#and it might be interesting to see how it looks when it’s just starting to grow back tbh

[luveline]

If you are still writing for bombshell x Spencer could you write something from early seasons when he had feelings for JJ 👉🏻👈🏻

Hotch told you once that he was tempted to put an automatic lock on the office doors, so that he can lock them when he sees you coming during your working hours. 

He has yet to follow through. You slip in through the doors and take a deep breath. It smells like coffee, printer paper, all the same stuff as your own office, but your office doesn’t have Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, or Spencer Reid. 

“Neither does this one, apparently,” you mumble to yourself, casting your gaze around the room to no avail. The boys aren’t here. 

Emily’s sitting at her desk. She’s new, you’re jealous of her job, but she’s gorgeous. You won’t mind sitting at Spencer’s desk until they get back. “Hello,” you drawl, setting down in Spencer’s chair comfortably. 

Emily’s mildly startled. “Hey?”

Spencer’s desk is an explosion. You debate cleaning up for him. What if you put something in the wrong place? It’ll be more annoying than helpful. “How are things?” you ask, pushing Spencer’s chair back, and kicking a leg over your knee, high heel bobbing. 

“What?” 

You smile at her. Flirting, just a little, but your concern is real. “How are things going, Prentiss? With you?” 

“They’re good. Yeah. I just moved into my new place.” 

Bless her for not knowing what to do with you. She doesn’t have practice like the rest. “A new place? Where to?” 

She relaxes while you talk. Her apartment overlooking Kingman, her cat’s annoyance at the new smells and the long case time away. “Spencer says that cats aren’t capable of holding grudges, but Sergei can.” 

“He’s cute, isn’t he? He knows a fun fact for everything.” 

Emily sits up. You can see the excitement of a secret in her dark eyes. “He’s adorable. His little crush on JJ is so sweet, I’ve tried to give him some advice but he’s totally stuck on her.” You falter. And Emily, profiler in training, she catches it. Her lips part, startled. “You’re not–”

“I had no idea Spencer had a little crush,” you breathe, sitting up with a smile. “For how long? What about JJ, is she interested in him?” You hug your hands together. “You know, I think they’d make a cute couple.”

“Well, I heard they went to a football game together, but I don’t know when. Before I got here, at least.” 

What? “That’s fun.”

“I don’t think it’s serious.”

You tip your head back and the heavens have opened, Derek Morgan’s making his way toward you with a grin and a hand reaching for you. “Sweetheart, where have you been?” he asks. “It’s been weeks, I was starting to miss you.” 

You texted him a few days ago about a property nearby for rent, and you had coffee the day after to hear his advice on the area, so he’s just making stuff up. “Hi, Derek.” 

You get up and let him hug you. You deserve it. You’re beautiful and fun and smart, and you deserve a handsome man rubbing your arm and telling you he missed you. “How much?” you ask warmly. 

“Like a hole in the head.” 

Hotch is behind him. And there, the surprise item of the afternoon, Spencer Cheating Reid. 

“Hi, Hotch,” you say. 

“I heard something about you I’d rather not repeat,” he says. 

“Hotch, the details were wildly exaggerated, and I was less at fault than you might think.”

“I thought it was entirely your fault.” He shakes his head. “You’re shooting yourself in the foot, doing things like that.” 

“Why, what did you do?” Spencer asks. 

You falter again. Everyone sees your insecurity: Hotch’s brow furrows deeper than it had been, Morgan pauses, and Spencer, to your panic, holds your eye as the emotion passes. “It’s not worth talking about,” you say, shrugging. 

“Try not to do it again,” Hotch says. “Morgan, with me.” 

“Uh, Hotch?” Emily speaks up. 

“You too, Prentiss.” 

He leads a procession up to his office. Morgan throws you a look like he wants to talk to you, but you’ve plastered unaffectedness over the wound again. Why does the idea of JJ and Spencer going on a date upset you? He’s a sweet guy, she’s a nice girl. Is it because you didn’t know? 

“You really haven’t been here in weeks,” Spencer says. 

“Missed me?” 

He holds the strap of his bag. “Yeah, I did.” 

What use does he have missing you? “I heard something interesting about you, Spencer.” 

“You did?”

He looks shy, pale, and worried. You forget sometimes how he’s not just your favourite dork, he’s a friend. And he doesn’t seem to have very many of them. 

Oh, you think, jealousy, you heartless monster. 

“The rumour mill says you aren’t sleeping enough,” you say gently. 

“I sleep fine.”

You put one kitten heel in front of the other and stay, squinting at him with a teasing suspicion. “That’s not what my informants have been telling me. You look tired, honey. You aren’t sleeping, or Hotch won’t let you?” 

“Both.” 

He does that playful smiley thing that makes you wanna scrunch his hair in your hands, like he knows he’s made a good joke. 

“Your case in Cincinnati sounded tough.” 

“Wait,” he says. 

“What?” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Usually. Why?” 

“Are you okay right now?” 

“I’m fine.” You purse your lips. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Just– you– I don’t know, you didn’t seem like yourself. I didn’t mean to upset you, asking about that stuff. It’s none of my business, sorry.” 

“How are you feeling about physical touch today?” you ask. 

He seems to regard you with distrust, for a few seconds, like he’s worried you’re messing with him. “I’m okay with it,” he says eventually. 

You step into his space and touch his cheek gently, fingertip tapping into a beauty mark you often remember only when he’s in your reach. “You didn’t say anything wrong. I’m sorry I made you think that.” You drop your hand. “Just having a weird day.” 

“Me too.” 

Spencer puts his bag under his desk and mentions a video he found on profiling you might like by one of the old Unit Chief’s, SSA David Rossi. You steal Derek’s chair and sit knee to knee with him to watch it, Spencer’s cheeks turning dark with blush in the screen’s reflection. 

Can JJ make him blush like that? 

—

bombshell fics

[felassan]

David Gaider on Zevran, under a cut for length:

"I was going to skip over Zevran, honestly, as I felt like I didn't have a lot to tell in the way of stories about him... but I know he still has some (ardent) fans. Plus, on reflection, I thought maybe I DO have a few things to say. 😅 Sooo we'll see how this goes. Zevran came along much later in the DAO process, as we were trying to round out the cast of party members. Alistair and Morrigan were well underway (as "main" characters, they were concepted very early) and I'd just started to consider who our Rogue followers might be when... things changed, a bit. See, BioWare had released a game not long beforehand called Jade Empire. It had included some same-sex options in its romances - not obscured like the way Juhani's "romance" had been hinted at in KotOR, but explicit. To this day, I have no idea who on the Jade Empire team was behind it, or why. More to the point, the same-sex options had received a lot of attention and praise - almost universal praise, in fact. In 2005, everyone was just pleasantly surprised. And I don't recall if I went to James and asked about it or if he came to me to suggest DAO should include it. The latter, I think."

"You might ask "Aren't you gay, Dave? Weren't you already pushing for this?" And the answer to that is, emphatically, "no, not at all". It might seem odd looking through the lens of 2024, but there was no talk of 'representation' or 'diversity'. Not at any level where we were aware of it, anyhow. Today, fans argue about how MUCH representation to include and whether it's done well enough... the idea that, less than twenty years ago, it being included *at all* was very much in doubt feels so far away. But, back then, I'd always assumed my private life and my work in games would never meet. So I think it was James who brought it up, because I remember being startled. Pleasantly so, of course. Now I had to look at our two rogues and figure out how this would apply. I sketched out the female of the two (who was taken on by Sheryl Chee) and then looked at the male - he who became Zevran. I'd been reading about the CIA and one thing that stuck with me was how they'd (allegedly) recruit gay men as assassins because they rarely had familial ties. Zevran wasn't going to be gay (bisexuality wasn't a question of representation, but a cost-benefit compromise) but that was the inspiration."

"Then there was the question of how "flamboyantly" I was writing this character, whether that might be too stereotypical? I don't remember how it arose, but I had too many "flamboyant" friends to do anything other than double down. This character was gonna be Zorro the goddamn Gay Blade, that's what. So that's how Zevran happened. Fun, a bit nihilistic, maybe a bit too overtly flirty for today's audience but very confidently *sexual*. Everything I'm not, so I'll admit it was an interesting exploration to dig down and find that voice somewhere inside. He was the anti-Alistair, and I needed that. Casting him was difficult. Caroline always tried to go for authentic accents, when we could, but for some reason this was getting us nowhere. I think back, and I suspect it's because I hadn't yet learned the lesson to not use terms in casting descriptions I thought were universal... but were not. What do I mean by that? Well, there was one write-up that said "drow elf". Now, I know what a drow elf is. It wasn't even important to the description, but the director saw the word "elf", and you know what we got back? A Keebler elf. Like a leprachaun, high and sweet and cutsie. Can you imagine?"

"In this case, I think it was the use of the word "assassin". Combine that with the sorts of roles many Hispanic actors in LA probably are asked to play, and all the auditions we were getting were 150% dark, mean, and gritty. 🫠 So we widened the casting call a bit, and this led us to Jon Curry. I knew Jon wasn't Hispanic, but what I wasn't prepared for when I flew down to meet the DAO actors was that he's this extremely tall, extremely Nordic looking dude who just happened to do the most amazing Antonio Banderas impression. Watching THAT man channel Zevran was... more than a bit surreal. 😅 And he had fun with it. As soon as we gave him the go ahead to play the fun and flirtiness to the hilt, that's exactly what he did. Over the few days where we found Zevran's voice, it totally supplied me with something I could hold in my head when I went back to Edmonton and finished writing him. Zevran was funny enough that the fans liked him. The only part of the reception I thought odd was the occasional comment by a male player who felt "tricked" into having sex with Zevran. "You mean... that part where he invites you to his tent for a sensual massage?" "Yes! I was expecting a massage!" "He literally says the massage is sensual." "Well he wasn't clear enough!" This is where I first came to the conclusion that a certain number of our players just don't know how to people. And that maybe an adjustment to the way we approached the messaging (or massaging lol) of romance was in order. If I could go back, would I change anything? Maybe I'd remind the systems team Zevran should really be able to pick a lock. And maybe not allow him to die. We had no idea we'd need to import these choices into the future - we kinda thought DAO was "one and done". Not so much, as it turned out. 😁"

[source thread]

David Gaider: "there's something to be said about how Zevran flirted and even had sex with you because he thought that's all he had to offer... not just you, but anyone. And when he realized you wanted something deeper, suddenly he was on unsteady ground and it truly unsettled him. It was fun to explore." [source]

User: "So David - besides loving the fact that the third image you picked is a gay sex scene - what happened in DA2(DAE - come on) with Zevrans design?" David Gaider: "Check the ALT text. It wasn’t a custom sculpt, so that’s as close as they could get it. Which… was not close." [source]

User: "Just to make sure I fully understand: the director (was it the voice director?) saw the word "elf" and thought you were looking for someone high, sweet, and cutesie?" David Gaider: "Yeah, this was from back before we managed VO in-house. The voice director in this case just didn’t have an association with “elf” like some familiar with fantasy would." [source]

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 12: The One Where We Start Laying the Yellow Brick Road to Italy

I realized the other day that, even though I like to bounce around from place to place in the Lukola timeline, I probably needed to start tightening things up on the ship if I ever wanted to get to the end of the story. And, yes, dammit, this story better have a finale at some point because there’s nothing more annoying than an open-ended ending, particularly in the romance genre.

Today we’re going to take a quick jaunt over to Italy because –

NO! Not because Luke is allegedly filming there. If you’re into real-time stalking, you’re in the wrong blog. But, I’m sure there’s a Discord for that.

It’s because I’ve had several people ask for my opinion about the change in behavior between Luke and Nicola during their Day 1 interviews there. Wait – people are interested in my thoughts? Wow, that’s actually kind of nice. Thank you! Okay, back to what I was saying –

Was there a change in behavior when Luke and Nicola reached Italy? Yeah, actually, there kind of was.

By May 9, we had been gifted with a slew of material from Luke, Nicola, and the Bridgerton cast and, I must admit, those early interviews are some of the most entertaining of the tour. In the very beginning, Nicola appeared as the utmost professional – charming, intelligent, and witty at the right moments – and Luke played her likeable counterpart to “Book Colin” perfection – bouncing between being awkwardly boyish and wickedly roguish, all while looking at Nicola like she had just served him homemade peanut butter crumble.

The two of them together, playing off each other, in my opinion, was better than Bridgerton Season 3 (you cannot beat the World Tour being 99% Luke and Nicola, with only a few random side characters taking up screentime). There was some major “Electric Love” radiating from those two throughout the tour, but it seemed very much heightened in the beginning (probably because they hadn’t yet answered the same question 67 times). By the way, if you haven’t heard that song by Børns, go have a listen. It will, at the very least – hopefully – put you in an upbeat mood for the day.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes – was there a change in behavior between Luke and Nicola when they reached Italy?

Absolutely.

Do I know why?

Absolutely not.

Perhaps Luke was bent because someone spilled his coffee, or Nicola was upset because her stylist made her to wear that little silver bow in her hair. In my opinion, the most intriguing part of Day 1 of the Italy press junket was that Luke and Nicola struggled with answering the question, “What is love?” I swear they both babbled on like two kids in debate class who hadn’t bothered to read the material given to them before taking their respective podiums. They finally seemed to settle on Luke’s “Maybe it’s, like, connection.” Well, they seemed to be missing the “connection” that day.

Honestly, no one can explain their “don’t stand so close to me” vibe during those first day interviews except Luke and Nicola. But, we can at least have some fun and speculate about it with a bird’s eye view. At this point, you should know that I love spreading the puzzle pieces out and seeing how they might all connect. Most people – when putting a puzzle together – start with the side pieces, right? You’ll get my joke in a moment (I hope).

In March 2024 – I don’t know the specific date because my timeline is rather murky going back that far (I was unaware Lukola even existed!) – Luke traveled to Los Angeles for a photo spread with InStyle magazine. I’ve heard two versions of this story. The first being that Luke traveled to Los Angeles with Antonia alone; the second being that he traveled to Los Angeles with his friend group, which included Antonia. I couldn’t tell you which is true, and it really doesn’t matter because it doesn’t necessarily add or take away from today’s story.

Before I get started, I wanted to give a “hurrah” to The-One-Whose-Group-Chat-Fills-in-Lots-of-Missing-Bits-for-Me-Including-the-Part-Where-Video-Footage-of-Antonia-in-Los-Angeles-Seemed-to-Indicate-a-Celebrity-Was-Not-the-Videographer-and-There-Were-So-Many-British-Accents-in-the-Background-One-Would-Fancy-a-Guess-She-was-Traveling-with-a-Group.

Moving along…

On April 7, 2024, Antonia posted a series of photographs and clips to her Instagram grid indicating she had been in Los Angeles, including one where she was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory and one where she was sitting at a table marked with the number “95.” On April 14, she posted a second set of photographs, tagging her location as Beverly Hills, California and using “End of Beginning” as her audio (yes, I side-eyed this choice of music so don’t feel bad if you did as well). The second photo dump included her lounging on a rooftop.

I’m not going to delve into posts made by Luke and Nicola during that timeframe. I mean, I’m sure Nicola’s comment, “’Friends’…sure Jan,” on Luke’s April 11 reshared post about Bridgerton Season 3 was only meant to be applicable to Polin. And, if Luke wanted to use yellow and black hearts to represent the colors Nicola and he were wearing in his April 12 post, that’s cool, too. And, I am definitely not going to speculate on Nicola’s April 15 post (for Big Mood) that Luke liked, and she captioned, “I will bite off anything that dangles.”

By April 21, Luke and Nicola were in Australia at the World Premiere of Bridgerton. I am only going to provide a quick overview of Australia instead of a full-fledged recital because, at some point, I will almost certainly dedicate an entry to this country. Let’s start with Luke pulling off the hottest walk-up in Netflix human history (I mean, have you watched it in slow motion?). Then, we had the hard launch of the handholding business (because why again?). And, we had Luke tripping over his words, “We’re very, like, giving…I’m not talking about those scenes…” Oh, and Nicola telling an interviewer that, “[y]ou can’t keep a good girl down,” and, in response, Luke’s lips curling into a wicked-ass Cheshire cat's. We had them in the garden, with Nicola bending down to hug Luke after she had scratched/hit/petted his head. Perhaps I should not mention the possibility of a man’s shirt being visible on a bed behind Nicola (I said possibility not that it was). And, Nicola telling Luke, “You’re the funnier one,” when he was concerned that perhaps Benedict was funnier than Colin. Then we had the “Nicola-in-the-green-dress” day where, as they were going down the steps, Luke seemed to instinctively reach for Nicola’s hand, but she played it cool and took his arm instead. Oh, and that entire “green dress” day in general (I mean, there was so much shit going on that day). And, best we do not forget Nicola saying, “the best foundation for love is friendship,” which mirrored the bracelet “someone…in Australia” gave Luke that read, “Do you believe the best foundation for love is friendship?” Because that’s not suspicious at all. Alright, let’s get the fuck out of Australia – but not before I mention Nicola commenting on Luke’s April 27 Instagram post with “Ready for the next?” and Luke replying, “Absolutely.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, their shenanigans in Australia expanded the USS Lukola tenfold.

Oh, also, let me throw this in here because, if you are a “ring truther,” this fact plays a significant role in the Lukola timeline. If you do not know what a “ring truther” is, that’s perfectly fine. You can catch up by reading Entry 6 (The One Where I Explained the Claddagh Ring to My Dad) of my blog. I mentioned in Entry 6 that some Lukola sleuths have stated the metadata they pulled from the sketches of the Claddagh ring uploaded by Chupi indicate they were done as early as April 26. In other words, it means the Claddagh was likely commissioned between Australia and Italy. In fact, if we are to believe Chupi when it said it took four weeks to make the ring, then it had to have been commissioned by May 9, 2024, at the latest. Oh, lookie there, that’s Day 1 of the Italy interviews.

But, before we get to May 9, let’s pause on April 29. That was the day Luke’s InStyle spread was published – yes, the one I mentioned earlier. Luke has pictures from this photoshoot still on his Instagram grid – in fact, Nicola commented, “Yess dude!!” on them – but those aren’t the pictures I want to talk about. No, I want to talk about the pictures InStyle posted on its Instagram grid that day. These photographs came directly from Luke, which was confirmed by the InStyle article when it said, “…the actor delighted the InStyle team by delivering the polaroid photos he’d taken for this story tucked oh-so-carefully in a little brown bag for safekeeping.” The pictures Luke provided, among others, included one where he was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles; one where he was sitting at a table marked with the number “95;” and one where he is sitting in a lounge chair on a rooftop. If you want to see the pictures, InStyle still has them available – you just need to go through hundreds of posts to find them. Luke did not like this InStyle post, which was kind of odd because he was tagged in it, and they were reportedly his pictures.

Why did these InStyle polaroids seem so familiar?

Oh, that’s right, because they were.

Remember that April 7 post of Antonia’s I mentioned a bit ago? Yeah, the one where Antonia posted a bunch of random pictures from Los Angeles and – only after InStyle posted Luke’s polaroids – fans realized Antonia had preemptively posted her version of some of Luke’s polaroids.

I am not going to speculate too much about these pictures or their implications in this blog post, but these pictures may resurface in future posts because I find myself side-eyeing the fact they even exist. And, we should probably accept that Luke was aware of them before his pictures came out on April 29 because he threw a like on Antonia’s April 7 post. Could it have been a “blind” like? Sure, I guess, but the logical side of my brain says he probably looked through them at the time she posted. Let’s not worry too much about it right now, though.

After trying to write out my “general” opinion about the pictures several times, I finally decided that the best way I could articulate my thoughts was through the conversation I had with my father. Yes, Dear Dad returns again for another insightful Q&A.

I started by showing Luke and Antonia’s three “matchy” pictures to my dad and then asked him to compare them. To be clear, the pictures were their respective Griffith Observatory, Table 95, and Rooftop Lounging pictures.

Me: “So what do you think?”

Dad: “About what?”

Me: “Ugh! Why did Antonia take those pictures?”

Dad: “Well, to show she’s part of the ‘in’ crowd. The only reason I can see them being taken is if she was going to put them on the Internet.”

Me: “Uhh, as a matter of fact, she did put them on the Internet! Approximately three weeks before Luke’s were published.”

Dad: “See! I’m not as dumb as you think.”

Me: “Whatever. So, you really believe that? She took them to show people that she was, like, there?”

Dad: “Yeah. Why else would she take them? They’re not the kind of photos you’d take normally. What’s she going to do, put them in an album and show her friends in five years and say, ‘Look, I sat in Luke’s chair?’ Who does that? Nobody. Plus, Luke’s pictures look like they were taken with a polaroid camera and Antonia took hers with, I guess, a phone. Why use two different cameras? Again, it doesn’t make sense. Seems to me like she knew what pictures he was taking, and she was trying to copy them so she could put them on the Internet.”

Thanks, Dad.

You do not have to accept my father’s thoughts on the photographs. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. However, I think we can meet in the middle and opine that, at a minimum, Antonia’s pictures caused the weak Lukolas to jump overboard; at most, they gave some people stalker vibes; and somewhere in between, they introduced Antonia's negative influence over the fandom and what some may consider trolling behavior (even if it wasn’t recognized then).

Now, before we land in Italy on May 9, let’s summarize what has happened during the preceding two months.

First, we had Luke traveling to Los Angeles in March with Antonia, either alone or as part of a friend group. Luke had pictures of himself taken while there.

Second, we had Antonia posting pictures in early April that would be linked directly to Luke’s pictures by the end of the month.

Third, throughout the month of April, we had Luke and Nicola traveling together for the World Tour. We have all seen these interviews, and we have all formed independent opinions about them.

Fourth, based on Chupi’s own words, we know the Claddagh ring must have been commissioned no later than May 9.

Okay, now we’ve reached May 9, Day 1 of the Italy press junket.

Besides the press interviews, what happened on that day?

Well, Antonia reposted Luke singing Coldplay’s “Yellow” to her TikTok account.

Uhh… Huh. Interesting.

I mean, it’s possible that this was just a coincidence and she just liked Luke’s version of it. Or, it’s possible Antonia knew that “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song and she anticipated trolling Nicola and/or the fandom with it. But, if we believe she knew “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song, that means either Luke told her, or someone with that knowledge told her (i.e., someone from Luke’s team or family/friend group). We also know that Luke mentioned this song in the May 16, 2022 Netflix Tudum article when Nicola and he were asked about their song choices for Season 3. Luke stated his frontrunner was “Yellow” by Coldplay “because of Penelope’s dresses.” Regardless of why Antonia posted the song, I find it hard to imagine Netflix, Bridgerton, Shondaland, Nicola, or Luke were too impressed by Antonia resharing it on TikTok. I mean, at this point, Netflix & Co. would surely have been aware that Antonia’s “copycat post” went over with the fandom like a wet blanket in December in Canada. I imagine some questions were being asked and Luke may very well have received a hand slap from Corporate – and maybe even from Nicola.

But, that’s not the only thing that happened on May 9.

Luke posted his Homme magazine spread to his Instagram grid on that day, too. He captioned the post, “Chatting through all things S3 with @hommeplusmag [o]ut next week x.” Nicola commented, “Yessss,” and Luke tagged his post with the location of Hackney, London. That last part – about Luke tagging the location in Hackney – apparently sent the fandom into a deep-dive of…Nicola’s backyard. Why? Because Nicola lives in Hackney (Nicola herself confirmed she lived in Hackney in a March 18, 2024 interview with Derry Now), and rumors started to circulate that Luke’s pictures were taken at her home.

Hmm, I didn’t realize May 9 was such a busy day, did you?

So, which came first – the chicken or the egg? Did Antonia repost “Yellow” to her TikTok before Luke posted his Homme in Hackney images to Instagram, or vice versa? I’m sure someone out there has this information. The answer might help shine some light as to why Luke and Nicola seemed “off” in the early part of their Day 1 Italy interviews. But, then again, does the order really matter? Regardless of who posted first, it would seem to me that “Yellow” was a very possible culprit for the different energy on set that day.

That, or Luke really was peeved over someone spilling his coffee.

[postracehair]

say again

george russell x reader | 3.9k

three times george curses. or, a beginning, a middle, and a future.

cw: george cursing. a few scrapes and a little bit of blood, some kissing, and a love confession to boot.

a/n: this kind of ran away from me, especially in the middle but every time george russell says fuck an angel gets its wings. written ages ago but posting in honor of Las Vegas.

---

YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME

The door buzzes and you let yourself into the building.

You've only been here a few times, but a match day spent with your coworker and some of her friends is better than sitting on your couch alone, right? Wine and cookies in hand, you trudge up two flights of stairs to her flat. By the time you reach the landing, you can already hear the chatter and the TV.

No one seems to hear your knock so you push the door open and gingerly step in. The kitchen is on the other side of the flat, and you assume everyone is somewhere between there and the television.

But when you pass the living room where the TV actually is, there's just one guy on the couch. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees watching a penalty get called.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he says to no one.

You snicker. He whirls around. "Hello," you say.

"Sorry," he says, standing immedietly. Wow, he's tall. "Sorry, hello."

Oh, and he's familiar. You know him, kind of. He's -- god, he races cars, right? Shit, what is his name? Your coworker has social connections you barely understand so it's not really a surprise to find someone who is probably famous in her flat.

"It is just you, then?" you ask. He laughs and runs a hand through his hair. Dressed in jeans and a team jumper, his casual outfit is at odds with the severe cut of his jaw, his cheekbones. He just looks expensive.

"No," he says. "No, everyone is putting plates together. I'm afraid I might be the one most interested in watching the match."

"Not going well?" you say lightly.

He rounds the sofa, hand out. "Could be better," he says. "I'm George."

You readjust the items in your hands to shake his and tell him your name. He repeats it, and you smile.

"Let me go put these down," you say, "and then, um. Do you want some company, George?"

Honestly, you're not sure where that came from. But, though you came here to escape the smothering loneliness of your own flat, something about him makes you want to stay here rather than go into the kitchen with everyone else.

"'Course I do," he says. "I promise to tighten up my language. Won't do for that to be my first impression."

You wave him away though your cheeks feel a little hot and head for the kitchen.

Your coworker brightens at seeing you and takes your hostess gifts with ease.

"The match is on in the other room," she tells you, "but most of us are drinking in here."

"I saw," you say. "I met George."

She hears something in your tone that turns her expression something between amused and calculating. "You did, did you?"

You just nod, loading up a plate with the various nibbles. "How do you know him, anyway?"

She shrugs. "Oh, you know." No, you don't, but she plows on. "What did you think?"

"Taller than he seems on TV," you mutter. "But very polite. He shook my hand."

That gets her to laugh. "Oh, of course he did. Well, don't stand around in here with us. Go chat up a Formula 1 driver!"

George is back on the couch when you return, arm stretched over the back of it, brows furrowed.

"Has anything exciting happened?" you ask him, sitting down with a perfectly responsible distance between you.

He grimaces. "Nothing good. Wolverhampton, bless 'em, are quite bad."

That might explain why no one is watching this match with him, but you keep that to yourself.

"I see," you say, solemnly. "But loyalty is loyalty, I suppose, if they're your club."

"Exactly," George says. "It's suffering but it has to be done." Someone on the screen triggers a free kick and George leans in until it's over. He starts talking about one of the players being traded, or his contract being renegotiated, or something. You nibble on your plate and just watch. He's animated, this man. Fringe falling over his forehead the more he gestures, blue eyes wide and serious. It's all very endearing.

"Sorry," he says suddenly. "I'm being so rude. You don't want to hear about all of this, do you?"

You smile at him. "I don't mind. I came over for some company more than anything else."

He sinks back into the couch a little, hand running through his hair again. "Well, lucky for me that you did," he says.

Your face feels hot and you don't want to mistake this for flirting if it's not. He is a world-famous athlete, after all, but here you are on the couch next to him. "Lucky for you, indeed."

He laughs, delighted.

OH, SHIT!

This is not how you saw your life going, but maybe that's just the nature of it. Big moments happen just the same as small ones and we have to handle them regardless. The trajectory of your life shifted just a little bit when you sat down on someone else's couch to watch a football match with a stranger.

Because that stranger -- George -- is now much more than that. He asked for your number that day before he had to leave earlier than everyone else, and has been speaking to you ever since. Texts, phone calls, FaceTimes. And, when he's not driving hundreds of miles an hour halfway across the world, he likes to spend time with you.

They're dates, you know they are. But things are still casual, immensely so. Coffee, dinner, long walks through the park. It's probably past due that you ask him what he'd like out of this, but your friends tell you to just have fun for the time being. You've learned a lot about him in the last month or so, both from him directly and by doing your research.

You'd watched a few Grand Prix before meeting him but not with any kind of rapt attention. Now, obviously, you watch with purpose. See him zip around the track, read his radio messages, hope desperately that he'll be alright. He's a big mix of things, George Russell. Witty but determined, thorough but reactionary, polite but intense. You want to keep getting to know him on a personal level and measure that up to how he appears to the world.

Today, you're on one of those long walks. George is recounting the last race at your request. It's always more interesting to hear him talk about what happened than watching it, though you're really growing to love that part, too.

It's a bit chilly and he's got a scarf on in addition to a nondescript hat pulled down low over his eyes. You're used to this by now, though you wish you could see his face more fully.

"And then -- well, I'm sure you saw this bit -- he turned right into me like I wasn't even there!"

"But you avoided it," you remind him. "I saw that, too." A cold wind blows down the path and you shiver a bit.

"You alright?" he asks. "Nippy, huh?" He stops walking and turns to you, his huge hands coming to rest on your shoulders before he rubs them up and down your arms.

"A bit," you agree, a little breathless. God, you really need to talk to him about what this is. You're thinking about him all the time, which is a bit of a nuisance, as you're not sure he's feeling the same. But, a small voice in your head tells you, you can't be too far off in thinking that it might be based on the way he's looking at you right now.

Even under the cap, you can see the soft set of his brow, the way his eyes are shining. The gentle quirk up of his mouth. What would it be like to kiss him? Would he let you?

George stops his warming efforts, catching your hands in his. "Better?"

All you can do is nod. He grins, looking a bit too pleased, and starts walking again, you in tow. This is something else you've learned about him -- he really can be a cheeky bastard. He must have more than some idea as to how he affects you and enjoys it. It's somewhere between a game and a challenge.

You're thinking about ways you can get him back, ways you can flirt mercilessly. His hand is in yours and he's half a step ahead of you when suddenly your fingers are ripped from his and you find yourself on your hands and knees with a gasp.

George is immediately there with you.

"Oh, shit," he says. "Are you alright?"

"I--" You're a bit too stunned to say anything. George rarely curses, which is funny given how you met, but it unsettles you a little bit as much as it warms you. "I think I tripped?"

"Let me see your hands," he says, gently tugging at your wrists with his long fingers. He sucks on his teeth when he sees your palms. "Not too bad, but a little scratched."

You rearrange yourself so you're flat on your bum, legs in front of you. Your hands might be alright but your knees are another story. The fabric of your jeans isn't ripped but you can see the bloodstains already.

"Oh," you say. You look up at George, feeling a bit pathetic. "This is embarrassing."

He scoffs. "No, it's not," he says. "I do think we should get you cleaned up, though."

"We can go to my place," you suggest. The sting sets in a little more, but mingles with your chagrin and you just set your jaw. "Help me up?"

"Brave girl," George says. He presses his lips to the base of your wrist and stands, tugging you up as he goes. "Have you got first aid things at your flat?"

You nod, running through the contents of your bathroom in your mind. It occurs to you that George has not been to your place before, and you did not mentally prepare yourself to bring him there today.

George gently says your name. "Let's get a cab, shall we?"

It takes no time at all to flag one down. George removes his hat in what you can clearly see as an effort to get the cabbie to hurry along a bit, but it seems to work. He takes one look at you, one more at George, and steps on it.

"Let me get your belt," George mutters, making quick work of the buckle.

"I don't think I've ever worn a seatbelt in a cab in my life, George," you reply. He just pats your thigh.

"Think we've had enough injuries for one day, don't you?"

George and the cabbie chat about the race season, about how hot it really is in Singapore, about one of George's recent podiums. He keeps you tucked into his side the whole time -- he's ignored his own seatbelt, you notice -- hand on your thigh. You keep your palms turned up on your knees and wonder how on earth you got here.

The city flies by and you lean your head on his shoulder. You can feel something shifting between you, something clicking into place that wasn't entirely settled before. It's scary, it's exciting, it's big. It's something you're going to have to talk about.

George pays the driver in some large bills and helps you out of the cab and up the steps of your building.

"Where are your keys?" he asks.

"Front right pocket of my jeans."

"Pardon my reach," he jokes, and lightly rests on palm on your hip and slides the other into your pocket to find them. He tugs the keyring out and winks at you before unlocking the door. Up the stairs, into the flat. Shoes toed off, coats on the hook after George helps you out of yours.

"I'm not an invalid, you know," you tell him. He clicks his tongue.

"We don't want blood on this nice coat of yours, do we?"

You roll your eyes. George glances around your flat and smiles. "This is very you."

Dishes on the counter, the pillows a mess on the couch, your books and trinkets on every flat surface -- you suppose he's right.

"Thank you?" you say. He taps your chin with his knuckle.

"It feels like a home, I mean." Your cheeks feel warm and your heart sighs. God, the things he says.

"Oh," you breathe. "That's kind."

"And does this home have a first aid kit?" The reminder brings the dull sting of your scraped skin back to the forefront of your mind.

"Bathroom cabinet," you tell him. George nods.

"I'll get that. Why don't you change into something loose so I can get to your knees?"

In your room, you tug carefully tug on some sweatpants, mindful of your palms, and let yourself marvel at how today has gone. You expected to have George here someday, but certainly not like this. Will he want to see your bedroom? You shove some dirty laundry into the hamper and thank past you for making the bed this morning.

"I think you should sit on the counter," George calls. "Whenever you're ready."

You pad out to meet him in socked feet. It's quite the sight, him in your kitchen. He's bent over your sink, washing his hands. His sweater has been tossed over a chair and you can see the lines of his back under his t-shirt.

"Do you need help getting up?" he asks. You nod. Together, you get yourself on the counter, making you about eye level.

"Hello," you say. His hat is gone, too, so his fringe falls across his forehead in slightly curled strands. When you've cleaned yourself up, maybe you'll work up the courage to run your hand through them.

"Hello yourself. Right hand, please." You hold out your palm and George gets to work. He cleans it, getting all the bits from your skin, and then uses an alcohol wipe.

"Do you have a special interest in first aid, or something?" you ask to distract yourself from the sting. His thumb strokes your pulse point as he works.

"I guess you get beat up a bit in karting when you're young," he says. He wraps one palm in gauze and moves onto the other. "I suppose i just like knowing how to take care of people."

"God," you groan. "Is there anything wrong with you?"

He looks at you then, hair falling into his blue, blue eyes. "Oh," he smirks. "Plenty, darling." He finishes up on your other palm and holds it in his for a moment longer than you expect. Then he slowly brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the bandage.

You might gasp, You're not entirely sure, eyes glued to his lips like nothing else exists. Then he kisses the other palm. Your gaze flicks up and George is looking right at you.

"Knees," he says, voice a little hoarse. "Alright?"

"Alright," you breathe. You stick one leg out just to see what he'll do. You're learning that he rises to the occasion, and that's exactly what happens. He cups your ankle, places your foot on his thigh, and slides your sweatpants up above your joint.

"That's gnarly," he says, breaking the tension. You laugh and tap his leg with your other foot. "You ready?"

"I'm ready."

He makes quick work on it. One hand on your calf, the other gently cleaning and bandaging. The silence is comfortable, familiar, though you've not been in this situation before. It's not until George is almost done with your other knee that he speaks.

"You know," He says, lightly. "If you wanted me to touch you, all you had to do was ask. The tripping wasn't entirely necessary."

"George!" you gasp. He squeezes your calf.

"I'm just saying, darling."

He ties off the gauze and rolls down your pant leg. You widen your knees and he steps between them immediately, hands resting gently on your thighs. It's absolutely electric -- going from shy, appropriate touches to being in your flat together, his hands all over you. How are you going to go back?

Maybe you can't.

George's eyes rake over your face. You inhale his exhales, feeling them on your lips. His pupils dilate.

"What is this, George?" you whisper. His fingers press into your thighs a little harder.

"Well," he says, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "What would you like it to be?"

"I don't know," you say, honestly. He is not dissuaded, does not back away. He must know that this is hard for you -- his life is so different from yours. As it is, you avoid social media so you don't see pictures of you splashed across gossip accounts. It's impossible to totally stay away from it but you try, because you really like being with him.

"Shall I tell you what it is for me?" George says.

You nod.

He cups your face in his hands, thumbs stroking the delicate skin under your eyes.

"Every second I am not with you I am thinking about when I'll see you next," he says. "I store up things to tell you and take photos to show you and I have a bag full of things I've bought you but been too afraid to give you. Beautiful things, things that remind me of you."

"George--"

"I worry about fucking up your life," he continues, and you fall silent. "This is a lot. I am a lot. My life is not simple, and you've already seen that. But I want you in it. I want you in it however you want to be there, though I have my suggestions. I promise that if you let me, I'll treat you so well, because you deserve everything, and --"

Your heart is going to explode if he goes on any longer, so you close the gap between you and kiss him. Finally.

It's just the press of your lips against his for a few seconds, your eyes fluttering shut, before George catches up to what's happening and angles your faces a little bit to make it deeper. Your bandaged hands rest on his elbows and you swallow a sound from deep in his throat, something that lights a fire in your belly.

"Blimey," George says, leaning your foreheads together.

"What, no curse for me?"

His eyes sparkle and he wrinkles his nose at you. "Fuck," he says. "I've been thinking about that for weeks."

You press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "That's more like it."

BLOODY HELL

What the fuck was that? Is he serious? Keep focused, George. This is fucking ridiculous. Head down.

It's a bad day. Not as bad as it could be -- George does not end up in the wall. But he ends up way further down the pack than he should, barely scraping together a few points. It's the car and everyone knows it. The bouncing, the drag, the understeer. A showing far too poor for this late in the season.

And George is pissed. It's not often that you see him this way -- he's fairly levelheaded, even when things get tough. Something about him causes conflict to lull, things to fall into place, but even that can't fix the silver arrow.

You slip out of the garage during the last lap to sit in his driver's room and wait.

This isn't your first race. Far from it, by now. Things got official halfway through the season after that day in your flat, and you've been coming to as many as you can. It's a rush, really, to see him work. Scarier than anything, but when it's good? It's amazing. You love the energy of the garage and everyone seems to have taken to you, too.

So much so that they know to send George right to his room before the media pen so you can calm him down.

You sit on the bench and wait.

He comes in, closing the door firmly but never slamming it, and sighs. All the tension melts from his body and he looks defeated. Sweaty, annoyed, and defeated.

"Hello," you say, lightly.

He smiles wryly. "Shit day, huh?"

You love how George looks after a race. Hair a mess from his helmet, skin beaded with sweat. He unzips his race suit and lets it hang at his hips and you can see the outline of his muscles through his fireproofs. It's genuinely swoonworthy, even with his visibly bad mood.

"Are you alright?" you ask. He shrugs, rolls his shoulders, and winces.

"Bloody hell," he curses. "My back is killing me."

"What can I do?"

"Nothing," he says automatically. "You're perfect just as you are."

It's a reflex he has -- not to ask for things. You're still working it out, poking and prodding to find the cracks. Maybe, with time, he'll loosen this grip he has on his desire to make your life as comfortable and wonderful as possible without thinking of himself. There are moments when it's best to just let him fuss, but right now you think you can push back a little.

"George," you sigh. "Come on."

He hides his face behind a sweat towel for a breath, then tosses it aside. "Alright," he says. "Just sit with me for a bit."

You scoot over on the bench and he flops next to you, head back against the wall and eyes closed. His hand fumbles around for yours, pinching your thigh when he overshoots, which makes you laugh. He cracks a smile and opens one eye just enough to see your grin before settling back into his rest.

He breathes deeply, fingers entwined with yours. The line of his jaw is pronounced in the awful lighting of the room and the shadows under his eyes look worse than usual. A few more races and then he can rest. What will you do in the off season? Maybe a vacation. Hopefully a vacation. You imagine George in swim trunks on a beach somewhere, dozing in the sand. Rubbing sun tan lotion on his back and his shoulders and his nose, reading books for hours until he convinces you to run into the water. Lazy days on a balcony or in a bed with all the windows open, never being far from each other --

Someone knocks on the door.

"Christ," George mutters. "Let's ignore it."

"You need to go to the pen, darling," you whisper back. He squeezes your hand and presses your legs together.

"Just a few more minutes," he says. "Eventually they'll just come in."

"If you say so."

You press a kiss to his tacky cheek and lean your head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

George takes a deep breath. "I love you," he says.

The words stretch into the silence that comes after, the moments it takes for you to process it. They fill the small room, sneak their way into your bloodstream, your lungs, all the way to your heart.

Part of you is waiting for the follow-up. I know it's too early, I know it's a lot, You don't have you say it back. But George doesn't deal in excuses. He feels it, so he says it.

You lift your head to look at him and find him already staring at you. Not expectant, just looking to look.

"I love you, George," you say.

He grins bigger than you've ever seen, bigger than after your first kiss, than the days when he's on the podium.

Someone knocks on the door again.

"Oh, piss off," he mutters and leans in to kiss you.

[phyrestartr]

Deal With It | Gojo Satoru x M!Reader (TEASER)

CW: Arranged marriage, SELF-HARM (on and off-screen), hurt/comfort, angst, drama, self-loathing, blood and gore, implied depression, suicidal thoughts, suicidal ideation #NSFW, probably top Gojo, probably bottom reader, maybe switch idk, idek if they'll bang it out tbh lol, angst with a happy ending, reader is a sorcerer, time skips, time progression, relationship development, student era into teacher era Note: I got this request to make a story revolving around Gojo and an arranged marriage to the reader (but bro is in love with Getou sob.gif), and I've been RUMINATING on it for forever. I think I finally have a good idea of who the reader is/what their chemistry is like with Gojo, so I'm happy to post a wee bit of a teaser to motivate myself! Let me know your thoughts---I'm finding that I absolutely love writing for Gojo, so I'm down to write more LOL. He's a very fun, complex character.

Deal With It

“So, you really don’t care what he thinks?” Shoko asked as you lit her cigarette. “Even I think he was kinda harsh.”

You pocketed your lighter and leaned back against the cold stone of the college walls. “He’s got a thing for that black-haired guy.”

“Getou.” 

“Sure.” You shrugged and tried to rub the ache out of your neck as you stared up at the bleak, grey skies. The air reeked of petrichor. Thankfully you’d brought an umbrella that day. 

“And you’re not bothered he’s in love with Getou?” Your friend continued, her cute bobbed haircut swaying with the tilt of her head. She always looked so charming like that, when she was being a mischievous brat while pretending to be anything but. 

“Dunno.” And that was the truth. “He’s not even my type. I’d rather hitch up with someone like you or Nanami. Someone less annoying. Less loud-mouthed.” 

“Ooh, that'll hurt his ego.” Shoko smiled. “Well, guess you'll have to learn to deal with it.”

You took a deep breath and rubbed your face as you nodded. “Yeah.”

–

“Forever is a long time,” You mumbled, leaning your forehead against the cool touch of the window. Rain pittered and pattered, exploding off the glass like trillions of kamikaze planes. It almost birthed some sort of hurt in your chest. Best not to dwell on it, you decided.

“Hah? Are you talking to yourself again like a weirdo?” The one and only Gojo Satoru yowled before kicking you in the rear like a petulant child. “Pft! Figures. Knowing my luck, I would have to get married to a creeper.” 

“Even if you married Getou, you'd still be marrying a creep,” you grumbled, dusting the dirt off your behind. “You need something? Or did you harass me just for the fun of it.” 

You heard Gojo, your fiancé, scoff and shuffle behind you. “I just wanted to remind you to humble yourself! Just because I'm forced to marry you doesn't mean you're accomplished or cool or anything, got it?” 

Being in his presence had you craving a cigarette. “Yeah, got it.” 

“And Suguru's better than you,” he added, aloof voice bowing down beneath hardened, steeled words. “Don't forget that either.” 

You bit down on your cheek to ward away the heat building under your skin, the magma sinking deep into your eyesockets and threatening to pour down your esophagus. The taste of iron washed against your tongue, and you released your flesh from between your molars. Sometimes, you wanted to keep boring down on yourself to see how much you could really take, but a fear of the answer too often made you think twice. 

“This is starting to bore me,” you said, tilting your head as you caught a flicker of red in your rain-muddied reflection. You touched your fingers to your tongue and found translucent red coating the tips. 

“Pah. I was gonna say the same!” You watched his reflection turn away. “Good luck trying to impress me.” 

I'm not interested. You watched him walk away, slouching and with his hands in his pockets like he was emulating some kind of yankii character. He might have fit the bill, if he hadn't had such a ridiculous, brat side to him. Just deal with it. You wiped the red on your uniform with a sigh. Tomorrow's a new day.

--

Feel free to comment on this post if you want to be tagged for the full version!

@kamote-kuneho @tr4nnie @silvern1006

[saucyexe]

Imagine:Lab Partner Viktor.

Lab partner Viktor: who is already not delighted about the project but he’s definitely not excited about being paired up and sitting next to somebody he doesn’t even know.

Lab partner Viktor: when you first meet him and exchange numbers for then project proceeds to leave your message asking when you should meet up on read for hours. Only to respond at 2:37 am with, tomorrow.

Lab partner Viktor: who ignores your entry to the study hall and your wave until you are standing right next to him, Hi Viktor I’m happy we were able to work tod-, I think I should do the research and you should do the slides.

Lab partner Viktor: who looks at you so plainly as if he didn’t just basically call you stupid. Where does he find the nerve? Sure he may be top of the class but that doesn’t mean you’re an idiot! You almost wanted to slap him then and there but you kept your cool, deciding it wasn’t even worth it. Sure viktor, that sounds delightful.God he looked so smug.

Lab partner Viktor: who meets up with you several more times, not understanding why you were so interested in every tiny detail about him, you might as well being asking for his diet as well. He shuts you down of course giving short blunt responses

Lab partner Viktor: who can’t understand why his mind is plagued with the thought of you, of your smell, your hair, the swell of your hips as you walked, the arch of your back as you leaned over the table, and the curve of your smile when he said something you thought was funny. His mind was filled with thoughts of you, and his body was filled with reactions to these thoughts.

Lab partner Viktor: who thinks if he just throws himself into the project and ignores your presence, that it will all go away, so he does. He works and works and yet all he can think about is you.

Lab partner Viktor: who decides it’s time to finally own up to it, so he decides to text you and see what you’re doing.

Viktor stared at the phone in his hand, he had proof read the message multiple times; no spelling errors or grammar mistakes, and yet he struggled to press send. His lips held firm in a straight line, he was an inventor who had overcome so much in his life, he could message one pretty girl, so he did. As his finger finally pressed the send button he reread the message, Would you be able to meet up tomorrow? He clicked his phone off and set it down on his nightstand as he played back in bed when his phone started to ring. He picked it up to see it was your contact, he definitely wasn’t expecting you to answer immediately, he picked up the phone and pressed it to his ear,

Hello?, he was meet with a weird clapping noise until he heard a man’s voice

Why are you texting her? Are you her boyfriend or something? The unknown voice said.

No, I’m sorry who is this?

The voice chuckled, I’m the man that’s balls deep in your girl friend right now.

Viktor jaw dropped, balls deep? Were you being? It all made sense, the clapping noise. God, you were being fucked right now.

He heard a shuffling sound as the man spoke up.

Tell him how much you love it. A woman’s voice, you spoke up. I-I love it. A pornographic moan followed after which viktor quickly hung up.

He placed his phone on his bedside table as he tried to relax, his raging boner noticeable under his sheets. God, why did that turn him on so much. You sounded so blissed out he could imagine that your face was probably in the pillows as you arched up. His hand traveled to his pants as he continued to think.

Your lips were probably parted and your face tear stained. Your hair snarled from being tugged on and your ass read from being slapped. He could imagine the way your mewls and moans would get louder as the thrust got deeper and quicker , his strokes getting faster, and faster. Your little pleas the way you would say his name when you cum. He groaned as he imagined the way your body would convulse as your released wrecked through you, his own releases coming causing him to spill onto his hand with your name on his lips.

As he looked down at his cum stained hands his resolve hardened even more, he needed to talk to you tomorrow.

[sitp-recs]

Hi Liv, I loved the hidden gem list that you did in the past. I discovered so many new authors thanks to you. I love going back to my all time favourite authors but I also love discovering new ones. Would you or any of your followers have any hidden gems recs ? Could be long or short fics. Thank youuuu

I’m so happy to hear that! The hidden gems series is very dear to my heart and probably my favorite project. I started a s2 back in 2022 and have a few lists saved in my drafts, maybe I will revisit them in the new year… we’ll see! I found some additional rec posts that might interest you here, here and here. I haven’t read much this year, but if you’re looking for new-ish works I’d highly recommend the fics below, and also my reclist for the h/c fest. I’m sure my followers have more recs. Enjoy! 💜

Train Song by @fw00shy (T, 1.2k)

"Imagine: An extended summer vacation," Ginny said when she first pitched the trip to the group. "Fine," Hermione said after only a moment's hesitation, to which everyone cheered, because everyone knew she was the only one who could figure out how to make the Hogwarts Express fly.

All I Think About by @skeptiquewrites (T, 4.5k)

Sometimes all it takes is one perfect late summer night in June.

mind the gap by @cavendishbutterfly (E, 5k) - MCD

The first time Draco died was by far the worst. Once Potter started living with him, it got better.

everything you should say by icarusinflight (E, 7.5k)

They're not friends. But when Draco offers help, Harry takes it.

Tarry, Tarry, Wait For Me by @toomuchplor (E, 8.5k)

"I can't ask it of you," Draco says, quick and awkward, "I just thought you should know, I thought you needed to know, but none of this is your fault."

Seasons by @greattemptation (E, 9k)

Seconds pass, and it’s like he can see Draco worrying the sliver of glass in his heart, looking for a way to press it out, to expose the wound to the sun. It’s life; Harry can be patient.

Necro-romance by @thehoneybeet (E, 9k)

The first time Draco kills Potter, it's by accident.

like a scratch on the roof of your mouth by @eleadore (E, 9k)

Two weeks into the new year, Draco Malfoy saves Ron's life in a spectacular fashion.

coyote ugly by @garagepaperback (E, 10k)

One night, every month, Harry is a coyote. Malfoy has a silver tooth. Sometimes, he cuts Harry’s hair.

draco malfoy's substitute murder service by @oknowkiss (E, 10k)

When Harry joins the Curse Breakers shortly after his twenty-fifth birthday, he’s surprised to find himself assigned to the Department of Creatures, Cryptids, and Associated Calamities.

When the Flood Comes by @academicdisasterfic (E, 10k)

Nine years on from the war, Auror Potter is upholding the Ministry of Magic's rule of law. Senior legal counsel Draco Malfoy is challenging it.

Wobble Week 2023 by @moonflower-rose (E, 12k)

Potter can't keep his hands off himself. Draco can't look away.

With Hands Full of Dusk by @corvuscrowned (E, 15k)

Harry thought he'd found what he was searching for after the war. But as the quiet life he's earned begins to unravel at the seams, he finds himself searching instead for an elusive, mythical creature found only in lore and legend - with none other than Draco Malfoy as his companion.

Rich Friend by @sorrybutblog (E, 18k)

As far as Harry can tell, Draco Malfoy is still rich as hell. He’s just not a wizard anymore. Featuring: Draco Malfoy trying to make it as a Muggle pop star, Harry Potter as our confused and horny hero, bad driving, good music, and the mysterious magic of falling for someone.

Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w, @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 22k)

'Twas the night before Christmas, although it’s July / Draco’s a shopkeeper, no-one knows why / There’s hiking and witch caves, freak snowfalls and more / Bad Christmas jumpers, nosy neighbours galore / Narcissa’s here too, but… something’s amiss / And what’s in those chocolates that’s making them kiss?

Sun Thief by BlackRose532, @floydig (E, 28k)

Or: Harry beats up a pimp and isn’t sorry about it, Draco deals black market potions, and they’re shagging. Again.

Truth to Materials by lately, @toomuchplor (E, 54k)

In which Harry learns to appreciate art and other pleasures of the flesh.

[pbelfz]

Two to One | 15 |

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader x Midoriya Chapter Title: Spilled Milk Chapter 14 | Chapter 16 Story Masterlist Summary: You are a simple college girl working at a cheap, back alley café! The top heroes, Deku and Ground Zero, visit your work in hopes of ordering coffee, but they pick something else up instead. You begin an interesting relationship with the pair, while slowly becoming aware of certain underhanded tactics they are using. Idolization isn't always that bad… Right?

WARNINGS: gaslighting, domestic violence, alcohol

“You’re WHAT?!”

Hana gaped back at (Y/n), trying to ensure she heard her correctly. (Y/n) smiled sadly at Hana.

“I just… got an opportunity elsewhere…,” she attempted to be vague. Hana didn’t look convinced.

“Please don’t tell me you’re starting an Only Fans.”

(Y/n) gawked. “No–! And even if I was…,” she made a face at Hana. Hana tutted.

“Please don’t tell me you’re starting an Only Fans without me,” she repeated, now laughing. The morning rush shift had slowed down to a nonexistent teeter. (Y/n) smiled at Hana’s comment as she cleaned one of the tables in the dining area of the quaint restaurant. Hana groaned, leaning back with her elbows on the countertop, her head tilting toward the ceiling.

“What am I gonna do without you here?!” Hana groaned at her best friend. (Y/n) announced that she put her two weeks in yesterday when Hana was off. Their manager flipped her shit, but Hana argued that she had it coming and that (Y/n) quitting should be the least of her worries. (Y/n) shrugged.

“I dunno. I’ll still stop by for some lattes. Give you guys some business with my big Only Fans money.”

Hana shook her head. “I’m gonna put my two weeks in tomorrow. Or I might just dip after today and not come back.” Hana’s curls bounced as she turned to check to make sure their manager was in the café backroom. Deep in the café backroom.

“You should stay for the chance of running into Shoto,” (Y/n) recommended, leaning on her elbows on the cashier counter. Katsuki and Izuku had been frequenting their café much more often lately, and she and Hana kid that it was only a matter of time before word of Sato’s traveled to Pro Hero Shoto. However, Hana still shook her head.

“What do you mean? We’re married. I see him every night. Work is my chance to get away from him!” She gave (Y/n) a coy smile. (Y/n) rolled her eyes, grinning, smacking Hana’s arm with a small hand towel.

“Shut up!”

Izuku and Katsuki threw themselves headfirst into their work, and (Y/n) shouldn’t have been surprised. It’s not like she expected things to change after she finally had sex, but she couldn’t help but feel as though the experience wasn’t as life-changing as it was all made out to be.

What was that feeling? That persistent nudging tug in the depths of her mind and gut, telling her that something more should be happening now, either between her, Izuku, and Katsuki or in her life? Disappointment? She lost her virginity to one of the most famous pro heroes in Japan, and the experience wasn’t anything less than euphoric. What was there to be disappointed about?

Maybe how neither Izuku nor Katsuki recognized (Y/n)’s perceived loss of innocence. (Y/n) considered bitterly whether there was even any innocence to ‘lose’, and why would having sex make her any less innocent? Was she dirty now? No, no. That’s not it. (Y/n) didn’t expect the heroes to celebrate or anything of that nature. That’d be rather disturbing. What was she expecting, though? Nothing ultimately changed after the intercourse. Not herself, not really. Not Katsuki. Not Izuku. What the hell even was virginity?

Did she want them to change? What more did she want to come from that experience?

“Izuku?” She called, sitting on the couch one night. It was late; Izuku had just gotten home from a 16-hour shift. (Y/n) never really knew if he and Katsuki chose to work that long willingly – their hours seemed flexible – but she did notice that Katsuki seemed to know his limits and take scheduled breaks throughout the day. She couldn’t say the same about Izuku.

“Yeah?” Izuku replied half-heartedly. He obviously didn’t want to speak to anybody right now. He was digging through the fridge, looking for leftovers to wolf down. (Y/n) was convinced that Katsuki was the only reason why Izuku remembered to even eat and shower or even take care of himself at all. Katsuki’s footsteps could be heard upstairs; he must’ve just gotten out of the shower himself.

“What’s virginity?” (Y/n) blurted obtusely.

The shuffling of plastic containers and cartons in the fridge stopped. Izuku stood upright.

“What?”          

He sounded incredulous. (Y/n) didn’t want to look at him because she was so ashamed of her question.

“What’s virginity?” She repeated, a little louder and snappier, in case he didn’t hear her. Izuku looked at the back of her head with a wild stare.

“(Y/n), I’m not–,“ Izuku was not in the mood for whatever she was talking about.

“And what’s the point of it?” (Y/n) continued. Izuku dragged a hand down his face.

“I’m not sure what answer you’re looking for,” he was blunt, more blunt than he cared to be. He was exhausted. He just wanted to eat something, go to bed and turn the world off, not deal with whatever emotional turmoil (Y/n) was feeling.

“I just… don’t feel any different,” (Y/n) pondered aloud, not caring if Izuku wanted to talk or not.

She heard the fridge door shut and footsteps approach. “Uh, good?” Izuku spoke with a mouth full of chicken, which he didn’t even bother to heat up. “It’d be weird if you felt different after having sex?” Izuku stared down at her oddly. (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

“That’s not what I mean. I mean there’s, like…,” she made vague gestures with her hands. “It’s like nothing even happened.”

Izuku was tired, and when Izuku was tired, it was like talking to a brick wall. He was just as stubborn as Katsuki, if not more. This conversation was going nowhere. He swallowed the food he was chewing and shook his head, shrugging.

“I don’t know what to say.”

(Y/n) sighed, frustrated. She got off the couch and stormed up the stairs. “Ugh. Forget it.”

Izuku made his way over to claim the spot on the couch she left, continuing to eat his food.

Okay. (Y/n) can admit that she was being a little fussy. She blew by Katsuki, who was bent over in the middle of the hall replacing his bath items into the closet, and retreated into the bedroom.

Katsuki’s hair was still damp from his shower. He blinked, watching as she disappeared into the bedroom but left the door wide open. Katsuki stared at the door for a minute before inhaling slowly and letting out a sigh. He stood, closed the closet, and rubbed the back of his neck as he hesitantly followed after (Y/n).

He stood in the doorway with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. (Y/n) was on the bed, scrolling on her phone, obviously upset. Katsuki was debating whether he should bite or turn and walk away. Whenever he or Izuku gets into a bad mood, they typically avoid each other lest it blow up in their faces. He didn’t know how this would turn out with (Y/n).

He’ll bite. (Y/n) was more sensitive than Deku. She needed different things than he did. Katsuki was still learning.

He shifted his weight, feeling stiff. “Something happen?”

“No,” came the sharp reply. Katsuki blinked, and his face soured. Katsuki hadn’t heard her use that tone with him before.

“What?” He snapped back.

(Y/n) didn’t look up at him, still scrolling on her phone. “I said, no, nothing happened.”

Katsuki stared at her. “Okay, but something obviously did? Your attitude is shit right now.”

(Y/n) shrugged and shook her head. “Your attitude is always shit. What, I’m not allowed to be upset about something?”

Katsuki threw his head back and closed his eyes. He took a breath. Calm down. “So, something did happen?”

(Y/n) groaned, rolling her eyes. “You guys just… practically ignore me!” She blurted. “You’re never here! I moved out of my apartment, I put my two weeks in at my job for you, and you guys don’t even seem grateful… My whole life is about to change…”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “Us? Grateful? We are paying your tuitionfor your shitty education. We are giving you free housing in one of the safest neighborhoods in Japan. We are giving you complete access to your own bank account with millions of yen already in it with no strings attached. If there’s anyone that should be grateful, I’m looking right at her.”

(Y/n) was teary-eyed at Katsuki’s harsh words. She yelled at him, “What if I was fine before all of that?!”

“Then leave!”

Izuku came up the stairs. He had dark circles under his eyes, and despite the argument, he didn’t appear urgent. “What’s going–“

“Go back to your shitty life. I don’t care,” Katsuki turned and disengaged, going downstairs and leaving (Y/n) crying on the bed.

Izuku could barely stand on two legs from exhaustion, but he relented the fact that Katsuki could handle himself. If there was anyone that needed to be pacified, it was (Y/n). He had to figure out how to settle all of this before the clock struck 1 AM so they could all get to bed peacefully.

He stepped further into the bedroom, staring with dead eyes at (Y/n) as she cried on their bed. He had to push himself to keep walking forward and to sit on the bed next to her. He waited silently for her to stop crying enough to look up at him.

Eventually, her sobs simmered, and she just sniffled. She rubbed her eyes, finally meeting Izuku’s gaze. This was the first time tonight that she really could see the exhaustion on his face, and she felt guilty for making tonight about her.

“What’s going on?” Izuku asks. His voice is calm and quiet, but she hears that tinge of something else – pity.

“I, uh…,” (Y/n) starts, now unsure why she’s upset. “I guess I’m just stressed. And worried. And scared.”

Izuku looked concerned. “About?”

(Y/n) sighed, wiping her eye. “I don’t know,” she paused for a moment. “Katsuki’s right. I should be grateful for all you guys have done for me… I don’t know why I’m feeling like this.”

Izuku glanced off into the hallway, probably trying to determine where Katsuki was in the house. “Are you… not happy here with us?”

(Y/n) instantly shifted to face him fully on the bed. “No, no! That’s not it at all. I’m very happy… It’s just… different.”

He stared at her. “It doesn’t sound like you’re happy. Or look like it, either.”

(Y/n) looked at him oddly, making a point to prevent any more tears from falling. “I am. I am.”

Izuku continued watching her. (Y/n)’s phone vibrated in her hands, and she glanced at it before turning it back over.

“Did we do something to upset you?” Izuku asked. (Y/n) shook her head.

“No, you guys didn’t do anything…,” her voice trailed off.

“We obviously did. What is it?” He could be just as forthright as Katsuki. “We can’t help if we don’t know.” What little patience was left inside of Izuku this evening was nearly depleted. He was trying his hardest to remain present and serene. (Y/n) shook her head. Her phone vibrated again, and Izuku couldn’t help how his gaze flickered down at it.

(Y/n) sighed, realizing Izuku wasn’t really going to leave her alone until she spoke; however, there was an air of shame that surrounded her.

“I just… think I need more attention, maybe…,” she tried not to wince, but she wasn’t sure how well she covered up her embarrassment. “I don’t know. I know you guys have long hours…,” she trailed off once again.

Izuku nodded, “We do.”

“Um…,” she didn’t know what to say next. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for bringing it up. I think I’m just a little emotional after…,” she referred to their night together the other week. And, now that she’d thought about it, it wasn’t like they were completely ignoring her, either. They gave her affection as much as they could, kisses and whatnot. They’d all messed around a bit since that night, but they hadn’t gone ‘all the way’ again. Maybe with each other, but not with (Y/n). She didn’t feel ready to, and she knew that upset Izuku. He didn’t say it, but he always seemed a little disappointed when he saw the hesitance in (Y/n)’s eyes and how her touch was fleeting instead of carrying the same passion they started with. It especially disappointed him how she lingered heavier on Katsuki during their intimate moments, leaving Izuku to occasionally feel like the third wheel. He didn’t want to speculate on why this would be, so he never brought attention to it in hopes that he was imagining it.

“I’m sorry,” what exactly was she apologizing for? She felt like she needed to, though. Izuku looked like he was going to fall over from exhaustion, she’d made Katsuki mad, and here she was complaining when they had given her any girl’s dream life.

Izuku was too tired to address this any further. He glanced at the hallway again to see if Katsuki had returned. He hadn’t. He must’ve banished himself to sleep downstairs on the couch.

“Let’s just go to bed, yeah?” Izuku offered.

(Y/n) sighed but reluctantly nodded, feeling like a piece of her was unfulfilled.

Katsuki and Izuku made more of an effort to attend to (Y/n) after that night by spending more time with her when they were home. It made (Y/n) feel worse because she didn’t want them to think she wasn’t satisfied with all they had given her thus far – and now she could see how they were actively trying to keep her happy on top of all of that? Why couldn’t she just be appreciative to begin with? She tried not to let the guilt eat her alive, especially when she remembered that no other person, let alone two people at once, had ever treated her this preciously.

While the two pro heroes built their relationships individually with (Y/n), tensions rose between them, and it made (Y/n) uncomfortable. She didn’t know if this was how they always were or if something recently sparked this apparent rivalry between the two men. As she spent more time settling into the home and acclimating to her new environment, she couldn’t help but notice the sly remarks or side glances they gave each other – about literally anything. Most of their spats had to do with work. (Y/n) hardly knew what truly occurred in the hero world, so she would stay out of it.

Day by day, though, her guilt faded. She felt happier and able to truly enjoy her place in their home, no longer feeling like an outsider or a guest. She was learning both of them, slowly but surely. Katsuki required a lot of attention, but he’d never outright ask for it. He’d linger around (Y/n), not exactly engaging with her but doing mindless things around the house, and he’d get defensive if she pointed it out. She appreciated it when Katsuki was more honest about his desires, especially when he came home and the first thing he did was give her a kiss. Izuku was an insufferable romantic and very different than Katsuki in that regard. He was much more comfortable showing affection, and he always prioritized his partners’ comfort over his desires.

Izuku was much more cynical than his media personality makes him out to be. Sometimes, he said things that even made Katsuki go silent.

Katsuki was also a very clean person. (Y/n) feels like he might have an oral fixation, or maybe he just really, really enjoys watching her eat his cooking. She isn’t sure.

(Y/n) was getting ready for bed, just getting out of the shower, when she heard the whack of skin coming from the kitchen. She paused, listening, her mind trying to reassure her that it wasn’t what she thought it was. The front door opened and slammed shut – someone left the house, or someone just entered. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears. She quickly tiptoed out of the bedroom, trying not to slip, as she still hadn’t dried off completely, peering down the stairs and into the kitchen.

She caught a glimpse of Izuku sitting at the island by himself. Whatever ruckus went down a few minutes prior no longer remained, and the house was silent. (Y/n) clutched the towel that draped around her, making sure it wasn’t going to fall, as she crept down the stairs.

Izuku glared at her as soon as she entered the kitchen, making her freeze by the door.

“What happened?” (Y/n) asked quietly. Izuku rolled his eyes, finally getting up from his barstool. He opened a kitchen drawer, the one where they kept random medicines, and rummaged through the back of it. He pulled out a cigarette and a lighter he’d stashed there.

(Y/n) watched him as he lit his smoke. She’d never seen him smoke in the house before. She got a glimpse of his face, then. His cheek was red and beginning to lightly bruise. (Y/n)’s eyes widened, and immediately, she flashed back to the events at Koburi Pass. She quickly approached Izuku, cupping his face to get a better look.

“Katsuki did that…?” Her emotions were conflicted. Izuku instantly yanked his face away from her before her fingers could even touch him. He took a drag of his cigarette. Tobacco smoke filled the kitchen, and (Y/n) grimaced. She just noticed now that she was shaking. Neither she nor Izuku said anything to each other for a while. They stood together in the kitchen silently, and (Y/n) watched as Izuku finished his cigarette. He rummaged through the medicine drawer once again, pulling out another cig.

“How many…?”

Izuku cut her off, seemingly already knowing what she was going to ask. “I keep them there. He hasn’t found them yet, or if he has, he hasn’t said anything.”

“Is he going to be upset that you’re smoking in the house?”

Izuku laughed bitterly, smoke blowing out with his exhale. He rolled his eyes again and shook his head.

Izuku practically refused to talk to (Y/n) about anything. The two of them just remained in each other’s presence. (Y/n) felt like he needed that more than to talk through whatever happened. He eventually went to bed, but (Y/n) stayed up. Katsuki hadn’t returned home yet, and (Y/n) had a few words to say to him.

It was around 2 AM when Katsuki returned home.

He closed the front door quietly – a complete difference from the slam hours ago. (Y/n) sat in the kitchen, pouring a glass of milk. She was nervous to see him, to get the truth of what happened. He was taking his time removing his shoes in the genkan, and it made every second feel like years. She forgot she even poured herself a glass of milk, as she stared at the entryway.

Katsuki appeared at the door of the kitchen, and his gaze immediately locked onto (Y/n). He looked a little distracted but otherwise fine. It wasn’t until he stepped further into the kitchen that she realized he was drunk.

He looked down at the untouched glass of milk in front of (Y/n).

“You spilled some,” he muttered. (Y/n) glanced down, noticing that she did indeed spill some milk on the counter when she was pouring it.

“I’ll get it,” she replied, looking back up at Katsuki. “Do you need water?”

Katsuki scoffed but smiled. “No.”

She thought she might as well confront him directly. Her resentment was teeming, “Why’d you hurt Izuku?”

The befuddled, faraway stare that Katsuki held hardened a little when she said that. He almost felt guilty. He swallowed, the alcohol loosening his lips more than he liked.

“He pissed me off,” he gave a slight shrug of the shoulder. Careless but honest.

Katsuki was always honest but never careless. (Y/n) decided then that she didn’t like this side of Katsuki. Her stomach felt tight.

“So, if I ever piss you off, you’ll do the same to me?” She snapped.

Katsuki shook his head, scowling at the ridiculousness of her question. He still stood in the doorway, almost caging her in, and (Y/n) noticed just how small she really was to them, to this big house. They stared at each other. Katsuki blinked then sighed, walking over to the fridge. (Y/n) was acutely aware of his movements, like she was locked in a room with a starving lion that circled her. The lion hadn’t pounced yet, but she could feel it in her bones that he was still eager to attack.

He shrugged, reaching for a beer from the bottom shelf – in the way back of the fridge.

“Guess not,” was his answer.

That wasn’t good enough for (Y/n), but she knew not to press the issue right now, not while he’s like this.

He popped open the beer bottle, threw away the cap, and plodded to the living room. She heard him collapse on the couch with a sigh.

(Y/n) stayed away from him for a while.

[theveil-and-thepath]

Mini PAC n°1 - What will happen until the end of the week?

Pile 1 - Pile 2

Pile 3 - Pile 4

You can pick more than one! Just follow your heart!

This is my first time fully using Lenormand cards, let's see how it goes.

*This is a source of entertainment, your destiny is in your hands.*

Pile 1

Wip, star, bouquet, mice, crossroad. Dog, fox, snake. Heart, birds, bear. Birds, garden, snake.

You'll suddenly accomplish something that you greatly desire, but in order for this to happen you'll need to defend your position and status and not let other people bring you down.

This thing you accomplish will have the double effect of solving some of your problems and concerns, and it might make some discontent people who steal your energy leave your life.

You'll interact with several people who are your seniors or more experienced than you. Only one has your true interest at heart, but all three are smart and will teach you new things about how to behave.

You may hear positive gossip about you. Some will say you have more money or are more important than you see yourself.

You may feel, or hear the promise of, the support of a powerful friend.

Keep an eye open in the places you go to this week. You can have fun at a party or event, but some will envy how you look.

Your spiritual protection practices are working, you'll see how you're more resitant to evil eye now.

Pile 2

Anchor, bear, book, heart, cross. Wip, letter, mountain. Coffin, mountain, tower. Snake, wip, ring.

Some of you will meet the love of your life, your counterpart. Maybe it's a new friend. Regardless, it's a fated encounter with someone who's as or more mature than you, stable in life, very smart/went to a good school, this person knows when to shut up and when to talk; try not to get a wrong first impression of them because theyll like you more than they'll convey. Your guides are planning your encounter.

You may start to study something new that you've been meaning to for a while.You may have an insight or receive a tarot reading (can be on youtube) that will help explain your recent love problems.

If you think of an ex this week, it's so that you see it all in a new light and move on, or to remind you how to avoid the same undesired result.

You may receive an email postponing an event or listing extra requirements you need to meet to accomplish a goal of yours.

You need to rest and sleep well before a big day.

Beware of double faced people offering you things too good to be true, perhaps they want you close to them so they can ruin your life more easily.

Be smart against those who are cunning and trying to get rid of you because they see you as competition.

Pile 3

Man, book, rider, lily, woman. Fox, anchor, child. Dog, bear, tree. Tower, heart, anchor.

A relationship you already have may progress this week and this person may reveal positive feelings that they've kept hidden. You may feel that one of your connections originated in past lives.

A good week for school and learning.

To start a new venture, you need to be smart not work hard. You may take a significant step to solidify a new project of yours.

You have great friends and family. This week you'll express your gratitude to the universe for having them. You may even receive help from old friends.

Old relationships become stronger.

This week you'll see how much support you have around you, you'll also be proud of how far you've come and how solid it's the life you've built.

Pile 4

Letter,sun, heart,bouquet, scythe. Tree, mice, wip. Anchor, sun,bouquet. Key, woman,clover.

What a bright and blessed week of reaping your rewards. Someone will compliment your work, give you amazing feedback, may say they want to keep in touch for future endeavors or ask for your number so they can call you on a date.

All the good things you desire? This week you can be so close to them it's just up to you to pick it up and take it for your life.

You receive the yes, the answer you wanted to get.

Your crush will text you, or your partner may ask you out.

If you're in a relationship, texting can turn into sexting, or you'll receive a kiss or offer for a sexy night out of a sudden.

You'll get rid of energy vampires or bad habits that have been draining your energy and slowing you down.

You'll cut off junk food or reject a specific food or drink for the sake of your health.

You may go to the doctor or start a health treatment.

This week feels so good, that some of you will get married or become engaged. May start dating too.

You'll feel your spirit guides close and showing you good things about your future.

You reach the jackpot. Somehow you'll know what you'll have to do so you level up big time.

You may receive the opportunity of a lifetime. Big thing!!! Receive it.

You're so smart and capable that people can't help but admire you.

This week you'll know that you can do it!

[nyrasproblm]

Sharp thoughts

Mel Medarda x fem!reader

Summary: Your friendship with Mel slowly begins to crumble.

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, suggestion of sexual acts.

Word Count: 1K

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

Mel was easily the best person you had ever met in your life. She was a spectacle in every way. Having her as your friend was comforting and opened many doors for you as an scientist and researcher.

Life seemed good for you, using a high-tech laboratory, with access to everything a scientist could want and thanks to Mel, contacts with several investors who might be interested in your work.

Unfortunately, Mel Medarda was too much for you.

You didn't notice when your heart started to swell when you thought about her, before you realized it, you could no longer think about her without letting out a sigh. Everything about her was... too much.

The delicate face, the graceful way she moves, the constant tinkling that is present due to her gold jewelry, the voice that seems to embrace you when she speaks to you.

You began to find yourself looking forward to her visits to your lab, or to going to see her in her luxurious quarters. This was why you worked so hard, because you loved your research, and so you had something interesting to show her. A reason to see her.

With that in mind, you stayed late in the lab, finishing a report on your latest research. You were going to show it to Mel and as a councilor, she was supposed to read it and debate whether or not to take your study to the next Council meeting.

Scanning quickly to make sure everything was okay, you stood up with a satisfied sigh. Mel's quarters weren't that far away.

You left the Academy building and walked quickly until you reached the large building where Mel's apartment was. Elora wouldn't be there at this time, and Mel had once said that you were welcome to visit her at any time. You entered the elevator and soon arrived in the lobby of the luxurious apartment. Feeling strange about the silence, you thought about calling her, but stopped when you thought you heard something. A sigh.

A moan.

You turned your head, towards where you knew Mel's suite was. You could have heard wrong, you were almost sure of that when you heard it again.

It was her voice. You were sure of it. Then she moaned again. A name this time. Jayce.

Jayce. Jayce Talis.

Your heart sank and your breath caught for a moment, until you realized you were invading her privacy. You turned and left, trying to do as little noise as possible.

You didn't see Mel for the next few days, not because you were trying to avoid her, but because you were busy working on something for Heimerdinger, and she was also working a lot, apparently.

That's why you were slightly startled when the door to your lab opened and the click of her heels was heard, followed by her melodious voice.

"Working so hard that you didn't have time to come see me?" she asked with a slight laugh in her voice. It irritated you.

"What do you mean?" you tried to focus on the project on your desk.

"I heard about the research you did, and that you gave it to Heimerdinger. Why didn't you bring it to me, like always?" she walked over to you and leaned against the desk.

"He was the first counselor I met when I finished, then." you lied, feeling the bitter taste in your mouth.

"Oh, so that's how it is." she let out a playful chuckle. "I thought we had an alliance."

Her presence felt too close, but you swallowed hard and lifted your face, meeting hers.

"Sorry, I just don't have much time to look for you." you sounded more irritated than you wanted.

Her relaxed expression faltered and she straightened her posture. "Hey, I'm just kidding." she brought one of her manicured hands to your forearm.

"Sorry." you shook your head and looked back at the notes on your desk. "I'm just... really annoyed with work."

"We all are. When you have some free time, why don't you come over to my place? I painted something new, I think you'll like it." she offered softly.

You nearly melted at her offer, the earlier irritation almost forgotten, “Sure, I’d love to.”

So that night you took the path you knew so well. The surprise this time wasn't as unpleasant as the last. Jayce was there again, lying down, his head in Mel's lap. She was comforting him about something. An intimate and tender moment. You turned around and left again.

Well, this time you were avoiding her. Leaving the lab at times when you knew she would visit you, avoiding the council building and staying away from her apartment. Elora even came to you, notifying you that Councilor Medarda wanted to see you, but you politely said that you were very busy.

Your irritation worsened when she appointed him as an advisor. It was at that moment that you knew you would never reach her level, no matter what you did.

Your favorite place to be away from the lab was the fountain in the park, with the purple leaves blowing in the wind. That's where you found yourself at the moment, absentmindedly playing with a pen in your hand, waiting for the time to pass.

"You told Elora you had too much work to take the time to see me." the velvety voice spoke from behind you, slightly irritated. "You don't seem very busy right now."

You turned your face to see her standing there, close to the bench where you were sitting.

"Counselor Medarda." you greeted politely. "Forgive me for the misunderstanding-"

"What joke is this?" she said more irritated than before, her serene face distorting into an angry expression. "What's gotten into you?"

"I have to work, Councilor, I'm afraid I'm not the richest woman in Piltover." you hinted. "I can't afford to lose my sponsorships."

"I work too, and at work I don't have many friends. That's why I value the few friendships I have." she walked up to him. "Like yours."

"Oh, you don't have any friends?" you scoffed. "And bed partners?"

"What?" she took a step back, her expression faltering.

"That's exactly what I witnessed when I went to you to deliver my research, counselor." you replied irritably. "But don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Mel was silent, standing there as you walked back to your lab.

[affableramen]

no nut november. when they try to unnoticeably watch you undress

ᡣ𐭩 mature themes, spicy but not smutty, pre-relationship

ᡣ𐭩 neuvillette, pantalone x fem!reader

Neuvillette

“Here, I wholeheartedly hope you’ll find them to your liking. I’m deeply sorry the rain soaked you, you must have least expected that.”

“It’s alright, though I’m soaked to the bone, I have monsieur Neuvillette taking care of me”, you smile widely at him as he hands you the bag full of clothes. The sovereign dragon had no problem flying to the nearest mall and buying you new clothes in order to replace your soaking ones. You can’t fly, but he doesn’t want you to catch cold right in front of his eyes.

You opened the bag and took a look at the clothes. They were really fancy ones, and Neuvillette’s sharp intuition guided him into the right size.

“Wow, monsieur Neuvillette they are all my size. They should all fit.”

“I’m extremely glad in that case”, he clears his throat. “I will leave you to change. I’ll wait in the vestibule.

“Of course.”

He reached the exit and closed the door behind him but a really thin hole could give a quick peek to someone who was in the room. Neuvillette was above taking that chance and did not plan on witnessing you get rid of your soaked layers of clothes—he’s already probably seen too much, given how your white tight shirt would stick to your cleavage.

He sighed. Perhaps you already started undressing. These nasty thoughts wouldn’t come off from his head and would not leave him alone. Neuvillette entirely missed the moment when he started thinking dirty of you. All this sexual stuff was so new and unlike him. But knowing that you were soaked and changing in his office made him experience the most obscene thoughts lingering on the bottom of his mind.

“Please tell me once you’re finished”, he cleared his throat. “Unfortunately we’re so busy today I cannot give you more time than I would prefer.”

“I understand”, your voice sounds louder, you must be heading right to the door. “I finished, monsieur, and I thank you so much for getting me those.”

Once you open the door you’re met with an incredibly perplexed and almost embarrassed stare.

“Do leave me a receipt, I shall cover them all.”

“Nonsense. It was a gift.”

“I’m afraid I cannot accept gifts from my employer.”

“Please do, after all I’m partially the reason you’re caught up in the rain; had I not asked you on your day off you would not have gotten targeted by unappealing weather conditions.”

“You’re too kind to me, monsieur.”

You go back to your cubicle not realising how deeply Neuvillette experienced desire to see more of you—a single more inch of your delicate skin.

Pantalone

“Here, this should be your size. You agree how this one is less tight and more comfy than your original outfit, don’t you?” Pantalone gives you a sweet smile, his eyes shut when he does so, and his long black eyelashes stand out proudly on his face.

“This should do. If I knew we had a training today, I wouldn’t wear my formal dress at the first place.”

You take the neatly wrapped training sport suit from his indigo-gloved hands and give it a quick quality check.

“This one is really well made. I truly like it.”

“Did you doubt our private tailors?”

“Not one bit, Regrator”, you turn away from him, facing the window, your skin glowing lit and bright in the face of Pantalone’s dark figure.

“Your formal tight-fit dress deserves a reward, sweetie, but you might have difficulties fighting in it.”

“I have no problem wearing the outfit you provided me with”, you say as you start quickly changing. Regrator’s interest is picked when he hears the ruffling of clothes. His ears perk up to each sound coming from you, but he stays turned away, with his back facing you.

“I’m glad if so.”

Just when what seems to be heavy fabric sound dropping onto the floor grabbing Pantalone’s attention, he swallows a heavy feeling in his throat. He knows what part of you is presumably naked right now and fight the urge to not peek. He is a gentleman, not a dog in heat.

But when you unclasp your bra to put the sport top on, Pantalone’s head slowly turns to your side. He takes a very subtle, quick look of the curve of your shoulder and arm. Your back muscles fascinate him. Afraid that you might notice him—what are you going to think?—he immediately looks away and forces a fake polite smile as usual.

“Well, how long am I going to wait? Tick-tock, my dear.”

“Have you never undressed a woman before? Surely you know it’s difficult to be quick.”

“Oh…”

The later process is surrounded by utter silence. Upon you finishing, Pantalone who has been dying every second while you were changing, says at last:

“Not bad.”

“Think so too.” You aim to the exit, but he grabs your shoulder. You’re suddenly stopped, but he immediately softens his touch and loosens his grip, his hand rubbing your shoulder as if giving you a massage. The gesture feels somehow encouraging and intimate at the same moment.

“Be careful, alright? I fancy seeing your body back in one piece.”

[ranticore]

Hii 🥰 I love your art so so very much and it's inspired me to start drawing again after about a year and a half of nothing. I was wondering if you could do a quick explanation of how you draw creature heads? Even with skull references and stuff I'm having troubles particularly with the eyes / eye placement and cheek areas

hi thank you, i'm happy you've gotten drawing again. i try not to make fully drawn 'here's how i do x' tutorials anymore since realising that i would just be training people to replicate my mistakes and photos really are the best reference

however not many people know HOW to use photorefs so i will show you this thing i made for someone else who asked a similar question in my dms once. step 1 is to discard any hangups you might have about tracing. professionals trace. it's fine.

for an example of what i mean when i say drawn tutorials just teach you how to replicate mistakes: i got the knee visibly wrong in my drawing here lol. but for a guide you get the idea. you basically want to put on x-ray goggles when you're looking at photos. you want to be able to see through the animal and understand 1. the axial skeleton [skull, ribs, spine] first and 2. the appendicular skeleton [pelvis, limbs] secondarily. you want to understand it in a 3D space - see how in my traced sketch, I have blocked out the ribcage as a solid form using contour lines which describe a curve. i didn't draw every individual rib, there's no need. don't get bogged down in the weeds, this drawing should take like 5 minutes max

the reason we are tracing and not just closely referencing is because this saves us from also having to worry about getting angles & proportions right. we will worry about those later. for now we are gaining understanding of how a body is formed without the pressure of having to get it 'right'.

okay so you asked about heads in particular so we'll look at heads. in the thingy above you can see that i traced a kite shape onto the front of the cranium before filling in the snout.

it's a canine and not super interesting but i think they show really well what goes on with the frontal bones. the cheek bones form the two lateral points of a kite shape.

if you start your sketch at the kite shape you can turn it in space

what you are looking for is the kite. the kite is not flat. the kite is the front of the cranium minus the nose/snout etc, it is laid out over a curved surface. you will find the eyes along the horizontal line and the cheekbones tucked under the bottom faces of the kite. the snout/nose/etc emerges from the crosshairs in the middle and the cheekbones follow the outer edge of the kite, but not the jaw. this is how i construct all my faces, human or animal doesn't matter it's all this underneath. using it i can visualise the hidden parts of the face such as the obscured cheekbone

try to find as many different types of animal or human heads as possible and trace the kite onto them. then you will see

[chococara25]

Thanksgiving

AU where Buck woke up, thinking about Tommy and decided to cook for Thanksgiving, baking crusty pecan pies & pumpkin pies, delicious green bean casseroles and sweet potato gratins, cheesy cauliflower cheese with turkey bacon bits, creamy mashed potatoes and the classic stuffings.

After done with baking and cooking, he realized he had no one to give it to (Everyone would just give him weird looks if he brings everything to potluck Thanksgiving dinner, plus they had forbid him from cooking) and wondering if he should donate to the homeless shelters cos at least someone can sleep warm with a full stomach when Lucy Donato texted him out of nowhere complaining how everyone is swamped in calls all day long and how hungry they are including Tommy, who came in to cover someone's shift and EPIPHANY!! He can just give them to the 217 AND check on Tommy at the same time.

He starts to pack everything before separating some food into different containers and stick a sticky note on each of them. He then unload the bread loaves and cookies he had been making for the past week into a basket cos waste not, want not right?

Tommy coming back from a weird call involving some idiots trying to make turkey barbacoa in their backyard when he saw everyone gathering around the dining table, stuffing their face, moaning about the delicious food and praising the cook.

He was confused till he turned around to see Evan of all people staring at him, unruly curls and dark circles under his eyes.

"Hey. Lucy said you guys haven't eaten all day." Evan looked awkwardly at him.

(At the corner of his eyes, he can see Lucy slunking off guiltily, carrying a whole pie and weird a plate of cupcakes with her)

Evan looked as if he wanted to say something but looked away, his lips twisted unhappily. He pushed a bag full of containers and a basket full of bread and cookies at them before running away.

Tommy hid in one of the closets, checking the bag and basket, its contents each marked by a sticky note.

The Banana Loaf - "Everytime I think of calling you, I baked instead. Now my fridge is full but I'm still thinking about you."

The Snickerdoodle cookies - "Jee asked where cool uncle Tommy was. She misses her tea party partner."

Vanilla and raspberry mascarpone loaf cake - "I can't stop thinking how you would enjoy all the cakes and pastries I made for the past few months."

green bean casserole - "I still have your clothes and I kept wearing them to sleep cos its the closest thing I have to you because I have a hard time falling asleep without you holding me in your arms"

Carrot cake loaf - "I saw a helicopter today at work and I wonder if it was you flying it. We never did have that flying lesson."

cauliflower cheese - I'm sorry I never told you I love you when I really do. I love you and I missed every single minute the moment you walk out of my life.

pecan pie - I'm sorry I said the wrong things when I asked you to move in with me. I'm sorry I too much in the end for you and drove you away."

pumpkin pie - I'm sorry you felt pressured but I didn't lie, I really admire you and your confidence made me feel safe, being with you was like waking up for the first time from the lightning coma, I could breath again and you were the one who set me free.

sweet potato gratin - "You said you were my first but not my last. Tommy, you might be my first boyfriend but you definitely my last."

stuffings - "You are my beginning and my forever happy ending. I have no interest in looking for a different happy ending if you're not in it."

By the time he reached the last container, his eyesight were blurry with unshed tears.

Brownies - "Can we try one more time? I'm not ready to give on us."

Tommy was startled when the door to the closet swung open, Captain Pruitt looming over him with a plate of pecan pie in her hands. "I saw firefighter Buckley earlier when he dropped off the food. I don't know what's going on between the two of you and why both of you decided to break up, but Kinard, that man looks as if he still in love with you."

She panicked as Tommy burst into loud tears, holding the container of brownies to his chest.

Evan was cleaning up his kitchen, he was too tired and too emotionally wrung out to stay for the Thanksgiving dinner other than dropping off the last two pies for everyone to enjoy.

He frowned when he hear the doorbell, wondering if Maddie is going to stage another intervention on him when he opened the door, before staring in surprise.

Tommy was standing in front of him, still wearing his flight suit, holding the container with brownies and the sticky notes in his arms.

"Can we talk?" He asked with hopeful eyes.

Evan pulled him into the loft, closing the door behind them.

[anomalymon]

I did do a bit of research into subpersonalities and I'll admit I'm not an expert, but what's described here seems different to me. What I saw about subpersonalities they don't seem to have that level of identity to actually be different species or fictional characters like I saw. When I looked into genders I couldn't find anything about them being able to be different genders either besides in a sort of metaphorical way.

This seems a lot closer to median systems (other source with some better clarification) from how I've seen it described in polymind resources vs. how I've seen it described in subpersonalities, actually to the point polymind seems to unintentionally have borrowed a term structure from it with -ling. While it might not be, I think that's where I and most other systems see the similarities.

I think active as a parallel to fronting, at least for me, is because of how there's terms in the carrd for active, co-active, and activestuck, which seem like they're meant to parallel front. The same goes for swap and swappy being just switch and switchy.

Also for me at least I was getting my information from the wiki that I saw linked and I assumed the Carrds that kept being cited were either created by the coiner or created with the coiner's feedback. The Carrds aren't reliable, I know this one has straight up misinformation, but I was taking them as something reflective of the community and community terminology since it was cited on the wiki. I understand if that's not the case but that's why I referenced it.

Either way if it's genuinely not plurality, I'd say a good way to beat those allegations would be to write about your experiences. Especially with posts in the tag furthering that misinformation, like calling it a "less harmful alternative to endos" (it's not an alternative if that's not what it is in the first place, since endogenic systems are separate individuals, not personalities and not really anything close to subpersonalities).

I think a lot of people would be interested in reading any essays you'd write on your experiences too. The alterhuman community especially is big into that, and I'd love to read it myself too. A lot of communities got their start with people just writing and sharing their experiences. If you try to make the whole term structure before others know your experiences and vice versa, that's how misunderstandings can happen.

It's worth mentioning too that there are system and plural community resources that might still be applicable to you, and there's nothing wrong with using or reading these if you aren't of these experiences or don't identify as such. I'd highly recommend Healthy Multiplicity as a starting point since it's a long time link collection and has a lot of relevant articles. I'd also recommend learning what plurality and systems actually are, since that might give you more insight into how your experience compares and differs.

(Also re: little, I know it's an age regression term but little and ageling as far as that glossary goes seemed redundant to me, hence why I included it, but admittedly that was done without thinking)

Polymind is a bit fascinating because it ends up unintentionally showing why system terminology ends up not being exclusive to any one specific group.

Like when you try to describe plural experiences in a way that tries not to use an existing plural definitions, it shows a lot more blatantly that at its core we do all have the same experience of being more than one. Any term you make has a high chance of applying to the other group.

Then when you get into the terminology needed to actually describe those experiences, you find you kind of need most of the shared terminology otherwise you need to recreate the whole damn lexicon.

Like the reason terms get shared is more like "We have DID need a fast and easy way to describe fictional alters. Oh, soulbonders have a lot of terminology for this already that fits what we need, we'll start using fictive and source."

Or "We're a non-disordered system and need a way to describe one headmate taking over. Oh, medically there's switching and front, that's a fast and simple way to describe it."

And like a lot of subcultures online are like that and when you try to fight it you end up with complicated and not very practical terms. Especially when there's terms that have been used for over 30 goddamn years that are simpler and easier to use.

Hell even trying not to use any existing plural terminology, Polymind ended taking a lot of them unintentionally (i.e. part, ageling, little, protector).

It also highlights an issue where unless you do deeper introspection, which is not always practical for... obvious reasons, you probably won't know exactly what you fall under. Expecting people to look in depth trauma history to figure out what terminology they're allowed to use is despicable.

Also that the problem is at its core that people don't think we should exist at all and that the terminology stink ends up being more of a way to make harassment and fakeclaiming seem "justified" and also a method of erasing history and separating systems from resources/making them harder to find but eh

[sockatoothewafflebird]

u prolly have already but pls i want in depth yap abt caitvi in arc3 and how they heal :)

oh anon i have NOT yapped about how they heal. not in detail at least. so here we go. there's not a lot that hasn't been said about them, but i'd like to put my perspective into the ring just because. as an eldest sister and as a lesbian i can relate to vi in a lot of ways.

i think my main takeaway for caitvi in act 3 is how they're both human, in the ways they love and in the ways they fight. arcane is a show that respects its audience and trusts us to be able to read between the lines and i appreciate how you can see every little detail of the words they're not saying if you look close enough.

in The Scene especially you can see just how real theyre being... im not gonna dwell on it, but by the skin of my teeth and the bones in my knees they LOVE each other. you can see it so clearly.

caitlyn walks in on vi questioning everything she is. violet legit just let her sister slip from her fingers, again. i cannot tell you how many times i've felt guilty when my sister or brother are hurt or do something wrong, even if i had no part in it. i cannot imagine how much it would hurt to lose them and keep going only because of the possibility of finding them again, and then when i finally do find then they're ripped from my arms. and it happens more than once. i would be in the same place vi is. blaming herself for all of it. making the burden of protecting her sister all hers and no one else's. wondering whether or not she's doing the right thing at all. (cough coughh petra minecraft is that you)

as stressful as they can be sometimes they're my siblings and i'd do anytning for them. and with the kind of person vi is, for her that means punching whoever's in the way. doing whatever she can. she has a big heart and she's never lost it.

after caitlyn basically dumped her in the most entitled way possible vi had nothing left. no one to protect and nothing to fight for. so she fought just for the sake of fighting. after getting her family back and losing them again (holy ballsockets she was put through the wringer) all she had was cait even if cait hurt her. i think even if cait never did anytbing to make it up to her, she would have stayed, because vi needs an anchor.

caitlyn's hurt a lot of people directly or indirectly. she grew up priveleged and stayed that way, never truly seeing exactly how much pain people are going through until it's too late to turn back. caitlyn's arc is a very interesting one because she never says the words "i'm sorry". she never tells vi that what she did was wrong and that she wants to fix it. but she does things that prove her remorse.

caitlyn works with vi in the end of act 2. i think this is partially because she was already skeptical of ambessa from the start, and partially because she wanted to find a way to make it up to her. caitlyn doesn't fold as soon as vi calls her cupcake, that's not what the look is. The Look is her thinking, "wait, does she not hate me? why did she call me her term of endearment even after everything i've done?"

in act 3, caitlyn takes all the guards out of the prison, because she knew vi would try to rescue her sister. in the words of another post i forgot to save (deepest apologies to the op of that one), vi could have taken jinx and ran. caitlyn might have never seen her again and she let that happen anyway. and cait even went to the cell to check to see if her theory was true, and lo and behold it was. and vi failed at trying to save her sister. again.

what does caitlyn do? she tells vi that she relieved the prison of the guards because of her. all confident and sultry and commanding like she knows what she's doing.

and then when they're getting into it caitlyn frantically pulls away. she realizes that, yeah, she still needs to make things right. she tries to be honest, tell vi that she saw someone else, and vi just reassures her and keeps going. i think thisnis because 1) vi wants the cupcake, who wouldn't, and 2) she's... not exactly forgiving, that needs more work- but she's showing her appreciation for caitlyn here. caitlyn did something huge for her, she let her break a prisoner out which could have dire consequences for both of them.

i think vi just absolutely smothering cait is also a way to show that even though cait hurt her physically as well as emotionally, she's gone past that. if vi hadn't at least given some thought about cait's actions she would not let this happen, i don't think, unless she's super desperate. this proves that vi is starting to move on and cait is starting to revert back to that sputtering stuttering pinned-to-a-wall-flustered woman she was in season one- that's the woman vi fell in love with, after all... and that woman is battered and bruised and has plenty of sins to stone for. but that woman is not dead.

The Scene in the cell is both them being desperate and them showing their love for each other without words. caitlyn's hand lingers on vi's injury, maybe about to utter an apology, but vi cuts her off anyway. there's SO many little things here gaughehgjf.

and in the end of the show, when caitlyn looks into the hexgates in her family's archives, she looks because vi probably asked her to. vi wanted to be sure. she looked because she cares about vi. whether or not she'll tell vi about this is an interesting thought- i don't think she would. it would undermine jinx's sacrifice.

jinx walked away so she could move on. so piltover could move on. so zaun could move on. so vi could move on. and caitlyn telling vi that she's alive would ruin the steps they've taken towards healing.

i think vi's main problem was dedicating her life to her sister and nothing else. and caitlyn's was just her exploiting a broken system and mever recognizing her faults. vi starts to heal because now that her sister is truly gone to her, she can move away from the past and build her own future. and now that caitlyn's fully realized her mistakes she can take steps towards changing piltover for the better. GAHH i love complicated sapphics especially when there's sapphic joy after all the suffering....

this was all written in one sitting so apologies if it's messy, and i've sort of compiled some other ideas and theories i've seen in here too; but yeah, these are my thoughts on caitvi in season 2. i think they could've been fleshed out a bit more, but overall their relationship is legendary. i'll never stop loving them. caitvi supremacy people 💪

[bleue-flora]

Now that we have more info and access, let's talk about Quackity's tools shall we...

On day one, Quackity brings a pair of unenchanted shears and Sam gives him WARDENS WILL and WARDENS HAMMER as well as some item frames (which as an aside I’ve always thought is such an unhinged inclusion…).

Thus completing the trifecta of torture tools that we see in the montage later [clip]. :]

But we also know that it doesn’t end there, because in the other 2 visits we get to see he actually doesn’t even use Sam weapons (besides WARDENS TORMENT), so we know there are other undefined tools, which is why it’s so exciting to now be able to see inside chests and inventories because now we can analyze and speculate to kinda determine what those tools might have been and their enchantments (and perhaps the implications of their enchantments)…

So, for starters, in that same montage it also shows Quackity grabbing tools from a room and throwing them on the floor [seen below], which ends up being what looks like 3 neitherite axes, 3 netherite swords, and 1 pair of shears, likely implying that multiple weapons of the same type were also used (further supported by the fact that we see him use both WARDENS HAMMER and a netherite axe with low durability). Tragically, this storage room stocked with netherite weapons doesn’t exist on the map [post] :( so instead I’m gonna determine what I think are the most likely candidates from the chests in the prison, Las Nevdas, Quackity’s inventory and Sam’s inventory.

Now I’m gonna assume that 1 of the 3 axes thrown on the ground and 1 of the 3 swords are WARDENS HAMMER and WARDENS WILL, because there are not enough reasonable or qualifying sword or axe options in the locations we have to look at (this of course all based on the assumption that they aren’t in this storage room on the other map they filmed it on or didn’t have Mending and broke).

The second axe dropped I’m gonna say is the one with low durability seen in both the streams where he tries to get Dream to write the letter and the one with Techno later, which matches the one in Quackity’s ender chest with Efficiency V and mending. This axe is pretty interesting for the fact that is does not have sharpness on it, perhaps that is because that does too much damage. It’s low durability makes a lot of sense based on the lack of Unbreaking, and the Mending actually confirms what I had already theorized based off of the bottles of enchanting in his inventory when he visits rivals duo, which certainly has some implications about how much he used this axe to the point he needed to mend it mid session…

After the 2 axes, we see a sword and again I’m gonna just say this is WARDENS WILL. The last axe I’m gonna say is most likely the one in Quackity’s inventory with Efficiency V, Fortune III, Mending, Sharpness V, Unbreaking III. This one have much more durability, perhaps because of the Unbreaking or because we don’t see it in the visits we get, maybe because it has Sharpness V he doesn’t use it as much.

The second sword I’m gonna say is also one from his inventory called SPIDER MASTER 2000 with Bane of Arthropods V, Fire Aspect, Unbreaking III, and Mending. Based on the name and Arthropods, this sword was likely made for the purpose of farming xp in the spider farm, but I’d say it’s not unreasonable to think Quackity used it for other things too. Makes me wonder if that enchantment has any strange effect on a person. And don’t even get me started on the Fire Aspect. :]

The third sword I’m gonna say is this one in a chest in the prison with Knockback II, Looting III, Mending, Sharpness V, Sweeping Edge III, and Unbreaking III, for 2 reasons 1) the chest it is in includes building items such as Quartz and Smooth Stone [highlighted in yellow] which are not present in the prison but are in multiple areas of Las Nevadas and 2) It has full durability, but has Mending to explain that unlike the other nethrite swords in the prison (minus the Guard Sword, which I doubt he let Q use) and Sam’s inventory, all with high durability. Perhaps we could make up some reason like perhaps using the Sweeping Edge or Knockback to explain the full durability and why it’s in a chest in the prison. Perhaps it is Sam’s sword but Quackity was miss using it or the enchantments on it made it too dangerous or something, so Sam made him heal it and return it. Maybe that’s why he stops giving Quackity his Warden weapons too… who knows.

Then we see a pair of unenchanted shears, which we see him with in his first visit and the one with rivals duo. Give that shears durability doesn’t last long in general and that these are unenchanted, it’s probably reasonable to say that he perhaps broke and brought multiple pairs of unenchanted shears so to pin down the specific pair isn’t great, but we do see a pair in a hidden chest under the Needle in Las Nevadas (like irl wise it’s not like they did 80 scenes of torture this is could technically be the pair from the rivals duo stream (and maybe even the first visit)). Especially since it also has a pair of iron pants and an enchanted diamond sword like we see in his inventory during that stream. An enchanted diamond sword also appears in the letter visit and I’m gonna say they are both this sword with Sharpness I. It has higher durability than the one seen in the rivals visit, but perhaps he healed it with a diamond or something. This diamond sword is pretty interesting in the fact that it isn’t netherite like the ones shown in the montage, so it also than does less damage, even more so due to the minimum enchantments. Perhaps that’s what makes it such a good option for torture as it doesn’t do too much damage and kill Dream on accident.

During the rivals duo visit, we also see Warden’s torment which to my suprise only has Unbreaking III not Mending. We also see an unenchanted diamond pickaxe. Now we could say he only brought the pickaxe with the purpose of getting his revenge or we could take it as a sign that he used pickaxes too outside of just shears, swords and axes. After all, WARDENS WILL BREAKER is the name of Sam’s pickaxe, so surely it was used when trying to break Dream’s will (and if that then perhaps the netherite pickaxe in Quackity’s inventory as well).

Furthermore, when Quackity runs into George outside the prison, we see him carrying an enchanted diamond pickaxe likely the same one in his inventory with Fortune II and Unbreaking III, which I’d say can be reasonably assumed to have been used inside the prison (perhaps just for convenience sake). Especially because, also in his inventory at the time is a stack of seeds, which appears in the chest with the enchanted diamond sword and shears which we already determined were likely used.

So, those are all the things we can more reasonably conclude with some reasonings and conclusions definitely stronger than others. Even further though if we wanted to really start to theorize, there is an also an argument to be made (that I’ve actually highlighted before [posts - <> <>]) that if he uses pickaxes why not also shovels? And hoes? And maybe even one of Sam tridents, perhaps WARDENS MERCY with Channeling [post]? [potential weapons used highlighted in red] I don’t know, it’s really mostly all theoretical but fun to think about anyways, I mean we do have Quackity’s comment in the letter visit, “I’ll show you which one I’ll use this time around.” [clip] and Dream’s comment to Foolish, “Sam, you know, let him in the prison, let him bring in tools—and shears, and they tried to torture the revive book out of me…” [clip] which does somewhat support the reasoning for more variety of tools. After all, why doesn’t Dream say weapons and shears? Seems to me like you’d use tools to include the shears, cuz swords and axes are just weapons. (We can obviously explain this away for many reason but that’s besides the point). Plus I mean based off of what Dream said in Daedalus as noted we tend to like to reasonably assume a knife and chair was involved (further supported by ccSam if we chose to believe his unhinged comments lol XD), and that certainly opens the door for other things…