#like once i read it... i started finding it everywhere

[laughingcatwrites]

I'm linking the article because this is a really good case study for media literacy. Spoiler: this article contains a secret second topic that is not mentioned anywhere in the title or the first half! I'll break the article down below the cut and give some of my own interpretations.

Please DO NOT TL;DR this. A lot of this breakdown is about how news organizations can and do misrepresent situations by relying on people TL;DRing partway through an article.

The title: Click bait, designed to trigger an emotional response. Many people take this as a true description of the article and don't open it to read.

The opening paragraphs: Hyperbolic descriptions like "eager to welcome Musk" that don't specify who the descriptions are about. The start of a quote that is cut so that it evokes a feeling of Musk being viewed as an equal leader in some kind of negotiation. ("Be in a dialogue with ...")

This is the point at which most people who have gotten past the title think they understand the gist of the article and stop reading.

The meat: One paragraph later, the quote finishes to show that the speaker wants to educate Musk on the values of the Democratic party. Suddenly it's not a meeting of equal minds, but a teacher and student situation with Musk as the student. (The person doesn't state it directly, but the list of values given heavily implies that the talk is to point out what poor business practice it would be for his companies if he keeps supporting Republicans).

Then there are a bunch of quotes over the next few paragraphs about how much damage Musk has done, how many Democrats want nothing to do with him and some might want to engage with him just enough to keep him from funding the Republican party, how unlikely it is that he actually had a change of heart, and how the party shouldn't start focusing on him.

People who have gotten past the opening paragraphs would probably stop here because the article seems to have concluded the headline topic.

And now for something completely different: Surprise! There's an entire additional half of the article. And it's not about the Democrats at all, it's about the aftermath of DOGE taking over the US Institute of Peace and how they absolutely trashed the building before turning it back over. And, interestingly enough, the article mentions that DOGE left marijuana scattered everywhere and smoked it in the building, but doesn't pick up on the point that as federal employees, DOGE members are subject to federal law and their use of marijuana is illegal.

So, what did that breakdown show?

1. Not just the title, but the first few paragraphs are misleading, designed to elicit an emotional response, and designed to look as though they're summarizing the entire article. Think about why news organizations might choose to do this, who benefits, and who is harmed due to the misunderstanding. I think the phrase "divide and conquer" is very apt here, as you can see from the initial responses to the headline.

2. Quotes can be cut so that they imply different things. Think about how important wording is. In the actual article, the cut-off quote used in the opening paragraphs is "be in a dialogue with." What does that phrase evoke to you? To me it evokes CEOs of rival businesses or leaders of different countries meeting to discuss something as equals. Does it still feel like that once you read the rest of the quote in the next paragraph?

3. The actual topic of the article might have nothing to do with the title or initial topic. Think about who might want to bury big news like an entire building being trashed. Which people benefit from this not becoming a large news story? How does the lack of title or introductory paragraphs introducing the topic affect who will find and read it? I personally find it very interesting that the harm caused by DOGE employees, as well as their inappropriate behavior and illegal actions are buried so deep in the article that you would have no idea it had been reported on without reading it through. Politico can truthfully claim they reported in it, but how many people will actually learn about it?

If you made it through this, congratulations! I highly recommend you read the entire article because it really is a masterful example of how an article can be twisted to misrepresent and hide the actual information within it.

The democratic party would rather try and whitewash the nazi billionaire who mainstreamed nazi talking points buying twitter than literally do anything that their progressive anti genocide base wants.

[cuzxai]

hold me under - sfw

spencer reid x afab!reader

a/n: basically S1 EP18 pool scene but VERY different circumstances

The case had been brutal—twelve days of desert heat, dead ends and staring at evidence boards until your eyes blurred. By the end, everyone was short-tempered and strung out. So when Hotch muttered something about “taking a few days off before heading back to Quantico” and Rossi offered up an Airbnb he “just happened to have points for,” the team had already started packing before Hotch even finished his sentence.

You don’t usually like to admit when you’re exhausted, but this time? You were wrecked. So the sight of the house—a sleek, modern thing carved into the California hills, all stone and glass and warm, flickering patio lights—hits you like a goddamn blessing.

“Okay, this is what I’m talking about,” Emily whistles, rolling her suitcase up the walkway. “Rossi, if this is what ‘retirement prep’ looks like then I volunteer to help you practice.”

“I’m practicing with whiskey and not being shot at,” he says. “The house is a bonus.”

Garcia is already filming with her phone, narrating like she’s on HGTV, and Morgan is arguing with JJ about who gets the room with the balcony. You wander inside, kicking your shoes off at the door. The floors are smooth wood, cool under your feet. The open kitchen gleams. The living room is sunken, with oversized couches and a fireplace you’re sure no one will use. The back doors open onto a deck that looks like a dream: soft white lights strung between posts, lounge chairs everywhere, an infinity-edge pool glowing soft blue under the darkening sky. You’re in the bathroom and out of your jeans in ten seconds flat, stripping down to your bikini and diving in with a laugh that feels like exhale.

For once, no blood, no briefing rooms. Just the sound of Emily’s music echoing off stone and water. You float, weightless, arms outstretched. Somewhere behind you, a screen door creaks open. And like fucking clockwork—Spencer Reid’s voice cuts through.

“I read a study once that found that water has a measurable psychological effect on the brain. Seeing it, being near it—it increases serotonin production and reduces cortisol. It’s called the Blue Mind theory.”

You smile with your eyes closed. “Are you telling me I’m scientifically happier right now?”

His voice gets closer. “Technically, yes.”

You open your eyes and squint toward the sound. Spencer stands barefoot on the edge of the deck, hands shoved deep in his pockets, his button-down rolled at the elbows. The light catches the curve of his jaw. He’s watching you, book tucked under his arm, like he’s thinking about joining you but doesn’t know how. “Come in,” you call, playful. “Doctor’s orders.”

He blinks. “I didn’t mean—”

“Spencer,” you cut him off with a grin. “Have you ever done something spontaneous?”

“I—I think so?”

“You think so.” You paddle closer, resting your arms on the edge of the pool. “Get in.”

His mouth opens. Closes. You watch him fluster—eyes darting to your shoulder, your collarbone, the drops of water sliding down your chest and then skyrocket right back to your face, red to the roots. He clears his throat. “I—I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

You smirk. “Skinny dipping won’t hurt a soul.”

His eyes go huge and for a second, he actually looks like he might step out of his comfort zone and into the water. But then of course Derek comes crashing out of the house behind him, cracking a beer. “Reid! You actually thinking about swimming? Told you come pick your room man.” Spencer stiffens. You push back from the ledge with a small sigh. Another time, maybe later. You’re still dripping when you drop your bag in the last room at the end of the hall. No one claimed it, probably because it doesn’t have a balcony or a view. You don’t care. It’s private, sheets are soft and it’s right across from Spencer’s. You don’t plan that, obviously. That would be insane.

“Nice ink.” You twist to find Emily in the doorway, eyes locked on your back. You forgot you were still in your bikini top—the one that leaves the black inked linework of a bird across your shoulder blades on full display.

“That new?” she asks, stepping in and dropping onto your bed.

You shrug. “Around 4 months ago.”

“It’s hot.”

“Thank you, Em. I know you have some, too.”

“Just one,” she states with a grin. “It’s small.”

You pull on a T-shirt, ruffling your damp hair. Emily’s watching you with that look—half mischief, half knowing. “What,” you ask.

“You and Reid.”

You snort. “There is no ‘me and Reid.’”

“Right,” she says slowly. “Except for the part where you’ve been roomed together on the last four cases, you always steal his fries, always sit next to him on the jet, always actually listening whenever he goes on a tangent about something nobody knows about and get that look whenever he talks about statistics like it’s foreplay.”

You freeze. “I do not—”

Emily raises a brow.

“…Okay,” you admit, flopping down beside her. “I might have a tiny thing for him.”

“Babe,” she says, laughing, “it’s not tiny and it’s not one-sided.”

You turn your head. “What?”

“Please. He practically short-circuits every time you touch him. Did you see his face when you came out of the pool? I thought he was gonna combust.”

You smile then frown slightly. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not his type.”

Emily rolls onto her side, eyes narrowing. “You’re exactly what he needs.”

Later Garcia and Rossi are mixing margaritas like they’re on spring break. JJ and Morgan are talking about God knows what. Hotch is trying not to smile at something Emily just whispered. Spencer’s nose is in a book again but he’s not turning the page. He’s watching you. You know he is. You pretend not to notice. Let him look. Your towel’s wrapped loose around your waist. Your bikini top’s still damp. You toss your head back laughing at something Morgan says and watch Spencer flinch like the sound hit him in the ribs. Emily catches your eye across the patio.

The night had dulled to a hush. The pool glowed soft blue under string lights that hung like sleepy fireflies overhead. You sat alone at the edge, legs dangling into the water, hair still wet from earlier, bathing suit clinging lightly to your skin. Inside, the rest of the team had long since drifted upstairs—one by one, tapping out with yawns and stretches and wine-heavy smiles. The party had burned hot and fast. Late arrival, early exhaustion. Travel days were like that. But you stayed. Alone. Content in the hum of silence, in the warmth of the night on your skin, in the little flickering waves dancing around your calves.

“Didn’t think anyone would still be out here,” came a voice. Quiet. Familiar.

You turned. Spencer stood just past the patio door, barefoot, book in one hand, other tucked nervously into the pocket of his sleep pants. His curls were slightly messy—bedhead already threatening and his Henley clung delicately to his thin frame. Lit from behind, he looked softer than usual. Less clinical. Less BAU. More him.

You smiled, easy. “Didn’t think you would be.”

He shrugged and stepped closer, like he wasn’t sure if he was welcome. “It’s quieter now.”

“Exactly why I stayed.”

Spencer settled onto a lounge chair near you, long legs folding awkwardly beneath him. “I’m not great with… noise.”

You kicked gently at the water, ripples spreading out. “I am but only when it’s not pretending to be something it isn’t. Loud silence is worse.”

He glanced up from his book, brow furrowing in that thoughtful way he did when he was processing you. “What does that mean?”

You didn’t answer right away. Just watched the water, the stars, the long reflection of string lights over the pool like stretched pearls. “I think people misunderstand me a lot,” you finally said. “They hear my voice or see my tattoos or the way I talk and they think I’m a certain kind of girl.”

Spencer’s gaze didn’t leave you. His book remained untouched. “I’m loud,” you continued. “I flirt. I drink. I’m not ‘quietly mysterious’ or… composed like JJ or Emily. I get messy. I feel things too big. People think that means I’m not serious. Or not smart. Or that I couldn’t possibly be worth—” You stopped yourself. Laughed under your breath. “Anyway.”

His voice was low. “They’re wrong.”

You looked up. His expression was open, gentle in the way only he could be. No judgment. Just understanding, deep and vast and devastating. “They’ve always been wrong about me, too,” he added. “I talked too much. Or not enough. I knew too many things but none of the right ones. I didn’t know how to be normal.”

You tilted your head. “You ever wish you were?”

He hesitated. Then shook his head. “Not when I’m around people who actually see me.”

Your stomach flipped. You didn’t look away. “Do I?”

Spencer blinked. His lips parted, and for a heartbeat you swore he might say something dangerous. Then he quietly said, “You do.”

A silence settled. Not awkward. Not anymore. Just charged. You rolled your shoulders back. “Still haven’t seen you in the pool.”

He looked down at the water like it had personally offended him. “I’m not a great swimmer.”

“It’s not about swimming,” you teased. “It’s about experiencing.”

“Experiencing…?”

You kicked water at him. “Fun, Spence. Wet, spontaneous fun.”

He made a face. “That sounds terrifying.”

You laughed, standing slowly. The water dripped off your thighs, gliding over the glint of your belly button ring and the ink on your back. You swam to the center of the pool and flipped to float on your back, face to the stars. “You’re missing out,” you called, voice echoing in the quiet.

“I don’t have a suit,�� he replied.

“I mean I barely do, mine is lingerie-adjacent at best.”

He paused, “I… noticed.”

You almost choked. “Dr. Reid. Did you just flirt with me?”

“I don’t—I wasn’t. I just—” He made a strangled sound. “It was an observation.”

You swam closer to the edge. He sat with his book on his lap now, red-faced, pretending to read. He looked so painfully kissable like that—knees tucked up, fingers curling the edge of the page, doing everything in his power to pretend he wasn’t watching your every move. You pulled yourself up a little, resting your arms on the edge, chin propped on your forearms. Water trickled down your cheeks. “Okay, well. You don’t have to get in. But will you help me out?”

He looked instantly concerned. “Did you hurt something?”

You grinned. “Just need a hand.”

He stood quickly, the book falling to the chair. His fingers reached out, tentative. And when he bent down to grab your hands you yanked. The splash was spectacular. He hit the water with a shout, arms flailing, legs scrambling. You backed away just in time to avoid the full brunt of the wave, but not enough to miss the way his shirt clung instantly to his chest, dark and dripping. He surfaced, gasping. “You pulled me in!”

You grinned. “You needed it.”

Spencer wiped his face, sputtering—but then he laughed. Really laughed. And it was beautiful. Sharp and unguarded and boyish in a way that made your chest ache. “You’re—” he started, but didn’t finish. Just floated for a second, blinking at you. And then something shifted. His laughter faded. His eyes fell to your mouth. You stood just inches away now. Chest to chest. Water slick between you. You didn’t speak. Neither did he. You leaned in. And kissed him. At first he froze. Not out of resistance but like someone who had dreamed of a moment so long he didn’t know what to do once it arrived. But then his hands were on you—shaky, reverent, sliding up your arms, then your neck. His mouth opened under yours, tentative at first, then hungry. Your fingers dove into his hair, soaking wet and soft as silk. He moaned and kissed you deeper, backing up until his spine hit the pool wall. Your body followed. Fit against him like you’d been carved to. He wasn’t smooth. He wasn’t practiced. He was real. All mouth and breath and aching honesty, hands gripping your waist like he thought you might vanish. You kissed him harder and let yourself melt against him. Let him have you here and now, just like this.

[epiphanytofu]

Fankids are still a thing, right? Whatever, go my scarab. Introducing my two fankids for an incredibly RARE rarepair that I've been keeping hidden for over 2 months now, Jangle and Chime. Twins who are complete opposites, but stick together as if they were glued to the hip.

Jangle is the more eccentric, hyperactive, silly, and chaotic half of the duo, always up and about, everywhere at once and speeding around like his life depends on it. There's rarely a moment where this one isn't doing something fun or getting into mischief as he makes it a point to search for the next adventure, regardless of the time or place. He has a love for performing, talented in many forms of entertainment and will gladly put on a show when asked to. Despite his childish nature, he is intelligent in his own ways, showing a deep interest in literature, philosophy, and morals, despite his young age. Furthermore, he has quite the eye for spotting lies and truths and he's not afraid to shout out what he sees. Funny enough, he is not a very good liar himself; he's quite blunt, but never wishes ill on anyone... unless they insult or upset his family. Perhaps Jangle takes his role as a jester very, VERY seriously. Chime is the quiet, emotional, timid, and insecure half of the duo, always preferring to stand back and let others take the spotlight and attention. Whereas Jangle is always found running about, never sticking to one spot, Chime would rather stay in her comfort zone, keeping to herself in a limited number of areas to minimize the amount of social interaction as much as possible. She finds more comfort in solitude and quiet, always becoming distressed if too much noise is made, too many people are present... or there's a minor inconvenience that just happened. It's very easy to upset her. Much like her brother, she is quite smart for her age, except her specialty lies with mathematics and anything involving numbers, which allows her to excel with machines, mechanics, and tinkering. She tends to do so often, finding it to be a special interest of sorts. Though, it's not all she does; Chime DOES have a particular interest in music as well. Perhaps one day she can finally make music that's just as pretty as her brother's. Moving onto some gameplay aspects; there is the topic of both twin's abilities, starting with Jangle's.

As it can be read here, Jangle's ability can stun Twisteds using the jester doll named Jack in his head, who has a separate conscious. His active is different from other toons' abilities, as instead of an instantaneous use, the ability can be charged up, which causes Jangle to start winding up to get ready to use his ability, which requires the ability button to be held down long enough. Thankfully, in moments of danger, he gradually speeds up the longer the icon is held. This can be particularly useful for distracting or escaping; You can release the button at any time before the ability goes off to save it.

For Chime, hers is also different from some toons' passive abilities. Using Bobette as an example, Bobette has a specific radius around her that toons can enter for stamina regeneration. However, with Chime, she doesn't have a radius. Instead, it relies solely on how areas of a map are divided into parts for her ability. Once she enters a room or a large area that counts as one space altogether, all toons within that area receive her extraction boost. though once she leaves, it will instantly wear off. She'd be useful when several machines are in the same area, offering support to all who extract on the nearby machines. Lastly, here are their trinkets!

I have. A LOT MORE. To talk about with them, since they're decently developed. But this post is already a smidge long as is and I'm tired, so I'll probably save it for another time. In the meantime, take these doodles of them as filler. (And you get to see the concepts for their Twisteds.) [ Edit: Btw if you got any questions, feel free to ask. I forgot to mention that originally, I was too tired. ]

[loveandmurders]

Broken without my siblings - Part 2

Hi everyone this is the last part of @totalfinalgirl 's request that you can find here.

Hope you'll enjoy! <3

Warnings: no proof reading, angst/comfort, violence, blood, death, toxic family, injuries, strong words

You couldn’t stand the idea of staying home, no matter how badly your hands hurt. The twins tried to convince you to rest and they offered to call your boss, but you refused. Lester agreed to pick you up and to drive you to work.

“Call me when ya need me to bring ya back home, ‘kay?” he said and you simply shrugged

“Yes, sure, thanks” you mumbled before leaving his truck

Your brothers checked on you quite a lot during the day, but at some point you didn’t answer them back anymore.

When it was time to leave work, you walked to the nearest hotel you could find. You took a room there, went outside to buy some clothes, you took them to the laundry and brought them back.

You didn’t have the strength to prepare some food, so you ordered in.

When you finally settled on the bed with your meal, you noticed all the messages and missed calls from your brothers. All three of them started to really panic over your absence of reply. The twins just wanted to look after you. Lester needed to make sure you were alright.

You knew you needed to call back or they would go look after you.

Bo picked up his phone right away.

“Hey, darlin’, ’s gettin’ late. Where are ya? Ya okay?” Bo worriedly asked

“Look, livin’ in Ambrose was a mistake. I’m gonna stay at an hotel til I find a new flat to settle in” you sternly replied

You were met by silence for a few instants. Bo’s heart shattered inside his chest by your words.

“No, wait, Y/N” Bo finally replied, his voice shaking “We’re gonna do better. Come back home, please. We can take care of ya, ya know we’re good at that” he pleaded

“Look everyone’s mad at everyone. I can’t stand being near ya right now, I really need some space from ya'll” you replied

“I’m sure we can fix this” Bo continued “I just need ya to tell me what we can do and we’ll do it.”

“There's nothin' to do. Have a good night, Bo” you said before hanging up

Vincent heard the discussion and when Bo saw him, they both started to violently fight. They also called Lester to let him know of your decision and to insult him.

For the first time, Lester and you turned your phones off, Vincent couldn’t sculpt anything and ended throwing wax everywhere, Bo was too heartbroken to be angry anymore. The four of you couldn’t believe that your bonds were now broken. You had always believed that nothing could tear you apart from one another, but it seemed you had been awfully wrong. The twins had no idea how to make things better and for once Lester or you didn’t want to try and fix things. 

They still tried to reach for you from time to time, because you were their baby sister, but you never replied more than a word or two.

The situation stayed like that for two weeks. No need to say you were all miserable, but what could you do? You had always been broken people in a dysfunctional family. What were you expecting? To love each other forever? Those kinds of bullshit didn’t exist.

You tried to tell yourself that it was a good thing that you cut off the bridges with your brothers. You needed to get out of this life with murderers. 

If things were better that way, why did you cry every night you went to a bed that wasn’t yours?

If things were better that way, why did Lester lock himself inside his place, rotting on the couch because fuck, what was he supposed to do now? Why couldn't Vincent create anymore as his mind couldn’t focus and his hands were badly shaking? Why was Bo so silent and unable to eat anymore, already losing some weight?

As your stitches disappeared and your wounds were healing, your heart didn’t. You wanted to come back home, but you couldn’t. It was over, you reminded yourself over and over again.

Until one night. 

Until you received a message from Bo:

“Hey, my favorite baby sister. Just need to tell ya how much I freakin love ya, how much I’d’ve done anythin. Anythin. For ya to come back home, even just a few hours. Forgot how awful it’s not havin ya around. Miss ya like hell. Miss our family like hell. Can’t do anythin about it no more. Just needed to let ya know I love ya one last time.”

You read the message over and over again, panic slowly sipping inside your heart. What was going on? You called Bo but he didn’t answer.

You then received a message from Vincent:

“I’m sorry I haven’t found a way to fix things between the four of us. It’s gonna be my biggest regret because I love you all so much. I love you, my baby sister. I love you more than anything. I’m sorry we’ve failed you, I’m sorry you hate us. I love you.”

You got up and started to dress without even realising what you were doing. You tried to text back, asking him what was going on but he didn’t answer you either.

You called Lester and you couldn’t even express how relieved you felt when you heard his voice.

“Lester, what’s goin’ on?! Did ya receive texts from the twins?” you urgently asked

“I did! Fuck, it’s goin’ badly at Ambrose” Lester replied with the same panic you felt inside of your chest

“Let’s meet up there” you said

You grabbed the knife your brothers offered you to keep yourself safe and ran outside. You drove to Ambrose without a care in the world for the speed limit. Luck was on your side as no one stopped you. 

When you arrived in Ambrose, Lester’s truck was already parked there. Then you noticed the blood, the broken windows, the dead bodies, the mess. You couldn’t think. How could you when you were losing your people?

You started to scream Bo, Vincent and Lester names. You didn’t care if the twins always told you needed to be quiet during a hunt. You were terrified for them. You needed to let them know that you loved them too. More than fucking anything. You were a family, you were meant to be all four together forever. You were whole only when you were together, otherwise you were just broken. You were nothing, meaningless.

You screamed their names again, until you heard a gunshot near the House of Wax.

You ran.

You ran as quickly as you could, adrenaline pumping inside your veins. You weren’t going to let your big brothers’ last words be full of regrets. They had to know you needed things to be fixed too or you would lose the remains of your sanity.

When you arrived, Lester was fighting with two men. Bo was bleeding on the ground. He had been shot. He was trying to grab his gun so he could aim at the people punching his kid brother, but he couldn’t. 

You didn’t think as you took your knife and jumped on the first man you could tackle on the ground. You brutally stabbed him over and over again. You weren’t thinking, acting on pure instinct. None of the four men had seen you coming. Lester quickly took advantage of the situation to break the other man’s kneecap before crushing his skull on the dirty ground of Ambrose. None of you were killers usually, but for your big brothers, you would do anything, like always.

Bo quietly whispered your names.

“Fuck, he’s bleedin’ a lot” you cried out as Lester started to assert the damage

“Bo, where's Vinny?” Lester asked and Bo barely had the strength to show the House of Wax with a motion of his head

“Ok, Les, ya take care of Bo. Ya find a way for him to stop bleedin’ and I take care of Vinny” you said

Lester nodded even though he didn’t like the idea of leaving you alone with tourists. However, the craze look in your eyes and the fact you were covered in blood gave him some reassurance you were going to be alright. You were about to get up when Bo found your hand. He shook his head.

“They’re killers” he whispered to you

“What?” you asked

“They’re a group of actual killers, like us” he added but it was painful to talk

“Ok, it’s alright. How many of them?” you asked

“I killed one, Vinny two, you both killed two… Still two.” Bo tried to think. 

“Seven people, really, guys??” Lester groaned “Are ya fuckin’ insane the two of ya?”

“They didn’t leave us the choice” 

You kissed Bo’s forehead

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna be alright” you promised him

“Scream if ya need help” Lester told you and you nodded before running inside the House of Wax.

This time, you didn’t yell out for Vincent’s name. You knew it wouldn’t be a good idea among killers.

You were carefully looking around, until a hand wrapped itself around your wrist and pulled you into a hidden corner. You tensed before relaxing when you recognised Vincent’s presence. He was injured, covered in blood and he looked exhausted. But most importantly, he was worried about you. He cradled your face and his eye seemed to ask you “What are you doing here, are you okay?”

You hugged him, glad he found you.

“Les is with Bo outside. I’m gonna help you to take care of the two last ones” you signed and Vincent shook his head

“I’m not risking your life” he signed back to you

“I love you too” you replied and you saw a lot of emotions going through his eye. 

He would have replied something if one of the “tourists” hadn’t smatched one of his sculptures on the ground

“No fucking idea what's this place, but we’ve only got one asshole to kill before robbing everything they had here.” you heard a deep voice say

“Yep, and he's injured. He might be quick, but his brother’s dead by now and he can’t hide forever” another voice replied “Right, freak? You can’t hide forever” the voice screamed, addressing to Vincent

Vincent thought for a few instant until he saw the bloody knife you were still holding. He gestured for you, showing you where you needed to go, and then he showed you where he would go.

“When they arrive in front of us, we jump on them and slice their throat open before they can fight back” Vincent explained and you nodded

His plan went accordingly.

Soon enough, both the twins were on the couch and Lester was looking after them. You were outside, making sure the seven men were dead and you brought their bodies inside the basement, through the House of Wax. No need to stay, you were utterly exhausted and sore when you went back home, like your brothers.

You all fell asleep in the living room, in your bloody clothes.

Next morning, you woke up to Bo making some pancakes.

As usual, he was the first one up and about. He had taken a shower and despite the pain, he was cooking for his family. When he had opened his eyes with all his people around him, he had let a few tears of pure relief cascading down his face. Then he had started to panic over the idea that Vincent was still upset at him and that Lester and you wouldn’t want to stick around. So he cleaned himself up and started to prepare breakfast.

Vincent got up and checked on his twin before going for a shower too. When he went downstairs again, he started to clean up around the house and then Ambrose. He knew he wouldn’t be able to finish before breakfast but he needed for things to look safe. Especially the house. He couldn’t let blood stains and broken glasses lay around there. His body wasn’t very happy about it, but he didn’t care. His family needed to feel at home. To feel safe.

Lester happily snuggled against you until you both felt like getting up. He gently whispered to you if you were still mad at him and when you shook your head, he smiled brightly. He excitedly kissed your face. Then he took your hands to make sure you had healed properly. He let you take a shower before him. You were happy to enter your room to grab some clean clothes. Lester kissed your cheek again when you met in the corridor.

You went to the kitchen and greeted Bo.

“How’s your wound?” you asked

“I’ve got worse” he shrugged before gently cupping your face and resting his forehead against yours “Ya didn’t get hurt last night, did ya?” he frowned and looked you up and down before checking your hands.

“No, I’m fine” you reassuringly replied

You both stayed silent for a little while

“Can I hope for a hug?” he whispered, pleading with you once again

You didn’t reply and carefully wrapped your arms around him. He quickly did the same and held you close.

“I missed ya too. And I love ya too, ‘course I do” you murmured and he tightened his hold on you “Can’t believe ya and Vinny sent Les and I goodbye texts” you rolled your eyes at their antics

“Didn’t know Vinny did too… But yeah, we were gonna die and… Don’t know, just didn’t feel right to not tell ya how much ya’re loved.” he explained

“I’m not too happy how badly things went but at least it reminded us we’re meant to be a family who fight for each other” you smiled

“Are ya comin’ back home then?” Bo asked, hopeful

“Of course” you nodded without even thinking about it

“Thank god” Bo relaxed and let his head fall on your shoulder

Vincent quietly entered the kitchen and dressed the table for breakfast. He wasn’t too sure how to ask you if things were also settled between the two of you. But he didn’t have to, as you left Bo’s embrace to find Vincent’s. The man happily welcomed you against his chest and softly rocked you and stroked your hair, taking into your scent. He kissed your forehead as well.

“Ya good, Vinny?” you asked as you gently left his arms to check on him. 

He quickly nodded, smiling behind his mask at the nickname. Like Lester and Bo before, he took your hands to inspect your palms. He seemed satisfied with how you healed. He removed enough of his mask to kiss both of them, as a silent apology.

“We’re good? You told Bo you were coming back home?” he asked, just to make sure he heard it right

“Yeah… Clearly I can’t leave the two of ya alone” you teasingly replied and Vincent’ eye lit up

“We do need you around. Lester too” Vincent said as he saw Lester shyly coming into the kitchen as well. 

Last time his brothers talked to him, they had been pretty nasty with him so he was feeling a little bit unsure around them. Bo and Vincent quickly walked to him and hugged him. Lester wasn’t used to it but after a few instant, he relaxed and held them back. You smiled at the scene and put the pancakes on the table, with some sauce and syrup.

Everyone settled at the kitchen table and started to eat in a comfortable silence.

The family was back together.

Always and forever.

[icingspring]

Hey guess what, I'm adding more but this time we're going ANIME themed!

First ship EVER- Sailor Mars x Tuxedo Mask

Fucking Sailor Mars (Rei) and Tuxedo Mask (Mamoru) from Sailor Moon. I started watching this anime when I was 4 fucking years old, and Sailor Mars was my favorite character on the show (and still is now tbh) so of course I wanted to see her with Tuxedo Mask because he was the only male character (at the time of me watching only limited episodes) that wasn't a villain, and I have no other reason for it. It is genuinely just shocking that I was already doing this at such a young age that I still think about it, sometimes.

First ship you were crazy for- InuKag

From the anime Inuyasha, this was the first "adult" anime that I ever watched; it consisted of me, 9 years old, sneaking down at 2am to watch the show on adult swim and hope I didn't get caught. At the time I LOVED their relationship and the will-they won't-they flirting around that kept happening. Nowadays I will say I have grown past them, but the nostalgia for them is still in my heart forever

Newest Ship- JinMao

From Apothecary Diaries. I absolutely am in LOVE with Maomao; she's a very driven, intelligent, caring but stoic, possibly mildly autistic woman who desires to know everything there is about illness, medicine, and all their effects. While the show itself is more like a historical detective plot line, I am completely drawn in by Jinshi's golden retriever energy and Maomao's black cat energy, and that wonderful mix that gives them such a beautiful relationship dynamic, and is also a relationship dynamic I hope for myself in real life, one day. So let's just say I find it inspirational and also a little enivable

Shipped them so much I read the manga- TamaHaru

From Ouran High School Host Club, one of my favorite animes EVER. Haruhi and Tamaki, very much like Maomao and Jinshi now that I think of it, also have that golden retriever/black cat energy that I love in stories. I also love that their romantic attraction really isn't immediate, but grows as they spend time together. They're both dumbasses in their own right and it's such a joy watching them slowly figure their own shit out in very comical ways. I HAD to read the manga to find out how they get together, and let me tell you it is a CRIME it was never animated because the whole thing is just so beautiful and heartwarming.

Ship I knew was doomed- IchiRuki

God FUCK this anime! Not really, I'm just frustrated about it. Look, Bleach was never meant to be about romance, and I personally lost interest in the story because I felt every arc was just getting monotonous and repetitive. I checked in sometimes for them, and when the last chapter was released and Ichigo and Rukia ended up in the relationships they were in.... it made sense? But I'm still allowed to be mad about it!

Ship you wish had been canon- Soul × Maka

Another anime where I read some of the manga, but alas no such luck with this one. Soul Eater, like Bleach, is not a romance anime. Soul and Maka are incredibly close; they live together, fight together, go everywhere together, not to mention that they literally connect with their souls when they become weapon and meister (iykyk, I'm not explaining that one here). But while I am upset they just stay friends, unlike Bleach, the author left things kinda open for them, so who knows? Maybe they'd get together when they officially turn adults.

A ship ahead of its time- Tsukimi x Kuranosuke

From the anime Princess Jellyfish, and seriously? An unabashed, confident drag queen as the main male lead? in 2009?? Fucking love it. I can't say that their relationship in of itself is revolutionary, and the cross-dressing is mostly a plot device to help the other female characters come out of their shells and give them confidence. But he never once apologizes for liking what he likes, and she never asks him to change. At the end of the day, that's what makes it so special.

Honorable Mentions:

Ash x Misty (Pokemon)

Frankenstein × Marie (Soul Eater)

Sawako x Kazehaya ( Kimi ni Todoke)

Naoya x Kou (Love is Hard for an Otaku)

Momo x Okarun (Dan da Dan)

Erin x Mikasa (Attack on Titan)

Yona x Hak (Akatsuki no Yona)

I know there's WAY more, but I can't think of them on the spot.

The Shipper Challenge

It's late, I'm bored and this seems like a fun challenge to do. Take a look back on some of my favorite ships over the years.

Favorite Ship- CaptainSwan

Emma and Hook, where to begin? Enemies to lovers, the chemistry, the angst. Everything about these two is just perfect from start to finish, and I just will never get over them. Enough said.

First Ship- BBRae

Beast Boy and Raven would be my first "official" ship, where I actively searched YouTube for compilation music videos of their scenes together with early 2000's punk love songs playing, but before I discovered FanFiction. Their weird sort of friendship, and just the small ways in which they looked out for each other, those small moments of vulnerability.... *sigh* you have no idea how much my heart soared when I found out many years later that they became canon in the official comics.

First Ship you were crazy for- Harmony

While I have never been the biggest HP fan, I still to this day can not understand why Harry and Hermione did not end up together. The combination of their complimentary personalities, similar interests, and the chemistry I felt in the movies, it seemed like a no brainer. They were the first ship I ever read FanFiction for, as I clearly was not getting what I wanted from the original material.

newest Ship- Shangqi and Katy

Oh yeah, I ship it. It's still in its early stages, and it's new enough and has enough leeway that if a katy/xialing pair were to happen instead, I would also be quite happy with that. However, I know the Marvel love formula, and this is hitting all the marks.

Ship you like but no one else does- Reylo

Not so much "no one else" likes it; trust me there are a lot of people who love them as much as I do, but they are probably the most controversial of my ships. What can I say? They had a fantastic dynamic, insane chemistry, and the literal connection they shared. For me it was irresistible, and I have never obsessed with another ship like with this one. I have read more fanfiction for this ship then every other ship I've ever discovered combined. The reylo fandom just has some of the best writers and creative minds, and I love it. They would have taken my "Favorite ship" spot if it wasn't for the way it FUCKING ENDED.

Ship you wish was endgame- Gendrya

Shipped them from the beginning. Yes, when they were kids in the second season, my first thought was "when they're adults they're going to get married." and DAMN IT! I WAS SO CLOSE! We can all agree thar GoT fell flat on a lot of things, and I definitely put this way up on the list.

Ship you wish had more screentime- FinnPoe

Honestly? I ship Finn with almost everyone, he's just such a likeable character; but in this case it really was a shame thar Disney didn't have the balls to make Finn and Poe a couple. 2019 was just a year of disappointments all around for the Star Wars fandom.

Ship you wish had been Canon- Romanogers

Natasha and Steve are what I like to call my "impossible ship". I know from the start that it's not going to happen. But damn do I think they have great chemistry together. They just got each other, especially in the MCU, and I feel like as a couple they would have been able to keep that dynamic while also being able to further lift each other up. I think Nat is so much like Peggy personality wise, but not enough that it would feel like Steve was substituting one for the other. It was hard to keep my hopes from getting too high, but at least I always have Winter Soldier to watch if I ever get nostalgic.

Ship you wish will be canon- Nalu

After the end of the original Fairy Tail manga/anime, I'd resigned myself to the fact that Natsu and Lucy will just always be that ambiguous couple with no solid answer on their romantic status. But then the sequel 100 Year Quest came out, and all these other favorite ships of mine like Gruvia, Gejevy, and Jerza are all starting to solidify into canon, and fucking Mashima-sensei is still staying ambiguous with the two most main characters of the series. PLEASE MASHIMA-SENSEI WE ASK SO LITTLE OF YOU! He has been feeding this fandom nothing but tiny crumbs from the beginning and yet somehow we are still thriving.

Wow, looking back on all of these the two main tropes I'm realizing are either enemies-to-lovers or friends-to-lovers. Don't get me wrong, I have other tropes that I enjoy, but they're harder to do properly; arranged marriage and fake relationship are two others that would be hard to conceptualize in a comprehensive and well though out manner.

Feel free to also ask yourself these questions, and make your own post! Make sure to tag me so I can read them!

[fluffyartbl0g]

The one piece reread only makes the hardest moments hit even harder,,,, even when you’re rereading it poorly in portugese

Or AKA, i found out today that HINATA SHOYO reads one piece and I haven’t recovered since

[twpsyn-who]

Today on "Another JeanMarco Soulmate AU absolutely no one asked for" I present to you -

Soulmate AU in which you stop seeing colors when your soulmate dies, the only exception being your soulmate. Now cue to Jean who just found Marco's, his best friend's, body. And you know, there's the shock of finding out Marco's dead. The pain and confusion and guilt. But there's also the revelation, because despite everything he can still see Marco like nothing took place at all- yes, half of his face is missing and his body is straight up lifeless, but Jean can still make out the color of his eye ; see that light shade of brown perfectly, remember all the times he has found himself looking at them while listening to Marco talk. He can still make out the colors of his uniform, see the same shade of black his hair has always had, practically see. Despite being dead, Marco was the only piece of color left in his life.

And there's denial for a moment because there's no way Marco was his soulmate. But that goes away fast, getting replaced by guilt. By the fact that he hasn't been there to save him, that Marco has to die all alone without anyone being there for him.

And that was worse than the simple fact that he could no longer see colors ; because Marco was there when Jean needed him, but he failed to do the same. And not only he lost his best friend that day, but his other half too.

[sixeyesonathiel]

a treatise on inconvenient attraction — teaser.

pairing — undercover prince satoru x servant reader

synopsis : satoru is many things: a crown prince in disguise, a so-called eunuch draped in silk and secrets, and entirely too clever for his own good. but when you appear in the middle of palace chaos—calm, competent, and wholly unimpressed—satoru finds himself watching a little too closely. you cure what the court physicians couldn’t, ask the wrong questions with the right kind of precision, and somehow manage to look like you belong everywhere and nowhere at once. he tells himself it’s curiosity. it’s duty. it’s absolutely not personal.

but then again, inconvenient things rarely are.

tags — oneshot, apothecary diaries au, fluff, humor, slow burn, sexual tension, secret identities, enemies to lovers, royal court politics, witty banter, eventual smut

a/n: dropping this 3.2k teaser before finals devours me like a cursed koi in a reflecting pond. i am but a humble court scribe flinging words into the wind before academia drags me kicking and screaming into its gilded dungeon. this week will be pain. this week will be suffering. this week will be caffeine, tears, and the haunting echo of “you should’ve started studying earlier.”

to my beloved bbs—my ride-or-dies, my imperial council of enablers—i will miss you terribly. i’ll crawl back next week, dehydrated but victorious. until then… read well, thirst responsibly. TAGLIST IS OPEN, COMMENT IF U WANT TO BE ADDED

a calamity of cosmic proportions had just befallen the imperial court—or so the wrenching sobs reverberating through the silk-draped pavilion would have you believe. 

a hairpin, delicate as a poet’s ego, had snapped clean in two, its jade heart fractured like the dreams of a dynasty on the wane. the air thrummed with tragedy, thick with the scent of jasmine oil and the faint, acrid tang of ink from a nearby scholar’s overturned pot, as if the universe itself had taken offense at the ornament’s demise.

at the pavilion’s heart, satoru held court like the star of an imperial opera, his presence a spectacle of calculated excess. 

“it is truly a heartbreak of craftsmanship,” he intoned, cradling the broken shard as if it were a soldier felled in a war only he had the imagination to mourn. the jade caught the morning light, refracting it into mournful glints that danced across the lacquered floor—enough sorrowful symbolism to inspire three ballads, a minor diplomatic incident, and at least one overwrought ode penned by a lovesick scribe. “this was no mere ornament, madam. this—this was a poem carved in bone and stone, an elegy to elegance itself.”

the concubine, lady mei, sniffled with the fervor of a stage heroine, her silk sleeves fluttering like moth wings as she dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief monogrammed in gold thread. each sob was a performance, perfectly pitched, as if she’d rehearsed it in front of a mirror. her powdered cheeks glistened with artfully placed tears, and the faintest smudge of kohl at her eyes suggested she’d mastered the art of crying without ruining her face.

satoru sighed, the sound heartfelt and entirely performative, a maestro playing to an audience of one. he tilted his head just so, pale hair spilling over his shoulder like moonlight cascading over porcelain, catching the light with a shimmer that felt choreographed.

a breeze curled through the open lattice, lifting the hem of his embroidered robes with such enviable timing it seemed less nature’s doing and more the work of a bribed servant sliding a screen open at precisely the right second. with satoru, either was plausible—nay, probable.

behind him loomed suguru, a study in austere black, hands clasped behind his back with the rigidity of a man bracing for chaos. his expression was carved from stone, all sharp angles and weary resignation, as if he’d been sculpted to endure satoru’s theatrics for eternity. his hair, tied with habitual neatness, let a few rogue strands graze his cheek, like even his appearance knew better than to fully relax in such company. 

his gaze skimmed the scene, heavy with the exhaustion of a man who’d watched this exact farce, with only slight variations in props, more times than the palace cats had stolen fish from the kitchens.

“perhaps,” satoru declared, raising the jade fragment aloft as if offering it to the heavens for judgment, “we must mourn it properly. a vigil, steeped in moonlight? a commemorative tea ceremony, with cups etched in sorrow?”

“a funeral pyre,” suguru muttered, voice dry as the desert beyond the red cliffs. “i’ll fetch the kindling. maybe some incense to mask the absurdity.”

satoru ignored him with the serene grace of a man who’d long since perfected the art of selective hearing, his eyes never leaving lady mei’s trembling form.

“fear not, my lady,” he vowed, dropping to one knee with the flourish of a knight swearing fealty in a tale spun by drunken bards. he clasped her hands, his fingers cool and deliberate, adorned with a single ring that glinted like a conspirator’s promise. “i shall find a replacement—more exquisite, more divine, more… unbreakable. yes, even if i must scour every silk merchant, every jade carver, every whispering bazaar between here and the red cliffs, where the winds themselves sing of lost treasures.”

he let the silence stretch, heavy with portent, as if the gods themselves were taking notes. lady mei gasped, her breath catching like a plucked zither string. a single tear traced her cheek, glistening like a dew-drop on a lotus petal—a prop so perfectly placed it deserved its own stanza.

mission accomplished. satoru’s lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smirk, gone before anyone but the narrator could catch it.

behind them, suguru pinched the bridge of his nose with the slow, methodical frustration of a man who knew it would do nothing but give his fingers something to do. his sigh was a silent prayer to deities who’d clearly abandoned him long ago.

when the theatrics finally subsided—lady mei comforted, her handkerchief sodden, the jade fragments swaddled in silk like relics of a forgotten saint—satoru glided from the pavilion with the poise of a swan who knew exactly how devastatingly beautiful he looked mid-stride. he trailed perfume, a heady blend of sandalwood and smug self-satisfaction, curling behind him like incense smoke in a temple to his own ego.

suguru followed, a silent shadow with a scowl etched so deeply it might’ve been carved by a jade artisan. his boots clicked against the stone tiles, each step a muted protest against the absurdity he was forced to endure.

once they slipped beneath a carved archway into a quieter corridor, the performance peeled away like silk robes sliding over lacquered floors. satoru’s spine straightened, the exaggerated flourishes vanished, and he walked with the easy, unyielding grace of a man born to command palaces and bend power to his will. 

the air here was cooler, scented with wisteria and the faint, medicinal bite of herbs drying in a distant courtyard, their bitterness a sharp counterpoint to the corridor’s polished serenity.

“what?” satoru asked, eyes gleaming with faux innocence as he adjusted the sapphire-studded sash at his waist, the fabric whispering against his fingers. “i was being helpful.”

“you were being ridiculous,” suguru replied, his voice flat as the surface of a frozen lake, though a faint twitch at his jaw betrayed the effort it took to keep it that way.

“ridiculously helpful,” satoru corrected, flashing a grin that could outshine the emperor’s polished jade throne. he flicked open his fan with a snap, the painted silk catching the light like a peacock’s tail, waved it twice, then forgot it entirely, leaving it to dangle like an afterthought.

suguru shot him a sidelong glance, more sigh than stare, the kind of look that carried the weight of a thousand unspoken retorts. 

now that the mask had fallen, subtle details sharpened into focus: the glint of satoru’s ceremonial earrings, small but forged from gold so pure they whispered of plundered kingdoms; the way his sleeves, just a touch too long, brushed the corridor’s tiles with a soft, deliberate drag, like a painter’s final stroke; his hair, nearly waist-length, swaying like a silk banner unfurled for a procession, catching the latticed sunlight in a cascade of silver.

“a hairpin emergency,” suguru deadpanned, his voice slicing through the air like a blade through silk. “you skipped a logistics meeting—where, might i add, we were discussing grain shortages—for a hairpin emergency.”

“it was tragic. deeply symbolic. that hairpin was the fragility of desire itself, suguru,” satoru said, his tone lofty, as if lecturing a particularly dense pupil. he gestured with the fan, now remembered, its arc as grand as a courtier’s bow. “a metaphor for the fleeting nature of beauty, shattered in an instant.”

suguru glanced skyward, seeking divine intervention from a heavens that had long since stopped answering. 

the corridor stretched before them, vermilion pillars rising in regal procession, their surfaces carved with dragons that seemed to smirk at the absurdity below. sunlight filtered through the screens, painting latticed shadows that danced over the tiles like a secret script only the palace walls could read.

“and your grand plan to unravel the true nature of court politics,” suguru said, each word measured, “involves… hosting interpretive grief sessions for concubines over broken accessories?”

“the best disguises become second nature,” satoru replied, winking with the confidence of a man who’d never doubted himself a day in his life. “besides, would you rather i play the stuffy prince, droning on about grain quotas and tax ledgers?”

suguru didn’t respond, which, to satoru, was as good as a standing ovation.

they turned a corner, the air shifting as they passed a courtyard where a fountain burbled, its water catching the light like scattered pearls. a pair of palace cats, sleek as whispers, darted across their path, their eyes glinting with the smugness of creatures who answered to no one. 

a servant, her robes the muted gray of dawn, bowed deeply as they passed, her gaze fixed on the floor, though the faintest tremble in her hands suggested she’d heard the hairpin saga and was bracing for its inevitable sequel.

and beneath it all, beyond the red walls and silk screens, something stirred. not fate—not yet. but close, like the first ripple on a still pond, or the faintest creak of a palace gate left ajar. 

for now, there was only satoru, strutting like a peacock in the emperor’s garden, his voice lilting, his feathers flashing in the sunlight—and suguru, the poor bastard doomed to trail him, shoulders squared, expression grim, half a pace behind like the world’s most disapproving shadow, forever caught in the orbit of a star that burned too bright to ever dim.

the palace hummed with a frenetic buzz—not the charming, festival-lanterns-and-rice-wine kind, where moonlight glints off sake cups and laughter spills like cherry blossoms, but the swarming, fretful, everyone’s-talking-and-no-one’s-hearing kind that screamed someone important was either sick, scandalized, or both. 

lucky for the court, it was a two-for-one special: the emperor’s favored concubine, lady hua, had taken ill, and the whispers swirling through the vermilion halls were ripe with intrigue sharp enough to cut silk.

it began with fainting spells, delicate as a willow branch snapping under snow. then came the headaches, each one described with the reverence of a poet lamenting lost love.

by the time rumors slithered to satoru’s ears, the court physicians had added skin lesions to the list—delicate ones, naturally, because heaven forbid a woman of the inner court suffer anything less than poetic. “female temperament,” the physicians declared with the smugness of men who’d never questioned their own brilliance, waving it off as a trifle. “probably just the summer heat, thickened by her delicate constitution.”

maybe it was. maybe it wasn’t. but satoru was bored—a state as dangerous as a spark in a lacquered pavilion when paired with his curiosity and the kind of power that hid beneath shimmering silk like a blade in a jeweled sheath.

he sprawled across a divan like a cat claiming its throne, pale hair spilling over the brocade cushion in a cascade that caught the lantern light like spun silver. “i want to see her,” he said lazily, one hand dangling over the edge, fingers brushing the cool jade inlay of the table beside him.

the air carried the faint sweetness of osmanthus from a nearby brazier, undercut by the sharp bite of ink drying on a discarded scroll.

suguru didn’t look up from the scroll he was pretending to read, arms crossed over his dark robes like a disapproving older sibling teetering on the edge of committing murder by eye-roll alone. his hair, tied with a cord of black silk, gleamed faintly in the slanted light, as if even it resented being dragged into satoru’s orbit.

“the emperor hasn’t summoned you,” he said, voice flat, though the faintest twitch of his brow betrayed his dwindling patience.

“that’s the beauty of being a fake eunuch,” satoru replied, already rising with the fluid grace of a dancer who knew every eye was on him. his robes—silver threaded with blue embroidery, obnoxiously tasteful—shimmered like moonlight on a still pond, the hem brushing the polished floor with a whisper. “every door swings open if you smile just right and flash a bit of charm.”

suguru exhaled through his nose, a sound that carried the weight of a thousand unspoken curses. “your highness, court gossip is beneath your station.”

“nothing is beneath my station when i’m playing eunuch,” satoru chirped, swiping a rice cake from a lacquered tray as he sauntered toward the door. he popped it into his mouth, the sesame seeds crunching faintly, and shot suguru a grin that was equal parts mischief and menace. “in fact, it’s half the fun.”

and just like that, he was gone, robes flaring behind him like a comet’s tail, leaving a trail of sandalwood perfume and impending chaos. 

suguru muttered a curse under his breath—something about peacocks and their inevitable reckoning—and followed, because someone had to keep the idiot from plummeting headfirst into disaster.

what they found at lady hua’s quarters was chaos distilled into a single, suffocating room. maids scurried like ants fleeing a crushed nest, their silk slippers whispering frantically against the floor. 

physicians argued in hushed but venomous tones, their sleeves flapping like indignant birds, while someone—likely a junior attendant—sobbed into a brass basin, the sound muffled but piercing. the air reeked of camphor, sharp and medicinal, tangled with the cloying sweetness of sandalwood incense and the sour undercurrent of barely-contained hysteria. 

a breeze from an open screen carried the faint tang of lotus blossoms from the courtyard, but it did little to ease the oppressive weight of the room.

satoru leaned against the doorframe, one hand languidly fanning himself with a jade-inlaid fan, its painted silk fluttering like a butterfly’s wing. the other hand rested lightly on the fan’s hilt, fingers tracing the carved dragon as if it might whisper secrets.

he looked like a man at the theater, idly amused by a tragedy he had no stake in—and to be fair, he was. his eyes, sharp as a hawk’s beneath their lazy half-lids, scanned the room with the casual precision of someone who missed nothing.

then his gaze snagged on something—or rather, someone.

you.

in the heart of the maelstrom, you were an island of calm, steady and still as a stone in a raging river.

you weren’t dressed like a physician—no embroidered insignia, no silk badge pinned to your belt like the pompous healers squawking nearby. your robe was simple, utilitarian, the color of weathered slate, its sleeves pinned up past your elbows to reveal forearms smudged with the faint green of crushed herbs. 

you crouched beside lady hua, movements quick, efficient, precise, as if the chaos around you was merely background noise to be tuned out. the room bent around you, maids and physicians alike giving you a wide berth, like you were the eye of a storm they dared not cross.

satoru straightened, just a fraction, the motion so subtle it might’ve gone unnoticed by anyone but suguru. his fan slowed, the silk shivering in the pause.

“who’s that?” he murmured, voice low, the words curling like smoke as he tilted his head, pale hair slipping over his shoulder like a waterfall of moonlight.

suguru had already clocked you, his arms now crossed tighter over his chest, the dark fabric of his robes creasing under the pressure. his jaw tightened, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. “not a court physician. not officially,” he said, each word clipped, as if he resented having to state the obvious.

“well,” satoru said, his lips curving into a smile that was equal parts intrigue and trouble, “now she’s interesting.”

you were wrapping lady hua’s wrist in linen soaked in something pungent—fangfeng root, if satoru’s nose didn’t betray him, mixed with the bitter bite of yanhusuo and a faint trace of ginseng. old-school herbs, the kind not dispensed in the palace’s pristine apothecary but ground by hand in shadowed apothecaries far from the emperor’s gaze. 

your fingers moved with the deftness of a musician, tying the linen with a knot so precise it could’ve shamed a sailor. beside you sat a worn wooden box, its corners scuffed from years of travel, but its contents were meticulously organized—vials labeled in a script too small to read from the door, tools gleaming faintly in the lantern light.

satoru’s eyes narrowed as he watched you work. your movements were too clean, too practiced, like someone who’d stitched wounds in the dark long before stepping into a palace. 

lady hua groaned softly, her face pale as the moon, and you pressed your fingers to her pulse, murmuring something under your breath. there was no softness in it, no coddling, just the calm precision of someone who knew exactly what they were doing—and didn’t care who saw.

and then—your eyes.

they flicked up, not to the patient, not to the bickering physicians, but to the room’s edges. to the guards in their lacquered armor, their spears glinting like threats in the corner. to the doors, half-open, where shadows shifted in the corridor. to the windows, where the lattice cast jagged shadows across the floor. 

your gaze moved like a soldier’s, mapping exits, calculating distances, noting every potential threat with a speed that was almost instinctual.

satoru felt a thrill crawl up his spine, sharp and electric, like the first crack of thunder before a storm.

“she flinched when the guards shifted,” he whispered, his fan now still, its silk drooping like a forgotten prop.

suguru’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes darkened, a storm cloud gathering behind them. “trauma?” he asked, voice low, testing the word like it might bite.

“training,” satoru replied, folding his fan with a slow, deliberate snap, the sound cutting through the room’s din like a blade. “she’s not afraid of chaos. she’s afraid of uniforms. of order that isn’t hers.”

he glanced at you again, and this time, you felt it. your shoulders stiffened, just for a heartbeat, as if you’d sensed a predator in the room. 

you didn’t look up, didn’t meet his eyes, but the way you angled your body—back to the wall, never cornered, one hand hovering near your box like it held more than herbs—told him everything. 

your kit was no mere healer’s tool; it was a survivor’s arsenal, scuffed and worn but as familiar to you as your own skin. the faint scar on your knuckle, barely visible, gleamed like a silent boast of battles won.

“is that why you’re smiling?” suguru asked, his voice bone-dry, cutting through satoru’s thoughts like a knife through silk.

satoru didn’t answer. not aloud. but oh, yes, he was smiling, lips curved like a crescent moon, because the emperor’s concubine might be fading, her breath shallow as a winter breeze.

but you?

you were alive—vibrantly, dangerously alive, a spark in a room full of smoke. your every movement screamed secrets, and your eyes held a story no one in this palace had the guts to read. 

lady hua’s illness might’ve been the court’s obsession, but you were something else entirely—a puzzle, a threat, a flame flickering just out of reach.

and satoru, with his boredom and his power and his peacock’s flair, had just found a problem worth solving. the air thrummed with it, heavy with the scent of camphor and intrigue, as the palace walls seemed to lean in, whispering of the chaos yet to come.

[cherie-doll]

dude omg think about it, cod men and cute agression with their s/o ALSIDJKSDGH

ASDKJFK (i did not proofread this, not like i ever do but, anyways)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

🝮 Price likes to surprise you by grabbing your wrist as you walk by his spot on the couch, pull you onto his lap and hold you whilst he nuzzles into your neck. It makes you squirm and laugh as you feel patches of his beard tickle your skin. Your moving around only causes him to grip your hand tighter, your laughter contagious as he smiles warmly at you, withholding his own laughter. He rarely does anything else though.

🝮 Ghost is really careful and hesitant at first, what if you're not okay with it? But when you start showing him how to show physical affection, he becomes more comfortable doing it. There won't be any indicators on his part when he's about to do it, he'll still for a moment, his fists tightening and then grabbing you suddenly, harshly almost. You feel him relax against you once he has his big, bulky, strong arms around you tight. He just really likes snatching you out of nowhere, holding you super tight against him until he lets a soft breath out. Kind of like holding a kitten close to you; it's relaxing once you feel its soft fur and forget about your problems for the day.

🝮 Soap aggressively sniffs you. Like, randomly coming up to you when you're doing mundane things such as reading, washing the dishes or just in bed scrolling on your phone. He won't just sniff in one place, no, he'll do it all over; your neck, shoulders, arms, chest, anywhere. And it makes you really confused as to why he does it when you haven't put on perfume yet so there must not be any scent to smell, right? No, somehow he can smell your "natural" scent. Whatever that means.

🝮 Gaz will run at you, tackle you, and try to hold you down while he attacks you with kisses. Quick smooches all over your face, neck, collarbone and keeps going lower and lower until you have to stop him before you turn into a puddle on the spot. Gosh, sometimes that man is too much, you swear he'll be the death of you someday. Even in a short amount of time, he can get in plenty of kisses. Ofc, you do it back at him when you catch him off guard, and it has sort of turned into a game you both play at home.

🝮 Roach will become clingy, so so clingy, so much so that he wraps all four of his limps around yours, tight like an octopus and won't let go. He's grinding his teeth because he wishes to do more but is holding back. Little noises can be heard from him as he itches to apply more pressure until he can merge into you, wishing to be closer, as if it were possible. He can't find what to do and you're just there, unable to get up from the couch. You wish to get up, to make it to the bed to sleep but he just won't let you get up. Trying to muster all your strength, you attempt to push his body off of yours but it's impossible. You sigh in defeat at having to sleep on the couch because who knows what got into your boyfriend, but you're kinda enjoying it.

🝮 Alejandro leaves bite marks. Everywhere. Will be eating next to you in the kitchen, you reach over for the salt or a napkin and next thing you know this man goes in for a bite because your arm was right there, in front of him. At this point, you're so unfazed that it barely registers anymore, it doesn't hurt because he doesn't bite down hard, he makes sure to never actually hurts you. The bite marks are barely there, unless you're going out right away you have no reason to worry over covering them. Sometimes you'll forget you even have a bite mark and someone will go "Violent toddler?" "No, loving husband".

🝮 Rudy tends to avoid trying to act upon impulsive, violet urges when his senses are overwhelmed. Will silently suffer because he doesn't want you complaining that he messed up your hair or makeup when he just wants to press kisses all over your face or bite you. So he does it but gently? Like he goes in for it but last minute he softens and you feel a set of teeth slowly sinking into your shoulder and you attempt to turn only to see Rodolfo and his soft eyes meetings yours, bashfully as if regretting it. Your reaction is worth it though, you simply laugh and tell him you don't mind since you do it all the time to him.

🝮 Phillip gets cuteness aggression even if you're not there. Weird, huh? He looks back on pictures of you on his phone, pictures that are horrid to you but endearing to him. Then he'll want to hold you so he's off to search for you, tracks you down within a minute and will pull you away from whatever you are doing to wrap his arms tightly around you and swing you around without a single word beforehand, might not even have greeted you if he had just returned home. Then, he'll set you down and lower his face to your height so you may kiss him, but if you hesitant for more than a second he'll sigh and instead kiss you all over.

🝮 Makarov gets the urge to bother you when you're mad because according to him "you look cute when you're mad". You may think he's belittling you, but he only does it if what you're upset over is considered "silly" by him. If you're seriously mad at him he will do anything to please you, seriously. But when it's over small things, he thinks it's the best time to be all up on you, not leaving you alone despite you being peeved and trying to push him away. Will poke your cheeks when they're puffed from you huffing in annoyance until he can't hold back from grabbing your face to forcefully meet his eyes. Will smush your face until you're making a pufferfish face.

🝮 Keegan will randomly just come at you, like just staring at you quiet when you're like "??" and in a swift manner will get up. It scares the living daylights out of you how fast he moves but you barely have time to react before he's bringing you down with him, tackling you onto the floor so you can't swat at him while he pinches your cheeks until they turn red. You whine and swat at him because it hurts but he just laughs meanly leaving a little kiss on top of your nose and walking away. You hate that you love that bastard.

🝮 König is the one who you dote on with climbing him and pressing a crap ton of kisses on his cheeks because you can't control yourself, but he's the tall one, he should be the one having a hard time not using his strength to pick you up and just press his face against your neck. One thing about König is that he goes absolutely feral when he can smell your scent very strongly. No, not when you're wearing perfume, he thinks the fabricated smell messes with your natural scent, he likes how you smell right when you wake up. The scent that lingers makes him want to bury his nose into your shirt or hair and smell that comforting scent.

🝮 Horangi will bite. That's what he's always so tempted to do. Will gently pinch your cheeks like two marshmallows, you laugh softly and he smiles at how cute you look, until he leans in and bites your cheek. Doesn't bite hard, just softly, enough to leave a little mark on your cheeks that goes away after a while. As for biting in other places... let's just say he's not so gentle there. Uses his height and strength to his advantage, can get pretty rough when "attacking" you, but that's just because he's overwhelmed and can barely handle it.

🝮 Nikto will have periods of time where you're both doing your own thing and then you feel the air change, the tv stopped playing. You look up to see this man staring at you and you can't tell what emotions are flickering behind those eyes by simply peering at him. It scares you at times honestly, until he grabs both sides of your face and moves your head slightly from one side to the other, like a bear and its massive paws toying with you. Leans in closer until your noses are touching and rubs aggressively. He does it until your face scrunches up and he smirks, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he lets go and you think that's it until he does it again.

[sai-int]

RTS! Simon and hovering over pregnant reader(that one detail of him saying about no more plan B is running rent free 🤭😔)

OMG

you don’t even test at first.

you just sort of know.

your body knows. your stomach rolls and pitches like you’re on a ship. your tits ache constantly, you start crying at a dog food commercial on the telly. your appetite’s weird, and worst of all—simon won’t leave you alone. he doesn’t even go to work anymore.

you’re not even surprised when you come stumbling out of the bathroom one morning, pale and clammy, and find him already awake, sitting at the edge of the bed with his arms crossed over his bare chest like a sentinel.

he looks at you. just looks. no “y‘alright, sweet‘art?” no “that time of the month?” just—

“...how long’s it been?”

you blink at him, swallow down a second wave of nausea. “huh?”

his brow twitches. “y’period. how long since the last one?”

you open your mouth to respond. stop. count backwards. “oh,” you say quietly. “uh. a while.”

he hums. like he already knew. then, calmly, like he’s reading off the weather forecast:

“we’re havin’ a baby.”

you blink. “you don’t know that.”

he gives you a look like yes, i do. —and really... how couldn’t he?

the two of you fuck like you’re making up for lost time, for stolen years, for all the years you’ll never get back.

it’s intense and possessive and constant, and simon hasn’t pulled out in months. not since he told you, gruff and low, “and y’better not take a fuckin’ plan b this time” before filling you up for the second time.

and now he’s hovering like a ghost with body heat. like a very worried grim reaper.

he doesn’t say “you’re pregnant.” he says “we’re havin’ a baby.” like it’s the two of you in this from the beginning.

you shuffle to the bed and he catches you before you sit, helps you lie down instead, his palm spreading wide and warm across your belly—even though there’s nothing to show yet.

you whisper, “you’re not mad?”

he scoffs, soft. “mad? m’not evenfuckin’ surprised. hardly mad, love.” his hand shifts. fingertips pressing lightly, tenderly, like he’s feeling for life. “honestly,” he murmurs, “i think i’ve known longer than you.”

—and as it all progresses and you start showing??? oh he’s everywhere. 

won’t let you lift a damn thing. wakes up before you do to make sure you’re eating something. gets you fancy crackers and ginger candies and sits beside you every time you’re sick. you catch him reading a pregnancy book once in the kitchen, squinting at it like it personally offended him.

—stays up at night googling ‘best pre-natal vitamin’ and ‘can you have sex while pregnant’

when you finally take a test—weeks later, jusssst to be 1000% sure—and it comes back positive, you hold it up to show him, voice cracking with nerves.

he just pulls you into his chest, presses his mouth to the crown of your head, and says:

“told you, love. was always gonna be you and me. now it’s us three.”

( and later, when you’re curled into his side and he’s got his hand low on your belly, murmuring something to the little bean inside you, you remind him—“this is your fault.”

he grins. “mean’t what I said. hate that plan b shite.”

you groan, shoving your face into his neck. “i thought that was just dirty talk!”

he chuckles. “yeah, well. now you’ve got a fuckin’ baby in you.

—still sexy, though.”)

[gis3lla]

seriously didn't mean it.

“seriously. stop chasing after me you freak,” is what he said after you had given him the 4th lunch for the week. your hands still offered that bento box out when he let out another grunt, hating how stupid you looked, chasing after him. you sighed as you shoved the bento box into his chest. you couldn't help it though. you liked him ever since you laid your eyes on him, almost like love at first sight. an angel sent to earth by Cupid.

“i made this myself. its all of your favorites!” you cheerfully said as he took the bento box in a harsh manner. when you exited the room, he quickly dumped everything out and shoved the box back into his bag. you weren't always the best at giving gifts, but you figured cooking, something you loved, was going to do the trick. you had spent weeks researching the yummiest dishes and complied them together for him.

it was during class. the teacher had placed you behind him, and he was furious. he hated how he was stuck with you every single day, every single hour. it was miserable. you kept bugging him, asking him about his day, about the bento box you had made him, and asked if he would like to eat anything else. he of course, declined. at the end of class, he had given you an empty bento box and left the classroom.

you were at his practice again. he can't stand you anymore, it's almost like if he saw you one more time he would explode in everyone's faces. you were nice to his teammates though. you always brought snacks and drinks for everyone, and made everyone laughed. well everyone except for him. he was stubbornly in the corner trying to get some peace while everyone else was laughing.

the final straw is when you followed him home. he hated how you were constantly trailing behind him everywhere, always talking. god how he wishes how you would just shut up for once. after explaining how awesome the new book you both were reading in class today, he finally snapped. he yelled at you. he confessed how he wished you would shut up and stop bothering him. how he threw away all of those lunches you spent weeks researching and testing to perfect the recipe.

you just stood there shocked and surprised about what he had just said, not processing anything, until it finally gets in your head. he doesn't like you. he thinks you're annoying. that is when you walked off to your own house, not even bothering to listen to him when he called your name.

the next day, you never paid any attention to him. he should feel relieved and relaxed that you weren't talking to him anymore, but he doesn't. he ignored the feeling at first. maybe you were just upset at him because of his outbreak, and then go back to annoying him next week.

except, when next week came, you came into class, silent. no tapping him in the back, no asking for pencils. you had brought your own. to be honest, you were scaring him with the way your giving him the silent treatment. when the bell rang for lunch, you never took out another bento box for him to have, the one reserved for him wasn't in your hands anymore when he looked at you walking away to talk to another friend of yours. maybe it was all normal, which is what he told himself.

by the start of the second week, he was genuinely questioning himself. why did he all of a sudden care when you stopped giving him attention? he was honestly frustrated with himself as he was feeling an emotion he had never felt before. was he possibly, in love with you? no. that's what he tried telling himself until his best friend smacked him back into reality when he saw you talking to another guy. that's when he knew he had to make it right.

the next morning you opened the door to find him waiting. you raised a brow as he handed you a small little trinket for your bag. "i heard that girls like these things.." he said shyly has you took the trinket from his hand. you thanked him, then walked off without waiting for him. an act that stung his heart a little, unlike before.

during lunch time, he had followed you to the secret staircase where you would eat lunch alone while finding different recipes to try and cook, but this time it was awkward with you sitting across from him. you both sat in silence while he tried to think of something to start a conversation. "so why did you start cooking?" he asked as you continued to eat. you never told him, you just stared at him, not willing to tell him that you only cooked because of him.

after school, he asked you to show up to practice again. he used the reason for his teammates missing you to make you show up. you were hesitant, but decided to go since you did miss them.

he kept going like this for weeks. shared lunches, he even asked you to start making lunch for him again, saying that his mom was too busy to make lunch for him. he walked home with you, and occasionally bought small key chains or trinkets for you. you didn't want to admit it, but you were slowly falling for him and his tricks again. not to be labeled as annoying again.

"I seriously don't know what you want from me, but I'm trying not to be annoying to you," you had said when you two were walking home from school. he froze, not realizing how much his words had an impact on you. "sorry, I genuinely didn't mean it. I was just tired that day," he had said quietly as he felt heat rushing to his cheeks. was it the right time to confess? it has only been a few months.

"i'm trying to get over you. so please stop," you said coldly as you started to pull out everything he has given you over the past weeks. he panicked, not wanting to go no contact again,"I like you. I'm sorry I was wrong."

then you both paused. maybe you haven't lost your chances yet.

characters: tsukishima, kenma, iwaizumi (?), suna, ushijima, semi, shirabu, kageyama, any character of your choice!

note: hello everyone! thank you all for the support!! i'll try and post whenever i can, but I might not at times due to my workload. if you have anything to request, please feel free to, I would love ideas. please interact!! you guys are all so sweet, thank you for reading and I hope you have an amazing day/night <3

[dearru]

do u guys know that one song by doja cat that goes “like fortnite ima need ur skin.” that’s what inspired this. hope u enjoy. | mlist

imagine you, an aspiring singer, starting to date the wildly influential streamer, kodzuken. you two are the definition of a picture perfect couple, and you start to make lots of content together. as a result, your career begins to take off, and kenma’s content grows in popularity,

everything’s great— until it isn’t. the relationship ends up crashing and burning in an embarrassingly public breakup.

people are devastated. video essays are made. diehard fans even claim the split is the equivalent of “parents divorcing.”

it’s a whole ordeal.

but as time passes, the wounds heal. and in true internet fashion, it becomes old news. some people still whisper about how they believe you two are soulmates, but for the most part, kenma’s chat and your comment section don’t get flooded with invasive questions about whether you two will get back together anymore.

fast forward to two years or so after the breakup, you and kenma end up growing in your respective careers. his several business ventures have grown exponentially, and you’re now selling out stadiums.

kenma doesn’t stream as much as he used to when you two were together, but he chalks it up to having to juggle so many different commitments now. fans speculate as to whether or not that’s the true reason, but as a collective, they agree that they’ll take whatever content they can get from the elusive creator.

despite not streaming as frequently, kenma still likes to indulge his audience every once in a while by hopping online. normally, he likes to decide what to play, but every once in a while, he’ll let chat decide.

tonight is one of those nights.

on a whim, he gives in to requests for him to boot up fortnite— an old favorite of his— for the first time in months.

big mistake.

the second he opens the once beloved game, he gets jumpscared by something that even his worst nightmares couldn’t have fathomed.

you.

everywhere.

to his horror, and the chat’s delight, he finds that you’ve become the poster child for fortnite’s newest campaign. your face is on the menu screen, banners of you flash in bright colors, and you’re plastered everywhere in the item shop.

they say men are constantly haunted by the ghost of their first love, and in a cruel twist of fate, it’s a saying that has become ironically true for kenma as he realizes that epic games has made you into a fucking skin.

he debates the consequences of throwing his pc into a wall, but his screen flashes with an overly excitable chat faster than he can make a decision. old fans are freaking out, new gen fans are wondering what all the fuss is about, and someone donates just to type “YOU’RE FUCKED.”

kenma has half the mind to laugh as the notification illuminates his face because he knows the donor is right.

he’s not an idiot. he knows that you’re popular now, but to be so famous that you have your own skin? he’s in absolute disbelief. there’s no way the universe hates him this much. it’s bad enough that you’re on every headline and radio station. now you’re in his favorite video game?!?!

he is so unbelievably, irrevocably fucked.

—a/n: i think that kenma’s viewers are evil and they all band together and emote on kenma with ur skin whenever they see him online.

—a/n #2: has anyone written abt this concept before. pls lmk. i would love to read it bc i giggled so hard when the thought popped in my head HAHAHA.

—a/n #3: guys i don’t play fortnite, watch streamers, or write for kenma at all so pls don’t hate on me ok thx love u

[hon3y-y]

Roomie!sukuna doesn't even get horny for anyone other than you anymore. You have the wettest, nastiest pussy he's ever seen- and he deserves the best so nobody but you will do. You're fucking so many other fine men now that you dont even give him a second glance when he walks out the shower in just a towel to tease you. And oh, his temper when one of your hookups pick you up and you don't come home for the weekend. Or even worse, they stay for the weekend. Sukuna has never let a girl sleep over at the apartment but now there are two colognes in the bathroom, two pairs or men's shoes at the door, and he can almost never see you in the living room without some other man hanging off your side

read the other parts here! : part 1 part 2 part 4

he’s literally so embarrassingggg it’s not even funny. he’ll walk around and flex his muscles, smirk on his puffy lips as the water drips down his ripped torso. he stands outside your open door, you’re looking down at your phone deciding on whether to spend the night at choso’s or nanami’s (pick choso, nanami gets up at like 5 am 🙄), “showers empty..” sukuna basically purr’s, resting his arm on the doorway.

and you literally could not give less of a fuck💀

you just nod, mumbling a ‘thanks’ as you focus on putting both their names in a generator and letting that choose your fate for the night. let’s just say sukuna was extremely angry when a motorcycle pulls up and you just giggle and hop onto it, kissing the stupid leather clad boy while throwing on the custom bikers helmet choso had made for you. and to top it off, sukuna had to physically restrain himself from blowing up your phone on where the fuck you are??

messages;

ryo<3: didn’t see you this morning

you: i’m staying with choso for the weekend! sorry, should’ve told you last night:/

you: i also won’t be home after wednesday satoru is taking me to this festival! i’ll send pics😋

ryo<3: have fun 👍

omfg he’s losing it. he literally will spend the whole time in the gym, refusing to be in the empty apartment for longer than eight hours for sleep. he feels like there’s a cement brick in his chest when you’re whisked away by these men. but nothing is worse than when he stays over.

he being satoru.

it was becoming a huge issue. his longest “sleepover” was a week. a week where you weren’t even home for half of it. but sukuna was. he was there for all of it.

there was now a third toothbrush taking up countertop space in the bathroom, he would find satoru’s clothes in the wash (which would always somehow be in there whenever ryo specifically had to use it??), and gojo absolutely loved to make out with you everywhere but inside of your room and sukuna started to hated it. publicly claiming you in front of the guy who literally made it possible🙄 unbelievable.

let’s just say you take a break from bringing satoru over, doing your best to settle the tension at home. but sukuna couldn’t let it go, not when he stares at the stupid fucking blue electric toothbrush and knows that it’s only temporary.

at this point he didn’t even give a fuck about the other guys, you can keep them as long as he’s added onto your roster.

it’s been a while since the two of you had a movie night. something that used to, at the very least, happen once a month has been delayed due to your extra activities. the two of you relaxed into the couch, the movie was a random one you found choosing whatever looked the best by cover and for the first time in a while, sukuna felt like he had you.

“did you buy the candy?”

“shit, yeah. i think i left it in my room?”

“go get it while i make the popcorn!” you smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling excitedly. you looked so cute and soft, and ryo got a glimpse of your cute pink panties when you bent over to grab something so he was feeling just as good. he could already picture the little damp spot he’d create after teasing you and then force you to beg and make it up to him.

he thought about it the whole walk to his room, picking up the bag and then back to the living room, fantasizing about what he plans to do. and just as he’s about to turn the corner, a head of white fluffy hair is laying on your lap, legs spread to take up the full length of the couch. and the only seat available? the one farthest from you.

“i hope you don’t mind, satoru said he missed us!”

us… sukuna looked down at gojo, looking at the content quirk in his lip while he snuggled into you more, moving one of your hands into his hair to play with it. ryo’s eye twitched before he put the bag down and went back into his room, the door slamming behind him. the noise makes you force satoru up, a pit forming in your stomach. you didn’t want sukuna to feel uncomfortable in his own house—

“damn, what’s he so mad abo- he got macha kitkats!? mmm~”

*bonus*

sukuna is literally in his room about to dry heave because??? what alternative version of himself gave him such bad karma?!? in his room like this;

but quietly, because he DEFINITELY doesn’t want you to see him like this. such a fein🤦‍♀️

a/n: i didn’t put smut because i didn’t want to get repetitive BUT should we finally let sukuna get a taste?? part 4 where he finally gets her?? lmk🫶

*not edited*

[jinwoosbabyboo]

The First Meet Self-Aware!Xavier

Sometimes maybe you're just the Juliet to his Romeo. Nothing more than a tragic love story, but what if you could rewrite the stars? pt. 1 here A/N: Before you fight me just read okay? Kisses 💋

Self-Aware!Xavier who's been blinding you with your screen brightness lately “Since when can you do that?” “I was testing the limits of my evol recently and figured it out cool right?” “Yes very cool but please stop blinding me it hurts”

It only took asking once for Xavier to stop adjusting your screen brightness. However he has been acting strange. It feels like he's hiding something; not necessarily something he can't tell you about more like something doesn't want to tell you about. Checking the app turned into a more frequent occurrence when he started disappearing constantly. You would often open the app to find the home screen cafe empty.

“Xavier!” the screen flashes and you see him appear with that same soft smile directed right at you “I’m here what do you need?” you stared at him unsure if you should accuse him of anything due to his strange actions lately. You didn't want to argue with him so you pushed your feelings down and sighed “Nothing just wondered where you went”

“I’m right here I'll always be here” He moved closer to the screen to get a better look at your eyes. “Is that all you were wondering?” You couldn't help, but sigh heavily as your curiosity got the best of you. “What have you been doing lately?” Stupid. Stupid. You mentally kicked yourself as the words rolled off your tongue before you could stop them. Why are you so jealous that he might be with in-game MC? It’s not like you can actually be with him. “Like I told you before I've been testing my evol” it still felt like he was hiding something under that soft gaze of his. You narrowed your eyes at hime “Xav if you want to spend more time with MC you don’t need to hide it from me” you could feel that terrible lump forming in your throat as reality set in that no matter how much you loved him; he’s not yours and never will be. Before he could answer you shook your head willing your tears to stay at bay “I have to go I'll be back later” you closed the app right as his mouth opened to say something.

You stopped opening the app after that. You thought that maybe if you stayed away long enough things would go back to normal and he wouldn’t be able to talk to you anymore. How do you grieve someone who doesn’t exist?

1 week later....

Since that conversation you’re not sure if you’ve become more sensitive to light or if you just happen to keep getting glares in your eyes because you’re just unlucky enough to be right where one can shine right in your eyes. You kept the lights in your house low or even just off to keep the light from blinding you. These constant blinding flashes of light were killing your head so you started wearing sunglasses everywhere and even using the walls to be your guide around your place because it was easier to just walk around in the dark.

Tonight was different though as you made your way to your bedroom your head was fuzzy along with your vision “I need to go to the eye doctor my vision may be getting worse” staggering to your bed you fell face first onto your bed and passed out. Your body felt weightless as if you were floating on a cloud. Your eyes fluttered open to see an expanse of stars and milky ways as far as the eye can see. “Y/N”

There was a voice, but it sounded as if it was underwater. “Y/N?” Words failed you as you tried to answer “I'm…. tired…..” you words were slurred and your eyelids were heavy. “Let’s go home together” the voice was much clearer now. “Xav….ier?” succumbing to the drowsiness that had you in a vice grip, your head fell back as everything went dark.

You jolted awake only to immediately be blinded by the sun shining in through the window. “At least it didn't give me a headache this time” You mumbled to yourself as you yawned into a big stretch. Your vision was clear again a stark contrast from what you fell asleep with. You started to take in your surroundings taking note that this wasn’t your room “Am I lucid dreaming?”

“The sun is too bright turn it off” a groggy voice whined next to you. Without thinking you kicked your leg out connecting directly with the strangers crotch who audibly groaned in pain. You sprinted out of the room only to realize you had no clue where you were. Rustling could be heard from the bedroom so there was no time to waste as long as you made it out of here as quick as possible. Freedom was within reach as you came up on the front door or at least you hoped it was the front door; only to be grabbed by your forearm and yanked back.

“I will scream bloody murder!” You yelled as you fought against this persons iron grip. “It’s me! Y/N it’s me open your eyes” not even realizing you were already screaming bloody murder with your eyes closed ; you opened them to see those deep blue eyes you’d dreamt about. “Xavier? Am I hallucinating?” You pulled your arm again and Xavier let go this time. You rapidly scanned the room and noticed this place looked exactly how it did in the game “There’s no way i’m standing in your apartment right now” You pinched the back of your hand and winced in pain.

Xavier rubbed the back of his neck as he nodded “Welcome to my home” you circled him skeptically eyeing him up and down. “Explain yourself”

“I was testing if I could manipulate the light in your world and it turned out that I could” That’s when it hit you that it was Xavier who’d been blinding you with light. You weren’t sure if you were pissed or flattered that he was trying to get your attention while you were ignoring him. No he literally made your life a living hell with that of course you were pissed. You took deep breaths as you tried to gather your thoughts. “So it was you that kept blinding me Xavier that gave me such insane headaches why would you do that?” You threw your arms up in exasperation as you began to pace. “I wanted your attention and you wouldn’t talk to me” He approached you with careful steps as you backed up at the same time. All those repressed feelings you had for the last week quickly surfaced just from looking at him. His face became blurry as your eyes filled with tears; just as you went to turn away you bumped into the kitchen counter. You stumbled to a stop as Xavier trapped you between himself and the counter. “Why did you leave me?” His lips pressed together in a thin line and you could tell he was trying to keep himself calm as well.

“Because we can’t be together Xav….” Your voice cut off as you choked up trying to keep your tears from falling. “Why not I'm right here” he had a point, but you don’t belong here; this isn’t your home and Xavier already has someone he was literally made to be with. “I can’t stay here Xav I can’t come between you and-” You yelped as he lifted you onto the counter and slotted himself between your soft thighs that were still bare from going to bed in a large t-shirt and spandex shorts. “I cut through time, space and reality to have you in front of me” His hands lingered on your thighs softly drawing circles with his thumbs. "Do you truly believe I want anyone other than you?" You went slack-jawed at his confession of how he managed to bring you here “You what?”

He dropped his head and exhaled a raspy chuckle, but there was no amusement in it “I was so lost when you stopped coming to see me I thought I was losing my mind” This man really did the impossible to get to you; there’s no way you could ever tell a single soul about this or you’ll be thrown head first into a mental asylum. The feeling of Xavier’s hand on your cheek pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. He gently wiped away a stray tear that you hadn’t even realized escaped. “You’re breathtaking in person” The blue in his irises was damn near non-existent as he studied your face almost as if he was trying to permanently burn the image into his mind. His stare was so intense it was like he couldn’t take his eyes off of you or you’d disappear.

You softly pushed his shoulder you try and get some distance because it felt like you couldn’t breathe with him this close. “Xavier please….” Your voice trailed off into nothing, but a breathy whisper. You didn’t know what you were asking him for; words seemed to be escaping you. His fingers wrapped around your wrist and held it next to your head as he leaned in closer. Your lips parted as your breath became heavy and his gaze immediately dropped to your lips. “Please what?”

Fuck it.

You wriggled your wrist free and grabbed him by the back of his neck slamming your lips onto his. Xavier wasted no time kissing you back, his arms wrapping about your waist pulling you tight against his toned body. Xavier kissed you like a man starved the way he parted your lips to allow his tongue in along with the quick nips and sucks to your bottom lip your mind was going fuzzy as you fell into him with reckless abandon. You drew back gasping for air and Xavier chased your lips pulling you back into a heated makeout session. Before you fell back under his spell you broke away and pressed your fingertips to his lips when he tried to chase you again. His breath was ragged and you could see his rapid pulse fluttering on his neck. Seeing him completely flushed with red cheeks and hot ears gave you butterflies “We should slow down we just met” You teased with a giggle. Xavier rolled his eyes and kissed your nose as he took a step back. You didn’t miss how he quickly adjusted his pants tucking himself into his waistband. “I’m sure you have many questions go ahead I'll answer all of them truthfully”

[neeeooon]

Hello!! May I request, where the reader traces the bllk chars' (Sae, Kaiser, Nagi, Reo, Rin) veiny hands without even noticing it, and they will have this reaction, either curious, shocked, or something? They either be in a relationship or just friends.

Thank you!! I hope you understand my grammar, English is not my first language. This is my first request, I really love your stories!!

thank you for the request!! and your grammar is great! 🩵

when you trace their hand veins

new relationship/friend bllk x clueless!reader. slightly suggestive in sae’s, reo’s, rin’s

itoshi sae

-> your relationship with sae was strictly platonic. yet you despised the thought of going on a date or spending time with someone who wasn’t him, and you had an inkling that he felt the same way about you

-> you’re cooking dinner together and chatting about your days. per routine, you’re in your normal spots: you at the stove, sae leaning against the counters to your left as he preps the food

-> he finished earlier than you, hands resting on the edge of the countertop. while waiting for the water to finish boiling, your hand mindlessly drifts over his arm, tracing the bulging veins from the way he’s leaning

-> your best friend is anything but subtle. “keep touching me like that, i’ll think you wanna be more than just my friend, y/n.” his words startle you at first, but when you look up and catch the way his eyes are deeply trained on you, you can’t help but step closer. “and be what instead, hm?”

michael kaiser

-> kaiser is always telling you how he hates the feel of hands on his skin, and you’ve seen how he flinches away from touch. however, he never complains or moves away when you curl into his side during movie nights

-> you only just started going out, so you’re surprised that he has so much patience and seems so comfortable with you. he told you in the past that you have a calm and inviting energy about you, but you don’t really know why

-> you’re watching an indie film, cuddled into his side without touching his skin too much, when your fingertips graze against his forearm. you don’t think anything of it, too immersed in the film, but kaiser feels your touch everywhere. and he doesn’t pull away

-> when kaiser flips your hand to clasp it and tightly intertwine your fingers, you finally realize what you were doing. “i’m sorry! i didn’t—“ “keep holding my hand..?” at the softness in his ask, they’d have to pry your dead body away to separate you from him

nagi seishiro

-> you and nagi were barely friends, but besides reo, you’re the only person who ever makes an effort to talk to him. his responses are usually short, but he always looks at you as you ramble about your day or a book you’re reading or what you ate for lunch

-> your class is traveling together for a field trip, and you decide to sit next to nagi on the bus. anxious about the trip, you find yourself subconsciously tracing the veins on nagi’s hand, which is pressed on the seat beside your thigh

-> he never says anything, so it takes a while for you to realize what you’re doing. once you do, you panic. “oh gosh, i’m sorry, nagi! that was super creepy of me, i swear i wasn’t doing that on purpose!” “‘s’okay. i don’t mind.”

mikage reo

-> you were waiting at his desk with your textbooks to study when reo returned from the gym. “oh, hey y/n! i forgot we were studying today.” “uh, yeah..!” you couldn’t pull your eyes from his arms if you wanted to. “gimme a sec to shower, and i’ll be right back!”

-> reo’s arms are still angry when he returns, making you feel all sorts of ways for your friend. sure, you’d been “talking” for a little while, but he was still only a friend

-> you’re seated close, forearms practically touching, as reo teaches you about business statistics. you’d never been as focused on market equations as you were with purple hair tickling your shoulder and cheek

-> “um, y/n?” “hm?” you pull your thoughts from how pretty reo is to follow his gaze, which is set on his arm. your fingers on his arm. tracing his veins. you nearly fall out of your chair with how fast you yank your hand away. “i’m sorry! how long was i doing that?!” “maybe fifteen min—“ “sorry, got to go! good night, reo!”

itoshi rin

-> you were curled up on the couch beside your childhood and longest best friend rin, dozing off while watching cartoons with him

-> trying to stay awake, you decided to fidget with your hands, which turned into fidgeting with his hand

-> you’re half asleep and unsure what’s happening. rin can’t turn his head in your direction because he’s afraid you’ll see how warm his face is

-> “pretty arms,” you mumble sleepily when you realize what you’re doing. rin only nods in response, praying you fall asleep before you realize the effect your touch has on your friend

[vvampirelust]

thinking about ice hockey player!abby

warnings: smut, 18+, dom!abby, sub!reader, strap on sex, spanking, quite rough sex, mentions of alcohol consumption, not proof read

that girl would get veryyyy possessive

she’s the star player, hell practically the star of campus. (frat!abby??) having been the captain back on her old high school team, she’s earned a name for herself.

so of course she’s gonna adore you in her jersey. surprising her post-game as you celebrate her victory, snug in her blue hockey hoodie #13 adorning the back. abby picks you up when you finally get to see her, kissing you with force, adrenaline still pumping through her veins. “did you see that?!” she’s asking excitedly, and there’s nothing you love more than seeing the passionate shine in her eyes as she recalls her last goal. you join her and the team for a celebratory beer in the parking lot, reminiscing and cheering loudly about the best moments.

“nice hoodie, babe,” abby calls from behind you as you both walk back to your car. abby, the few steps latter was enjoying the view with a smirk on her lips. you match her smile, twirling once in front of her, pulling a laugh from her throat, “you like? found it under my bed, wonder who left it there,” you shrug, a lightness to your voice. abby catches up to you, strong arms hugging you to her chest, faux gasp leaving her lips, “we’ll never know,” she breaks off into a chuckle and you can’t help but join her, shoving her with a roll of your eyes.

back home, you had abby pressed against the inside of her door. her dad away on a conference in seattle meant you and abby have been playing wife in her beach house for the past week. she set a challenge to fuck you anywhere and everywhere possible. who would complain? “baby. baby,” you’re both lost in the kids you’re sharing. the flat of your palms find her chest, pushing her softly against the door. “wait here two minutes, take your clothes off and i’ll meet you in the bedroom,” you speak lowly, flashing her the eyes as a coy smile spreads on your lips.

abby audibly groans, “fuck, go. now.” she orders, not wanting to wait any longer.

approximately 1 minute and 29 seconds later, abby finds you in nothing but her jersey, sprawled across the kingsized bed like a pornstar. she bites her lip as she takes you in, you’re so slutty, she thinks, she loves it. she makes a note to tease you for it at some point. “look at you, pretty girl,” she admires, those icy eyes never leaving your body, even as she walks around the side of the bed, “that all for me?” abby asks, breaking her gaze to bend over. just the sound of that specific drawer opening has your thighs rubbing together. her question fell on deaf ears, you too busy staring at your smokeshow of a girlfriend. she had done what you’d said, a pile of clothes on the stairs waiting to be tripped over in the morning. but god, the sight was worth it. your eyes trail the curve of her ass as she was rummaging, you’re near drooling over the way her back muscles shift beneath her tanned skin. abby smirks when she stands to face you again, busying herself with buckling the strap. abby clears her throat;

“baby.” your eyes find hers, “focus.”

head bobbing in a nod, you swallow the whimper threatening to escape. “i asked, if this was all for me? hm? you look so sexy in my hoodie babe,” abby crawls over where you are pushed up on your elbows, caging your body with hers. “you played so well out there tonight, anderson. thought you deserved it,” you tell her sweetly, inviting her in with open legs. abby chuckles, moving one big hand to cup the inside of your knee, ever so slowly sliding up your inner thigh. “gettin’ pussy for a good game, do i?” she’s smug, taking hold of what’s hers. you, now unbearably horny starts nodding, “yeah!”

“yeah, sweetheart?” she mocks the high pitch of your voice, lazily nodding along with you. “fuck me, you’re so wet,” thick fingers push between your folds, “want it bad, don’t you baby?” abby grins, looking down at the mess between your legs. “please, abby.” you pull her hair to gain access to her mouth, been deprived too long of the feeling of her lips on yours. her tongue invades your warm mouth, throaty groan following suit, which you swallow happily. the kiss ends with a wet smack, abby’s heavy breaths now mingling with your own. “i know, i know. i’m gonna fuck you, don’t worry. and you’re gonna keep that hoodie on, okay?”

“please baby, please fuck m-“ you can barely finish your sentence before she’s using those strong arms to flip you onto all fours, abby’s jersey hitching around your waist. you can feel the weight of her pretty pink strap against your thigh, ass wiggling in anticipation. abby responds with a surprisingly hard spank, jolting you onto your elbows as a yelp passes your lips. “abby, baby, please!” you feel the warmth of her free hand sliding up your spine, hiking her hoodie up, allowing her to see the arch of your back along with the word ‘Anderson’ boldly written in white along your shoulders. “fuck,” she moans.

a strong hand grasps your hip, you can hear abby spit behind you followed by her panting heavily. you whimper when you feel her tip splitting your slick folds, wasting no time as she begins to thrust inside of you. pushing deeper with each small rut of her hips, relishing in your little “uh, uh, uhs” abby does this until she bottoms out, your cunt stuffed and throbbing. “that’s it, you always take me so well baby.” abby grips your hips tight.

she fucks you with the same aggression she portrayed on the rink earlier that night. your chest flush against the mattress, your loud moans still echoing through the bedroom, even with your face smushed into the pillows, leaving a wet patch of drool and tears in your wake. using your hips to set the pace, she pulls you back on her cock, profanities slipping past her lips . “such a slut for me, fucking look at this pussy, squeezing so tight,” she moans so prettily, her clit rubbing against the strap just right. she stares at her surname as she gets off, the pace of her thrusts quickening, hurtling towards her climax. the sound of her moans shoot straight to your lower stomach, clenching tighter around her. “my fucking best girl, baby. just needed my lucky charm tonight,” abby huffs out, stuttering, “couldn’t have done it without you.”

abby cums with a cry, curling over your back, arms wrapping under your shoulders. her hips don’t falter for a second, riding out her high while pushing you to your own. at the last moment, her fingers thread in your hair, tugging your head back so she could hear you clearly. she wanted to hear you scream for her, just like you did when she won her game.

“abs i’m- oh my god, abby!” you follow right behind her, practically mewling like a bitch in heat. you cum hard, creaming on your girlfriends cock, she fucks you through it. even as it means hurtling herself into overstimulation, whimpering in your ear until she feels your body beginning to tremble beneath her. abby pants, pushing herself up with a grunt. palms spreading your cheeks, she watches the way your cunt tries clinging to her cock as she slowly pulls out. you’re a whimpering mess, “abby,” you mourn the stretch. “m’right here,” she tells you breathlessly, her thumb running down your folds, circling your gaping hole, collecting the creamy cum leaking from you. her teeth find purchase within her bottom lip once again, taking a last look at the hoodie bunched around your top half. and at her name decorating it.