then chatter in his ear about your class, which he had little to no interest in, creatures of all kinds didn’t pique his interest regardless of if they were magical or not. You would follow him to the Great Hall for dinner before separating for the night. Nevertheless, he found himself hesitating as you were nowhere to be seen. You hadn’t informed him of a change in schedule and he wasn’t aware of you being sick and out of classes either. He only stopped for a moment, spying other students around him. A deep frown settled on his face, why did this feel so wrong?

Trying to keep his thoughts clear, he continued on his journey to the Great Hall, ignoring the lingering concern in the back of his mind at your absence. Once headed to the Slytherin table to take his usual seat, he was very surprised to find you sat there in deep conversation with Orion Black. He didn’t stop, kept walking to his seat which was about 3 feet away from the two of you. He had to force himself not to look at you, troubled as to why he even cared? So what if you were talking to Black, the guy he’s heard many of the sixth year girls label the ‘hottest guy in the year’. He didn’t care. He didnt care that over the course of the next week you had failed to meet up in certain locations as per usual. He didn’t care that you were sat with Black in the library giggling to each other instead of chatting his ear off whilst he sat in silence. He didn’t care that he’d barely got a smile or nod of the head passing in the corridor from you. He didn’t care about any of that and he definitely didn’t miss you.

By the time Potions class came around once more, Tom had a week’s worth of anger and jealousy (though he wouldn’t admit it) bottled up inside of him. He walked into the classroom and stared at the back of your head as you sat in your usual spot, right next to his. He remained silent and stoic as he sat down, keeping his things in a neat pile in front of him. You turned to smile at him, “Hey Tom! How’ve you been?” Tom acted as if you weren’t there, he didn’t turn his head even slightly to acknowledge you. He didn’t even blink at your words. You waved your hand in front of him, “Hello? Anyone there?” You laughed half-heartedly as you joked, the sound dying off as he continued to stare ahead. You followed his eyeline to see if there was something you were supposed to be looking at but it was just Slughorn’s desk which was currently unoccupied by said professor.

His silence stung you, dejectedly making you turn to face the front of the classroom as well. You placed your hands in your lap and fiddled with the fabric of your skirt, biting your bottom lip and lightly bouncing your leg to try and stop any negative emotions from bubbling up. You looked down, at least when he was insulting you, he at least thought of you as worthy enough to speak to. This somehow hurt more, that he was completely ignoring you. Eyes darting around the room, you spied an empty seat next to a Hufflepuff girl you were sort of friends with. Slughorn was at the door greeting others entering the classroom. Quickly gathering your things, you made it over to sit next to her and began making small talk to try and cover up that your feelings were hurt. Only once you left did Tom glance your way. He recognised your fidgeting as a sign that he’d upset you and he was all too annoyed to realise that it hadn’t made him feel better. If anything, he felt even worse now. There was a small ache in his chest at the idea that he had hurt your feelings. It was an unfamiliar ache, he found it bizarre and not a sensation he would be willing to experience again anytime soon.

He remained alone for the rest of the Potions class, scowling and glaring at the book in front of him as though it was the cause of all his misery. As soon as the bell rang to indicate the changing of classes, Tom was all too eager to pack his things and leave, not wanting to chance the idea of bumping into you on the way out.

Deep down he knew he was being somewhat childish but his ego was bruised and he was having to come to terms with the fact that he was struggling to go a single class without being tormenting by the thought of you. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have accused you of slipping him a love potion. But he was far too careful of his surroundings for you to have been successful in such an attempt. No, the cause was a much more complicated realisation. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, as much as he tried to deny it to himself, he had feelings for you and he missed you.

As he lay in his bed in the Slytherin dorm room, wide awake while the symphony of soft snores and heavy breathing filled his ears, he contemplated his options regarding you. He thought about cutting you completely out of the picture, going ‘cold turkey’ from you, as though you were his addiction and he just a lowly junkie waiting to feed off your presence. But those thoughts made his head hurt, caused his chest to tighten in a painful way. The simple truth was, you’d forced your way into his life and he didn’t want to get rid of you.

Hold on a moment.

Tom’s brow furrowed as he thought to himself, why did he have to get rid of you? Surely, he could just get rid of the competition, so to speak. If all he wanted was your full attention once more, then it was Black he needed to eradicate, not you. Yes, he thought as he settled into his covers preparing himself for sleep, that was a much better idea.

He had awoken with a newfound sense of determination. His plans in motion had been set askew and now he just needed to correct them. Perhaps you would come to regret the day you ever sat next to him in Potions class, but it was far too late for that. You had made the mistake of wriggling into his cold heart and you had to pay for that mistake. By never allowing your affections to stray from his side, he could be satisfied. For a little while.

Tom waited until the end of classes that day to catch up with you, not wanting to leave you the excuse of an upcoming class to escape him. It hadn’t taken him long to find you, like him you were a creature of routine and every evening you could be found wandering the halls by the Hufflepuff common room. You’d once confessed to him that you found the paintings to be extra friendly near there, always speaking to them. He had fought to roll his eyes at you at the time, thinking what a waste of precious time to be stood talking to paintings. But his memory served him correct and there you were, stood with your arms behind your back as you walked, smiling at all the paintings before you. He didn’t hesitate to approach you, the soft sounds of his shoes clicking against the hard floor in the empty hallway alerting you to his presence. You turned around and he couldn’t help but compare you to a deer in headlights at how shocked you were, before mentally cursing himself for using such a muggle turn of phrase.

“T-Tom? Fancy seeing you here, I thought you didn’t like these paintings.” Tom gave the works of ‘art’ a brief glance, “I enjoy some paintings, these ones however do not pique my interest in the slightest. No, it is you I’m interested in.” Your eyes widened almost impossibly, as though they were going to bulge out of your head before a wave of confusion and slight anger rose to the surface to overtake all other emotions, “Me? So yesterday you can’t even bring yourself to look and me and today you’re confessing feelings for me? What’s up with that?”

“I never said I had feelings for you.” His stoic expression had you swallowing past a lump in your throat as you realised he was right, he hadn’t said that at all. “O-Oh, well anyways I really must be going, things to do, people to see, you know how it is.” Feeling your cheeks start to burn from the embarrassment, you swiftly turned on your heel and began speed walking away from him. You chewed on your lip, for Merlin’s sake, that was so embarrassing! Too focused on cursing yourself out for letting yourself slip up like that, you weren’t paying attention to where you were walking, or who you were walking into.

A grunt sounded in your ears as you collided into a hard body as you turned the corner. Had it not been for the hands that grabbed your waist, you would have fallen back to the floor. You looked up to see who you had bumped into and you smiled seeing Orion in front of you. “Watch out (Y/L/N), there’s easier ways to get me to fall for you, you know.” You laughed, lightly pushing at his shoulder taking a step back from his intimate hold, “Yeah right, as if.” But Orion took the extra step with you, following you, “Why not? You’re very pretty, and smart. I’m sure it wouldn’t take you long to have me at your feet.” You awkwardly laughed at his words, what the hell? Where was this coming from? Whilst you couldn’t help blushing at his forwardness, you suddenly felt like a little lamb underneath a starved wolf the way Orion was looking at you. “Oh I don’t think so, b-besides I’m taken!” You blurted out, hoping he would believe you.

Black raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow as he got further into your personal space once more, “Oh really, and who by?” Orion made a move to touch your face but just as his fingers grazed your skin, his wrist was grabbed in a harsh grip. “Me.” The incredibly familiar deep voice behind you had your head snapping to the side to see Tom glaring down at Orion. Orion looked startled to say the least, trying to pull his hand away out of Tom’s vice-like hold. He didn’t budge, “You even think of looking in her direction again and I’ll kill you.” His eyes showed every ounce of his sincerity behind his threat, letting the words sink in before he let go of Orion, watching him scurry away down the hall, back to his gaggle of ‘friends’ that had left him behind.

He turned his gaze back to you who was staring up at him with flushed cheeks and something in your eyes, possibly admiration? His eyes meeting yours had you looking down at the floor, “Thank you Tom, you didn’t have to do that, you know Black is a huge gossip, he’ll tell the whole school we’re in a relationship by tomorrow lunch.” He watched you chew on your lip after you finished speaking, nervously awaiting his reaction. You expected him to lash out at you, but you only heard a soft hum from him. In confusion, you raised your head to look at him again, “You’re not angry?” Tom made a point of looking you up and down. The intensity of his stare had your cheeks reddening even more and your heart racing. “No. It’s true that your heart belongs to me and I intend to keep it that way.”

Tom started walking off as if he hadn’t just scrambled your entire brain. You spluttered behind him as you rushed to catch up with him, “You can’t just say things like that! My heart is not yours! You’re so big headed.” Tom stopped to fully face you, walking towards you with his long strides that had you scurrying backwards until you were backed up against the wall. He placed a hand above your head and leaned down, relishing in the way your head tilted back to maintain his gaze and the way your chest rose with each shaky breath. His head moved in closer to yours, so close you could feel his breath on your lips. His voice was soft as he spoke, “Deny it again.” Your mouth opened by no words came out, as though your voice had been taken from you. A few moments passed and you had still yet to form any words. Tom smirked as he made the bold move of brushing his lips over yours, being pleasantly surprised by how soft they were. He turned his head to place his mouth next to your ear, “I thought as much. You are mine, (Y/L/N), and I do not share.” And with that he stood up and walked off, leaving you alone against the wall to process the mind-boggling past five minutes. You leaned your head back against the cold brick, now just what had you gotten yourself into?

A/N: Look at me clearing out all my drafts 🤭

[theambitiouswoman]

The Neuroscience of being delusional

The human brain is not just a logic machine, it’s a belief engine. And when you choose to believe in a reality that doesn’t exist yet, you’re activating one of the most powerful forces in your biology: which is neuroplasticity

We know that your brain is constantly changing, reshaping itself based on your thoughts, feelings, experiences. This is called neuroplasticity. Every time you repeat a thought whether it’s “I’m a failure” or “I’m going to build a billion dollar company”.. your brain carves a deeper groove in that mental path

The more you believe something, the more your brain makes it true...structurally, chemically, and behaviorally

They’ll call you delusional… until it works

So when you actually believe in your big “unrealistic” dreams, you’re not just daydreaming. You’re rehearsing your future self. This is why you can't believe what you think, if is negative and vice versa being important as well

Because your brain doesn’t distinguish much between what’s real and what’s vividly imagined. This is why elite athletes use mental rehearsal, visualizing themselves winning long before they ever step on the field

When you actually imagine yourself successful, confident, loved, your nervous system reacts as if it’s already happening. These imagined scenarios begin to shape your identity and you start to believe it

This is the science behind manifestation. It is not magic. Not fantasy. It is biology

We’re wired for survival at our core. That means your brain is less concerned with whether something is logical and more concerned with whether it feels safe

That’s why big dreams feel scary. They push you out of your current comfort zone. But when you normalize those dreams, when you talk about them, think about them, surround yourself with environments where they are normal, your nervous system stops seeing them as a threat

It stops resisting and starts building

Delusional belief triggers hope, motivation and drive.. all fueled by dopamine, the neurotransmitter of desire and action. When you believe something big is possible, your dopamine rises, making you more likely to take action toward it

Love science facts!

On the flip side, when you talk yourself out of your dreams, you train your brain to stay stuck in survival mode

So start ignoring negative projections

You’re not too much. You’re just finally thinking big enough Your vision isn’t crazy, it’s brave actually and very healing And "delusional" is just what they call people who see the future before anyone else does

The internet can call it manifestation, but really its your life. if you really believe in something bigger, your brain will build it

So how long does this take?

Your brain starts changing immediately when you begin consistently focusing on a new belief or vision. Keyword here is actually believing guys and rejecting intrusive thoughts the moment you start having them. Intrusive thoughts are normal. Do not think it wont work or give up when they happen. It is about handling them on the spot

0–21 Days: Your brain starts rewiring as you introduce the new belief, but your old patterns still run strong. This is the hardest phase... like I said, resistance, doubt and "this feels fake" moments are normal

21–66 Days: Repetition begins to override old neural pathways. Your nervous system gets used to the new idea. It starts to feel less foreign and more natural

66–90 Days plus: You begin living from the new belief. Your decisions, energy and even identity start aligning with it. This is when you often see results. Not because they appeared all of a sudden, but because you’ve become the version of you who expects and creates them

[velvees-archive]

At 20 years old, Miles Edgeworth’s only mentor tells him never to step foot into his opponent’s territory lest he fail to crush them in court. 4 years later, Edgeworth enters Defendant Lobby No. 1 to warn opposing counsel Phoenix Wright about Redd White’s decisive testimony.

Some post-AAI1 reflections + how Phoenix unravels Miles from the very moment they meet again.

After playing through the original trilogy, up to 4-2 on Apollo Justice, and all of Ace Attorney Investigations 1, I couldn’t help but jot down my (admittedly incomplete) thoughts about Phoenix and Edgeworth’s relationship, especially as it pertains to Miles’ “unraveling,” or his departure from von Karma’s teachings.

We already know von Karma had no love for Edgeworth. Crushing the late Gregory Edgeworth’s legacy under the guise of mentoring his son (and eventually ruining his career at its peak) was von Karma’s last act of hatred towards the departed.

From Miles’ perspective, however, von Karma was an accomplished teacher to whom he owed his gratitude and career’s success. This is important because Edgeworth’s actions are fundamentally motivated by his desire to express his “gratitude,” repay debts, and honor legacies.

His debt to von Karma compels him to strive for the perfection his mentor obsesses over. Achieving perfection takes the form of absorbing von Karma’s teachings, among them the AAI1 screenshot from earlier: only face your opponent in court, and make sure you crush them when you do it.

We know for a fact that the “demon prosecutor” internalizes von Karma’s teachings. He follows them to a T.

So, following 15 years of indoctrination, 4 years of putting the von Karma creed into practice, and an entire childhood AND early adulthood’s worth of gratitude, you’d THINK Edgeworth wouldn’t dare dishonor him…

Until he does, by coming to the defendant lobby to speak to his “enemy.”

Prior to playing AAI1, I thought the impetus for Edgeworth’s character development was 1-3, wherein he reevaluated the facts of the case and helped Phoenix get Dee Vasquez a guilty verdict. I still think 1-3 was the first time he consciously acknowledged the possibility (keyword: possibility) that his prosecutorial upbringing wasn’t..sound…(lmao!)

But with this AAI1 von Karma and Bratworth interaction, I now believe it was 1-2—with Edgeworth subconsciously disregarding his mentor’s teachings and Phoenix acting as the catalyst—that shows us when he first strayed from the path of a Von Karma.

An aside: Do I think AAI1 Bratworth was perfectly characterized? Not at all; he’s much too noble for that era of his life, though I don’t think it affects my case.

Edgeworth is a man full of contradictions. He comes to the defendant lobby to tell Phoenix his case is hopeless, though he has no obligation to disclose—nor has he ever set a precedent of disclosing—decisive witnesses’ information to his opponents.

He tells Phoenix he’ll do anything to get a guilty verdict, yet he warns the defense that his witness’s testimony will be considered infallible, prompting the player (Phoenix) to dissect the following testimonies with more care.

He tells Phoenix not to expect any special treatment from him, yet his very presence in the defendant’s lobby is in direct opposition to his respected mentor’s wishes.

It takes just one appearance from Phoenix for the filaments of von Karma’s indoctrination to unravel. 4 years into his career, Edgeworth has met many attorneys—most notably, Mia Fey—who embody Phoenix’s faith in his clients, yet none could shake his foundations like Phoenix Wright.

Edgeworth may have not been ready to turn a new leaf upon his first encounter with Phoenix, but the fact that a loose thread from his childhood (that’s emblematic of his innocence, his dreams, and dare I say his father’s drive) ultimately leads to his unraveling is poetry if I’ve ever seen it.

TL;DR Phoenix deconstructs Edgeworth like he was born to do so. The moment Phoenix decided to chase after him, Edgeworth had already lost.

[thefemigirl]

★ Reset Your YouTube

With the new year approaching, there’s a buzz in the air. It’s the perfect time to reflect on where we’ve been and where we’re heading. This year doesn’t have to look like the last one. If you’re planning a glow-up, stepping into a new mindset, or just becoming the person you’ve always wanted to be, here’s a method that can genuinely change the game: your YouTube feed.

Let’s be real, YouTube isn’t just entertainment. It’s also one of the most powerful platforms for self-improvement and learning. But if your feed is filled with videos that no longer serve your goals, it’s time to take charge and reset.

▸ Step 1: Unsubscribe From the Old You

First things first, go through your subscriptions and be brutally honest with yourself. Ask, “How often do I watch content from this channel? Does this align with who I’m becoming?”

Don’t worry about missing out. This isn’t about cutting off enjoyment—it’s about making space for growth.

Personal Example: I used to be subscribed to a lot of gaming channels because they were my go-to for entertainment. But now? I’m focusing on building my best self, so I said goodbye.

▸ Step 2: Hit the Reset Button

If you’re ready to go extreme (and trust me, this works wonders), delete your YouTube watch history. This is your ultimate clean slate.

Here’s how: Go to your YouTube settings, click “Manage All Activity,” and clear your watch history.

Why this works: YouTube’s algorithm will stop showing you videos based on your past habits. This means no more random recommendations that pull you back into old habits.

Pro Tip: Pair this with your new subscriptions to train the algorithm into showing you content that inspires and uplifts.

▸ Step 3: Subscribe to the Future You

This is the fun part. Fill your feed with creators who embody the energy you want to bring into the new year. Look for channels that motivate you, teach you, and align with your goals for 2025.

Being a femi girl, I will recommend some channels that are personally helping me upgrade myself:

Tam Kaur ▹ link

Alonna Elaine ▹ link

Bahja Abdi ▹ link

Adama Lorna ▹ link

Maya Galore ▹ link

Jillz Guerin ▹ link

Kisha Alejandra ▹ link

Thewizardliz ▹ link

Estelle Richter ▹ link

Simonesquared ▹ link

How to Find More: Search for videos with keywords like “level up,” “self-improvement,” “becoming her,” or “glow up in 2025.” Spend time exploring until you find creators who truly resonate with your vision.

▸ Step 4: Set Boundaries for Entertainment

It’s okay to watch fun and lighthearted content too, but be intentional. Ask yourself, “Is this adding value to my life?” If not, consider limiting your time with it.

Create playlists: Dedicate a playlist to motivational and growth-oriented videos. This will be your go-to space when you need a boost.

Schedule your entertainment: Watch for enjoyment, but don’t let it consume hours that could be spent learning or creating.

Resetting your YouTube feed might seem like a small change, but trust me, it’s powerful. When you surround yourself with content that aligns with your goals, you’re reinforcing the mindset and habits that will take you there!

So, I wish you the best of luck,

[littlexdeaths]

what are friends for? - e.m.

best friend eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: period talk/period blood, eddie is the sweetest as always, grinding, fingering, one singular use of daddy

a/n: thank you to @callsignraver for the title idea 🤭 the eddie edit was made by me! you can use it, just please credit my side blog (strangergraphics), if you do. now enjoy xx.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me,” he sounds so sincere, which is why you can’t even look at him.

Because looking at him would just open a set of floodgates that you aren’t prepared to deal with right now.

Looking at him is only going to fuel the fire that is raging in your lower abdomen— that was lit the moment you stepped foot in the trailer.

A fire that he’s been steadily stoking with each brush of his fingertips against yours as you reach for more popcorn. Or when his knee bumps casually into yours as he shifts on the small sofa.

Which for someone as fidgety as Eddie Munson— was a lot.

“I promise I’m not gonna laugh or anything, just tell me what’s wrong.”

Your best friend had been able to pick up on the shift in your mood almost immediately. But he chose not to comment on it until now, unable to handle it any longer.

But how in the hell were you supposed to tell him that it’s his fault? That he’s driving you crazy?

That you want nothing more than to have his fingers buried inside you?

“You wouldn’t get it,” you sigh, shifting your body further away from him on the sofa.

Clinging onto the arm for dear life as you pretend to watch the clash of light sabers on the tv screen.

His snort has your eyes rolling.

“Try me.”

Your hands move up to rub your temples, eyes slipping shut.

“It’s a dumb girl thing—”

He jumps up off the sofa before you can even finish your sentence, returning from the bathroom mere moments later with a bottle of Advil in tow.

Eddie doesn’t register your confused expression as he stands before you, holding out the bottle.

“Cramps, right?” he asks, a kind smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You feel embarrassed, because of course that’s what he would think. He’s heard you drone on and on about it over the years. He only wants to help, like the kind friend that is he is.

Friend, being the keyword here.

“I um…” you mumble, taking the bottle from his outstretched hand.

You attempt to ignore the heat that continues to pool in between your thighs as you stare at the veins protruding from his hand. The way his thick fingers were previously gripping onto the pill bottle.

How they would feel gripping your inner thighs….

No. Stop it.

You mentally scold yourself, chewing on your lower lip as he takes a seat on the sofa.

“I appreciate it, but that’s not the issue.”

Now he’s the one who looks confused, leaning forward as he scratches at the stubble on his jaw.

“Then what is it?” he prods.

Eddie knocks his knee into yours again, tingles shooting up your spine from the subtle touch.

“It’s just, I’m feeling…”

“Tired?”

“No.”

“Bloated?”

“No!”

“Hangry—”

“Horny!” you shout, startling you both, “I’m horny.”

Your voice has gone soft, a near whisper compared to your previous volume. The air around you is suddenly thicker, and you are once again unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh,” he says after a long pause.

“Yeah, oh.”

You feel the tips of your ears warming as you continue to stare down at your lap. The beginning chords of the imperial march are the only thing filling the uncomfortable silence between you.

“I mean, I could always help you,” he replies finally.

His words cause your eyes to shoot up in surprise, your head turning to meet his molten hues.

“That’s— I wouldn’t ask you to do that, Ed.”

His ringed hand suddenly reaches over to rest on your knee, fingers slipping beneath the rips in your jeans.

“What if I want to?”

Now you’re the one rendered speechless.

“What if I have wanted to… for a long time,” he continues, his other hand reaching up to cup your cheek.

His thumb brushes over your lower lip, determination in his eyes as he leans further into your space. You can’t help how your body gravitates towards him, your hands clutching onto the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

You can feel the way his breath mingles with yours, nicotine and movie theater butter. But it’s the flecks of honey in his eyes that break down your remaining defenses.

You answer him with a kiss, lightly pressing them to his. Testing the waters. Eddie eagerly deepens it, pulling you in closer until you’re in his lap. Your thighs bracket his hips, his hands encircling your waist.

The kiss becomes heated, faster than either of you are prepared for. You lower your hips harder onto his lap, inhaling his soft gasp as your bodies meld together. His grip tightens on your hips as you eagerly grind yourself against his crotch, welcoming the friction.

“Hold on, baby.” He groans again, his large hands stopping any further movement.

Baby.

He’s never called you that before.

Your lower lip juts out in a pout as he maneuvers you off of his lap, and back onto the soft cushions of the sofa. The male quickly sinks to his knees, his hands splaying across the tops of your thighs as he works himself between them. He chuckles at your expression, shaking his head slightly.

“Patience, pretty girl,” he hums as his hands slide further up your thighs until they reach the button on your jeans. “Let’s get these off, yeah?”

Your nerves suddenly kick back into gear, despite the flames continuing to lick your skin. Eddie has become so tuned into your emotions over the years that he can sense this new shift immediately. This was an emotion he has seen plenty of times, but it was never because of him.

The notion has his hands freezing as they hover over the closure of your jeans.

“Shit, did I do something wrong?”

You quickly shake your head, letting out a nervous laugh. “I just… don’t wanna make a mess.”

His expression softens as you gesture to the tan sofa beneath you. The male rises to his feet without another word, darting over to the laundry basket that is seated on top of their washing machine. He digs through a pile of clothes until he finds whatever he’s searching for.

A dark maroon towel.

He clutches the soft fabric in his hands as he makes his way back to you, resuming his previous position between your legs. He sets it next to you, his brown eyes nervously shifting between your thighs and your face.

“You can touch me, Eds,” you say, carefully taking his hands in yours to guide them up to the clasp on your jeans.

Eddie doesn’t need to hear anything else.

He makes quick work of removing your jeans, tugging the denim down your thighs. His eagerness has you giggling, the tops of his cheeks flushing a light pink even in the muted light.

He pauses for a moment, leaning back as he drinks in your newly exposed skin. His eyes darken even further as his calloused fingers grip the hem of your cotton panties.

“God, take them off— please,” you whine, no longer caring if you sound pathetic.

You’ve waited far too many years for this to happen, and your patience has finally run out. Eddie chuckles, sliding your panties (pad and all) down your thighs. The male carelessly tosses them over his shoulder, ignoring your small protest.

“Lift up,” he hums, motioning you to guide your hips up.

He easily slides the towel beneath you, letting your body relax against the plush material. Eddie gently rests his hands over the tops of your thighs once more, beginning to spread them even wider. Your cheeks warm as his eyes zero in on your core, whining softly as he licks his lips.

“Christ,” he breathes, inhaling deeply as he notes the way your arousal shines in the glowing light of the tv.

He leans back for a moment, dark eyes flicking up to meet your gaze as he slowly slides each of those gaudy rings off his fingers. Eddie takes his time in doing so, the clink of metal echoes in your ears as he gathers them in his palm.

“Gimme your hand,” he says softly, but the command in his voice lingers all the same.

You hold out your left hand towards him, ignoring the way it trembles as he begins to slide each of his large rings onto your fingers. His dimples indent his cheeks as he grins, carefully lifting your knuckles to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to each one, ensuring that he keeps his eyes trained on you as he does so.

“Keep those safe for me, sweetheart.”

He winks playfully, leaning forward to brush his lips over the bare skin of your shin. His hands hook under your knees, allowing you to drape your legs over his shoulders. His movements have slowed drastically, taking his time before his fingers finally dip between your thighs.

Your soft gasp spurs him on, his fingers running through your drenched folds. He gathers your arousal on his fingertips, dragging them up to encircle over your swollen bud. You let your body relax against the couch cushions, allowing your eyes to slip shut as he continues his gentle touches.

But as soon as his touch starts— it stops just as fast.

A whine spills past your lips as his large hands wrap around the meat of your thighs and squeeze.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he coos, pressing his lips to the curve of your knee.

His teeth lightly nip at the skin there, causing your eyes to flutter back open.

“Yes, sir,” you giggle as he groans.

His fingers are back on you before you have time to mention his reaction, circling your entrance before dipping inside slowly. It causes your breath to hitch, his middle finger able to stretch you out better than any of yours ever have.

Eddie curses under his breath as he adds another, your body almost greedily sucks him in. Your hand instinctively reaches forward to grip onto his bicep. The rings that adorn your hand are biting into his skin, the thought alone makes his jeans impossibly tighter.

“God, you’re so wet,” he moans, guiding his fingers even deeper inside you.

You reply with a soft whine, your thoughts entirely too jumbled to provide him with anything else. His eyes have momentarily dropped from your face to where his fingers are nestled inside you. He slides them back out, admiring the sticky pink mixture that’s coating his thick digits.

“Eddie, don’t tease,” you huff, guiding your hips back towards his awaiting hand.

Your impatient attitude has him chuckling, those dark hues flicking up to meet yours again.

“Oh, you want these back, baby?” He taunts, his other hand gripping onto your thigh as he eases three of the digits inside your entrance.

The brunette holds them there, enjoying the way your body begins to squirm beneath him. Taunting you.

“Go on, say it, sweetheart.”

He raises a brow at you, slightly pushing his fingers in deeper, before he quickly retracts them with your continued silence. Repeating the action.

“I want…” you start, but the curl of his fingers makes you lose your train of thought.

“Hmm, you want what?” he prods.

He completely removes them from your entrance, ignoring your pleading eyes as he slides them back up to dance around your clit.

Your soft mewl of his name does nothing to deter his actions, it only slows them.

“Come on, use that pretty little head of yours,” he hums as the tips of his fingers graze over your swollen bud.

“God, just— please!” your voice raises an octave, taking on a breathy quality.

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a smirk as he tilts his head at you. His fingers dip lower, circling over your puckered hole.

“Ya know, while I usually prefer something along the lines of master… or even daddy,” he muses, noting how your breath hitches.

“God, sure has a nice ring to it.”

His head falls back as he laughs, a playful pout adorning his lips as you swat at him. Those simmering embers have quickly morphed into a raging fire, ready to engulf you both in the flames.

“Eddie, I swear to God. If you don’t put those fingers back inside me, I will—“

The rest of your threat gets caught in your throat as he thrusts his fingers back in, a strangled moan takes their place.

“See, was that so hard, princess?” he teases.

You don’t answer him, instead grinding your hips down to meet his palm. Eddie pumps his fingers faster, his thumb pressing onto your clit. The wet squelch that follows has him moaning, nuzzling his face against your knee.

Your hand releases his bicep, slipping down his arm to tangle your fingers together. He holds them tightly, beginning to curl the others inside you. The calloused tips brush against your sweet spot, pulling another whine from your throat.

“Oh, right there,” you pant, chest heaving as his thumb firmly massages your clit.

That fire continues to burn brighter with each thrust of his fingers, ready to swallow you whole.

“That’s it,” he grins, watching in awe as you make a mess of his fingers, streaks of red and pink dripping down his knuckles.

“Makin’ such a mess f’me, baby.”

You barely register his words as your back arches up off the sofa. Your eyes squeeze shut as white hot pleasure bursts behind your eyelids. His rings dig into your skin from how tightly you’re grasping him, legs trembling as he coaxes you through your high.

Your ears are ringing as you finally collapse into the lumpy cushions, whining as he continues to gently thrust his fingers inside you.

“Come ‘ere,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open to meet his.

His cheek is smushed against your inner thigh, only breaking your heavy lidded stare to slide his fingers out of you. He hums, carefully lifting his fingers towards the dim light from the tv. He rubs them together, gazing in utter fascination at the sticky strings they leave behind.

You already miss his warmth, tugging playfully on his unruly curls to grab his attention. He chuckles, wiping his fingers on the towel beneath you before he’s hovering over your body. Hips pressed into yours, not caring if you make a mess on the front of his pants.

“Thank you,” you whisper, twirling one of his curls around your ringed finger.

“No need to thank me, sweetheart.” He grins down at you, his dark eyes almost sparkling.

“Besides…” he pauses, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. “What are friends for?”

tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @undead-supernova @munsonhoneybaby @hippiegoth97 @cinemabean @strangerstilinski @corrodedcorpses @curlyjoequinn @mugloversonly @eddiesxangel @hellfirenacht @splendiferous-bitch @razzeith @aleisashortcake @ali-r3n @eddie-is-a-god (i tried tagging you i promise 😭)

[fishnapple]

The purpose of your life, why you're here

This reading is about finding the purpose of your life, why you're here, your current reincarnation (if you believe in reincarnation), or your soul, what you're born into this world to experience. All 6 groups share a similar theme of reaching your highest potential and having the focus on connections.

A similar reading was also done by @claudiafrankie, you can check out their reading here

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

ROSE QUARTZ

Keywords: inspiration, leading, expansion, mastery, mental power, innovation, connection to the psyche

I see the theme of big vs small, how we define our life, give meaning to it. Are we just a tiny entity that exists in the sea of existence, or are we the whole universe, embracing everything?

In your life, you will encounter many instances where you're asked to step forward, step outside, go out of your comfort zone. You will be put into experiences that tell you how knotted your life has been and how much it could unravel into something more spontaneous. There's a fight between wanting to focus on the physical plane, doing daily tasks perfectly, concern yourself with details, with what is happening around you and the need to do something bigger, having more impact and influence, to make a change to the world, to live the life you dream about. Confinement vs freedom.

You have a lot to tell, so much to share, so much to experience. At your core, you're an adventurer, a nomad, life is a journey that you need to keep moving. You want to achieve great things, leave a mark in this world and receive adoration from people. But the first step in your journey will be facing your wounds. They are the door that stands between you and the freedom outside. Are you ready to turn the doorknob and push that door? In the past, in your past lives, you might have experienced confinement, mentally, physically, spiritually. You kept standing there and facing the door but didn't decide what to do. So in this life, you're given a choice to choose again.

You might think the components to your success in life are outward actions, ambitions, and material achievements, showing how capable you are. Your mind is buzzing with ideas, with the future, always looking for a new way to do things better, to perfect what you're focusing on, like a windshield wipers working tirelessly on a stormy day. The next piece of information, the exciting new discoveries, the buzzing trends, they busy your mind until it becomes fatigued and obsessed.

Your purpose of this lifetime is to learn how to rest, when to stop, and how to use the information and resources you have gathered to build yourself up effectively. What defines you is not how much you have, how good you are at certain jobs, but how you master yourself and become the highest aspiration of yourself.

To do that takes patience and understanding of yourself. Turning inward, curbing the restless mind and impulses. You might be someone who is quite impatient or impulsive, wanting to execute right away the idea you have in mind, what you think of should be what you have, expecting results and excellence quickly, if things don't go well from the first try, you want to give up and change direction, change the method without giving the old ones enough time to develop. If you are this person, then life will give you many opportunities or challenges to slow you down, the more you try to act, to fix things, tossing ideas everywhere, going around in many directions at once, the more likely you are to be confined and forced to make a clear choice and commit to it. And you will have to choose wisely. How do you do it? By facing that door, those wounds, see how they are projected into your surroundings, your relationships with people, how you go around, anywhere, just to avoid them.

You're given a good pair of eyes (figuratively, or can be literally) to truly see, amidst all those busy movements, a path for yourself. A wide, unexplored path. Pushing the door, stepping out is scary, but you're brave and you will inspire many others to do the same.

LABRADORITE

Keywords: growth, healing, comfort, peace, helping, courage, accepting changes

I see the image of a sword or a cross. Your energy feels young and soft yet resilient and brave. Life gives you many challenges that would forge a sharp and strong blade inside you. The sword here is not for harming or conquest but for protection and striking the lock, through layers of fears that have been imprisoning you for a long time.

Your life is divided or, rather, balanced by two opposing forces and choices. One is the past, the habit, the way you chose to protect your safety. You might have a tendency to go along with other people's wishes or try to avoid direct confrontation for fear of disrupting the peace. This might be one of your defence mechanisms when dealing with life in general. You want to live in peace, quietly go about your way without obstruction and intrusion from outside. This creates a demure aura, in some way, a little submissive or malleable energy. You don't act this way because you want to gain something from other people. You just don't find it necessary to engage in confrontations that lead to dead-end.

The other side is something you're called to embrace more of in this lifetime. Your energy is soft and flowy, like water, but it needs a little solidifying into something more sturdy. It's the hardening of the core self. Hardening here does not have a negative connotation, it's not about building walls around yourself, closing your heart and spirit, acting cold and tough, it's not like that. It's about being more sure of yourself, giving yourself a sturdy and durable foundation, like how a pliable sprout would grow into a robust tree, standing tall and firm on the ground.

Work and career, material achievements will be the ground where you will see yourself grow the most in this lifetime. There will be opportunities and chances for you to break out of your nest and explore. The work environment will be dynamic and full of pleasant surprises. You will find support through the people you work with. A family member might be a crucial figure in your process of becoming the best version of yourself.

I feel a very giving nature, you have so much in yourself, so much to share, that inner abundance, with people, with life. But only when you release the attachments that keep you rooted in constricted safety. There might be hesitancy when trying to think about bigger aspirations, about your life dreams. You might think that those dreams are unrealistic or too far away. Your mind and your heart are going in the opposite direction. Your heart wants to look forward, to the distant, unexplored horizon, while your mind is occupied by anxiety and uncertainty. It's the root of the great divide between your past and your future.

But I think in this lifetime, things will change. Your life is in a great transition period. Events might happen quickly, surprises come more often. What you've been believing in, what you've been doing habitually might suddenly become strange and feel foreign to you. These changes are necessary, you might feel uncomfortable having to depart from what you've been attached to. But if you can muster enough courage to go against the usual, it will be a personal victory for you. You will successfully break the earth above you and shoot up, out of dormancy, to begin a new adventure.

RED JASPER

Keywords: manifestation, beauty, to connect, freedom, commitment, wish vs reality

It feels like you have a starter kit of manifesting love but you haven't learnt how to use them fully yet. Love and other connections will be the focal point of this lifetime for you.

You have a unique power of manifestation. Have you ever had some thoughts and then a few days or some time later, they came true?. Everything could manifest instantly that you might even be scared of your own thoughts, afraid that any "wrong" thought will result in a bad future. If you haven't realised this about yourself, be more mindful and observe how things work around you. Life will feel a lot more magical for you.

One of the reasons why your thoughts are so powerful is because you're given full reign, full freedom to experience this world. It's not something that you can easily realise and put into practise. There's no particular script nor strict rules for you to follow, you just need to experience as many things as possible. The best gift you have in this lifetime is freedom. I think this gift is something hard-earned from countless trials and hardships. The memories of distant pains might still linger somewhere deep inside you, keeping you from fully being free to dream. But no more rules and burdens. This life is meant to be savoured in its vastness. You're a born rebel. Carving your own path, going your own way, never settling, never being fully at ease with the present, always on the lookout for a different future.

And that's where relationships come in. One of the best ways to do that is through relationships and interacting with others. I see a tendency to be hasty or quick to move on when it comes to bonds with other people. With your manifesting ability, combine with your natural charms, you have no problem with meeting and building the connection with someone. But something about commitment might scare you. You might not want to commit because of the fear that your freedom will be lost, or because you put a heavy importance on a commitment that you don't want to step into one too lightly. You might jump, too quickly, into conclusions about some connections. Maybe you would try to find a plausible reason to stop the connection, in the name of practicality and logic, ready to find flaws in the other person, or, on the opposite end, you decide too quickly that this is it, this person is the one and then try to commit, prematurely. It's like you are given something because you wished for it, but then you don't exactly know what to do with it. This will be one of your biggest lessons in this lifetime. To follow through with what you wish for, to commit to something fully and wisely. It's not just romantic relationships but also other relationships, colleagues, friends, families, etc.

There would be two types of people in your life who can guide or lead you into two different directions. They will appear in the form of mentors, someone older or more experienced than you, someone whom you feel you can learn something significant from. One type will encourage you to find your calling, your path. Who will constantly touch your deepest feelings without even trying. They may trigger you, for good or for bad, you would feel their choices of words and actions are dubious and questionable, but there is something undeniably inspiring about them, they push you to be more bold and get in touch with your needs and wishes. While the other type would be someone wanting to dictate every move in your life under the guise of knowing what's good for you. They are powerful, they can make your wishes come true but only if you come under their wings and stay there. You would feel like a child being well taken care of, but your wings will be clipped. Which direction to take is ultimately your choice, you choose whatever to experience, because that's your freedom in this lifetime.

CITRINE

Keywords: uncharted water, discovery, exploration, crossing, in between, balanced, transition

I see your path in this life is going to the unknown, something that you haven't experienced before. You are standing at a gate, a bridge in between two lands. Or, in the vertical sense, you are standing on the dark ground, looking up at the sun, shining bright from above. There are lots of movements, both mentally and physically. In this lifetime, you will constantly move between the two worlds. The inner, dark and cold sea of your private world and the bright, warm air of the outside world. No world is better than other, they need to be their for your life to be in balance, staying in one world for too long and neglecting other will likely result in some events taking place to pull you back into balance.

These two worlds are parallel to each other. The inner world is led chiefly by your mind, they are well organised, block by block, neatly like a library, while the outer world is more dynamic, led by passion and actions. They affect each other in every way, more than you realise. Chaos in the inner thought will likely result in confusion and, in some extreme cases, destruction of the known path. You will stumble upon many paths that are considered strange and out of the norm, but I think you're geared towards them, even unknowingly, your mind has a knack of seeing the unique structure of things, noticing the pattern and the likely outcomes of situations that not many people can. This will help you see more alternatives in life and choose a path that can bring satisfaction to you, in all senses, materially, spiritually, emotionally. This path will likely be an uncharted water, something that not many people have done, there will be many unexplored areas for you to bring in your unique takes.

Another way the two worlds interact with each other is what your inner world needs, the outer world will provide. If you feel anxious and doubtful, haunted by past memories, then you will likely encounter something or someone new who can give you fresh perspectives and encouragement to be brave. If you feel your life is lacking security, you feel low in your self esteem, there will be moments of transformation that bring you closer to what you desire, you will be given opportunities to venture into new territory, meeting new people, getting the support you need to start something. The universe hears your every call and answers back with opportunities, emphasis on the word "opportunities", you won't be given a whole cooked dish, you will be given ingredients to make the dish.

There's an element of settlement. Instead of jumping from place to place, in this lifetime, you need to hold onto something, to make something uniquely yours, something that will be by your side everywhere you go. It could be a legacy, a creation, a lesson, something that lasts. But it's not about stubbornly holding on to something, it has to be integrated into your core being. Throughout life, you will face with many events that will change your perspective drastically, you're not meant to hold on to old beliefs, withered branches that can no longer hold the weight of the birds standing on them. You will constantly meet new people, those that will open your eyes. Foreign people and cultures might fascinate you, somewhere with lots of sunlight, warm hospitality, beautiful scenery and architecture, lots of mountains and flowers. Especially if you're someone who's from a land near the sea, windy and cold, lots of rain and stormy weather. You are a traveller at heart, don't limit yourself to any particular place.

AMETHYST

Keywords: opinion, communication, conflict, to uphold, straightforward, honesty, truth

I don't know why, but upon seeing your spread, the phrase "human comedy" just sprang up in my mind. This life of yours will go through so many ups and downs in regards to connections and relationships. You will experience the full spectrum of them, every facet, every emotion.

You might encounter many situations where you're misunderstood greatly, those will create a very interesting dynamic between you and the world. Interesting might not be the right word, even my choice of word in this reading is muddled up, you might have the tendency to use words that make your intentions seem questionable or odd to people, and they do the same to you. It's like people from different lands from all around the world gathered for a meeting but there's no common language and no one to translate.

Communication will be the point of focus for you. You might struggle to find the right expression, the right words for the things you want to say. Thoughts seem a lot more clear and articulated in your head, but when they are uttered, there's this fog around you that tends to twist and blur the words, making them shift and fuddle. You will need to find a way to clear this fog, to deliver your words in the most direct and straightforward way as much as possible, even at the risk of being blunt and offensive. This might create an obsession or anxiety when communicating. Maybe you want to find the perfect expression, the details, you do notice the tendency of people misunderstanding you so you try so hard to elaborate, which can create the impression of being long winded, rambling or argumentative.

Ideas jump around in your head, constantly born and spread, demand to get out, to be expressed, this forms a rushing energy, impatient tongue. But even with all these misunderstandings, you don't actually offence people. They may perceive you as nitpicking, blunt, or argumentative, but they don't necessarily hate you for it. On the contrary, some even find it amusing and endearing, these people might even intentionally tease or poke at you, it's not malicious, but then again, you also don't read people's intentions too clearly and might perceive these acts of teasing as personal attack. Your reactions would rile those people up even more. Hence, the endless cycles of poking and reacting. The purpose of all of these is to train your resilience of the mind and heart. You should take all of these with good spirit, laugh them off, keep your truth and speak honestly, there's nothing more attractive than that.

On a more serious note, you're reminded to stand firm in your thoughts. I sense that you have so many wisdom to share with the world. Teaching might be a calling for you. Even without actually be in the education field, people can still learn from you, through your unshakable conviction in yourself and the way you speak your truth. It might be intense, it might be difficult to swallow, it might seem strange and outlandish, but nevertheless, it captivates the world through its sincerity.

AVENTURINE

Keywords: artist, bridge, the call, emotional landscape, go with the flow, sensitivity

"Young poet of the moon", "The poet of the soul", those two just appeared in my head upon seeing your spread, so I wanted to write them down. I think those words portrayed you pretty well. Your inner artist heart is beating every moment, it's a force that you can't hide or be ushered into oblivion by some circumstances.

This world needs a lot of people who have a sensitive heart, like you, someone who has the "eyes" to see the beauty in this world, the "ears" to hear its cry and whisper, the "lips" to court it with sweet sweet words. You're here to make people see the world in its naked beauty, helping them realise the small details of living and in the process, elevate their souls.

You offer this world a cup filled with creativity. The way your mind and heart tremble and come alive with all the senses can create striking new creations. The passion for sensuality is there, for the bursting love of life. Sensuality here encompasses a vast spectrum of things, from the aromas of delicious food, the cool and smooth feeling of water lapping over you, the swirling colours of leaves dancing under the sun, the warm and rough feel of someone's hands, ... they are all the materials for you to marvel at, to create, to give back to the world your interpretation of it.

Why did I say "poet" in the beginning? Because you have the gift of gab, your words resonate with people's hearts, because they are spoken from the realm of the unknown inside all of us, we can only be able to catch a glimpse of it here and there, when we allow ourselves to relax and float. You have the ability to connect to that realm , to catch sights of it more often and crystallise those sights into words or messages conveyed by other means. But I sense written words strongly. Even if you do something that isn't related to creativity or the art (but is there anything that truly be detached from creativity?), this gift will still assist you in every endeavour you're in, negotiating, mediating, persuading, counselling, anything that needs these kinds of skills.

Love will play an important role in your life, you're here to experience love in all of its forms, experience all the feelings it can create within us. It won't be an easy journey, heartaches are there, but so is the deepest devotion. You might face delays in love or intense connections that leave lasting marks on your soul. You're not the same person you once were before a connection. These will transform you, plunging you into greater depth and strange waters. But don't be afraid,if you allow yourself to savour the journey, you will arrive at a treasure that many people have been struggling to find. This inexhaustible treasure will provide richness to your life. Also, don't let yourself drowned either, emerge out of the water and share with the world what you've seen. So many people need their hearts touched by a soul such as yours.

[everrinsly]

a/n; friends!! so sorry this took a while. work has been busy so I only have time on the weekends mostly. this is just chaotic energy and crackheads together hehe, very long too, but I hope you like!

a momager and her silly olympic team.

2x spicy buldak… and ref, do something! fluff. fem!reader. | not proofread.

team japan tries the spicy noodle challenge on their lunch break... only to realize they have a game against the team that gave them the buldak... sabotage—?!

more olympic team shenanigans here!

more reads!

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐🇯🇵

It was lunch time for Team Japan, and the chaos should have ended with the final whistle.

Keyword: should have. 

Because if there was one thing Team Japan excelled at, besides volleyball, it was turning carbs and free time into absolute freedom-fueled delinquency—like ‘our mamas ain’t here, so we can do whatever we want because our manager’s an angel’ energy.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐🇯🇵

The match against Canada had just wrapped—gritty, sweaty, loud—but a win was a win. With no immediate press or post-game debrief, most of the boys lingered near the sidelines of the court, sprawled out across the floor, jerseys half on, hair messy, all basking in that post-victory energy and ready to ruin lives with their ‘flirt for fun’ faces for no reason whatsoever.

You and Iwaizumi remained near the bench area, cleaning up athletic tape, recovery wraps, and empty water bottles while muttering about how no one ever put their towels back in the ‘need to be washed’ duffle bag.

“Why are there three banana peels under this seat?” you grumbled, holding one up by the neck. 

“Bokuto,” Iwaizumi said flatly.

Of course.

You let out a long-suffering sigh and raised your voice just a little. “Bo…?”

There was a pause before Bokuto poked his head around the bench, already wearing his best ‘I didn’t mean to’ face.

“I told you to use the trash bag,” you said gently, walking over with the peels still dangling. “I even labeled it for you.”

“You… did?” Bokuto blinked.

You nodded, holding up the clear plastic bag with the words ‘Team Japan’s BANANA GRAVEYARD’ written in bold marker and covered in dramatic doodles of haunted fruit.

“Oh… I thought that was a joke!” Bokuto said, genuinely distraught. “Like, I thought it was haunted bananas… not actual trash!”

“It was haunted,” you said pointedly. “By your mess.”

Bokuto let out a tragic little whimper and slumped against the bench like someone had told him the Olympics were canceled.

“Hey, hey,” you cooed, reaching out and gently fluffing up the front of his hair where it had flopped sadly forward. “It’s okay. You’re not in trouble.”

“You’re not mad?” he asked, peeking up at you.

You grinned. “No. But I am mildly haunted.”

“Haunted by bananas?”

“By your inability to read labels.”

Behind you, Iwaizumi muttered, “And the fact that I stepped on one earlier.”

Bokuto gasped. “Wait—Iwa, are you okay—?!”

“No, thanks to you and your potassium trail of doom,” he grumbled.

You giggled and gave Bokuto’s hair another little spike. “There. Emo mode off. Crisis averted.”

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐🇯🇵

And then it happened. 

It started with one sentence from Hinata.

“Let’s do the spicy noodle challenge!”

You and Iwaizumi paused mid-trash bag tie.

“No,” you said immediately.

“I second that,” Iwaizumi added without looking up. “You’ve got a second match in a few hours. Eat something that won’t destroy your stomach lining.”

But did Hinata listen?

Absolutely not.

He was already pulling something out of his gym bag with the sort of smug pride only a man planning his own funeral could wear.

Three big red packets of 2x Spicy Buldak Noodles.

“Where did you even get those?” you asked suspiciously, walking over as the rest of the boys gasped and leaned in.

Hinata beamed, waving the crinkled black and red packaging. “A South Korean player gave them to me! He said they’re only mildly spicy—mostly sweet!”

“Sweet?” Sakusa echoed, eyeing the warning labels printed in bold red across the back. “‘2x Spicy’ doesn’t sound sweet.”

“It’s marketing!” Hinata chirped. “You know, to scare people!”

Atsumu snatched a pack from Hinata’s hands. “I’m in. How bad could it be? I’ve had ramen with, like, loads of red pepper before.”

From beside you, Iwaizumi didn’t even look up from where he was crouched near the bench, dragging out an alarming collection of empty protein bar wrappers with a look of pure disappointment. 

“That was chili oil,” he said flatly, flicking a wrapper into a trash bag. “And Osamu made it with extra soy sauce and sugar for you because you’re a wuss.”

Atsumu’s scandalized gasp echoed through the court like he’d just been personally betrayed. “You take that back!”

Iwaizumi stood up, raised an unimpressed eyebrow, and dusted off his hands. “He told me himself. Also said you cried over the level one mapo tofu.”

“I didn’t cry, I sweated with emotion!” Atsumu shot back defensively.

“Oh, yeah?” Suna drawled, shifting just enough to dig into his pocket with one hand, the other lazily resting on Aran’s shoulders. “Because I got a picture.”

“No, you don’t,” Atsumu said instantly, eyes narrowing. “You wouldn’t—”

Suna had already pulled out his phone, casually flipping it around for everyone to see. “Behold. The moment our local golden boy met his match.”

Atsumu lunged. “DELETE IT—”

But it was too late.

The photo was zoomed in perfectly: Atsumu, hunched over the table, red-faced, eyes glassy, lips visibly swollen from spice overload. A single tear tracked dramatically down one cheek. 

“Oh my god,” Komori wheezed, doubling over. “You look like you were going through a breakup and getting pepper sprayed.”

Kageyama let out a little huff. “He deserved every bit of that.”

“I told you to stop slurping,” Aran said, voice muffled with laughter.

“That was an allergic reaction!” Atsumu whined, flailing as Suna tilted the screen toward Ushijima, who blinked and offered a quiet, “You appear to be in great distress.”

“It was emotional damage,” Sakusa muttered.

Atsumu looked deeply offended, like a man wrongly accused in court. “You guys are dramatic. I’ll prove it. I’ll eat the whole thing. No water.”

“Make it two packs then,” Bokuto grinned, ever the instigator. “For science!”

“You people have zero survival instinct,” you muttered, crossing your arms.

“C’mon, sweets,” Hinata strolled up to you with a bounce in his step and the kind of wide-eyed pout that could shatter nations—certainly your self-control. He gave a little tug on your sleeve, swaying side to side like a pleading puppy.

“You gonna deny your favorite boys one little taste adventure?” he asked, voice dripping with mock innocence as his bottom lip wobbled just a little too perfectly.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I know that tone. That’s the ‘I’m gonna start chaos and pretend I didn’t’ voice.”

“What voice?”

And unfortunately, the rest of the team had already latched on.

“Please?” Komori added with puppy eyes that should be banned by the Olympic Committee.

“Yeah, boss,” Aran chimed in with a grin. “What’s a little spice among national treasures?”

You looked at Iwaizumi, defeated.

He met your gaze, entirely unfazed. “They need to suffer.”

“Iwa!

“They’ll learn.”

Spoiler: they didn’t.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐🇯🇵

Within five minutes, the entire national team—grown men, national representatives, your supposed pride and joy—huddled in a ‘not-so-hidden’ corner of the athlete tunnel, squatting and whisper-yelling at each other in a circle like some shady back-alley spice cult. 

They had procured exactly three items:

A Tupperware container that was unmistakably yours—fished from your purse, thank you very much—now clutched in Kageyama’s guilty hands.

A stream of steaming hot water being poured very seriously from Ushijima’s stainless steel thermos.

And of course, Hinata’s super suspicious packs of 2x spicy Buldak noodles, which he had failed around happily earlier despite it being rather sad-looking because it had also been squashed under Bokuto’s warm-up gear.

You stood a few feet away with Iwaizumi, watching it all unfold with the dulled horror of someone who had simply seen too much idiocy. 

Bokuto had taken it upon himself to stir the noodles with a lone chopstick he found in his duffel bag, wrapped in a napkin of deeply questionable origin. No one knew where it came from. No one dared to ask. 

He twirled the noodles, grinning, face flushed from the steam. “They need to steep.”

Sakusa let out a slow, exhausted sigh, already pinching the bridge of his nose because this was surely shortening his life span by the second. “Maybe close the lid, so it’ll cook better. Like trapping the heat. Like literally every ramen instruction ever written.”

Bokuto blinked. “Oh. That’s smart.”

“It’s basic,” Sakusa hissed.

Kageyama, ever the eager helper, reached for the lid—your poor, warped Tupperware lid—and attempted to snap it shut with the grace of someone who had never handled Tupperware in his life.

It didn’t fit.

The container had puffed up from heat and noodle expansion, and Kageyama just sat there frowning at it, trying to push one corner down. But when he got one side to settle, the other popped up. He kept pressing it down over and over, like that would suddenly solve the problem through sheer brute force.

Eventually, he just gave up and gently placed it on top like a sad little hat.

“Perfect,” he said confidently.

“That’s not even secure,” Sakusa muttered.

“It’s a metaphorical lid,” Komori offered helpfully.

“For what? Failure?” Sakusa snapped.

But before the said metaphorical lid could settle, Bokuto had already popped it off again—completely disregarding whatever steam had managed to build—and eagerly jabbed at the noodles with his lone chopstick. “Hey, they’re… kinda soft now.”

“They’re crunchy,” Aran said flatly. “Still literally crunchy. That’s not cooked.”

“They have texture,” Bokuto argued.

“They have resistance,” Sakusa corrected.

“That’s called ‘al dente,’ right?” Atsumu added, peering in and instantly tearing up from the rising steam. “Ow, it bit me.”

You pressed your hand to your forehead. “It’s just steam, ‘Tsumu.”

“It’s violent steam, like steam with knives, ya feel?”

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐🇯🇵

Regardless of common sense, they had declared the noodles done, which meant it was time for the sauce.

A moment of triumph hung in the air. Bokuto was bouncing. Hinata had already torn open the terrifyingly red sauce packet with his teeth.

And then—

A real question suddenly emerged. 

“Alright, smartasses,” Iwaizumi said dryly, watching them prepare to stir in the sauce. “You think that’s how you prepare Buldak noodles?”

The boys paused.

“...What do you mean?” Kageyama asked, blinking.

“You gonna strain it?” Iwaizumi prompted, raising a brow. “Before adding the sauce?”

“...Strain?”

“We need to strain?”

“What do you mean strain?”

“What’s strain?”

There was a beat of silence as all of Team Japan collectively realized they had, in fact, not thought that far ahead.

“That’s a really good point,” Aran muttered, squinting down at the sad, floating noodles sloshing weakly in the Tupperware. 

Then—

“I have knowledge,” Ushijima said gravely.

Everyone turned.

“Of course you do,” Sakusa muttered under his breath, folding his arms.

Ushijima stood up and took a step forward, hands behind his back like a professor about to give a lecture. “I have watched multiple mukbangs on South Korean noodle preparation. You must leave approximately three tablespoons of cooking water in the container and strain the rest. This particular flavor, 2x spicy Buldak, is intended to be eaten as a dry noodle.”

“Dry?” Bokuto asked, blinking. “Like… no soup?”

“It is a stir-style ramen,” Ushijima continued, unfazed. “The concentrated sauce is meant to cling to the noodles. If you eat it as a soup, the spice dilutes and the flavor profile is compromised.”

“Flavor profile,” Suna whispered, staring at Ushijima in awe.

“That was beautiful,” Komori murmured, clutching his chest.

“What the hell do you mean you’ve watched mukbangs?” Atsumu demanded.

“I find them calming,” Ushijima replied without hesitation.

“Ushi-ushi,” Hinata said reverently, mouth slightly open. “You’ve been holding out on us.”

“Should’ve led with that,” Aran added, elbowing him.

There was a collective moment of quiet—of respect, of finally realizing Ushijima Wakatoshi was the secret mukbang master of Team Japan.

But then—

“…Wait,” Kageyama said, brow furrowed. “What do we strain it with?”

The second silence that followed was painful.

Until Suna, unbothered as ever, casually leaned over to his duffel bag. “Got it.”

He pulled out a tennis racket.

There was a pause.

A long one.

“…What the actual fuck—?” Atsumu finally whispered.

“Why do you have that?” Aran asked, scandalized.

Suna just shrugged. “Got bored during training week. Komori and I were playing tennis with rolled-up socks.”

“I won,” Komori added proudly.

“It’s… technically a strainer,” Hinata offered. “Holes, surface area, net—”

“No,” Sakusa said sharply. “That’s not how hygiene works.”

Suna walked past him, completely undeterred. “Ushijima, tilt it.”

Ushijima, stoic as ever, picked up the Tupperware and dutifully angled it as Suna positioned the racket over a nearby trash bin.

And to their utter horror, the racket… worked.

Water drained through the strings.

Steam hissed into the air.

One noodle slipped through and plopped into the bin.

“NO!” Bokuto screamed, diving with the kind of desperate reach usually reserved for a match-point receive. “WE COULD’VE SAVED HIM!”

Iwaizumi palmed his face so hard it looked like he was trying to erase it. “This is the dumbest team in Olympic history.”

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐🇯🇵

You were about to respond, probably something sweet and patient and undeservedly kind, when a soft murmur rippled through the stadium speakers.

Unbeknownst to Team Japan, the jumbotrons had caught wind of their ‘we definitely know how to cook noodles, like definitely, for sure’ underground operation.

One of the roaming camera crew had been filming filler footage for the Olympic recap stream. That footage now filled the big screen in the arena, streamed live to all in-stadium monitors, and no doubt, broadcasted internationally.

The commentators, already halfway through wrapping up their post-match discussion, paused.

“Uh…” one of them said, blinking. “Can we get a shot of what’s happening back there with Team Japan?”

The camera zoomed in. 

On Suna. 

Holding a tennis racket like it was Michelin-starred equipment.

“…Is that… is that a tennis racket?” the other commentator asked, voice tilting somewhere between amusement and deep concern. “Why does Suna Rintarou have a tennis racket?”

The first one squinted. “I don’t know, but if he ever plays tennis professionally, I’m betting he’d sweep the league too. Look at that wrist control.”

The feed cut to Bokuto, who was now dramatically mourning the lost noodle with his forehead against the trash bin.

Then it panned to Hinata—wide grin, eyes sparkling—tearing open the fiery red sauce packet and dumping the contents into the still-too-crunchy noodles like he was summoning a demon.

“Oh my god,” one commentator said slowly, as the horrifying realization clicked into place. “Are they doing the 2x Spicy Buldak Noodle Challenge?”

“They have another match in two hours!” the other commentator shrieked. “Who approved this?!”

“Wait a damn—so they use a tennis racket to strain noodles?”

“Holy shit—!”

“Smartest team in Olympic history, don’t you think?”

“I agree. On court and off court.”

Back in the athlete’s tunnel, you and Iwaizumi shared a long, soul-deep sigh as the faint echo of the jumbotron’s live feed filtered into the background.

“We’re on camera,” Iwaizumi muttered, expression murderous.

You patted his arm gently. “Smile. We’re about to go viral.”

From somewhere behind you, Atsumu yelled, “THE SAUCE IS IN! WE’RE EATIN’, BABY!”

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐🇯🇵

Like wolves released into the wild, the boys pounced.

Bokuto was first, poking aggressively at the noodles with the single chopstick he’d been holding this whole time. Aran used two protein bar wrappers he folded into shape, muttering something about “innovation under pressure.” Hinata was just using his fingers, screaming about how it was too hot but refusing to stop. Sakusa stared at them all with the quiet resignation of someone who knew this would end in disaster but had no energy left to fight it.

And then, because chaos had no boundaries, Kageyama dove for your purse again.

“Tobio!” you hissed. “Stop going through my stuff!”

He looked up with absolutely zero guilt. “I’m looking for chopsticks.”

He pulled out the emergency wooden chopstick pack you always kept for lunch breaks. “These’ll do.”

“Tobio—!” you started, hands on your hips, already preparing your Mom Voice™.

But then—then he hit you with it.

Those eyes.

Big, round, slightly panicked but still somehow devastatingly sincere. The classic Kageyama ‘I’m a good boy’ look that you were absolutely not immune to.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he said quickly. “Reusable ones. Pretty. Pink. With… with flowers… or cute little animals on them. Sparkly, if you want.”

You blinked.

And blinked again.

Your heart cracked just a little. “Okay, okay,” you relented with a sigh, trying not to melt. “But only because you offered sparkles.”

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐🇯🇵

The second the boys took their first bites, it was as if the air around them combusted.

Disaster.

“Oh—FUCK—!”

Hinata made a noise like a squeaky bike brake, face flushing crimson in an instant. “HOT—IT’S HOT—I CAN’T SEE!”

Bokuto let out a wheeze so dramatic you thought he was choking. “WHY IS IT—WHY—MY EARS ARE RINGING!”

Aran’s whole soul appeared to evacuate through his tear ducts. “I can feel it in my knees, bro—why my knees!”

Even Sakusa, who’d tried to maintain a shred of dignity, looked personally betrayed by life. “I-I shouldn’t have done this.”

Next to him, Ushijima calmly blinked, face flushed but posture unwavering as he chewed… and chewed… and then slowly reached for his water bottle.

Only to remember: the boys had used all of it to cook the noodles.

He stared down at the empty thermos in silence.

Atsumu hiccuped violently, then immediately hiccup-sobbed again. “WHY IS IT SWEET FIRST AND THEN HELL—!”

Komori was fanning himself with a paper napkin. “My tongue is numb. Am I okay? Look. Do I still have a tongue?”

“SWEETHEART, CAN YA CHECK—”

“NO, SHE NEEDS TO CHECK ME FIRST—”

“ME FIRST, BRO!

Meanwhile, Iwaizumi was already sitting down, arms crossed, watching the entire scene with the stone-faced detachment of a man who had absolutely no sympathy left in his body.

“I hope every single one of you remembers this moment the next time I say ‘don’t do it,’” he said evenly.

“WAIT—IWA!”

“No.”

“IWA, I-I DIDN’T EVEN SAY—!”

“The answer’s no.”

“SHIT—”

You were scrambling—scrambling—around them with your emergency napkin stash, a bottle of water, a sports towel, your poor little hands wiping sweat and tears and (unfortunately) snot from your giant, overgrown crybaby athletes.

“Atsumu, blow. Not sneeze—blow. That’s it, there you go.”

“Rin, stop filming and drink something—no, not more sauce!”

“Sho, sit down, I’ll put the towel on your neck—” 

“Bo—don’t roll on the ground, you’ll get floor-burns.”

“‘Toya, don’t use your fingers to wipe your eyes!”

“Am I still your superstar? Even all snotty and crying…?” Aran asked, voice hoarse and lips trembling as he wiped at his tear-streaked, spice-traumatized face with the back of his hand.

You winced, hesitating just a second too long. “Uhhh…”

Aran’s bottom lip wobbled. “...No?”

And then—blubbering. Absolute tears. His eyes went wide and glossy, and he let out a pitiful noise that might’ve been a sob or a dying dolphin.

“Nononono, yes!” you panicked, grabbing his face with your hands. “Yes, Aran, my superstar! My bright shining, flame-mouthed, sniffling superstar!”

“Really?” he sniffled, hiccuping into your sleeve.

“Really!” you promised, patting his cheeks and frantically trying to dab his forehead with a napkin. “You’re the MVP of emotional resilience, okay?”

From behind you, Atsumu sniffled too. “I wanna be a superstar…”

“No,” Sakusa rasped.

“Yes,” you said instantly, handing him a tissue. “You’re all superstars.”

“Iwaizumi isn’t crying,” Suna pointed out flatly.

“Iwaizumi also didn’t eat the noodles,” you muttered, still wiping spice-tears off Aran’s chin.

“Iwaizumi is the real MVP,” Iwaizumi added helpfully, arms crossed and smug as hell, until his gaze landed on you.

You were crouched between Hinata and Aran, patting one on the back and dabbing the other’s tears with your sleeve, eyes full of concern and hands full of tissues.

His smirk softened slightly.

Then he sighed. Long-suffering. Tired. Kind of affectionate. “You’re enabling them.”

“They’re suffering, Iwa.”

“They deserve it.”

And of course, right when you walked over to pat Kageyama’s flushed cheeks, cooing at him softly while he stared at you with slightly teary eyes and steam practically coming out of his ears—

The jumbotron caught the whole thing.

Again.

The camera slowly zoomed in on you in full caretaker mode, dabbing at red faces and whispering gentle reassurances to each tear-streaked athlete like the world's most patient angel in a sea of spicy regret.

CAPTION—

TEAM JAPAN: UNITED IN SPICE-FUELED SUFFERING. 

Pretty Manager Controlling the Heat Wave. 

Iwaizumi Disappointed.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐🇯🇵

Suna was the first to speak once the chaos died down into sniffly, spice-sweaty whimpers.

“…Hey, Iwa,” he rasped, eyes still red and unfocused, “who are we playing next?”

Iwaizumi, whose only regret in life was saying yes to coaching this exact group of idiots, pulled out the folded match schedule from his pocket and checked it with a sigh.

“South Korea.”

There was a beat.

A long, ominous pause.

Ushijima slowly turned to Hinata, who was curled up on the floor with his head on your lap, trying to breathe through the burn. “Shoyou,” he said calmly, “who gave you the noodles?”

Hinata blinked. “Huh?”

“The noodles,” Iwaizumi clarified, eyes narrowing. “The ones that tried to kill all of you.”

“Oh!” Hinata perked up, then winced. “Right! It was one of the South Korean players. Remember? I told you guys he said it wasn’t that spicy… more sweet...”

There was absolute silence.

Suna sat up straighter—eyes dark, expression calculating. You could practically see the gears in his spice-damaged brain grinding.

“…Wait a damn minute,” he muttered. “They knew. They KNEW.”

“What?” Aran blinked, still crying a little.

“Do you not get it?” Suna hissed, jabbing a finger at the now-empty Tupperware like it was a crime scene. “This was sabotage. Psychological warfare. They wanted us to burn from the inside out before we even hit the court.”

Atsumu stared, slowly putting the pieces together. “Ya think… they tried to weaken us?”

“Poison by spice,” Sakusa mumbled hoarsely. “A very underhanded tactic.”

Hinata’s eyes widened in horror. “Did I get… weaponized?”

“Yes, Sho,” you murmured, gently stroking his hair as he clutched his stomach. “You got used.”

Bokuto gasped, smacking the floor. “This was an international incident!”

Komori looked absolutely scandalized. “Should we call someone? Like the Olympic committee?”

“You can’t prove anything,” Iwaizumi deadpanned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Because you idiots cooked it yourselves.”

Ushijima nodded slowly. “And now I don’t have hot water for my green tea.”

“Do ya think we can tell the ref?” Atsumu croaked, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his jersey. “Like—maybe he’ll go easy on us.”

“He won’t,” Sakusa muttered. “Because that’s not how volleyball works.”

But it was already too late.

Bokuto, eyes wide with a newfound sense of justice and absolutely no impulse control, had taken off down the tunnel at full speed, lungs on fire and pride half-functioning.

“REF!” he bellowed, voice echoing off the walls. “REF, DO SOMETHING! IT WAS A SETUP!”

“No—wait—Bokuto, get back here—” Komori tried, chasing after him.

Iwaizumi didn’t even bother reacting anymore. “Let him go. Maybe they’ll lock him in the penalty box.”

“See?” Atsumu leaned into you, pouting. “We’re unraveling. Spiraling. Don’t you wanna help your favorite setter feel better with, like, a forehead kiss or somethin’?”

Before you could answer, a new presence slid in on your other side.

“Maybe also something sweet,” Suna murmured, voice as dry as ever, “for your favorite middle blocker?”

You gave them both a flat look—one pouting and glistening with sweat, the other looking smug despite the fact his eyes were still faintly watering.

Then you grinned cheekily, sunshine laced in betrayal. 

“No.”

Atsumu blinked, tongue poking out, ready to try again. “...Maybe some… spicy love, ya know. For all that spicy suffering?”

You just shoved a napkin at his face and sighed.

And in that moment—faces red, sinuses cleared, and pride thoroughly shattered—Team Japan rose (or more accurately, staggered) as one.

United in suffering.

Bound by noodles.

Ready for vengeance.

Sort of.