#// rules have been updated with some small changes
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
001. ⸻ Writing and artwork on this blog may contain mature and potentially triggering themes such as canon-typical gore and violence, body horror as well as mentions of abuse & depression. In most cases, posts will be tagged accordingly and nothing will be too graphic. However, as I have no triggers myself I'm often unsure of what warrants a tag and what does not. Please do reach out and let me know if I forgot to tag something you think should have been tagged. Mortal Kombat is not a game for the faint hearted so do proceed with caution if any of the above mentioned topics are triggering to you. Only follow & interact if you're 21+.
002. ⸻ I'm an adult with responsibilities and a job outside of writing, I might sometimes take a day or two to respond to you. Please be aware of that and don't assume I'm ignoring you. I'm doing my best to get back to everyone and I apologize if responses sometimes take longer. Lately, I've also been struggling with various health issues so it might even take me up to a week or more to get back to you. As long as you don't spam me, please feel free to sometimes send me reminders if I haven't responded to our thread in a while. I'm a human and I also tend to forget things sometimes.
003. ⸻ English is not my first language. While I'd like to think I have pretty decent grammar, I might make mistakes sometimes, especially when it comes to correct punctuation as it is vastly different from that of my native language. Please be patient with me, I'm trying my best.
004. ⸻ I use small text to write, but I don't mind switching to the regular text size for better accessibility. Just let me know ahead and I'll make sure to adjust the text size for my posts accordingly. I also use icons and graphics in my posts and occasionally colorful text for highlighting.
005. ⸻ This blog is crossover friendly and open to writing with original characters. With all the different timelines existing in the Mortal Kombat universe, the possibilites to craft unique stories are pretty much endless. Don't be afraid to reach out if you have a cool plot idea, I would love to hear it.
006. ⸻ I feel like this should be self-explanatory, but no godmodding, no taking control of my character or anything of the likes. It's very annoying and it will take away my enthusiasm to continue writing with you.
007. ⸻ I'm above engaging in petty drama with anyone on here, I made this blog to write for my favorite character and for no other reason. I can't stand negativity and toxicity. If I see you being rude to others, spreading hate or even bullying other people in the community, I will instantly block you. If you have a problem with me, feel free to reach out to me so we can have a civil conversation about it.
008. ⸻ Please be aware that my portrayal of MK1!Bi-Han is not 100% canon-accurate. While I tried to make as little changes to the character's personality and backstory as possible, some aspects of him will be based on my own headcanons. The writing for him in MK1 is annoyingly inconsistent, contradicts itself on multiple occasions and sometimes even makes no sense at all, so I won't be adopting much of it into my portrayal. Do not expect me to write Bi-Han as a one-dimensional joke villain just because ❛ it's canon ❜ in the current timeline. If that's the portrayal you're looking for, you might want to look for someone else to write with. That said, this blog will feature different versions of Bi-Han from different timelines, so please do specify the timeline you'd prefer for the plot to be set in. For now I only write Bi-Han as Sub-Zero and I haven't decided on whether or not Noob Saibot will become a secondary muse on this blog yet, but it's well within the realm of possibilities.
009. ⸻ I do not condone hate, homophobia, racism or anything of the sorts and if I see someone partaking in such problematic behavior that will warrant an instant block.
010. ⸻ Personally, I'm not the biggest fan of writing romance plots, I don't have any preferred ships for Bi-Han and I don't see that changing anytime soon. I just don't see Bi-Han as someone who's particularly interested in romance or relationships. Depending on how his character develops in the current timeline, that might change in the future. If I do feel like our characters have chemistry, I won't be opposed to shipping, but I will let you know ahead that I do not write smut.
011. ⸻ Feel free to drop random starters in my inbox, send me asks ic or ooc if you feel like interacting with me and keep in mind that inbox calls and starter calls as well as memes don't expire ! Even if the posts are old, you can still interact with them and I will get back to you.
012. ⸻ I don't have a preferred length for replies, I usually try to match the length of my responses to that of my writing partners, but please don't feel obligated to do the same.
013. ⸻ Where to find me: I'm mostly active on Tumblr, but if we're mutuals, you can ask for my discord as well. I can also be found on my secondary blog @shiraiflame.
014. ⸻ Lastly, if you have further questions, feel free to send me a message at any time.
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
orphic; (adj.) mysterious and entrancing, beyond ordinary understanding. ─── 006. the phenomenologist.
-> summary: when you, a final-year student at the grove, get assigned to study under anaxagoras—one of the legendary seven sages—you know things are about to get interesting. but as the weeks go by, the line between correlation and causation starts to blur, and the more time you spend with professor anaxagoras, the more drawn to him you become in ways you never expected. the rules of the academy are clear, and the risks are an unfortunate possibility, but curiosity is a dangerous thing. and maybe, just maybe, some risks are worth taking. after all, isn’t every great discovery just a leap of faith? -> pairing: anaxa x gn!reader. -> tropes: professor x student, slow burn, forbidden romance. -> wc: 4.4k -> warnings: potential hsr spoilers from TB mission: "Light Slips the Gate, Shadow Greets the Throne" (3.1 update). main character is written to be 21+ years of age, at the very least. (anaxa is written to be around 26-27 years of age.) swearing, mature themes, suggestive content.
-> a/n: they exchange emails. i repeat. they exchange. emails!!! potential double update because the next part is 80% finished, hehe <3 i also wrote this chapter when i was on painkillers (and i still man) so if i sound like a DUMBASS in some parts i. it was not on purpose i swear. -> prev. || next. -> orphic; the masterlist.
Lunchtime rush has taken over the cafeteria. You sit tucked into a corner with Kira and Ilias, your tray pushed halfway aside, your drink sweating onto the wood between you.
Kira’s been nursing her tea for the past ten minutes, eyes half-closed, listening more than speaking. Her food sits untouched. Ilias, meanwhile, is attacking his fries like they insulted his ancestors. There’s a kind of intensity to it—surgical, almost reverent.
“Did they change the oil in these?” he mutters. “They taste like shit.”
You glance at him. “Then stop eating them?”
“Don’t tell me how to process pain.”
Kira snorts.
A clatter near the door draws your attention—trays, muffled apologies, the scuffle of shoes against tile. You glance over. Mydei and Phainon stand just inside, scanning the crowded room with the mild disappointment of people who’ve made peace with the fact that they’re not going to find a quiet spot.
There are no empty tables left.
Mydei catches your eye first. His gaze holds yours, half a question in it. Before you can think better of it, you lift your hand slightly in a wave and gesture to the open space on the bench beside you.
“There’s space here,” you say.
Phainon perks up like a dog hearing its leash jingle. He nudges Mydei forward with the edge of his tray, clearly done pretending to be patient.
“You’re sure?” Mydei asks, already sliding toward the end of the bench without waiting for a response.
Kira shifts slightly to make room, offering Mydei a small smile. “You’re not usually out here.”
You glance between them. “You guys know each other?”
“We share a class,” Phainon says, almost too quickly. “Philosophy.”
“Oh,” you say. “That sounds… interesting.”
Kira stifles a laugh, shrugging. “It’s not that bad. Once you get past the dread.”
“We had to spend an entire week arguing whether perception is a primary act or a constructed one,” Mydei adds, glancing up. “Phainon wrote his midterms in poetic verse.”
“He rhymed ‘intentionality’ with ‘banality,’” Kira says.
“And you gave it a B,” he points out.
“She peer-reviewed it,” Mydei says, jerking her chin toward Kira.
You blink. “Wait—students grade each other?”
Kira nods, twirling the packet between her fingers. “Sometimes. It’s part of the methodology. Subjectivity and all that.”
“That sounds fake.”
“No, ontology sounds fake,” Phainon says without missing a beat.
“They sit behind me,” Kira says, “and keep having whispered debates over whether Merleau-Ponty would’ve survived group work.”
“He wouldn’t have,” Phainon says, solemn.
Mydei picks at the corner of his sandwich. “He might’ve thrived.”
You raise an eyebrow. “And you don’t mind them talking behind you?”
Kira shrugs. “I correct them when they’re wrong.”
“He finds it sport,” Mydei murmurs, flicking his straw wrapper at Phainon.
“I would die for neither of them,” Kira adds after a moment, “but I would cite them.”
“High praise,” Phainon murmurs, looking genuinely touched.
There’s a beat of quiet, the kind that usually signals someone’s about to break into a joke—except Ilias doesn’t. He’s staring at Kira like she’s hung up the moon, eyes soft, brow faintly furrowed in something like awe.
You glance at him, then back at her. She’s busy poking at the ice in her drink, oblivious.
“Oh my god,” you mutter under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear. “You’re hypnotized.”
“I am not,” he says, way too quickly.
You raise an eyebrow.
“I’m… admiring her academic rigor,” he adds weakly.
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
Ilias groans and hides behind the menu. Kira, still completely unaware, crunches a piece of ice and asks if anyone wants to split dessert.
You're about to say yes, please, when a shadow falls across the table.
A flicker of awareness down your spine. Some instinctive ripple that tenses your shoulders before your mind even catches up.
You feel it before you see him.
Your head turns—too fast, on reflex. Eyes already landing on the figure passing between tables.
Professor Anaxagoras.
Your heart kicks once, too high in your chest. He’s not in his usual long coat. His sleeves are rolled to the elbow, collar slightly open, and the book in his arm looks worn at the edges. The woman walking beside him—elegant, composed, and unknown to you—matches his stride like they’ve been walking in step for years.
She moves like a dream you only half-remember—gliding by his side, wrapped in soft earth-toned fabric that shimmers faintly when the light catches it, like morning mist through tree branches. Her voice, low and melodic, curls around her shoulders, spilling down her back in lazy waves, pinned with something that’s shaped suspiciously like gold-tipped antlers, and her scent—something like old paper and wildflowers—lingers long after she’s gone. There’s a stillness to her, a gravity that pulls your attention without ever asking for it. She doesn’t need to raise her voice or call for silence—she could just look up, and the room would fall into reverent hush. And when her mouth moves, you almost forget that she—
Ilias lets out a low whistle under his breath, not loud, but pointed. “Damn.” Kira glares at him.
You don’t respond. Can’t, for a moment.
Anaxagoras walks past without pausing, the conversation between him and the woman low and self-contained. You catch a word or two—nothing sharp, nothing you could hold on to.
“Who was that?” Kira murmurs, eyes still following their backs.
Phainon, who hadn’t seemed particularly alert, straightens faintly. “Cerces,” he says, tone low but certain. “She used to guest lecture. Phenomenology.”
Mydei doesn’t look up. “She was supposed to take a position here last year. Didn’t.”
It starts like a pinprick, something almost too small to name.
You glance toward the table where they’ve just sat—tucked near the back, partially shielded by a wooden column.
She’s speaking, but her tone is too quiet, and Anaxagoras doesn’t look like he’s listening, so much as… enduring.
A slight shifting in your chest, a tensing in your jaw. Your gaze drifts—too often, too long—toward the corner table where Anaxagoras sits with her. Cerces.
Kira murmurs. “Are they… friends?”
“Not unless you count hostility as a form of bonding,” Mydei says without looking up.
“They hate each other?” Ilias asks.
“They disagree on principle,” Mydei replies. “She called his lecture on spatial memory ‘a diluted myth disguised as hypothesis’ once.”
Phainon lifts his head slightly, blinking at the table. “Is that not flirting?”
You give him a look.
Ilias snorts at your reaction.
Phainon shrugs, resting his head on his arms again. “Just saying.”
Anaxagoras isn’t smiling. Cerces never does, apparently.
You glance back over to the corner booth, where Anaxagoras and Cerces are still sitting, barely exchanging words but clearly in some sort of intense standoff. She speaks with measured precision, and Anaxagoras listens—almost too intently.
Like he’s hanging on her every word.
For some reason, you can’t stop looking. You’re not sure why, but something about it bothers you. Anaxagoras, as unreachable as he is, sitting with someone else like that—it doesn’t sit well.
(Why doesn’t it sit well?)
You don’t even notice how your gaze hardens until Ilias speaks up.
“I thought you were the only one he bantered with,” he says suggestively, though there’s a sharp edge to his voice. It’s off-hand, but the tone feels pointed.
You snap your attention back to him, eyes flicking to Ilias, then to Kira, and finally to Mydei, who’s still half-focused on his andwich. It’s not what he says—it’s how it feels, like he’s digging his finger into a gaping wound in your chest.
“What?” you say, the word coming out a little more defensive than you’d like. "What do you mean?"
Ilias raises an eyebrow, eyes gleaming with a bit of mischief, but he looks like he’s holding back a comment. “Oh, nothing. Just that—well, I thought it was kind of your thing with him, y’know?”
Logically, of course, it’s not just you. It never was. Anaxagoras is a professor, and a professional one at that. He interacts with plenty of people. You were never the only one. But why does it bother you so much now? Why does seeing him there with Cerces feel like something you were supposed to have? Hell, you’ve only been his student for a couple weeks.
Then, from behind you, Phainon’s voice breaks the silence, casually chiming in. “You know, you and Anaxagoras would be a good match.”
Your head snaps around to him, eyes wide, caught completely off guard. You try to catch your breath, but your heart suddenly seems to be beating a little too fast. What did he mean by that? The words feel heavy in your chest, but you can’t quite explain why. You shake your head, trying to brush it off, but you can’t stop the small pang of unease that bubbles up.
Mydei, sitting beside Phainon, glances at him sharply, narrowing his eyes, but the clueless guy keeps munching on his food, completely unaware.
Ilias brightens. “That’s what I’ve been saying!”
Kira, meanwhile, shifts in her seat, a thoughtful smirk pulling at the corners of her lips. “I can see it, actually,” she says, leaning toward you and giving you a look that’s half-encouraging, half-teasing. “You two would have that whole academic rivalry thing going on. Very couple energy.”
Her smirk grows as she watches you react. The comment is light, but you can feel the sting of it.
And of course, Ilias adds to it. His grin is too wide, too knowing. “Late-night debates and discussions on the meaning of the universe... sounds like a dream weekend to me.”
Your pulse picks up speed at the thought, and suddenly, you’re on edge, wondering why this is even a thing now. Your mind races with thoughts that you can’t quiet: why is it bothering you? Why is it bothering you this much?
Is it bothering you?
You shift in your seat, trying to keep your face neutral, but the flush creeping up your neck betrays you. “It’s not like that,” you mutter, your words defensive, even to your own ears. You don’t know why you feel so worked up.
Ilias notices the shift in your tone, the subtle defensiveness in your voice. His grin widens, and he leans forward, clearly enjoying the discomfort he’s stirred up.
You’re too aware of the heat rising in your face. “I’m not—” you snap, perhaps a little too sharply. “You’re being illogical. We’re students, he’s a professor. Our professor. And he’s not even my type—”
Ilias, clearly enjoying this, leans back in his seat with a dramatic flourish, one hand raised as if making a grand announcement. “You know,” he says, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, “I think I’ve figured it out.”
You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Figured what out?”
“You.” He pauses, letting the words hang in the air for just a moment, before leaning in closer, his grin mischievous. “I don’t think it’s Professor Anaxagoras himself. Oh no, no, no. You’ve fallen victim to something far worse.”
You cross your arms, giving him an exasperated look, but choosing to play along. “And that is?”
“You’ve fallen for his mind,” Ilias says, lowering his voice as if he’s revealing some deep, untold secret. “That black hole of academia. The more you resist, the more it pulls you in. You, my friend, are powerless against the seductive pull of his— of his lectures!” He pauses for dramatic effect, letting the silence linger. “It’s inevitable. You’re already caught in his gravitational field.”
You roll your eyes, trying to keep a straight face, but it’s hard when he looks so pleased with himself. “Ilias, you really need to stop watching sci-fi movies. You’re starting to sound like—”
He ignores you, continuing on in full dramatic flair. “I’m telling you, it’s like you’re destined for this. Like some tragic hero—fated to fall for the untouchable professor.”
You squint at him. “Ilias—”
“Star-crossed lovers, of course that’s what you are.” He raises his hand dramatically, as if making a proclamation. “The one who must suffer in silence, tortured by their own growing attraction while the object of their affection remains completely oblivious!”
You stare at him, half-annoyed, half-amused. “Okay, Romeo, calm down. I’m not falling for anyone, especially not Anaxagoras. He’s our professor.”
“Oh, please,” Ilias scoffs, flipping his fries around on his plate. “That’s the classic denial phase. It’s always like this. First, it’s ‘He’s a professor, this isn’t real,’ and then it’s ‘Oh no, I’m just interested in his intellectual prowess.’ And the next thing you know, you’re writing him anonymous love ;letters about the meaning of life.”
You choke on your drink. “What?!”
Ilias leans back smugly, clearly relishing your reaction. “That’s the part I’m really looking forward to,” he says, completely unbothered by the chaos he’s creating. “The dramatic confessions of forbidden love. You’ll be at the front of the lecture hall, staring at him with those eyes—the ones you don’t even realize you’re doing—until one day, you slip and—bam!—an accidental ‘—Because I love you!’ in the middle of a class discussion.”
You nearly spit your drink out at the absurdity of it all. “Oh my God, Ilias, shut up. That is not—”
“Oh, it will happen,” he says confidently, nodding like he’s just cracked the code of your life. “I can see it now. ‘Professor Anaxagoras, I can’t live without your...philosophical insights...’"
Your face burns even more now, and you throw a napkin at him. “You are insufferable.”
Ilias catches it mid-air and theatrically wipes his brow, pretending to be exhausted by the sheer drama of his own predictions. “Oh, I know. But it’s all part of my genius,” he says smugly. “You’ll thank me when you end up in a tangled, academic love triangle involving forgotten artifacts and ancient texts.”
You roll your eyes, trying not to smile. “Not gonna happen.”
“You say that now,” he says with a smirk. “But I’ll be here when it all goes down. You’ll come crawling to me for advice on how to handle the tension.”
You eyes automatically glance over at the table where Anaxagoras and Cerces are still sitting, and without meaning to, your stomach tightens just a little.
Ilias notices the shift in your expression immediately, his grin widening again. “Oh! What’s this? A little moment of clarity? I can feel it! Your heart’s racing, isn’t it?”
“No,” you mutter, looking away quickly, but the playful glint in his eyes makes you want to strangle him.
“You can’t hide it forever, my friend,” he says, tapping his finger against the table. “The romance is coming. The fated love between the professor and the student, like something out of a tragic novel. And when it happens? Oh, I’ll be the first to say ‘I told you so.’”
Kira, who’s been quietly listening to the whole exchange, smiles at Ilias in that quiet, amused way she does. For a moment, her eyes are soft, entranced by his antics.
Ilias doesn’t notice, of course. He’s too busy reveling in the thought of his own brilliance. “And when you’re finally ready to confess, I’ll be there. Right behind you, cheering you on. I’ll be your emotional support coach. Don’t worry.”
You groan, slumping forward. “Please stop.”
“Fine, fine.” Ilias leans back, clearly not done but pretending to be. “But you know the truth, deep down.” He lowers his voice to a whisper again. “You’re already halfway there. And when the sparks fly... don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You fight to keep the smile off your face, but it’s impossible. “You’re unbelievable.”
Phainon, who’s been slumped halfway over his tray like a cat napping in a sunbeam, lifts his head at last, amused. He says lazily, “Ilias managed to build an entire three-act tragedy in the time it took me to finish my sandwich. I’m surprised.”
“Don’t encourage him,” you say flatly.
Phainon ignores you. “So what’s the title? Ode to a Lecture Hall Affair? Or A Treatise on Yearning, Featuring Poor Life Choices?”
“I like that second one,” Mydei says, without looking up. “Could be a bestseller if it comes with footnotes.”
Ilias snaps his fingers at both of them. “Finally. Some cultured taste.”
“You’re literally projecting an academic romance onto the person least likely to pursue such a thing.” Mydei deadpans, still not looking up.
“That’s how all the best ones start,” Ilias says with a wink. “Tragic self-denial. Emotional repression. That’s the good stuff. You think I want this story to be healthy?”
Phainon tilts his head at you, tone suddenly a little too calm. “So. Do you like Naxie?”
You nearly choke. “What?! No— …N- Naxie?”
“Mm,” Phainon hums, as if making a mental note, completely ignoring the question in your tone. “That sounded like a lie.”
You sit up straighter, voice too quick. “It’s not a lie. I don’t have feelings for him.”
Ilias finally looks up with a beaming smile. “You only get that loud when you're trying to convince someone, and in this case, it is yourself!”
“I am not loud,” you snap. “And I am not trying to convince myself of anything. There is nothing to convince myself of.”
“You’re so flustered right now it’s almost poetic,” Ilias says, grinning ear to ear. “Like watching tower of logic collapse in real time. It’s beautiful.”
Mydei hums thoughtfully. “I wonder what Anaxagoras would say if he heard this.”
You freeze, throwing your head back to look at his table.
Kira bites back a laugh. Ilias gasps dramatically.
“Oh please,” he says, clutching his chest like he’s just been shot. “If he heard this? He’d probably just blink in ancient Greek and then spend fifteen minutes dissecting the philosophical implications of desire as a failed mode of cognition.”
Phainon wheezes, practically howls at that, “And- and he’d do the thing,” he adds, his voice breathless, “Where he raises an eyebrow and smirks at you and then pauses for exactly four seconds.”
Kira giggles quietly. Ilias points like he’s struck gold, practically screams— “Exactly! The pause! The man weaponizes silence like it’s part of the syllabus.”
As if on cue, from the other side of the room, Anaxagoras shifts slightly in his seat—one subtle glance cast toward your table, recognizing the voice. Not long. Just a flicker of movement, but it’s enough. His eyes land on Ilias—still half-mid-monologue—then slide to you.
He nods in acknowledgement.
You nod back.
He smirks.
And looks away.
Cerces doesn’t glance over. She sits serene and unaffected, like her presence was never meant to interact with the world around her.
You’re too aware of the sharp prickle under your skin. You feel wrecked, utterly wrecked, even after he looks away.
Ilias notices. Of course he does.
Your eyes widen at his face, and you contemplate dragging his drama-ridden soul into the nearest chalk circle and trapping him there with nothing but an introductory ethics textbook and a looping recording of Anaxagoras’ driest lecture on epistemological drift.
Or maybe you'd just pin him to a whiteboard and force him to define “romantic projection” in front of the class while Kira holds up increasingly incriminating flashcards titled Things You’ve Said Out Loud.
“You’re not even subtle,” you mutter, eyeing him like you’re mentally selecting a power drill.
Ilias grins, unbothered. “Subtlety is for people who don’t have prophetic insight.”
“You’re a menace.”
“I’m a visionary,” he corrects, reaching for another fry with the smugness of someone who just cast a match into a very flammable bush.
You make a low noise, possibly a groan, possibly the sound of his spirit exiting his body. “If you keep talking,” you say without lifting your head, “I will hex your shoes to squeak every third step.”
“I’ll do it,” Mydei says.
Ilias throws his hands up. “You’re all just mad because I’m right.”
You glare at him. “I’m mad because you’re loud.”
Ilias points at you like he’s presenting a final thesis. “And yet—flushed cheeks. Shifty glances. Heightened vocal pitch.” He sets his hands down with finality, attitude dripping in his gaze. “The data is there. I’m merely analyzing it.”
Kira sips from her drink with the serene expression of someone watching a documentary on slow-burning disasters. “I think you should be very afraid,” she tells him lightly, smiling. “I think they’re planning your downfall.”
“Please,” Ilias says, waving a hand. “If they wanted me gone, I’d already be framed for something weirdly specific.” He raises his voice for the rest of the table, almost announcing, “Don’t be surprised if I wake up one morning and am suddenly framed for impersonating a tenured professor in order to smuggle a haunted relic into the archives!”
Before Ilias can spiral into another dramatic reenactment of his imaginary academic crimes, a quiet hush rolls over the table.
You look up.
Professor Anaxagoras.
He stands just behind Ilias, hands folded neatly behind his back, a ghost of amusement curling at the corner of his mouth like he’d been standing there long enough to hear something he shouldn’t have. His gaze flicks briefly over the group, then settles on you—warm, sharp, and startlingly direct.
“I must admit,” he says lightly, voice like dry parchment curling in a fireplace, “that’s disturbingly plausible.”
Kira makes a sound—half choke, half squeak—and Ilias nearly drops his drink. Mydei straightens just slightly. Phainon blinks up at Anaxagoras like he’s not entirely convinced he’s real.
You forget how to breathe.
Anaxagoras raises an eyebrow at you in mild inquiry. “When are you turning in your application?”
Your confusion must show, because his brow lifts just a fraction higher, something unreadable flickering in his expression. He waits.
You blink. “I’m not applying. Professor.”
It’s quiet for a beat too long.
His eyes widen—only slightly, but enough to notice. Then something more subtle shifts in his expression, as if the air around him has rearranged itself. He tilts his head, his gaze narrowing just a fraction. Then—unexpectedly—he smiles.
Not the cold, amused smile he offers to half-baked arguments in lecture, or the small polite one he reserves for administrative nonsense.
This one feels different. Quiet. Introspective. Like you’ve said something that has genuinely surprised him.
“Would you excuse us for a moment?” he says, addressing the table but looking only at you. “A word.”
Kira glances at you, and Ilias makes a dramatic slicing motion across his throat like he’s already composing your eulogy. Phainon props his chin on his hands, watching with all the intensity of a wildlife observer about to witness a rare predator interaction.
Your heart kicks up hard, then stumbles.
You stand slowly.
“Sure,” you say, not sure at all.
Anaxagoras steps aside, letting you pass, his presence folding into the space beside you with such unassuming weight that the rest of the world suddenly feels quiet.
Behind you, Ilias mutters, “He pulled the ‘a word’ move! I’m going to eat this fry solemnly, in case it’s the last one I ever share with them.”
Kira shushes him with a swat.
You walk just a few paces before he speaks, voice low and deliberate.
“You’re not applying,” he repeats. Not a question. A repetition for clarity. For the sake of confirming it aloud.
“No,” you say softly. “I’m not. I was never going to.”
That gets his attention. His eyes cut back to you, something almost imperceptibly shifting in his posture. “No?”
“Studies on consciousness isn’t my field of study,” you say, level. “And I’m not interested in pretending it is for the sake of a symposium.”
He considers that, expression unreadable. “A reasonable position. If a narrow one.”
You raise an eyebrow at that. “I’m not sure being selective with my time is narrow.”
“Selective,” he echoes mildly. “Or avoidant?”
You exhale through your nose. “I just don’t see the value in wasting my time on something I don't care about in a symposium I don’t want to attend.”
He tilts his head. “Cerces is one of the most rigorous thinkers in the field. Even those outside her discipline benefit from her lens.”
You squint at him, not bothering to mask the skepticism in your tone. “I thought you didn’t agree with her methods.”
There’s the briefest pause, the lightest shift in his expression. Then, without missing a beat:
“Disagreement doesn’t preclude respect.”
“Right,” you say flatly. “That’s what everyone says about their academic rivals.”
His mouth twitches at that—barely. “Have you been reading up on me?”
You blink, caught off guard by the shift in tone. His voice is playful—but there’s a glint of challenge there. You recover fast.
“No,” you say, a little too quickly. “One of her students brought it up. Just now. In passing.” You clear your throat, glance away, and add on awkwardly, “—Professor.”
He doesn’t comment. Just watches you with an amused glint in his eyes.
“You might change your mind,” he pauses, “I’d like you to read a few papers.” He says with a finality.
You cross your arms. “You’re suggesting I read Cerces?”
“I’m suggesting, you examine the argument before rejecting the premise.” He lets the words settle for a beat. “I will send you a couple. You can draw your own conclusions.”
There’s a pause. One breath. Two.
You hesitate. “Fine.”
“I’ll need your email.”
You rattle it off without looking at him, the syllables falling out in practiced order, a thin attempt at professionalism. He offers his phone without a word, calm and unreadable, and you take it before you can think twice.
You type—carefully, trying not to fumble—but your pulse stutters anyway.
When you hand it back, his fingers brush yours.
Barely. A blink. A breath.
But it jolts through you like static, immediate and stupidly vivid. You freeze, absurdly aware of how warm his hand is, how close his attention suddenly feels even though he’s barely moved.
It was nothing. Just skin.
But your brain short-circuits like it’s something else entirely, and now you’re hyper aware of everything—the silence, the distance between you, the way your stomach tightens for no logical reason whatsoever.
You don’t look at him. You refuse to look at him.
He takes the phone back, and his voice is quiet. “I’ll forward them tonight.”
You nod, hoping he doesn’t notice how tense your shoulders are. “Okay,” you say, and your voice comes out a little too soft.
You hate how your face feels warm.
“Thanks.”
He gives you a sharp nod, turning back already.
His eyes flick back to you once—just once—before he returns to the booth, slipping back into the conversation with Cerces like nothing ever happened.
You stay where you are, steadying your breath.
What the hell?
-> next.
taglist: @starglitterz @kazumist @naraven @cozyunderworld @pinksaiyans @pearlm00n @your-sleeparalysisdem0n @francisnyx @qwnelisa @chessitune @leafythat @cursedneuvillette @hanakokunzz @nellqzz @ladymothbeth @chokifandom @yourfavouritecitizen @sugarlol12345 @aspiring-bookworm @kad0o @yourfavoritefreakyhan @mavuika-marquez @fellow-anime-weeb927 @beateater @bothsacredanddust @acrylicxu @average-scara-fan @pinkytoxichearts @amorismujica @sandwichkun
(send an ask or comment to be added!)
#❅ — works !#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x gn reader#hsr x reader#anaxa x reader#hsr anaxa#hsr anaxagoras#anaxagoras x reader#hi hi if i missed adding anyone on the taglist i am so sorry i js realised i forgot to add one of u on the prev update :") augh im so.
229 notes
·
View notes
Text









BEKKATHYST Autumn 2023 Giveaway!
~This giveaway is in no way affiliated with Tumblr.~
Please read thoroughly before entering!
Hello lovely Tumblr folk! It’s that time again- I have a giveaway for you all. 💜
We have an online store that could use your support!
You can also find us on Instagram.
About us: My business is a small, family-run establishment that I started here on Tumblr in 2013. I’ve been lucky enough to grow to the point where this supports me, my partner, and our daughter. In the US we also had a brick-and-mortar shop in which I employed my mom and a few of my siblings. However, we closed it to be able to move to Austria, my home country! 💜 I strive to put compassion and ethics above all else in my business, and I hope that shines through. We have a website but also run many fun sales directly here on Tumblr!
This giveaway will have two winners.
What the first winner receives:
All the pictured crystals, plus a $100 gift card that can be used for our online store or our Tumblr sales. Pictured crystals: rose quartz freeform, nellite sphere with stand, kambaba jasper sphere with stand, purple labradorite freeform, silver moonstone freeform, polished chevron amethyst, thullite sphere, lizardite sphere, Mongolian black quartz crystal, amethyst rainbow amethyst druzy cut base, blue labradorite pebble, and a polished amethyst point. I wanted to pick some more unique stones for this giveaway!
What the second winner receives:
A $50 gift card that can be used for our online store or Tumblr sales!
Rules:
You must be 16 or older. (If under 18 you MUST have parent’s permission)
You can be from anywhere in the world! I am shipping from Austria.
Shipping is entirely free, I will cover it. But if you live in a country that charges import tax on gifts, you are responsible for it. If it gets sent back to me, you will need to pay shipping to have it sent again.
You must be following me, so you can get updates if anything about the giveaway changes.
Please check out our online shop!
Reblog this post to enter. Likes count as additional entries. No giveaway or spam blogs. If you reblog on a side blog, let me know in the tags what the name of your blog is that you’re following me with.
At the end, each entry will be assigned a number and the winner will be chosen by a random number generator.
The giveaway ends on December 20th, 2023.
The winners will be messaged and must respond with their full name and address within 24 hours, or a new winner will be chosen.
Please respect me and my rules, and have fun!
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Jack of Hearts
Chishiya Shuntaro x Reader x Niragi Suguru.
(It's finally here. I am so sorry for the long wait, and I am praying this is worth the wait. I'm hoping it lives up to expectations. Please enjoy and have fun reading.
Masterlist. Progress Update. Love Line Collection.
Summary: Niragi, you and Chishiya play the Jack of Hearts game.
After being separated from Arisu, Kuina, Usagi, Ann and Tatta during the King of Spades games, you, Chishiya and Niragi had found a place to hide. It was a moment for the three of you to breathe. During your time hiding, you discussed where to go next. Niragi originally wanted to go to the King of Clubs, but Chishiya felt a pull to the Jack of Hearts. With you being the deciding vote, the three of you made your way to the Jack of Hearts game, promising to join the King of Clubs game if no one had beaten it by the time you were done.
The three of you arrived at the prison and walked inside. Some collars on a table greeted you. You each took one and put it on. You shivered as it clicked into place. You hated this already. The three of you made your way to the central guardroom. On your way there, a noise came from one of the cells. Niragi let out a snort as you blushed. “Oh, good lord.” Chishiya smirked.
“You know, we could always find a cell of our own and have some fun before the game.” Niragi suggested with a grin on his face. As much as you may have liked the idea, now wasn’t the time. “Don’t you think of anything else?” Chishiya asked, his hands in his pockets, turning to face Niragi. Niragi scoffed at him. “Don’t be like that. It’s good to let off some steam.” Niragi countered. You let out a soft sigh. “After the game, sure. But for now, let’s focus.” You said, and with that, the three of you continued to walk. Inside the guardroom area were a few people. Chichiya leant against a wall. You stood beside him, taking in your surroundings. Niragi stood slightly in front of the two of you. The three of you were there for a while. Watching as more people arrived. Then, finally, the final player appeared. Chishiya let out a small sigh.
“Difficulty level, Jack of Hearts.” “Game, Solitary Confinement.” “Rules: Guess the car suit that appears on the back of your collar. However, you may not look at the symbol yourself.”
“I can’t see anything.” A woman on the opposite side of the room spoke as she and everyone else pulled and felt their collars. A woman near her walked over, attempting to look at the collar.
“The time limit is one hour per round. In the final five minutes, enter your cell and disclose your symbol.”
The lights came on, showing the endless number of hallways where all the cells were. You bit your bottom lip softly. Thank the heavens you had two people you trusted with everything you had. Or else, you fear you would have been doomed.
“If you do not answer with the correct symbol, it is game over. The collar will explode, and you will die. Additionally, when the time limit reaches zero, the symbol on the collar will reset and change for each round.”
“Wait a sec. So that means we just have to ask each other what our symbols are.” A voice came close to where the three of you were stranded. “That’s easy.” He nodded as he turned to look at Chishiya, who was still leaning against the wall.
“I’m not so sure.” The blonde spoke. “They haven’t told us what the conditions to win are yet.”
“The Solitary confinement game is about how much you can trust your fellow players. Be aware that your opponent, the Jack of Hearts, has already been placed among you.”
“Oh. That’s good.” Chishiya spoke, causing you to look at him. You could see he was intrigued with this game. You looked over at Niragi, who simply shrugged at you. He had no worries. He trusted you both. He knew the three of you were walking out of this place alive and together.
“So one of us is the Jack of Hearts?” A random man asked.
“How to win: Rounds repeat every hour. You win the game when the Jack of Hearts dies.” “Prohibited actions: Looking at your symbol with a reflective surface is cheating. Players may not use weapons or violence to kill fellow players.”
That made Niragi scoff. So he couldn’t use his gun? Typical. “Seriously?” He asked as he let out a tut. “This means that the only way this game will ever end is if the Jack gives the wrong answer,” Chisyia stated. You and Niragi looked at him. “No one here is getting out alive, unless they lie to the Jack.”
“There is no limit to the number of rounds. Enough food has been provided. While participating in this game, no days will be removed from your visas.”
Chishiya nodded as he took in the words. “So we need to start lying, find the Jack of Hearts, and kill them off, or we’ll live out the rest of our days in this prison. Solitary for life.”
You shook your head gently. “No, thank you.” You didn’t like the idea of being in solitary for life.
“The game will now commence.”“You can roam freely until it is time to enter your cell.”
Everyone stayed still for a moment before people started to couple up and form groups. “So, the 22 of us need to eliminate each other. Until we somehow figure out who the Jack of Hearts is. What makes you think anyone is trustworthy?” A man in a suit spoke, unsettling everyone.
Slowly, the players all went their different ways. However, you, Chishiya and Niragi stayed where you were.
“Hey, wanna tell each other the answer?” A man in a yellow shirt, Ippei asked, walking closer to Chishiya. “If you’re trying to survive, I would examine all the people here a little more carefully. Make sure you keep the ones who don’t lie close. For all you know, I’m the one who might be the Jack.” Chishiya told the man, who looked startled. “You see? They all started breaking off into groups. Everyone wants to know who’s trustworthy and who’s not.” He turned away from the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Take those two.” He said, gesturing to the man in a suit and a woman. “Before the game started, you wanna know what they were doing?” You grimaced as you thought back to it. What a way to be welcomed to the game. Beside you, Niragi let out a laugh. You noticed the man was looking at the four of you. You locked eyes for a moment, and a cold shiver ran down your spine. You instinctively grabbed Niragi’s hand and held onto a part of Chishiya’s sleeve.
“What?” Ippei asked. “That guy wants to control everything she does to exert power over her. So that she can’t interact with any other players. Which is smart, in the long run. If you’ve got someone you can trust that much, that’s how you win the game.” You let out a soft sigh. “Chishiya, a yes or no would have worked wonders to answer the guy.” You said, looking at your blonde boyfriend. He smirked at you. His attention was then brought to the ground where he could see the players downstairs. He took a few steps forward to get closer. Hoping to hear the two men downstairs talking.
A woman in a blue dress walked over to Ippei. “Hey, do you wanna join our team?” She asked him. “No pressure or anything.” Ippei thought for a moment. He was nervous. “It’s not that I don’t want to.” He said, turning to face the three of you.
“Okay, we’ll join the group.” Chishiya stated. Niragi didn’t like that idea. He preferred the idea of the three of you sticking together, alone. However, the three of you followed behind the group. Whilst Chishiya and Niragi were getting a layout of who everyone was. You were picking at your nails. You knew the boys would figure this out. Niragi tapped your hip. “Let me see, baby.” You turned around. Niragi moved your hair out of the way. “Look at that. A heart.” He said before placing a kiss behind your ear, causing you to giggle as the heat rushed to your cheeks.
You smiled and tapped Chishiya’s wrist. “You’re turn, love.” You spoke softly to him. Chishiya turned around. “Diamond. Hmm, very fitting.” You told him happily. You then turned to Niragi. “Your turn, handsome.” Niragi turned around. You and Chishiya looked at the symbol. “Spade.” The three of you stood there, mainly because Chishiya was busy thinking. You let a small huff. This was going to be a long night.
“It is time to give your answer. Please enter a solitary confinement cell of your choosing.”
The three of you walked to your cells. Yours was in the middle between Niragi and Chishiya’s cells. You stood in your cell, the door locking behind you, causing you to bite your bottom lip. “Heart.” You were confident. Of course, you were. Your two loves would never lie to you. The door unlocked once the round was over, and you stepped out of the room. You and the boys made your way back to the guardroom, and Ippei followed after the three of you.
–
“I keep wondering how long this is going to go on for.” You heard a man say. His partner spoke up. “Either the Jack will start killing people, or someone who’s afraid of the Jack will start to kill. Until either or both of those things happen, this will never end.”
“Exactly.” Chishiya agreed. “As long as we keep being honest with each other, we’ll be all right.” Ippei gasped out. “Or not.” Niragi added with a smirk, watching the man shrink back a little. You gently smacked his shoulder. He was having too much fun watching this guy cower.
“What the fuck!” A voice came, and a man was thrown to the floor. Everyone stared as a man walked over to the sobbing man on the floor. “I told you to give me the answer!” He shouted. That was so not okay. You went to take a step forward, however, Chishiya grabbed the sleeve of your cardigan. Niragi placed his arm in front of you, stopping you from moving. “Don’t.” They both whispered to you. Neither wanted you to be involved. You all watched as a man in blue, the man Chishiya had agreed with, got up and walked to the sobbing man. “You all right? Tell him he’s a club.” His voice was low, however, the three of you heard him. The sobbing man told the bully that his symbol was a club. The bully smirked and walked past you, your boyfriends and Ippei.
Ippei let out a gasp at seeing that the symbol was actually a diamond. “Shh! Now the game is really starting.” Chishiya was ready for the game to truly start. You shook your head lightly but stayed quiet. He was right. Now the game could start for real. Which meant the three of you would be closer to getting out of here and finding the others.
“It is time to give your answer. Please enter a solitary confinement cell of your choosing.”
You walked over to a cell and stepped inside. “Club.”
The first person was now dead, and all the other players were tense. Well, a lot of them were. A select few seemed calm and collected. A woman in a blue dress, the leader of the group you had joined, was plotting to kill the guy who had been getting bullied. Which to you was just wrong. He wasn’t the Jack of Hearts, and he had clearly been scared. You looked over at Chishiya, only to find him staring at a man who was sitting on the floor. The same man who had kick-started all of this, Banda. The two seemed to lock eyes and study each other.
You turned to Niragi only to find him doing the same. Except with that man in the suit, Yaba. The one who always had that woman with him. You let out a small scoff and crossed your arms over your chest. You weren’t jealous. You knew they were both trying to figure all this out. After a minute had passed, you walked forward. “Well, I’m gonna go see what food they have here.” You told your boys as you turned to walk off.
You were pulled back as Niragi grabbed your arm. “You’re not going anywhere without at least one of us with you.” He told you. You smiled up at him. “And here I thought you two were scoping out new additions to our relationship.” That made Chishiya snort beside you. Niragi shook his head. “You’re such a brat sometimes.” You grinned up at Niragi, placing a hand on his chest. “You love when I’m bratty. Hell, you love it when we’re both bratty. Right, Shiya?” You asked, turning to the blonde, who finally looked at the two of you. He smiled and nodded his head. “You love fucking the brat out of us.” He added as he stepped forward. You giggled. Niragi licked his bottom lip. “You two are on a very dangerous path right now.” You reached out and grabbed their hands. “Let’s go get some food.” You pulled them with you as you walked.
—---
You soon found yourselves sitting at a table in the cafeteria. The group you were with were all telling each other their symbols. Lying to one of the members. You and your boys already told each other your symbols. Chishiya was a heart, Niragi was a diamond, and you were a spade. Chishiya was munching on some cookies, you were eating cookies and cream flavored Pocky. Niragi had a drink and was just stealing the odd treat from you two. “When we get out of here, we should take as much of this with us as we can.” Niragi nodded at your idea. “Good idea.” You leaned up and kissed his cheek. “I’m full of good ideas.” Chishiya let out a chuckle and shook his head at you.
‘It is time to give your answer. Please enter a solitary confinement cell of your choosing.’
You made your way to the cell and said your suit. Once again, you were alive, but that wasn’t exactly surprising, was it?
‘Round four begins now.’
Everyone stood in the central guard room. Some people were confused that the guy the group just killed wasn’t the jack of hearts. Niragi let out a scoff. “How stupid are these people?” He asked, leaning against a wall beside Chishiya.
“People are starting to get nervous. I know they said there was no time limit…”Chishiya looked up as he let his words linger for a moment. “Except that people are starting to die now. I’m not sure we’ll find the Jack at all.” Well, that threw you through a loop. You and Niragi looked at Chishiya in shock.
“What the hell has gotten into you? We’ll figure this out. You’re smart enough, pretty boy.” Niragi lightly tapped his cheek. The three of you made your way downstairs to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. Once again, Chishiya was eating those biscuits from that yellow packet. “I’ll be sure to grab all of those for you when we leave this place.” Chishiya looked at you and gently squeezed your thigh in thanks.
“It is time to give your answer. Please enter a solitary confinement cell of your choosing.”
Of course, you went to your cells. Each confident as you all stated your symbols.
“Heart.”
“Club.”
“Diamond.”
—---
‘Round five begins now.’
Standing outside of the cells, Ippei was pacing. Chishiya was leaning against the wall. Arms crossed over his chest. Niragi was next to him, one hand wrapped around your waist, keeping you close. The other was in the pocket of Chishiya’s jacket. Keeping him close.
“Why are they all tricking each other?” Ippei asked as he turned to look at the three of you.
“Wow, are you really surprised?” Chishiya asked him without even looking at the poor guy. He was having a hard time with all of this. “No one wants to be the next to die.” Ippei trembled with fear. He was feeling stressed out.
You looked at your boys for a moment. You turned in Niragi’s arms. “I’m bored.” You told him, causing Niragi to chuckle. “We’re in the middle of a game and you’re bored? You hearing this?” He asked, tugging on Chishiya’s pocket to get his attention. “She knows she’s safe. She’s not worried for her life, of course, she’s bored.” Chishiya replied with a small shrug. You looked between the two of them. “Wanna make out?” You asked them both, a bright smile on your face.
“Sure.” They said in unison. And so the three of you walked off to find a cell, where you wouldn’t be interrupted.
—----
‘Round six begins now.’ ‘Round seven begins now.’
Standing in front of the shelves of food. You grabbed another box of Pocky. This time, crunchy strawberry. Every time you came down here, you seemed to be collecting the flavors. You looked around, trying to find the snack Niragi wanted, only to find it on the top shelf. Typical. You shoved your Pocky and Chishiya’s favorite cookies in your pocket. You reached up, standing on your tiptoes to try to reach, when a hand reached out from behind you to grab a packet. You turned to see Yaba and Banda behind you. Yaba held out the snack to you. “Here, you go dear.”
You smiled up at him and took the snack. “Thank you.” You looked between the men for a moment. Both seemed to be studying you, and you couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “You’re pretty.” Banda stated, a smirk on his face.
“Oh, thank-” You were cut off by Niragi’s voice. “Hey Princess! Come here a minute, Chishiya had an idea he wants to tell us!” He called out. He was standing up from the table. The two could see you clearly. You turned to the men in front of you and shrugged. “Thanks for the help, gentlemen.” You then made your way to your boys. You sat down next to Niragi, across from Chishiya.
“Stay away from those two.” Niragi said as he sat back down. He gently ran his fingers through your hair.
“Banda is a murderer, so stay clear. No more going anywhere alone.” Chishiya added with a tone that made it seem like that was common knowledge.
Then the words of what he had said sank in. “Wait, what? How do you know that?”
“I read.”
‘Round eight begins now.’ ‘Round nine begins now.’ ‘Round ten begins now.’ ‘Round eleven begins now.’ ‘Round twelve begins now.’
Round after round and more people were being killed off. You had watched the group kill each other off. It was brutal, but there was nothing you could do.
“I don’t think I can keep playing this game.” Ippei sobbed out.
“Diamond.”
He turned to face Chishiya, who had spoken. “How much longer, man?” He then sat down on the ground. “It’s so messed up.” He sniffled. “I thought that… people were much better than this.”
“Man, you led a charmed life.” You smacked Chishiya on the arm. “I’m sorry. But this is our reality now. Maybe we won’t get out of this alive. But even so, all we can do for now is help each other. So we can get out of this game.” You watched Chishiya walk over to Ippei and crouch down beside him. “Okay? We can do this.”
‘Round Thirteen begins now.’
Ippei was dead. The three of you stood outside of this cell. “You were too kind for this world, Ippei.” Chishiya sighed and turned to face the opening doors. “Well, that’s settled. Looks like we lost our partner.” Niragi chuckled at Chishiya’s words. “More like you lost your admirer.” He stated with a smirk. Chishiya shoved him slightly. “Shut up.” He said as the three of you watched the remaining players staring at you all. They all then walked away.
—-
Back downstairs, the three of you got food again. Chishiya had just finished telling you both who he thought the Jack was and why. Then, low and behind, the man you were speaking about came into the room. Matsushita was heading towards the same cookies he always got. A selection of the same cookie but different flavours.
Chishiya got up, his yellow packet of cookies in his hands as he walked over to Matsushita. He leant against the shelves of food. “These cookies taste better.” He said, causing Matsushita in the grey cardigan to turn to face him. Niragi walked over, appearing behind Chishiya. Matsushita stepped back slightly before walking past the two, just as you walked over. The guy looked you over for a moment as he continued to walk.
“That guy you hang out with? You should know that he’s a murderer.” Matsushita turned to look at Chishiya in confusion.
“What?”
“His name’s Sunato Banda. It was in the newspaper. Murdered four women, so that makes him a serial killer. And, you know, that’s punishable by death.”
“That’s a filthy lie.”
“No. It’s true. Know what I think? I think he’s the Jack of Hearts. There are only seven of us left. Time is running out. So the Jack’s gonna start to get aggressive now. Might as well share symbols. Chishiya began to walk over to Matsushita. “For the moment, you’re in a good position. The Jack still trusts you. So if anyone is going lie to the Jack. It has to be you.” Chishiya walked to the other side of the man. “Which means the game can only win one way. The key player here is you.” He let out a breath before crossing his arms over his chest, still holding the yellow bag of cookies. “I’m sure this is a lot, and you don’t trust me yet. For what it’s worth, there’s no advantage for me to lie. So I’ll tell you the truth about your symbol. Don’t you wanna make sure that Banda’s telling you the truth?”
“What makes you think that I would trust you over him?”
You don’t have to if you don’t want to. If I were in your shoes, I’d want to weigh my options. And I’ve got no reason to lie to you. Banda’s a murderer, and that’s a fact.”
“I still don’t trust you.”
“Fine. You’ll see for yourself once the next round is over. You’re a spade. Just so you know.” Chishiya turned around. “So, will you tell me mine?” There was a beat of silence. “Come on. I told you what yours is.”
“I never agreed to this deal.” Matsushita walked away from stopping. “Heart.” And with that, he left.
“What a fucking liar.” You couldn’t help but say once he was out of earshot. Chishiya was a diamond. But he already knew that. You were a club, and Niragi was a spade. Niragi shook his head and chuckled. “Baby, we knew he was going to lie.” He told you with a shrug. Chishiya walked back over to the two of you. “It’s him. I’m sure of it.” He confirmed. Niragi nodded his head in agreement.
“I still don’t like that Yaba guy or that Banda.” Niragi stated, arms crossed over his chest, remembering you talking to them.
You and Chishiya looked at each other, sharing a knowing smile. “Jealous.”
“Shut up.”
—-
After a while, Kotoko came into the room. She was picking up the same cookies she always did. Once again, Chishiya made his move.
“There are only seven of us left. Unfortunately, one of my partners is dead. I asked that guy, Matsushita, what my symbol is, but he told me he doesn’t trust me.” He inhaled. “And I’m pretty sure he lied to me. Sort of a hunch, I guess. So, would you mind telling me what my symbol is? I know this is kind of a big ask. But if you want, I promise to tell you your symbol in exchange. I … don’t mean to presume, but you strike me as an honest person. At least from over here. Also, that Yaba guy strikes me as a bit of a conman, and since you’re aligned with him, I thought you should know.”
Chishiya walked past Kotoko. “Your symbol is a heart. Now, what about mine? It’s a club, right?”
Kotoko walked away, her head down. Chishiya raised his packet of biscuits. “These are better, you know!” Chishiya let out a sigh and made his way to your table, where you and Niragi were sitting. The two of you had been having a lightsaber battle with your Pocky. Though your attention was brought to Chishiya was he sat down.
“I thought you were a doctor, not a salesman. Are you trying to sell those cookies to everyone or something?” Niragi asked him with a teasing grin on his face. Chishiya picked up a cookie and threw it at Niragi, intending to hit him with it. Though Niragi caught it in his mouth. “Shut up.”
You let out a giggle. The three of you spent the rest of the time sitting around the table, eating and talking about whatever you could.
—--
Walking back to the central guardroom, Yaba walked past three of you. He and Chishiya slowed down for a moment before he walked off to Kotoko. The three of you turned and watched Banda walk up the stairs before heading off to Matsushita.
“Seven people left, two pairs and one trio. The jack’s definitely going to make a move this round.” He took a step forward, standing on the podium thing. “I guess that this is the last round.” The blonde turned to look at the two of you. Niragi scoffed. “When did you become so dramatic?”
“It is time to give your answer. Please enter a solitary confinement cell of your choosing.”
You walked into your cell. You smiled slightly. Hopefully this was the last round. “Club.” You waited for a moment. The same sound echoed to show someone had died. The place was quiet until you heard an unsettling cackle like laughter. It sent chills down your spine. Hearing a door open, you opened your door. You stepped out. Niragi walked out of his, which was on your left. Chishiya walked out of his, which was on your right.
“I had a feeling you were the Jack of Hearts.” The three of you turned to face Matsushita. Chishiya’s hands were in his packers. Niragi’s were crossed over his chest. You put your hands on your hips. All three of you are watching the man in front of you.
“But how did you…?”
“You teamed up with Banda from the start, and he’s a murderer, so it just made sense. Even if somehow you were moved by Banda’s little monologue, I knew you wouldn’t trust him. You don’t trust strangers and certainly not that fast.” Chishiya stated calmly. God, it was hot seeing his brain work. Very sexy. Nope, now was not the time for that.
Another door opened and out came Banda. “Most people won’t even talk to a guy like me. But you wanted to kill me. I could sense that in you right away. So I wanted to see if you were smart, or just stupid or whether you were a true psychopath.”
“You mean..”
“You thought you were controlling me this whole time.” He began walking towards Matsushita. “But I was manipulating you into thinking that way. Ultimately, it was your huge superiority complex that gave you away.”
“That kind of self-importance usually comes from being put in a special position. Something that made you feel untouchable. Like being chosen as the Jack.” Chishiya started.
“You guys are wrong about this. Banda is the Jack of Hearts!”
“Sorry, kid.” Yaba’s voice came from the stairs. “It’s not Banda.” Yaba walked over, hands in his pants pockets. “You and Kotoko were connected. I told Kotoko what her symbol was, and yet, she still died. Which means, Kotoko was being manipulated by someone other than me.”
Matsushita nodded. “Well, then, you should be accusing one of those three instead!”
“Everything I went to the cafeteria, you and Kotoko would always be there, getting snacks at the same time. And each time, you’d get the same kind of snack. You and Kotoko were secretly communicating in the cafeteria. Both of you were just pretending that you were being controlled.” Chishiya spoke.
“No one knows what being controlled looks like until they’ve seen you in the bedroom.” Niragi chuckled in your ear. You wizzed around and slapped his chest. “Niragi, now is so not the time. Chishiya is showing off his sexy smarts, so please shut up.”
“There were four different flavors of the snack. You would confirm your symbols by checking the packaging. Using those snacks as a code with each other. I caught on pretty quickly.” Chishiya finished.
Yaba then spoke up. “And then, you told Kotoko to give me the wrong symbol. I did trust her. Except at the end.”
Matsushita gasped. “When did you lot start working together?”
“Well, the very first announcement said that this game is about how much we can trust one another. So we simply followed that principle. To gain someone’s trust. You can’t control, manipulate or guide them in any way. You can’t brainwash or hypnotize them, lie to them or instill fear.” Yaba spoke with every step he took. Only stopping once he came to stand beside Banda. “It’s called equality.”
“Wait, what makes you so sure it’s me? The Jack of Hearts could easily be one of your five. Okay, maybe I did try to blame everything on you by setting you up, but look! But that’s not enough, huh? You guys don’t have any proof that I’m the Jack of Hearts, huh?”
“You sure about that?” Chishiya asked.
“Huh?” Matsushita turned to face him. Chishiya stepped forward. “Just think about it. If they suspected that you were the Jack, then why did you survive this last round? Why didn’t Banda Lie? Tell you the wrong thing?”
Niragi stepped forward, a sick grin on his face. “The reason you’re still alive is because you’re the Jack. And these guys planned to keep you alive. Because they decided they wanna get information out of you.”
‘Round fourteen begins now.’
—--
Walking out of the prison, the boys opened a gate each, letting you walk out first. The three of you walked about before stopping to look at the blimp as it blew up and set on fire. You each had a bag, filled with food and drinks.
“Well, that was fun.” You told them, causing the two to look at you. You smiled up at them. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so chill about a game before.”
“That’s because Chishiya did all the work, baby.” Niragi told you with a raised eyebrow.
Chishiya nodded. “Well, you made some good commentary.” He said to Niragi, making him puff out his chest a little.
“And I had the hardest job of all. Looking pretty and eating all the Pocky.” You told them, mocking a sad expression. Your hand on your chest.
Suddenly, your bag was snatched from you by Chishiya. “Hey!” Niragi grabbed you and lifted you from the ground.
The sound of your laughter filled the streets. The three of you are happy and heading off to find your friends.
Taglist: Thank you for supporting me.
@thecheshireprincess @mocchii-writes @moonchild323232 @potato-vagina @monkey4lifer @kimsrie @so-dramatic1 @28361573 @onceinablueberrymoon @spanish-delulu-23
#alice in borderland#aib chishiya#aib niragi#chishiya alice in borderland#niragi alice in borderland#chishiya aib#niragi aib#alice in borderland chishiya#alice in borderland niragi#shuntaro chishiya#suguru niragi#chishiya shuntaro#niragi suguru#chishiya shuntaro x reader#suguru niragi x reader#shuntaro chishiya x reader#niragi suguru x reader#chishiya x reader#niragi x reader#chishiya#niragi#chishiya × niragi#niragi x chishiya#chishiya x reader x niragi#niragi x reader x chishiya#alice in borderland x reader#LoveLineCollection#polyamarous#throuple
177 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ketu Ruled Men & Their Striking Features
A Study of Shadowy Beauty in the Nakshatras 💫🌠🦋🙏🕊️🌚
This is a special collab with @astrocrazed and honestly I'm so grateful to her because this idea was born out of our shared obsession with nakshatra-coded beauty. Most appearance-based astrology content focuses on women and even fewer talk about how each nakshatra affects physical features, particularly in men. So we wanted to change that. This post focuses on Ketu-ruled nakshatras and how this shadowy, spiritual planet shows up physically. Ketu might be headless, but trust me when it dominates a chart, the face tells a story. If your Sun, Moon, or Ascendant is in a Ketu-ruled nakshatra (Ashwini, Magha, Mula), conjunct Ketu or if Ketu is in your 2nd house (which rules the face), chances are you've got some of these distinctive traits. Let's dive into the mysterious allure of Ketu-coded men.
Now onto my introduction,
Offering my prayers to lord Ganesha
Om Gam Ganapathaye Namaha II
And with a beej mantra of ketu
ॐ श्रम श्रीं सरं सह केतवे नमः ||
Om Shram Shree Srom Saha Ketave Namaha II
I am starting this post..
It has been a long time since I have written a long-ass post. This post is a collab with @clarynewme . I am more thankful to her as she is the one who came up with all the points. So kudos to your research and observations. We decided to do such a post after finding little to no posts discussing how each nakshatra affects the overall features of a man. We are delving into physical features that are seen in each of the 27 nakshatras. Before going into individual nakshatras, it would be worthwhile to do a general post on all the nakshatras that are ruled by the same planet. So in this post we are talking about ketu, the shadowy planet.
Each planet has certain influence on the facial features and overall physique of a person. As we are talking about Ketu, let's see how it influences a person's features.

Jaehyun

Brad Pitt

Austin Butler

Ahn Hyo-Seop

Xu Kai

Ashutosh Rana

Adrien Brody
From what is seen in these photos they tend to have:
🍀 Prominent jawline - well defined but not overly square, with minimal excess mass around the jaw area;
🍀 Tapered chin that's round yet slightly squarish;
🍀 Small to medium almond-shaped "puppy eyes" (@venussaidso);
🍀 Close-set eyes unless softened by Pisces/ Sagittarius placements (tropical astrology); Deep set, noticeable or even shocking eyes (Claire Nakti);
🍀 Prominent or unique teeth - large, crooked or with a gap (Claire Nakti);
🍀 Straight and narrow nose bridge;
🍀 High, subtly defined cheekbones;
🍀 Prominent neck - usually long or thick;
🍀 Something unique about their appearance, like tattoos, piercings, dyed or styled hair or a padded/dimpled chin (Claire Nakti);
🍀 Hair that varies widely: long, medium, short, bald, dyed, bleached or natural (common styles include mohawks, slicked back looks, buns, or wild textures) - Claire Nakti;
🍀 Symmetrical lips with a well-defined Cupid's bow;
🍀 Prominent ears that stick out (Claire Nakti);
🍀 Tall height and lean to muscular body (in general);
🍀 Tendency to highlight their eyes with eye liner or smokey eyeshadows - musexmessenger (tiktok);
🍀 Prominent speech - may be loud or direct, with a unique vocal tone such as deep, raspy, airy, high-pitched or marked by a lisp or stutter.
Note: If you've noticed any other traits in Ketu-ruled men, feel free to share-your insights might help us update and refine the post!
Finally finishing our post with this man right here..
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#vedic astrology#nakshatras#astroblr#astro tumblr#ketu men appearance#astro game#astro community#bts#ashwini#magha#mula#d1 chart#astro notes#vedic astro observations#astro research#astro insights#tropical astrology#claire nakti#ketu nakshatras
219 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rules and the like!
Song poll blog inspired by things like @doyoulikethis-videogame-song, @doyoulikethissong-poll and Guess the Game.
The general gist is similar to most if not all of these blogs in which a small clip of SFX from a video game will be isolated and posted here, with polls for people to vote on how well known it is.
This page'll most likely be updated the more this kinda stuff goes on.
Should go without saying but transphobes, aphobes and exclusionists are not welcome here.
Submissions are: CLOSED
Header and pinned post art by @forgetmenautical (thank you!)
Active Tags:
#open vote : Polls that are open
#closed vote : Polls that have been closed and the SFX source revealed
#dykasks : Asks for the blog.
#off-topic : For anything off topic - may be related to the blog or an update/announcement!
General FAQ:
Do you take submissions:
Yes! Though only when submissions are open. This will be through a google form that will open and close periodically, whenever I have the time!
When are the polls revealed/answered?:
Genuinely, whenever I feel like it! I've asked the blog a few times but general consensus seems to enjoy random reveals.
Will there be scheduled posts at specific times?:
Right now I'm scheduling around 3 posts at 4pm GMT every day, though this may change with my own schedule/if submissions are running low.
I'll do my best to keep it going! :D
What is your name/pronouns:
You can call me Smudge. He/They. Nice to meet you :3
How can we submit sounds to you?:
Assuming the form is open - any which way is fine by me. This could be through a youtube video, a google drive link, filegarden, catbox etc etc.
Can we say the answer in the tags?:
I would prefer if people didn't as this goes against the spirit of the game- However, very vague hints are fine by me! Be warey of spoilers in the notes if you want to play along!
My submission wasn't posted?:
I will post every submission I get to the best of my ability but if I cannot locate or find the isolated audio I will have skip as game noise can warp or disturb the sound itself. I will do my best to find it isolated beforehand, but if I cannot then it must be skipped, apologies!
A good resource for finding game SFX is The Sound Resource but unfortunatly not every game has a clean rip for its sounds!
This isn't an SFX!:
For the sake of variety on this blog as long as the sound is triggered by a specific action - it counts as a sound effect. A sound effect, to this blog, is generally anything that has a noise tied to its action. This could be collecting a coin, jumping, healing etc etc.
Can we submit voicelines?:
This is tricky, mostly yes.
I would say things like Hornet's "SHAW" from Hollow Knight count for this blog and I would accept them vs something like a clip from Cave Johnson's Lemon Rant I would not accept! Use your best judgement when submitting, but voicelines and clips are not specifically off of the table.
Can we submit sounds from NSFW games?:
Sounds from NSFW games, such as Honeypop, are fine to submit as long as the SFX itself is not NSFW in nature.
A moan or anything akin to that from a NSFW game (Dark Souls 1 Hollow and Mr Kennedy are exempt from this because I think its funny) would not be accepted.
This SFX was used somewhere else!:
This blog will run both on submissions and generally what the sound is more associated with rather than its original source! Not every SFX is original and some are used from specific sound libraries. The Roblox OOF, for example, comes from a game named Messiah - however, if a submitter has submitted its source asRoblox, thats what this blog will use as its source.
I will also be going off of what people say is the Context/Source for a game so sorry if that is ever wrong! If it is entirely, 100% incorrect in terms of where its from you can send me a message and I'll change it!
Can you tag scary/sounds from horror games?:
The point of the game is listening to unexpected sounds, and "scary" is an extremely subjective description. I will do my best to avoid posting loud jumpscare sounds or other sounds that I think are unpalatable to a general audience, but beyond that I don't intend on tagging specific types of sounds at this time.
How many SFX can we submit in the form?:
2 per person with ideally no repeat games in your own submissions!
You didn't answer my ask/did you recieve my ask?:
I tend to be doing other things while this blog runs on a queue, I try my best to answer and give the best responses I can for this blog to make it more accessible/comfortable and for everyone to contribute to this fun little game!
However- if you've noticed I haven't answered your ask, it's not personal. It may be due to it already being answered here, too spoilery concerning specific polls, inappropriate subjects for this blog or I may just keep asks in my inbox if they're especially nice/kind to look back on!
Can we add XYZ to the voting options?:
I am quite happy with the three options as they are! I prefer not to muddy polls with very specific options, making votes a little more strict. Generally all 3 cover everything they should.
This sound is too loud/quiet!:
In all seriousness, if a sound is genuinely too loud, shoot me an ask. I'll see if its appropriate to add a warning!
What kind of games do you like/play!:
Here's my topsters list!

I'm very open to receiving questions about any and all games though- and hearing recommendations/games you all like too!
219 notes
·
View notes
Text
. ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .


. ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .
Ineffable Bonds, Dulcet Whispers
. ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .
Media made being sent to the world of a game seem easy, it was always your favorite game, you knew the plot, what to avoid, what to look for. The plot was always about trying to stop oneself from changing the plot and the inevitable changing of it while falling in love. No one spoke about only having inklings of a plot, scattered knowledge acquired through second hand.
But that was exactly your situation.
Finding yourself in the midst of a dark 18+ otome game where you took the place of a character destined for death. Avoiding the main character would be easy, her love interests... well, that one was harder. You had never paid much attention to your best friend's rantings about the game, so you only know small bits that aren't enough to single them out. But they're intrinsincly connected, right? As long as you avoid her, you avoid them.
Right?
The chances that the five hybrids you end up having to house for a month are the love interests is one in seven, you could deal with those odds. And currently your list of worries is headed by trying to keep them from maiming one another, trying to keep up with their whims and trying to keep up with now sharing your space with five very attractive males.
Guess you should have paid a little more attention to what Ami had been raving about.
. ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .
a/n: this was inspired by this post and my love for hybrids was already rearing its head as it usually does. this is nothing new when it comes to plot and tropes, but who doesn't love our cliched plots?
series warnings↬ hybrids!, which includes - knots, ruts, animalistic behaviors ( biting, territory disputes, scenting ), hybrid specific prejudice and its political consequences ( being seen as pets and all that comes with it ); ↬ yanderes!, which includes - obsession, possessiveness, manipulation, gaslighting, violence against others, toxic behavior, dubcon. ↬ explicit content!, which includes - explicit sexual scenes, depictions of violence, swearing, morbid language. ↬ dark content!, which includes - all the warnings above, yes, this will be hea because i'm a sucker for it, but their nature will not change. these boys are morally grey at best. ↬ polyamorous relationship!, which includes - them all ending up in a relationship together. still not sure of the boys end game dynamics ( aside with reader ) but they will end up in a polycule, romantically or platonically.
the boys ↬ bunny!Xavier ↬ snowy owl!Zayne ↬ betta fish!Rafayel ↬ white tiger!Sylus ↬ gray wolf! blue bay shepherd!Caleb
. ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .
Chapter 1 - Swindled ↬ Your grandparents swindle you into taking in five hybrids for a month.
Chapter 2 - Meet the hybrids ↬ The hybrids arrive. Tensions arise. You lose a few braincells.
Chapter 3 - tba ↬ Ground rules over pizza and perhaps some red flags that you are too oblivious to notice.
more to come. updated on July 12th
#lads caleb#lads xavier#lads zayne#lads rafayel#lads sylus#lads smut#lads hybrids#xavier x reader#zayne x reader#rafayel x reader#sylus x reader#caleb x reader#xavier smut#zayne smut#rafayel smut#sylus smut#caleb smut#↬ 𝕚𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 | writing
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
Won't Say I'm In Love (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) - bonus part four
pairing: lando norris x fem!reader; past carlos alcaraz x fem!reader
summary: As a general rule, y/n does not date athletes. You've been there, done that - would not recommend. Besides, you definitely don't do love. There's no time in the world for complicated feelings when there's a career Grand Slam to be won. But what if your heart just refuses to listen?
genre: social meda/mixed au, friends to lovers, tbd
note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons or events
series: part i, part ii, part iii, part iv, part v, part vi, part vii. part viii, part ix, part x, part xi, part xii, part xiii, part xiv, part xv, part xvi, part xvii, xviii, tbd.
bonus: one, two, three, five, six
author's note: This is a bonus part, and not a regular update - i.e. no images, just text! Hoping to have the next chapter out before the race on Sunday.
July 20, 2025: Èze, France
Loud applause briefly startles Lando, reminding him of where and when he is – your sister’s wedding. He withdraws his hand from the back of your seat to join in on clapping as one of Victoria’s friends finishes up her speech.
He should probably feel like a fraud, sitting at the family table with the newly wedded couple just three seats down from him.
The troubling truth is that he doesn’t feel like one. Not even a little bit. Instead, he feels almost guilty over how normal it is - like he belongs right here, next to you as you immediately dig into the main course once it’s served.
“Oh my god, this is so good,” you gush in between bites, motioning for Lando to eat as well. “Can you believe that we’re already halfway through dinner and speeches? And that my sister’s actually married now?”
Lando wipes his hands for the hundredth time that day on his suit, before he picks up his cutlery and hums. They’re still a little clammy – the one telltale sign that he is, in fact, not alright. Because it’s not due to a sweltering summer night out here in Èze. Neither is it a result from exertion, from having driven his car around a track for ages wearing fireproof gloves.
No, his hands are sweaty, because he’s been desperately trying to keep himself in check all day and not get lost in the fantasy of it all. Of being here as your partner, of being more than just a convenient plus one.
If he’s being honest, he’s failing. Has been failing probably since Montréal. Even more so since Silverstone. One kiss could’ve been an accident, a lapse of judgment – something in the heat of the moment. Not that it was like that for him in Canada, though. If anything, it had felt inevitable.
Which is why your reaction had hurt, despite having known you well enough to have somewhat seen it coming. So he’d gotten his armour back on, told himself that things were fine the way they were, he just needed some distance.
So what you’d dented your friendship, it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be undone. It would be nothing but a small blip or blemish, and Lando would either be patient enough to see you change your mind, or to get over it himself. Except then the Silverstone win had made him feel invincible and he’d blurred the line he’d drawn himself all over again.
There’s this tension now that lives between the two of you. Perhaps it had always been there, neatly situated in the blind spots of your friendship. Visible for everyone else, but you and him. But now he can’t unsee it. Can’t unfeel the erratic way in which his heart drums in his chest every time he’s close to you. Can’t undo the press of his lips against yours and the way in which the memory of it is seared into his brain. Can’t unhear the sweetest of giggles turned moans when he’d sucked on your skin. Can’t unread your texts asking him to come to you. And Lando knows himself well enough to know that it’s not just lust, or desire that’s making him slowly lose his mind, unravelling in real time.
It’s the fact that it’s you. Someone who's seen all of him. The person that’s seen him snort chocolate milk out his nose, who’s accidentally hit him in the balls with a golf club, who sings horribly off-key at karaoke. The person who cheers him on even when he loses, who gifted him a Valentino Rossi mug without knowing who he was but knowing Lando cared, who trains with such devotion and dedication – who is just so much cooler than he is in every single way, yet chooses to hang out with him and decorate cupcakes with together off-season.
And that’s what makes it so much worse. Because he’s already had the privilege of knowing you, and it’s still not enough. Never will be enough, he fears. He craves you all the time. Even when he’s seated right next to you, all he wants is to be closer. To walk his fingers up your spine and down your arm, put his hand on your thigh like it means something decidedly not casual or friendly. To kiss your shoulder, just because he can.
He’s acutely aware of how your knees knock together under the table every once in a while tonight. How you’d hung onto his arm yesterday, and had allowed his hand to linger on your lap in the car. How your great aunt had assumed you’d been dating, and you’d immediately tried to correct her. How you avoid talking about what it is you’re actually doing and what it means – but still end up seeking Lando out, pushing the boundaries each time.
He smiles when you send him a cheeky wink, and it’s perhaps a bit too easy for him to pretend it means something. Almost as easy as it is to pretend the flowers he continues to send you mean nothing at all. It is reckless and greedy, but part of him wants to just take whatever you’ll give. Even if it ends up permanently scarring your friendship and his heart. So, here he sits on the family table as your best friend, pretending that he doesn’t feel both butterflies and dread churn in his stomach whenever he looks at you.
Lando refuses to acknowledge Carlos’ eyebrow wiggles from across the garden. You’ve disappeared back inside, something about a wardrobe change. Lando hadn’t been paying attention, had been focused instead on how you’d reached out to squeeze his hand. He’s saved from an eagerly and quickly approaching nosy Spaniard by your now official brother in law, who asks Lando for tips on how to properly pop the champagne.
The first bottle gets unceremoniously uncorked in the bushes, and Lando snaps a photo of the newlyweds laughing their heads off. There’s joy and happiness radiating off of them, and he snorts when Victoria squints her eyes in genuine laughter, just like you. He doesn’t get to share that observation until he finds you upstairs in the chateau, zipper of your evening dress still half undone and heels kicked into the corner like you forgot about them the moment you stepped into the room.
“I knew it was a fucking dumb idea to choose such a tight dress for the dance,” you complain as you flip your hair to one side. “Now I’m stuck in this and I missed Vic’s opening champagne shower.”
Lando swallows. He feels a little stupid at letting a part of him think you’d been lying about the new dress, that you’d just wanted to get him alone for a bit. “Do you like it?” The soft tone takes him by surprise, as if you’re genuinely not sure. The left corner of his lips curls up. “The other one gave me more access,” he teases, then steps forward as his hands ghost over the straps of the dress before following them down to the zipper. The low back had allowed him to inconspicuously ghost his fingers across your skin every time you'd leaned back a little in your chair.
You huff, and your eyes find his in the mirror. Mirth dances over your face, “maybe a bit too much access. If I’d do one champagne-induced pirouette, I’m pretty sure my left boob would be joining the party.”
His hands still on the small of your back, and he squeezes his eyes closed with a playful groan, dropping his chin on your shoulder. “Birdie, do you know how hard I’m trying to not look at your left boob right now?”
“Who said you’re not allowed to look? Or feel, or touch?”
The bold statement hangs in the air, filling the room with heated anticipation. For a brief moment, Lando is tempted to act on it as well. It feels like an I dare you, and he’s not one to back down from a challenge. Loves a good game and hates losing, after all. But before he can do as much, you blithely continue rambling as you motion towards the upper part of the dress you’re currently wearing. “This one’s got a corseted, structured body. It’s why I can’t properly zip it myself. Because apparently it’s the type of dress only people with partners wear. At least it'll keep my boobs firmly in place even when I tear up the dancefloor. So once you’ve zipped it close, you better have a good look and tell me if it looks nice.”
Right. A tiny spark of disappointment rushes down his spine. That’s why you’d asked him to come up here. Out of convenience.
It’s probably better like this anyways, Lando considers as he gently tugs on the zipper and ignores the drag of his fingers against soft skin. A new line to draw in the sand, the smallest of moats that he’s desperately dug around his own heart as a final attempt at self-preservation. No sex.
He looks over your shoulder in the mirror once he’s secured the zipper up top, then smiles appreciatively at the way the dress hugs you in all the right places. “Fuck,” he sighs. “You look hot. Beautiful.”
“Yeah?” You question, restless hands removing imaginary dust from the fabric before turning around to face him. “Danceable?”
You’re so close that he can faintly make out your freckles, and the way in which your lipstick has started to wear just a little. It’s distracting, and the question feels like a trap, but he willingly allows himself to fall for it anyways. One of his hands reaches out, caresses just underneath the curve of your breast. To test more than to tease. “Seems sturdy,” he murmurs, eyes stuck on newfound territory that Lando is apparently allowed to touch. “Might have to give it a good test run, though.”
You giggle, eyes glinting with mischief as you gently remove his hand from where it’d been caressing your body and step just out of reach. Lando pretends not to be disappointed. “Then lead the way, Mr. Norris.” The teasing lilt in your voice makes way for something lighter as you slip back into heels. “And you better be quick, because I’ve got a date with my sister on the dancefloor.”
Lando smirks. “Oh sweetheart, don’t tempt me. You know I’d leave you in the dust. Especially if you’re wearing those.”
He brings you a drink as peace offering when you’re still pretend sulking after having inevitably lost the race back to the party. Noone seems to have noticed that you’d briefly gone inside, but he supposes that it’s easy to slip away as the night goes on. Most people are either well on their way to being drunk, or distracted by the other guests dancing the night away.
Not Lando though, he's just distracted by you. The dress he’d helped you get into earlier looks absolutely stunning in the moonlight, as you dance with your friends and family. Strings of fairy lights are draped around the garden, and the disco balls make their reflections dance across your skin like the light just can't help but seek you out. He understands that tendency all too well.
You’re buzzed, he can tell by the way you get slightly more expressive and start to mime out the lyrics to songs you particularly like. Lando grins, more than content with observing quietly from the side as he converses with Carlos and other guests. But then your eyes meet his and your expression brightens immediately, crooking your finger at him.
He can’t resist. With heels, you tower over him a little when you're dancing this close, and Lando loves it more than he should. Like he does with everything and anyhing to do with you. It’s why he steadfastly ignores his head when his heart starts beating faster and faster, blood rushing south when you grind on him. There’s something equally exhilarating and unnerving about the fact that you don’t seem to care at all about your surroundings.
Except apparently there are some things you won’t do in the middle of the dancefloor, and that’s why he finds himself being led back into the chateau. “Wanted to do this so badly,” you pant as you nip at his neck, before slotting your lips against his.
He walks you back to the bed, then laughs into your hair as you pull him down with you onto the mattress. Lando swears his skin burns with every single touch of your hands, like liquid heat and sunshine coursing through his veins.
You unbutton his shirt as you place small kisses along his collarbone. “You smell so good,” you mutter, and Lando can’t think straight. He pulls at your chin, lifting it up a little so he can kiss you properly. Lick into your mouth while his other hand settles on your hipbone.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he responds when you eventually pull away for air, giving his bottom lip a little tug. He knows you can feel just how turned on he is from the way in which you try to roll your hips up, desperate for some friction.
A whine escapes your lips when Lando’s grip tightens, pinning you further down and effectively keeping you from moving. It’s a last-ditch effort in maintaining some semblance of control. Your chest rises and falls quickly, arousal clearly written across your face.
“Oh come on Lando, it’s just us.” It’s meant to egg him on, get him to do something – anything. Instead, it hits like a bucket of ice-cold water.
“Just us?” Lando lets out a frustrated noise, and all of a sudden he lifts himself off of your body.
“Yeah, just us,” you repeat, and he can feel something sharp twist inside his chest. Oh, he thinks. So this is what it’s like when you break your own heart.
“This isn’t – I,” Lando pauses, one hand passing through his hair in frustration. “You make it sound so insignificant.”
You just frown, sitting up on your elbows so you can have a better look at him. Like you couldn’t possibly understand what he means. Lando can feel his heart sinking deeper into he moat he'd dug to protect himself.
“I can’t do this if it’s – if that’s what this is to you. Like it being ‘just us’ doesn’t make this a thousand times more monumental.”
“Monumental?” you repeat incredulously, and it hurts. Because he’d always just assumed that the fact your friendship was sacred didn’t need explanation to you. But maybe it does.
“You’re my best friend, Y/N. I’m not going to risk that over something that means nothing to you.”
He starts buttoning up his shirt again, just to have something else to do. So he doesn’t have to witness how clueless you look, as if you still can’t quite wrap your head around what’s happening. “Are you serious right now?”
He doesn’t deign that with a response, just huffs as he pushes off the bed and starts putting on his shoes. How fucking stupid.
“So what, you’re not even going to talk to me and just leave?” You question again, and Lando feels a surge of annoyance rise to the surface.
“I don’t want to say something I’m going to regret,” he settles on in the end.
Because how is it that you get to be miffed about him leaving, when it’s him that you’ve just devastated?
He doesn't know if it's faith or delusion that lets him believe you didn't mean it like that. And the worst part is that he could've and should've seen this coming. He knew not to push you, not to rush you. He thought that he could handle it. Do it right. Plan a heart to heart. Let it all unfold.
Instead, everything's gone wrong, despite trying to do the right thing. And for the first time that day, Lando feels like a fraud.
a/n: just a little something to tide you over before the next chapter this weekend :) I think i'm going back to just having a 1x per week update schedule, I was hoping the summer would see my day job calm down - but it's felt like the opposite unfortunately. So, I need to be realistic in what I can deliver... Not that there are many chapters left, but I like to keep you guys in the loop and set the right expectations instead of letting you down by being late with uploading every time :(
♥ likes, comments, reblogs and asks are always very much appreciated - i love chatting and hearing your thoughts! ♥
taglist (open): @linnygirl09 @julesbog @midnight-and-books @sarx164 @obxstiles @freyathehuntress @vhkdncu2ei8997 @berrnuu @lightdragonrayne @glow-ish @batsratswrites @blushmimi @colmathgames2 @esw1012 @sadiemack9 @tremendousstarlighttragedy @awritingtree @its-elias-world @sarah-thatstings-ann @jessicanotta @fairyjinn @destinyg237 @verogonewild @annimausi @taetae-armyyyyy @jkoooooooookie @coral7161 @chezmardybum @gigigreens @guacala
#f1 x reader#ln4 x reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris fic#lando norris imagine#formula one x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fanfic#lando norris smau#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#ln4 imagine#ln4 x y/n#lando norris x fem!reader#lando x reader#lando x you#lando imagine#lando fluff#lando fic#ln4 fic#WSIIL SMAU#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 rpf#f1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 smau
142 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Edges of Us: Chapter 13
First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter



Will Lenney x fem reader; George Clarke x fem reader
Summary: Y/N has always been close to George—but everything changes when she catches feelings for his sharp-tongued, infuriatingly charming friend, Will. Torn between loyalty and desire, Y/N finds herself caught in a messy tangle of friendship, secrets, and unexpected love.
Word Count: 7.0k+
Note: SMUT again!!!!! i had SO many requests to write more so im trying!!! any authors want to give me tips id love that xxx
18+ only, MDNI
content warnings: blowjob, face fucking sorta, cum swallowing, exhibitionism I suppose?? idk what to call it. if I'm missing any let me know <33
xxx
The last three weeks? A blur.
It’s been… about as close to "not casual" as you can get without admitting it’s something real with Will. And I don’t know whether I should feel relieved or like I’m teetering on the edge of some emotional cliff.
He’ll wait for me to finish work, and then we’ll go out to dinner. Always somewhere low-key, somewhere we can avoid prying eyes.
But he hasn’t made me a cup of tea, not once. Not even when I’ve been on the edge of exhaustion, when a cup of Earl Grey could fix everything.
He’ll text me job opportunities his friends are posting—always practical, always thoughtful—but he doesn’t ask about my day, not in the way someone who’s really invested does.
Or maybe he's trying to keep it casual, like me.
And we never meet when the sun’s still high in the sky. It’s like he has this rule, a silent agreement we’ve never discussed: after dark, we exist. Before then? It’s as if we’re just... separate lives.
He hasn’t met my friends. Not Ruth, not anyone. It’s like I’m hiding him away, but I don’t really mind. I don’t want him to be friends with Ruth—she’d ask too many questions, and I’m not ready for that.
We don’t know what the other gets up to when we’re not together, but over text, we’re funny. We send memes, random jokes, and stupid updates, like we’re in some constant, low-stakes conversation. But it’s never about anything real. No talks about our days, no checking in on anything that matters. It’s just… banter.
It’s like we exist in parallel, connected by inside jokes and little moments, but never touching the deeper stuff. Until we come together for our stolen moments.
But god… it’s fun. It’s so much fun. He’s fun. He’s wild and unpredictable, and when we’re together, it’s like the world falls away.
And yeah, he’s pretty. He’s ridiculously pretty. Like it’s almost unfair.
But that’s the thing, isn’t it? It’s easy to get caught up in all of it. The thrill. The mystery. But I’m starting to wonder… is that enough?
xxx
Work was hell. One of those days where every email felt like a personal attack and the printer chose violence for the third time this week. My manager spent the afternoon breathing down my neck like I was personally responsible for the state of the global economy, and by the time I got on the tube, I felt like a chewed-up receipt someone had stomped on.
So when I finally unlock the front door, all I want is silence, maybe tea, maybe death.
Instead, it hits me immediately—music, laughter, and the low thrum of voices carrying down the hall from the living room.
Shit.
I thought I’d dodged this.
Chris texted something earlier about “lads round before the pub,” and I’d purposely stayed late at work, hoping I could sneak in, grab a snack, and vanish into my room unnoticed. No small talk. No beer breath.
No Will.
I’m not ready for him to see me like this. In my work clothes, Absolutely destroyed. My limbs are heavy, my brain is fried, and I have zero patience for banter or flirtation or pretending to be even remotely charming. I feel frayed at the edges, like if someone so much as asks me how my day was, I’ll burst into tears or flames—whichever comes first.
I try not to think about the last time I came home like this. When I’d been this wrecked, this worn down, and he saw it—all of it. I remember the quiet way he looked at me, like I wasn’t pathetic for falling apart over spreadsheets and deadlines. I remember how he kissed me like I made sense to him, even when I didn’t make sense to myself.
I almost get to my room. But then—
“Y/N!” Chris’s voice cuts through the noise like a boomerang of guilt. “You’re back! Come sit, we’ve got room!”
I freeze at the corner of the hallway, fingers still curled around the strap of my work bag. Just a second’s pause. Too long. George’s head turns. He sees me.
There’s no escape.
“Just for a bit,” I call back, keeping my voice light, masking the internal oh-for-fuck’s-sake that’s bubbling up behind my ribs .I step into the room and it’s like a spotlight swings right onto me. Seven pairs of eyes. A half-empty bottle of rum on the table. And Will—
Will, lounging across the couch like a Renaissance painting that got bored and discovered sarcasm. Long legs stretched out, one arm draped over the backrest, beer bottle balanced loosely in hand. He clocks me immediately, and his mouth curves—not into a smile, exactly, but into something far worse.
Our eyes meet.
It’s electric. Sharp. Stupid.
He's got that knowing tilt. That lazy smirk. That look that says: You came here for me, didn’t you?
So painfully obvious that I look away almost instantly, like that’ll stop my cheeks from heating up.
Chris kicks the beanbag next to him, indicating the spot he's 'found' for me. “Don’t be antisocial. You’ve earned a drink, coder queen.”
“Only if the drink contains morphine,” I mutter, letting my bag thunk to the floor. I move into the room slowly, careful not to look too long in Will’s direction, which of course just makes me more aware of every molecule of him.
George offers a vague nod from the armchair, glass coke-and-probably-rum in his hand. “Rough day?” he asks.
I shoot him a look that could curdle milk. “Define ‘rough.’” I don't mean to be so curt with him. But its hard not to be recently.
Will hums, eyes glinting. “Did someone interrupt your TikTok scroll with a meeting invite?”
I give him a saccharine smile. “No, just got emotionally waterboarded by capitalism. But thanks for your concern, William.”
He raises his beer in my direction, grin tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Cheers to emotional trauma.” The room laughs, Arthur snorts into his glass—but Will’s eyes don’t leave mine. Not really.
He’s joking. Obviously. That’s the game. We throw jabs, deflect with sarcasm, act like neither of us is keeping score. But there’s a flicker underneath it. His brow arches just slightly, the tilt of his head barely perceptible—but it’s there.
You alright?
He doesn’t say it out loud, and I don’t answer. Not with words. Just a half-smile, quick and crooked, the kind that says I’m fine even when I’m not. Especially when I’m not. I'm sure he sees right through it but that’s okay.
I take the spot Chris offered me on the beanbag, it's just close enough to feel the heat of Will’s gaze, but far enough that I can pretend to ignore it. The voices swirl around me, but they feel distant. My focus is too busy tuning itself to him. Chris hands me a rum and coke he's just mixed. I take one sip, holy fuck it's strong. I know I insinuated I wanted one with heavy drugs in it but goddamn. I mutter a thank you to him.
Will leans slightly forward, one elbow resting on his knee now. His fingers tap absently on the glass bottle. His eyes flick to mine again, like he’s checking I’m still there, still looking.
I am.
I always am.
The stress starts to slip off me in layers—first my shoulders, then my jaw. He doesn’t even say anything to me. Just exists in the room the way he does, all ease and quiet smugness. This always happens. I show up bristling and bitter, decide I won’t even look at him, and five minutes later I’m laughing at nothing, forgetting why I was mad in the first place.
I scan the room, counting names like mental flashcards. Chris. George. Arthur—both of them. Bach, curled up with a cider and a fresh haircut, hoodie sleeves pushed up like he’s about to solve a mystery or maybe start a band. But then there's a face I don’t recognise.
He’s shorter, with could-be curls and the kind of cheekbones that suggest he’s good at five-a-side. His football shirt is vintage, or at least cool enough to pretend it is. He catches me looking and offers a polite, not-unfriendly half-smile.
I nod, reflexively. Then—without thinking—glance at Will.
And he’s already looking at me.
He clocks the exchange immediately. Doesn’t miss a beat. “This is Stephen,” he says, voice pitched just that bit louder than necessary—like he’s introducing him to the room, but really, the message is mine. A soft thread tugging: I see you.
The conversation ripples with laughter, someone says something about Stephen being “the designated wildcard,” and I manage a real smile this time. Not forced. Not polite. Just… easy.
Will’s eyes find mine again. That same look—subtle and steady, with none of the usual bite. Not quite a smile, but something warmer than neutral. Something careful. Protective. Like he’s flicking the corner of a post-it note stuck to my ribs that says, You’re not invisible.
I want to thank him, for throwing me that social lifeline, for always noticing. For being the first and honestly only person who introduces me to people. It seems like everyone just assumes I should know them.
But the words catch in my throat, too heavy with everything we’re not saying. So instead, I shift on the beanbag, tuck one leg underneath me, and look away—pretending not to blush while the heat creeps up my neck like he lit a match inside me.
Still, I feel it.
That invisible line drawn across the floor. The energy between us shifts. It’s no longer sweet — it’s something else. It’s…
I meet is gaze, steady on me.
Like a secret that doesn’t need to be spoken to be known.
So I take a sip of my too-strong drink, pretending it doesn’t taste like his name on my tongue.
It’s…
Hot.
Heavy.
It’s…
everything I didn’t want to admit.
The conversation rolls on, picks up speed again like it never noticed I tried to derail it by existing. It’s normal. Casual.
I feel anything but.
Every nerve in my body is hyper-aware of Will’s presence. Of the three inches of space between his leg and George next to him. Of the way he isn’t drinking much, just slowly nursing a beer and glancing in my direction whenever someone else is talking.
I try not to notice.
I fail spectacularly.
“So, Will,” Chris says, stirring something neon and suspicious, “what’s going on with you? You seeing anyone? What happened to that girl from Dublin?”
My stomach tenses. I blink hard at the rim of my glass. I didn't know there was a girl from Dublin.
Will grins, infuriating and deliberate. “She moved back to Dublin, plus we couldn’t understand a word each other were saying.”
George scoffs. “Translation: she ghosted him after one mediocre date.”
“Excuse you,” Will says, hand on chest in mock injury. “My dates are never mediocre.”
He says it to the room, but he looks at me when he says it.
Direct. Unapologetic.
Like he’s daring me to contradict him.
Laughter breaks out around us. Chris chuckles into his drink. Arthur-who-i-don't-live-with claps once, delighted. George chuckles too at first. But I feel it. That subtle shift. The way his body leans back, almost imperceptibly, like he’s just remembered something, or just noticed something he hadn’t meant to see.
Will sits back again, smug. His fingers brush the rim of his bottle, slow and rhythmic.
Arthur-who-i-DO-live-with raises his eyebrows. “So what—you are seeing someone now?”
Will shrugs, slow and maddeningly nonchalant. “Yeah, sorta. It’s… early. Kind of nice, actually.”
The word nice lands on me like a spark. My heart flips.
I see George go stiff.
Arthur-who-i-don't-live-with lights up. “Is that an exclusive soft launch?”
Will tilts his head, grinning like he knows the chaos he’s about to cause. “Wouldn’t be very soft if I confirmed that, would it?”
More laughter. But I see it—the small clench in George’s jaw. The way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
My pulse is in my ears, like the room just tilted slightly and no one noticed but me.
I stare at glass, trying to focus on the ice melting. I don’t look at Will. I don’t look at George.
I try not to look like I’m thinking too hard about any of it.
The conversation has shifted again, and now I'm pretending to listen to whatever Arthur’s saying about Fantasy Premier League. Will’s directly across from me, half-lit by the warm lamplight, that same lazy posture like he hasn’t moved in an hour. But I can feel him.
Not see him.
Feel him.
The way his gaze keeps drifting—pulling across the space between us like a taut string. It slides over my cheek, down my collarbone, lingers somewhere just below my neckline. Never obvious. Never quite bold enough to be caught by anyone else. Well, except maybe George.
But I feel it. God, do I feel it.
I keep my face carefully neutral, sipping at my drink and nodding like I’m tuned in. I’m not. I’m hyperaware of everything else—of the way Will’s thumb rests along the bottle’s edge, slow circles, absent-minded but precise. Of the way his knee bumps against George’s once, shifts, then angles ever-so-slightly toward me. Of the flicker of his tongue as he licks a bit of beer from the corner of his mouth.
He hasn’t said a word to me in ten minutes.
And he doesn’t have to.
That silence between us? It’s louder than anything.
Someone jokes about going out soon, about being already half-cut—and the room laughs, the energy rising. I laugh too, a bit too high, a bit too fast. Will notices. Of course he does.
He lifts his bottle and tilts it slowly toward me. Barely half an inch. Just a twitch of his wrist. But it’s deliberate. Drink, love, it says.
I blink. Tilt my glass back in quiet rebellion.
He smirks.
The bastard.
Chris throws a cushion at Arthur, and the room devolves into a tangle of boys and half-empty mixers. But I stay grounded—anchored by Will’s eyes. Every time I glance up, I find him already looking. Like he doesn’t trust me to be in the same room without watching me.
I shift slightly on my beanbag, tug my work cardigan off my shoulders like it’s casual, like it’s just warm in here. It’s not. I’m ice inside and overheating all at once.
He doesn’t look at the cardigan. He watches my hands as I pull the sleeves over my wrists, watches my fingers fiddle with the hem like I’m trying not to fidget. Like I’m unravelling, slowly, and he’s enjoying every second.
George says something beside him, and Will nods along, doesn’t break eye contact.
Doesn’t need to.
His gaze is that constant hum under my skin. That pressure behind my ribs. That memory of last week’s hands on my skin—of mouths, too fast and too familiar, of breathless laughter tangled in the dark.
I press my knees tighter together, shift again.
Will’s brow lifts—subtle, cocky. Like he knows exactly what I’m doing.
I clench my jaw. Look away.
Then, under the coffee table—light, so light—I feel it. The brush of his foot. Just barely grazing the side of mine.
I don’t move.
I don’t flinch.
But my pulse kicks up like I’ve been yanked out of my own skin.
I glance up again, carefully, slowly. Will’s talking now. Joking about something, deflecting someone’s dig, probably Stephen's, but his eyes flick back to mine mid-sentence. And the corner of his mouth twitches.
That almost-smile. That “I know what this is doing to you” look.
I hate him. I hate how well he reads me. How much I want to close the distance between us in front of everyone. How I can’t.
Someone’s asking me a question—Arthur, maybe—but it doesn’t land. I answer with a nod I barely register. My brain is half-fog, half-fire, and all of it is him.
He shifts again, knees spreading wider, then lets his hand drop to his thigh. His thumb taps once. Still watching me.
I sip my drink just to give my hands something to do. I’m going to combust.
And he knows it.
Xxx
There is a lull in the conversation, and I can feel another story starting, another distraction spinning through the air like glitter. I use the moment and push myself to my feet.
“Gonna crash,” I say casually, stretching like the act of standing isn’t a full-body escape. “You lot have fun.”
There’s a scattered chorus of goodnights. George offers a warm “Sleep well,” and Chris winks like I’ve just admitted defeat to my own social battery.
Will doesn’t say anything.
But I feel his eyes follow me as I walk out.
I don’t look back.
Upstairs, my room is dark and quiet, the low hum of bass from downstairs barely bleeding through the floor. I close the door gently, not quite clicking it shut. Just in case.
I exhale.
Then I sit on the edge of my bed, the silence thick around me, hands pressed into the blanket like I need the grounding. The energy from the night still crackling across my skin.
Two minutes later—barely enough time for me to even kick off my shoes—I hear the floorboard outside my door creak.
The faintest knock.
Then the door opens. Will slips in without waiting for a reply, like it’s not a question. Like this has always been the plan. He clicks the door closed behind him.
He’s holding his half-finished beer. His brows lift when he sees me still sitting on the edge of the bed, like he expected something different—maybe pyjamas, maybe distance.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” he says, voice low and easy, like the joke’s been waiting on his tongue all night.
I glance up. “Like what?”
He tips his head toward the clutter. “You. Me. This cursed little museum of other people’s bad purchases.”
I snort. “Hey, don’t knock the early-career YouTuber aesthetic. George says the broken drone adds character.”
He glances at the corner like it personally offends him, eyes landing on the toppled ring light still leaning sideways against the wall.
“That tripod’s still knocked over,” he says, mouth twitching. “Should’ve known you’d leave it exactly where we kicked it.”
I shoot him a look. “Technically, you kicked it. While trying to multitask.”
He steps a little closer, slow, smug. He’s still standing. I’m still seated, spine straightening without meaning to as he closes a bit of the distance. “I was very focused,” he says.
“On making a mess?”
“On you.”
God.
That look on his face—just barely smug, but warm underneath, like he’s remembering the exact moment he lost focus. The way his voice drops when he says you.
It does something to me.
I try not to let it show. But suddenly I’m hyper-aware of the way he fills the doorway. The way his shirt clings to the dip of his collarbone. The light catching on the edge of his jaw. He smells like citrus and beer and something faintly like heat.
He’s not even trying, and I feel like I’m about to go up in flames.
That shuts me up for half a second too long. He notices—of course he does—and the smugness softens, just a fraction. Not gone, just folded beneath something quieter.
“Yeah, well, I live here rent-free. I don’t get to be picky.”
“There’s a monitor from 2011 under your bed.”
“And yet you keep showing up.”
He smiles at that—slow, crooked. Dangerous. “Yeah. Wonder why that is.”
He doesn’t move closer. Just lingers near the door, like he's giving me the choice. Like if I said go, he would.
I don’t. Obviously.
He scans the room again, like he’s seeing it for the first time—even though this isn’t new. He's been here before. More times than makes sense, actually.
More than makes sense for two people pretending not to mean anything.
His voice softens. “You alright?”
“I am now,” I say, quieter than I mean to.
He nods like he already knew. Like it’s not the first time I’ve said that to him.
Then a beat. Just enough silence to feel like gravity.
He looks at me, just looks, still standing, beer in hand, five feet of electric space between us, and says, “Funny, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“This keeps happening.” His eyes flick around the room—the clutter, the quiet, me sitting there in the middle of it all like a scene he keeps returning to. “Me ditching my mates. You sitting here like you didn’t plan on letting me in.”
I try to look unimpressed. “I didn’t.”
He takes one slow step forward. “You always leave the door open.”
“I always forget to close it.”
“Sure you do.”
His voice is lower now, steadier, pulling something out of me like thread from a seam. I should say something clever. I should move. But I can’t. I just sit there, heart thudding, skin flushed, and think—
He looks so fucking good.
And then I do move.
I stand slowly, like I’m not entirely sure why I’m doing it, like gravity’s just pulled me to my feet instead of common sense. We’re closer now—barely a foot between us—and he watches me rise like it’s happening in slow motion.
He opens his mouth like he might say something else, but I don’t give him the chance.
I kiss him.
Soft at first, but insistent. Like I’ve been thinking about this all night—and I have. His mouth tastes like beer and something sharper underneath. I grip his collar and feel his breath catch against mine.
He kisses me back, of course he does—hands sliding to my hips, grounding me, anchoring us—but there’s something restrained in it. Like he’s kissing me carefully.
I know that version of him. That cautious, thinking-too-much version.
So I tip things.
My hands slide lower, thumbs brushing under the hem of his shirt. I toy with the edge of his waistband, tug lightly, just enough to make a point.
He breaks the kiss with a soft, breathy laugh. “All of my mates are literally a door away.”
I look up at him, deliberately unfazed. “So?”
His breath hitches again.
It’s almost funny, how flustered he gets when I push things. He’s all bark in the living room, teasing across the room with smug little comments and those eyes. But in here, with me? His confidence slips just a little when I’m the one steering.
"I think they're about—” he starts, but he doesn’t finish.
I kiss him again, firmer this time, my hands threading through the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer like I own this moment. “We’re already being stupid. Might as well commit.”
Will leans back against the door, just like the first time he pressed me here—his body a solid frame against mine. The heat between us sizzles, silent but undeniable, like electricity sparking in the tight space.
My fingers move to his chest. I pull back just enough to catch my breath, eyes locked on his. “I need five minutes and a hairtie,” I say, voice low, teasing with a dangerous edge.
He arches a brow, a slow, reluctant smile curling his lips. “Five minutes? What’s the plan, boss?”
I step forward, voice dropping to a sultry whisper as I lean close, so close he can feel my breath against his jaw. “You’ve been looking at me like you can’t resist me all night," I murmur, "may as well give you what you want."
He laughs, rough and easy, but there’s a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, I know he's nervous, with all his mates next door but let's be real, he's a guy. He won’t think about the consequences of a blowjob if it means getting a blowjob.
“Alright, alright. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” I murmur, my lips brushing his ear, “because I like you exactly where you are.”
I step back just enough to grab the scrunchie from the messy bed, my fingers trembling slightly over the pile of clothes and tech junk. The crooked ring light teeters but doesn’t fall.
Will watches every move, his gaze sharp and hungry, the light catching the planes of his face—jawline, collarbone, that subtle crease above his brow.
I twist my hair up slow, deliberately, locking eyes with him the entire time. When I turn back around, he’s still by the door, eyes dark, lips slightly parted.
Without warning, he reaches out, fingers sliding around my waist, pulling me close again. His touch is firm, possessive, and completely sure—like he’s claiming every inch of me without holding anything back.
My hands press against his chest, feeling the steady pulse beneath his shirt, matching the wild racing in my own veins. I let my lips drift lower, tracing a slow path along his jaw, brushing against the sharp angle, every kiss deliberate, every breath warm against his skin.
Will's breath catches. I bite lightly at the curve of his neck, my teeth teasing, my tongue on his skin just enough to make him shiver. My fingers find their way back to his waistband, and I feel his bare skin under his shirt, my fingers ghosting along his hips.
Without breaking the kiss, my fingers fumble hurriedly at his belt buckle, the tension making my hands tremble just enough to slow me down. It catches on the metal, stubborn. He leans in, breath warm against my ear, and with a quick, practiced motion, frees the clasp.
His hands slip around my waist again, fingers pressing into my skin, pulling me impossibly closer—solid, grounding me in the wildfire sparking between us.
His eyes darken, shadows deepening into something fierce and hungry, raw and unfiltered, completely caught in this moment like nothing else exists beyond us.
I can feel the heat radiating off him, the steady thrum of his heartbeat syncing with mine, every second stretching out, heavy and electric.
Theres no hesitation now, just the undeniable pull, the raw energy crackling through the air.
I kiss him again—no time for pleasantries—my tongue sliding boldly down his throat, hungry and demanding, like I’m trying to swallow every word he’s left unsaid.
I push his jeans down his legs, just enough to give me access to his briefs. I palm his dick through them, a moan escaping his mouth into mine. His knees buckle just slightly, but enough for me to notice. I giggle softly, breathless, and he responds by moving his hands up, cupping my face gently—his touch warm and steady, grounding me even as everything else feels like it’s spinning.
I want to tease him a little longer—draw this out, keep the heat simmering—but I’m wary of the time, the situation.
I told him five minutes. I’ll deliver on my promise.
So I pull back just enough to flash him a sly smile, my fingers trailing teasingly down his chest before stepping away, leaving the tension hanging between us like a spark waiting to catch fire.
“Five minutes,” I remind him softly, voice low and mischievous.
I drop to my knees faster than he’s expecting. I know because when I look up, his eyes widen—surprise flickering across his face.
My hands work quickly, sliding his briefs down, then his jeans, the fabric slipping and pooling around his ankles like they don’t belong.
He’s exposed and vulnerable now, and somehow it only makes my grin widen.
His hands find my hair, fingers curling tightly around my locks, tugging firmly—sharp enough to sting but slow enough to tease—setting the tone so fast it knocks the breath out of me.
Heat surges through me, but I have to steady myself, remind myself we don’t have all night to make this flirty or even sexy.
There’s no time to ease into it, no room for slow burns or soft teasing.
Just this—raw, urgent, and real.
I take him in my mouth, my tongue swirling around his tip, trying to make it as slick as quickly as I possibly can. I can taste his precum, and I catch every last drop.
I move forward, taking him into my mouth as deep as possible, my hand covering the rest. I'm still not over how big he is. For a skinnier guy hes a) strong and b) hung. I press one hand lightly on his bare thigh, using it to steady myself—feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my palm, grounding me in the moment.
I look up at him, drinking in the way his chest heaved and how his eyes were screwed shut. His mouth is hanging open, He's trying to not moan, I can see it in how he bites his lips, how tight the grip is on my hair. I wish he would, he has the prettiest little moans I've ever heard.
He tells me late at night, when we’re soft and happy and talking about anything and everything, that he doesn’t moan.
I’ve learned otherwise.
And tonight? Tonight is just more proof.
“holy fuck.” he breathed out, as quietly as he could. He's not able to stop himself from thrusting down, his eyes blinking open, a shocked face looking down, looking at me. I look back, hollowing my cheeks, taking him deeper. He hits the back of my throat over and over, im gagging slightly, but not too loud.
I hope.
His hips were shaking now, and he was twitching in my mouth.
"Love can I - " he breaths softly, looking down at me. One of his hands is now detangled from my hair, finding its way to my cheeks.
Even now, like this, he’s soft with me.
Despite everything, there’s a gentleness in the way he holds me, in the way he lets himself be vulnerable—right here, right now.
“Can I move? Can I…” It’s so cute and honestly downright hot when he says things like that—when he asks sweetly before taking the next step, like he’s checking in, making sure I’m okay. Before he fucks my face.
I nod, mouth still full of him. He smiles at me, hands returning to my hair, further back now, and much tighter.
his hips set a restless pace, it's hard to breathe, but god. If he looks like that he can do anything to me.
My name spills from his lips, soft and quiet—like a prayer. Like a plea.
It catches in my chest, a tender weight I didn’t expect but don’t want to ignore.
He moves a hand, ushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead, my fingers trembling just a little.
Tears start to well in my eyes, blurring my vision until I can’t see him clearly anymore. My body feels like it’s on fire—every nerve alive, every breath catching like it’s too much and not enough all at once.
“god, fuck, yeah-,” he stumbles over his own words, the pleasure taking over him completely.
Will's muscles are strained in his long sleeves, and he pushes my head further down him.
He groans quietly—low, guttural, a sound that vibrates through me and sets something deep loose.
I blink, tears falling from my face. His pace falters for a second, but I softly move my fingers on his thigh.
Its okay, keep going.
His pace resumes, but not for long. “sh-shit, I’m gonna… fuck.” his body began to shake, and I restrict my mouth around him one last time. His pace stops, and his body shudders forward. Hands still firmly tangled in my hair.
I felt his hot, desperate load down fall down my throat.
and I swallow all of it, like a goddamn champ. I clean off his cock with my tongue and finally let him drop from my mouth, wiping the sides of my lips with my thumb. He whimpers, clearly overstimulated, and is looking at me like I just sucked his soul clean out of him.
Maybe I did.
Will is still catching his breath, chest rising and falling as he recovers. I revel in the site. A silent I did this to him.
He pulls his jeans back up his body, fixing his belt. Then, slow and steady, he extends a hand to lift me off the floor.
His fingers brush the tears from my face, wiping them away gently. He smiles at me—sweetly, innocently—as if we hadn’t just committed filthy sin in his mate’s storage cupboard.
He kisses me, deeply, and tastes all of himself on my tongue.
"Holy… Fuck" he says. Our faces only inches away. "You weren't kidding about five minutes. I've never cum that quick in my life".
"What can I say? I'm a woman of my word, I say, cheeks very warm. I can feel my own heat sticking through my underwear. I'll have to sort myself out later, when the flat is empty.
Oh my god. The flat isn't empty.
If anything its very full.
Will’s breath is still warm on my neck.
We haven’t said anything in a minute, he's holding me close to him, his back still against the door, like he didn’t actually want to pull away. My chest is flush against his and his hands are still resting on my waist like he's forgotten how to let go.
“Think they’ll notice I’m gone?” he mutters, voice low against my skin.
I don’t get the chance to answer, because right then, through the door, we hear it:
“Oi, where’s Will?” George.
Will stiffens. I feel it immediately — every muscle in him goes tense.
Shit.
We’re still standing way too close. I try to move but he doesn’t step back. Not right away. He just lifts his head, eyes flicking toward the door like he can see straight through it.
“He was just here?” says Arthur-who-i-do-live-with.
They don’t sound suspicious. Yet. Just drunk. Loud. Careless.
Will finally shifts, just enough to ease the weight between us, but he doesn’t step away.
His arms stay around me, loose but certain, like letting go isn’t an option yet. One hand trails slowly down my arm, brushing my skin in a way that sends shivers up my spine—but instead of stopping, he links our fingers together, holding me there.
Close.
Warm.
Silent, but full of something neither of us dares to name.
I take a shaky breath, still wrapped in him, pretending I’m fine.
Not flushed.
Not trembling.
Not wildly aware that we’re tucked away in my bedroom with friends just metres away and his heartbeat still thudding against mine.
And even though we should be moving, disappearing before anyone notices—we don’t.
Because neither of us wants to be the first to pull away.
“Bathroom?” someone says. Then there’s the sound of doors opening — hallway cupboard. Not mine.
“This is bad,” I whisper.
He shrugs, but his eyes are still locked on the door like it might vanish if he stares hard enough. “Only if they find me.”
I look up at him quickly. He grins. Bastard.
“Come on, we’re heading out!” Chris calls. Muffled, but definitely closer. “Will, don’t make me come find you!”
Outside, someone knocks on the bathroom door. A beat of silence. Then George again: “If he’s having a tactical, he better hurry the hell up.”
They’re all still yelling and fumbling around out there, no idea he’s right here, ten feet from them — hair messy because of me, shirt untucked because of me. I hold onto him, heart racing.
Will and I both freeze when we hear the bathroom door open.
“Nope,” George calls. “He’s not in there. Ghosted us.”
Will glances at me. He looks amused.
I don’t.
Outside, footsteps echo down the hallway — Chris stomping like he’s on a mission, Arthur’s voice somewhere behind him, probably making sarcastic commentary, and Stephen mumbling something about just leaving without Will entirely.
Will leans his head closer to the voices, listening carefully.
He holds up a finger: wait.
And then, the second their voices fade past my room and toward the front of the flat, he opens the door just enough to slip out.
It happens fast. Quiet. Like he’s done this before.
But right before he disappears fully into the hallway, he glances back at me — not a smirk this time, not a wink. Just… a look.
I don’t know what it means.
Then he’s gone.
I hear his voice seconds later, chiming in with the group like he’s been there the whole time.
“Oi, I was getting my jacket. Calm down.”
They laugh—one of those tired, half-drunk bursts of laughter that echoes down the hall.
Chris curses him out, but it’s half-hearted, more fond than furious.
And I can hear Stephen’s already halfway out the door—his voice going all echoey as it carries from the shared hallway, fading in and out between open space and walls.
They’re leaving.
They think Will’s just behind them.
And I’m still here, tangled up in him, trying to catch my breath while pretending this doesn’t feel like more than it’s meant to be.
But then there’s a pause.
A beat.
Arthur's voice isn’t loud — just close. “…You didn’t get your jacket from Y/Ns room, though.”
Silence.
My phone buzzes.
I ignore it.
It’s probably Ruth. Or maybe it’s Chris asking if I want to come with them. Either way, I don’t have it in me to check right now.
I curl onto my bed, knees pulled in, face pressed to the pillow that still smells like his shampoo. I can still sort of hear them, I guess they're at the front door, dicking around with the uber app, realising they need an XL.
Will’s voice is the first I catch.
“yeah were… It’s… a thing. Kind of.”
The words hit like a slap I saw coming but didn’t move fast enough to dodge.
I don’t even know what the question was. Doesn’t matter.
The way he says it — awkward, hesitant, like he’s embarrassed to say more — that’s the part that sticks.
Not a relationship.
Not I really like her.
Just a thing. Kind of.
God.
What happened to "it's kind of nice, actually." from before?
There’s a short silence, and then George pipes up, far too quickly.
“I’m happy for you, mate.”
But his voice betrays him. There’s something sharp under the words. Brittle.
And the others go quiet, like they heard it too.
I go still, barely breathing, straining to hear anything else — but the silence that follows says enough.
Because I know George, better than most.
Will doesn’t reply right away.
I imagine him there — shifting uncomfortably, maybe rubbing the back of his neck like he does when he’s not sure if he should push or back off.
I almost wish I could see his face.
Almost.
A few minutes later, I hear the front door shut. Voices blur into the street noise—Chris yelling something, someone laughing too hard—and then the house finally settles.
Quieter. But not quiet.
Not in my head.
I don’t move. I just sit there, staring at the chipped edge of my bedside table like it might tell me what I’m meant to feel.
I want to be angry.
At George, for whatever that was.
At Will, for saying "It’s... a thing. Kind of.”
Like I’m a side quest. A rumour. A shrug.
But the worst part is—
he's not wrong.
That’s what we agreed to. No pressure. No label. Nothing real.
Just fun.
But it's not just fun anymore. I'm sure of it. It's changed somewhere.
Somewhere between when he notices when I’ve had a bad day before I say a word.
When he brings me the crisps I always pretend I don’t want. When he lingers after everyone else has left — just long enough to ask if I’m okay, but not long enough to make it obvious.
Somewhere in the way he kisses me like he means it.
I rub my palms down my jeans, still not sure if I want to scream, cry, or just disappear into the mattress entirely. There’s a twisting feeling in my chest—hot and stupid and hard to name.
Not heartbreak.
But definitely something cracked.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, screen lighting up in the dim room.
lol cat’s out the bag
The boys are teasing me for how fucked my hair looks.
I don’t respond to him, not yet.
You alright? Want me to come back up?
I stare at the screen, thumb hovering over the reply bubble, but I don’t type anything. Because I don’t know what I’d say. Not yet.
Lol
Probably should've thought that more through
Enjoy your night!!
I feel so tired now. The heat in my cheeks is long gone, replaced by something strange and hollow—like whatever was burning in me has cooled too quickly, leaving just the ash behind.
I want to forget about George, I really do. Because this—this sharp edge under his words—it's not just a random mood swing. It’s personal. And it’s unfair. Because he was the one who rejected me. Not the other way around. But I don’t want to think about George. I don’t want to untangle the way my chest tightens when I hear his voice. Or the way his eyes flicker when he catches me looking. I want to focus on Will.
But George—George is a weight I can’t shake, and it feels like he’s dragging me back every time I try to move forward.
And it’s not fair. Not to me. Not to anyone. I rub my palms against my trousers , willing the knot in my stomach to loosen.
But it won’t.
xxx
Taglsit: @meglouise00@migilini @thankyoulovely @mosviqu @formulaal @jonnybernthalslover @tiredqzl @mrswillne @ravenaz
#george clarke#george clarkey#george clarke x reader#george clarkey x reader#george clarke fics#george clarke fluff#george clarke imagine#will lenney#WillNE#willne x reader#willne fic#willne fluff#willne imagine#ukyt#george clarkey angst#willne angst#will lenney smut#willne smut#george clarke smut#george clarkey smut#The Edges of Us
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
[Devour] Chapter 2: Yearning
Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x fem!reader
Word count: 4.5K
Warnings: please read my blog's rules before interacting. 18+ mdni, angst, eventual smut, hurt/no comfort, explicit sexual content, undertones of misogyny (because the 'olden days'), mature themes, depiction of gore and violence, mentions of pregnancy and abortion. Please note that these warnings pertain to the entire series as a whole, and not just to this specific chapter.
Tags: mini series, angst, smut, Heian Era, true form Sukuna
Summary: Sukuna brings you back to a temple, where he resides. There you also meet Uraume. You begin to doubt if running away was the best idea, but then, Sukuna offers to be your ally. Unbeknownst to you, he has his own ulterior motives for helping you.
A/N: It's here! Not going to lie, I struggled a bit with this chapter. Since this is a mini series, I would say we're already about 35% through the story, things will progress quickly in the upcoming chapters. Based on my planning, I'm looking at about four more chapters. I don't have an exact release date for Chapter 3 like I did with this chapter, but I'll post an update when it's almost complete! If you would like to be added on the tag list for this series, please let me know/leave a comment here. Thank you so much for reading and stay tuned. x
Masterlist: < Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 >

Sukuna had always deemed love meaningless. It was a feeling that held people back, making them irrational and reckless. Over the years, he had witnessed the greatest kingdoms burn and the strongest men fall, all in the name of 'love.' But the tragedy lay in the fact that, after all was said and done, that love seldom lasted. At the end of the day, people were weak and fickle, rendering love volatile. He often wanted to ask those who sacrificed everything for love: Was it all worth it in the end?
In order to attain his height of power—to become the strongest—Sukuna had given up everything, including his humanity. He had mastered the art of detachment, for attachments only served to tie one down. Letting go of all things was the inevitable cost of power, but it was an easy and insignificant sacrifice for someone like him—who had nothing to lose in the first place.
Yet, despite the King of Curses' strong convictions, there remained one glaring contradiction in his life: you. No matter how hard he tried, he could not detach himself from you. Even after all these years, his burning desire for you was a flame he could not quell, and it only seemed to grow hungrier with time.
Throughout the years, Sukuna had conditioned himself into believing that you were always going to be an unattainable dream—a fantasy that was never meant to become reality. It was better that it remained this way. You deserved to live a peaceful life, and he could continue to live out his days as the King of Curses without restraint.
But what should he do—now that his dream had become reality?
For someone with a wretched life like his, he never believed in any gods. But for the first time in his life, the King of Curses acknowledged that this reunion must have been the universe's divine will—a preordained fate. It seemed that the two of you were destined to be together.
Yes, he thought to himself, since the universe has willed it, then you shall be his exception.
He vowed that as long as he kept you by his side, you would not be a source of his weakness.
At this realization, a dark possessiveness took over him.
This time he would stake his claim.
---
Though you were no longer the little girl Sukuna had once met, he couldn't help but notice how small you were under his hold. Some things didn't change; you were still his little flower.
“It’s me, flower,” he said, urgency creeping into his voice as if he were calling into your subconscious, imploring you to remember.
You trembled in his embrace; the adrenaline coursing through you made it difficult to think straight. His words did not register as you struggled to gather your chaotic thoughts, while your mind screamed at you to run.
You remind me of flowers. The voice suddenly echoed in your mind.
“R-Ryo?” you gasped, finally making the connection.
With shaking hands, you roamed his figure, seeking confirmation in the darkness. Your fingertips softly brushed over his features. Was this a dream? Had you already died? How was it that after all these years, he was finally here—especially in your most dire moment? The surrealness of this situation felt too good to be true.
“I-It really is you,” your voice quivered with emotion. “I-I can't believe it. All this time... I thought I would never see you again."
“I'm here now, flower,” he said, capturing your hand in his. “Come with me; it’s not safe.”
Before you could utter another word, he effortlessly scooped you up, and you instinctively held on to him, tightening your grip, afraid that if you let go he would slip away again.
Sukuna traversed the forest at an inhuman speed. He seemed to know the terrain well, navigating it with ease, but for you, all you saw was unending darkness; the gust of wind threading through your hair was the only sign that you were moving. Your heart raced as he cradled you against his strong body; you could feel the heat radiating from him, evoking a warm and familiar feeling within you—a feeling that you have yearned for so many years.
Moments later, you found yourself in a clearing. Under the clear night sky, vast greenery and towering mountains loomed around you. At the foot of one mountain, a grand tree stood beside an ancient temple. Sukuna gently set you on your feet, and now that you were out in the clearing, you could get a better look at him. Standing before you was no longer the little boy from your memories; he had transformed into a formidable man—perhaps the largest person you had ever seen. He wore an oversized kimono, his bare chest exposed, and his muscular build attested to the life he had lived throughout the years. Your gaze was then drawn to the unmistakable bloodstains on his clothing.
“Are you hurt?” your brows furrowed in concern as your hand ghosted over the stains.
“Nothing worth fretting over; they do not belong to me,” he said, a smile involuntarily curving his lips at the concern you displayed.
Sukuna lifted your chin to meet his gaze. In the moonlight, he could see you with much more clarity.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, a hint of longing evident in his eyes.
Heat rushed to your face at his touch, but you were grateful that the night concealed it.
“How did you know to find me?" you quietly asked.
“The forest and the mountain are my domain,” Sukuna replied, brushing his thumb over your lower lip, as if he was trying to engrave your features into his memory. “You were lucky I found you before something else did.”
Something in your gut told you it couldn't have been mere coincidence, but you decided to keep that thought to yourself. It wasn't the time nor the place for interrogations.
"I see," you smiled wearily. "Thank you... you saved me yet again."
Your words stirred a nostalgic memory within him.
As you continued to stand there in silence, the brave facade you had been putting up began to crumble. All the events that had led you to this moment settled within you, and the feelings you had long suppressed surged to the surface—grief, resentment, confusion, fear, relief, yearning—a tempest you could no longer keep at bay.
“All these years, I’ve been searching for you,” your voice cracked, tears brimming in your eyes.
"I know," he replied, his tone low and hushed.
“Y-You did?"
Sukuna nodded.
"Then why, Ryo? Did you not want to see me?” Your chest tightened at his admission, and tears began to roll down your face.
“It was for the best.” Sukuna's jaw clenched. The sight of you crying evoked a sense of dread within him.
“The best for who?”
A brief silence hung in the air, heavy with unspoken words.
“That no longer matters, flower. We're here now, and I won't let you go again,” he said, gently wiping a stray tear from your face.
You knew he was hiding something from you, but that mattered little right now. Your body reacted before your mind, and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.
---
Wooden floors creaked beneath you as you crossed the threshold of the temple, and an inexplicable wave of energy washed over you. It was intense yet comforting, like the warmth of the sun—like him.
The temple was small and modest, but it felt peaceful and comfortable. It was also evident that the wooden interior had been well-maintained despite how ancient it was. The air was filled with the soothing scents of incense and cedarwood.
The earlier conversation with Sukuna loomed over you, leaving so many questions unanswered. While you could still sense a semblance of the little boy within him, he also felt unfamiliar and distant; after all, so much time had passed. You longed to know everything about him, to fill in the gaps, but perhaps that would have to wait.
As you took a closer look around the main hall, your eyes wandered to the beautifully crafted sliding doors at the back, which were fully open to reveal a serene garden that captivated you with its lush greenery and vibrant flowers.
“It’s so beautiful,” you breathed.
Sukuna looked at you under the soft glow of the candlelight illuminating the hall, and your heart began to race under his gaze amid the intimacy of the setting. He watched you intently as if he could hear the intense beating of your heart—
“Sukuna-sama, you’re back,” a gentle voice cut through the air.
You turned to find a young person standing there. Their gender was ambiguous, but their appearance reminded you of winter's first snowfall. They exuded a calm and serene presence.
“Uraume,” Sukuna acknowledged, gesturing toward you. “She is with me. Draw her a bath and prepare some fresh clothes. I’ll get a fire started.”
“Yes, Sukuna-sama,” Uraume replied, hastily leaving for the back of the temple.
You watched as Sukuna stripped off his kimono, revealing his muscular upper body adorned with tattoos.
“Ryo, where are you going?” you asked, trying to mask the fluster in your voice.
Sukuna turned back to look at you with a smile. “I’m going to hunt some game. We’ll fill our stomachs before going to bed.”
---
The warmth of the hot spring quickly melted away the stress of the day. You still could not wrap your head around the uncanny turn of events; it felt like a nightmare turned dream. Instead of being married to Lord Yamamoto, you were now reunited with the one person who had always occupied your thoughts. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you reached for a washcloth to gently remove your makeup. You knew that there would be other matters to address later, but for now, you wanted to savor this brief respite.
Sinking the lower half of your head into the water, you blew small bubbles, and images of Sukuna and the man he had become flashed in your mind, sending a warmth throughout your body.
Sukuna's renown had been spreading in recent years, and you were acutely aware of his reputation. Whispers surrounded him, calling him the King of Curses—the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of the era. There was much debate over whether he was merely a man or a deity, while others believed him to be a demon in disguise. Your village, having a strong aversion to jujutsu sorcery, viewed it as more of a curse than a gift and seemed to believe he was nothing short of a demon.
Regardless, you had only ever known him as Ryo, so you never gave much thought to the rumors. Man, deity, or demon—whatever he was, you would have accepted him unconditionally. Despite the time apart, you still felt an inexplicable tether to him.
I won't let you go again.
Those words stirred an emotion within you when he had initially spoken them, but doubts and hesitation lingered in your mind. Had it not been for your current predicament, you would have been more inclined to stay with him.
You held your breath and submerged yourself entirely beneath the warm water, hoping to silence these chaotic thoughts—even if just for a moment.
---
Feeling refreshed as you stepped out of the temple in a new set of clothes, you noticed that a fire had already been started and that Uraume was preparing some vegetables.
“Uraume-san,” you smiled as you walked over, “is there anything I can help you with?”
“Y/N-san,” Uraume exclaimed, a gentle light in their eyes. “All the preparations are nearly complete. Why don’t you sit by the fire first? Sukuna-sama should be back soon.”
You hesitated and looked to see if there was still anything to help with, but noticing how there was not much else, you acquiesced and made your way to the fire. You watched in awe as Uraume skillfully finished the last touches of their work. Soon after, they settled down beside you. It was a comfortable silence between the two of you, accompanied by the crackling of the fire.
“Have you and Ryo always lived here?” you tried to make conversation.
Uraume nodded, their expression thoughtful. “We’ve lived here for quite some time. I owe him my life.”
You looked at Uraume, curiosity piqued.
“I was at death’s door when he found me as a child,” Uraume confessed softly. “He took me under his wing.”
“He’s always been kind.” You smiled contemplatively.
“Yes,” Uraume agreed. There was a brief pause. “He…has also mentioned you before.”
“He has?”
Uraume nodded. “He said there was once a girl he met who lived in a village not too far from here. She was as kind as she was beautiful, and she reminded him of flowers. When I saw you, I knew you were that girl.”
It warmed your heart to know that he had spoken about you, but it also felt bittersweet.
“Ah, he’s back,” Uraume remarked, glancing behind you.
Your eyes widened at the spectacular sight before you. Sukuna had a deer slung over his shoulder, effortlessly making his way toward the two of you; he trekked as if the deer weighed nothing.
Sukuna dropped the deer by the fire, and Uraume instinctively got up, ready to prepare the meat. You watched as Sukuna slashed the deer's throat, collecting the blood in a bowl. A wave of queasiness washed over you, and you looked away, unable to face the brutal sight. Sukuna settled down beside you while Uraume got to work, efficiently cutting up the rest of the deer.
“Drink every last drop,” he commanded, handing the bowl to you.
“I—I don't think I can,” you put your hand out in defense, the metallic stench making your stomach churn.
“You are malnourished,” he said, grabbing your wrist to examine its size. “Have you not been looking after yourself?”
“I have,” you insisted, attempting to wiggle your wrist free from his grasp. His touch felt searing against your skin.
“You will drink this, unless you would like me to feed you,” Sukuna insisted, handing you the bowl once more, the intensity in his eyes leaving no room for argument.
You took the bowl in both hands, trembling slightly. As you watched the thick red liquid swirl inside, you held your breath and brought it to your lips, tilting it ever so slightly and allowing the liquid to slip into your mouth and down your throat. Just as you were about to lower the bowl, Sukuna's hand clasped over yours, tilting the bowl upward to ensure you finished everything.
“That’s it, flower—every last drop,” he said, his voice low and steady. When he was satisfied that you had consumed all of it, he released his grip and took the bowl from your hands. You gagged at the aftertaste, coughing as a trickle of blood ran down your chin. Sukuna's eyes grew dark at the sight; he wiped the blood from your chin with his thumb, then licked it clean.
“Ryo—!” you gasped, teary-eyed. “N-no more of that, please.”
“That will depend on how well you eat,” a hint of playfulness threaded through his voice.
“Do you drink this too?” you asked, clearing your throat.
"Of course, the blood of a deer is a highly nutritious delicacy. Did you know in some places, it is a drink shared by a married couple on their wedding night?" Sukuna smirked.
You shudder at the thought. This blood drinking experience was something that you hoped would be your first and last. But the slight implication that Sukuna made at the end also made you a bit shy.
Uraume handed a plate of skewered meat to Sukuna, and you marveled at how quickly they had prepared it. You watched as Sukuna stabbed each skewer into the ground by the fire, your attention lingering on the flames that seemed to beckon you.
"I should have whisked you away from the village earlier, had I known you were not being fed properly." Sukuna intently watched you with one of his eyes, sensing your tension.
"Well, why didn't you?" you muttered. The words escaped your mouth before you could stop it.
You were sure he had his reasons for staying away, yet you couldn’t hide your disappointment in him for keeping his distance. So much precious time had been lost, and so many what-ifs lingered in your mind.
It was juvenile, but you often dreamt of how the two of you would grow up together—an inseparable duo, the best of friends. Then, when you came of age, he would have asked you to follow him, and you would have gladly followed him anywhere. The two of you would travel all over the land, experiencing the world side by side. Perhaps, somewhere along the way, he would have asked you to marry him, and you would have said 'yes' without skipping a beat—
"Come now, don't sulk, flower," Sukuna said, breaking you out of your thoughts. "You're here now. We will make up for lost time."
"You speak as if I'm going to be staying here for good," you couldn't help but challenge him a little.
It might have been your imagination, but you thought his expression darkened for a split second.
"It sounds like you have somewhere to go then."
"I—well, I didn’t have too much time to think details. But I planned to make my way to a far out village, where no one will be able to find me."
"That would be difficult," Sukuna hummed.
"It’s worth a try… better than yielding to the fate I was subjugated to." You hugged your knees.
"Enlighten me, what was someone’s bride doing in the middle of the forest?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
There was a hesitation in telling him about your plight, but you knew it was also an unavoidable topic—after all, he had saved you, so an explanation was due at the very least.
“I ran away… from a marriage I wanted no part of.”
“How bold,” he chuckled. “It’s very like you.”
“It’s hardly a laughing matter, Ryo,” you huffed, anxiety evident in your voice.
“But you've successfully escaped. Should this not be a cause to celebrate?” he cocked an eyebrow.
“I don't know if I would consider it successful just yet," you narrowed your eyes. "I didn’t just run away from any man; I ran away from a lord. My village hoped to leverage my marriage with Lord Yamamoto for aid. There will be repercussions for my actions.”
Sukuna listened as he rotated the skewers.
"Hm, I suppose that is quite the predicament. Whatever shall you do then?" His question came out more like a taunt than a show of concern.
"Are you mocking my situation?" You frowned, your expression dropping as self-doubt crept in. You had to admit that you'd been reckless with your decision, and you didn't exactly have a reliable plan. You wouldn’t have even made it out of the forest had it not been for Sukuna.
“Of course not. Don't look so defeated," he softly tsked, smoothing the crease between your brows with his fingers.
You looked at him with a mixture of surprise and hesitation.
"Is there any reason for you to worry if I am going to be by your side?" he returned your gaze, a burning confidence in his eyes.
“It’s not so simple, Ryo. I don’t want you to be caught in my problems—”
“A mere lord and your measly village is not a problem,” Sukuna replied, passing a skewer to you.
You reluctantly accepted the skewer, your fingers momentarily brushing against his hand during the exchange. As divine as the meat smelled, you couldn't bring yourself to eat; your worries and anxiety loomed large over your head.
"It's not going to eat itself if you keep staring at it," Sukuna sighed, crossing his four arms and giving you a stern look.
Taking a tiny bite, your eyes momentarily lit up. It tasted even better than it smelled. Before you knew it, you had devoured the entire skewer, and Sukuna was already handing you another one. Perhaps you were hungrier than you had thought, but his pleased expression did not escape you—he cared, and that alone filled you with immense happiness.
"Do you not wish to stay here?" he asked, breaking the silence.
"It's not about what I want," you shook your head. "What if something happens to both of you because of me?"
"You needn't worry about us, Y/N-san; we are more than capable of dealing with Lord Yamamoto," Uraume smiled at you. Their gentle reassurance only seemed to amplify your guilt.
"We can't be sure of that—"
“Are you not aware of what they call me?”
You sighed, a sense of apprehension filling your chest. "I am..."
“Then if you know my reputation, you should understand that even if Lord Yamamoto and his entire arsenal, along with your village, were to descend upon us right now, they would not stand a chance.”
Sukuna seemed adamant about helping, but that only served to heighten your uneasiness. It wasn't that you doubted his capabilities; but you also understood that your actions would have dire consequences. A runaway bride of Lord Yamamoto wasn't a matter that would be overlooked so easily. Surely, the four men who had escorted you had reported back to their lord that you had escaped. Even if Sukuna could easily deal with them, he would be branded a criminal—forever having to be on the run. He had endured enough hardships in his life, and it felt like you were only adding to his strife. You didn't deserve this kindness from him; his life was fine before you came along.
"This will be your home. You will be safe as long as you stay by my side. So stay here, Y/N.” An unexpected possessiveness laced Sukuna's voice.
You looked up at Sukuna in surprise; you had never heard him call your name before. His eyes silently pleaded with you to stay—shattering your resolve.
"Tell me you need my help, flower," Sukuna urged, looking into your eyes with an intensity that made your breath hitch.
A lingering silence filled the air, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the rhythm of your heartbeat.
"Help me, Ryo…" you finally said.
---
You hadn't felt so full in a long time. Sukuna had ensured you ate your share of food before retiring to bed. Following behind him, you were led to your sleeping accommodations, and to your surprise, he took you into his chamber, which overlooked a small private garden and hot spring.
The temple was modest in size, containing only two bedrooms. It didn’t feel right to intrude on Uraume's private quarters, especially since it was Sukuna's decision to keep you, but he also couldn’t deny he had other intentions.
Before crawling into bed, you turned to meet Sukuna's gaze.
“Ryo… I don’t know how I could ever repay you. If there's anything I can do for you, you must tell me," you said earnestly.
“Hmm,” he paused, feigning contemplation.
You looked at him eagerly, trying to anticipate what he could ask for.
"Anything?" he drawled, rubbing his chin.
You nodded.
“Alright," he smirked, "swear yourself to me.”
Your eyes widened. You weren’t exactly sure what that entailed, but you trusted him implicitly. He most likely needed an extra hand with taking care of the temple and doing some extra work around here.
“A-are you sure that’s all you want? That hardly seems adequate, I am troubling you after all.” You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeves.
"You undermine yourself, flower."
“Oh, well, I do have many skills I could offer, and I promise to be useful around here. I’m quite knowledgeable about plants, herbs, and flowers. I may not be as good a cook as Uraume, but—”
"Staying by my side is enough," he interjected.
There was a sincerity in his voice that was new to you, making your heart do flips inside your chest.
"Ryo..." you spoke quietly, clasping your hands tightly. "I might misunderstand if you're so kind to me."
Oh, what a delight you were. Sukuna felt an intense urge to smother you.
“Well, what if I wanted more than just your domestic skills?” he asked lowly, taking a lock of your hair into his hands.
Your heart raced, and suddenly the room felt hot as you understood his implications.
“Is that… what you truly desire?"
"And if it is?"
There was a brief pause.
Just this morning, you were still in utter despair, wholly expecting to be wedded to a monster. But now, in this moment, it was not Lord Yamamoto before you, but rather the man of your dreams—the only man you had wished to marry. He had long claimed your mind and heart; what more was your body?
"Then take me," your voice was barely above a whisper.
Sukuna’s eyes darkened, but why did he feel so disappointed by your response? It almost rolled off your tongue too easily.
"You would just give yourself to any man, so long as they ask?"
"N-no, you misunderstand!"
Sukuna remained silent, the look in his eyes demanding you to elaborate.
"If that were true, I wouldn’t have ran away from Lord Yamamoto. You're not just any man to me, Ryo. I—" love you. The heat crept up to your ears.
Your timid confession sent a chilling thrill through his body, awakening a primal hunger within him, he could no longer resist.
“Do you truly wish to be mine?” he asked, tucking your hair behind your ear. You felt dizzy under his touch and gaze.
"Yes..."
"Look at me and say it." He hissed.
"I'm yours, Ryo. I want to be yours." You met his eyes and gently took his hand, placing it over your heart, hoping he could feel how violently it was beating against your chest.
“You didn’t need to ask me to swear myself to you; I would have gladly followed you anywhere. I've felt that way ever since we were children.”
Sukuna was rarely caught off guard. The first time he recalled was when you approached him as a child, and the second was this very moment. You had just confessed your feelings for him and expressed a desire to stay with him of your own volition. Nobody else had ever been able to elicit these feelings from him, and the dominion you unknowingly held over him was both terrifying and thrilling.
"Then I will take you, flower—your heart, body, and soul."
Without sparing another moment, he wrapped his hand behind your head and crushed his lips against yours in a searing kiss. The world around you fell silent.
For once, it felt as if the universe had smiled upon his wretched life.

Writing © xechu - please do not redistribute, translate, or repost any of my works.
I do not own any of the pictures or photos used in this banner. Right-hand art is done by © sin_zany on Instagram.

Taglist: @paradisestarfishh @ssetsuka
#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#jjk fanworks#jjk angst#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#xechu#xechu fanfics#jjk smut#jjk x you#ryomen sukuna x y/n#ryomen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fandom#jujutsu kaisen fic#jjk fic#ryomen sukuna#jjk ryomen#sukuna ryomen smut#ryomen x you#ryomen x y/n#jjk sukuna#sukuna smut#sukuna series
107 notes
·
View notes
Text
REMIX 30 ANALYSIS
So I put out a new mashup recently. It's a mashup of Remix 10 from Rhythm Heaven Fever, which I think is one of if not my favorite video game song ever made. I use a mashup of it (Remix 200 Super Deluxe Ultra Special Plus) as my stream intro. But I made that almost 5 years ago! So I figured it was time for an update (among Other Reasons). I've been using Remix 30 as my new stream intro by manually syncing an audio player with the video until I make an actual video for it.
Naturally, a lot of thought went into this mashup, and someone asked for an analysis of it. I was absolutely going to do that anyway.
[Obligatory "death of the author reigns supreme, and if you find your own meaning in this then fuck yeah"]
Also this is gonna be looooooooooooooong so here's a cut for convenience
For those that don't know, Remix 10 is a medley of every minigame in Rhythm Heaven Fever. As such, I'll be breaking this down by section. But first some overall notes
So this is the fifth time I have made a mashup of Remix 10. In order, they are "Remix 10, Baby" (released with Rhythm Purgatory, and was at the end of my first real mashup album), "Remix 20" (released with Rhythm Valhalla, meant replace every song from R10B), "Remix 200 SDUSP" (mentioned above, released as my stream intro. Made to be a combination of 10 and 20, taking the best from both), "201" (made for fun since I found a fun instrumental cover of Remix 10. It's 200 with very slight differences), and, of course, Remix 30. All 4 before this have some kind of DNA in Remix 30.
A lot of this analysis will be discussing the changes made from 200 to 30, but also where the DNA for these other versions still remain.
Opening: I've used The Distance as the opener since Remix 20, and I doubt I'll ever stop. I moved over to the live version in 201 and shortened it up in 30. I like the live version because I think it really reflects the general nature of how I work. Very improvised and off-the cuff. Rough around the edges (like how the bass starts a little out of time), but that's okay.
Packing Pests: The lead in with "Can you feel the rush now?" hits so fucking hard. I also replaced "Power" with "Everyone's a Guru Now" in one part because Funny New Jenny Song and another part because fuck you Kanye. Also this is the beginning of me putting songs from "Remix 10, Baby" in the background (with September). My way of showing how I'm standing tall thanks to what came before.
Shrimp Shuffle: I love Fist Bump in this. It's such a dumb joke on the "TOGETHER" sound byte. Till then I've really been trying to find something perfect for the first half. Ruler of Everything seems to do well. It's in swing, the shrimp both walk AND talk. Plus I can put another vocal sample from it as background for the second half.
Board Meeting: Completely unchanged since 20, and really the only minigame in this to hold such an honor. This segment has always been one of my favorite parts of the mashup, but in an understated way. It's not one that I'll sing the praises of, but damn it always hits so wonderfully.
Micro Row: This one really built over the years. All The Small Things from 10, Blitzkrieg Bop from 200, and Stupid Horse from a random tumblr mashup I made one morning. I included it because I Really Like Stupid Horse, Man!!!!
Double Date: Still Alive from 20, and Deadlock from all the way back in Rhythm Purgatory. I wouldn't have been able to truly call this mine without Deadlock. And I even added to it for this one, including the mandolin section that plays at the bridge (which I always loved but never showed that love to)
Donk-Donk: Donk-Donk. Why are you like this? There are only so many 3/4 songs, so I had to go with my default. Half-Caff and Everybody Wants To Rule The World. Although now that I'm typing this out, I thought of something else I might add for the video version.
Fork Lifter: I have no reason to mess with perfection save for the additions made in 200. I specifically remember having the idea for this one while I was leaving my friend's house and heading over to a Starbucks to job hunt on Indeed. But first I had to get Hollaback Girl onto Fork Lifter pronto.
Air Rally: Another one where I added one I put on Tumblr that I think has become my favorite of my Air Rally mashups. Very similar to Micro-Row where it has stuff collected from previous Remix 10 mashups, all the way back to Purgatory!
Cheer Readers: This one's always been an enigma to me. I feel like every time I come back to it for the Remix 10 mashup, I find a completely different song that I want to include, and it never feels QUITE right. This time around it was Makes Me Wonder, which is a song I've loved for a long long time. I felt it was appropriate to replace Smells Like Teen Spirit (a song I like, don't get me wrong, to me it's just a song that you have to respect because it's Smells Like Teen Spirit). It ended up being really fun, since I had to fill out the censored curse word, so I put in "Fuck" from Bonfire (technically a callback!) and just rolled with that. It ended up making what almost sounds like a record spin-type effect that I really dig.
Figure Fighter: So my boyfriend requested I put Tom's Diner in a mashup, which is something I had only really done in one of the Polka medleys. I thought it work great here, since it followed a similar musical arc as the Figure Fighter melody. Fear and Delight is there for a similar reason (although it could be considered a CPUK reference if we wanna get silly with it, which we always do)
Samurai Slice: So, in my mashup albums, one thing I like to do is center one mashup as the "Jojo Containment Zone", and put all the Jojo references in that one concentrated Jojo mashup (even if jojo references slip outside of that one sometimes). Examples of this include "Chasin' Cheddar", the Dark Pit mashup in Smashup, and, importantly for this, any of the Samurai Slice mashups. The original version had Stand Proud and Bloody Stream. I kept Bloody Stream because Bloody Stream is amazing. I replaced Stand Proud with Heaven's Falling Down because Part 6 and lmao girl, and I also included the fanmade opening for Steel Ball Run "Holy Steel". As much as I love reflecting on the past and celebrating it, we move forward. Also, Steel Ball Run means a lot to Sen and I, so that's also for him <3
Flock Step: I always considered Caramelldansen to be sort of a musical cousin to Renai Circulation. Very cutesy, upbeat and in a language I don't understand. I also mashed both of them up with Death Grips because it made for a very fun. Speaking of which, I figured Caramelldansen was here, might as well just make it a Back 3 Back reference! I included the Haunted House of Rock sample first by itself (with the pitch shift) and then a second time mixed the way Naganuma does it in Back 2 Back.
Built To Scale: Speaking of referencing my old mashups. This is literally just Mad Rat Purgatory! I figure that this year I've been really celebrating myself (maybe it's part of coming out), but I felt like my stream intro is as good of a place as any to celebrate that stuff. Incredibly fitting/ironic/whatever word fits this best that the Built to Scale section was always my favorite part of Remix 10.
Screwbot Factory: It didn't need changing since 200. A lot of people really liked the original mashup from Purgatory, which surprised me. It was super low effort, but I guess that's just how it be.
Bossa Nova: This one is a reference to Joy's stream when she played Rhythm Heaven Fever for the first time. She kept on referencing the Nirvana The Band The Show bit every time she saw Bossa Nova. So this one's for you, Joy!
Hole in One: Funny enough I think this one downgraded. I might add more to this one before the video version comes out, so stay tuned.
See-saw: Idk why I included Chu Chu Lovely. I think I always wanted to include it in a mashup somewhere, and something (maybe god idk) told me to put it right here.
Monkey Watch: Man, I love Monkey Watch. It honestly feels like it would be sacrilege to not put Mr Brightside there, since it was The Original Monkey Watch Mashup. The snippet of Revenge was added because it fits with the "Man, I Love Monkey Watch" joke (which I do btw). The only big new change in this one from 200 was the addition of My Rarity, and yes I edited it so that it says "Rarity" instead of "Clarity"
Catch of the Day: I included Transcendental Cha Cha Cha because I genuinely think finding that song helped to get me back into my mashup-making rhythm. I also included One Week, which I originally included because of the "summon fish to the dish" line. I skipped around in the dialogue for the second half, using the line about seeing the Show and how it might cause vertigo (fitting for my YT channel, I think)
Exhibition Match: The most important additions to this were the Mambo No. 5 (included in a previous RH mashup as a counting to 5 joke) and a stealthy addition of "Jai Ho!". I've included a lot of homages to my friends throughout the years. This one in particular is for my friends from high school. While I was in marching band, they were in colorguard, and that was the song they used for warmup. Our friendship has been kinda on again off again in that there are a lot of times where we don't hang out as much as either of us would like, but we still love each other.
Launch Party: Not much of a change for this one from the previous iteration, with the exception of adding more vocals from Brendon Urie. I just really like that line and how it melodically ends the phrase. "The fear, the fear of falling apart"
Love Rap: Another one with pretty much nothing changed from the last iteration. The "oop there goes gravity" bit is an oooooolllllld one from all the way back from early in my friendship with Penny. I know distinctly we joked about "oop there goes gravity" looping when I played through Undertale's genocide route with her, which must have been, like, 8 or 9 years ago?? The addition of Del from Rock the House wasn't until 200, but I think it works perfectly and actually acts as a wonderful example of my general philosophy on making mashups as a whole, but that's another post that you can remind me to make.
Tambourine: This was originally a random song I'd never heard of back in the days of Rhythm Purgatory. Thank God I realized "Hey, The Middle would go amazingly here!" I also added "Here It Goes Again" as a reference to wah.wav. This was also present in 201.
Tap Troupe: I didn't even realize this until later, but this is accidentally a Palette Cleanser reference with Break Free and Shelter playing at the same time. Shelter was included for Sen, since I associate that song (and Porter as a whole) with him. I also kept a bit of Carly Rae in there, since almost every iteration of this segment has had Carly Rae Jepsen.
Flipper Flop: Whoa! A reference to a track from More Than You Can Chew of all things! The track itself "Infinite Flipper Rolls" is meant to be a reference to Remix 20/200 with its inclusion of Toxic on top of the pre-existing I'm Gonna Be while also adding Scatman's World. This simply takes it full circle (similar to 201) by having all three play.
Karate Man: This is an interesting one, since I've swapped out "Sugar, We're Going Down" with "Burnin Up" by the Jonas Brothers. The reason I did that was because I used Burnin' Up in a mashup that I haven't published yet, but I REALLY loved using it in that, so I figured I'd slot it in here.
Tutorial Stage (I don't remember its actual name): This is an interesting evolution that I think is worth tracking. In Remix 10 Baby, it was a snippet of All Star. All Star was to me back then what Monkey Watch kind of is now in way. Like, to the point where I put out an album composed exclusively of All Star mashups. Twice. A song loved to a near memetic extent, but in the album of Remix Purgatory (where R10B is), it hadn't been used once. So this quick segment was used to tease the beginning of All Star. Fast forward to Remix 20, which was at the end of Rhythm Valhalla, and this segment held a similar function. To tease at a running joke. In that example, it was the beginning of Monkey Watch. Once I made 200, I decided to actually make it About Something. That being my Smash main, Iggy, which is a large part of my online identity. I referenced it with Iggy Azalea spelling her name in "Fancy" (which, fun fact, a joke about that song is the reason I chose to play as Iggy when I first picked up the character), followed by Iggy's laugh, which I use as my follow alert sound! With 30, I figured I would lean into Iggy a bit more, having the musical choice instead reference the Friday part of Iggy, since Iggy Friday has become a similarly large part of my identity. I still included the Smash Announcer in case anyone didn't get the hint from the laugh.
Ringside: This one is incomplete. I took out MEGALOVANIA in this version because I couldn't get it to line up just right for whatever reason. I need to put it back in because pose for the sans is important to me almost on the same level as Scratch-o! I DID add Break Stuff, mostly as a kind of shoutout to OotM, although it's a pretty incomplete one. It doesn't even have London Bridge.
Working Toe-ugh: I looked around, and I think the bit of putting Toes in every line of Tik Tok started in Rhythm Nirvana. I know I made a post with a simple toe edit a long time ago, but I cant find it. Now in (almost) every mashup that uses Tik Tok, I hide a "toes" somewhere. This one is a lot more apparent (and even has people repeating it back in chat). The addition to this one is the legendary Breaking Bad Season 3-5 Remix because the melody of Working Dough reminded me of the opening melody of the remix (and the "instrumentation" even sounds kinda similar)
Night Walk: "Dreams Of Our Generation" is a pretty important song within the Rhythm Heaven catalogue. It's one of the four non-remix songs with vocals, and it's the credits song for Fever. I think it deserves respect. So I consider it an anchor of sorts. In 10B, it was All Star, which was sort of my song. It was also the only song unchanged from 10B to 20. In 200, I added the whistle in the background to back it up along with Tank's 3, 2, 1, let's jam! 30 is the first time I really changed that. I replaced the chorus of All Star with Shut Up And Dance, alongside 867-5309. Two songs that I've very heavily associated with this coming out and this transformation. However, I did leave the All Star Whistle, because even with all of these huge changes, the core of me is still there. Maybe that core was Jenny all along.
Anyway, this was long as hell. I obviously had a lot to think about, and for a lot of different reasons. Like I said, Remix 10 means a whole lot to me, and I think following the evolution of this mashup has worked well as a look back on myself. I doubt this will be my last Remix 10 mashup, since I'm always growing and changing, but at the end of the day, I love Remix 10, I love music, and I love myself.
And to change is to love.
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
Previous updates : #1 - #2 - #3
Previous polls : #1 - #2
Note : this project is going to take me some time because of the reasons under here. Most of it is based on how I want townies to generate and making CAS an easier and less time consuming experience for everyone !
I'm a college student 😭
I have to make sure they look fine for the townies more so that if you use random sim fixes or simler's core mod to get rid of pudding faces, they won't look out of place
I have to make sure each and every preset can be used with one another, so I actually have rules and numbers that I need to respect for the sliders I modify ex. : most of the noses height are set to -50, because it looks good on both genders and all ages and fits the new headshapes and their new height
I have to make sure that even though they're generic, they're also different from eachother and don't have same face syndrome
I have to make sure that they're diverse and find the right balance
Certain sliders I have to add manually (that takes time) because they do not get exported with the Face Preset Editor
As I said in previous update, I will only release this when I'm fully done with every single presets of each category : eyes, mouths, heads and noses, since it's easier that way for me and better for you guys as well :)
What's different this time ?
Well I've opted for a different approach, remember when I said I wasn't going to change the look of the original head presets ? well I changed my mind, since I've been asked to include defined headshapes a few times which I said I would do in a different set of non default face presets but I decided that doing this way instead would be better since it could include defined headshapes but also the other headshapes (Oval, Square, Round, Slightly Longer) - (Excluding the World Adventure's asian presets, they will recieve their own modification)
For the heads everything has been changed to : 2 Ovals, 2 Heart/Defined, 2 Rounds, 2 Squares, 2 Slightly Longer. (10 in total) The same shapes won't be identical of course.
For the eyes, they need small modifications
For the mouths, It needs more of a balance and diversity
For the noses, they need a complete overhaul
All the new flavors
There is now 6 flavors for version 2 of the headshapes with all the polls I've made. Thank you for all the answers by the way it really helps direct this project to better understand what you guys may want :)
Without SmoothFaceNormals
Flavor 1 - Base game compatible
Flavor 2 - Male neck fix
Flavor 3 - Male neck fix + Neck width smaller + Longer necks
With SmoothFaceNormals (Slider set to a specific number for all headshapes, won't be too high)
Flavor 4 - smoothfacenormals
Flavor 5 - smoothfacenormals + Male neck fix
Flavor 6 - smoothfacenormals + Male neck fix + Neck width smaller + Longer necks
What do you mean by longer necks though ? This is what I mean :
How do the headshapes look so far ?
Well, since I'm close to completing flavor 1, since it's the base of every other flavor and needed so I can work on the others. I've choosen my sims Owen and Shana to showcase them on both genders and the young adult life stage.
V.2 - Flavor 1 - Base game compatible
I'm so close to finishing the headshapes I just need to make some faces rounders and some more different from eachother and I should be done with the flavor 1 (For reference this is like my 10th WIP.... )
Question - 1 " Why are the presets not in order (ex. Oval 1 then Oval 2) " - Answer : That's because I'm unable to figure it out :(
EA Default headshapes
In addition
So, they won't immediatly come with the thumbnails once they're out because apparently there's 2 thounsand image files ??? 😀........... I ... BYE. I'm not even sure I wanna do them anymore lol.
250 notes
·
View notes
Text
Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy July 11th Update, Wolfmania, Our Biggest Update Yet!

youtube
This update was delayed by about one week, but I think everyone will find that this was well worth it, as this has been our most significant update ever to the rulebook and general content of Eureka. Where do I even begin?
Maybe I’ll start with the best part. For a limited time, this update is FREE! You can grab a PDF from the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club Discord server from now (July 11th 2024) until the next book club round starts! (Which will probably be about a month.)
Here’s just a few of the highlights for this update, you’ll find the full changelog below.
Major cleanup and copy-editing is underway again finally, and we managed to eliminate 42 pages of unnecessary blank space and extraneous text, as well as rewording and reorganizing many rules sections to make them clearer and easier to read. You now only have to read 20 pages before the first mention of how to roll dice, rather than 70.
Ten new character traits.
A PC’s Wealth stat now has a much greater effect on them in more areas of gameplay.
A ton of new art assets.
A bunch of massive improvements to combat that make it flow smoother with fewer interruptions, some of these improvements will be discussed in detail in their own post.
Repurposed Chapter 7 into being a chapter dedicated to GMing and homebrew.
Huge cleanups to the supernatural chapter.
Some changes to monsters overall to make them more modular and less restrictive in character creation.
Two new playable “supernatural” “creatures.”
Two new mage traits as well. (Which also double as two new spells for the witch)
The weaknesses of a vampire are now a bit more subjective and modular. For instance, in character creation you can trade off a greater sensitivity to garlic for a more potent sense of smell, or a lesser sensitivity to garlic for a weaker sense of smell. Vampires are now also explicitly thematically tied to religion, religious trauma, and religious horror.
Wolfmania! The wolfman monster now has different transformation options during character creation. You now choose your wolfman PC’s partial wolf transformation and full wolf transformation, with four options for each. There are some major narrative trade-offs for different combinations but I’ll let you figure that out for yourself.
Then, there is "The Eye of Neptune." "The Eye of Neptune" is a Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy adventure module that has languished in an unfinished state for like six months, but we finally got it like 99% complete. The only thing missing are the maps and the artwork, which it is fully playable without.
Man has built a city of steel and black blood atop the endless abyss. It is a beating heart bound together with labyrinthian pipe veins. Hundreds of miles away from civilization, it stands in the midst of the Gulf of Mexico with naught but empty horizons around it. Within is a vast structure of winding halls, grinding machinery, and thousands upon thousands of small parts working to achieve a grand design. It is the Offshore Oil Rig Neptune, and it was once run by 200 workers. Now, in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, it has fallen to more or less a dozen. These last vestiges of life in the rig spread themselves thin and work their hands to the bone to keep the massive beast running. In the midst of this overwhelming isolation, two members of the already shorthanded crew are unaccounted for, Seth Barlowe and Lukas Ward. The installation manager, Noah, has convened a meeting to try to find out what happened to him. With the crew already severely shorthanded and tensions running high, a mysterious disappearance is the last thing anyone needs.
You can get a copy of The Eye of Neptune, as well as another adventure module, several stories, and continuous monthly rulebook updates from our Patreon for only $5/month!
Now here's the full changelog! I'm mercifully putting it under a Read More because it's our longest one yet!
CHANGE LOG
Copy-editing Progress: Thoroughly copy-edited up to p. 47.
CHAPTER 1
Better clarified how Heat increases.
Minor edit to Role of the Narrator.
Changed the name of Chapter 1 to “Core Gameplay Rules”
Minor tweak/clarification to what happens with a 7-9 on a Heat roll.
Instead of +1 Heat when the villain is in league with the police, Heat now simply does not decrease for the duration of the adventure.
Heat rolls are now made whenever an investigator’s Heat increases by 3 or more within a single scene, rather than being made on multiples of 3 Heat.
Added another entry to the list of how Heat can increase
How much Heat an investigator starts the adventure with is now based on their Wealth stat.
Minor sentence reworks
Added a more detailed story of A.N.I.M. and Eureka’s history to the foreword
Moved Verisimilitude section out of Foreword down below Inspirations
Moved “Deadly Combat, Permanent Consequences” to Chapter 3 above Grievous Wounds
Moved the “Monsters” section of the foreword to Chapter 8
Better clarified starting Heat
Lots of copy-editing and minor twinning, additions, and tweaks
Fixed the Quick Term definition for Truth being inaccurate.
Moved a bunch of sections from Chapter 1 to Chapter 7, including Heat
CHAPTER 2
Fixed the Believer Snoop accidentally being put with the Woo-Woo trait
Tweaked the None of My Business Trait
Changed Traits section to “Mundane Trait List”
Changed the amount of Penetrative HP for Not Finished Yet trait to 13 instead of 10
Added holster to item list.
Found out bump stocks are no-longer illegal
Added “It’s for a Book” trait
Added “Moneybags” trait
Added “The Ascot” trait
Added “Gang Way!” trait
Added “Dangerprone Damsel” trait
Added “Master of Disguise” Trait.
Added “Ninja” Trait
Added “Quick Draw” trait
Edited the Food Budget item to be more clear
Changed it so that guns no-longer come with bullets, these must be bought separately
Changed having +2 Wealth to “middle class” and +3 Wealth to “upper middle class,” to better describe how the Wealth skill actually influences the game
The formula for calculating WP is now 3D6+6+[Wealthx2]
Increased the WP price for certain items to reflect the above change
Added “Frugal” trait
Added “Kleptomaniac” trait
Added art of example investigator Nick Morgan
Moved a bunch of sections from Chapter 2 to Chapter 7
Moved some stuff about investigators losing items to Chapter 7
Moved some stuff about homebrewing traits into Chapter 7
Changed the name of Chapter 2 to “How to Make an Investigator” because now all the NPC stuff is moved to Chapter 7
Better clarified skills
Changed the heading “Additional Traits” to “Choosing More Than Three Traits”
CHAPTER 3
Added clarification that sometimes it does matter whether a weapon is a blunt weapon, a piercing weapon, or a cutting weapon, and we trust players to be able to intuit what types of weapons are what.
Made animal teeth and animal claws separate entries on the weapon list
Better clarified when Speed needs to be calculated and when it doesn't
Explained what a node map is
Removed the rules for doing turn order based on Reflexes rolls, and finally made it so that Epicenter Initiative works with firearms combat.
Added rules for equipping weapons during combat
You now add Acceleration bonus to Athletics rolls for characters moving long distances in theater of the mind combat. Need to go around and remove the special speeds for various supernatural characters.
Added a section that explains why so many pages is dedicated to combat despite this game being an investigation game primarily
Added art of some small knives
Put “Deadly Combat, Permanent Consequences” to this chapter instead of the Foreword
CHAPTER 4
Added some art to the gun information list
Made Fully Automatic Fire have a hard limit of 12 bullets per attack.
Added Quick Cycling rule, allowing characters with a +2 or more in Firearms to fire Two-round Bursts with Single-Action and Repeating firearms.
CHAPTER 5
Added rule for ride-by attacks to basic melee attack
Better clarified Escape
Attempts to disarm a character now have bonuses or penalties based on the difference between the Athletics skill of the two characters involved, similar to how Escape attempts work.
CHAPTER 6
Clarified that Acceleration is not affected by Composure
Tiny tweak to how chases are described
Better clarified when Speed needs to be calculated and when it doesn't
CHAPTER 7
Added “How We Play Eureka” section explaining which optional rules we personally do and don't prefer
Changed the name of Chapter 7 to “Advanced Narration and Homebrewing”
Added a ton of stuff from other chapters to Chapter 7 to make it a general chapter for Narrators as well as help with game/module design and homebrewing. It is currently a little bit of a mess but is at least serviceable until we get to the point where we can fully copy-edit it.
CHAPTER 8
Minor vampire tweaks
Made it so that that the vampire sensitivity to certain scents is more codified and now causes composure rolls, and now works more like their compulsion to count things in that the placement of the weakness on their tiers of fear determines how much of a bonus they have to Senses checks involving smell and taste.
Adjusted Even Monsters are Afraid of Something section to reflect the above changes
Added more mechanics for how NPC vampires interact mechanically with weaknesses.
Better clarified the full moon roll for wolfmen. It is now just 1D12+1.
Better codified superhuman strength as a rule.
Gave the math for handling consistent HP across alternate supernatural forms its own section.
Completely redid the wolfman wolf forms. Now during character creation players can choose one of four options for each of the wolfman’s wolf forms, each with their own advantages and disadvantages. Up to 16 possible combinations! Wolfmania!
Improved the werewolf trait to fit with the updates to wolfman
Adjusted wolf manifestation of vampire to fit with new wolfman rules.
Better clarified vampire claws
Added Supernatural Bonuses and Investigation Rolls section
Tweaked wolfman involuntary transformation so that the form they rampage in is still random even if they are already in a wolf form when the rampage starts
Changed stats of vampire’s bat manifestation
Better clarified vampire sunlight and silver weakness mechanics
Totally revamped vampire’s monstrous beast manifestation
Redid the Superhuman Speed mage trait, made it a lot better
Improved the Stealth bonus of the Invisibility mage trait
Improved Stealth bonuses of thing from beyond.
Added a “Purpose” mechanic to living dolls, which is what the doll in question was built to do. When they act towards this purpose, they get +1 to rolls, and when they fail or otherwise ignore their purpose, they may lose Composure.
Updated Even Monsters are Afraid of Something section to reflect the above
Made it so wolfmen lose 2 Composure from skipping a meal instead of 1.
Clarified that the thing from beyond does not need to stay in human shape the entire time they are digesting a human victim.
Clarified the possibility of escaping from a monstrous supernatural beast’s stomach for both the giant wolfman forms and the monstrous vampire manifestation.
Clarified Telekinesis trait
Added “Manifest Weaponry” Mage Trait
Added “Incredible Strength” Mage Trait
Added ability for an investigator to be a talking dog.
Changed “wannabe monster hunter” to just “monster hunter” and added a new sidebar
Rewriting large chunks of the first half of chapter 8, redefining each type of supernatural investigator, and adding a fourth category of investigator. Work in progress
Monster investigators now only require 18 investigation points instead of 21.
Removed “Is this a monster or a mage” section. This is no-longer needed now that these categories are more clearly defined.
Removed blood sacrifice from the witch’s true nature and just committed to making it be about cannibalism and about using magic–any of their magic–for petty and/or entirely selfish reasons.
Gave witches a proper weakness
Changed the name of the witch to Fairytale Witch
Moved Alternative Witch into the misc. category
Removed large chunks of chapter 8 that were either no-longer needed or had become so outdated as to be contradictory to other rules
Vampires now gain 1 additional point of Composure for every 5 Morale or Composure damage they do to their victim during an attack, to better codify how they feed on human suffering as much as the literal blood they drink.
Added the “Monsters” section of the Foreword to this chapter instead
Changed the name of the Thing From Beyond’s “Shapeshifter” trait to “Imposter Syndrome”
Moved some stuff about homebrewing traits into Chapter 7
Elegantly designed and thoroughly playtested, Eureka represents the culmination of three years of near-daily work from our team, as well as a lot of our own money. If you’re just now reading this and learning about Eureka for the first time, you missed the crowdfunding window unfortunately, but our Kickstarter page is still the best place to learn more about what Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually is, as that is where we have all the fancy art assets, the animated trailer, links to video reviews by podcasts and youtubers, and where we post regular updates on the status of our progress finishing the game and getting it ready for final release.
Beta Copies through the Patreon
If you want more than just status updates, going forward you can download regularly updated playable beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and it’s adventure modules by subscribing to our Patreon at the $5 tier or higher. Subscribing to our patreon also grants you access to our patreon discord server where you can talk to us directly and offer valuable feedback on our progress and projects.
The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club
If you would like to meet the A.N.I.M. team and even have a chance to play Eureka with us, you can join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club discord server. It’s also just a great place to talk and discuss TTRPGs, so there is no schedule obligation, but the main purpose of it is to nominate, vote on, then read, discuss, and play different indie TTRPGs. We put playgroups together based on scheduling compatibility, so it’s all extremely flexible. This is a free discord server, separate from our patreon exclusive one. https://discord.gg/7jdP8FBPes
Other Stuff
We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.
We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.
#ttrpgs#ttrpg#indie ttrpg#ttrpg community#ttrpg tumblr#ttrpg character#tabletop#ttrpg art#dnd5e#roleplaying#cosmic horror#scooby doo#monsters#artists on tumblr#queer art#queer artist#noir#neo noir#horror#rpg#call of cthulhu#eureka#eureka: investigative urban fantasy#Youtube
183 notes
·
View notes
Text
Become Your Best Version Before 2025 - Day 23
Personal Style & Self-Presentation
Hi Goddesses! Let's talk about something that can be both super fun and slightly overwhelming, developing your personal style. This isn't about following trends or completely overhauling your wardrobe. It's about discovering and expressing who you are through how you present yourself to the world.
You know that feeling when you put on an outfit and just feel like you? That's what we're aiming for, not just occasionally, but every day. Whether you're a minimalist who loves basics, a maximalist who lives for patterns, or somewhere in between, your style should make you feel confident and comfortable in your own skin.
Let's break this down into areas where your personal style shines through:
Your Physical Space: Notice how some people's homes or workspaces instantly tell you something about them? That's personal style in action. Start by choosing one small area, maybe your desk or bedside table, and arrange it in a way that feels uniquely you. Maybe you love minimalism, or perhaps you're drawn to cozy chaos. There's no wrong answer!
Communication Style: Some people tell detailed stories, others are direct and brief. Some use lots of gestures, others are more reserved. Your communication style is part of your personal brand. Pay attention to when you feel most natural in conversations, that's often your authentic style peeking through.
Digital Presence: Whether it's your social media, emails, or work presentations, your digital presence is an extension of your personal style. Does your online presence feel aligned with who you are?
Body Language: Your posture, gestures, and how you move through space all contribute to your personal style. Try this: When you're feeling great, notice your natural body language. That's your authentic style in motion!
Alright, now for the fun part you’ve been waiting for: bringing your inner self to life through the way you dress! Your style should feel like an extension of you, not a costume you put on. When you choose clothes that reflect how you truly feel and who you are inside, that’s when everything aligns. Your confidence, your energy, and your authenticity will shine through, and you’ll feel more like yourself than ever before.
First steps to finding your style:
Notice what catches your eye
Pay attention to compliments you receive
Think about your lifestyle needs
Consider your comfort level
Remember your favorite outfits
Finding Inspiration to Create your style vision:
Make Pinterest boards by category
Save Instagram posts that inspire you
Notice patterns in what you save
Look at your favorite influencers' style
Take photos of outfits you love wearing
Understanding Your Style. Ask yourself:
What makes you feel confident?
Which colors brighten your mood?
What fabrics feel good on your skin?
What's practical for your daily life?
What represents your personality?
Building Your Wardrobe:
Choose a core color palette
Invest in quality basics
Find your perfect fit
Know your power pieces
Identify gaps to fill
Smart Shopping Tips:
Create a wishlist
Research before buying
Check fabric quality
Consider cost per wear
Sleep on big purchases
Keep your style accessible:
Group by category
Color coordinate
Make everything visible
Keep a donate box ready
Maintain seasonal rotations
Mix and Match. Creating endless outfits:
Learn your outfit formulas
Use the rule of three
Play with proportions
Experiment with layering
Accessorize thoughtfully
Beyond the Clothes. Complete self-presentation:
Develop a skincare routine
Maintain good grooming
Practice good posture
Keep clothes well-maintained
Pay attention to details
Growing with your style:
Adapt to life changes
Try new combinations
Update key pieces
Experiment safely
Trust your instincts
Quick ways to feel put-together:
Plan outfits ahead
Have go-to combinations ready
Keep shoes clean
Maintain accessories
Press key pieces
Creating Your Signature Look. What makes you, you:
Choose signature accessories
Find your perfect silhouettes
Know your best colors
Identify your style words
Discover your signature scent
Practical Style Tips:
Pack a backup outfit
Keep an emergency kit
Master quick fixes
Know your best angles
Plan for important days
Your Challenge for today:
Create a style mood board
Try a new combination from your closet
Remove three items you never wear
Take photos of your favorite outfits
Write down your style words
Remember these key principles:
Your style can evolve as you do
Authenticity trumps trends every time
Comfort and confidence are non-negotiable
Small tweaks can make big differences
Your style should support your goals and lifestyle
See you tomorrow for Day 24! Don't forget, the best style is the one that makes you feel like your most authentic self.
♡ ☆:.。 Keep glowing, babes! ♡ ☆:.。 With love, Goddess Inner Glow.
#personal style#be confident#be your best self#be your true self#becoming that girl#becoming the best version of yourself#confidence#growth mindset#it girl#self confidence#self improvement#it girl energy#pinterest girl#self development#self love#self care#self acceptance#glow up tips#glow up era#that girl#becoming her#self concept#lifestyle#dream life#it girl aesthetic#girl blogger#become that girl#girlblogging#girl things#girl blog aesthetic
125 notes
·
View notes
Text
okay, let's talk about hyrde!
hello all! so, hyrde! i've been working on it in private for a bit now, so i figure it's high time i actually introduce it!
Come forth and a hearty welcome, outcasts! Wanderers, heretics, disdained souls – nought loved by Aestelwic or it’s inhabitants, but hate does us no good. Within the walls of Aestelwic, peace comes as naturally as the air, lo, that kind breath! The outside, however, is home only to savages; monsters, beasts, and truths none are quite ready to face in all their bloodied beauty.
the basics
hyrde is a story about a small world expanded by its own history, its secrets becoming its undoing. the village of aestelwic was always made to be small, quiet and contained; tight-knit and iron-ruled. however, across the town, seeds of doubt are breaking soil. you can call hyrde a speculative horror; this is a simple historical world with traces of magic, and folk + body + psychological horror.
an important theme of this story is about the children of a society. when you have a society, you must raise the next generation of that society, or it won't continue. hyrde's children are raised thusly; obedient and kind-hearted. they don't question the world that raised them, for it's the only world they know.
but when there is a cycle of pain, secrets, and suffering, and the next generation is raised to follow that without question, the society will never change for the better. that idea is central to hyrde.
hyrde is separated into many stories about the youth of aestelwic whose paths intertwine when such a thing is called for. the amyrran saga, the wræcca saga, the fyr saga, the sarig saga, the dyre saga, the casere saga, the offrian saga, and the hælan saga. these parts are all interconnected within the whole story of hyrde.
the music
here is a playlist dedicated to hyrde if you want a musical feel for the story:
i am also considering making some of my own tracks relevant to certain characters or locations as well, will update when that occurs!
the progress
as for how much i've got done, a fairly good bit! hyrde is sitting strong with almost 15,000 words, but the massively purple prose does tend to make that number raise faster. the amyrran saga has the most done, about 4 chapters, and the debuts for the rest are being written!
i think that's all i have to say about hyrde! i'm very passionate about this one and really proud of how far it's gone already! with that, i bid you goodbye!
"folyn kadel ruathir faudaig taithaig kainbir."
('i leave to you uncountable fortune and excellent travelling.' => aestelwic's language)
taglist bc its been way too long since i updated with actual writing stuff:
@an-indecisive-nerd, @autism-purgatory, @cherrychiplip, @arality, @corinneglass,
@drchenquill, @gioiaalbanoart, @glassfrogforest, @hetaeraofhephestus, @honeybewrites,
@illarian-rambling, @inseasofgreen, @introchasingstars, @justsomeunmemorablewords, @kind-lion,
@leahnardo-da-veggie, @lesbianmessiah, @melpomene-grey, @millipede333, @moltenwrites,
@mysticstarlightduck, @noxxytocin, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @ominous-faechild, @paeliae-occasionally,
@pheonix358, @pluppsauthor, @rumeysawrites, @ri-toast167, @storyteller-kara,
@tc-doherty, @thecomfywriter, @thecrazyalchemist, @the-golden-comet, @thesaddersalad,
@theink-stainedfolk, @verdant-mainframe, @world-of-iridensia, @wyked-ao3
bonus snippet!
Painted stones marked the place where the lies died. Their beautiful crime was etched into the earth, plainly written with the steel tongue of a shovel. An axe lay next to it, bathed in that most terrible thing. What a terrible bloody moon above them! From whence it came? It was not of the earth below, and it was not at home in the sky above. There was no happy place for a moon like that, for it was merely a stone, void of purpose. Vapid and nothing. It would leave such a perilous mark on those children, so young and impressionable. Their impressions lay in what was beneath them, crawling at their feet.
#writeblr#writing#writers on tumblr#writing community#creative writing#writers#writerscommunity#indie writers#queer writers#writer#writers and poets#writer community#writblr#writerblr#writer stuff#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA FINALLY I ACTUALLY MADE SOMETHING HAPPEN LOL#letters speaks#not a story#wip intro#Spotify
52 notes
·
View notes
Text
Touch Me, Please pt. 1



Summary: How Part 3 Polnareff likes to be touched
Content: Polnareff x GN!Reader, FLUFFFFFFFFFFF, jjba part 3, my thoughts on Polnareff's physical touch preferences
Word Count: HC: 910+, Drabbles: 370+ & 510+, Total: 1.8K
A/N: soo...have I mentioned I'm head over heels for this man? No. Okay. I love him. Some of this came from a convo I had with the amazing @cinnbar-bun who was also the lovely soul who introduced me to this show and my newest husband. Let's all give her a round of applause because I absolutely love this show 👏👏👏 First time writing for Polnareff so I did my best and I hope you enjoy! 🩷 (Updated style to match more recent fics May. 14th, 2025. No words have been changed)
↞ to Jjba Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠
TOUCH THIS MAN!
PLEASE
He needs it
He needs touch like he needs the air to breathe
He’ll turn into literal puddy in your hand if you do
Brush your fingers over his when handing him food
Pat his cheek, arm, shoulder, back
Brush your shoulder against his as you walk side by side
HOLD HIS HAND
PLEASE HOLD HIS HAND
I’m not asking I’m telling you to hold his hand or else this man will become the saddest puddle you’ve ever seen
And all of this is just your average day being friends with Polnareff
Once you two become an item he becomes like a baby koala he’s so clingy
He always needs a hand on you
Some sort of skin-on-skin
He still doesn’t fully believe you want to be his partner let alone let him touch you
So whether it be his hand holding your own or his thigh pressed against yours as you two eat he needs to touch you
Would 100% be the type of partner to hug you from behind while waiting in any sort of line
Would 100% want to follow you into the bathroom just so that he could keep holding your hand (and has definitely done so in the past)
Is honestly so terrified when you two have to go your separate ways for such things as going to the bathroom
Not only because he’s had less than pleasant experiences with those spaces thanks to enemy Stand Users
But because he is so utterly terrified that if he lets you go, you’ll disappear
He’s dealt with enough heartbreak to last him two lifetimes so the thought of losing you is utter hell
He just needs to feel you to reassure himself you are still with him
Still with him and still breathing
Will press his ear over your heart sometimes to listen to your heartbeat
You struggled to unlock the hotel room door thanks to the multitude of food bags cradled in your arms. Somehow you had managed to pull the room key from your back pocket but now your grapple with unlocking the door and turning the handle without dropping the food was threatening your will. The key slid into the lock, pulling a bright laughing cheer from your lips at finally starting to win the battle set before. You grabbed for the handle of the door just as it turned, the door yanking open in a rush of air. “Oh--” You said, taking a small step as you took back at the tall body that now stood in the entrance. Polnareff’s familiar face had your body easing and smile tugging bright once more at your lips. “Good morn--” You never got to finish your sentences before Polnareff’s strong arms were wrapping around your body, crushing you and the food against his chest. “I woke up and you weren’t there and the others were gone as well and--and I--” Polnareff panicked into your neck, nuzzling his face against your skin as a shuddering breath shook his body. His hold tightened further as if to keep you glued to him. The sound of a plastic container crunching filled your ears, letting you know the food you had fought to keep from falling was getting crushed within his embrace. You’re heart twisted in your chest at his utterly panicked state, the food’s destruction far from your mind as you all but dropped the bags. Your hands and arms were instantly wrapped around his neck, fingers brushing soothing circles into his skin. “Mon amour, I-I didn’t know where you were.” He said in a voice smaller than that of a whisper. “I thought I would be back before you woke up. I told the others to be here if you did but--forgive me. I should have taken you with me.” You whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “I--Love, what do you need?” You asked, wanting the panic to leave him and for that goofy smile to return to his lips. “Just…touch me…please.” It was a request you were more than happy to fulfill, pulling him ever closer into your hold.
If you ever need space, Polnareff is more than happy to give it to you
But that sad puddle he became when you went a whole minute without touching him while just being friends becomes an oh-so-sad ocean
The rest of the Crusaders are going to be teasing the hell out of the guy for being such a gloomy, near-sobbing mess
And speaking of the other Crusaders
They cannot stand how touchy you two are
The phrase “get a room”, among other things, is almost always spilling from their lips
Oh boy and talking about lips
KISS THIS MAN
KISS HIM, PLEASE, I BEG THIS OF YOU
Give him soft kisses
Kiss him on his blushing cheeks, forehead, nose, ears, shoulders
Pepper this man in kisses
And he is kissing you right back
Taking your hands in his and pressing kisses to your knuckles
He’s kissing the inside of your wrist as you sit on the train or at dinner
Kissing the top of your head as you walk
Just kisses everywhere, all the time
He likes to talk to you while his lips are touching your skin
Likes it even more if he can whisper sweet nothings in French against your own lips
You happily hummed as you ate, the soft, classical music floating through the bustling restaurant not the tune you had chosen to muse as spectacular spices and flavors brust over your tongue. A warm thumb brushed at the side of your mouth, clearing a bit of sauce from your skin. Your face began to feel warm at the touch, knowing exactly whose thumb had swiped over your skin. You turned, finding Polnareff’s gray eyes already watching you. Eyes so full of loving adoration it took your breath away every time you looked into them. “Did you get it all?” Your voice sounding near breathless as you took in his handsome, which a bright smile adorned. Polnareff hummed in mock thought, taking your chin between his fingers. He turned your face this way and that, searching for a mess that you knew was nowhere to be found. “Ah! There is some just there.” He said, guiding your face ever closer. “Are you going to get it for me?” You asked, lips parting as your face was drawn closer to his. “Of course, mon coeur.” He all but purred, turning that warmth into a burning fire. Your heart raced as he leaned into you, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. He hardly pulled away before you were grabbing hold of his shirt, keeping him close. “I--I think I feel some more. Just here.” You said, voice wobbling as you tapped your other cheek. Polnareff widely grinned, more than eager to place a chaste kiss to your other cheek. “And here.” You breathed, tapping your lips. A chuckle left Polnareff’s chest that grew muffled against your lips. He kissed you sweetly. So sweet it had your heart melting and your stomach fluttering around like it had grown wings like some butterfly. “Good grief.” The gruff voice of Jotaro grumbled from across the table where he sat. “Mr. Joestar,” Kakyoin huffed, his typically smooth voice laced in utter disgust at you and Polnareff’s actions. “Please make them stop.” “Me? Stop them?” The oldest Joestar all but shouted from where he sat at your side. Kakyoin must have nodded because Joseph gave a huffing grumble of his own. “Alright, you two. Knock it off. This place is nice--and in public.” He tried, to no avail. You both ignored the group, lips pulling away only so you could pepper Polnareff’s face in kisses he was more than happy to return. Whispered Mon amours, mon coeurs, among other loving titles pressed into your skin making it tingle in delight. “Eh--see. They won’t listen to me.” Joseph huffed. “I do not believe there is a power on this earth or in the heavens above that is strong enough to keep them apart.” The calm voice was Advol spoke from Polnareff’s side, a light chuckle in his voice. A giggle escaped your lips at his words, nuzzling your nose against Polnareff’s. They were words you couldn’t help but full-heartedly believe as Polnareff cupped your jaw in his strong hand, kissing your lips like it was the last time he would ever taste them again.
If he’s driving the group, you better believe you're sitting shotgun so he can place a hand on your thigh, giving it gentle squeezes to remind you he’s always thinking about you
If Joseph is insistent about sitting in the front, Polnareff either refuses to drive outright or is reaching into the back to hold your hand much to Jotaro and Kakyoin’s displeasure
Will reach over one of the others to touch you
Has and will lead to a shouting match between Polnareff and the others
But he refuses to be so close to you yet so so far
He’ll even go as far as to send Silver Chariot to sit with you and hold your hand if he can’t be there with you
Though this has led to one too many Star Platinum beatdowns
CUDDLE THE MAN
Oh my goodness PLEASE cuddle him
He’s so warm and his arms are so safe
Only one bed?
No trouble whatsoever!
Polnareff wasn’t going to sleep without you anyway
Only a few rooms left?
Polnareff and you have been deemed your own room because the others will not deal with your touchiness while trying to sleep mere inches away
Polnareff’s cuddle could save a life
It’s a fact
His fingers are rubbing circles into your back or arm
His face buried in the crook of your neck so he could take in your scent and dream of you while he sleeps
Whether it be a hug from the front or back, he has his arms around you while you sleep
His legs intertwining between yours, molding himself against you
He literally worships the ground you walk on so why wouldn’t he just want to become another extension of your being?
The only thing he won’t always want touched is his hair
He spent nearly an hour that morning in the dimly lit hotel bathroom getting it just right
And he loves you
GOD he loves you
He loves you so much it hurts
But his hair is off-limits until you both are settling in for the night
Then he is more than happy to let you run your fingers through his hair
He also won’t be completely opposed to you helping him style his hair in the morning, but you’ll need to go through several days of “training” before you can even touch one of his combs
Next ->
More Like This: Touch Me and I'll Break Your Hand {Jotaro x gn!reader} ⋆ Touch Me...If You Want, Of Course {Kakyoin x gn!reader}
#polnareff x reader#polnareff x you#polnareff x y/n#polnareff x gender neutral reader#polnareff x gn!reader#jean pierre polnareff#polnareff#jean pierre polnareff x you#jean pierre polnareff x reader#jean pierre polnareff x y/n#polnareff fic#polnareff headcanon#jean pierre polnareff fic#stardust crusaders#stardust crusaders fic#part 3 jjba#jojos bizarre adventure#jjba#jjba fic#jjba headcanons#jojos bizarre adventure fic#polnareff drabble#dividers by thecutestgrotto#dividers by cottoncandybtchfck
251 notes
·
View notes