#for it is my duty to spread the agenda

[kasururigoth]

kasururi headcanons pt. 2

ruri is the official Jar Opener of the house. yes because she's strong af, but also because kasuka has weak hands. and even if she didnt have her powers, she'd still have to do it.

they have separate bedrooms and different sleeping schedules (ruri sleeps during the day and kasuka during the night). although they do try to sleep together most of the time, usually in kasuka's room since he's more used to sharing space with others.

at the very beginning of them starting to live together, since they're both so quiet, they would accidentally scare each other off constantly. (MOSTLY kasuka appearing out of nowhere and freaking the fuck out of ruri who is always very deep in thought.)

they both SUCK at cooking. but it is fine because they're rich and they dont need to do all of that.

on top of that, I also feel that they eat very differently. kasuka has a preference for plain simple meals, and ruri likes things with more spice and flavor.

non-verbal communication game is STRONG. some may think it's telepathy, others, autism.

cats (and felines in general) are kasuka's special interest. at first ruri's impression of this was "oh, he really likes cats. that's cute :)" and then after a few sessions of uninterrupted infodumping it was, "wow... he likes cats a lot"

monsters (and horror in general) are ruri's special interest. at first kasuka's impression of this was "wow, it is so interesting how knowledgeable she is on this subject." and then after a few sessions of uninterrupted infodumping it was, "alright... she likes horror movies a lot"

kasuka sneaks up movie quotes in real life conversations all the time, he thinks this is something normal to do and most people dont catch up on that. the issue is ruri has actually seen almost the same movies as him and she's always able to tell, and call him out.

kasuka didn't listen to ANY music before meeting ruri. and yes those first car rides were quiet and awkward as fuck. but since ruri started to be in charge of the aux, he finally developed a music tastes and yes, it is just all of ruri's favorite artists. (i can make a playlist of artists i think ruri would listen to if you ask very nicely)

[licorishh]

anyway. drops them on your head like an atomic bomb

[jatsaro]

(from jan 2022) // pov: homoerotic staring contest, requested by Pseudandry on twitter

(alt: catradora but from my Pirates of Etheria AU [SPoP x PotC] bc,,, yeah <3 )

[starshadyy]

*HOLLERING IN THE STREETS, BANGING POTS AND PANS* PSYCHONAUTS IS 68% OFF ON STEAM RN!! AND PSYCHONAUTS 2 IS 75% OFF!!!! IF YOU HAVE NOT PLAYED THESE GAMES PLEEAA A,A S EEE PLEASEE PLEASE DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND BUY THEM YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT‼️‼️‼️‼️

[bressynotanymore]

Oops!

[kunikiiida-kuuun]

"Because if I had seen through Demon Fyodor's trap then, the girl would not have died."

BSD S4: Episode 4

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Trans Wakasa would look so pretty bulging pregnant.

Thank you for that beautiful image 🙇🏽‍♂️

Of course, just doing my duty. o7

[aclowntiny]

Me in my head rn: I’m going to watch the Spider mv again just to torture myself

[fivveweeks]

I JUST SAW TWITTER HELLO????? GOOD MORNING???? ;A;)!!!!! thamk you for sharing our insanity on twitter dot com and oh my god the thread on workaholic dante has me GRAPPLING GRAPPLING I SAYYYYYY

i hope u get ur brain worms out of ur system these two make me delirious as fuck godbspeepd my fellow verdnate soldier (ToT)ゝ!!!!!!!!!!!

-🎭

GODSPEED TO U TOO MY FELLOW VERDANTE SOLDIER MAY WE COME ACROSS ANOTHER AGAIN ON THE BATTLEFIELD

[bestofanimaniacs]

Oops I created propaganda posts/reblogs for them so you can spread around your favs or add your own!

Yakko Propaganda Poll

Wakko Propaganda Poll

(Original Poll - no propaganda)

[sun4r1nnity]

pastries and heels

my another fem!reader x police officer!suna rintaro agenda

It’s been a week since Suna started his night patrol duty in the area. The department had received numerous reports of suspicious activities, but despite his team’s efforts, they hadn’t found any solid evidence or caught any culprits. However, Suna had learned a few things during his patrols.

One thing he noticed was you—the lady who always looked stunning in a short pencil skirt—visiting the local bakery at 9:30 PM every day to get fresh pastries. It wasn’t like he was stalking you; he just happened to notice your frequent visits while on duty. Without realizing it, he developed an interest in you day by day.

One night, as you were getting out of your car, your heel broke, causing you to stumble. Suna saw this as an opportunity to get closer to you. He quickly approached and helped you up from the ground.

“Are you okay?” Suna asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You were embarrassed, and he could tell. The way your cheeks turned a shade of red and how you stuttered with your words was endearing to him. You apologized repeatedly, insisting that you could handle it on your own, but Suna wasn’t having it. The fact that you didn’t have any extra shoes gave him a perfect excuse to help you.

He went back to his police car, ignoring the curious glances from his colleagues, and returned with a pair of fuzzy slippers he had brought from home just in case something like this happened. They were obviously too big for you, being men’s slippers, but he insisted you wear them anyway. You reluctantly put them on and walked into the bakery, hoping you didn’t look too ridiculous.

Suna watched as you walked out with two bags of fresh pastries, your face scrunched in embarrassment at having to wear the oversized slippers. He chuckled at the sight and found your complaints about how silly you looked quite amusing. you handed him one of the bags of pastries, thanking him for his help. a smile spread across your face, and Suna felt his heart skip a beat. You returned his slippers, thanked him again, and drove off.

The following evening, your trip to the bakery felt somewhat lacking without the sight of the familiar patrol car. Yet, upon entering to purchase your customary pastries, you were taken aback to be handed a box of Louboutin heels by the elderly proprietor. She mentioned they were a gift from the 'charming police sergeant' who had been on patrol previously. After completing your transaction, you bid farewell to the old lady and departed the bakery, a subtle smile playing on your lips as you noticed a note attached to the box.

"Text me if they don’t fit: xxx-xx-xxxx or you could just come by my office ;p

-S.R."

[erinfern0]

cutting the cord

spencer reid x explosives specialist!gn!reader

— gender-neutral nicknames, gender-neutral anatomy, only pronouns used are you, they, etc.

summary: the team struggles with a group who planned to plant a bomb in a town hall to spread awareness of their cause. as the only technicians available in the area are busy with another emergency, Spencer finds himself calling you, the closest off-duty technician he knew, despite how much he hates the idea.

warnings: emotional, angst(?), some swearing, love confession, and obviously stress, anxiety and fear for your life, etc. cliffhanger

a/n: this was highly inspired by episode 'hero worship' from season 10 of Criminal Minds. I haven't written anything besides smut for such a long time I wanted to give something like this a try. Itt's also over like 2,5k words long--- (I'm so sorry i don't even know how i wrote it)

Doomsday Prophets - The group they were tracking started off small, with a bunch of troubled, unsupervised teenagers led by their online guru, who believed the system was too flawed to even try to repair it. They spent their first months spreading their agenda with countless flayers and graffiti murals all over the most popular places in the city. No one knew his real name, just the internet alias of doomsking130. Even the great Garcia couldn't track him in time before one of his sidekicks got brutally beaten for trying to leave.

Countless informants, and hours spent in interrogation rooms with lower-ranked members and the injured boy, lead them to the leader struggling with psychosis and an overwhelming god complex. He believed the only way to get people's attention was to set a bomb in a nearby town hall in the early morning hours, showing even the government can't protect people from the truth, at least that's what the team thought.

He never even thought there might be security guards waiting for him, informed about his plans by the FBI. As soon as they saw him entering the building via security cameras, they called no other than SSA Hotchner, who had warned them earlier that something like this might happen soon. His team quickly moved into action, hoping they could stop him before he set up the bomb, just to avoid getting help from Bomb Techs.

“Dave, you and I go from the staff-only entry on the left, Morgan and Jareau take the right window, the security guard who called left it open,” said Agent Hotchner, pointing the right directions to his team, watching them split. “Reid and Callahan, you enter the front and look for any worker left in the building.”

Everyone nodded in understanding, splitting and running to their destinations with their guns in their hands. Dr. Reid could feel a tiny drop of sweat running down his brow as he pointed another person toward the front door. People ran away in fear but kept their mouths closed not to alarm the criminals' leader.

Some time passed, leading the team to the building's basement, where the leader set up his life's biggest achievement. A small-looking detonator, connected to two canisters of gasoline, was set next to the power outlet. The arrest was quick, he didn't try any games or to run away, he simply allowed Agent Rossi to cuff him, because the damage was done.

Or was about to be done.

The bomb was already set, giving the team one and a half hours to deal with it as the unsub refused to help. He screamed about how the government tries to control the youngest of all to be their mindless little soldiers. How the system was set to manipulate the youth into dying for the country that didn't care about them. He laughed as Agent Morgan inspected the bomb from a distance.

“Y'all are a part of their games, agents,” he spat as agent Rossi guided him to the door. “All I spread is the truth, you're just too blind to see them using you. My kids won't stop opening people's eyes, even when you take me away! The Doomsday will come as they realize they'd been lied to...”

“Aren't you even worse?” Asked Morgan, crossing his arms with a displeased look on his face.

"How so?" Asked the man, suspiciously calm and smug as he raised his head proudly.

"Well, technically speaking even if what you're saying is true, the government uses us to help other people who can't protect themselves from people like you," said Reid, staring at the man as if he were trying to look at his soul. "You on the other hand pressure troubled teens into doing your dirty work to feed your ever-growing god complex, which almost led one of them to death."

The unsub seemed to be confused, that little frown on his brows, mindlessly staring into the wall behind Dr. Reid as he parted his lips as if he was about to speak.

"Seems like you used up your limit," taunted Callahan, smirking at him as he opened his mouth again.

He started trashing his arms around in Rossi's grip, spitting something out in some Slavic language they couldn't understand.

“That's enough,” murmured Rossi, tightening his grip and taking the criminal outside, leading him to the car parked in front of the building alongside Callahan.

“I'll call the Techs,” said Hotchner, heading outside to get his phone.

Some minutes later he came back with his arms crossed and that strange, disappointed look.

"And?" Asked Morgan, looking around the room, kneeling beside the bomb, and inspecting it closer.

"They might or may not be here in an hour, there was another emergency, supposedly done by the Dooms Prophets," said Agent Hotchner, looking at all of his people who stayed inside.

"He planned this better than we thought," whispered Jennifer, looking at him with concern. "The kids must have lied..."

"Or he didn't trust all of them, the ones we got to speak with were younger, less devoted. He wouldn't trust them with that information," added Reid, standing beside Morgan.

"Yeah, but if he really treated them like prophets for the close-minded folks, he wouldn't change his mind from a long-lasting plan to something so quick," murmured Derek, looking up at his teammates.

"This was his plan all along, he knew he'd be caught. He just hoped his Prophets would continue his work without him," Reid chimed in, looking around to only see his teammates confused faces. "His nickname was 'doomsking130'… The bomb was set to an hour and a half," he added, looking at his watch, then the device. "I think the attack and the emergency wasn't his idea, it's his followers who tried to continue his work on their own."

They all stared at one another, nodding in agreement while processing his words, following up on the idea of their Boy Genius.

Morgan turned his head slightly to look at the messy-haired doctor. "This shit is too complicated, nothin' I've seen yet, this guy is a smart one," he whispered, shaking his head softly. "I can't deal with this... I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, Derek. We'll wait for the Techs," assured Hotchner, patting his agent's back as he stood up away from the bomb.

"There is no time," said Jareau, turning her head to her team. "You said they 'may or may not' be here in an hour, and we already lost a few minutes, they might be too late."

The atmosphere in the room felt heavier as Agent Rossi came back to the room, saying he got the local police to drag the leader to the station, while Kate called her family to inform them she'd be late. He felt as disappointed and worried as everyone, making sure to keep the pregnant agent safe, away from the building as the rest searched for a solution for a few more minutes.

"Reid," started Morgan, turning to face his friend. "Doesn't your lovebird know how to deal with those?"

"Um, yeah, they worked in the bomb disposal department, but decided to take a break from this a while back," he answered, already frowning his brows at the dreadful idea.

"Would they be able to disarm it?" joined Hotchner, crossing his arms as he listened.

"I think so..." he said unsurely, his hands shaking slightly at scenarios running through his head. "It wouldn't be exactly legal to bring them here, just for your information."

"Would be quicker than the actual technicians," noticed Jareau, looking at Spencer with a soft, understanding look on her face. She knew exactly how much it had to scare him, but like everyone else — she couldn't see another way.

"If they don't feel like doing it, we'll just have to wait for the Bomb Techs, as a civilian now, they shouldn't feel pressured into risking so much," reminded Hotchner, looking at Dr. Reid with a glimpse of sympathy.

"But saving some time would be nice," said Morgan unapologetically, moving closer to Reid. "They live only a few blocks away, local police could escort them and secure the area."

Jennifer came up to Spencer, slowly wrapping an arm around him, soothing his tense muscles. She saw the distress in his eyes, but just like the doctor, she didn't like the idea.

"I'll call," decided Spencer, closing his eyes to calm down. "They live around eight minutes away from here, but-"

"It's up to them," assured Hotchner, nodding his head in understanding. "I'll make some calls, to make sure they won't get into any trouble if they decide to come."

Getting a call from Spencer so early in the morning was usual, so you left your book on the side of the couch, paying your full attention to his words. He spoke quickly, almost too quickly as he tried to summarize everything in the shortest amount of time possible, making it hard for you to interrupt him. Just the tiredness and distress in his voice made you melt, gathering your kit before he could even finish his ramble.

You didn't hesitate, jumping into the police car he talked about that escorted you right to the town hall, passing the barrier blocks and reporters who tried to talk to you. You covered your face with your hood, knowing too well not to talk to them, especially that you weren't there exactly legally. Passing agents Rossi and Callahan, you waved at them, getting polite nods as they watched you disappear into the building.

You walked as quickly as possible, guided by the deputy that drove you there. Something felt different, deep inside of you as you ran downstairs to the basement. It wasn't the first time you got an urgent call to help disarm a bomb, that was your entire life for the past few years, but just reminding yourself of Spencer's voice made your heart beat a little faster.

"SSA Aaron Hotchner," said the tall man who stood in the middle of the room, nodding his head as he shook your hand. He was the only member of the team you didn't have the chance to meet. You introduced yourself. Just hearing your own specialist title fall from your lips felt so distant as you were on a break for the past few months.

You nodded to everyone, only locking eyes with Spencer, who got closer as if just his presence was meant to protect you. "Agent Hotchner," you started, looking away from your boyfriend to kneel beside the device, opening your kit of tools in a hurry. "Evacuate the building and the area, I'll do my best but with devices like this..."

"I understand," he assured, letting Morgan and Jareau leave the room. There was only one more person who didn't budge beside him. "Reid?"

You looked to your side, watching Spencer shake his head and roll his sleeves up. "I'd like to stay," he said as if it was nothing, not even looking at his superior.

"It's your call," said Hotchner, looking at him with worry, but he left the basement. You knew if you weren't so important to Spencer he'd never allow this kind of behavior, but you could feel your blood boil at just the idea of him staying.

"Leave," you said simply, knowing how dangerous it was for him. At that moment, you didn't even care for yourself, you've done this a million times, but risking his life...

"Not a chance," he replied, reaching for your flashlight to help you. You could see the way his hands started shaking then he lifted it and it started to break your heart.

"You can't do this, Spence," you whispered breathlessly, focusing your eyes on the device. Two detachable components connected only by a few wires, a wide panel to control the bomb was already turned off the moment the time was set and two big canisters of gasoline beside just to make the explosion more dangerous.

"I can and I will," he said firmly, watching your skilled fingers run over the bomb to carefully detach the two parts.

"For fucks sake, Spencer," you sighed, already feeling the way your lip quivered with every word. "I can't promise you anything, I can't do this to you..."

"I'm not leaving," he repeated through gritted teeth, looking up at you from under his messy hair, covering most of his face as he spoke. "And stop trying to convince me otherwise."

You wiped the tears that spilled from your eyes as they followed one wire after another, watching the way they split and connected to find the one to cut. There were way more than in a usual device and just from the look of it, you knew some of them were just decoys, not really connected to any part, not activating anything, just being there to fuck with the mind of the person who dared to try defusing it.

"I can't focus when all I can think of is this killing you," you whispered, your voice breaking with every passing second. "Leave me here, I need to do this alone... I can't risk your life like this. You mean too much not only to me but to your team, your mom, the people who will need the help of an actual genius, so please, just spare me the talking and get out when you still have the chance. It's so selfish to even think..."

His calm and soft voice stopped you in the middle of your monologue. Tears kept falling down your face as you recognized the words he spoke. The stubborn bastard couldn't even fathom the idea of leaving you to this by yourself. Despite how scared he was inside, he kept his cool, reciting one of your favorite books from memory.

You inhaled deeply, feeling yourself growing more steady and calm, your muscles relaxing with every paragraph. Despite biting into your lip harshly, you didn't feel the pain, the tears were gone and the annoyingly fast heartbeat eased.

Spencer kept his eyes glued to your fingers as he took breaths in between each sentence, only glimpsing up a you for a second every time you cut another decoy wire to clear your way to the actual ones.

The time seemed to stop despite the timer showing you almost an hour passed already, leaving you with only a few minutes to neutralize the threat. You wiped your face in your hoodie, getting rid of sweat and tears as you cut through the last decoy, leading you to analyze the actual device.

You caught the cord you thought was the right one with your scissors, swallowing harshly at just the idea of you being wrong. You reached your free hand to the side, mindlessly searching for his. Doing this was not only risking the lives of you and Spencer but potentially unaware people who happened to be close by. Your heart sped up drastically as you made the decision.

Looking up, you saw Spencer who stopped mid-sentence. A look of worry passed through his face as he intertwined your fingers, his other hand resting on the back of your head, soothing you by slowly moving his fingers through your hair.

"Spencer," you whispered breathlessly, a stray tear running down your cheek, leaving him to quickly wipe it off with a soft smile."I love you..."

His smile only grew bigger as looked at you, that familiar sparkle in his eye shining brightly at you. His eyes were teary, but he didn't let any tears spill as he nodded. Those puppy eyes stared at you with the most love you've ever seen.

"I know," he whispered back, his voice cracking as he looked down at your hands.

You felt like the whole world crushed over you as he didn't say those words back, unlike he did a million times before. Your heart sank but you just looked down, brows frowned as you focused not to lose all composure you had left.

For a split second, the basement was filled with eerie silence as you pushed down on the scissors, cutting the cord in half.

masterlist | request info

[the-modern-typewriter]

Peace, Love and...

The ropes were numerous, and painstakingly knotted to form an intricate spiderweb which stretched between two pillars on the left hand side of the room.

Cai hung in the web’s centre.

The golden thread wound around what felt like every inch of his body, pinning his arms and legs spread-eagled, curling firmly around his torso to hold him as secure and as thoroughly stuck as any good spider’s prey. His toes touched the floor only precariously to help hold him steady.

Every tug, every waver, every twitch of movement caused the small silver bells hooked to the web to chime softly.

The trick was to be as still, as quiet, as possible.

Nonetheless.

The bells chimed.

It had been less than five minutes.

Adam lounged on the sofa not far away, a whip dangling insouciantly from one hand, a book in the other. He was the picture of idle, entirely too lovely, cruelty – something that the Greek’s would have carved and marvelled at.

At the chime, his attention cut up, and his hand lashed out with wicked speed and wickeder precision.

Cai bit down hard on his lip, jolting on instinct at the hot sting of pain on his thigh. The bells chimed again.

Adam grinned, feral. His fingertips caressed the whip’s handle in a way that he had many times caressed the curve of Cai’s skin, his cheek, the bow of his lip. His gaze roamed over Cai like he was considering the next place to strike, in retaliation of that sound.  

“That’s not fair,” Cai gasped. “You have to let me adjust. Nobody holds still when they’re hit!”

“I’m sorry,” Adam replied, “at which point did I promise you fairness? Love, most certainly, war – of a sort, perhaps. But fairness?”

He landed another blow, a third, and then seemed to take pity.

“Fairness,” Adam settled back down, “was never especially on the agenda. Stillness is. You’re the one who wanted to work on being mindful, I am merely supporting you in your goals like a dutiful husband.”

“I suggested we try meditation!”

“My voice is music. I am your guide.”

Adam’s voice had turned dry at the words, and Cai just managed to catch himself before he snorted with laughter. Laughter really wouldn’t help his predicament. He watched the way that Adam’s fingers moved over the whip handle again, quite happily awaiting any opportunity, guessing at that laughter. His stare was fixed on Cai, intent, nowhere near as careless as his posture.

The urge to laugh faded out. He just as quickly wanted to shiver, with a pleased sort of anticipation. He knew that stare.

Cai swallowed. He stilled himself once more, and thought that Adam might have a point. Not about his voice being music, exactly, however partial Cai was to the cadences of his husband’s tone, but…  

“I think I have an idea,” Adam said, with a tone of relenting somewhat, or at least of shifting gears. “Hold still now.” He discarded the book and got up from his seat, crossing the room and returning with a blindfold. He placed it over Cai’s eyes, knotting it tight with deft movements. “There. No distractions.” Adam’s lips were hot, and very distracting, by his ear. “Say thank you.”

“Are you actually planning to top me into meditation?”

“Meditation is just subspace for vanilla people. Hush, that’s an order. Bratting does not equal mindfulness, it makes you too busy thinking how you can beat me. You can’t.”

Cai’s mouth snapped shut.  

Adam didn’t take that particular tone with him very often, but when he did…there really was something about that voice.

“Good,” Adam murmured. “Now…” he heard Adam’s footsteps move back to the sofa. “Listen.”

Cai had lost count of the number of times, of ways, that Adam had tied him up. Sometimes, it was because Cai wanted to feel restrained, other times because Adam wanted the feeling of having someone at his mercy. It was always because of the aesthetic, and, today, it was supposedly because of the calm.

Supposedly.

The act of being bound was calming, the act of being whipped was not. But wasn’t that Adam all over? He had a weakness for irony, the juxtaposition of contrasting elements, for the artistry of it all. It was one of the many things that Cai loved about him; he always managed to do the unexpected in some small way, even after all of their years together.

“Focus on the feeling of the rope,” Adam said, as steady as metronome, low and impossible to ignore. “On your breath, on holding still for me. That’s all I expect from you. Art is seen and not heard.”

Cai focused on the feeling of the rope, on his breath, on the effort it took to hold himself still. The muscles in his calves burned. It was, in its way, actually quite meditative.

The ropes today had been picked because they were silken; strong, but soft upon Cai’s skin. They were easy to focus on.

The point of the calming kind of meditation, at least from Cai’s reading, was to focus one’s body on specific sounds, or objects, or sensations, in order to cultivate a peaceful mind and an enhanced state of concentration. That was what he’d told Adam. Apparently, between his eye rolls, Adam had payed attention.

“You are not going anywhere,” Adam said. “You are safe, I’ve got you.”

There was simply the rope, the chimes, the whip. 

And, as always, there was him.

***

“Cai.”

Adam’s fingers were careful brushing his face, undoing the blindfold, letting the light of the world with all of its distractions seep back in.

“Cai.”

Cai opened his eyes, a little dazed, and certainly peaceful. He had lost track of time or at least stopped counting it. It had taken him a while to figure out how to hold still, to let go of the restless needs of the day and life, but once he was tied up there wasn’t really much a guy could do. Just like Adam said. Listening to his voice, his breath, it had been easy.

Adam stood in front of him, and Cai wasn’t entirely sure when he’d moved. His expression was one of a fond sort of amusement. “Are you still with me?” Adam asked. “Or have you found yogic bliss?”

Cai nodded.

“Oh, so yogic bliss?”

“You’re hilarious,” Cai said, without bite. “I’m with you. Always am.”

“Good,” Adam said, still watching him. A softer smile had crossed his lips. “You went very quiet. Very still.”

“Wasn’t that the point?”

“I didn’t expect it to be that effective - I was planning to torment you mercilessly. It would have been very cathartic.”

Cai simply gave a peaceful sort of hum and Adam laughed, quietly, shaking his head. He’d abandoned the whip, and his seeming initial plans, on the sofa. He reached up to check the ropes around Cai’s hands, going through the practiced motions of making sure Cai still had all the right circulation in his fingers.

“Are you ready to come down?” he asked.

Cai shook his head.

Adam laughed again.

“I suppose I could keep you up there like an exhibition piece.” He stroked his fingers down along Cai’s chest. “You’re rather calming to look at like this. Can’t get into any trouble.”

“I am the height of zen, I never get myself in trouble.”

“Uh-huh. I’m taking you down now. Come here.”

Soon enough, Cai’s feet were firmly planted on the floor once more, and Adam’s arm was wrapped firmly around his torso to hold him secure. The rest of the ropes fell away. Cai led him over to the sofa and they sprawled there for a while.

“So,” Cai said eventually. “If I suggest that we try couple’s yoga…?”

Adam’s fingers wound in his hair, tugging his head back to contort his spine, and kissed Cai’s cheek.

“I’m sure I’ll think of something much more fun.”

It was, to neither of their surprise, much more entertaining.

[jamessluttythighs]

@moutainrusing @reguluskeys - taller regulus agenda - word count:491 - (because they both encouraged my taller reg antics)

“There will be times when you doubt your abilities but that is when you have to push even harder. You are in the last 50 metres before the finish line, don’t give up.”

McGonagall’s words echoed in James’ head. It was almost 11 on a Thursday evening and his Potions essay wasn’t nearly finished. Tomorrow would be hell if he didn’t hand anything in to Slughorn. Head boy excuses could only get you so far.

Polyjuice potion effects on modern day society: Describe the process required to achieve …

James rolled his eyes. The Restricted Section. That place always gave him the creeps but he, for the life of him, could not remember if the lacewing flies went in before or after the boomslang skin. Reluctantly he left his work nest, collected the key from the kid on duty and made his way to the back of the library.

The scent of old parchment and dust sat in the air. The candles burned low as he sauntered to the ‘Potions’ section. The silence in the room was eerie. Trailing his finger along the spines he reached the ‘P’s. 

“Shit,” James muttered under his breath. He looked up. Of course it was just out of his reach. Now he had to fetch a stool. Great. A splendid day, really. As if he wasn’t tired enough. Stomping to round the corner, he slammed into a firm chest.

“Fuck, Potter! What are you doing here?” 

Regulus looked slightly flustered. His curls falling loose from where they were tucked behind his ears. The book that was in his hands, now laying on the floor. 

“Reg, what are you doing here?,” James exclaimed.

“It’s a Tuesday, I have shifts on Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Regulus whispered back, looking at James as both of them bent down to retrieve the book. Their hands brushing accidentally. A warm feeling spread up James’ hand, leaving his arm tingling.  

Regulus cleared his throat. “What do you need from the restricted section?”

“Potions essay tomorrow”

Regulus’ eyes lit up. His love for the subject bubbling to the surface. “Oh so you’ll be needing this,” he said. 

In one swift motion he reached up, crowding James against the shelf. Coconut and sandalwood filling the air around James. The heat of the younger boy’s body created a fire in James. Regulus didn’t even need to get on his tiptoes. The proximity left James breathless. 

“How’d you know?” James asked as Regulus took a step back and held the book out to him. James wished that he didn’t move away.

“I tutor Benjy Fenwick.”

And he’s a year ahead in Potions?  James knew he didn’t stand a chance. Smart, gorgeous, slightly mean. What more did James need?

“Any chance you could give me a hand? I am so screwed for tomorrow.”

James could swear he saw a small smile dance at the corner of Regulus’ lips. 

“I don’t know, Potter, what’s in it for me?”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

“Beata Maria.”

What a wonderful blessing upon this hopelessly sinful world.

... What's this?

A gathering of powerful and prideful individuals can only spell trouble.

Sitting at a table, surrounded by them, exerted an immense pressure upon the room. The air seemed to thin, made icy and oppressive by those in attendance, representatives of their own domains. The dorm leaders were like kings perched upon their thrones, prepared to cross words or swords at a moment's notice. (For what it was worth, at least Kalim was a spot of sunshine in the otherwise strained space.)

Raven had been scribing for these occasions for months now, and still hadn't become fully accustomed to the atmosphere. Inevitably, some petty squabble, underhanded comment, or personal vendetta would disrupt the proceedings. If they were lucky, they'd escape with just some unresolved tension in the air. She took care to leave those instances out of the meeting notes.

Today, the attention was directed toward the front of the room. The headmaster consulted a packet as he crowed on.

“The final topic on our agenda is... Next week, we will be hosting an important guest from Noble Bell College to discuss future joint events. As a show of good will, I would like their representative to be granted a tour of our campus. This tour guide will then also serve as their chaperone for the duration of our guest's stay to ensure that they are comfortable and that all of their questions are promptly answered."

A hand shot up automatically.

"Yes, Rosehearts-kun?"

"If that is the case, sir, then I believe it would be wise for you to serve as this tour guide," the redhead suggested. "You are knowledgeable about our school's history, layout, staff, and curriculum. Therefore, you easily fulfill your own requirements."

There was a round of murmurs and nods from around the table.

"No, no!" Crowley insisted with the shake of his head. "I have many other duties to tend to as headmaster! What's more, it would be more fitting that someone on our guest's level—a fellow student—be the guide! This will better bolster a sense of camaraderie between the student bodies of our schools!"

... In other words, you don't wish to do the work yourself, Raven sighed, already having seen through her guardian's excuses. From the grimaces on everyone else's face, she deduced that they, too, had suspected as much.

Azul laced his fingers together and surveyed the room. "Well then, do we have any volunteers from amongst ourselves?"

"Pass." Leona leaned back in his chair with a grimace. "I'm not up for kissing ass."

"May I take that to mean that you are avaliable, Leona-san?" Azul pressed, still smiling.

"I said, pass," he snarled. "Don't make me repeat myself again."

"... Point taken. Anyone else?"

"I would offer, but... There is an unbirthday party scheduled the day of their arrival. I don't believe I would be able to fully commit myself to chaperoning our guest," Riddle confessed. "I cannot override the rules written by the Queen of Hearts."

"I, as well, am preoccupied. I'm to shoot for a magazine spread after class," Vil added, tucking a finger under his chin. "What about you, Azul? This is a prime opportunity to... as Leona so crudely put it, curry favor with another school of magic. I can't imagine that you wouldn't immediately jump at the chance."

"My, to think that my upperclassmen think so little of my intentions..." Azul sniffled dramatically—an innocent act. "Unfortunately, I have a prior arrangement to oversee at the Mostro Lounge during the visiting period. I would otherwise happily accept this honor!"

"Of course you would," Riddle and Vil said at once.

"Hey, hey, guys! It's no problem! I can show them around! I've done it plenty for our guests back home," Kalim chirped, leaping out of his seat.

"Can Jamil-san confirm that your schedule is clear?" Azul inquired, eyebrow quirked. "It would be a stain upon my... excuse me, I mean Night Raven College's reputation if we were unable to safely secure this relationship."

"Huh? Well, sure I can ask him."

Kalim produced a phone dressed up in a gold case studded with gemstones. He typed up a text message, and received a reply just as fast. His face slowly fell. "Uh-oh, uh..."

"Yes?" Azul prompted.

"Jamil says it's a no-go. He has to tutor me for a big midterm exam on Monday..." Kalim quickly perked up again. "But it's okay! We still have Idia, right?"

"L-Leave me out of this!!" came Idia's stuttering voice from a floating tablet. "I-I didn't ask to pick up a side quest that no one else wants to fulfill! I want nothing to do with this, do you hear me?!"

"Hah!" Leona let out a sharp bark of laughter. "You think that wimpy daikon radish sprout can keep himself together long enough to entertain an esteemed guest?"

"I-It's true!" Idia agreed. "I-I spend most of my time trapped inside my room! I've barely stepped outside to see the light of day or the campus for myself! I'm super anti-social and hate irl people!! Th-There's no way I can socialize or give a halfway decent tour!!"

"Willfully talking yourself down to that extent... Have you no dignity left?" Vil groaned. "Safe to say, we cannot rely on a man with no confidence for a matter as important as this."

"Then all that's left is..."

Everyone's eyes collectively drifted to the seventh and unoccupied dorm leader seat at the table.

"Great. It's decided, then. It'll be the lizard's gig," Leona smirked, seemingly satisfied with the outcome.

"Is it really okay to make the decision without Malleus here?" Kalim asked—the only one truly concerned about him.

"No, this is unacceptable," Riddle pointed out. "There tends to be miscommunication when information is relayed to Malleus. We cannot afford such mistakes if we wish to forge a healthy, sustainable relationship with Noble Bell College. We must entrust this task to an individual who is punctual, polite, welcoming, detail-oriented, and an eloquent speaker."

In this pool of candidates? Good luck with that. Raven scrawled down Riddle's last remarks, dotting the period with pessimism.

"Oh dear, oh dear," Crowley fretted to himself. "What to do? We've already run through you boys and no one is quite free or suitable for the role..."

"What if we were to put out a call to action, headmaster?" Raven offered, glancing up from her parchment. "I know that our students aren't the most open to extending their hands, but perhaps someone will volunteer for the task if you offer some kind of compensation."

"Oogh... The compensation would have to be fairly generous to spark interest and enthusiasm this close to the visit..." Crowley lamented. "Woe is me!! Wherever can I find such a magnanimous individual on such short notice?!"

"There, there. It will sort itself out, you'll see." Raven smiled sympathetically and patted her uncle on the back. "If you'd like, I can get started by drafting the document for your approval."

"My, how very kind of you, my dear!! That's what I like to hear!! Where would we be without your astute…”

The headmaster's gushing suddenly quieted, his once-panicked expression settling into thoughtfulness. Crowley's beady, golden gaze bore right into his child.

"... Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I think," Crowley said slowly, "we've found the answer to our prayers. The perfect person for the job, in fact!"

"... You have?"

"Dear, sweet Raven-kun," Crowley drawled in a singsong, "my adorable niece, apple of my eye, sweetest of songbirds—”

A smile grew on the headmaster's lips. Heat from all corners of the meeting room concentrated on her. Collective realization.

Raven puffed with indignation. "You are NOT seriously suggesting what I think you're suggesting, Uncle!! I'm here to keep records, not to fill in for the duties of the dorm leaders!”

"Yet you've been present for all of our meetings, Raven-san," Azul cooed. "You are privy to all the same information that we are, and have already proven yourself to be reliable when it comes to your work. I also understand that you're quite the student among the first years."

"Where did you hear that from?!"

"I have my sources." Azul raised his voice to address the other dorm leaders. "Gentlemen, don't you agree that Raven-san would be a most wonderful choice for the task at hand?"

"Heh, so this is where we're going with this?" A dry chuckle escaped Leona. "Fine by me."

"She would be our best option," Vil added. "Her manners are passable. She presents herself well enough."

"A-As long as it's not me! I'm up for anyone else!!"

"Azul..." Riddle frowned disapprovingly. "While I can't say I condone your methods, it seems we're left with little choice in this matter."

"Gosh, it's so nice of you to step up for us, Raven!" Kalim graciously beamed.

"W-Wait just a second here! I haven't agreed to anything yet!! Don’t I get a say in this?!” Raven protested, abruptly rising. She shuddered upon feeling a clawed hand clap her back.

“Our hopes are riding on you, Raven-kun!!” Crowley cheerily declared. “Go out there and make our Night Raven College look good!!”

"I'm so glad we came to an agreement." Azul's lip curled back into a triumphant smirk. "May I be the first to offer my congratulations? Ah, and I think I speak for all of us when I say... best of luck with handling our special guest."

"Wow, that's amazing, Raven!! Congratulations!!" Kalim squealed, his eyes sparkling with genuine joy.

"Yeah, congrats," Leona yawned. "Knock'm dead, canary."

"Congratulations, potato. Be on your best behavior now."

"Raven, congratulations. I expect you to perform well, or it's off with your head. Is that understood?"

"Congrats, LMAO. Sux 2 b u rn. GL, hf, don't die!!"

It felt as though the room was shrinking in on her, blocking off all exits and routes of escape. A circle of arbiters, already having settled the raven's fate long ago. Her left eye twitched.

"I can see that none of you are willing to let me worm my way out of this," she said warily. "Absolutely awful, all of you..."

"Why, that's exactly what makes you the ideal person for the job, my dear niece!" Crowley aggressively ruffled Raven's hair, making it stick up like feathers plugged into an electrical socket. "It's your kindness and willingness to help those in need. You must have gotten it from me, fufu!"

"Highly doubtful. I almost feel sorry for the poor, unfortunate soul being sent here... He has no idea what's in store for him."

Crowley blinked. "Oh, did I fail to tell you all? The student representative from Noble Bell College is..."

Night had descended upon Night Raven College. Darkness heralded twinkling stars, shadows, and secrets hidden in its depths. This was the height of mystique—and he, mystique manifest, walked along that darkness, finding comfort in it.

"... So this is where you were. I knew I’d find you out and wandering about again.”

Malleus turned.

A short figure had appeared behind him, the jacket hanging off of his shoulders flapping in a steady breeze. In the dark, his eyes were bright rubies—striking against the lucid, opal moonlight. He smiled, displaying fangs.

"Lilia."

He skipped to Malleus’s side. "Didn’t you have a dorm leader meeting to attend?"

The prince’s brow furrowed. "Is that today?"

"It was today," Lilia gently corrected him. “Well, it's long since over.”

A frown formed. “That is... rather unfortunate. I had been looking forward to the discussing how to best demonstrate our hospitality to the student from beyond Sage's Island."

“Chin up, Malleus!" Lilia reached into his back pocket and produced a scroll tied with a midnight blue ribbon. “I have the meeting notes passed along from the headmaster’s child—you remember the little raven, don't you? With this, you’ll be able to get up to speed on the discussion in no time."

“The raven? Yes, that would be the young Crowley you speak of. I shall have to express my gratitude to her at a later time. It is in part through these records that I remain informed in spite of my absences."

Malleus accepted the paper from his vice dorm leader, tugging the ribbon and letting the page unfurl. He immediately began poring over its contents, a finger following each line of text he took in. A review of the quarterly budget, consideration for expanding the cafeteria menu to include more vegetarian options, important upcoming events...

“Shall we make her an honorary knight for all her troubles? Send a thank-you card? Invite her to tea?”

“We are nowhere that friendly. Merely acquaintances.”

“That’s too bad. She seems like an sharp girl. A little high-strung, but nice.” Lilia curiously rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “You, Sebek, and Silver attended that masquerade in the City of Flowers together, didn’t you? I imagine you’re already thick as thieves. How good for you all! I wish I had been there too.”

Malleus’s lip curled at the mention of the masquerade. “A great many things happened then. I was certainly taken aback by the young Crowey’s conviction when she was faced with grave danger.”

… That danger had been himself.

A memory flashed through his mind—four figures, clustered around a book. The distressed cries of a raven calling out, and the cold, steely roar of the dragon that countered it.

“We must stop him from tainting his own soul. We must!!“

“Rest assured, we will stop him. When the time comes for me to exact my revenge... Pray that you do not stand between myself and Flamme. I cannot guarantee your safety if you were to get caught in the crossfires.”

“But he’s…!!”

“Suffering? He has deceived me and threatened the safety of my people. They will suffer too if he is not stopped. His is a story that will end in fire. There can be no other ending. If it comes down to life or death, I will do what I must to secure Briar Valley’s future.”

“It won’t come to that, it can’t! I…! I won’t let that happen! A-Absolutely not, even if it’s Malleus-senpai…!”

“You would grant your enemies clemency? Then you are a fool.”

“I-I believe… everyone deserves a second shot at their happily ever after!! S-So even if I’m scared and want to run away… e-even though I know I can’t beat you in a fight… I’m a fool who wants to defend that belief until the bitter end!!”

"My, so she’s fiery one! I’ve yet to see many defiant enough to stand against you. It’s a good thing you didn’t flambé her.”

“She looked as though she was going to pass out from fright.”

“Even better!!” Lilia clapped his hands in delight. "Ooh, I’d love for you to have such an amusing friend.”

Malleus was nearly done with the notes now. As he neared the end of the paper, the subject shifted to that of a special guest. The odd raven, that guest’s guide and attendant.

He stopped, his finger hovering over the final bullet point on the page.

"What's this? The visiting student will be from Noble Bell College... and his identity…” The prince fell silent. Seriousness had seized control of his features.

“Malleus…? What’s wrong?”

Lilia looked over in concern. What he found was a dark, mischievous smile slowly spreading across Malleus’s face. For a brief moment, he felt as though he had just stared into an abyss—and the abyss had stared back in all of its wickedness.

“Fufufu… Now this will certainly be fun."

[pdflayn]

REPEAT AFTER ME

charles leclerc x max verstappen

650 words

summary: based on this req wherein max comforts charles after a bad race day in Bahrain for the Monegasque. warnings: no warnings, just cute lestappen agenda, somewhat based on that cute fan art of lestappen where max comforts charles that spread all over twitter and tiktok. note: fluff is not my forte, i tried my very best to make it interesting.

The Bahrain Grand Prix had just ended with Max winning the first race of the season. The crowd went wild once again for him as he stood on the podium holding his trophy. But it wasn’t the same for Charles who’s just finished his media duties as he sat down in the garage of Ferrari. He watched his rival along with his teammate celebrate their podium and he would just kid himself if he didn’t admit that he feels mad at himself even when he knows he did his best. He did his best for sure, despite having troubles with the car he still managed to get P4. But it wasn’t enough.

After a long week of work, Charles fixed himself and packed his things to get ready and go back to the hotel. He only has enough time to sleep before flying again to prepare for another race. 

“Charles,” a familiar voice called him. “Hey, mate. Congrats on P4.” Max said with all smiles as Charles turned around to face him. 

“Idiot, you shouldn’t be here. This isn’t RBR’s garage.” Charles joked as he took his bag. He thought Max would already go because that’s what he usually does. After he congratulates Charles he would leave already due to media duties or he would just instantly go back to his room already. Max stayed in his spot, standing there with a look the monegasque couldn’t explain.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Charles asked, curiosity evident in his tone. The dutch took a look around and when he was sure that no one was there to see him, he walked inside and sat down. “Sit with me, Charlie.” 

Charles obliged to Max’s request and sat down beside him and placed his bag down once again. 

“I did my best in that race, I am proud of the efforts I did, I am a great driver, and I deserve the recognition I get. Repeat my words.” Charles looked at Max with a puzzled look meanwhile Max looked at him with a sincere but not intimidating look. For what it’s worth, it actually calmed the raging nerves Charles had. 

“Repeat after me, Charlie.” Max smiled, “I did my best in that race.”

“I didn’t-”

“I did my best in that race.” Max said as he cut Charles’ words. 

Charles sighed, “I did my best in that race.”

Max frowned. He stood up and kneeled in front of Charles, leveling to him, which made the monegasque gasp and even more confused to what Max is trying to do.

“What are you- Max, stand up. Are you crazy?”

“It’s not your fault Charlie. Now, repeat after me, okay?” Max stopped and waited for a reply from Charles, whether it was verbal or physical. When Charles nodded after a very deep sigh, Max flashed his bright smile, which he only shows to Charles, his childhood best friend who is also his rival.

“Repeat after me, I did my best in that race.”

“I did my best in that race.”

“I am proud of the efforts I did.”

“I am proud of the efforts I did.”

“I am a great driver.”

“Max, this is silly-”

“I am a great driver. Say it like you mean it, Charlie. Come on, now.” 

“Max-’

“Please?”

“I am a great driver.” Max smiled like a kid, his smile reaching his ears. He finally stood up again, looking down at Charles before deciding to ruin his helmet hair even more. “See? That’s more like it.”

“Chin up now, okay? It wasn’t your fault and you deserve just as much recognition as you are receiving right now. For what it’s worth, you’re literally the best driver in the grid. You come second because everyone knows I come first.” Max laughed at his own joke.

“Fuck you, mate.”

“Cheer up now, yeah? I’ll be going now, someone might see me here.”