#This just shows that nothing is black and white

[arminsumi]

It's no wonder you like him; 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 just has that somethingness about him.

Chipped black nails. A murmuring voice that immediately gains your attention — oh, who are you? He has to smirk to himself, watching how you bat your lashes at him, not knowing that he's just going to reject you like he's rejected every other girl. But oh, honestly, he's just fooling himself. From the moment he meets you, Suguru knows he's screwed. Yes, deep down inside, he knows it immediately.

He's screwed because he bothered himself with you — to ask you about yourself, to ask you for your number. Oh really? You like this? You like that? Tell me more.

The natural sultriness that Suguru radiates has you — what word did he use? Salivating. That's what he wants; for you to salivate for him like he salivates for you.

For the first few months that you know Suguru, it feels like you just can't catch him — because he's always drifting off with his best friend, or doing his own thing.

But really, Suguru's just relishing in the sight of you chasing after him, loving how you follow him like he's your cult leader.

It does something to him.

What works him up even more is when he sees how you you crane your neck to look up at him. He thinks for a moment about crashing his lips down on yours. If only you knew how much discipline he had, how he was restraining himself around you.

Is it only his sultriness that draws people into him? Or is it also that can't be bothered attitude that he wears like a jacket? What else? Well, he's eloquent. He's interesting. Bilingual. Jet black hair up in a tight bun — bangs and strands falling loosely over his face to show that loose part of his personality. Sharp eyes made less intimidating by the babyish cheeks and slightly dipping nose; two features that he has forever wished he could change about himself. Gauge earrings that catch everyone's eye. Always well-dressed. A slight show-off — oh of course, he just has to give you a mouth-watering glimpse of his martial artist physique every now and then, loving how you pretend that you're not trying to get another peek at all the muscles under his baggy white shirt. He's a tease. Something else that Suguru loves teasing you with is how he spreads his legs outrageously wide open whenever he's sitting.

Your comment on his height still lingers in his mind to this day; it's because of this comment and the sore awareness of how much bigger he is than you, that he gradually develops this I'm not too tall to be kissed slouch.

But nothing excites him more than seeing you at a loud party; the overpowering music is his excuse to come super close to your cheek to speak. The slightest grazing across your skin gets him going.

And in the moment he sees something spark in you, he slouches, bends his knees, and presses a nasty little kiss on your lips. It's wet and warm. He tastes your mouth, closes his eyes, sinks into this abyssal ecstasy, and hums in pleasure at the feeling of your tongue slipping in. His bangs rest against your cheek, his chest gets hotter, but then he deliberately pulls away when you whimper.

Just to frustrate you.

"Sorry, you look so good tonight, couldn't help myself." he excuses, acting cool as if he's not holding back from devouring you, as if he's not licking his lips and rubbing them together. "What, do you want more? Well, why don't you climb up here and give me more?"

[spencahreadreid]

Anyone else but you

fluffy, night in with spencer, he's absolutely SMITTEN with you. no y/n, no gender specifics! (i imagine spencer in the gif attached but any is fine)

Face to face in bed, his hand on your cheek, caressing the smooth skin, eyes wandering over your face as if you were a piece of Roman art. The short glances, smiles, were nothing compared to the way his clear admiration in this form made you feel.

Spencer could feel the warmth of your cheek in his hand, a pink blush covering both of them when his thumb brushes just below your bottom lip. Stifling a laugh, he takes his hand away, slotting it under his own head, between him and the pillow.

"You look beautiful tonight, sweetie.." the tone is doting and warm, as always. He couldn't take his brown doe eyes away from you. From any of you.

If his eyes left your face they would slowly trace down your exposed neck, collarbone, the shirt you wore for bed. Or they would travel up, your messy hair, the way it splayed out against the pillow so elegantly, as if you were painted by Da Vinci. Maybe they'd go both ways, up and then down.

You were silent, but the smile that mirrored his, suddenly plastered on your face after his small but meaningful compliment showed him your appreciation enough. Sometimes you two wouldn't talk, instead, bodies tangled, taking each other in.

Comforted by the sheets, covering both of you, the small gap between you making it dip. Spencer had chosen them when you first moved in together, he knew you loved the stars, and how much you hated white sheets. Stains would show too easily, of course he agreed. So black sheets, it had to be, adorned with small illustrated sparkles, stars and one image of the moon in the top right corner.

They fit you perfectly, that's what he thought at least, as if all of his thoughts were never about you. They were.

He would never admit it, but you knew, maybe you had never known love before him. Maybe you were delusional, reading into the delicate man's looks far too much, constantly reminding yourself: 'hes the profiler here, not me!'. But it was so clear, so obvious in everything he did. Anything he brought home; flowers, jewelry, clothes, usually just a small pastry from down the road.

Every. Single. Last. Gift. Every interaction, already planned out in his head, he knows what you like, what you want, what makes you happy. He feels as though he's made for it, put on this earth just to make you feel good, feel safe.

You wouldn't have it any other way, neither would Spencer. Even when he came home to music he'd never listen to if he was alone, allowing you to take 'selfies' with him although he hates modern technology.

Then of course, letting you hold his hand, even when it's safer to kiss. But you do both anyway, so why does that matter?

[rosemariiaa]

~Casual~

pairing: Paige x Oc

a/n: i need to fix my posting schedule lol.. this is my first collab fic with the lovely karly @makethemhoesmad , part 2 will be on her page!! happy reading lovelies 💌

themes: angst, sexual content, language

Enjoy!!!

I was in the locker room, mind all over the place. Honestly, I hadn’t been this unfocused in ages. And it wasn’t just me who noticed—KK and Azzi were side-eyeing me from across the room, probably wondering why I’d been so out of it. Then I heard Ice laugh under her breath and mutter, “Paige, you’re so pussy whipped.”

It was brutal, but she wasn’t wrong.

The buzz in my pocket had me scrambling. A message from Vanessa.

We’d been “hooking up” for the past few months—nothing serious, just something casual, atleast that’s what she tends to remind me about all the time. That’s how it started, anyway. But for me, it felt like it was turning into something more, whether I wanted it to or not.

V: u busy? come over?

I didn’t even hesitate, typing back a quick, On my way.

———

I was out of there in record time, showered and changed, and at Vanessa’s place within twenty minutes flat. My heart was already racing when she opened the door, leaning against the frame in my shirt and black panties. Damn.

She didn’t waste a second, pulling me inside by the collar and crashing her mouth against mine. All the frustration, the waiting—it was all there. In moments like this, it was easy to forget that she kept me at arm’s length, that I wanted more than just a physical connection. But when she had me like this, I didn’t even care.

“Missed you, V,” I murmured against her lips, hands trailing down her waist, then down further gripping her ass.

She smirked, threading her fingers through my hair as she leaned back, her breath hitching. “Shut up and show me.”

Her lips found mine again, urgent. I let her hands slide down my back, pulling me closer as I trailed kisses along her neck, whispering, “You have no idea how much you’ve been messing with me.”

Vanessa let out a quiet laugh, breathless, leaning into my touch. “Paige, you think too much,” she murmured, tipping her head back sighing. “Can’t help it,” I whispered, grazing my teeth against her collarbone before meeting her gaze, something hungry in her eyes. I tightened my grip, keeping her close, practically pinning her to the wall. “You make it impossible to focus baby.”

Her only response was to pull me back into a kiss, sliding her warm tongue to meddle with mine. I moan softly into the kiss, lifting her up and carrying her to the couch. She sank down, tugging me with her, eyes dark and inviting. I know that look. That look she gives me when she wants me to shut up and take her.

I lean down, pulling her shirt up realizing she’s not wearing a bra. Fuck. I take a moment to admire her perky tots and her pink hardened nipples, she shakes them a little signaling me to move closer. I move closer wrapping my lips around her nipple while sliding my hand up from her stomach to her other breast. I swirl my tongue around it making her shudder and sigh as she moves her hand into my hair. “Mmm..more.” she pleads.

I move my mouth from her breasts, looking up at her as i trail open mouthed kisses down the valley of her tits, down to her stomach, until i reach her very dampen panties. She bucks her hips up, the look in her eyes telling me to dive straight in and eat her like my last meal. I run my two middle fingers up and down her clothed pussy. “Paige..stop teasing.” she says, knuckles turning white as she grips the couch.

I oblige, sliding her panties off and taking in her glistening core. I press my palm against her clit. “God, Paige,” she breathes, trying to grind against it. I run my middle finger up and down her wet folds as she bites her lip hard enough to draw blood. “Mmm fuck ma, who got you this wet? I smirk, clearly enjoying the effect I have on her, and I lean in closer, “Y-you baby please..inside.” She pleads.

I slip one finger in. “This good?” I ask, knowing damn well it’s not. Vanessa shakes her head and I smirk, sliding in another, slow and steady, listening to how wet she is and how beautiful she moans. I could listen to that shit on repeat.

“Still not enough ma?” I murmur, cocky as hell, adding a third without waiting for her answer. A gasp slipping out before she can stop it. “Fuck!” she yells. I keep my eyes trained on her, curling my fingers just right , just the way I know she likes.

I lean in , my breath warm against her ear. "Yeah, thought so," I whisper.

My grip on her waist tightens as she arches her back up moaning, watching her struggle to keep up with the pace as I fuck her faster. "Daddy..." a soft moan in my ear.

My eyes flash, and I raise an eyebrow, "say it again," she brings her hand down to her clit rubbing it in tight slow circles, moaning at the sound of my fingers going in and out her dripping pussy. I’m so wet right now. "Fuck daddy..mmph feels so good please faster." My fingers push deeper, stretching out her tight hole with each thrust, slow at first, but quickly picking up speed as I watch her fall apart.

"Yeah, just like that baby." My voice dark, commanding, and I can see her barely keeping her balance, her body moving faster, desperate for every bit I’m giving her. My hand slides up to her neck, making her look at me as I push my fingers in deeper. Vanessa grips my shoulders, moaning, loud.

"Paige, please..." she manages, barely recognizing her own voice. My smirk just grows, fingers are moving faster now, curling to her spot, stretching her out so much.

"That's it, baby. Just let go, cum for me. You can do it," I babbled. Her breaths came faster, mingling with the squelching of my fingers thrusting in and out. "Paige, I... I can't," she breathed, but it sounded like a lie.

"C'mon V. I want to feel you, want to taste you. Just for me mama."

With each thrust, I could feel her teetering closer to the edge. "I'm trying," she gasped, her voice shaking as I moved her fingers deeper and faster . "I promise it'll feel so good. All over my fingers, just like that." I cooed and I can hear the desperation in my voice.

It was like a dam breaking.Her pussy clenching violently around my fingers. Her hips started to stutter as I curled my longest finger deeper massaging that gummy spot. Waves of pleasure washed over her, body trembling as shs fell apart under me, juices dripping on the couch h and my palm.

"Fuck, that's it," I murmured, fingers still moving in her as I guided her through it. "So good for me. You did it, baby."

Vanessa could barely respond. All I could think was how fucking good it felt to make her cum. For me.

———-

When it’s finally over, we’re both breathing heavily, tangled together in a haze. For a second, I think she might let me stay, that this time could be different. But then she’s reaching for her shirt, slipping it back on, a familiar guarded look settling on her face. And just like that, the walls are back up.

I wandered into the kitchen to wash my hands. The water ran cold, the silence between us loud. Once I was done, I turned around and spoke, "What're you doing later?"

She didn't even hesitate. "Hanging with my sister."

I shot her a side-eye. That was bullshit, and we both knew it. She was too quick with the excuse, not even trying to make it sound real. I smirked. "Sounds like bullshit to me."

She crossed her arms and shrugged, her face going a little tight. "Don't you have someone else to see? ! mean, I saw you after your game with that girl. What was her name again? Leah?"

My stomach twisted. She was bringing that up, huh?

It was funny how she could act like she didn't care about me, but then get all territorial when I wasn't looking.

"Seriously? You're bringing that up now?" I chuckled to mask the weird tension that was bubbling up in me.

"Yeah, I am," she snapped. "I don't like sharing Paige.”

The words hit me in a weird way. I hated and liked how possessive she could be, yet she wouldn't commit to anything. It didn't make sense. I could feel the pull between us, and the way she kept holding back while also keeping me at arm's length, all at once. It was frustrating as hell.

I looked at her, my voice dropping a little. "I don't share either. But I can't exactly do anything about that, can I?"

She was quiet for a second, her eyes shifting around the room before she shrugged again, like she didn't want to deal with the weight of what was just said.

"Tread lightly, okay?"

She was trying to put me in my place, make sure I knew who was "in charge". But it was fucking confusing, because she couldn't make up her mind about us. She wanted me, but she didn't want to admit it. And it drove me nuts.

Her face flickered for a second, and I could see she was holding back-just like always. "Fine. Enjoy your 'sister time' then."

We both knew what was really going on.

———-

A few nights later, I walked into Ted's with Azzi and KK, the noise of the bar flooding my senses. It was a usual after-game stop-loud, crowded, and full of people-but my mind wasn't on the win against Creighton. It was on something else entirely.

Someone else.

I didn't even have to look around to know where she was. My eyes found Vanessa almost instantly, like they always did. She was perched at the bar in a black leather romper, the zipper pulled just low enough to show off her tits, just enough to make my stomach twist. I couldn't help it. I wanted to walk up to her, grab her by the waist, and kiss her right there.

I wanted to feel her lips on mine again, to lose myself in the way she tasted, the way she felt.

But then, as I got closer, my heart slammed in my chest. I saw it.

Her arm was wrapped around Leah.

Leah. Fucking Leah.

I tried to keep my cool, to ignore the tight knot forming in my stomach, but the sight of them standing there, so close, it hurt. Leah had her hand on Vanessa's waist, while Vanessa? She was barely paying attention. She wasn't even looking at Leah.

Her eyes were darting around the room, scanning for... something. Or someone. Then, as if she sensed me from a mile away, her gaze finally landed on me.

"Paige!" Vanessa called out, her voice louder than it needed to be. Her smile wasn't a real one-it was forced, like she was trying to make everything seem normal. "What's up? What you doing here?"

I could feel the frustration bubbling up inside me, threatening to spill over. I didn't want to show her how much it hurt, but it fucking did. She was standing there with Leah, looking so unaffected, like she didn't give a damn about the mess she always left me in. I forced myself to respond, but it came out tighter than I expected.

"I'm here with Azzi and KK for a bit," I said, trying to sound nonchalant, but I knew the irritation was obvious. My voice was clipped, my jaw clenched. I couldn't hide it. The way she was acting-being so close with Leah, acting like nothing ever happened between us, like she wasn't the one who kept pulling me in and pushing me away-it was eating me alive.

Vanessa gave a little nod. "Yeah, well, me and Leah are heading to the bathroom. Catch you later."

She turned without another word, leaving me standing there, alone, feeling like the biggest fucking idiot.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the ache in my chest spreading. Every time I thought I was getting a handle on this, every time I convinced myself I could just let it go, she did something like this. Every time, I found myself right back where I started-confused, angry, hurt.

I stood there for a long moment, my head spinning.

My eyes followed them as they walked away, Vanessa's back turned to me like she didn't even care. But I knew better. I knew how she worked. I could read her, even when she tried to hide it.

What the hell was I doing? What the fuck were we doing?

And right then, I wanted to scream. I wanted to ask her what the hell she wanted from me, why she kept doing this to me. But I didn't. I couldn't.

I hated how much I still wanted her. How every time she pulled away, I let her, and it fucking killed me.

And I hated how much llet her see the hurt in my eyes, even when I didn't say a word.

But she didn't look back. And that made everything even worse.

———-

a/n: posted at 4 but atleast i posted ayeeee!

taglist ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

@thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @sierrale8ne @ohbueckers @absolutelydreadful @authentic-girl03 @mrsarnold @d3arapril @pboogerswbb

[campgender]

Quim Issue #5 (1994)

[image description: a cropped image of a magazine in black and white. at the top is the question “how can you be a lesbian and sleep with boys?” echoed by the words “call yourself a lesbian.” below this are answers with different text formatting for different responses. a black and white cartoon in the bottom right corner shows two people in skirts saying “what on earth was that about?” “haven’t a clue.”

the responses read:

I hardly ever actually slept with them. Of course you can and many of us do. Having sex with men is a diversion I allow myself every 6-8 years. They become more exciting by being forbidden.

I am a lesbian because of the people I choose to live my life with. Occasionally fucking a man doesn’t change that.

I don’t, I call myself bisexual.

My lesbianism means that I am only physically, mentally and emotionally attracted to women. Though I have had good one-off sex with men in the past, that’s as far as it goes. As far as sexual relationships go they don’t feature.

The few occasions I have done it I have had no problem dealing with it at all. I know I’m a dyke – and one of the benefits of being a dyke is having the choice and occasion to do what the hell you like. If I want to shag a bloke then I will (if nothing else to remind me why I never really wanted to sleep with them in the first place!)

If I was interested enough to commit myself to getting good sex with men, there’d come a point when I’d call myself bi-sexual. Anything I engage and put myself into is something to be proud of, so I’d be proud to call myself bi-sexual. But I don’t feel proud of what I have ever felt or done with men in bed, so the label doesn’t apply.

Easy. I am a lesbian and I sleep with guys every once in a while. Which I know many dykes do but they’re just too scared to admit thinking that women will see them in a different light. Most dykes get the 7 year itch even when they don’t admit it to themselves.

I can’t see a way of sleeping with a man/men on a regular basis and calling yourself a lesbian.

Easy.

I can fall in love with women in a matter of minutes. I have never fallen for a man in the same way.

end image description.]

[rafesbangs]

maybe rafe finally seeing mermaid!reader's house and, like all her random trinkets and bobbles and clutter, and lowkey being on his kook ass bullshit, but secretly, he's actually really fascinated and intrigued by it all

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ mermaid!reader shows rafe around her house he acts a little judgey…

warnings: kinda some angst if you squint, fluff (yay) and a tad of classism unfortunately.

a/n: first fluff fic yayay also i adoreeee this req. this is so mermaid!reader and rafe. sorry it took so long to answerrrr & sorry its kinda short ahhhh, im not great at fluff i'll admit so this is good practice. (i hope this is what you wanted <3)

you nervously picked at your nails as you waited on your porch, swinging slowly in the crochet hammock that took you weeks to make. rafe's mercedes pulled into the little dirt driveway and your attention was quickly stolen.

"hey baby" he grinned as he slinked over, rolling his shoulders back to stand taller even though you already think he's the height of buildings. you hop out of the hammock and smile sweetly as he scoops you up for a hug.

"missed you" he mumbles into your hair before planting a kiss on the top of your head. a gesture, he knows, means the most to you. he releases you from the hug with a smile and you grab his hand softly, "missed you most. now come, i'll give you the tour"

he let your little hand drag him into your house. a sudden heat came over your face as you pulled him through the front door, realising how scared you were of rafe's kooky-judgment. you could see it in his demeanour, he was definitely thinking about how small the place is. how some of the wood is kinda rotted on the walls and how rickety the furniture looks. your little shack home was nothing like even the poorest of kook's homes.

you let go of his hand and put both of yours behind your back nervously, looking at the ground as you opened your mouth, "this is my living room kitchen area..." you stated. weakly gesturing to the room with an old tan leather couch that was fraying on the edges, adorned with crocheted, fluffy and wool beachy-themed blankets. the kitchen was tiny, 3 by 2ft and but the algae-green benches and the white black-splash with ocean themed detailing gave it some character.

rafe nodded curtly and glanced around, wordless for a moment, "its... small wow, you weren't really joking about it being a shack.."

your pursed lips turned to a frown quickly and you slowly crossed your arms in front of you, looking up at him disapprovingly as he continued to glance around. your jaw cocked to the side, "yeah some of us kinda pay for everything themselves which includes their house.."

his eyes went a little wide before he looked back at you, noticing your chagrin at his attitude towards your home. "no baby i'm just saying like- you don't deserve to live in a hole..." he quickly says, hands darting out in defence as he speaks but he only annoyed you further.

you roll your eyes, "come on. i'll show you my bedroom." you lead him up some open stairs to the left of the living room, bedroom was kind of a strong word, it was more like a half-loft situation since it technically had a door.

you swing it open and walk in, smiling proudly at your room, its completely filled with sparkly trinkets and decoration, your own little haven.

rafe cautiously followed you in, his eyes wide as he was clearly mesmerised by your cute little space. everything, from roof to foundation, was covered in things. crocheted 'fishing net' hung from the ceiling with little starfish and sparkles on it, jewellery boxes with coral and blues and greens sat all over the place, sparkly light pink and blue mesh fabrics hung from your ceiling above your bed, which was also adorned with whimsical bedsheets and pillows, like a canopy. every photo frame looked handmade with shells and little stones, all over the room dried coral and crystals sat in bowls or bunches. there was even a used tea cup on your dark stained wooden bedside table/cabinet (that was also spilling out all your mermaid-like clothing pieces) that was shimmery and shell themed.

"huh..." rafe began as he picked up a few things that intrigued him, you furrowed your brow, ready for more insulting words to spill from his lips but his face softened into a grin and he looked at you.

"your house is very you." he grinned, as he put the trinkets down carefully in their rightful spot, you looked at him with confusion in your eyes. "cute and mermaid-like, very... mmm, unconventional. but... i'm sorry for before, i... do like it here."

you tilted your head to the side with a forgiving smile before walking up to him and pressing your lips to his, he smiled into the kiss and held the small of your back and your chin, deepening it.

you pulled away first, "i know you're my big bad kook boyfriend but its okay to think my dingy little shack is cute, even for the cut." he chuckled a little and nodded before kissing the end of your nose.

"you're pretty cute, for a pogue" he smirked, his arms still around your waist as he leaned back, waiting for a playful smack.

and you delivered, scoffing and hitting him across the arm. he faked a wince and pretended all hurt as you rolled your eyes, "and you're pretty sweet for a kook."

[strongbabe2907]

God i’m still buzzing.. Read on for more of a dir en grey live report!

So we got there early to get tickets for buying merch and our numbers were pretty good. After that we killed some time i and kept getting so nervous on and off?!

When it was time to buy merch i was nervous again but it all went very smoothly. We did some trading and everyone was so nice and sweet and i got most of what i wanted 😭.

After that more time to kill so we went to eat and MORE NERVES. And then it was time to queue. We all had different numbers to we split and i had 601. I was very proud of myself for hearing when i could go right haha. Once in the venue i was about half way, but was already warned there would be a push and YEAH. It was intense. It was really an experience to get soooo squished yet there’s a vibe of everyone looking out for each other.

So onto the good stuff.. when they came out i was just mesmerized by Kaoru!! He had extensions in and had all his hair curled and the extensions reached till his shoulders. He wore a fancy long jacket (kinda pirate/vampire feel) with black shorts with a gold trim and black leggings. Black and white polka dot blouse he’s worn before ontop with the corset waistcoat over it. He had a black stripe over his eyes for make up and later for the encore he had blood on his face. He also had a little oil lamp on his stand thing?! 😭 so cute?! He went wahwah in the beginning. He went over to play with Die at somepoint and Die also came ro his side, but nothing too exciting haha. He seemed to have a good time but again, first show.. and he seemed to hold back a little maybe? I think they all were in a sense. He also had a blue? Cup he drank out of and whenever he did he wiped his mouth with a little towel after lmao. I think he had a mouth and a sweat towel. How sophisticated.

(Oil lamp if u squint)

I saw most of Kyo and Kaoru, Die was far away and there was a guy right in front of me that blocked my straight ahead view of Toshiya most of the time lol.

Also shout out to the guy next to me who shouted their names SO LOUD i could feel his body vibrate lmfao.

Kyo has hair. Kyo has a face tattoo.. assuming it’s not eyeliner. I wasnt close enough to see what it actually was. He was wearing no make up, a black tshirt and very wide/lose high waisted trousers with a belt that had a metal ring on it. Sneakers bit i couldn’t see his feet most of the time. His voice was good, but definitely got better as the show went on and he warmed up. He really got more lose near the end of the show with smiling and letting the crowd sing and talking etc.. it was nice to see. He did a little dance but he wasn’t super energetic. Again, maybe just cos it was the first show? They all did seem to have a good time though. He wore the love bracelet and small golden hoop in his left ear and i could see the sparkle from his teeth gems haha. It was nice to see him all fresh faced and without contacts 🥹

Kaoru had a really cute little moment where he was looking at the crowd before starting Vinushka, where he tilted his head. And he was very in sync with Kyo who came up from sipping water i think to start the song together.

Also HELLLOOO shokubeni was AMAZING. kyo did a part of it acapella. On my fucking knees.

What i saw of Toshiya was him suddenly popping up without his shirt on lol, apparently he threw it into the crowd.

Im still buzzing. I hope the vibe can only go up from here, it has too!!! Onto the 13th we go🤘

[notaboypossiblyagenius]

I have this very steadfast headcanon that Emily plays the piano and I just think reader would go insane over that actually (I’m reader)

i cut it because i yapped big time:P

i had never thought about this but yes, absolutely!! this would make sense as to why she knows so many languages.

there’s a study that showed that piano training enhanced cortical responses to pitch changes in music and speech!! both the temporal lobe and the frontal lobe play big parts in processing the candece and rhythm, and the rules of languages and music. so, they play into each other a lot more than we think. musicians learn to listen for cues and accents and intonations, which would definitely help in learning a new language.

anyway, she’s been playing since she was young. throughout all the different cultures and languages she encountered during such a critical period of her life, she found that the only thing that managed to stay the same was music. she falls in love with the fact that it is an international language—one that can communicate without borders or boundaries, and she embraces it as the only constant in her fast paced life. She practices and practices, familiarizing herself with the black and white keys that seemed to speak to her in a way her own mother couldn’t bother to.

she’d down play it a lot, and she definitely would not mention it. the piano was her and hers only. her own little piece of the universe she kept tucked away because if everything else in her life got taken away, she still had her knowledge and her muscle memory.

and then along came you, showing so much interest in her and what she had to say that it almost made her suspicious. so, it was no surprise that when you found out she could play the piano you begged her to show you. she denied, of course, claiming that her skills weren’t what you thought them to be. but you were unrelenting, and when she finally gave in you couldn’t understand why she ever kept this hidden.

you could spend hours sitting next to her on that uncomfortable bench listening as she tried to break down a chord for you, or explain to you how a key could be both sharp and flat at the same time. it wasn’t anything you understood, but she seemed to light up whenever she explained it, and you’d endure the hours of confusion if it meant seeing her get back every bit of life her job took from her, her lithe fingers gliding across the keys with such a gentleness that it made you envy the inanimate object. sometimes she’d go months without so much as looking in the direction of the instrument, too busy with work to even think about it. but, you’d coax her into sitting down, saying that you wanted her to teach you something. it was her passion, what set her heart ablaze.

late into nights after she’d press you into her matress, fingers gliding across your skin the same way they did those keys, she evoked sounds from you that were sweeter than any chord progression. in the quiet of her room, between soft conversation and whispered nothings she’d confess to you that if it weren’t for her mother, she’d have to loved to pursue music professionally.

[grandpeachpersona]

It's A Man's World

Chapter 2 (Show them what you got)

Flash-Forward after graduation 

I wake up to my alarm going off I groan and reach up and turn my alarm. Today is the day. Show them what you got. 

I sit up and stretch with the bright Ohio sun in my eyes I look at my phone it reads 7 am on the dot combine and starts at 11 am I’m up just in time to get a shower, breakfast, and maybe a slight workout. 

As the clock struck 9 a.m., I pulled up to the stadium, its imposing structure alive with the energy of anticipation. The driver, Kyle, a friendly face with a warm smile, opened the door for me. “Thank you,” I said, taking my gear bag from him, the weight of it both familiar and comforting. “No problem. Good luck!” he replied, his eyes sparkling with encouragement.

I nodded and returned the smile, feeling a mix of gratitude and excitement, before I turned to face the entrance. The morning air was crisp, and the atmosphere buzzed with activity as I walked toward security. “Hi, what’s your name?” one of the guards asked, his tone professional yet welcoming. “Hi, I’m Sierra Riley,” I answered confidently. Another guard, standing nearby, gestured for me to follow him through the security check. He nodded and said, “Welcome. Follow me.” I adhered to his instructions, the sound of camera flashes popping around me, but I tried to block them out and stayed focused on my path.

Growing up as an only child, I had always been introverted, preferring the company of books and the solace of my own thoughts to the spotlight. The roar of the crowd and the relentless gaze of cameras still made me uneasy.

The guard led me down a narrow hallway adorned with vibrant posters of past champions, their faces captured in moments of glory. He stopped in front of a door, opening it wide to reveal my private locker room. “Here we are. This is your private locker room for the next couple of days,” he said. I stepped inside, my eyes widening in disbelief at the plush surroundings. “Wow, all this for little ol' me?” I exclaimed, my voice filled with wonder. He chuckled softly, clearly amused at my amazement. “Enjoy,” he said before closing the door behind him.

You may be wondering why I have access to such a private space. The simple answer is: I’m a woman. This was a rare treat, especially considering the countless uncomfortable experiences I’d endured in men’s locker rooms—chaotic, often awkward environments that lacked privacy and comfort.

I placed my bag on the sleek wooden bench and began to unpack, the faint smell of fresh paint and polish inviting me in. As I scanned the locker room, my gaze fell on a hanging item in the closet area. Curiosity pulled me closer, and as I approached, my heart raced. There, proudly displayed, was a black and white jersey with my number, 32, emblazoned on the back alongside my last name. Tears of joy welled up in my eyes as I stared at the jersey, a symbol of my journey and hard work.

“Granny, we did it,” I whispered to the empty room, feeling her presence with me in that moment of triumph.

Suddenly I heard a knock at my door “Hi Sierra I’m Jake we spoke over the phone can I come in” the voice on the other side of the door said.

‘Yeah come on” I answer back making my way over to the bench and sit down.

The door swings open, and in strides Jake Thompson—he's even taller than I expected from TV. “Nice to finally meet you in person. I've heard nothing but great things about you,” he says, extending his hand. I shake it firmly and reply with a confident smile, “Good things, I hope?”

“Oh, absolutely! How was your travel?” he asks. I nod, responding with certainty, “No complaints at all.”

“Excellent! Welcome to the MLB Combine. Over the next four days, we’ll be evaluating your skills and abilities. On the last day, all participants will showcase their talents in a game, and from there we’ll decide if you’re eligible to be drafted,” he explains, his tone upbeat.

I absorb the information and nod. “Sounds fantastic,” I say with conviction. He nods back, adding, “You're the first woman we've had in the Combine, and you’re the only one here. Believe me, those guys out there won't hold back—they're all here for the same opportunity. You need to prove to them why you belong. Make your name heard.”

I nod with a confident grin. “Absolutely, sir!”

“Great! Now get changed; I want you on the field in 15 minutes. I’m eager to see your fielding skills,” he instructs as he steps out the door.

I exhale a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. Alright, time to gear up and show them what I’ve got.

As walk out from the dugout I heard the little whispers or gasps in shock as I walked out onto the field Great American Ball Park home to the Cincinnati Reds. Fresh pair of Nike cleats on my feet, sports shades on my eyes, and glove on my left hand right hand ready to throw. 

As I walk out onto the field I see a lot of familiar faces and new faces. 

“Riley!” 

I heard my name shouted I looked over to see who it was I jogged over to home plate and saw it was Jake. “Alright, where going to see how you are in shortstop going to run a couple of drills and go from there” I nod my head and jog out to my position on the field. 

“Veen! Where going to work on hitting position your going to hit to Short and run the play out” Jake told the Rookie who approached home plate who nodded his head then looked at me and his eyes widened slightly. 

I give a slight tip of my baseball cap, which has the MLB logo centered on it. He nods his head back as he prepares to bat. A pitcher steps out from the other dugout and takes his place on the mound. I glance to my left and spot the first baseman.

Lock in time.

The pitcher winds up and throws a fastball.

Veen hits the ball hard toward me. I quickly sprint to it, scoop it up in my glove, and throw it to first base before Veen even gets close to touching it.

I look at the first baseman, who looks like he just saw a ghost. “Damn, you need a pad in that glove, Smith,” Jake calls from the dugout stairs. “Nah, I’m good,” Smith replies with a chuckle.

I shrug my shoulders and lift my hands. “Homeboy was fast; I had to turn up the heat a bit.”

Smith just shakes his head with a smile and throws the ball back to the pitcher.

Yeah, these next few days are going to be fun.

Over the next couple of days, I continued to show my skills by hitting balls more than 400ft, my base running and how I'm able to steal them, fielding, and how I'm able the dive for a ground ball and make double plays. Overall, it's been fun. But now here we are at game day.

With fans plus it's going to be on the MLB network. But not only that all the big people in the head offices are going to be here too. To say my nerves are at an all-time high is an understatement.

But luckily my Best friend Mia is going to be there which eases my nerves a little even though we haven't seen each other in a couple of years since she moved down here for an internship opportunity. Home girl getting her coin and I respect that. 

As I walk into the stadium once again I hear the camera flashes but I'm to but I'm to locked to Beyoncé’s DIVA blasting in my headphones notice. 

I walk into my locker room and see a gift box sitting on the bench. I put my gym bag in my locker and I really get a good look a the box. 

Weird I slowly reached over and opened the box and saw a Nike box inside with a note on top of it.

“So, you thought you could come to town without giving me a heads-up?" I rolled my eyes, already recognizing the playful tone in the note. It was classic Ja’marr. "I thought we were closer than that, but that’s cool. I see how it is." I could almost picture him smirking as I read his words. "But it's fine. I'll accept your apology in the form of a win with those cleats I bought you and a round of drinks when you get drafted." Typical Ja’marr, always finding a way to tease me.

“But for real, sis, I’m proud of you. Go out there and kill it! Show them that they don’t stand a chance against you. I'll be watching, and so will the rest of the Bengals.” I could feel the love and encouragement in his message, even through the banter.

“What?!” I exclaimed, my voice rising in disbelief. My heart raced at the thought of so many eyes on me.

“Good luck! Remember, no pressure.” 

Your big brother, Ja’marr.

Well, thanks a lot, bro. Yeah, no pressure at all. As if I didn't have enough on my plate, now I had an entire NFL team tuning in to see how I perform. 

Help.

Me.

God.

I reached into the box and grasped the sleek Nike shoe box, pulling the top off with curiosity and excitement. “Ha!” I laughed incredulously. This dude knows how to make an impression.

The left cleat was designed with vibrant LSU colors, a tribute to my college and all the hard work I’d put in there. The right cleat, however, was emblazoned in striking Bengals colors, a nod to his NFL team. I couldn’t help but smile; it was a perfect mix of my identity and the new journey I was about to embark on. When I finally see him, it's going to be on and popping.

Game. Time.

They just finished introductions for the red team, and now it’s time to shine the spotlight on us, the blue team. The atmosphere is electric, filled with the excited chatter of fans and the smell of fresh grass.

“And now, for the blue team, hitting first in the lineup, we have the third baseman, number 17, Matthew Veen!” The announcer’s voice booms through the stadium, and I can feel the energy ripple through the crowd.

“Hitting second in the lineup, the right fielder, number 22, Alex Jefferson!” The cheers grow louder as Alex jogs out, ready to make an impact.

“Hitting third in the lineup, the second baseman, number 18, Matt Chambers!” Matt flashes a confident smile and gives a wave to the crowd, clearly relishing the moment.

“Hitting fourth in today’s lineup, the shortstop, number 32, Sierra Riley!” My heart races as I step forward, hearing both cheers and a few boos from the stands. I confidently jog onto the field, my mind focused, determined to block out any negativity and embrace support.

As I approach my teammates, who are lined up along the right foul line, I can see their eager expressions. I give each one a high-five, feeling the camaraderie and excitement building. “Let’s go, baby!” I shout, ready to give it my all in the game ahead. The sound of the crowd swells around us, fueling my adrenaline as we prepare to take the field.

Suddenly I hear LSU chants and look behind me to see my old softball teammates, my old skip Jim Smith, and my best friend Mia. I wave over to where they're sitting and turn my focus back to the rest of the lineup. 

Reiterating the words in my head Show them what you got.

After the national anthem and pregame interviews. It's time to take the field. 

1st inning wasn't a bad one quick one everyone went on 3 pitches or a Flyout. 

2nd inning 4,5,6 were due up. Which means I lead off. 

I grab my bat, feeling its familiar weight in my hands, and step out onto the field as the powerful notes of James Brown's "It's a Man's World" resonate through the speakers, filling the air with energy and anticipation.

“It’s a man’s world, but it would be nothing without a woman or a girl.”

You’re damn straight, James. I can feel the strength in those words as I take my position.

I adjust my stance in the batter's box, ensuring my feet are planted firmly and that I'm not leaning too far forward or backward. As the final notes of the song fade away, I lock eyes with the pitcher. He’s got a determined look on his face, and in that moment, I can sense the intensity of the competition. I hold his gaze, letting him know I'm ready.

He nods to the catcher, signaling the forthcoming pitch, and raises his arm, winding up with deliberate precision. The anticipation in the crowd builds as he releases the ball.

I track its trajectory and realize it’s headed straight down the middle of the plate. Without hesitation, I swing my bat with all my might. There’s an exhilarating moment of contact as the crack of the bat echoes around the stadium, followed by a collective gasp and oohs of excitement from the crowd. 

When I finally open my eyes, I see the ball soaring high into the sky, arcing beautifully toward the outfield. The cheers of the crowd swell as I watch it sail over the fence, secure in its path toward the stands. 

Home run.

I toss my bat aside in triumph and begin my exhilarating journey around the bases, soaking in the electric atmosphere as my home run song, "Pressure" by Ari Lennox, bursts back to life through the speakers, amplifying the thrill of the moment.

The first pitch was a fastball right down the heart of the plate—perfectly placed. The scoreboard lights up: Score 1-0. With adrenaline coursing through my veins, I can't help but think, oh, this is going to be fun…

Chapter 3..My House

A/N: I just realized that in the first chapter, I said 2020 MLB Combine I meant to say 2021 MLB Combine 🤦🏿‍♀️ I was half asleep when I wrote that chapter so please forgive me and my sleepy writing.

[thehollowwriter]

Warnings: Murder, implied mutilation, handling and disposal of a body, general crimes ansbdnddj Word count: 1258

Summary: When the lights at the edge of the kelp forest start flashing, Silas knows he has a job to do. (Aka I introduce everyone to Silas' other job)

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤️)

Lights

There were few times Silas Clearcove felt the need to be discreet on his own property. In a sprawling kelp forest, hours away from other signs of civilisation, there was little need to worry about prying eyes.

When those familiar flashes of light, three short signals, went off in the far distance, though... it was better to be safe than sorry.

Every night at 10:30 like clockwork, Silas would gaze out across his land at a very specific place, waiting. When nothing happened, which was often the case, he'd turn and get ready for bed.

Tonight had been no different. Silas had fixed his eyes upon that lonely land in the distance, tapping his claws against his side, until he saw those little flashes.

Silas drifted out of the rocky cavern he called home and turned away from the stone path that stretched from his garden into the quiet forest.

With every flick of his tail, the light of the lanterns faded to give way to darkness. It was so dark, most others couldn't see an inch in front of their face.

Where he was going, there were no lanterns, no markers to guide his way. All there was to see was an endless stretch of sand and rock and kelp in every direction.

That was fine. Troubled as his memory was st time, Silas knew very well where he was going.

His wards, carefully crafted runes and spells encircling the entirety of his property, pulsed gently to inform him of the stranger on the edge of the property.

Silas saw little use in the lights used to signal him since the powerful magic protecting his home would let him know all he needed, but, well, they insisted.

Silas came to a stop just short of the edge of the forest of kelp. There, in front of him, were a pair of piercing yellow eyes shining in the dark.

The other merfolk, a gulper eel, didn't move an inch further from where they floated. They wouldn't dare. Not without a lantern, or without Silas' permission. The wards did not take kindly to strangers, and they knew it well.

Silas tilted his head to the side at the eel and silently held out his hand, across the boundary of his property.

The other narrowed their eyes before handing over a black bag that, until now, had blended perfectly into the dark.

It was large, bigger than Silas himself, and heavy. It was long, too, and Silas couldn't help but sigh at the thought of dragging it all the way back from whence he came.

"Becareful with that," the eel rasped. "This one didn't have a very pleasant time. Things got... messy."

They grinned, a sick and twisted pulling of the lips that showed of rows of gleaming, sharp pearly whites.

Silas didn't react. He simply bowed his head in a silent goodbye to his deliveryman, then began the swim towards the centre of his kelp forest.

He didn't go home, though. He swam past the entrance and around the side, through the garden that sprawled on behind it, even bigger than in the front.

Silas swam through the seagrass and coral and kelp and sargassum until he came to a cave, not unlike the one that housed his abattoir.

Silas heaved the bag onto a table carved from the rock, the decades old injury in his tail crying out in pain and sending shock waves to the rest of his body.

He took in a sharp breath and waited for the pain to subside, then opened the bag, pulling down the zipper and staring down down at his newest project.

Glassy, lifeless eyes, stared back at him from a face that barely resembled a person. The rest of the poor soul didn't far much better, gashes and bruises marring deathly pale skin like a blight.

Silas didn't ponder what this one did to be brought to such a violent end. He didn't care. It was no business of his, no, his business lay in making this unfortunate lump of flesh disappear.

The stagnant silence of the kelp forest was interrupted by the sound of a bone saw striking at its target, worked away by wrinkled and nimble fingers.

Silas' joints were aching by the time he finished and placed his bone saw down to clean later. He wondered if, perhaps, he should request that they do all the hacking for him beforehand, as time was not very kind to his body. He couldn't imagine doing all this for another seventeen years on top of his regular work.

Silas scooped up his newly acquired selection of parts and drifted back out of the cave and across the garden to where a single brain coral sat still and waiting in the dark.

It was a huge, sprawling thing. A pretty orange and yellow boulder brain coral that would leave avid farmers of coral green with envy at the size. It stood out amongst the mostly green garden, bright, bold, and beautiful.

"Evenin', Gillian." Silas grunted, holding up what was probably an arm. "Got some supper for ya."

The absurdly large brain coral, naturally, did not respond. At least, not with words. What it did do was slowly ripple and move, shifting around and opening up until there was a large hole in the centre. A mouth of sorts. Silas could probably fit inside, not that he was stupid enough to try.

One by one, Silas tossed the pieces of the poor soul that had incurred the Leech family's wrath into the gaping maw of his beloved pet, waiting a few minutes in between each piece.

It took some time for every piece to be discarded. Whoever this was certainly wasn't small, and Silas would not choke out Gillian by shoving it all in at once.

When the last remaining parts were finally gone, Silas patted Gillian's side, and the coral slowly closed up once more.

"Good boy." Silas said, then returned to the cave to clean off the bone saw. There, technically, wasn't much to be done, as blood didn't really stick underwater. However, Silas knew better than to leave it at that and spent the next twenty minutes or so scrubbing and brandishing with soap and magic until the deadly blade was spotless.

Satisfied, Silas slid the bone saw back into its place in the little cave, and left to finally return home.

It was midnight when Silas shut the door behind him, and he tried not to think about how a few years ago he would have been done by at least eleven. There was no point in mulling over it. He couldn't do a thing about time.

Usually, Silas would check on Finn once he finished with "business." Take a peek into his son's room and make sure he wasn't struggling to fall asleep or experiencing nightmares again.

But... Finn wasn't here. No, he was away at school, the same school Morrigan attended, learning new things and, hopefully, making new friends.

Silas swam to his room and rested on the edge of his bed with a sigh. His lamp flickered, casting shadows on the wall.

What would tomorrow bring, he aondered. Hopefully not another "job", this one left him feeling exhausted. But he couldn't complain, could he? He signed up for this, quite literally.

With a slow exhale, Silas reached over and turned off the lamp. His room was plunged into a deep, comfortable darkness, and he let calm overtake, just for tonight. He could rest now.

-End

...........................................

A/N: I hope you guys liked this one! Sorry if it seems a little wonky or weird, I'm trying to get back into writing, and I've had a lot on my mind. I also didn't really know how to end this.

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord

@cloudcountry @skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind @lumdays @theolivetree123

@natsukishinomiyaswife @authoruio @jewelulu @raguiras @honeynclove @moonyasnow

@skibidibabygirl @paperclvps @quartztwst @yuizenihaswriten @devosin

[lyon-77]

Erlang Shen in Traditional Chinese Painting Pt. 1

Searching the Mountains (搜山图) for yaoguais is a classic theme in Chinese traditional painting starting in Southern Song Dynasty. It exists in several versions featuring different commanders, and a major category is Erlang Searching the Mountains. One of its best preserved copies is by Lu Zhi (陆治), dated to the 16th century during the Ming Dynasty and currently owned by the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. The painting is on a silk scroll with a dimension of 61 x 806 cm (24 x 317 inches). As it's impossible to fit the entire painting in one frame here, below are the sections with Erlang and his hound, Xiaotian.

Here is one of the classic representations of Erlang Shen in traditional art, where he holds a sword and strikes a distinctive pose, now called Erlang leg (二郎腿). This term is commonly used in everyday speech to refer to any crossed-leg postures with only one foot on the ground, and it carries a connotation of casual confidence. Many native Chinese speakers are not consciously aware of the link, just as native French speakers might not know that numbers like 86 (quatre-vingt-six) are remnants of the vigesimal (base-20) system. The sword has become a staple in Erlang's image since his adoption into Daoism, where swords signal character and status, serving a more ritualistic than pragmatic purpose. The young boy on Erlang's right-hand side is holding his bow, and other non-human looking figures surrounding Erlang are part of his troop.

It is worth noting that Erlang's troop is called Grassroots Gods (草头神) because they are not formally enlisted in the Celestial Court but are recognized by Erlang. One could say that they, including Xiaotian, might've been considered yaoguais if not for Erlang. This might be why in Black Myth: Wukong, the game maker combined different lores to have Erlang's sworn brothers mentioned in JTTW be the yaoguais he previously subdued in Investiture of the Gods. As such, in the portrait section of the BMW journal, their names appear under Characters rather than Yaoguais.

This detail may open up many interpretations. For one, it shows Erlang's attitude toward yaoguais isn't simply antagonistic and the boundaries between yaoguais, humans, immortals, and gods are more fluid. Looking beyond Black Myth: Wukong's framing, the very concept of grassroots gods suggests that Erlang Shen believes in true merits—yaoguais who harm humans need to be subdued, while those who do good or are willing to redeem themselves can ascend to godhood. This is quite different from viewing yaoguais as inherently evil and untrustworthy, and is consistent with Erlang's traditional depiction as unconventional but charismatic, free-spirited with a good nature.

Xiaotian, as you can see in this panel of the painting, is depicted as a white sighthound. The beautiful women in the foreground are actually yaoguais, reflecting another common rule in Chinese lore—yaoguais who look just like humans are more likely to be evil as they rely on disguises, while yaoguai-looking characters are more likely to be positive and even immortals or gods as they have nothing to hide with their true forms. It's a curious theory when you consider Sun Wukong's evolution in Chinese lore. His earliest depiction is as a lewd ape yaoguai who often shows up as a white-robed scholar, but by the time of JTTW, he appears as a monkey throughout the story without needing or wanting to pretend to be a human.

[justsomeno1s]

LOBCORPxISAT AU ABNO IDEAS

Made it to Act 3! I now have more information to work with! Hooray!

Current Ideas for Siffrin, The King, and Loop as abnormalities under Read More due to length

ALSO IF YOU HAVE IDEAS/CRITISCMS, LMK PLEASE AND THANK YOU!!! I don't have any Unique Bonnie ideas yet, and I'm stumped, so I'm posting for feedback.

Siffrin

Sif is def an Abno. Formerly human, but lacking some humanity from being in containment so long. Prolly around HE or WAW.

Works best with Attachment, worst with Repression. (He's durable as anything from however many loops he's gone through- I don't think they'd take being forcefully repressed very well, either) Deals White damage in Unit.

Abilities wise, I think Sif would be pretty fun to play with, but also simple! They have a base counter of 3, and if their Counter hits 0, they breach and start attacking people. "WHO CARES?! THEY'RE NOT EVEN REAL!" kinda vibes. Resistant to Black and Red damage, Weak to White and Pale. He'd just tear through the facility until he's defeated, and if health gets to half, they'll start running away. If they aren't attacked for about a second, they'll heal themselves for 1/4 of max hp, and start dealing black and red damage at once. ofc, thats only if they get away.

For Mechanics, it's still basically the same idea as mentioned before; Every start of the day, when the ordeals are chosen, Siffrin chooses a genre of play, which dictates their likes and dislikes for the day. Add some interactions with Retrying Days, the time breaking abnos (I.E: Shelter from the 27th of March and Backwards Clock), and the other ISAT abnos, and there's something fun!

Comedy means they want Good Results, Tragedy means he wants Bad Results. Musicals are Insight, Slice of Life are Attachment, Dramas are Instinct. Nothing selected means they want Repression- Some suicidal ideation, in a way.

Equipment would obviously be based on Sif's things from ISAT: Weapon is a Temperance based Knife, curved and split at the tip, so it looks like a closed pair of scissors. Suit is a black suit with a short white cape and hood, maybe with off-white boots and gloves. (I can't think of any effects TT) For the gift, the Nugget gets a dark circle marking like the Healing Craft symbol, on their cheek, which turns a pale white when spent.

Idea: How about… a "get out of death free" type deal as a Ego Gift? Only once per Employee, a nugget can dodge death, in and out of Containment units. As a counter, it instantly drops their sanity to 0, and any other non-death effects still take place. (So, Counters dropping, breakouts, infections- that kind of deal. Might still be broken, but its fun to think about!)

The King

The King fits really well as an Aleph (idk if he's that powerful in ISAT, but still).

I think he'd be one of the abnos who change reaction based on level. Notable thoughts include: Lv 5 Insight is Bad, Lv 4 Insight is Good, Attachment works well but would be picky (From the offer to the party to be frozen).

Definitely still trying to freeze the world in time, producing tears, and showing visions of the future. For more interesting "gameplay", he could get the ability to create Sadnesses out of his Tears.

When his counter hits 0 and he breaches, he'd head to his department's Main Room, freezing anyone he comes in contact with. Upon reaching the destination, he'd begin to cry, spawning Tears and Sadnesses that spread away from him and begin attacking non-frozen Nuggets and Clerks. Being in the same room as him deals White damage over time. If defeated, the frozen Nuggets will return to normal, but the Tears and Sadnesses will continue to roam- The King is considered breaching until all of them are taken out, making them an end of day nightmare. So, essentially, a tanky Abno that can cause an Ordeal! Fun!!

Equipment: Weapon is a Shield and Mace combo, which lowers incoming damage taken when equipped (Deals Black, Reduces Pale). Suit is a deep blue, almost black set of armor with white strands that float off of it like hair in water (Weak to Black, neutral to all others). Ego gift gives the Nugget tears around their mouth and eyes.

Loop

Loop would be an abnormality, but I have no idea what level. The only idea I have so far is that their containment unit would also have the Favor Tree- The two could be fused in a way? Whether that makes Loop a dryad type deal or two separate entities in the same room, idk.

[I was think like parasite tree at first, but I like Loop being able to leave the Tree]

Maybe the Favor Tree grants wishes, and Loop tries to stop people from making them? Appearing inhuman, celestial, and ghost-like (maybe even scary) to ward people off. Or at least, that's the rumor. "The tree is fiercely protective of its leaves, calling upon a second form to punish those who take anything from it."

I really don't know enough yet to make them accurate to ISAT, so I'll just swing it to horror. Loop is a spirit that is given form by the favor tree specifically to "punish" (Kill brutally) anyone who takes things from the tree. Have them look human, but be able to pull people apart at the seams

In Unit, they deal white damage, definitely. If Loop were playing nice, their personality might only be a mild annoyance, but without that incentive, why not drive a few randos to madness for the hell of it?

Outside the unit... idrk " If high level, Pale. If low level, Black.

I feel like they'd get more aggro if the Nugget working on them had equipment/gifts from the other ISAT Abnos. A bit like Snow Queen, but not insta death. (Could include Loop's gifts too. "I gave you that in good faith, and you use it against me? Well, I guess I'll take it back!"

Would need high-ish Temperance or Prudence to avoid dropping their counter. Probably likes... insight. From the chats with Sif, and the Nugget knowing not to take anything (Thank you, Red Eyes)

Ego Equip would be a Staff with White, Star-like leaves. Deals White damage and slows the enemy slightly. (If high level, maybe heals?) Outfit is a white suit with black arms. If I could, I'd give a mask or helmet to make the Nugget look more like Loop as part of the suit. (Resist Black, Endure Red, Weak to White- Pale Res affected by level, again) Gift? Def a helmet- Imagine a laurel made of stars, that trails down the side of your face and covers an eye. (Raise Temp, lower SP)

[nekohime19]

Heart behind the lie # 61 : Stories

Xiaobo tells the story of the desert, in exchange Mac tell the famous "hero and warrior" tale. Xiaobo think it's the gayest shit they ever heard.

Macaque looked at the flames’ shadows, they were dancing across the boulder's walls, swaying like dancers’ ribbons. Time passed slowly. Their narrow hideout was filled with the pungent smell of the desert. It wasn't pleasant. The scent of ashes slithered in-between them, nipping at their noses without any mercy. Macaque pulled his scarf higher, hiding his nose in the red cloth. 

According to Xiaobo, the bashes would fall asleep at moonrise, only then would they be able to leave this place without another unfortunate meeting. Macaque didn't want to use his portals, he didn't want to aggravate his already fraying body, as to Xiaobo… their portals were a double-edged sword, it was better to wait than end up in a worse place. 

The warrior gazed at the young lamb. Xiaobo was eyeing one dark corner of their narrow hideout, eyes fixed on the shadows. Something moved in the darkness. Long and thin. An hiss echoed, the sound as faint as a drop of water falling on the sidewalk, Xiaobo leaped forward. They pressed down on an emerging snake, not letting it approach. The beast struggled, twisting itself in all angles, but it couldn't escape. With one swift move, Xiaobo took its life. The lamb hummed and prepared their catch, face unmoving, no matter how gruesome the snake's inside may be. 

“You want some?” Proposed Xiaobo as they grilled the snake over their little firecamp. Macaque wasn't one to be picky, especially in diresome situations such as those. 

“Thanks.” He nodded as he took the meat. It was coarse with an aftertaste of ashes, but it was nonetheless edible. As long as he could swallow it, Macaque didn't mind. Still, the slight taste of ashes bothered him. Why did everything in this place seem to be drowned in ashes, to the point even the inside of animals were tainted by its taste? Something definitely happened here. Something dreary. “What happened here?” Asked the warrior, he bit his last mouthful of snake. Truly, he wouldn't eat snake's again if he had the choice not to. 

“That's a long story.” Huffed the young lamb, they reclined on the boulder's wall and crossed their arms. Burying themselves in their pancho. It was a cute sight, if one ignored the murderous glare on their face. 

“We have time, don't we?” Shrugged Macaque. One of his ears flickered. He could hear the bashes slither beneath their feet. They weren't asleep yet. They had hours to kill before moonrise. 

“Don't remind me.” Whined the lamb. They played with some fraying threads of their pancho, tugging and twisting it. “First, what do you know about this place?”

“Nothing.” It wasn't true. From what he saw, what he lived through, he speculated some things or two. But it was better to pretend he was ignorant. Because then Xiaobo will be forced to say everything they knew to explain what happened. The young lamb raised one eyebrow and looked at him, unimpressed. Macaque did his utmost to look innocent. “Something’s wrong?” Hummed Macaque. 

“Wathever.” Sighed the lamb. “So at first there was three clans-”

“That's a terrible beginning.” Maybe his love for theatrics was showing, but he couldn't let the story have such an awful beginning, could he? 

“Are you seriously questioning my storytelling skills right now?” Huffed the lamb, their snow-white coat puffing out in outrage. Macaque snorted. This kid was fun to mess with. 

“I'm just noticing that you could work on your phrasing.” Shrugged Macaque. 

“You want the damn story or not?” Groaned Xiaobo, they crossed their arms and leveled the black-furred monkey with a furious glare. Macaque raised his hands to placate the kid's temper. 

“Floor is yours.” Offered Macaque. 

“So… a long time ago there was three clans ruling the desert.” Xiaobo looked at him, daring him to cut them again. Macaque said nothing. This was better than the last beginning. He nodded at the kid in a show of acceptance. Xiaobo huffed in pride, perhaps happy to meet the monkey's expectations. “The Darkmoons, a major clan of shadow users that possessed the incredible ability to control people through their shadows. The Blooms, a minor clan of different magic users who wished to turn the desert in a green paradise. And the Goldhands, a minor commercial clan of different magic users that kept selling the different beasts and plants one could only find in the desert to outsiders. The Darkmoons, as the larger and more powerful clan, was considered as the undisputed ruler of the desert.”

Macaque nodded, this situation wasn't uncommon. When a territory was divided in multiple clans, the stronger clan would always be the one ruling above the others. For clans, strengh was the only right and the only truth. No matter the stations, power was the only ruler. Nonetheless, the warrior was also glad to finally have a name. He thought this shadow clan name was lost in history… perhaps it was more complicated than that. 

“One day, Dishi, the son of the previous head, ascended as the head of the Darkmoons… His rule was… a mess. He didn't care for politics or for harmony, he was a fucking jerk, if you want my opinion. He broke one of the Darkmoons most sacred rule : You aren't allowed to control people's shadows to serve your benefits, but only on the battlefield. Dishi believed that it was idiotic to limit their technique, that they should enjoy it, and that the strong are the only right.”

That wasn’t surprising either, it was impossible for all Darkmoons heads to prioritize the common people needs. One day or another, a head like Dishi was bound to come, one that didn't care about the lives of those beneath him. “Let me guess, things got messy real fast?” Asked Macaque. 

“It was a whole shitshow. The Darkmoons were divided, some believed it was wrong to use other people with their technique, you know, they had common sense. Others believed Dishi was right and they used their techniques to control people as they pleased. But since Dishi was the head, he promoted those who thought like him, and fired those who opposed him.”

“A tyrannical rule then.” Summarized Macaque. 

“Since they were all abused, the two other minor clans, the Blooms and the Goldhands, and the dividents who opposed Dishi decided to merge themselves and create a new clan. The shadow users who opposed Dishi revealed a weakness in the shadow controlling spell and created a new spell to counter it : they called it the living-torches.”

“That…doesn't sound like a good spell.” Winced Macaque. 

“Worst idea ever, yeah. The living-torches spell is simple in practice : you use fire magic to set the magic flowing in your veins on fire, transforming you into some kind of shadowless living torch. As such, the shadow users cannot control your shadows, because you have none. And so… a new clan was born : the Sunfires.”

Macaque sighed, that wasn't a good spell. Ignoring how setting yourself ablaze wasn't a very good idea, setting your own magic ablaze was bound to lead to disastrous consequences. If he had to take a guess, Macaque would say the reason the city was keeping the Jeweler was to deal with the consequences of the living torches spell. This spell probably birthed some kind of disease or condition that needed serious healing. Coupled with the fact everyone in the city was wearing veils hiding their skins (probably to hide the marks left by the living torches spell), Macaque was pretty certain of his guess. 

Diseases born of a wrong use of magic weren't unheard of. Magic was tightly intertwined with the body and the soul. Messing with the flows running in your veins could mess with the very structure of your body, especially if you repeatedly messed with it. For example, a minor condition due to an overuse of fire magic would be Red Son's hair. Because fire was intertwined with his magic due to how much he used fire magic, his body slowly began to change, his hair set ablaze based on his emotions. It wasn't a strong change. But it was one nonetheless. Macaque didn't even fathom what changes the living-torches spell could do to someone, especially if the person repeatedly used it. 

“And so war happened.” Guessed Macaque. 

“War happened.” Nodded Xiaobo. “The Sunfires set the desert ablaze, and the Darkmoons were eradicated. But the Sunfires didn't stop even after taking Dishi's heads. Guess power really makes you crazy. They killed all shadow users, even the ones who helped them. They burned down the Darkmoons palaces, erased their name from books and legends, and forbade anyone to mention them. They called them the puppeteers as an insult. Shadow users hunts were organized, even children and elderly were executed publicly.”

“Lovely story.” Sighed Macaque. Most probably, the hatred for the Darkmoons carried on for centuries until nowadays. The story shed light on numerous points but if anything, it taught him that he wouldn't be able to negotiate, as a shadow user, with people of the city. This kind of hatred couldn't be faced with reason. No matter what he did, no matter who he was, as long as he was a shadow user, those people would hate his very existence. When you were raised in a place that bathed in hatred, it was inevitable to fall prey to it. As such, they're only option was probably to take the Jeweler and Xiaobo away. 

“I'm gonna be honest with you kid, if I came here it's for your aunt. You could say that I’m in need of some healing.” Macaque decided it was better to be upfront with the kid. Especially if they were to join forces. 

“Would you be willing to get her out of here?” Cautiously asked Xiaobo. Their eyes were narrowed in slits, as if they couldn't decide if Macaque was a dangerous beast that could swallow them whole or a potential ally. Macaque wasn't surprised. Considering the Sunfires hatred for shadow users, it wasn't difficult to imagine what kind of life Xiaobo had in this desert. Macaque wondered why they never left, but perhaps it was too personal to ask. 

“Yeah, I’ll get her out.” The lamb ever so slightly relaxed. Yet the moment they realized they let their guard down, they huffed and crossed their arms, trying to appear threatening. In vain. Macaque wasn't going to be afraid of a fluffy lamb with a temper issue. 

“I'll put some good words for you, old man. Maybe Lady Wan will be willing to help you then.” Muttered the lamb, Macaque smiled gratefully and Xiaobo huffed, shooing his gratitude away with a flick of hand. “So I told you a story, now it's your turn.” 

“Is that how it works?” Asked Macaque with a raised eyebrow. 

“Duh, it's an equivalent exchange.” Replied Xiaobo as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Well, they still had time to kill before moonrise, Macaque guessed he could blabber a bit. Now, what stories should he tell? He didn't really want to dive into his life, especially since it was a mess. But there was one story he liked and that was perhaps vague enough for Xiaobo to not suspect it was related to his life. Unfortunately, he couldn't control the shadows as of now, it would have made the story more vibrant, but he guessed his storytelling skills were enough. 

“My story follows the tragic tale of a legendary warrior and how those who bring light in this world inevitably bring darkness to those they hold dear. Like light heroes bring warmth, hope and friendship but they also give life to the darkness.” Began Macaque, the words flowing naturally. In truth, he never truly told this story to anyone except maybe MK, even Wukong never heard of it. It would be mortifying if Wukong ever heard of it. 

“That sounds like you had some serious beef with a hero. That reeks of frustration” Hummed Xiaobo, they leaned forward, invested in the following. 

“Why do you think the story is talking about me?” Macaque tried to appear nonchalant, in vain, his swaying tail was betraying him. 

“No amount of theatrics can hide how personal it sounds.” Snorted Xiaobo. “But go on, I'm invested in your drama now, old man.”

Macaque rolled his eyes, but he resumed the tale nonetheless. “The hero and the warrior were like the sun and the moon. Their light a protective glow shining upon the world. Together there was nothing that could stop the two of them. Either in the celestial realms or on earth.”

“Wait, wait, wait, were the warrior and the hero banging?” Cut the young lamb, now a large mischievous smile blooming on their lips. Macaque sputtered. 

“How is this your conclusion!?” Screeched the black-furred monkey, fur puffed out. 

“I mean come on…sun and moon, they're together forever, it's the world against them? That's, huh, that's a very deep friendship, if you catch my meaning. The ‘historians would call them best friends’ type of shit.”

“No, they were just really good friends.” Huffed Macaque. 

“Realllly? You had no feelings for this hero of yours?” Asked the young lamb, their eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“Do you want me to continue or not?”

“Okay, okay, don't get your tail all twisted. Go on with the love story, old man.”

“It's not–whatever.” Sighed Macaque as he rubbed his forehead. “As time went on the hero attained power beyond comprehension as the hero’s light grew so too did his shadow and soon the warrior was cast in that shadow. In the darkness the warrior was forgotten by the hero.”

“Did the hero break up with you? Do you want me to punch him? Because I can do it.” 

“Are you teasing me or is this a serious offer?” Snorted Macaque. 

“Bit of both.” Shrugged Xiaobo. “Sooo, is this the end? The hero and the warrior never see each other again?”

“No, it's not the end. After much struggle, the hero and the warrior came to an understanding, light was shed on past actions, and, even though they changed, they decided to move forward together.”

“Happy ending, nice.” Nodded Xiaobo. “So you're banging the hero again.”

Macaque took a handful of sand and threw it at the young lamb. Xiaobo coughed and grimaced, disgusted. “Are you fucking for real?” Growled Xiaobo. 

“Shh, I don't hear the bashes. They must be asleep.” Hummed Macaque, he ignored the lamb angry grumbles and left the boulder. Night was veiling the desert. Cold as ice. Rutheless yet beautiful. 

“You're so petty.” Muttered the lamb as they followed him outside. 

“Do you know how to get back to the city?” Asked Macaque. Xiaobo looked at the stars piercing the night veil. 

“Mm, we have three days of travel.”

“Then I guess we're stuck together a bit longer.” Hummed the black-furred monkey with a smirk. 

“Oh, wow, I am so happy.” Grumbled Xiaobo with the most flat tone ever, their tongue dripping in sarcasm.

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[ruthariandbluecookies]

CLAUDIA when I- oh wait, she was being manipulated by her father and now Aaravos and just wants her family back together and is a child

...

VIREN when I catch yo- oh wait, he's dead

...

AaRAVOS when I cat- oh wait, he's a father grieving his daughter who was unjustly killed

...

THE COSMIC ORDER WHEN I CATCH YOU!!!

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

‘the black bastard of the wall’ moniker is the exact opposite of the ‘white wolf’ moniker and this perfectly highlights the irreconcilable differences between book Jon and show Jon

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OOH YEAH BABY ITS THE SURGERY EPISODE BABY!!! ME AND THE HOMIES NEED SOME NEW FACES FOR OUR NEW PLAN, AND WHO BETTER TO GET THE JOB DONE THAN THE TWO MOST EVIL PEOPLE WE'VE EVER HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF HAVING OUR LIVES VIOLATED BY? I MEAN IT WOULD BE FUNNY. IT WOULD BE FUNNY.

[xaviers-school-dropout]

I think the ideas that

“Raven is a bad parent”

And

“Raven loves their children”

Can and should co exist. I will never sit here and say Mystique is a good parent, but I think acting like they don’t love their children is just being willfully ignorant of their characterization since the 80s.

I see a lot of people try to claim Raven doesn’t care about their kids. I actually think they care a LOT, it just, doesn’t deter their actions. And they’re not a good parent, don’t get me wrong, but that doesn’t mean they don’t love Kurt and Rogue and I think trying to claim they don’t actually does away with a lot of Raven’s character nuance.

A lot of the tragedy and depth of their relationships come from the fact that Raven DOES love their children, but it’s not enough. And Kurt and Anna Marie know that, and that’s part of the tragedy of it too.

I’m not a Mystique defender, but I am a Raven Darkhölme characterization realist. A lot of people flatten their character to add more sympathy to Kurt’s story especially, which feels kinda iffy to me. But that’s for another post.

From a storytelling perspective, it adds so much more depth and tragedy to all characters involved to not make the relationship so shallow and one sided as “Oh Mystique doesn’t love them”, and even to juxtapose Raven’s relationship to them with Irene’s is a whole other thing I may talk about one day. But like, you do the story injustice to flatten it down to just “Oh Mystique sucks”

Tl;dr - Raven Darkhölme is a shitty parent but they do love their kids. And that’s the whole tragedy of the thing