#and then everyone just has to witness that

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

I actually think Jason Todd would be terrible when it comes to reacting to embarrassing situations. Like in the way that he leans too far into it while trying to make the moment not embarrassing for you

Accidently knocked over your drink at the coffee shop? Well, he ripped the top off his drink and poured it right next to yours on the ground. (He didn't even think about the mess it would make, he just did it and met your gaze with complete seriousness while you openly stared at him. Yes, he helped clean it up after, I swear)

Tripped in a room in front of witnesses? He's sprinting over to your side from the opposite end of the room and throwing himself to the floor dramatically. (He's checking if you're okay as soon as he hits the ground)

Accidently waved to someone you don't know? He's gaslighting them into believing you all went to school together. (You walked away from the situation with a new group chat and plans to meet up next Thursday)

He simply has never had a normal interaction in his life and is committed to the bit (no matter how weird that bit seems to be to everyone else)

[pomegranatesarchive]

hand of gold — cs55

pairing: carlos sainz x wolff!reader

summary: nobody knew you and carlos sainz jr were dating, much less getting married. now everyone’s buzzing at the prospect of getting to witness the biggest (and most expensive) wedding in formula one history.

authors note: this was requested by an anon MONTHS ago and i am so sorry this took me so long, AND im so sorry because the request has for some reason disappeared from my inbox, i hope this makes it to you anon!

instagram • ynwolff • dec 23 • monaco ⚑

liked by lewishamiliton, kimi.antonelli and 718,025 others!

ynwolff: happy holidays from the wolff family 🐺🎅

view comments below!

username1: you never let me forget how rich you are

username2: how does it feel to live the life

username3: are toto and susie looking for a 3rd

➥ ynwolff: it’s christmas…have some decorum.

➥ username3: i didn’t think you would see that…i apologize.

➥ username3: but…are they?

username4: i would kill my entire family to experience a wolff family christmas

username5: i can’t believe she’s still soft launching, you can trust us girl

➥ username6: it’s been THREE whole years…we will never see this man’s full face

➥ username7: i bet he’s ugly.

➥ username8: hes either 1. hideous to look at 2. not rich 3. a driver, or 4. a controversial man

➥ username9: what if it’s lewis?

➥ username10: do you see an ounce of melanin on that man’s skin?

➥ username11: this whole thread is why we will never know who she’s dating 😒

kimi.antonelli: thank you for the new kart 💙 i love it!

➥ ynwolff: only the best for a mercedes driver <3

➥ georgerussell63: i don’t recall getting a new anything for these last 2 years? 🤨

➥ ynwolff: remember that you are a grown man with a grown man paycheck!

instagram • pomegranatesgossip • unknown ⚑

liked by 72,626 users!

pomegranategossip: #neverforgiveneverforget the day this picture came out and everyone thought carlos was for sure going to mercedes! just for him to go WILLIAMS, will forever reminisce on what we could’ve had

view comments below!

username12: they knew what they were doing..and they were so evil for it

➥ username13: will forever wonder what they were talking about

➥ username14: and why on earth was old papa sainz there?

username15: i have a theory..but im scared people will think im schizophrenic

➥ username16: as a diagnosed schizophrenic, let’s indulge into this theory together

➥ username15: i’m convinced carlos is dating toto’s daughter

➥ username16: oh baby….

➥ username15: NO IM NOT CRAZY

username17: nightmare blunt rotation

instagram • carlossain55 • jan 13 • joali being ⚑

liked by susie_wolff, ynwolff, and 628,926 others!

carlossainz55: big things coming soon

view comments below!

username18: i’m cumming soon 😩

➥ username19: ON A POST WHERE HES SHOWING OFF HIS GF???

username20: another one that won’t man up and hard launch 😒

➥ username21: what a coincidence that both yn and carlos have been soft launching for the same amount of time 😭

➥ username22: now that you mention it..

➥ username23: huh

username24: why is susie wolff in the likes?

➥ username25: the TWO wolffs are in the likes

➥ username26: yn has been in the likes since forever, susie on the other hand��

username27: i’m look at the hand in the second picture, and as much as i hate to ask, is that a engagement ring?

➥ username28: please please PLEASE DONT START

➥ username29: i can’t handle that right now

➥ username30: climate change, the cheetos in office, the worlds falling apart, and CARLOS IS ENGAGED TO SOMEONE WHOS NOT ME??? I WILL KILL MYSELF

➥ username31: this was truly the last thing i needed this year

➥ username32: if carlos got a engaged, why would he be wearing an engagement ring? isnt it normal the woman?

➥ username33: unless carlos was proposed TO

username34: please don’t do this to me carlos

twitter

instagram • ynwolff • jan 15

liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton, and 619,026 others!

yourusername: fixed on your hand of gold

view comments below!

username35: we really went from 0 to 100 real quick 😨

username36: im frozen. you just altered the timeline

username37: THE TWITTER CRAZIES WERE RIGHT?

➥ username38: more importantly THE SCHIZOPHRENIC GIRL WAS RIGHT?

susie_wolff: tell him to watch his hands

➥ carlossainz55: yes ma’am i will watch my hands forever and always

➥ lando: kiss ass 🤣

➥ carlossainz55: you wish you could kiss my ass

➥ ynwolff: oh 😆

➥ carlossainz55: i didn’t mean it baby, i only want you to kiss my ass

➥ susie_woff: …

➥ username39: i like this new change

username40: i actually cannot handle this news right now

username41: THATS WHY PAPA SAINZ AND BABY SAINZ WERE TALKING TOO SUSIE AND TOTO

username42: i can just imagine carlos asking toto permission to propose to yn 😭

username43: wait so who proposed to who?

➥username44: i can’t imagine yn wolff getting on her knees for any man

➥ username45: it wouldn’t make sense for carlos to have a an engagement ring unless yn proposed to him

➥ username46: keep in mind, yn has an engagement ring too

➥ username47: maybe rich people do stuff differently

susie_wolff: i would like to make it clear that my daughter did not get on her knees for any man. she was proposed too, and THEN did she get an engagement ring for her soon to be husband —toto wolff

➥ username48: toto said put some respect on his daughters name

➥ username49: this makes me feel much better

➥ username50: this wedding better be HUGE

➥ username51: if i can’t have a big wedding, then i least i can live through someone who will

carlossainz55: i love you 💙

➥ alex_albon: simp

➥ username51: so did everyone in the paddock know about this relationship?

➥ lando: yes

➥ username52: just dig the knife deeper

➥ username53: i didn’t even feel this level of betrayal when my boyfriend cheated on me

twitter

instagram • carlossain55 • feb 14 • monaco ⚑

liked by ynwolff, charles_leclerc, and 916,016 others!

carlossainz55: wolff-sainz wedding, september ‘25

view comments below!

username54: so what i’m understanding is that your taking the wolff last name 🤨

username55: holy shit look at those flowers

username56: ON HIS BIRTH MONTH EVERYONE!

username57: my expectations for men just went way up

username58: im assuming it'll be a very flower themed wedding??

lando: so according to my invitation, i shouldn't bring fireworks? will you be providing them or was it a typo?

➥ carlossainz55: this will be a firework free wedding lando.

➥ lando: WHAT

➥ charles_leclerc: NO FIREWORKS?

➥ maxverstappen1: well i already bought the fireworks so

➥ carlossainz55: do not set off fireworks at my wedding max.

➥ maxverstappen1: what the fuck am i going to do with all these fireworks

username60: im so excited for OUR wedding

username61: the bride right in the middle as she deserves

username62: the way yn has posted these exact photos on her story before..

➥ username63: private but never secret

➥ username64: i still can't believe they got away with this for THREE years

ynwolff: so ready for you to take my last name

➥ carlossainz55: so ready for you to take MY last name

➥ susie_wolff: technically you're taking my last name—toto wolff

➥ username65: you two should fight to the death, and whoever wins takes the others name

instagram • pomegranatesgossip • unknown ⚑

liked by ynwolff and 92,193 others!

pomegranatesgossip: two snippets of carlos talking about the wedding in a recent interview:

"I think the thing that bothers me the most is when people say 'is yn a bride...what do they call it? bride...zila?' I do not understand what is wrong with a woman wanting everything to be perfect on her big day. I don't think people understand how stressful it is to plan a wedding. It seems like all we do is plan, plan, plan. And I do love it because I want the day to be perfect for her, but if I'm not racing, I'm planning the wedding. So I understand why some women, especially when they don't have their fiancé to help them, can get a bit....angsty."

"When we had that talk about our future, one thing my YN made very clear was that she wanted a huge wedding. She wanted different dresses, different cakes, different venues, everything. So, I think it was our fourth date when I started taking note of everything she liked—I actually still have the list—so when we did plan the wedding, it would be easier, you know? what flowers she loved versus which ones she just liked. It did make it easier. Instead of going crazy over two good choices, we can easily pick one."

view comments below!

username66: oh my gosh he's so in love???

username67: that was supposed to be my man

username68: i am begging you guys to go see the actual video because the heart eyes he gets when talking about yn is so 🥰

ynwolff: i knew there was no way he just memorized my top 50 favorite flowers... 🤨

➥ carlossainz55: i’m sorry baby i have bad memory

➥ username69: THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MY MAN

username70: his yn everyone

username71: HE KNEW HE WAS GOING TO MARRY HER BY THE FOURTH DATE! THE FOURTH

instagram • carlossainzwolff55 • sep 1

liked by ynwolffsainz, alex_albon, and 1,726,917 others!

carlossainzwolff55: Mrs. Yn Wolff-Sainz 🫀

view comments below!

username72: i just woke up wtf happened

username73: oh so by september you meant the FIRST of the month

username74: THAT DRESS

danielricciardo: beautiful wedding, beautiful bride 🍾

➥ carlossainzwolff55: 🤨

➥ lando: you don’t have to be so jealous anymore, you’re married now!

➥ carlossainzwolff55: 🤨

username75: he wasted NO TIME changing that username 😭

username76: for those who are in a different time zone and missed the insta story’s, here’s a summary: yn had 3 different dresses, they had 4 different venues? (what it looked liked) and a shit load of flowers, ALSO toto cried

➥ susie_wolff: is it so shocking that i cried at my beautiful daughters first wedding? — toto wolf

➥ username76: you need to get an instagram account old man

➥ carlosainzwolff55: first and ONLY wedding ** 🙂

username77: they took each others last name 🥹

username78: its so scute how he’s the one that’s always the first to post

lando: would’ve been better with fireworks

➥ charles_leclerc: agreed

➥ maxverstappen1: totes

➥ carlossainzwolff55: god forbid i don’t want tacky fireworks at my wedding

➥ maxverstappen1: TACKY??? I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW MY FIREWORK GUY ONLY GETS ME TOP OF THE LINE EXPLOSIVES

➥ username79: top of the line and fireworks should not be associated

username80: we’ve come so far in such little time

username81: it’s carlos’s birthday…

➥ username82: OH MY GOD THEY GOT MARRIED ON HIS BIRTHDAY

ynwolffsainz: i love you 🫀

➥ carlossainzwolff: i love you MORE 🥰

➥ alex_albon: sick to my stomach (beautiful wedding btw!)

username83: the picture in the middle?? jaw dropped.

➥ username84: it’s my new wallpaper 😭

username85: i see my future and its bright

username86: thank you for all the wedding inspo!

username87: so can we refer to toto as old man wolff now? because it’ll get real confusing real quick if we don’t change something

[ventique18]

Dragon Malleus headcanons

You're used to how he looks in his two-legged fae form. Everyone is, honestly. But the thing is, that's not really how he truly, originally looks like. And though he knows his form of flesh is just as much of who he is as his origin, there are times when he undergoes some sort of withdrawal; a primal need to be back in the skin he was molded in. So he would occasionally spend a few days living his life as a gigantic dragon.

He doesn't particularly like being in his dragon form. He knows he's glorious and takes pride in that, of course, but it's just that it's so inconvenient. He can't fit in places. He can't grab things. He can't make gargoyles. He has to eat an entire town's worth of food just to not be hungry. But most of all, he can't really feel.

He's extremely durable. He's already impervious to damage in his humanoid form, but even more so as a dragon with walls and walls of the hardest material on Twisted Wonderland permanently attached to his body. Which is great, of course-- it's essential to his survival, but it comes with the caveat that no matter how much you touch him, no matter how much you try to show physical affection towards him, he simply cannot feel.

But there is one part of him that's soft. Something that isn't covered inch to inch in scales. His tongue.

So what best to take advantage of this little weakness than to cover you head to toe in slobber, of course?

Take note that him doing so doesn't imply anything malicious (unless you want to, of course). It's just that it's so easy to feel your presence by licking you. He can touch you without accidentally hurting you. And, as much as he refuses to admit it to avoid sounding like a pervert, being able to smell your familiar scent gives him a tender comfort. A sense of welcoming even in this world that refuses to welcome him in his rawest form.

But being covered in slobber isn't exactly the best feeling in the world. When you tell him that, the... fins on his jaw draw back, and he plants himself on the ground; snout partially buried behind his curled claws. Dragons aren't particularly expressive, but you can safely guess that he's feeling guilty of bothering you.

So you offer to help him find somewhere else to touch. He's a bit hesitant-- it seems dragons don't like the idea of exploring their weaknesses, but he agrees because it's you.

And would you look at that. He can feel you when you vigorously rub his belly. The feeling isn't really as detailed as his tongue's, but he can feel something. And it feels rather... Rather... Relaxing. He's huge though, so from your perspective it's like washing a car, but with exaggerated movements as a stroke from your height's head to toe is like scratching a spot for him.

It's tiring, but you persist with the power of love.

So this becomes a habit for you. When he transforms into a dragon, he would ask you to rub his belly, or ask for your permission to be licked if you don't look like you're in a bad mood that day. All of this is done somewhere private, of course.

So when someone would walk in by accident... And witness their prince rolled over like a dog, getting petted on his tummy... It goes to say that the dragon would be gone in a flash; replaced by a very angry, very threatening unit of a man very politely asking the intruder if he saw something. Of course the answer is always "not a single thing, sir!".

You laugh, and ask if he wants to continue with what you were doing. He sighs, refuses, and says he's not in the mood for childish amusement anymore.

"But... I can think of other, more enjoyable things we can do together."

And so the dragon, now in his villainous, irresistibly devilish form, whisks his prisoner away to a place no one knows.

[solarbiomechanist]

it ain't their fault they've been fucking lied from cradle to grave. Education, news, entertainment, all pointing them towards "these are the guys who make my life better and these are the guys that hate me and don't want me to be able to afford to fix my truck and will give my job to someone else who will do it worse because they don't know that Bob always tries to fix his own roof first before he calls somebody so they gotta work around that..."

Point is, everyone has reasons why they believe what they do, and a lot of them are good, honest people who care about their neighbors and the world around them but have been LIED TO about what would be best for them and their neighbors and the world because where the hell are they gonna learn that when their trusted elected officials said "I think it's time we take America back and focus on what truly matters" they meant "I'm going to kick out the nice old lady Maria and her hard-working sons José and Roberto who live next door, not just the fictional people I've told you to fear"

Who would tell them straight? The fear-mongering news? The sunny depictions of a post-election world they get from Facebook? The opposition, whose descriptions of the playbook, while entire, must seem so outlandish in their cruelty as to be *surely* hyperbolic from the perspective of someone who expects the government to act sane?

I plead to you, reader. for a better world, do not punish what you want to see. If you see someone doubting, encourage it, do not disparage them. Help them lean into that confusion, that dissonance. Give them the gentlest examples you can think of where things clearly won't match up and let them uncover deeper ones. It HURTS, like nothing fucking else, for your reality to crumble around you. I understand not having space to bear witness to it, give yourself grace, but please don't bite them before you go. Just go, and breathe.

This is less coherent than I would like, but thank you, dear reader.

ok so these new tariffs are likely going to be primarily affecting red states. i want y’all to ignore the urge to respond by saying the people in those red states deserve it because of the political representation we have. not because some of us are progressives but because this is an opportunity. if conservatives from these states start complaining about higher prices and financial strain, do not respond with “well you voted for this!” this is your opportunity to pull them to the center. say “wow that is really awful. i’m sure this isn’t what you wanted when you voted last year. you deserve representatives that will have your best interests at heart, you should let them know how upset you are! you deserve to be heard!”

because listen to me. republican politicians don’t give a shit about what progressives in red states have to say. they aren’t gonna change their voting trends for us. but if a bunch of small town conservatives start to get restless and angry with their politicians, if they lose support from their most important demographics, that has a shot at changing things. so swallow your pride and disgust and have a conversation with that republican truck driver instead of taking the pot shot that’ll get you 10 minutes of dopamine. do the hard work.

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Anger - A Joel Miller Drabble

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader Rating: E (is there anything else with him?????) Truly this is the least crazy thing I've written in days. Unprotected p in v. Word Count: 1155 a/n: Sometimes I spend all afternoon trying to write Joel and get nothing and other times I write 1000 words in less than 30 minutes. There is no in-between. Written for TLOU Sundays!

"You've really gotta do something about him," Ellie tells you from where she's sitting at the kitchen table.

You're barely through the door, coat still covered in a layer of snow from outside. "Well hello to you, too, Ellie," you respond, pulling off your boots before you track any more water into the house. It's strange, how something like keeping the floors dry didn't matter for twenty years and now suddenly again it does. "You're the fourth person to say that to me today though, so I assume you also are talking about Joel?"

She's flipping through the pages of a comic, barely paying you any attention. "Yes, Joel," she emphasizes, not that you need any further confirmation. Maria had cornered you at the saloon, the other half of your patrol had been on your case, and you had a run-in with Jackson's resident grandma first thing in the morning, who gave you an earful about how you needed to learn how to satisfy your man so he would stop torturing the entire town with his bad mood.

You sigh, shucking your coat and flexing your toes in your thick socks as you make your way into the kitchen. "Any idea what's wrong with him? He seemed fine this morning."

Ellie shrugs, still engrossed in the pages in front of her. "I don't know, Dina just told me he was being a real fucking asshole. You know how he gets."

That you do. You're well aware of the way Joel Miller can make or break an entire day based on his mood, especially since you've been at his side to witness it longer than anyone else.

Before you can contemplate further, the man in question storms through the door, a grumble on his lips before it's even closed behind him. Ellie meets your gaze, glancing over at him before turning back to you and then quickly rising. "I've gotta get going," she says quickly, sneaking past Joel to grab her jacket.

She's out the door before he can even say a word.

"Where the fuck is she going?" he questions, ignoring the way his boots squeak on the floorboards as he makes his way to the couch, collapsing into it. A part of you wants to scold him for the wet spots now littered all over the floor, but based on the furrow in his brow, there's no use, and you simply follow him instead, swinging a leg over his thigh to climb into his lap and settle there.

Only he has the audacity to grumble. Again.

"Joel," you say sternly, "don't do that."

"Don't do what?" he fires back, and now you know exactly what everyone had been warning you about. "I didn't do anything."

"What's up with you today?" It's a simple question, an inquiry that he should have no problem answering, but he doesn't, so you continue with a follow-up request, "Just tell me why I had four separate people tell me that I needed to figure out who you're so angry today."

"I'm not angry."

You frown. "Bullshit, Miller. Tell me what the fuck is wrong."

His answer is to seal his lips to yours, his rough grip dragging your hips against his so you can feel the hard press of him between your thighs. This felt familiar, especially since he'd been in an equally shit mood the day you first met, something you'd promptly fucked out of him later that night. And usually, that did the trick, but there was always something else lingering beneath the surface.

Not that you have time to contemplate what it might be because he pushes any thought of his mental well-being from your head when he rips your shirt from your body and latches onto one of your breasts. Likewise, any train of thought is gone just as quickly as the remainder of your clothing.

It's a good thing Ellie left quickly, because within minutes he has you spread out on the couch beneath him, one of your legs hitched around his hip as he pounds into you. There's little space left between you, the moment feeling intimate even with the intensity of the way he's pressing you down, grunting with each thrust until he has you clenching around him.

His fingers are on your clit before you come down from your climax, already drawing you higher a second time. "Joel, fuck, I can't," you whine, gripping at his hand.

"You can," he emphasizes, "you're gonna take every fucking inch of me."

And then you can see it. The rage behind his gaze, the emotion that has his eyes glassed over. The anger he has to unleash somehow. It scared you when you first met him, the first time he had you like this back in Boston, pressed up against the door, the first time you watched his fist collide with a FEDRA officer who tried to touch you, and the first time you saw him have to kill someone who definitely wasn't infected.

But now, you know better. You know that he won't hurt you, but he still needs a way to release the pent-up emotion that boils beneath the surface. You don't know what happened to get him here today, but you do know how to fix it.

Joel groans when you shift to wrap your legs fully around his waist, pulling him down so the soft expanse of his stomach presses against your own, increasing the pressure of your walls wrapped around him. It's all he can do to rut into you, your back slowly snaking up the arm of the couch as he fucks you. The angle changes the higher you move, guiding his lips to yours so he can catch the scream that rips from your throat when you clench around him a second time.

He follows you into the abyss, pulling out seconds before he spills against your center, jerking himself off until the last drops drip down onto the fabric.

When he regains his breath he stands, cock softening as he moves to grab a cloth to wipe his spend from your core. And then he's pressing you into the couch again, settled in the safety of your thighs as his head rests on your chest.

"Do you wanna know what Mrs. Davis told me today?" you ask softly, fingers curling through his hair.

Joel rests his chin on your breast as he looks at you, eyes softer now, more playful. "Fuck, what did she say?"

You smile. "She saw me at the store and pulled me into the corner to tell me that I needed to get you home and ride your cock because she was sick of your shit."

His laugh is rough, but he says nothing else as he settles back against you.

"Was she right?" you ask, your own laughter threatening to bubble up.

He doesn't answer, but he doesn't deny it either.

[mochacoda]

[teaser] night d(r)ive | yjh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Jeonghan is the kind of guy who would drive 40 minutes out of his way just to pick you up, but also wouldn’t yield the last ramen at the local convenience store to you. He’s also the kind of guy people are quick to fall for, only to get crushed by his indifference for dating. As a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think that you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen. (Spoiler: You don't.)

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Friends to Lovers | College AU

Tags: short hair jeonghan, extreme pining, liking ramen as a plot device, crying, being losers for each other, insecure reader, lots of konglish w/ translations, overly indulgent kissing, no "y/n,” this is for everyone who voted jeonghan in the poll <3

Word Count: 5K (full)

Release Date: February 9

Masterlist

You‘d like to think that you know Yoon Jeonghan well. Surely, you do! Over the years, you‘ve come across—and committed to memory—dozens, if not hundreds, of his little oddities. You’ve witnessed his personality change with the length of his hair, and learned the hard way that cheating at card games is like second nature to him. At this point, you can recite more information about his pet rock than ramen, which is somewhat terrifying if you dwell on it for too long, considering that ramen is your favorite food. 

But despite his chaotic personality, you also know that he’s incredibly smart, having sat next to him in countless college lectures and trivia events. 

Honestly, it can’t possibly be a stretch to say that you know the man too well, can't it? And at times, it feels a bit unfair that you can only reply, “oh, I know him,” when people fleetingly mention him in conversation. It hurts that you can’t clarify that you know him—that you can’t ramble on about how he made the stupidest joke to make you laugh when you were upset about your most recent midterm, or handmade you the sweetest present for your birthday, or let you choose your favorite film for movie night for the third time in a row—because no one wants to nor needs to hear about it.

But, unfortunately, that’s all you can think about these days. 

Because, unfortunately, Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, and most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. 

Yoon Jeonghan is the kind of guy who would drive 40 minutes out of his way just to pick you up, but also wouldn’t yield the last ramen at the local convenience store to you. Though he gives into his internal demands for petty possessiveness quite often, he cares deeply for his friends. 

He’s also the kind of guy people are quick to fall for, only to get crushed by his nonchalant but somewhat firm indifference for dating. You’ve witnessed him casually turn down far too many objectively gorgeous and incredibly intelligent people, which has convinced you that his standards are impossibly high. And if you were honest with yourself, based on the people he’d already rejected, it would be laughable for you to even think about confessing to him.

And so, as a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen.

In fact, you’re sure about the ramen issue, because you’re witnessing it happen right now.

You’re staring at his smirking face in the instant food aisle of the convenience store, both of you gripping the last Neoguri cup like it’s a trophy.

“You gotta learn patience,” Jeonghan tuts, his lips upturned infuriatingly at one corner. 

“No, you should learn patience. 손 빼, [Take your hand off,]” you demand, grasping the cup tighter.

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says in a sing-song voice, raising his chin in defiance.

The ramen cup creaks slightly under the pressure of your combined grip, and a terrible thought forms in your head. Your hand is sandwiched between his hand and the cup, making you feel the heat radiating from his body. It’s something you’re afraid you could get used to. 

You narrow your eyes, targeting his ridiculous, perfect lazy smile. “Take it off while I’m being nice.”

“Nah,” he replies immediately, smiling wider, his tongue sliding to the right. 

Your heart lurches at the sight. 

“치사하게 진짜 이럴 거야? [You’re so petty, are you really going to be like this?]” You chew on your bottom lip, eyes flitting between his face and his hand. 

Jeonghan tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes sharp and steady on yours. He’s not really looking at the ramen anymore, and the intensity of his gaze makes your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

“내가 여기서 이 옷을 입고 있는데, [I’m wearing these clothes here,]” he says, using his free hand to pinch the fabric of the expensive suit he always wears at his internship. “굳이 라면 하나 때문에 나랑 싸운다고? 그냥 빨리 가자, 음? [You’re really gonna fight with me over just one ramen cup? Let’s just go now, hmm?]”

You press your lips together and jut your chin in defiance. 

He sighs dramatically, shaking his head. His shaggy, dark hair flows with it, and you can’t help but think that he looks princely like this, standing in the middle of this convenience store with his stupidly gorgeous face, and that dumb suit and tie. 

“양보해. [Give it up.] I’ll give you whatever you want,” he says, his voice dipping lower. It feels less like an offer and more like a taunt, a challenge. His tone sends a small shiver through you, and for a second, you’re not sure if he’s teasing or serious.

You have to take a slow, deep breath to calm yourself down before even considering what to say next. You’re grateful for the ride (and his company), of course, but that doesn’t mean he can steal your rightful claim under your nose, in the same casual manner he has when letting one of his fans down. 

You’ve always given into him. Because he means everything to you, of course. 

But you’ve had enough of letting him have his way so easily, not with your precious ramen at risk.

You boldly step closer to him, cutting the distance between the two of you in half. You’re close enough to see your reflection in his eyes, now. 

“I’m not letting go.” You firmly shake your head. You wouldn’t let him win this time. “I don’t want anything but this,” you add, stubbornly.

Tugging hard, you try to pull the cup toward you, but it frustratingly remains stuck on the shelf between the two of you. Looking back up, you see that he isn’t even straining to keep the ramen in place! You frown, wondering when your best friend got so strong.

He leans in just a fraction closer. “Keep trying,” he murmurs, and he’s so close that you can feel his warm breath tickling your face. 

The world narrows to Jeonghan, and the faint scent of the cologne he only wears on weekends. It’s dizzying.

“야아아! [Hey!] I was here first!” you weakly defend, voice embarrassingly squeaky.

And then Jeonghan does something that completely short-circuits your brain.

His free hand lifts and brushes your hair away to your back, before resting on the divot between your neck and collarbone, where his thumb caresses the side of your neck. Feather-light, his touch is gentle, and his fingers are impossibly warm, a stark contrast to this slightly chilly convenience store. You just about choke on your surprise, your heart kicking into overdrive at the sheer intimacy of the gesture. 

God, how is it that you never get a rest day with Jeonghan? How is it that he’s always flirting, always disregarding the boundaries of platonic and romantic love, always making you confused? And how is it that you just let it happen, that you just take whatever affection he gives you? How is it that you’re drawn into his dangerous touch, like a moth to a flame? Except that analogy doesn’t really work, because at least moths don’t know that they’re in danger when they reach fire—you know what you’re getting into, and you know all too well that Jeonghan will never be yours. 

“Please?” he whispers.

Your breath hitches, suddenly aware that even for your overly-touchy friend, this level of skinship is extreme. 

Does he know? Has he found out that you’re in love with him, that you’ve been keeping this ungodly secret from him for far too long? Does he know that every time he lets someone down, that every time he complains to you about people confessing and crying over him, you give him superficial laughs as you swallow your own feelings? 

Does he know that you feel like sinking into the ground every time he entertains a random girl flirting with him, and that every time he crosses boundaries with you, it hammers in the fact that he thinks you’re a joke? 

Does he know that you’ve spent over a year trying to convince yourself that you don’t have feelings for him, only to fail miserably, because there is no such thing as cutting Yoon Jeonghan out of your life, because he makes you feel so, so alive? 

He must know. He must be making fun of you, now.

Your eyes widen, frantically searching his face for an ounce of malice. And you expect to see the look he always has when shredding the hearts of the brave people who confess to him, the face he makes when he casually tells someone that he doesn’t feel the same way. You expect to see an almost-cruel, blank stare paired with apologetic lips pressed together. 

You expect him to crush your heart. 

But instead, he’s staring at you with a gaze so, so, very soft, you wonder if you’ve hallucinated it. Shining eyes, raised eyebrows, mouth parted—he looks devastatingly beautiful.

Masterlist

Author's Note: coming soon for all the singles who need a big literary hug this valentines week

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone

[pinkyqily]

IT'S OKAY, WE'RE OKAY, WE ARE DEFINITELY NOT OKAY JUJU WATKINS x READER

Summary: After the losing game against Iowa, you and juju get into a nasty argument that leads to your teammates separating the both of you.

Warning: Angst Angst Angst, swearing, throwing shit around, bad juju and reader

Authors note: The match was something, so that is why we get angst for times like this, anyways happy reading feedback and requests are always appreciated 💕.

Tension within the team was high no one said a word as everyone entered inside the bus. All you wanted to do was sit down next to your girl and comfort each other, but that was a no brainer as she passed by and ignored you.

Her ignoring you kinda hurt but you weren't gonna push past it. You tried sending her texts only for her to swipe them each time, you saw her groan turning off her phone.

A pit was forming down your stomach but you ignored the feeling like a fool.

You knew the type of player juju was when things don't go the way they were supposed to. Right now with the loss she was definitely beating herself up over it. no one likes to lose, especially to a team that wears the ugliest shade of yellow.

Arriving at the hotel felt like you were about to step into a battle zone. Once again you tried getting juju's attention by grabbing her hands, but all she did was yank her hands away from yours like you were some insects coming to disturb her.

You tried one last time by tapping her shoulder until she finally snapped at you, raising her voice, something that she's never does always trying her best to be calm with you.

"Bro what the fuck do you want can you not get the hint that maybe I do not want to deal with your shit tonight". You heard her say which was shocking. Because she never had an outburst likes this not even infront of your teammates or others, so her doing this just made you feel like an attention seeker which made you embarrassed.

"First off, watch how you're talking to me because I do not curse at you whatsoever and all I was trying to do was comfort my teammate who thinks the whole world is on her shoulders when the team has a few bad games but it fuck me right?." You said to her.

a few of your teammates who hadn't head upstairs came to where you and juju trying to calm things down, but that only made things escalate.

"Wow this coming from the player that left the 3 pointer line all wide fucking open and probably cost us the game". The moments those words came out of juju mouth she insanely regretted them but it was to late because you already heard them.

"I'm so sorry that not everyone can be there own fucking Judea watkins that's oh so prefect". You threw back at her tears clearly streaming down your face

It was too late for juju to say anything as kiki and Ray came separating the both of you.

The looks from your coaches were equally heartbreaking because no one wants to witness their best players tearing each other to threads.

A wave of guilt filled juju as everything she said to you hit her like a brick stone she was obviously in her head and wasn't thinking at all but the damage was already done. She made you cry and hurt you're feelings what type of girlfriend and teammate was she?. Was all she wondered now.

You we're already walking off with kiki.

She tried saying something but was cut off by one of the coaches who told her not to.

"It not worth it juju just head back upstairs, we'll be having a serious talking about both of your behaviors ray please help juju up to her room". she heard coach say, heading back the other way with ray, head facing down has she pulled her hoodie strings ashamed of how she acted.

What she didn't see was the way you turned around, hoping for her to say something at all it could've been anything but she didn't.

Only leaving both of you to sleep with heavy hearts having a thin wall separating you once more, you guys were definitely not okay and no one was okay.

[eilishavocados]

Billie people, concert and music people if ya got a minute, please read!🫶

This is a one off message on this blog as a anon Billie Stan

❤️💛 🖤🩶 💛🤍 💙💙

I know. Me too. I’m upset at the Grammys with HMHAS. The Billie fandom right now is heartbroken. To me, it feels like the safety blanket we have with her has been ripped from us by the industry and it hurts. We love her, we’d do anything for her, she’s impacted our lives in ways we can’t even put into words. I know. I know. I’m so glad she became Number 1 in the world on Spotify. I’m so glad we’re seeing her get bigger and better every year. She deserves it. Yet, you can’t have all of that without its downsides.

I first entered the Billie fandom halfway in 2019 and WWAFAWDWG. She had her green roots at the time lol, and HTE was yet to be seen (my fav). HTE also deserved way more than what was witnessed at the time. HMHAS is a new level of Billie that is so unique at the age she is. HMHAS came at the perfect time for me (like so many), who needed to hear our voices be projected through her. I can never thank her enough for the difficult periods she has always helped me through.

I am really worried about our girl right now. So please please remember to not blur the Billie fandom into other ones. We all could probably name another artist we see with mistreated acknowledgment and missed titles to their name, Billie isn’t the first and won’t be the last. She still remains EXTREMELY SUCCESSFUL. This gorgeous fandom brings more love than any Grammy will ever justify.

I know we love to gatekeep, or stay in a time where life was better, but these beloved people are growing in front of us just as much as we are, how cool is that. Music is here to help us, not break us apart.

I know it was different before, but her world has grown x10, the demand and boundaries are different now. I know this hurts for some, it hurts me too.

Yet, let this be a reminder for music and concert culture in general, that everyone is there to have a good time, and a safe time. Let’s include the artists with that mentality as well. Let’s give Billie the strength she needs to continue to be the best person we could ever love. I adore you all. I love you Billie. Here’s a toast to you and your beautiful soul 🥂. AOTY in my heart, always 💙.

I promise it will be okay. It’s Billie fkn Eilish.

“No one is gonna forget the name Billie”

❤️💛 🖤🩶 💛🤍 💙💙

Edit: here are some (there’s so many more) of my favourite Billie involved blogs to help cheer you all up. @xoluvx @xoxxbilliexoxx @chrissv4mp @bilswildflower @rottenavocados @luvzshy @imhappierthanever @gracie-eilish @drunkinyourbenz @pinkslipxox @moralesluvr @astrcmoni @trulyy-yourzz @dollarbils @heavensoutofsight @fictionalwh0ree @naturesapphic

[didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback]

el caso rubiales: headlines from day 3, in which we heard from misa, jenni's brother, and jenni's friend about rfef pressure and vilda's threats to ruin jenni's career (and the judge continued to call out everyone on their bs!)

today we heard testimony from the following:

chema timón, ex chief of staff for luis rubiales

rafa del amo, president of the national committee for women's football

rafa hermoso, jenni hermoso's brother

vitoriano martín, jenni hermoso's friendm

misa rodríguez

also note rubiales' attorney announced that his daughters will NOT testify. they were originally scheduled to speak on 10 february. and this is further proof of my point that just because witnesses are listed in a trial doesn't mean that they will be called and a lot has to do with the discretion of the attorneys!

so back to the trial. timón spoke first and denied being present at the time of the alleged coercions during the return flight of the national team. he was not aware that jenni was told that it would be "convenient" for her to appear in the video and he said that the content and script of the video was made by rubiales. but he suggested that rubiales should do it.

he also contradicted a statement made by jenni when she testified she was taken aside in sydney by rfef officials to talk about the kiss. timón said they asked jenni about ibiza and artists to perform at the celebration in madrid and not about the kiss.

timón said that he refused to participate in the "integrity" meeting that was discussed by the other witnesses and confirmed that luis de la fuente was present at rfef headquarters on 23 august but he stopped by to say hello.

rafa del amo went next and spoke of his conversations with rubiales in the aftermath of the kiss. he told rubiales that it "could be fixed if he apologised." rubiales refused and said that the kiss had been by mutual agreement. he confirmed he saw the initial statement by rfef on the incident and "didn't like it."

rafa del amo admitted that he saw pressures and felt the players were pressured but he did not personally see rubiales, de la fuente, or vilda speaking to jenni or jenni's brother on the plane. but he did see ivana andrés cry and said that someone told him that they were asking ivana to make a video. 

rafa hermoso then testified about jenni's being affected after the kiss and that he "saw her out of place and angry." he also said that jenni told him they were pressuring her to make a statement and that misa told her jorge vilda was going to talk to her.

rafa talked about vilda coming to him on the plane and trying to pressure him to talk to jenni. vilda asked about the kiss and focused everything as if it were no big deal, 'look, a spoiled kiss and the hype they are giving it.'

he confirmed that vilda said: '[rubiales] sent me to talk to you to see if your sister can appear in a video with her downplaying the kiss'. he told rafa it was the best for everyone. vilda told rafa about how bad rubiales' daughters were, that if jenni couldn't do it for them and for the president, that she could lose her position and to remember how well the federation has behaved with jenni and the favours they have done for her. rafa didn't know what he meant by that. and finally, vilda told rafa to take into account all the personal and professional consequences that all this could have on my sister.

rafa also talked about how their family had to leave madrid because of the media burden and they felt like they were in danger. and how horrible a feeling it was for jenni not to be called up after the world cup.

finally, rafa also said that he was wrong in downplaying the kiss during an interview with "el chiringuito" but that he was trying to protect his sister.

next, vitoriano testified and confirmed rafa's account of what happened with vilda on the plane. he testified that vilda said: "if [jenni] gives in, as she has little football left, rfef could have a deference with her, as if implying that she could have a position there. and if we didn't agree, it could also have consequences and not good ones...if it goes on the good side, good consequences, if it goes for the bad, it can have other consequences."

misa was the last witness for the day, who said clearly: "at no time did jenni tell us that the kiss was consensual." she saw jenni crying on several occasions when rubiales was talking to her inside the plane. there were several talks with rubiales, rafa del amo, vilda and four or five other people who she don't know their name, including a vox politician saying that 'the kiss doesn't matter'. misa remembered seeing de la fuente but doesn't know when. she also confirmed vilda spoke to jenni's brother on the plane.

when shown the video of the girls celebrating after the win and allegedly joking about the kiss, misa acknowledged that there were some jokes about the kiss until irene paredes said 'guys, this is very serious', and then they calmed down and realised how serious it was. and then they saw jenni "in a state" and it hit them.

misa also testified about what happened in ibiza after the win and said that jenni told her that albert luque was pressuring her. misa found it strange find it strange that a person who had nothing to do with the team was in ibiza because he wasn't at the world cup. and she testified that they did not enjoy [ibiza].

for misa, jenni had been the best on the team and "it was incomprehensible that he was not in the next call up."

postscript: marca's coverage of this trial is disgusting, so if you are following that news source, just stop! ���

watch this video from the quiero ser como girls instead.

[jacquitries]

When Gods Fall | T.R.

In a world where Tom Riddle is a god, there’s one thing he can’t conquer—you. When you’re hurt, his obsession comes to light, and you discover that even gods can fall.

𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘

You were a moth to a wildfire. A consuming, unrelenting force that demanded worship. Tom Riddle spoke, and the world leaned in. The rich timbre of his voice wove through the air like a spell of its own, and you were no different from the rest. Enamored. Entranced. But unlike them, you were aware.

Liking a god was folly.

So you stood at his side, not in deference, but in presence. You were skilled, an exceptional witch, and that was why he kept you close. That was why you belonged to his carefully curated circle, where he collected power like a dragon hoards gold. He favored strength, intelligence, potential. And you—you never fawned, never preened under his attention, never sought it. That, perhaps, was what frustrated him most.

Your mind was sharp, your wit cutting. You could match him in conversation, challenge him in ways no one else dared. He did not simply tolerate your presence—he sought it. And yet, for all his influence, for all the people who clamored for his favor, he found himself waiting for yours.

And he noticed when you were absent.

"She doesn’t treat you the way the others do."

The words came from Abraxas Malfoy, lounging lazily in his chair, twirling his wand between his fingers. The Slytherin common room buzzed around them, low murmurs of students engaged in hushed conversation, but Tom's circle had their own space, their own rules. Tom did not respond immediately, merely tilting his head as he regarded your usual empty seat.

Avery smirked. "You could command her attention if you wanted. Just a word, and she’d be on her knees like the rest."

Tom’s jaw ticked. "No, she wouldn’t."

A knowing chuckle rippled through his group. Even among his most devoted followers, it was obvious. He had everything, commanded everyone, but you remained just out of reach. You did not seek his approval, did not hang on his every word like the others.

And tonight, you weren’t here.

His fingers tapped against the armrest. "Where is she?"

A brief silence. Then, Rosier shrugged. "Off practicing, probably. She wasn’t at the meeting."

Tom said nothing. But he was already standing.

The night air was crisp, the scent of parchment still lingering on your robes as you left the library. A Gryffindor victory meant drunken revelry, songs slurred through corridors, bodies stumbling in celebration. You paid it little mind, until they found you.

Six of them. Their breath reeked of firewhiskey, their eyes glinted with something far more dangerous than intoxication.

"Look what we have here," one of them sneered, stepping too close. "A little Slytherin all alone."

You lifted your wand before he could blink. "Step away."

They laughed.

Then they lunged.

Your magic was fire, raw and untamed, searing through the night. A hex sent one crashing into the stone wall, another clutching his bleeding nose, a third convulsing from a well-placed curse. But there were too many. Hands clawed at you, nails raking, fists striking. You barely registered the pain through the adrenaline, the desperation to get free.

And then you did. You ran, battered and bruised, their slurred shouts chasing after you.

The common room was dim, the emerald glow of the lamps casting long shadows. And there he was.

Tom Riddle, seated by the fire, elegance carved into his every movement, looked up.

His expression stilled. His gaze sharpened, flicking over your torn robes, the smudges of blood, the trembling of your fingers. And then—

His eyes darkened, his jaw clenched. Rage curled through him like a brewing storm, restrained only by sheer force of will. His voice, when it came, was a whisper laced with steel.

"Tell me who hurt you."

You exhaled, unsteady, weary. "Please. Let me deal with it in the morning. The night has already taken too much from me."

Something flickered in his gaze. A pause. A realization. He took in your small frame, the exhaustion etched into your very being, and the fury simmering beneath his skin cooled.

He relented.

Wordlessly, he stood, reaching for your wrist. He led you through the corridors, the silence between you thick with unspoken words. He brought you to the prefects' bathroom, locking the door behind him.

He knelt before you.

You watched, breath caught in your throat, as he carefully examined your injuries, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. A whispered spell cleaned the blood, a salve smoothed over the bruises. His fingers lingered, tracing the tender marks left by their hands.

It was surreal. This god among men tending to you with the reverence of something fragile.

You swallowed. "I didn't know you had this side to you. That you cared like this."

His lips curled, not in amusement, but something else. "Just for you."

A confession, raw and unguarded. Your breath hitched.

Silence stretched, thick and heavy.

Then, softer, hesitant, he asked, "May I stay with you tonight? To ensure nothing else happens?"

Your pulse thrummed. You nodded.

You expected tension, discomfort, but the warmth of him beside you melted away the remnants of terror. In the quiet of the night, you whispered what had happened, your voice steady, but the weight of it unmistakable. He listened, unmoving, his hands curled into fists.

A tempest lay beneath his skin, but he remained still—for you.

Sleep claimed you.

And when you woke, he was gone.

The day stretched, a hollow ache settling in your chest. He was nowhere. You carried on, pretending the absence didn’t gnaw at you. You contemplated telling the professors, seeking justice, but the thought of doing it without him at your side felt unbearable.

The great hall was abuzz with chatter when he finally appeared, striding in as if nothing had changed. He approached, took the seat beside you, his voice smooth and unbothered. "How are you?"

You frowned. "Like a song cut short, if I’m honest. You disappeared."

A flicker of something crossed his face—an apology, rare and unexpected. "I had things to do."

Before you could ask, the headmaster rose, clearing his throat. The hall quieted.

"It is with great sorrow that I inform you of a tragedy. Earlier today, six Gryffindor students were found in the Forbidden Forest. Mauled."

Gasps. Cries. The weight of the announcement settled like a leaden fog.

You turned to him. And you knew.

He sat unmoving, his expression unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes burned with satisfaction. There was no remorse. No regret. Only a dark, quiet promise.

Your fingers found his beneath the table. You squeezed. He glanced at you, unreadable.

After dinner, you took his hand fully, leading him away, away from prying eyes and whispered speculations.

"I am yours."

His grip tightened, his breath ragged and uneven, as though holding onto his control by a thread. His voice broke free, raw and desperate, more a plea than an order. "Are you willing to bet your life on it? To say it again, knowing that once you do, you’ll never be able to leave my side?"

You leaned in, your lips brushing his ear, your breath a soft whisper against his skin. "I will say it a thousand times more. I am yours."

That was all it took.

With a feral growl that reverberated deep in his chest, Tom’s restraint shattered. His lips crashed into yours with a hunger so fierce, so consuming, it felt as though he were trying to take more than just your mouth. His hands were frantic, tangled in your hair, dragging you closer, as if he could meld you into him, erase any distance between you.

You could taste the desperation in him, the raw need that clawed at him beneath the mask of his control. It was a kiss that bordered on violent, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, his body pressing against yours like he wanted to consume you whole, devour you completely.

For a moment, the world faded away. There was nothing but him. his frantic touch, his heated breath, the way his hands gripped you like he would never let go.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath uneven. His voice was strained, guttural, barely a whisper. "I will keep you—body, soul, everything you are. No one will touch you. No one will have you but me. Forever."

And in that moment, something deep and ancient stirred within him, and you realized—even gods can fall.

[animeyanderelover]

Uhm this is my second request. Can I request a yandere satoru, suguru, sukuna, choso, toji and yuta x a female sorcerer eho is equal on their power strength. Thats all thank you.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive relationship, obsession, delusional mindset, clinginess, paranoia, manipulation

Tags: @lovley-valentine7

S/o is equally as strong as them

Ryomen Sukuna

🗾Ah yes, the babysitter. In some aspects Sukuna must say that you are doing a great job amusing him. Though it is obvious that you don’t share that pleasure. If you had the choice, you wouldn’t even be here right now as you have quit this profession a few years ago for reasons you have disclosed for everyone. It’s only due to a lot of pressure from the higher-ups and Gojo’s persistent nature that you reluctantly agree to assist in keeping an eye on Yuji and the curse sealed within him. Rumors swarm around everywhere, that you’re supposed to be on equal footing with Gojo and Sukuna, one of the strongest of today. Sukuna doesn’t believe that. Yes, he wants you to be strong so that he can enjoy the unavoidable fight to his fullest but he’s confident that at the end of the day he will still claim victory whilst standing over your bloody corpse. Still, he must admit that he enjoys the alive you quite a lot as well. It’s quite amusing to observe just how different you are to Gojo. Quiet, polite yet still bold enough to lecture him for his evil deeds. He finds it rather endearing, a malicious grin on his face as you talk to him as if you believe that he possesses a heart.

🗾It’s that pathetic display of empathy that has influenced his perception, a mistake during the Shibuya incident. As Gojo is sealed and Sukuna awakes, he challenges and kills Jogo and as Mahoraga attacks him, he feels truly alive. In that moment he forgets about you only for you to jump in and join the fight, trying to minimise the incomprehensible damage. During that fight Sukuna witnesses for the first time a different side to you, foolish kind you. An unwavering determination, a strength as deep and suffocating as the ocean. He’s taken as he watches you, fights against you and with you, even protects you against some of Mahoraga’s attacks. As euphoria and infatuated adrenaline pump through his veins, he finds himself wishing to continue this fight yet he knows that as of now he still isn’t strong enough. No, you deserve to be defeated as soon as he has achieved his strongest form once more. However, as he retreats into Yuji’s mind once more, taking in your bloody yet still standing form, he can’t help but have a change of heart. After all who would be more worthy of the strongest man than you, the strongest woman?

Fushiguro Toji

🪱The moment both you lock eyes in the little bar, you know that there is something about the other that’s different, powerful. Others might shudder in the face of such strength yet both of you are rather fascinated with the other. To Toji it truly doesn’t matter that you are a sorcerer and to you it doesn’t seem to matter that he kills even those who belong to your kind. He’s in for the money and you’re in because you’re bored, a constellation that works just fine for the both of you. Neither one of you meddles with the other’s business, neither one of you has serious feelings. At least until Toji breaks that agreement. The moment he becomes aware of his own possessiveness, he immediately seeks to stake his claim over you. Only that you despise having your freedom threatened like this. There’s no hesitation from either side as a fight breaks out as you have no serious attachment to Toji and he is at the stage where he only cares about possessing you and nothing more. Night and day eventually blur together as both of you lose track of time, clashing, attacking and hurting each other until both of you have reached for the first time in your lives your limit.

🪱Never before has Toji met someone who was able to keep up with him mentally as well as physically, only fueling his fixation on you. There’s no denying that he is fundamentally broken and unable to ever be fixed so you seem to be the best match as Toji needs someone who doesn’t falter nor break easily. A game of the greedy wolf and the sly cat starts from that day on as Toji actively hunts you down all whilst you skillfully escape him, tease him. For you this is a game, a sparking thrill that is just needed in your mundane life. For Toji it is initially too though he has the concrete goal to possess you by the end of it. As genuine feelings of infatuation strike his heart unexpectedly, he finds himself rethinking everything he thought to believe about the situation both him and you are in. He doesn’t desire just the simple thrill anymore. No, he desires something deeper, as ridiculous as that may sound coming from his lips. Now he just needs to convince you even though you are not the type to commit. However, Toji knows that you love playing with fire, are even willing to fuel it until you too get burned. Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? Something new and exciting?

Gojo Satoru

🩵When Gojo initially receives the news that a sorcerer from abroad is about to be transferred to Tokyo because it is believed that she is on his level, he doubts that statement. Not necessarily because he is overly arrogant but because from the very first breath he took, people were after his life all out of fear that he would grow up and master his abilities. Gojo has gone through a lot to achieve his powers, is confident in his position as the strongest sorcerer which is why he wonders just what kind of skills you must possess for others to even speculate that you might just be as powerful as he is. Yet when you arrive in his city, he doesn’t confront you about it. After all he knows that the higher-ups are hoping to figure out who between the two of you is more powerful and he won’t give them that pleasure. Instead he does everything to not even have you talk about any sorcerer-related stuff. No, he focuses on giving you a tour through the school, helps you with your train tickets and your bank account and is more than just eager to introduce you to his cuisine. Both of you spend a ton of time together and somehow both of you just connect immediately. Your experiences align.

🩵Gojo always used to be lonely. Perhaps that is just the way it is, standing at the top as the strongest. But now that has changed. Now you are also there, relating, struggling and supporting. You are able to share your insecurities with him and he is able to do the same. You appreciate Gojo for that and he appreciates you too. However, you underestimate just how severely attached Satoru grows to be. He grows insanely protective though not as much in a physical sense but in an emotional one. You’ve revealed your heart, so scarred and fragile from the weight of expectations and the sacrifices that were made for you to be who you are. There’s enough suffering you have gone through. No more now that he’s here. Relax instead, allow yourself to be protected by him instead of always neglecting your own wellbeing for the sake of others. His delusions get the better of him and that quickly. He’s made for you, you’re made for him. After all only the one labeled the strongest could understand the loss and loneliness that comes with such a title. And Satoru will do everything in his power to have you see this the same way as he does.

Geto Suguru

🗻Shunned, isolated, feared. Your past is the summary of why Suguru believes that non-sorcerers have to be murdered. After all it is unfair that someone as gifted and beautiful as you had to suffer so much only because you were special. Hearing about your tragic life, Geto immediately holds his hand out to you and offers you to join his plans. Only for you to reject that offer without a moment of hesitation. Not because you are tied to any duty but instead because you believe him of all people to commit acts of great injustice. Non-sorcerers do not deserve the fate he plans to bestow upon them. It is this mindset of yours that you possess despite the humiliation and pain you went through because of them that rattles Suguru’s mind more than anything. The idea that you, a woman with such shining talents and skills, see any worth in monkeys aggravates something deep within his heart. No words could express the disbelief and shock as you turn your back on him, spit on his kindness and discard him for the very people who treated you like a wild animal. He believes it to be a weakness in the beginning as he doesn’t let loose, convinced that you will be a great ally for his goal.

🗻Despite your firm decision to not join him, you still look after the two girls, treating them with kindness as you sympathise with their past. That only agitates Suguru more, the fact that you feel for them yet refuse to destroy the very root of their and your suffering. A walking, talking contradiction who only threatens to drive him mad. Something that indeed becomes true as dark feelings start to develop. Suguru refuses to accept that you truly are on the side of the monkeys and not on his side, the right side. It’s that denial that gives way for his excuses to bloom into delusions as he would accept anything but the blunt truth that you believe monkeys to be worth leaving alive. Instead he conjures up other explanations. A lack of love you felt as a child which has made you desperate for the monkey’s approval. Repressed trauma that holds you back from unleashing your full potential and your freedom. Brainwashing that you were put through as a child and that still has a hold on you today. Those excuses allow him to discredit your truth, allow him to believe that you are in need of his help. And he will give it to you even though you may not believe that you need it.

Kamo Choso

🩸Whenever Choso is within your vicinity, he is a mess. Rising body temperature, heart palpatations, sweaty palms and a flushed face. If he wouldn't know any better, he would believe himself to be sick. That, however, is impossible as he is a cursed womb. That and the fact that the sole trigger for those symptoms is always you. No, there has to be another explanation yet it takes Choso half an eternity until he has finally realised what he is feeling. Still, even though he now knows what he is feeling, he still doesn't know how to continue from here on out. It's only made so much worse because you are actually a senior of his younger brother who takes on the role of a mentor after so many other sorcerer lost their lives in Shibuya. You're skilled and confident, carry yourself with so much ease wherease Choso's brain short-circuits as soon as you talk to him. It is embarrassing that technically he is so much older than you yet has only recently experienced life due to being offered a vessel as a body. He should win you over, do something to show you how much he loves you yet he lacks the social etiquette to do so. There is only one way Choso knows how to show his care and that is by protecting his loved ones.

🩸​Yet you are breaking his heart as you make it apparent that you have no urgent need to rely on him as your protector. For Choso you are almost too independent, able to fight for yourself and protect yourself without his help. His entire existence is connected to the very concept of being the strong one who his loved ones can rely on but with you that purpose is mercilessly shattered and worst of all is that you are unaware of his inner turmoil and fear. Over and over again he witnesses how you risk your life by fighting against others which either ends with him jumping in to help you as his paranoia doesn't allow him to stay still or with him having an existential crisis when you manage to defeat them yourself, robbing him of his role. It feels wrong, so terribly wrong as all you want him to do is stay back and look after his own back. Almost as if trying to compensate for the lack of protection that Choso can do on the battlefield, he starts weasling his way into other aspects of your life and tries to help you there even if he has no idea what he is even supposed to do. Honestly, at times he is more of a hindrance than of help but don't tell him that. He's already inconsolable enough.

Okkotsu Yuta

💍​Yuta and you make acquaintance after disaster struck Shibuya and every person involved in that assault, non-sorcerers and sorcerers alike. When it is initially believed that Yuta is coming after Yuji you vow to protect your kohei from the student Gojo so confidently believed in. After all who else is there right now who could stop him and his curse Rika? You're unaware of Yuta's true intentions so the first meeting between the two of you quickly escalates into a fight all on your account. It certainly is a way to leave a first impression as Rika and Yuta clash with you who is able to fend them off. You're fully prepared for a long fight but Yuta luckily manages to gain your attention and signal his true intentions. Immediately he expresses admiration though for your loyalty, will to protect Yuji who is at heart innocent as well as for your impressive strength he was not aware of. It's surprising that he hasn't heard of you before. As soon as you know that Yuta is on your side, you partner up with him which makes for a very lethal combination as both of you are bright young talents with immense amounts of strength and skills. It's difficult though, with Gojo gone and Sukuna slowly returning.

💍​Perhaps that is why both of you bond much faster than under normal circumstances as both of you fight many battles together. You do not fear Rika like many others do and by extension you are less wary of Yuta himself and considering his past, that means quite a lot to him. Initially it seems to be a gradual change until there is this one sudden switch that happens in the heat of a battle where all of the weight of his premature obsession all of the sudden comes crashing down on him. Yuta panics, Rika senses it and a bloodbath follows that even manages to mortify you slightly. From that day on everything changes. Yuta is much more anxious to leave you alone on a battlefield, prefers to cling to you and block any attack that comes your way which serves as an insult to you. After all he should know best what you are capable of. Rika doesn't appreciate your tone yet you don't back down either, the atmosphere sometimes awfully hostile yet Yuta always manages to stop it. Deep down he is ashamed as he knows that you of all people he shouldn't doubt but all of that is irrelevant in the face of the earthquake that is his obsession, rattling his very rationality into shambles.

[dufferpuffer]

Oh no a post about Remus Chronic illness my utter kryptonite It's worth taking into account that his Lycanthropy causes chronic illness symptoms - but they do not last all month, no. (I try to go through it a lot here lol - my imperfect canon scouring)

He always looks ill - though that doesn't mean he feels ill. As you pointed out, in PoA he is generally an energetic, fun person - bubbly when he is feeling safe, quick-witted when pressed, etc.

He might have been wearing masks, lying to everyone all year to leave a certain impression of being a popular guy that's more put-together than he actually is (being a show off to the kids - but getting facts wrong in his classwork) - but I also think that's similar to who he is when he is happy. He liked being at Hogwarts.

Before the Full Moon he looks more sickly than usual, enough for Harry to notice at a glance when off Wolfsbane - but he could still study for and do exams. He 'feels off colour' but can still chat to people when on Wolfsbane.

So before the full moon, for a couple of days at least, he isn't too bad - just a little under-the-weather.

After the Full Moon He is pallid and his voice might be hoarse. If we guess he was recovering on the train from a Full Moon - he sleeps for 8 hours, looking so bad 'one hex could finish him off' With Wolfsbane: he cannot go to a small Christmas lunch. He looses a noticeable amount of weight very quickly. Judging by days stated in the books, he takes at least 2 days off work to recover. That recovery period would be longer without Wolfsbane.

So he spends about 10% of each month too sick to work, and likely a bit more than that noticeably under-the-weather - say 20%.

That could reflect in his work as a teacher, too - beyond it simply being his first year. He is disorganized and behind schedule. He puts his effort into making things engaging for the students at the cost of being the most informative, which would make sense if he can't work properly for up to 20% of the time.

But 80% of the time he is alright. He isn't constantly suffering or in pain. Pain doesn't even seem to be a particular symptom. He has a few days a month of being wasted, a few more days of being a little unwell - but he is absolutely quite perky, when life is good.

Enough of constantly in pain Remus (this is about him in Canon not a comment about personal HCs). When we meet him hes jumping around and giggling for most of the book. He's friendly and funny and a trickster. He is tired after his transformations, which also cause him to lose weight and to look sickly. Between them he looks healthy and is able to teach like 28 classes a week no problem. Before poa he had it harder than other people to get a job bc he's a werewolf, but it wasn't impossible, and there is no reason to think James didn't leave him an inheritance.

He becomes the tired and stressed out man in ootp. When it's impossible to get work as a werewolf even with a full hogwarts education and all the connections that he has. Should James have left him any money it's not unreasonable to think it ran short after 14 years, and the upkeep of his welsh home would then also prove harder - a reason why he'd move in with Sirius.

I mean, the sad and broken man of ootp and hbp is not the man we meet in poa, nothing close to it! He is reckless and charming and brash, he sets up obstacle courses for his exams which he has to reset for each of his students and be ready to rescue them from. The anti werewolf laws set up in ootp really really hurt him, and we see that in the books. This isn't his normal state

[rootedinrevisions]

Hard Shell, Soft Heart

SUMMARY: Scott Miller has a reputation. He's tough, no-nonsense, and all business when it comes to storm chasing. But when the season winds down and his team finds themselves stranded without a place to stay, Scott shocks everyone by inviting them to his home just north of the Missouri border. What they don’t expect is the man he turns into when he's home - a devoted husband, soon-to-be father, and complete softie for his wife. As the team settles in for the night, they witness a side of Scott they never imagined, proving that even the hardest shells can hold the softest hearts.

WARNING: None. This one's pretty fluffy.

A/N: Thank you to @h-ngm-nssluttt for sending in the request for this! I really hope you enjoy it and I appreciate your patience and udnerstanding as I know it's taken a while for me to get it finished!

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

TAGS: I just realized I don't have a tag list for Scott. I have one for Tyler, Javi, and Boone. So feel free if you'd like to be tagged in any future Scott stuff!

The sun hung high in the sky as the Storm Par team pulled off the highway, the rumble of their vehicles echoing into the late afternoon. The excitement of the day’s chase had faded into the tired satisfaction of another successful, albeit exhausting, storm hunt. Scott Miller parked the van near the gas station, his eyes scanning the horizon as the rest of the team filtered out.

"Alright," Manny, one of the guys said, his voice clipped as he pulled out his phone. "Let’s figure out where we’re staying tonight."

Javi stretched, grinning as he looked around. "Anyone else craving a cheeseburger and fries? We could just camp out on this gas station floor for the night. There’s a diner right there if we get hungry."

Kate rolled her eyes, popping her trunk to grab her bag. "We’ve been on the road for hours, Javi. Let’s find a proper place to sleep. Then we’ll think about food. The last thing I need is to wake up with gravel in my back."

"Fine," Javi chuckled, following her toward the convenience store. "Alright, someone find us a hotel."

The rest of the team gathered around the gas station’s picnic table, pulling out phones to search for vacancies. The mood shifted from lighthearted to mildly frustrated as the minutes ticked by. Hotel after hotel in the area showed "No Vacancy" or "Fully Booked."

"What’s going on?" Kate asked, holding up her phone. "The whole county’s sold out."

Javi leaned over her shoulder, frowning at the screen. "There’s got to be something open. We’re in southern Missouri, not downtown New York."

"State fair," Scott muttered, not bothering to look up from his own search. "And it’s the weekend. Everyone and their dog’s in town."

Javi groaned, sinking into the seat next to Scott. "Of course. The damn fair’s going on. That’s why everything’s packed. Guess we’re sleeping in the vans tonight."

Scott’s eyes flicked over to Javi, a hint of something softer behind his usual professional stare. "We’ll figure something out. Hold on."

The others continued scrolling through their phones, muttering about motels, campgrounds, and any other possible option that might have an opening. After another moment of searching, Scott looked up with a faint, almost imperceptible smile as he got the text back he was waiting on.

"Actually," he began, his tone steady, "I’ve got a place nearby."

Everyone paused, eyes narrowing.

"Seriously?" Javi’s eyebrow arched in disbelief. "You? Got a place? Like, you found a hotel or—?"

"No, my house," Scott replied with a shrug, completely nonchalant. "It’s about an hour north of here. I’ve got plenty of room. It’s closer than any of the hotels I’ve found that are at least an hour and a half out."

A beat of silence followed before Kate burst out laughing. "Wait, you? You have a house? And you’re offering to let us crash there?"

Scott’s lips twitched slightly, and he shoved his phone into his pocket. "Yeah. What’s so surprising about that?"

The others exchanged puzzled looks.

"You’re not pulling our leg, right? You live in a real house? With a roof and everything?" Javi added, eyeing Scott with newfound suspicion. 

Scott glanced up at him, unamused. "I don’t have time for jokes, Javi. My wife’s expecting us. I already called ahead."

"Wife?" Kate echoed, her eyes widening. "You have a wife?"

"Yeah," Scott said flatly, clearly enjoying their surprise. "And a dog."

"Okay, now I’m confused," Javi muttered. "The Scott Miller we know lives for the storms and hates anything that resembles...normal life. And yet, here we are, hearing about a wife and a dog? And a house? What’s next? A picket fence?"

Scott smirked. "The house is in the middle of nowhere, we don’t need a fence. It’s got a wraparound porch though, a few acres of land, and yeah, a dog. His name’s Ben."

"Well," Kate said, her arms crossed, "I’m in. I’m dying to see this home of yours."

Scott turned to face them, his expression settling into its usual businesslike demeanor. "I’ll give you the directions. Don’t make me regret this."

The team exchanged glances, the disbelief starting to settle into genuine curiosity. As they piled back into the vehicles, Javi leaned over to Kate.

"So, who’s taking bets on whether he actually has a wife or if he’s just trying to be mysterious? I’m guessing it’s a secret sister or something."

Kate rolled her eyes, her lips twitching into a smile. "I’m more interested in this dog. A golden retriever, maybe?"

Scott drove ahead, his car kicking up dust as they followed in the rearview mirror. The rest of the team settled into a quieter, more contemplative mood as they cruised through the winding roads, each of them trying to picture the kind of life Scott Miller could be hiding behind his tough exterior.

* * * * *

The rumble of engines grew louder as the vehicles made their way up the gravel drive, the sound of tires on the country road familiar and comforting. You stood on the porch, your hand resting lightly on your round bump, a smile spreading across your face. You’d been keeping busy inside the house, preparing for their arrival, but now, with Scott finally home after a long storm season, the weight of the day’s tasks seemed a little lighter.

It had been a hectic few weeks, but the timing couldn’t have been better. The "off season" had lined up perfectly with your due date, and Scott would be able to be home for the birth. The thought made your heart swell—he’d be there for all the sleepless nights, the early morning feedings, the first steps, and all the moments in between. And right now, you couldn’t wait to have him home to help finish getting the nursery ready and tie up all the little details before the big day arrived.

You stepped to the top of the porch steps, the humid evening air brushing across your skin. The golden light from the setting sun made everything feel warm and welcoming, just the way you had always imagined your life with Scott would be.

As the vehicles slowed, you could see the team glancing around in awe, clearly taken aback by the farmhouse’s charm. The house itself was just as you had always dreamed it would be—big, cozy, and full of life. You could already picture the future in every corner. A few acres of land, the wraparound porch where Scott would sit after long days, the backyard where you’d let the baby play once they were old enough. The possibilities felt endless, and it all felt so right.

You glanced back toward the door as Scott’s truck came into view. His face usually all business, broke into a wide grin when he saw you. He threw the truck into park before stepping out, his long strides quickly closing the distance between you. His eyes softened as he reached you, and before you could even say a word, he was right there, his hand gently resting on your belly.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice low but filled with concern as he leaned in to kiss you, his lips brushing against your forehead, then lightly against your lips.

You smiled, closing your eyes for a moment, savoring the warmth of his touch. "I’m more than okay," you whispered back. "I’m just happy you’re home."

Scott’s hand lingered on your bump as he leaned back, his smile widening at the sight of you standing there, glowing with happiness. He placed a hand on your cheek, brushing his thumb over your skin. "I’m happy I’m home, too. And I’ll be here for all of it, you know that, right?" His voice was thick with emotion.

You nodded, your heart full. "I know. We’re really doing this, Scott."

The sound of the team’s voices coming up the drive drew your attention, and you turned to see them stepping out of the vehicles. The realization of how different this was for Scott—the man who spent so much of his life chasing storms, always on the move—was not lost on you. This was his home. And now, with you, it was your home too.

"Alright," Scott said, turning to the team with a teasing grin. "You all ready to meet the wife and... the bump?"

The team’s jaws dropped, clearly surprised by the sight of you.

“Scott really has a wife?" Javi asked, his voice full of incredulity.

"You didn’t tell us she was this... this..." Kate trailed off, clearly struggling for the right words, her eyes flicking back and forth between you, your bump, and Scott.

Scott shrugged, the grin never leaving his face. "Figured I’d surprise you."

Javi laughed, clearly recovering from his shock. "I gotta say, Miller, didn’t see this one coming. You’re hiding a whole family."

"Not hiding," Scott corrected, looking down at you with soft affection. "Just keeping it private."

"Well, we definitely didn’t expect the 'American dream' to come with the storm-chaser package," Kate teased, her eyes twinkling as she turned toward the team.

You chuckled, crossing your arms over your bump. "You get used to it, trust me."

As the team slowly made their way inside, Scott slipped his hand into yours, leading you into the house. "Dinner will be ready in an hour or so," you said.

Scott’s eyes sparkled with appreciation. "Perfect. I appreciate you, sweetheart."

Inside, the house was warm and inviting, with the smell of homemade food filling the air. The space was exactly what you’d hoped for—a family home, comfortable and cozy, with soft lighting and the quiet hum of a life shared between two people and soon, a little one.

The team slowly made their way toward the front door, still trying to process the fact that Scott Miller the tough, no-nonsense storm-chaser, was married and about to be a dad. You smiled to yourself, your heart full as you followed Scott inside, feeling that comforting weight of being at home.

After everyone had settled in, you got to work, eager to make the most of this time with Scott and his team. Since getting the text from Scott, you’d been preparing a hearty meal for everyone. 

The sounds of laughter and light conversation from the living room filled the air as you checked the temperature on the pork roast and prepped the bread to go in the oven. It was nice to have a moment to yourself, even with the others around, and you savored the feeling of being in your own kitchen.

Every now and then, you’d hear Scott’s voice in the other room, a comforting presence you hadn’t realized you missed so much. The team seemed to be loosening up now that they were off the road, chatting about the chase and the season winding down. Every once in a while, Scott would pop his head in to check on you, offering a quick kiss on the cheek or asking if you needed help.

"Need anything?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe, eyes soft but still carrying that rugged edge.

You shook your head with a smile. "I’m good, babe. Go relax. I’ve got this."

He hesitated for a moment, clearly torn between offering help and leaving you to your own rhythm, but then he shrugged and backed out of the kitchen. "Alright. If you need me, just holler."

As Scott disappeared, Kate wandered in, glancing around at the food. "Need a hand?" she asked, a friendly smile tugging at her lips.

"No, I think I’ve got it handled, thank you though," you replied, giving her a smile of your own. "You go relax, I’ll call you when it’s ready."

A while later supper was ready but you needed ot finish the sides. But the table also needed to be set. You glanced towards the living room, not wanting to bother Scott but also not wanting to asks your guests for help either.

"Hey Scott, can you set the table on the back deck?" you asked, shouting towards the living room over your shoulder. "Dinner’s almost ready."

Scott’s eyes lit up with that familiar mischievous glint. He flashed a quick smile before walking over to where you stood. "Yes, dear," he said, his voice dripping with a playful tone that immediately caught the attention of the rest of the team.

The guys, who had been quietly milling around, shot each other surprised looks, clearly trying to keep from laughing.

"Did he just say 'Yes, dear'?" Javi asked, his eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Kate snickered, nudging Javi with her elbow. "I think he did. Didn’t know Scott had it in him."

Scott, not missing a beat, gave them a look over his shoulder. "Happy wife, happy life, fellas," he said with a knowing grin, before turning to you with a wink. "Right, sweetheart?"

You chuckled, a warm, affectionate feeling washing over you as you watched Scott seamlessly switch from the hard-ass storm-chaser to the loving, supportive husband.

"Of course," you replied, your voice full of adoration. "Thanks, babe."

With that, he walked out through the back door, the sound of him moving toward the deck cutting through the light banter between the team. You smiled to yourself, feeling that contentment you’d been missing when Scott had been gone on the road for so long. Everything felt right in this moment.

You moved back to the kitchen, checking the vegetable and pork roast that were in the oven to make sure everything was cooking evenly. The rest of the team slowly trickled into the dining room, chatting amongst themselves, their teasing continuing in the background.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and when you turned, you found Scott standing behind you, looking incredibly pleased with himself as he gestured to the back deck. "Table’s set," he said, the satisfaction clear in his voice.

You walked over to him, resting your hand lightly on his chest. "Thanks, babe," you said, your heart swelling with warmth. "You really are the best."

Scott grinned down at you, his fingers brushing against your bump. "Anything for you, sweetheart.”

*****

Dinner had gone off without a hitch, despite the initial shock from the team at seeing Scott so at ease in his own home. The teasing had been relentless, but Scott took it all in stride, offering nothing more than a smirk and a casual arm around your shoulders. Now, with the meal finished and the dishes put away, the team had trickled off to their respective spaces for the evening, exhaustion from the long chase finally settling in.

The night air was warm but carried the faintest breeze, rustling through the trees surrounding the house. Crickets chirped in the distance, their rhythmic song blending with the occasional quiet murmur of conversation from inside. You stood on the back porch, letting the stillness settle over you, one hand absentmindedly resting on your belly.

The sound of the screen door creaking open pulled you from your thoughts. A moment later, Scott stepped beside you, a cold glass of sweet tea in one hand, the other immediately finding its way to the small of your back.

“Tired?” he asked, his voice softer now that it was just the two of you.

You let out a slow breath, smiling as you leaned into his side. “A little. But I’m just glad you’re home.”

Scott hummed in agreement, pressing a kiss to your temple before guiding you over to the porch swing. He sat down first, pulling you gently into his side so you could rest against him. His hand found your belly without hesitation, thumb brushing lazily over the fabric of your dress.

“I still can’t believe the baby's going to be here soon. I'm glad I'll be able to be here for all of it,” he murmured. His voice was thick with a more vulnerable tone, something you didn't hear from Scott often.

You glanced up at him, catching the way his usual hardened expression had softened. “I was worried you’d miss it,” you admitted quietly.

Scott let out a breath, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t let that happen. The second I knew the due date, I made damn sure I’d be here.” His fingers traced gentle circles across your bump, as if grounding himself in the reality of it all. “Storm chasing is one thing, but this… this is the biggest thing I’ve ever been a part of.”

Your heart squeezed at his words, and you reached up, running your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck. “You’re gonna be an amazing dad, you know that?”

Scott chuckled, shaking his head. “Only because you’ll be an amazing mom.”

You smiled, shifting just enough to press a kiss to his jaw. “Guess our kid's gonna be pretty lucky then.”

For a while, neither of you spoke. You just sat there, swaying gently in the night air, wrapped up in each other and the life you were building together. The storm chasing season was over—for now—and for the first time in a long time, Scott Miller wasn’t thinking about the next chase. He was thinking about home.

And as far as he was concerned, he was exactly where he belonged.

[urspiritualnurse]

•Pick a card. (left to right).

What roof over your head is blocking the sky?

Pile 1.

The term "I" begins to flourish and build a meaning when a child is given the space to do so.

In this pile, I see a budding you, very new to the world and your own reflection, being taught by someone whether consciously or unconsciously that their heart is your heart, their mind is your mind, their stomach is your stomach.

And since the teaching taught you that someone else is your identity and very being, I see you giving your all to that person in innocent hopes that by doing so, you are fulfilling your own needs.

Your stomach would rumble and naively you would run and feed the other person, believing their intake is what fills your belly.

When a being merges identities with another, catastrophe is bound to occur.

Doesn't matter if it's the very person who birthed you, bathed you, fed you, educated you.

You will forever remain yours.

And they will remain theirs.

And this pattern of your distorted sense of self who perceives another's anatomy, emotional need, mental pursuits, existential crisis with it all of its burden as yours.

Comes from a place of unaware hurt.

The sensation of belonging feels soothing doesn't it?

And all the crowd suggests one must belong to their own selves but what happens when you have no self that you know of?

You cling to the people you believe have a self.

You are hungry, yet the unawareness and disconnection to your own stomach leaves you in a state of repeating distress, for you can sense only your hunger but not your belly. And you repeat the sad cycle where you work hard, cook meals and varieties, run towards a person who you believe is you, or has a self that you do not, and feed them.......hoping....pleading to a power so high that the food....miraculously rests on your lost stomach instead of the ones whose mouth that you just fed.

You are thirsty, you are hungry, you are unsatisfied, you are sad, you are in need of help and support, you are in distress.......yet....all you witness is yourself repeat the miserable cycle where all that you need you find yourself giving to another......

For where is the location of your mind? For you to ever deliver a suggestion of relief.

For where is the direction of your mood, heart, spirit, and soul? For you to ever lend a hand to your own aimless self.

To feed, one must first know where the mouth lies.

You know what and where everyone else's entirety lives.

But not yours.

Until you discover your own, and connect with it.

Your hands will forever feed the mouth of another, every time the sensation of hunger rumbles in your lost stomach.

You are kind, not everyone in your place would have been so willing to give.

But your nature that was born a giver has become even more grand, so much so your aware hands cannot guide it well.

And any waters no matter how kind and quenching, if has no deep land guiding it to a direction of clarity, the waters are bound to drown what wishes to live.

Your kind heart doesn't need a dam, just a little awareness and willingness to swiftly change and alter the pace and the direction of flow.

When people say, "the world doesn't revolve around you. Or not everything is about you."

Mind you, it is.

It always has been.

It always will.

So take care of the first person you see, touch, hear, feel, connect to.

This person is the one who is bound to you by fate, tied to your flesh and bones, and is made to accompany you from birth to your death.

So yes, it is all about you.

My dear reader, everything is indeed about you.

Pile 2.

The innate creativity we all are born with, needs an environment that makes creating something fun.

But in this pile I see someone who came before you, buying a land, building a house, choosing every colors on the wall and even hand picking art to hang on those walls.

And they hold in their hands some nails, they appear rusted and unreliable and there I see you, being called by them and asked to hammer those rusty nails.

And obediently you do so, but such domineering hands and will the person holds, they stop you midway, not trusting the placement you chose, and picked apart a spot and even decided the nails placement, and then struck in the first strike by themselves.

As they urge you to continue after what they have left for you to work with.

But the nails are rusty and placed in such ways that it is bound to twist in directions that are hard for a frame to hang.

I see you doing what you've been asked to do, with diligence and intention simply to contribute and help.

But as the inevitable failure occurs, by their own misplacement and choices.

I see them blaming all of it on you, on your craftsman ship, your hands and your strength, deeming it being too much or too less, too out of control and in need of taming.

There, in you I see a withering spirit, a flower of creativity losing its colors.

As your eyes grow dull from exhaustion, and your hands tremble with anger and fear.

Your mouth itches to speak what your intelligence could gather, but....you do not.

For reasons dear to you.

And I see you never again, trying to dive in your creativity.

Sometimes creation doesn't always mean art and crafts.

It also means relationship, creating something in between two detached individuals, that brings them together.

But you do not.

The sheer idea of building something terrifies you, exhausts you.

"What is the point?" You say,

For in each released creation, there will be millions who will point out the flaws in your choices and placements.

And ones choices are a part of them.

Nobody likes hearing another reject the choices they have made.

There are million things of us that are out in the open, that we cannot hide or unrelease, such as our face, limbs, height and body structures, voice, hair, etc.

And even that we work so hard to trim and keep in check.

Because that is something already out in the open, that you cannot inhale back in, within your discreet existential pockets.

But choices and creativity, ideas, thoughts, feelings are.

They are unreleased, hidden and needs your definite yes or no, for it to ever be seen or heard by another.

So you hide.

"Being picked apart and criticized for what is seen of me is enough.

I don't want any more of me to be known."

And thus,

You live in confinement, alone even amidst a crowd.

Silent even amidst a lively parade.

But you see,

All that is in you needs a place of release.

All alone you are, and there is loneliness even worse than being someone with nobody.

The loneliness that pushes away not just the world, family, friends, lovers, but also your ownself is far worse.

For you, truly will not have anyone.

To stand infront of the mirror and find none of you reflecting back is scary isn't it?

The fear of criticism has reasonably scarred you so.

It is understandable why the thought of opening up and creating feels so jarring.

I could say to you, "leave all of those people behind who have nothing but criticism to spare." But I know it isn't that easy, for sometimes those people with poisoned tongue are often the most dearest to our heart and soul.

The thought of forsaking them or being forsaken by them, is terrifying indeed.

In such case, what else can you do?

If not, start with cleansing your own way of self speech.

I know for sure, you talk to you more than any of them ever will.

And as it is said, children pick up language, dialect and even tones from their surroundings.

And you have picked all of those, with it also their venomous way of speaking.

Clean your speech, first.

That is where you shall start.

Show and let yourself hear, what a speech delivered by kindness feels like.

Because nobody's hearing ears are a disposable empty bucket for another's vile talk to fall in.

Be generous with compliments and appreciative endearments to yourself.

You deserve it.

Pile 3.

If your world was burning, in fire ferocious and mean.

In such heated tragedy, from the smoke filled air, if emerged out a glowing hope of brush.

In sync, if the sky echoed to you,

"Whatever you shall paint, will be the fate's verdict."

What will you paint?

Anything and everything with blue I suppose, a tide, a blizzard, enormous town engulfing sea, hungry floods, rivers, ponds, rains, hailstorm.......

But I see you, dipping the brush in the color red, painting embers, erupting and angry volcano, forest fire, destructive flames......

Again and again......

As though you were once said to believe that you are a specific species, a flower so rare and in the verge of extinction, and can only survive in a weather or a land, burning with destruction.

And you live, as all should, trying to survive....and not die....not meet an early end.

So you do everything in your power, to create all of your previous environment because someone or something said, you can survive only on those conditions.

I picture a little round penguin, realizing the necessity of the cold for its kind and living from then, simply eradicating any warmth out of these lands.

Working hard to ensure, he survives wherever he goes.

Bringing in frost, in all the world's.

Regardless of the weather and breeze the specific land holds, forcing into it soul freezing blizzards so it could live, thrive, survive.....anywhere........not just live in one place and die in one.

Realizing that it wants to travel, move, see and explore, yet realizing it's own survival limitations.....

But you are not such species.

Neither are you such endangered flower.

You are a child of man, born with adaptable flesh and spirit.

No storm, no weather, no lands control you and your living.

You can thrive and survive anywhere.

But you believe you can only live in environments where you once started from.

Fire, burning world, heated violence, agitation and discomfort, struggles and teary eyes.

All of it, you think you belong there.

And you make it time and again your current reality.

For we all are indeed gifted with that said brush, whether we believe it or not.

The skies might not have declared a prophecy to us about what the brush and our hands could create and do.

But we have them in us.

So it is up to you, what do you wish to create?

You do not have to continuously live on fire.

Let the weather change, let the circumstances change, doesn't matter if for better or for worse.

Someone turning 7 if was proclaimed to bring forth disaster, should we simply stop the child from growing and changing?

Such disasters that threaten you into stopping a free spirited change are illusions meant to bring stagnancy.

No change is bad enough to be ever, locked up and avoided.

It's alright.

To try for once the color blue, paint waters that shimmers like crystals.

You are meant for more, more than what you had, more than what you have gotten used to, and more only comes when you move around, explore, for no matter how many coals you collect, 10 or thousands, if it's not something new.... a brand new discovered rock, colored pebbles, or gems even, you cannot consider the addition of the same old coal as something more.

For that is simply a cycle of repetitions.

Pile 4.

A child of man is the most moldable form of universal clay there is.

You can make anything of him.

Leave a child in the coops. He will walk out a chicken.

Whatever he is surrounded by or is told he is, he becomes.

Even if for the visible intelligence, it seems absurd to even believe.

But he indeed becomes what he is told.

Adaptability becomes curse to mankind when the one who is given the right to mold, are unreliable and distorted source themselves.

God lands a soft clay on the doors of a newfound home.

And watches from above as the owner of the place, molds the given piece into what he must, or into what believes he must.

Projecting all of who he is, the molder himself carves an image untrue to the clay.

I see in this pile, a child of man, molded as a worm with no limbs.

And he lives crawling, wiggling on the ground.

When all of his fellow kin, moves with pride, making use of their limbs and mobility.

He simply watches with yearning as the one who lives as the man they are.

Accumulates abundance, satisfaction, sovereignty, fulfilments and secure riches.

But he who thinks is a limbless worm, grows sullen with tireless, sad, envy.

What do you do when although inspiration strucks your reigning horses, but nomatter how much motivation rushes through the breed, it's worn out, immobilized legs cannot endure a mile.

Such is the case,

We think when inspiration hits we can do anything.

But for a man to write, he must have his hands in place, if not so, all the running inspiration are bound to grow tired.

Something needs to be there, a way through, like the tip of a pen, or a open end of a water pipe.

For anything to release itself, one must have a way through.

For inspiration comes to no use if you have no means for it to release itself into the open air.

And I see this pile, believing they are somehow different, taking pride in it yet at the same time grimly despising it.

Such are the sides, you believe you either are capable or incapable.

You believe you are either superior or inferior.

Sometimes we dance between both, like a fickle wind blowing left from right.

I cannot guarantee the worthlessness of standards, hierarchies.

For God, mortal, demons, spirits, also have hierarchies of their own, even planets itself loom over another with pride and the ones behind rotate with a sense of loss.

In this world, noone has to agree to what you think of yourself or what place you belong or are capable of reaching.

It is alright.

To be angry at the world for looking at you and measuring your height and reach and declaring your worth, is exhausting.

It is pointless to fight a battle you cannot win.

For your feet that walked to the place where your mind knows is a space where all gets evaluated and labeled, must be the one that is stopped and checked.

You cannot burn in rage and despair, that is the good part about being born in this labeled society, everywhere there is a written statement of what that place is.

So, when you walk towards such places that declares your worth, when it is clearly stated that very place, evaluates an individuals worth.

Who can you get mad at?

When you walk into a room where a major is inspecting potential platoons, and he says to you, "you are not suitable for war." You cannot get angry at the man who is simply declaring the specific needs that place holds.

You simply walk out such spaces.

You decide what your worth is.

And from there, don't you ever look back, or around, or up, or down.

Do not seek a direction where you can meet the gaze of someone who disagrees to what you have decided.

This fight is not worth fighting.

And dear reader, when you are inspecting your ownself, and evaluating your worth, all the anger, sadness, disappointment you have towards the world's standards and hostility towards those who can not meet it, let it guide you to become what you wished they were.

Be generous, be empathetic, be fair and have the core bones in you that stands on the belief that "all men are created equal, that such question about one's worth is in itself meaningless, that need not be asked."

Go get that bag! Go get that dream!

You child of man pretending and deluding themselves to be anything less than that.

You can and you will!

You too can hold and acquire what you see another receive and get.

For you too are a child of man.

Capable of giving and receiving.

[hx4x4enthusiast]

Optimus realising he is a dad (PART 2)

HAHA your god has heard your prayers my followers. I finally wrote part two. *I am running on energy and spite excuse the god complex*

Part 1

“Oh, man I missed the bots so much. I can’t wait to go dune dashing with Bulky and Jacky again.”

“I agree, I love my family but I missed Bee, playing games with my cousins isn’t the same as with him.”

“Yeah I can’t wait to go on a long ride with Arcee.”

Despite exhaustion tugging on the kids, the prospect of seeing the bots again filled all of them with excitement. They collectively agreed to wait at Jack’s house for their guardians to pick them up or a Ground bridge to open. The roar of a powerful engine captured the attention of the children. Which promptly turned into confusion as well as curiosity, when they spotted a very familiar blue and red truck instead of their respective guardians vehicle modes.

Grabbing their bags and locking the door behind them the group walked over to the truck parked on the curb. Jack reached the Prime first and opened the door for Miko to crawl into first, afterwards he helped Raf before climbing into the drivers cab.

“Uh hello, Optimus uhm where are the others?”

“Did something happen to them?”

“Greetings young ones. I can assure you Raphael everyone is well, the lull in Decepticon activity, allowed for an increase of free time, which was as far as I witnessed well used. To answer your question Jack the other are at base, receiving a standard medical examination Ratchet insist upon.”

“Yeah no disrespect OP but why are you picking us up.”

“A valid question Miko, while all of you were on vacation a discovery was made. We… I didn’t plan would…could happen.”

Silence encased the small space of the cab as the truck started moving and pulling out of Jasper, never have the children witnessed Optimus so unsure. Even without really knowing the depth of the position of Prime. Optimus was always a pillar of strength knowledge and confidence, witnessing him being so unsure was concerning.

“As you know due to the war the birthing place of all Cybertronians the Well of All Sparks has stopped working. One of the consequences was a stop in the creation of new sparks, the human equivalent to a child. When a New Spark is created it outer protective layer is still soft and easily damaged, so they have to rely on a protector to help them. These protectors are called Foster additionally they makes sure that all of the Sparklings basic needs are met. When the outer shell has hardened the new spark is referred to as a Youngling and enters a mentoring program for their assigned task. Once they gained the basics and graduated the Youngling program, they are recognized as full Cybertronians.”

“Why are you telling us this, Optimus?”

“Yeah I mean didn’t really wanna have a lesson in school free time.” “MIKO.”

Jack snapped at her, but still he was just as curious as Raf about the answer the Prime would give. While Optimus wasn’t necessary a quiet wallflower, he also wasn’t the most vocal bot.

“Your question is reasonable Raf, to explain what happened in your absence and not shock you I deemed it reasonable to explain Cybertronians relationships as they differ in aspects to human concepts. So allow me to continue, through the entire prospect, you would refer to as “growing up”, no emotional relationships are formed. You are one in many as you start life, opening your spark to someone is in every sense a deeply personal and vulnerable experience on Cybertron. Hence such bonds are sacred and them shattering will negatively impact all parties of the bond. One of the strongest bonds known is the Carrier or Sire bond. To ensure the survival of our species every Cybertronians has a set of coding typically referred to as the Sire/Carrier Protocol. Though it’s activation differs for every bot, the programming makes us protective of our own it typically happens when we form attachments when they are young before they are recognized as Cybertronians. It is a bond the same as the ones you form with your parents at birth. To answer your question Raf, in the absence of all of you my body displayed most unusual behaviors. A scan from Ratchet revealed that nothing was wrong with my frame physically. After another analysis it was revealed that my Sire Protocol was running and my frame acted upon the missing of my Sparklings.”

“OMG DOES THAT MEAN THAT YOU HAVE KIDS, WHY HAVE WE NEVER MET, OMG THEY GOTTA BE SO CUTE-“

“MIKO-Jesus keep it down would you I appreciate not losing my hearing yet.”

“Wait guys, Optimus said that he didn’t know he was running this protocol so he didn’t knew he had children. And if his body acted because his Children were missing. And we were all gone. Then…then we are…”

Optimus came to a stop, opening his door allowing the children to exit his cab. Though none of them moved, realization now also displaying on Jacks and Mikos face. Optimus carefully transformed back into his bipedal form positioning the children in his servos. Carefully he sat down his back against the wall of the small cave he once found patrolling. Slowly the kids, one by one looked up at him. Countless battles a millennia of war and still never was the prime this nervous and unsure as in this moment.

“So does that mean I get to call you Dad?” “Seriously Miko?” “What, I get an alien space Jesus as a dad that is cool as hell.” “Omg why am I friends with you.” “Because you love me, Jackie Boy.” “Shut up Miko.”

All of his fear and stress left his frame as he saw the children bickering with each other like always. A fond huff escaped the prime as his intake stretched into a small smiled, his faceplate shifting into something soft, something loving. For the first time in a long time he was at Pease, his Sparklings, with him, safe and happy. Slowly as to not jostle them he raised his servo to his Chest right by his spark. The movement interrupted the little argument between Jack and Miko, both focusing back on Optimus. This time Raf stepped forward holding onto the Primes thumb for support before speaking.

“Optimus we kinda already saw you as a father figure.” “Yeah you always help us when we need us and y’ know have really good advice.” “Thank you I am truly grateful to have already fulfilled such a role for you.”

With fondness in his optics observed he his two youngest, but as his gaze met with the oldest of the three, Jack looked away. Noticing the avoidance of his gaze Optimus send a commlink to Ratchet with his location, a second later a Ground Bridge opened up, turning to the other two.

“Raf and Miko this Ground Bridge will bring you to base Bumblebee and Bulkhead are already waiting for your return. We will join you later”

Before Miko could start to argue Raf took her hand and shaking his head. Optimus carefully lowered his servo back onto the ground, allowing Raf and Miko to hop down. Turning around to meet Jacks gaze he gave them a nod, sharing a look between them a silent conversation happened. It always fascinated Optimus how human managed to communicate without speech, ERP fields or commlinks. The silent conversation ended with Miko and Raf turning around and disappearing into the ground bridge, which promptly disappeared afterwards. Leaving the cave empty and silent except for the Prime and young human. Optimus lifted his servo back up to his chest allowing the Jack to not have to make direct eye contact with him. The silence continued neither of them making conversation.

“I…I never had a dad. I mean I do he is somewhere probably, obviously otherwise I wouldn’t exist. Mom said he was still there in the beginning but then one day he just left. I don’t really remember for me it’s always been just Mom and me. But then I met Arcee and you and the others and there where so many people there. And I am not alone anymore but everything changed so fast and what if this isn’t real and everything will be gone.” “Change is never easy, but change is also a chance. It forces open doors and shows us possibilities we couldn’t see before. Sometimes that means that we are met with harsh pain and suffering. But it can also push us, it makes us grow and without it we cannot go forward. Sometimes it is fast and happened in the blink of an eye and sometimes it is slow and happens in the span of millennia. Go this way in your own time Jackson, the door is open but it is your step to take.” “Thanks Optimus.” “You are welcome, Jack. Would you like to stay here a moment longer or do you wish to return back to base.” “I…I think I want to stay here a bit longer with you if that’s alright? “I do not mind.”

 Relaxing against the Primes chassis, the two beings of different species stayed like this until the sun bid farewell and the younger one fell asleep. Protected by the millennia old titan with the war worn spark which found peace and love in three small humans.

Masterlist

[meganechan05]

The 6 Heroes

Been on my mind for a long while but took time for me to finally finish figuring out their designs and color schemes. So everything is under the cut.

Rhyniol Husty: (ライニオール・ハスティー)

This is a younger version of Rhyniol compared to what we saw in the movie. Essentially what I believed he would look like just as he took the throne as a young King rather than the very ornate and heavy-looking clothes he wears in Hakabaka. His famous cloak passed on for generations was originally open with the long cloth primarily behind him so his arms aren't as restricted when fighting.

Personality-wise, he's sorta a mix of both Racles and Gira where he does everything for the sake of others regardless of what happens. He's rather brash but as the battles continue, he develops his skills to become the strongest and the leader.

Raine Brasieri: (レイヌ・ブラシエリ)

Jeramie's father. A laid back individual who does his best to be a pacifist between both humand and Bugnarok after learning the latter was in the same situation at the hands of Dugded. But, like his son, he had to learn that sometimes violence is the only way to get the point across when it comes to war. And like his son, he's actually terrible at providing text for subtext. Most likely because he only spent time with his family during his exile so they always understood each other. His death when Jeramie was a child was due to transferring his Symbol of Rule to his son which was protecting him from illness. His last wish was hoping Ishabana would protect his son from the same fate.

He's very much a romantic and his attitude tends to get on everyone's nerves. I'm pretty sure Rhyniol always warned his bloodline to stay away from Raine's because of this and later have a stroke when he learns about Giramie.

Neura Ferous: (ニューラ・フェロス)

A thrill-seeking tinkerer who has their eyes set on innovation even with all the obstacles of what was available at the time. The other Kings see them as a bit of a nutjob whenever she gets inspired at the worst times, but they get the job done.

The development of the OhgerCalibur and King's Weapons was their work as well as the Kings' Symbol of Rule after some were damaged (further explanation at the bottom of the post).

Their design is based off of pilots as she's often riding God Tonbo from atop its head rather than the cockpit.

Cosca Cula: (コスカ・クューラ)

An honest women who considers everyone her family and would do her best to protect them. While she performs tasks expected of women at the time, the other Heroes were well aware of her strength as a warrior and would even be afraid of her if they take things too far. But she tries to offset such intimidating behavior by being playful at times which only makes things worse.

Her founding of Toufu was because of her wish to feed the planet wonderful food and for descendants to be powerful and protective of their own families.

Rodi Ran: (ロディ・ラン)

A free-spirited individual who admires anything he seems beautiful inside or out, though he prefers his descendants to be both. His blonde and pink hair is actually a mutation caused by his Mark that became a dominant trait passed down in his bloodline.

Despite being a healer, Rodi is actually prone to violence and would threaten others with his Mark with a sweet smile on his face; something inherited by his descendent, Himeno. The others often have to hold him back whenever he gets too agitated as even Raine would need to hold him back.

Xerces Glauco: (セルセス・グラウコ)

The last Hero to join the team due to their disbelief that they were tasked with protecting humanity after growing up witnessing the darkness of it. But they were convinced to join the team after being told becoming a Hero can allow them to make change and achieve the justice they always wanted.

Aside from Raine, Xerces was one of the Heroes that sympathized with the Bugnarok the most and almost had a falling out with Rhyniol when the plan was to make the Bugnarok the enemy. When founding Gokkan, Xerces made sure the laws they and their people agreed one would apply to both humans and Bugnarok in hopes the two sides would find peace.

As the original user of the Ice Seal, both of their eyes are ashen in color. When teaching their successor the Seal, they didn't know why it only affected one eye but played it off as a choice.

The Symbol of Rule:

Many months ago, I had a theory about the 6 Heroes' weapons and how 5 of them were what inspired the King's Weapon and the Modes used by all Kings: Sword, Gun, Sickle, Bow, Claw.

I believe the development of both the OhgerCalibur and King's Weapon was used as a way to unite the Five Kingdoms even with borders and the eventual issues between the next generations of Kings. The OhgerCalibur being based off ZERO was to respect Rhyniol who won the competition to become the planet's King but then decide it should be split between the five. The King's Weapon was to symbolize the Heroes banding together to fight a large threat. The ability to switch between different Modes allows flexibility.

But what about the Symbols of Rule?

Basically my thought was based off the fact that in Episode 44 when the new Alliance was signed, the Symbols of Rules were glowing: The OhgerCrown, Yanma's earring, Himeno's crown, Rita's bracelet, and Kaguragi's amulet. The outlier was Jeramie's KumonoSlayer despite the fact his Symbol was actually the gem embedded in his chest.

This was probably an afterthought but hear me out: the gem was only half of the actual power of Immortality.

What I found odd was the use of the gem when it came to defeating Grodie. How did the power of Eternal Life grant a living corpse true life but also have said corpse be killed after being granted eternal life? It didn't make sense to me, really, so I had to think through everything. I shouldn't, but my lore brain demands it.

As I said before, the KumonoSlayer glowed with the other Symbols of Rule when the Alliance was signed and sent the light that pierced the universe. I believe it's the other half of the Symbol or it's the main source of the power but gave half of its power to the gem. Such power returning upon Grodie's defeat.

I'm only saying this because of Jeramie's story with his mother. She died in battle when he was still a child (if we assume he aged normally and stopped aging upon reaching adulthood) and there was no sign of his father during said flashback. He was also much more attached to his mother despite having fond memories of his father like how he was the one who taught Jeramie how to draw and told him the story of King-Ohger.

Given the implications that his father died some time after turning his KumonoSlayer into Jeramie's mask. Without the KumonoSlayer, he would no longer have full access to the power of Eternal Life which would make him more susceptible to illness and disease and die an early death. And it's highly likely given the fact he was banished and wouldn't have been allowed near humans so he wouldn't get the treatment he needed. He would leave everything to Nephila to take care of their child before she, too, dies but in battle.

So what about the other Symbols?

This is a bit more of a stretch as it's connected to my theory of the original weapons of the 6 Heroes were actually the modes used in the King's Weapon.

We'll start with Husty Family. The OhgerCrown and Lance were sealed away due to its universal power. The OhgerCalibur ZERO was Rhyniol's original sword and also the key to sealing and unsealing the Crown and Lance (along with the king's crown). And in order to activate ZERO, it needed a blood sample of the one wielding it to transform.

The power of the other Symbols were also sealed.

Considering the other 4 countries don't have 2000-year-old weapons like Shugoddom or Jeramie, the next closest thing would be their Symbols of Rule. If we consider the idea of the Heroes taking their damaged weapons and turning them into such Symbols, it's most likely how they sealed it. What makes them different from Shugoddom is that reforging such weapons would free the Symbols of the restriction that is requiring the bloodline to use it which is important given that 3 of the countries don't use bloodline for succession.

But again, these are just theories and speculations based off what the show has given us. I could just be reading into it too much, but it's a lot to think about whenever I'm trying to brainstorm stories revolving around the Symbols.

As for the markings on the drawings, its mainly my take on the fact that they're the original users of said powers so such use would create long-lasting effects on them.