#I take time to do what I want rather than something that might be more practical AND THAT'S FINE

[puck-luck]

Hi, Andy! Could I please get a cafe latte with cold foam for Quinn Hughes where he’s interested in trying something new, like a position or kink, I don’t have anything specific in mind but he’s very sweet about it. He doesn’t pressure at all but maybe it’s something he’s hinted to before.

hi! i chose "pussy worship" for this blurb because i think it's so quinn. this is very "kink negotiation" rather than tons of sex but i think that's just as sweet as sex can be :)

“Baby, are you going to stay down there all day?” you ask, running your fingers through Quinn’s hair.

He’s between shifts, laying with his head on your stomach instead of between your legs like before. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing steadily, rubbing his thumb over the inside of your thigh.

“I might,” he seems to wonder aloud. “I don’t know.” He blinks his eyes open and looks up at you, chin digging into your flesh. His facial hair rubs against your stomach, scratching you lightly. “Is that okay?”

His eyes are clear and sweet, somewhere between green and blue and gray in this light. It’s still early in the day, so he has plenty of time to stay where he is if he wants to.

“I knew you liked my pussy, but I didn’t know you liked it so much that you could stay there all day,” you jest with a smile on your face. Quinn has always been quite the munch, but there’s something in the air today that is almost palpable. He wants more than he’s letting on. 

He lays his head down again, this time on your thigh. “I don’t know,” Quinn mumbles. His fingers trail up your thigh and reach your folds, already sensitive from the previous head he gave you. His index finger parts them gently and he touches for only a second before pulling away. “Just appreciating you, is all.”

That’s his second ‘I don’t know’ in two replies. You touch his cheekbone, then his nose. “Are you still thinking about what you told me the other day?” you ask.

Quinn’s gaze flickers to you, then back down. “A little bit.” He seems almost shameful, although there’s no reason to be. 

“You can stay down there all day if you want,” you offer. “I think it’s sweet how you want to love on me, Q.”

He sighs. It's a big, heaving sound that deflates his whole body. “I don't think I explained it well,” Quinn says. “It’s not just wanting to eat you out because I love you. It’s deeper than that.” He continues toying with your pussy, feeling your juices start to coat his fingertips. He’ll spread your folds and let them fall back together, stroke his thumb over your clit and then remove his hand entirely. When he speaks again, he’s much more reverent. “I want to worship you.”

You quirk an eyebrow, waiting for Quinn to continue.

He doesn’t make you wait long. “It’s not about… making you come. It’s not about tasting you. I need to…” he trails off, looking up at you through his eyelashes.

Your heart flutters. He’s so beautiful, his face shining with earnestness. 

A kiss lands on your clit, with Quinn shifting so that your thighs bracket him. “I just need this,” Quinn finishes. He traces your folds with the tip of his tongue and you start to see what he’s saying– he’s mapping your pussy, taking in every single nook and cranny and ridge and valley just because it feels right. It calms him, it centers him. It vitalizes him.

It’s not about pleasure, but that doesn’t mean Quinn doesn’t make you come. It’s just another movement, reaction, and taste for him to categorize. He stays between your legs for hours– genuine hours– and you have no idea how he manages to do this so long. It might clear his mind and wipe the slate clean and satisfy him on a level that supercedes sexual pleasure. You don’t know, but the serene bliss on Quinn’s face is enough for you.

[leviruthan]

you cook something for them that is hardly edible

characters : leona, riddle, malleus, idia, lilia, ace, deuce, vil, kalim, azul, jamil

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

leona would scoff when you present it to him. "what's this garbage?" he probably wasn't intentionally being that mean, but that's just his default

when you explain you made it for him, he looks slightly surprised

he eyes it suspiciously before reluctantly taking a bite

his reaction would be a subtle grimace and a slight twitch of his nose

"tch. you call this food, herbivore?" he says although there's not any real venom in his tone

would probably push the plate away "don't bother next time. just... don't"

however, if you looked genuinely upset by his reaction, he might grumble something like "alright, alright. it's... edible. barely" but he wouldn't touch much more

ruggie would try to sneak a taste and then make a face, silently agreeing with his dorm leader

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

riddle would raise a brow at the thing you're calling food "what is this, [name]?" he asks, his tone more curious than accusatory at first

upon learning you made it for him, a flicker of surprise comes across his face, quickly masked by his usual composed demeanor

he examines the food with a critical eye. "the presentation... could use improvement"

he takes a small, precise bite

his expression doesn't change much initially, but you would notice a slight tightening around his lips

"the flavor profile is... unconventional" he'd state matter-of-factly

being raised with strict rules, he'd likely feel obligated to eat at least a little bit more

he would probably politely suggest "perhaps we could review some basic culinary rules together sometime?" which is his way of saying it wasn't good without being outright mean

MALLEUS DRACONIA

malleus would be intrigued by your offering, he doesn't often receive handmade things from others

he finds it rather endearing that you'd make something for him

he looks at it with genuine curiosity "oh? what do have we here, child of man?"

from the look of the food, he gets some flashbacks with lilia in it but shakes them off because he shouldn't completely judge it based on looks, right

you tell him you decided to cook for him because you loveee cooking

"how thoughtful of you" he'd be genuinely happy tbh

he'd take a bite, observing your reaction more than focusing on the taste itself

his expression would remain neutral for a moment, then he would tilt his head slightly "it possesses a... bold flavor"

he's not one to be overly critical of a genuine effort. he would even find a strange sort of amusement in it

"thank you for the gesture. it is... memorable" he'd probably finish a polite amount, more out of respect than enjoyment

LILIA VANROGUE

he loves it! he will also cook something for you <3 be ready

IDIA SHROUD

he's probably too engrossed in whatever he's doing to notice you're even in the kitchen until you awkwardly present him with... whatever it is

his first reaction would be visual. a slight widening of his glowing blue hair flames

"uh... what... is this, [name]?" he asks tilting his head slightly, not wanting to be rude but genuinely confused

if you explain you made it for him, he'd glitch a little "f-for me? you... you didn't have to do that.

he takes a very, very small bite, eyes darting around nervously.

"it's... uh... very... unique" he says carefully, trying to find a positive adjective

he definitely wouldn't want to hurt your feelings, so he'd try to eat a little more while staring intently at his tablet as a distraction

ACE TRAPPOLA

when you finally present it to him, he'd take a tentative bite, his face scrunching up slightly

he tries not to be too mean about it, maybe saying something like "well, uh, the effort's there, i guess"

secretly he might find it a little endearing that you tried, even if it was a culinary disaster

he wouldn't admit that out loud, though

DEUCE SPADE

deuce would be super awkward. he'd take a bite, chew slowly, and then say something like "this is... very unique, [name]. i can tell you put a lot of hard work into it"

ah yes indeed you put a lot of work into it

his brows would be slightly furrowed like he's trying to decipher the flavor

he'd try to eat as much as he could without complaining, because he wouldn't want to hurt your feelings

would gulp down a lot of water afterwards

he would subtly suggest ordering takeout next time you offer to cook "maybe... maybe we could try sam's sandwiches tonight? just a thought!"

VIL SCHOENHEIT

vil would raise a perfectly sculpted eyebrow the moment he sees the dish

his initial reaction would be based purely on aesthetics. if it looks messy, he's already judging

upon tasting it, his expression becomes subtly pained. he wouldn't make that much of a big scene, but his nose would wrinkle almost imperceptibly

"my dear [name]" he begins, his voice dangerously calm "while i appreciate the gesture, i must be honest. this... creation... lacks finesse. considerably"

he would offer constructive (albeit harsh) criticism, pointing out every flaw in detail

he probably takes one or two polite bites, just to say he tried it, before suggesting perhaps he could prepare something more palatable

KALIM AL ASIM

kalim would beam at you, even if you just presented him food that didn't look very pleasant

"wow, [name]! you made food for me? that's so kind of you!"

he'd take a large bite, his eyes widening slightly "it's… very interesting!"

he takes another bite, trying to figure out the flavors

"it's got a… strong taste! what are all the spices you used? i've never tasted anything quite like it!"

he'd still try to eat it all

maybe even offering some to the others with genuine enthusiasm

he'd just be happy you made something for him

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

he would probably take one polite bite, a barely perceptible wince flickering across his face

then, without saying a single harsh word, he sets down his fork

"my dear" he starts, his tone smooth as always "while i appreciate the gesture immensely, perhaps… perhaps we could explore other culinary options in the future? i'm quite certain the cafeteria has something palatable this evening"

he subtly pushes the plate away, as if it's radiating some unpleasant aura

would make a mental note to ensure you never offer to cook again

JAMIL VIPER

jamil would watch you with a sigh that spoke volumes before even tasting it. he'd take a small portion, his expression unreadable

when he tastes it his lips are pressed into a thin line

he doesn't want to insult your genuine effort but

"while I appreciate the gesture, you should focus on other things. leave the cooking to me" please

[aventurineswife]

Ratio, Sampo, Aventurine and Boothill overhead or find out that reader has feelings for them

Basically reader secretly has a crush on them

Some Truths Refuse to Stay Hidden

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Boothill x Reader, Fluff, Light Angst (Aventurine & Boothill’s parts (?)), Teasing & Banter, Eavesdropping/Overheard Confession, Crush Confession, Mild Suggestiveness (Aventurine’s part), Playful Flirting.

Warnings: Slight Manipulation (Aventurine's & Sampo's part), Mild Language, Gambling References (Aventurine’s part), Implied Drinking (Boothill’s part), Cocky & Overconfident (All of them, honestly).

Taglist: @themiddletenmasibling

Ratio had always prided himself on his sharp intellect, his ability to solve even the most complex of problems with a mere glance. But as he stood just outside the library’s archway, listening to the whispered confession escaping your lips, he found himself at a loss.

“I know he’s arrogant,” you murmured to a friend, a book clutched tightly to your chest, “and he talks like he has all the answers. But… I can’t help it. There’s something about him. The way he sees things, the way he challenges everything… I admire him.”

His name was never spoken, but there was no doubt who you were talking about.

Ratio stepped into the library, his usual composed expression giving away nothing. “It’s a shame,” he said, making you stiffen. “For someone so observant, you fail to recognize the most obvious of truths.”

You turned sharply, eyes wide. “What—”

He stepped closer, voice dropping into something softer, something edged with amusement. “You assume admiration is one-sided?” His piercing gaze met yours. “Perhaps, if you were to look at the variables again, you would see the solution has always been within reach.”

You blinked, heartbeat racing. “Are you saying…?”

Ratio smirked. “I’m saying, if you were to confess again—this time to my face—I might just be inclined to give you the answer you’re hoping for.”

Sampo had an uncanny ability to be exactly where he wasn’t supposed to be.

Which is how he found himself eavesdropping outside a supply room, arms crossed as he listened to you, of all people, admitting something rather interesting to Natasha.

“I don’t know why I like him,” you groaned. “He’s frustrating, sneaky, and probably lying half the time—but somehow, I just… do.”

Sampo’s grin widened. Oh?

He waited a beat before dramatically pushing the door open, wearing the most innocent expression he could muster. “Well, well, well! What’s all this, huh? Talking about little old me behind my back? I’m flattered!”

You spun around, color draining from your face before returning in full force. “How long have you—?”

“Long enough!” He waggled his eyebrows. “Gotta say, sunshine, I had no idea you felt that way.”

Natasha sighed, unimpressed. “Sampo, get out.”

“Ah-ah, not before I get a proper answer!” He leaned closer, voice teasing but eyes searching. “So? You like me, huh? Care to make that official, or should I start wooing you properly?”

You groaned, covering your face. “I take it back.”

“Ah, too late! No refunds, no returns,” he chuckled. “Guess that means you’re stuck with me now.”

Aventurine always knew when people were lying. It was a skill he had honed to perfection, a survival instinct as much as a talent.

But what fascinated him more was when people told the truth without realizing it.

And tonight, as he leaned casually against the grand casino balcony, he had just stumbled upon a rather delightful little secret.

“I know he’s dangerous,” you admitted to someone, your voice lost in the buzz of music and chatter below. “But that’s what makes him so compelling. It’s like every conversation is a game, and I… I can’t help but want to play.”

His lips curled into a knowing smirk. Oh, darling, you’re more than just playing—you’re already all in.

Slipping out of the shadows, he chuckled as you jolted at his sudden presence. “Now, now. What’s this I hear? Someone’s got a little crush?”

You gasped. “You—!?”

Aventurine tilted his head, eyes gleaming with amusement. “You wound me, dearest. How could you not tell me sooner?” He tapped his chin, pretending to consider. “Should I make this interesting? A gamble, perhaps?”

Your breath caught. “What kind of gamble?”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a murmur. “A kiss, if you win.” A pause, then a smirk. “And if I win? Well, I suppose I’ll just have to take that kiss myself.”

Boothill had been called many things—reckless, ruthless, a dead man walking. But blind wasn’t one of them.

Which was why, when he overheard your conversation with an old friend in a dimly lit saloon, he wasn’t exactly surprised.

“You ever tell him?” your friend asked, swirling their drink.

You scoffed. “Tell Boothill? Please. He’d probably laugh in my face.”

At that moment, the infamous cyborg cowboy made his entrance, heavy boots clicking against the floor. “Now, sweetheart,” he drawled, teeth flashing in a shark-like grin, “what makes you think I’d do a thing like that?”

Your eyes widened in horror. “You—!? How long—!?”

Boothill tipped his hat, sliding into the seat beside you. “Long enough to hear somethin’ real interestin’.” He leaned closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Now, tell me true—was that just some whiskey talk, or do you really got a thing for me?”

You glared at your friend, who was conveniently looking the other way. “I hate you.”

Boothill just chuckled. “That ain’t an answer, sugar.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “And if I did?”

He smirked. “Then I reckon you just made my day a whole lot more interesting.”

[16wolke11]

Notice Me - Lando Norris

A/N I just wanted to write something short and fluffy...Maybe one part of this was unsuccesful :D

WORDS: 2578

_____

Working with the Formula 1 team of McLaren wasn't my dream, but somehow, I still ended up working in their team after graduation. Slowly making my way up from simple duties, nothing with much responsibility, until I reached one of the upper levels of the PR team. Starting to work around the drivers, brainstorm for videos and content with the rest of the team and it feels like I am finally settled into the group.

Even though McLaren is paying me generously, I still like to take my bike to the headquarters. Only needing a fifteen-minute ride through some fields is as quick as driving a car. And usually that it is no problem, but right now it is pouring outside. I sigh at the thought of being drenched after seconds and that my clothes are probably going to be muddy after driving over the dirt road. Just when I want to step outside, someone calls my name.

When I turn around, I see Lando approaching. He and Oscar were at the headquarters today to film some stuff, spend time in the simulator and I am sure the bosses even squeezed a meeting into their time schedule. I like Lando, he is always friendly to the team, even though he does express when he isn't really interested in filming videos. But he knows we just do our job and in the end, he and Oscar usually still have fun in the end.

"Let me drive you home, it's on my route home anyways," Lando speaks up, gesturing outside and I look at him confused. My apartment being on his way home isn't exactly true, at least that's what I thought.

"I thought your house is on the other side of the city. Like...the opposite direction." I ask Lando with a hesitating voice, thinking I might have got something wrong in my memory, but he just laughs softly.

"Got me there." He admits, before adding, "Still, I don't want you to cycle through the rain." I bite on the inside of my cheek. This is a nice offer, but I can't take it. There is no way I am going to allow Lando to drive me home, taking a longer route to finally get home as well. He is spending so much time away from home and I don't want to stop him from doing it as soon as possible.

"But I need my bike to get here tomorrow." I quickly say, which is the truth, because currently I don't have a car and even though I could be walking or take the bus, I don't want to get up earlier, just because the bus leaves at such an impractical time. "And I need to shower anyway." I then add with a shrug of my shoulders. There is nothing better than taking a warm shower after being drenched in the rain. Lando looks at me for a moment, testing like he is trying to figure out if I just lied to him, before he shakes his head.

"Get in my car. I am going to pick you up tomorrow." Lando tells me and I can't let him do that.

"Lan..." I try to speak up, but he just cuts me off.

"Not discussing that." I look at him, debating with myself, but decide that I am not in the mood to discuss this with him.

"Fine." I huff and let Lando lead me to his car, which is luckily parked on the covered part of the parking lot. He puts on the heater during the drive, and I sigh to myself, maybe it isn't too bad being driven home instead of cycling through the rain, being miserable.

"Thank you." I mutter to Lando, who just smiles proudly of himself for getting what he wants.

The weeks go by, and the season starts again, but I stay working at the headquarters. Not long enough in the team to be in for a race weekend yet, or more, not on the rotation list yet. McLaren tries to give the team a balance between being away from home and being able to stay with their families and as much as I appreciate it, I still would like to experience a weekend at the track, preferable sooner rather than later. Being occupied by racing again, Lando and Oscar aren't as often at the headquarters as before, but still come by from time to time.

"You are in early." I notice when I step into the room where we film the teammate videos and Lando is already spread out on the couch. Usually, he stumbles into the room last second, looking like he would fall right back asleep if we let him.

"I can be on time." Lando huffs, sitting up, before he stretches his arms and adds, "If I want to."

I laugh at his words and start to prepare the room for filming. Open the windows for some fresh air, get the scripts for the video. All that was followed by Lando's eyes. At one point, I frown and look at him, no longer accepting being stared at.

"Everything okay?" I ask him and Lando flinches like he is deep down in his mind. Then he reaches for his backpack, pulling out a bag from a bakery. I lean my head to the side when Lando holds out the bag to me and I hesitantly grab it.

"I got you these." Lando mutters, eyes now looking everywhere but at me and I open the bag to look inside. There it is, my favourite pastry in all its glory. The cinnamon smell immediately flooded around me and I looked at Lando in awe.

"You got me franzbrötchen?" I ask him, eyes wandering back to the pastry which I love so dearly, but just don't manage to get in England. Craving them from time to time, but not talented enough to bake them myself.

"You said you liked these, so I brought them for you." Lando shrugs his shoulders like it is no big deal, but I know how difficult it is to get these. And yes, I tried so many bakeries that I lost count of them.

"Where did you get those? I am searching for a bakery selling them forever." My voice is excited like a child on its birthday, and I really hope it is not one of those high-end bakeries that are way too expensive. Well, I might even pay the price if that means I get to eat my favourite pastries again from time to time.

"That's my secret." Lando grins mischievously and adds, "But if you are nice to me, I will bring them more often."

There is a soft smile on my lips, and I can't do anything to be happy about this gift. "Thank you, Lan."

Finally, my first race weekend has come and even though it might be stressful, I still can't get the smile off my lips anymore. Right now, I am on my way to get Oscar and Lando for a bit of filming, but stop in my tracks when I hear them talking. Knowing it is not nice to overhear them, but can't stop myself from doing so.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Oscar. It is like she doesn't even notice me." Lando groans and I tilt my head to the side. I have never heard him be so desperate and I wonder who the girl he is talking about is. Ignoring the soft ache inside of me, I keep listening to them talking.

"Maybe you just need to tell her and not only show her." Oscar suggests and I think that's good advice. Sometimes words are better than actions, even though sweet actions are still a great way of showing feelings. It sometimes just needs a little bit more. "And embarrass myself because she doesn't like me, no thanks." Lando huffs and my heart clenches at his tone. Looks like he is really in love with someone.

"Did you ever think about the possibility that she might also be like you, but isn't sure if you are just nice to her." My heart beats quicker, part of being scared of getting seen listening to the boys and part because it gets me thinking. Lando does do some nice things for me, but that could mean nothing. Or?

"I am not letting a baker specifically make someone's favourite snack or drive them home in the rain, so they don't get sick." Lando's voice is so low now that I need a minute to realise what he said. Getting the favourite snack, especially made for someone...that sounds like the time he got me my favourite pastries and the thing with the rain? Slowly, more pieces click into place, and I step around the corner, deciding I've listened to enough of their conversation.

Oscar spots me first, eyes widening just slightly, but Lando has his face buried in his hands and doesn't notice. I take a deep breath, trying to act like nothing happened, but every time I look at Lando, my heart stumbles again.

"Boys, are you ready for the filming?" I speak up, startling Lando to look upwards. His eyes glimmer with frustration, but I feel like I have to act like I don't notice anything is wrong. Like, I just stepped around the corner and didn't hear him confessing his crush on me.

"Sure." Oscar is the one to answer and then we just go on with our day.

It only takes for Sunday to come until Lando snaps. I wanted to give him time, give myself time to think about everything and doubt all of it. Did he really mean me? Of course he did. Do I want to make the first step? Hard pass. Would it be better to give him signs that I like him as well? Totally. Still, I don't dare to say something, not before the race anyway.

Right now, I am chatting with one of Lando's mechanics. I am amazed by what they are doing every weekend. How they manage to tweak the car exactly like the boys like it and it kind of makes my work feel small. Like it isn't important. He tries to explain me stuff, but when I look at him, more than confused, we both just burst into laughter.

Just then, fingers curl around my wrist and with a harsh pull, I am forced to walk. "Lando, what?" I ask him, almost stumbling behind him while he pulls me away under the confused looks of the mechanics. Lando doesn't look at me, just keeps pulling me behind him until he reaches an empty door, slamming the door close behind us.

"What is wrong with you?" I ask him, trying to lower my voice, but the anger and confusion are bubbling inside of me. Rubbing my fingers over my wrist, trying to ease the soft ache, while Lando just paces up and down.

"What is wrong with me?" He asks like I am imagining things, before huffing, "What is wrong with you!?" I blink at him once, twice, not even knowing what I did wrong from his point of view.

"I just chatted with one of your mechanics, you were the one pulling me away like a madman." I explain my side of the situation and finally, Lando stops the pacing, but he doesn't look at me, eyes planted firmly on the ground.

"You were laughing with him." He mutters and I need a second to understand what he just said, before arching an eyebrow.

"And I am no longer allowed to have fun?" I ask him, leading to him ruffling his curls.

"Fuck, you are...I am just." He tries to explain, stumbling over his own words, before he starts pacing up and down again.

"Lan, what is wrong." I ask him, trying to keep my voice soft. When he doesn't react, I am the one grabbing him by the wrist and finally, he stops in his tracks, before whispering.

"I just want you to see me."

"I don't understand." I manage to choke out, not able to connect the dots, but then Lanno starts to ramble.

"And I just try to figure you out." He just starts and before he even really starts, the fog in my head is clearing up.

"You always have different songs stuck in your head and hum them without even noticing." Lando tells me and I blush a little, hating that I forget the people around me when I have a specific song stuck in my head and just hum a mixture of melody and lyrics.

"You make everyone around you feel wanted." He continues and I know Lando likes to observe his surroundings, but didn't know he thinks that about me.

"You scrunch your nose a little when you think about something." There is a soft smile on his lips, and I can't stop myself from offering him one back.

"And your favourite colour is blue! Not a bright one, but one like the ocean on a stormy day." Lando lets his voice trail off and my heart flutters. This isn't something everyone knows about me, but Lando listens, no matter how dumb or unnecessary the fact might be.

"Lan..." I whisper, trying to tell him about my feelings, but the words get stuck in my throat.

"Fuck, I fell in love with you months ago and tried to show you because I am not good with words, but if I have to stay away from you for any longer, I am going to explode." Before Lando starts his pacing again, I grab his second wrist, holding him in front of me.

"Can I kiss you?" I blurt out with a shaking voice, not knowing how to form the right words to confess my feelings for him. So why not show?

"What?" Lando asks back, eyes wide, flicking between my lips and eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" I ask him, slowly, while looking at his face.

Lando doesn't even answer, doesn't nod his head, instead just leans down and lets his lips crash down on mine. Like he is afraid the moment is going to vanish if he hesitates.

It might not be perfect, a little too desperate, a little too messy, but kind of perfect for us. His hand holding up my chin, my fingers getting tangled in his hair, while my other hand rests right over Lando's heart. I try to stand on my tiptoes to get more out of his touch and he sighs softly against my lips. When we finally break apart, it is just for gasping for air. Mind not ready to be parted, but our lungs are craving for air.

"You have no idea how long I wanted to do that." Lando sighs, forehead resting against mine and his arms wrap around my waist to keep me close to his chest.

"I can imagine when I think of the time when all of your attention started." I smile at him and a laugh rumbles in his chest. Thinking back, I can figure out when his liking for me started and I don't know how I didn't notice earlier.

"I am sorry for not noticing earlier." I apologise to Lando, who just tightens his grip around me, whispering an "No need for apologising" and then presses his lips on mine to kiss me over and over again.

[yatori-morgana]

————————————

Blood

In which the Leech twins see something they shouldn't have, but they aren't complaining~

Contents & Warnings: established relationship, blood & murder, mentions of cannibalism, tweels being freaky, kinda suggestive?

»Jade Leech x gn!Reader x Floyd Leech

————————————

The blood was everywhere. Splattered on the floor, coating yourself, coloring the body from whence it bled… Everywhere. Brilliant red, drying into an unappetizing brown, as all blood did. You stared down at the fresh corpse, apathetic. They meant nothing to you. You hardly knew them. All that mattered was they got what they had coming to them.

The liquid once warm on your face had started cooling.

"…Y/n?"

The sound of your name tumbling from someone else's lips stopped you dead in your tracks. The wrist you held in your hand dropped to the ground with a dull thud, and you slowly turned from your place on your knees. Your eyes met heterochromic ones.

Jade.

You didn't know what to say, what to do. No one was supposed to know. But it was only Jade. Surely it was fine? But no, what if he had wanted you for your perceived innocence, something to balance his own sin? No, that didn't sound like Jade. But what if this still somehow made you undesirable? It certainly could. It had made you unlovable before. It was almost inevitable that it would happen once again. Such was your fate, you always believed.

He took a step toward you, expression as unreadable as ever.

This was it, this was the moment you always knew would come. The moment of—

Soft lips met your own, drawing a gasp from you. His hand came to your cheek and smeared the sticky blood across your skin, staining himself in the process. Beautiful lashes fluttered while his eyes closed, and his touch once more entranced you.

This kiss was one of the sweetest he'd ever blessed you with, and you couldn't fathom it in your shock. Why?

When he pulled away, he made sure to swipe a thumb over your lower lip. You stared up at him in a daze, but he only smiled, those dazzling teeth on full display in all their razor sharp glory.

"Jade…"

"You've always been beautiful," he murmured, still leaned over you just slightly, "but in this moment, you're ethereal."

Ethereal?

A flush adorned your cheeks, and you raised a hand to hover over the lips he'd kissed so lovingly. "I don't understand," you dumbly admitted.

"You're simply gorgeous covered in the blood of your victims," he answered all too sweetly. "I couldn't resist. I'd take you right now if not for the company of our dearly departed." He gestured to the corpse.

"You still want me?"

"Hm?" Jade tilted his head in curiosity, his mismatched eyes seemingly twinkling as he scrutinized you. "But of course, my love. Did you really think I'd abandon you over something as trivial as this? Please, have more faith in me."

Trivial?

But of course. A stranger's life was worth precious little to someone like Jade. Yet, you had doubted. You should've been more worried about him killing you, not you killing another. What an embarrassment.

"Ah, you're shaking." He knelt in front of you, once more taking your cheek in hand. "Cold? Or do you truly fear abandonment?" He seemed more amused than anything, and you looked down in burning shame. "Chin up, pearl. You'd have to make a grievous mistake for me to leave you — and frankly, I'd kill you on the spot for such a betrayal, so you wouldn't have long to regret it."

"Oh." You awkwardly laughed, but your gaze never lifted. It was an incredibly Jade response, yet you still found yourself unbalanced by it. He must've noticed because he chuckled quietly and pulled you onto his lap.

"Oh, darling relax. I'm only hurt you didn't invite me. I'd've at least liked to watch. Now, would you rather get cleaned up, or do you need more time to rest?" He pressed another kiss to your forehead, and you clung to him like he might very well drop you anyway.

"Stay," is all you said.

"Rest it is."

--

Blood smeared across your tongue as you dragged it along the blade in your hand. Sharp, tangy, and delicious. You were tempted to carve a chunk from the body in front of you, but you knew raw meat was not ideal. Sure, you could've cooked it, but smoke from a flame would draw unwanted attention, and taking it back with you would be a risk, too. It was a shame, really. One should always use every part of their catch, yet you had to constantly deny yourself such pleasures.

Still, you should enjoy the forest while you could. Letting that opportunity go to waste would be the real shame.

"I smell it over here~" A lilting voice mumbled, and your head snapped up. "So fresh~"

Your head turned all too slowly. First Jade, now Floyd? How many more people would catch you in the act? You were lucky it was only them. Anyone else, and you would either be behind bars or cut down in an instant. Except perhaps Azul. He knew when and how to keep his trap shut.

"Ahh~ Shrimpy, whatcha doin' here~?" Floyd singsonged. "And— Oh. My bad~ Ya hunting~?"

Your fingers twitched, hands wanting to move but refusing to, and your eyes locked with his. He maintained his mildly interested, mostly sleepy expression, relatively unbothered. His hand moved to behind his head in a relaxed pose.

"…Sorta." You didn't know what else to tell him. This didn't deter him, though, and he stepped close enough to lean over to you.

"Mm~ Clean kill~ But ya coulda asked me if you were hungry~" Floyd knelt down, and his fingers slowly clasped around your arms, just shy of your shoulders. His voiced dropped low. "I'm always happy t'hunt for my mate~"

A shudder ran through you. Not in fear or disgust, naturally, but something much less flattering.

"It's not like that," you said. "It's… I don't know. I need to do it."

His chin came to rest on your shoulder. "You're hungry," he whispered, "but not for food, huh~?"

You stayed silent, but that was enough evidence for him.

"Don't worry~" He cooed. "Me 'n' Jade won't tell~" His hands slid down your arms, and your breathing stuttered. "You're jus' like us, after all. Hehe, who knew our Shrimpy was such a freak, eh~?"

"Please don't say stuff like that," you muttered. "S'embarrassing."

"You were gonna waste this," he realized, lifting his head up. "Why?"

Your answer was clipped. "Could get caught."

His arms slipped around your waist. "Don't worry~ No one's gonna see us. Lemme help ya cook this~"

"But Floyd—"

"Shh…" He nuzzled your cheek with his. "You're not gonna waste your catch. We'll eat it together~"

You sighed. His mind was made up, and he'd drag you around until he got what he wanted, so there was no use in arguing. Still, you felt a smile coming on. Yes, you were a freak. Not in the fun way he meant it, but a freak nonetheless. And yet, he accepted you in all your gory glory. He and Jade both.

"…Fine. Have it your way."

————————————

[readerihardlyknowher]

Would you do a Spencer x Reader where the reader is constantly shipped with someone else and he gets jealous? ❤️❤️❤️

Ok I really really liked this, I ended up writing both this and the last post yesterday but wanted to space it out some.

Spencer Agnew x Reader, mostly gn except for one mention of gf at the end Warnings: None WC: 1,735

“Y/n and Damien would lowkey be cute together ngl”

“The way Damien looks at Y/n ASKSJFLAJF”

“Have you guys seen the edit of them from the latest video 👀👀"

Spencer was not blind to the massive fanbase surrounding you and your fellow coworker, and he can see why; you both get along like glue. He doesn’t even know why he really cares for what the fans think in that way, he knows it’s not good for his mental health. But seeing something so innocent such as the two of you leaning against each other during Reddit Stories made him clench his jaw when he saw it. Not because he thought you were into Damien, but because the fans thought you were. Spencer knew as well that he had no right to be upset when neither of you had gone public with your relationship. It’s why he was so happy to be with someone as amazing as you, because despite your love of being on camera, you were more than satisfied keeping your relationship private, even with the downsides it came with.

“Spence! Come on, we’re on!” Your voice snaps him from his thoughts, he barely has any time to process before you’re pulling his arm and into the bright and shining lights of the VidCon stage, letting go once you’re about to become visible.

The cheers from the audience is deafening, and makes everyone on stage a little nervous, but especially Spencer, who’d rather do anything than sit in front of a large crowd. The only thing that manages to distract him from his anxiety is seeing you and the smile on your face as you take a seat in your chair, right beside him and the rest of the cast.

The show begins with everyone briefly introducing themselves to the audience, before Shayne announces that they’ll be doing another live Reddit Stories video, which of course, everyone cheers for. Shayne begins with the infamous iPad, reading a story from r/Relationships. The whole time he reads though, Spencer was preoccupied with thoughts of anxiety, both from being in front of such a large number of people, and being right next to you. Some part of him hopes that the fans will hone in on that, say something like “wait, Spencer and Y/n look kinda cute together.”

You, on the other hand, notice Spencer’s worried expression, knowing him well enough to know when he’s nervous. So, you decide to reach your hand out to hold his in your own, gently running your thumb over the back of his hand. The both of you sit behind Courtney, Keith, and Trevor, and the seats are low enough that your hands can’t be seen if they’re low enough. Spencer looks over at you, meeting your eyes and searching for any sort of support he can find. You see the look and offer him a soft smile, as if to say “it’s okay, I’m here” without a single word exchanged. This does manage to help him and he tunes back into the story being read, despite having missed most of it. 

“Wait, okay, so this guy thought inviting OP’s sister into a threesome was a good idea?!” Courtney shouted, shocked by the content of the story that the two of you had missed, saying enough in that sentence alone for you to know what the post was about. Everyone makes their rounds of comments on the story before eventually moving on to the next post.

By the second post, Spencer has significantly calmed down, but he still has not relinquished his hold onto your hand. He tells you frequently how there’s something about you that grounds him, and right now he needs it. You, on the other hand, feel a little nervous about holding his hand for so long, worried that someone from the audience or a camera might see. You had refrained from being public because it was Spencer’s request, and you understood it completely. So, with his hand in yours in such a public setting, you wonder how long it will be that you two are kept private for, and hoping that you two will get to be the ones to announce that instead of someone else happening to catch you holding hands.

Eventually, it’s time to move onto the Q&A section of the show, and Shayne’s once again reading them all from his iPad. It starts out simple, with questions like “What’s everyone’s favorite videogame?” “What’s Shayne’s workout routine?” “How do people feel about AI?” and then eventually delved into some more personal questions, with some of the cast more willing to answer than others. One of the questions asked is “What’s everyone’s type?” Despite getting a laugh from the cast, only a few actually decide to give their answer, including you.

“Okay, just talking personality here, I really like nerds. It’s true, I love when people will just yap about their interests, there’s something so attractive about it.”

Spencer didn’t even need to look at you to know you were making an inside reference to him. The words excited him, you announcing to the world that your type is him. It brings a smile to his face, a smile almost nothing could take away. Nothing except–

“Like Damien!” Someone’s voice shouts through the audience, causing a ripple of people cheering and some shouting your ship name.

Spencer had never been angrier than in this moment. It took all his energy to not visibly show it on his expression, taking it out instead by squeezing your hand a little tighter. You could feel it, the anger and frustration in your boyfriend that your fans wanted you to get with another man. It’s a discussion you’ve had in private a few times before, not about Damien directly, he had nothing to do with the problem, but about how hurtful it was, not having your audience see the two of you together and not ship you. Of course, there were the few fans who did, and you had followed them on your secret account, but they were far from the most popular. You hold his hand tighter before answering, trying not to seem upset by the question.

“Look, Damien’s great and all you, you guys – I mean, he’s one of my closest friends – but he’s not the only nerdy yapper in existence,” you respond, which makes the audience laugh, with a few people booing. Spencer looks over at your face, seeing how you’re clearly straining to remain happy looking. But how could you feel happy when people are unintentionally hurting your boyfriend? You had to set the record straight once again that you and Damien are just friends. Luckily, Damien speaks up as well.

“Yeah, and let’s maybe keep all that energy on the internet. You don’t know if people are going to be okay with that being said to their face. Besides, in this cast alone there’s like, five nerdy yappers, pick someone else for once,” Damien says, a little exasperated but trying to play it off as a joke. The two of you had both connected over the fact that while you do love each other, you don’t like to see each other in that way. Your heart was already taken by Spencer. At this point, Spencer had gained enough confidence that he decided to make a comment as well.

“I mean, if anyone needs to pick another nerdy yapper to ship Y/n with…” Spencer said with a smug expression, causing the fans to cheer and you to shoot him a surprised expression. You give him a small, confused glance, as if to ask if he’s really being so bold in public, which he just responds to with another smug look. You consider his comment and the implications of it. Just that alone will cause people to see you two that way, which you had assumed he didn’t want in order to keep your relationship private. However, you weren’t going to complain if it meant he was feeling more confident.

The Q&A eventually ends and so does the Smosh Live segment. As you all head back behind stage, everyone hugs each other and says how amazing everyone did. You turn to Spencer, still reeling from his comment, before practically jumping into his arms with a hug. He holds you tight, burying his face in your neck and planting a small, secret kiss there before pulling back. He stares at you for a second, not saying anything, before suddenly rushing out a sentence.

“I want to talk with you later in our room.”

The words confused you and even worried you a little, but the excitedly nervous expression on his face told you that there was nothing to be worried about. You nod as a reply for now, before turning back to join the rest of the cast.

It takes a while to get back to the hotel, first having dinner with the cast and some crew, then going out for a couple drinks, before finally getting back to the hotel room you share with your boyfriend.

Once you both unwind a little from the busy day, Spencer takes you to sit on the bed beside each other, facing one another. You give him some time to formulate his words as they anxiously sit on his tongue. 

“Y/n…” He begins. His mind is torn in many different places. He wants to be known as your boyfriend, he wants to know that people won’t want you with someone else, he wants you to not be ashamed of him. “I think… I think I’m ready to be public. For us to be public.”

It takes you a moment to process his words. To you, being with him had been all you ever wanted, even before you had known it’s what you wanted. You didn’t care if fans knew or not, you just wanted him. But right now, his tense expression and vulnerable words made you want to do whatever it was he requested, and you had no problem obliging this one.

“Spence, I’d love to go public.” A sigh of relief left him at your words. A part of him had wondered whether or not you’d even want to after he made you wait for so long, but either way, he was happy. “Would you like to make a post tomorrow announcing it?”

“That would be amazing, hun.”

(ignore how there's more comments than likes, I forgot to add an extra digit to the likes)

[cuppajj]

You know, I just really, really want to say this. You are an exceptionally talented artist. I was genuinely surprised when you answered that one ask a while ago, saying you're self-taught. Because I truly, legitimately believed you were an art student or something lol. I'm honestly blown away by the fact that you're self-taught. That you figured all of this out all by yourself. Both your Cookie Run stuff and your original work. You should be proud, because I know it must've taken you a lot of time and hard work to get to where you are today. I both admire you greatly and envy you terribly (the latter stings a little to say, but it's true haha). I wish I could do what you can. You make it all look so easy... I wish I could say I'm your equal, but I'm far from it and I'm not sure how long it'll take for me to get there, or if I'll ever get there at all. But seeing what you're able to accomplish now is really rather inspiring. If you can do it, then maybe I can, too. Someday. Somehow. If only it could be today, though haha

Sorry if I sound weird or mushy, I've actually wanted to say this to you for a while now. I sincerely hope you find pride and joy in your art because you deserve to. Your drawings, your animations, even your writing. You're a jack of all trades haha. You're a very talented, creative, fun and hardworking person. And I wish you all the joy and success in the world, all the time. You've got something really great going here, keep it up for as long as you're able and willing to

Aww Merchant, that’s so sweet of you!!

I don’t often think of how far I’ve come mostly all by myself, let alone the message it can carry.. admittedly one of my biggest artist flaws is acknowledging my accomplishments haha, so this message really means a lot!

If I could give any advice for you:

Believe me when I felt like my art style was stagnating for the longest time, but I’ve come to learn that in just four years I’ve gone from having okay-but-mid art to making some pieces that impress the worst critic in myself!! And really the only thing that changed was my mindset. I stopped wanting to make high quality stuff every time and instead focused on the gradual grind. Commitment is what makes or breaks an artist.

And sadly, art is not easy. You’re going to hate how your art looks. You’re going to be envious of other artists. You’re going to compare yourself. I was like that once, still have those moments today. But the secret to truly feeling like your art is yours is to acknowledge that you’re constantly improving. Don’t call yourself an equal (or a superior or inferior) to anyone, because that implies there’s an established objective tier of artists with you below people you’re inspired by. Every artist has their own flow, their own starting point, their own ways of growing, which makes comparison unfair and more unhealthy than you think!

I’ve seen your redraw of Pepper Jack and Celestial Cheese, and your art has changed a lot within a year for the better. I think that’s a sign! The only difference between you and me is I started before you. But, that’s neither a right or a wrong thing, just a fact that has no effect on you.

I think the only goal an artist should have is learning to appreciate the art they make. I’m still reaching for that myself, and someday you’ll get there if you try! Just be less hard on yourself. Acknowledge where you are and where you were. And most importantly, keep at it! You might be surprised how much can change in another year

[eatsbooks]

a deep dive into eris vanserra's birth chart

virgo sun — mutable, earth, mercury-ruled

intelligent and methodical. extremely caring but reserved in expressing his full range of emotions. prefers routine and consistency. always structured or otherwise very organized in what he does. knowledgeable and exacting but open to altering his opinions or points of view given new information and adequate reason. sarcastic and humorous. harsh on himself and on his loved ones in an effort to incite growth. ambitious — no-nonsense attitude in completing tasks and seeing them through to their end.

capricorn moon — fixed, earth, saturn-ruled

the moon is in detriment in capricorn, making emotional connections particularly difficult for him — both in expression and acceptance. this moon sign is associated with growing up too quickly and having a strained relationship with the mother. need i say more. prefers logic over feeling. insists on digging deeper to see all sides of a situation before forming an opinion and allowing an emotional response. a general sense of never being quite satisfied with what he currently has, always needing to push on to more, to better. keeps emotions close to the chest, buried deep, until perhaps they are not quite even there anymore, until something cracks down into the core of him and the pressure forces them to erupt.

libra mercury — cardinal, air, venus-ruled

extremely intelligent but perhaps underestimated by others. seeks balance — constantly weighing the pros and cons before executing decisions. can easily read into intentions but not necessarily intuitive when it comes to emotions. tactful when required. would prefer to bottle up personal issues than start an interpersonal argument. not a very confrontational placement on its own, but with a scorpio mars chart ruler and an aries rising, this is outweighed when the confrontation extends beyond interpersonal relationships. an element of justice-seeking to his thought processes — not a binary right and wrong, good and bad, but a sense of, i will see this put to rights, whatever that looks like to me in this situation.

virgo venus — mutable, earth, mercury-ruled

venus is in fall in virgo, making the way eris shows love easy to be misinterpreted and his acceptance of love stilted. shows love through consistency and action. grand, heartfelt, romantic sentiments are unlikely to sway him, and he is not going to participate in them readily. wants to see affection through what others do to prove it exists — because that is how he shows it. needs someone as motivated as himself. initially skeptical and closed off towards love, critical of it even. diligent and practical once he lets the love in. will take care of all the little things so his partner does not have to, will try to quietly perfect everything because way down deep, all he has ever wanted is to be taken care of in that way.

scorpio mars — fixed, water, mars-ruled

mars is in domicile in scorpio, meaning that taking action comes naturally to him. where an aries mars would give him a sort of overt aggression, scorpio mars gives eris that covert aggression he is known for. incredibly strategic, possessive, and analytical. sees everything (bolstering his libra mercury) and knows how and when to act on the information he has to greatest effect. very passionate when working towards a goal or engaging with a subject that interests him. does not like to ask for help even if needed — would rather use information as leverage than reveal any weakness in outright asking. has a difficult time expressing his emotions; they might not be recognizable at all even when the action he takes is in pursuit of them because of how well he hides his true motivations.

aries ascendant — cardinal, fire, mars-ruled

aries in the first house means that eris’s scorpio mars rules his chart, governing the trajectory of his life and coloring his personality. while an aries rising is typically very straightforward and direct, his scorpio mars chart ruler (and capricorn moon and libra mercury) gives him that never-quite-says-anything-plainly affect. intense and passionate, vocal and in-charge; demands the attention of a room without even having to ask for it. can be charming when he wants to be, but when he doesn't, he is hellfire, he is wrath. confrontation does not cow him. knows what it is he wants, and he will get it. does not often need to repeat himself or ask twice — and if he has to, he will do it himself.

[cheralith]

Hiii hope you're having a good day/evening, please ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m still in love with your cannibal au and thank you so much for feeding us with hiori content.

My heads bin so stuck on karasu as of late (also one of my best boys) after your cannibal au head canons. I can’t stop imagining karasu forcing his readers head into the nape of his neck and making her drink his blood to get her to calm down.

I might be projecting as a shy person that loves someone taking care of me when I don’t realize I need it. But do you think this is something he would actually do?

🍡 - anon

cw: mild violence, blood, cannibalism!au, cannibal!reader

oh very much so . VERY MUCH SO. the entire dynamic between karasu and his reader vs. kaiser and his is almost the weird mirroring of themselves, but also almost a foil (more on karasu and ksr!reader's end rather than the cannibals)? if that makes sense; i'll explore more of them later.

karasu's reader has a harder time trying to adjust—as most new cannibals do. they even refuse to eat even the small, dried pieces of meat that karasu provides for them to relieve their hunger in place of a medication that he's still trying to gather all the ingredients for.

it's not like karasu doesn't want them to resist, that's the main goal of his rehab after all. but he's doing it in the way where they build resistance against their instincts while still being in sync with their nature. reader does it in a way that's basically torturing themself and not allowing their new self solace, thinking that if they resist against it enough, they could maybe... just maybe go back to their normal life.

but in the way of life, nothing good comes from denying yourself life in the way you're supposed to live it. so when reader goes completely feral one day during meat training, breaking out of the restraints and chair and leaping towards karasu with their teeth bared, eyes a fiery red, and saliva dripping from your chin, he thinks he's really in for it.

he's a strong guy—he puts up a good fight and manages to tackle you down, the impact of your head hitting a wall so hard it makes you regain your consciousness. at the sight of a rugged-breath karasu whose shirt is tattered from your nails with a couple of scratches and bruises here and there, along with how wet your own shirt was from your saliva, it doesn't take you too long to understand what happened.

so you cry. you sob and wail and blubber apologies at what you've done (or nearly did), finally coming to an epiphany that nothing will be the same as it was before you attacked that poor high schooler after your brother's funeral, the grief you felt back then now coming back to you tenfold.

karasu worries that you might spiral back again, especially since you've been so depleted of a food source to stabilize you, so he shoves your head down into the crook of his neck where the blood is most succulent and tells you to bite down and drink his blood. you argue and resist at first, but he's insistent and tells you to do it before he sedates you.

"it's just the blood," he commands, hand gripping your hair tightly, but not painfully. just to keep you in place. "it'll help—ya gotta trust me."

he can feel the hesitation from your breath when you open your mouth, teeth shyly gripping his skin before they sink down enough where blood from underneath the layers begins to draw. he hisses at the feeling, fighting his own instincts to push you away, and groans when your tongue glides over the pierced skin, lapping up his blood.

and you and him just stay there for awhile; you on top of him, eyes closed and relaxed for the first time in weeks, breaths steady. karasu stares up at the dim light, hand still cradling your head, and trying to understand what to do with you to distract himself from the pain.

[frost-eyed-autumn]

Chuuya furrows his brow at the bird-like thing, and it's... way too close to something else he's dealt with that he'd rather not think about. He's dealt with at least three monsters in this world that defy both logic and go beyond what most know about Abilities. Technically, he's harboring a fourth such unfathomable being.

He's both morbidly curious and simultaneously doesn't want to know where she's encountered whatever that thing is. Paired with that though and whatever strange, lumbering things she summoned before at the cafe, the question of who are you and where do you come from? itched ever stronger at the back of his mind.

For now though, focus.

Closing his eyes -- partially to think and partially to hide those thoughts from being easily read -- he considers their options. Two other guys? He finds himself thinking of who Mori would choose in this situation. The people who could provide the most optimal results undercover. That would probably be...

"Get me Fumihito Kimura. Tell him its an urgent job. I'll take the heat for pulling him away from any other important matters he might be dealing with if necessary," he says to one of his men, who gives a small bow and departs.

Then he points to another person among the crowd. "Hiraku, you're up for this one. I trust you can do a good job in the impersonation department."

"Yes sir," he bows.

"The rest of you already know what to do. How's our ETA looking?"

The man at the computer replies, "about two hours and twenty-three minutes, give or take."

The gears in his head were turning, filling in the gaps of his plans like clockwork puzzle-pieces into something more solid than the twenty or so-odd possibilities he had been toying with.

"Jun, Kazuo, Aoi, Cho, Saori, you five are on the distraction team. Make up some kind of road block or obstruction between our targets and the smuggler rendezvous to slow down their arrival. I don't care what, just make it look civilian. Buy us time to dupe the smugglers and send them on their way." A small chorus of yes sir's answered him, before he looked to Neo again.

"Yeah. You're sticking with me tonight until I say otherwise. Then it'll just be you, Fumihito, and Hiraku until we find that base." He swiveled on his heel and started for the cars.

"Let's go."

𝐍𝐄𝐎 𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 the meat of the planning, but that doesn't mean she isn't capable of it. While the old methods used to be her gathering intel and Roman making the meat of the plan- with her improvising as necessary (and it was necessary more often than Roman would like to admit)- she's good at sneaking around. She was already good at sneaking around before she went to the Academy, but going there only made her more capable of escape and infiltration both. Getting into places where she shouldn't be is practically second nature by now.

However, as Chuuya speaks, Neo considers his thoughts and then shrugs in acknowledgement. He's got a point, and the more people involved the easier it is for the plan to fall apart. Considering the plan again, she resets, changing it to herself and two other people. Neo and the driver, and then a pair of people to take the place of a couple of others.

I can go by myself, no problem. If we can spare two people that aren't weaklings, that's ideal. Because if nothing else, I can get us out easily.

In Neo's hands, a small black bird appears- only next to the illusions, it's more than large enough to fit all three figures on its back. Its four, bright red eyes blink up at Chuuya, and Neo tilts her head in a similar way. Her thoughts explained, she dissipates the illusion with a wave of her hand, and then gestures at their surroundings.

(Not for the first time, she finds herself curious about how many people Chuuya has under his command. Of just how much pull the Port Mafia really has. And of just how much her perceived 'Ability' must be a problem to them if he's so willing to make concessions to have her in their employ. Of course, she has the understanding that there are more factors at play, including the government but even so... it almost makes her preen a little.)

I'm guessing we're doing this tonight then? I'm ready to go when you are, if that's the case.

[rheaxsethi]

Rhea swirled the whiskey in her glass, letting his words settle into the spaces most people didn’t have the nerve—or the honesty—to reach. Her eyes didn’t flinch under his gaze. If anything, they sharpened, not from suspicion but recognition. There was something in what he said that rang too true, too familiar, like someone humming a song she hadn’t heard in years but still remembered the words to.

“You say that like I didn’t flinch,” she said softly, lips curving around the edge of her glass. “I did. I flinched the first time I saw you coming. But some ghosts don't scare me—they just make me want to learn the story.” She tilted her head, studying him in the same way she might study a puzzle that refused to come apart cleanly. “And maybe I didn’t run because I’ve spent most of my life being the thunder people scatter from. Kind of poetic, isn’t it? That I’d sit across from someone who knows what the quiet before a storm really feels like.”

She let the silence stretch for a beat, then leaned in ever so slightly, like sharing a secret. “You’re not wrong, though. I don’t scare easy. Our first interaction is proof of that, don’t you think?” She let the memory hang between them, a private replay only they understood. Then, with a slight tilt of her head, she added, “I’ve never trusted loud men who brag about being dangerous—real danger doesn’t need an introduction. It just walks into the room and changes the temperature.” Her eyes didn’t waver. “And while you were a little loud that first night, there was something quieter underneath all that... bravado. Something that made me stay.”

Her gaze softened, but it never lost its precision. “So what do I make of you?” Her smile flickered—not coy, but measured. “I make you for a man who’s tired of playing roles, but hasn’t figured out who he is without the script. Someone who still wears his armour under his skin, but who’s starting to wonder what it might feel like to take it off… even just for a night.” Because truthfully, Rhea couldn’t promise more than that—not to him, not to anyone. Staying guarded was the only protection she had left, and she’d cling to it until her fingers went numb.

She raised her glass to meet his. “We probably are fools. But you’re right—we’re not boring ones. And I’d rather be haunted and honest than safe and forgettable.” Then, almost as an afterthought, she added with a hint of mischief, “Besides, there’s something kind of hot about a man who looks at your ghosts and doesn’t blink.”

The whiskey lingered honey-gold on his tongue as her words settled between them. Her question cut straight through pretense, sharp and precise. What did he make of her? This woman who sat across from him, unafraid despite their rocky beginning. His lips quirked into a half-smile, amused by her boldness. "A misguided fool would've run when they had the chance," he replied, studying the play of shadows across her face. "But you? You walked right in knowing exactly what you were doing." His fingers traced the rim of his glass, fascinated by her comfort in this uncertain space they'd created. "Not many people call me out and stick around to see what happens next. Most scatter like birds when thunder rolls in." Her presence intrigued him more than it should. She carried confidence like a second skin, worn so naturally he couldn't help admiring it. Not the brittle kind that cracked under pressure, but something deeper—tested and proven through fire.

"Makes me think you've seen enough to know when a threat's just business versus when it's personal," he continued, voice dropping lower. "This makes me think that you sense danger the same way I do: not by the noise it makes, but by the stillness before it strikes." He leaned forward slightly, drawn into her gravity without meaning to be. "So what do I make of you?" A genuine smile tugged at his mouth. "I make you for someone who collects secrets instead of running from them. Someone who looks at ghosts head-on instead of pretending they aren't there." Her earlier words about waiting for someone who wouldn't flinch at ghosts echoed in his mind. She'd pegged him more accurately than anyone had in years. It stirred something dormant inside him—not danger, but a peculiar warmth. "And maybe I'm curious what happens when two people stop pretending they're normal." His eyes held hers, honest in a way that surprised even him. "Because normal people don't have conversations about reinvention and ghosts in mirrors. Normal people don't recognize each other's carefully built walls and decide to peek over them anyway." He raised his glass slightly in her direction. "So maybe we're both fools. But at least we're interesting ones."

[the---warden]

dso stressed i feel like im going to die

[firefox-enthusiast]

Do it even though the result might or will be rubbish, terrible, incomprehensible. You will learn from it.

Do it.

I read a post the other day that really resonated with me, it was about people hating contemporary art and dismissing it without further thought because "anyone could do *that*" And their response was : then do it, please! Make shitty music and 'bad' art. I would love to see it, more art in the world what a fantastic result of your disdain and outrage. Please make something!

Also, a bit of a tangent. When is it art and when is it just making things or crafting something? Is it not writing if nobody reads it? WHO CARES. Anything that aims to make sense or beauty of our world is wonderful regardless of people's label of it.

And I know this is mostly about stuff like travel, cooking or sightseeing, but there is art and creativity in so many aspects of mundane life. Please, do it. Whatever it is. Do it.

people are saying do it scared, but you also gotta do it alone. you'll miss out on so much you want to do if you wait til someone will do it with you. do it scared and do it alone.

[i-am-a-fish]

Sex Ed Time

ok I'm gonna tell you about some things that might happen if you are transitioning m->f. this is not a comprehensive list just my own experience, be sure to do your own research I just really wanted to voice how this affects me because I think open discussion about this type of stuff is just more helpful for everyone rather than keeping it private

BOOBS HURT WHEN THEY GROW

your sex drive (libido) will probably go down a lot

facial hair is very hard to get rid of

my go-to gender affirming clothing is high-waisted jeans. I suggest going to a goodwill or some sort of cheap store that lets you try on clothes to figure out what you like

muscle mass will go down, fat will be redistributed

boobs do all sorts of crazy stuff when you run / exercise

overtime your skin will get softer, you also might smell nicer, and I've been told it can thin body hair but I don't really see it all that much 🤷

your brain chemistry can change when you reduce testosterone and increase estrogen, there are lots of factors that contribute toward any changes to your personality, but hormones can have an impact as well. for me this is a good thing because I struggle with allowing myself to feel emotions sometimes, no matter how hard I tried I was never really able to get myself to cry. I've gotten closer to being able to cry since I started transitioning though and that makes me very happy

this is a slow process that can take several years, ultimately you're going to be in your body for several years regardless, so if this is something you want it's definitely something you should try to pursue if possible. the time will pass anyways, and it does feel nice to work towards something that can make you happier.

also this is very important, you don't need to do any sort of hormone replacement therapy in order to be trans. not everybody can access HRT, and for those who can access it, not everybody wants to take on all the changes that come with treatments. you don't have to chemically or physically change your body in any way in order to deserve respect

all right that's all I have for right now feel free to add anything in the comments, I would especially like to hear from trans men what your experiences have been, I think openly talking about these types of things can really help some people

[kkusuka]

more roommate simon!

i love the idea that simon thinks he's super open and available with his emotions and reader thinking he's really cold and disinterested. is he ooc? yeah. do i care? no. if you want cannon ghost, play the game!

simon riley doesn't know when you became so important to him.

the only reason he even put out the ad for a roommate was because his landlord though he'd moved out while he was away and he'd rather have some bird in his place than deal with that again.

you were just so easy; showing up to the coffee shop (where you requested to have your first meeting just in case he was some crazy murderer) face flushed, strands of hair all over the place, and sweater a mess; rushing to explain how you got sprayed by a sprinkler on your walk over then chased by a dog. and just as you repeat sorry for the 30th time simon thinks he's in love. you're officially his roommate 30 minutes later.

but it's so out of character for him. he hasn't been around anything other than hard ass military men since he was a teenager. fuck, he's killed hundreds of men in his line of work, tortured thousands more. (he doesn't like to think that that's why he's so drawn to you. that you're so different from who he has to be, someone he's been for so long, that being around you lets him breathe. that he feels like he can actually sit and enjoy his moments away from the field in your tiny manchester apartment.)

he thinks it actually started with the decorations.

the small trinkets you let around the common spaces when he was away. it starts with your room obviously; fairy lights above your bed that spills light into the hallway when he comes home in the early morning hours, paintings on the wall that eventually flow over into the living room, the small plants in your window sill that you ask him to water one day after you leave for work.

then the dinner table suddenly has checkerboard placemats and a vase of flowers that change with the season. and his run-down couch has decorative pillows and a throw blanket (both words he learned from you when he questions what the fuck is on his couch). then the bathroom in the hallway gets a new soap stand, and a mat is placed at your front door, next to the shoe organizer and coat rack.

so he starts buying things too; the penguin plushie in the supermarket window, the vase that matches the curtains in the living room, and a small skull magnet to rest on the face of your fridge.

and before simon knows it his dreary, cold apartment actually looks lived in. and instead of coming home to a dark hallway and an empty fridge, your flower lamp is on, some random show from the 90s is playing, and there's food on the table.

he gets to know you more than he thought he would; he knows what foods you don't like, the books you're reading and the ones you refuse to read again, and even that dick from work he promises to take care of if he bothers you again (it's evident that you think it's a joke and not something that he would genuinely do but simon doesn't think he's ever been more serious).

but he never lets you know too much about him, you don't need to know about it and the less you find out the better.

then came dinners, actual dinner not just him showing up while you already had food ready. you would ask if he wanted whatever you had made ( 'i'm already making food and i normally don't eat is all anyway, so i might as well share' ). so suddenly he was spending his nights at your table with a homecooked meal and simon doesn't think he could ever let this go.

then he gets sent away again, for way longer this time. he makes sure to update his paperwork, changes his emergency contact, your name swirled onto the spouse line. you were probably as close as he'll ever get to one and if you're there they'll tell you if anything happens to him faster. he doesn't want to think of how nice your first name looks with his last name. and you'll probably never even know, simon's never gotten that injured before and he doesn't plan on it now.

months in the heat of the middle east return him to hard shell of a man he was. coming home caked in dirt, blood speckled on his clothes; he doesn't want you to see him like this, he doesn't want you to know this version of him. and for the first time he regrets letting you come into his life.

you are home when he gets back, 2:30 in the morning and every light is off, he opens your door to make sure. you're asleep, not shocking, cuddled into the giant octopus you won at an arcade. he tries not to move, he just wants to look at you for a little bit.

he wakes up the next morning to breakfast and a new pair of combat boots. he's only home for a week this time, not that he's ever home for longer than a month, and he tries to soak up all of your time. you complain about your car, he's on it. the heater started being testy, that's fine he'll take care of it. he's going grocery shopping with you, he watching that weird hospital show, and he enjoys his time in domestic bliss before getting thrown back into some random country.

somehow that all led him here. laying in a hospital bed with two bullets lodged in his shoulder with you sitting in some shitty chair pulled as close to the bed as you could.

"so uh, i'm mrs. riley now?"

"yeah, ya are. 'av been for a while."

[snekdood]

idk who needs to hear this but memorizing shit in school doesnt make you smart