#there are not enough adjectives to do him justice

[tired-biscuit]

Hear me out- Motorcyclist!Kiba 😩

please don’t do this to me, i have enough kiba brainrot as it is and imagining him being a biker is gonna make me slam my dumb little head against the wall cos like…….. the JACKET AND THE HELMET?? THE GLOVES?? HELLO?????

i actually saw a tiktok where the guy was asking for a girl’s number while he was on the bike, and he was brave but like so adorably nervous at the same time; like you could see it through the helmet and the body language and by the way how his hands were all over over the place and it was so cute!!

anyways, have this little thing i wrote down below!!

fem!reader // cw: none

i can picture him doing that, where you’re both exchanging glances that are not at all secretive while you’re both waiting side by side at a red light. it goes back and forth for a couple of seconds and it’s playful and fun; he’s clearly checking you out whilst you’re doing the same to his figure, since you can’t see his face.

he’s nice on the eyes. his shoulders are broad and he looks jacked as fuck in the black jacket. the pants make his ass look great even if he’s sitting down on the bike. you can see how his clothes tighten in all the right places when he finally gathers enough courage to lean over, applying steady weight to one foot, and gently taps your car window with one gloved hand.

when you roll it down, he flicks the visor of his helmet up, and before you know it, you’re met with these big, gorgeous brown eyes that just look so warm when they finally connect with your own.

the sight makes your lungs tighten. it’s like you’re staring at rich summer honey; words cannot possibly give his irises enough justice no matter how many adjectives you’d pick. if looks could kill and mend at the same time, it’d be this one.

they crinkle at the corners, his eyes. lighten up when you start to become obviously flustered because of the eye contact. he’s smiling underneath the helmet, the bastard.

“hi,” said bastard says, now.

“hi,” you feebly manage back. your throat feels so unbearably tight all of a sudden. must be the nerves, perhaps even the bashfulness. since when are you one to act so skittish?

silence lingers, the light continues to shine red.

goddammit, get it together!

“can i help you?” you ask cheekily, feeling proud and a little bit more like yourself, now that you’ve also initiated something and that it’s no longer just him putting himself out there.

“oh! yeah, umm… shit, i—” your small, and also very sudden, moment of bravery clearly throws him off. he wasn’t expecting it, so he breaks eye contact by blinking and shaking his head, and lets out a noise that reminds you of a boyish snicker. meanwhile, you burst into quiet laughter in response.

it’s completely lighthearted instead of mocking. you hope that he can tell the difference.

“take your time,” you utter whilst tapping your fingers against the steering wheel, the action just a tad bit complacent. jerking your chin forward, you decide to gesture towards the line of cars in front of you as you add, “it’s not like i’m going anywhere any time soon.”

“hah… yeah.” he rubs his hands over his thighs just to do something. “rush hour, am i right?”

“small talk about traffic,” you mumble, quirking a playful brow. “is that really the best you can do?”

“no. god no, i just— ugh…” he’s jittery as hell now as he tries to keep his cool at your teasing, however you’re pleasantly surprised to find out that his voice is still pretty much perfectly steady after he readjusts on the bike, takes a deep breath and says, “look, m’sorry if i’m being too forward with this, but i just couldn’t help but notice how pretty you are, and i… uh, i guess i wanted to ask you for your number. if that’s cool with ya, of course.”

you smile at the way he words it; at the way his eyes flicker all over your face during it. it’s cute, the way he acts. his mannerisms. how big he is. how goddamn corny that entire jumble of a sentence was, that it somehow even managed to end up endearing at the same time.

you have no clue what overcomes you in that exact moment, what coaxes you to keep flirting with this cute stranger who you don’t even know the name of, but all of a sudden you catch yourself saying, “i’ll give you my number if you take me for a ride on your bike.”

he’s visibly baffled by your answer, because now you can see his eyes widen and his pupils dilate as he says, “shit, like right now?”

“not now, dummy.” you laugh, shaking your head whilst you type in your number in your phone’s keypad and turn the screen towards him. “i’m running late for work right now, but… maybe we could arrange something in the future, yeah?”

“yeah. yeah, of course!” he stumbles on his words as he quickly unzips his pocket and pulls his own phone out. you watch him fumble a bit because of the gloves before he manages to snap a picture of your phone’s screen and glances at you again.

you look at each other for a second too long for it to be considered purely platonic right from the beginning, and it makes your heart start to race. for fuck’s sake, you don’t even know what this man’s face looks like, and yet you can already feel a crush developing somewhere deep within.

“well,” you utter. “you have my number now.”

“thanks.” his eyes crinkle at the corners once more. genuine. “you know, to be completely honest with ya, i didn’t think you’d actu—”

a honk that sounds out from a car that’s situated right behind him interrupts him mid-sentence and makes him jump in his seat. the light had turned green, and that makes people get awfully impatient awfully quick, despite the fact that there’s a proper movie scene from a cheesy romcom unfolding before their very eyes. suckers.

you watch as he hastily tucks his phone back into his pocket and slides into position on the motorcycle. the movement is smooth, expert. natural. he’s clearly no rookie.

he revs the engine twice before he casts you one last look and says, “i’ll text you, okay?”

a grin stretches over your lips. “is that a promise?”

you catch the small wink he gives you before he flicks the visor back into place. “make it a pinky one, sweetheart.”

and just like that, before you can even reply or fuss over the sweet pet name, he’s off. you watch him turn smaller and smaller on the road until it’s your cue to drive off as well. damn.

minutes pass as you listen to the radio and sing along to the songs you’re familiar with. by the time you finally arrive to work and start your shift, you’re feeling pleasantly giddy by the entire exchange. even your feet feel lighter with every step. love, if you could call it that, can be a silly thing at times.

that is until a sudden thought crosses your mind.

oh god, what if he’s ugly underneath the helmet?!

#kiba x reader #biscuit drabbles

[ikemenomegas]

Omega!Gojo Satoru x Alpha!Reader

I believe we are fated to do the things we choose anyway*

gege akutami is the kind of mangaka who makes fun of almost all their characters. with utmost affection, gojo deserves to be bullied a bit. we love that he's a little heartless, a little frivolous, that he's powerful as a fact, that he cares a little bit strangely, so doing him a bit of justice, here's the mirror to Getou's youth story

tw: canon character death, spoilers for the manga, gojo's emotional constipation and egotism

Toji Zenin cut so many threads the day he arrived on the Tokyo school grounds, but the one between you and Satoru survived. It's already a miracle that Riko was the only one who died that day. The miracle of surviving should have been enough, but now you've lived long enough to find out how much you could love someone too. You get to see how afraid someone is of loving you. Gojo Satoru had one friend. Gojo Satoru had one mate. That was it, that was all he could let himself have.

Springtime Tokyo is still cold. Not as cold as up north in the mountains, but the winter uniforms are blessedly warm. An assistant manager drops you off at Tokyo Jujutsu Technical School on a milky March morning where you are met by Yaga-sensei, the first year teacher.

This teacher has some kind of idea about building community, which is why he's clustered the four of you first-years in the same building, around a loud blue-eyed boy who barely takes one look at you, squinting around a pair of blackout sunglasses, at your purposeful non-expression, before he is grinning, far too wide and it feels like he gets even louder, movements expansive to pull you into the range of an argument he's having with a tall slim boy with long hair tied at the back of his head.

Yaga-sensei just shakes his head and introduces you to Ieri Shoko, who is physically leaning away from the noise as if to escape some blast radius and has the most distant smile you've ever seen in your life on her face.

It's unsettling is what it is. The dark haired boy is just rolling his eyes at the one who had somehow both dismissed you and pulled you into his orbit. The automatic response is to try and get that attention back, but you have at least a little more self respect than that. You climb the stairs to take a room on the same floor to Shoko-san's and leave them to their snipping. You don't see Gojo fall silent for half a second before carrying on bickering, Yaga now stepping in to separate them.

School hasn't quite started yet. It's a boarding school so everyone is just around, getting the lay of the school, setting up their rooms, exploring Tokyo, running into one another and trying to figure out how their pieces fit together.

Satoru has already sorted you all into neat little piles of adjectives

Polite: the boy with the long dark hair, Getou Suguru, although this doesn't necessarily mean nice he notes gleefully. Self righteous and reactive, as in he can be baited into a no holds barred fight, which is new for him. He hasn't been able to fight someone who could hold their ground for more than a minute since he was thirteen. Subversively irreverent.

Morbid: the shortie with the short hair, Shoko Ieri. She discovered her abilities somewhere and even Satoru has to admit some of the diagrams she pulls up are admirably disgusting. Neutral. Satoru has never met someone else who sticks so close to their own whims before but she isn't like anything he expected, dismissive, meandering, goading. And she can't explain how she does what she does, which is aggravating because he can't do it.

And you, the new one. The last to arrive. Fresh meat. Quiet, wary.

You catch him not following you, but showing up near where you are a little too frequently to feel coincidental while you're making a point to meet the upperclassmen. He adds opportunistic and watchful to the list when he notices you do this, but some of the older students seem to find it vaguely endearing - the clan ones like a small animal they can toss treats, the recruited students who aren't trying to suck up to the clan kids with the cautious familiarity of greeting another outsider.

He tries tossing you a treat, granting you some offhanded attention in the common space of what is now the first years' block. Suguru laughs at him when you mostly look confused and apologetically tell him you've never seen either of the movies he wants to debate before refilling your water bottle and wandering back out onto the school grounds with your umbrella.

School starts regardless with some tentative unspoken agreement between the four of you to try and be friends, or at least classmates. There is after all, no one else to be friends with.

Class is boring, so Satoru watches his classmates. Where Shoko is passive and watchful and Satoru is staring into the air, you're openly attentive and Suguru more casually mirrors your attention. Which makes him want to call you another boring small-town bumpkin

Except you are in the same the advanced mechanics elective he is, and you and Shoko become animated discussing the curse anatomy lectures. Yaga takes you away to practice hand-to-hand with his dolls while he lets Satoru and Suguru pummel each other, which makes him think you must be too fragile to handle the two of them. Most people are, so he doesn't think much on it.

Satoru sometimes goes out alone to train when he can't sleep. He lashes out at the wooden dummies on the practice field, ducking under wooden arms and lashing out to see sections of it spin faster. On one of these nights, a week or two into the first year, he sees you standing outside the track, leaning on a railing, face buried in a thick scarf. He's aware of your vague attention, watching him without any particular interest, like how one might watch water sliding under a bridge, but when he sneaks a glance around the practice dummy, you're just as often more fixated on the sky. The moon is full and you're watching the clouds chase across the deep blue expanse, listening to Gojo Satoru's knuckles impacting on wood. And then at some point, he looks over and you're gone, your weird cursed energy signature fading in the dark.

Satoru only sees your technique the first time a substitute makes you spar with everyone else during training while Yaga is away. Apparently the teacher is someone you know because you get into the first argument he's ever seen before you send a spear flying so fast it hits the center of a target and topples it over.

The same teacher makes you fight Satoru, to already defeated attempts at appalled refusal. He'd usually help you push back just on principle, but he hasn't gotten to go on a mission with you yet and his sometimes oppressive curiosity has settled on whether you actually can keep up with him after all.

You can't, but this is Gojo Satoru at fifteen, not fully realized, and the first time he fights you he amends how he feels about "opportunistic". He flies right at your face and swears he makes contact, but you step back at the last minute and he feels an impending impact from his left that is almost the same strength as his own attack. He tries again and you twist out of the way much faster than he had expected. He tries to throw you and you end up descending slowly to the ground, trying to get the teacher to end the bout. Eventually Satoru overwhelms you and breaks your arm when you try to block too many hits in rapid succession. Shoko fixes it, and you wince with gritted teeth and tears in your eyes but don't cry or sob or glare at him with the kind of face that is calling him names you can't say out loud. The demonstration has him, fortunately or unfortunately, folding you into the energy of your little first year group like you'd been there all along.

He's a shaman clan kid, so it's interesting to see you now as not necessarily opportunistic but curious about the other sorcerers, about other people. What a novelty, to be inconsequentially curious. If he'd been too curious as a child he would be either lectured on responsibility or nearly drowned in related gifts meant to appease his moods

You don't appease his moods and the attention of him, one of the strongest sorcerer of the generation, doesn't appease you.

Satoru tries to bait you and things go right over your head. He tries to disrupt your silent, invisible schedule and you let him drag you away with minimal fussing, especially when Shoko or Suguru is involved, but will wander to the side on outings and either find some accidental trouble or something that makes him a little surprised at the intensity of your focus.

He forces you into a combat-determined wager that demands you stop using honorifics with his name and Suguru's name and Shoko's name (without asking the other two) and there's no way for you to get out of it or win so that forces some artificial closeness that becomes real. Language is very important for creating distance, for creating hierarchy and Satoru somehow isn't interested in a hierarchy between you.

He is however far more self conscious of his omega status than Suguru is. He won't say it, but it's a relief when none of you make a big deal out of it when you find out and also a surprising comfort when you and Shoko who don't have to suffer through the literal additional headache of heats try and make them comfortable

For Satoru this involves distracting him by playing video games with him, watching movies, or tossing balls of paper at him while he tries to stop it with his technique. Mostly he's with Suguru, especially if they sync up, but Satoru doesn't have the same heat symptoms as him. During first year even though he sleeps more than he does as an adult, it's typically less than the rest of you might want. Where Suguru gets tired, Satoru will get cranky and mean because he's bored and feverish and Suguru is too tired to entertain him. His family also was never very comforting during his heats so he knows what to do as far as nesting, but having people around is new for him.

He likes to call and text you if you're on missions during these times, which is typical given his clan's sensitivity to him being around alphas at these times.

So even when you're on campus, you and Shoko only spend a few hours with him at a time. Sometimes you play games and the heat makes him almost slow enough to beat on a DS link game. Sometimes he makes you do his homework. Sometimes he likes to throw throwing things at you to see how you use your technique to deal with it.

He adds "sentimental" to the list of adjectives when he realizes he can so easily pressure you in these times into revealing more of yourself to him than you usually do. He's bored and there's only so many things to talk about before you start telling him about an encounter with one of the rare cats that will tolerate living around the cursed energy of the campus, when you grimace and tell him about a terrible noodle stand in Yamanashi province that you still crave somehow, when you tell him about saving fallen leaves in a heavy dictionary you use for that purpose, or the one time you reveal that you've kept every pair of shoes your parents bought you to wear on the first day of school. You tell him these things and it makes him feel like maybe, someday, he might want to tell you things too.

It's not soft but there's a softness to it. A genuineness in the four of you together, in Satoru's and Suguru's growing strength and self surety. Satoru tries to make himself the center of the world, because it's fact that is where he has been all along. But he's not so easily the center of your world. You didn't come from his world.

Satoru doesn't fall. He doesn't think hard about why it becomes so. He barely thinks about it all. He just knows at some point that you're one of his. You're one of his and he wants you to pay him the attention he' accustomed to as center of the world (except he doesn't maybe. He'll be able to say it one day that what he loved was you treating him like he was as human as he could be)

He's terrible at acknowledging whether this possessiveness is anything in particular. After a sparring session, you watch Shoko patch a cut on Suguru's arm with so much longing and a pang of something worms its way in Satoru's chest. He crowds in next to Suguru before Shoko's done, draping over Suguru's shoulders. You don't see the way Satoru's eyes flicker from Shoko's steady hands to your wide-eyed gaze.

He's jealous the way a child is jealous of a favorite toy, hooking his arm around your neck if any omegas outside of school talk to you in the street. If you brush him off when he's trying to use you as a tool for self-affirmation, he sulks around until you acknowledge him in some other way and he will not admit to a single soul why it matters. When he's forced to go home for holidays like oban and returns in a terrible pique, you may fight with him if he lashes out in the worst, most personal ways. You push back and talk to instead of around him or through him and you also don't realize that is why he backs off.

He realizes slowly that he has to be careful with you. He forgets sometimes that you're more fragile that Suguru, that you need help Shoko doesn't need. On what you call the "worst school trip in existence" and Shoko calls "lucky we didn't all die" and Suguru smiles and calls "well we all made it out in the end", even Satoru got injured, yet he feels invincible, like he caught a bullet and threw it back.

When Toji nearly kills him and everyone he ever cared about, he awakens with the power to keep it from happening ever again. He thinks he can carry the world for all of you, for everyone, reveling in his power. He doesn't realize that his presence, the gravity well he made in the monster class's lives, doesn't exist the same way while he's not there because he has a tendency to think everything will be easy for him to fit back into when he returns, or not to think on the fact things could change at all.

Then Suguru leaves and the center of Satoru's world, his reference point, collapses

You're there in Shinjuku the day it happens. It's getting cold again. You're there to meet Shoko. Suguru has gone missing, Satoru is... away. Again. Still. He's been absent whenever he is around anyway. The jujutsu world doesn't have the resources to devote to hunting curse users in particular so the effort to find Suguru has been halfhearted at best and even if he's on your minds, you have jobs to do still.

You're there in Shinjuku and when you don't find the person you're looking for, you find someone else, It shouldn't happen, but it does. You run into Satoru, mind reeling at Suguru's betrayal. You nearly don't see him and he nearly doesn't see you except he sees everything and he's been walking around the district like a ghost.

He appears like a ghost too, tall and pale and ridiculous eyes. You'd tried to see if the world reflected in them once, but now it's more obvious to you than ever that it's just him, nothing more and nothing less.

"Let's go back," he says, and for the first time in months, you return to the college, side by side on the train, feeling like there should be more people in the near-empty car. You get as far as you can before you get to a station that's closed where you can no longer transfer and then you get out and walk in silence.

You walk like there's another person jostling for space between you. When you get to the school, Shoko meets you at the red tori gates. When you get to the mostly empty dormitory building, now a little emptier, Satoru looks at you. And looks and looks and looks. This time, he feels like you might disappear in the pre-dawn light casting your faces in blue.

Maybe it's because he's already lost one precious thing long before he noticed it was gone that he grips your shoulders tight, so tight you almost wince, but turn into it instead, tilting your head as though, were you less careful people, you might brush your cheek against his hand. Just for a little bit of comfort, for a little familiarity.

Then Shoko makes a noise at the top of the stairs, the scuff of her foot, the tap of her palm on the banister. What a terrible day it must be if Shoko is interfering. And you step away.

Satoru doesn't go to bed. For the first time in his life he feels like he doesn't know who he is. He watches your light come on and then go off. He doesn't see you stand at the mouth of the hall leading to Suguru's room with a blanket around your shoulders until eventually you turn away and fall asleep on one of the common room couches, near to where a year of his body in the same spot had left an indent. He doesn't think about the world where you aren't here, where he never sees you again, because he can't quite fathom it.

Because even when he was gone, he never felt like he had let any of you go

It makes him feel sick to his stomach, the closeness of someone else, but it feels worse to push you away so you sit shoulder to shoulder with him some time in the morning. He pretends not to see the new dark shadows in your eyes. You sit and watch the mist burn off and pretend his warmth can hide how the world is a little colder.

*I didn't fall in love with you. I walked into love with you, with my eyes wide open, choosing to take every step along the way. I do believe in fate and destiny, but I also believe we are only fated to do the things that we'd choose anyway. And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you ― Kiersten White, The Chaos of Stars

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #omegaverse #alpha!reader #omega!gojo #reader insert #gn #i'm sorry this is so much longer than the getou one #I changed styles to write something else and couldn't get back to the broad strokes style of the getou bit #i want to expand on both #this show is really good and the potential here is too much to resist #the quote came to mind because the six eyes user has a specific kind of fate #but the idea of fate has a lot of interesting discussion around it in between religions #jjk plays a lot with buddhist/shinto/christian imagery including the idea of a fate thread tangled between certain power centers #i was raised in a christian centered culture which has certain beliefs about predetermination that can get incredibly depressing. #fate is generally defined as a predetermined and inescapable path of action or consequences #you can't escape it no matter what choices you make #which seems glum #karma on the other hand has something more to do with tendencies - the things you do to yourself/by yourself that lead to consequence #karma is separate from fate. even if you escape the cycle of karma or samsara you cannot escape fate #little interaction with fate are common - seeking explanations of future fortune or charms to pull you in the direction you want to go #ultimately there is a tension between the human ability to act at will (karma/free will) and fate #How do you justify acting if everything is predetermined? one can trap themselves in ontologic questions about purpose and actions #there is an inevitably and circular in accepting that maybe we can't escape fate but that fate also can't escape us #our actions were always going to matter #io.omegas

[cassthecringe]

Do you have any headcanons about how Hierophant got his name? Green is a bit self-explanatory, but what about Hierophant? It's a bit of a strange name to pick for a Japanese kid/teenager.

I'M SOOO GLAD YOU ASKED ME THIS CAUSE I HAVE A VERY SPECIFIC HEADCANON ABOUT THIS IN PARTICULAR

to put it short, i think enyaba named hierophant (she didn't add the green though, that was kakyoin)

to put it long: i think growing up kakyoin only really referred to hierophant as "my friend"/didn't really have a name for him cause i don't think kakyoin really talked about hierophant once he was like 5 or 6 and realized no one can see him

but then dio happens and he gets fleshbudded. i think, since he goes back to the mansion enough times that d'arby the younger knows kakyoin, that kakyoin must have also interacted with enyaba too while there. since enyaba also has ties to tarot, having named her own stand justice, j geil's hanged man, and dio's the world, i think it was a simple matter of her just placing the hierophant onto kakyoin. i don't think kakyoin got to choose a card like jotaro did with avdol, i think enyaba chose for him. based on the fact enyaba doesn't give herself or her son or even dio a specific adjective though, i don't think she gave kakyoin one either. which means, while kakyoin didn't get to directly choose hierophant, he DID get to directly choose green. hehe.

#cass cries #hierophant green #sureee #jjba #kakyoin noriaki #noriaki kakyoin

[violet-shadows]

Delectable (Part Two)

ACOTAR Writing Circle Masterlist | My Masterlist

Part One by @hlizr50 | Part Two | Part Three by TBA 

Summary: “Gwyn meets a tall, snarky, unfairly gorgeous man working in a bakery. The owner seems possessive of him, but his sights are set firmly on the sassy redhead who won’t even tell him her name.” -@hlizr50

Word Count: 2.8k

Pairing: Azriel x Gwyn

Warnings: non-graphic discussion of murder and sexual assault

A/N: This fic is part of @azrielshadowssing ‘s ACOTAR Writing Circle and a continuation of the amazing @hlizr50 ’s fic, Delectable (Part One). I really hope I did the second part justice and can’t wait to see what the next writer adds for the final installment. 

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

To her credit, Gwyn didn’t start freaking out until Friday. True to his word, Azriel reached out when he got home from work and the pair agreed to meet in two days’ time. When Gwyn made the plans, she was practically giddy, her earlier nerves momentarily forgotten at the prospect of going on a date, and perhaps going even further, with such a handsome man. Though her initial impression of Azriel had been negative, she had to admit that he was quite charming. The two had texted daily as the week progressed, but Gwyn was relieved to find that Azriel wasn’t the type to blow up her phone with constant chatter. When he did text, however, she found herself rushing to check the message, an involuntary smile on her lips. Her coworker and closest friend, Emerie, had noticed almost immediately, delighting at the way her cheeks heated when she teased the redhead.

The two discussed her upcoming date at length during their shift at the bookshop, giggling like schoolgirls as they went. For Gwyn, the feeling of walking through aisles of books, feeling carefree and excited about the future, was reminiscent of better times.

Years ago, in what almost felt like another life, she worked a part-time job in the university library while she went to school. The plan, then, had been to get a degree in English literature before going on to a graduate program for library science. She even had interviews lined up for the spring, graduation less than a year away. Then her sister died, and her world imploded. Gwyn’s world stopped the moment Catrin’s did, a part of her dying in that alley where her sister bled out and her body was violated. At first, her friends from school were there for her, bringing her meals and sitting with her in her grief. Slowly, though, the world got back to spinning, the check-ins dwindled, and Gwyn had never been more alone. The job at the bookstore came out of necessity, both to pay the bills and keep herself from withering away in her apartment. Emrie’s cousin owned the place, but he was rarely around, so it was typically just her, Gwyn, and another part-timer in the shop. She’d been instrumental in Gwyn’s journey to piecing herself back together after the horrors of that night, so it made sense Emerie would be the first to learn about the date.

“What are you going to wear?” Emerie asked on Thursday as the pair worked to sort through a new shipment. Until that moment, Gwyn had largely avoided the topic of her impending date. She knew herself enough, and had done enough therapy, to know that she had a tendency to obsess over things that made her nervous. The spiral of anxiety could only be delayed, though, and Emerie’s mention of the date was the fuel to the fire. Instead of answering her friend, Gwynn began chewing at her cuticles.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go…”, she mumbled, only to startle when a stray paperback came soaring towards her head. “Hey!”

“Don’t bullshit me. You want to go. You even told me you wanted to start dating again. Don’t psych yourself out.” That was one of the things Gwyn liked about Emerie, she didn’t sugarcoat things. It reminded her of Catrin.

“I do want to go. But, Em. If you saw this guy you would get it. He’s like…”, Gwyn struggled to come up with an adjective sufficient to describe Azriel.

“’Sex on legs,’ was the term you used, I believe.” Gwyn’s first mention of her date had come over FaceTime several wine glasses in, and with liquid courage in her veins, Gwyn had provided a very detailed description of the man. “So what are you worried about? You’re hot too. I would know.”

Gwyn rolled her eyes, lightly tossing the book back towards her friend. “I guess it just… feels new,” she said. “It’s been so long that I don’t even remember what it’s supposed to be like.”

“Are you talking about dating or fucking?” Emerie asked, blunt as ever.

“Both, though I’m more nervous about the second part,” Gwyn admitted. “I should tell him before we do anything. Right?” She sounded unsure. Her therapist had encouraged her to tell her potential partners about her past. The last thing she wanted was to find herself triggered and have to explain things mid-panic attack. Gwyn had come a long way from not being able to talk about what happened at all, but the prospect of sharing that part of her with someone she just met was daunting.

“You should, but that doesn’t have to be tomorrow night,” Emerie said, her voice softening. “If he pressures you in any way, I’ll show up, get you out, and kick his ass, okay?” Gwyn had previously declined Emerie’s offer to hide in a bush as backup during the date. The two were meeting at a small Italian restaurant near the river that was highly public, and although Gwyn had anticipated being nervous about being alone with a man again, she was surprised to find that Azriel himself was the least of her worries.

“I don’t think he’s like that, but be on standby.” Gwyn was only half joking. “I do want to… though. I just have to get through the awkward bit first.” She wanted Azriel since the moment she saw him, his muscular body and chiseled features the subject of many a filthy daydream over the past few days. Just as much as she wanted him, though, she wanted him to want her. The prospect of laying her most vulnerable self out before him and risking rejection was frightening.

“You can do this, Gwyn,” Emerie said softly, reaching over to squeeze her friend’s hand. “Anyway, I ask again: what are you going to wear?”

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

In the end, Gwyn settled on a cobalt blue dress that complimented her fiery hair. It was fancy enough for the restaurant, but she could tone it down with her jacket if she felt overdressed. She left work a little early that afternoon, rushing home to fret over her hair and makeup while the hours ticked on. An hour before she was set to meet him, Azriel texted her.

Azriel (6:03 pm): Can’t wait to see you tonight, beautiful.

The message had her cheeks heating, a grin creeping onto her face. If Catrin were there, the two would have squealed over the message while they worked together to formulate a reply. Instead, Gwyn typed out her text alone, trying her best not to feel sad while channeling the fierce confidence of her lost twin.

Gwyn (6:05 pm): I’m looking forward to it, handsome.

She cringed after she sent it and busied herself with getting ready, resisting the urge to stare at the screen awaiting his reply. When she checked her phone half an hour later as she prepared to leave the house, she was disappointed to see that her date had not responded. She tried to push down her anxieties on the way to the restaurant, reasoning that he wouldn’t have sent a text like that if he planned to ghost her.

Gwyn (6:58 pm): I’m here, heading inside now. :)

By 7:07, a pit had formed in Gwyn’s stomach. Azriel hadn’t responded in over an hour and she was beginning to think this was some sick idea of a joke. She was standing in the restaurant lounge, typing out a text to Emerie soliciting her opinion on how long she should wait before giving up when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

Gwyn wouldn’t have thought it possible for Azriel to get hotter, but standing before her, dressed in pressed, navy button-up and exceedingly well-fitting pants, he was decidedly at peak attractiveness. Fortunately, he didn’t wait for her to gather her thoughts before speaking. “I’m so, so sorry I’m late. Elain found out I was going on a date and tried to keep me late at work,” he ran a hand through his silken hair and Gwyn realized he was slightly out of breath. “I hope I can make up for it.”

Something about the sincerity in the apology had Gwyn’s walls coming down in an instant. “Hmmm… seven minutes late. That might be unforgivable,” she teased.

“I feared as much,” Azriel flashed a perfect smile then raised the bag in his hand, a familiar pink logo stamped on the side. “Does this sway you at all?”

“Mini-turtle cheesecakes?” She asked hopefully.

“And some more brownies,” he said. “Sorry about the lack of milk.”

“I’ll manage,” she grinned. The hostess returned then and Azriel gave her his name, confirming that he had, in fact, made reservations.

“For the record, I was going to bring you flowers, too.” He said after they were seated. In the dim restaurant lighting, Gwyn could swear she saw him blush at the admission. “But I didn’t want to be even later. I really am sorry about that.”

“I’ll let it slide this once,” she said, smirking. “I take it Elain wasn’t a fan of your plans for the evening?”

He cringed and nodded. “She gets hung up sometimes, on the idea of us as a pair. Especially when she and Lucien are on a break.” Gwyn raised an eyebrow and he answered her unspoken question. “Her on-again-off-again-on-again boyfriend.”

“But there isn’t anything there?” Gwyn shifted, suddenly insecure as they discussed the gorgeous blonde.

“No!” Azriel rushed to say. “No, really. We almost dated once but that’s it.”

“You said she’s basically your sister-in-law?”

“Yes, sort of. Her sister, Feyre is married to my foster brother, Rhys.” He explained. “I offered to help with the bakery as a favor to them. Feyre and their other sister are partners in the business, but Feyre just had their first baby, so she’s taking time off before jumping into the business.”

“That was kind of you, to step in.” He shrugged.

“That’s what family is for, I guess.” Gwyn’s heart squeezed and she held her breath, knowing the question was coming. “So what about you? Do you have any siblings?”

“I had a twin,” she tried not to flinch when she said that word: had. “Just me now, though. So what do you do for work when you’re not prancing around in that cute little apron.” Azriel picked up on her discomfort and followed the subject change seamlessly, laughing at her joke.

“I work in private security,” he said. “My brothers and I are business partners.”

“Private security as in the guys at the mall…” Gwyn trailed off. It was hard to picture Azriel in a rent-a-cop outfit telling off shoplifters, but she had already seen the man in a pink apron.

“Nah, executive protection mostly. That and some private investigation and estate security,” he said casually.

“Like a bodyguard?” Something about the mental image that conjured was quite befitting of the man. 

“Yes, although we don’t typically work with celebrity clients… It’s not as interesting as it might sound.” He seemed genuine, but Gwyn’s job at the bookstore suddenly seemed quite boring in comparison. It was during moments like this that she couldn’t help but compare her current life to the one she planned on. Gwyn from before would have had her master’s degree by now, maybe even be a doctoral candidate. “So what do you do, Gwyn? When you’re not harassing unsuspecting bakery workers, of course.”

Something about the way he leaned in to listen to her, like she was about to tell the most interesting story in the world, had the knot in her stomach unraveling. Before she knew it, Gwyn was regaling Azriel with tales from her work and he was sharing his own stories in kind, the first date awkwardness fully dissipating. Talking to Azriel was surprisingly easy once she got past her nerves, and she was relieved to find that, underneath his beauty, there appeared to be a significant amount of substance. By the time the waitress returned with their check, gently letting them know closing time was approaching, Gwyn had completely forgotten her initial worries. 

When the check arrived, she reached into her purse to fish out her wallet, figuring at least offering to pay was the polite thing. Azriel waved her off in an instant though. “Absolutely not,” he pulled out his own wallet, sliding a shiny black card into the check presenter. 

In a moment of bravery, Gwyn replied, “I’ll get the next one, then?” She held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t grimace at her suggestion of another date. Azriel grinned, white teeth flashing against his tan skin, but shook his head.

“Nope, next one’s on me too. I have to make up for being late, after all.” Gwyn felt her cheeks heat and she returned his smile. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” she replied.

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

After the date, Azriel walked her to her car, one hand hovering politely over her mid back as they crossed the busy roadway to the parking lot. “I had a great time tonight,” Gwyn said, trying not to cringe at the cliche. 

“So did I,” Azriel replied, stepping forward until they were just inches apart. His voice was like velvet, and the feeling of his breath against her skin as their faces inched closer sent a shiver down her spine, “May I?”

She answered his questions by leaning forward, pressing her lips to his. The kiss wasn’t short, but certainly not chaste, and when she pulled away she could hear her heart hammering in her ears. “Text me when you get home safely, okay?” 

She nodded, blushing further when he leaned down to place a quick kiss on her forehead. “See you soon, Gwyn.”

“See you soon, Azriel.” 

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

Three weeks and five dates later, Gwyn was pretty sure she was in love. Which was stupid, she knew, since she really had just met the guy. In the past, Gwyn was practical about relationships, slow to commit, and wary of the honeymoon phase. With Azriel, though, her logical mind went out the window. Instead, the redhead found herself craving the man’s presence, her heart aflutter in anticipation of their next meeting. Soon, instead of dreading taking the “next step”, Gwyn was stopping herself from inviting him to her apartment each time they parted. After all, he was, in addition to charming, unbelievably hot. 

Ultimately, it was Azriel that made the first move for her, inviting him to his apartment so he could cook her dinner. Just dinner, he had assured her, no expectations. His apartment, like his car, was sleek, dark, and surprisingly well-appointed. Azriel greeted her with a warm smile, taking her coat and the bottle of wine she brought along before returning to the kitchen, a dish towel slung over his shoulder.

“I didn’t know bodyguards could cook,” she teased, taking a seat at the island where he pulled out a chair for her. 

“Did you forget already? I’m a baker, Gwyn. Of course, I can cook,” he reached for some cooking wine, adding it to a saucepan with dramatic flair, making Gwyn giggle. “Speaking of which, I brought your favorite.” He opened the fridge and presented a striped pink box embossed with his temporary employer’s logo. 

“I knew I liked you.” This time, it was Azriel’s turn to blush. “It will be a shame when you go back to your normal work. I imagine it doesn’t come with quite as many perks.” 

“Feyre will be back at work by then. I’m sure I can get her to sneak us some of the goods.” He said, “that is if Elain doesn’t kill me when I finally introduce you to everyone.” Gwyn’s heart could have stopped right then and there. Introduce her, to everyone, to his family. That was something you did when you liked someone. A lot. “I’m sorry, that was presumptuous.” 

Gwyn rushed to interrupt him, “No! I’d love to! Meet your family, I mean.” 

“Good,” he said, seeming relieved. “They can be a bit… much. But I think you’ll like them.” They spent the remainder of his cooking and the bulk of dinner discussing each of his unique family members. Azriel had grown up in foster care and he and his brother Cassian were taken in by Rhysand’s family when they were kids. Since then, the group seemed to have a propensity for acquiring strays, forming a chaotic makeshift family. As he talked about his brothers, Gwyn’s heart squeezed, thoughts of Catrin, of the life they should still have together, distracting her from the conversation.

“Gwyn?” Azriel’s voice drew her from her thoughts. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she swallowed the lump in her throat, feigning a smile.

“What happened to your sister?” She knew the question would come eventually, she had even practiced how she would tell him the story, but it didn’t stop her throat from constricting as she began. 

“She was murdered.”

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

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#gwynriel #acotarwritingcircle #gwyn #azriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #gwynriel fanfiction #acotar fanfiction

[agoldentattoos]

☆ –– (victoria justice, she/her, cis woman) who is shai soto anyways? ew. you don’t know about her, we’ll bet you want to. they’re feeling twenty nine and playing electric guitar feels like a perfect night to them. rumor has it they’re defensive and avoidant because they care, but they’re also observant and hopeful in the best way. she works to make a little money as a dance instructor at rose blush. they’ve rented a place on cornelia street in the form of woodvale apartments. "dress" muse a is the song they could dance to the beat of forevermore. 

hellooooooo. i'm megan. j'adore romanticizing the mundane a la taylor so i'm up for all the threads. i'll reply to starters later and maybe even post one of my own, who knows? i also wouldn't mind some threads based on holidays (st patricks day, easter... feels like there have been at least three holidays this past month) and the weather (it's currently chilly in nyc from what i gather and it's supposed to rain this week). lowkey suck at plotting but please throw some at me if there are any you've been looking for!

tw: mention of alcoholism, self esteem issues

basically, shai (pronounced 'shy' but often mispronounced as 'shay') is here for a good time, not a long time, more so in a sasha-from-life-partners unprepared way than in a reckless effy stonem way. she grew up in a dysfunctional home with an alcoholic mother. though her father tried, him fighting with her mother about it didn't make anything easier for shai. the chaos and the unpredictability made her become a people pleaser. to paraphrase the loml lucy hale, she didn't feel good enough, smart enough, cool enough, etc so she thought being the 'nicest' (i.e. a pushover) would make people like her. she couldn't be the most (insert any adjective here), but she could be the most agreeable.

she dreamed of getting out of her hometown but stayed, went to community college, and worked at a hotel. if high school was a negative experience for her, college only amplified that feeling of not being good enough. the pressure led to her dropping out. she continued working at the hotel while trying to come up with another plan. eventually, she took the plunge of transferring to another location. that led to her moving from place to place, subsisting on seasonal jobs at tourist hotspots.

she saw a lot of beautiful places, but had dreamt of moving to a metropolis for ages. she set her sights on new york, once again working in a hotel. she eventually quit that to take up a job with more flexible hours (waitressing) so she could pursue acting. she considers herself a failed broadway actress, not that she had much of a career to begin with. she quietly 'retired' from that path after an opportunity arose to teach dance for a living. she's been doing that for two or three years now. at first, she loved it and felt herself coming into her own. her anxieties about being liked lessened and she felt freer to be herself. not having to plaster a smile on her face for customers or put up with their shit or have an unpredictable schedule had given her a better work/life balance. however, that rosy sheen is starting to wear off. she realized it's not what she wants to do for the rest of her life, but she doesn't have another plan.

#cornelia.intro

[primewritessmut]

Sometimes I write scenes that just won’t fit into the fic I’m writing for whatever reason but are too good not to share. (Although, if there’s any justice in the universe, I’ll be able to shoehorn it in. 🤞🏻🤞🏻)

Peter wants to cry. Just curl up into a ball and sob until it stops hurting.

Because it does fucking hurt; the pain radiating up his neck and into his skull, making his whole left side feel like it’s sloughing off his body. His arm hangs limp at his side and he knows better than to try moving it but he does it anyway, muffling the scream that tries to sneak out by biting his tongue hard enough to taste blood.

He slouches against the wall at his back and then shoots upright again when that causes another explosion of pain to detonate in his shoulder.

“I suppose it’s too much to hope that you’re leaning all sexy like against that wall hoping that I’ll fuck you into it.”

“Go away,” Peter groans.

He’s closed his eyes at some point so he doesn’t see Wade in front of him but he hears him. Feels him.

“Oh, Petey Pie. You don’t really mean that, do you?”

Wade’s voice is edging closer and Peter snuffs out the desire to lean closer, crawl into Wade’s arms, let the other man take care of him.

“Don’t call me that,” Peter grits out. “And I do mean it.”

A big hand lands on Peter’s hip and the warmth of Wade’s body radiates against the hot well of pain inside Peter’s shoulder.

“I don’t think you do, sweets.” Wade’s voice is so close, right next to Peter’s ear, and dropped into that growly register that makes Peter ache. “Because if you meant it, you wouldn’t be able to listen to me tell you what an incredible fight that was. Or how hot it is when you get all bendy while taking out the bad guy.”

A shiver works down Peter’s spine but then he tenses up as it sends tendrils of pain flaring through him. He grits his teeth again, thinking about all the vitriol he’s going to spew at Wade as soon as his brain isn’t addled by a dislocated shoulder and Wade’s sex voice in his ear.

“Keep talking,” Peter grumbles.

He feels Wade’s hand cover his own, palm curving over the back of Peter’s hand, threading their fingers together. Wade’s jaw is lined up with Peter’s and that lust-drenched growl slides right into his ear.

“Such a gorgeous, clever, strong, flexible, perfect, baby boy.”

Each adjective is followed by the press of Wade’s lips against Peter’s temple and the squeeze of Wade’s fingers against his own. Each word causes Peter to relax further and further into the web of praise that Wade is spinning. Until the last word which is met with the searing pop of Wade twisting Peter’s shoulder back into its socket.

“Fuck you, Wade,” Peter snarls, yanking his body backward while shoving Wade away with his opposite arm.

Wade has the audacity to laugh. “You know I’m always up for it, Websy. But you should probably rest that shoulder.”

#spideypool #fanfic #deadpool #spideypool fanfic #wade wilson #peter parker #spider man/deadpool #spider man

[rivalisteaser]

                                        𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐀 𝐈𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐀 𝐄𝐒𝐓

mu·tant /ˈmyo͞otnt/

adjective

resulting from or showing the effect of mutation.

In 1951, the first mutant was born. The child, given the name of Hollis Navarro, could turn anyone into stone with a touch. It started with their babysitter, and would continue with many of the scientists that ‘took care’ of them in their adolescence. The second mutant, followed shortly after in 1956, but they were not discovered. Thus, they were spared the physical experimentation, emotional neglect, and psychological abuse. This child, Harold Knox, was the son of two wealthy British socialites, and was raised with all the privileges one could ask for. No one knew that he could manipulate dark matter, and he was smart enough to keep it secret. These two mutant would be the start of a new era. They would change everything.

oc·u·lus /ˈäkyələs/

noun

a round or eye-like opening or design.

Thirty-four years later, Harold Knox would reveal to the world that he would be stepping down from his role as the CEO of Spectacle, the most popular eyeglass retailer in the world. But the more exciting news that day was that he was not human. In a display that made global news, Harold showed the world his ability to create dark matter, and extinguish it like a flame in his palm. He called out to the mutants of the world, asking them to come to him for aid in controlling their abilities and promised their safety. Many marked it off as a trick, but there were a few that saw this broadcast, and knew immediately the display of power was real. Harold was contacted by one other adult mutant and eight concerned parents. He offered them a deal: he would raise the children as his own and guarantee their safety. But only under the condition that the parents could never see their child again. That day, The Oculus Academy was formed and would raise the first generation of mutant superheroes.

e·nig·ma /iˈniɡmə/

noun

a person or thing that is mysterious, puzzling, or difficult to understand.

Hollis Navarro had a different approach to finding community with other superhuman beings. It began with a fellow mutant at the lab. This one could sniff our mutants like a bloodhound but was sick of being used a government tool. The two escaped the lab together and burned it to the ground. They set out to find others like them and managed to locate seven, most of them young children abandoned at orphanages or foster homes. Hollis offered the children a home and a family. Ten years later, a new organization appeared on the streets of New York City: The Enigmas. They were a collection of young mutant vigilantes with brutal methods but altruistic ideals. No one knew who they were or where they came from, but it was clear they were attempting to do good.

ri·val/ˈrīvəl/

noun

a person or thing competing with another for the same objective or for superiority in the same field of activity.

The Oculus Academy were the darlings of the world, a perfect shining example of heroes that showed their faces, shook hands with government leaders, and saved kittens from trees. On the other hand, The Enigmas were a source of a constant scandal. People wondered who they were, wondered where their money came from, and wondered how the police could keep letting them get away with murder. They were judge, jury, and executioner, and no one was exempt from their justice, not even U.S. senators. Naturally, the world pondered if The Oculus Academy and The Enigmas would ever go toe to toe. They were fighting for the same causes: peace and equality. But neither was shy about their disdain for the other group, and spoke out against the other’s approach to attaining a more lawful society. The two were pitted as rivals and this rivalry would not die, even as the groups grew up, split apart, and faded in obscurity.

rup·ture /ˈrəpCHər/  

noun

an instance of breaking or bursting suddenly and completely.

a breach of a harmonious relationship.

Two weeks ago, ten years after the height of the mutants’ fame, Harold Knox died. The father of The Oculus Academy was gone before any of his children could say goodbye. A heart attack took him in the dead of night and his body was found in the hallway of the academy by his eldest student. The funeral is this weekend, and the leader of The Enigmas has stated that they and the rest of their team will be in attendance to pay their respects. However, the living members of The Oculus Academy may not be so happy to see their former rivals at such an event. The world waits with baited breath to see the two teams meet in person for the first time.

RIVALISHQ is a 21+ skeleton rp inspired by X-Men, The Umbrella Academy, and Romeo & Juliet. It follows two rival superhero groups as they contend with the falsehoods they accepted as children, mourn the loss of a leader, embrace adulthood, and meet a foe unlike any that they’ve faced before. This rp will feature frequent plot drops, events, and tasks and will be very plot and writing heavy. 

For a chance to gain early access to the main (including the masterlist of skeletons) and choose which skeleton is posted first REBLOG this post. For more news about the development and calendar of this rp FOLLOW this teaser blog! 

                 MAIN WILL BE RELEASED OCTOBER 10TH! 

#skeleton rp #lsrp #lsrpg #superhero rp #mutant rp #death tw #abuse tw

[rivalishq]

                                        𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐀 𝐈𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐀 𝐄𝐒𝐓

mu·tant /ˈmyo͞otnt/

adjective

resulting from or showing the effect of mutation.

In 1951, the first mutant was born. The child, given the name of Hollis Navarro, could turn anyone into stone with a touch. It started with their babysitter, and would continue with many of the scientists that ‘took care’ of them in their adolescence. The second mutant, followed shortly after in 1956, but they were not discovered. Thus, they were spared the physical experimentation, emotional neglect, and psychological abuse. This child, Harold Knox, was the son of two wealthy British socialites, and was raised with all the privileges one could ask for. No one knew that he could manipulate dark matter, and he was smart enough to keep it secret. These two mutant would be the start of a new era. They would change everything.

oc·u·lus /ˈäkyələs/

noun

a round or eye-like opening or design.

Thirty-four years later, Harold Knox would reveal to the world that he would be stepping down from his role as the CEO of Spectacle, the most popular eyeglass retailer in the world. But the more exciting news that day was that he was not human. In a display that made global news, Harold showed the world his ability to create dark matter, and extinguish it like a flame in his palm. He called out to the mutants of the world, asking them to come to him for aid in controlling their abilities and promised their safety. Many marked it off as a trick, but there were a few that saw this broadcast, and knew immediately the display of power was real. Harold was contacted by one other adult mutant and eight concerned parents. He offered them a deal: he would raise the children as his own and guarantee their safety. But only under the condition that the parents could never see their child again. That day, The Oculus Academy was formed and would raise the first generation of mutant superheroes.

e·nig·ma /iˈniɡmə/

noun

a person or thing that is mysterious, puzzling, or difficult to understand.

Hollis Navarro had a different approach to finding community with other superhuman beings. It began with a fellow mutant at the lab. This one could sniff our mutants like a bloodhound but was sick of being used a government tool. The two escaped the lab together and burned it to the ground. They set out to find others like them and managed to locate seven, most of them young children abandoned at orphanages or foster homes. Hollis offered the children a home and a family. Ten years later, a new organization appeared on the streets of New York City: The Enigmas. They were a collection of young mutant vigilantes with brutal methods but altruistic ideals. No one knew who they were or where they came from, but it was clear they were attempting to do good.

ri·val/ˈrīvəl/

noun

a person or thing competing with another for the same objective or for superiority in the same field of activity.

The Oculus Academy were the darlings of the world, a perfect shining example of heroes that showed their faces, shook hands with government leaders, and saved kittens from trees. On the other hand, The Enigmas were a source of a constant scandal. People wondered who they were, wondered where their money came from, and wondered how the police could keep letting them get away with murder. They were judge, jury, and executioner, and no one was exempt from their justice, not even U.S. senators. Naturally, the world pondered if The Oculus Academy and The Enigmas would ever go toe to toe. They were fighting for the same causes: peace and equality. But neither was shy about their disdain for the other group, and spoke out against the other’s approach to attaining a more lawful society. The two were pitted as rivals and this rivalry would not die, even as the groups grew up, split apart, and faded in obscurity.

rup·ture /ˈrəpCHər/  

noun

an instance of breaking or bursting suddenly and completely.

a breach of a harmonious relationship.

Two weeks ago, ten years after the height of the mutants’ fame, Harold Knox died. The father of The Oculus Academy was gone before any of his children could say goodbye. A heart attack took him in the dead of night and his body was found in the hallway of the academy by his eldest student. The funeral is this weekend, and the leader of The Enigmas has stated that they and the rest of their team will be in attendance to pay their respects. However, the living members of The Oculus Academy may not be so happy to see their former rivals at such an event. The world waits with baited breath to see the two teams meet in person for the first time.

RIVALISHQ is a 21+ skeleton rp inspired by X-Men, The Umbrella Academy, and Romeo & Juliet. It follows two rival superhero groups as they contend with the falsehoods they accepted as children, mourn the loss of a leader, embrace adulthood, and meet a foe unlike any that they’ve faced before. This rp will feature frequent plot drops, events, and tasks and will be very plot and writing heavy. 

For a chance to gain early access to the main (including the masterlist of skeletons) and choose which skeleton is posted first REBLOG this post. For more news about the development and calendar of this rp FOLLOW this teaser blog! 

                                          COMING SOON! 

[ear-worthy]

Truer Crime Podcast Season Two: When True Just Isn't Good Enough

If there is one genre that defines podcasting, it's true crime. The fascination with true crime is not restricted to podcasting. TV shows proliferate with true-crime motifs, from long-running shows like Forensic Files and Dateline to more recent shows like Crime Scene Confidential and Murder In My House. 

When a genre inundates a medium like podcasting, more intense adjectives are needed. For example, a comedy show is no longer just funny, it's funnier or the funniest. 

We've now reached that point in true crime. There's a show called Truer Crime. Essentially, we've up the ante on true crime.  

The good news here is that Truer Crime is a podcast worthy of its -er extension. Truer Crime has just been purchased by growing Atlanta-based podcast network, Tenderfoot TV.

Tenderfoot TV does have an impressive roster of podcasts, including Culpable, Cuidad Magica, Radio Rental, and Radical. Here's what host Celisia Stanton has to say about her show: "Crime stories are hard to ignore and even harder to forget. But the thing is... they’re stories. And getting a story right is all about how you tell it. Truer Crime talks about real people — murdered, missing, misled — with more nuance, more context, and more questions." On her website, Stanton explains the genesis of her podcast: "For years, like you -- or at least someone you know -- I kept coming back to this captivating and questionable genre: true crime. Then 2020 hit. And in the middle of the pandemic, I was the victim of a huge financial scheme, one that defrauded me of tens of thousands of dollars. Suddenly, I was learning first hand what the ‘justice’ in ‘criminal justice’ really meant. It’s easy to criticize true crime as sick entertainment, but we can’t deny that the way these stories are told has a profound impact on how we view our world. So I don’t think the answer is to stop telling them. In fact, I think we need to go deeper. So I created Truer Crime to do just that. Aside from podcasting, I’m a wedding + portrait photographer, high school debate coach, and mother to three cats (Piedmont, Jean Jacques, and Newton)."

 Ahead of season two, which is slated to premiere this spring, there is a three-episode prequel, out now.

I listened to the three-episode prequel and came away impressed. The Mindy Dodd episode was representative of the show. 

First, Stanton begins in an unusual yet refreshing way for a true-crime podcast, taking a much-deserved swipe at Snapped, an Oxygen network TV show where the focus is on murderous females. Apparently, the show is sometimes guilty of fitting a case's facts to its theme. Mindy Dodd was on Snapped, and Stanton tells listeners that Mindy's story is far more complicated and nuanced than a woman who kills her husband. By the time, Stanton presents us with all the facts -- Mindy's husband Henry started out as her stepfather who abused her, got her pregnant, threatened to kill her, and forced her to marry him -- we perhaps better understand her motive. 

It's fitting that the show has an uplifting ending. Listen to find out.

Stanton is excellent as the host. Unlike some true-crime hosts, she is not overly dramatic. Her tone is more measured than some of the more self-righteous true-crime hosts, who would condemn jaywalking as if it were a capital crime.

The background music -- usually overwrought and too loud -- is more understated and mood inducing than finger-pointing screeching.

 While I'm not sure that Truer Crime is that much different than your average true-crime podcast, I readily admit that Stanton is a talented host with a unique focus and the show's texture sounds more fair-minded and even-handed than judgmental.

A terrific insight into the show comes from Dani Bruflodt, who produces the Thyme is Honey blog about daily efficiency. "Finally, a true-crime podcast that looks at the darkest corners of humanity and, instead of providing us with a constant stream of trauma porn, asks us to confront the failures of both our society and justice system and seek better solutions. Stanton delivers the stories with compassion and a keen understanding of abolition and transformative justice."  Check out Truer Crime. If you like true-crime podcasts, it's a good one. 

#podcast #podcasting #true crime

[ancestorsofjudah]

2 Kings 9: 27-33. "The Age of Justice."

We have been speaking of Conditions under separate cover. Conditions are changes in the ways human beings convey themselves through history.

Regime Changes such as those discussed in the Melachim and in the Generations in the Septuagint are folded inside Shifts, or Conditions and explain the ins and outs, ups and downs, tops and bottoms in human history and they leave us with tracts of data, alphabet lint to use is the end point, the Fourth Condition, called the Age of Mashiach, of universal conscience.

The Septuagint, the Books of Chronicles end prophetically saying a Word Apocalypse will envelope us, causing magic, science, religion, politics and science to go askew.

But lo, King Cyrus, "the King of Science", which is always the end point of what is Righteous will save us. So, if we apply all we know to the Cause, to the onset of the Fourth Shift using the lint trail the God of Israel and His Jewish Prophets have laid down us with so much hope, I know we can do it in our lifetimes, bring about the end of the Third Shift, the birth of another blood sucking era of human willy nilly and woe.

The Death of Ahaziah, "the Grasping.'

27 When Ahaziah king of Judah saw what had happened, he fled up the road to Beth Haggan.[d] Jehu chased him, shouting, “Kill him too!” They wounded him in his chariot on the way up to Gur near Ibleam, but he escaped to Megiddo and died there.

 28 His servants took him by chariot to Jerusalem and buried him with his ancestors in his tomb in the City of David. 

29 (In the eleventh year of Joram son of Ahab, Ahaziah had become king of Judah.)

The Regime called the Elventh Year of Joram Son of Ahab, when Ahaziah became King of Judah=4167, דאוז‎ , dawes, "Lamentations Over Mankind."

The adjective דוה (daweh), meaning faint (Lamentations 1:13) or unwell, menstruous (Leviticus 15:33, Isaiah 30:22)

"Woe to the forest."

The common Semitic masculine noun עץ ('es), primarily meaning tree. Our noun is used to denote a single standing tree (Genesis 2:9), or a group of trees (Genesis 2:16). It is used to denote wood for kindling (Joshua 9:23), wood as a building material (Genesis 6:14, 2 Kings 12:13), and items made of wood (Exodus 7:19, Deuteronomy 19:5).

And hence it may be used to denote (wooden) idols (Deuteronomy 4:28) or gallows, stake or similar means of execution (Genesis 40:19, Deuteronomy 21:22).

The theological meaning of the Biblical tree (from the two trees in Paradise related to the fall of man, to the cross of Christ, to the restored Tree of Life as witnessed by John the Revelator - REVELATION 22:2) seem to promote a relationship with the verb עוץ ('us) meaning to counsel or regard.

The feminine noun עצה ('esa), meaning trees collectively. This noun occurs only once, in Jeremiah 6:6.

Beth Haggan=The House of Social Feasting

"The verb חגג (hagag) describes a gathering up of people in order to celebrate or hold a feast, specifically any of the three main pilgrimage feasts that Israel was to celebrate (Exodus 23:14-16).

These feasts were huge affairs that caused the entire daily economy to cease for many days and pretty much the whole population to be on the move; this to the great delight of the Israelites but much to the chagrin and bewilderment of the various occupying forces (who had trouble enough with the Hebrew insistence on a whole day off per every seven)."

Jehu. the god of Justice, chased the wicked man right into the waiting arms of the IDF of ancient times, where they were waiting for him.

They wounded him in his chariot on the way up to Gur near Ibleam, but he escaped to Megiddo and died there.

= The wounded him and his vehicle, whatever bullshit crap he was using to beguile the people and maintain his appetites.

Gur= quarrel, argument

Ibleam= that destroys the people

Megiddo= the instrument/place that exposes and slaughters the animal.

"The verb גדד (gadad) describes making an invasive cut, mostly in order to expose something valuable. Noun גדוד (gedud) may describe an invasive band of raiders, or more general: a cutting, a furrow. Noun גדודה (geduda) means a furrow or cutting. Noun גד (gad) appears to describe the exposed treasure and may be used to describe a physical fortune, plain luck or a state of felicity.

Verb גדה (gada) also means to cut. Noun גדה (gadda) refers to a river bank. Noun גדי (gedi) describes a young animal, but mostly one that was either just slaughtered or soon will be."

This is what has to be done. Once the mouth of the sewer, things like the Republican Party, the Communist Party, persons like Donald Trump, Vladimir Putin, Bashar Assad, Muhammad bin Salman, that rat's ass in Tehran, those fat fux in Salt Lake City are all dealt with, right in front of their people, the world changes Shifts. The Conditions change. The Prophet Muhammad spoke of this as well.

As we are reading, you never, ever let a wicked man seek power, you never let him have it, and if he somehow gets it, you kill him and anyone who helped him to do it right then and there, you do not wait.

The people of Ukraine and Israel will surely attest to the significance of my words as will Muslim, Jewish, gay and black people all around the world. You always tell the world exactly what a bad man is, and then you kill him. That is the rule. We'll explain how to kill his cunt in the next section.

The Values in Gematria for the above verses are:

v. 27: The Value in Gematria is 12048, יבאֶפֶסדח, ibafesdah, "to wish for a festival of understanding",

v. 28: The Value in Gematria is 7065, זאֶפֶסוה‎, zepesua, "the gold God hides in mankind is the Daughter of Salvation."

The Hidden Gold that is the Daughter of Salvation is the Torah, but the unwritten portion that lies hidden in all sentient beings. When the Torah is revealed to us by Ha Shem, not by the Rabbi, the Yehsiva, your Dad or Uncle Harv, but by thine own self at the end of the climb, face to face with the Eye of God, Ha Shem, when the match is made, this is the Torah we want to know.

The more Jews are willing to accept this and actually do it, and the more the ROW is willing to start killing the assholes and break free of their bullshit, the sooner the Fourth Shift, the Age of Justice will commence.

[pragmatic-optimist]

A (short) list of things that wreck me —

Carlos Reyes going from “adorably confused” to “irresistibly charming and sexy” in the span of .003 seconds.

Rafael Silva, everyone. 👏🏽

#911 lone star #911 lone star spoilers #carlos reyes #rafael silva #tarlos #don’t get me started on the eyebrow crease #rafa continues to steal his scenes #i love one (1) talented man #there are not enough adjectives to do him justice

[thefanficmonster]

Chaos Magnet

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None :)

Genre: FLUFF, HUMOR, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When Y/N get invited onto a stream with the gang by Jack (Sean) she’s not sure what to expect but it’s safe to say that such chaos is not something she could’ve ever imagined.

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your lovely request, it really had me laughing and still had me be awe-struck by the adorableness of the idea. Sorry it’s been such a long time since you put in the request but I still hope you come across the fic and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Alright people, silence in the call for a moment!“ Jack calls out when the lobby’s counter has finally reached up to nine, leaving room for one more person who is yet to join, but apparently he doesn’t care much that he’ll probably have to repeat himself when the tenth person enters the call and lobby.

“Jack, you should know by now, the day there’s silence in this call is when some supernatural force murders all ten of our mics. It just won’t happen, deal with it.“ Charlie, who was having an ‘intense’ discussion with Toast up until Jack’s interruption, says sarcastically, chuckling ever so slightly, enough for it to be contagious and make me crack a smile as well.

“There won’t be silence, I’ll be talking. If only the rest of you would LET ME.“ Jack replies just as sarcastically, getting Charlie to let out an actual fit of laughter. When his chuckling subsides along with the rest of the chatter in the call, Jack finally gets to have the speech he mentioned, “Right, ok so here’s the deal folks: today we have a guest addition to the stream, curtesy of mine because I’m obsessed with her channel. As you might or might not have noticed, there’s one person missing from the lobby but she’s gonna be joining us any minute now. As I said, I’m a huge fan so you better not embarrass me or I swear I’m gonna kill you first when I get to be an impostor.”

I don’t know what the others are thinking - probably something similar as what I’m thinking though: Noted, embarrass Jack to the best of your ability. Trust me, getting him flustered in front of his YouTube idol is well worth the death in Among Us he’s threatening us with.

“Also keep in mind that she’s of a different kind, not of our breed if you will - she’s an ASMR YouTuber. Not those who eat in the mic just because they think it’d be pleasant for people to hear.“ Jack goes on to explain, the way he’s described this girl’s craft is quite intriguing, especially when you consider how confidently Jack expressed his distaste with ASMR in the past. He’s always claimed not to be a fan but here we are, I guess people really do change.

“Thank you for making it seem like I do more than just cut up soaps, Jack. I really appreciate it but don’t bump the bar up that high, people will be disappointed when they actually visit my channel.“ An unfamiliar voice appears in the call out of nowhere. Though, unfamiliar is not the adjective I should focus on when describing this girl’s voice. I’ll list a few more but even they won’t do it justice: pleasant, awing, mesmerizing, unbelievable, out-of-this-world...I really could keep going.

“Oh come on, Y/N, you don’t just cut up soap. You turn them into bath bombs too!“ Jack laughs, earning him a playful scoff from the newcomer. “Oh yeah, almost forgot - Everyone, this is Y/N, our ASMR artist.“

“Please, some ‘artist’ I am. The people in my comment section would disagree with that description.“ She giggles after kindly responding to each and every greeting the gang sends her way, myself included. “The word I’ve seen people use most when describing my channel is ‘cringey’ so....yeah.“ She laughs, a genuine laugh instead of the bitter one I was expecting to follow such words.

“That seems to be the cool kids’ favorite word, don’t dwell too much on it.“ Rae tells her reassuringly, “What’s important is what word would you use to describe your channel?“

Y/N hums, sounding as though she’s fallen in thought but that’s only one brief moment before she answers. Or begins to, at least, “Well, if I were to describe my channel with one word it’d be....BEEFY!”

That one out-of-context word, screamed out by such an angelic voice has me breaking down with overwhelming laughter collapsing all my ability to hold back.

“Out of all the words, you’d choose beefy?“ I somehow manage to ask between fits of laughter that render me breathless.

“She’s a vegetarian, I think, I don’t know why she’d choose that word.“ Jack too is laughing his butt off but has a significantly better grip on it, “Y/N, care to explain your peculiar choice?“

There’s a lot of shuffling and random noise on Y/N’s end before her reply finally comes, accompanied by a weak meow, “Sorry guys, that was a classic cat of Mr. Beef Stronganoff seeking attention by being chaotic.” She says through laughter, her words followed by another meow which was a lot more clear, seemingly closer to the mic, “He took down my mic, and he seems like he wants to do it again....BEEFY NO!”

For some reason, even with that explanation in mind, I can’t keep myself from laughing. Come to think of it, I think the explanation only makes it funnier.

“Ugh, darn it! I saved my mic but he ran across my keyboard and turned my webcam off how do I turn it back on?“ Her voice dies down for a few secs before it reemerges from her end, “Ok nevermind I got it. Now I can answer...what was the question again?“

Recovering from his laughing fit, Jack manages to repeat the question, “What word would you use to describe your channel?”

“Oh that! Right, ok. Um, I’d call it aesthetically pleasing and BEEFY NOT THE ROUTER CABLE YOU DUMMIE!“

She’s insane. Or her cat’s insane. I can’t tell. Maybe both. Either way, I can’t help but feel like I’ve found a soulmate in this literal stranger. It’s safe to say us chaos magnets like her and I, we don’t only attract chaos, but also chaotic individuals. I’m so glad she magnetized me to herself. Or was it the other way around? We may never know - mystery is in the nature of us chaos magnets, you know.

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#corpse husband #corpse #corpse fic #corpse fluff #corpse fandom #corpse fanfic #corpse fanfiction #corpse x you #corpse x y/n #corpse x reader #corpse imagines #corpse imagine #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanficiton #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse husband fic #corpse husband fluff #corpse husband is ruining my life #corpse husband imagine #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #fluff #x reader #requests open #request

[blueink2k]

Propaganda in Death Note and How It Played Into Light’s God Complex

[This is based on information from the anime, as I have yet to read the manga for myself. Caps from or references to the manga may be included to emphasize points or provide visuals, but the version of the plot I'm referring to is taken from the anime.]

Light Yagami does not pick up the Death Note knowing he’s going to use it to commit mass murder and become the God of his New World.

Actually, he does the opposite. He kills someone to test it as he’s under the impression it isn’t real, convinces himself it was a freak coincidence, and decides to try it out in a way that will provide a more concrete conclusion. When it does end up working he’s stunned, to say the least.

“I killed them both...I killed two men. Those were human lives. I-It won’t be overlooked. Besides, who am I to pass judgment on others?”

Light Yagami, the perfect, straight-A, model student, has just confirmed he killed two people using some strange supernatural notebook that just happened to fall into his hands. He’s always believed strongly in his morals. He’s been on course his whole life to join the police force like his father an deliver justice, and here he is, an indirect murderer. 

So what does he do about it?

...He comes up with a reason to justify himself. 

The people he killed were criminals. Mere scum who do nothing but rot and infect the world. Wouldn’t everyone be better off without them? It isn’t that he’s never considered this before, he has, albeit not to the same degree as taking their deaths into his own hands. But now that he has the power to do so, why shouldn’t he? He’s smart, he’s determined. He’s capable of it.

In fact, in his mind, he’s the only one who is.

He’s kind of right. He’s the top of his class, he comes out on top in national tests, he barely even has to try. Plus, he’s the only one that has a Death Note, and therefore the power to do this. 

At this point in time, he doesn’t consider himself a god. He doesn’t want to rule the world, he just wants to change it. Something else important to note is that he doesn’t refer to himself as Kira or anything other than Light. 

...That is, until...

Websites start popping up all over claiming that whoever this mass murderer is is named “Kira”, a god among men risen to punish criminals and save the world.

Two things to note here;

Apparently, “Kira” is returning, meaning there must have been some kind of previous belief in an entity that either did something similar to Light or had the same beliefs. There isn’t any other canon mention of a previous Kira, and this in and of itself is pretty vague, but given that there’s tons of religions in real life that have never had a big breakthrough, it’s reasonable to believe this could be something similar. That, or a creepypasta. Or a cult.

Light created this understanding that he had to be the one to change the world to cope with his murders. Actually - that might be the worst way to put it, since we know how strongly he feels about justice and being given an outlet to carry out this wish of world peace just enhanced this, but nonetheless... It’s impossible to assume he’s doing all of this without even a speck of guilt. Therefore, this is the first hint of appreciation or even just acknowledgement that what he’s doing is right. 

Disregarding the first point (as interesting as I find it), this is really the first time Light is ever told what he’s doing is good. His own father - who he idolizes -considers Kira evil. His sister flat out says she hates him. Of course, this is all after Kira actually does become popular, but still, all he receives from that point on is disapproval from the people he cares the most about. The online love for Kira is all he has.

So, yeah, he probably internalizes it.

He thinks he’s doing the right thing. He thinks he’s giving others justice. He thinks he’s the only one who can do this. Others agreeing is only enhancing this. They’re the ones who call him God.

As the story progresses, Kira’s power and popularity grows. He gains direct news coverage, people begin sending him names of people to kill, his following grows. So much so, that when someone gets a Death Note and figures out that must be what he’s using, their immediate response is to find a way to contact him.

Cue Misa Amane and Sakura TV.

Sakura TV is a news program known for its unreliability. Demegawa, the director, even says he’s willing to make things up for publicity. And that’s when the Second Kira tapes arrive. 

This, however, is only the first encounter with Sakura TV.

After this, the only direct involvement the police has with it is in the Yotsuba arc, when it’s used to lure out Higuchi. Otherwise the program promotes Kira all on its own, even going so far as to create Kira’s Kingdom - half a scam for viewers’ money, half a way to get more people to see Kira as God. And it works. He gains a following of people who believe he will create a new, better world, and will even give themselves up to help him. 

An example of this following is when a mob of followers attacks the SPK under Kira’s orders. They’re so quick to join in, and are even willing to put their names and faces on TV in trust that Kira will not kill them.

All of this publicity sparks fear in the general public. People begin fearing that if they do something wrong Kira will kill them, causing crime rates to drop nearly 70% over Kira’s 6 year reign, as well as completely stopping wars.

Demegawa is eventually killed. Other news programs begin scrambling to claim the voice of Kira, topped by NHN, where we are reintroduced to Kiyomi Takada as Kira’s spokeswoman as well as one of his greatest supporters.

Light, as much as he hates Sakura TV and NHN’s depictions of Kira, uses them to his advantage as much as he can.

But really, imagine what this is all doing to him.

At the beginning, he struggled with grasping what he was doing as right. His sense of justice, righteousness, and perfectness shattered by a single notebook. But this is perfect, he figures that if he really wants to fix the world, this is one surefire way to do it. And yeah, his family hates Kira, but online he’s worshiped as God. We already know he has a pretty decent ego, and all of this is doing nothing but fueling it.

To top it all off, as he continues with his killings, his following grows. More and more people begin to support him, every single day there’s news stations upon news stations covering his story, some negative, some positive. People from all over express admiration towards him, even the President of the United States sides with him. He is literally worshiped as Kira, as God.

This all makes it sounds like his god complex starts later in the series, so to clarify; no, he does not pick up the book with plans to become God, but the second people start fueling his ego, the more twisted his ideals and motivations become. He’s the only one who can fix this rotten world. He holds the power of a god in his hands, he does what only a god can do, and everyone treats him accordingly. He is Kira, he is God.

Between websites, news programs, and his cult-like following, Light had enough attention to feed into his ego for a lifetime. He was perfect pre-Death Note. Smart, charming, set for success. There never was a time where he was particularly not narcissistic, it was just that he only felt this way inside of himself. The way he presented to others? A perfect, cool guy persona with an - in all honesty - annoying prickly jerk hiding inside. But no one ever knew this, he never let them know, and because he was always naturally successful it was more of an expectation he just met rather than surpassed, so he wasn’t consistently praised and this incredible self-esteem wasn’t propped up by anyone but himself.

To cycle back to the title of this rant-essay-analysis-whatever you’d like to call it, I want to share some examples about exactly why I even classify this news coverage and whatnot of Kira as propaganda.

Kira’s supporters cause a riot at SPK HQ under Kira’s orders and Demegawa’s direction.

Mikami providing his insight as to why he supports Kira on television, openly promoting Kira and encouraging others to join him.

Takada announces her new role as Kira’s spokesperson on NHN.

Mikami uses his power as Kira to kill members of Kira’s Kingdom, supposed followers of Kira who have been using his publicity to gain money and attention.

Most of this doesn’t exactly look like your standard propaganda posters or news story, but it does fit the overall criteria;

Information from a biased viewpoint used to promote/publicize a certain view (accepting Kira as God)

Shows exclusively positive views on Kira

Assigns Kira positive adjectives and makes him appear as good (God, savior, messenger from Hell), never considering or showing the bad

Presenting only positive statistics (Light does this in his monologue where he brings up the 70% crime rate drop, and given there’s no way he could have calculated this on his own he likely got it from one of these media sources. Not that it’s incorrect, per se, but he does fail to mention how many innocent people he’s killed in order to do this.)

Appeals to regular, everyday people by talking about how he’s doing this for the betterment of the whole world. People who are directly affected by crime are also likely positively impacted by this.

Initiates and spreads fear by explaining how Kira only attacks those who do wrong.

In the end, Light’s personal descent into his god complex, as well as his effects on the world can be attributed to many things, but it would be a crime to ignore just how big of a role news and other types of media played in this without his direct input. To think, if Light had won and overtaken the police like he was going to, he’d have absolutely no problem stepping into his shoes as God. Everyone else already set the stage, he just had to get there first.

-

This is my first Death Note analysis, so please excuse any errors, I just watched the anime for the first time and am doing my best to piece together all of the plot and especially Light’s deep characterization the best I can. If I ever read the manga or find something new, chances are this will be updated. But as for now, it’s finally finished after a week or so of procrastinating. Thank you for reading if you got this far! <3

#death note #light yagami #kira #analysis #anime analysis #rant #essay #hitoshi demegawa #do people even care enough about him to have a tag #💀 #death note anime #teru mikami #kiyomi takada #yagami light #mikami teru #takada kiyomi #long post #meta

[tamcitrus]

wine.

pairing: Satori Tendou x fem. reader x Sugawara Koushi

words: 2 k.

warnings: smut, orgasm denial, creampie, recreative use of alcohol?

tam’s notes: haha yes i did this. i hope you like it because i can’t stop thinking about these two. they live in my mind rent free. also please accept my somewhat edit as a banner.

You didn't know how you ended in this situation or how your boyfriend agreed to this. But it was mind blowing. It was hot, sexy, intoxicating, arousing, unexpected. Not even all adjectives you could think of made justice to what you were seeing.

"She looks amused," Tendou commented as he fell to his knees next to the other guy.

"She does. Are you enjoying yourself, sugar?" Sugawara smiled. It was the same polite smile you had always seen on his face.

Tendou took Suga's dick on his mouth and the white haired guy gasped. All you could do was rub your thighs together to feel something. Your breathing hitched when Tendou deepthroated Suga and the last almost screamed. You tried to fight your restraint but you couldn't free your hands. Damn Sugawara, he knew how to make a good knot.

"Fuck, boys, please," you whined.

They both laughed and Suga took Satori's face to make him stand up to kiss him. You could see their tongues exploring the other's mouth and you wanted nothing more than to have their mouths on you. Anywhere as long as it was over your body. They walked to the bed between kisses and observed you as they licked their lips.

Suga released your hands and kneeled behind you, you could feel his erection against your back.

"Are you sure about this? You can back up at any moment," Sugawara whispered in your ear and kissed your neck.

"She's been daydreaming about this, right honey?" Satori bit your thigh and you moaned.

"I want this… please?" you said. You sounded desperate and breathless. And you were.

Tendou didn't need to hear anything else and started to eat you out. His tongue played with your clit and his long and slender fingers worked on your insides deliciously. Suga giggled and started kissing your neck and massaging your breasts.

"Do you feel good?" the setter asked and you nodded. "Satori is so good with his mouth…" he said and pulled the other guy's hair to get him off of you.

Tendou smiled, that closed eyes and kitty mouth smile that could easily put you into a sugar comma, and licked his lips.

"I bet you're good with your mouth too, Koushi-kun," he said and then he kissed you.

You could taste yourself on Satori's tongue and somehow it was sweet but also bitter. It could be the alcohol you all were drinking before or just you, you couldn't tell. Suga moved to the side and watched you kiss each other. When you separated he sat between your bodies and pushed Satori down so he was lying on the bed.

"I wanna taste her too," he said and he took Tendou's face to kiss him.

You watched in awe how they kissed again. You were in the perfect position to stretch your arms and take their dicks on your hands to pump them. Your hands on them and the friction between their bodies made them growl in the kiss. Suga pushed your hands away and moved back to take Satori's cock on his mouth.

"God fuck," the red haired boy said. "Come, sit on my face pretty please," he managed to ask you before Koushi took him on his mouth again.

You giggled and crawled your way to him to fulfill his request. You put your legs on each side of his head and he embraced your thighs as you lowered your body until his mouth met your pussy. Tendou's tongue started working on your insides meticulously, each moan he let out sent vibrations from his tongue to your folds and it felt amazing.

Sugawara moved aside to observe the scene and jerked himself off. He stood at the end of the bed and leaned in to kiss you. Satori saw him approach and used one of his hands on the other's cock.

"Oh Satori, so greedy," Suga caressed the red haired boy's face sweetly under your body. "Do you want me in your mouth again?"

You moved back at the same time Tendou let his head fall off the end of the bed and sucked Sugawara again.

"Doll, why don't you make him feel good too? Take his dick," Koushi said. Well, he ordered. He was always sweet and gentle but it was an order all the same.

You straddled Satori's hips and squeezed his hand as a question. Are you ready? He squeezed your hand back so you obeyed Suga and sat on Satori's dick. Tendou met you halfway with his hips and you screamed when he hit your g-spot. Sugawara leaned down and held Satori's hips down with his delicate hands.

"Whoops, sorry pretty boy," his new position caused Satori to choke on his dick. "Let her have fun, don't move."

You started to move your hips back and forward in sync with Sugawara’s strokes on the red haired boy’s mouth. You leaned down to kiss Tendou’s neck and left a bite mark on his shoulder. Having you bouncing on his cock and having a beautiful man’s dick on his mouth was throwing him off the edge. He squeezed Suga’s thigh to signal him to step back so he could use his mouth to speak.

“I’m coming,” he announced and smirked. He was really enjoying himself tonight.

“Be a good boy and fill her up,” the former setter said, a sweet smile on his face.

“I’d rather to fill you up instead,” the red haired boy answered as he held your hips to keep you still.

“So greedy,” Suga repeated. “Come here.”

Suga kneeled at one side of the bed as you got off Satori and he faced the other boy. Koushi took the dick in front of him on his mouth and let it hit the back of his throat. He blinked a few times looking directly at Tendou, almost asking if this was ok, if this was what he wanted. Satori smiled at the big eyes and long eyelashes and tangled his hand in the ash-like strands to scratch his scalp like he would’ve pet a cat, and he got almost the same reaction from the guy at his feet, who enjoyed the touch and moaned on the member in his mouth.

You looked at them enjoying each other and touched yourself. You were high on lust, the ache between your legs was begging for someone or something to take care of it. You rubbed your clit in lazy circles as you watched how Suga guided Satori to his climax.

“You better spill it all over her,” Tendou said and that was his only warning before he was filling up the other’s mouth with semen.

Suga resisted the temptation to laugh and pushed you down on the mattress to get his body over yours as he slowly opened his mouth to spill Satori’s seed all over your chest, chin and lips.

“Fucking hot,” Tendou commented as he laid down by your side and just observed.

Sugawara looked at him, and apparently they’ve been talking by telepathy the whole night because just with that Tendou was speaking again.

“Go on, I think I’m done,” he giggled. “I’ll enjoy the show.”

He felt tired. Maybe he needed a break. Maybe he just drank too much alcohol before action. Who knows. What he did know was you kissing Koushi and his semen dripping from your lips was hot. So hot he could pass out there.

Koushi enjoyed your lips on his face and then on his neck where you sucked his pale skin to leave a mark. He took his cock on his hand to tease your entrance, moving up and down on your slit. 

“Just fuck me, please,” you said as you covered your face with your hands.

“Let me look at you then,” he whispered.

He threw your legs over his shoulders and when you finally let him see your face he thrusted inside you. Tendou was still tired but he pushed his upper body up to get close to you and kiss you. Your legs were trembling more and more with each movement Koushi made. But he suddenly stopped.

“Turn around, please.”

You obeyed him and held your body up with your hands and knees. You whined a bit in the process because your legs wouldn’t stop trembling and you were sure you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself for long.

Suga had his dick inside you again and he left a trail of kisses on your spine, but he still wasn’t moving. Your walls clenched, begging for some friction. His hand was on your clit, rubbing it in circles, and you cried his name.

“Be a good girl, stay still for him,” Tendou said. He was smiling and pumping his dick in lazy motions as he observed how the other man pleased you.

You whined again but you obeyed anyway, you wanted to be a good girl for them. When he finally moved again -he was slow, it felt agonizing- tears pricked up on the corner of your eyes, he was hitting just the right spot to make you see stars every time.

“Let me hear you say my name,” Suga was bending over your back and kissing your neck as he kept moving slow.

“Suga… Suga, please, faster…” you said, a tear finally rolling down your cheek.

“You look so pretty right now,” Tendou praised.

You didn’t know who he was talking to, maybe to both of you. Sugawara was moving faster now and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold your body up.

“Are you tired, babe?” he asked and you nodded. “Do you want to cum?” another nod. “Say it, please.”

“I… ah-I wanna cum, Suga…” you mumbled and wiggled your hips when he stood still again.

Your arms finally gave up so you let your head and chest fall to the mattress. And then he started a relentless stroking on your cunt. 

“Let me hear you, babe, hold your head up,” he said and gently pulled from your hair.

You couldn’t answer but you did as you were told. Tendou was smiling as he touched himself. He caressed your cheek with his free hand and licked his lips while he looked at Suga with lustful eyes.

“Cum on my dick, pretty girl, come on,” Sugawara was whispering in your ear as he felt how your pussy pressed on his dick more and more.

You didn’t need to be told twice and finally reached your climax as the white haired guy sucked a bruise on your neck.

“Be a good boy and fill her up,” Satori repeated what was told to him not long before.

Koushi never took orders but he could make an exception this time. You were trembling beneath him and moaning his name as a mantra. That and how tight you felt now were enough to throw him off the edge of his control. He came inside you, filling your cunt with his seed and he didn’t pull off until he saw it dripping between your bodies.

“Fiuuuu,” Tendou whistled. “I could watch this a thousand times. You did so good, babygirl.”

Sugawara crashed by your side and caressed your back as Satori pampered kisses all over your face and shoulders. You were face down in the mattress trying to catch your breath and smiling to yourself at the affection the boys were showing.

“Can we move to the jacuzzi?” you asked when you were able to think straight again.

“Suga-kun is getting it ready for us,” Satori whispered.

“Should we open another bottle?” Sugawara came back from the bathroom and walked -naked- to the minibar the room you rented had.

“Definitely,” Tendou said as he helped you to get up.

You got inside the jacuzzi as the boys took care of the glasses and the bottle of wine. The hot water and bubbles felt so good on your abused body, you never expected to be so tired after sex. To be fair, you were with the double people as usual but you could swear you had more stamina than this.

You had another bottle of wine and a nice talk for a while until the boys got mildly drunk and couldn't keep their hands off of each other anymore. You just observed and kept drinking, maybe they would get too tired and you could sleep for a few hours. You were sure you were going for a second round when they recovered some energy, so you just let them be and got some rest as you enjoyed the show they were putting up for you.

#haikyuucreations #sugawara koushi #satori tendou #hq sugawara #hq satori #sugawara x reader #satori x reader #hq smut #sugawara smut #satori smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #listening to: no te me quites de aca by mon laferte

[vellichxrr6782]

— ethereal.

character[s] — kaedehara kazuha theme & genre — fluff, established relationship summary — kazuha is in love with you. that's it. cw/tw — none, could be interpreted as fem!reader, very short word count — 586 words a/n — i was listening to tender as a tomb by tennis while writing this, ig the vibe fits a little ?? anyways kazuha <33333

to kazuha, you were more than enough.

you were the prettiest flower, you were the brightest star, you were the most melodious song, you were the most compelling piece of poetry there was to be found in teyvat.

your breeze was gentle, striking, your presence was comforting, your arms were warm and your eyes were loving. he knew adjectives couldn't be enough to capture every little thing he felt for you. they would fall short of his actual feelings, and only his actions could do him justice.

every time you spoke his name with your sweet voice was another round of crystalflies fluttering in his stomach, sending a tingle through his body. his cheeks bloomed in shades of red, just like maples leaves. every time you looked his way, his worries washed away like a shell on the beach's shore, calm blue waters crashing and returning.

your heart glowed, with purity, tenderness, it glowed magnificently, making him feel as if he was riding the cool wind or sleeping on a fluffy cloud.

serene, tranquil, ethereal, loved.

"kazuha!" you called out to him, running across the warm sand. the weather was lovely, the sun shone brightly, the birds chirped a little merry tune, the wind blew and carried stories untold to all the seven nations, and you were there beside him, keeping him company. what more did kazuha need?

you gave him a smile as you stopped in front of him, "there you are!" you said, breathing out in exhaustion. he observed your figure, bathed in the radiant sunglow.

kazuha felt an unfamiliar feeling. the feeling of being complete.

he spoke your name, inquiring why you ran all the way from the docked crux fleet to the beaches at guyun. his voice was calm as the autumn breeze.

"i missed you." you grinned, wrapping your arms around him in an instant. you swore you could see the faintest blush on his cheeks as he turned his head to the side, embarrassed to lose his composure.

"i've.. been gone for less than fifteen minutes." he said, relaxing in your embrace.

"that's far too long to spend without you." you murmured against his neck, and kazuha pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, cupping your cheeks gently in his hands.

you glanced for a brief moment at his lips, and he was quick to take the hint, as if he was waiting for you. without waiting another second, he kissed you.

his lips were soft, and the feeling of them against yours was ethereal. adrenaline coursed through your veins as you sunk deeper into the kiss. he was so perfect, so splendid. kazuha pulled away, cupping your cheeks in his bandaged hands.

you put your head on his chest, to hide your burning face. you were disappointed the kiss was so short. oh well, it's not like he's going anywhere.

you could hear his heartbeat, pounding with a lovely rhythm.

"hear that, my maple?" he whispered, holding you close. "this heart, it only beats for you. forever and always."

"as mine does for you."

tranquillity blossomed in your heart, ardour overtaking your senses.

"i love you, y/n." he said, caressing your cheeks.

he was more than enough for you, too.

"i love you too, kazuha."

may the world be against you both, may celestia turn its back on you, as long as you both had each other, you'd be fine. it'll all be okay.

and both your names were written as poetry, your love; a ballad for history.

published on; 5th october, 2021 writing belongs to @/vellichxrr6782 on tumblr.

#[🔖 vellichxrr writes ] #kazuha x reader #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kaedehara x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #kazuha genshin impact #kaedehara kazuha genshin impact #kazuha fluff

[kendrixtermina]

Appreciating the Range of Type 6, or, one stereotypical example, and three that aren’t.

I want to tell you about some type 6 ppl that I know in my personal life.

Exemplar #1: F. B.

Complete Stats

Wing: 5 p or cp: largely phobic – lots of safety worries, outright authoritarian follower personality Instinct: sp/soc Trifix: 613  - 6w5 1w2 3w2 (“The Taskmaster” or “The Middle Manager”) jungian: ISTJ / SLI-Te oldham: Conscientious & Aggressive Essence Type: Mars Temperament: Pure Choleric

What he’s like:

Not pleasant.

Every “strict conservative middle aged guy” stereotype in the book. Control freak, makes a mountain out of every molehill, sees the world as full of axe murderers, judgemental as fuck, horrible temper and yet completely impersonable, all his opinions are copypasted from right-wing news sites. When they say war is good he’s for war, and when they say war is bad he’ll be like “At least Trump did not start any more wars” without perceiving a contradiction. Despite this, he believes is very hot, principled and funny. He is none of these things. He puts people down nonstop. My knowledge of neurochemistry tells me that he must have emotions somewhere or he couldn’t function, but I ain’t ever seen a single one of those emotions. They’re all for his job and a few trusted mentor figures. And his mom. At least he loved her.

If you say anything he doesn’t like, he “throws the sofa out the window” as his wife once put it.

How he’s a Type 6:

Well, he’s pretty much every negative stereotype in a nutshell… other than distrusting his partner. But that might be cause hes sx blind, or cause the wife is big on monogamy & wouldn’t ever cheat.

The one positive trait of 6 that he has is that he does his research. Before moving anywhere he googles the crime rates and if you need a doctor he might find you the best one. But even that can be overriden by ideology (hydroxychloroquine!). And if you don’t take his exact advice, there goes the sofa out the window again…

And I guess the work ethic from all 3 parts of the trifix really comes through – he hasn’t had a single bad grade in his life and always keeps collecting new certifications, and will make sure you hear about it...

Exemplar #2: I.

Complete Stats

Wing: 5 P or cp: pretty much an even mix of phobic and counterphobic Instinct: sp/soc Trifix: 614 - 6w5 1w2 4w3 (Would prolly call herself “The Big Pain” rather than “The Philosopher” ^^°) jungian: INTJ / ILI-Ni oldham: Serious & Conscientious Essence Type: Saturn Temperament: Chlor-Mel

What she’s like:

I’d describe her as serious, mature, discerning, focused and passionate about her friendships, if perhaps somewhat forceful at times, with a dry, sarcastic sense of humor.

Comes across like someone who knows what she’s talking about, with well-articulated points.

Often the Responsible Sibling, Designated Sanity Checker or Bullshit Detector.

Prefers to plan everything in advance in typical Ni dom fashion, even amusement part trips. Gets somewhat anxious without a future plan or shedule.

Often mistaken for a whole lot more sociable and confident that she really feels inside. (even I kinda bought it and got her whole darn trifix wrong on my first typing attempt, though that was when I was new to typology) She can act the boss act temporarily to get the situation over with, but she actually hates making decisions.

She does however have the occasional cute/pure moment where that lower function block comes out.

How she’s a Type 6:

She has saved our family from many a terrible restaurant by making sure to check the reviews. The preparing for all possible dangers is very 6, the acting tough outwardly when youre inwardly anxious, the intellectual problem solving & some tendency towards organization/responsibility/ “logistic” intelligence.

One online test she took gave her 5w6 instead of 6w5 but that’s probably just the ITxx-ness leaking in. I remember this one time we were discussing this artsy-fartsy theater play to which we’d had fascinatingly different reactions, and at one point I half-jokingly said something like “But does anyone ever really feel connected to others, or is that a myth?” to which she wrote, “[Name], what the fuck? Yes I do.” and then immediately deleted it. That’s more of a 6 reaction innit?

Nonetheless the wing does feature in significantly – for example she got very well informed about a lot of topics because she researched them to assuage a random survival-related fear, like, “How to make sure I have enough retirement money”

Exemplar #3: M.

Complete Stats

Wing: 7 p or cp: largely phobic Instinct: sp/sx Trifix: 692 - 6w7 9w1 2w1 (Fortunately very much a “Good Samaritan” rather than “The Stockholm”) jungian: ISFP / SEI-Fi oldham: Sensitive & Devoted Essence Type: Lunar-Venus Temperament: Pure Supine

What she’s like:

Precious! Sweet, nice, good listener, friendly, gives all the best gifts. But also perceptive and good at understanding people, eg. mediating to the parents when one of the younger sisters is having An Emotion™ or winning the trust of problem children.

Unlike I. Who has some soc that helps her keep track of a larger circle of friends despite her introversion, M. tends to enjoy the closeness with her family and have just a few very close friends. Excellent friend material all around! The sx and Se also come out in enjoying art forms involving the body like theatre or dance.

She can be a bit shy, conflict-avoidant and occasionally a lil bit panicky though.

As a small kid she used to be super duper shy but then a wise english teacher encouraged her to play a big role in a play, and since then she’s a lot more confident and doesn’t let ppl push her around without limit, though she’s still a quiet, helpful person. There you see the difference that a good teacher can make.

How she’s a Type 6:

For one thing she moves and emotes faster than a core 9 would, and she fits the body language – big eyes that move around a lot, stands a bit lopsided, talks in a shrill voice on the rare occasions where we exhaust her patience etc. As a xSFx and a w7 she shows mostly the “warm, friendly, likeable” side of type 6. She also has a very 6-ish tendency to very frequently ask people’s opinions & feedback before making decisions. (the other fixes probably add to this)

Alas, she also has a little bit of of the fear/insecurity.

Also she has a social/care job which might be seen as 6-ish desire to serve the community.

Exemplar #4: J.

Complete Stats

Wing: 7 P or cp: largely counterphobic Instinct: sx/soc ?? definitely not sp first. Trifix: 638 - 6w7 3w4 8w9(?) (Shall she be a “Justice Fighter” or a “Kyle”? Only time will tell.) jungian: ISTP / LSI-Se ?? Oldham: ? some Dramatic & Serious, perhaps ? Essence Type: Definitely Mercury Temperament: San-Mel

What she’s like:

The first adjective that usually comes to my mind is ‘cool’. Sassy, energetic & a little bit tough, but also affectionate when she wants to be. (though in admiring way rather than a mushy one)

She says the coolest things, has a certain sly sort of cleverness, and an astonishly good poker face. Bit of an occasional prankster. Hilarious. Knows all sort of cool science facts. Avid gamer. 

Not especially popular or over the top sociable, but she gets sad if no one pays attention to her a while. Will act visibly moody where ppl can see sad or worried and can catastrophize a bit in such situations.

How she’s a Type 6:

I first though we might be getting an ExxP type 7 since she was a pretty energetic child, but once puberty hit and independent thought manifested, she turned out a whole lot too reactive and ‘edgy’ for this, and more on the ‘moderate introvert’ side of things.

Since then the sisterly dynamic has been like one fluffy golden dog and 3 hissing black cats. Hissing Cats #1 and #2 are very proud of her, but cat #1 was forced to conclude that she’s probably not a positive outlook type.

Out of all the reactive types 6 fits best because she does broadcast group identity (like wearing merchandise of her favorite media and wearing buttons in solidarity with ppl she likes.) & has a big case of Big Sibling worship for M, I, and someone else who isn’t on this list due to being a 9. (a 4 or 8 might like their older siblings but probably wouldn’t constantly stress the admiration.), but she can also show lasting, pouty displeasure with authority figures who have slighted her. (Like that one time I went too far in teasing her...)

I’m just assuming the 8 fix because that tends to make 6s more bold, louder & more shameless.

Basically she is the “punk teen” type of 6. She can be a bit dramatic & over-the top but still come to her family on advice (even advice on pranks!) in ways that xSTPs of other enneagrams prolly wouldn’t.

She also tends to use self-deprecating humor in tough situations and deflects compliments to present herself as ‘ordinary’.

...

This may sound like I’m really getting down on my first example (I won’t pretend that I’m not) but the point in bringing him up is that the reason he’s like this is: He was subject to really bad parenting that put a lot of fear into him, there was no good parenting to teach him broader coping strategies, he lived in a crappy environment that crushed his dreams, in a sense ‘confirming’ those fears and making him double down, resulting in a person who is just always rigidly following the same predictable pattern or jumping from one automatic reaction to the next with very little pausing and thinking. That goes for the other types too: A ‘stereotypical’ person is a desperate person ruled by fear, who cant stop or soften up even for an instant cause they constantly feel this fire of threat under their arse.

A lot of descriptions say that 6s ‘Follow authority’ but most would balk at the notion – ‘I do the research!’ they might argue ‘I don’t just trust anyone’ or ‘I’m actually a rebel’. There is of course such a thing as denial  that’s more like the extreme case.

But with a more average, functional 6 it’s not so much ‘obedience’ as that they just like to bounce their ideas off of others to get feedback, or that they feature in other’s viewpoints. So you might get someone who can naturally use feedback (something other ppl may have to learn first) or who is very considerate of others (which others might have to consciously remind themselves to do.)

Those are sometimes pretty good traits actually.

On the other hand this is probably part of what makes decisions hard cause they consider all these possible scenarios of how things might displease or cause harm to everyone involved.

Being able to naturally snap into Action Mode under stress looks a bit enviable from the outside, but I. assures me that it’s actually super stressful & exhausting, even for someone who doesn’t get to a point of just being unreasonably aggro at you.

Though even an extreme case like F.B. would probably claim that he ‘did the research’ even as he’s 1:1 quoting the Pope at you, and then saying that you ‘have to be respectful’ even if you don’t even believe in Christianity. Hence why you get a lot of authoritarians talking about “disrespect”. You didn’t “fail to obey”, you “disrespected the flag” or  “hurt the feelings of the Chinese people”. Because they’re still trying or inwardly thinking that they’re doing the consideritation & considering other’s PoV thing when they’ve long since crossed from respect and consideration into mindless obedience, all while still thinking that they’re very sceptical and discerning cause after all they really distrust the other political party or whatever.  

In a way you get this obsession with ‘mind control’ cause they’re not unaware of & very much looking to guard the blind spot. They’re adults trying to do adult things.

For example, if I voiced an opinion to F. B. which he didn’t like, his reaction was often to ask “who told you that”

That’s just how he seems to think opinions work, somebody tells them to you.

Makes one wonder how he thinks new opinions start.

Yeah - Nobody told me that. I concocted it myself in some corner of my head. And in the interest of objectivity, I should stress that you can also end talking out of your ass that way, if you’re not basing it on enough outside data. Making up new shit has more of a quadratic than a linear learning curve – at least with copying you get something semi-useful right away. In making up your own you might be really off a long time before you stumble on something useful.

Also, I was young at the time and it’s not wholly unreasobale to think that an inexperienced person might be duped. I reacted really badly in part cause he hit my own ego buttons cause I was of course proud of this epiphany that I had concocted by myself, and now he says (or so I perceived it, being sensitive to accusations of incompetence) that I’m too dumb to form an opinion, so of course I launched into full Obnoxious Reddit Dude Mode.

In I. It manifests more on a reasonable useful level like “Oh wait, should [young cousin] be on TikTok? I don’t want him to get sucked into some cultish BS.” which is at least something the parents should have on the radar/ warn him about even if they do let him use TikTok, because for all that it is vital for him to get his experience with independent socializing & experimentig with sel-presentation, people do sometimes get suckered into cults or goaded into unsafe tests of courage.

And in a sense… maybe they overamphasize it but to some extent they’re also simply consciously aware/ mindful of it. The rest of us are not immune to propaganda after all, solong as it’s presented in a way pleasing to our egos. Any type structure can become a ‘hook’ if you’re not careful.

#enneagram #enneagram 6 #ennea 6 #6w5 #6w7