#but not all of it because he is COMPETITIVE to the roots of his soul

[elodieunderglass]

does Killie manage to be a flat-and-jumps jockey all the way up to retirement/greyuncle era, or does injury (and Derek) force him to find some other occupation in between the two? fascinated to know what the second-choice job would be since jockey is so much what Killie IS

(Killie the jockey OC)

I don’t actually know! You’re very right! I have no idea!

The average retirement age for a flat jockey is 31 and jump is 33. Of this, the tough little lightweight jockeys, mostly of the previous era when people were smaller, seem to keep going for much longer than you’d think, many riding well into their fifties - which is actually quite old for any athlete. There seems to be a relationship between generational jockeys and longer careers/older retirements, too, though that’s probably combinations of family support, as well as possibly passing down the especially wiry/muscular builds that do a bit better in the context. It’s a topic that gets danced around a bit, but it’s known that being more muscular and better fed, with better bone health, means you can take more damage and bounce back faster. Also, jockeys frequently retire in their late twenties without injury or being forced, because they’ve achieved their natural adult size and it simply becomes incompatible with the job. So shorter ones do seem to last longer in the job; and as a bonus, turn into those wonderfully wiry little tiny old people that stump around the place in big boots and giant coats, muttering about their allotments. Killie is set up to be one of those.

I want him to be forcibly retired, though, and I DON’T want him to go the predicted trajectory of training racehorses OR raising another generation. Even though I find it a personal Special Interest and highly absorbing, it is such an incredibly STUPID sport. I think he’ll get dragged out of it by Derek by the scruff of his neck and maybe simply kept as a Kept Man. And there might be an interesting story to explore there in itself. Who the HELL is Killie without his job? (Crisis.)

We know he’s patient and kind with children, good at nature, excellent at mental arithmetic, and somehow ends up strangely wealthy (they’d probably settle in the UK, where keeping horses in the UK is NO cheap hobby.) maybe he simply earns and saves a true fortune of prize money, from tackling a career’s worth of astronomical purses, and retires honestly to be a surprisingly pleasant house-husband.

I think @eldriwolf has fond memories of a retired jockey who was a kind and patient beekeeper and science educator. Maybe he could do that. Maybe as a nod to Tark, Diana Wynne Jones’s retired jockey, and my own interests/hobbies, he could get violently competitive about village fetes/allotment shows, and enter his increasingly serious show tomatoes or something. Killie with his own Jam Saga going on, silently fighting psychic battles with his many enemies at parish council meetings that Derek drags him to because they’re doing their Civic Duty 😌 and Killie’s having a full wizard fight on the astral plane with That Bitch Agatha-who-strategically-shoved-his-Victoria-sponge-cake-off-the-table.

Who knows!! What do you think?

[cutieeva]

God Of The Chisel

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 Female Reader

Warnings : Manipulation. Detail Sex. Rape.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

❛ 見る人 目の ❜

Sculpture. Molding soul into a form, where art meets emotions. That's the definition for (Y/N), the reason of her learning it, the motivation of her creating such art because she can release her emotions through it yet what happens if she has to create the most beautiful sculpture in the entire world, a sculpture who fell for his own sculpturor.

"So, (Y/N) senpai what sculpture are you going to do this time ?" Itadori Yūji asked clearly excited for his senior's new otherworldly addition to arrive.

"I have no idea this time". She answered, a deep sigh slip her lips as her (E/C) eyes continue to stare at the thin poster of competition.

"Why though ? You are a genius in our major or should I say in Cutieeva university". Kugisaki Nobara replied, chewing the thin end of her paintbrush. "Right Megu-chan ?" The said boy, Fushiguro Megumi nod senselessly busy creating his own carving.

"Look, the competition has clearly said the participators has to sculpture the most beautiful creation the world has yet to seen out of their perspective imaginations and the winner would only be who's sculpture is most well loved by the audience not even judges or critics !!" (Y/N) explained re-reading the poster. "If my art didn't seem beautiful enough to normal eyes than it will be pure humiliation ! Not only for me but for other participators too ! Because it indirectly suggest that us all elite students of art isn't yet good enough to be approved by daily to daily audience only capable to approve to the mediocre judges who stuck by rules and that we are worthlessly wasting money". She expressed her further worries.

"Oh ! I didn't knew it was that deep". Yuji glib laughed.

"Shut up !" Nobora nudged the boy seeing (Y/N) dug fingers on her scale as if she desire to rip hair from the roots.

"(Y/N)-san do not worry. Art is a way to release your emotions not for others to ridicule". Getō Suguru smiled, walking into the art studio earning all four student's attention. "No pressure should be felt or else the art won't be as nearly beautiful as it could be if you do it like you did in the past".

"But Suguru sensei I can't stand the humiliation of losing in front of others so bluntly". Shamefully she down her head.

"Then mold it". (Y/N) tilted her head.

"What do you mean ?" Geto smiled wider.

"Mold your frustration, anger, disappointed, fear on the clay. Use your vivid imagination of horrors and your version of beauty on the sculpture. Use this gift of sculpting to release your emotions so you can at least create something because without creating how can you refine it in the first place ?" The art teacher thoroughly described his most talented student who nod feeling a bit light yet uncertain.

"Also those monkeys are called monkeys for a reason if they don't understand your brilliant art". He added causing Yuji to chuckle.

"They are humans as you, sensei". Megumi mutter loud enough for each to hear.

"Also Fushiguro-San not forget I will be there to inspect your sculpture".

"I know".

"I am reminding it. Just in case". Geto merely smiled at the black head boy glaring at him making other three laugh.

"Ha ! Thank you Suguru sensei and megumi-Chan ! I will do my best". She raised her closed fist in the air.

"Thank us too !" Yuji yelled.

"Thank you Yuji-chan and nobara-chan too". She added giggling at their childish antics finding a new spirit to work with even though in the back of her mind she wonder what will be the result of her emotions molding the clay will be.

In a quiet, isolated white room (Y/N)'s fingers wrapped around the cool, damp clay, she felt an surge of creative energy coursing through her veins. With unwavering focus, she closed her eyes, surrendering to the depths of her imagination. In the darkness, a vision began to take shape— the most breathtakingly beautiful form her mind could conjure. With each gentle touch, the clay yielded to her will, as if alive and responding to her every thought. Her hands moved deftly, sculpting the body, hands, arms, and every delicate detail, just as she envisioned. Time stood still as she became one with the creative process, lost in the pool of her imagination.

Hours passed, or perhaps only moments – (Y/N) was oblivious to the world around her. Her entire being was consumed by the artistic expression unfolding beneath her fingers. Finally, she opened her eyes, and her gaze fell upon the emerging masterpiece. Almost half of the body had taken form, and she gasped in wonder, grasping the clay as if to ensure it was real. A soft smile spread across her face as she realized that whatever she was creating was going to be breathtakingly beautiful – a true reflection of the vision that had possessed her. The clay seemed to pulse with a life of its own, as if infused with the essence of her imagination. (Y/N)'s heart swelled with excitement, knowing that she was crafting something extraordinary, a testament to the transformative power of art.

As the day succumbed to the allure of twilight, (Y/N) remained entranced, her fingers moving with a life of their own. The setting sun cast a warm orange glow upon her workspace, but she didn't notice. The stars began to twinkle like diamonds in the night sky, and the moon rose high, bathing the world in a soft, ethereal light. Yet, she continued to create, oblivious to the passage of time. Hours melted away, and the night deepened, however (Y/N)'s focus never wavered. Her body seemed to forget its needs – hunger, fatigue, and thirst became distant memories. Her sole purpose was to bring forth the masterpiece unfolding before her. The clay appeared to respond to her every touch, as if a divine force had taken residence within her.

With each delicate stroke, the sculpture evolved, gaining refinement and nuance. (Y/N)'s hands moved with a precision that bordered on reverence, as if she were channeling the essence of the divine. The air around her seemed to vibrate with creative energy, and the clay itself appeared to pulse with an otherworldly life. In this state of flow, (Y/N) became one with her art, transcending mortality. Her soul merged with the sculpture, infusing it with a spark of the divine. The boundaries between creator and creation blurred, and she became the deity, shaping the clay with an omnipotent touch. Time lost all meaning as she worked tirelessly, sleepless and unrelenting, driven by an insatiable passion to bring forth perfection.

As the next day dawned, her fingers moved with a newfound sense of purpose, her fingers deftly shaping the final details of her masterpiece. The sculpture stood before her, a magnificent form born from her unwavering dedication. Yet, one crucial element remained— the face, the window to the soul, where expression and emotion would breathe life into her creation. Thus, she was about to move to add details when the sun's warm, golden light danced across her art, her (E/C) eyes gaze locked onto her creation, and she felt the weight of reality settle upon her. The world around her snapped into focus, and she beheld her masterpiece in awe.

Transfixed, she reached out a trembling hand to touch the sculpture, as if to ensure it was truly real. However her body finally acknowledged its limits, her legs buckled, and she sank to the ground, exhausted. A soft cry escaped her lips as she left a voice message "Nobara... food... water..." she whispered, voice barely audible.

Despite her physical collapse, an overwhelming sense of joy and pride swelled within her chest, threatening to burst forth. Tears of happiness pricked at the corners of her eyes as she gazed upon her creation, now radiant in the warm sunlight. The sculpture seemed to pulse with a life of its own, as if infused with the essence of her being. (Y/N)'s heart overflowed with a sense of accomplishment, knowing she had poured her very soul into this masterpiece that is yet to be finished.

Moments later Nobara approached Y/N with a gentle smile, carrying a tray laden with food and water, the aroma of nourishment wafted through the air, enticing Y/N's senses. Nobara's eyes sparkled with warmth as she helped Y/N sit up, cradling her head as she offered a refreshing sip of water.

Meanwhile, Yuji's excitement burst forth like a pent-up torrent, his words tumbling out in an effusive stream: "Wow, (Y/N) senpai this is... this is... incredible! The detail, the emotion, the sheer beauty of it! It's like nothing I've ever seen before!" His gaze darted between his senior and the sculpture, his eyes aglow with wonder.

Geto, beaming with pride, nodded his head in approval, his smile stretching from ear to ear. "(Y/N)-san, my student, you have truly outdone yourself. I've never seen such imagination, such skill, such... life breathed into a creation. You've surpassed even my expectations!"

Megumi, usually a silent observer, stood transfixed, his dark blue eyes fixed upon the sculpture as if mesmerized. His gaze seemed to hold a deep reverence, as if the artwork had awakened a part of him long dormant. For once, his quiet nature was not a result of reserve, but rather, utter captivation.

(Y/N) sipped the water and nibbled on the food, her strength slowly returning, she smiled weakly, basking in the praise and admiration of her friends and teacher. The warmth of their words enveloped her, filling her with a sense of pride and accomplishment.

"I know. This year's grand prize will also be rewarded to our university, won by none other than you, (Y/N) !" Geto's eyes shone with warm and paternal pride. His smile radiated deep satisfaction like his heart had been poured into the sculpture. Unspoken awe. Golden pride.

(Y/N) blush from all the showers of compliment yet she remained a little doubtful as the expression of the face is yet to be crafted dwelling whether the window of the model's will ruin her almost masterpiece.

"Hopefully I can create his expression. I still do not know how or what to shape his expression, hair". Nobora chuckle, sitting near her.

"Do not worry ! We all believe in you. Do your best !" She raised her fist in the air, trying to cheer her friend which she succeed because (Y/N)'s tension dissolved, chewing the food.

"But ! Do not forget to take food because forget award you can't even move your hands if this is how it goes on". Megumi calmly advised.

"Right ! (Y/N) senpai ! Please rest your body". Yuji cheerfully agreed, still captivated by the art with his eyes.

"Thank you. I will". And she did heed to their advise taking full three hours break while laying on her bed with jumble of confusion, thoughts tangled in a web of uncertainty inside her mind. She stared blankly at the clay, her fingers poised in mid-air, as if waiting for the familiar spark of inspiration to strike.

However it didn't come.

For the first time, her natural gift seemed to be faltering. She felt like a novice again, fumbling in the dark, unsure of how to mold his expression. The ease with which she usually shaped clay into breathtaking works of art had deserted her. Her eyes, once closed in confident intuition, now snapped open in frustration. Reaching for a sketchbook, (Y/N) began to scribble down ideas, trying to coax her elusive creativity back to the surface. The pencil scratched across the paper, a staccato rhythm that echoed her racing thoughts. She was forced to confront the possibility that her imagination, once a boundless ocean, might have limits after all.

This unfamiliar struggle was like reminiscing her beginning stage again, rediscovering the basics of her craft. The discomfort was palpable, like trying to relearn a forgotten language. Fingers moved hesitantly, as if seeking permission to create, her mind clouded by self-doubt. The sketchbook became a lifeline, a tangible connection to her artistic voice, which seemed to be whispering in a language she could no longer understand.

"I think I should sleep". Trying for hours with no avails she shut her notebook harshly, closing her eyes to drift into the land of dream in hopes of re-freshing her mind and back to her usual gifted self.

(Y/N) unusually found herself standing in a familiar sun-drenched studio, surrounded by half-finished sculptures and scattered tools. Her late mother stood before a work-in-progress, chisel in hand and for odd reasons she approached, curiosity etched on her face, and asked "Mother, what are you doing?"

"I am creating a sculpture, sweet one. I'm bringing this clay to life." A smile curve upon her frown look

(Y/N)'s gaze wandered to a nearby model, posed with elegance, yet lacking an upper torso. "Mother, why is she like that?" she asked, her voice tinged with innocence.

"Oh, my child, I couldn't complete her". Her mother burst into laughter

"Then will it always be like this?" Her younger self tilted her head.

Her mother's expression turned gentle, "No, my dear. Creating art means being patient. When I feel stuck, I pause, enjoy life, and give time for creativity to return to me. It's like a river, flowing and ebbing. I must learn to wait for the tide to come back."

And suddenly the image turn distant and faded into burl letting (Y/N) open her eyes with tears gliding her sides and reality welcome her, a world without her mother.

The memory of her mother's words lingering like a whispered secret with other bitter memories of her coffin flood too spreading a bittersweet taste on her lips. "Mother you never left me. Did you ?" Smiling to her herself she understood the truth : patience was the key. She needed to wait, to let her imagination recharge, and trust that the muse would return to her when the time was right rather than forcing the art to flow.

From the moment on she let go the weight that had been pressing upon her by abandoning the almost-finished sculpture, leaving it to stand silently, a testament to her temporary surrender.

With a newfound sense of freedom, she wandered into the garden, her fingers trailing across the soft petals of blooming flowers. The gentle rustle of leaves and sweet songs of birds enveloped her, calming her mind. Next, she found herself lounging on her bed, surrounded by pillows, lost in the world of games on her console. The vibrant colors and soothing music transported her to a realm where worries didn't exist.

As the day wore on, (Y/N) continued to indulge in the joy of doing nothing. She lazily flipped through the pages of a book, savoring the feel of the paper between her fingers. The words blurred together, but she didn't care – she was too busy basking in the serenity of the moment. Time lost all meaning as she drifted from one leisurely activity to the next. The competition, the sculpture, and her doubts all faded into the background, replaced by a sense of tranquility and release.

Until the creativity flowed back to her motivating her emotions to meet her clay giving birth to the sculpture's expression she always think is the true definition. With renewed inspiration, (Y/N) approached her sculpture, her hands moving with deliberate purpose. She carefully crafted the expression, etching a window to the soul onto the cold, clay body. The eyes, once blank, now sparkled with a deep, inner light, as if the very essence of life had been breathed into them.

The subtle curve of his lips, the gentle tilt of the head, all conspired to reveal the depths of the subject's being. The clay, once mere material, had transformed into a vessel for the human experience and the sculptor stepped back, her gaze swept across the masterpiece, drinking in the nuances of her creation. The world, with all its complexities and emotions, seemed to emanate from this single, silent form.

With a final, gentle touch, she completed the sculpture, infusing it with a sense of vulnerability and strength. The cold body now pulsed with a quiet, inner radiance, as if the very soul of the subject had been laid bare for all to see. In this moment, (Y/N) knew she had created something extraordinary—a window to the human experience, crafted with precision, passion, and patience. The world would soon behold her masterpiece and she was ready to be crowned as the winner of all, surrounded by claps of people.

"But what the name of this model will be ?" Deep in thought she grab her notebook looking at her male utter beautiful sculpture posed in the very same pose she choose before a name pop in her mind and she bestow the name sought to capture the harmony of opposing forces that her sculpture embodied. "Gojo" represented the balance of the five elements or more like five attributes of the human body such as head, body, arm, torse while "Satoru" symbolized the enlightenment and comprehend of his unworldly creation.

"Good". Smiling, she name her creation, granted him an identity, a sense of self that transcended the mere clay and stone even creating a inexplicable connection to herself with the art. "Is this how mother felt granting her pieces names ?" A chuckle escape her lips remembering how the old woman usually call her pieces her children along her own breathing child, (Y/N).

The competition host's voice boomed, "Welcome to the Grand People's Award Choice! Today, you will decide which sculpture reigns supreme!" The crowd murmured in excitement as they began their journey through the exhibition hall.

Sculptures of varying shapes, sizes, and materials dotted the landscape, each one unique and breathtaking in its own right. The host deliberately omitted the artists' names, allowing the art to speak for itself. Amidst the sea of onlookers, the creators themselves blended in, anonymous and eager.

(Y/N) fidgeted, her mind racing with doubts despite her teacher's encouraging words and her friends' reassurances and the crowd flowed around her, something remarkable happened. People would pause, glance at her sculpture, the Gojo Sataru, and then stop dead in their tracks. They couldn't help but be drawn back to the majestic male form, as if an otherworldly deity had been captured in clay.

Whispers spread like wildfire: "This one...this one is something special." Strangers would nod in agreement, their eyes locked on the sculpture's serene face. Even those who attempted to move on to other pieces found themselves inexplicably returning, transfixed by the beauty before them.

As the hours ticked by, a sense of certainty settled over the crowd. It was as if the winner had already been chosen, not by the judges, but by the people themselves. (Y/N)'s anxiety began to dissipate, replaced by a cautious optimism. She crossed her fingers, hoping against hope that the next hours would fly by, bringing the voting to a close and confirming what the crowd had already decided in their hearts.

The countdown clock struck its final moment, and the host's face ignited with a triumphant smile. "The moment of truth has arrived!" he declared, his voice electric with excitement. "The votes are in, and the winner of this Supreme competition will be revealed!"

(Y/N) held her breath, her heart racing like a wild stallion. Her friends offered reassuring pats on the shoulder, but she was too entranced by the host's dramatic pause to notice.

The room hung in suspended animation, the only sound the soft hum of bated breath. And then, a sly smile crept onto the host's lips, like a whispered secret. He parted his lips, and (Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat.

"(L/N) (Y/N) from Cutieeva University... Congratulations! You are the champion!" he announced, his voice thundering through the hall like a victorious fanfare.

Pandemonium erupted as (Y/N) stood frozen, her eyes wide with wonder. Her friends screamed with joy, hugging her tightly as tears of elation streamed down her face. The host approached her, a congratulatory envelope in hand, and (Y/N) felt like she was soaring on the wings of triumph, her dream finally within grasp. She still can't believe out of all the brilliant universities around the globe did her sculpture won, granting her the award. (Y/N) felt like she was living in a dream, where time blurred and moments merged into a kaleidoscope of emotions. One instant, she was standing frozen, her heart racing with excitement; the next, she was beside the host, basking in the glory of her triumph.

The award felt heavy in her hands, a tangible symbol of her achievement. Thunderous applause enveloped her, a deafening roar that threatened to consume her. She opened her mouth to speak the speech, but her words were lost in the chaos, barely audible even to herself.

Before she knew it, she was swept away by a tide of well-wishers —friends, classmates, teachers, and even her principal — all beaming with pride, cheering her as the pride of their school. The celebration was a whirlwind, a colorful blur of laughter, tears, and congratulations.

And then, suddenly, she found herself alone, sitting on her bed, surrounded by the quiet of the night. The moon cast an ethereal glow, illuminating her room with an otherworldly light. She breathed in deeply, the stillness a balm to her frazzled nerves and she gazed out the window, a slow smile spread across her face. It had happened. She had won. The realization dawned on her, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.

"Mother ! I have achieved what I wanted". She said gazing fondly at the frame of her mother, settling the golden award beside it. Everything is perfect and will be. Right ? Because little did she know, this moment of triumph was only the beginning of a dark and twisted journey.

From that moment on, (Y/N)'s sculpture became a global sensation, drawing thousands of tourists to the university gallery. At first, she was ecstatic, basking in the glory of her creation's viral fame. She had won awards before, yet never had her work resonated with so many people worldwide. With pride, she showcased her masterpiece to art enthusiasts, critics, and curious onlookers. She reveled in their admiration, laughing and joking about being a "deity" who had created such a stunning work. However as time passed, a creeping sense of unease began to shadow her joy.

The whispers started innocently enough of

"How handsome he is!"

"I wish he was real!"

"Oh god, why couldn't I meet such a man?"

"Why the god didn't create such wonderful man ?"

"Hopefully he come to life".

"If I could then I would sacrifice my everything to see this man alive".

"Ah ! Why can't he come alive".

Hoever soon, the comments took on a life of their own, echoing in her mind like a mantra. She began to feel like she was losing control, as if her own creation had taken on a persona of its own. The praise, once music to her ears, now felt like a dark omen. She started to wonder if she had unleashed something sinister into the world. The constant attention, the endless scrutiny, and the obsessive admiration began to suffocate her. The deity joke wasn't funny anymore. It felt like a haunting prophecy.

A desolate realm of darkness she could see along the suffocating void that crushed her beneath its oppressive weight. The air was heavy with the stench of malevolent presence, and she sense of eyes upon her, boring into her very soul. In mist of that a voce came, first the voice was a distant whisper, a faint rustling of dry leaves that seemed to carry on the wind however it grew louder, more urgent, until turning a maddening chant that echoed through her mind. A single, raspy voice, repeating a phrase that seemed to draw closer with each iteration, its words indistinguishable but its sinister intent clear.

The voice was a cold breeze on the back of her neck. (Y/N) tried to flee, but her legs were leaden, her body trapped in a living nightmare. And then, the voice whispered a single, chilling phrase, its tone a masterful blend of malice and seduction "Gojo Sataru."

The name exploded in her mind like a firework of terror, shattering the fragile remnants of her sanity. (Y/N) jolted awake, her eyes wide with horror, her lips frozen in a silent scream. Sweat dripped from her brow like blood from a wound, her heart racing with a fear that threatened to consume her whole. For a moment, she lay there, paralyzed with terror, the darkness of her dream still clinging to her like a shroud. Then, she sat up with a gasp, her eyes scanning the room frantically, as if searching for an escape from the terror that still lingered in her mind, waiting to pounce.

"What is going on ?" (Y/N) ask feeling alike an mad woman slowly descending into madness. In fear she didn't closed her eyes for moment, staring blankly at the ceiling or sometimes sketching a new art mindlessly to distract her disturbed mind.

In no time sun made it's presence known, offering bit of warmth to all and each even to (Y/N) who felt comfort to the golden rays before her ringtone took her attention. Answering the phone she greeted. "Good morning, Geto sensei".

"Good morning, (Y/N)-San, but could you please come to the university gallery ?" Hearing this a frown knitted her brows and she check her wrist watch. 5:00 am.

"So early if I may ask ?"

"Actually". He paused as if unsure what to speak "Please it's urgent". Understanding the hastily tone she agreed, doing a brief wash and clothes change she went to the location asked and oh dear, (Y/N) wasn't expecting the overwhelming amount of crowd standing outside her art gallery. Spotting her teacher she stood nearby.

"Sir, what's going on ?" Her (E/C) eyes dart from the crowd to her teacher.

"Well". Sheepishly the teacher tilted his head. "They came to see your sculpture". Earning a loud grasp from her.

"T-They ? You mean all ?" She stutter.

"All". Geto smiled nervously as if he finding his own words strange.

"So early in the morning and so many ?" Geto nod again.

"What in the world..." (Y/N) tailed off unable to comprehend the situation of what's going on, yes, she admits herself this particular art is special, a living masterpiece basically yet the amount of spotlight seems unnecessary, uncomfortable and— her thoughts went back to the nightmare she woke up— and strange.

"So, (Y/N) please guide the people. I have no choice but to let them in, you know". His smile strained and the girl knew there was not much say she has so she nod wordlessly standing in front of the glass door, a wall between the people and her. The glass door slid open with a soft whoosh, unleashing a torrent of humanity into the gallery. Hundreds of people poured in, their faces alight with excitement, smiles, and eagerness. The air was electric with anticipation, a palpable sense of wonder that was almost tangible.

(Y/N) stood at the forefront, a forced smile plastered on her face as she greeted the throngs of visitors. She waved her hand graciously, guiding them towards her sculpture, the centerpiece of the exhibition. Her eyes darted back and forth, her mind racing with a growing sense of unease and she stood before her creation, a strange, unsettling feeling washed over her. She couldn't bring herself to look at her own creation, her gaze skittering away like a frightened animal. The sculpture, once her pride and joy, now seemed to loom over her, its presence oppressive and menacing.

(Y/N)'s smile faltered, her lips trembling ever so slightly. She felt like a puppeteer whose strings had been cut, her control over the situation slipping away. The crowd's excitement and admiration only added to her growing sense of discomfort, their eagerness to behold her creation now feeling like a suffocating weight. With a Herculean effort, (Y/N) raised her eyes, her gaze finally meeting the sculpture's serene, enigmatic face. Rather of pride, she felt a shiver run down her spine, as if she was staring into the abyss itself despite his face turned to the other side.

"Miss (L/N), with what thought you created this masterpiece ?" A young woman asked within the mist of people.

"Masterpiece ?" (Y/N) mutter under her breath tasting a bitterness. "Well, it came naturally". She replied smiling and staring at the woman's eyes.

"Amazing !" One of them compliment.

"Then Miss (L/N), had you thought the model will be this viral ?" A young man this time asked.

"Never". She answered holding her tremble.

"Then, what motivate you to create such man ? Is he a real man or a part of your imagination ?" Another asked who's face (Y/N) unable to see.

"As the rules of competition. All of the participators had to bring their imagination out into the clay so did I". Calm her voice and confident her (E/C) eyes.

"So Miss (L/N) how long did it take to make you ?"

"Miss (L/N) were you always inspired to make someone of it ?"

"Miss (L/N) are you aware of the name we call you ? The deity ?"

"Miss (L/N), any hint of inspiration in process of making him ?"

One after another the questions jumped from one man to another to another that (Y/N) lips didn't had the time to even open eventually the cacophony of voices and laughter merging into a distant, muffled din. The room began to spin, and she felt herself becoming detached, as if floating above the chaos. The excitement and admiration of the crowd now seemed like a distant hum, a buzzing in her ears that threatened to consume her. With a sense of morbid curiosity, (Y/N) dared to glance at her sculpture, the root of all the chaos. Her heart raced and from the tail of her eyes locking onto its serene, enigmatic face.

And then, she saw it. Or thought she saw it. His eyes, once mere clay and stone, seemed to flicker with life. They moved, ever so slightly, as if connecting with hers. The room froze, time standing still as (Y/N)'s heart sank like a stone.

She felt a chill run down her spine, her mind reeling in horror. It was impossible, yet she swore she saw it. The eyes, once lifeless, now seemed to hold a spark of consciousness, a glimmer of awareness that was not of this world.

(Y/N)'s breath caught in her throat, her voice trapped in a silent scream. She stumbled backward, her eyes fixed on the sculpture, her mind racing with the implications. The crowd's din returned, but she didn't hear it. She was lost in the abyss of her own terror, staring into the eyes of her creation, which now seemed to stare back.

"Miss (L/N) ?"

"Miss (L/N) ?"

"(Y/N) senpai ?" Snap ! (Y/N) looked at the familiar call of her best friend Yuji running towards her, holding her hand worried. "Are you alright ?" His voice ringed yet her care is about the sculpture, about the man !

Slowly she turn her head, finger point to his face only to blink twice and find the lifeless eyes as it belonged unlike the glimpse of terror she saw.

Confusion.

Betrayed.

Madness.

Alone.

Did no one saw that ? Did even she saw that ? But it's liveless right ? It's a mold of clay, a non-living thing yet why ? How ? What is going on ? (Y/N) mind spin threatening to burst any moment.

"Yuji, I-I am not okay". Her words stutter and she lean on his strength.

"Understood". Yuji sprang into action, bellowing at the crowd to part and make way unlike (Y/N) who couldn't process the commotion, her mind reeling like a maelstrom. She felt her grip on reality begin to slip, her thoughts spiraling into a vortex of doubt and terror. Was she truly seeing things, or was her own sanity unraveling? The world around her became a blur, as if she was trapped in a never-ending nightmare. Yuji's voice grew distant, a fading echo as (Y/N)'s consciousness teetered on the edge of collapse.

"High blood pressure, high stress level and sleep deprivation". Ieiri Shōko said, with a sigh looking at the chat. "It's a dangerous combination, (Y/N)-san that's why rest your body". Before glaring at her teacher Geto. "And you ! who even gave you the permission to be a teacher huh ? If you can't act like one ?" Her raspy voice and judgmental eyes send daggers in his way.

"I am sorry, (Y/N)-San, I didn't know I was creating pressure for you". Guilty written over his face as he ease his frown.

Megumi commented "Well, you as a teacher should know yourself". Right away avert his gaze to not meet his glare.

"It's alright. My fault. I should have voiced out my problem but I really think I need rest". Indeed (Y/N) felt the need to relax after seeing the movement never will she ever recover the horror her heart felt.

Nothingness. No hint of light, nothing at all. A silent void of nullity only suddenly, two glints of light materialized, like sapphires bursting forth from the shadows. The brightest blue she had ever seen, piercing and vivid, locked onto her. Eyes, hidden until now, stared directly into her soul. A whisper, a murmur, a voice she couldn't decipher, grew in intensity, swelling to a deafening crescendo. The words remained elusive, but the urgency was unmistakable. She strained to comprehend, her heart racing, until the sound shattered the darkness, jolting her awake with a silent scream, as if her own soul was being torn from her throat, leaving her gasping in terror, her breaths coming in ragged, desperate gulps, like a dying thing clawing its way back from the abyss.

"What was that ? I never saw those eyes—" She pause recalling the vivid eyes. "I didn't or did I ?" Oddly enough her mind went to her own sculpture. "His eyes, his lifeless eyes". Repeating the thought in her mind, She threw off the covers and got out of bed, her bare feet making barely a sound on the cold floor.

"It can't be". She hoped. "It shouldn't be, it must not be". Like a protection mantra she chanted it sprinting to the exhibition where her once masterpiece to nightmare stand on and she somehow unlock the door and run to stand in front of her model, Gojo Sataru in the darkness she was begin to spiral and to her denial the moon cast an eerie glow through the window, illuminating the sculpture's face. (Y/N) felt a shiver run down her spine as her (E/C) eyes bore into its eyes and saw nothing. No color, no sparkle, just emptiness like it should be. "Ha ! I knew it. It was another my imagination working too much". With a scoff she breath properly ignoring her intitution of feeling not being alone in this room so she walk away quietly yet quickly escaping from the burning empty eyes of the sculptures.

The night wore on, a sleepless vigil, as her fingers held the pencil scratched across the paper, trying to capture the haunting blue eyes that lingered in her mind. The memory of their piercing gaze refused to fade, fueling her creativity as she sketched into the wee hours. Just as the first light of dawn crept in, her friend arrived, bearing the missed class lessons and a gentle smile.

"Here, I am giving you all you need". Nobara pat her head, able to point out dark circles in her friend's eyes.

"Thank you a lot". Gratitude mingled with exhaustion and her hands accepted the offering, placing it in the wooden desk where her eyes caught the shining golden award she forget to keep somewhere else due to the chaos happening.

"By the way (Y/N) I also wanted you to know today your sculpture would be the model for beginner students to learn how to create the perfect body, arms and you know basics". Her hands move with the notion earning a smile over (Y/N)'s lips.

"Understood". She didn't, she didn't understood the meaning behind seeing the same art so many times anymore. Why can't people move on, go, see some other new, fresh and normal art unlike her strange, hauntingly beautiful one. That's when the curiosity to see the art awaken, for unknown reason she desperately wants to see or perhaps it was the promise of safety in numbers she asked to go along with her.

(Y/N) strolled hand in hand with Nobara towards the exhibition, the warm light danced across her skin, a comforting sensation she savored. "Let's go in". Reached the glass door Nobara said touch the doorhandle and about to open breaking the space between them when her (E/C) eyes dare peek through her lashes to the glass exterior and her her serenity, sanity shattered because for a fleeting instant, the hands of the stone seemed to twitch, fingers trembling, arms stiffening, like a macabre puppet springing to life. The horror of her nightmare resurfaced, threatening to consume her. Madness lurked, its dark tendrils creeping closer.

Averting her gaze, she felt her grip on reality falter once again. With shaking hands and a voice barely above a whisper, she stammered "I am sorry...I suddenly feel sick. I need to rest".

Without awaiting Nobara's response, she turned and fled, leaving the girl worried and tense, her eyes wide with concern as she called out however (Y/N) was already gone, vanished into the crowd, pursued by the demons of her own mind.

"This is happening again. It moved right in front of my eyes, in front of Nabora and others too !" Claps her palm to her mouth she tightly close her eyes, sitting on her bed and without a second thought opened the wooden drawer taking few pills of sleeping pills and drank in rapid speed.

"I need a dreamless sleep, I need a dreamless sleep". Repeating she lay on the cold fabric of bed and close her eyes.

Darkness enveloped her sight, a suffocating shroud that obscured all else And then, like specters emerging from the void, a pair of pale hands materialized before her. They glowed with an ethereal light, as if the darkness itself had taken on a life of its own. The hands, unmistakably male, reached out with an unsettling gentleness, his fingers tracing the contours of her body. (Y/N) felt a shiver run down her spine as the hands caressed her, his touch leaving her skin crawling with unease. She tried to recoil yet the palm tightly held her waist in it's root however she tried to move again that's when a low, velvety voice unfolded like a dark flower, its laughter echoing through the shadows like a predator's taunt along the blue eyes snapped open, blazing with an otherworldly intensity. Those cerulean orbs incinerated her defenses, laying bare her soul like a ravaged landscape despite clothes attached to her body.

"How cute you are trying to run away ?" His sinister voice carried like wind coming from behind to front or from nothing to assume.

Slowly his hands caress her visible neck, lacing with curiosity and desire. Tracing the curve of her side to the front from her chin to pausing at the collarbone unleashing a chill that seeped into her bones. Disgust and fear entwined, a toxic embrace that left her paralyzed, her heart a wild animal racing against her ribs and almost as if he could smell the fear those gleaming eyes smile into crescent moon and frosty fingers unbutton her night shirt one by one swelling tears in her eyes.

"No. Please. No. Please". She preyed to each and every god she knew the existence of, hoping to be saved by the creation she created by her own hands. Spared by the humiliation she might face by the monster and—Snap ! Her eyes jolt open to a world that is too bright, too loud. The screeching alarm pierced her eardrums, a forgotten relic of a previous night's routine. As she struggled to sit up, the harsh light overhead stabbed at her eyes, making her squint and shield her face with a groggy hand.

Tear drops silently land on her lap, soaking the fabric with her sorrows she experienced and unconsciously her hand went to her chest making her breath hitched because the two first buttons of her shirt is separated leaving her to wonder the line between her reality and nightmare erasing. "What is happening ? Why is this happening ?" Fingers dug inside her hair to the roots, only helpless questions is jumbled on her mind with unanswered and those question will remain more unanswered when increasingly she unmistakenly gets glimpse of the model and her blood run cold witnessing the torso seemed to twist, ever so slightly, like a snake slithering through grass and that very same night she is laying on her bed, inside her nothing of dream joined by the pair of hands, alive eyes, cold hard torse crawling above her warmth of skin exporling her body as if she belonged to him, violently the privacy (Y/N) wants to keep and when she teetered on the brink of death. The alarm clock screamed, shattering the spell, saving her at the same time lingering the terror.

The next time she didn't gave the chance her eyes could to see her sculpture anywhere from her phone, to her poster, she even avoiding going out frighten by the fact to see him coming alive however fate speaks otherwise accidentally letting her eyes meet the flicker of the monster named Gojo Sataru and finally along his legs twitched, its entire body began to stir, like a creature awakening from a centuries-long slumber. (Y/N) watched in pure horror, her mind reeling, as the once-inanimate object now moved with a sinister purpose. Feeling her own life force ebbing away, as if the sculpture's newfound vitality was draining her very existence and known echoed in her mind "This is the end. I'm staring death in the face."

Desperate to escape the terror from going to sleep, (Y/N) tried to distract herself. Fingers grabbed her sketchbook, but her pencils trembled in her hand, unable to capture the beauty of art amidst such evil however eyes moved to watched entertainment shows only to feel the laughter and music seemed hollow, a cruel mockery of her fear. Even old videos of her parents, once a source of comfort, now seemed distant, unable to shield her from the encroaching darkness waiting to pounch.

No matter what she did, her eyelids grew heavy, threatening to surrender to sleep despite the knowledge that if she succumbed to sleep, the sculpture would claim her. So she fought, hard and limit past her strength. She'd rather die awake, than let the darkness consume her.

Despite her valiant efforts, (Y/N)'s eyelids finally betrayed her, succumbing to the relentless pull of exhaustion and the last thing she saw was her mother smiling face holding her younger self's hand in the video.

This time when she faced the void of nothingness, she has complex layers of emotions piling one after another. Fear of what might bound to happen, confusion of why or how's this situation is even occurring to her so many times, regret of creating a monster she mistakenly did and little calm of at least knowing what's about to come in front yet she wasn't ready to face the tide like all ship captains are no matter how much they nagivate above the ocean, they fear bear fear and the darkness coalesced, swirling around itself like a vortex of ink, deepening into an abyssal void. It churned and eddied, alike creating a pathway for the entity that lurked beyond the shadows. The air seemed to thicken, heavy with anticipation, as the darkness parted like a curtain, revealing a glimpse of what lay beyond. Slowly, the entity began to take form, its presence unfolding, no longer just fragments of limbs or eyes, but its entire self, a being of unutterable horror, emerged from the shadows. The darkness swirled around it, a mad dance of tendrils, as if worshiping the monstrosity that now stood before (Y/N).

Gojo Saturu, her sculpture moving in flesh and form of an living human. A vision of devastating beauty that the viewers oh so desired. His lips in a perpetual smirk while his sapphire eyes look straight into his creator's soul.

"Hello, my creator". He mockingly greet, voice smooth flowing to (Y/N)'s ears. "Nice to meet ya". He giggle at the end as his own comment was funny. "I was oh so waiting to meet. Took so long". His long legs march forward to (Y/N) who is frozen, breathing hard to have her creation talk to her.

His face lean forward inching almost few inches apart to where her (E/C) could see his unblemished and smooth skin like she curved out of her fingers, well she bestowed him everything but flaw, a mistake on her part and a power to his. Deliberately his slender pale finger tips touch her cheek—her imperfect skin. She fully embraced to shiver by his coldness yet it was oddly warm causing her eyes wide filling questions in them.

He wordlessly smiled further, cupping her entire face on his both palm like one would to their deity. Thumps ever so slightly stroke her skin. "You must be dying to know the truth ? How I created ? Breath to live ?" His eyes flicker to hers. She choose to not say.

"Well, it's cause you, all because of you and those humans. Their hopes, admiration, wishes and your believe of me springing to live manifest into a unseen force, a force of blending your believes turning and fueling my life from mere stones. The moment you believed my eyes moved, my eyes spring into live, you believed my hands twitch it gave me life and slowly little by little you were all along bringing me life. My creator, my love. My eve of life". Stretching his lips ear to ear he close their distance, enveloping her lips.

Astonishing her and letting her limbs finally protest against the unwanted touch yet his hands larger, faster, stronger that held her both wrist in one palm, focusing solely on devouring her lips and wrapping tongue above one another, swirling like the taste of saliva and sucking breath out of her leaving her utterly surrender and vulnerable. (Y/N) suffocated by the soul draining kiss she kicked his any part only for him to remain unyielding and finally when he deem to be satisfied he seprated their lips with a glistening string of saliva linked and heavy breathing followed.

"Is this how it feels to need air ?" A husky laugh bubble out of his throat. "Then it's addicting". The sly smile stayed as he branded her skin with tender kisses, tracing a path of desire. The soft curve of her cheek, the tantalizing corner of her lips, the delicate slope of her chin, the whisper-soft lids of her eyes, and the gentle expanse of her forehead like marking her his.

"Stop. Stop all of this madness. Why are you doing this ? If you want to kill me then kill me already why torture me ?" Desperate her breath brush aganist his skin, fearful written on her eyes.

"Aww, there is a misunderstanding between us love, a grave one". He dramatically chuckle. "Why would I want to kill my own creator when you are the reason I even form an shape ? And torture ? Is this torture when I am soaking you in love. This is my passion for you. My burning desire for you". Yearning his brightest shade of eyes hold and rather of feeling moved all she felt was forced.

"But I do not want". Tears prickly down her eyes, watering her vision. "I really do not want this". She threw her head back, moving as her physical self can.

"It's okay. You do love me because if you don't then you wouldn't have created me so love me. Like you are suppose to. Bear the consequences of your actions, darling". Shushing her lips with his finger, he gently kiss the vulnerable curve of her neck and descend in downwards ignoring all of her pleads, protest and fight. Eventually his lips brush against her collarbone and ever so gently he suck the skin purple and red moving to the valley of her chest.

His free hand cup the breast through her dress ignited an fire and blood rush to his pants. Tearing her shirt scattering her buttons he came to face with her lovely bra, the only shield protecting against being bare yet he with ease snatch that away. Laying her upper body to feast by those eyes.

"Hmm" A groan slip past his lips from merely stare at those breast and the outline of her body with the way her blush expression, tears streaming, hands tied by his palm, hair spread beneath her was a divine sight than himself. Oh how he recall watching her from his stone form and yearn to touch those skin which he is now relishing.

Shamelessly his large palm cup her breast earning a sweet whimper and dive to taste if it's sweet as her lips and he was beyond ecstatic, twisting the bud as he please and sucking whole even biting with his canines enjoying the melody of her sobbing and her warmth skin. Before jumping to the another untouched one claiming his like it belonged and butterflies kisses on the entire breasts.

To lacing his tongue on her center of skin, tailing down and stopping at her stomach pecking each imperfect and perfect spots covering her whole. How couldn't he ? If he was served with a human like her, (Y/N) who is in his eyes the prettiest girl to even laid eyes on.

While she is on other end of hell, despising the kisses like an lava drops, burning with a fiery hatred that left her scarred. Every touch was a toxic assault, poisoning her senses and corroding her soul. His lips were venomous serpents, injecting deadly venom into her veins with each caress. His hands are acid, dripping with malice as they crawled across her skin. She couldn't and didn't felt a loving sense from him let alone love he was confessing about. Nightmare his life is.

And he knew about. Knew perfectly of her hatred, pain and still choose to love her because she does love him. She just doesn't know herself or he will make her. That's why he is mastering the very skill to pleasure her in ways a woman could be by ripping her only thread of cloth wrapped around her hip and fully nude her.

Viewing her lay bare, all nude couldn't conceal the heart crafting on Gojo's eyes and the madness smile heating his pale skin. Swiftly he dug his head in between of her legs, inside the clit his cum will enter. Well, for later because now his mouth was engulfed inside, tongue forcefully rip inside to taste the creamy fluids his love made of making her grasp and thrash around more harder than she could.

Even squirming underneath him only to prove fruitless while he continue to taste her juices, eating as if it's a delicacy itself, swallowing down and circling his tongue inside her tight walls, loving every bit of it however his patience comes to end making him pull out his flesh with dripping saliva and ran his fingers past his hair.

"P-Please. Please spare me. Please..." Her voices somewhere blended with her sobbed sorrows and her grasp when he impatiently without preparation unbuckle his restrictions, pulling out his shaft and pierce straight inside her walls.

Arching her back and cry out a scream she felt utter hopeless and pain coursing through her limbs. "It hurts ! I-it hurts". Dragging her air she wail. "It hurts please Gojo. It hurts". pricked at his name Gojo shush her more, whispering sweet nothings like an lover not a rapist he is and claim her lips once more. Even stealing her right to speak.

Heartlessly he slam his throbbing shaft again and again, groaning within the kiss and savouring the feeling. "Ah ! Is this what feels to have sex ? Because if it is then I would do it again and again". Tilting his head, Gojo separated his lips and eventually his hips came to stuttering as he cum inside without a care of world unlike (Y/N) who's heart rattled under her ribcage.

"No ! No ! No ! No ! No ! You monster ! What did you do ?" In disbelief she kicked her tireless legs and dug her nails on his soft skin. Anger filling her mind. "I can be pregnant !" She cried out.

"Really ?" Honestly he asked, laughing. "Then I should do it properly". With that the horrors repeated with his hips penetrate her clit deeper.

Her lips parted echoing her scream along her eyes snap open. Her body jolt up from her bed and gasping for air as if she'd been underwater for too long. Her chest heaved, and her eyes frantically scanned the familiar surroundings of her room. Her clothes clung to her damp skin, a testament to the terror she had endured. "Wai—I am wearing my clothes. Does that mean ?" As reality set in, a wave of relief washed over her—it was just a nightmare, a twisted episode of her own madness, nothing more. Smiling to herself she craved the comfort of her friends so with a sense of urgency, she rushed to their room, catching a glimpse of them at the exhibition hall. She burst in, smiling wider and navigated through the crowd. Her eyes locked onto Nabora, and she grasped her best friend's hand like a lifeline.

"Good morning (Y/N)". Cheerfully she greeted.

"Good morning to you too". She breathed. "I had a nightmare". Her voice confessed. "Believe me or not the worst one".

"What do you mean". Concern fill the girl's face and (Y/N)'s lips about to elaborate when a pair of hands— disgustingly familiar and unsettling— wrapped around her shoulders from behind. A low, husky voice whispered in her ear.

"A nightmare huh ?" Gojo's words dripped with an unsettling intimacy, his tone implying secrets shared and terrors unspoken washing cold bucket of water over her head.

How ?

What ?

Impossible ?

"Right ! Gojo senpai, help your girlfriend ! She is in need of your help". Nobara spoke in an familiar tone to which he replied "of course".

"B-Boyfriend ?" Her words stutter.

"Oh ! Sorry not boyfriend. Fiancé !" She facepalmed herself laughing. Alone. Not with (Y/N) who's questions and terrors trapped in the vice of his embrace.

Leaning closely Gojo tucked her shirt a little making her aware of the intimacy marks she was blind to miss and whispered the bitter truth. "I have become the god of the chisel".

FIN

[thatoneweirddreamer]

The Media Demon: Plans

[Note: I cannot believe I am doing this. This is the second part of the Media Demon au by @that-hazbin and a continuation to The Media Demon: Regress]

Part 1

Alastor is pacing back and forth in some dingy alleyway near his crash landing into Hell. He needs to get his shit together and plan for the future from here on out because there is no way in the seven rings of Hell he will ever allow the future to go down the same path as it had done before. Why? Because he made a lot of mistakes that need to be corrected, he will stay in power this time! Because his sweet little Faon needs him, he will not allow her dreams to go down the drain all because the Royal Family won't support her.

Letting the Vees gain any type of hold in Hell was a mistake except maybe Velvet, but he will need to think and sleep on it. Vox doesn't need to die, he just is no longer allowed to be anywhere near a position of power. Valentino, however, is on thin ice one toe out of line and Alastor will end him, Valentino disgusts him even more than sex does. He will eliminate Valentino from the competition and put Angel Dust as the head of the porn industry, he will do a better job than that damned moth, and he thinks it will be a wonderous retribution.

Alright, the plan so far is more of a guideline and will need to be improved as time goes on, but it's good enough for now. Regain your power and become an Overlord take control of all the media as a whole from radio to the internet and even the porn industries and improve hell in a way that will allow Mon Faon entertainment to thrive down here. After all, everyone takes pride in something he just needs to grab hold of it. But, first things first, power!

While soul contracts wouldn't be a bad idea, he will not allow himself to rely solely on them anymore. It was a mistake that led to him selling his soul, so this time he will be going back to his roots. Witchcraft, Voodoo whatever you'd call it. Just like how his mother and her family had taught him. The good news is that he knows where all the ingredients and materials are needed. Though, now that he thought about it, his mother told him of a myth about how once one died and practised Witchcraft or Voodoo when they were alive they would gain some sort of magic flowing through their veins and a grimoire that would fit their needs.... He'll need to check on that for now materials and ingredients and he'll need to do it fast!

[onlyonetifosi]

Dancing to win

It was a chilly evening in Monte Carlo as Y/N Leclerc, the youngest Leclerc sibling, prepared for the biggest performance of her dancing career. At just 18 years old, Y/N had already become a professional dancer, known for her graceful moves and captivating stage presence. Tonight, she would be competing in the prestigious Grand Prix Dance Championship, and her family and friends were there to support her. Standing backstage, her heart pounding with excitement and nerves. She was about to perform in the most prestigious dance competition of her career, and her family was there to support her.

In the front row of the elegant theater, Y/N's brothers, Lorenzo, Charles, and Arthur, sat anxiously, waiting for the performance to begin. The Leclerc matriarch, Pacale Leclerc, sat between Lorenzo and Charles, clutching their hands tightly.

While she's preparing backstage, unaware of what's happening outside, the three Leclerc brothers talk.

"I can't believe our little sister is all grown up and about to perform on such a grand stage" The oldest one, Lorenzo says proudly.

"She's always had a flair for the dramatic, just like me. But dancing? That's her own unique talent" Arthur jokes

As the curtains parted, Y/N stepped onto the stage, her elegant form gliding gracefully across the floor. The audience held their breath, mesmerized by her every move. The music swelled, and Y/N poured her heart and soul into her performance, weaving a captivating story through her choreography.

As the music played, Charles recognizes one of his piano compositions and get tears on his eyes because of the proud he feels that her sister chose that song for her special day.

"Vous saviez, n'est-ce pas ? Charles demande à sa mère "Elle me l'a dit parce qu'elle voulait te soutenir à sa manière", dit Pascale en souriant devant l'excitation de son deuxième fils (You knew didn't you? he asked her mother. "She told me because she wanted to support you in her own way," Pascale said, smiling at her middle son's excitement")

Y/N gracefully took the stage, her body moving in perfect sync with the rhythm. Her performance was a symphony of elegance and athleticism, capturing the hearts of everyone in the audience.

Lorenzo leaned over to Charles, whispering, "Isn't she incredible? She's like a swan on that stage."

"She sure is" Charles adds

Meanwhile, Arthur sat on the edge of his seat, his hands clasped together, silently rooting for Y/N's success. He had always been her biggest supporter, attending every performance he could.

Pierre Gasly, Max Verstappen, Carlos Sainz who had become close friends with YN during her numerous visits to the races, watched in awe.

Pierre whispers to Max" Look at her go! She's like a swan on the dance floor"

"YN's always had that natural grace. It's incredible to see her talent come to life like this" points out Max while grinning "You remember her in visiting Charles in karting? She had always knew what she did"

After an enthralling display of skill and emotion, the music faded, and the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she took a bow, feeling a rush of gratitude for the support surrounding her.

Backstage, her brothers rushed to embrace her, their smiles wide and their voices filled with excitement.

The first she realised is that she was enveloped in a warm embrace from Arthur, who held her tightly. "You did it, Y/N! You were incredible!"

Y/N grinned, her eyes sparkling with joy. "Thank you, Tur Tur. Your support means the world to me."

Charles and Lorenzo approached them, their smiles stretching from ear to ear. "Y/N, that was extraordinary!" Lorenzo exclaimed.

Charles nodded, his eyes fixed on his sister. "I'm lost of words, je t'aime beacoup"

"Je t'aime beacoup aussi Charlie" She hugs him happy that he liked the surprise.

Y/N blushed, feeling overwhelmed by their praise. "I couldn't have done it without your constant encouragement and belief in me. You're the best brothers a girl could ask for"

Kelly and her young daughter, Penelope, watched with wide eyes. Penelope tugged on Kelly's sleeve.

Penelope whispers to her mum "Mommy, YN dances like a princess! I want to be just like her when I grow up!"

Kelly laughs and smiles "She truly is amazing, isn't she? Maybe one day, you'll be a wonderful dancer too. Why don´t you go to tell her"

Penelope tugged at YN's hand, her eyes sparkling with wonder. "YN, you dance so beautifully! I want to learn how to dance like you!"

YN's heart melted at the innocence in Penelope's voice. She knelt down to her level, gently ruffling her hair. "Thank you, Penelope. You're such a sweet little girl. I'd be honored to teach you how to dance, and Kelly you can join us too if you both want, even Max" she says laughing at the dutchmans face

"For you to know I'm a fantastic dancer" he points out fake ofended

Kelly smiled warmly. "That would be wonderful, YN. Penelope has always admired your talent. She would love to learn from you."

Carlos Sainz, who had been observing the interaction, joined the conversation. "YN, you've always had an incredible passion for dance. It's inspiring to see you excel in your field."

YN beamed, grateful for the support of her racing family. "Thank you, Carlos. Your words mean a lot to me."

As the night wore on, the Leclerc family and their racing family celebrated Y/N's triumph. Amidst the laughter and joy, Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for the unwavering support of her brothers, her maman, and her extended racing family.

This was a night she would cherish forever—a night where speed and grace, racing and dance, came together in perfect harmony.

In the following days, YN kept her promise and organized a special dance session for Penelope and Kelly. They gathered in a dance studio, where YN led them through graceful movements and joyful expressions.

"Remember, dancing is about feeling the music and expressing yourself freely. Let it bring you joy." YN says to start.

As the music played, Penelope and Kelly followed YN's lead, their smiles growing wider with each step. The room filled with laughter and the sound of little feet twirling across the floor.

Kelly watched with joy as her daughter blossomed under YN's guidance. Soon after the little girl started competing in competitions of her age range under YN's gaze.

Later, while reflecting on the beautiful day, YN realized how fortunate she was to have such supportive brothers, friends, and a loving family. Their presence in her life had always pushed her to chase her dreams.

As she prepared for her next performance, YN couldn't help but feel a newfound confidence and determination. With her loved ones by her side, she knew she could conquer any stage, just as she had conquered their hearts.

And so, the Leclerc family continued to cheer on YN's journey, celebrating every step she took toward her dreams, knowing that she would always shine bright, both on and off the stage.

[anodetoswag]

ℭ𝔬𝔫𝔳𝔢𝔶𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 ℑ𝔫𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢

Synopsis: Starting beef in the morning bus because being a hater isn't a hobby, it's a lifestyle.

It's dumb. Cretinous, even. There is absolutely no logical excuse he has for playing chicken, let alone with someone he doesn't even know. But the undeniable truth of the matter is that he's a petty, petty man and this competition satiates some deep rooted depravity in his soul.

Yesterday he'd come in an hour early just to see you standing there even before him. Of course, he'd mentally raged up a storm even though all you were spared was a stink eye. He could practically feel your smugness as if it were a tangible thing he dreamt about taking into the palms of his hand and crushing into bits before feeding it to the pigeons in the park .

He'd sworn vengeance upon you, your bloodline, your neighbor and your neighbor's mailbox. Being a man of action, he had every intention to complete this quest today. So, he woke up at five in the morning, just to be here two hours earlier than he had to be. The sight of the empty bus stand fills him with an inexplicable sense of jubilation. Sure, it earned more than a few odd looks from occasional jogger taking this route since the first bus came hours later but the high of his victory combined with his inability to give a fuck were enough to not let that affect him whatsoever.

He waits and waits and then waits some more but there's no sign of you. Finally ,he sees the bus coming from up ahead and concludes the humiliation of your defeat once you spotted him there from a distance must have been too great for you to bear. So you took back to home.

Climbing up the steps, his eyes naturally fall on the seat that he always occupies. The feeling of elation sublimates into nothingness the moment he catches sight of you in it.

The one next to you is empty so naturally, he marches over and begins fuming silently. You don't notice him, too occupied with something on your phone.

"How come you weren't at the station but you're on the bus?"

Your eyes snap over to him, looking momentarily displeased at being pulled out of the early morning brain rot of your choice.

"You don't take the bus on Saturdays."

He scowls. Not only did you not answer his question, you even pointed out something you have no business knowing.

"And you know that because," he asks, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

This earns a roll of your eyes before you turn to look at the scenery outside. What better way to start the day but by looking at concrete jungles representing state of the art capitalism and classism?

The bus slows down after a few minutes and he stands up, earning an odd look from you.

"Don't you have a few more stops to go?"

Your question earns another look. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've been stalking me." 

“I’m just observant.” 

He looks unconvinced but his stop is already here and he’d rather not miss today. So he turns to walk over to the door but not before the confession falls out of his lips. “This is my stop. I just sat longer so I could stay in that seat. Besides, it’s good cardio to walk a little.” He’s gone before you can ridicule him.

Secretly, you can’t help but be a little impressed by the sheer spite the universe has stuffed in this stranger's being . The next time you see him, maybe you’ll let him in on your own secret. After all, you’d been walking a stop further from your own at an ungodly hour just to keep this senseless enmity going. 

BLLK: Kaiser, Raichi

BNHA: Bakugou, Monoma

Haikyuu: Tsukishima, Kageyama

First divider credit to @bernardsbendystraws. Can't remember where I got the second one. If anyone knows, hmu and I'll give credit.

[pinazee]

American Duos

It is really hard not to gif this whole episode!

First of all, the era of the soul patch is upon us haha

let’s not forget Chief Vick put Nigel St. Nigel in his place. She a bad bitch and i stan her.

How incredible is it that they got Tim Curry, and his character is ICONIC. He is the godfather of the blueberry. (Here’s Nigel St. Nigel with the real real.)

James and Dulé are having so much fun, you love to see it! Also, i like to think Shawn was purposely being bad because he knew Nigel St. Nigel would have to push him through no matter what and wanted to see him squirm. Gus genuinely tried haha

Juliet was so adorable in this episode. We learn quite a bit about her- how competitive she is, that she was kicked out of cheerleading camp, and idk if they meant to plant this seed or not, but we learn that she does not like liars (shawn).

Gina Gershon fucking killed this role! She uttered every line with such perfection, i was really rooting for her character. Im glad she wasn’t killed. I actually kind of wish she could have come back as more of a love interest for lassie, after she’s cleaned herself up some. He comes to like her honesty and spontaneity, she loves his overprotective nature and the gooey center hidden beneath his hardened exterior. She could then go off to have a redeemed career and they’d part ways. (P.S that slap!!! Ahhahaha!)

this was definitely a competition between james and corbin to see who could get the closest to the other in the scene without touching. Who talks like this?? Lol

I need someone to explain what is going on in Shawns (or james’) brain here. Lemme just put baby in a corner here

P.S I want to know who this audience member was, giving 1000%, so i can send him flowers, or candy.

[annetdragony]

Headcanon as a Mirror of the Soul: Why There Is No “Single Truth” in the Story of Astarion and Tav

There is no universal truth in the world of Baldur’s Gate 3 — there are millions of worlds born in the imagination of players. Each headcanon is not just a choice of a plot line. It is a deeply personal dialogue with oneself, where through the story of Astarion and Tav, a person explores their fears, dreams, and the unobvious sides of their psyche.

“My Astarion, My Rules”: Headcanon as a Way to Understand Yourself

Headcanon is not a set of lines from the game. It is:

- Projection of internal conflicts. For example, a player who has experienced betrayal can “force” Astarion to give up revenge and ascension in order to symbolically heal his own pain.

- Experiment with power and vulnerability. The cruel Tav, dominating the Ascended Astarion, can reflect the player’s desire to control what seems chaotic in reality.

- Exploring kinks and taboos. BDSM dynamics, roleplaying, or platonic bonding are all safe ways to live out what scares or attracts in reality.

Example: A player who is afraid to trust can create a canon where Tav and Astarion learn to trust through a series of betrayals and apologies. This is not just fan fiction - it's therapy.

"You have your pain, I have mine": why all headcanons are valid.

For one, Astarion is a victim deserving of protection. For another, he is a predator that needs to be tamed. And that's okay.

Working with trauma requires different strategies. Some heal by seeing Astarion kill Cazador and remain a spawn, accepting his "role." Some - by watching him tear him apart in the Ascension ritual, gaining strength.

Kinks are the language of the unconscious. The desire to see Astarion as submissive or dominant may be the brain's attempt to "rewrite" a traumatic experience through metaphor.

Important: Even if someone's canon seems toxic to you, it may be the author's only way to cope with reality. As Jung wrote: "The shadow becomes smaller when it is illuminated.”

D&D: A Field for Safe Madness.

Role-playing games are a space without consequences, where you can:

- Try on the role of an abuser or a savior to understand where the roots of these patterns grow.

- See how your decisions affect others (even pixelated characters).

- Learn to say “stop” — because in a game, unlike in life, there is always a save button.

Example: A player who is afraid of conflicts in real life can create a headcanon where Tav harshly confronts Astarion — and thus trains the skill of defending boundaries.

Important: this applies to solo role-playing games. In live-action role-playing games with other players, it is recommended to discuss boundaries with other players so that there are no scandals and grievances later.

“Don’t judge my headcanon — and I won’t judge yours”: How accepting others helps you accept yourself.

Fan wars around Astarion often arise from the fear: "If their truth is true, then mine is a lie." But headcanon is not a competition. It is:

- A reminder that people are complicated. Some see Astarion as a justification for their revenge, others - a hope for redemption.

- A chance to learn empathy. Even if someone's canon causes rejection, there may be pain behind it that you do not see.

How it works in reality: By accepting that another Tav loves differently and chooses a different path, we learn to accept that our neighbor, colleague or relative lives by rules that we do not understand.

Conclusion: Headcanon as a bridge to yourself and others.

The story of Astarion and Tav is an endless kaleidoscope, where every turn reveals a new facet. There are no “bad” or “good” headcanons — there are people who use them to search for answers to questions they can’t even always formulate.

“Tell me what your Astarion is like — and I’ll tell you what you’re keeping silent about,” a psychologist might say. But we don’t need diagnoses. We need curiosity. Curiosity about other people’s stories, about our own motives, about how one vampire from the game can become the key to dozens of real souls.

D&D teaches: fantasy is not an escape from reality. It’s a way to understand it more deeply.

And your headcanon is you. And it’s beautiful. Even if it doesn’t have a happy ending.

P.S. You still have the right to avoid those headcanons that hurt you. But trying to understand why exactly it hurts you won’t hurt either. That way, you’ll learn more about yourself.

[worldume]

do u have any Banjo thoughts? there’s something about the look he had on his face right before he jumped off that bridge. The possibilities of his freakdom r endless me thinks.

about banjo….

banjo is definitely one of the characters in wdbr that i absolutely just want to sit and pick his brain. here’s a summary of my thoughts hc style! i’m on chapter 133!

i’m almost certain he has has some deeply rooted trauma and issues he yet to accept and work through.

i definitely think he has mommy issues— but really it could have been any important adult in his life growing up. evidently, someone wasn’t there for him in a way that a child needs. his trauma his both mental and physical.

just the fact that physical pain equates to love in his head is enough to confirm that for me. banjo is a deeply troubled soul and really needs someone to rewire his mind. but i think his fight with hiragi was the start.

in a relationship, banjo is a yandere or something pretty close to it.. he doesn’t like competition or the possibility of a threat— the thought of someone else having you, stealing you away from him will make him genuinely murderous. but that’s a whole other thing to get into— i’ll have you all here all day.

his darling would absolutely be the light of his world and he’d care the most about what you think. i can see him asking if you like certain things about him— like if he gets a new shirt or maybe he tries a new hairstyle. he’s always asking for reassurance from you. even asking if you think his food order was a good idea or should he have gone with what you got. a simple: “you’re fine, baby. i think you made a good choice.” will ease any worry in his head.

there had to have been something about you to really strike him.. and not to get all killing stalking in here but.. maybe your looks reminded you of his mom— or someone very important to him. or maybe when he was still apart of bofurin, you were the first person to actually be nice to him in a way he has never experienced before and from then it only fueled his fire. a crush that turned into more of an unhealthy obsession.

when you’re mad at him, it feels like the end of the world to banjo. it will genuinely tweak out.. and beg. beg you to “fight” him because at least then he’ll be able to feel something. “hit me— hit me, please! i won’t hit you back—! just please do something!” while he’s clawing at his face.

in the bedroom, he’s naturally into sadomasochism. choking, slapping— biting until there’s blood drawn, its all his favorite. he’s begging for more when you’re riding him and your hands are clasping so snug around his neck that he’s turning red. he doesn’t know his limit and you often have to bring him back down to earth.

DONT SHOOT! but i do think someone more suited towards him is someone who is or can be a dominant in his life. i’ll even give leeway to a switch who leans sub, but unfortunately i can’t see him ending up with a true submissive.

he has a prince albert. i will not be getting into it.

a/n: this is a very messy outline of my thoughts and i really could get into a deep dive psycho analysis of this guy but for all of our sanities, i’ll keep it tame for now because it will get dark very FAST with kanon.

blurb requests are open! — 🛒

[chaifootsteps]

There are a plethora of issues regarding Vivziepop's writing, but the one that really stands out to me is her lack of themes. She has ideas, occasionally she has something to say, but she has no themes.

If you don't mind my ramblings; I have been considering an AU that is effectively divorced from the series, focusing entirely on the characters Blitzo, Barbie, and Fizzarolli. In brainstorming the story, I have been able to streamline the narrative to 3 core themes.

Masculinity, Control/Power, and Belonging.

Everything in the story is connected to one or more of these themes in regards to the characters and their motivations. Even side characters are wholly infused with these three concepts.

In my AU, FizzaRolli is not a performer, but a stray child with a group of other feral children Lord of the Flies. Blitz is the son of a circus owner who craves his father's approval even as he resents him. Barbie is an up and coming starlet brutally managed by her father who effectively curates her sense of identity as she creeps closer to the spotlight.

Much of Blitzo's story focuses on a young man coming into his own in a world that runs on toxic masculinity, balanced out by the guidance and love of his sickly mother whom he cares for. He's a young adult figuring out himself in a world and community who keeps telling him what he should be. Sub Themes of responsibility, respect, strength and the abuse of power are key cornerstones of his story.

Meanwhile FizzaRolli is the foil of Blitz's story. An orphan without parental guidance living out his coming of age in a Teenage Wasteland. Additionally, Fizz is gay, meaning his queerness colors over the themes in a fundamental way. Being in a Teenage Wasteland, Fizz is effectively in the closet because of how queerness can change others perception of him. And weakness often is associated with queerness, which has no place in a micro-society that elevates this toxic, Fight Club-esque concept of masculinity and belonging. Fizz seems to belong, carve out a space for himself in his community, but struggles come into himself. Especially because underneath it all is a severely traumatized child who never got to be a kid long enough to learn how to be a man.

And from the far other side, Barbie's relationship to these themes comes from the viewpoint of living under the patriarchy as a young woman. How girls are raised to cater to the needs of men, treated as glorified children unless they "prove" themselves over things that many men are merely handed. Her father prioritized her career above and beyond her as a person. While that isn't a trait inherently based in sexism, how he curates her life and downplays her desires and intelligence is rooted mainly in her being his daughter and thus not expected to "step out" into her own like her twin. Leaving her feeling impotent, infantalized and resentful even as she is held on a pedestal.

Control over one's self, perception, and direction.

How masculinity fosters respect and responsibility for young boys while simultaneously threatening punishment for not meeting or stepping outside of certain expectations. Especially the competitive aggression and emotional warfare in toxic masculinity

And a sense of belonging, be it in a community or an identity.

Themes help maintain a cohesion to a story, helps the characters feel interconnected and the world lived in regardless of how much emphasis is placed outside the main cast. It also helps ground the ideas of characters in an abstract way that doesn't place pressure to "prove" to the audience a character does fit the traits you as an author see in them. Most of all, it better enabled the author to pivot viewpoints and easily switch between characters so that they feel individual and not that there is a singular "voice" speaking behind them. It creates a unique soul rather than an empty skin suit for the author to don.

Sorry for the long rant.

No worries, Anon. Thanks for the ramble, it was an interesting read!

[jovenshires]

wait smosh taskmaster would be SUCH a massive slay wow. immediately my mind went to shayne as alex horne ! but greg i could see as diff options bc i don’t think any cast members embody that archetype personality wise as is but i could def see them put their own spins on em as a character if that makes sense ? would love to see what damien or chanse could come up with (bonus pts for being tall). but i also just realized arasha would be good too lmaoo. OH and that tommy as greg and spencer as alex would be SO good. and then for contestants would love to have angela, two that don’t end up in the above roles, keith, and than a rando crew member that we don’t see that often to shake it up - maybe vida bc they killed it in tntl and they do improv? wait also loved patrick making a reappearance so him as well. obvi would love to see most of the cast /crew participate as contestants if it’s like a recurring series ! ok clearly this show is perf for smosh considering i included a bajillion people in this ask pls kiana i’m begging 🙏 - spencersagnew

@spencersagnew YOU. YOU GET ME. i love your takes,,,, shayne as alex and arasha as greg specifically is everything to me. i'll put my cast out there but your takes are incredible and you've never been wrong.

tommy as the taskmaster. i think he just has that dry humor and can lean into the antagonistic nature really well while still being a fair judge and interacting well with the contestants. he's also just one of my favorite hosts of anything ever so ill let him do whatever he wants

garrett as the taskmaster's assistant. LISTEN. LISTEN. we need someone pathetic. someone who can be a punching bag. someone who's a little unhinged. someone who will get bullied by the cast and just take it, but also someone who has the Audacity. and That's Garrett. he fits the bill. i'll say honorable mention to shayne bc i think he would do this really well too but there's something about garrett that i think people would just take to using him as a puppet, a prop, whatever they needed for their tasks. and then get shit from him as soon as they're in the studio.

ian as contestant number one (The Grumpy Old Man). look, i have the taskmaster casting system boiled down to a science. i truly believe almost every cast can fit into these categories (almost! almost all!) and so i'm going by the same metric for smoshmaster. and we're starting off strong with the grumpy old man archetype. i think he'll be generally annoyed by everything. tommy, garrett, the other contestants, the tasks, whatever. he has a really dry sense of humor that'll balance everybody else out, and an above-it-all attitude that you can't help but respect. examples of this include julian clary, frankie boyle, and dara o briain.

angela as contestant number two (The World's Strangest Woman). every season needs one woman who just goes about the tasks in The Most Insane Way, and that's angela. point blank period. is she gonna win? probably not! but who knows! she's a wild card! she's the one who says her legs are basically just arms without fingers, you know. i think she'd just panic and do. whatever. no planning, go with her gut instinct. she'd also be super competitive and her reactions when she realized just how bad she fucked up.... incredible. examples include lucy beaumont, jenny eclair, and fern brady.

spencer as contestant number three (The Loveable Goofball). look. LOOK. you know him. you love him. he probably won't win. but god is it fun to watch. he's generally kind of pathetic, and while he fails miserably, you can't help but root for him, feel bad for him, and point and laugh at him all at once. he's going about the tasks either half-heartedly or putting his whole soul into it with absolutely no in-between. he might win an episode, but it's because the edit is throwing him a bone. spencer's really good at putting on that character of. miserable dude. the heel of it all. but also balancing that out with his quick wit and intelligence. he's perfect for this. some examples are susan wokoma, ivo graham, and john kearns

chanse as contestant number four (The Fan Favorite). he's hot. he's smart. he's funny. everybody likes him. he is the People's Champion. everyone wants him to win - even the taskmaster is a Little biased. he has electric chemistry with everyone, somehow, you can't really figure out how. he absolutely kills ALL the tasks but especially the prize tasks. i also think chanse would just have the funniest reactions to what everyone Else is doing. like i think he'd stand by what he did until the bitter end (even if he did something fucking insane) but everyone else he would relentlessly make fun of. god i want him on this show so bad. anyway, my examples for this are sam campbell, kiell smith-bynoe, and munya chawawa.

courtney as contestant number five (The Only Competent One on the Board). everyone else is fucking insane, but courtney is holding down the fort. she's always handling the tasks in a smart, efficient way that seems like the most logical way to go about it. they frequently outsmart the prompts and the competition. whether or not they win it all, they just seem like they deserve it most. her humor also brings a really nice balance of riding that line of silly goofy and smart and quick. i think courtney rounds out this cast really well (and is my personal pick to win <3). examples of this are sue perkins, mae martin, and sarah milican.

im flexible on the teams, although i think my personal pick is spencer / courtney / angela and ian / chanse bc. comedy to me. also i will say i think i could go on for like. at least two more seasons building different casts truly this is not the Only combo. anyway kiana call me i've got big plans

[chatgptwritesfanfiction]

Shattered Reflections

The gymnasium was filled with the fervent cheers of basketball fans, echoing off the walls as the match between Kaijō High and their fierce rivals intensified. Among the spectators, you stood on the edge of the court, watching the game unfold with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

Kise Ryouta, the star player of the Kaijō basketball team, dazzled with his skillful moves and charismatic presence on the court. His charismatic aura drew people in, leaving them in awe of his talent. You, too, found yourself captivated by his prowess, an unspoken admiration blossoming within your heart.

As the game reached its climax, the tension in the air was palpable. Each possession and every shot held the weight of victory or defeat. But amidst the heat of competition, a different kind of battle waged within you—a storm of emotions you struggled to contain.

The final buzzer sounded, and the game ended with Kaijō emerging victorious. The deafening roar of the crowd celebrated their triumph, yet amidst the jubilant chaos, tears welled up in your eyes. It was a peculiar mix of happiness, relief, and an overwhelming surge of emotions that threatened to consume you.

Unbeknownst to you, Kise had noticed your tears from the corner of his eye. Concern etched across his face, he made his way through the jubilant crowd, his determination unwavering. He reached your side, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine worry.

You blinked back tears, struggling to find words to explain the torrent of emotions coursing through your veins. "I… I don't know. It's just… It's overwhelming, Kise. Seeing you give it your all out there, the intensity of the game… It got to me."

Kise's expression softened, a hint of understanding in his eyes. He pulled you into a comforting embrace, his presence a balm for your turbulent emotions. "I understand," he murmured. "Sometimes, the pressure and intensity can become too much. It's okay to let it out, to feel."

In that moment, the floodgates of your emotions opened, and tears streamed down your cheeks. It wasn't just the game that moved you; it was the journey, the sacrifices, and the resilience of the players that resonated deep within your soul.

Kise held you tight, his embrace grounding you amidst the chaos of the world. His steady heartbeat became a soothing rhythm, a reminder that vulnerability and tears were not signs of weakness but of the profound connection forged through shared experiences.

As the tears subsided, Kise released his hold, a soft smile gracing his features. "You know," he said, his voice gentle, "basketball isn't just about the game itself. It's about the emotions, the passion, and the bonds we create. And in this moment, I feel closer to you than ever."

You nodded, a newfound appreciation for the depth of your connection with Kise taking root within your heart. His words resonated, reminding you that vulnerability and tears could strengthen the bonds between two people.

From that day forward, as you watched Kise shine on the basketball court, you no longer held back your tears. Each drop became a testament to the shared triumphs and struggles, the unspoken emotions that weaved a tapestry of connection.

In the realm of basketball and tears, where vulnerabilities were embraced and bonds were forged, you and Kise found solace. And in that shared vulnerability, your admiration for him transformed into a profound love—a love that thrived not only in moments of victory but in the tears shed along the way.

a/n: this one is embarrassing on y/n's part. love the comfort though. might try this one again with aomine because i like him more than kise.

[stacythefreak]

I love Disventure Camp and how it creates unpredictable plot twists! I have NO idea who will be eliminated in next episodes. I just want all this drama.

I hope my theory about 3 finalists is not just a stupid random thing.

So... let me introduce them...

Grett - Jake - Connor

The modest antagonist VS The hero VS The cool guy

I also think about Alec as a finalist, but I suppose that he will be the 4th. Again. The curse of number 4, huh? Or maybe my perky intuition? Who knows.

GRETT

After episodes 13 and 14 I do want Grett to win! This girl deserves EVERYTHING. 🤩

Her parents don't notice her success preferring her brother to her. Grett also mentioned in S1 that the winning is the only thing that will make her parents proud of her. I suggest she may have overcome this in between seasons, but... let be honest, the childhood traumas are forever with people unless they will be overcome.

Grett had very toxic relationships (= total mess) with Yul (and we still hate him for this so much). No one deserves this type of partner. The breaking-up and the relief surely inspire her to be more competent and sassy like she was in S1 (and episode 15 trailer proves it). I also suggest she had some bad love experience in past too, she lacks of experience in romantic things.

Grett's makeover in-between season is ICONIC. I was so surprised when I saw her personal poster. I understand her so much (I did the same at 17-19): loss of weight is not so simple as it seems to be. She will be okay, more than okay, she is gorgeous.

Grett is the least obsessed antagonist of the final 8. She prefers to become friends with Gabby, save her own psycho and soul after all this mess with Yul, pass all the time actively as much as possible. She just does her job - being a rather strong and competitive.

JAKE

Me watching the first 10 episodes: What the hell are you doing?! Me watching the next episodes: YES, GO, JAKE, GO!

Yes, Jake has the most chaotic character development in the series. Sometimes he acts like a mess, a walking cringe or a biggest red flag. But I do like how he is changing. He struggles with himself and, thanks god, he is not an evil person. He is just very confused and traumatized person.

Jake already lost in S1 because of his behaviour. Now, when he begins to use his brain and to communicate with really cool and caring people (who give him very useful advice and inspire him so much), he has more chances to become the finalist. Miriam (this woman is so pure, I love her so much), Ashley (the oldest caring sister energy, she is brilliant), Aiden (he is more than iconic, that's all I want to say) - their influence on him is evident. I also suggest he could spread his money with friends and lover.

The last conversation between Jake and Tom definitely motivates him to win. No matter if he wins or not, he gets the desirable. I don't know how it will happen, I'm just sure! Minus one love drama, plus one finally happy couple.

It will be very curious to see how Jake overcome the obstacles himself. He is more team player, not loner wolf. But in the final and the episodes before it he should be ready to show all his talents and bravery. With his positive character development I can say he will do it.

CONNOR

From the ordinary character in S2 to one of the best one! No more words. He is flourishing in All-Stars! And I root for him!

Being one of the most sane person of the bunch of problem young adults - this is the true image of Connor. He doesn't understands the modern people and the modern culture, but he tries to. He is very supportive and kind to everyone (his speech to heroes alliance was very helpful and inspiring; he doesn't want to revenge or do something bad with Riya or Alec after all that crazy stuff, etc.). After revealing his secret to Jake in episode 14, it doesn't make him bad. Everyone has their own secrets and everyone makes mistakes. And Connor can take an effort in further episodes.

Earlier Connor inspires his friends. And now he will be inspired by them. It's more than real.

Quick reminder. This guy was eliminated and returned back after overcoming all the obstacles of the challenge. Does Connor give up easily? Of course, no. He is as disciplined and motivated as relaxed and chill. And in case of winning he will be the first person who takes the prize as being eliminated earlier. Just like Surfers in Ridonculous Race.

Connor is the least obsessed of winning money. And it may help him to win. In case of winning he seems to share some money with his friends (or everyone!). I don't think that money is important for him. And it's really cool. What a gorgeous man.

So... that's all, folks! :)

[hsmtmtsnet]

HSMTMTS CAST Q&A with J-14

J-14: What are you most excited for fans to see this season? DARA RENEE: I am most excited for the supporters to see Kourtney’s journey through senior year! Not only has her fashion sense skyrocketed, but her stage presence and comedy is on another level! FRANKIE A. RODRIGUEZ: We got some OGs from the High School Musical universe! Seeing them all together is really exciting. SOFIA WYLIE: The new characters, the returning original cast members and the new musical performances! JULIA LESTER: We really go back to our roots this season with all of the friends that return. I think every season just gets more meta as the show goes on, and this season does, for sure. It's like we have broken the metaverse!

J-14: How do you think your character has changed most since season one?

DR: Kourtney Greene has changed drastically throughout the seasons. From starting on the sidelines, to now stepping into the spotlight has been such an extraordinary experience! Seeing Kourtney inspire others by owning her power has warmed my heart and soul to the highest degree! FAR: When we first met Carlos, he was more comfortable being an assistant to Miss Jenn and blending into the sidelines. Over the course of the last few seasons he's really stepped into his star power. SW: I think Gina has changed tremendously from season one to season four! She definitely entered East High with a very strong, powerful and competitive energy. Now, I think she's able to be more vulnerable and show the softer sides of herself. JL: I think the biggest change was Ashlyn's queer storyline that develops during season three. And, as a queer person myself, once you have your coming out moment, the world opens up for you. So, I'm really excited for people to see where she is in season four, and how she's coming back off of this incredible summer camp experience where she learned so much about herself.

J-14: We're so sad to say goodbye to these characters! What will you miss most about being a part of this show? DR: I'lI miss being able to hang out with the cast and crew every day. They truly have become family and I'm so grateful to know such extraordinary people. Also, being a theater kid, I'll miss putting on some of my favorite shows, because that was truly a dream come true! FAR: The people! We have so many amazing people who help bring the show to life - both on screen and off. I'll miss going to work every day and laughing with some of the funniest people I've ever met. SW: I've met some of my closest and most cherished friends in this cast. Getting to see them every day was such a privilege that I know will be looked back upon so fondly. I also have loved exploring the character of Gina and I'll miss her a lot. JL: Truly, behind the scenes, they're my favorite people in the world and we have the most incredible time together. I will definitely miss working with them a lot.

J-14: If you had to pick one musical number that was the most meanIngful to you out of all four seasons, which one would it be and why? DR: It's actually a three-way tie! "Born To Be Brave" was the first song that I ever sang for the show, and the lyrics have stuck with me to this day. I also got to sing it with one of my favorite queens, Olivia Rodrigo. "Here I Come" was my first-ever original song that I wrote for the show - it talks about my experience with anxiety and being a perfectionist. Number three is a song that has not been heard yet from season four, but has motivated me to jump into new waters and explore new adventures! FAR: "Born To Be Brave" from season one really stands out to me. I really loved everything about that moment: The message, the story and how it all came together. SW: Getting to perform "Were All in This Together" in season one was a "pinch me" moment, for sure. Oh, and I know this is two, but I loved getting to perform "A Different Way to Dance" with Corbin Bleu. The whole time we were filming l just wanted to cry tears of pure joy. JL: "Be Our Guest." Ashlyn as Belle was such a huge thing for her and such a huge thing for me. Also, "1-2-3" from season two.Getting to be in a girl group with Dara and Sofia was, like, top five best moments of my whole life.

J-14: If all the characters returned one day for a 10-year high school reunion, where do you think yours would be in life? DR: Kourtney would most definitely be highly influential and very successful! She would have a few businesses up her sleeve, plus a reality show or two, and maybe a lil’ boo thang ... if that could fit into her schedule! FAR: Carlos will most likely be in a one-man show on Broadway that he wrote, directed and choreographed. SW: I think Gina would either be the CEO of a huge corporation, a movie star, or a touring choreographer! She has so many passions and she's so ambitious. I think she could do anything she wanted. JL: I definitely know where Ashlyn wants to be - she wants to be on Broadway. I see her in, like, a beautiful queer relationship. And hopefully, starring in her favorite show, maybe being Belle in the revival of Beauty and the Beast!

[cryptofadventure]

Some Mario headcanons:

He may be very happy and sun shiney as a person but the one thing that sucks his soul dry is ✨️customer service ✨️. Remember, being a hero doesn't pay, and this man has a business that involves explaining shit to the general public. You can see his patience truly tested when he gets a rude customer or one that doesn't want to listen to why you can't do certain things with your pipes and whatnot. Bowser? No problem. Stopping a evil jester? Sure! Explaining to some Karen why she can't pour hot grease into her pipes??? GOD HELP HIM NOT RETURN TO HIS NEW YORK ROOTS--

This man kinda...instinctively shoulders his own issues with everyone else's because he has a hard time denying others help. Hence you ask him about something absolutely horrifying like the events of Super Paper Mario or Bowser's inside story he'll basically call that shit a "bruh moment".

He's almost always powered up with a powershroom: 1. You'll never know what will pop off, 2.....it makes him slightly taller/ stronger

Not too fond of King Boo; that's the one guy that can catch him off guard. That and he's been throughly roughed up by him while captured before because he had some choice words/taunts/etc to say that the Boo didn't like.

He's no better than Bowser with his showboating to Peach the only difference is that he doesn't kidnap her

If he's extremely bored he will put on that goddamn clown costume from Odyssey and stand in Bowser's windows (sometimes Roy let's him in)

Awful liar he can't lie to save his or your own life

He can fall asleep just about anywhere in any position no matter how loud his surroundings is

He doesn't see Bowser as an enemy, just competition. Like yeah, at first he didn't like him because he called himself the King of Evil etc etc but more and more he sees Bowser being a dad, hanging out and playing golf/karting, and teaming up with him a few times to save all of existence he stopped seeing Bowser as "evil" just...egotistical, slightly narcissistic, and occasionally annoying. However, he does enjoy their rivalry because it feeds into his own competitive spirit.

He has a hard time saying no to puppy eyes, be it something like a dog, cat, young child, yoshi, and hell, even Luigi. He caves easily.

Occasionally is petty and will steal DK's bananas for himself to get back at him for anything the Kong starts....though he himself does start confrontations on occasion.

Fights in his sleep resulting in him falling from the top bunk or setting his comforter on fucking fire. Dude wakes up cold and covered in ashes.

[doritofalls]

Idk why kiyo only targeted girls to send to his sister and he straight up mentions that he and shuichi could never be his sisters friends because they're boys, he just seems like he doesn't care that much for gender rules, idk why is so hung up on that

honestly, i feel like there's several aspects to that answer.

i think kiyo, personally, isn't caught up in performing masculinity. in his own experience, he probably views gender as a very layered concept with an ever shifting cultural significance - he doesn't seem bothered by being a man, but he is not troubled by being considered feminine or effeminate, either - seeming to rather enjoy the fact in some instances. while believing he hosts his sister's soul murkies the waters, i just think he is just not all that cis.

however, i don't think the reason shuichi or kiyo could not be sister's friends is because they are men. for kiyo, it seems personal - like something his sister told him, when she was alive. as for shuichi, kiyo simply refuses to entertain the idea of letting him become sister's friend because he's a man. kiyo wants company for his sister, but even in this delusion, he is too insecure and frankly, possessive, to introduce an element of possible competition. presumably, sister was interested in men (as opposed to showing interest in women) and kiyo is not taking the risk of her finding anyone better or more suitable than him.

now that is IF we accept it for a fact that his extremely specific victim criteria is only due to his delusions, and in no way a manifestation of deep rooted loathing for his sister in some sort of repeated morbid trauma reenactment. not that i think kiyo would know so if it was, consciously. he's good at believing only what he wants to believe.

[wolint]

PARTNERSHIP

PARTNERSHIP

Amos 3:3

 

We can only walk with those we agree with; walking together is partnering with another to reach a goal agreeable to all parties. There are those with whom we’ve parted ways for personal, business, or spiritual reasons because we no longer agree and can no longer walk together.

There are all kinds of partnerships, but every one of them is rooted in a relationship based on sharing, participation, and productivity, leading to a reciprocal relationship between those who receive a resource and those who give it out to attain a fruitful venture.

What and who do you partner with?

Ecclesiastes 4:9 says two are better than one, that a partnership is infinitely better than working alone because working together leads to more satisfying outcomes. A partnership has an advantage that a solitary person never has. The Bible teaches that true partnership is built on mutual respect and shared purpose. When two people work together with a common goal, their combined strength multiplies. Trust and communication are the foundation of any successful partnership. By supporting each other, partners can achieve more than they ever could alone.

We can partner with other people for business and financial purposes, but do we know that we can partner with the Lord for the spread of the gospel and soul-winning? We either finance the spread of the gospel through ministers, give money to godly causes, tell others about beneficial projects, or join others on a mission or partner with them for someone else to go.

The Philippians’ participation provided financial support that helped Paul spread the gospel (Philippians 4:15, 18). Their partnership in his ministry was the reason he prayed for them with joy.

Do you give to the work of the kingdom?

Do you take time to pray for those on the mission field and the spread of the gospel?

How about putting a fraction of your finances towards helping brethren start a project or business that will change lives and help others?

From the beginning, God designed to us live and work in community, unity and partnership. So why do we often decide to work alone in our ministries? Why do we avoid partnering with others in our local areas knowing that they have the same passion to grow God’s Kingdom?

Luke 5 recounts Peter’s net-breaking fish catch; they beckoned to their partners. Had they not called them to help, the net would have broken, and all the fish lost. What a pity that the body of Christ would rather leave a soul to perish than direct them to a church closer to them because of envy, competition, pride, and selfishness. If they help each other in the spirit of Christian fellowship, more souls will come to the knowledge of the truth.

We could partner with others by recommending someone for something we can’t do or have, as Paul did with Philemon for Onesimus (Philemon 1:17). Paul said to Philemon, “If you see me as a partner and consider me as a friend, do this for me, that is, partner with me to help Onesimus.”

Would you consider partnering with someone today to make a difference?

As much as we love to make progress in every area of life, without partnering with the Holy Spirit, progress will be elusive. The Father knows that a partnership between the Holy Spirit and us will bring His will to pass because the Holy Spirit walks alongside us always (2 Corinthians 13:14) to guide, teach, and help us in every way.

As Paul referred to Titus in 2 Corinthians 8:23, we are co-labourers in Christ. Partnership in kingdom business yields eternal dividends.

PRAYER: Lord God, help me to always remember that everything I have comes from You and that Your business model is profitable to anyone who partners with You. May I always see a need to partner in kingdom business. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Shalom

WOMEN OF LIGHT INT’L PRAYER MIN.

PLEASE CORRECT AND ADD