#and some of it is!! but a lot of it is also just genuinely out of their control

[incognit0slut]

was i stupid to love you?

in which a lingering glance at Rossi’s wedding threatens your engagement.

content: angst, 4.8k, takes place right after truth or dare (14x15), a lot of dialogue, mention of prison arc, emotional distress, relationship conflict, not proofread a/n: when was the last time you saw me write angst? exactly. this is inspired by malcolm & marie bc i really like the idea of having an argument while moving around the house (also disclaimer i have nothing against JJ i just like being dramatic)

The lock clicks open. The door swings with a creak. Your heels tap against the hardwood in a hollow rhythm that feels almost too loud. There’s a tightness in your chest, that prickling behind your eyes, and a familiar ache pressing up from the pit of your stomach, churning into a faint nausea that you try to ignore. You’re trying to hold it back.

Not here.

Not now.

Spencer doesn’t even look up. The keys slip from his hand with a soft clink as they hit the side table, and he turns away with a quiet sigh that reverberates deep in your bones.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, tossing a glance toward the kitchen. “Think we could order something?”

You trail after him, the sharp click of your heels echoing as you step onto the kitchen tile. “We just came back from a wedding.”

He’s rifling through the cupboard, his fingers brushing over the mismatched mugs and neatly stacked plates before he pulls down two glasses. “I barely ate anything at the reception.”

You watch him, biting back a response as memories flicker to mind. The slice of cake he’d poked at absentmindedly, washing it down with sips of water instead of real food.

It wasn’t hunger he seemed focused on tonight. No, it was his quiet glances across the room you keep on catching from the corner of your eye, and that conversation he’d had at the bar. The one where his posture softened, his gaze so intent you’d found yourself staring at the back of his head, trying not to read too much into it—and obviously failing.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

He shrugs, his back still to you as he fills the glasses with water. “I don’t know,” he says, sounding almost absent, like it’s something he hasn’t really thought about. “I didn’t get around to it, I guess.”

The muscles in your jaw ticks as you bite the inside of your cheeks.

Spencer turns, offering you a glass. “I was thinking of Chinese, or maybe we can check if that Thai place you like is still open.”

You take the glass from him, barely sparing it a glance before setting it back down on the counter. “Whatever you want is fine.”

A subtle crease appears between his brows. “You sure? You usually have some opinion when it comes to food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You don’t want to eat anything?”

You suppress a sigh. "No. I'm tired."

The soft amber of his eyes dims slightly as he studies you. There's a flicker of uncertainty passing through them before he nods. “Alright,” he concedes. “We don’t have to order anything.”

A faint, humorless laugh escapes you before you can stop it. It tastes bitter, a little unfair, but it slips out before you can pull it back, “You don’t have to change your plans on my account, Spencer.”

“I’m not changing any plans,” he responds. “I’m just making sure you have something to eat in case you’re hungry.”

Your shoes dig uncomfortably into your feet. You shift your weight, starting to pace a few steps back and forth. "It's dinner, you don't have to check on me for every little thing. Do whatever you like."

He blinks, looking genuinely perplexed. "What are you saying? I was trying to be considerate."

"Right. Considerate.”

There’s an unmistakable bite in your tone.

“Yes, because we like doing these things together," he observes, watching your uneasy pacing. "Am I missing something here?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

"Honey."

The term of endearment lands softly, slipping from his lips like he believes it has the power to melt whatever tension has suddenly crept between you. But it only tightens the knot building in your stomach. It’s stirring the words you’re trying to hold back, tangling them somewhere between your chest and throat.

He calls your name this time, his eyes narrowing into sharp lines. “You’ve been awfully quiet on our way home, and now you’re… honestly, I don’t know why you're acting this way.” His voice dips with a tinge of exasperation. "What’s this really about?"

The words you’ve been biting back feel like a stack of stones in your throat, rising up, up, up, each one pressed tighter by the gnawing nausea in your stomach. You can feel them gathering, and before you know it, they tumble out messily.

“I’m just saying, don’t let me hold you back from getting what you want. I wouldn’t want to stop you from anything—or, god forbid," you add, letting your gaze drift away as if a little distance might soften the blow, “anyone.”

The soft, almost stifled inhale he takes is audible. You don’t even have to look up to see his expression shifting. You’ve known him long enough to recognize the way his shoulders tense, the way his breathing slows as he processes your words. You know his reaction by heart, yet right now, you wonder if saying this was a mistake, if this is the start of something neither of you can take back.

His fingers twitching at his side slip into your line of sight. He's angry.

Maybe this isn’t the time to start a fight.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Your heels click softly as you turn.

“Forget it. I shouldn't have said anything,” you mutter, already moving toward the bedroom that’s been yours, too, for the past year. Although it feels strange tonight, like a space that belongs to someone else. A life you’re not entirely sure you belong in.

“No." His voice is somewhere behind you. “I think you should explain to me what you mean by that.”

You don’t respond, choosing instead to sink onto the edge of the bed, hands fumbling as you try to undo the straps of your heels. You twist the stubborn leather with more force. His shadow fills the doorway.

“Honey.”

Not again.

You decide to ignore him.

“Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

You tug harder at the strap. “No.”

He doesn’t buy it. “You’re clearly bothered by something.”

You shake your head, fingers still fumbling, the leather cutting against your ankle with each pull. “I’m just tired. Can we leave it at that?”

There’s a flicker of frustration in his gaze now, a crease forming between his brows as he studies you. He moves into the room. You barely have the chance to react before he lowers himself, bending one knee to the floor as he reaches toward the strap you’ve been fighting with. “Here, let me—”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, pulling your foot away. “I can do it myself.”

“I know you can. But let me—”

“I can do it myself!”

Your heartbeat thuds loud in your ears, each pulse feeding the frustration that’s wound its way up from your chest. He rises slowly, not a word passing his lips, but the tension radiates off him like heat. He’s close enough that his warmth presses against your skin, although it’s not the kind you usually find comforting. It’s almost suffocating.

You turn your focus back to the stubborn strap, your fingers trembling slightly as you struggle to grip it. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him slipping off his shoes, one after the other, the soft thuds barely audible over the rush of your own heartbeat. He pulls off his suit jacket, carefully smoothing the crumpled fabric before hanging it in the closet. For a moment, it seems like he’s going to let it go… until his gaze drifts back to you.

You can tell his patience is fraying, and you’re proven right when he asks again, “What did you mean by that? When you said you wouldn’t want to stop me from anyone… what was that supposed to mean?”

You finally manage to tug the strap loose. The heel drops to the floor with a muted thump. “It was nothing.”

“I don’t think you’d say something like that if it was nothing.”

Your focus shifts to the other shoe. “Just drop it, Spencer.”

"How am I supposed to drop it when you're implying... whatever it is you're implying?"

You keep your eyes down, wrestling with the strap in silence. He cuts through the quiet before it has a chance to grow.

“Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t brush it off like it’s nothing when it clearly means something. I need to know why you said that.”

You kick off the other heel and meet his gaze for the first time since you walked into the room. “You really want to know?”

He reaches for his bow tie, yanking it loose it with one hard pull. “Do I want to know why you’re giving me this attitude right now? Yes. Yes, I do.”

Oh. So this is going to be that kind of fight.

You hadn’t expected it to go here. Fights with Spencer are very rare, usually more a clash of misunderstandings that you both laugh about with limbs tangled between sheets by the time you’ve made peace. But seeing him standing there with the tie hanging loosely around his neck and his five o’clock shadow casting an even darker line along his jaw, it hits you differently.

This is real. And this time, you don’t know if brushing it off will fix anything.

“Fine, let’s talk about it then.” You rise from the bed, tension carrying you to your feet. “Emily’s speech tonight.”

His brow furrows, not quite a scowl, more a cautious crease as he processes your tone. “Emily’s speech? What about it?”

“What do you remember of it?”

There’s a slight pause, and you can tell he's clearly caught off guard by the question. “She mentioned how Rossi and Krystal are twin flames."

“Right. Two souls that are always meant to be together.”

His face is still marked by confusion, but there’s something else creeping in. A subtle tightening around his eyes tells you he’s starting to piece it together. “I don’t understand what that has to do with—”

“You looked at JJ the second Emily made that speech,” you cut him off. “Spencer, you didn’t even spare a glance at your future wife because you were too busy making eyes at the woman who’s apparently been in love with you all these years.”

There. You said it. The words that have twisted around your insides all evening are finally out. And maybe they taste a little bitter, but at least they're not choking you anymore.

A second passes, then another, and by the time the fifth heartbeat ticks by, he’s standing there with his hand on his hip.

“That’s not what happened."

“Then what was it?” you demand. "I sat beside you the whole day, you didn't even try to hide it."

“That’s not—you’re twisting things.” His hand moves through his hair, fingers digging in as his curls tumble forward onto his forehead. “And you know what happened that night wasn’t real. It was a forced confession. She was under duress, we both were. JJ and I are just friends.”

You arch an eyebrow. “You look at all your friends like that?”

His hand drops to his side. "I don't know what else you want me to say. JJ said what she did because she thought we might die. She has a family, and a husband who she loves. We already went through this, I don't understand why this is suddenly an issue again."

“Maybe I wouldn’t be bringing this up if you didn’t look at her tonight like you were ready to break up that marriage yourself.”

A flash of shock and anger crosses his features.

“That’s not fair,” he snaps, his voice sharper than you’ve heard in a while. “Do you really think I’d disregard everything I have with you because of a look? Because of a history that has never gone anywhere?”

“I don’t know what to think. It's not like it happened just once, I saw you looking at her the same way at the bar." You step forward, accidentally kicking your discarded heel as you move. "What were you two talking about, anyway?”

He lets out a tight breath. “She was checking in on me. She… we haven’t talked much since then.”

The corners of your mouth pull down. “Mhm. Another round of truth or dare?”

“I can’t believe you’re using that against me." His hair flops forward as he shakes his head, falling messily over his brow. "If there were anything unresolved with JJ, I would’ve said something. But I didn’t, because there’s nothing there."

“And yet, she’s always been an important part of your life, hasn't she?"

He tilts his head. "What are trying to say now?"

Your tongue darts out, briefly brushing your lips. You're not sure you should say it, but it feels like a door has swung open—a door to words that have been waiting for their moment.

You take a slow, deep breath, filling your lungs with as much air as you can.

“When you were in prison, you put her on your visiting list ahead of almost everyone else. Doesn’t that say something about where she stands with you?”

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.

“She’s part of the team,” he says, as if he’s trying to spell out something he’s already explained a dozen times. "There were strict rules, I already told you that only a handful of people were allowed to visit. It wasn’t like I could just put anyone on the list.”

“But you could’ve put me on there!”

The familiar burn of tears prickles at the edges of your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. An explanation or protest is poised on his lips, but you’re already moving, closing the distance with a single, decisive step. A finger lands on his chest.

“I was your girlfriend, Spencer. Were you that determined to keep me out? Was the thought of seeing me really so unbearable? Do you even understand how hard it was to sit at home, knowing you were locked up, feeling completely helpless? Do you have any idea how much I hated myself day after day because I couldn’t do anything to help you?”

Your lips quiver. You feel like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.

“I was out here, just… waiting. Wondering if you were okay, if they were treating you alright, if you even had someone to talk to. And meanwhile, she’s there, with you. Every single time, she’s the one who gets to be by your side.”

Your nail digs into the fabric of his shirt.

“So forgive me if I can’t just let that go. Because when it mattered, it felt like you didn’t want me to be there for you. And now… now I don’t even know if you need me the way you seem to need her.”

Your breathing turns shallow, each inhale catching in your chest. The tears you’ve been holding back are dangerously blurring your vision. You swallow the knot lodged in your throat.

“I need a minute.”

Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, leaving him standing there in stunned silence. You slip back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you finally reach for the glass of water that’s been sitting there untouched. You take a sip, barely feeling the cool water on your lips, when you hear his footsteps behind you.

“You think I don’t want you in my life?” he demands. “You think I somehow need her more than I need you?”

You set the glass down. “What part of ‘I need a minute’ do you not understand?”

“You really expect me to wait quietly after you unloaded every doubt you’ve ever had about us?”

You life your chin up. “Yes, I do. I need space to think right now.”

“What more do you want to think about when you’ve already convinced yourself that I’m always going to fall short? Is it so hard to believe that you’re the one I want?”

“You want to know why it’s so damn hard to believe?” You turn towards him. “Because every time I try to let this go, there’s always something. A confession. That—that not-so-subtle look. And when those things happen, it reminds me that I’m not as close to you as she is. I’m fucking tired of feeling like I’m fighting for space in your life.”

“Do you think I want you to feel like that? Do you think I’d go through everything we’ve been through if you didn’t matter to me?”

“Then explain to me why I wasn’t on that list!” you cry out. “Explain to me why, in one of the hardest times of your life, you couldn’t make space for me?”

“Because I was trying to protect you!”

A heavy, dreadful silence falls between you. He takes a step back, his eyelids fluttering shut briefly, and when he opens them again, there’s a softness in his gaze that mirrors the gentleness now threading through his voice.

“I know it probably doesn’t make sense to you, and maybe it never will, but I couldn’t stand the idea of you seeing me like that. Living through it was hard enough, but having you there, seeing me so helpless… It would have crushed me. I didn’t want that to be your memory of me.”

His Adam’s apple dips as he swallows, a quick, almost anxious movement you’ve witnessed countless times.

“And when JJ came to see me,” he continues, “the way the inmates looked at her, the things they said after she left… it was disgusting. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen to you. I couldn’t live with thought of you being subjected to that because of me.”

You lower your head with a sigh. “I don’t care if they looked. I don’t care what they would’ve thought.”

“But I care,” he fires back, taking a step forward. “Because you mean more to me than anyone. All I wanted was to keep you safe, and maybe I didn't handle it right, maybe I made the wrong call... but it was only because I—" His voice drops into an even more gentle note. "Because I love you."

Your heart stumbles, an uneven beat that feels almost bruised, pounding hard against your ribs.

"I-I love you so much. More than I know how to put into words." The ache in your chest sharpens as his hands come up to cup your cheeks. "I don't like fighting with you. I hate it, actually. I hate seeing you look at me like this."

You also hate the way he’s looking at you. There’s a depth to his annoyingly pretty eyes that makes it impossible to hold up your defenses without feeling them crumble. You let your eyes flutter closed.

“Why don’t we… call it a night?” He suggests. “Let’s lie down. We don’t have to talk about this now.”

The blackness behind your eyelids does little to quiet your mind. Nor does his voice. Or his touch. Instead of offering peace, his presence throws every glance, every moment of tension from tonight into sharper relief.

You draw in a breath, trying to find some comfort in his palms against your cheeks. Yet, even this can’t smooth away the doubt that’s settled in. With a resigned sigh, you release the breath you’ve been holding along with the words that have been pressing at the back of your throat.

“You haven’t explained it to me.”

The shadows in his gaze seem to deepen when you open your eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve been going in circles, but you haven’t explained to me what happened tonight,” you say quietly. “Why did you look at her, Spencer?”

His thumb absently strokes your cheek in a way that feels more hesitant than reassuring.

“Be honest with me,” you press. “Was there a part of you, even the tiniest part, that still wanted something with her? Some small part of you that… wondered what it might be like?”

The silence between you presses in from all sides, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant, muffled ticking of a clock on the wall. It’s the kind of quiet that sharpens even the smallest sounds, yet his lack of response feels like the loudest thing of all.

You pull back from him with an incredulous laugh.

“Unbelievable.” The word barely makes it past your lips, then louder as you start to move, pacing the length of the apartment. “Unbelievable.”

“Wait,” he says, trailing after you, “I didn’t even say anything.”

You stop short by the couch and whip around to face him.

“You didn’t need to! You—you hesitated," you stammer, searching his face for any flicker of denial, but it’s there, plain as day, that split-second of doubt you caught. “That was already an answer.”

He inches closer. A hand closes in on you. “Please—”

You flinch, pulling back, and every muscle in your body tightens. “Don’t. Don’t touch me right now.”

His hand falls to his side. “Please… let me explain."

You watch his hand drop, fingers twitching like they’re not sure if they should retreat or reach out again, but he keeps them there, hovering in some invisible line you’ve drawn. He looks at you with those big, pleading eyes, and for a split second, you almost feel bad for him.

Almost.

A bitter sort of smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. "So now you want to explain?"

He takes that as permission, and his voice comes in low, almost cautious. "When I first started at the BAU, I had… maybe a crush. A passing thing, barely anything, really. But that was fourteen years ago.” His hand scrubs through his hair in a frustrated sweep. “Fourteen years."

Your brows pull into a frown. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“Because it was nothing,” he says, almost too quickly. “I was young, it didn’t matter. I didn’t think it was worth bringing up.”

“Oh, I get it now. All those old feelings came rushing back the night she confessed, didn’t they?”

He mirrors your frown, a visible line of tension etching itself between his brows as he protests, “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it?” you press. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a whole lot like you’re caught between us because some part of you is still hung up on what might’ve been with her."

He shifts uncomfortably, and you notice the muscles in his jaw clenching the moment his gaze falters, dipping away for just a heartbeat before he looks back at you.

“It’s not that I don’t know what I want,” he starts to explain. “I didn’t expect her to say those things, and, yes, it threw me off for a moment. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking back, or that I want her. I want you.”

You shake your head, feeling a tired sort of frustration settle over you, and walk over to the couch. The soft cushions give slightly beneath you as you sink down.

“If you really wanted me, this wouldn’t be happening. You wouldn’t have let her get into your head like that. And now, you expect to believe that none of it meant anything?”

He’s quick to follow, closing the distance in a few tense steps. “It’s not—” His hands flex open and close at his sides. “You’re acting like one single look tonight is enough to decide I’m not committed to you. Do you really think I’d let some confession I didn’t even ask for get in the way of what we have?”

“It’s not just about that single look. It’s the way she could say something and suddenly, you’re pulled back to something you swore you’d put behind you. How am I supposed to feel secure when she still has that power over you?”

“And what am I supposed to do, then? Apologize for things I don’t even feel anymore?”

You flinch at the sharpness in his voice. A low, frustrated noise rumbles in his chest when you don’t respond.

“You’re always going to question me no matter what I say, aren’t you?"

You glance over at him, catching the disheveled strands of hair falling over his forehead, and it pulls you back to that night he came home after that dreadful night. He’d walked in looking worn in a way you’d never seen before, his whole posture weighted down as if he was carrying more than just the fear of being held hostage.

You remember sitting with him on this same couch, fingers brushing his, and asking what was bothering him.

JJ said she loved me.

Your heart lurched, a quick, quiet ache that you tried to swallow down. Really?

Don’t worry. It’s not true.

But with that same haunted look in his eyes right now, you can’t help but wonder if it really was just a well-intentioned lie.

“One glance and you’re accusing me of things that are never going to happen,” he starts again. “Do you really think so little of me? After everything we’ve shared, you really think I’d betray you like that?”

In true honesty, you don’t believe he would ever cross that line. But the doubts still linger, fed by those small hesitations, the moments when his eyes seem somewhere else. It’s not that you think he’d betray you. It’s that a part of him might still be holding onto something he won’t let you see.

“It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Now those words you might actually believe.

“Maybe I don’t,” you say quietly, eyes drifting to the ring on your finger. You twist it absently, remembering the night he proposed. How he’d stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing as he tried to make the moment perfect but ended up rambling in that endearing, nervous way of his. You’d laughed, reassured him that it was exactly right, that you didn’t need grand gestures. All you needed was him.

And yet, you don’t think he needs you as much you need him.

A hollow ache settles around your hand as you slip the ring off.

“What are you doing?”

You stare down at the gold band in your palm, blinking back the sting of tears.

“Tell me what you’re doing.”

Panic. Desperation. There’s a sudden rush of melancholy in his voice, a heaviness that wasn’t there a moment ago.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I don’t know,” you whisper. “I—I don’t know anything right now.”

His face crumples, and in a sudden, almost instinctive movement, he drops down to his knees.

“No, no, you do know me. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. Isn’t this—” he stops, then dips his head, trying to catch your gaze. “Isn’t that what couples do? They argue, they mess things up… but they work through it, right? Right?”

You look down, feeling the cool weight of the ring pressing into your skin.

“Spencer…” you begin. “I trust you. I do, and I’m sorry if I made it seem like I didn’t. But… I need to feel secure. I… I need to know that I don’t have to wonder or worry about where I stand. I never thought you’d be the one to make me doubt that.”

There’s a sharp ache in your chest.

“I didn’t think it could hurt this much. Not from you.”

Your pulse ring in your ear.

“I can’t—” The words catch in your throat, a stinging burn rising as you force them out. “I can’t be your wife when I’m constantly questioning if I have all of you. When I feel like… there’s always a part of you that isn’t mine.”

“I’m yours, honey. I’m always yours.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

There’s a slight falter in his voice. “Don’t—please don’t do this—”

“I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t hurt.”

He falls silent, and for a moment, the only sound is the rough, uneven rhythm of both your breaths filling the space between you. Then, like something inside him finally cracks open, he sinks down, pressing his forehead against your lap. The sudden weight of him forces a broken sob from your throat.

“Please,” he begs, fingers clutching at your sides. His chin presses deep into your thigh. “Tell me how to fix this. I can’t— I can’t lose you.”

“Spence…”

“I love you,” he blurts out, the words tumbling from him in a rush. “I love you.”

But what is love, really? Is it just a word people reach for when they’ve run out of things to say, a way to patch over bruised hearts and broken promises? Or should it feel like something more solid, something that doesn’t leave you questioning or aching? You can’t even tell anymore.

You wonder, too, if maybe you’ve been wrong all along. If this feeling in your chest isn’t love but something dressed up as it, something that fills the gaps while slowly hollowing you out. Because here you are, clinging to a love that somehow makes you feel like you’re both needed and unseen. Everything and nothing all at once.

You feel like a fool.

“I want to go to bed.”

His head lifts from your lap, a flash of surprise darting across his face, as though he hadn’t expected you to say anything at all, let alone that. “Yeah, okay, let’s go to bed. We’ll… we’ll figure this out in the morning.”

“I’d rather be alone.”

The words hit him visibly. His mouth opens, an argument forming there, but he catches himself, letting the silence stretch before he nods slowly.

“Then… I’ll stay out here. On the couch,” he offers softly. “Just… in case you need anything.”

A pang cuts through you at the thought of him stretched out on the couch, his legs too long, his shoulders folded in to fit the cramped space. But the idea of sharing a bed right now feels impossible.

You reach down, holding out the ring towards him.

“No,” he says firmly, gently pushing your hand away. “Don’t do that. This… it doesn’t mean we’re giving up. It just means we need time. That’s all.”

You’re not sure if your mind will change in the morning. The ring presses into your skin, but finally, you close your hand around it, nodding faintly before you peel away from him.

The tears start the moment the bedroom door clicks shut behind you. It spills over in a jagged, helpless cry that sounds nothing like you imagined heartbreak might sound. It’s messy, a kind of aching grief that feels too big for your chest, clawing its way out with no grace at all. You can practically hear how pathetic you sound, and yet you can’t seem to stop.

Even when the hem of your dress trails across the floor. Even when you finally collapse onto his side of the bed. There’s no stopping you. With the ring sitting cold in your hand, your tears keep coming, soaking into the pillow as you cling to the last trace of him woven into the sheets.

[menagerofmischief]

Nugget Update (MV1)

sumary: y/n's always giddy after getting a nugget update, sure she loves her best boy, but it also has something to do with the cat sitter sending the updates

driver!reader x cat sitter!max verstappen -> habs incoming... series masterlist

cw: not fia approved words, a bit of lance hate (I don't actually hate him), mutual pinning, the grid teasing the reader, lot of appearances from the reader's cat, kissing, kinda mean!reader (to the grid)

wc: 4.1k

a/n: this is my first time writing in 2nd person so bear with me. also, I low key hate this and it may be shit. not proof read!

“Well aren’t you a ball of sunshine?” A voice called out, disturbing the peace - or the closest thing to peace you could have near a Formula 1 track.

Your gaze snapped up, eyes narrowing as you took in the man standing on the entry of the RedBull garage. “Hello, Charles,” you replied, a teasing bite obviously heard in your voice as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know you wanted to experience what a successful garage looks like but I thought Ferrari had a better hold on you.”

Charles laughs, his eyes crinkling as his lips stretch into a smile. Teasing Charles was always a fun time but that’s all it was, just a bit of fun. It never stretched into something meaner, just two people showing affection by teasing each other.

Charles had been your very first real friend on the grid. The first to offer his hand with a smile and genuinely mean it. The first to congratulate you on a win after getting out of the car or the first to say that the next race would be better. Really, he was your best friend, but you would never tell him that or it would go to his head.

“Funny, very funny.” He said, his accent thick. His eyes slid around the motor home until finally meeting your own. “Lot of drivers are going out for drinks, came by to invite you.”

“I don’t Charles,” you started to say, going through your mental list of excuses, searching for the best one to use to avoid this social interaction.

“Oh come on!” He whined, rolling his eyes. He gave you a look that let you know you could stop thinking about an excuse because he wasn’t going to be buying it. “We won’t stay that long and it’s night race tomorrow so you don’t need to wake up at the crack of dawn.”

You pressed your lips together, the lip gloss previously applied making them slide against each other easily. 

Charles kissed his teeth, nodding his head along. Fine, he’ll play the game. “Some of the WAG’s are coming as well.”

“Are you really trying to lure me out by promising female company?”

“Is it working?”

“Eh,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Will you pay my tab?”

Charles scoffed. “Pay your tab?” He asked, sounding as if you had asked him for his firstborn. “You’re filthy rich! You have a bigger salary than me!”

“Yeah, they do pay world champions a bit extra, comes with the title.” You replied, grinning at him, a wide teasing grin, your eyes twinkling. 

“Fine whatever, I’ll pay your tab.” He said, raising his hands in surrender. “Now go take that suit off and shower, you look disgusting.”

“You look like a trash can threw you up!”

“It threw me up because it saw you!” Charles shouted back in response, his back already turned to you as he walked away, back to the Ferrari garage. 

And that’s how you ended up in the bar, an hour later. Squished in the not too comfortable and definitely not meant to sit so many people, booth. With George’s girlfriend Carmen on your left, and Pierre’s girlfriend Kika on your right, and deep in conversation with both of them. 

You feel your phone vibrate under your hand on the table, and the screen lights up, showing off your wallpaper, a picture of your beloved cat Nugget.

You tune off from the conversation the moment the message arrives, grabbing your phone and pulling it in towards you. Your face lights up, lips stretching into a smile as your eyes focus on the sender ID. Maxie.

Or rather Max. The very cute guy who was your cat sitter whenever you were out and about in the world, chasing the racing track. 

With a quick move of your fingers, you swipe up, opening your phone and going into the message app. Fingers quickly tapping along the screen of your phone as you type out your reply.

With a smile you closed the messages app, pressing your fingers against the button on the side of your phone, watching the screen go black before setting it face down onto the table. As you looked back up, Lando’s amused yet teasing expression caught your eye.

You leaned forward against the table, pressing your hands to the wooden surface as you attempted to get a bit closer to the driver on the other side of the table. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh nothing,” he said with a laugh. “Just wondering who you’re texting, that’s all.” He intertwined his fingers, elbows pressed against the table and leaned forward as well. “You were all grumpy cat but then you get a message and suddenly you’re all smiles.”

“Grumpy cat?” You scoff, rolling your eyes at the McLaren driver. “I’m not a grumpy cat. And for the record, that was Nugget’s babysitter and he was sending me a picture of Nugget.”

Lando laughs, there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you he wants to say more but he holds himself back. “Can I see? I haven’t seen the orange gremlin in so long.”

“That’s very mean,” you say, opening your phone to show him the picture, that Max had sent you. “Nugget would never say that about you.”

“That’s because Nugget can’t speak.” He looks at the screen and his lips twist upward in a smirk. “Who’s Maxie?”

You breathe out through your nose, teeth digging into your bottom lip. When you speak your voice is sharp, it leaves no room for questioning things or an invite to ask more questions. “The cat sitter.”

“I’m sure that’s all he is.” Lando laughs when you show him your middle finger before settling back into your seat and returning to the previously abandoned conversation with the two WAG’s.

The race went pretty smoothly, as always. Starting from pole, keeping the lead the whole race and with a 20s gap to car in P2. Everything after that was pretty much a blur, the interviews, partying through the night with the grid and boarding the jet early in the morning.

The sun already started setting by the time you made it to Monaco. With a sigh you rummaged through your bag, blindly feeling around the stuff inside before your fingers finally wrapped around the keys.

Opening the apartment door you walked inside, gently laying down your suitcase as your eyes settled on the scene in your living room. Right there, laying on your couch, in deep sleep, and cuddling your cat is Max Verstappen. 

His hair had fallen over his eyes and the position he’s in looks rather uncomfortable, you’re sure his body will be aching when he wakes up. His chest was raising and falling with each breath he took, little sighs slipping past his lips. Nugget was cuddled up to him, curled in a ball.

You looked at him for a few moments before starting to move around as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him up. 

Max had been cat sitting for you for a while now. Half of last season and now half of this one so almost a year. He was a sweet, kinda shy, mostly nerdy guy you ran into in a coffee shop and spilled his coffee. You offered to buy him a new one and he joined you for the coffee and you got to talking when he said he was looking for a job so you offered him to become your pet sitter.

At that point you really did need someone to look after your cat while you were gone, since you had broken up with your ex who usually took care of Nugget while you were away. And you couldn’t leave Nugget with your parents since your father was allergic to cats.

Now, your best friend who had been working in a different country had returned to Monaco and said she’d be more than happy to look after Nugget - but you wanted to keep Max around. 

Already having grown used to coming home after a race weekend to find him there, just existing in your space.

Nugget’s whiskers twitch, his eyes opening and he pulls himself away from Max, stretches out and then trots over to you, rubbing his head against your leg affectionately while purring. He let out a happy, albeit a bit too loud, meow when you picked him up and on the other side of the room Max began stirring from his sleep.

He opened his eyes, a bit confused, and rubbed his knuckles against his eyes to wake up, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light filling up the room. 

“You’re back,” he says, his voice is gentle, still sleepy and a bit quiet. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a sweet smile that has you immediately smiling back at him. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep, sorry about that.”

“Oh no, it’s no problem,” you reply, running your hand over Nugget’s fur as the cat lay happily in your arms. “You can use the guest bedroom if you’re tired, you know. The couch may be expensive but that doesn’t mean it’s comfortable for sleep.”

“I didn’t want to overstep,” Max said, pulling himself up into a sitting position. You approached the couch and sat down, the cat nestling in your lap and purring in content. Max smiled, reaching out his hand and petting Nugget.

“Nonsense Max, you’re not overstepping.” You cut him off, leaving no room for argument. You always told him to feel at ease in your apartment, that he was welcome to any food in the fridge and free to use the guest room as he pleased but even after all this time there was still a slight air of awkwardness backed up by the fear of going a bit too far.

Max’s eyes settled on you, your own focused on your cat so you didn’t notice him looking. He watched the way you cooed at Nugget, asking if he was a good boy while you were away and petting him gently, and his lips stretched into a small, careful smile.

He spoke before thinking. The words left his mouth before he even finished the thought inside of his head. “I watched the race,” he said, and your eyes instantly snapped up to meet his. He swallowed, already too deep to back down. “It - “ he licked his lips, trying to decide his next words, feeling like his tongue had tied itself up in a knot. “You were spectacular. It was lovely … simply lovely.”

You let out a breath, the corners of your mouth twisting upwards and you gave him a thankful look. Max swore he could feel his heart beating in his throat, and felt his cheeks heat up. “Thank you,” you said, your voice gentle, holding a comforting tone. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. And it’s nice - knowing you watched.”

“It is?”

You bit your lip, teeth scraping against you bottom lip as you looked at him, your brain running faster than the Sauber (like it’s hard) as you tried to come up with a response. “It’s kind of comforting,” you finally said, after what felt like a small forever.

You hummed, looking down at your nails. “I was thinking about bringing Nugget with me to the next race. It’s been a while since he was in the paddock.”

“Oh,” Max said, an edge of confusion noticeable in the tone of his voice. “Does that mean that you don’t need me coming over next week?”

“Actually, I was hoping you would come with.” You say, before you can talk yourself out of making the proposition.

Max tilts his head to the side, kind of like a confused cat and you try your best not to giggle at the mental image. “I’m not sure I’m following.”

“If you wanted to attend the Grand Prix,” you tell him, running the edge of one of your nails along your skin. “Cuz’ I’m still gonna need someone to look after Nugget, and you do that in general so this would just be an added bonus of traveling.”

Max is silent for a few moments and you think he’ll decline. You wouldn't fully blame him if he did, you know what the pressure of the paddock can be like. You’re about to open your mouth, tell him that ‘never mind, it was a stupid idea anyway’ and put him out of the trouble of finding a polite way to decline when he finally speaks. 

“I suppose, if you want me to then yeah, I’ll come along to watch Nugget.” He says, trying to ignore the nervous feeling building up in his chest when you smile at him, a wide happy smile that makes him instantly smile back.

“Great!” You said, the excitement evident in your voice. “Someone from the team will contact you in a while to arrange the tickets and leave the rest to me.” Max nods, he doesn’t trust himself to speak, not with the way his throat is closing up and it makes him feel like he can’t breathe.

“Look at you all giggly,” Charles teased, gently pushing your shoulder with his hand. He wiggled his eyebrows, a laugh slipping past his lips as you glared at him.

“Charles, why don’t you turn around and flash your pretty face to the crowd.” You said, rolling your eyes. You looked at the stadium full of people who were shouting out for their favorite drivers, waving banners and cheering happily. You smiled towards the stadium and lifted your hand up, waving your fingers to the public. “Give them a wave.”

“See, I always knew you thought I was pretty,” Charles replied, waving at the public. The two of you and the rest of the grid were in a wagon, going around the track for the drivers parade, so essentially you were stuck with him for at least five more minutes. “Now, do tell who’s got you smiling like that.”

“Is it Maxie?” Lando asked, the teasing tone evident in his voice. He pushed himself closer to you and Charles, inserting himself into the conversation. 

“Didn’t your mom teach you not to eavesdrop?” 

“No, no!” Charles said, shaking his head as he waved his hand dismissively as you, his full attention now focused on Lando. “Who’s Maxie?”

Lando smiled at him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “The cat sitter,” he said in a sing-song kind of voice. 

“The one you brought to your garage?” The Ferrari driver asked, his attention back on you. “The pretty one.”

“Hold up!” Lando almost shouted, raising his hands. “You brought him with you to the Grand Prix?!”

“I didn’t … well I did bring him.” You said with a sigh, there was no escaping this now. “But it’s not like that. He’s here to watch Nugget.”

“And for you to watch him - because boy that is one good arm candy.”

“Charles, your homosexual is showing,” you warned.

“But you’re not denying it,” Charles noted, giving you a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at him but finally gave in. “Yes, I’m not denying it.”

You stepped back into the motor home, your eyes immediately searching for Max and finally you found him talking to your lead engineer. As you approached the two you could start to hear their conversation and quickly realized they were talking about how the car worked and what went on behind the scenes at a Grand Prix. You found it cute that Max was interested in that.

His eyes met yours and his face lit up, the corners of his mouth twisting upwards into a smile. “You’re back!” He said, “After terrorizing everyone around and getting pets, Nugget decided to settle down for a nap. He’s in your driver's room.”

Max gave you a wink after saying that and you had to hold in a giggle. You excused yourself to go to your driver’s room, with Max following behind you. The first thing you noticed when you went inside was Nugget, curled up on the massage bed and sleeping without a care.

The next thing that grabbed your attention was a dozen pastries lined up on a small table next to the couch. They were all individually wrapped in tissues.

“Max,” you said, picking up one of the pastries and unwrapping it. “I really did mean only one pastry, you know?” You bit into the chocolate filled pastry, moaning at the taste of a treat you weren’t usually allowed to have when it was race week. “My trainer will strangle me if he sees.”

“I swear, no one saw anything.” Max said, shuffling over to the couch and sitting down. “I was sneakier than Nugget when he’s stealing my food.”

“Oh, now that’s a very serious claim.” You told him with a laugh, his own laugh echoing back. You picked up one of the wrapped pastries and offered it to him. “Take one, or five. There’s no way I’m eating it all.”

He takes the pastry you’re offering him, his fingers brushing against your own as he takes it from your hand, sending sparks of electricity down your spine. After a second of hesitation you sit down next to him, the two of you eating the treats in comfortable silence.

His thigh nudges against yours and you turn to face him, finding that he’s already looking at you. He smiles and you don’t hesitate to smile back.

The practices go great, P2 in FP1, P1 in FP2 and P1 in FP3. 

The qualifying is where a slight setback shows up, with quali being ended early due to a crash and a red flag, putting you in P10 for the start of the race tomorrow.  

Once the car had rolled back into the pits you wasted no time getting out, putting the steering wheel back into place before storming into your driver’s room. 

You pulled your helmet off, fingers curling into the bottom of your balaclava as you pulled it off, throwing it next to your helmet before bringing your hands up to smooth down your hair. 

“I’m not in the fucking mood, Pepe.” You said without turning around, assuming it was your race engineer coming to talk about the outcome of qualifying. “Fucking Lance and his fucking money made seat - if that little frog screws up another quali, I’ll be the one crashing him out.”

“I’m not Pepe,” the other person in the room says and you instantly turn around, your eyes wide as they meet Max’s blue ones. “And I’m certainly glad I’m not Lance.”

You looked him up and down, eyes trailing over his figure. You took notice of Nugged, cuddled up in his arms and looked at you curiously, and reached your hand out to pet the cat, a long breath slipping past your lips. 

“Sorry,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “I didn’t really mean for you to hear that.”

Max barely heard what you were saying. Too distracted by the sight of you for his brain to properly register your words. Your skin was slightly glistening with sweat, an imprint from where your helmet and balaclava had dug into your skin still visible on your flushed cheeks. Your messy hair, and your chest raising and falling with each breath you took as you were still working on catching up your breath.

Max blinked, finally snapping out of his thoughts and focusing his attention back to what you were saying. “They should have let you finish the lap.” 

“I agree but sadly that’s not how it works.”

Max nodded along, not really knowing what to say to that so he switched to the next topic. “I ran into your friend. He invited you, and me, out for drinks. I think it would be nice to go, you seem like you need a drink.”

“Yeah, I definitely do.” You replied, taking Nugget from his arms and into your own, stroking down the cat’s body. “Which friend?”

“Uh,” Max started, thinking of a way to describe the guy since he couldn’t remember his name. “Wears red, pretty, sounds French.”

You laughed, smiling at him. “That’s Charles. I hope you didn’t tell him he sounds French, he gets offended by that.”

“Then it’s great I kept it to myself.”

You laughed in reply, putting Nugget down to the floor, the cat immediately moving to a cozy corner and curling up into a ball on the floor, shutting his eyes. “The hotel is right next to the track, you can take Nugget back while I shower and then we can go - if you want to.”

“Sounds like a deal,” Max replied with a smile.

You showered and put on a clean set of clothes just in time to meet Max after he finished dropping Nugget back to the hotel, leaving him with toys, food and water. The two of you made your way to the bar to join the rest of the grid for a night out. 

Some of the drivers were playing pool while their girlfriends were engrossed in a conversation so that left you and Max sitting together, sharing drinks and talking.

“I just …” you started, cracking your fingers. “I don’t know, this quali really messed up my mood and I was riding on such a high after the practices going well. It all feels shit now.”

“Maybe you just need more motivation for the race.” Max offered, drinking the rest of the liquor from his glass in one go. 

“You have something in mind, Maxie?” You asked, the nickname slipping past your lips without a thought now that you’ve had a few drinks. 

“How about a kiss if you get on the podium?” He said, his voice suggestive. Normally he never would have dared to say something like that but the alcohol courage really worked wonders. 

Your eyes widened, clearly not expecting him to be so bold or to suggest that. He took your reaction as a bad sign, immediately straightening up as a wave of dread quickly sobered him up.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, the expression on his face shifting into a panicked one. “That was stupid. It was thoughtless. It was -”

“A great motivation,” you cut him off, putting a finger up against his lips to silence him. “It was a great motivation.”

His cheeks burned as his eyes met yours. He looked so vulnerable, his bright eyes impossibly wide. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“One more corner to go but you’re in the clear,” Pepe’s voice echoed over the radio. You blinked, your eyes focused on the track before you, the checkered flag already visible along with your team gathering in the front. “That’s P1, Y/n. Phenomenal drive today, you deserved it!”

“Thank you,” you said, your voice breathless as you moved your hands, going through the last corner and speeding towards the finish line. “Thank you, Pepe.” You repeated, swallowing your spit. “It was lovely, simply lovely.”

You put the car into P1, getting out and posing for a picture on top of your car. You could hear the shouts, the cheers, the celebration. You took off your helmet, ripping off your balaclava and putting them both into the car before turning around to face the team, eyes searching for a particular face. 

Finally, you spotted Max. Standing besides your engineer, a proud expression on his face as he looked at you with a wide smile. You didn’t hesitate, feet moving before you could think and then you were in front of him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down, smashing your lips into his.

The kiss was desperate, both of having waited long enough for it. He wrapped his arms around you, the best he could with the fence between you, kissing you back with need. 

You finally pulled away when you felt your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, learning your forehead against his. Nothing else mattered, not the public, not the team, not the celebration. Only him, finally yours.

“Simply lovely, right?” You asked, your voice breathless.

“Simply lovely!” Max repeated back to you, before kissing you once again. And he really did mean it - everything was simply lovely.

tag list: @formula1-motogpfan @misty-inferno @thelemonque3n @marvel-hotchner @strangemaximoff @folkloresreputation @pippyth3hippy @adharacambridge @theseerbetweenus @sebastianstansblog @tellybearryyyy @six-call @grussellsprout @oikarma @justcharlotte @annimausi

i hope i tagged everyone who said they wanted to be on the tag list. hope you enjoyed this one and keep an eye out for the poll about the next part of the series <3

[genericpuff]

I've been griping about the normalization of identity outing via social media for a while now. To put it simply, it's become almost some weird societal requirement that if you don't have every detail listed about yourself in your Twitter/FB/etc. bio, then it means you have "something to hide" or that you're not as "verifiable" because your account looks indistinct from that of a bot.

But that societal norm has really only benefited the people who profit off of that information in some way, whether it's through selling user data or through weaponizing details about a person against them.

I know that a lot of us love to use the fun little labels and acronyms in our bio that help others like us identify us as a 'safe person' or as someone who's in the same social/racial/identity groups as them. We're humans, we love to categorize things, it's in our nature (and it's fun!)

But if there's any time to start regulating that habit and challenging the norm that you're obligated to include all your personal info online - it's now.

There was a time when sock puppet accounts were expected and typical, not "suspicious".

There was a time when even age-sex-location was considered "too much information", but once it became the norm, we only EVER gave our personal information beyond generic ASL to people who we knew both online and in real life, or at the very least, people who we had known online for a significant enough amount of time that they had proved to be trustworthy (and even then, we didn't owe that information to anyone, ever; there are forum friends who I made online 10+ years ago and still talk to who do not know my personal information beyond broad strokes).

There was a time when simply being an avatar with a funny username was enough. And it still is enough, but massive platforms like Facebook and Twitter have been brainwashing us for years to believe that's not the case, under the guise of, "You wouldn't want to be dishonest, would you?" Through these same norms, we were led to believe that anime profile pictures are cringe, that having a fake online name is stupid, that the photos of you having fun at social events have to be taken JUST right otherwise you might imply to others that you're not actually having fun.

And considering how long these platforms have been around now, we have entire generations of children now who have been born and raised on that version of the ZuckMusk web, who have been taught that it "protects them" to express to everyone publicly their age, their school, their workplace, their family members, everything about themselves, because to not do so would be disingenuous.

None of this is to imply that the Internet was "safer" back in the day. I definitely should not have been on the Internet as much as I was when I was 13 in the late 2000's, it definitely did not benefit my brain development or my social skills. But the version of the Internet we currently exist in now is one that's been predicated on the false sense of security - the belief that if you're honest, everyone else has to be, too.

We've always had ways of identifying our safe people - by participating in the communities that we know are designed around our hobbies, our interests, our people. They might be small, they might not be as "cool" as the idea of netting yourself a big following of thousands of people, but they're also a lot safer and more genuine than that idealized following ever could be.

Don't feel pressured to include every bit of information about yourself in your bio. Even on Facebook, there's no rule that says you have to list your workplace, your school, your family members. There's no rule that says you have to list your personality type, queer labels, and neurodivergent disorders in your Twitter bio. There's no rule that you have to "prove" your life is real and fulfilled through the verification of photos, location tagging, and open-book sharing. If you share those photos, it should be because you genuinely want to share them, not because you feel some societal pressure to live up to others' expectations.

And I guarantee you, even your local mutuals on Facebook - your former classmates, family friends, distant relatives, coworkers, etc. - do not actually give that much of a damn about your personal life that they should be owed that much of a look into it on a daily basis. They've got their own shit going on, they literally do not need to know every detail about you.

I know it sounds scary. It also sounds kind of boring, when we've been used to a certain "way" of browsing and participating for years, that if we don't do so, it feels like being in the "out group" and that we're "breaking the rules". But I promise you, after spending over half my life online, those rules do not exist or benefit anyone who wouldn't profit off that information.

If you're wanting to learn how to branch off from major platforms like Facebook and Twitter and/or become more self-sufficient online, here are some guides to navigating the Internet like an old schooler that may help you!

FREE SITE BUILDER:

DIGITAL PIRACY 101:

(also in addition to everything mentioned here ^^^ they neglect to also mention Tor Browser which is a light and free-to-use browser software that allows you to browse anonymously; note that it's similar to a VPN in that it helps hide your identity online, HOWEVER it won't mask you from your ISP quite as effectively as a VPN, and if you sign into personal accounts with Tor, that's still going to obviously out you online lmao but I love using Tor for the odd time when I need to make a sock puppet for something and don't want it linked to my IP! and unlike a VPN, it's free to use!)

LEARN HOW TO USE RSS FEEDS:

People still use these! They're especially helpful for getting updates from your favorite pages and sites directly to your browser WITHOUT having to worry about stupid algorithm bullshit picking and choosing what you see. And many sites DO have RSS support once you know how to find it! (like adding in /rss at the end of a URL! Like this!)

FAKE EMAIL SERVICES:

LEARN HOW TO CODE IN HTML/CSS/JAVASCRIPT (AND MORE!):

DECENTRALIZED SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS:

I hope this helps arm you with some new knowledge in how to navigate the Internet like a Certified Old Person™️(like meeee!) Make your secret alt blogs for besties! Make your formal Facebook accounts that are clean of personal information and present the most neutral, safe-for-work version of yourself and keep the fun stuff to the secret profiles and chat groups that are just for you and friends/family/etc!! It might be "inconvenient" to have multiple accounts for the same purpose, but it's also INCREDIBLY freeing and can make your online experience both safer and more enjoyable.

Being "less" of yourself online does not make you any less you. It is your identity - you do not owe any amount of it to anyone beyond yourself. And in times like these, your identity is your greatest asset. Protect it.

[hwnglx]

pick a pile - what makes you beautiful? (detailed)

hello dear reader! let's take a look into what makes you so uniquely beautiful. breathe slowly, take your time and use your intuition to go with the pile that speaks to you the most. this is a very specific reading, so it's likely that not every message will speak to everyone. remember to take what resonates, and leave what doesn't. 𓆩♡𓆪

✰ pile 1 ✰

so, this pile definitely gave me the biggest boss vibes. you have very strong energy, with so much major arcana in my spread. i can tell you are not someone to be messed with. (also kinda feel like you might parent or coddle the other piles lmao)

your beauty lies not only within your immense strength, but also in your ability to stand over situations which can appear very dark and difficult on the outside. i do believe you come with your own struggles, insecurities, doubts and fears which don't seem to always find their way to the surface; but you deal with them in such a graceful and impressive way. i can feel some people being in genuine awe of how you handle trials and tribulations. i do think you've been through certain things which have given you thicker skin. now, you know what you want and need in life, you're aware of your potential and what you can do, so even if a situation presents itself in which you find yourself in self-doubt, you believe in the power of hard work and consistency.

you don't seem like the type to dwell on your problems for too long or allow yourself to drown in self-pity, but moreso like a person who feels this desire to work on whatever troubles you. let's say if a situation presents itself to you, in which circumstances seem unfavourable; rather than complaining or remaining stuck in this hopeless place, you'll likely be the type to think about how you can change and work on your own attitude and mindset instead, in order to come out the other side in a stronger manner. you put a lot of importance into remaining confident and keeping a grip on your self-belief. since you see that as the best version of yourself. you appear to be very mature; even if your age is still young, you seem to have a wise soul and an impressingly reliable, as well as responsible nature. maybe you had to grow up quickly, you just give off this energy of someone who had to learn how to be responsible in life very early on.

considering i got both, the emperor and the empress for you, i think a lot of your beauty also lies in your duality. you're likely to have this balance of both feminine and masculine qualities inside of you. you seem to be the type of person who can be assertive, more self-centered and individualistic in some ways, like you do think it's important to focus on yourself in order to find fulfilment in this world. however this doesn't distinguish the compassionate heart you carry for other people. you're someone with an empathetic and kind nature, someone who wants to take care of the people you love.

you could make a very good parent, actually. i think you balance this sense of responsibility, dependability and solidity, with a nurturing heart, a soft and gentle core. you might be the case of someone with a hard shell but soft interior. i feel like you're the type to root for the underdog. someone who takes people under their wing, protects them from external influences. like you'd take a bullet for the people you cherish. (i do think you might be more selective in that aspect though, like you do have your boundaries straight, and wouldn't just throw your hand in the fire for anyone)

this is a random message i got; some of you also might be on the curvier side when it comes to your bodily built, and it makes you very very beautiful. like i can tell that some of pile 1's bodies are bangin! like yes sir or ma'am, go rock that bod with confidence!

another very beautiful thing about you; you do not fear getting your hands dirty. meaning, you're willing to put in the necessary hard work in life. like “if i have to personally run up this hill for several hours straight, then so be it, as long as i finally get to the top!” you aren't someone who will shy away from bearing burdens and heavy weights on your back, you understand the need to hustle in order to succeed. you can feel this need to improve yourself, put in the required effort to keep getting better at everything you do in life. not just for yourself, but also the people around you. you want to be a comfortable and stable figure in your loved one's lives.

i keep feeling like you're just this person people can lean on with no second thought; someone who will have their back no matter what. very loyal, dedicated and passionate energy within you. i'd personally love to be your friend, like i'd feel pretty lucky! i feel like you're the friend who keeps their promises, who's okay with running errands for others. you'd get things done for someone if they're unable to do so; like e.g. picking your friends up and driving them random places. maybe you're the friend at the party who holds themselves back from drinking in order to be the responsible one making sure everyone gets back home safely. you just seem to have this devotion to the ones you love, and wanting to make them feel safe, as well as cared for. you might also be a huge hype man in their lives, always cheering them on and lighting up any dark place they find themselves in. you have such bright and inspirational energy!

you carry this beautiful balance of; focusing on your own interests, ambitions, desires and goals, but also remaining considerate and caring towards the special people in your life.

✰ pile 2 ✰

oh my gawd, this pile is super cute. so, you immediately strike me as someone very independent and freedom-loving. you love to have your own space, and being able to just do whatever you want, whenever you want. i feel like you just have this very contagious and bright energy, where people might trust you to make the best out of every situation you're in. you seem like a big risk-taker, someone who doesn't fear the concept of change, and isn't afraid of starting all over again if you feel like that's necessary. you're so beautiful, in the way of just being down and ready to do things others might shy away from. you might be the person who will drag your friend out the dark and quiet room and tell them to get out, enjoy the beautiful sun on your skin, connect with mother nature, appreciate the smaller things in life and find happiness in them, because that's where true fulfilment lies. there is this very philosophical and poetic side to you. i keep feeling like you might have significant neptune/jupiter/mercury aspects.. i can just see you running through the blooming fields in this almost movie-like way. (random but do you like ghibli movies? you just give me ghibli character vibes, especially kiki's delivery service 🥹 i love that movie, it's so comforting)

you're beautiful in the way where.. you easily see beauty in the world. you seem so easily excitable, and count all the blessings you have in life. i feel like you're the type to find something positive in everything and everyone. random, but you might love photography, and taking pictures of almost everything around you, just because you can see art in anything or any place. you love exploring new places, new cultures, understanding and learning about people or things completely different to what you're used to. you might like to travel, because you enjoy this thought of getting insight into entirely new lifestyles. you're very open-minded.

you aren't worried about leaving toxic people or situations behind if you feel like they just keep you in a negative place. it's kinda giving been there done that. i think you consciously reject negativity now because you're not at that same place anymore, and especially don't want to be anymore. you're so overly protective of your peace now, because you had to deal with so many tribulations, and took so much on the chin from life in order to get to this place of inner peace. you don't allow anyone to take it away from you anymore.

you also don't seem afraid to completely transform. maybe you even enjoy transforming yourself physically, like you love reinventing yourself and can find your identity in things like your fashion. you enjoy expressing your unique nature in that way. i also just feel like you're such a pleasure to be around, people likely just enjoy your presence because it makes them feel like everything will be okay. did anyone ever tell you about how your presence is therapeutic to them? if not, some people might think that without openly expressing it.

i do think you can be very emotional too, which is another beautiful trait of yours. you might be the type to tear up rather easily, i think your interior is very squishy and sweet. you wear your heart on your sleeve in this beautiful and special way. you not being afraid to express your emotions (although sometimes they can just take over you unintentionally lmao dw i relate..) makes you so extraordinary, it gives you this unique light and glow. don't ever lose grip on this wonderful side of you. don't ever feel ashamed of it, and don't allow anyone to make you think you're anything but beautiful for your passion! i feel like you genuinely care about the world, and everything that it involves. your energy is just so pure and innocent in a way, even if you yourself don't see yourself that way. your intentions and heart read as very sweet.

in addition, your beauty lies in your ability to see opportunity of growth in whatever life throws at you. like pile 1, i do believe you have had to deal with your fair share of challenges in life, but this lead to you being able to see how.. even situations that might look awful from an outsiders perspective, can serve you as a learning lesson. “what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.”

again, you're just so philosophical! i feel like we could just sit down together and discuss life for hours, in such a deep and intriguing manner. you seem to have a lot of understanding of the different complexities of life, just because you've experienced a lot of situations in which you had to adapt or adjust. so there's this natural know-how here, it's almost like you're not scared of life's upheavals anymore. you didn't let it discourage you at the time, so best believe it will not bring you down at this point in time. you're so youthful and almost childlike in spirit, but carry a deep sense of knowledge about life. like some other people might turn all bitter if they went through what you have been through, but you remained soft and sweet in this harsh world, which is such a beautiful trait to have! i sincerely applaud you, and hope you can never lose this truly wonderful spark inside of you.

✰ pile 3 ✰

oh, this pile seems so genuinely nice, but i can sense some struggle here too.. first of all, you read as a very humble and down to earth person. like i truly can't sense a single ounce of arrogance inside of you. you feel like you're an eternal student of life, continuously learning with every experience, and growing endlessly. you give off this energy of someone who's always so eager to expand your skills and knowledge on things. especially if you get hooked on something like a fun hobby, you're just so ambitious and approach the learning process with this modest, but determined attitude. you seem quite capable of dealing with constructive criticism, and take it as a way to further better yourself. like yes tell me what i did wrong, so i can improve. definitely a very hard-working and earnest energy within you.

you're so beautiful, because you live and lead with this sense of compassion and acceptance inside of you. you seem to have high emotional intelligence; as well as a lot of empathy for others. you're the type of person to.. hold this cup filled with love, in a crowd full of people fighting each other. while other people are overly competitive and at each other's throats to win over the other, you seem like the one who prefers seeing everyone as equally worthy of praise, equally lovable, equally deserving of respect. i truly don't see you enjoying to put yourself above others, simply because you don't see why you would want to. like i don't think you fully understand this need to argue and cause problems with others, it irks you.

you even might put other people's needs above yours almost naturally, it seems to come very easy to you. (did some of you grow up with a lot of siblings? i feel like there's this natural tendency to supress not only your own desires, but also your own emotions a lot.. i feel like you might've found yourself in plenty of situations where you needed to swallow your pride, bite your tongue, ignore your own emotions or grant others chances you yourself might've wanted.) you might be the type to politely hold the door open for people even though your arm hurts, offer the seat to the elderly even though you yourself are exhausted, allow your friend to grab the opportunity although you might need it just as much.

i do feel like you're quite peace-loving, and don't enjoy arguments at all. you seem excellent at approaching conflicts and problems in, not only this calm and collected manner, but also with this diplomatic and tender sense of understanding towards all parties. do you have any major libra placements? i can sense this beautifully non-judgemental energy in you, where you always seek harmony, no matter what situation you find yourself in. you also just seem balanced in general, and like not much can tick you off. some people might even ask you “how are you always so calm?” although i feel like you can experience feelings quite intensely once they take over you (i feel like you might cry a lot when you're on your own..) you just don't enjoy openly displaying your emotions, and might have problems expressing them outwardly. again, i keep feeling like this likely stems from a deeply rooted place, maybe you've just naturally aquired this mechanism within you, where you shut off your emotions and internalize them a lot.

you might put a lot of thought into how others view you, might dislike the thought of anyone looking at you as overly dramatic. you also seem pretty perfectionistic, especially in closely managing the way you're perceived by people, or the way you treat people. you might often fear doing them wrong, or overstepping any boundaries. i can sense an avoidance of expressing or asserting yourself strongly again here, because you just don't want anyone to feel like you're doing too much. (i know this is a reading that focuses more on positives, but spirit is telling me this selflessness in you makes you immensely beautiful.. maybe you even have a lot of egocentric people around you, therefore your kindness just stands out even more. don't lose that sincere heart you have for others, however; you need to listen to what you yourself want more as well <3 learn to balance these two sides in you out, because if not, others might take advantage of you)

i do think though, that a lot of this calmness might be a result of your maturity. it's interesting because on the one hand you can feel like the young student who still believes they have so much to learn from life, but at the same time, you do have a lot of valuable advice to give to people, just because you might relate to a lot of the things others go through. you seem amazing at putting yourself in someone else's shoes, i can feel people thinking you're a great listener.

i just feel like your unique beauty lies in this gentle, pleasant and mild energy you bring to the table. you'd be the type of person i could tell my deepest darkest secrets to comfortably, and i feel like you wouldn't mutter a word to anybody. like your friends probably can tell you the wildest sht they've done, without any embarrassment. or call you at any given moment, and you'd be there to listen to their angry rants or rages, and just take it all in quietly.

[fearecia]

This is probably going to come off as a trolling response, and for that I apologize. Please know that I'm engaging with this in a genuine desire to understand/figure things out. I'm also not super educated on a lot of things, including politics, so this may be my ignorance showing.

Also know that this is me baring my internal emotions and thoughts and not censoring myself. And I don't necessarily represent anyone or any group. I'm also trying to reconcile what's expected of me with my internal landscape.

Just... How? How can you not expect to be met with anger when trying to interact with the people that your previous actions and associations have so greviously wronged? How can you expect me to welcome you with open arms and understanding? Why am I required to be the gracious one? Why am I expected to turn the other cheek when I'm the one that has suffered? When I'm the one that's been afraid my whole fucking life?

You've held the proverbial knife that's cut me. That's shaped my life. I'm just supposed to look the other way because you claim you've put it down? I'm supposed to trust that you won't hurt me again, even unintentionally?

Yes, you walked away from a very toxic family. From an abusive relationship. You left behind comfort and safety for the unknown. That took guts and a willpower that not many understand. I applaud you for that. I understand the cost of walking away from abusers, of trying to repair the damage to your life that they caused. Of mourning everything lost because they kept it when you left. I also know that not everything can be fixed, and sometimes you just have to accept that it's gone forever. I also know what it's like to have to tolerate and play nice and hold my tongue when an abuser can't be fully removed from my life. Because they are family. And to not behave myself means costing me the rest of my family.

All this anger may make it seem like I hate you. I don't hate you. But I don't trust you either. And if you were a friend of mine that I was trying to help recover, there would be times that anger would slip through and show. Especially as I helped you unlearn all the things you were taught that are poison. When I called you out for the problematic thought patterns you engaged in unknowingly. Because dear gods, there's so much frustration lurking underneath the surface at all the ways people unknowingly hurt those around them. And some days I just don't have the spoons to keep it all in and be patient.. again. For the twentieth time. Because you aren't the only one I'm expected to patiently and personally educate.

I'm not perfect either. I know that. I suffer from similar problematic thought patterns and habits. I'm not always the best at listening when other people call me out either. I'm doing my best to work on it. Some days are better than others. Sometimes the anger at my own failings gets misdirected. I don't expect forgiveness for my wrongs. I expect to have to work for it. I just ask that people continue to hold me accountable, and if possible, please be patient with me. I'm not always going to get either of those things and I consider that to be fair. I'm the one that's screwed up, after all.

It would be easy to see all this as hate. Really, it's pain. It's grief. It's the reaction to growing up in a world that sees me as less than. As disposable. Where I have also been hated for simply existing. For daring to be smarter or more capable or in any way better than any male around me. Where I have to work three times as hard just to be considered on the same level as the men around me. And even then, my contributions will just result in more shit being piled on my plate with no recognition or recompense.

I'm assuming by "leftists" you mean "anyone not Republican" or maybe just "Democrats." I don't know. I've heard the term used to describe the nasty elements of the left, and I've heard it used to describe Democrats as a whole. The left has it's own version of MAGA. Every group has its bad apples. I think we usually try to call them out, distance ourselves, or otherwise not encourage them. This is a spot where my ignorance is going to show. I just know that the circles I run in don't hate people for having opposing views or for coming from the wrong background. Are we angry? Of course we are. We try to moderate ourselves and only engage when it's useful/helpful. Otherwise, we try to keep quiet and leave the interactions to the people who have the spoons to deal with it. As evidenced by this response, well, we don't always succeed in holding our tongues.

This is an extremely long winded way to say:

- If these people are spewing hate at you for existing, have you fallen in with the bad apples on our side?

- Is it possible you're misinterpreting corrections and anger and frustration as hate?

- If what I'm describing from my point of view is what you're referring to, what am I supposed to do with all this pain and anger? How am I supposed to treat you as a brother when you've been complicit in my pain? What gives you the right to even expect that from me?

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[carbondioxidewater]

Make A Move (Pt. 3)

americanfootballplayer!Sukuna x fem!reader

genre: slow-burn romance, college au, fluff, angst

warnings: none so far

word count: 3k

(-> Pt. 1) (-> Pt. 2) (-> masterlist)

A small gift bag in your hand, you're currently on your way to the football field. You figured it would only be fair to thank Sukuna for his help last thursday. All of your classes were over for the day and after your talk with Utahime - you had a lot of explaining to do after all - you found out that the team had training in this exact period.

Because Utahime is a senior tutoring juniors occasionally - as she had the best score in the mathematics exam last year - she knows about their schedule through a guy named Aoi Todo, who is also in the football team and simultaneously one of those juniors she tutors. You don't know how she keeps up with her own studies, considering she has that minijob at the hotel AND is a tutor on top of that. But she had always been a very determined woman and luckily, she only tutors every few weeks.

When you arrived, the team was just getting ready to start. You looked around the area to find that distinct pink haired guy you were here for and when you thought you had found him, he turned around and didn't have those typical tattoos on his face. You were utterly confused to say the least, when all of a sudden you heard a deep voice from behind you.

"Looking for me in your free time?"

You turned around and Sukuna gave you a smug look.

"Actually, yeah." you admitted and his face turned into a stunned one. He didn't expect you to be so blunt about it.

"I just came to give you that." you added and reached him the small bag.

"What's that?" he asked, mustering it before reluctantly taking it into his hands.

"Just a small thank you for last time." you crossed your arms behind your back and looked up at him, a genuine smile adorning your face. At this sight, he gulped. He examined the gift closely, slowly removing its content. He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the chocolate in form of a football, his mind went blank.

"You got this for me?" he quizzed, taken aback by the kind gesture. You couldn't help but chuckle, a small bluff following.

"No, I actually got it for the other pink haired boy over there." And with that, you turned around and pointed at the man you had mistaken for Sukuna a few moments ago.

"'The other pink haired boy?'" he repeated with an amused grin. "Don't tell me you don't know him."

You shook your head.

"I don't. Why would I?" you doubted to which he responded in disbelief.

"Because he's one of the best players of our team?"

"I don't really concern myself with football or who plays it." you confided to him, causing Sukuna to drop his jaw in a state of shock before closing his mouth again in a moment of realization.

"You knew who I was though." he then stated.

"Yes, because you're a well-known womanizer." you rolled your eyes. He just laughed.

"If I am, then why aren't you all over me?"

"I'm resistant to boys like you." you shrugged your shoulders.

"Really? How are 'boys like me'?"

"Let me think." you pretended to be serious, getting into the thinker pose. "Arrogant, insufferable, boring, nasty..." he nodded at every word, occasionally raising his brows amusedly but letting you speak. Sukuna couldn't hide his entertainment, you were truly something else.

"You think so?" He came closer. "Then why did you give me the chocolate? You sure you're not crazy about me, sweet thing?" he smirked and that startled you for a moment, but you composed yourself again.

"Don't flatter yourself. You know it's not like that."

"A man can dream." he sighed and held up his hands in retreat, eyes closed. Once again, you felt your face heating up, when suddenly some of the players on the field headed your way.

"Yo, Sukuna! Hurry up, before you're late again!" someone screamed while coming up to the two of you.

"What do you mean again? I'm never late for training!" Sukuna hissed at him. Then the guy was already next to you, though on the other side of the fence.

"And what happened on thursday?" he asked him to which Sukuna kept silent. Your mind went to work, catching onto his words.

"What happened on thursday?" was your next question, curious because on that day, Sukuna helped you out.

Then another guy followed after the first, answering your question. It was the one that looked so similar to Sukuna.

"He was one hour late to our meeting, delaying the bus drive and our whole timetable and all!" The kind looking boy unfolded and now that he was closer to you, he looked like a boyish version of Sukuna, who was rather mature in contrast. His words left you speechless though, Sukuna prioritized your safety over football? You couldn't believe your ears.

"Yeah yeah yeah, and now I'm never hearing the end of it." Sukuna complained while the others laughed at him.

"Deserved." The black haired one said.

Then Sukuna took the opportunity to introduce you to each other, exposing the one with the black hair as Todo and the other one as Yuji. The two seemed to be extremely surprised at Sukuna's action for whatever reason, stammering sceptically while greeting you.

But that was not what caught you off guard, it was the way your name rolled off Sukuna's tongue. Now that you heard it slipping from his lips, you noticed you don't reckon telling him your name, so how did he know? You instantly glanced at him and when you did, he already met your gaze, a knowing smirk on his face.

"Anyways, hurry now or we're starting without you!" the two boys exclaimed to which he responded with a simple "I'm coming, dammit!", walking after them while all three of them grinned.

And with that, the athletes said their goodbyes. You returned, leaving slowly but surely. Sukuna, though, halted for a split second, calling out your name once more. He was definitely doing this on purpose.

"Hey! We're not done with that conversation!" he shouted and you inwardly agreed, wanting to confront him about the new found information that was revealed to you.

"Is that a threat?" you screamed back and he beamed at you.

"It's a promise!"

And then he turned around, running after his teammates. You couldn't help but start growing a wide smile yourself.

In the distance, you could see them teasing Sukuna about something, but you couldn't catch their voices.

It was the next day and you were sitting in your linguistics class that was about to start in a few minutes, busy reading through the endless pages of text you were supposed to read at home. Thankfully, your lecturer was not there yet, but you still cursed yourself for not starting earlier, positive that you wouldn't finish reading it in time.

Focused on skimming through the text, you jumped when suddenly someone plumped down the seat right next to you. It couldn't be your friend who typically sat there, because she was sick this week. Of course, it was Sukuna.

"Can you stop doing that?" you hissed, still recovering from the shock.

"Where would be the fun in that?" his pearly whites flashed you.

"Why are you even here? Mixed up the classes?"

"Nah, but we have unfinished business."

"So you thought this was the right place and time for that?" you remarked sarcastically, but he replied with a careless "Yeah."

Shaking your head, you took a quick look at the time before taking the opportunity to confront him.

"Why didn't you tell me you had to be somewhere else on thursday? I would have been fine. I hope you didn't get in trouble..."

Finally talking about what left you nosy after yesterday's events, you wondered if he didn't have any classes himself. But that shouldn't bother you. You've had a hard time doing your homework and falling asleep the previous night due to Sukuna's selfless act, unable to stop your mind from wandering to said topic. You truly wouldn't have expected that from him.

"You know my reasons already, it was my decision. It was nothing your little gift couldn't have fixed." he flirted and you puffed. "I texted them I had to take care of something first and in the end, we still won. None of them was actually mad at me, so don't worry about it." he assured you and that soothed you a little.

"Next time, I'm declining your offer." you informed him.

"Next time, I'll make sure you're at the game then. Can't keep me from the game when you're at it." he smirked and you sighed. He was so annoying.

"I already told you I'm not into football."

"Yeah, about that...that has to change. Can't let you walk around not knowing who the heroes of our campus are." he exaggerated.

"Speaking of which, how do you know my name?" you finally had the chance to ask him that.

"Wouldn't you like to know? Maybe I should leave it to you to figure it out, like you did to me." he suggested, referring to you lying about sharing a class with him when you first met. The puzzled look on your face was enough for him to break out in laughter.

"But I'm not cruel like that. I know Utahime from Todo, I just didn't know she had a roommate. So when I asked him about it, he remembered your name from some of her stories. He didn't know who you were though."

So you both used the same method, the same opportunity to find out about each other? What are the chances?!

"You know Utahime?" Those were news to you. She would have told you if that was the case, you were sure of that.

He shook his head.

"Not in person, I just know she tutors Todo."

"You're unbelievable." you were shocked that he put so much effort into getting to know you.

Everything you've learned about Sukuna in the past few weeks truly surprised you. You thought he was just a big asshole that only cared about himself and had a shallow personality, but the more you got to know him, the more you realized you actually felt somewhat comfortable in his presence. Not that you would tell him that, of course.

"I know." he winked. "So, what do you say? You coming to my next game this weekend?"

"Didn't you have a game last weekend already?" And in that moment, your professor barged in.

Shit! You haven't finished reading the text yet!

"Oh you have a lot of learning to do. We have one every week of the season."

But before Sukuna could carry on his lecture on football, you tried convincing him to give you this lesson another time, internally stressed about your still due obligation of reading the text. But he was stubborn, not willing to comply until you pledged to come to his game this saturday.

The loud discussion in the otherwise so quiet room has ultimately drawn the attention of your lecturer, who quickly noticed that Sukuna didn't belong in this class.

"Mr. Sukuna, aren't you in the wrong place?" the professor voiced.

Sukuna apologized, claiming he only needed a minute before turning back to you again, everyone's eyes on the scene in front of them now. The lecturer was taken aback by Sukuna's boldness, but seeing as the period hasn't even started, he let it slide.

"Please, go already!" you pleaded whisperingly, shoving him a little but he didn't back down just yet. Thankfully, both the professor and the students started preparing for class, the noise slightly concealing your conversation and taking the focus from you.

"I'm not leaving until you promise me to come."

He pushed and you gave in, not daring to face the consequences if you didn't, and especially not wanting to make this situation even worse let alone hold up the whole class.

"Okay, okay! I'm coming! Now go!" And Sukuna grinned.

"That's what I wanted to hear, princess." he moved closer towards you, his lips right next to your ear. "Keep a lookout for number 9, he'll score the winning goal." he whispered deeply and finally stood up, excusing himself.

You let out a breath you didn't know you held and noticed some girls shooting daggers at you. You almost forgot how popular Sukuna was and that made the whole scenario the more embarrassing for you. It was in that moment that you realized what it meant to be around the campus heartthrob Ryomen Sukuna.

Home. Finally home!!!

You thought the day would never come to an end when during all of your classes, Sukuna occupied your every thought. You didn't know what to feel, you knew he was this big ladykiller who you'd never involve yourself with usually, though at the same time, he was caring and attentive and easy to talk to.

You discarded your bag into the corner of your room and freshened up a little. Shoko would come over soon and together with Utahime, the three of you would have a long due girls night again. Movies and gossip with your two best friends - what could be better.

All of you were sitting in Utahime's room now, you didn't have a living room because your apartment consisted of only two rooms plus a bathroom and a kitchen. You didn't complain though, you were already lucky enough to have two separate rooms, many dorm members have to share one.

Shoko was even luckier and lived alone. You always switched between meeting at Shoko's place and yours. Although Shoko didn't have a big apartment, her bedroom was kind of small, so she visited you more often than you visited her.

You were in the middle of telling them the tea and they already tried to persuade you into thinking that Sukuna was interested in you. You just rolled your eyes.

"It's NOT like that! Trust me!" you insisted, but they didn't sound convinced.

"He invited you to his game?" Shoko promted.

"And didn't back off until you said yes?" Utahime's mouth fell wide open.

"I don't know, this all sounds pretty much like it is to me." Shoko was certain.

"I'm not sure, he's really nice and to be honest, different from what I thought." you admitted.

"Just be careful. His reputation speaks for itself. Don't let him fool you." Utahime then added.

"Don't worry, I won't." you sighed.

"Maybe he's just the type of guy who gets off on your 'unreachable' demeanor." Shoko wondered, tapping her chin with her finger. Your face cringed at the thought.

"Even if, it's not like I don't know better than to be cautious. I'm not playing into his game and I'm definitely not going to be one of his conquests. I could never see myself being involved like that with him." you declared confidently.

It was true, you wouldn't fall for his advances, you weren't naive. Maybe you've doubted it for a split second, but you always knew what his goals probably were. And you were thankful for your girls for reminding you.

"It's for the best, really. He is really attractive, but his reputation is just not it. If he ever makes a serious move on you, please run." Utahime concluded, disguising her sincerity with laughter. You could read her like a book however and knew she just deeply cared about you.

"I can't go alone to the game though. Are you by chance free on saturday and would join me?"

"What type of question is that, it was crystal clear from the beginning that we would come with you! Excuse me?" Utahime announced, seemingly offended and you all broke out into laughter.

Oh, how you loved your friends.

A few days before the game, you walked to one of your classes again. This time, you were prepared. You had read the text at home and the phenomenon 'Ryomen Sukuna' didn't distract you from it. You were on your way into the building when you saw a big bus in the parking lot in front of it. It was unmistakably for the football players, you saw Sukuna and his team in the distance. Suddenly, someone bumped into you.

"Oh shit, sorry! Hey, I know you!" It was Yuji.

"Oh, hi! Are you on your way to the bus?" you asked him.

"Yeah! We have an away game again this week!"

"Oh yeah, I know, I'll be there! Good luck!"

"Oh you will? That's nice! I hope you'll enjoy our game then!"

"Thank you! By the way, I'm sorry for interrupting your training last time. I could see you and your friend were quite irritated." you scratched your head in agitation. Yuji seemed confused.

"Hm? Oh! No, sorry if we left that impression! It wasn't you, it's just that Sukuna never really introduced a girl to us before! That was strange!"

What?

His words shocked you. You wanted to know what he meant by that, after all, Sukuna had something going on with a lot of girls already. But before you could consult him, he already set off.

"Oh shit, I have to hurry up, they're already getting inside the bus!" he stressed.

"Oh, yes of course! Uhm, please tell Sukuna good luck from me. A-and the rest of the team too of course!" you passed the message on to him.

"Will do!" he beamed at you and ran off. He was so fast that it didn't take him long to reach the bus.

In the background, you could see Sukuna looking at you through the window. He was already in the bus, his chin in his hands when he winked at you. You winked back.

Great, you thought, you successfully failed keeping Sukuna from your thoughts.

Here's part 3!!! Wasn't content with it for a while, and I've been busy. But now I like it! Omg omg so excited for all the ideas I still have for this story. Next part will be about the first game we're at! Sukuna in action (WOHOOO)! Let me know what you think! <3

taglist: @miakxn @aureliaborea @nonamevenus @silkija @sad-darksoul @joh-ahae @weareundead

[yanmuffins]

asks 2.

context.

here are some more asks i'm replying to in a bulk about phineas and ferb reader!!

my favorite part in dc. vs vampires is when reader comes together with damian and damian to build a silly machine that un-vampifies people in like half a day so they can defeat the vampire king. it is canon.

@amethystjellyfish

perry really is reader's number #1 stan. they're his family, reader's had him since he was a small platypus baby!

he does his best to keep reader safe, which is why he doesn't like the batfam much. he keeps it professional on the rare occasions they go on missions together, but that's it. he hates how dismissive of reader they are in the beginning, and he hates them later on when they star showering them with attention because they found out about their inventions.

not tired, anon! i love seeing people enjoy my concepts and interact with them!! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

and i'm sure this has happened. more than once, actually. the power of coincidence is strong with reader. the life-saving laser beam comes from a situation involving reader's latest machine they built and tested with the help of jon.

unfortunately, one of his lasers richochets on the machine during testing, not only causing it to save batfamily's life, caught in a dangerous situation in a completely different location, but also destroys the machine so there's nothing to link it to reader.

ah, well. they'll just have to keep looking.

reader, seeing them run past her: oh! there's perry :)

i love how we have established tim is terrified of this platypus. nevermind the other pets in the manor, it's the platypus with its googly eyes that drives him insane. they don't get it, he got up to drink water at 3 a.m. and the thing was just there, looking at him. menacingly.

jason would though. meanwhile, perry is wishing he could just go back to metropolis. he didn't have to deal with reader's siblings in metropolis. he doesn't get enough hazard pay for this.

hm... good question!

i like to think that, much like with phineas and ferb, luck is on reader's side most of the time, so i don't see reader getting injured by their own inventions.

but, let's suppose they do: it's a nice sunday afternoon, the batfam has decided to gather around the living room and hang out, watch a movie, lots of popcorn and soda. they don't have to think about criminals or fighting, tim and damian are bickering, jason is around, peace reigns the manor.

until they hear an explosion. they run to the garage only to find reader on the floor, unconscious, bleeding, and an assortment of destroyed metal components to a machine they can't decipher. damian doesn't even feel good about reader finally being busted.

later, when reader is back home, awake and out of risk but with a bandage around their head and their leg in a cast, they're in for the biggest (and probably first) scolding of their entire lives. reader tries to play it off. it wasn't that big of a deal, they're fine, aren't they? and they're genuinely optimistic about it. but the entire family is talking over each other at first, until bruce signals for everyone to shut up and leave the room. he has a very serious talk with reader, and makes it very clear they're not to come near a toolbox ever again.

but he understands. it's partly his fault for not being attentive. he won't make that mistake again.

ofc reader is really upset. dick comes next, then stephanie, then cass, then duke, then barbara and they all try to convince reader in a much more amiable tone that hey, it's fine. who needs to do all that whacky stuff to have fun? just hang out with us. they can get another hobby, and this time they can make it a family thing! how's that sound? not fun? don't be like that... they're sure reader will come around.

tim is pretty much the only one who congratulates them for being awesome pulling all those stunts, one per day, it's impressive. but now it's time to step back a bit. who knows? try being careful and bruce will let you work with a welding tool again. one day. maybe.

damian and jason's reactions are more similar to bruce's. in other circumstances, damian is on reader's side and helps them sneak around to continue their shenanigans, but in the case of reader getting hurt he just wants them to not do that. any of that. ever again. and jason has to hold himself back not to snap and ask them what the hell were they thinking?! they could have died! he ends up just telling them to quit it. they're just a kid who shouldn't be messing around with that sort of stuff.

anon, i wouldn't go as far as say he'd use venom against them, but he's bit batfam before. as stated, he does not dig their vibe at all!

anon, that's a great idea! though i think p&f! reader is much too motivated by the creative process and experience that their inventions bring more than just willing them to come to life.

they have the power to create whatever they want, but what's the fun of it? what about hte process? the building? the friends they make along the way? the memories? i think reader would find the ring awesome at first, but the novelty would wear of in less than a week.

anon...

because i dig the idea of reader being friends with dipper and mabel. reader talks about their crazy inventions, and loves hearing about all the cryptids they came across during vacation.

reader invites the twins to the manor, they share their most recent summer memories. reader talks about that one time they built and drove a massive monster truck with their brother damian, but jason only comes into the room in time to hear about dipper and mable talk about the weirdmaggedon. he has several question marks around his head. aren't those kids a a little too old to be making shit up? or maybe... no, there's no way. or is there? no... he would have heard about this... but weirder things have happened. but what if...

@randomlyappearingartist

you are so right. to be honest, i don't even think the batfam would even know of his existence, since he's pretty much a very minor villain acting in metropolis. after perry joins the league, or in the rare occasion of dr. doof teaming up with another minor gotham villian like condiment man, is when they get to know he exists.

and since perry seems to have him under control, they don't even acknowledge the guy.

i love love love this sm!

they assume it's just flash mobs. it's got to be. flash mobs with really weird themes, like an entire musical number dedicated to the squirrels in damian's pants. that was strange. bruce patrolling in the middle of the night and this new crime lord just burst into a song with a band and hired back dancers, because it's apparently a new trend a minor villain in metropolis started.

and what about that one time dick took damian (and reader) to the library and some guy just started singing about how he doesn't have rhythm? and damian just started playing a trumpet? and reader started singing? i mean, it was a bop and he started dancing, but it was weird anyway.

but now i'm thinking of damian and reader singing the "summer" song together (he sings the "it's noticeably warmer" and that's it) though! wholesome.

@lazyandannoyng

not annoying at all! you're good ⸜(˙꒳​˙ )

i have this little idea in my head that reader doesn't take the wayne name when find out bruce is their dad and move to gotham, and bruce is pretty secretive about this new kid of his for purely privacy and safety reasons. so when reader does their networking, it's often not obvious they're a wayne. not sure if this will make it into the fic, but it really resonates with this concept!

it's also funny to think that a lot of people don't even know reader and the waynes are related. even if they do know reader is related to the batfam, nobody really talks about them by name (just "your sibling"), and all of those little details like never asking about where the gloves came from (because why would he) or the misunderstandings where one party means one thing and the other assumes it's another (dick has many siblings! too many!) just end up helping reader not get caught. and i just think that's neat.

[dragonslaved]

All right, besties. I had my days of depression and (bad) ideations, I had my flare of anger. It's easy to fall into despair, but let's focus that energy to thinking further ahead. Firstly: by focusing on our health and eating.

You've probably noticed in the last few months, a lot of food recalls from the FDA. The majority of these, particularly the most recent ones around heavily processed chicken in ready-meals and beef in fast food restaurants, are a direct result of the 45th president cutting back health regulations in industrialized food production four to six years ago that we're just now seeing the results of as it's gone through the process and finally hit shelves.

Now would be a good time to start looking into your local farmer's markets and sourcing your meats and produce from locally owned farms you trust. Start developing a good relationship with your local farmers and butchers. When you go to see them, just get to know them and ask some general questions.

A lot of these places are family run, particularly if you're not close to a large metropolitan area. So when you go to see these folks and they make small talk (because they will, they want to know what brought you out, how'd you find their farm, what kinds of meats and cuts and whatever you're looking for, just genuine small talk), do not bring up politics or USDA regulations. Literally just tell them that you're interested in sourcing and supporting local agriculture and farming (which is true, you are wanting to get away from big corporate industrialized meat production).

If your area has a good farmer's market during the spring/summer/fall, absolutely hit that up. The one close by me not only has good meats and produce, but also honey, different kinds of cheeses, all sorts of things. Farmer's markets closer to a city or metropolitan area will usually only be on weekends during the warmer seasons so keep an eye out and check out any options you have.

I'll give a starting resource for you: https://www.localharvest.org/locations/

Any local farms or farmer's markets that are registered there in the mainland US will have some listings there with hours of operation, location and what they produce, as well as if they're a farm, a farmer's market, a grocery, or a local restaurant, as well as reviews. Use that and source further and find other farms that aren't registered on that site that may have more of what you're looking for. The farming community talk to each other and they know what's up with the other farms.

If you want to go out and pick your own produce (berries, fruits, etc), there's https://upickfarmlocator.com/ that will show you any "u-pick" farms and orchards in your area. It's a pretty in depth resource that I'd recommend using if you're able to go out and do that.

There are a few urban harvesting resources like fallingfruit, but I'm not as familiar with that so I can't in good faith recommend it until I've done some research into it myself.

I'm mostly familiar with chicken farms and fish ponds so I can't provide much insight to cattle or game meat, unfortunately. If anyone who sees this post is familiar, please feel free to add on. I'm also not a source for how to skin your meat or pluck your birds, so again, if anyone seeing this has any insight, please please add on to this.

Let's keep each other healthy and strong so we can fight the good fight ahead of us. The biggest advice I can give to anyone starting this journey is to research. Research anything you're interested in and don't give up.

I'll update this post with any other resources I find, or that others add on. This post is recent as of 2024-11-08.

(And yes, I know, before anyone comes rushing in, I understand this is not as easy for larger metropolitan areas or food deserts. Yes I know not everyone has the ability to go out and do this, and not everyone has easy transportation to haul goods back. This is where the "community" part comes if you can coordinate a group renting a car or someone who does drive to get everyone out there and back. And yes, before other folks come in, I understand sometimes it's better to grow your own produce and raise your own livestock, this is for the folks who don't have the ability to whether that's because of physical disabilities, lack of space [Hi, I live in a condo and have no space to grow my own in fact], or any other reason why they can't.)

[bxnfire]

Silver Tongue || Satoru Gojo

✎ synopsis: after losing a bet to geto, gojo has to go get a piercing of geto’s choice, but this was far from a punishment; you were his piercer, and one thing sure leads to another when dealing with someone with a silver tongue like gojo

✎ content/warnings: piercer!reader x gojo, smut, fluff, oral (f. receiving), semi-public, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, masturabation, needles (?), pet names, dirty talk, mutual pining, flirting

✎ a/n: bra i saw this random mf on tiktok with a tongue piercing and decided my beautiful man should have one as well. enjoy <3!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏMINORS DNI ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ

Geto and Gojo have been friends for a really long time. Their dynamic is a chaotic one, but it works for them just fine. It is not uncommon for the 2 to go out a lot, but what is uncommon is Gojo losing bets. Gojo was cocky, yeah, but he had a reason to be; he was the kind of guy to be good at what he tried his hand at no matter what, often leaving Geto amused by trying to figure out what it was he couldn’t do.

Turns out, Gojo’s biggest enemy was his very own ego. After a long day of doing random physical activities, Geto challenged Gojo to a simple race. Of course, Gojo was fatigued but he let his ego take the best of him, and thus accepted Geto’s challenge.

“But,” Geto added, “if I win, you’re getting a piercing. Of my choice.”

“So then if I win, you’re getting my initials tattooed on your arm,” Gojo said cheekily, trying to think of the stupidest font to request at the tattoo shop.

“You’re so on,” Geto replied. And with that, they had a race. But much to Gojo’s dismay and Geto’s amusement (or rather, amazement?), the former lost.

That is how the pair found themselves at 1 a.m. at the door of the tattoo shop you worked at. You were a great tattoo artist and piercer, but since you were still in college you were often given later shifts, which allowed you to meet interesting characters, this duo being one of them.

You were sitting at the counter working on some new designs when you heard the door open, and once you looked up you made eye contact with the deepest cerulean eyes you had ever seen. Unaware that you were starring, you got startled once the man next to him spoke to you.

“Hey there Y/n, nice to meet ya,” said the black-haired male, looking at your name tag, startling partly because you were in a trance watching the white-haired guy next to him, and partly because his voice was oddly… sultry.

“Hi, whatcha thinking of getting today?” You ask him, eyeing his piercings.

“Well the thing is we’re not here for me today, though I may come back; we’re here for him,” he smiled, gesturing towards the guy that had you in a trance.

“Yeah…. I’m getting a piercing today,” he said, looking deep into your eyes.

You swallow before replying. “So then, what piercing would you like?”

“What’s popular with girls these days?” He says smirking.

The black-haired guy laughs, slapping him in the back. “You’re so dumb,” he manages to get out between laughs.

“Well,” you paused, genuinely trying to answer his question, “I’ve seen a lot of girls go crazy for some eyebrow and nose piercings. You could also get traditional earrings of course, they’re always good starter piercing.”

“I don’t know if I want it to be so apparent though… but I like the eyebrow piercing suggesting,” he responds, deep in thought.

“Not too quick Satoru, remember our bet: I get to choose your piercing,” he cuts quick, looking at Satoru.

“Oh… Bring it on then, I could rock anything,” he laughed, his pride shining through.

“You’re so damn cocky, I’d like to shut you up… actually, yes, I’ll shut you up,” he then turns to you, “he’ll be getting a tongue piercing tonight,” he says, decidedly.

“I hope you’re not a foodie then,” you say amused, catching on the dynamic between the two.

“Suguru,” he cries, “you KNOW this won’t end well.”

“Well that’s part of the point isn’t it?” He smiles softly, his angelic tone just making it funnier.

“Well, I’ll start setting up my station,” you say, looking through a couple of drawers until you find tongue jewelry. “While I set up, pick one of these, I recommend the first 3 at the top, they’re nicer while you’re healing.”

As soon as you leave, Satoru starts looking through the selection of piercings. Pills, dice, even a marijuana leaf, and he giggles, but in the end, he does take up on your recommendation and chooses a simple, silver stud.

“I can’t wait to hear you speak after this,” Geto says.

“Oh shut up,” he replies.

“Ready! Please come over here,” you shout from your station, putting your gloves on.

“Coming!” Said Satoru, and as he started walking Geto followed.

As he sits down on the chair, he shows you the piercing he chose.

“I see you took on my recommendation,” you say looking at him and smiling, and Satoru felt his heart flutter.

“Y-Yeah, I did,” he replied, trying to hide how flustered he was.

“You nervous?” You ask, catching on to his stutters.

“You could say that,” he laughs, happy he could cover it up so easily.

And sure, maybe to you he could, but not to Geto. He quickly caught on the fact that Gojo was flustered because of you. Having known the guy for years, he knew how he reacted to injuries, danger, and even needles, and he never gets flustered, no. He’s also seen him around girls he finds attractive, and while Satoru is able to talk to them, he does get flustered at first. How adorable.

“Yeah, he’s scared alright,” Geto says, teasing Satoru.

“Don’t worry! Tongue piercings aren’t typically the most hurtful ones. Of course, it varies from person to person, but having pierced and heard from several people about them, they’re not terrible,” you say reassuringly.

What an angel, Satoru thinks. Though he’d never admit it to Suguru, he was starting to be glad he got him in this predicament. You were so cute, so sweet trying to make him feel better, and he couldn’t help but notice the piercings and tattoos that adorned your beautiful body. He wondered if there were other masterpieces hidden under your clothes.

Trying not to pry on it too much, he watched you get a marker and come close to him, so close he could smell your sweet scent. Shit, maybe looking at you could be my anesthesia, he thought.

“Alright then! Please take out your tongue, I need to mark the spot where I’ll pierce,” you say.

“Well then,” he says, taking his tongue out. Getting a funny feeling as you mark his skin, he tries not to giggle in fear it’d mess up your work.

You pull away and then put a mirror so he can look at his face. “Do you like how it looks there? Or would you want it someplace else?”

“That looks perfect, let’s do it,” he says.

“Great! Then sit while I get my stuff,” you say.

“What’s your name again?” You ask.

“You can call me Gojo,” he replies.

“Ok Gojo, Take a deep breath in,” you say, and as he does so, you put the needle through his tongue, “then breathe out,” once again, he obediently breathes out, relieved in the little pain he actually felt. This is when you actually put the jewelry in.

“Now I’m just securing the stud. And there ya go, take a look,” you say, bringing the mirror back.

“Wow,” he says, surprised at how much he actually liked the piercing.

“There’s some fun piercings you can put in once it heals, but make sure you’re taking care of it correctly,” you say, and then begin to explain the care process for the piercing.

As you 3 move back out to the checkout counter, you recommend some products to Gojo for whatever he may need. You also say he’s welcome to come back if he feels uncomfortable in any way.

“Or if you’re a busy man, here’s my phone number,” you say boldly, hoping it’s not obvious how attracted you were to him, “let me know if you have any questions as it heals!”

“Thank you Y/n, I’ll let you know if anything happens,” he smiles as he takes the paper with your number, automatically taking out his phone and putting the contact in.

“Alright then, ready to survive off ice cream for a while?” Geto asks.

“Sounds like a sweet deal,” Gojo replies smiling.

“Pleasure to meet you,” you say as they walk out.

“The pleasure was mine sweetheart,” Gojo replies, finding the courage from his new piercing, and luckily for you he turns around, because you’re left as red as a tomato.

As him and Geto walk out, you wonder whether he’ll text you with more than just questions about the piercing. Sheepishly, you go back to your station and clean it up, relishing on the faint smell of Gojo’s cologne that stayed behind.

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While you’re sitting on the train on the home, you get a text from an unknown number:

💬 Unknown: so what did you say helped with swelling again?

💬 Unknown: it’s gojo btw 👅

You smile. As you type up your recommendations and add him to your contacts, admittedly wanting to see him again. So then, conveniently of course, you ask for a contact picture.

💬 You: mind sending me a contact pic?

💬 Gojo 👅: [IMG]

The picture was of him taking his tongue out playfully, showing off the jewelry you had just given him. His cerulean eyes peeked through his round sunglasses, and with that you got flustered yet again, which was ridiculous: to think you had pierced nipples, tattooed in places where sunlight doesn’t quite reach, and you’re flustered over a normal selfie?

💬 Gojo 👅: you did me justice

💬 You: i think any piercing would’ve worked just fine 👀

And on the other side of the screen, it was now Gojo who was flustered at your words. Unknowingly, for the same reason as you, he asked for a contact picture. Bringing out your holder side, you take a selfie from an angle that shows many of your attributes, and Gojo isn’t immune to your charm. As he updates your contact, he can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks… and his dick.

He quickly realizes it was going to be a restless night, or rather, morning? The clock marked 3 o’clock, and whilst the world outside his room was silent, it was easy to fantasize of what it’d be like to have you there with him.

Squeezing his tip through his underwear, he thinks back to your pretty face, so focused and so close to his as you pierced his tongue. He wonders what it’d look like covered in his cum: would you lick it up? Would you clean it with your fingers? Would you make him clean it up for you?

The more he thinks of you, the hornier he gets. Taking his hardened cock out from his underwear, he starts thinking of what he’d do to you. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to see your body before him right now. Is there any piercings he didn’t catch on you having? Tattoos? Would you like him to kiss those on you? Maybe even lick them? You would probably taste so sweet, yeah, as sweet as you smell or as sweet as you sound.

At this point, he’s fisting himself quickly, massaging his balls every now and then, soon to reach his release. He remembers your sweet voice saying his surname, your laugh as you watched him and Suguru’s banter, and your beautiful eyes looking at him. With that, he came all over his hand, deciding he had to see you soon.

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As the days passed, you and Gojo texted more and more. Your conversations always started with a silly question about the piercing from him, and from then on it would range from your favorite subjects to trips you have made and your favorite foods. You found yourself crushing hard on Gojo, taking little notes of the things he liked and wanted to do, and trying to gather up the courage to ask him to hangout.

Lucky for you, he had been feeling the same, except he was bolder than you, and thus, he asked first.

💬 Gojo 👅: y/nnnnn

💬 Gojo 👅: you free tonight??

💬 Gojo 👅: there’s this place i wanted to check out near your job, so maybe before you start your shift we could go?

You were ecstatic. Quickly confirming that you were down, you get dressed and head out for the door. Reaching your meet-up spot, you anxiously wait for Gojo. To calm your nerves down, you scroll through TikTok and find yourself laughing at the stupidest videos. Not noticing a tall presence behind you, Gojo decides to surprise you, crouching down to your level to whisper in your ear.

“What’s so funny, doll?” He asks, completely scaring you.

“Gojo! Dont sneak up on me like that again,” you say, relieved that it’s him and not a weirdo, and he laughs at your scared state.

“But where’s the fun in that?” He asks cheekily, and then he begins walking to the place he wanted to go.

You two chitchat nonstop on the way there. You had nurtured a sweet friendship in the little time you guys had known each other. You really appreciated how funny Gojo was, telling you things that made you wonder just how his mind worked. There truly was never a dull moment between the two of you. The more you knew him, the more into him you became. Sometimes you could feel the tension between the two of you, walking together while your hands brushed against each other, him asking you to check on his piercing often and you having to get so close to his handsome face, and other things like that which gave your stomach butterflies.

After eating at that new restaurant, you suddenly remembered that Gojo’s piercing was now fully healed, and knowing his spontaneous nature, you suggested that he get it changed, just to switch it up a bit.

“Really? What would you suggest, you’re the professional after all,” he says while smiling at you.

“Well, we could go back to the shop and I could show you a couple of cool ones, we got a new batch this week,” you replied, thinking already of which he would like.

“Sounds like a plan,” he says, and after that you two head into the store.

It wasn’t open on Mondays, but given that your manager really trusted you, you had a copy of the keys to the store. Rushing into the shop before other people noticed, you and Gojo get settled in the quiet store. As he waits there looking around the things you had on display, you look for the drawer with tongue jewelry once again, reminding you of the night you met. Smiling softly to yourself, you pull a drawer out and bring it on the counter, the noise of you setting it down catching Gojo’s attention.

He steps closer to it and starts looking through the collection you have. Giggling once he reached the marijuana one again, he asks for the one you like most.

“Well, if I’m being honest the one you have right now is one of my favorite, you can never go wrong with a traditional silver stud. Now, I remember you wanted something to impress girls yeah?” You ask jokingly, and he blushes a little at the fact that you remembered him telling you that when you met.

“In that case, then you should definitely check this one out,” you say as you point to one that looked sort of like a hammer.

“What’s special about that one? It kind of looks like the pill one you got over there,” he asks curiously.

“While this one may look like just a little “pill” to you, it is a vibrator piercing,” you say a little flustered, realizing how intimate it was after you said it out loud.

“Oh,” he says, now looking intently at you.

“Yeah, I don’t really know if you’re an eater or anything,” you joke, trying to bring up the mood, but you notice it only made the atmosphere grow thicker, so you continue, “but this one can really take things up a notch when you’re down there hehe.”

“I’d like to say my head game is strong,” he says suggestively, “but I sure would like to see how this would make things better.”

“I could change it for you if you’d like! Or I could walk you through the process so you know what to do in the future whenever you wanna change it yourself, but trust me when I say, any girl you’re with will be very lucky,” you say boldly, hoping he realizes the piercing is not what they’d be lucky about.

“I think I’ll let you do it this time doll, I wouldn’t want to mess it up,” he says, knowing he’d be too distracted thinking of what he’d like to do to you with this very piercing if you would so desire.

“Well then,” you say, growing flustered as you get near your station, feeling him come close behind. You set him down, and ask him to open his mouth, something that feels oddly intimate considering the fact that you’re alone with him, with no one walking in, and he’s opening his mouth with your face so close to his, to make matters worse, his enticing eyes looking right at you.

You get to work in changing the jewelry as you explain to him how it works. “So, to turn it on, you need to tighten up the little ball at the bottom,” you say as you demonstrate, and then he gets a funny feeling on his tongue as he feels the metal vibrate through.

“And turn it off?” He asks, trying his best not to laugh.

“For that just unscrew it a little,” you demonstrate yet again, and he feels the vibrations coming to a stop.

Feeling the tension between you two, he decides to take it up a notch and test the waters. “I’d love to try it to its full extent,” he says, knowing that the conversation would go back to a more explicit topic.

“I’m telling you, your girl will be satisfied,” you reply, trying not to pry too much on it in fear he’ll see how badly you wanted him to try it on you.

“Well, I don’t really have a girl right now,” he says, not missing the relief and happiness that comes to your face right as he says it, “but there is someone I’d like to try it on.”

“And who might that be?” You ask, almost breathless.

“Take a guess,” he says, not giving you a chance to respond as he’s bringing your face to his and kissing you right on the spot.

After the initial shock of Gojo’s actions and the fact that your very own crush is kissing you, you let your impulse take over as you put your hand on his neck and bring him closer. You lick his lower lip asking for permission to go in, something that he eagerly grants, and your tongues find a rhythm that leaves you both breathless, your cunt feeling something whenever your tongue graced his piercing.

“So, were you able to figure it out?” He asks cheekily, still blushing from the fact that you kissed back and lord, were you a good fucking kisser.

“No, I don’t think you were very clear,” you reply, the fact that you matched his energy doing things to Gojo.

You pull him in this time, but he took his initiative somewhere else. He sat you on his lap and started caressing your sides, not daring to touch your bare skin no matter how much he wanted to, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

On the other hand, it was getting harder and harder for you to play it cool in front of him. Feeling his big, veiny hands run all over you was making you ache for so much more. Not daring to say a word, you put your hands over his and guide them where you want them to be. You take one of them under your shirt all the way to your boobs, and in doing so you feel him moan into your kiss. Growing more confident at his reaction, you take the other one down to your ass, letting him squeeze to his desire.

He understands what you need want him to do and he starts gently fondling your boobs, switching back and forth between the two, as his other hand guided your movements to grind on his hardened dick.

You start moaning into his lips, and he abandons your lips to go on a trip down your face to your ears and your neck with his own. Finding a spot that seemed to have the greatest reaction out of you, he chooses to mark it for reference, just a little hickey to guide him later on, and one to let others now that you were his.

“This is your weak spot, isn’t it?” He says, relishing on the way you quiver at the feel of his breath on your skin.

“T-That’s one of ‘em,” you respond, giving in to your lust entirely, “but can ya find the o-others?” You ask, wanting to see how far he’ll go.

“Such a dirty doll,” he says, feeling his dick throb at your words, “of course I can find the others, I know you’ll guide me to them.”

Breaking away from you to take your shirt off, you shiver as you feel the cold hit your skin. Your nipples hardened and it was apparent through your bra, which made Gojo hungry for more of you. Taking it off as he plants a sweet kiss on your lips, he licks his way down until he reaches your nipples, and starts licking them and then blowing to keep them hard, something that had you grinding harder and harder on his boner.

“Can I try my piercing on you doll? Please? I need to know how you taste,” he says, drunk on your body, “I’m craving the sweetest treat of all.”

As he says that, his hands find his way to your underwear, and over them he plays with your wet pussy. Circling around your cunt as you whine for more, he takes your pants and panties off, letting him take a look at your naked body.

Admiring it like a master piece, Gojo stood what he’s doing altogether just to get a good look at you, wondering how concerning it’d be if he got this tattooed sometime. You squirm under his stare, and yet, you don’t feel the impulse to cover up or turn any of the lights off, if anything, you wanted him to look at you like you’re the last meal he’s about to eat.

And a feast is exactly what he had. Not even 2 minutes after admiring you like a goddess, he tightened the piercing and started flat-tongued to lick up and down your pussy. Moans quickly filled the room, the wet sensation of his tongue combined with the vibrations all over your pussy quickly overstimulating you. He puts his fingers in your mouth as his tongue finds its way to your clit. Lapping at it with the vibrating piece on his tongue sent shocks through you, making you buck your hips into him desperate to feel more than just his tongue on you. Retrieving the fingers you licked from your mouth, he put one finger inside of you, surprised at how easily it slipped into you.

“You’re so fucking warm and wet,” he says as he feels you on his finger, dick throbbing just thinking of how good it’d feel like once it wasn’t just his fingers inside of you.

Fingering you as he kept his tongue pressed to your clit, your eyes rolled back in pure pleasure, your moans now louder than they were before, sounding even more lewd combined with the sound of your wet pussy taking in Gojo’s fingers and his tongue slurping and keeping in contact with your clit.

With his free hand, he caressed your thigh gently, which seemed almost ironic giving how relentlessly he was pumping his fingers into you, how mercilessly he was working his tongue to please your clit.

You couldn’t take it for much longer. You felt your climax building up in your stomach, and just before you could tell him, you were splashing your juices all over his hand and face, leaving him shocked for a moment.

Quickly realizing what had just happened, he happily licks your cunt clean before cleaning his own fingers up, happily realizing that you’re even sweeter he thought you’d be.

“Don’t think I’m done with you just yet,” he says, getting up to undress quickly as he was eager to fuck you.

Coming out of your post-orgasm bliss, you notice how veiny his long, thick shaft is. Feeling your cunt clench on nothing just waiting for him to come inside of you, a curious hand reached for his dick and gave it a few stokes, filling your fingers get precum on them. Hearing his breath hitch, you quicken the pace of your strokes. This activated that dirty mouth he had on him, making you think that he’s nothing but a silver tongue the way he effectively had you right at his mercy.

“F-Fuck doll, your h-hand feels s-so good,” he moans. “Y-You h-have no idea what y-you do to me.”

You keep going like this for a little bit, until he grabs your hand and kisses it while looking right at you.

“I would love to cum off your hands alone someday,” he says, “but today is not that day, I need to be in your sweet pussy doll, can I?” He asks, placing another kiss, this time in the inside of your wrist.

“Y-Yes please Gojo,” you whine.

“Say my name doll,” he says.

“Gojo,” you respond.

He positions himself right at your entrance. Slapping his dick in your pussy, he teases both you and himself while his pride toys with you until you call him by his name.

“Wrong,” he says, now slapping a bit quicker, the lewd sound of skin slapping combinted with your moans filling the room. “It’s Satoru,” he says, trying his damned best not to moan at the pleasure.

Seeing you lost in that same agonizing pleasure, he dives right into your pussy, touching your cervix in that first stroke, earning a yelp from you. Wanting to keep his little game going, he kept talking. “C’mon doll, it’s easy, it’s S-A-T-O-R-U,” he panted, a stroke for every letter as he spelled out his name.

“S-Satoru! I-It’s so big!” You said, struggling to adjust to his length with how recklessly he pounded into you right off the bat.

“You can take it doll I know you must have a high pain tolerance,” he said, focusing a little too much on the feeling of your warm, soaked pussy, which squeezed his cock so deliciously, he knew he wouldn’t last long.

You, on the other hand, were in a whole other world. Satoru quite literally was fucking you silly, being already stimulated on your orgasm from not too long ago, his big fucking dick just had reached the spot you struggled to reach even with your toys. Blabbering some nonsense amidst of saying his name like a broken record, you feel your orgasm building up once again, something that Satoru quickly catches on to from the way your pussy was gripping his dick.

“You’re so tight doll, you’re going to milk me dry,” he says in between pants, “fuck, can I cum inside?” He asks while looking right at you, doubting how effective he’d be trying to pull out right now, and in all honesty, he was so lost on how good you felt he wanted to paint your insides, leave his mark, make you his.

“Y-Yes!” You do your best to say, finding it hard to get the words out. It doesn’t take long from here for you both to finish, Gojo making a mess of your pussy as by the time he pulls out both of your juices and his and intermixed coming out of you. He fingers you once more, this time to help you take his cum out. He then carries you bridal style to the bathroom so you can pee, in the meantime finding some paper towels to clean himself up and a little bit of the mess you left behind.

When you came back, he carries you back to where you had just fucked, and lays you on top of him to cool off together after such steamy sex you had.

“So… did you like the outcome?” You ask giggly, breaking the ice.

“Fuck, if getting piercings means I’ll get to be with you more then so be it. I’m coming every week for a new one,” he says, genuinely thinking of what he could get next.

“No need, I’d make time for you even if you didn’t get any more piercings,” you say, blushing at your little confession, immediately putting your head on the crook of his neck out of embarrassment.

He pulls you back, forcing you to look at him. You’re blushing, hair messy, and eyes slightly glossy after the intense moment you just had, and you’d never looked more beautiful in his mind. Smiling like an idiot after just looking at you, he says “you’re truly just as sweet as you taste,” and with that, you blush even harder.

“So then, will you be my girlfriend?” He asks suddenly, leaving you dumbfounded.

“I know it’s a bit of a rush and maybe not as romantic as I would’ve liked for it to be,” he admits, “but I must confess that I’ve had a thing for you since we met, and I couldn’t live with myself if you weren’t mine after today.”

You’re blushing so hard right now, but also matching his love fool smile, happy that he liked you back. “Of course, Satoru, I’ll be yours, but only if you’ll promise you’ll be mine,” you say, snuggling up to him and looking deep into those beautiful eyes.

“Oh doll, I have been yours ever since you merely looked at me,” he says, then he kisses you gently, you can feel his love through this kiss, which unlike the others you just shared, this one was filled with pure love and admiration, and much like the other kisses he had given you today, these were addicting, immediately making you ache for more.

For the rest of the night, you guys just stayed there talking to each other about anything and everything. Making silly plans for the future, confessing the way you both had been pining for each other, and just laughing at how funny this all was, how crazy it was that it took you two less to have sex than to confess to each other, but, it was just as meaningful nonetheless.

Going back to your apartment, you two settled in your bed, ready to sleep after such intense night. There, basking in his warmth, you realized just how lucky and happy you were to have your job, because after all, if it weren’t for that you wouldn’t have met Satoru, the boy of your dreams, and next to you, Satoru was thinking just that, and even if he’d never admit it to Geto, he was so grateful to have lost that bet and swallow up his pride, because now, he had something truly worth boasting about: you. Who would’ve thought a piercing would change his life? Certainly, he wouldn’t have guessed it, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[eff-plays]

I got a party banter between Bellara and Taash about how the Lords of Fortune steal elven artifacts. And then Taash clarifies later that they have a Dalish expert on the team so they can check to make sure the Lords don't sell something culturally important and instead return it to the elves.

Like. I get it. You want the Lords to be fun swashbuckler Disney pirates and Robin Hoods instead of actual pirates who steal and plunder. Because we're only now in Western society realizing that stealing from indigenous groups is, uh, bad. But like. Writing really uninteresting factions for your "dark" fantasy (tho lbr Dragon Age hasn't been dark fantasy since DA2) isn't gonna solve real-world neo-colonialism, ya know? The Lords not stealing priceless elven artifacts and returning them to the elves doesn't signal to me that the Lords are total rascally good guys, it signals to me that BioWare itself is trying really hard to seem morally conscious. "See? We know stealing from other cultures is bad!!!"

And man. Not to be a "political correctness has poisoned media" grifter on main (tbh it's less political correctness itself and more the commodification of real-world activism) but I couldn't help but imagine how this convo would've played out in earlier games, potentially even Inquisition.

You could've so EASILY made this interesting while giving the Lords and Taash and Bellara a lot more depth, while also making it clear that stealing from indigenous groups is wrong.

Just have the Lords, yeah, actually sell those artifacts. But also establish that the Lords take in and help elves from all walks of life. That they free slaves, or collaborate with alienages. Then you could have Taash defend the practice by saying to Bellara that little orphaned elf kids being sold as slaves probably don't give a flying fuck about some artifacts they're never gonna see, but the money from selling those artifacts goes to buying them food. And have Bellara fire back that preserving elven culture is also part of its survival, and that there are Dalish clans that would be willing to pay for them or offer something in return. Or have her say that the Lords are doing charity for the sake of recruitment rather than actual altruism. And then Taash responds that those high and mighty Dalish elves don't do shit to help abandoned city elves, just because those aren't part of their correct elven subculture, and they care more about reclaiming old glory than helping the people that exist here and now.

Then you could have side missions or at least codex entries that describe maybe some Lord recruit being conflicted about what they're doing. Maybe a few of them are collaborating to hijack a deal or steal back an artifact. Have implications that some high-ranking Lords are, in fact, using those artifacts for their own gain, despite claiming otherwise. Have some Lords genuinely trying to help, and believing that gold and trinkets don't matter as much as people's lives, so they sell them in exchange for safety for refugees or slaves or some other helpless group.

But no. Instead it's "hey do you steal from my people?" "nah lmao we have a cultural advisor don't even worry about it" "oh wow so cool and woke of you!" And then that's it. No need for any further discussion. No conflict and no complexity. No bad actors and moral quandaries.

Weh.

[tommyssupercoolblog]

Hey no hold on you don't have to be nice to men who are already actively being mean to you or something. Just don't be a fucking TERF who thinks men are born inherently evil and incapable of change. I thought the point was "if all I can be is a monster then I may as well accept it" not "oh no girls snap at me when I tell them they shouldn't have rights"??

The guy escaped the pipeline but the point of the post isn't about guys who are IN IT it's about boys who aren't. Who are 12, 15, not assholes yet. It's about stopping them from BECOMING alt right, not how to handle people who are already.

Like if you are told that identifying as man or being born in a male body (or both, a lot of people say both) makes you evil in itself. That you are discriminatory by default. You might decide there's no point in being kind because you'll always fail. I know you know men are individuals but just because you know that doesn't mean everyone does. TERFs certainly don't, and radical feminism is popping off at the same time all this other shit is happening. Their whole THING is that men are violent rapists from birth who can never be changed, and doing damage control rather than working for actual equality. There are people who genuinely believe that cis men, and trans men and trans women as well, are all dangerous and need to be locked out of everyone else's spaces.

"but TERFs aren't leftist" firstly they claim to be, but secondly...lots of queer people a d self-described leftists have been parroting their talking points without even realizing it. "I wish I lived in a world with no men lol, men DNI, kill all men hehe" reblogging posts from literal TERFs and not realizing it because they didn't say anything bad about trans people specifically, and because they go "don't worry trans men, you are also included in my DNI and posts about wanting you dead. Also trans women aren't men so I don't want you dead and you can reblog"

"sorry I'll delete that post now I didn't realize the "we should invent a disease that wipes out men" post was made by a TERF whoopsies"

If you already understand that men aren't evil by some god given nature design then the post.... isn't ABOUT you???? Yes there's plenty of people who know better than that but there are also plenty of people who don't. It depends on who you're seeing in your algorithm, or on Tumblr who you're following. Just don't let posts like that spread, so we can hopefully keep them from reaching too many people

You can still tell people who are actively discriminatory to fuck off. And you SHOULD. Sexists and rapists don't deserve to be coddled. But a pipeline starts slowly, creeps up over months or years as you listen to more and more voices of hate. This just helps people from starting that path- because a lot of them would hate the very person they are now in the beginning. It started slow

Edit: for emphasis or in summary i guess, If you already know men aren't born evil then the only thing you have to worry about is shutting down TERFs and people who parrot them. If you think the parroting is done with well intentions then you can always explain why gender essentialism itself is harmful and anti-femenist besides. Stop the rise of that and it can help

"as a guy who escaped the alt-right pipeline, [*blames it on Misandry*]"

[trippinsorrows]

ltye: in your hands

authors note: welp. here i am, once again. we're back with yet another 'what if' scenario, prompted by you lovely people in an ask that i can't seem to find to link right now. smh.

words: 3.3k

warnings: none. just sam being sam.

song inspo: in your hands by halle

Roman should have stuck with his first mind. Stayed home. Texted her some excuse about being caught up with work. She would have never found out the truth, and even if she did, he wouldn’t have given two fucks. 

Because this shit doesn’t seem to be getting any better. 

This dating thing. 

It’s gotta be at least the fifth or sixth one he’s taken her on, and each one has been just as miserable up until the point where he gets her on her knees, gagging or bouncing on his dick the minute they get back to his penthouse. Anything before that has been irksome, borderline miserable. 

Samantha is stunning. Has been since they were kids, and her body is the most desirable of the women he has on his roster. She leans on the thinner side of what he prefers, but the tits and ass are decent, regardless. She’s also just as kinky as him, which is why they’ve worked all these years.

But, the more “dates” Roman forces himself to power through, the more he’s starting to feel like bedroom activities is where it stops for them. 

Technically, he’s always known this. Even if he did have some level of desire to be in a real relationship with someone, which he doesn't, it would never be her. She’s vain, condescending, and seems to think she’s somehow better than the other women he fucks with.

If only she realized he views her just like he views the rest of the women. A warm body with a wet cunt to help him get his dick wet. 

“Roman!” Her voice cuts through his inner dialogue as he focuses on her cleavage. The dress she wore, short and tight, doesn’t help his desire to skip to the fucking part of this evening. “Did you hear what I said?”

“No.” Roman sees no sense in lying to her. “I probably don’t care either.”

She rolls her eyes and proceeds to continue like he literally didn’t just tell her he doesn’t care. “I was saying we should go somewhere.”

He’s partially intrigued now. Mostly because he’ll probably need to set her ass straight. “Where?”

She smiles and shrugs. “I don’t know. I was thinking Bora Bora.”

He shakes his head. “So go.”

She frowns, clarifying. “I said we should go, Roman.”

He scoffs, looking off at the ice sculpture in the middle of the upscale restaurant. A waste of money, in his opinion. “What the hell makes you think I have time to go to fucking Bora Bora with you?” He really wants to ask her what makes her think he would want to in the first place, but he’s trying to be somewhat less of an asshole to see if maybe this could work.

His Wise Man’s nervous voice balanced out with sage wisdom returning to the front of his mind.

“If the Elders are to force you into a marriage, why not with someone you already know? Especially someone who you know would have no issue in giving you an heir.”

If only Samantha wasn’t so fucking annoying.

She leans back in the chair. “You make time for these dates.”

Out of obligation. But, he won’t say that. “Yeah, but I can get my nut and send your ass packing in the same night. Can't do that if we're out of the fucking country.”

“You’re suck a di—”

“I’m so sorry.”

Soft. It’s the first thing that comes to mind hearing her voice. Light, almost. Kind. Even with just three words being spoken. And that’s just based off audio. Visually, Roman’s thoughts take an entirely different direction.

Stunning. 

Roman’s seen, entertained, and done a lot more with some beautiful women in his time, but the one standing at their table seems to have something more than all of them put together. She’s beautiful, easily one of the most gorgeous women he’s ever laid eyes on. And her smile, small but genuine makes him pause. As does her body.

She’s wearing the same uniform he’s noticed on the other waitresses, but none of them fill them out like she does. The white, long sleeved shirt that’s tucked into the knee length black pencil skirt can’t hide the curves he can practically see through the bland outfit. Nice, heavy breast. Curvy hips, thick thighs and an ass he can partially see from the front. 

This. This is his preferred body type. A woman who has something he can grab onto when he’s fucking her from behind. And Roman can only imagine what it would be like to be holding onto those luscious hips of hers while he—

“Oh my god, are you stupid?” Samantha’s annoying voice once again pulls him from his carnal fantasies. She gestures between herself and him. “Can you not see we’re in the middle of something?”

The girl, who Roman would guess is in her late twenties, early thirties at most, immediately looks repentant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I was just going to apologize for your wa—”

“Whatever.” Samantha lifts her hand, silencing the girl who’s now looking down at her shoes, clearly embarrassed. “What’s the special for this evening?”

“What’s your name?” Roman’s question comes out at the same time as Samantha’s inquiry. However, his voice clearly presents with more of a commanding nature. 

She swallows. “S–Solana.”

Pretty. Just like her. 

Samantha notices the way Roman is looking at her and is fully confused as to why he’s asking this fat troll for her name. She cuts in again, in that same nasty tone. “Hello? I asked you a question.” 

Solana is clearly struggling with Samantha’s aggressiveness, Roman wondering why this bitch is directing whatever unresolved feelings she has onto this innocent girl. “Umm, I think—”

Samantha scoffs, nose turned up. “You’re our waitress, and you don’t even know what the evening special is?”

“No ma’am, I do. I’m sorry. It’s just—it’s been a long day.” There’s a weight to her words, a sadness in her voice and in her pretty brown eyes. Roman notices all of these things and finds himself wondering what the story is. Everyone has one, and hers is suddenly of interest to him. For reasons he cannot understand. 

“Pretty unprofessional to bring up your personal life, don’t you think?”

Solana closes her eyes, pausing before answering. She looks exhausted. Mentally and physically. “It’s Squab. That’s the main co—”

“I’m a vegetarian. I don’t eat meat.” Roman rolls his eyes. This hoe has been saying that since they were in high school, yet every so often she goes back to having a normal fucking diet only to switch back to that salad shit. “What’s on your—”

“I’ll do us both a favor and get her to shut the fuck up.” Roman has had enough, both of Samantha’s grating voice but mostly her being a bitch to this girl for no reason. He’s a dick on the regular. He knows this. But, never has he come across someone like this Solana woman who, with just her presence alone, exudes such softness. Like, she doesn’t have a mean bone in her fine ass body. And she clearly doesn’t because anyone else would have probably lost their job by cussing Samantha out. Not that it wouldn’t be deserved.

Roman catches the faintest hint of a smile on Solana’s face as she redirects her attention to him. “Give her the salmon. I’ll take your best steak. For wine, you carry Madeira?” 

She’s pulled out her notepad and finishes taking down the order before answering with a nod. “Yes, sir.”

Roman’s jaw clenches at that sir bit. He could ruin this girl. “What do you recommend?”

She’s visibly taken back by his question, probably by the fact that he’s asking her for her opinion. “Umm—”

“Roman, I can rec—”

“I didn’t ask you,” he cuts that bitch off with the quickness, eyes never leaving the pretty girl before him. “I asked Solana.”

Her smiles widens as she answers in a more confident tone. “Julio Barros…..1950.”

Roman smirks. 

Exactly what he was going to order.

“I’ll take it.”

Their gazes linger on each other a second too long for Samantha’s liking as she cuts in once once more. “You can go now.”

Solana’s smile drops again, Roman suddenly finding himself all annoyed. Her smile is something pretty that he wouldn’t mind seeing more of, though that irritation is waned as he’s granted the view of her nice, round ass and curvy hips swaying as she walks to the back to turn in their order.

Samantha reaches over and touches his hand, Roman snatching it back and sneering at her. “What?”

She sighs. “Baby, I’m trying to talk about us.”

And just like that, he’s annoyed all over again. “There is no us.”

Samantha looks sad only for a brief second. “Roman, I’m not stupid. I know what these dates have been for. You’re trying to see if it could work.”

“If what could work?”

“Us.” She goes on to share. “There’s rumors that the Elders have been putting more pressure on you to settle down and make an heir.” Sam leans over the table, intentionally trying to emphasize her cleavage. It’s nice. He’ll give her that. But, he’s certain it’s nothing compared to Solana though and those big breast of her hers. “I can do that for you. Be that for you. Be your wife. The mother of your children.”

Not a damn thing she’s saying sounds even the least bit desirable. At all. 

“I mean, we’ve been fucking around since we were kids. Why not make it official?”

For a lot of reasons. All the reasons. The main one being Roman don’t like this bitch unless she’s choking on or riding his dick. 

What he does like, however, and finds solace in is the interactions with Ms. Solana as the evening goes on. They’re not very often outside of her bringing the bottle of wine and their food when it’s ready as well as a check-in here or there on how they’re doing.

Each time Samantha sending her the dirtiest look or just being an ol’e nasty bitch, to which Roman shuts down, cutting her off and even telling her to shut the fuck up.

The girl is just trying to do her damn job. And as his eyes locate and land on her on several different occasions, he can see that she works hard. Moving from table to table, almost saddened facial expression indicates she’s on the receiving end of more verbal lashings from people like Samantha.

That actually pisses him off, Roman having to control and stop himself from doing some out of pocket shit. 

Again, for what reason, he hasn’t the slightest clue. He just knows those brief glimpses of her actually smiling, usually when she’s chatting with a coworker, do something for him. 

Maybe even to him. 

And unbeknownst to him, the intrigue goes both ways, because as shitty a day Solana Miller was having, the handsome stranger with the rude girlfriend or wife or whatever has somehow, someway made this day just a little bit better.

It’s been some time, if ever, Solana has come across someone with such a presence about them. Him dining at this uppity restaurant she was able to score a job at tells her that he’s wealthy. His disposition and the fact that he somehow secured it to where the surrounding tables of where he sits have been marked as unavailable tells her that he has pull. But, the way he interacts with her, a literal nobody, she’s not sure what that means.

Especially with the beautiful woman he’s with, because while Solana thinks she’s every bit a bitch as most of the women who come into this place, she’s a stunning bitch. 

Which is why Solana can’t allow herself to believe that that equally beautiful looking man is looking at her in any sort of capacity. 

There’s no way in he—

“Solana.”

And just like that, she's frowning again. “Mami?”

The last thing she expected to see this evening was the sight of her mother, already dressed in her scrubs, baby in her arms. 

Solana’s baby. 

Her 11-month–old daughter, Soraya. 

The shock wears off as Nina gets closer, Solana shaking her head, “what are you—”

Nina shakes her head, face apologetic and tone contrite. “I’m so sorry, baby, but I got called into work. I can’t watch Raya.”

Shit

It's inconvenient, but Solana understands it. She remembers the countless times Nina had no other option but to leave her with a neighbor after being called into work at all kinds of hours. She’s always worked so hard to take care of the two of them when Solana was growing up. 

“It’s okay, mama.” Solana easily reaches for her daughter, a wave of relief and happiness washing over her as she holds and kisses her baby. The source of all her joy. All of the struggle, every bit of it, is worth it as long as she has her daughter. She’d do anything for her. “How was she?”

Nina gives a small chuckle. “She’s like you were and still are. An easy child.” Solana kisses Soraya’s temple. “Sol…..” And just like that, Solana already knows she’s probably not going to like what she’s about to hear. “I know you’ve said you don’t want to go after him for child support, but it’s not fair for you to be out here working two jobs while putting yourself through school to take care of his child.”

Solana holds Soraya just a smidge tighter. “She’s my baby, mami.” 

Nina counters. “She’s his biological child.” Solana looks away, hopeful her manager, Aldis, doesn’t come out and scold her for this little interaction. She’s scheduled to clock out in another half hour anyway. “He should be paying you child support.”

Her mom is right. Solana knows this, knows that it’s not fair for her to have to be the sole provider for her baby girl, while Cruz lives his best life as an absentee, deadbeat dad. And she’s considered on several occasions going to the courthouse to see what she needs to do to get that ball rolling. 

But, every time, she’s haunted by something he said the last time they spoke, not even a month after her daughter was born. 

“Don’t you get it? We were fine before she came in the picture! We could be fine again if she wasn’t.”

Solana’s never been more disturbed than she was to hear those words leave his mouth. That’s why she’s glad he’s gone, that he wants nothing to do with her or his child. Because she would never trust to leave her baby girl with him in the first place.

And if that means she does it without him contributing financially, that’s exactly what she’ll do. 

Solana shifts Soraya from one hip to the other. “I don’t need him, mami.” And she doesn’t. Because if Solana had to resort to sex work to take care of herself and her daughter, it’s exactly what she’d do.

Nina gives a heavy sigh. “Mija, you know I help you when I can.”

“I know.” Because she does. But, the same way that times are hard for her. They’re hard for her mom, too. Everyone’s struggling these days, it seems. Everyone except the rich people who wine and dine without a care in the world around them. “I’ll be okay.”

Always will be.

Nina gives a knowing nod, hugging her daughter and gently taking her granddaughter’s hand, kissing it, speaking in Spanish. “I’ll see you later, okay? Abuela loves you.”

Solana smiles. “Thanks, mama.”

“Always, baby.” 

Nina reaches Solana the diaper bag, Solana placing it on the bar stool, knowing it’s bound to be left alone. These rich ass people would never bother with the Ross purchase. With a final parting smile, Nina is off to the hospital, leaving Solana with her daughter who’s just now waking up.

“Hi, baby girl,” Solana giggles at the almost cranky expression on her baby’s face. Raya is definitely not the happiest camper when being woken up. 

A glance at the time reminds Solana that she technically is still on the clock and really shouldn’t have her child with her. But, with no other option, she accepts she’ll just have to clock out early and take whatever those consequences are.

But before that, the least she can do is grab the bill from the table where the handsome stranger and his girlfriend sat. She’s briefly disappointed to see the table empty, even if she remembers his deep voice thanking her for her assistance this evening as she brought them that same check earlier. 

It’s a silly thing, really. And she tries to push away the disappointment at not properly telling him goodbye. A stranger. 

Silly.

Soraya grasps at the collar of her shirt while Solana walks over to the table, pausing as she gets close enough to see that there’s more than just a bill with a signature. There’s cash. A stack of it. Money in hand, she’s confused, because this man paid with a black card, so what—

“Good.” 

Solana gaps and spins around, her eyes widening as she looks up. He’s a lot taller than she realized, burly body nearly eclipsing her view of anything else, silky black hair in such a neat, perfect bun. “Wanted to make sure you got it.”

Brows furrowed, it’s hard for her to speak for a lot of reasons. One of which is the fact that this man cannot be real. A man cannot be this handsome. But, he is real, and he’s looking at her.

And Soraya. 

“I—” She shakes her head, clearing her throat. “Is this—you already paid—”

“That’s not for the bill,” his voice is so velvety, smooth, and deep. “It’s your tip.”

Eyes widening, her gaze snaps to the wad of cash as Soraya continues to grasp and squeeze her shirt. She doesn’t even need to count to know that this is a nice amount of money. 

Too much.

“I can’t—it’s too much.” 

He chuckles, “do I look like I can’t afford it?” Her eyes roam over his big, muscular build dressed in fine, expensive looking clothes. He just oozes wealth. 

And power. 

“N–no.”

“Dealing with Samantha, trust me, you earned it.” Solana looks down, wanting to hide her small smile. His gaze redirects to the child in her arm. “Who is this?”

And just like that, Solana’s proud smile returns. “My daughter, Soraya.” It’s like Soraya knows she’s being discussed, lifting her little head to look at Roman. A big grin on her face before she buries her face into Solana’s neck. 

Roman makes a sound, and she can almost swear she sees the smallest smile on his handsome face. “She looks like you.”

That creates such a warm, fuzzy feeling in her stomach, “thank you…..”

He looks at her a bit confused, like her unspoken question surprises him, before answering. “Roman.” Roman. “Roman Reigns.”

Roman Reigns. Even his name is powerful.

It fits him.

Solana shifts Soraya around as she starts to get wiggly in her arms. “Well, thank you, Mr. Reigns.” She’s certain the shock of just how much money this random, rich stranger has given her hasn’t truly set in. Because if it had, she’d have a much more visceral response. 

A lot more.

“Roman,” he corrects. “Call me Roman.” 

“Roman….” 

Something indecipherable flashes in his eyes, something that makes her feel a bit unnerved under his intense stare. It’s broken, however, by her now irritated daughter.

“Mama.” Soraya makes her dissatisfaction at being still for too long known by punching her tiny fist against Solana’s chest. “Mama!”

“Shhhhh,” Solana kisses her temple, trying to quiet her down before someone makes Aldis aware of her presence. She looks at Roman, eyes softening, “thank you again.”

Truly. Honestly. He hasn’t the slightest clue how much this will help her. It’s why she can stand here without anxiety and concern about making it to the bus stop on time. Tonight.....tonight she’ll treat herself and her baby with calling an Uber instead. 

Might even stop and pick up dinner.

Roman nods, eyes briefly glancing at her daughter again, the smallest smile on his face. “I’ll see you later, Solana.” His head dips a bit in acknowledgment towards her baby. “Soraya.”

The smile is plastered on her face even as he walks off without another word. And it’s only a good two minutes later that she catches onto what he said. A certain word in particular standing out the most. 

What did he mean by later?

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Do the twins ever get attached to stanfraud? Does bill get attached to them too? what is their relationship like? and what is their immediate reaction to finding out everything was a lie -- first impressions? GAAHH I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS i'm ur biggest fan bro

Thank you so much!! It really means a lot that people are enjoying my madness this much!

It’s funny because earlier I was actually doodling him and the twins!

He absolutely gets attached and they get attached in return. While their initial introduction to him is very rocky, they come to enjoy his quirks and unusual interests, especially once Dipper puts together he was the author, and he regularly supervises them on adventures, mainly because Stan asked him too, but also because it’s strangely fun. He will repeatedly claim he hasn’t gone soft to Stan, but then Stan will find him fast asleep with the twins curled up against him, or he’ll catch him helping the twins in their respective Dipper and Mabel’s guide videos. He also likes Mabel Juice! Mabel won’t take his suggestion of adding eyeballs though. Alas.

His feelings towards them are made complicated by his own denial. He doesn’t like the idea that he’s changed much at all, and these new doubts he’s experiencing about his original plans are not thoughts he’s willing to entertain for long. He gets snappy when Stan tries to reassure him it’s okay that he cares, because he doesn’t care, he’s just… playing a role. That’s all. It’s all one big lie. He can do lies. But that doesn’t really explain the genuine panic he experiences when Dipper and Mabel are in danger, and how quickly he jumps in to protect them nor does it explain the fuzzy feeling in his chest when Mabel knits him a sweater.

He’s not the same as he was thirty years ago. That’s a fact. And thirty years was once just a blip for him, but this has felt like he’s lived a whole new life.

And on the flip side, Dipper and Mabel care a lot too. He’s off-putting and he’s strange and he says some things that imply he may have committed murder and gotten away with it, but they like being around him. It isn’t always perfect, same as it is with Stan, but the rougher patches don’t tend to last, and they reconcile by the end of the day (although, Bill is usually incapable of saying sorry verbally and shows his apology through actions instead).

Dipper for one hasn’t really had anyone he can just ramble about nerd stuff with. Bill can actually keep up with Dipper, and they both find themselves enjoying the debate they have about inter dimensional travel, or what sort of haunting would be the most annoying to deal with. Dipper does sometimes catch his uncle looking at him strangely though, almost as though he’s seeing right through Dipper and looking at someone else, but he blinks and the odd look is gone, so he must have imagined it.

Bill does sometimes push Dipper’s buttons, of course, and never gives him direct answers, usually making him look for the answer himself, or read between the lines, which Dipper comes to appreciate as it, so he claims, trains his mind for mysteries. They have a very fun back and forth, honestly. Dipper thinks Stanfraud is the coolest despite all the annoyances, and he really does try his best to impress him.

Mabel meanwhile is just her usual bundle of energy, and charms her great uncle by involving him in her unhinged hijinks, and showing him the art of glitter bombing. She meets him where he’s at! Even though he can sometimes be a little extreme, even for her, she pushes herself out of her comfort zone, mainly because of what Stan told her, about how Ford lost his mind while alone. Well, she can’t have that! She makes a real effort trying to understand him, and why he thinks the way he does.

He also weirdly gives her some good advice whenever Pacifica tries to bring her down, and Mabel is both comforted and inspired by how weird he is, even in his old age. He never lets anyone shame him out of it, and he encourages Mabel to just “Be weird! Your fleshbag life is short! Why waste it caring what lesser skin puppets think?”

Bill unknowingly allows both Dipper and Mabel to feel more comfortable in themselves because of how unapologetically ‘him’ he is.

Sorry if this is messy, by the way, I’m just writing my thoughts as I go along.

Anywho, I think all of this makes finding out everything was a lie very hard hitting for them. Mabel tries to rationalise it, that sure, maybe he wasn’t really their Grunkle, but he still loved them like he was, and they loved him like a Grunkle, meanwhile Dipper reacts very negatively, because he really thought he had found someone like him, someone he confided a lot in, and now he thinks he made the wrong choice, that he was an idiot.

And Stan lied too. He admits the biggest mistake he made was not telling them, but it’s too late for that now.

The one bright side, if you can call it that, is Stan and Bill do tell them before they get Ford back. They think they’ve finally found the way to do it, and Stan wants the kids to know before they try it, give them time to process.

Okay I’ll end there for now! Thank you so much again!

[monophobix]

INITIAL THOUGHTS ON ARCANE SEASON 2 ACT 1 (EPISODES 1-3)

(i’m not good at putting my thoughts into words so feel free to give your own opinions, i rlly wanna hear them)

SPOILERS AHEAD///

ok so my biggest critique is the pacing. everything is very quick very fast and a lot is going on. i understand that this is immediately after a large event which of course caused a reaction however it was just very intense and a lot to keep up with especially considering the amount of new and confusing things introduced throughout the three episodes with minimal slow down. it was alittle difficult to keep up. the timeline of the show is confusing and i have no idea how long it has been between scenes. viktor was barely in that weird healing chamber for a few scenes before he was emerging as someone new. caitlyn and vi were going from loving to fighting to understanding to fighting again very quickly with little time to develop independently, their kiss and divorce weren’t even 30 minutes apart from each other. also, who the fuck is this kid hanging around with jinx?? why is she following her, why doesn’t she talk, what’s her name, how long has she been with her?? this lack of time to let things develop has caused these episodes to feel rushed.

with this introduction of many new things some have left me with a lot of questions. my biggest issue revolves around the arcane. i literally do not recall it being mentioned or being an important topic in s1 but all of a sudden jayce knows a fuck ton about it as well as heimerdinger? when did he learn this? i assume it’s from viktors notes and research but that still fails to cover the amount of knowledge jayce now possesses.

HOWEVER THE ARCANE IS VERY COOL AND IM VERY VERY INVESTED. i absolutely love the changes to viktor, his weird apathy and changes are definitely rushed but so interesting to see, his design and behaviour are so very compelling and im very excited to see the development. additionally, this group dynamic between jayce, ekko and heimerdinger is soooooo fun. it offers a break from the intensity with some silliness i think is desperately needed, plus it’s super satisfying to see the trio bounce off each other. that final scene of them in ep3 was visually incredible and i loved seeing the effects upon the hextech weapons during the jinx, sevika vs vi, caitlyn fight. the scene of viktor amongst the shimmer infected was very interesting and it was so cool to truly see the severe effects of shimmer and the inhumanity of viktor is making a clear route towards his glorious evolution which is am keen to watch.

that ambessa reveal at the end was INCREDIBLE. i genuinely didn’t see it coming and it made my jaw DROP. the quiet, smart suspicion from mel is always incredible to see, her political mind and morals conflicting is so very engaging and she’s really developing into herself in these episodes which was a joy to witness. the mystery of her brother is compelling and links well through s1 and s2 to make the storyline fun to follow. i also simply must compliment the designs revolving around the noxians and animal-esque (sorry idk what they’re called) people. the absolute variety and inspiration from real life cultures is beautiful to see. i am incredibly confused about the magic and that one lady (amara?) but i assume that’ll be answered in later episodes.

jinx is not looking good lmao. i love her design being so corpse-like and deathly, it really fits well and really embraces the differences between powder and jinx. but i do wish we saw more of her. i see her actions but i lack understanding for some of them, primarily revolving around the child (isha?) and why the kids even there but the newfound bond between sevika and jinx is refreshing to see. the scene of them in silcos old office brought a smile to my face and the design of that fucking arm is soooo cool i love the clownish purely jinx vibe to it.

caitlyn is probably the stand out character so far (plus maybe viktor). her absolute grief and seeing her facade break down throughout the episodes was heartbreaking, the tentative yet conflicting moments of softness with vi were beautiful yet had that perfect undercurrent of tragedy that arcane masters so well. her rage and break up with vi was easy to see coming yet so incredibly jarring to watch, that harsh and merciless behaviour is so different from s1, the development is well done and a morbid pleasure to see. and that final episode. oh my. the shock to acceptance of darkness was fantastic, ambessa truly is a master at manipulating weakness in even the strongest of people and seeing this duo is going to be so soul crushing that i’m itching for more.

vi felt very rushed to me and alittle dry? idk why tho i can’t really explain it. i understand her choices but it felt like something was missing until that final scene with cait. that was an absolute masterpiece. seeing her realising that the horrors of war is corrupting everyone around her and pleading for it to please not happen is so so SO fucking sad and my heart was breaking. i loved seeing her moral strength and solidity to her values which has always been a key part of her character so i appreciate the consistency. idk why something about her was just… different.

the opening scene was incredible. the absolute horror of it was so clear and i was literally shaking the entire time. 10/10 opening.

overall, i hope things slow down alittle but i greatly enjoyed season 2 and im very excited to see the characters develop and to see even more of this beautiful world.

[ohno-the-sun]

Oh uh forgot to ask in the previous ask (the one with the digital piece of candy and scurrying and stuff)

How do you draw art so good

Like

Is there a method you use or is that just the style you've gotten over time?

you've activated my trap card

I'm just gonna preface that this tutorial is from someone who was not professionally trained and didn't have a lot of free time for art, so a lot of the tips I have is short cuts I use to get the best results quickly

If you genuinely want to get better at art then please look at references and practice that is always the best

However if you are like me and only really do art for fun but want to go faster then these are for you pfppt

Overall I'd say my style is influenced by speedpaints I would watch when I was younger, I like analyzing how people do things and what makes something look "good" to me

I always recommend watching them because they will often have techniques you've never seen before or do things a certain way that you can try out yourself

I consume good art, it feeds me

but seriously it can be super helpful when developing your own methodology, or just generally trying something new

Usually it starts with me pulling some references from artists I really admire and sort of sketching out how they do the things I like

For example 8um8le has like super good anatomy and poses so I focused on trying to replicate how they do that

venemous-qwille is super good at color and pulling focus so that's what I focused on in my study of them

In general I'd say my process is sketch -> silhouette -> color -> shading -> render

I really don't like doing lineart lol

I'd say for the sketch the most important part is using references and just kind of fudging it until it looks correct anatomically/physically

General rule of thumb is spend time on areas of interest, and keep non important areas light (like the stitching on his pants)

I don't do lineart because I think its unnecessary for most paintings I do

I naturally tend to put more time and focus on areas of interest (like hands and feet) and if you use a brush with opacity for the sketch, those areas are naturally going to be darker in the final sketch

Of course this is gonna be different for everyone but it's what works for me

Sometimes I do a really really sketchy layer underneath my sketch/lineart, just so I know where everything is going

Use thumbnails! They are great to help figure out the general layout of things and what pose I wanna do

Next is what I call the "silhouette" layer

This is super important for me cause it helps me refine the figure and make sure the pose/anatomy looks correct, also depending on what color I choose for the silhouette helps guide what colors I'm going to use on top

This piece is a good example of how it works. The silhouette shows me how the figure interacts with the background, how the pose looks and if its any good

The silhouette layer doesn't have to be super clean, as long as it follows the sketch decently well and shows where the figure is then its fine

I also sometimes make the silhouette layer multiple colors to help guide shading and vibe

Next is the coloring layer. I usually make this a clipping layer on top of the silhouette layer, or I change the silhouette layer to alpha lock, either way it saves me time on coloring everything in

Sometimes I am super rough with the coloring too, using like an airbrush or my fav watercolor brush just to generically block in color where I want it

Works out cause most objects have like a bounce light to them from surrounding objects, so this is sort of a cheat I use to get that effect without all the work lol

Also don't be afraid to have the lower silhouette layer shining through, having multiple colors sort of subtly shining through the piece helps lots

Next is the shading layer, this is usually another clipping layer, usually set to "multiply"

The colors I pick here is usually within this range, any color works, just depends on the piece and vibes.

Since this piece is set in a sunset forest I choose a more desaturated orange for the shading layer

I know there's a whole thing about multiply layer being a crutch (and it kind of it) but it is a useful tool when you just want some darker values across the piece but don't want to go through the process of color picking every single darker shade

Also in my opinion it looks better than picking a darker color and setting it to a lower opacity, idk I just think the color has more "depth"

Next is the hardest to explain, sort of the vibes layer

Usually its just a layer of more concentrated color on top of the normal color and I fudge with the settings and values until I get a result I like

Next is the longest step, is the "extra" or the render stage.

Usually I add a background before this step so that if I need to merge the figure better with the background I can

If I render with a white background but he's supposed to be in a dark forest, its going to mess with the lighting severely

Also this is when I add more "vibe" layers on top to get the figure to match the background better

Backgrounds in general I recommend checking out @/derekdomnicdsouza on instagram he's got lots of great tutorials for breaking down backgrounds simply

I'd say general rule for the rendering layer is to focus on the areas of interest and spend less time on areas you don't care about

I even blur stuff out on the edges I don't want people to see, partially to save time on fixing mistakes in areas I dont care about (oop), but mainly to help draw the eye to the areas I do want people to focus on

Theoretically parts of the background should like mesh with the characters, parrallel lines are a no no unless they are directing a viewer to look somewhere, things that are perpendicular help bring things together

tbh I'm still not the best at layout and probably need more practice, but overall this is what I like doing

Overall this is what my layer set up ends up being

Sort of a sandwich with the lineart/sketch as the "meat" lol

Color and basic shading below the sketch, clean-up and rendering on top

I like this method cause it's super flexible if I ever want to try something different or try to replicate someone's style

I can make each step less or more messy depending on the end result and can add a lineart layer if need be. Also if there's a part that is straight up not working or needs to be removed its super easy to do cause I can just paint over it on the "extras" layer, color picking from the surrounding area to get the same vibe

Generally rule of thumb for my style is: get the initial layout of colors, form and shading to look good, then the rendering should be smooth sailing

Really the best advice I can give to get better at art is to enjoy what you're doing and become very very obsessed with drawing a silly little guy

You'll eventually get very good at drawing them pfptpf

[deas-junk-bin]

Something interesting I've noticed.

All the characters in the Veilguard assume that Spite is a senselessly destructive problem gremlin, and that Lucanis is reining him in and preventing him from causing harm. Lucanis himself is very insistent that this is the case, and many fans are already accepting this idea as fact. But if you pay attention to Spite's behavior, the reverse is actually true!

Since Dragon Age's handling of mages, demons, and spirits has always invited players to use critical thinking and notice where the characters' cultural biases and prejudices don't line up with what's actually happening, I do think it's weird how few people are talking about this. I suppose it might be possible to miss, if you haven't seen the end of Lucanis' storyline yet and aren't paying close attention to Spite. But even before the scene where Spite's intentions are revealed, there are plenty of clues that he isn't as much of a danger as Lucanis fears.

Once you do reach that scene, it's pretty clearly revealed that Spite has been trying to keep Lucanis' self-destructive behavior in check all along. His efforts were dismissed as troublemaking by the team, but he's actually trying to look after Lucanis, in his weird demon-y way. However, even before his true goal is revealed, Spite's behavior is always consistent with that goal, not with the generic malevolence that Lucanis and some of the other companions ascribe to him. He typically isn't hostile towards anyone Lucanis isn't, with only one major exception. Spite is a bit more emotionally reactive and vindictive than Lucanis, for sure. Lucanis comparing him to a child throwing a tantrum certainly seems to ring true. But he doesn't do pointlessly evil things for no reason.

(That one exception was obviously unusual, too. That dude did something very blatantly rude, which provoked Spite. It was genuine douchebag behavior, and he had bad vibes and needed to get his ass kicked anyway. Spite's violent response was likely an overreaction, based on the information he had at the time, but he was still reacting to someone else's actions, not just randomly turning hostile.)

Of course, you could argue that Spite is acting out of self-interest, since everything that happens to Lucanis also happens to him. However, practically speaking, I don't think that matters very much. Their priorities align a lot, way more than Lucanis realizes they do. Lucanis and Spite share a common interest in survival, something Lucanis himself will point out shortly after you recruit him, and they grow to become a true team with shared goals by the end of their storyline. Under such circumstances, it seems a little pointless to try to distinguish whether Spite is being selfish or genuinely cares for Lucanis. Both amount to the same thing in the end.

In all three previous Dragon Age games, we hear Thedosians assume demons always want indiscriminate violence and can't be reasoned with or appeased, and in all three previous Dragon Age games, we repeatedly see this assumption proven wrong. It's at best a flawed guideline based on edge cases, or at worst, a hateful stereotype. Lucanis claims Spite can't be negotiated with, that "talk doesn't work on Spite" because of his fundamental nature. But by the end of the storyline, talking to Spite and reaching a verbal agreement is actually the only thing that successfully resolves Lucanis' conflict with him!

I don't think it's a stretch to suggest that Lucanis is simply wrong about how demons work. He's ashamed, scared, and traumatized by his experience in the Ossuary, which makes him prone to to intrusive ruminations about potential worst-case scenarios. And since he's not a mage, he is, through no fault of his own, practically guaranteed to be ignorant on this topic. Even many mages don't understand demons very well. It takes a specialist in spirit magic to explain certain things, as we saw in Inquisition with Cole and Solas. Lucanis is perfectly poised to have basically zero factual information about demons, but a ton of cultural and personal reasons to vilify his new possessed self. Considering this context, it really seems odd that fans are interpreting Lucanis' statements about Spite as unbiased narrative fact.

Then again, this is the same fandom where a lot of people apparently still think Fenris' mansion formerly belonged to Danarius. Fenris mistakenly thought it did in Act I, but he later explicitly corrects his mistake aloud! (As Fenris explains, Danarius was only staying there as a guest. The house actually belonged to a merchant who was an acquaintance of his.) So maybe I'm just overly optimistic about how much detail is going to stick for people. These games have a lot going on in them, after all, so I guess it's inevitable for people to miss some things.