#incredibly smart concept or not

[chewyhanniebug]

THERE SHE IS !! OUR LITTLE EMO BUNNY GF !!

[ceramicbeetle]

listening to the Bogus Journey commentary tracks and hearing winter say that they'd worked bill and ted to embody '9-10 year olds' in the first movie but played bogus journey more as 'failed young adults' like shout out to developmental disabilityyy

[spaghettithighs]

The Bad Opinion Haver has a Bad Opinion - Sneak Attack

So there is at least one person out there who hates rogues in Baldur's Gate 3 and Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition, due to a fundamental misunderstanding of how sneak attacks work. Rather than respond to this person directly (because they blocked me) I thought I'd make the world's most unnecessary PSA instead.

I'm not going to dive much into the stuff about 2nd edition thieves, aside from the fact that it takes a long time to get to level 21, and the output of a low level thief pulling off a backstab are… not as impressive. Regardless:

Sneak attacks do not give you advantage. Sneak attacks make your attacks do a lot more damage -if- you have advantage from another source. That sounds rough, but there are a hundred and one ways to get advantage - such as attacking an enemy who's prone from melee range, or attacking an enemy who's blinded by a blindness spell, or attacking an enemy who's been distracted by an allied fighter's distracting strike, or heck, attacking an enemy while hidden (and rogues can hide each turn as a bonus action).

The extra damage from sneak attack may seem unimpressive- an extra 2 to 12 HP at level 3 (on an attack that deals 4 to 9 HP as standard) isn't a huge boost, but it's still a solid doubling of damage output, and more importantly, it's consistent. Doing an average of 14 damage per round just off of action + bonus action is great for longer fights at that level, when the spellcasters are down to cantrips and even the fighter has exhausted their superiority dice.

Now, to be fair, Rogues did suffer from one unintentional change in Baldur's Gate 3 - in pen and paper 5th edition DnD, rogues can apply sneak attack damage once every combat turn - that means you can get the damage bonus on your turn as a regular attack, and also on someone else's turn, if you can pull off an attack of opportunity or a readied action through some other means. Baldur's Gate 3 has it coded so that the opportunity to perform a Sneak Attack refreshes at the start of a rogue's round, so unfortunately there's no chance to double dip. For that reason (and the fact that options to long rest in BG3 are plentiful), rogues do suffer a bit in the power rankings. They're by no means useless (and definitely not as useless as the Bad Opinion Haver implies), but you do need to work a little harder to make the most of them (or you do what everyone does and build a monstrous assassin/gloom stalker multiclass that gets the kind of absurd backstabs that the Bad Opinion Haver is going for)

As an aside:

It's true that if you perform attack rolls with no consideration for tactics, you're going to miss a lot of them. However, there's a very straightforward mechanic, fundamental to the system, that makes your chances to hit a hell of a lot higher.

It's called advantage.

[suswous]

Genuinely considering getting a copy of Gerald’s Game

[vaspider]

While I'm writing things that I've been intending to write for a while... one of the things that I think that a lot of people who haven't been involved in like... banking or corporate shenaniganry miss about why our economy is its current flavor of total fuckery is the concept of "fiduciary duty to shareholders."

"Why does every corporation pursue endless growth?" Fiduciary duty to shareholders.

"Why do corporations treat workers the way they do?" Fiduciary duty to shareholders.

"Why do corporations make such bass-ackwards decisions about what's 'good for' the company?" Fiduciary duty to shareholders.

The legal purpose of a corporation with shareholders -- its only true purpose -- is the generation of revenue/returns for shareholders. Period. That's it. Anything else it does is secondary to that. Sustainability of business, treatment of workers, sustainability and quality of product, those things are functionally and legally second to generating revenue for shareholders. Again, period, end of story. There is no other function of a corporation, and all of its extensive legal privileges exist to allow it to do that.

"But Spider," you might say, "that sounds like corporations only exist in current business in order to extract as much money and value as possible from the people actually doing the work and transfer it up to the people who aren't actually doing the work!"

Yes. You are correct. Thank you for coming with me to that realization. You are incredibly smart and also attractive.

You might also say, "but Spider, is this a legal obligation? Could those running a company be held legally responsible for failing their obligations if they prioritize sustainability or quality of product or care of workers above returns for shareholders?"

Yes! They absolutely can! Isn't that terrifying? Also you look great today, you're terribly clever for thinking about these things. The board and officers of a corporation can be held legally responsible to varying degrees for failing to maximize shareholder value.

And that, my friends, is why corporations do things that don't seem to make any fucking sense, and why 'continuous growth' is valued above literally anything else: because it fucking has to be.

If you're thinking that this doesn't sound like a sustainable economic model, you're not alone. People who are much smarter than both of us, and probably nearly as attractive, have written a proposal for how to change corporate law in order to create a more sensible and sustainable economy. This is one of several proposals, and while I don't agree with all of this stuff, I think that reading it will really help people as a springboard to understanding exactly why our economy is as fucked up as it is, and why just saying 'well then don't pursue eternal growth' isn't going to work -- because right now it legally can't. We'd need to change -- and we can change -- the laws around corporate governance.

This concept of 'shareholder primacy' and the fiduciary duty to shareholders is one I had to learn when I was getting my securities licenses, and every time I see people confusedly asking why corporations try to grow grow grow in a way that only makes sense if you're a tumor, I sigh and think, 'yeah, fiduciary duty to shareholders.'

(And this is why Emet and I have refused to seek investors for NK -- we might become beholden to make decisions which maximize investor return, and that would get in the way of being able to fully support our people and our values and say the things we started this company to say.)

Anyway, you should read up on these concepts if you're not familiar. It's pretty eye-opening.

[cressidagrey]

Formidable

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)

Summary:  Andrea Stella figures out that Felicity Piastri is more than “just” Oscar’s wife. 

Notes: Big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble and checks my science-y mumbo jumbo 😂

(divider thanks to @saradika-graphics )

It started the way most breakthroughs did—not with a groundbreaking discovery, but with a tired engineer holding a half-wrinkled printout and a hopeful expression.

“Boss,” James said, hovering just inside the doorway of Andrea’s office. “I think you should read this.”

Andrea looked up from his laptop. “If it’s another CFD model from that Reddit forum, I swear—”

“It’s not. It’s from a paper. Academic. Legit. Published in Race Systems & Applied Motion last month.”

Andrea raised an eyebrow. “Obscure.”

“Very. It has like 20 readers,” the engineer agreed. “But I think it’s real. It’s clean. It’s sharp. It’s…” He hesitated. “We might want to test it.”

That got Andrea’s attention.

He took the paper and began to skim.

Title: Redefining Compliance: Adaptive Suspension Geometry Under Load-Sensitive Parameters for Mid-Field Chassis Configurations.

Andrea kept reading. It was dense—academic, yes—but it was also practical. It spoke the language of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. There were no ego traps. No unnecessary complexity. Just hard math and hard-earned insight.

Andrea flipped the page. Then another. His eyes caught a note referencing flex dynamics in chassis response curves and passive recovery lag.

It was correct. More than correct. It was insightful.

The author wasn’t spitballing ideas from afar—this was the work of someone who had lived in the theory and understood the application. Who referenced real-world tolerances. Racing examples. The math was sound. The diagrams were better than half the ones their CFD team managed.

Andrea flipped back to the byline.

Dr. F. Piastri.

Piastri. 

James grinned. “Fun coincidence in the name, right? He’s smart.”

Andrea didn’t correct him.

Because yes—coincidence. Probably. But something about it stuck in his brain, like a whisper he couldn’t quite place.

He read the essay in full that night—twice. It was elegant, sharp, and frustratingly precise in the way only truly experienced voices ever were. The type of clarity that came from years of not just understanding a concept, but translating it into reality.

The next morning, Andrea sent out an internal email.

Subject: Additional Works by Dr. F. Piastri If anyone has access to prior publications by this author, please forward them to me.

By the end of the week, his inbox was full.

One essay became three. Three became eleven. Eleven became twenty. 

Each one published under the name F.Piastri, buried in obscure journals and small-circulation engineering reviews that didn’t get traffic unless someone was either deeply curious or incredibly desperate. 

Andrea was both.

Each article was smarter than the last—strange, elegant engineering thought-pieces published across the most obscure academic mechanical journals Andrea had ever encountered. Niche ones. The kind that only the most obsessive minds contributed to, with names like Thermoelasticity in Microstructured Materials and Lateral Load Adaptation Quarterly.

F.Piastri had written:

An article about Load-dependent understeer in transitional corners (with math that Andrea double-checked twice because it was too clean).

A 2019 think-piece on long-run stability under thermal degradation.

An essay about Aerodynamic oscillation buffering for short-track endurance vehicles.

An article about the economic viability of 3D printed carbon struts under rotational shear (he actually flagged that one for McLaren Applied).

 A thesis that corrected a widely accepted torque model—buried in a conference archive.

A published rebuttal in Journal of Vehicle Design so politely worded it read like a love letter—until you realized she’d rewritten the reviewer’s assumptions line by line.

There was even one article on fluid dynamics that had been cited in a grad-level textbook from ETH Zurich. 

Andrea devoured them all.

He—She?—wrote like someone who saw the car before it was built. Who understood not just how suspension worked, but how it felt. How energy passed through a chassis not as force but as intent.

The writing style was sharp. Practical. Absolutely ruthless in its logic. There was clarity there—an elegance—that reminded him of only a few people he’d ever worked with.

It was revolutionary. It was poetic.

By the time he tracked down the doctoral thesis from Oxford, Andrea wasn’t breathing properly.

Reinforcement Through Flexibility: Dynamic Adaptation in Composite- Structured Performance Environments.

By: F. Piastri.

 Submitted: December 2022

Andrea stared at the name.

F. Piastri.

He stared for so long his tea went cold beside him.

His hands were shaking—not because of nerves, but because he already knew.

He opened the PDF. Skimmed past the table of contents. Scrolled through diagrams that made his heart stutter.

There was no photo. No biographical section. Just a clean Oxford University seal, 284 pages of dense, brilliant theory, and then—

A dedication.

To Oscar: For believing in a future that didn’t exist yet, and building it with me anyway. Every lap, every choice, every time—you’ve been my constant.

And to Bee: For reminding me that softness and strength aren’t opposites. You are the best thing I’ve ever helped create.

Andrea sat back in his chair like he’d been physically shoved.

Bee.

Oscar. 

F. Piastri. 

Felicity Piastri. 

Felicity.

Oscar’s wife.

Dr. F. Piastri wasn’t some reclusive academic or distant uncle with a gift for simulation modeling.

She lived in Oscar’s house.

 She packed his lunchbox.

 She raised their daughter.

 And she had published papers on suspension theory that half of F1 would kill to understand. Quietly. Efficiently. Correctly.

Andrea leaned back in his chair, stared at the ceiling for a long moment, and whispered:

“…Of course it’s his wife.”

Of course the quiet, composed driver who rarely raised his voice and always had one hand on the bigger picture had married someone brilliant. Of course she wasn’t just talented—she was a published expert with a doctorate from Oxford.

Not a coincidence. 

Not a mystery engineer.

Not some guy.

But Oscar’s wife.

Oscar Piastri—quiet, methodical Oscar—had married a genius.

A doctor of mechanical engineering from Oxford who wrote better technical documentation in a margin note than most engineers did in a year. Who published under initials. Who could probably solve half their handling inconsistencies while holding a toddler on her hip.

Andrea sat in silence for a full minute.

Then he exhaled. “...of course he did.”

He opened a new tab.

Email draft: 

To: Technical Team 

Subject: URGENT – Reference Reading Required Attached: Every single thing Dr. F. Piastri had ever published.

***

The meeting was meant to be quick.

Just a routine Monday touchpoint—debrief, run through media notes with Sophie, talk sponsor appearances, maybe discuss Oscar’s upcoming comms obligations.

Zak had rolled in with a protein shake.

Lando was lounging sideways in a chair like he’d melted into it.

Oscar had a protein bar and an expression of polite mildness, as usual.

Andrea, meanwhile, had not slept.

 Not because of the race.

 Because he’d spent the entire weekend reading Dr. Felicity Piastri’s entire body of work. Every published paper. Every obscenely niche journal article.

And her doctoral thesis.

He hadn’t meant to do it all in one sitting. He just couldn’t stop.

By 2 a.m. he was muttering things like “Of course she used Euler-Bernoulli assumptions, she’s too smart for non-parametric bullshit.”

 By 4 a.m., he’d highlighted her proposed solution to dampen micro-vibration load in corner exits.

 By 6 a.m., he had a headache, an existential crisis, and a desperate need to know: Why had Oscar Piastri never mentioned this?!

So at the end of the meeting—just as Sophie was wrapping up and Lando was aimlessly spinning a pen like a propeller—Andrea set down a file on the table.

Calmly. Casually. Like he hadn’t just had his entire mechanical worldview rattled by a woman who wasn’t even on the payroll.

“Oscar,” Andrea said, voice deceptively neutral. “Why didn’t you ever mention that your wife holds a doctorate in mechanical engineering?”

Oscar, halfway through eating his protein bar, blinked. “What?”

Andrea gestured vaguely, as if the thesis were still radiating brilliance from his desk. “Felicity. Doctorate. Thesis. Dozens of published papers. Half of them useful to our current car design issues. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Oscar blinked once. “Oh. Yeah. She gets bored sometimes.”

Andrea blinked back.

Lando stared like he’d been smacked with a front wing. “Wait—she got a doctorate?!”

Oscar nodded, chewing. “Yeah. Finished it in 2022. She was stuck in that horrible flat in Enstone while I was back and forth with Alpine, and she got bored. Wrote most of it at the kitchen table while Bee napped.”

Andrea just… stared. 

He had read the thesis. Studied it. The mathematical modeling alone had kept him awake at night—and she had apparently written it during toddler nap times, while stuck in a damp shoebox flat in Oxfordshire.

Zak looked up slowly from his tablet. “Your wife was bored. So she got a PhD in mechanical engineering.”

Oscar shrugged. “She already had the research mostly done before Bee was even born in 2020. She just had to write it up. Bee was napping a lot anyway.”

Sophie blinked. “She wrote a 200-page dissertation with a toddler in the house?”

Oscar just shrugged. “It helped that Bee liked the sound of the keyboard.”

Andrea turned to Zak, still stunned. “She predicted the kind of high-frequency oscillation we’re seeing this season. Two years ago. In a footnote.”

Lando leaned forward like he was watching a live feed of someone discovering aliens. “She’s just, like, a genius?” he asked, voice too loud, too incredulous. “And you never brought it up?”

Oscar just sighed. “She hates that word.”

Andrea just stared at him. “Oscar, she’s not just good. She’s formidable. Has she ever applied anywhere formally?”

Oscar looked genuinely confused. “Why would she apply anywhere?”

Andrea stared. “To work. In engineering. In motorsport. Academia.”

Oscar blinked. “She does work. She manages our lives, Bee, the house, and the chickens.”

Lando leaned toward Andrea, wide-eyed: “I’ve never felt dumber in my entire life.”

Andrea sighed. “Join the club.”

***

The kitchen smelled like vanilla and wood polish and faintly like chicken coop — which meant Felicity had mopped and baked and wrangled Mansell, the escape artist hen, all while probably rebalancing one of their stock portfolios.

Oscar dropped his bag by the door and leaned against the kitchen entryway.

Felicity was sitting at the table in her old university hoodie, feet bare, Bee curled up under her arm asleep with Button the frog as a pillow. There were spreadsheets open on one side of her laptop screen, a half-watched nature documentary on the other, and one of Bee’s plastic toy bulls standing solemnly in the middle of the table for reasons unknown.

He smiled.

God, he loved her.

“Hey,” he said softly.

Felicity glanced up. “Hey. Dinner’s in the oven. Bee passed out mid-pie crust.”

“Excellent,” Oscar said, dropping into the chair beside her. “Because I need carbs.”

She raised an eyebrow, equal parts amusement and curiosity. “Bad day?”

“No. Just... intellectually humbling.”

Felicity made a low amused noise and went back to her laptop. “Did Lando try to explain crypto again?”

Oscar snorted and reached over to carefully lift Bee into his lap, her curls warm against his hoodie. She barely stirred.

He could have let it sit. Saved it for later. But it was buzzing under his skin.

“Stella read your papers.”

That got her attention.

Felicity paused, her fingers stilled mid-scroll. “Which one?”

“All of them,” Oscar said. “Apparently it started with one of the engineers, who brought an article in from Race Systems & Applied Motion. Then he spiraled.”

“Ah,” Felicity murmured, unsurprised. “That one had a good diagram.”

“He found your thesis,” Oscar added.

This time she didn’t answer right away.

He reached for one of Bee’s crayons and twirled it idly in his fingers, watching her.

“He read the dedication,” he said, voice quieter now.

Felicity’s eyes softened in that way that always undid him a little. Always had.

“Did he say anything?” she asked.

Oscar smiled faintly. “He said you’re formidable.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Felicity laughed—not loud, not startled, just warm and wry and a little disbelieving.

“God help the man,” she said. “He must have hit the rebuttal piece from the Vehicle Design Journal. That one made a few engineers cry.”

Oscar grinned. “Yeah, well. He was halfway to building you a shrine by the end of the meeting. I also told him you got bored in Enstone and wrote your PhD while Bee was napping.”

Felicity gave him a look. “You make it sound like I was scrapbooking.”

“Weren’t you also doing that at the time?”

Felicity blinked. “...Okay, fair.”

Bee stirred slightly in his lap, a tiny sigh escaping her lips as she nuzzled deeper into his hoodie sleeve.

Oscar looked down at her—this tiny human they somehow made and raised—and then back at the woman across the table. 

Her hair was messier than usual, strands escaping her braid, and there was a faint flour smudge near her temple. She hadn’t bought herself a new pair of jeans in two years. She sometimes forgot to eat when she was buried in simulations. She once fixed the bathroom plumbing at midnight because she didn’t like how the guy from the hardware store spoke to her.

She was the smartest person he knew.

Oscar knew most people wouldn’t think it when they first met her. She smiled too easily. She didn’t correct anyone. She let others assume things—that she was just the girlfriend, just the wife, just the mother.

But she had a doctorate from Oxford, and more published academic papers than most career professors. She could hold court with race engineers and theoretical physicists in the same breath, then go home and teach Bee how to build a pulley system out of Lego and twine. She spoke in quiet, exact terms, and when she challenged people, she did it so gently they sometimes didn’t notice until it was too late.

He’d long since stopped being surprised by her. He’d just—normalized it. Integrated it. Felicity being a genius was like oxygen to him: invisible, essential, and easy to take for granted until someone else nearly passed out from the realization.

She was just Fliss to him. 

The woman who sold her designer bags to pay rent when her family cut her off. The mother of his child. His fiercest critic and his most devoted supporter. The one person he trusted without hesitation.

She didn’t want headlines or praise. She wanted quiet mornings and clever puzzles. She wanted Bee to grow up confident. She wanted Oscar to remember to eat something green.

She was the smartest person he knew — and she hated being called smart. So he didn’t. He just came home.

“He called you formidable,” he repeated. “And I agree. For what it’s worth.”

Felicity smiled then—slow and quiet, the kind that reached all the way to her eyes.

She leaned across the table and kissed his temple. “Thanks,” she said. “But if he asks me to consult, I’m charging him triple.”

Oscar laughed softly and ran a hand through Bee’s curls. “Deal.”

And he meant it. Because maybe it was easy for him to forget sometimes, tucked into the quiet rhythm of their life, that the world hadn’t caught up to how brilliant she was.

But he never stopped being proud of her.

Not for a second.

[sanjisprincesswifey]

pros and cons list

summary: the good, the bad, the ugly, perfectly curated into a pros and cons list

black leg sanji

pros:

constantly wants to color coordinate your outfits together

let’s you pick meals at minimum once a week

very good kisser (he practiced with his pillow a lot before your first date)

he wants you to walk him like a dog

sanji never lets you forget how much you mean to him

always remembers important dates, birthdays, anniversaries, etc. 

remembers the little things and notices your absence (will often go to try and find you)

adapts to whatever love language you respond to 

cons:

the nicotine smell embeds into your sheets and clothes and is a pain in the ass to get out

yells for any minor inconvenience

occasionally too handsy

always finishes before you

major jealousy issues

is constantly horny

says he’s fine but he’s dying inside

doesn’t understand the concept of alone time and takes it personally if you ask to be by yourself

roronoa zoro

pros: 

the best napping partner

protective

is a softie but only with you

very emotionally intelligent 

gym trainer boyfriend

let’s you take the relationship at your own pace because he can’t be bothered 

loves to mark you and give you hickies

always makes sure you finish first 

cons: 

stinky (bro smells like sweat and steel)

does not have a single romantic bone in his body; you’ll literally have to teach him how to be a boyfriend

is extremely blunt 

snores super loud 

might fall asleep while you’re talking

you can no longer be friends with sanji 

doesn’t ask you to date him, just assumes you are together

gets upset when you can’t keep up with his drinking

monkey d luffy

pros: 

the best hugger 

extremely loyal to you

hides midnight snacks for both of you

lets you sit on the ship’s figurehead with him

king of silly sentimental gifts (hand-picked flower, cool rock, pretty seashell, that sort of thing)

always makes sure you’re included in conversations

shares his favorite foods with you

can always make you feel better

cons:

doesn’t know how to be quiet or whisper

never lets you win arguments

throws himself at you with no regard to his strength

no concept of personal space

rubs his boogers on you

accidentally makes fun of the noises you make during sex

will steal blankets from you while you’re asleep  

points out your pimples or zits 

usopp

pros: 

always finds a way to make you laugh

grows flowers for you

comforts you if you’re insecure

handmade gifts!!!!!!

brags about you to everyone

loves to show you off and tell stories about your adventures together

names special attacks after you

always lets you in on the pranks he pulls 

cons: 

is insecure

would sacrifice you to an enemy to protect himself

shows you bugs even if you’re afraid of them

incredibly awkward with all your firsts 

clammy hands

make jokes during arguments (it makes you madder and the cycle continues)

never tops

sometimes pranks you too 

nami

pros:

lets you take a few of her tangerines

immune to her reprimanding when something bad happens (most times)

extremely thoughtful gift giver

shares her money with you

cares deeply about you (don’t point it out though because then she’ll stop)

is always telling you how pretty you are

very good in bed

is more lenient with your allowance

cons:

pawns gifts you get her

bad communicator

critiques everything about you

can and will distance herself from you

charges you if you piss her off

talks about vivi way too much for having a whole other girlfriend

doesn’t apologize after fights even if she caused them

bullies you (with love)

nico robin

pros:

leaves you notes in books to find later

the voice of reason in your relationship

notices and compliments you on every little change you make (haircuts, style change, etc.)

extremely good listener

literally a human search engine; so smart you can ask her almost any question and she knows the answer

passionate lover; treats you like a god in bed

soft lips

spoils you in every way that she can

cons:

can make you feel dumb with her endless knowledge

will never say ‘i love you’ first

always tops (a possible pro depending on your preferences tbh)

has nightmares almost every night ):

closed off in the beginning of your relationship

franky hits on her (and you) all the time

rather be reading than with you

takes your relationship extremely slow

portgas d ace

pros:

can heat food up for you at any time day or night

loves pda

plans fun dates

probably says ‘i love you’ a million times a day

into body worship (both ways)

kills bugs for you

walk him like a dog, sis !

never says no to you

cons:

sweaty and greasy in the summer

farts and gives you a dutch oven

doesn’t take anything seriously

adhd moments

mommy AND daddy issues

likes to lay on top of you even though he’s huge and basically crushes you

talks with his mouth full

is loud in bed (because he enjoys it so much) and everyone can hear when you two have sex

sabo

pros:

another body worshipper

dragon claw fist. need i say more?

the best secret keeper

praises you

would actually bow down to you

very respectful, asked you to kiss on your first date

awkward but sensual lover

a loyal puppy

cons:

loves being right

sore winner & loser

cocky ass mf

talks about luffy and ace 24/7

never on time

bad temper

might catch on fire if he’s mad

loves to tease you (again, could be a pro depending on your preferences)

shanks

pros:

buys you anything you could ever want

good kisser

always showing you off

treats you like a queen

calls you his wife

very affectionate in public

another worshipper; does that thing where his kisses lead up from your hand to your shoulder

when he gets drunk and you try to kiss him, he pushes you away and says “get off me, i have a wife”

cons:

gets you riled up during the day

teases you all the time

can be unreliable

bad at flirting

drunk all the time

still makes jokes about his arm even though it’s been YEARS

lingering alcohol smell

pervert

trafalgar law

pros:

rarely cooks but always does for you when you’re sick

smells amazing all of the time

lets you do this eyeliner in the morning (based off this fanart)

is a victim of the ‘she fell first, he fell harder’ trope

gives you sound solutions to your problems

literally becomes addicted to you and can’t live without you

flusters easily, very shy

would shave his facial hair if you asked him to (please tell him to shave off that godforsaken beard)

cons:

very blunt

never talks about his feelings

grammar police

a virgin; he doesn’t know what to do but fakes confidence like he does (it makes your first time a bit awkward but just talk him through it, babe)

humbles you without meaning to

over explains if you broach a subject he likes

sassy

just stares at you when you try to flirt with him

eustass kid

pros:

scary boyfriend privilege

an absolute beast in bed

insanely good kisser

raspy morning voice

you get to use his boobies as a pillow

is very smart but kinda dumb

eats pussy like a starved man

will always save you some food (it’s how he shows he cares)

cons:

dramatic

hangs out with killer more than you

will put the milk carton back in the fridge even if it’s empty

you can never be mad at him or make him mad because he’s the biggest asshole ever

ignores you if you’re fighting

zones out while you’re talking

if you send him a long, thoughtful text, he’ll respond back with ‘k’

what’s his is his and what’s yours is his

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated (✿◠‿◠)

[ahotknife]

and while we're on the topic i'm here to say once and for all that ronan did NOT struggle in school because he's not smart. ronan did NOT drop out of school because he didn't want to learn or isn't capable of learning. ronan's incredibly perceptive and quick-thinking. we have canon based reasons to believe he's well read and well cultured. he's top of his class in latin by a wide margin, which is no easy feat in a private school like aglionby. he's so skilled at the language that he can write jokes and instructions in latin. he frequently references historical figures/relevant media/advanced concepts for someone his age ("the greeks didn't have a word for blue", "jungian bullshit", "doubting thomas"). he's ferociously hard working and possesses many practical skills. he's described as performing carpentry/repairs/staining wood on his own, he raises a baby bird by himself. he spends MONTHS trying to wake up the cows. not only is he capable of a lot of things, he's good enough at things to teach other people to do them. he teaches adam to drive a manual transmission. he can read music fluently and play an instrument well enough to participate in competitions. that shit is hard. i'm not falling for the propaganda that he's stupid or unintelligent or unaware simply because he didn't want to finish his formal education... he's just as smart as any of the other boys, he's just not pretentious about it like gansey or defensive about it like adam. in the opal short story she observes that ronan is smart, and not only does adam know he's smart, he likes that he's smart. we need to get serious about this. i simply cannot sanction the buffoonery. hello. is this thing on. is anybody listening

[cinnamon7girl7]

"WHAT'S MINE IS YOURS"

Being married to Satoru Gojo didn’t just mean sharing a bed, a house, or a last name. It meant sharing your life with someone who loved you absurdly — someone who never understood, and never will understand, the concept of boundaries.

You had your own missions.

Your cursed technique.

A well-built life long before you ever met him.

But from the moment you stepped into his world, Satoru decided that no part of you would ever be alone again. Not your exhaustion. Not your hunger. Not even your most simple little preferences.

The first time you said your feet hurt after a mission, a week later you had a high-tech imported massage chair with a smart footrest and a robe with your name embroidered on it.

One night, he canceled a meeting with his clan elders just to come back home, crawl into bed with you, and wrap his arms around you.

—The only urgent thing on my schedule is you —he whispered, without even taking off his coat.

His gestures were constant, subtle... and sometimes incredibly ridiculous.

Other times, if he found out you’d had a rough night, he’d wake you up with a breakfast cooked by private chefs in his kitchen.

Once, he spent over six million dollars just so you could see snow on your birthday for the first time… in the middle of August.

He had an entire climate-control system installed at one of his properties in Dubai, imported realistic artificial snow from Japan, and had a fake alpine village built in the garden.

The team helping him included meteorologists, movie set designers, and a group of dancers dressed as penguins who showed up at the end with an igloo-shaped cake.

—You said you wanted “pretty snow, like in the movies” —he told you with a proud grin, while you cried in your thermal robe and bunny-ear slippers.

—And I want every birthday of yours to be better than the last. So… get ready.

If he noticed you were quiet or down, he would shut down five floors of a luxury shopping mall just so you could walk around in peace, no crowds, no noise.

—The world’s being annoying today, babe. So no world. Just you… and the window displays —he’d say, carrying your bags like they weighed nothing.

Sometimes he even paid millions so that an amusement park would open just for the two of you for one night. Not because you loved the rides… but because you told him you’d never been to one as a kid. That night, he let you ride the Ferris wheel a thousand times, just to see you laugh.

And if he noticed you were happy… he gave you even more reasons to be.

Once, he hired Chanel’s head designer to make you a custom dress in less than 24 hours, just because you said “nothing I have fits for tonight’s dinner.”

Another time, he decorated an entire room just because he heard you say “I need a space just for me.” You didn’t say anything when you saw the library with new shelves, the aroma diffuser, the soft blanket on the perfect chair. You just hugged him.

—You deserve to be comfortable. Always. I don’t like that you’re unhappy in our little home because… I want to give you that. All of it —he said.

By “little home” he meant, of course, his modest three-story mansion with a Japanese garden, heated pool, and a walk-in closet that looked like it came out of a fashion magazine.

Because for him, the size of the place didn’t matter if you didn’t feel at peace there. And if that meant gifting you an entire tower just for yourself, he would do it again without hesitation.

Not even when he replaced all the chairs in the private cinema because you once mentioned that velvet irritated you. The next day, the furniture was soft leather, with cashmere blankets and a sound system that made you feel inside the movie.

Not even when he ordered croissants from Paris, flown in by private jet, because you joked that “nothing tastes the same since I came back from my trip.”

You didn’t question it when he planted a whole garden of flowers that only bloom at night, you said nothing. He just took your hand one early morning and led you outside, under the moon, to show it to you.

Or when he had a perfume made that smelled exactly like your freshly washed hair. He didn’t tell you. He just wore it one night when he had to travel, and when you hugged him, you felt your own scent wrap around you like an invisible ribbon.

Not even when he reserved a planetarium just for the two of you and rearranged the constellations to spell your name.

—Because there’s no star I find more beautiful than you, darling —he said, in a voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him.

And he meant it.

Not out of obligation, but as a personal desire —and you knew you couldn’t stop him. Not even when he bought you 10 identical pairs of Louboutin heels just because “he didn’t know which color you liked more.”

Not even when he bought a private island just because you said you wanted to “sunbathe without hearing people talking nearby.” He furnished the whole place in two days, with exclusive chefs, an endless bar, and a 3-meter-wide bed just so you could sleep like a queen.

And much less when he installed a heating system in your studio because you said, half asleep, “I hate when my feet get cold while I’m working.”

One night, while the city lights shone through the tall windows of his office, Satoru was reviewing papers with a half-finished glass beside him.

His phone vibrated on the desk. He answered without hurry, without even looking at the number.

—Gojo?

—Mr. Gojo, good evening —said the voice on the other end—. We’re calling to confirm a transaction attempting to process from your joint account with Mrs. Gojo. The amount is four million seven hundred thousand dollars. Do you authorize it?

He smiled, leaning back in his chair.

—Of course I do.

—Are you sure?

—If she’s the one buying it, don’t even ask me.

And he hung up with that calm of his, as if approving a multimillion-dollar purchase was as easy as breathing.

Because for Satoru, it didn’t matter what it was. If it was for you, it was always worth it.

One afternoon you came back from an exhausting mission. Everything hurt, you didn’t want to talk, just sleep.

But when you opened the door, you found something that left you speechless.

Lilies.

White lilies. Blue lilies. Oriental lilies, in big and small vases, marble flower pots, crystal bowls, and even in a teacup on the table.

There were petals on the stairs, tall stems in the corners, bouquets gently swaying with the breeze from the open windows.

The scent was delicate, enveloping. Familiar.

You walked among them with wide eyes, your heart racing, as if you had been transported to another world. In every corner, a small note:

“Here I took your hand for the first time.” “Here I realized I never wanted to let go.” “Here I knew you were my home.”

Satoru appeared at the end of the hallway. Smiling, without glasses, messy hair, wearing a light blue shirt half unbuttoned.

—Happy anniversary of the first “click” —he said—. I don’t remember what we ate that day… but I perfectly remember how your hand fit in mine.

And since then, I haven’t stopped wanting to repeat it.

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

So you did the only logical thing: you threw yourself into his arms, among lilies, among notes with memories, and surrounded by the scent of a kind of love money can’t buy.

He held you like always: as if you were the only thing he’d ever let fall.

I’ll be posting a long feed about Streamer!Gojo tomorrow, so hope you enjoy this one for now!

[thbbie]

༄ himbo!toji x f! bestfriend!reader

toji didn't know much, far from being the sharpest tool on the shed, but he knew for certain this; he was one lucky bastard

lucky to get to be near you, to talk to you, to smell you, to touch you— you you you, his perfect best friend. you're so smart and so pretty, so well spoken and eloquent compared to a brute like him.

oh he's got the biggest crush on you. and his you guys came to be friends? he doesn't have the slightest clue.

so when he starts asking for your help with his classes, that you tutor him so he could get grades up out of nowhere you're caught off guard. the sudden interest in his academics incredibly out of character for the man.

still, he remains you friend, and though he may not be incredibly smart with the books, he wasn't stupid and he could learn if he just paid half a mind to the material. the issue is he never does.

too distracted by the clothing you wear lounging around at home and the way your holding your natural hair up with a spare pencil. god you're so resourceful. his staring alternates from watching your lips and the rest of your pretty face. your skin looks so soft, you aren't even wearing makeup right n-

"toji. focus. you won't learn anything if your mind starts to wander five seconds into the lesson. and don't look at me, look at the paper."

oh you sound so strict! toji redirects his gaze to the page your writing on, the way your delicate hands hold the pen, and the other holding down the page. they're so pretty. toji wonders quietly is they be that gentle with him or would your touch turn rough.

he's getting distracted again and he's glad, thinking you haven't noticed the tent in his pants or the blush that has painted him.

"hey, i'm. gonna go to uhh.. piss. you don't have to wait for me alright," ". but if you do, then don't blame me you need another day for studying."

toji ventures into your home to find the bathroom, leaving you sitting at the coffee table with all your notes spread and a pencil tapping you chin as you think of how else you can explain to him the concepts.

he didn't really need the bathroom, toji just wanted a break from all the numbers and words that honestly he believes won't do him any good in the 'real world'

to spend the time, he rummages through the products you have in your shower and your sink, the little makeup pouch. opening up bottles to smell your perfume and swatting you lip products on his hand, you'd look so pretty in that shimmery one.

surrendered by the smell of you, by you, toji feels himself harden in his pants. the urge to relieve himself only doubles when he sees the laundry basket in the corner. shit- no, he's better than this. you're better than this toji, that's your best friend! your smart, sexy, incredibly beautiful best friend who has the prettiest smile and sexiest stern tone ever. sometimes, your voice softens up, turning into something kinder.

fuck he isn't better than this. not at his best is he better than this.

toji takes two short careful strides towards the forbidden tree (your laundry) and sees, ever so temptingly, a pair of panties that can only belong to you. the forbidden fruit.

he snatches it up quickly, as if it'll make a difference in his actions and holds it delicately in both his hands — it was a simple looking pair really, but to him there can be nothing sexier right now.

still holding the little thing in both his hands, toji brings it up to his nose to take a whiff; making sure that sniff right above where you cunt would have rested. mmphh ~ oh he knows that you, his serious no bs best friend would have the prettiest pussy known to mankind.

toji surpasses the groan coming from his throat by stuffing them further into his face. the man is buried nose deep in your dirty panties and he cannot get enough of it — you smell so good. good enough to eat whole. god toji wants to taste you so bad. have you dripping and making a mess of his face and his hair.

would you offer to help? your so nice to him after all, or would you be disgusted, calling him a pervert in that stern voice of yours while glaring at him? both is good he thinks. both are true

his pants feel way to tight around him now, he pulls out his cock and starts stroking it fast. he isn't concerned about trying to match your pace, the sight that shimmery lip in him hand and your worn underwear is enough fuel for him.

he imagines you, wearing that pretty shade for him, leaving marks of the product all over his body.

"mmmhphh- fhuuckkk." his sounds are still muffled, barely by the skimpy fabric, he presses his nose in deeper, getting high of your scent but it isn't enough for him anymore. desperately, desperate for more of you, toji brings them to his open mouth and licks a broad strip right at the centre; hoping for just the slightest taste of your essence on his tongue. he grabs your body lotion of the sink, he needs more of you.

he cums at the taste of you, so fast, it wrecks through his body, bringing him down to his knees on the tiled floor of your bathroom, you taste so good. he cannot stop though, cumming all over himself and falling to his knees but still, he cannot stop. he puts the whole thing in his mouth, sucking at it fruitlessly for another taste of you, the smell of your shampoo and perfume and pussy fill his melt his brain.

"mmmhmph, [name]~ ♡" its muffled, the words choked and hardly coherent but he knows what he's saying, this is so wrong but he's so close aga-

"toji? are you okay in there." "mhmp-" "toji?"

he can't bring himself to stop, his strokes getting faster and messier, losing all the rhythm they never had to begin with, the lotion he squirted on the hand he's touching himself with amplifying the obscene sounds he's making, this is how you get your skin to look so soft isn't it?

tojis free hand comes done to join the other, fondling himself, teasing his balls the way he thinks you might with your dainty hands, they'd look so small in comparison to his, cute and without any callouses. you always remember to monetize them after holding a pen or typing for too long. your always so thoughtful, offering him some and reminding him to do the same when you don't.

"toji im serious."

but he doesn't hear you instead he thinks and imagines instead the image of the sweet scented cream you have his cum in the palm of your hands spreading it, rubbing it into your skin. shit shit shit-

sudden he's snapped out of his daze when your bathrooms creaky doorknob twists. fuck. did he not lock the door?

[garez19]

wanna switch?

having grown up as the “smarter” twin, he finally gets a glimpse of his brother’s perspective. MDNI, gn reader, yandere content, mentions of overdose, drug use, murder, not proofread, 1.5k wc.

notes: can you call this one experimental? idk.

at the age of six, his parents consider him the calmer one, the son that is easier to deal with, the smart and kind one.

“mine is cooler,” his brother says without looking at him. the toy is almost identical to his, yet kids his age are easy to handle, stupid and naive enough to accept anything. his brother clumsily pushes the toy car around with two fingers, too sure of the fact that it looks cool if he is the one doing it.

he frowns cartoonishly. the seed of doubt is planted on his head, and he does not enjoy playing cars as much. the other kid realizes his little pout, so he turns to him, “would you like to trade them?” his smile is wide and he’s ready to declare his victory.

“okay,” he says.

their parents begin to notice their son’s unexplainable jealousy toward the other boy. every toy he owns, every bit of attention he receives, even every snack he’s given is noted and mirrored by his brother.

their mother buys them two more toys— almost identical, yet in different colors.

“theo,” she calls out to the kid. they both look at her. “pick one of them.” she points to the toys. theo beams with joy, however; his brother doesn’t seem as excited. he picks the green one after contemplating a few seconds. “okay, good,” she holds out the blue one to the other boy.

“and don’t give it to alex when he asks you to.”

at the age of fifteen, he is fed up with the boy’s dumbness.

they’re identical in almost every aspect, but there has been times he took alex’s exams because he is just so incredibly thick-headed to understand even the easiest concepts.

but no, wait, alex isn’t stupid, not exactly. all he ever does is find an easier path, to manipulate and create new ways just so he could get it over with.

their parents are very much used to being praised about their son, theo, who has been exceptionally successful, the model student everyone keeps mentioning. it wasn’t the deal with his brother though, he isn’t as troublesome as he used to be, but he still lacks the ability to concentrate and blend in with the rest,

“keep your eyes on your brother,” his mom says to theo. “you’re the only one he has.”

at the age of twenty-two, he finally understands how alex must’ve felt like all his life.

theo has his life ahead of him. a bright future blinks at his way, a very successful career as well as a loving family. without a doubt, he would have it all in no time, whereas his brother is still busy acting like an asshole and trying to drink all his worries away. he has tried to warn him, “it’s not a healthy coping mechanism,” he says. alex looks up at him in pure contempt —and something else he can’t figure out is there too, something similar to disgust.—

“and what is?” he spits, “being a freak, obsessed with control?”

theo doesn’t answer. it’s not that he doesn’t care about the remark, because his brother isn’t the only one who has voiced this sentiment. but he knows—even if he is the control freak, he is in the better position. he is in control, and that’s enough to keep him going. he is safe from the consequences of foolishness and ignorant decisions.

“it’s better than overdosing on drugs,” he says through clenched teeth.

they didn’t use to be this cruel towards each other, he remembers. he is reminded of the silly fights when they were younger, and how they always had found a way to apologize and make up.

“fuck off, will you?” alex hisses as he puts on a jacket. “you’re not a saint.”

he knows his brother will come back apologetic, he will even buy his favorite dessert as a form of apology—something he does to indicate he wants to make amends. “you’re the only one i care about,” theo will say as his brother gives him the paper bag, “don’t let those pills get into your head.”

and his brother will nod along, even though he probably won’t be listening. their relationship will seem stable for another couple of days.

the scene plays out just like how he imagined, only with a bit of a miscalculation. “maybe you’re right,” his brother mumbles, “i shouldn’t be messing around with my life.” theo can’t hide his surprise, but he seems content with his brother coming back to his senses.

and after a few days, alex mentions you, someone who has been helping him heal, someone who is willing to hear what he has to say. you become the shocking news for the following days. he isn’t an easy one to deal with, so theo considers you a holy soul sent by heavens. he witnesses his brother’s eyes shining as he talks about you. he sees how excited his brother gets whenever there’s a little date of you two.

and for once in his life, he feels happy he doesn’t have to keep an eye on alex. he is happy there is someone his brother can trust with, someone who cherishes and respects him even when he’s the biggest loser.

“i’m glad to meet you,” you say, reaching out to his hand, “alex talks about you quite a lot.”

he smiles softly, you are just like how he imagined after all: a lovely soul with a loving heart.

he likes invading your rendezvouses whenever he has the opportunity. his workaholic habits don’t usually allow that, but he feels he can make exceptions here and there. your presence is comfortable in a sense he can’t entirely describe. it’s like a cup of tea after being done with his studies, or maybe like the ice cream his mom used to buy when she was there.

but there’s only so much he can do when his brother tells him to give them some privacy. he gets it, really, but he can’t help but want to be told “it’s okay, you can hang out with us.” by you.

and you do. because you truly don’t mind it: his company is fun, and it’s hilarious to watch two identical people who have two contrasting personalities fight over the best movie of all time.

he watches the story alex has posted, two of you and a stray cat— it seems very fond of you.

he seems confused. since when does he have a partner? when did he even post that story? hell, he doesn’t even use it often. he clicks on the account. there’s a picture of a cat on the profile. “Alexander” he reads. he takes out his student id from the wallet. “Theodore” it says.

he hates being called that.

he refreshes the page and views the story again. you look so lovely with your adorable smile. he suddenly longs to be that one cat you pet in that story. he wants to be a stray cat you adopt, a stray cat you intend to domesticate.

or even better, he wants to be his brother, alex. he wants to be a part of your life without needing his brother’s permission. he wants to be present, and it doesn’t matter whether he has to be theo, alex, or that one stray cat in order to be by your side. his identity has stopped making sense a long time ago anyway, and all he ever wants is to have you near.

there are two mugs of tea on the table. “best dad ever,” one says. the other one has little flowers on it. alex puts the donuts right next to them. the two sit in silence, ready to make up, but none of them says anything. fortunately, the sound of the tv takes the tense silence away. theo’s gaze shifts from the table to alex.

“you remember how mom would make me pick toys because you wouldn’t stop swapping them with mine?” he asks. alex nods as he smiles at the sight of the memory. “you remember how you’d make her believe i was the one who did that?” alex asks back. he takes a sip while theo stares at the mug in his hand.

“well, no,” theo says, confused, “anyway, do you want to switch?” he points at the mug with his head. his smile is big, and he is one word away from declaring his victory.

“sure,” his brother grins.

seeing you cry over “his” death is heartbreaking, but it is also something that makes his chest warmer. how tragic it is to leave this world when he had so much ahead of him. when he had so much to do, when he had so much potential.

none of them truly matters, not really, because heaven can only wait so long to take you back. and before that happens, he’s ready to play the part of his brother too.

“i’m so sorry, love,” you say, wiping his tears away. “it’s going to be alright.”

[brain-in-the-stars]

what immediately became one of my favorite things about ISAT is the party's so blatant yet natural characterization and subtext

because each one of them incorporates very recognizable archetypes while naturally breaking them down through the dialogues, mannerisms and other little details they deliver as the story progresses ever since the very first moment they're introduced

Mirabelle is not merely an anxious and shy damsel in distress, but a powerful, responsible, empathetic and very strong-willed gracious lady who leads the team and was the chosen one to protect Dormont and defeat the King! she's a multilayered heroine in development, who still deals with insecurity and figuring herself out while being a brilliant and gifted fighter

Odile is not merely a grumpy intellectual "elder", she's actually incredibly caring and aware of the others emotions and social situations in general, REALLY far from being self-centered or ignorant. her interests are not only limited to logic and rationality, but includes various subjective concepts as well! she also has an excellent sense of humor AKJDADJKDLJDA

Isabeau is not merely a handsome face in a brainless head! he's an outstandingly attentive, smart and brave defender, seems to have great memory (in high contrast to Siffrin-) as he is ALWAYS giving out useful information and clearly has high levels of emotional intelligence! not to mention how, although he's a very manly character, he doesn't seem to display a trace of toxic masculinity as he is not afraid to be vulnerable, fashionable or affectionate

Bonnie is not merely a naive angry child, they're a hardworking kid who's always trying their best to be as helpful as possible to their caretakers, keeping full grown adults well fed with the meals they prepare all the while they're doing their best efforts to save their sister from being eternally frozen...

and Siffrin... where do I even begin? do I even need to elaborate? to me, they're simply one of the most intriguing and puzzling main characters ever (in the best way possible!), who's a constant enigma even though we're playing through his pov and, therefore, reading their thoughts. one of the best uses I've ever seen of the memory loss trope. although he's supposed to be the party's comic relief and is capable of being very witty and smooth, he's HEAVILY emotionally charged and goes through some trouble interacting socially, frequently taking things too literally and not knowing how to handle more complex emotions. they can be silly from time to time, but they're not to be underestimated too, showcasing many skills and how reliable they can be early on

everyone's individuality is extremely well portrayed and it only gets better as they complement each other so well. they feel like actual people and are THE found family, y'know, it's pretty challenging to not get charmed so easily </3

[mjf-af]

'I have never been good with things around my neck.'

TIFF HAS A TASER IN HER BRA HAHAHAHA

'marty wanted to adjust his tie again' PFTH

What! Setting this more of their canon ages? Well it is a good opening for the start of their lives. Spoilers for the prompt under more

Also if you are wondering about Marty’s plan, this isn’t fully set in this universe I’m currently writing but it is pretty much the same thing, a few tweaks here and there.

[cintiri]

I've read like all 4 docs on ao3 about SY and SJ sharing a body, and I'm soooo not normal about this concept oh my God. So, it's time to ramble about my take on the concept, of course.

Most things I have read have SY transmigrate at his usual date, but... What if he didn't? What if he transmigrated when SJ was a child on the streets?

For the purposes of this, the person who has the most control of the body is based around soul strength, willpower, and collaboration between souls.

In the beginning, SY has very low soul strength, since he just straight up died, but being a child, SJ's is not much better. They both have obscene amounts of willpower, see canon. And at the beginning? Oh, SJ does NOT want to collaborate.

SY hasn't really gotten the whole "baby scum villain" thing yet, and thinks his soul has been glued to a particularly annoying street kid, so he tries to be patient with SJ, but it's not easy! Holy shit, this kid is a turbo brat who hates him! He is constantly threatening to exorcize SY! Like, kid, you can't exorcize me, you're eight. But SY does end up being useful at times, pointing out danger, reading signs that SJ can't, using his adult knowledge to help him as best he can. By the time they get to the Qiu manor, SJ grudgingly trusts and is maybe attached to his weird ghost hanger-on.

And then the Qiu manor hits. It's... Bad. Really bad. Qi-Ge is gone, hopefully to come back to them someday, but someday is not now, and they need to survive the day. Shen Yuan can't get over the fact that this is just a kid, that all of this is happening to a child. He is an adult, maybe he's not the most responsible adult, or the best person to handle this situation, but damn it SY has to do something.

The first time Shen Yuan takes over completely, it's during a beating in the first week. Before, even if SY had some control of the body, SJ was usually able to yank it back at least partially when he wanted to. He was aware of what was going on. But this time, Shen Jiu feels the first few strikes hit his back before Shen Yuan bubbles up, wrapping around him and pulling him down into blissful oblivion.

When Shen Jiu wakes up, it's over, and Shen Yuan is using some meager supplies he got from god knows where to tend to their wounds. Shen Jiu is scared, he didn't know Shen Yuan could take over that completely, but he's also... Relieved. And confused.

"Why did you take over then? If you really could steal my body, why didn't you do it earlier?"

"You didn't deserve that, Shen Jiu. I- how could I see that and not try and help? Not try and protect you?"

Shen Jiu froze. And then, slowly, started crying. Almost immediately SY starts fussing, asking if their wounds hurt too badly, if he needs him to dull the pain more. SJ sniffles, wiping his eyes, and asks; "More?"

Shen Yuan never explains that, but as SJ goes through the Qiu manor, he realizes that he is absolutely not in as much pain as he really should be. It's easier to bear when the pain is shared between the two of them.

The first time that Qiu Jianluo realizes something is off is during one of his lessons. As the brush is placed in Shen Jiu's hands, the angry, venomous child behind a mask of fear fades away, and he is instead facing calm indifference. The characters are perfect, every one of them, even the ones which there is no possible way Shen Jiu should have been able to know.

This pattern continues. Shen Jiu knows things he shouldn't. He is abnormally good at talking circles around guards and other servants, confusing and manipulating them enough to evade Qiu Jianluos summons in ways that couldn't possibly be his fault, orchestrating many of their confrontations with Qiu Haitang around as protection.

Shen Jiu is a good actor, he's smart, he's quick, but he isn't a fully grown adult master poser like our Shen Yuan is. Shen Yuan, number one rules lawyer and actor, is incredibly good at driving Qiu Jianluo up the wall without him being able to retaliate, and when he does manage to get in a beating, SJ/SY is not nearly as responsive to the pain as he should be, and heals faster than he should.

This is because the lovely new flowers that Qiu Haitang has planted in the garden at SJs kind suggestion are a PIDW plant that provides accelerated healing.

Eventually, it's too much, and Qiu Jianluo KNOWS something is up. He calls a rogue cultivator by the name of Wu Yanzi in to investigate the problem, and Wu Yanzi finds, and exorcises it. Shen Jiu is terrified and panicked, and Wu Yanzi, who had seen Shen Jiu's high spiritual potential, places Shen Yuan into a spirit trapping pouch and tells Shen Jiu to burn the Qiu manor to the ground and bring him as much money and jewelry as possible if he wants his little ghost back.

So the Qiu Manor burns, and Shen Jiu joins Wu Yanzi, significantly less willingly this time. Qi-Ge is nowhere to be seen, and Shen Yuan isn't there to save him anymore.

Shen Jiu supposes he will have to save himself.

[snezka-049]

SCP-049 is literally a dangerous anomaly. He's incredibly smart, strong, 500+ y.o, serious personality. I don't like the headcanons on him, which are unresonable and are a projection of personal desires. It ruins the initial concept and meaning of the character.

It's all because of the pestilence

[reallyromealone]

Part 3 to rindo x reader succubus where reader meets the rest of them and chaos once they see how innocent he is.

Title: dinners

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: bonten

Fic type: fluff, NSFW themes

Pairings: Rindō x male reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, demon au, smut themes

Notes:

Summary: bonten can't contain their curiosity and invites reader to dinner, Mikey finds he likes his new Omega pack mate

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Who knew Ran would take such a liking to his brother in law, doting on him and claiming him as the new baby sibling "sorry Rinny~ you got replaced!" Why? Why was (name) so beloved by the eldest?

Well the adorable Omega not only let him sleep in peace but also made him nice and cozy with blankets and even got him ear plugs "he's clearly exhausted, so I set him up a nice comfy napping spot in the guest room" (name) explained while working on his project, focused on getting a good grade "how was work?" (Name) Asked while letting Rindō pull him into a kiss, whining slightly before being freed "we got a good payout and we're going to dinner tomorrow night"

"Oh that sounds fun!"

"And I have the perfect outfit for you"

(Name) Looked confused while Rindō watched him connect the dots "I get to meet your friends?"

Friends was a strong word but Rindō wasn't going to correct his mate who seemed absolutely giddy at the concept "there's rules though" Rindō said seriously and kissed the Omega gently " you never leave Ran and my sides, you only talk this the people I introduce you to and whatever you do, don't piss off Mikey" (name) nodded quietly, taking in the rules his mate set for him "now show me what you're doin'" Rindō pulled (name) close, looking to see the work he did "my omegas smart..."

"It's been my dream to pursue this since I was a kid..." (Name) Mumbled, getting comfortable while he continued work "gonna need space for that stuff..." Rindō teased (name) who hummed before a heat settled in his lower abdomen and his hips twitched "already?" Rindō had a shit eating grin before pulling (name) into a kiss and pushing him down onto the couch and began kissing (name)s neck.

Four sessions the night before and 3 more before the dinner (name) was dressed in an expensive suit though Rindō would have loved to see him in a dress, mumbling something about easy acesss but (name) paid him no mind, just happy to meet his mates friends and have delicious food. (Name) Held onto Rindō while they walked into the expensive restaurant, full of glitz and lights and (name) felt incredibly out of place, before this he was just a broke university student half blooded Omega and now he was linking arms with one of the most notorious people apparently!

Keep calm, keep cool...

You're meeting your mates friends! You got this!

"There's my little in law!" Ran said happily and immediately squished (name)s face "ran we saw each other yesterday" (name)s voice was muffled slightly but the eldest Haitani just sighed dramatically "and what a long twenty four hours it's been!"

"Is this the unicorn?" A voice called out and (name) looked to see a white haired man with the bonten insignia tattooed to the side of his head "ah, Koko! Come meet my little in law!"

(Name) Looked to Rindō for assurance and the Alpha rubbed his hip, Koko holding a glass of wine "ah... You really picked a looker Rindō" Koko looked (name) up and down "hello! It's a pleasure to meet you!" (Name) Said happily, a large smile on his face and sunshine practically radiating off him causing Koko to pause for a moment, so accustomed to the succubi in their world. If it wasn't for Rindōs own scent on the little omega, Koko would have assumed human or even an angel "the pleasure is mine, little one" Koko kissed his hand and (name) just stared at the action unsure what to do but Rindōs eyes sharpened at the other alphas teasing and pulled (name) closer.

Walking into the private room, (name) was startled when everyone had horns and tails out, they were all demons? "You can transform as well, the restaurant is owned by us" Rindō whispered encouragingly to his mate, (name) biting his lip before tentatively revealing his tail and horns, a bit smaller than the average demon but it's to be expected from a half blood.

(Name) Felt a bit overwhelmed in a room full of alphas but the large blond one with a goatee offered him slight reassurance with a soft smile "Mikey and sanzu will be here soon" kakucho said calmly, sipping his drink.

Rindō watched as (name) made small talk, polite and sweet as he always was while giving kakucho and takeomi his undivided attention through a conversation and the demons weren't used to having conversations with a succubus that didn't involve one riding them... Though (name) had been riding Rindō only hours prior. "So what side of your family is human?" Koko loved finding information on people, especially sweeties like (name) who were all too willing to spill everything "my sires side!" He said easily "and your dam was a succubus?"

(Name) Nodded, sipping his drink when the doors opened and (name) locked eyes with pure obsidian eyes, before him was another Omega who seemed exhausted "there you are, boss" Ran teased but Mikey just stared at the other Omega in his space curiously, (name) equally locked on before giving a soft chirp to Mikey's satisfaction.

The alphas had no clue what was transpiring between the two, they didn't really understand omegas that well but Rindō decided not to ask at this point.

"So, what do you do (name)?" Takeomi asked while taking a puff of his cigarette and all eyes were on (name) who grinned "I'm in my third year of university!" He was radiating kindness and an innocence that shouldn't be possible in a demon let alone a succubus "I'm currently learning (study)! I feel like it would help a lot of people and maybe some animals"

How.

How did Rindō find this adorable creature!

Sanzu didn't care for people who were too nice, they were always hiding something and (name) was no exception to his suspicions but he held back, wanting to figure out the omegas angle. "How'd you two meet?" And now it was Rindōs turn to be suspicious of Sanzu, eyes sharpening at his question "ah... That's a bit... Uh" (name) grew flustered "he wouldn't properly feed from humans and went to steal energy though a kiss and here we are" Rindō explained quick and simple, hand on (name)s thigh while the food came in, (name)s eyes lighting up at the delicious foods and Mikey tilted his head at the other.

Mikey never showed his omega side, in his life that was dangerous but couldn't help but be curious to the newest Omega in his little pack, the little one immediately deferring to him in a subconscious level.

And anyone in the pack belonged to Mikey, it was just a fact.

"Come here" Mikey said simply and (name) tilted his head with a mouth full of food and stood, completely oblivious to Sanzus grin as thoughts flooded the pink haired man's head of what will happen to the Omega.

Standing before Mikey, the white haired man simply pinched the omegas cheeks with one hand and turned his head 'brothel? Sex trade?' sanzu was giddy "he gets to live with you but he's mine" Mikey said simply, (name) reminded him of someone special...

Rindō slow blinked but they knew what those words meant, it meant (name) was in Mikey's pack, the boss was still very hesitant with the Omega and would shoot him if he tried anything but (name) was very clearly harmless.

(Name) Made a confused sound but decided that this was just how Mikey made friends, heck yeah friendship.

The dinner continued on and (name) found the company of kakucho and Koko quite pleasant while he ate delicious food.

(Name) Was slumped over into Rindōs lap on the drive home, fast asleep white his tail swished subconsciously while the Alpha played with his (hair/nape) before looking at the omegas neck and frowned.

He needed a collar.

Rindō would have to work on that.