#the academic weapon isn’t weaponing

[mysteriousrainsworld]

the urge to write something ridiculous at the end of a long description just because idk how to end it

[binders-and-beanies]

I’m a month away from graduation but this class feels like it’s gonna be the thing to break me

[loserlvrss]

— ☆ midterms suck ᵕ ༝ ᵕ but i promise i’m working on requests ᡣ𐭩

- soph 𓆤

[winterrrnight]

Rafe x bimbo!reader yes but what about Rafe x scholar!reader who’s literally an academic weapon. And not Rory Gilmore type of academic weapon; Paris Geller type of academic weapon. She has it all decided. She knows where she wants to go. She knows how she’s going to do it. And she is already two steps ahead of her plans. And not only is she book smart, she’s street smart. Rafe doesn't know how he bagged her, but he did and he’s damn proud of that. He’s her biggest supporter, always being so proud of her when she tells him her insane test results. He drops and picks her up from the library, and always awaits her with her favorite pastries. And you best know he is cheering for her the loudest when she gets the title of ‘valedictorian’. It isn’t “oh my god babe you did it!”, but it’s “of course you did it, if not you, then who? I always knew you could do it.” He’s always showing her off to his friends. “Oh my girlfriend? Yeah she’s in town on semester break. Which college you ask? Harvard, where else?” If she’s staying up late at night to study, he’s staying up with her too. “Babe, you need a break?” “Just ten more minutes…” “Alright bub I’m waiting for you yeah? Don’t overwork yourself please.” He always helps her test herself, hiding his face behind her flashcard as she tells him her answer confidently, and then peering at her with the biggest grin as he kisses her cheek. “Yes, that's absolutely correct babe!” And you best know he’s holding her tight when she feels like she can’t do it anymore, and it’s all too tough. “Oh baby don’t cry yeah? You are so strong and so intelligent, you just need a break. And when you’ll get back, you’ll get back stronger. And you’ll do it. There’s no one I have more faith in than you.”

Bonus: if she’s doing a course which has more male students than female, she’ll come back home grinning telling him she scored better than all the guys in her class. “Of course you did! They’re all little dumb boys, but you, you’re my smart, intelligent girl.”

(wrote this mostly to motivate me 🥲 I am not an academic weapon but unfortunately an academic victim) moodboard inspired by this post!

send me any of your drew/rafe/zach thoughts! (sfw only!)

[decentishoutsidersthoughts]

hey! since you said you liked doing the hc ask, do you have any modern!hcs of the gang?

I love modern AU’s lol, so here are my favorite hcs from that

Ponyboy like constantly has headphones in, it’s a genuine problem. Darry tells him he isn’t allowed to walk outside with them in but lets be honest bro does not listen

The entirety of the story from the book is chronicled on Reddit because Darry made a post asking for advice and had to keep updating it as everything went more to shit

Soda, Two-Bit, and Steve make fake cringe videos and think it’s the funniest thing ever

Dally definitely has multiple burner phones he uses for illegal activities

Soda drinks Monster energy drinks like nobody’s business. Steve once saw him go through five in one day and had to cut him off

This isn’t as much a modern thing as in general, but especially in a modern context Ponyboy is an absolute academic weapon. Like people are FIGHTING over him for group projects

Curly straight up uses Google and chat gpt for all his classes. Bro cheats on everything and it pisses Ponyboy off so much

Soda and Steve are constantly sending each other the most out of pocket Instagram reels. Like Steve will just be going about his day and get smth like ‘I’m glad you didn’t drip down your moms leg, you’re pretty cool’

Soda posts himself crying with Snapchat filters. Ponyboy Caught him doing it once and was like ‘you don’t even deserve comfort’

Ponyboy watches those YouTube video essays to do homework. Soda once caught him watching an 8 hour video on FNAF lore. He doesn’t play FNAF

The gang likes to play horror games and survival games together. I may do a batch of headcannons just about these

Darry is actually pretty well versed in internet trends but pretends not to be because he finds watching the gang try to explain skibidi toilet to him very funny

Soda, Two-Bit, and Steve are constantly screaming ‘GYATT’ at eachother

[di-writes-stuff]

The Very First Night

Derek Shepherd x fem!Reader

One Shot

TW: Literally nothing. I’m taking a quick break from Evermore because I am so in love with this man I need to write some fluffy shit for him. No use of Y/N

A/N: This is based around the whole prom episode. I needed some self indulgent fluffiness. Also yes I’m ignoring both Meredith and Addisons existence in relation to Derek. Fight me.

When the chief announced that Seattle Grace Hospital would be holding a prom, you would have thought he was kidding if he didn’t look so deadly serious.

You made a point not to look at a certain man when he announced it.

Derek Shepherd has made it his ultimate goal to get you on a date with him.

Under any other circumstance, you would have said yes in a heartbeat. Hell, you would have been praying for him to ask the second you met him.

He’s smart, he’s funny, he’s a neurosurgeon for God’s sake, not to mention that he’s absolutely gorgeous.

Derek Shepherd is perfect.

He’s also your boss.

The one and only reason you aren’t leaping at the prospect of a date with him.

The label of “slutty intern sleeping with her boss to get ahead” isn’t an appealing one.

But still, the man is very convincing.

You’re doing charts when he sidles up to you, that smile you always stare at a little too long plastered on his face.

He leans against the counter your working on, watching you while you work.

And desperately try to stay professional when you look at him.

“Do you need something, Dr. Shepherd?” You use his title pointedly, a reminder of the barrier between the two of you.

He couldn’t care less.

“Just some information.” He speaks casually, shrugging as he begins to walk, and you follow him without a second thought.

He’s whittling you down, and you both know it.

“About…?” You try to force a smile off your face, but it’s no use. He’s infectious. His flirting. His smile.

Him.

You’re not somebody who fails. You’re an incredible doctor, you’re going to be an incredible surgeon. You were always considered an academic weapon, acing almost every class you’ve taken.

You don’t fail.

But when it comes to resisting Derek?

You think you’re about to.

“You got any plans for prom?” He speaks smoothly, comfortably, like he’s not a grown man asking a grown woman to the prom.

Like he’s not praying you’ll say yes.

You laugh, looking down at the ground instead of his eyes.

His beautiful eyes.

“I guess I’m coming, but no, I don’t have plans.” You place a special emphasis on plans. You both know what plans means.

A date.

Derek smiles, brushing your side gently, getting you to look back up at him, your gaze softening when you see him.

“Great, I’ll pick you up at nine.” He grins at you, looking very pleased with himself.

You go to speak, and you plan on saying no before you do. Explaining for what feels like the millionth time that nothing can happen between the two of you.

And hating every second of it.

But instead, it’s like your brain does you a favor, and speaks before you can decide what to say.

“Okay.” Your voice is a little breathy, and obviously nervous.

Shock passes over his eyes for a second before the smile on his face grows wider, reaching his eyes and making them sparkle.

Really, how the hell were you supposed to say no to that?

Your hands brush for a moment, his fingers sweeping past yours, sending your heart rate up.

He says something before walking away, but you aren’t really paying attention, more panicking at what you just got yourself into.

You’re going to prom with Derek Shepherd.

You never planned on taking this very seriously. You were just gonna throw on your dress from senior year, slip into some heels, and head back to the hospital.

But now?

Needless to say, you’ll be spending more time getting ready.

……………………………………………………………………………………

Two hours.

You left work early, and spent two damn hours getting ready for the prom.

All because of Derek Shepherd.

He’s the bane of your existence.

You can’t think around him.

You can’t think about much besides him.

When you’re with him, your happier than you’ve ever been.

Everything about him just makes you adore him more. His personality, his talent, his skills, his smile, his laugh, everything.

He might just be the love of your life.

You brush out the carefully placed curls in your hair, watching as they fall over your shoulders in waves. Your old prom dress still fits you, thank God.

The satin fabric hugs your waist, thin straps showing off your collarbone and shoulders.

A slit runs up from the bottom of the flowing skirt of the dress, stopping around the middle of your thigh.

Even you have to admit you look good.

You slip on your heels when you hear a knock at the door, and you swear you feel your heart stop.

You look at the clock by your bed.

9:00 exactly.

He really might be perfect.

Meredith peeks her head into your room, you’re living with her for the time being.

She smiles when she sees you despite how uncomfortable you look.

You haven’t been on a date in months, and you don’t think you’ve been this gussied up in years.

“You look great. I’m sure Derek’s gonna agree.” She teases you, all your friends have known you have a thing for Derek since you started your internship at Seattle Grace.

And now that you finally caved and said yes to a date with him?

You’re gonna be hearing a lot of shit about it tomorrow.

You can’t help but feel like this’ll be worth it.

“Thank you, and shut up.” Meredith laughs at your attitude, heading downstairs to her boyfriend, Finn.

You follow behind her, exhaling nervously before opening the front door to find Derek standing in front of you.

Derek, decked out in a suit and tie.

His hair is perfect, as usual.

And in his hands, a bouquet.

A bouquet of your favorite flowers.

You mentioned it once. A simple, offhand comment. You can’t even remember how it came up. But he did.

He remembered. He cared.

He’s making it really hard for you not to fall in love with him.

For a second you recognized an expression on his face you’re not sure you’ve seen before. He looked nervous. That was before his classic McDreamy smile appeared on his face when he saw you.

“Did I get it right?” He asked, handing you the flowers.

You’re blushing like a schoolgirl, honestly a bit giddy. Here you are, getting flowers, being taken to prom by the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

You nod, taking them and stepping inside to let Derek in.

“Yeah, yeah you got it right.” You speak quieter than you usually would as you quickly place the flowers in the vase, smiling widely when you feel his eyes glued to your every move.

You turn around to find Derek watching you, a sweet smile on his face, a look in his eyes that means more than just simple attraction.

He admires you carefully, not as a painting, a still, lifeless thing meant for him to enjoy, to examine, to scrutinize.

No.

He admires you like a worshipper in church.

He adores you, and the look in his eyes might as well be a sign around his neck that reads ‘I’m in love with you.’

“You’re beautiful.” His voice is breathy when he speaks, and the words cause a vivid blush to rise on your face.

You utter your thanks shyly, stepping towards him and taking his hand when he offers it. He regains his composure quickly, slipping back into the flirty pattern you two follow.

Still, the basis of it, the reason why all of this is happening.

It’s not flirtation. Not attraction. Not even because you like each other.

It’s more than that.

It’s love.

He leads you to his car, you’ve been in it a couple times before, on the way to dinners you swore weren’t dates, nights spent with one another when you were still adamant on refusing to develop feelings for your boss.

Or, adamant on pretending not to, at least.

The car ride isn’t terribly long, but somewhere in the middle of it, your hand is on the middle console when Derek’s comes down from the wheel, landing on top of yours.

You don’t move, and he takes the opportunity to interlace your fingers, earning a smile from you that makes him wish he could freeze time and stay in this moment forever.

“Thank you, for asking me.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you look over at him. His eyes stay glued to the road, but you watch as the corners of his mouth lift to a smile.

“Thank you for saying yes.” He quips back, looking over to you when you stop at a red light.

You laugh for a moment before responding. “It was about damn time.”

The moonlight glistens off his face as he laughs, every detail about him making you fall for him more.

He’s mesmerizing, and you can’t bring yourself to take your gaze off of him.

You’ve got it bad.

“Yeah, it was.” Theres still laughter lingering in his voice when he speaks, and you think you could melt right then and there at the sound of it.

It’s not long after that when you arrive at the hospital. You go to open your door before Derek does so for you, going to the effort of helping you out.

“What a gentlemen.” You say teasingly, letting your hand stay clasped in his as you walk into the hospital.

“I’ve been trying to land a date with you for months, I’m not gonna screw it up now.” He smiles down at you when he speaks, scanning your face. Pieces of hair fall to frame it, and he brings his free hand up to brush them away quickly, knowing the affect it has on you when you blush and look away quickly.

You’re honestly a bit shocked when you see how put together the whole event it, decorations are everywhere, and the lobby has been turned into a dance floor.

You already see a few people you know, the ones that came here with dates are already dancing, and the ones that are alone?

Well, they’re drinking the night away.

You don’t realize where Derek is taking you, too busy looking around, until his arm slips around your waist, and his other hand is holding yours as you’re pressed flush to his chest.

Derek Shepherd just asked you to dance, without saying a word.

“May I?” He’s good at this, and he knows it.

For a brief, insecure moment, you wonder why. You wonder if the reason this is so natural for him is because you’re not the only woman he does it for.

If you’re just a phase.

A tough one to crack.

You worry that he doesn’t feel the same way as you do.

But then, you look him in the eyes, and the softest, the gentle, loving, adoration in his gaze.

Your worries vanish like fog burning away on a summer morning.

“I’m not very good at this.” You warn, smiling sheepishly up at him as he begins to sway you, a grin on his lips.

You’re closer than you’ve ever been. Your free arm is thrown around his neck lazily, and you could melt into his embrace.

He leans down, whispering in your ear, his minty breath fanning over your neck. “I don’t mind.”

You smile when you hear him, laughing sweetly when he continues to dance with you. There’s a few people watching. You and Derek have become a topic of conversation around the hospital ever since he started pursuing you so strongly.

So, pretty much since your first day.

Neither of you seem to mind, to engrossed in each other to care. He hasn’t stopped looking at you this whole night. You’re always stunning, he usually can’t keep his eyes off you when you’re just in your scrubs.

But tonight?

You look like an angel came down to earth.

Derek lifts your arm above your head quickly and spins you, smiling brightly when the sound of your bubbly laughter reaches his ears.

It’s the best thing he’s ever heard.

When he pulls you back in your pressed close to him, touching his chest with yours, staring up into his cerulean eyes. Your breathe mingles as he looks down to you, his gaze flickering to your lips as he does.

Everything else feels like it just disappears. The only thing that matters, the only thing in your world, is the man standing in front of you.

You curse yourself for waiting so long. For always being so damn good. For not letting yourself have this sooner.

Have him sooner.

Every single time he asked you out, you wanted to say yes. But you didn’t, you were too focused on everything you shouldn’t have been.

Colleagues.

Expectations.

Assumptions.

Everything but him.

And now?

You’re done.

So when he leans forward, when his lips brush yours. You close your eyes and let him kiss you, and it makes your knees weak. It rips the air out of your lungs.

It flips your world upside down.

You could have repeated this moment forever and been happy.

You move against him, kissing back, running your hands through his hair. His hands slip further down your waist, coming to rest on the small of your back.

Your forced to pull away as you begin to run out of air, gasping a bit as you do. You press your forehead to Derek’s, smiling widely.

He pulls you in closer, and you bring your head to rest in the crook of his neck, and he sways you back and forth, abandoning any efforts of actually trying to dance.

“You got me.” You whisper, and you feel laughter rumbling in his chest when he hears you.

After all this time, all of the asking, all the flirting, everything.

You let go.

Let go of your worries.

And grabbed on to him.

And you are never, ever, letting go.

A/N: Soooo this is short and kinda cheesy ngl, but I hope y’all liked it.

edit: guys stop glazing we all know this doesn’t deserve over 600 likes

- di <3

[sun-ea-sports]

Hi waves!! gonna rant abt another Phighting au now 😎

Ok so basically it’s a highschool au and like. all the phighters are just humans‼️

More yapping below cut kicks legs back n forth/silly

I imagine the school hierarchy sorta goes like; the phighters are students, the gods are like. teachers n stuff (Illumina is the principal), and there could be some npcs who could also be teachers‼️

Everyone would have like, real names instead of being called after gears. However, I imagine PHIGHTING! would be some sort of video game, and so the phighters nickname each other after which character they main. Ex; Skateboard maining a character using a skateboard as a weapon, so the others nickname him “Skate”!!

The phighters would be all one big friendgroup. The factions are prolly like. smaller friendgroups within the larger group that are just close friends!!

Okayy miscellaneous info abt little details now:

1. Medkit n Subspace would be like. academic rivals. I think the difference would be though, that Medkit isn’t really trying, whilst Subspace is

2. Ban Hammer prolly gets taunted a lot for being a “momma’s boy”. He’d also get out of trouble easily due to his mom working at the office n such. (Other lil thing is that banlands is like, detention. So Ban Hammer snitches on bad students to send them to detention‼️)

3. The Biografts are quintuplets that no one can tell apart. Only 1 of them actually plays their version of PHIGHTING! the rest are just cursed with the nickname cause no one can tell them apart,,, I do imagine they wear stuff to differentiate though. Ex; Floatiegraft would wear duck pins n stuff‼️

4. Skateboard gets reprimanded a lot for skateboarding on school grounds.

5. Slingshot’s cafe would probably be like, him helping out in the cafeteria. Or it’d be one of those “illegal” school trading things idk.

6. Not all the phighters n npcs are in the same grade!!! The younger ones (like, Shuriken, Slingshot, Rocket, etc) would be in like 9th-10th grade. While the older ones (Katana, Ban Hammer, etc) would be in like, 12th grade. And then Lightblox is like. In 7th grade.

7. The skins would prolly be like. Halloween costumes or just different outfits!!

Scratches my head yeah that’s it for now ermm!!

However, I do have 2 characters (sorta) designed with names. PLEASE THIS IS OLD ART FROM LEGIT MONTHS AGO 😣😣😣 I’ll redesign them soon,,,,,

okayy that’s it 🫶🫶 thank you for reading abt my silly little au that popped up in my brain. 4 months ago,,

If anyone wants to, y’all can also design other phighters/npcs/sfoth and give them names n stuff 🫡. except erm, for Boombox cause a close friend wants to design him!! Everyone else is free for grabs :3c

[geraldmariaivo]

Another one of these

Damian’s new classmate is odd, though not nearly as unpleasant to be around as everyone else at the school.

He doesn’t seem to be from wealthy family, but he also seems mostly unconcerned with the punishments doled out by the school for “getting into fights with his peers,” unlike many of the students in on academic programs. He thinks himself stupid, but Damian would be worried about having him as a rogue from the things he’s seen the boy tinkering with if he didn’t know that Fenton had his heart set on NASA. He’s clumsy, but it seems to be out of habit rather than any true issues with balance and spatial awareness. He filled in Damian’s gaps in knowledge concerning social structures and how to operate within them, with only minimal prompting. Whenever Damian forgot a word or figure of speech in English, and used the equivalent in a different language, Fenton always understood.

He has a dog that he has yet to let meet, but claims that “Cujo isn’t really my dog, he just hangs around.”

He is clearly metahuman. If the abnormal body temperature, changing eye color, and ability to avoid Damian so consistently weren’t enough evidence, then the fact that his presence made Damian so at ease, made him feel safe, energized, and reassured of his own competence in some strange way the not even his father or Richard could, was the nail in the coffin.

Naturally, Damian sought out his company during lunch and group projects.

It was only logical to evaluate Fenton so as to make sure he knew what to expect should the boy be controlled either by extortion or by any of the rogues’ mind control methods. It was only a beneficial side effect that doing so made Damian feel safer, made his thoughts of inadequacy quiet down, and made it easier to rest without a weapon. It also helped that Fenton didn’t question things like most of his family did. His peer didn’t ask why he needed a nap after a 3-day weekend with no homework. He didn’t ask why Damian was out “sick” so often. He simply handed Damian a sleeping mask to make it easier to rest, even if he didn’t fall asleep. He gave Damian a guide to the shorthand he used for class notes, and filled him in on what he missed whenever he came home from being “ill.” He offered smuggled-in over the counter medications during study sessions freely, and with no question as to why Damian favored his right leg for the next week or so.

Damian saw Fenton during patrol once, when he and Batman had gotten to the crime scene after Fenton had broken the ribs of one of the robbers.

Damian would even go so far as to call Fenton his peer in his civilian life, though he would appreciate it if the rest of his siblings would stop teasing him about his “new friend,” and asking him “when are you going to invite your friend over?”

As tempting as it was to stab them into stopping it, he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Alfred’s disappointed stare.

This fondness for Fenton was the only reason he didn’t immediately hold a knife to the boy’s throat when it was clear that he knew about what had happened.

“What had happened” being Damian falling through his chair, and partway into the ground with no warning.

That, and Fenton’s response of “Damn, this is the first time I’ve seen you fall through something all year. What made you finally slip up? Family issues? Death day coming up?”

[miniversse]

⭑”race my heart”pt.2⭑

╰┈➤ OTHER PARTS

⭑ lee know x female reader

⭑ synopsis: lee know, your academic rival strikes your path again during a motorbike meet up, and the lines of hatred and love begin to blur. as the engines rev and the wind blows hard, these lines intertwine and you both spill the bottles of emotions you had for eachother.

⭑ content includes: unprotected sex, spanking, degrading, non-idol lee know, non-idol reader, in established relationship, enemies to lovers, drinking, semi-public sex

⭑ minors dni

⭑——————————————————⭑

as we zoomed through the city streets, the wind rushed past us, and i let my eyes fall shut to take in the cold air. the engine roared as lee know would pick up his pace and you had no other choice but to hold him tighter and push your body closer to his. the way he handled the motorbike, the way he wore his helmet, and the way the city lights reflected over him all made your stomach flutter…

you come to a slow stop at a red light and you gain your hearing again, hearing the other cars on your sides.

“you’re not gonna ask where i live?” you exclaimed over the loud rumbling of his motorbike

“i’m stopping by a kiosk first” the hues turn green and you squeeze him tighter, preparing to take off.

lee know stops at an empty, dark lot of a small kiosk. the parking lot haopened to be behind the building and you were terrified of staying alone.

“i’m gonna grab a beer, need anything?”

“i’m not staying here alone did you lose your mind?!”

“tough luck, i’m not risking my motorbike getting stolen because you can’t wait a few minutes in the dark” he takes his helmet off and adjusts his hair. god you’ve never seen anyone like him.

“i’ll be fast” he walks off, and you’re left waiting in the eerie lot that’s only light source was the kiosks ugly sign.

“so, where do you work now?” he cracks his beer can open and signals you to do the same.

“me? i’m the manager of a computer engineering team” the silence was long and painful, so you throw his question back at him. “what about you?”

“uh, i’ve got a job at my dads liquor store.”

lee know? the academic weapon? working at his dads liquor store? something’s not adding up.

“oh, that’s cool” you take another sip, storing all this information to bring to your friend next time you meet up. he gets on his motorbike, facing you and letting his back rest on the handles. his legs spread wide open, and he glances at you for long periods of time.

“you’ve changed, a lot” his voice is quite, as if embarrassed to state so.

“yeah, you too. no longer that teasing young fucker you were”

“who said i won’t tease you right now right here? hm?” he says confidently.

you scoff, and just before you get to answer him, he’s pulling at your legs and moving you closer to him. he pulls your body on top of his legs and his eyes search yours.

“answer me. how do you know i won’t tease you?”

“i-i don’t kno-“ his lips crash onto yours, silencing you once and for all. his lips were so smooth and captivating, pulling you in for every kiss delicately. he progresses to biting at your lower lip and sucking at it to numb the pain. you let out quite whimpers to address the pain, but he only seemed to go harder and faster.

“l-lee know” you struggle to voice his name between his tongue and mouth, but he places a hand on your back and keeps going.

“call me a fucker again, and i’ll be bound to do it to you. you hear me? whore.”

your developing a wet spot, and the dirty talk isn’t soothing it at all. your feelings of challenging him arise again, and you move your lips to his ear and linger for a moment.

“fu-cker” you pronounce every letter clearly, letting him know you’re up for a challenge and he squints at you in disbelief. his hands move to your shorts and he unbuttons and zips them, pulling you up to drag them off of you. you do the same to him, fighting his growing bulge to strip his lower body bare. vibrations of the engine intensified the knot in your stomach, and you squirmed in your place.

“get down you cumslut, let’s see how i can deal with you” you oblige and move down, the cold air caressing your skin.

“bend over, now.” he puts a hand on your back and another wrapping the top of your thigh, and your wet spot grew thinking of how he would fill you up.

his fingers hook the hem of your underwear and he pulls them down at a painfully slow rate, really teasing you. his fingers find his way to your folds and he feels how wet you are. he lets out a chuckle in your ear, fueling his ego. his fingers push into your opening and you let out a breathy moan. he doesn’t move much, taking his time and slowly exploring your cunt as if you weren’t infront of him fighting to keep your legs stable.

“does cumslut want my dick?”

“y-yes, fuck. please.”

“mmm, you can beg for it.”

your head falls as he curls his fingers inside of you and reaches your good spot frequently. you’re panting now and you needed him inside of you, to get rid of that knot in your stomach.

“p-please lee know, i need you inside m-me. please”

“who was better in school?” the question startled you, and you tried to stand your ground.

“m-me”. his hand strikes across your ass, and you let out a series of whimpers. he asked the same question and you gave the same answer for what felt like forever until you couldn’t handle the pain of him striking your ass, giving in to give him the answer he wants.

“y-you”

“good girl” he caresses the spot he abused, and it felt heavenly at that moment. he brings his head down to your neck, and he marks your skin with hickeys. 

you were growing desperate and put your arm behind you, trying to find his length to guide it into you. he notices your desperate actions and you felt his tip nudge your folds, and you moved back into him to take him in, bringing your hand back to hold on. his cock enters you, and your moans fade into the large and empty lot. he pounces into you at a painstakingly slow pace, slowly picking it up as he widens your tight hole.

“god you’re so tight, i’ll fuck you till you’re loose” and with that he fastens his pace, the sound of his body slamming into you joined with his hissing and repetitive “yeahs” brought you to the edge, moaning sweet nothings to him.

“let me fill you up cumslut, y-yeah?” he picks up his pace and moves into you at an ungodly pace. his warm release fills your insides, and soon yours do too. lee know pants frantically trying to regulate his breathing, and you process everything that happened in the last few minutes. he pulls out of you and helps you put your clothes back on, frozen shocked at his act of kindness. 

you sat back on his motorbike, finishing the remains of the warm beer. he had his hands on both sides of your legs, watching your every move. his face was perfect in every way, and he had a major glow up from your school days. the neon lights casted on his face, and his muscles peeked from his tank top.

“im not satisfied” his voice fills the silence and you look at him with a confused face

“what do you mean?”

“i mean that i need to fuck you till your dry” his confidence was something you envied, he would pierce his eyes into you every time he challenged you and it always worked. the growing emotions of desperation and love for him grew.

“are you sure you can? i don’t think you have the stamina”

“let me show you what stamina looks like” he pushes you to the back and rides in the front, placing his helmet on and bringing you closer to his body. you were on the city roads again, holding onto the man you once wished death upon.

⭑ hihi! im still debating whether to continue one last part or stop it here. if you’ve made it to the end, id really value your opinion!

⭑ TAG LIST

@rylea08

@captainchrisstan

@all4minnie

@strayywayy

[tsuutarr]

A were-wolf hottie and no pic, give me the fluffy hooligan please 😫

Extra points if it's enemies to lovers trope, except no vampire verses wolf, more like were cat or coyote vs wolf?. Scooby-Doo zombie mayhem got me

(So I ended up doing a bit of a rivals to lovers kind of thing rather than enemies! I didn't have too much info to go off of, so if this fic isn't to your liking, feel free to send me another ask with more details!)

Pairing: Vilkas Lunewood (werewolf OC) x werecat! reader

Contents: one-sided rivalry (somewhat one-sided romantic pining) where Vilkas thinks of you as his greatest rival to beat on exams.

Word count: 1180

Even though Vilkas would rather read his favorite book in a cozy nook, he’s known as a brute – someone who can weaponize his fists to subdue all that cross him. His sharp eyes and broad figure do little to deter his reputation as a brutish hooligan. However, despite his reputation, Vilkas has never started any fights – it’s just that he’s always finished them, being the last one standing.

It’s hardly his fault that he’s so strong, though, especially since strength is the least of his concerns. No, his much bigger concern is defeating you, his stupidly pretty werecat rival, academically.

“Hm… I could’ve done that a bit better…” you murmur from beside him. You’re both staring at the recent exam scores posted on the bulletin board.

He smells you before he hears you. Vilkas has always noticed your scent, something warm and soft – something he associates with afternoon naps basking in the gentle rays of the sun. Not that it matters, really, not when you’re constantly kicking him to the curb in terms of your grades. He’s been number one for as long as he can remember, but then you come along and place him in the number two spot consecutively. And you look cute while you do it. Frustrating!

“Ah, Lunewood, your score’s gone up, hm? That’s good to see.”

Vilkas scowls at how easily you address him, gloating about your victory. You’ve never been scared of him, always talking to him whenever you can. It’s stupid. You’re stupid. You and your stupidly lovely ears and stupidly adorable tail and that sweet voice and–

“Lunewood?”

“What?” he growls, his eyebrows furrowed at the center.

“Ah, you look rather upset, is all.”

“I am not.” Of course Vilkas isn’t upset – he’s good at taking a loss! And even if he is upset (which he isn’t), it’s not like he’s bothering anyone! The clear distance most people are keeping from him is definitely, definitely not because they think he’s scary for scowling – that’d be ridiculous!

“If you say so.”

Vilkas’ scowl deepens.

“Ah. It was quite nice chatting with you. I’ve got to head off now.”

Vilkas’ nose scrunches. You’re probably gonna stick your nose into a stupid little book (something he’d do too). You’re gonna brew yourself your favorite beverage as you curl up to read something you like and you’re gonna look so cute doing it and it’s so annoying to Vilkas to think about.

Stupid, stupid werecat.

.

.

.

The next time Vilkas encounters you, it’s because he smells your warm scent mingled with a scent he’d only describe as sour. His frown deepens as he follows the smell, before coming across you getting harassed by some no-good werewolf.

Ugh. Seriously. Like yeah, you’re cute and charming and whatever, but couldn’t that stupid werewolf pick another cat to pick on? Like why’s that dumb werewolf wasting time flirting with you? And why haven’t you just beat that stupid, no-good werewolf off with a stick? You’ve got the claws to scratch him up. Ugh. Whatever. It’s not his business–

“Leave the cat alone,” he spits, despite his inner monologue. He’s not helping you because he thinks you need his help or because he’s worried or whatever. He just doesn’t have anything better to do. That’s what he tells himself as he sizes up the werewolf that’s been hitting on you.

“Yeah? What’re ya gonna do about it if I don’t?” the no-good werewolf hisses, standing taller to appear bigger. The no-good werewolf is bigger than you, a werecat, but can’t compare to the sheer muscle mass Vilkas boasts.

“I’m not gonna do anythin’ about it,” Vilkas growls. “‘Cause you’re not gonna give me a reason to do anythin’ about it.”

The no-good werewolf falters briefly at the deadly gleam in Vilkas’s eyes, but decides to stupidly stand his ground. “You want me to give you a reason to scram?”

“You think you got what it takes?” Vilkas shoots back, his teeth bared. His tail bristles, ears flattened against his head.

“Lunewood,” your voice calls, which irritatingly makes Vilkas feel calmer. “Let’s just go.”

Vilkas isn’t sure what to do – he’s not really one to back down from a fight, but your voice and smell just make Vilkas feel… softer, like he’s wrapped in a you-shaped blanket.

“Wait–” the no-good werewolf’s face pales. “Lunewood? Vilkas Lunewood?”

Vilkas stands taller. “What about it?”

“No–nothing!” a squeak leaves the werewolf’s mouth as his tail tucks between his legs, before he runs away.

“...I should’ve punched him once,” Vilkas grumbles, crossing his arms.

“Hm, maybe you should’ve,” you agree lightly. “The more I think about it, the more I dislike him.” You spin on your heel, turning to Vilkas with a smile. “Thanks, by the way. I appreciate it.”

Hmph, a good ploy on your part – trying to make him lower his guard by thanking him? If you think that your thanks makes Vilkas’ tail wag, you’re so very correct – Vilkas tries his best to temper his tail’s excitement, but he just gives up because he can’t. “It’s nothing. I didn’t do it for you.”

Your cute little cat ears and tail twitch. “Oh.”

Vilkas immediately feels bad.

“I guess it was one of those territory things, then? Did you want to mark your territory?”

Vilkas huffs out something akin to a laugh. The only thing here that he’d want to mark is you – wait, scratch that.

“Well, anyway. Can I take you to a café or something to thank you?”

What? Why would you want to feed him? It’s not like he did anything great. Is this a trick? Are you trying to poison him?!

“Or do you not like sweets?” you look contemplative. “Maybe barbeque…? But my campus job doesn’t pay that much…”

“A café is fine,” he grunts, tail swishing behind him. “You can buy me a barbecue when I beat you on our next exams.”

You tilt your head to the side, confused. “But you’ve never been able to beat me before?”

Vilkas’ eyes narrow as you hum in thought.

“Oh! Is this like a bet?” your eyes glint mischievously, a cheeky smile curling on your lips. Cute. “How about it, Lunewood? If you beat me in the next exam, I’ll treat you to a barbeque. If I win… Well, I’ll keep that a secret for now.”

“What?” Vilkas asks, frown set deep in his mouth.

“Hm? Are you scared?” you tease, your voice taking on a lilt that makes Vilkas want to chase you down and mark you.

“Don’t bet on it, kitty-cat,” he responds. “I ain’t scared of anything.”

“Then is the bet on?”

Vilkas doesn’t hesitate when he answers with, “You bet.”

.

.

.

(You two do head to the café, much to Vilkas’ pleasure [since he wants a sweet treat, that’s it. It’s not because he’s hanging out with you or anything]. You’re surprisingly interesting to talk to, which he should’ve maybe expected since you’re his rival. You’ve got pretty good tastes when it comes to books and a good eye for cute cafés too.)

[heliads]

hiiii! I’d really like a Draco Malfoy x fem!slytherin!reader where they used to be BEST friends and started to date, but then ended up breaking up on bad terms (due to some angsty miscommunication). so it’s basically like best friends to exes to lovers but in the end it’s super fluffy and Draco’s a little simp even tho that’s lowkey ooc

'friendships end' - draco malfoy

masterlist

It’s been a long time since you’ve heard from Draco Malfoy, which is unusual. Typically, he likes to make his presence known. Yet it’s been many months since his owl sent word of his exploits, or the last time he sought you out in the Slytherin common room to explain at length the latest novelties to come his way. You used to love that, you know– the trust, the confidence in you to hear him out– but now you love the silence more, or so you tell yourself. Then again, you suppose the emptiness is your fault. After all, you’re the one who broke up with him. 

You hadn’t wanted to, of course. Not really. In the heat of yet another argument, you’d convinced yourself that a breakup would be good, but in the time since then, you’ve only been spiraling into memories of what had been yours before you took it all away. You had been happier with Draco, hadn’t you? Now all you can do is second-guess yourself and wonder if you had been wrong to end the one brilliant thing that had belonged to you and no one else.

It had been inevitable that you and Draco would start dating. That’s what your other friends of Slytherin House had said, at least, when the news broke. It seemed like the entirety of Hogwarts had known within a few hours of your first date together. Gossip spreads like wildfire in a school like this, and as it turns out, more than a few of your fellow students had been expecting you two to get together for quite some time.

At first, it had seemed like yet another victory in your pocket. Draco loved you and you loved him. The two of you were the talk of the town. Stealing Draco’s heart might have been the best hat-trick you’d ever pulled off, and he might say the same thing about you. You traded scarves and stole his jackets, bought each other roses and studied side by side in the common room every night, borrowing glances when you were sure the other wasn’t looking. Every move felt like a miracle– look at this person, who loves only me. Somehow, I managed to make them fall in love with me, despite all odds and all other people, and now they’ll be mine forever.

Only– forever isn’t a true thing, not in the wizarding world, and certainly not in fast-paced Slytherin. Every day, there are new battles to be fought, more prizes to be won, and victories that can be won by one person and one person only. You and Draco stopped competing together and started fighting against each other to secure the top places. Instead of being happy for each other when you got high exam scores, it felt like more nails in your coffin. Wouldn’t he grow tired of you if you couldn’t get your grades up? And he went to bed afraid, lay up all night wondering, wouldn’t you move on if Draco couldn’t win more Quidditch games?

Regardless if the two of you actually depended that much on each other’s academic and personal successes for your love to flourish, it certainly felt that way. The other Slytherin students, which at first had welcomed your relationship with open arms, turned against you, whispering to each other like snakes whenever you passed them in the corridors. Nowhere felt safe except by each other’s side, and then not even that. You swore Draco was mocking you to Crabbe and Goyle. He thought you were bad-mouthing him to Pansy and Astoria. 

And then, after weeks of rumors and indecision, it all came to a fiery head. You accused each other of not actually caring about each other and lying about what you’d done and worse things, too. When the voices were raised and the words got bad, you pulled for the last weapon you had up your sleeve and announced that you wanted to break up with him. You were assuming that Draco would recognize the move for what it was, a last-ditch attempt for him to realize that you were on fragile ground, but instead his eyes just flashed and he agreed that separation would be best for you two.

All of a sudden, it was over. Years in the making, only months in the having. The two of you have never been able to do anything but escalate a situation– grades, love, and this, now– so of course Draco would never back down from a fight. One of you always had to be better. One of you always had to have the last laugh. And now you’re both alone, forever on opposite sides of a classroom or common room, staring daggers at each other’s backs because it’s the only glimpse you’ll ever be able to catch of the person who had once sworn to love you forever.

It’s terrible because not only have you lost your love, you’ve lost your friend. You and Draco were the best of friends before you started dating, it’s why you felt confident enough to risk your heart on a Malfoy. You knew he would never hurt you because he never has, and then he did. Sitting with the broken fragments of your heart in your hands, your first instinct was to go to Draco about this, and then the truth slowly sunk in that you couldn’t, that you never could trust him with your honesty again. Draco knew every part of you, broken and bare, good and bad and ugly, and he ended things anyway. If Draco Malfoy can break your heart, then where is the proof that love could ever exist anywhere again?

Friendships end. Friendships always end. You know this to be true. Either by sudden death or slow drifting, best friends never stay that way forever. You’ll have irreconcilable differences that lead to jaded arguments, or time will intervene and you’ll stop seeing each other around, then stop making attempts to care. You’ve chosen the first end, it seems, but since when would anything with you and Draco end with a lackluster indifference? You would either pledge yourselves to each other forever or go out with enough chill to ice you both out for good. There was no world in which you could go quietly.

Perhaps this is true, perhaps it was meant to be all along that two people so ambitious and excitable as you two could never end with anything but terror, but Merlin, if you don’t hate it now. You straggle from class to class, hardly able to convince yourself to put in the effort to care about what you’re learning. You’ll lock in long enough to study for exams, and turn in halfway decent papers, of course, but your heart isn’t in it anymore.

And how could it? You have no heart. It’s gone, lost to you forever in the annex of a corridor a few turns away from the Slytherin common room, where Draco stalked away from you, unaware or perhaps not caring about the blood he tracks wherever he goes. He ripped your heart in two and washed his hands of the agony. You wish you could do the same, but every new day just reminds you of how much you wish you were with him.

Still, you move on, or you try to, at least. Draco clearly has. He hardly spares a word for you, not even a gloating reminder that he’s got the upper hand since he isn’t wallowing in self-pity on a day-to-day basis. He’s simply busy all of the time, too busy for you. You’re not so busy that you don’t notice it, and certainly not busy enough that it wouldn’t hurt.

Yes, you miss Draco, but who wouldn’t? What a time in your life. There are some people in life that you simply won’t be able to forget, and you have a feeling that Draco Malfoy is one of them. As much as you would love to push him into the past and lock him up with all the other dusty relics of times long since gone, he refuses to be barricaded with the rest of your childhood playthings and old friends.

He’s always been too ambitious for his own good, hasn’t he? And so have you. It’s what drew the two of you together in the first place, and it’s what drew you apart. You try to use that same strength to push yourself onwards and upwards, and it works for a time, but never completely. You can throw yourself back into your studies and spend your free time laughing with friends, but there will always come a time at the end of the day in which you have nothing to occupy your heedless minutes, when the gloomy thoughts come creeping back in again and you wonder– just why did you have to let him go, really?

Not even the strictest schedule in the world can free you of regret, it seems. You feel like you’re being torn apart at all seams even as you attempt to force yourself back together again. Your nerves are flighty, your senses on constant high alert, and you can’t seem to stop your eyes from scanning the room whenever someone exits or enters, just in case Draco might come in, just in case he might see you as anything but your best. You have to prove that you’re doing better than him, but you’re not sure if you can convince him of that when you can hardly convince yourself.

Days go by, blending into weeks, and then two months have come and gone and you’re no better off than you were at the start. Things with Draco are still painful, like testing a wound just to watch the stitches come undone. Every interaction with him is terrible. You run into each other in the corridors and he practically flinches with an effort to look away again. You both raise your hands to answer the same question in class and you almost sprain a muscle in your effort to quickly pull your arm down again. You and Draco approach the entrance to the common room at the same time and have to stand there, side by side, pretending you don’t notice each other at all. 

It’s an awful sort of hell, having to feign indifference to the one person who used to be able to read you like a book. Maybe he still can, maybe not even time and separation can heal Draco of that great gift, or maybe he just doesn’t care enough to attempt to read between your lines anymore. Maybe he’s not faking apathy with you. Maybe he truly just doesn’t care.

Despite your tendency to think that way, your friends seem to have none of it. They keep telling you that he stares when he thinks you’re not looking, that every time some boy asks for your help on a problem in class, Draco snaps a quill or otherwise looks like he’s going to burst a blood vessel from failing to keep himself in check.

You don’t have the heart to believe them. Your friends will tell you whatever they think is right to get you to smile again. You know you’ve been ruining the mood whenever you complain about Draco, but you’ve been trying to work on that, too. You’ve been trying to work on a lot. It doesn’t always go the way you plan it.

Still, when they talk like that, you can’t help but secretly listen along. You catch Draco looking one time, then again. The second time, he doesn’t look away, but keeps holding your gaze like an oath, a promise. He used to smile whenever he caught your eye in class, but this time, his gaze is more serious. It feels like life and death, and it’s only just the two of you happening to look the same way at the same time.

Everything feels charged. You cross paths and the entire corridor seems to crackle with energy. You know how this feels, you remember it from the first time around, so at this point, it isn’t a question of if you’ll make another mistake but when.

When, as it turns out, is about a week later. You’re walking back from the library, late one night when a problem set got the better of you. After finishing the work at long last, all you want to do is go back to the Slytherin common room so you can go to sleep. Halfway back, though, you run into Draco, obviously coming from a similar situation given the ink stains on his writing hand.

Usually, this is the part where one of you doubles back or otherwise hides from the other, but instead Draco looks at you, and says, “Walk with me?”

You agree before you know what you’re doing. At first, your footsteps echo in the silent halls, and then you gather up the courage to speak again. “It’s been a while since I saw you.”

Draco scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. I saw you in class this morning.”

You give him a dour look. “You know what I mean. I don’t think you’ve spoken to me on purpose since–”

Since the fight, that is. Since both of you walked out on each other. Draco looks away for a moment, and when he speaks again, the syllables are terse and clipped. “I didn’t think you wanted to talk. After all, you were the one who ended things.”

You sigh. “I didn’t want to, though. It was a stupid thing to say and we were both angry at each other. We’d had arguments before, I thought we’d talk it over in a day or two and then be fine.”

“And then we weren’t,” Draco supplies.

“And then we weren’t,” you repeat listlessly. A moment later, you can’t help but add on somewhat desperately, “Where did we go wrong, Draco? What happened to us?”

Draco’s gaze is bleak and painful. “I don’t know. I’ve tried thinking it over loads of times. I thought you liked me.”

“I did,” you insist. Then, quieter:  “I do.”

He risks a quick glance your way. “Still?”

You don’t dare look at him outright. He’s always been an expert at calling your bluff, anyway. You reckon he doesn’t need to hold your gaze to know when you’re telling the truth. “Always. I never thought you’d leave me, Draco. I didn’t know what to do without you. I tried to move on, but I couldn’t.”

“Neither could I,” he reveals. “Every time I saw some bloke flirting with you, I wanted to hex him. Worst part was, I couldn’t admit to being angry because I wasn’t supposed to be jealous.”

“You were jealous over someone asking me for help on the homework?” You ask, a quiet laugh rising to your lips.

“They weren’t just interested in the homework,” Draco insists, although his irritation starts to fade when you laugh outright.

“Alright, then. Let’s say you did have something to be jealous about. Would that mean that you– that you wanted–”

“It means that I want you, Y/N,” Draco says, quickly stepping in front of you so you’re forced to stop walking and look directly at him. “I want you back. I want us back. What do you say?”

He’s close, so close. He hasn’t been this close since an empty room and a furious argument. This time, though, you’re not unhappy. Far from it.

“I say yes,” you tell him, and the words have hardly left your lips before he leans forward and kisses you.

You’ve had many victories over your time at Hogwarts. You’ve aced exams, you’ve done well in competitions, you’ve won the boy you loved, twice. This kiss feels like the best of them all.

harry potter tag list: @blondsauduun, @with-inked-solace, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @frenchgirlinlondon, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[lynsstrange]

the marauders as color/winter guard performers headcannons

(For the enjoyment of me and the probably one other person on the platform who’s two niche interests somehow overlap)

James:

Section leader during marching season, team captain during winter season

Takes it VERY seriously

Is the reason they have twelve hours of practice a week, but also the reason they score very high

Everyone hates him the second conditioning comes around, constantly yelling at the team (Sirius) to try harder while they’re doing suicides and across the floors at seven in the morning

Rifle prodigy (he cannot stfu about showing off how many rotations he can do)

The overzealous upperclassman that scares off incoming freshmen

Always the one lending money at competitions for food. Also has first aid stuff, electric tape, hand warmers, and just about anything else the team could be in need of packed

Basically Team Mom ™

Mary:

TECHNICALLY co-captain

Her and James are constantly bickering over whether her position is official (“That’s Mary, our FLAG SERGEANT” “WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN”)

She’s much more involved in flag, doesn’t like weapon as much

A good teacher, but brutally honest to anyone she sees as not meeting expectations

Resident playlist-maker, and has dominion over the speaker in the back of the bus

Is constantly critiquing the show design and advocating for aesthetic cohesion (“the rifles would look so much better if the bolts were taped blue, just saying”)

Sirius:

Is good at weapon, more so sabre

Doesn’t like flag as much, but always gets stuck on solos on it because he’s talented

Manages to miss his drill dot EVERY FUCKING TIME by just a little bit and it sends James into rage

Never really knows the counts, but always in time

Manages to look good even in the shittiest of costumes

Trauma dumps and tells wildass stories in the back of the bus on the way back from late night comps

Constant guard terminology sexual innuendo (“Remus, I need you to strip- your silk, Remus, mind out of the gutter 🙄”)

Remus:

He doesn’t know how he got here

Meaning he got dragged into it by Sirius and James

(Mostly James)

Is basically being held hostage because of his skill- that being that he’s a lot stronger than he looks, so he’s good at rifle when he actually tries

Always has some dusty ass beat up novel in his competition duffle (me)

Late to practice or gone often because he has so many other academic commitments lmao

Always covered in bruises from getting whacked by equipment

Competitive only when it comes to Sirius. (Sirius can do a one handed forty five?? Remus can do a DOUBLE one handed forty five)

Lily:

Marching band historian during fall season

Runs the guard’s social media pages

Organizes all team parties

A STICKLER for team traditions, and makes sure they’re continued on each year

Pretty well-rounded, but prefers flag

Like Remus, only truly competitive and spiteful when it comes to James

All the freshmen love her because she’s a good teacher, and she has a special talent of talking just about anyone into auditioning

Always mad about the state of disarray in the guard room

Peter:

Like Remus, isn’t sure how he ended up here

Isn’t really that great at anything, but he tries real hard

Plays trumpet or smth during marching season lmao

And somehow ended up in guard by peer pressure and a crippling fear of being left out

Marlene:

Weapon NERD

And honestly all around guard nerd

Is almost as enthusiastic as James

She even did baton for a short period of time for fun

Is one of those people who can just whip rifle around in that effortless way (you know the type of person I’m talking about)

Constantly coming to James with feedback about choreography, and they’re always either getting along very well or at odds

Definitely on her way to DCI

Resident makeup helper (she can do a mean cat eye, even on a highway in a school bus)

Maybe at some point I’ll do the skittles or other various characters lol but for now I’m imagining just the in-universe Gryffindors/marauders as one team haha

[honestlyboringperson]

This alliance dissolved faster than sugar in hot water. (Persona 5 AU)

Also I know Bigb and Lizzie have similar outfits and themes and Ren is more red than Pearl, who’s codename is literally just another word for “red”. Eh, oh well.

Southlanders

Team B.E.S.T.

The Scottage + Gem

Magic Mountain + Cub

More under the cut!

Lizzie - “Flora” - The Tower Arcana - Carabosse/Persephone

Once the leader of a sorority and with sky-high academics, Lizzie has since fallen from grace after allegations of foul play were revealed. Even if Lizzie didn’t commit such actions, the label stuck and she has since been outcasted from the student body and now spends her days in the shadows, taking care of quite a few stray cats. Despite these setbacks, she still retains her gleam of authority and tries to help lead the phantom thieves, using some of her old connections & IOUs from her days as an honour student. She’s in an active and loving relationship with a certain former delinquent.

Within the metaverse, Lizzie uses Carabosse. Carabosse is more well known as “Maleficent” or the thirteenth fairy from sleeping beauty. As revenge for not being invited to a party, she curses the newborn princess to prick her finger and die, which another fairy changes to simply falling asleep after pricking her finger. I wanted to combine the two aesthetics and themes Lizzie finds herself in; cutesy fairy and supervillain mastermind.

Her Ultimate persona is Persephone. Persephone is the wife of Hades, and queen of the underworld and goddess of spring. Persephone is often equated and conflated with Despoina, who’s real name isn’t revealed to anyone but those who initiate her mysteries. She is noted to be so terrifying, one must never utter her by name out loud unless they want to catch her attention. This is heavily contrasted by the later interpretations of Persephone as a simple spring goddess.

Ren - “King” - The Emperor Arcana - Arthur/Fenrir

Ren is a prodigy actor at a local theatre, with his acting skills being matched by no one in the theatre. He specializes in dramatic characters with flowery speech and theatrical monologues, to the point whenever he’s in the metaverse, he LARPs as an Evil King. He helps hook the Phantom Thieves up with a weapons expert, who for some reason wears a goat mask 24/7. Upbeat and Loud, he and Skizz helps keep morale high in the phantom thieves. He’s very close with Martyn, despite Martyn insisting he’s just using them as pawns. Whether or not this is true or not is yet to be determined.

His persona is Arthur, namely King Arthur. He is a famed king, known for his sword Excalibur and his large entourage of knights. His story lives on through media, be it through simple books to as grand as whole stage plays. He is often portrayed as a well meaning king who defends the land from both human and supernatural threats. Although his legend has changed throughout history, his story is one bedecked by both tragedy and grandeur.

His Ultimate Persona is Fenrir, a key figure in Ragnarok and killer of Odin. A child of Loki, he and his siblings were foretold to bring the end of the universe and in Odin’s attempt to escape this prophecy, he ends up giving them the power and motives needed to enact the tragedy. In Fenrir’s case, he was brought up the wolf in their home where only Tyr had the courage to approach him to give him food, which sparked a friendship between the two. However, due to his rapid growth everyday the gods made three leg cuffs and had Tyr helped trick Fenrir into putting the cuffs on. When he realizes the trick, he bites Tyr’s hand off. In Ragnarok,he breaks free of his chains and swallow Odin whole, killing him.

BigB - “Spectre” - The Temperance Arcana - Winchester/Eshu

A velvet room attendant who is currently abandoning his duties as an Attendant in the first place. Since the new velvet room manifested, he has since been shirking his duties to explore the outside world, never really returning to the Velvet Room. He still speaks in a somewhat strange manner but is polite and charismatic, making him well liked by the people around him. He initially joins the Phantom Thieves to keep Watch of Grian, as he is aware of his true nature, but eventually finds more reasons he desires to stay. He is especially gifted with persuasive speech and helps come up with alibis for the Phantom Thieves whenever they get into shady business. He has an odd habit of exiting rooms through doors that weren’t originally there.

His persona is Winchester, both the person and the mansion. Sarah Winchester was the wife of the inventor of the Winchester rifle. After she was widowed, she was told she would be haunted by those whose lives were stolen by the rifle her husband created. In order to prevent the ghosts from harming her as well as to possibly contact the ghosts of her lost loved ones, she turned her farmhouse into a strange, maze like mansion with doors and windows that lead to nowhere, stairs that end in ceilings, trapdoors, and barred windows.

His Ultimate Persona is Eshu or Èṣù, a Yoruba Orisha who specializes in divination and acts as a messenger between heaven and earth. He was known to have tricked Ifa out of his secrets of divination, and another where he frees Ifa from his imprisonment within a palm tree and casts him as a founder of the Ifa religion.

[eretzyisrael]

by Mark Birbeck

The problem we face runs far deeper than a lack of respect for one important institution. For over 75 years, the Western world recognised the singular evil of the Holocaust and the Nazi’s genocide of the Jews. But in recent years, these historic crimes have been routinely relativised. Indeed, you can see this clearly in the angry responses to the Auschwitz Museum. The museum was bombarded with tweets insisting that Israel’s war with Hamas is actually a ‘genocide’, that Israelis are the new Nazis and that the deaths of civilians in Gaza are somehow comparable to the Shoah.

This Holocaust relativism isn’t just confined to academics, activists or social-media influencers. World leaders are in on the act, too. President Erdoğan of Turkey received warm applause last week for a speech in which he compared Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu to Hitler, and claimed that Israel treats Gazans like the Nazis treated Jews. This week, the South African government lodged an accusation of genocide against Israel in the International Court of Justice (which Israel will challenge).The memory of the Holocaust is not only being downplayed here. It is also being weaponised to attack and delegitimise the world’s only Jewish state.

Encouragingly, after revealing the loss of 7,000 followers, the Auschwitz Museum announced that it had gained 53,000 new followers in a single day. Clearly, there are many decent-minded people out there who still recognise the unique significance of the Holocaust. But there is still a concerning minority who are determined to relativise it, to downplay it and to use ‘Never Again’ as a weapon against Israel. We cannot afford to let this bigotry fester and grow.

[stormgardenscurse]

Pomefiore Dating Headcanons!

Characters: Epel, Vil, Rook

Note: Potentially obscure characterizations, but hope you guys will like them!

Epel

Epel who’s become one of your close friends, and the both of you enjoy being chaotic together (not to an extreme, but at a glance no one would’ve expected it from the Ramshackle prefect and Pomefiore’s apple; you guys have an innocent outlook to hide your mischief, but Rook and Vil know better. As long as you don’t make a fool of yourselves though, they tend to turn a blind eye.)

The thing is that Epel also uses his cuteness against you - looking up at you beneath his lashes while he blinks doefully, holding your hands earnestly between you… just to convince you to sneak out with him to go on a magic-wheel joyride (it’s more fun with two, and his laughter afterwards is even more evident that he knows exactly what he’s doing.)

He doesn’t mind using his looks as a weapon in this case because it’s been long established that you see him as more than his appearance. You support his goals and the image of himself he wants to strive towards, and he’s just as equally unapologetic in returning the favor by buying you snacks when you’re holed up doing work, or other thoughtful gifts when the chance arises.

Sometimes you guys get matching accessories, and when Ace tries to tease that it makes him look cuter, Epel isn’t above leaning his shoulder against you (maybe even going close enough so the sides of your faces are touching) and saying that at least it’s because you’re together. “It’s a sign of how close we are. Right, darling?”

(He doesn’t even use that pet-name outside of making your friends squirm, but if faced with things like these, might as well turn the tables and make them uncomfortable, right?) Epel is also partially doing this to tease you as well, but you can’t say that you’re opposed to how he’s opened up since you first met.

Once you were talking about how cool Epel is when he wasn’t around, just to find out he was standing behind you the entire time; it’s a moment you’ll never live down and still makes him smile (trying not to laugh). 

When Epel recalls the look on your face as he tapped your shoulder hello, your surprise had to be the cutest thing. The both of you can be a little clumsy in expressing your affections verbally, but it’s sweet to know that your mutual admiration is very much real.

Vil

Outside of his poise and powerful aura, Vil’s academic accomplishments aren’t for a lack of personal investment. You’ve gone as far as to call him a chemistry and acting nerd, but while Vil huffs in response and hits your head lightly with his script, he doesn’t seem particularly mad about it. 

In your defense - when you find him hunched over piles of paper for research about either topic (figuring out the perfect dosage for a deadly poison after he couldn’t get the issue out of his head, or dragging you with him so that he can convince you why a particular film is underrated for a reason) - it’s hard to deny that this side of him is cute.

If he gets worked up enough you might see him in glasses and with his hair tied up messily, but it’s not like anyone would believe you when you tell them Vil can be like this at times. He’s smug about that fact too - him, the intimidating dorm leader? The fairest in the land? Surely you jest. There are other ways to get his attention, but if you’re going as far as to imagine him in such an endearing setting, he can’t be too opposed (you’re at your wits end dealing with him).

He genuinely does appreciate the creative ways you come up with to spend time together; surprising him with a movie night which doubles as a genre study for his next role, shopping in between his business meetings, and working together on common dorm-head related tasks.

In return, Vil tries to show that he’s thinking of you by sending gifts your way if he’s too busy to visit in person, but on the odd days that he has nothing to do, he does hide out in Ramshackle (after refurbishment) to just let go of the mask he has to use in public. You tend to study together or catch up during this time, just having tea or letting the tv run as background noise. It’s nothing special, but all things considered it’s a pause in your hectic schedules that you very much welcome. 

He takes this chance to spoil you too, even if his words might involve lighthearted observations of how you dress yourself (it’s accompanied by genuine advice about what he’d do to make your features shine. Not that it’s your homework to follow or anything, he’s just saying whatever comes to mind while he plays with your hair - it’s his own form of doting on you).

Rook

Rook who doesn’t hesitate to compliment you at every turn with poetic words and a happy glimmer in his eyes, getting flustered when you cup his face in your hands and express how endeared you are about him. The softer it is, the warmer your tone, the more Rook suddenly is convinced that you’re an angel that came down from heaven. (And the best part is that you’re real)

Not that there’s a ‘true’ side of him for you to see, but you do get to observe his quieter side more than anyone else (most of whom are used to his flamboyance). When he’s more thoughtful and engrossed in a book or recording of a musical he loves, he’s humming a lot the next day with his usual energy, but only you are aware of just how fond he truly is of all the beauty he’s surrounded with.

Spontaneous getaways are quite common with Rook! Sometimes when he notices you’re bored out of your mind (forcing yourself to sit down and trying to study), he’ll ask if you’d like to go do something else with him. Little do you know though, Rook actually does skim over what topics you’ve been agonizing over with his sharp eyes, and if he can he’ll relay some useful information (teaching you) while you hang out. 

It’s a fun date paired with a bit of walking and enjoying the scenery of the school (he might go offtopic sometimes and tell stories about things he’s seen happen before you arrived in NRC) - yet Rook won’t really outwardly label it as studying or that he’s helping you. 

When you thank him for everything he’s doing (yes you notice how thoughtful he is, and his acts of service are no small feat), Rook just sweeps into a bow and takes your hand to plant a kiss. 

In dramatic terms it’s like a hunter’s vow, but in a more candid light his heart is racing and he’s just so happy to be with you. Rook’s affections are unapologetic, but gentle as much as they are targeted to express his devotion. And at times where he stumbles and acts a little less graceful (hair windblown, clothes askew), the little laugh that escapes you is like magic to his ears. 

P.S: please do attend Neige meet and greets with him, it’ll be your chance to see him super enthusiastic and literally glowing with excitement. If there’s a themed cafe after a movie Neige was the starring role in, even better! You’ll leave with a bunch of merch and many pictures to remember it by (he’d do the same for any interests you have).

[rotzaprachim]

Critical to note that the creator of the IHRA definition of antisemitism drafted it as a framework to track EUROPEAn attitudes toward antisemitism, not as a binding code of what is and isn't antisemitic at the legal and national level. full article (not long and very worthwhile) below:

 This article is more than 4 years old

I drafted the definition of antisemitism. Rightwing Jews are weaponizing it

This article is more than 4 years old

Kenneth Stern

The ‘working definition of antisemitism’ was never intended to silence speech, but that’s what Trump’s executive order accomplished this weekFri 13 Dec 2019 06.25 ESTShare

Fifteen years ago, as the American Jewish Committee’s antisemitism expert, I was the lead drafter of what was then called the “working definition of antisemitism”. It was created primarily so that European data collectors could know what to include and exclude. That way antisemitism could be monitored better over time and across borders.

It was never intended to be a campus hate speech code, but that’s what Donald Trump’s executive order accomplished this week. This order is an attack on academic freedom and free speech, and will harm not only pro-Palestinian advocates, but also Jewish students and faculty, and the academy itself.

The problem isn’t that the executive order affords protection to Jewish students under title VI of the Civil Rights Act. The Department of Education made clear in 2010 that Jews, Sikhs and Muslims (as ethnicities) could complain about intimidation, harassment and discrimination under this provision. I supported this clarification and filed a successful complaint for Jewish high school students when they were bullied, even kicked (there was a “Kick a Jew Day”).

But starting in 2010, rightwing Jewish groups took the “working definition”, which had some examples about Israel (such as holding Jews collectively responsible for the actions of Israel, and denying Jews the right to self-determination), and decided to weaponize it with title VI cases. While some allegations were about acts, mostly they complained about speakers, assigned texts and protests they said violated the definition. All these cases lost, so then these same groups asked the University of California to adopt the definition and apply it to its campuses. When that failed, they asked Congress, and when those efforts stalled, the president.

As proponents of the executive order like the Zionist Organization of America make clear, they see the application of the definition as “cover[ing] many of the anti-Jewish outrages … frequently led by … Students for Justice in Palestine, including … calls for ‘intifada’ [and] demonizing Israel”. As much as I disagree with SJP, it has the right to make “calls”. That’s called free speech.

If you think this isn’t about suppressing political speech, contemplate a parallel. There’s no definition of anti-black racism that has the force of law when evaluating a title VI case. If you were to craft one, would you include opposition to affirmative action? Opposing removal of Confederate statues?

Jared Kushner, the president’s son-in-law and special adviser, wrote in the New York Times that the definition “makes clear [that] Anti-Zionism is antisemitism”. I’m a Zionist. But on a college campus, where the purpose is to explore ideas, anti-Zionists have a right to free expression. I suspect that if Kushner or I had been born into a Palestinian family displaced in 1948, we might have a different view of Zionism, and that need not be because we vilify Jews or think they conspire to harm humanity. Further, there’s a debate inside the Jewish community whether being Jewish requires one to be a Zionist. I don’t know if this question can be resolved, but it should frighten all Jews that the government is essentially defining the answer for us.

The real purpose of the executive order isn’t to tip the scales in a few title VI cases, but rather the chilling effect. ZOA and other groups will hunt political speech with which they disagree, and threaten to bring legal cases. I’m worried administrators will now have a strong motivation to suppress, or at least condemn, political speech for fear of litigation. I’m worried that faculty, who can just as easily teach about Jewish life in 19th-century Poland or about modern Israel, will probably choose the former as safer. I’m worried that pro-Israel Jewish students and groups, who rightly complain when an occasional pro-Israel speaker is heckled, will get the reputation for using instruments of state to suppress their political opponents.

Antisemitism is a real issue, but too often people, both on the political right and political left, give it a pass if a person has the “right” view on Israel. Historically, antisemitism thrives best when leaders stoke the human capacity to define an “us” and a “them”, and where the integrity of democratic institutions and norms (such as free speech) are under assault.

Rather than champion the chilling of expressions that pro-Israel Jews find disturbing, or give the mildest criticism (if any) of a president who repeatedly uses antisemitic tropes, why weren’t those Jewish officials who were present when Trump signed the executive order reminding him that last year, when he demonized immigrants and called them “invaders”, Robert Bowers walked into a Pittsburgh synagogue because he believed Jews were behind this “invasion” of brown people as part of a plot to harm white people, and killed 11 of us?

Kenneth Stern is the director of the Bard Center for the Study of Hate, and the author of the forthcoming The Conflict Over the Conflict: The Israel/Palestine Campus Debate