#Web-based Teaching

[aoenoida]

B.Tech Online Tuition, BCA Online Tuition, MCA Online Tuition, B.Sc Online Tuition

[safety-pin-punk]

Anyways heres a sneak peak at the new project. With some stuff hidden away. No timeline on when its gonna be done yet. I might be putting out questions and/or polls related to it as I work on it over the next few weeks though :)

[heyheyarnold]

Free ASL Class Online - Cincinnati State

For anyone interested in learning American Sign Language in a low-stakes environment, Cincinnati State offers a free online, cameras optional, all ages course. You can join via Zoom or access class recordings afterward if you can't attend.

More info, sign up, and resources from previous sessions are available here.

Link: https://www.cincinnatistate.edu/freeasl/#list

[lady-lauren]

❥ PORTGAS D. ACE X FEM!READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 1.9k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: ~surprise~ he's the virgin, experienced reader, face sitting, praise, use of "good boy", creampie, Ace goes pussy drunk but who can blame him

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

“Have you eaten pussy before, pretty boy?” 

The rosy pink that blooms around his freckles tells you no. Your sheets stick to the sheen of sweat across Ace’s skin, his tattoos glowing in the lamplight. His brows are pinched as he fists his hard cock, twitching against his stomach as he tugs from base to leaking tip. 

“Bet you taste so good,” he offers a classic grin, tongue sweeping over his canine as dark eyes stare at the naked juncture between your legs. 

Convincing the charming second division commander to let you…teach him was a more difficult task than you expected. He’s still shielding innocence behind bravado. No one else on the crew knows he’s a virgin—he only told you after one too many at the bar, when your hand started tugging on his belt and his face flushed red beneath the shadow of his hat.

It took weeks of gentle prodding and lustful teasing to fully wind your siren song.

You grip his chin, pressing your mouth to his in a greedy kiss that has him groaning. His lips are soft, plump and hot, so comfortably melding into your movements, slanting and sucking and whimpering. He’s a quick learner, so happy to please.

Quickly, you replace your mouth with a thigh, Ace’s warm lips ghosting across your skin as you settle your hips above his face. The view of him is immaculate, all perfectly carved muscle and his fat cock drooling between thick thighs.

Strong arms lock around your legs, eager to bring your wet cunt to his mouth and lick a testing, teasing hot stripe between your folds. 

“Easy,” you gasp when he presses the tip of his tongue to your swollen clit, “I don’t wanna smother—”

“I’ll die happy,” he pulls your weight farther down, shoving his face between the fat of your thighs. 

“Slow,” you rock your hips over his mouth, lashes fluttering as he listens and gives you several long, languid rolls of his tongue through your folds, “just like that, yeah.”

Ace hums at the praise, cock jumping and begging for attention. 

Big hands bruise your hips and thighs as he grips you for dear life, groaning and pulling like he’s going mad beneath you.

“Use your tongue on my cl—” he acts before you hit the last consonant, making your tummy flutter as he swirls sloppily around your clit. 

“So messy,” Ace mumbles into your pussy, slurping and sucking against your swollen bud. Your thighs shake as you moan, pressing your hands against his plush chest to gain balance.

“You like the taste of my messy pussy, Ace?” your words are breathy, losing their edge as webs of pleasure start to crawl underneath your skin. 

“Fuck yeah, taste better than I dreamed,” his affirmation vibrates to your very core.

Your vision blurs with bliss, yet you can still make out his dripping cock, swollen red and weeping and begging for release against the black, downy hair of his stomach. Sticky pre-cum leaks from his flushed head, pooling into his skin as his cock bobs for you. 

His cock is so tempting, veiny and fat and just the perfect length to make a girl scream. How he’s kept to himself for so long, you’ll never know.

“Oh, you’re so, so good,” you moan and jerk your hips from his ministrations, “put your tongue in me, please.”

You feel the way he grins at your plea, wicked and self-satisfied. His tongue is slow to leave your clit, laving against it with too-hot, too-teasing flat licks. Then he presses his tongue against your tight hole, gathering your slick onto his tongue before pushing into you.

“Oh, oh fuck,” your legs start to tremble as his tongue thrusts up inside of you, “fuck, fuck, fuck that’s so good,” it’s all a messy whisper, just hot air into the dimly lit room.

Ace dutifully fucks you with his tongue, groaning and grunting into your wetness. His cheeks squish against your thighs, freckles smothered with slick. He’s quick and eager, breath hot as he drowns in you.

“Good boy, oh god, yes.” 

Praise makes him shiver, makes his hips buck as his cock searches for you.

But then his tongue is back to soothing over your wet hole, lapping slowly and pulling you away from the churning coil within your belly.

“Please,” his voice is muffled by your cunt, wet lips moving against your folds, “p-please, wanna feel you on my cock. Your pussy’s so soft.” 

Oh, that breaks you. He’s so good, he deserves to know what it feels like to have a woman wrapped around his pretty cock.

“Okay, okay, baby,” he moans at the pet name, kissing your cunt and slipping his tongue over your clit as you pull yourself from his hold. 

The look in his eyes is desperate as you straddle his hips, spit-slick pussy rubbing against his aching cock. 

“You ready?” you ask softly, leaning forward to brush long, dark hair from his face.

His bold front cracks as he grasps your hips, rutting the underside of his dick into your folds.

“Fuck, yes, please—” 

Air is stuck in his throat as you line his tip to your entrance, popping his fat head into your heat. 

“Oh god.” Ace groans and rolls his head back against the pillow.

“Watch, baby, watch how your cock stretches me.”

Obeying, his thick neck tilts up so his eyes can latch onto where you begin to sink down. 

You take it slow, gummy walls sucking him in inch-by-inch. You take note of how pleasure twists his face, makes him hiss and his pupils dilate. 

“So tight, holy fuck, your pussy is so hot.”

The stretch of him makes your eyes roll, feeling so full as you finally seat yourself on his cock. He’s so sensitive, cock throbbing and hips bucking like he’ll explode at any moment. 

“We’ll go slo—”

“No, no,” Ace sits up in a flash, shocking you as his arms lock around your back, trapping you to his chest, “I-I need more, need to feel, ah,” he grunts as the shift in position has his cockhead knocking into your depths, “more.”

He’s crude in the way he thrusts up into you, hard and fast. You moan and it keeps him going, crushing you against him as he buries his face in your neck. 

“Feels so fucking good, oh my god, baby, I—” he loses his words to pleasure, groaning as he starts a sloppy pace. He’s needy, clawing at your skin, kissing your throat.

“Oh Ace, mhm, you like the feel of me?”

“Never felt something so good in my fucking life.”

Desperately he pushes you down onto the bed, gripping the back of your knees as he uses his strength to thrust into your cunt. He’s wild above you, sweat dripping down his forehead and jaw clenched as he chases a new high. 

You mewl at the position, back arching as you reach for his thighs, pulling him into you.

“T-this okay? Am I hurting you?”

“Don’t stop, baby, keep going.”

You moan as he puts more weight on his hands, rolling your hips back.

The purr in his chest makes your lashes flutter, ecstasy rippling down to where he thrusts hard between your legs. Your pussy squishes around him, a thick vein on the underside of his cock pressing hotly to your walls.

You’re already so close to the edge from sitting on his face, clit puffy as his pelvis pushes into you. He slows down a bit, catching his breath and just grinding himself into your heat. 

Ace whines, overwhelmed as he searches for some kind of absolution in your cunt. 

“Does that feel good?” he releases your knees and leans over your body, fisting the hair at the nape of your neck as he presses a messy kiss to your mouth. 

“So good, you feel so good. Go faster, rub my clit, see what it feels like when I cum.”

“Yeah,” he moans as he sits back on his knees, eyes transfixed on the thick ring of cream you’ve left around his base, “gonna make you cum.”

Having a goal kicks him into a new gear, makes his hips move with a purpose and steady quick pace. 

Ace paws at your bouncing tits, thumbs rolling over your nipples and pinching when they harden. His touch is clumsy and a bit delicate and it makes you hot. 

He’s never felt a woman like this before, never lost himself into the chaos of bliss. 

You’re his first and that does something wild to your ego. To have a man like Ace beg for you, to be able to teach him how to fuck you, it all makes your head spin.

A big hand smoothes down your stomach, pausing right at where you spread around him. 

He takes a few moments to keep barreling into you, getting high off the sounds you make. 

“How should I…?”

“Thumb,” you gasp right as he hits a good spot within you, “circle your thumb over—”

You whimper as he listens to your demand, the thick pad of his thumb swirling over your clit in tight, fast circles. 

“Fuck! That’s it, so good, right there, yes!” 

You’re sure the thin walls can’t keep your screams to themselves, but you’re past a point of caring. Your focus is solely on the liquid heat building where Ace’s thumb rubs against you, lightning and shivers racing down your spine. Your legs go limp and your hands twist in the sheets, hips slamming over his cock as you chase the falling edge of pleasure.

“God you’re so fucking hot, wanna feel your pussy cum, baby. Wanna feel you get so fucking tight and milk my dick.”

The mouth on this man. You knew he’d be vocal but his words make you drunk, dizzy. A whiplash of his naive confidence. 

He keeps tight circles on your clit, his other hand reaching down to cup your ass and slide his thumb next to where his cock spears into your folds. He spreads you there, like he’s curious to see what happens, to see how your pussy reacts and feels. The extra tug makes you feel fuller, wetter as he smears your slick.

“Come on,” he’s starting to falter a bit, cock throbbing, “come on, cum for me, please, please cum for me.” 

His pleading throws you off the cliff, makes your cunt clamp down around him and wring every ounce of pleasure from your body. He bullies in one last thrust, creating a fresh, euphoric jolt splinter down your body. 

Your eyes open just in time to watch Ace come undone, head thrown back as he empties his balls into your tight pussy. His muscular chest rises and falls slowly, cheeks so pink he looks sun kissed. He’s pretty all blissed out, yet so powerful above you.

“You okay?”

Your voice is a little hoarse as you grab his attention, his eyes shining down on you with a mixture of curiosity and delight.

“Wanna do that again,” he groans and lays over you, wrapping his arms around your body and keeping his messy cock lodged deep inside of you, “want you to show me all the positions.” 

“All of them? There’s so many—”

“You promised to teach me, baby. And I bet I can make you cum every time.”

You know better than to bet against him.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Even if you think AI search could be good, it won’t be good

TONIGHT (May 15), I'm in NORTH HOLLYWOOD for a screening of STEPHANIE KELTON'S FINDING THE MONEY; FRIDAY (May 17), I'm at the INTERNET ARCHIVE in SAN FRANCISCO to keynote the 10th anniversary of the AUTHORS ALLIANCE.

The big news in search this week is that Google is continuing its transition to "AI search" – instead of typing in search terms and getting links to websites, you'll ask Google a question and an AI will compose an answer based on things it finds on the web:

https://blog.google/products/search/generative-ai-google-search-may-2024/

Google bills this as "let Google do the googling for you." Rather than searching the web yourself, you'll delegate this task to Google. Hidden in this pitch is a tacit admission that Google is no longer a convenient or reliable way to retrieve information, drowning as it is in AI-generated spam, poorly labeled ads, and SEO garbage:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/03/keyword-swarming/#site-reputation-abuse

Googling used to be easy: type in a query, get back a screen of highly relevant results. Today, clicking the top links will take you to sites that paid for placement at the top of the screen (rather than the sites that best match your query). Clicking further down will get you scams, AI slop, or bulk-produced SEO nonsense.

AI-powered search promises to fix this, not by making Google search results better, but by having a bot sort through the search results and discard the nonsense that Google will continue to serve up, and summarize the high quality results.

Now, there are plenty of obvious objections to this plan. For starters, why wouldn't Google just make its search results better? Rather than building a LLM for the sole purpose of sorting through the garbage Google is either paid or tricked into serving up, why not just stop serving up garbage? We know that's possible, because other search engines serve really good results by paying for access to Google's back-end and then filtering the results:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

Another obvious objection: why would anyone write the web if the only purpose for doing so is to feed a bot that will summarize what you've written without sending anyone to your webpage? Whether you're a commercial publisher hoping to make money from advertising or subscriptions, or – like me – an open access publisher hoping to change people's minds, why would you invite Google to summarize your work without ever showing it to internet users? Nevermind how unfair that is, think about how implausible it is: if this is the way Google will work in the future, why wouldn't every publisher just block Google's crawler?

A third obvious objection: AI is bad. Not morally bad (though maybe morally bad, too!), but technically bad. It "hallucinates" nonsense answers, including dangerous nonsense. It's a supremely confident liar that can get you killed:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2023/sep/01/mushroom-pickers-urged-to-avoid-foraging-books-on-amazon-that-appear-to-be-written-by-ai

The promises of AI are grossly oversold, including the promises Google makes, like its claim that its AI had discovered millions of useful new materials. In reality, the number of useful new materials Deepmind had discovered was zero:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/23/maximal-plausibility/#reverse-centaurs

This is true of all of AI's most impressive demos. Often, "AI" turns out to be low-waged human workers in a distant call-center pretending to be robots:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/31/neural-interface-beta-tester/#tailfins

Sometimes, the AI robot dancing on stage turns out to literally be just a person in a robot suit pretending to be a robot:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

The AI video demos that represent "an existential threat to Hollywood filmmaking" turn out to be so cumbersome as to be practically useless (and vastly inferior to existing production techniques):

https://www.wheresyoured.at/expectations-versus-reality/

But let's take Google at its word. Let's stipulate that:

a) It can't fix search, only add a slop-filtering AI layer on top of it; and

b) The rest of the world will continue to let Google index its pages even if they derive no benefit from doing so; and

c) Google will shortly fix its AI, and all the lies about AI capabilities will be revealed to be premature truths that are finally realized.

AI search is still a bad idea. Because beyond all the obvious reasons that AI search is a terrible idea, there's a subtle – and incurable – defect in this plan: AI search – even excellent AI search – makes it far too easy for Google to cheat us, and Google can't stop cheating us.

Remember: enshittification isn't the result of worse people running tech companies today than in the years when tech services were good and useful. Rather, enshittification is rooted in the collapse of constraints that used to prevent those same people from making their services worse in service to increasing their profit margins:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/26/glitchbread/#electronic-shelf-tags

These companies always had the capacity to siphon value away from business customers (like publishers) and end-users (like searchers). That comes with the territory: digital businesses can alter their "business logic" from instant to instant, and for each user, allowing them to change payouts, prices and ranking. I call this "twiddling": turning the knobs on the system's back-end to make sure the house always wins:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

What changed wasn't the character of the leaders of these businesses, nor their capacity to cheat us. What changed was the consequences for cheating. When the tech companies merged to monopoly, they ceased to fear losing your business to a competitor.

Google's 90% search market share was attained by bribing everyone who operates a service or platform where you might encounter a search box to connect that box to Google. Spending tens of billions of dollars every year to make sure no one ever encounters a non-Google search is a cheaper way to retain your business than making sure Google is the very best search engine:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Competition was once a threat to Google; for years, its mantra was "competition is a click away." Today, competition is all but nonexistent.

Then the surveillance business consolidated into a small number of firms. Two companies dominate the commercial surveillance industry: Google and Meta, and they collude to rig the market:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue

That consolidation inevitably leads to regulatory capture: shorn of competitive pressure, the companies that dominate the sector can converge on a single message to policymakers and use their monopoly profits to turn that message into policy:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/05/regulatory-capture/

This is why Google doesn't have to worry about privacy laws. They've successfully prevented the passage of a US federal consumer privacy law. The last time the US passed a federal consumer privacy law was in 1988. It's a law that bans video store clerks from telling the newspapers which VHS cassettes you rented:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Video_Privacy_Protection_Act

In Europe, Google's vast profits lets it fly an Irish flag of convenience, thus taking advantage of Ireland's tolerance for tax evasion and violations of European privacy law:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/15/finnegans-snooze/#dirty-old-town

Google doesn't fear competition, it doesn't fear regulation, and it also doesn't fear rival technologies. Google and its fellow Big Tech cartel members have expanded IP law to allow it to prevent third parties from reverse-engineer, hacking, or scraping its services. Google doesn't have to worry about ad-blocking, tracker blocking, or scrapers that filter out Google's lucrative, low-quality results:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Google doesn't fear competition, it doesn't fear regulation, it doesn't fear rival technology and it doesn't fear its workers. Google's workforce once enjoyed enormous sway over the company's direction, thanks to their scarcity and market power. But Google has outgrown its dependence on its workers, and lays them off in vast numbers, even as it increases its profits and pisses away tens of billions on stock buybacks:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/25/moral-injury/#enshittification

Google is fearless. It doesn't fear losing your business, or being punished by regulators, or being mired in guerrilla warfare with rival engineers. It certainly doesn't fear its workers.

Making search worse is good for Google. Reducing search quality increases the number of queries, and thus ads, that each user must make to find their answers:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

If Google can make things worse for searchers without losing their business, it can make more money for itself. Without the discipline of markets, regulators, tech or workers, it has no impediment to transferring value from searchers and publishers to itself.

Which brings me back to AI search. When Google substitutes its own summaries for links to pages, it creates innumerable opportunities to charge publishers for preferential placement in those summaries.

This is true of any algorithmic feed: while such feeds are important – even vital – for making sense of huge amounts of information, they can also be used to play a high-speed shell-game that makes suckers out of the rest of us:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/11/for-you/#the-algorithm-tm

When you trust someone to summarize the truth for you, you become terribly vulnerable to their self-serving lies. In an ideal world, these intermediaries would be "fiduciaries," with a solemn (and legally binding) duty to put your interests ahead of their own:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/07/treacherous-computing/#rewilding-the-internet

But Google is clear that its first duty is to its shareholders: not to publishers, not to searchers, not to "partners" or employees.

AI search makes cheating so easy, and Google cheats so much. Indeed, the defects in AI give Google a readymade excuse for any apparent self-dealing: "we didn't tell you a lie because someone paid us to (for example, to recommend a product, or a hotel room, or a political point of view). Sure, they did pay us, but that was just an AI 'hallucination.'"

The existence of well-known AI hallucinations creates a zone of plausible deniability for even more enshittification of Google search. As Madeleine Clare Elish writes, AI serves as a "moral crumple zone":

https://estsjournal.org/index.php/ests/article/view/260

That's why, even if you're willing to believe that Google could make a great AI-based search, we can nevertheless be certain that they won't.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/15/they-trust-me-dumb-fucks/#ai-search

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

--

djhughman https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Modular_synthesizer_-_%22Control_Voltage%22_electronic_music_shop_in_Portland_OR_-_School_Photos_PCC_%282015-05-23_12.43.01_by_djhughman%29.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[glowettee]

hi there! im a fan of your page 💕

can you give me the best studying techniques?

hi angel!! @mythicalmarion tysm for asking about study techniques 🤍 i'm so excited to share my secret methods that helped me maintain perfect grades while still having a dreamy lifestyle + time for self-care!! and thank you for being a fan of my blog, it means everything to me. <3

~ ♡ my non-basic study secrets that actually work ♡ ~

(don't mind the number formatting)

the neural bridging technique this is literally my favorite discovery!! instead of traditional note-taking, i create what i call "neural bridges" between different subjects. for example, when studying both literature + history, i connect historical events with the literature written during that time. i use a special notebook divided into sections where each page has two columns - one for each subject. the connections help you understand both subjects deeper + create stronger memory patterns!!

here's how i do it:

example:

left column: historical event

right column: literary connection

middle: draw connecting lines + add small insights

bottom: write how they influenced each other

the shadow expert method this changed everything for me!! i pretend i'm going to be interviewed as an expert on the topic i'm studying. i create potential interview questions + prepare detailed answers. but here's the twist - i record myself answering these questions in three different ways:

basic explanation (like i'm talking to a friend)

detailed analysis (like i'm teaching a class)

complex discussion (like i'm at a conference)

this forces you to understand the topic from multiple angles + helps you explain concepts in different ways!!

the reverse engineering study system instead of starting with the basics, i begin with the most complex example i can find and work backwards to understand the fundamentals. for example, in calculus, i start with a complicated equation + break it down into smaller parts until i reach the basic concepts.

my process looks like:

find the hardest example in the textbook

list every concept needed to understand it

create a concept map working backwards

study each component separately

rebuild the complex example step by step

the sensory anchoring technique this is seriously game-changing!! i associate different types of information with specific sensory experiences:

theoretical concepts - study while standing

factual information - sitting at my desk

problem-solving - walking slowly

memorization - gentle swaying

review - lying down

your body literally creates muscle memory associated with different types of learning!!

the metacognition mapping strategy i created this method where i track my understanding using what i call "clarity scores":

level 1: can recognize it

level 2: can explain it simply

level 3: can teach it

level 4: can apply it to new situations

level 5: can connect it to other topics

i keep a spreadsheet tracking my clarity levels for each topic + focus my study time on moving everything to level 5!!

the information architecture method instead of linear notes, i create what i call "knowledge buildings":

foundation: basic principles

first floor: key concepts

second floor: applications

top floor: advanced ideas

roof: real-world connections

each "floor" must be solid before moving up + i review from top to bottom weekly!!

the cognitive stamina training this is my absolute secret weapon!! i use a special interval system based on brain wave patterns:

32 minutes of focused study

8 minutes of active recall

16 minutes of teaching the material to my plushies

4 minutes of complete rest

the specific timing helps maintain peak mental performance + prevents study fatigue!!

the synthesis spiral evolution this method literally transformed how i retain information:

create main concept spirals

add branch spirals for subtopics

connect related concepts with colored lines

review by tracing the spiral paths

add new connections each study session

your notes evolve into a beautiful web of knowledge that grows with your understanding!!

these methods might seem different from typical study advice, but they're based on how our brains actually process + store information!! i developed these through lots of research + personal experimentation, and they've helped me maintain perfect grades while still having time for self-care, hobbies + fun!!

sending you the biggest hug + all my good study vibes!! remember that effective studying is about working with your brain, not against it <3

p.s. if you try any of these methods, please let me know how they work for you!! i love hearing about your study journeys!!

xoxo, mindy 🤍

glowettee hotline is still open, drop your dilemmas before the next advice post 💌: https://bit.ly/glowetteehotline

[aventurineswife]

HELLOOOO, i was wondering:

A reader that likes watch anime, and some HSR characters gives them a try. But, what anime would you think they watch with the reader? Based on what they like or just something to start watching.

I LOVE YOUR WRITING STYLE, please don't overwork yourself a lot, have a nice day/night! <3

What Anime Would They Watch With You?

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Blade x Reader, Kafka x Reader, Silver Wolf x Reader, Anime Watching, Humor, Lighthearted moments, Comfort and Bonding, Can be read Platonically or Romantically.

Warnings: Mentions of psychological trauma, Light spoilers for anime, Philosophical and existential themes, Violence and combat (in anime contexts), Emotional conflict, Mild language (?), Possible mild angst(?).

A/N: I don’t watch much anime, but my sister does, so I based the anime choices on what she’s watched and told me about, as well as clips I’ve seen on yt shorts 🫣😔 ALSO THANK YOU!! 🤭💖 I'LL TRY MY BEST HEHE

Aventurine stands in front of the TV, his eyes glinting with curiosity. His usual confidence is slightly tempered by the unfamiliarity of the moment — an evening of anime watching. He’s dressed in his usual stylish attire, the gold accents catching the light as he adjusts the remote with his gloved fingers. His gaze flickers to you, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"So," he begins, voice smooth like a well-played hand in poker, "what do we watch tonight? I suppose I should try something new. But, I must admit, I prefer shows with a bit of strategy — something that makes you think, perhaps a game of intellect or manipulation."

You suggest Death Note, the classic tale of the battle between genius minds.

Aventurine’s smile widens. “Ah, an excellent choice. A battle of wits, a contest of who can outsmart whom. Much like life itself. I must say, the intrigue here appeals to me. The protagonist, Light Yagami, reminds me of someone who knows how to play the game... and win.”

As the opening credits roll, Aventurine lounges back, his eyes gleaming with the same focus he applies to his work at IPC. The intricate web of psychological tension between Light and L unfolds in a way that mirrors his own thinking — everything calculated, every move deliberate. The darker twists intrigue him, and he often leans over to comment on Light’s strategy, or offer his own hypothetical alternatives. Every so often, he’ll pause to explain a parallel to a strategic investment move, his voice laced with a playfulness only you can appreciate.

The night is filled with insightful discussions, his enjoyment of the show evident not just in his words but in the way his eyes spark with intellectual thrill.

Ratio enters your living room, dressed in his usual academic attire, though he seems slightly more relaxed than usual. His hair is perfectly in place, and he adjusts his glasses, his piercing eyes scanning the shelves. He’s intrigued by the idea of anime, but like everything else, he believes it must meet the highest intellectual standards.

"I assume this will be a pursuit of knowledge, correct?" he asks, his tone indicating that he is less concerned with entertainment and more with what the anime can teach him.

You offer him Steins;Gate, a mind-bending tale of time travel and its implications. Ratio raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued.

"Time travel," he mutters. "The concept is fraught with paradoxes, theoretical inconsistencies... But let's see how this unfolds."

As the show progresses, you can tell Ratio is captivated. His usual dismissiveness towards “mediocre” content fades as he engages with the intricacies of the plot. He is particularly drawn to the scientific explanations of time travel, making insightful comments about the laws of causality. The intellectual depth of Steins;Gate resonates with him, and he begins to see the show as more than just entertainment but as an exploration of the human condition through the lens of scientific theory.

His stern exterior softens slightly as he leans forward, absorbed by the delicate unraveling of fate. At one point, he pauses the show to make an impassioned argument about the ethics of time travel, his eyes alight with the thrill of the debate.

Feixiao, in her usual battle-ready attire, steps into your space with her arms crossed, her eyes narrowing slightly in skepticism. She’s not one for frivolous distractions, but she’s willing to give this anime thing a try — provided it’s something that involves action, strategy, and perhaps a little bit of inner conflict.

"You’d better not have picked something weak," she says with a smirk, her voice unwavering. "I don't have time for anything that isn't worthy of my attention."

You suggest Attack on Titan, with its intense battles and deep emotional conflicts. Feixiao grunts in approval.

"Alright, let’s see if they can deliver on the carnage." she says, as the opening scene plays out.

She’s immediately absorbed by the ferocity of the Titans and the desperation of humanity’s fight for survival. The battles, filled with adrenaline and relentless pursuit, mirror the kinds of conflicts she knows too well. She’s particularly drawn to Eren Yeager’s inner struggles — the deep rage that simmers beneath his resolve.

"That’s what I like to see," Feixiao mutters under her breath, her eyes flashing with approval as the protagonists fight with everything they have. "There’s more to these battles than just the physical; there’s emotion, too. A warrior’s mind is as sharp as their blade."

Throughout the night, she becomes invested in the character dynamics, especially Eren’s moral dilemmas. The show's dark tone and brutal honesty about the human condition resonate with her, and she even offers some commentary on the combat strategies used by the soldiers.

By the end of the night, she’s hooked, her face flushed with the excitement of both the action and the emotional weight of the series.

Blade steps into the room, his eyes burning with a quiet intensity, his demeanor as cold as the blade he wields. His mind constantly in turmoil, he’s not interested in frivolous entertainment. Everything he watches must speak to the darker aspects of his soul, and anything too light-hearted will not hold his attention.

You offer Neon Genesis Evangelion, a psychological and emotional rollercoaster that digs into the deep recesses of human existence. Blade’s expression is unreadable as he nods and sits, his eyes steely.

The first few episodes grip him, and soon he is fixated on Shinji Ikari’s inner torment — the crippling isolation, the struggle to find meaning in a world that seems bent on destruction. Blade sees pieces of himself in Shinji, his own existential struggle reflected on screen. He finds an unexpected resonance with the show's depiction of personal battles and the search for purpose in and the search for purpose in an uncaring world.

As the show delves into its more abstract and psychological themes, Blade’s face hardens in contemplation. He doesn’t speak much, but his occasional glances at you tell you everything you need to know — Neon Genesis Evangelion is more than just an anime to him; it’s a mirror to his own fractured soul.

By the end of the night, Blade is silent, lost in thought, the weight of the show's philosophical questions lingering in his mind.

Kafka strolls into the room with her usual cool confidence, adjusting her black jacket over her shoulders. Her hair sways slightly as she surveys the situation. While she doesn’t often indulge in entertainment, she’s intrigued by your suggestion to watch anime together. After all, there’s something elegant about the concept of using subtlety and manipulation to achieve one's ends, and Kafka is drawn to that kind of intrigue.

You offer Code Geass, a series filled with strategic battles, hidden motives, and complex characters. Kafka smirks, her interest piqued.

"This might be interesting. Let’s see if it lives up to the hype." she says, her voice smooth and measured.

As the episodes unfold, Kafka finds herself charmed by Lelouch vi Britannia’s calculating nature and his ability to manipulate others for his own purposes. She’s drawn to the layers of deception, the way Lelouch maneuvers through the world with his intelligence and charisma, much like herself.

"Ah, this is the kind of show I can appreciate," Kafka remarks, glancing at you with a knowing smile. "Power lies not in brute strength, but in the subtleties of the mind. Lelouch truly knows how to play the game."

By the end of the night, Kafka is hooked, her mind racing with the complex political strategies and moral questions the show raises. Her admiration for Lelouch’s ability to control events through sheer willpower is clear.

Silver Wolf lounges in her seat, her purple glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. She’s always up for a challenge, and if anime is as much of a game as you say, then she’s ready to dive in. She’s looking for something that’s both fast-paced and unpredictable, a true test of her adaptability.

You suggest Psycho-Pass, a futuristic series that blends action with deep psychological exploration and questions about the nature of justice. Silver Wolf’s eyes light up as the opening credits roll.

"Alright, this looks fun," she remarks, her fingers tapping on her leg like she’s already hacking her way through the plot. "A system that reads people's intentions? Sounds like a game I could win."

As the series progresses, Silver Wolf becomes engrossed in the moral and psychological dilemmas the characters face. She’s particularly drawn to the futuristic technology, intrigued by the interplay between the systems that control society and the human minds that try to outwit them.

"I could hack my way through this world in no time." she chuckles to herself, but she’s also genuinely captivated by the philosophical questions raised. What is justice? Who decides what is right or wrong?

By the end of the night, Silver Wolf is already planning her next anime binge, eager to see what other “games” the world of anime has to offer.

[hazelsmirrorball]

F1 Elementary | Teacher! Oscar Piastri x Teacher! Reader

summary: It's Halloween in Box elementary and Oscar decides it's a good idea to play secret admirer and finally make a move with one of the teachers.

pairings: teacher!oscar piastri x teacher!reader

a/n: Excuse any errors english isn’t my main language. This is based off Abbott Elementary. If it's in bold it's a confesional.

 The bell rang loudly, filling the halls mixing with the loud voices of the kids that were heading towards their classrooms. The teachers patiently waited outside the door greeting every single kid that entered. The hallways were different from their day to day. Miss L/n had stayed all night up decorating the halls to make them spooky for halloween. People could probably say that she could be a little bit of an overdoer. Spiders webs, spiders, pumpkins, bats surrounded the hallways, clinging towards the halloween aesthetic scaring a few of the kids. 

"Hi! I'm principal Norris. I still don't know how I ended up ruling this school but might I say I love it here. I’m the literal king of this school, everyone does what I say, it’s like I direct them or something. There’s a lot of perks of working at Box elementary,  Hot teachers, smart kids and the paycheck. Being a principal is the best, so I welcome you to my lovely kingdom. But enough about me, let’s talk about my untalented and ugly staff so you guys can see what I have to work with everyday. Look, there we have one of our annoying second grade teachers, Y/n. I'll leave you guys to it and let me say if you need more beauty shots, I'll be in my office" Lando said while tilting his crown down sending a kiss towards the camera. He turns to the left and the camera slowly follows him walking towards one of the students eating a lollipop. Lando  quickly takes it out of her hand and eats it himself. He walks away leaving the kindergartener alone crying in the halls. 

"Hello!! I'm Y/n L/n. But around here everyone calls me Miss L/n. I've been teaching second grade here for about four years now and honestly it's a blast. I love the kids, I love the school, I love my coworkers, I love the classes, I love my mood ...Sorry l am rambling but in my defense it's one of the best holidays of the year. Halloween!  and this year is different because we got the opportunity to dress up. They also let me put the whole school in halloween decor. All the kids are so excited to wear their little costumes and eat candies. That’s why I had to step up my game. Guess what I am? No? Okay. Well I’m a bumblebee cause people say I’m sweet like honey and sometimes that is annoying, but that’s nobody's buzzness. Did you get the joke? Did you understand?  Because I am dressed as a bee? I know you got it, I see that smile on your lips, cameraman. Anyway, let me just get to the point, I teach second grade and around here we all love to have fun. Do you want a Frankenstein cupcake? I made them myself" She said with a huge grin stretching out her hand with a cupcake toward the cameramen while the kids in the background made cute cupcakes. Her face was covered in frosting and her costume was covered in glitter. 

Oscar Piastri, smiled as he excitedly greeted his first graders, exclaiming proudly “happy halloween ” as they entered the classroom, His  Mark Webber  costume intact. He watched as his little students entered the classroom all giggly while holding onto buckets filled with candies he had personally requested them to bring so they could exchange with their classmates. When the last student entered, his eyes trailed towards the end of the hall where he could see Y/n L/n handing her kids a lollipop while they entered. Oscar stared at her in aw, as she did a dance battle with one of the kids that was dressed as a hip hop dancer. Y/n stinger got caught on the door making her fall back as all the kids from her class ran up to her to help her up. She shook them off by saving countless thank you’s. Y/n threw her head back laughing at her kids following the action as Oscar stayed in his place being starstruck by her beauty. Oscar waited a few seconds to catch her eye and waved at her with a soft smile which Y/n happily returned. Being lost by the sudden interaction Oscar couldn’t feel the small child tugging on the side of his pants trying to get his attention. 

“Mr. Oscar! You are staring at Miss L/n again. You said staring at people was rude” The child exclaimed quite loudly making Oscar jump up and panick. He quickly crouched down to be at the same level as the kid. 

“Alex, what did we say about yelling?” Oscar said softly, trying to push back his flushed face. Alex looked down towards his shoes shaking his head. 

“That we shouldn’t do it. I’m sorry Mr. Oscar. I was trying to get your attention because I needed to tell you something but you were looking at Miss L/n. I heard that in their class they are making cupcakes today. What are we going to do? It’s Halloween we should do something fun” Alex said, raising his head and grinning excitedly towards Oscar. Oscar mirrored his expression. 

“Well, I talked to Principal Norris and he said we could race cars outside. So after we exchange candies right after recess we can race” Oscar said resting his hands on his shoulder grinning. Alex quickly squealed in excitement jumping up and down. Oscar followed his actions moving side to side. “Wait, what did you need to tell me that was so urgent?” Oscar said quickly remembering what were his true intentions. 

“I actually don’t remember” Alex said, making a thinking face. 

"Mister Oscar!  Jeremy is kicking me again" a kid screamed from inside the classroom making Oscar quickly enter the room to detain the fiasco before it got worse. Jeremy was quite the fighter and he didn’t feel like cleaning up blood today. 

Oscar Piastri didn't expect to like being a teacher as much as he did but now after being a  teacher for about a year, he was starting to get the hang of things. He enjoyed the kids' presence, they made things actually fun for him and the best thing, aside from the kids, was Y/n L/n. Having Y/n around made the teaching experience quite refreshing. She was around the same age as Oscar  but she had been teaching there for about four years just like her close friend and English teacher, Logan Sargent. Oscar had tried several times to get in their little group but it was quite hard for him to click with the teachers. It wasn’t that they were mean or anything, it was the fact that they didn’t take the rookie teacher seriously. Adding to the fact that Oscar wasn’t the best when getting social clues, for some people, it felt like they were talking to a child while they were talking to Oscarl. 

“Mister Piastri, I wanted to inform you that the camera crew just got here today, so don't be surprised if they catch your fine ass. You look quite attractive with that, costume." Principal Norris said, peeking his head through the door. Oscar  turned around with a scared look on his face seeing Lando wiggle his eyebrows at him. Oscar’s hands dropped stopping the two kids that were originally fighting. 

"Excuse me?" Oscar asked, raising an eyebrow at Lando making him wink at Oscar. 

"I'm just playing but remember that they...Oh look they are here now! Here we have Mr. Oscar Piastri. He teaches first grade and he's been working here for about a year, yet he can barely get a hold of his class but we are working on it. So enjoy your time with him. The hottest teacher in the school. Bye" he exclaimed while he left Oscar standing agape in the hallway with a camera crew filming straight at him. Oscar quickly took his glasses off, cleaning them on his pants nervously while the kids screamed as loud as they could in the back of the class, the kids once again starting their fight.

“First of all, I'm not the hottest teacher here, I'll leave that to Charles and second of all I have perfect control of my kids. Didn’t you guys catch on camera me stopping the fight? " Oscar exclaimed defensively while putting on his glasses and looking at the camera clearly stressed. His hair was now messy pointing to several directions as his  breath was unsteady. 

"Mr. Oscarl! Help me, Jeremy is still pulling my hair now" a kid yelled from the back of the class quickly gaining Oscar’s attention. He quickly ran towards the back of the class and the camera crew quickly behind him. Oscar tried pulling Jeremy off one of the other kids but he wouldn't move.

"Jeremiah, let go!" Oscar said while falling desperately to get his attention. 

"I'm not letting go Osc! She bit me with her stupid vampire teeth" Jeremiah yelled, still not letting go of his grip becoming stronger. 

"First, I told you even though you are stronger than me to call me Mr. Oscar. Second of all, we said no bad words in the classroom and that included the word stupid.  Now let's just try to be in a loving mood, it's Halloween, don't you guys want to be in a loving mood?!" Oscar asked desperately, trying to convince the kids to let go of each other. All the kids around them were unphased by the interaction, exchanging candies while the fiasco unfolds.

"NO!" Both of the kids exclaim pushing Oscar down towards the floor. He closed his eyes in pain waiting for a few seconds for the floor to eat him alive. He let out a sigh, dragging himself to one of the classroom doors praying that someone, beside Lando or Y/n, would help him out. 

"How are you kids so strong?! Verstappen!  Verstappen please, please help me. Verstappen I know you can see me" Oscar exclaimed as he gripped on the side of the door from the floor. He reached forward holding his leg desperately not wanting him to move. Verstappen stopped dead in his tracks staring down at Oscar with pity. His eyes were nearly covered in tears as he begged him to come and help. Verstappen looked towards the break room as he turned his back from it, taking a step into the classroom but not before quickly rolling his eyes at Oscar. Instantly the kids stopped fighting while the ones that were exchanging candies  sat down hiding their sweets.

"How?" Oscar mouthed to the camera while watching the kids stay like statues with Verstappen.

"I'm  Max Verstappen. Please do not associate me with the principal or I will call the authorities against you. If it were my decision, I would have been principal and I would have said no to this little filming festival you have going around here. But since l am not principal, I have to answer your dumb questions.  I am the other second grade teacher here at Box elementary. The only person I don't get annoyed at in this school is possibly Oscar. He isn't the worst teacher in the world but he isn't the greatest. Kids here can be little shits but I have them under control. Oscar on the other hand doesn't. He lacks control and I truly believe he's one of the kids."  Verstappen said to the camera while moving to the side to let into view a giggling Oscar Piastri exchanging his candies  with his students excitedly.

Meanwhile, Logan and Carlos  walked together to the break lounge ready to eat their lunch and enjoy their break. Both of them worked on the second floor with the middle school kids and they were exhausted.

"Good evening, I'm Logan and I teach seventh grade english. I've been in this school for four years and quite frankly still don't know why I've stayed so long."

Carlos sat down taking his food out of his neatly prepared lunch box while Logan took his mug to serve himself some coffee. Both of them took in the wonderful peace and quiet that surrounded the break lounge, something that it always lacked. But the peace and quiet was interrupted by the door slamming open and a visually alarmed Oscar  coming through, Verstappen following behind shortly after.

"I'm so done with those little pieces of sh.. You"  Oscar took a deep breath pointing at the cameramen. "Stop following me with those stupid cameras. You're making me seem like I'm a bad teacher” he said while his eyes twitched, making Logan hide a chuckle with a cough. He continued to drink his coffee attempting to calm himself.

"I don't think they're making you seem like a bad teacher, maybe you're just being one” Carlos  responded while taking a bite of his sandwich making Logan  "cough" even louder.

"Carlos.  I came to this school the same time Oscar Piastri did and it still surprises me that he is still here. There were fifty new teachers and surprisingly the only two left are Oscar Piastri  and me, I thought he was going to be the first one to leave, yet here he is, still struggling and still not getting the hang of it" Carlos said to the camera while fixing the nonexistent wrinkles of his button up shirt.

"Well, I have you know I am a great teacher! My students say it to me all the time when I get emotional. I bet you don’t even cry with your students. My students and I had a Halloween party, something that didn't even cross your mind to have today. We exchanged candies, had a dance party and watched movies. They love me. I love them. And all you did was bore you kids to death today, I suppose. What did you do? Make them read" Oscar responded angrily while looking at the peaceful Carlos. 

"Actually, yes. We read about the history behind witches. Something you can actually do to learn since you come to school to learn not to party. But I guess you didn't get the memo since all you did was go to frat parties in college" he said taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Jokes on you I wasn't even in a frat. But I just know your kids wanted lollipops and by the way I gave my kids lollipops and none of them threw them at each other so I believe that's progress" Oscar said proudly while looking in the fridge giving his back to the teachers letting them see the back part of his robes covered in lollipops.

"Congrats! You are getting better, Piastri. I am really proud” Logan  applauded while placing his cup of coffee down.

“But I don't think you should get your kids hopes up with Halloween. You should show them the gory things that I showed mine today. Real, scary, halloween movies. When they’ll get older they will thank you for teaching them how to survive a psycho. ” Verstappen responded while sitting next to Carlos.

"Aren't your kids seven?" Carlos asked, concerned, raising an eyebrow at Verstappen.

"And your point is, Carlos Jr.?" Verstappen asked while taking a sip of his black coffee. 

“I already told you, my name isn't Carlos Jr., it's just Carlos" he said seriously while glaring at the man.

"I will not stop spreading love in my classroom.I love Halloween and no one and I mean no one  loves Halloween more than me" Oscar exclaimed sitting down with his arms crossed. 

"Hellooo fellow teachers!" Y/n exclaimed throwing flower petals in the air while entering the break room. 

"I highly doubt it" Logan responded while looking at his best friend, dressed up in her vibrant yellow costume. She was holding onto a basket filled with sweets while her wings neatly placed on her back. Her hair wasn't styled as usual, instead it was pulled back in two braids with her antennas.

"Happy Halloween to you, and you, and you" She said, handing a beautifully devoted Halloween box to each of her coworkers.

Carlos smiled softly, Logan whispered a thanks and Verstappen rolled his eyes, but deep down he loved it. Y/n headed towards Oscar giving him a bigger box than the rest. Oscar blushed hard, taking in the gift in his hand while Y/n placed down her things. 

"Thank you, Y/n. I appreciate it a lot" he said smiling softly but his smile got wider when she sat next to him.

"You're welcome Oscar! By the way, I love your red bull costume. I really like the redbull drink. A lot of my students dressed the same. It looks cute" she said, playing with the ends of Oscar’s long sleeve . 

“Actually, Y/n. Oscar’s dressed as An...” Verstappen started but quickly got cut off by Oscar slamming his hand against the table. 

"Thank you, Y/n! I was trying really hard for that can look. I really like your bee costume. I know everyone was buzzing about it” he said excitedly while trying to hide his  blush. Y/n threw her head laughing hitting Oscar’s shoulder softly making Oscar blush more if it even was possible.  

"Thank you! I wanted to go all out today, I heard that the party was going to be the bomb.” Y/n said winking towards Oscar which made him grin excitedly. 

“You know about that?” Oscar asked confusedly, while taking his food out of his bag. 

“Yeah! My kids were telling me about some big plan you have after recess. I was so excited for the afternoon party I forgot to bring lunch" She smiled at her while opening a water bottle and looking down at her notes to fix anything that was incorrect for the party the school was throwing later today.

"Here, have my sandwich" Oscar exclaimed quickly, planting the sandwich next to her. She looked up from her paper shaking her head.

“Don't worry about it Oscar. You should eat, I can wait until later.” She responded by trying to hand it back at him but he shook his head.

"Have it, I'm not even hungry" Oscar said smiling softly while shrugging trying not to worry her.

"Thank you Oscar! I owe you one" Y/n said, taking a bite while Logan looked at the camera suspiciously while drinking his coffee.

"What? I'm not hungry. My stomach is filled with brownies, candies and cupcakes. Plus the cupcake I had this morning, if Y/n’s hungry I wouldn't mind giving her my food!! Or anyone not necessarily her, I give my food to everyone that wants it, look. Here have this kiwi" Oscar exclaimed while taking out the kiwi he was previously eating and handing it in to a kid that was passing by. The kid stared at Oscar weirdly before continuing walking.

"So,what are you guys doing tonight? Anything special planned in this spooky evening" Oscar asked, trying to change the subject while they all peacefully ate. Everyone stayed quiet but Oscar anxiously taped his finger on the round table making Carlos groan and speak up.

"Well, since you're being nosy, I rented out a movie theater to watch movies tonight with my girlfriend” Carlos responded, closing his book. Y/n squealed, turning to him with a smile. "It was so romantic. What did you get?" Carlos asked, directing himself to Y/n, but she simply shrugged.

“The kids gave me some beautifully made cupcakes, those that count?" She asked sitting next to him, Verstappen laughed making the two stare at him.

“It's sad that you want that to count," he said, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Don't listen to Max, he's just jealous the kids didn't give him anything because they are scared of him” Carlos said, rolling his eyes as Y/n fixed her posture awkwardly. 

"My kids love me, they know my second grade class is the superior one and they did get me sweets. I just don't like them" Verstappen responded, getting a bag of candy and throwing it on the table leaving Carlos in shock.

"Well, maybe you'll get something later, the night is still young" Oscar said suspiciously while looking at the camera with a smirk. As if it were by cue a delivery man opens the door holding a big strawberry bouquet.

“Delivery for Y/n L/n” the delivery man said while reading the card. Y/n excitedly got up taking it in her hands and placing it down on the table picking the card to see from who it was. She quickly smiled at the delivery man saying thanks before he left. All the teachers looked at the bouquet waiting for her to say who it was from.

"Who is it from?" Oscar  asked while standing next to her with a huge grin on his face.

"It says spooky berries from a secret admirer, " she said, picking a strawberry and eating it.

Logan, Carlos and Verstappen stood outside in the hallways with the camera crew Filming them.

"It was Oscar" the trio said at the same time while rolling their eyes.

"This is beautiful! The person that got me this has to know me really well, I love chocolate covered strawberries. They are literally the best thing to ever exist on this planet"

" You see! I know her well!! I got her that gift and went all out! I'm proud of my hard work and the smile on her face is to die for. So ha! I win Halloween" Oscar exclaimed happily at the camera while grinning.

"Breaks over, I need my teachers in their classrooms so they can take the kids to that dumb party Y/n’s making" Lando said entering the lounge and getting himself some coffee.

"Nothing you can do will ruin my mood today, Lando. So I will take that as a compliment" She responded, taking a picture of the strawberries.

"You got yourself that gift? That's sad, even for you L/n" Lando responded while taking a sip of the drink.

"Actually, it was a secret admirer," she responded, not even looking at him.

"Oscar, it was Oscar" Lando said, looking at the camera in the hallway while taking a bite of a strawberry he had taken from Y/n's gift.

"Also how are you guys enjoying the reality show we have going on here?" Lando asked, winking at the camera.

"I feel watched and stalked" Verstappen responded seriously.

"I didn't ask you. Oscar?" Lando turned his head towards Oscar who started to pick up his things so he could head back to his classroom. 

"This isn't a reality show Lando. it's a documentary for schools with poor funding so I don't think we should be proud of that” he said while standing up and putting his tote bag on his shoulder. 

"You know what I'm not proud of, the fact I haven't received my Valentine's Day gift yet" Lando said only for him to hear. Oscar shivers while looking at him with the same expression as before. "Now everyone chop chop. We don't have all day" he continued while applauding obnoxiously.

Everyone started leaving the teachers lounge leaving Oscar to himself to open the box Y/n had given him, he slowly opened the box and opened his eyes wide when he saw the gift.

"Oh, I've known about Oscars' crush ever since he started working here. But I love seeing the reactions he does when he thinks I don't know a thing about the little gestures he does for me. That's why I decided that I should give something back" Y/n said smiling to the camera holding the gift she had received from him. In the background you could see Oscar dancing excitedly and when Y/n turned around to look at him, he froze waving at her trying to act cool which Y/n responded with a smile while quickly turning to her classroom.

Oscar looked at his kids jumping up and down at the party and he smiled. He looked at the camera men and then down at his hands.

"I'm going on a date today" He said screaming while joining his kids in a dance battle.

Logan looked at Oscar and then at his best friend from the other side of the school gym and smiled softly at her.

"You asked him out, didn't you?" Logan asked, looking at Y/n.

"Yes, I think he’s cute." She responded while looking at the dancing Oscar. Both of them looked at how Oscar huddled up with the kids pushing a car to make the kids star driving. A few seconds in, a kid “runs’ over another ones leg making them cry.

“I though he meant toy cars?! Seven year olds don’t have diverse license”  

[seraphivonne7]

little drabble about @fishymom-art 's Shackled Branch UA

(aka Ivonne made an AU of an UA, therefore extending the messy web of AU's and UA's/silly)

((drabble based off of this comic))

smthn smthn corrupted vanilla lets shadow milk go, but in this au of the ua, corrupted vanilla was lying about letting shadow milk free. so he actually chases shadow milk around the castle, cat and mouse kinda thing. tormenting the poor thang. HE DOESNT WANT TO LET SHADOW MILK GO AND IS TEACHING HIM A LESSON AHHH TYPA SCENARIO. they end up in a ballroom and shadow milk ambushes corrupted vanilla. they fight.

gore and cursing warning//

shadow milk actually gets the upper hand somehow and manages to claw corrupted vanilla's left eye out. he doesn't mean to, after all he still loves pure vanilla and hurting the body means hurting pure vanilla. but its in self-defense and he's a bit panicked atm. so he claws out cv's eye and cv rolls away in pain.

smilk stands up and proceeds to yell at cv. " Is this what you want? To control people you love through fear? " stuffs like that. lecturing him basically.

he gets to the point where hes angrily looming over cv's crumpled form.

" If you're going to half-ass being a decent cookie, then I want nothing to do with you. "

pure, unfiltered anger. no theatrics, no fancy language. just anger thats boiled over and spilling out of smilk.

smilk expects cv to attack him again or spit back some righteous bs, but actually—cv trembles. a giggle can be heard as cv sits himself up. a smile is on his face. he stands up and swipes at the blood/jam dripping down his face, and the bastard is blushing. also their soul jam is cracked and bleeding jam, but minor detail :]c

yeah, cv kinda lost it. hes a bit more tainted and delulu in this au but mannnn 🔥🔥🔥 this scenario came to me in a fever dream after reading the comic el oh el (happy endings? whats that/silly)

also tumblr lowered the quality of my art so i will explode everything and then myself <3

[strawberrymochin]

𝐀 𝐬𝐢𝐩 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 ☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

satosugu x fem!reader

Synopsis- Satoru once came across a rumour regarding a cafe he visited years ago. Rumour has, it possesses the capability to whisk one back in time— to the past. He never took time travel seriously. After all it was a law of nature, a string left to be untouched even by jujutsu. Yet, now years later, he finds himself fiddling in front of the cafe contemplating whether to get in or not. 

Warnings- time travel!au, gojo travels back in time to meet geto one last time and talk to him without regrets, so so so angsty with fluffy fluff that makes one melt, deep conversations, emotional conflict, mentions of death & blood, geto being so soft with gojo, reader being so cold to gojo, cozy vibes, based on ‘before the coffee gets cold’ by toshikazu kawaguchi.

Word count- 4.3k

a/n- omg! i finished writing this in one day. i had this idea ever since i read the series. i really wanted satoru to travel back in time and meet geto. this is a fic i wrote for me. please tell me if this brings a smile on your face. comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. do read the book its amazing and yeah have a good day besties. oh and a yuuta fic is coming soon.

Gojo satoru, always had a big cocky smile plastered to his face. A smile which overshadowed his eyebags, his half healed melancholic wounds and his regrets. 

He loved being a jujutsu sorcerer. But often he had not. Especially, when past memories come back overflowing in his mind, drowning him out of the present. Sinking him in the despair of not being able to save someone who was so close to his heart. And he regretted it. 

He regretted the words he left unsaid to geto suguru, the one who once claimed to be his best friend. 

The one, who's body is lying, trapped in cold webs of death. 

Gojo wasn't a person who had enough time to reminisce about the past. He had to take care of missions, exorcising curses, teach his beloved students and save the youth of the young generation to feel less guilty. 

Most of the days being hectic which he'd spend with the same cocky smile, grinning from teeth to teeth. And yet amongst his tight schedule which only allows him 3 hours of slumber, he still couldn't get a brink of sleep without having flashed the face of his best friend. 

And the familiar feeling of having a lump in the throat, unable to shout out the words he intended to say. He intended to cry out desperately for geto to stop. To not leave him behind. 

But no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get one word past his lips. He just simply couldn't. Maybe because he knew geto wouldn't listen. Or maybe he was afraid of rejection. Whatever the reason might be, back then, now it's all excuses. 

Years later, the itch of unable to form those words still persists and it grows each day. Thrives in the threshold of the suppressed emotions gojo has buried deep in his heart. 

Yet.

And yet.

Here he was, standing infront of the cafe ‘lá láttes’ contemplating whether to get in or not. 

He used to frequent this cafe with geto during his first and second years. Before everything went wrong. 

Geto always found this one cafe, a bit peculiar with bits of comfort hidden inside. He loved coming to this cafe and always used to order pumpkin spice latte without the maple syrup. Odd indeed gojo thought. 

Though he loved the way geto drank up his latte, the way he used to gulp and nod satisfactorily at the taste being not very sweet. 

The cafe was situated at the outskirts of Tokyo, back in a narrow alley. It was a basement cafe with only 9 seats to offer. Most of the time it didn't attract any new customers but only a bunch of regulars, among whom geto was one.

The cafe still looked the same from a decade ago. Only a little to no renovations were noticed. 

The board which displayed the cafe's name was still covered with the big leaves of a money plant curling itself from the stand. 

Clang-dong

The glass door opened as gojo shifted his head to the other direction trying to appear nonchalant. He slowly brought back his vision to the person who came outside to dump the trash. The recognition rang through in his mind as pictures of the owner flashed in his mind. He has grown old, now grey tainting his previous brown hair.

The owner looked at gojo, dusting off his hands, as his eyes narrowed at him. 

“Omg, the blue eyed? Aren't you?” 

Gojo frozen for a second, mentally cursing himself for gaping at the owner. Smiling nervously, he nodded at the owner, “good afternoon.” 

“Haha, good afternoon, you've grown up quite a bit hah!” The owner closed the distance between them before grabbing the door handle and opening it. “Come in. Let me treat ya’.” He said, gesturing to him to come inside. 

“Oh no! You don't have to.” Hands vigorously shaking criss cross, not wanting to freeload. The cafe itself has a very few customer base, gojo can't sit right with the idea of freeloading. 

“Nah! It's on the house. Come in boy!” the owner dragged him in. 

Clang-dong

The doorbell chimed through the staircase as the owner guided him downstairs to the basement. The smell hasn't changed too, musky and rich with the aroma of crushed coffee beans. 

As expected the cafe was empty except for two customers, one occupying the seat very last to the third row. His back hunched over several magazines, scribbling information on a small notepad. 

While the other one was a lady in white, a big straw hat placed on her table while she read a novel with golden letters printed on the covers —‘The lovers’, barely looking up from the book. 

Gojo recognised her as a regular. He'd noticed her often when he tagged along with geto. She wore the same white flowy dress down her knees and always read the same novel. 

The owner asked him to sit on the counter and order a drink of his choice, passing him the menu card. 

“Pumpkin spice latte,” gojo said without bothering to look at the menu. “Without maple syrup.” His eyes growing foggy as distant memories start clouding his mind. He sighed, before turning to look at the regular seat they used to occupy. The middle one in the first row. 

Did geto still used to visit this cafe even after they stopped contacting each other? He couldn't help but wonder. 

“Do you know the rumours about this cafe?” Geto said, sipping on his pumpkin spice. 

“Rumours?” 

“Yes, people say this cafe can whisk one back in time.” Gojo choked on his drink trying to suppress the laugh bubbling in his throat. “Really? You want me to believe in this shit?” 

“Naah! But it's interesting, even a jujutsu sorcerer can't interfere with time.” geto’s crescent moons crinkled a bit as he quirked a sassy eyebrow at him. “If you could go back in time, who would you meet?” geto asked raising his eyebrows. 

“I simply wouldn't.” 

“Huh? Why?” 

“Because it's not possible.” Gojo laughed it off, while geto just sulked a little. He firmly believed that interfering with the flow of time isn't possible. It could distort the world and just simply impossible. 

He didn't answer geto’s question back then. 

He wondered why?

Maybe because he didn't have any reason to go back.

But what about now?

“Here…” the owner passed the pumpkin spice latte to gojo as he muttered thanks to the owner. “So, haven't seen you here for a while…. where's your friend?” 

Gojo stopped midway on his sip of latte, he looked at the owner and put the glass back down. “eh…you see…” he couldn't quite find the right words to say. Normally he would have maintained his composure and maybe even winked and said ‘sowwy I killed him.’ with a peace sign included. 

However he seemed unable to regain his normal demeanor. The mask he put on for so long was broken. And it shattered into pieces with his vulnerable self showing, bare to the world. He felt ashamed for no reason. 

“He…um is dead.” Awkwardly shifting in the round stool, he couldn't meet his gaze with the owner. As if he could see through him and will be disgusted by the truth. The truth he hated for so long— of killing his best friend with his own hands. 

Of abandoning the corpse unable to handle the burden, leaving it to rot. Gojo felt disgusted, yet he masked himself with the same cocky smile he was fed up of wearing and went to his students.

Oh how awfully obnoxious he felt. 

And how desperately he wanted things to change. 

Later that night, he kept on washing his hands for hours. Scrubbing his skin with his nails, scraping the hands tainted in the blood of his beloved. 

His hands were clean. 

Though the red splatters of blood kept appearing again and again. 

“Oh,” the owner gulped, shifting his eyes from gojo to the kitchen. 

Gojo opened his mouth once again. He had practiced these words for the past week. He was the strongest. Then why was he getting nervous now? He gulped his own saliva trying to moisten his dried throat. 

The pumpkin spice latte was still untouched. 

“I wa—” he didn't get to finish his sentence as the owner interrupted him. His old wrinkled eyes now had a dull spark. Dangerous even, saying to be left untarnished but as if compelled to a spell, he spilled the words in gojo's stead. “So, you want to go back in time.” 

If you could go back in time, who would you meet?

“Yes,” gojo lets out a shaky breath, wiping his clammy hands on the fabric of his pants. “Yes, I do.” 

He sounded desperate, for he'd been wretched in anguishing fraught, so long that now the cry echoed in his ears. He'd seen geto, controlled by kenjaku. His body, being used even after his death— a weapon. 

Is this the curse of being a jujutsu sorcerer? 

He regretted the very moment. If only he'd said those words back then maybe the present he was living in would be a bit different. 

If only he tried a little hard.

If only. 

“Why?” the owner asked him with unwavering eyes, piercing through his soul. “What reason do you have to go back?”

“I…there are words I need to convey.” Gojo gulped feeling hot and sweaty even though the basement was well ventilated. The owner narrowed his eyes as if scrutinizing him. “Can I really go back in time? I really need to tell him something.” 

The owner stayed quiet. His hands simply wiping the inside of the freshly washed glasses. “Sounds trivial.” 

A voice emerges from the kitchen as you handle the owner, a fresh pack of coffee beans yet to be grinded. 

“Wha—” 

“Y/n! Don't be rude to customers.” The owner said in hushed voice, which was clearly audible as the cafe was almost empty. 

You rolled your eyes at gojo and get back in the kitchen. 

“I'm sorry for my daughter's behavior.” 

“Oh…it's fine.” Gojo stayed quiet a while clearly offended but when the owner said nothing more, he stood up from his seat. That's right it was a rumour after all. Time travel isn't possible, what is he on drugs or something? He felt dumb for believing in something even kids wouldn't trust.

“I'm sorry for taking up your time. I'd like to pay for the drink.”

“eh…you're not going back?”

“To where?” 

“To the past.” 

“I…I can? It's true.” 

The owner smiled wryly before answering, “yes. It's true.”

Gojo felt like a dummy and his head spinning, he didn't wanted to believe in this, yet the slightest chance to meet geto and maybe change the future. 

“Though I would like to inform you, one can't change the present.” gojo’s eyes widened as if caught red handed stealing. He didn't get it, if all this was a joke or he was the joke. 

“Huh?” 

“You can travel back in time. That's upon the customer to decide. If you want, sure you can. But…” 

“But?” 

“Traveling back in time comes with lots of risk. And there are certain rules. One of them being— you can't change the present.” The owner explained now pouring the fresh coffee beans into the grinder. 

“What do you mean? Isn't a change back in the past followed by a change in the future?” 

“Well it's for the folks. However, no. You cannot change the present,” the owner waved his palm flat in the air, gesturing him to return to his seat. “You can try but the present will not be altered. A friend, dead will not be alive even if you try to prevent it.” 

“So are you still willing to go…even if the present can't be changed?” The owner shifted the grinded beans into the pot, ready to brew a handmade fresh cup of coffee, while waiting for gojo’s reply. 

Gojo looked back to the seat they used to occupy in the past. So what if he's still dead? If gojo can somehow share his feelings, or maybe even see his face— see geto, the real geto, the one who has its own soul and not controlled by kenjaku, the one who recognises gojo. It won't be that bad right?

“I still want to go,” gojo was disappointed, but even if seeing geto for one last time was possible he would not miss it. He'd regretted not acting upon his impulse before and he doesn't want to regret it again. Not now, given any benefit of doubts. 

“Sure.” The owner nods painfully slow, having gojo rethink if this isn't some vile prank. 

“So..?” 

“Oh, I'm afraid we'll have to wait for a while. The specific seat is now occupied by…um the lady in white. Y/n can explain the rules to you meanwhile.”

“Why? I can just request her to unoccupy the seat for a while.” Gojo suggested, standing up when the owner halted his actions. “Oh no! I'd suggest you not.” 

“Why?” 

“You see…the lady is…a ghost.” 

“A curse you mean…I can exorcise it.” 

“No. A ghost. Not a curse.” 

“Are you kidding me? If the thing is just a rumour you could just tell me the truth. There's no need to make excus—” The owners deadpan look caused his words to die midway. 

“How long do I've to wait?” 

“A little while. She will soon go to the washroom. You can finish your drink till then.” 

Gojo had no other option but to comply with the owner's words. He tried using his six eyes but for some reason it didn't work well as if the cafe has its own domain blocking out the powers of other jujutsu. 

A while later gojo had ordered two more drinks he finished sipping and the lady was still glued to her seat. ‘what a bummer!’ he thought. 

You walked out again from the kitchen this time with a bunch of paper napkins. “Why are you still here?” 

“Y/n!” The owner hushed you again, explaining you the entire situation and ushering you to explain the rules to gojo, who was sitting confused. 

You hated when people came here to travel back in time. The fact you even hated yourself more than you've to be involved in this.

Rolling your eyes in annoyance, you step infront of the white haired guy. “I expect you know the rules?” You cocked an irritated eyebrow at him.

“Um…no.” 

“Ah…I might advise you to run away then. The rules aren't made for someone weak.” You smirk clearing away his empty cups for a wash.

“do you even know who I am? I'm gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer throughout heaven and earth.” he'd enough of your brat behavior.

“The strongest in your dreams…why are you so desperate to go back then? Do you regret anything you should've done but couldn't since you're a coward?” 

“Y/n!,” the owner scolded you, as you rolled your eyes again. “I'm sorry, she's always sensitive when we have customers wanting to travel back in time.” Gojo just nods at the owner. Your bitter words rang through his ears. And worse that you're more or less right. 

Do you regret anything you should've done but couldn't since you're a coward?

“I will be stating the rules…better be attentive.” You say taking in a deep breath calming your raging heart. 

“you can't change the present no matter how hard you try.

“you must sit in a specific seat for being able to travel back in time.

“you can only meet people who have been in the cafe.

“Once you're back in the past you can not get up from the seat. If you do, you will be forced back to the present. 

“Your time starts in the past once I start pouring the coffee in your cup and it lasts till your last sip of the coffee.

“That many?! Isn't it too overboard?” gojo interrupts you, his jaw opened wide hitting the counter. “Overboard or not. You've to follow…” 

The creaking noise hits both of your ears drawing attention to the lady in white. She slowly raised from her seat, flipping the book shut and placing it on the table. Emptying the seat, she went outside to the left, where the bathroom was. 

Clang-dong

Gojo looked at you. 

“Alright go take your seat.” 

What's so special about this specific seat? He thought but went anyway. Upon settling in the seat, he realised it’s no different from the ordinary chairs. Pretty much the same, however the temperature of the air surrounding the half of the table was slightly different from the rest of the cafe. It was a bit cold. 

Will he now go back to the past?

To geto suguru? 

What will he say? 

He'd practiced it so many times in his head, in front of the mirror, on his way to this cafe and yet he felt completely blank right now. 

He won't be able to change the present or the future, still….

You came over to his seat carrying a silver tray with a kettle of similar silver. There was nothing so special about the cups you placed infront of him too, clearing away the previously used ones of the lady in white. 

Gojo’s blank mind had millions of thoughts flooding now. What will he do if he ends up at the wrong time? Will he really travel back time? 

“You just need to imagine the time your friend was sure to visit while I pour the coffee.” You say, picking up on his thoughts, brewing the coffee now. 

The rich aroma of the coffee filled the entire atmosphere surrounding him. He wasn't really fond of coffee, especially hand brewed ones, he looked for the owner, his old eyes plastered on the glassdoor. 

“I will pour your cup now. Just remember to finish the entire cup before the coffee gets cold.” 

“what happens if I don't?”

“Then you will be sitting as a ghost in this seat until someone else occupies your position.” Gojo shot his head up to look at you, your eyes had the same deadpan look as the owner. “Just sip it before it gets cold and you will be fine.” 

You start pouring the coffee without allowing gojo anymore questions. 

He was about to speak, he didn't understand the last rule. What did it mean? But he couldn't get any voice out of his throat. 

A thin string of hot steam coming from his coffee gulped him in as if he was the steam himself, flowing up along with it. The three clocks surrounding the walls of the cafe now became big and blurry yet striking clear. Its hands are each revolving in different directions. It's not the time to think about what's happening. He closes his eyes, trying to imagine the day geto would surely make his visit. 

Saturday mornings.

Soon gojo’s waving body materialized as he felt his sensations back. His eyes still closed shut. Slowly he opened his eyes. The cafe was pretty much same. Nothing changed. Except it being totally empty. And at the counter a much younger owner. 

Did he really travel back in time?

But he was all alone. Geto wasn't in the cafe. 

The owner looked at him, and ignored. 

“Um…” gojo said, trying to get the owner’s attention. 

“Yes…oh the blue eyed. What happened?” He asked concerned, the wrinkles under his eyes looked much softer. 

Clang-dong

Gojo looked behind the owner, his breath hitching as his eyes widened. 

It was geto suguru. 

The owner followed gojo’s eyes and welcomed geto in. 

“suguru…” his voice barely a whisper echoed through the entire cafe. 

Geto, who finally noticed, freezed a while, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Satoru?” Geto gulped, before awkward tugging his hands back in his pockets, unwillingly walking up to him and sitting down at the seat opposite to him. “The regular…” geto ordered, before turning his head back to gojo. 

“Why are you here?” Geto asked directly. 

“I…uh I was just passing by.” He lied. 

Geto leaned back in his seat, his eyes unreadable. 

Gojo sucked in a breath. What is he doing? This isn't why he was here. He wanted to talk. But he couldn't find his words again. He gulped thickly ready to blurt any incoherent talk at him. 

Gojo didn't think anymore. He didn't cared about words any more, he just wanted to have one last conversation. 

“just why?” Geto hissed, “why did you come back?” 

He knew?

“I…ah..”

“Satoru you can't expect me not to know when you're sitting here in this seat.” He blurted frustratingly, bringing his thumb and index to massage his temples. 

“I wanted to apologize,” he met his eyes with geto, saying nothing for a while. The owner brought and placed geto’s pumpkin spice on the table, whisking himself away to the kitchen to leave both of them alone. 

“Drink.” Geto ordered. 

“What?” 

“Drink the coffee, you moron!” He let his head fall in his palms, before groaning. 

Gojo sipped the bitter coffee a bit, placing the cup back down to the saucer. It was still warm. 

“Why are you so infuriated—” 

“How can I not satoru? You know you're being mean. Why must you do so? Just sip the entire coffee and go back.”

“No!” he protested, maybe first time being so vulnerable to someone but he didn't care. “No, I want to talk to you!” 

“satoru ple—” 

“Suguru, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being with you when I should've been there. Sorry I turned a blind eye to you. Sorry for neglecting you. I told myself I was the strongest…but no I'm not. You asked me if I'm the strongest because I'm satoru gojo or I'm satoru gojo because I'm the strongest…let me answer you,” he took in a deep breath before continuing, “I'm not the strongest suguru. I'm not. I was the strongest— because of you. Because you were with me. Because we were the strongest, suguru. I'm the worst friend ever. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I couldn't stop you that day. I wanted to, desperately. I wanted you to stop and not leave me behind alone. I wanted you to think of me suguru. But I couldn't say that.” 

The cafe was silent. So was geto. He never expected gojo to burst out like this. 

“So…do I die or what?” Geto laughed at gojo’s face twisting into horror. “So I do die.” 

“How can you laugh?” Gojo asked him as geto pointed him to sip on the coffee, which he did. 

“I'm laughing at how messed up you look without me…did you have a hard time?” gojo doesn't answer him trying to calm himself down. 

“Listen bummer, you don't have to feel guilty. I chose this path on my own. And I don't regret it, even if I die. Just take care of your shit.” geto sighed, “though I'm skeptical about the one who unalives me…bet it’d be you—” geto halts mid sentence.

Gojo felt something wet in his face, afraid, he brought his hands up to his face, wiping it only to find his tears. Great, he just cried infront of him. 

Geto gulped thickly, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry,” he bit his lips before continuing. “atleast you could do is curse me a little at the very end.” 

Geto’s words made him cry even harder. He didn't try to stop him though.

“satoru, please don't be mean to me, gulp the entire coffee and go back before it gets cold. You wouldn't want me to go into another depressive slump will ya’.” he forwarded his hand hesitatingly, wrapping around gojo’s. He knew the rules of this cafe, and he didn't wanted satoru to stay any longer, considering the bigger threat that looped at gojo’s neck. He didn't wanted the coffee to get cold and gojo to be stuck forever in the time loop becoming the next ghost to haunt the seat. 

“Drink it for me, will ya’.” he said in the most sweetest voice gojo will ever hear again and wiping his tears with the other hand he forwarded the cup to gojo. 

Unwillingly, gojo gulps the bitter coffee, not caring for the aftertaste, his time would end soon. He grips suguru’s hand even tighter. He didn't tell him about kenjaku or the mistakes he'd made, but at least he didn't regretted anymore. 

“Be safe and healthy for me.” Suguru’s words echoed through his ears as he lost his sensations in his body, as if floating upwards. geto's grip on gojo's hand wavered as if he's holding onto air. 

He will not regret anymore. 

“I love you.” he shouted, uncertain, if his voice would reach to geto or not. But he did shout. And geto smiled. He smiled as sweetly as the ocean smiles to those who willingly drown. He muttered something to gojo which wasn't audible to him. And before he knew he opened his eyes in the present again. 

You stood up straight from the counter, sighing in relief, before whisking yourself back to the kitchen. 

“I'm glad you came back safe.” said the owner.

“Yes. Yes thankyou.” He didn't knew but his cheeks still had those tear stains the owner chose to ignore. 

He didn't get to listen to suguru's last words but he didn't regretted anymore. 

“Move.” the lady in white commanded as gojo immediately stood up walking straight to the counter. 

“I'd like to pay.” 

“Yeah. But the pumpkin spice latte’s on the house.” 

“Sure.” Gojo smiled brightly, and for the first time in years he felt it wasn't a mask but a genuine smile. He'd soon catch up with geto.

“ So that will be 2700 yen.” 

“Here.” 

Clang-dong.

The lady in white sat on her seat and opened the novel again; the one titled The lovers.

© strawberrymochin 24 | please don't plagiarize my work |

[poetryincostume]

I’ve been a combination of burnt out and uninspired and busy with work which means I have done next to no personal sewing for a distressingly long time. I did, however, teach myself to knit a few months ago after twenty years of failing and months of yearning for Audrey Horne’s red jumper (but in black.) I haven’t finished said jumper, but it is mostly done!

One thing I have, however, completed is reupholstering this chair I use in my bedroom! I picked this up off eBay in the depths of the first covid lockdown with every intention of reupholstering it. Four years, a whole new bedroom later and this totally period correct dinosauria linen, the chair is finally has a whole new life!

This Edwardian corner chair was in sad state. The base webbing was rotten and falling apart, and when I took it apart I very much regretted having this chair sitting as was in my personal space for so long so filled with dust and filth and rotten canvas.

Cotton and linen upholstery herringbone tape and a sturdy cavalry twill from my stash make up the base. The chair was padded with hair canvas and layers of silk-cotton padding from my stash sandwiched with more twill. Although this was a long overdue project, it was only half consciously planned so a lot of improv in terms of ‘proper’ materials happened.

To trim, all that I had to hand that felt appropriate was this vintage French fringe. It isn’t really right for a chair but turned out well as the body of the chair is pockmarked with its history of shoddy reupholsters over the years. The end result is ridiculous and kitschy and I love it.

Most importantly I have enough fabric and trims left to make a few cushions to match.

[mistydeyes]

Hi,if you’re not busy can you write a fic of Cod characters with a cia agent gf ?

yes ofc! yk i love a good little government agent gf moment :)

a double life

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: From hidden occupations to a particular set of skill sets, the 141 learns to adapt to having a girlfriend who has all the right qualifications (and who could completely kick their ass).

pairing: Task Force 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of weapons/violence

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

price

"Sorry I can't be there to meet you, Price," Laswell spoke over the web camera feed, "got tied up in South America." Price nodded as he held the bridge of his nose, Laswell had promised her best field agent to act as a point person for their mission in New Zealand. However, just the thought of some middle-aged retired veteran or worse yet, hot-shot rookie, made his headache pound even further. "She's a good one, Price," Laswell reassured, "skilled in practically every major language and the best marks in her physical fitness examination." "Yes Kate, I read her file, but it seems like you failed to include a photo-" He was interrupted by a sturdy knock at the door. "Looks like she's here."

As you cracked the door open, you practically dropped the files that sat in your arms. "What are you doing here?" Price asked jovially and you could feel the breath release from your sternum, "didn't expect an on-base visit like this." As the pieces began to fit together, you realized he didn't know what you were actually there for. "John, Kate sent me here," you whispered as you shut the door gently, "heard you're going to New Zealand." As the realization hit him like an oncoming train, you braced for impact. "You-you work for the CIA?" he asked almost foolishly and you nodded in response. "I did say I worked in Virginia," you corrected, "and you had to know my surprise visit yesterday wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment thing." Price could feel his headache reach a fever pitch as he reviewed your file again. "Then what's with the name?" he asked, "you lie about that too." You let out a laugh as you explained, "People have nicknames and mother's maiden names, John." As you sat back in your chair and crossed your legs, Price wondered what he had done for the universe to gift him you.

soap

Despite your initial reservations, Johnny was quite good at keeping your occupation vague and nonchalant in conversation. You were honest about your work in central intelligence and he took that secret to the grave. Your long-distance relationship was written off as you working in some company in DC and no one batted an eye at your occasional inference at military strategy or surveillance techniques. When you returned home, you would always be sure to show him extra appreciation for his covertness. "Tryna make me patriotic?" he would joke before you would kiss him and stifle his laughs.

However, he loved testing your skill set and seeing if you were as trained of an operative as your file read. "Let's see what they teach you over there, Bonnie," he joked as he lined up his sights at the air gun range. You refrained from kicking him as you stood back to watch him. You almost let out a laugh when you saw his small pellet ricochet just slightly off target. "Hmm and that's why Ghost is your long-range weapons specialist," you teased as he got up and switched positions. You breathed in as you looked down your sights and positioned your rifle towards the farthest target on the range. "You Americans, always so fucking cocky," he muttered under his breath before you quickly shut him up with a quick shot directly into the center of the target. The metal hen spun around widely at your expert marksmanship and you exhaled your held breath. You stood up and tried to size up your tall boyfriend. "Best 2/3?" you offered and you smiled as he kissed your forehead before ushering you out of the way to try again. "Fucking CIA training," he whispered as he got into position again. "You say something, you glorified sergeant?"

gaz

It was 4 am when you arose from the bed and leaned into Kyle, taking in his warmth and seeking refuge from the cold London air. You could always rely on your boyfriend to be your human-sized space heater. As you laid your head across his chest, you could feel him stir lightly. "Time to go already, love?" he asked with his eyes still closed and you muttered in confirmation. You always knew what challenges came with living so far away from the States but you had someone who made it all worth it. He kissed your forehead lightly as you rolled off the bed. You tried to quietly make your way to the bathroom to let him get some more hours of precious sleep but upon your return, it was clear Kyle was more awake than before.

"You sure you don't need me to drive you to the airport?" he offered yet again as you dressed quickly in dress slacks and a blouse. "MI6 is sending a car," you explained as you collected your overnight bag, "just try to get some sleep, my love. I'll text you when I land in Langley." Despite your soft kiss on the cheek, Kyle still pouted as you pulled away. "Don't understand why you can't be a liaison officer for us," he mumbled but you ruffled his hair slightly. "When the position becomes available, I'll be the first application on there," you smiled, doing a final check of your things, "just tell Price to write me a hell of a recommendation letter." With that, you shared another long kiss as you slightly cringed at his morning breath. "I'll be sure to say hi to the cybercrime analysis team for you, hopefully, they'll actually take my advice this time," you laughed before exiting out of your apartment and embracing the cold English air you had grown to love.

ghost

When the question arose of your occupation, you would always smile and defer to being just an "American government worker." However, you always knew Simon had more than just an inkling as to your occupation. When you spoke about military strategy, and combat techniques, or even had various conversations in different languages over the phone, it was clear to him that you were more than just a civilian. The shock didn't even resonate with him when you uttered the words, "Paramilitary Operations Officer," it all seemed to fall into place. He wouldn't bat an eye when it came to long stretches of days that you were in minimal contact with him. "I'll be back," you would reassure as you pulled on a dark hoodie and headed out the door with a bag. Simon would always be there to clean your wounds and ice your bruises.

It was a shock when Simon hadn't heard from you in a month. You had left in the middle of the day in a black Mercedes that disappeared off the English skyline. It was the unfortunate timing that he had been on leave when you left and there had been no word from Price regarding a new mission. Every morning, he would turn over in your king-sized bed expecting to see you smiling back at him. However, the days dragged on without any information meeting his ears. You could practically still picture his terrified face when you turned the key into the door and slammed your bag down. Simon paused upon seeing your blackened eye and wrapped knuckles. The eye bags on your delicate face further added worry to the situation. "Don't ask," you whispered as you fell into his chest, "intel was shit." That was all Simon needed to lift you gently and place you back on the couch. As he held you in his arms with an ice pack to your eye, you slightly pulled away from his touch. "I promised I would come back, didn't I?"

[kcrossvine-art]

i am beggin you guys to go check out Beastieball on steam

ive had it on my wishlist since day of the devs last year, and after playing the demo (should still be out right now) i can confidently say its the game im most looking forward to the rest of this year

its this ingenuis mix of pokemon/monster collector JRPGs and volleyball, with the addition of character customization, world exploration, and some pretty charming writing.

the thing that puts this game over the edge for me is the interactions and personality of your team of critters. each one has a range of color hues and size for its species which helps set them apart visually, AND THEN each has their own personality trope that changes how they interact with things around them. oh, did i mention your entire party follows behind you in the overworld? yeah they do and its adorable.

one of the core mechanics is the bonds between your party members- so far ive found rivalry, besties, and partners. they can teach moves to eachother and when 2 members with a bond are on the field they can pull off unique combo moves. the relationships are so modular and unique if you play consistently youll end up with this web of how each critter feels about eachother!!!!

the designs themselves are also charming as fuck. its made by the same team who made Chicory and Wandersong so thats to be expected

go check this shit out

[supernova1885a]

I love angst, make my fav characters suffer is basically a tradition.

So I have all this lore that I made up myself while playing based on confusing events and dialogues, so I decided to illustrate a little bit of what the transition from happiness = tragedy would be like in the relationship of these two. I don't know what the hell I saw in that spider but I love them and that's precisely why I'm going to make them suffer, you're welcome.

I MUST CLARIFY that everything I say in this post is not canon or is partially based on the canon of the game. Don't take this as something official, I just want to share a little of my interpretation of both the story and characters. Also that Shamura is a she/her to me, but I will refer to her as they/them in this post.

After Shamura found the others, they moved together to Silk Cradle and worked out what their new life would be from now on. Shamura made very strong bonds with they new family, but especially with Leshy and Narinder, although due to his insistence they spent more time with the latter.

They used to take him with them to their temple and show him the spider webs that decorated the place, as well as teach him to weave and other things. Being the eldest, they had to impart the learning of their siblings as well as help them assume their places as divinities. All with enormous love and affection that grew with the passage of time.

Years later, the five of them grew up and left Silk Cradle to begin to reign in their respective kingdoms. Because Narinder's kingdom was not earthly, he was the last to leave.

Shamura was the one who made and gave their siblings their robes, it was a last gift from them before not seeing them again for a long time. They could not hide their happiness, although along with it there was a slight feeling of sadness, but they knew well that they could not keep them with them for life and had to let them follow their paths.

Of course, there are times when with bad guidance the paths can go awry. Shamura loved their siblings, perhaps too much and that made them very permissive regarding certain actions that they did. Narinder was fed up with his position and decided to go further, breaking the laws of nature, Shamura had a bad feeling but when they realized it was too late. Narinder felt betrayed when they reproached him, because it was thanks to their knowledge that he had done what he did and now they was angry with him.

Maybe it was the tension of the moment that increased with each reprimand from they that caused him to attack them, maybe it was anger or he just didn't know how to control himself. From one moment to the next Shamura fell to the ground, a warm liquid began to stain their face, the screams of their siblings could be heard in the distance and a sharp pain began to overwhelm them. Fear, anger, sadness, pain, they had never felt so many emotions at once, they didn't know whether to cry or scream, whether to get up or stay there, until suddenly everything went completely dark.

Shamura was cared for by their siblings until they was stable, but the pain from their wound was not the only thing that began to bother them. With it came severe headaches, vertigo, dizziness, and memory loss. Despite all that and the harm their beloved brother had caused them, deep down in their damaged heart, they still loved him.

════════════════════ ⋆★⋆ ════════════════════

I haven't worked on this beyond the main concept yet, but I wanted to share it with you guys instead of just leaving it to writing and my imagination! I'm thinking about making a few comics about it, I have a lot of ideas I want to put down here. Thanks for reading!

[fujocoded]

Last 24—no, 48 hours!—to get your ✨🥠Fandom Cookies🥠✨!!

We're almost there: April 11th (one day later than planned) is your LAST CHANCE to sweeten up your life with some fandom-based Fortune Cookies!

Once again, Fandom Cookies come in 3 different flavors each with its own special selection of carefully-crafted fortunes:

🥠 "kinda vanilla", for the tasteful shipper

🍫 "chocolate doves", for those who like 'em spicy

🍋 "lemony prompts", for the scenario-ponderers

...all also in gluten free! Plus a secret FREE DIGITAL ITEM on the site for those who dare explore it.

Remember: your purchase helps @fujocoded (that is, us) teach online communities to take charge of their own web—not to mention hire fan creators to help!

Buy Cookies here!

...and if you want 15% off, check out our Patreon! Or, if you already bought them and now want MORE, use code ENCORE at checkout for free shipping!