#They know he has high intelligence

[ailithnight]

Reacting like that turns out to be a mistake. Now LBM knows that button garners a big reaction. It's his new favorite button. He carries it with him everywhere and attempts to take it away are met with violent force the likes of which Bats didn't even know LBM was capable of.

We've all seen baby man Danny doing crazy stuff like take over the world and become president, mayor, defeat cults, or become a pet.

So imagine the typical baby man Danny being adopted by the Batfam

But one of the bat kids having the bright idea of giving him dog buttons

Made a real quick animation

[avnasace]

honestly even if he is a pretty bad person in the silm i want more curufin content. like this is a guy who grew up with 'everyone sees me as a copy of my father and nothing else' syndrome. he was the son of his father, and the father of his son. thats got to be rough.

and with the oath and the many spirals of bad decisions, he is definetly not the paragon of goodness, but ultimately he is a person who was once loved, by a wife and son and brothers and parents and so i refuse to believe he is completely irredeemable in spirit.

its also interesting to me that he is the middle link between the creator of the silmarils and the creator of the rings of power, its quite sad, for a person literally named little father, and also even sharing a fathername with his father, that he has nothing to show for himself with his own craft is pretty tragic honestly.

[lala-blahblah]

I will never make this because it would be for an audience of one (me) but ever since reading "If we Were Villains" (story about serious drama kids in college who perform shakespeare and deal with a murder) I have been entertaining the thought of a crack fic crossover with High School Musical The Musical The Series where the staff decides they will no longer put on shakespeare after the tragic accident that happened at Thanksgiving, because Shakespeare plays would only increase the tension and drama. So they hire Ms. Jen who decides their spring play will actually be High School Musical (which exists in the 90s in this universe) and it ruins the vibe so much that everyone gives up on being dark and mysterious because they're universally pissed at Ms Jen for making them learn choreoraphed basketball dancing.

[baeshijima]

HEAD IN HANDS I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE

[allsortzofcrap]

i feel like for the rest of my life i will be walking around totally normal and then periodically, i will be absolutely brained with a metaphorical anvil falling off the side of a building that represents the absolute bafflement i have towards modern adaptations of sherlock holmes and their treatment of irene adler. bbc's most recent adaptation in particular.

im so sorry. please repeat. she was stupid u say??? and i'm sorry, IN LOVE with him u say??????

i'm a feminist so i think women are capable of being in love and also of being stupid. they can do anything they put their minds to ofc ❤️. but this is too far even for me.

it's just that i can't understand why you would choose to write a narrative that is more mysoginistic than the source material when the source material was written in 1891.

was it intentional? did they somehow not pick up on the implications? was it random?

i can't fathom it. it keeps me awake.

[hellsdogs]

Mishima Sen, the Interpersonal Intelligence, Emotional Intelligence. Sen excels in interpersonal intelligence, the ability to deeply understand the emotions and motivations of others. His empathy allows him to sense and even manipulate the feelings of those around him, making him exceptionally perceptive. It is what makes him a good artist but also a good listener, a good shoulder to cry on, a good company, a good conversationalist. He sees and understands, he reads people/ His weakness: Sen's deep emotional awareness, however leads to obsession and compulsiveness. Instead of focusing on his own emotional needs, he often suppresses them, choosing to delve into the emotional states of others. This makes him compulsively interested in other people’s feelings, to the point where he loses himself and risks dangerous over-involvement. His ability to manipulate emotions, although is not always intentional, but if he uses that on someone, it can lead to darker, obsessive behaviors where he bends others to his will or spirals into unhealthy relationships. The more he feeds this need, the more likely he becomes a threat, both to himself and others.

Ueno Junji, the logical-Mathematical Intelligence.

Junji is the logical-mathematical intelligence, excelling in critical thinking, problem-solving, and understanding complex systems like geopolitics and societal structures. His intellect enables him to analyze situations which makes him an effective journalist with the ability to unearth hidden truths. His weakness: Junji's weakness is his lack of self-awareness, particularly regarding his own intellectual limits. While he is undoubtedly smart, his confidence in his intelligence leads to arrogance. It blinds him to potential errors in judgment. His belief that he can outsmart others leads him to lead grand schemes—assuming he can maintain a facade as a reputable journalist while secretly engaging in criminal activities. Ultimately, his inability to accurately evaluate his intelligence will bein his downfall, as he overplays and gets caught.

Yamazaki Dai, the Intrapersonal Intelligence, Business and Strategic Intelligence. Dai’s intelligence lies in intrapersonal intelligence, which is the deep understanding of oneself combined with business intelligence. He is aware of his strengths and weaknesses and possesses the strategic mindset to run a large criminal organization as efficiently as a corporate empire. Dai can think long-term, weigh risks, and make calculated decisions, blending knowledge of finance, and law with his inherited sense of duty. His weakness: Despite his self-awareness, Dai is confined by responsibility. He gres up with an almost uncontrollable violent side that conflicted with his duties. He must constantly manage and suppress his primal instincts as he ages, to remain a composed leader his clan needs. This internal conflict creates tension within him, where his responsibilities prevent him from unleashing his true self, a more violent and impulsive person. If pushed too far, he could snap, endangering both his leadership and the stability of the Yamazaki Clan.

Kimura Taketa, the Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence, Street Smart. Kimura is the bodily-kinesthetic intelligence, where his physical abilities and survival instincts are highly developed. His street smarts enable him to navigate the criminal underworld with ease, relying on adaptability, quick thinking, and hands-on problem-solving. He understands how to survive in dangerous environments by leveraging his experience rather than academic knowledge that he couldn't have. His weakness : Kimura's life of pure violence and lack of emotional intelligence are his greatest weaknesses. While his bodily and practical intelligence allow him to survive, fight and rise, they come at the cost of empathy and emotional understanding. He is cold and detached, treating survival as a game of brutality. This detachment leaves him emotionally barren, incapable of forming meaningful connections or understanding the emotional consequences of his actions. His worldview is devoid of empathy, which isolates him from others and makes him dangerous in a way too.

[cemetary-shifts]

yesterday during the campaign, my character -fireballed the cleric (she was in the line of fire. it was a work-place danger. she failed 2 death saves but the wizard stabilized her so its fine) -got his teeth kicked out by the fighter (he was trying to persuade someone but his story got more and more farfetched as it went on and he just kept going) -got the cloak of billowing ??? as if my guy couldn't do that already -fell in a hole and got buried alive (two entirely separate events. both very much his fault)

[zorkaya-moved]

" you are always on about helping me," for someone whose voice usually comes in a subtle, warming tone, it has taken the turn for something more heated today as their debate, nay, argument had come to blossom as a result of long nights and dreadful projects. in the aftermath of the disagreement, kaveh will find himself in a pit of embarrassment and guilt for having stood his ground, but he couldn't accept it. he wouldn't accept it.

" to say that it's pride is only a portion of it, but i have never had to rely on anyone in my life --- i couldn't. there was simply no room for me to rely on anyone, let alone ask for it and --- that's why i can't stand by and simply allow you to help me, when you clearly do not wish me to help you in return. are we not equals ? do we not share a mutual form for respect, do you think less of me because you see yourself in a position to protect me and support me ? because i won't have you in such a position, zarina. "

it's not anger , per say , simply frustration. he is frustrated with how she puts up a mighty act of a stable, strong woman, for while she is ( archons know she is, she is so strong, and kaveh looks up to her in so many ways / had he been one for prayer, her feet would be the ones he'd find himself bowing to in seek of grace ) she remains as human as him at the end of the day. the pain and hurt he felt certainly were no strangers to her. does she not think he feels the way her face tends to drop the second he turns, or notice how her thoughts wander in the corner of his eyes when he find himself occupied by the desk ?

" let me look after you the way you look after me. let me take care of you the way you take care of me --- for it seems too long ago since anyone did the same for you. " crumbling in his stance ( is my love not enough for you ? ), the heated tone has come to falter in favor for a softer and honest one, as hands seek out to her cheeks, pleading to hold her tenderly in his grasp. " you are my life , zarina. how do you expect me to allow you to be my foundation when you refuse to accept it from me in return?"

@avaere

Their argument breaks out and nothing feels real for the first second. They’ve never argued like this before, it’s never come to this. It’s unusual for the architect to look at her like this and speak to her like this. It confuses her, it makes her wonder, and it makes her question exactly what brought this out. And the more words leave Kaveh’s mouth, the more confused and puzzled she becomes. It doesn’t make sense. It simply doesn’t make sense to her. Is he… not happy? Is he upset that she offers her support? Is he upset that she wants to keep him safe? It doesn’t seem logical nor does it seem like something he should be so frustrated over. The questions circle in her head and Zarina tries to search for an answer, but instead she’s met with a wall. She slams into it mentally as Kaveh keeps talking. 

—That's why I can't stand by and simply allow you to help me, when you clearly do not wish me to help you in return. Are we not equals?—

“We are…” Sokolova whispers to his question, still finding herself at a loss for words simply because she cannot fathom the reasoning for his upsetness, frustration, and fiery anger. It makes no sense for him to be hurt in her mind. 

 —Do we not share a mutual form for respect, do you think less of me because you see yourself in a position to protect me and support me?—

What are you talking about? Zarina asks internally, eyes empty and hollow at those words. Suddenly, his words echo in her head and she can’t find the will in herself to really suppress them. To her, everything he says right now simply doesn’t fit in her understanding. Is she not supposed to help him? Is this not proof of her love? Is this not enough for him to understand how much he means to her? Is this now what love is supposed to be about? 

Finally, Zarina isn’t weak to keep those she loves unprotected. She gained everything she needed to keep these important people safe. She has power, she has influence, she has money, she has it all. She has information on each and every important person in almost all of Teyvat. She has customers and clients who are of noble birth and who would beg for her to take a look at their cases. She has it all to ensure those she loves have a comfortable life. 

Because she, a woman who lacks any humanity behind her void gaze, can only feel human while being with them. They keep her a person. They keep her away from the numbness, void and hollowness. They keep her away from losing the joys and colors. They are her colors. Kaveh is her Sun and the person she wants to keep happy the most. 

But… 

—Because I won't have you in such a position, Zarina.—

…I’m strong enough to be in that position, am I not? Why don’t you just let me do it?  

She isn't weak. She isn’t weak anymore to have others fuss over her. She doesn’t have anyone to worry over her and try to keep her from harm’s way. Now she can take care of herself, she can protect others like she always wanted. There won’t be laughs of men cruelly kicking her and calling her a little princess, there won’t be Victor hurt while trying to protect her, there won’t be Aleksey who they fret over as her parents are gone, and there won’t be any other people they’d be indebted to who can use them for their own ridiculous schemes. 

No, she’s climbing to the top and it means she won’t have anyone look at her or her family the wrong way. She can tear apart anyone who dares to mistreat her or her family. She has everything to keep herself occupied, interested, away from the deafening silence and frigidness. 

Ah, but that’s not it. That’s not what Kaveh says and that’s where the dissonance happens. Her past clashes against her present.  

Why do you look at me like Victor did? I’m stronger now. I can protect you. I won’t be hurt anymore. There’s no need to worry, no need to try and protect me, I’m fine. I’m…

—Let me take care of you the way you take care of me --- for it seems too long ago since anyone did the same for you.—

His tone crumbles and she can see him reaching out. After all, she had no second to input any of her words into this conversation. His stream of words hit her a bit harder than she’d ever expected. It makes her confused, all too confused and lost.  

This means that she hasn't been successful or what does it mean? It makes her think of Victor who’s been trying to take care of her when she was rescued. It makes her think of how when she came to Sumeru, she was looked down on by Scholars and those who were against Snezhnaya. Now they love or hate her, seeking her out despite pride and prejudice because they know she’s stronger. Isn’t it fun to see those people crawl to her? 

It makes her think of her selfishness, her indulgence, her sick satisfaction with reaching the top and watching people who underestimated her crumble before her feet. But then it all dissipates, she’s grown bored and sought out more. Like a ravenous beast in the body of a beauty. All hedonistic indulgences fade with time aside from sex and planning. The long-standing plans hold her interest for a little while longer until she’s left disappointed or satisfied for a medium period of time. It all fades, but not the warmth she feels when she’s with those she loves. Not with Victor, Aleksey, Kaveh… Not with them. Not with him. 

Oh, but Kaveh reaching out to her both emotionally and physically almost makes her feel fear. Almost, if not for her control over the internal state. It’s a titanium hold, but when his hands touch her cheeks, Sokolova feels something inside start to crack. The whispers in her mind say over and over again how he’d find her revolting, tyrannical, and cruel. He doesn’t know how little care for the world and its riches she has. 

She’s always lived selfishly, so giving to her loved ones feels like what she can do. After acquiring everything because her selfish self wanted to see how far she’d be able to reach, this development seems to be… baffling. 

His touch and his last words bring her out of that stupor. Still, confused and puzzled over these confessions within the argument, she feels at a loss. Emotions aren’t her strongest forte. Nay, genuine emotions aren’t her strongest forte. Zarina knows how to use them, manipulate them, and twirls them for her own benefit, but right now? It’s not about manipulation and malice. It’s not about shadows and darkness. It’s not about survival. It’s about… love, trust, and communication. 

Everything she wanted to protect since childhood yet never surrounded herself with until return home or when Kaveh was by her side. 

“What do you mean you don’t help me with anything?” She suddenly asks, her voice coming out genuinely puzzled but her eyes… Her eyes are bleak and cloudy, no, they’re hollow and empty when she begins. His hands against her cheeks feel so hot, her own body feels so cold. Is it because of her vision or is it because she remembered everything from that past? She doesn’t understand him, or does he not get the amount of things he does for her without knowing? “You always do. You’re the only one here who does.”

No one in Sumeru matters. No one in several regions matters aside from Snezhnaya where her brothers stay. Kaveh doesn’t know. He doesn’t know the ‘survival of the fittest’ rule she lives by, rules by, orders by. 

Zarina brings her left hand up, touching his hand but she doesn’t yet grasp it. Her fingertips grave over the fabric covering his wrist. She worries that if she grasps it, she’ll break it. Zarina recalls her first hunt in the snowy plains of Snezhnaya. She doesn’t want to break him.

“You make the nightmares go away. You make me feel safer than I’ve ever felt since…” The agonizing pain, the loud screams, the laughter of those who had control. “...since I was hurt,” Sokolova looks away for a moment, her words feel like they’re spilling out as if in desperation to get him to hear, to understand, to give him enough to have an idea but not dive into details (not yet). “You indulge me, you give me your time. There’s no silence, no hollowness, no void. You make me feel…”

Clarity returns to her golden eyes. The silverette takes a second to breathe, finally letting her fingers wrap around his wrist (tenderly, carefully). Her shoulders drop, her expression is one of light exhaustion and still flickers of bewilderment. 

“You make me feel human.”

It must be so strange to hear, isn’t it? To feel human. Isn’t she almost the most beloved in all Sumeru for her scholarly achievements, for her charismatic nature, for her connections and for her being the strongest candidate for the Amurta Sage? And yet, Zarina knows better than anyone that those achievements are not done for the sake of gratitude or betterment of the world. It’s selfish, it’s ambitious, it’s all out of boredom and pettiness. 

“You never ask for anything. I have power, I have money, I have connections, I have it all, but you never ask for anything,” she starts off. “You are my equal, if you were not…” She lets out a soft chuckle, but it’s sharp and cold. “...I wouldn’t fall for you, love you, treasure you, want to give you as much as I can. If you were not my equal, you’d be lost in the sea of faces I meet.” 

Golden eyes return to look at him, but she doesn’t smile nor show any emotion. If anything, she’s stone cold, but not guarded. She doesn’t hide, but there’s no bright light in her gaze and in her behavior.

“Do you… really think that I’ve reached all of what I have today through honored and honest work, Kaveh?” She gives his hand a gentle squeeze, but her golden eyes are growing colder the more she thinks about what she’s done… and how she feels no guilt or remorse or regret over everything. The people’s screams, the Abyssals’ pleas for mercy, the blood, the merciless ends, the survival. “Do you really think that I don’t see you as my equal? If I didn’t care about you or saw you as my equal, you would’ve never even gotten a glimpse of who I am. Like everyone else in Teyvat.”

A hard hitting sentence, isn’t it? Especially said with that razor-sharp gaze and a voice that got deeper as if she growled it out. But instead of showing the same cold-hearted ferocity, she presses her lips together and looks away from him as if ashamed. It’s not that she’s ashamed of who she is, but she is unsure of how much more she can say. 

“I… don’t know how to let others care for me,” she admits. “I don’t know how to stop protecting who I care about. And I don’t think… You’ll look at me the same if you learned the things I have to do to survive…” But also because when you’re not here, the boredom and silence come back in full force and I return to those frigid days. “What if the person you love is only kind to you, Kaveh? Will you hate me for it?” 

There’s a glimpse of cracks, of a weight no one ever expects someone to carry. But she doesn’t mind that. If it means she’s indulged and her family is protected, it means nothing. Is she really human when she does not feel any remorse for all the things she’s done? Perhaps, the only remorse and sadness comes when it comes to Kaveh. What if he fell in love with a phantom? What if her sharper and crueler sides will scare him away? There’s no fixing that. It’s simply who she is. 

“I don’t understand you.” Her lips are pressed together in frustration. “I don’t understand what you mean by taking care of me more than you already do. I don’t understand what you want from me right now. All these riches, all these connections, all of what I have… They are nothing compared to what you’ve given me. You taught me that I can love, I can experience love, I can feel it.” She brings her other hand up to touch his, but then pries his hands away from her face to hold them instead. “And yes, it doesn’t make the world better and it doesn’t make colors seem brighter, but it settles me down. It makes me… think that a normal life isn’t out of the question for me.”

 Then, Zarina laughs. But it’s hollow and bitter and feels like shattering. 

“To accept your help, I must give up control… of everything I am. And if I do,” she lets out a soft exhale. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to pick myself up if you reject me.” 

Finally, she smiles but that smile is soft and careful. Not sharp, not hollow, not cold. It’s more familiar to him. It’s more genuine, it’s as genuine as she can muster when her mind remembers everything she does behind his back to remain on top. She cannot simply end everything she rules over, it’s already too late. Too many people want her head, too many people rely on her, too many people have their eyes on her, too many people wait for her word like their only prayer.

“You are my lifeline, Kaveh. You already give me so much, I want to…” She gives his hands a squeeze, gaining up courage to say the next words. He’s more important to her than everything she’s acquired. She’s lived her life selfishly already. “But alright. I don’t yet understand, and that’s why… Can you teach me… how to let you care for me in a way you meant?” Without this iron control over everything. As she holds his hands in her own, she bends down to press her forehead against his knuckles. A beast offering its leash to another, she hopes he won’t turn away the more she opens up. “But please, I’m begging you, give me time to tell you everything. My life belongs to you, you are my heart. I still don’t understand, I probably will struggle, but be my guide here. So please,” she straightens up and gives him another small smile. She’s trying. It’s obvious. She’s trying against everything she’s been taught by life, by experience, by struggle and torturous existence. But for him? She’s trying. It’s tense, but she’s trying. “Be a patient teacher with me. I’ve never… been protected… and I haven’t been cared for since my childhood.”

[isekyaaa]

I really want more non-villain male characters that rank really high in emotional intelligence and use it to their advantage. I want men that know the ins and outs of how people work and tailor themselves and how they act to get the desired reactions and results out of them. I want men that can turn angels out of demons and make even the bitchiest of Karens worship the ground they walk on. But I don't want them to do these things to achieve lofty goals. I just want them to act this way because that's just how they naturally are.

[mw00nie]

you always knew you had a thing for older men.

It wasn’t just the salt-and-pepper stubble or the slow, practiced way they carried themselves. it was the stillness. the grounded energy. the calm. like nothing could touch them. like they’d been through hell and came back clean, sharper for it.

nanami kento was the embodiment of that.

you weren’t supposed to end up in his bed. it started with drinks after a shared mission, a conversation that lingered longer than expected. you were tipsy. he wasn’t. and yet he watched you like you were a puzzle worth solving. carefully, patiently, without a single wasted glance.

you’d had sex before. enough to know what you liked. enough to know that most guys your age didn’t really care about what that was. they rushed. they fumbled. Some were sweet, but rarely satisfying. even the slightly older ones, 25, 26, still had the attention span of a squirrel and the emotional intelligence of a wet sock.

but nanami?

nanami touched you like he’d studied you. like he had time. like he didn’t need to prove anything because he already knew he could ruin you. and would. he took off your clothes like unwrapping a gift he’d waited patiently to open. every touch was intentional. every kiss a quiet promise.

you thought you were prepared.

you weren’t.

his mouth on your neck, your chest, between your legs. devastating. the kind of slow burn that made you forget your name, arching into him with a gasp so raw you almost felt embarrassed. until you looked up and saw the way he was watching you. focused. like he needed to see what he did to you..

you expected him to be good. he was older, refined, deliberate in everything he did. from the way he sipped his whiskey to the way he looked at you, like he could read every need you hadn’t voiced. But this?

this was beyond anything your imagination had dared to stretch toward.

you're on your back, legs spread and trembling over Nanami’s shoulders, body pinned to the mattress like you were meant to be there. like he built this exact moment out of patience and control and years of knowing exactly what he was doing.

his cock stretches you open with a slow, thick thrust that makes your spine arch off the bed. he’s not fast. not frantic. he moves like a man who knows he doesn’t have to rush, because you’re already falling apart under him.

“good girl,” he murmurs, voice low and steady, as if he’s rewarding you for every helpless sound you make. “you can take it. i’ve got you.”

and you do. you take him. inch by devastating inch. because you can’t not. he fills you in a way no one else ever has. deep. heavy. the kind of depth that forces a raw, gasping whine from your throat with every stroke.

your nails claw weakly at his forearms, the only parts of him you can reach in this position. he’s got you folded open, helpless, a mess of sweat and slick and trembling limbs beneath him. his hips grind slow, controlled, like he’s studying how each angle wrecks you.

“too much?” he asks, and it’s maddening how composed he sounds while you’re unraveling like silk in his hands.

you try to answer, but nothing comes out but a high-pitched, wrecked little moan. your head tilts back. eyes flutter shut. brain static.

he leans in closer, the weight of him pressing into you deliciously, lips grazing your jaw. “words, sweetheart.”

you manage a shaky, whined: “don’t stop. please. don’t stop.”

his lips curve into the faintest smirk against your cheek, and suddenly his thrusts get deeper. not harder. not faster. just…more intentional. perfectly timed to make you feel every ridge, every drag of him against that sensitive spot inside you that makes your thighs shake.

your vision goes blurry. your mouth drops open in a silent gasp. And then it happens: Your brain short-circuits.

everything goes white-hot, your body locking around him with a desperate cry you barely hear. your climax rips through you with a sharp, clenching heat that leaves you breathless and boneless, twitching beneath him as he fucks you through it with devastating care.

“beautiful,” he breathes, watching you crumble.

you’re too far gone to even feel embarrassed at how wrecked you sound. you’re crying a little overstimulated, completely taken, the term “fucked dumb” no longer a meme, but a diagnosis.

he slows down. pulls out just enough to let you breathe, but not leave. his hands slide down your thighs, soothing, grounding.

and then, without warning, he’s back inside you. slower this time. softer. but it still hurts, in the way pleasure hurts when you’ve already come once and your nerves are still singing. you whimper, and he kisses your shoulder.

“i know, i know,” he whispers. “just one more. you can do one more.”

you don't know if you're nodding or crying, but it doesn’t matter. he keeps praising you, guiding you back to that high again with practiced care and relentless control. and when you finally collapse beneath him, thighs shaking, tears wet on your cheeks, he kisses you like you’re something fragile he’s honored to break.

he doesn’t leave right after.

he wraps you in a warm, damp towel and carries you to the bath. cleans you gently. makes you tea. sits beside you as your body catches up with your soul.

and when he says, “you’re safe,” you believe him.

and you realized then: you’d never be able to go back.

how could you? to twenty-something-year-old men who needed validation, who didn’t know what to do with a woman who needed to be held, not just touched? who didn’t understand the ache that came from deeper wounds. wounds that wanted comfort, not conquest?

nanami wasn’t just good in bed.

he understood. he moved with restraint, with precision. the kind of man who didn’t need to be loud to leave a mark.

you looked up at him. his calm, unreadable expression softened only by the way his thumb brushed over your hip. and it hit you:

you weren’t just ruined for boys.

you were recalibrated.

no one else would ever compare.

[jasnstilnski]

i think im happy w these stats. maybe

[garden0fyves]

thinking about... d1 athlete!toji who can't believe he has such a beautiful and intelligent girlfriend.

toji worships the ground you walk on. you're so fucking perfect, from the way you support his career to the way you stay up late waiting for him to return from away games. you've met him at the airport many times, all bright eyed and holding flowers for him. people have posted about the two of you so many times, saying just how well you treat each other. you’re the epitome of couple goals even if you do spend a decent amount of time explaining to your boyfriend that you’re here for him. always.

toji refuses to let you go. he's heard the horror stories of wag's being impatient with their partners or cheating on them because of feelings of neglect. you're the most patient person he's ever met, and he's the most impatient person you've ever met. you're patient because you grew up that way, toji's impatient because he's never had enough time. so, you allow him to be. toji knows how incredibly lucky he is because not only are you beautiful, patient, and possibly the best thing to happen to him, but you're damn near a genius. you made the president's list last year and are aiming to continue your streak this year.

toji's reminded how lucky he is when he makes eye contact with you after scoring. when he's running to the sideline to press a kiss to your lips, green eyes alight with mischief and adrenaline from running down the field. he's also reminded when he comes back from a rough game with grit teeth and unshed tears of anger in his eyes. toji's never believed in showing his emotions so openly, but when you press a kiss to his cheek and relay every single thing he did right to to him it's hard not to cry.

you're perfect. and he doesn't mean this because you're his girlfriend, his first real one since he was an asshole in high school.

if it makes toji feel better, you think he’s also perfect. you struggled with relationships in high school because you felt like you weren’t seen beyond your intelligence. everyone wanted to be seen with you for the purpose of having a popular girlfriend, never for your personality or your heart. you were sweet in high school, don’t get me wrong. but you were a party favor to them, a trophy of sorts. toji's the first to make you feel seen and valued.

it was so surprising when you met toji in your intro to psych lecture. he sat beside you, all big and muscly barely fitting in the desk. he didn’t speak much at first, but as the assignments grew harder he needed help to pass and continue playing. so, he made friends with you. toji wouldn’t lie, he originally started talking to you because he thought you were hot. he knew you wouldn’t fuck him immediately and he wasn’t in the mood to play the long game. so for the first time in his life he tried to make an actual friend. it was a random decision to him, but this ended up meaning so much more to you.

you had no idea who toji was. as far as you knew, he was a random gym rat that was majoring in something like kinesiology (ouch) to get by and become a coach. while his major was kinesiology, toji and everyone around him knew he was going to the league after graduation. this wouldn’t matter in the long run. he’s here to play ball, but if he learns then he learns. and somehow, after knowing you for a year, toji finds himself wanting to learn.

you've made him smarter while he shows you that you're loved. your heart feels so full when you leave class to see toji lingering outside of the door. your heart warms when he abandons his teammates to catch up to you with a little smile on his lips. he always presses a kiss to your temple, asking how your lecture went or how your day was. toji makes time for you no matter what he has going on, and that's why you feel so valued by him. he's so busy as a football player. he has to deal with the media, practice, games, and even maintaining the image for your school. but still, at the end of the day, he returns to your apartment to keep you company while you study.

at the end of the day, he'll always be relived knowing he's coming home to you. he'll watch you with all of your books sprawled on the floor, glasses on and hair barely pulled back. he'll always come home because you are home. you've changed his life in just a year, and he wouldn't have it any other way. to everyone on campus toji's some sort of myth. the demon on their football team that racks up insane stats.

but to you, he's just your lover.

[reiyaus]

fem reader intended

fiancé gojo who shocked the jujutsu higher ups when he revealed his engagement to you, a grade 1 sorceress with no relation to any big 3 clans. imagine their surprise when he decides to get married out of love and not just to create a heir.

fiancé gojo who teaches with you at jujutsu high and is the reason why you can barely arrive to classes on time. with his pouty face and insanely toned biceps trapping you in his hold, who are you to say no?

fiancé gojo who whines when you actually leave him to teach your students, feigning offence when megumi shoots him a disgusted glare.

fiancé gojo who often joins in on your lessons when he starts feeling lonely, acting as if he were your actual student. your annoyingly smart A+ student who does nothing but brag about his intelligence.

fiancé gojo who likes to text you and send silly voice messages no matter the situation. picture satoru replaying his minute-long burp vm in front of the jujutsu higher ups so that he makes sure you can laugh at it (spoiler: all you feel is disappointment).

fiancé gojo who thinks it’s absolutely hilarious to flaunt his engagement and watch the irritation on their faces turn into pure horror. because for gojo, flaunting means interrupting you mid-sentence to practically make out for a minute straight.

fiancé gojo who asks everyday, “should we have our wedding now?” and sighs dramatically when you tell him to be patient. not that he’s actually mad, though. he likes the giddyness he feels while counting down to your wedding date.

fiancé gojo who drowns you in affection and praise after every mission, crying his heart out (jokingly) about how he felt like an abandoned princess waiting for her prince to come back from war.

fiancé gojo who, deep down, thanks the skies above that you get to come home safely everytime. and while he’s a jokester, all the ‘missing you’ parts in his sob stories were true. because while he knew you were strong, the lingering worry of you running into something way stronger bit his ass everytime.

fiancé gojo who indulges himself in your warmth, ignoring every single notification his phone pings out.

fiancé gojo who has a hold on you so secure, even during sleep, that you have to wake him up before he presses on your bladder any further. now you have to deal with his complaints of “do you not love me anymore? Is that why you let go? you’re so mean!”

fiancé gojo who shuts up when you offer to wash his greasy hair, immediately situating himself in front of you and leaning into every single touch you place on his head.

fiancé gojo who ends up getting you wet and makes a stupid excuse so that you can bathe together. no matter how difficult, the feeling of your skin against his was enough to get him through the day.

fiancé gojo who settles your back on his chest, lifting your arm to trace “satoru 🤍 [name] 4eva”. what a cutie.

fiancé gojo who genuinely can’t wait until he sees you walk down the aisle, exchange the vows he’s been working on since you first met, shamelessly give you the most passionate kiss ever (in front everyone you know and love), and officially get the privilege of calling you his wifey.

[webism]

Hiromi Higuruma + accidentally saying ‘i love you’ during sex.

For Hiromi, letting down his guard is a dangerous thing. He’s an intelligent man who has to walk on eggshells with almost everything he does—being vulnerable isn’t his thing.

Except, of course, when he’s balls deep inside of you. You’re a reprieve, a statute of pleasure that he can’t help but over-indulge in. You’re so warm and tight and perfect wrapped around his pulsing cock and he’s so cumdrunk that lust starts to feel like something a whole lot more serious.

You’re on top tonight, helping the poor man destress after a particularly long day. His hands are cramping from hoee tight they’ve been gripping your hips, and he’s so lost in pleasure that he can’t remember if he’s trying to slow down your ride on his cock or guide you to orgasm even quicker.

What he does know, though, is that you’re breaking his damn mind. He can’t form a coherent fucking thought, not when you lift yourself up to eagerly just to drop back down on his cock. The sound of skin hitting skin and your breath hitching with each tiny bit deeper he manages to reach inside of you.

He looks a mess, eyes heavy and lips parted and hair strewn all over the place. He’s not even out of his suit—you just hooked him out of his pants because you were so fucking eager to take his cock to the base that you had no time nor care to undress him.

He loves it, how needy you get for him. He loves how good you feel on his cock. He loves the look on your face as you try and match your orgasm to his. He knows he’s close, and he loves the way you encourage him with a quickened pace and the prettiest of praise spilling from your lips.

“I love you, I fucking love you,” his hips jerk upwards as he cums—your own climax matching his in time and intensity. “I love you I love you IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.”

You aren’t so sure if he means it, because for a solid few seconds as he lowers his head back against the pillow and returns from the high of his climax, he doesn’t register his own words. He’s mindless, senseless, speaking without thought or reason.

But you watch his pretty eyes widen, and his kiss-swollen lips part in surprise at himself. And before he can apologise, or try to take his words back, you shut him up with a kiss and affirm his thoughts in the same breath.

Yeah. He loves you.

17 days of disco promptlist

[theepitomeofamess]

this season is truly giving us the characters of all time & the players at their best. like:

intelligence-based emily character?? already deadly. she was once the spitfire of the crew but now she's haunted, hollow, vengeful? she might be a revenant bc you can't convince me marya wouldn't live & die by "captain goes down with the ship"? she crashes into a wasp just so she can personally shoot their engine out? she has a pet rat with a mech suit that's more than ready to beat the shit out of intruders? she runs a toy shop with her aunt zuzu? inspired.

nepo baby child of true libertarians beardsley character? & a rogue at that? already getting flashbacks to liam wilhelmina. on top of that she's a trans fangirl that her grandma knew would need to be protected at all costs? you can tell she's imagining herself on an adventure with monty when she's lassoing the pheasants, that "easy girl" is a direct quote. they're at the height of their power.

lou pulling out a ranger, i think the first wisdom-based character of his since kingston brown. he's a bestselling author, he's an environmental advocate, his voice is quiet (very close to lou's eursulon voice imo), he hangs off the side of a ship to riddle the deck with bullets, he's silent when he marks his quarry and kills without hesitation. he pulled his tooth out to give it to a boar. my god he's perfect.

siobhan "i don't think i have any beefy characters" thompson rolling up with a fighter, born into & bred for sailing, fighting, and giving orders. she's never heard of sunscreen, she's the crew's hardass mom, she'll go down before she lets anyone touch marya, she greets adrenaline & blood with the same fondness as her cinnamon roll of a husband. she will protect her family at all costs. immaculate.

zac. fucking. oyama. the old southern man of all time. he's wanted, by the law and by many others. he's divorced. he lived with a pack of coyotes to cope with the heartbreak. he swore to protect your family where you couldn't. he's a gunslinger. his best friend is a labrador that's been called "ghost dog" since he was a puppy 38 years ago. his guns are called "biscuits" & "gravy". you can see some of his greatest hits coming together to form a new fan favorite. brennan WILL fuck that old man before the season ends.

don't even get me started on whatever the fuck Maxwell Gotch has going on. murph, who just wants to be a good good boy and punch bad guys, once again putting himself on the front lines. he's out & proud at college but closeted at home, he loves his grandfather, he's reclaiming "rowdy", he only removes his gloves by biting them. he wakes up every day at 5am to do a thousand squats. he gets bloodlust so potent he damn near kills himself in the process of killing three other dudes, and vomits when he comes down from the high & realizes what just happened. he made dawderdale orgasm just by talking to her. murph's dice have been waiting for this moment. he's pompous, he's violent, we all know he's queer, & he's already my favorite of the season so far.

plus, the npc's? adding wealwell to the long tradition of needing a gilear or alphonse the mule? and you can't convince me that bert isn't going to be the obscenely magic old man this season he's gonna pull a sawed off shotgun out of his aioli or something he's the plug strut of the season i'm calling it.

this season is already so immaculate i am losing my mind

[cleolinda]

I am not the first person to attempt explaining this, but let me tell you about some of the nuances of Bless Your Heart™. It does not solely or even usually translate to “you are a dumbass.” It is more subtle than that:

It is primarily a thing you say to clarify (or falsify) the tone of what you DID say

OR

it is secondarily a thing you say instead of something ELSE to maintain 1) plausible deniability 2) a moral high ground.

“Bless your heart”: You genuinely deserve blessings because you are going through it right now and you need them. Gratitude, sympathy. “I’m going to have surgery next week.” “Bless your heart! Is there anything I can do for you?” (“Oh, bless your heart for asking.”) Original face-value meaning.

“Bless your heart”: You need a blessing because God knows you’re lacking (manners, intelligence, common sense) right now. Synonyms could include “Well, isn’t that precious” or “Well, that’s different.” It often comes in clutch when you don’t want to tell someone to their face that they fucked up. Your nephew has mowed the front yard for you. He has also mowed over all your flower beds. “Well… bless your heart.” If you were going to use it as a stealth insult to someone’s face for a more egregious occasion, it would be this category. It can be a mean girl move (the classic “It’s so brave that you dress like that” vibe), but it’s also a way of saying, “I want you to know that I see what you’re doing and I don’t approve of it, and you fully understand I’m expressing that, but I’m not going to give you the justification to clap back at me because I didn’t SAY that.” Someone wears a fancy white bridal-looking gown to your cousin’s wedding: “Well, bless your heart, that sure is a dress!” (If they understand you: “What’s THAT supposed to mean?” Because they know, but they want to make you SAY it. Combat engaged.)

“Bless their heart”: I am sharing news (gossiping) about someone but I like them and I want you to understand that I do, truly, bless their heart. “It’s been so hard for her after her father passed. Bless her heart, I’m gonna make her that red velvet cake she likes.”

“Bless their heart”: I am shit talking someone and I want to cover my ass, of COURSE I am just concerned for them. “She wore white to her sister’s wedding last week! WHITE! Bless her heart, I guess some people’s children just don’t know better.” (“Well you know they say she was always after the groom—“ “NO! Bless her heart.”)

That last one is the BYH they would need to deploy (but didn’t) in the Make Some Noise clip, but I feel like it honestly wasn’t necessary because the “prayer request” already served as a cover for talking shit. It probably would have come out if they’d been allowed to keep the skit going and they needed plausible deniability for spilling juicier details that maybe Jesus didn’t actually need to hear about. Thank you for coming to my Performing Southernness While Being Neurodivergent talk.