#if you want something specific i can see what i can do!

[help-help-i-need-an-adult]

That bit where “you can’t possibly be (fill in the thing here) because you’re so smart!” thing has made me want to fist fight adults my whole life.

They usually meant it as a compliment but it always made me see red. I still see red when I hear someone say something similar about a kid now.

I’m dyslexic and was diagnosed as such in 2nd grade. I’m also convinced I’m autistic and ADHD but haven’t bothered to get a diagnosis as an adult.

DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TEACHERS WERE LIKE “I never would have guessed you were dyslexic!”? BITCH, YOU’VE HAD MY IEP SINCE BEFORE THE SCHOOL YEAR STARTED! DID YOU NOT READ IT?!

No. They didn’t. Not till I said something to force them to do their jobs.

The worst example was 7th grade French.

I’d been quiet about the fact that my French teacher was marking down my tests because my spelling wasn’t correct. My IEP specifically said “if it isn’t a spelling test, you can ask this kid to go back and fix it after the test, but spelling cannot count against their grade.” Anyway, I was used to it taking a few weeks before a teacher got around to reading my IEP because it was usually at the bottom of a large stack of them due to my last name being at the end of the alphabet. And one or two C’s at the beginning of the year wasn’t anything I couldn’t come back from.

Well… it never got corrected. He didn’t stop docking points for spelling.

After what I deemed was plenty of time to get his shit together, I confronted him about it.

Now, I’ll tell you, I was in an advanced French class that was designed to give gifted middle school kids a head start on their high school foreign language. We had to be recommended by name by the 5th/6th grade foreign language teacher to qualify for this class.

So I told him “you can’t lower my grade for spelling” and he said something along the lines of “that’s part of the point. It’s French.” And I was like “no, really. You can’t do this to me. I’m dyslexic.”

And guys. This grown ass man looked at a 13 year old kid and with his full chest said “I wasn’t supposed to have any of you in this class.”

Any of you.

It’s a good thing I was already mad or that would have made me cry.

I’d been othered plenty in my life up till then for being weird, clearly a baby queer, having a mom that called teachers out for not using standard English, being dyslexic, etc. This was just the first time that a teacher had been that blatant about it to my face. No attempt of being politically correct or gentle or anything. No, “I never would have guessed!” as a way to try and make it a compliment.

Just flat out “you are not supposed to be here. You are not good enough or smart enough to be here. You existing has made my life harder when you weren’t allowed to do so.”

I marched out of his class and went straight to the Special Ed teacher who’s “class” (it was really a study hall for kids who had a learning disability of some variety and needed the extra help or was at least entitled to it by the state) I had right after French. I would usually use that time to finish my homework so I wouldn’t have to do it at home. Sometimes my homework was already done so I’d help the other kids. The teacher would check in with me to make sure I didn’t need any help, but I never did.

Well, now I needed help.

She could tell I was mad because I’m not subtle and, ya know, the previous class hadn’t ended yet. She asked what was wrong and I didn’t mince words. She told me to stay put and then she marched out of the room.

I wish I’d followed her. I can only imagine the new asshole she ripped him.

Sure enough, statring the next day, every little bit of my IEP was being followed to the letter in French class. From my spelling not counting to the jerk using a microphone for my hearing and sticking me in the back of the class with the speaker instead of just turning one desk 90° and letting me sit there.

I fought for the desk instead of the microphone but he was following the IEP so I didn’t win that one. Besides, now that my needs were being met, I was getting some of the best grades in the class, and therefore belonged in the back “privileged smart kids” seats that he’d put me in.

(Yes, the man segregated his rows by your class grade. We all knew who was doing well and who wasn’t by where he sat you.)

On the bright side, I met a good friend by sitting in the back.

He wasn’t an employee at the school when I returned for 8th grade.

Anyway.

Gifted kids just get neglected because the school feels they can get away with it. They don’t react well when theres a gifted kid with an IEP and knows not to let them get away with it.

They treat those kids like shit. They tell those kids they are special and the future but also that they are a burden and shouldn’t be with the actually smart and special children.

These kids bounce back and forth between class rooms full of other neglected gifted kids and class rooms full of other neglected special needs kids. In the former they are treated like the dead weight and in the latter they are treated like the teacher’s assistant so the teacher doesn’t have to help the one kid who needs the most help in the class, because “they’ll get that kid through this group project. It’s fine.”

These children and bored to tears in one scenario and ripping their hair out from frustration in the other.

Not smart enough and too smart all at once. Out smarting the adults around you but somehow never doing well enough to get all A’s.

Constantly battling the teachers, good and bad over your needs.

Watching your friends fall through the cracks because they weren’t lucky enough to have a parent who worked in this system and taught them how to fight it. Watching some of them deem themselves stupid when they AREN’T but everything is telling them they are and they’ve stopped trying and other friends never learn the basic skills like note taking because they read in class and still get good grades.

Neither one of these friends knowing the point of school is to learn and not to pass tests because the school is telling them it’s all about grades and tests and so you watch all of your friends lack the actual knowledge they’re supposed to be gaining.

“You’re supposed to give me the multiple choice questions.” “You asked me to help you study. If you can’t answer the question without the multiple choice, you don’t know the answer.” Non of the other gifted kids at the table seeing my point and the other kids in our friend group saying “this is why I don’t bother.”

Our school system is so fucked.

That is all.

people misunderstand what ‘gifted kid’ actually means but it’s ok it’s fine it’s cool it’s good

[pyract0]

Random thoughts with MHA men!

☁︎Lowkey just a heap of stupid ideas I had for different characters I thought were funny/ cute. Might extend on a few of these into longer fics if I find the time :) ☁︎Going back to finishing some requests after this! Sometimes read and can't process what I just read so might take a while to finish them all! Feel free to request but might be a bit slow at the moment, but I'll get through them when I can! ☁︎Not really any warnings other than swearing (Tried to keep it to a minimum but habit when I can't think of a fitting word)! Gn/ unspecified reader :))

╰┈➤ Katsuki Bakugo who follows a strict routine he set for himself to get the most out of the day, in bed by exactly 8:30. Yet he coincidently always happens to be awake when you try to sneak in and cuddle under the covers with him. Gets annoyed at you for "interfering" with his schedule, but he never lets himself fall asleep if he knows your planning to visit, even if at ridiculous hours of the night. ╰┈➤ Shoto Todoroki who lacks certain aspects of understanding when it comes to social cues, specifically the idea of personal space after you start dating. Will stand behind you breathing down your neck just wanting to be near you, not realising how odd it appears to anyone passing by. Similarly, will practically sit ON you instead of beside you, squeezing between you and anyone/anything so he can sit right beside you.

╰┈➤ Izuku Midoriya who often forgets or simply doesn't realise when his habit of rambling starts, sometimes scaring the shit out of you when he suddenly breaks the silence. Will need you to sometimes cover his mouth when out in public before he says something that would accidently make any sane person uncomfortable. Talked about murder out of context at least a few times and got y'all kicked out of somewhere </3

╰┈➤ Tenya Iida who understands the concept of money and it's overall value, but frankly doesn't care when it comes to you. Buys you awfully expensive items that reminds him of you/ thinks you'll like, hiding just how much he actually spent so you don't reject it (you know, you just don't have the heart to tell him.) Will gift you like it's only something small and beat himself up for not getting you something better (It cost more than what you make in 3 months). Prides himself on responsibility but it all falls out the window when about his decisions around you.

╰┈➤ Eijiro Kirishima who shows you off like some sort of deity, constantly praising anything and everything you do. Accidently degrades himself while praising you, saying how he doesn't deserve you (he's literally an angel :(( ). Will do anything for you, if you ask him or not, choosing to show just how much he loves you through his actions not just words. Tells you he loves you at least 5 times a day <3

╰┈➤ Neito Monoma who respects you even if you're in class 1a, never speaking poorly of you even when shitting on your class. Stops whenever you're nearby and starts acting all sweet like he wasn't badmouthing each of your classmates to their faces minutes prior. Another one who worships your every movement and the ground you walk on, but instead of degrading himself puts everyone else but the both of you down. (My favourite little menace)

╰┈➤ Hitoshi Shinsou who without fail whenever you're alone hands you some random ass cat inspired thing that reminded him of you. First it was a small succulent pot, next some really doped out looking cat plushie, then a little keychain of a black cat with a witches hat.. it just kept going. Gets you wondering how he manages to keep finding these objects, and how he always manages to have one when you see each other unplanned (He has a little hidden pocket where he stores the little strange trinkets) ╰┈➤ Rody Soul who sometimes activates his quirk, summoning Pino, at the most random hours of night. Will get woken up by your sudden screams, thinking you had a nightmare only for it to have been Pino scaring the shit out of you by sitting on your chest in the middle of the night and scrutinizing your very being (lovingly). Has been forced as a result to spend the next day begging for forgiveness for Pino's actions (He had a dream of you and she was just admiring you with the same level of affection as him, just hers a bit more creepy..)

╰┈➤ Mirio togata who even after years of practice with his quirk, happens to forget what activating it in normal clothes does. Has tried to phase through the ground to surprise you with his sudden appearance just to end up flashing you, both of you now sitting in embarrassment while your struggling to breathe through your laughter. Apologises before joining you in going along with your everyday life (It will happen again)

╰┈➤ Tamaki Amajiki who uses you as a form of protection, not from physical danger but from people trying to communicate with you both. Will hold your hand in his and stand right against your back, head often against yours or on your shoulder while he lets you talk for him as well as yourself. As soon as you finish, will drag you away to a more secluded area and embrace you with more confidence as a way of showing his appreciation for never complaining about his shying away from socialising.

╰┈➤ Giulio Gandini who chooses to not wear his eyepatch when you're both alone, trusting you in his most vulnerable form. Who is able to use his robotic eye as a camera, recording your interactions to preserve the memory. Often pulls up these moments on the screen of his prosthetic arm when you're apart, watching through them when he misses you. Moves certain ones to a USB and prints out photos to give you (some in lockets, some just as a copy to frame) leaving you confused on how he managed to get them. (I love him so much :(( lowkey the main reason I liked the 4th movie sm)

╰┈➤ Touya Todoroki/ Dabi who will only let you help when it comes to dyeing his hair (aka forces you when the black is washing out to help fix it up). Will sit on a random chair he dragged in or the edge of the bathtub while you touch up his roots, probably moves constantly unless you hold his head in place. Gets you to join him in the shower to help wash through it, being a little shit about it and smudging the dye on you so it'll stain.

╰┈➤ Tomura Shigaraki who refuses to touch you with all 5 of his fingers, even after he's confident in his abilities to control his quirk. Will always have a finger lifted from your body while he holds you in his embrace, wearing artist gloves when sleeping beside you just to be safe. Holds your hand constantly when alone like the touch starved person he is but never has a proper grasp, loosely intertwining your fingers while he leaves his pinkie away from your hand.

╰┈➤ Shota Aizawa who similar to his son has a habit of handing you random stuff when he returns home, though his are more concerning. If you had a nickel for every time he came home to hand you a kitten he found in an alley, you would have two but it was very strange it happened twice. Came home after his long shift one night and handed you a cat like it was just another causal Wednesday. So anyways you guys have 2 cats now :))

╰┈➤ Keigo Takami who likes to use his feathers to tickle you at the least expected times, often resulting in a fresh bruise the next day. Will each and every time forget you like to swing when his feathers are tickling at your sides, with your first or leg accidently colliding with some part of his body. One time was his face, another his calf, or the time you accidently hit him where the sun don't shine. He learnt to move back after that one..

[lackadaisycats]

Hello Tracy, I've been a fan of Lackadaisy since the webcomic days and want to ask a quick question regarding Patreon. I'm also an indie creative myself and currently trying to raise funds for a show I'm working on. What are the best ways to market myself online, and what are some ways to obtain money for the production of merchandise that doesn't involve crowdfunding?

Any specific advice I could give about marketing oneself online at this point would be pretty outdated. I started making Lackadaisy years back, when the internet had a rather different geography and culture. DeviantArt was where all the art kids were. That is, of course, no longer the case.

My generalized advice, though, would be to start working on your project, start sharing it in some form, even if it's just concept art or experiments at this phase, and start building an audience. Nothing speaks to the quality and appeal of whatever it is you're making like the thing itself does. Pick your poisons, as far as social media goes, but probably don't focus solely on one. Platforms don't remain useful or pleasant places to be forever. Set up an avenue for viewers to support you (Patreon, Ko-fi, or something like it), but don't expect supporters to come flooding in all at once. The internet is awash with so many creators and shows and influencers and distractions, it's hard to make waves. Tenacity will be your ally, though. You are likely going to be pursuing your project on the side and possibly working at a loss for a while as you build. Keep things small scale, especially if you're working solo, or with a small team of people. Audience growth and support may eventually start allowing you to expand your ambitions. It's important to do the thing you're doing out of love for the art, for the project itself, for the experience of doing it, and not because you're expecting rounds of applause, accolades, and money to come rushing at you. There's no guarantee that last part will happen...so at least make sure you're having fun doing whatever you're doing.

----------------

About merchandise --

You can incur the upfront cost of producing, say, a small run of enamel pins. Sell them on your own shop storefront or offer them to supporters at certain tier levels and see how long it takes to earn back the production cost such that you start earning a little bit of profit. Get a feel for how well you can handle packaging and shipping things yourself. Test the waters before making any large merch orders, and don't order vast amounts of something that you don't have room to 'warehouse' in your own home.

You can go the print on demand route. It's got its drawbacks - like slim returns - but it allows you to offer an assortment of merch items without the huge risk of paying big manufacturing fees upfront. It can also do the fulfillment/shipping part for you. I did pretty okay selling prints this way for a time. (Research and be selective about what services you use here, though. Some have gotten markedly worse over the years.)

I know Patreon offers a subscription level for creators that includes some merch production and fulfillment. I haven't personally used it, though, so I'd ask around to see what other creators' experiences have been like with it.

One thing I would suggest relying more heavily on, especially at first, is digital/downloadable rewards, like PDF ebooks or digital sketchbooks - things like that. Shipping supplies and postage costs are ever-increasing and can easily end up putting you in the red. Also, if you have an international audience, it may be difficult to reach them with tangible merch items.

You might also check out some nearby conventions to see if they'd be a good fit for you and your project. Apply for artist alley space at one of them if that's appropriate, or investigate whether or not it'd be worth it to get a dealer table. You might even find someone willing to share dealer space with you for a trial-run.

At some point, when you have enough of an audience to warrant it, seek out a merch partner. Or, they might come scouting for you if they think you have something going that'd be soundly marketable.

[ryebread0605]

Hii! Hope you're doing great.

Can you do dorm leaders of twisted wonderland with a mute or blind reader? ( male reader)

It's okay if not and thanks! (✿❛◡❛)

This is a very fun one to do cuz I love to see disability rep in fanfics (especially as a disabled person!) I hope you don’t mind that I did deaf and blind!

Riddle: 

he just thinks you’re ignoring him at first when he yells at you to go to specific areas you don’t know, which leads to many instances of the collar being put on you 

He gets curious when he sees deuce leading you around everywhere 

Started to get suspicious when he found out you do all your essays and readings through the computer

Yeah he’s not the type to figure out you are blind on his own

Finally comes to a head as you’re painting the roses, he comes behind you and goes “NO THOSE ARE BLUE NOT RED! WHAT, ARE YOU BLIND OR SOMETHING?” 

Awkward silence begins and it finally clicks 

Poor boy is apologetic beyond belief and will do anything in his power to make up for it

Goes out of his way to make sure every single corner in the heartslabyul form has a cushion against it so you won’t hurt yourself 

“I’m so sorry (name) I promise I didn’t know. Please, if there’s any way we can accommodate you more, let myself or Trey know!”

Leona:

at first, he sees you as weak, an easy target

Until he tries to sneak up on you and get an elbow straight to the gut

He can tell right away that you don’t let being blind hold you back and DAMN does he respect it

Jack is given the duty of being your eyes, seeing as you have numeral classes together and are both freshmen

He adds a detail to spelldrive so you can play, making it so the disc beeps when it’s close to you so you can catch it 

He will never admit that his instincts are telling him to take the small weak cub under his wing

“Look, in this dorm it’s survival of the fittest. If you’ve spent this long at NRC without being taken out by a dumbass, you got what it takes to be part of the dorm”

Azul:

because of the Sea Witch stories, it became mandatory for all merfolk to learn some version of sign language

He can easily spot you are deaf and tries to strike up a deal first, only he mixes it up in his mind and signs ‘date’ instead 

Both of you are blushing messes but why not? 

You help to properly teach him and the tweels proper sign language and in return you now have 3 powerful and influential men there to protect you at any time 

“I must ask, do you think it would be a fruitful venture to hold a paid for sign language class? Of course the proceeds would go to a charity! That charity being getting you those hearing aids you’ve been wanting”

Kalim:

Is very confused as you don’t seem to hear him at all, making him practically yell

Jamil has to be the one to tell him that you could just be deaf

This mans is FLUENT in sign and will have the best gossip to tell you that only you two can hear 

Jamil is happy cuz it keeps him out of trouble and keeps the dorm quiet

Until Kalim realizes he can raise the music so you can feel the bass 

“Isn’t this awesome! I knew you’d love this song! Everyone deserves the chance to party in Scarabia!”

Vil:

he has worked with plenty of people so it’s no surprise he knows how to sign 

During the SDC, he makes sure you have a seat closest to the speakers so you can feel the vibrations the best 

Offers several times to make you a hearing potion but accepts that it is a part of you that you wish to keep 

ASL is now mandatory to learn in the Pomefiore dorm (with permission from Crowley who sees this as an opportunity to show how inclusive his school is)

“(Name) how does this seat work for you? Is it close enough to the speaker? Or would you rather have an interpreter? Just let me know potato”

Idia:

it makes him feel so relaxed to know you can’t see him

You enjoy video games AND you can’t clock his looks? Hell yes

He’s ringing up STYX right away to sent a Cerberus unit as a guide dog for you 

If you are up to it, he would love to make cyber eyes for you to give you sight back

Gets super excited hanging out with you and lets himself be himself because in his eyes you can’t see him so you don’t judge him 

“-and yeah! He should be all set up for your fingerprint id! If any problems happen, like normies trying to get in your way, he has an op defense mode”

Malleus:

by FAR the most protective of you

Since you can’t see, he worries others will take advantage of that and he is NOT having that

He is your person guard dragon and will follow you around everywhere  

Has set up his nest in Diasomnia (because I like the idea that he keeps dragon instincts like nesting and hoarding) to include a tactile pathway to both the bathroom and door so you have more sense of freedom

If he can’t guard you, Lilia will. Lilia is a lot more ferocious in his guarding as he had blind soldiers when he was a general

“Child of man, if you need anything, money is no problem. I could get you set up with working eyes if you would like. But if you prefer how you are, that’s alright too”

[elumish]

@cuteykitsune asked in a reply: How do you show religion in your story? Prayer? Chuch? Holidays? Traditions?

I wanted to actually give a full response to this, because I think it's a great question.

Religions consist of a few things:

Stories

Beliefs/creeds

Rules/norms

Traditions

These aren't quite collectively exhaustive, and they're certainly not mutually exclusive (they are closely tied to each other), but they encompass the vast majority of what makes up a religion.

Stories are probably the simplest part of a religion: the written or oral tales passed down in the religion that tie to its beliefs, teachings, and/or origins. The Bible, the Torah, the Quran, stories about pantheons, creation stories, etc. all serve to both explain the world and provide guidance on how to live a proper religious life. These stories don't need to be part of the official canon of the religion and can be about historical figures tied to the religion (e.g., Catholic saints).

In stories, this may show by through people telling or referencing stories, through art or architecture depicting those stories, or through references to holy books, as some examples.

Beliefs are about the shared ideological viewpoints of the religion. These are often documented in the religious stories, but don't necessarily have to be. They can be as formal as the Nicene Creed or as informal as just a general shared understanding.

Theism is a major belief for the vast majority of religions, though it is not necessary. It also includes belief in what is sacred, what is acceptable, whether there is an afterlife, what good or bad traits are, etc.

If the religion is a theistic one, this belief would also include one about how the god(s) engage with the world and with people. Do they believe there is direct physical engagement (see: Zeus and the many mortal women he sleeps with) or that guidance is provided spiritually? Do they believe that there may be intervention in times of crisis? Do they believe that the god(s)'s hands are shaping the world constantly or that they created the world and then stopped? Do they believe that the god(s) listen to direct prayer from anyone or that specific locations, objects, rituals, or qualifications are required? Are the god(s) benevolent? Omniscient? Omnipresent? Do they care about humans?

In stories, this can show up any way you show the character thinking about the religion or gods. Do they think that the god(s) support their actions or if their actions follow their religious teachings? Do they care if that's the case? Do they always wash their hands carefully because their religion teaches cleanliness is important? Do they believe that certain things are good or evil?

Rules/Norms cover the institution/enforcement of those beliefs. These may be strict laws outlined in religious texts or by religious institutions (e.g., dietary restrictions) or general norms (e.g., dressing up for church). This may dictate how someone can engage with the religion or how religious people can engage with the broader world.

This is also where two religions or sects with similar beliefs really start to differentiate from each other. One might explicitly disallow something that a different one begrudgingly tolerates, even if both believe that it's bad

The structure of the religion also starts to come into play here. If a religion says only men can serve certain roles, for example, men will then be the ones playing those roles in the religious institution.

In stories, this is shown the same way any other rules or norms are.

Traditions, in my view, cover a wide range of things, from big societal traditions like holidays or rest days to small personal traditions like prayer. This is what you do as part of a religion--the actual actions taken by individuals or groups to participate in the religion.

Do people go to a physical location on a regular basis? Are all locations equal or can a person only go to certain ones? Is there someone who leads services? If people congregate for worship or other religious practice, how often? What does it look like?

Do people pray individually? What does that look like? Do houses have shrines or other dedicated areas for worship, or is it only conducted in congregate areas?

Do religious practices include specific rituals? Specific objects? Specific clothing?

This is also where the structure of the organization really shows up. Is there an organized structure (a la the Catholic Church) or is it religional? Local? Individual?

In stories, this can look like any physical practice of the religion.

Some of the biggest fantasy worldbuilding fails that I see, in no particular order

Gods without religion. The Gods are real and a known historical fact, but virtually nobody is religious.

Cultural racism/discrimination without structural racism/discrimination. Discrimination that exists only in microagressions or mean comments, without existing in any sort of structural way.

Secret history with no clear reason for it to be secret and no clear method for maintaining that secrecy. Major parts of the world's history are kept entirely secret, even though there's not an obvious reason to do so and even when history has shown this is virtually impossible to enforce (especially in a world with any movement or communication across borders).

Large, homogeneous countries. Even without immigration, virtually no country larger than the Vatican will be fully homogeneous in terms of culture, dialect, beliefs, traditions, etc., much less a large one with limited communication technology as is often seen in fantasy. The Planet of Hats problem.

[kakuvibez]

hello!! I don't know if you take poly requests but could you do Shadow milk cookie x Sua!reader (alien stage) x Pure vanilla hcs? like they're reaction to having an s/o with a really good and soft voice just like how Sua has and could you base readers appearance with Sua except reader has a long hair but still has Sua's features, personality etc. hcs and scenario/s will do! but if you don't do poly rqs then feel free to just separate them! but will really like it more if you do poly but no worries it's up to you!!

yandere one shot/quotes/ hcs; CRK

Since you're my first request for a cookie run kingdom story(?) I want to give you extra (≡^∇^≡)‼️

requested by ; anonymous/ @user / none,,

fandom(s) ; ALNST, CRK

fandom master list(s): master | specific

character(s); Shadow Milk Cookie, Pure Vanilla Cookie Sua!Reader,

outline; "Can you sing...?"

warning(s) ; yandere themes for extra,,

You have a voice as soft and enchanting as Sua's, with an almost otherworldly tone that makes people stop and listen.

Your appearance mirrors Sua's, but with long, flowing hair that shimmers under the light.

Personality-wise, you're graceful yet mischievous, sometimes teasing but always carrying an air of elegance.

Shadow Milk Cookie

The first time Shadow Milk Cookie heard your voice, he froze. His usual sharp demeanor wavered, his grip tightening around his weapon.

He tells himself it's just a voice, but the way it lingers in his mind? Unacceptable.

"Tch. What kind of spell is this...?"

He acts unaffected, but if anyone else comments on your voice, he glares at them like they dared to touch something precious.

When you sing or hum absentmindedly, he pretends not to listen... but he always is. He sharpens his weapons slower, his mouth flicking in quiet satisfaction.

If anyone insults your voice? Expect immediate violence. "Say that again, and you won't have a voice to speak with."

- Initially, he doesn't react much to your voice. He's so used to harsh, bitter sounds-clashing swords, the echoes of solitude, the weight of his past.

- But then he hears you truly sing. Maybe it's late at night when he can't sleep, and you hum a tune absentmindedly. The moment the melody reaches him, his entire body stills.

- He tries to act indifferent, but is heart clenches. Why does your voice make him feel like this?

- He doesn't admit how much he craves your singing. Instead, he finds excuses to linger near you whenever you hum or speak softly.

- He secretly loves it when you sing just for him, even if he acts annoyed about it. If you stop? He'll grumble something like, "Who told you to stop?"

-barely above a whisper.

- If someone else hears you and compliments your voice? Oh. He does not like that. He'll pull you aside and mutter, "Why do you waste your voice on them?"

- He may not say it outright, but your voice is one of the only things that soothes his restless soul.

Pure Vanilla Cookie

- Pure Vanilla is absolutely mesmerized from the very first time he hears you. Your voice is a gift, a melody that carries warmth and kindness in every note.

- Every time you speak or sing, his eyes light up. He listens with a gentle, almost reverent expression, as if he's hearing something divine.

- "You have the voice of an angel," he murmurs, smiling softly. "Every word you say feels like a blessing."

- He often asks you to sing when he's healing others. He believes your voice alone has the power to mend weary souls, and he's right-your presence alone makes the injured feel at ease.

- He's not the jealous type, but he does feel a little sad when others demand your attention. He cherishes those quiet moments when it's just the two of you, your voice wrapping around him like a warm embrace.

- Pure Vanilla enjoys brushing your long hair as you sing. He finds it soothing, almost like a ritual of love and comfort.

- If he ever sees you upset, he'll softly encourage you to sing for yourself. "Even if no one else is listening, let your voice be a comfort to you as well."

Pure Vanilla Cookie is completely enchanted by your voice. He listens with a dreamy expression, like he's basking in sunlight.

"Your voice is... unlike anything I've ever heard. It soothes even the deepest wounds."

He encourages you to sing or speak freely, even if you're shy about it. He truly believes your voice holds healing properties.

If you ever feel insecure, he'll cup your cheeks gently and remind you: "Even the wind envies the softness of your words."

Loves when you hum while tending to flowers or helping others-it makes everything feel more magical.

He will absolutely ask for lullabies if he's stressed. His trust in you is absolute, and your voice is his greatest comfort.

Shadow Milk pretends to be indifferent, while Pure Vanilla is openly mesmerized. The contrast is amusing.

Shadow Milk is the type to grumble if Pure Vanilla requests a song: "What, you need to be sung to sleep like a child?" But then he stays to listen.

You often tease Shadow Milk about how he always "accidentally" shows up when you're singing. He denies it.

Pure Vanilla thinks your voice could bring peace, while Shadow Milk sees it as a weapon that could distract even the strongest of foes.

They both love you in their own way, but one thing is certain-your voice belongs only to them.

The quiet hum of your melody drifted through the air, carried by the soft night breeze. Sitting beneath a large tree, you let the notes flow effortlessly, your long hair swaying gently.

Pure Vanilla Cookie sat beside you, eyes closed, a peaceful smile gracing his lips. "It feels like a dream..." he murmured. "I could listen to you forever."

A short distance away, Shadow Milk Cookie leaned against the tree with crossed arms, his tail flicking. "Hmph. It's just a song." But the way his ears twitched betrayed his real feelings.

You smirked. "You say that, and yet you're still here."

He clicked his tongue, turning away. "Coincidence."

Pure Vanilla chuckled, his golden eyes twinkling. "Shadow Milk, you don't have to pretend. I see the way you relax when they sing."

Caught off guard, Shadow Milk scoffed but didn't leave. Instead, he muttered, "If you're gonna sing, at least don't stop halfway."

You laughed softly, continuing your song, while both of them-whether they admitted it or not-were completely captivated by you.

They may be different, but one thing is certain: your voice belongs only to them.

Extra!! ; Yandere Headcanons

Yandere! Shadow Milk Cookie

Obsessed. He hates how much he craves your voice, yet it's the only thing that soothes his ever-present rage.

He's always watching-lurking in the shadows, waiting for an excuse to eliminate anyone who gets too close to you.

"You sing too much for others. Do they really deserve to hear you?" His voice is low, almost threatening.

Doesn't like you speaking to others at all. If he catches you singing for someone else, he will glare daggers and find a way to get rid of them.

If anyone insults your voice, expect a body count. He doesn't hesitate.

He sometimes steals things that carry your scent-small ribbons, hair strands caught in your brush-just to keep a part of you when he's alone.

Yandere! Pure Vanilla Cookie

Unlike Shadow Milk, Pure Vanilla acts like the perfect lover. He praises you, smiles at you with warmth... but beneath that, there's something unsettling.

"Your voice is a gift to the world, but... perhaps it's best if only I hear it." His tone is gentle, yet firm.

Wants you to sing only for him. If others hear you, he feels betrayed-not that he'd ever punish you outright. No, he'll make you feel guilty instead.

"Do you not love me? Is that why you let others hear your voice?"

If you try to run, he'll act hurt, making you feel like the villain. "I only want to protect you, my dear... why must you try to leave me?"

He will never let you go. If necessary, he'll use magic to erase memories of anyone who's ever heard your voice before.

They hate each other. Shadow Milk is convinced Pure Vanilla is manipulating you, while Pure Vanilla sees Shadow Milk as dangerous.

You? Caught between them. They both believe they're the only one who truly deserves you.

Shadow Milk would rather keep you locked away in darkness, safe from anyone else. Pure Vanilla would keep you in a golden cage, disguised as kindness.

They both find any excuse to keep you away from others. "Stay with me a little longer," Pure Vanilla will plead, while Shadow Milk will forcefully drag you away.

If you try to escape? Pure Vanilla will gaslight you into staying, while Shadow Milk will break anyone who dares help you.

The night was unusually quiet, save for the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. Pure Vanilla Cookie sat near a small campfire, his staff resting against his shoulder, while Shadow Milk Cookie leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed, eyes shadowed with exhaustion.

You sat between them, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you absentmindedly hummed a tune-soft, dreamlike, carrying a melody neither of them could ignore.

Pure Vanilla's breath hitched, his eyes shimmering with admiration. "That song... it's beautiful."

Shadow Milk Cookie didn't say anything, but his grip on his weapon tightened ever so slightly. The usual tension in his posture seemed to ease.

"You should sing more often," Pure Vanilla encouraged gently, brushing a strand of your long hair behind your ear. "Your voice is... comforting."

"Tch." Shadow Milk Cookie scoffed, turning his gaze away.

Shadow Milk Cookie was hidden among the shadows, his tail flicking in irritation. Too many people had heard you today. He would need to take care of that.

Pure Vanilla Cookie, standing just behind you, smiled. "Your voice is... beautiful as always, my dear."

You turned to him with a soft smile. "Thank you, Vanilla."

Before you could continue, a cold hand grasped your wrist. Shadow Milk Cookie's grip was firm-almost too firm. "Enough," he growled. "You sing too much for others."

Pure Vanilla placed a hand over Shadow Milk's, his expression unreadable. "You shouldn't be so rough with them. You wouldn't want to hurt our precious songbird, would you?"

"Don't act like you're better than me," Shadow Milk spat. "You're just as bad."

You swallowed, heart pounding. There was no escaping them. No matter how sweet their words or how cruel their actions, they would never let you go.

And worst of all? A part of you was starting to wonder if you wanted to leave.

Because when they looked at you like that-like you were the only thing in their world-how could you say no?

No matter where you go, no matter how far you run-your voice, your very existence, belongs to them.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

The Quick Guide of Taking Care of Yourselves

RIGHT ANYWAY, semi-functioning again. Here's some generic tips for Americans (and beyond) in these trying times.

Limit Your Social Media News Consumption

Seriously, you need to set specific times to be aware of what's going on, and then you need to put down your phone. Many of the things that are happening are beyond your control. Doomscrolling is paralyzing. Do not fall into despair loops. This helps no one and it especially does not help you.

Make a channel in your Discord group for dumping things in and leave it to that. Find ways to plug into your local community - talk to your local library, check your local subreddit, pay attention to local events. But you also must give yourself a break from all of the above for your own mental health.

Pick a set time at night and put down your phone. Don't scroll through it before bed, don't start scrolling the second you get up. Form firm habits that allow you to rest and take care of yourself. It's important to be aware of what's happening, but it does not require your constant attention.

Do Things For Yourself

In addition to making art, it's important to find ways to keep yourself grounded. Take a class you're interested in. Go to that book club. See if there's a local group into that hobby you want to start. Need to brush up on your technical skills? See if there's some online classes that you can take (and get a certificate for!).

Don't over-commit (I say, having signed up for three different activities this year), but it is vital to take time to do things for yourself to stay grounded. Having other things to focus on is going to help. I'm taking a strength-building exercise class and German lessons, and having to focus on squats and gendered nouns for certain hours of the day has been so helpful in keeping me going. Give it a try.

(You don't have to try German, just to be clear. I just think it's a neat language.)

You Do Not Have to Constantly Rearrange Your Priorities

I donate monthly to my local animal shelter. That's still going to be an important thing to do. I reblog things I don't have the funds to contribute to myself. That's still useful to do. I'm still going to pay for my patreon subscriptions, because I am supporting people I like and want to succeed.

There are some things you can do. If you are in a position to cancel Amazon Prime, you should probably do that. But some people can't, because they don't have a more reliable way to get certain necessities, and that's fine. If you're in a position to close your Meta accounts, that seems like a good call. However, while I've currently got mine locked down, I need my Instagram for professional reasons, and it's my only point of contact for certain people. I hate it, but I've made the decision to keep using it. There's no morally perfect options out there.

Think Local and Connect with Community

You cannot do anything about most of the terrible things happening. You can, however, make connections to the people around you and find ways to support yourself and others. You can find places to volunteer. You can participate in your local political groups and keep up-to-date on protests and political action. You can keep pressure on your local politicians with phone-calling and letter campaigns. Making connections to others will help you find ways to feel useful and help, even if it doesn't feel like you can.

Most importantly, though, MAKE SURE YOU ARE SAFE. If you're a vulnerable minority in a deep red state or desperately need to keep your head down at your job, you need to make decisions that are best for you. You cannot help others if you yourself are also drowning, and that is okay.

There are still some small things everyone can do. Boycotts of certain products and companies (shout-out to all of Canada, keep it up and I hope for nothing but the best for y'all) is something you can do that doesn't put you at risk. Stay connected to like-minded friends. Stock up on masks and get your vaccines. Have an emergency-prepared plan in cases of natural disasters (always a good plan).

Hang in there. Sometimes you'll spiral, everyone will. But keeping your head above water and building steps to pull yourself up from those holes will be essential.

[wendichester]

I absolutely love your work! Could I request something where the reader is not the most active person, like... She doesn't like running, she's not fit, she's terrible at fighting. She maybe does research, but that's all. But she's good at picking clothes, she always makes sure Sam and Dean look professional/appropriate to what they'll be doing. And she makes absolutely AMAZING apple pie, and she cooks, and all - just helps "passively", not "actively". So one day she decides that "alright, that's enough, I'm only causing trouble" and leaves - and at first the boys don't care, since she "wasn't too useful" - but after like a week or two they notice that they miss the apple pie, they miss someone who could help them with looking better, especially Sam, who realizes how deep in love with her he is? And maybe she comes back?

I'm sorry if it's too specific, or too much details, or anything😅😅

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ all the little things,

summary. when you start to think just how replaceable you are, sam shows you exactly otherwise

pairing. sam winchester x reader ft. dean winchester

wordcount. 681

notes. honestly, this is just a heartwarming idea! thank you for requesting lovely 🩷

The motel room is quiet when you slip out.

Your bag is packed, everything neat and folded because, well—of course it is. You aren’t a mess. You don’t do things hastily or without thinking. But you’ve thought about this—leaving—long and hard, and the conclusion is always the same.

You aren’t useful.

Sure, you help. You make sure Dean’s FBI suit isn’t wrinkled and that Sam has something other than plaid to wear when interviewing victims. You keep the bunker stocked, and you make damn good apple pie.

But you can’t run. You can’t fight. You can barely hold a gun without it shaking in your hands.

And you’re tired of feeling like dead weight.

So you leave.

No note, no big speech—just a quiet exit in the middle of the night, the way you’re sure they’ll forget you.

Because you? You’re replaceable.

Right?

At first, the boys don’t notice.

They wake up, see that your things are gone, and shrug it off. Maybe you got tired of the life. Maybe you found something better.

They don’t talk about it.

They just move on.

Then things start feeling off.

Not all at once—just little things.

Like how Dean’s shirts are suddenly wrinkled as hell, and his ties are never quite right. Or how Sam keeps losing his laptop charger because you’re not there to remind him to bring it.

And the food? Absolute garbage.

Dean burns everything. Sam tries to cook and nearly poisons them both. They eat diner food three times a day, and after two weeks, Dean stares blankly at the menu and mutters, “God, I miss pie.”

Sam’s fork pauses mid-air.

It’s the first time either of them has said it out loud.

Dean catches himself, scowls, and shoves a bite of pancakes into his mouth. But the damage is done.

They do miss you.

The bunker feels wrong without you.

Your room is empty, hollow in a way Sam can’t stand. He stops by more often than he wants to admit, staring at the bed like it might hold answers, like it might tell him why you left without a word.

At first, he assumed it didn’t matter. But now—now it’s everywhere.

It’s in the little things.

Like how there’s no warm light from the kitchen in the morning, no soft hum of music while you bake. No one teasing Dean about his terrible diet or fixing Sam’s collar before an interview.

No one who makes them feel like they have a home.

It takes Sam longer than he’d like to admit to realize what it means.

He doesn’t just miss you.

He loves you.

And he needs you back.

Finding you takes time.

Sam spends hours searching, fingers flying over the keyboard until—finally—he gets a hit.

Dean doesn’t argue when Sam says, “Let’s go.”

Because he misses you too.

You stare at them when they show up at your new apartment.

“...What are you doing here?”

Sam takes a slow breath. “We need to talk.”

You cross your arms, trying to hold your ground. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Dean scoffs. “Bullshit.”

Sam shoots him a look, then turns back to you, softer. “We didn’t realize how much we needed you,” he admits. “Not just for the small stuff—for everything.”

You blink, and Sam steps closer, voice steady.

“You make us better. You make us feel like we’re more than just hunters. More than just the job.”

You swallow hard. “I—I thought I was just in the way.”

Sam shakes his head. “You were never in the way.”

Dean chimes in. “Look, we’re idiots, okay? We should’ve said something when you left.” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “But the truth is—we suck without you.”

Your throat tightens.

Then Sam says, quietly—earnestly,

“I love you.”

Your breath catches.

Dean smirks. “Took him long enough to admit it.”

Sam rolls his eyes but doesn’t look away from you. His hand finds yours, warm and solid.

“So,” he says. “Come home?”

You hesitate—only for a second.

Then you nod.

And just like that, everything is right again.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

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[tulentiy]

Planing your pregnancy with Jiyong headcanon

Summery: you and Jiyong decided to start planning to get pregnant

Warnings: obvious talk of pregnancy

A/N: i'm just a girl, i couldn't stop thinking about that idea since i read a father!Jiyong headcanon so yeah, here's just a little something :3

Boyfriend!Jiyong who didn’t want to waste time on a relationship that won’t bring in his life exactly what he wanted - a family. 

When you just started dating, one of the very first questions he asked you was “What do you think about children?” You were having dinner in a fine restaurant, his fingers curled around the stem of the wine glass, circling it around its axis to gather his thoughts as he was trying to ask this question. Your answer would be crucial, he thought, he wasn’t sure he was ready to start a relationship that won’t lead to kids, he wanted it his whole life and being in his mid thirties now only made him more anxious about it. The way his features softened and the small smile stretched on his face upon your answer made your lips let out a soft giggle. Yes, you loved kids and you wanted to have them. Especially with Jiyong, after getting to know him. 

Husband!Jiyong who's making all the appointments with the best doctors in Korea to make sure you're both ready to conceive a healthy child

“Aegiya,” Jiyong lifted his gaze from his laptop to you, while you were cooking some food. You half turned to face him, a question on your face. “Do you have any plans for the next Sunday?”

You sighted, scratching your neck, gaze lost somewhere between Jiyong and the wall behind him. “I don't think so, no. Why?”

He closed the space between his torso and table, resting his head on his palms, his voice low and a little bit uncertain. “I thought, since we both agreed on trying to get pregnant, should we see doctors? I want to make some appointments for both of us.” 

Husband!Jiyong who randomly started making your house the most safe place on earth

One morning you woke up to find Jiyong collecting all the cleaning supplies, sprays, bath cosmetics in a box. You were staring at him going through all of his and yours perfumes, inspecting the labels on the boxes with the attentiveness of a scientist. 

“Yeobo, what are you doing?” Your voice were soft and deep from the sleep. You saw Jiyong shiver and put yet another perfume bottle in the different, smaller box. 

“We need to get rid of everything with strong chemicals and I've also read that strong perfume can affect male reproductive system…” he whispered the last words a bit sheepishly, turning to face you with a lopsided smile and furrowed brows.

You trotted to him, instinctively sliding your hands down his body and wrapping them around his waist, as you peeked into the box over his shoulder, a soft sign flying off your lips. “You're gonna throw it all away?”

Jiyong hummed, placing a kiss on your cheek. “Maybe only the cleaning supplies, I'll get new organic ones, we can keep the perfumes, just don't use these.”

Husband!Jiyong who has quit drinking and smoking cause it's better for your kid 

Jiyong never understood why people only talk about the pre conception health for a future mom: don't drink, don't smoke, don't be stupid and everything the society tell women not to do. He threw all of his cigarettes away and all the alcohol he had he gave to his friends. “Men should stop doing it too, if you want to have a healthy child. You know, the kid gets both father's and mother's genes, right? We both should be healthy.” That what he said when instead of some nice beverage he ordered a fresh juice, when he met up with his friends after an event they all attended. 

Husband!Jiyong who memoriezed your cycle almost better than you 

He knows exactly when your phases change, he has it all in his calendar. It's silly and in the beginning you thought Jiyong was being too extra, but it kept melting you down every time Ji would ask you if you took the specific pills that were only prescribed to take during a specific phase of your cycle. Later, when you were already trying to concieve he'd plan his working scheduel around your ovulation, making sure he'd be with you 24/7, making that beautiful child

Husband!Jiyong who takes his doctor’s advise of having more fresh air too literally 

“Aein, I have a surprise for you!” Jiyong sang as he entered the bedroom, finding you still laying comfortably in the soft sheets. “Get up, get up, get up." You felt his fingers wrapping around your ankle, tugging you lightly to the edge of the bed. "Please, I need to show you something, you'll like it, I swear!"

A few mugs of coffee and a two hours car ride after, you were standing infront of a cottage, huge territory around it with lots of trees and a small pond.

Your puzzled eyes stayed fixated on Jiyong, as he was staring at you with a huge shining smile, eyes darting between you and the house. “Do you like it?”

“Yeobo, what's that?” Your eyes couldn't lie, you liked the view, perhaps too much, and Jiyong didn't fail to notice the glinting. 

He extended his arm to you with his fingers curled into a fist, and opened it slowly, revealing the keys. “It's ours.”

“It's what, it's… Jiyong!?” Living with Kwon Jiyong, you wasn't easily swayed by the presents and surprises, the amount of incredibly beautiful and rudely expensive presents you've received from him was uncountable, the branded clothes, the cars, the custom made watches and rings that would cost someone their whole life savings, but this, this was too much even from him. “What do you mean this is ours?”

Jiyong scratched his neck, his smile starting to twitch just a little. “The doctor said the fresh air is important for your health, and…” he got quiet for a couple of seconds, his gaze getting softer and foggy, almost dreamy, as he looked you over, lingering on your belly. “and when we finally have a kid, wouldn't it be amazing to live here?’ he grabbed you by the waist and pulled closer gently.

"That... That would be amazing, Ji." Words slipped your lips, as you pressed your cheek to Jiyong's chest.

So, that's it for now, thank you for reading and I hope you liked the little hc 💖

[milkistar]

𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

can you take this spike? will it wash away this jet black, now? [ . . . ] please save my soul. [ . . . ]

i'll never let them hurt you, not tonight.

⤹ you can find pt. 2 › here.

you were sent on a mission to hunt a dangerous vampire, but when you finally find him, he’s nothing like the monster you expected - he doesn’t fit the stories you were told.

★:: sunghoon (enhypen) x reader.

tags:: gn reader, vampire au, reader should kill the vampire but guess what, blood, mentions of violence, mentions of murder.

you had been taught that vampires were evil beings, ruthless, heartless.

nocturnal creatures that, when they weren’t killing for hunger, did it for fun. much more like monsters than beasts, but certainly far from being human.

they were depicted as walking nightmares, and in the books you had read, it was already a miracle if the role assigned to them was simply that of the villain; usually, it was worse.

and yet, the boy in front of you had nothing monstrous about him—on the contrary, he seemed human, too human.

at the academy of supernatural study and regulation you attended, it was common practice to send some senior students on reconnaissance missions. you and a group of three other students had been ordered to capture—and, if necessary, eliminate—a vampire deemed dangerous, apparently responsible for several deaths in the vicinity of the city where the academy was located.

at first, you were happy to contribute to the mission carried out by your academy and to help the frightened townspeople who believed there was a feral beast roaming the streets, making them too scared to leave their homes.

but now, you weren’t so sure.

the so-called "beast" was actually looking at you in fear, curled up near a tree, and didn’t seem to have the slightest intention of attacking.

the moonlight filtering through the branches of the forest made his face appear even paler than it already was, and, considering that he was theoretically supposed to be dead, that pallor was almost unsettling.

you lowered the rifle you had aimed at him, aware that you wouldn’t be able to fire even a single holy water bullet at him. not if he was looking at you like a trapped animal.

you still hadn’t alerted your teammates, and since each of you had a specific area of the forest to search, it was unlikely that anyone would come to check on what you were doing.

deep down, you knew he wasn’t the monster you were looking for, and you wanted to make sure you got the right vampire before any of your teammates shot him on sight. you didn’t want to risk taking the life of an innocent.

but no vampire is innocent.

yes, that was something you had been taught as well. but, for some reason beyond your understanding, at that moment, you felt they were wrong.

you knelt down to bring your head level with his, still holding the rifle tightly in your hand.

he pressed his back against the tree, his eyes wide with fear. how could he possibly be a murderer?

"hey, don’t be scared," you tried to reassure him, though you were the first one who wasn’t feeling calm.

it was a strange sensation. despite that small, convincing voice repeating that everything was under control, that he was harmless; despite what your eyes were seeing... you were trembling with fear, every nerve in your body screaming ‘danger!’ ‘danger!’.

he slightly parted his lips, then looked at you, tilting his head slightly.

his eyes were dark red, so dark that, at first, you had mistaken them for black. from the small glimpse of his mouth that you could see, his fangs stood out against his red lips.

he was dressed entirely in black, so even from this close, the night’s darkness made it difficult to distinguish his outline or how his clothes were actually made.

"i won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt me," you said, placing a hand on your chest; the cold fabric of your hunting suit felt almost warm against your fingers, chilled by the night air.

he remained silent, but he didn’t seem as scared anymore. ‘good,’ you thought, ‘at least one of us isn’t terrified anymore.’

asking him directly if he was the killer of all those people wouldn’t do anything but frighten him, so you decided to take him somewhere safe from your teammates' bullets first.

"come with me, you’re not safe here." you extended a hand toward the vampire, who looked at it, bewildered. "they’re looking for you."

"you’re not safe." he replied, speaking for the first time.

despite the fact that he had been shaking in fear just moments ago, his voice was strangely calm and confident. and beautiful, extremely beautiful, it seeped into your bones more than the cold wind did.

before you could ask him what he meant by that statement, a scream shattered the silence reigning in the forest. the worst part was that you were fairly sure you knew whose voice it was—you had traveled here together.

"i’m not alone tonight." as he said this, his expression changed almost imperceptibly. you weren’t sure, but did he seem to be smiling? no, it wasn’t possible, you were certain…

"but you chose to show me mercy, and i always return favors. i wouldn’t want to be in debt to none other than a human." he took your hand, which in the meantime had gone stiff—just like the rest of your body.

at that precise moment, your brain managed to register only one thing: ‘it’s warm.’ weren’t vampires supposed to have ice-cold skin?

then, you registered something else about his hand: it was slippery, maybe a little sticky?

and then you understood; it was covered in blood, and it was still warm—he had just killed someone.

finally, you could see his clothes more clearly, as if a spell had just been broken; they weren’t black, they were simply drenched in blood.

you felt like you were about to vomit.

"let’s go, sweetheart, the others aren’t as kind as me." this time, the vampire truly smiled, and you finally saw his fangs clearly: it shouldn’t have surprised you, but even they were covered in blood... which explained why his lips were red.

but how had you not noticed?

you knew vampires were skilled manipulators, but to this extent… for god’s sake, he hadn’t even spoken to you! how had he done it?

you heard another scream, this time closer. another person you knew, another student on a mission in this forest like you.

"come on, y/n, get up. i’ll take you somewhere safe." you didn’t trust him, but what choice did you have? if you stayed alone, the other vampires in his group would find and kill you. but if you followed him, maybe you could at least hope to live until sunrise.

then, you realized something.

"how do you know my name?" you had never told him, that was for sure.

he smiled even more, to the point of looking unsettling. "i know a lot of things."

he stood up, and, pulled up by the bloodstained hand still holding yours, you stood up as well.

"but to be fair, i’ll tell you my name too." still holding your hand, he gave a half bow. "you can call me sunghoon. make sure to remember it."

he smiled again, then looked around cautiously. "follow me."

a few seconds later, you were running through the forest at full speed, hand in hand with sunghoon.

you were following a murderous vampire into the unknown, the rifle—lost in fear and cold slipping from your grip as soon as you started running—was abandoned under the tree where he had previously been curled up. if the others found it, they would be able to track you by your scent.

lost in your grim thoughts, you didn’t notice that he had stopped running, and you nearly crashed into him.

before you, partially hidden by the trees, stood an old church, clearly abandoned for years. there were several wooden planks where stained glass windows should have been, and some stones from the structure had fallen, scattered at the base of the building. you didn’t want to think about it, but they almost looked like small gravestones.

"no one has come here to pray in decades, but it’s still consecrated ground." he turned his head toward you, his eyes a shade redder than they had been minutes ago. "we can’t set foot inside."

you glanced from him to the small church, then back at him. you decided to believe him, you had to.

"hide inside and stay there until sunrise, then you’ll be able to leave safely. i’ll stay nearby to keep watch, just in case."

you nodded, then moved toward the church, but he tightened his grip on your hand. "i’ll come find you again one of these nights, sweetheart." he kissed the back of your hand, leaving a blood-red mark on your skin.

you didn’t know if it was a threat or not. you wanted to believe it wasn’t, but what else could it be?

and yet, he had been so kind to you…

before you could make sense of your thoughts, he had already vanished into the night.

"thank you, sunghoon." you whispered before stepping inside the old church, as the third and final scream was swallowed by the wind.

a/n : 'oh my god another vampire au enhypen fanfic?? 😵😵😵 that's so original!' ok, yes, i know that this has been done a thousand times, but, listen, i had a vision

( i don't know where it went but i had it )

[deepdreamnights]

Time to offer an actual breakdown of what's going on here for those who are are anti or disinterested in AI, and aren't familiar with how they work, because the replies are filled with discussions on how this is somehow a down-step in the engine or that this is a sign of model collapse.

And the situation is, as always, not so simple.

Different versions of the same generator always prompt differently. This has nothing to do with their specific capabilities, and everything to do with the way the technology works. New dataset means new weights, and as the text parser AI improves (and with it prompt understanding) you will get wildly different results from the same prompt.

The screencap was in .webp (ew) so I had to download it for my old man eyes to zoom in close enough to see the prompt, which is:

An expressive oil painting of a chocolate chip cookie being dipped in a glass of milk, represented as an explosion of flavors.

Now, the first thing we do when people make a claim about prompting, is we try it ourselves, so here's what I got with the most basic version of dall-e 3, the one I can access free thru bing:

Huh, that's weird. Minus a problem with the rim of the glass melting a bit, this certainly seems to be much more painterly than the example for #3 shown, and seems to be a wildly different style.

The other three generated with that prompt are closer to what the initial post shows, only with much more stability about the glass. See, most AI generators generate results in sets, usually four, and, as always:

Everything you see AI-wise online is curated, both positive and negative.*

You have no idea how many times the OP ran each prompt before getting the samples they used.

Earlier I had mentioned that the text parser improvements are an influence here, and here's why-

The original prompt reads:

An expressive oil painting of a chocolate chip cookie being dipped in a glass of milk, represented as an explosion of flavors.

V2 (at least in the sample) seems to have emphasized the bolded section, and seems to have interpreted "expressive" as "expressionist"

On the left, Dall-E2's cookie, on the right, Emil Nolde, Autumn Sea XII (Blue Water, Orange Clouds), 1910. Oil on canvas.

Expressionism being a specific school of art most people know from artists like Evard Munch. But "expressive" does not mean "expressionist" in art, there's lots of art that's very expressive but is not expressionist.

V3 still makes this error, but less so, because it's understanding of English is better.

V3 seems to have focused more on the section of the prompt I underlined, attempting to represent an explosion of flavors, and that language is going to point it toward advertising aesthetics because that's where the term 'explosion of flavor' is going to come up the most.

And because sex and food use the same advertising techniques, and are used as visual metaphors for one another, there's bound to be crossover.

But when we update the prompt to ask specifically for something more like the v2 image, things change fast:

An oil painting in the expressionist style of a chocolate chip cookie being dipped in a glass of milk, represented as an explosion of flavors, impasto, impressionism, detail from a larger work, amateur

We've moved the most important part (oil painting) to the front, put that it is in an expressionist style, added 'impasto' to tell it we want visible brush strokes, I added impressionism because the original gen had some picassoish touches and there's a lot of blurring between impressionism and expressionism, and then added "detail from a larger work" so it would be of a similar zoom-in quality, and 'amateur' because the original had a sort of rough learners' vibe.

Shown here with all four gens for full disclosure.

Boy howdy, that's a lot closer to the original image. Still higher detail, stronger light/dark balance, better textbook composition, and a much stronger attempt to look like an oil painting.

TL:DR The robot got smarter and stopped mistaking adjectives for art styles.

Also, this is just Dall-E 3, and Dall-E is not a measure for what AI image generators are capable of.

I've made this point before in this thread about actual AI workflows, and in many, many other places, but OpenAI makes tech demos, not products. They have powerful datasets because they have a lot of investor money and can train by raw brute force, but they don't really make any efforts to turn those demos into useful programs.

Midjourney and other services staying afloat on actual user subscriptions, on the other hand, may not have as powerful of a core dataset, but you can do a lot more with it because they have tools and workflows for those applications.

The "AI look" is really just the "basic settings" look.

It exists because of user image rating feedback that's used to refine the model. It tends to emphasize a strong light/dark contrast, shininess, and gloss, because those are appealing to a wide swath of users who just want to play with the fancy etch-a-sketch and make some pretty pictures.

Thing is, it's a numerical setting, one you can adjust on any generator worth its salt. And you can get out of it with prompting and with a half dozen style reference and personalization options the other generators have come up with.

As a demonstration, I set midjourney's --s (style) setting to 25 (which is my favored "what I ask for but not too unstable" preferred level when I'm not using moodboards or my personalization profile) and ran the original prompt:

3/4 are believably paintings at first glance, albeit a highly detailed one on #4, and any one could be iterated or inpainted to get even more painterly, something MJ's upscaler can also add in its 'creative' setting.

And with the revised prompt:

Couple of double cookies, but nothing remotely similar to what the original screencap showed for DE3.

*Unless you're looking at both the prompt and raw output.

original character designs vs sakimichan fanart

[mrs-delaney]

Hide | The Set-Up | Chapter One

Summary: Joe Burrow never liked talk shows, but a post-Super Bowl appearance on The Tonight Show was part of the job. He expected scripted questions, football talk, and a few forced laughs with Jimmy Fallon. What he didn’t expect? A surprise guest—Riley Carter, the lead singer of The Rambles, a band he’s quietly admired for years. A harmless game of “Love Match” turns into national TV humiliation when Joe picks Riley over every celebrity presented—only to have her walk out onto the stage moments later. What started as his worst nightmare might just turn into something much more interesting.

Pairings: Joe Burrow x Riley Carter (OC)

Word Count: 5.6k

Requested: No | Yes

Warnings: Mild language, talk show ambush, secondhand embarrassment, and undeniable chemistry

This story is ONLY posted on Wattpad and Tumblr under miss_delaney. If you see it anywhere else, it has been stolen. Do NOT copy, repost, translate, or distribute my work on any other platform. Please respect my writing.

Want to be added to the taglist? Drop a comment or message me! 💕

Requests: Open

Author’s Note: And so it begins! I wanted to set the stage for Joe and Riley’s story with an unforgettable (and hilariouslyuncomfortable) first meeting. Their chemistry is immediate but unexpected, and this talk show moment will definitely be something neither of them forgets. Buckle up—this is only the beginning! Let me know what you think! 😊💛

The air in the greenroom was stuffy, the leather couch sticking to Joe's palms as he shifted uncomfortably. A half-empty bottle of water sat on the glass table in front of him, condensation pooling around its base. He glanced at his phone—thirty minutes until showtime. Thirty minutes until he would be paraded out in front of a live studio audience like some kind of trained animal, expected to perform and charm and be witty.

He knew when he signed up to be a professional football player that there would be specific commitments he'd be uncomfortable with. At the top of that list? Talk show interviews. Yet, here he was, just weeks after his team's heartbreaking Super Bowl loss, sitting under the fluorescent lights of a Tonight Show greenroom, mentally preparing himself to face Jimmy Fallon and millions of viewers.

Joe ran a hand through his hair, carefully styled by the show's hair and makeup team despite his protests that he "looked fine." In his navy blue varsity-style sweater with white collar, dark blue pants, and silver Converse sneakers, he felt more comfortable than he would have in a suit and tie. He liked to keep things casual, understated—nothing that would draw unnecessary attention. His personal style was cool and effortlessly stylish, and thankfully his stylist had allowed him to wear his own clothes rather than forcing him into formal attire for this appearance.

"Ten minutes, Mr. Burrow," a production assistant called, poking her head through the door with a clipboard pressed to her chest. "Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?"

"I'm good," Joe said, forcing a polite smile. "Thanks."

As the door closed again, he exhaled heavily. Why had he agreed to this? It wasn't that he disliked Jimmy—by all accounts, the host was a decent guy. But there was something about these talk shows that made Joe feel exposed, vulnerable. Football was different. On the field, he was in control. He knew the plays, understood the game, could anticipate the defense's moves. But talk shows? They were unpredictable. And Joe Burrow didn't do unpredictable if he could help it.

His phone buzzed with a text from his mom: *Good luck tonight! We're all watching!*

Great. More pressure.

The same PA appeared again, this time with more urgency. "Mr. Burrow? We're ready for you."

Joe stood, straightening his sweater and taking one last deep breath. Game face on. Just like preparing to take the field, except the arena was a brightly lit stage, and the opponents were awkward questions and his own social anxiety.

As he followed the PA through the maze of corridors, the dull roar of the audience grew louder. The studio was packed, every seat filled, the energy palpable even from backstage. A makeup artist rushed over for a final touch-up, dabbing powder on his forehead with practiced efficiency.

"You're on after the monologue," the stage manager explained, positioning Joe just offstage. "When Jimmy introduces you, just walk out, wave to the audience, and take a seat on the couch."

Joe nodded, his throat suddenly dry. Simple enough.

The show's theme music blared, and Joe could see Jimmy bound onto the stage, his trademark enthusiasm drawing immediate cheers from the audience. As the host launched into his monologue, Joe tried to focus on his breathing, on the solid ground beneath his feet, on anything but the fact that in a few minutes, he'd be on national television.

The audience's laughter ebbed and flowed with Jimmy's jokes, a few about the Super Bowl making Joe wince internally. Still too soon.

"Our first guest tonight is one of the NFL's brightest stars," Jimmy was saying now, his voice cutting through Joe's thoughts. "Quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals, please welcome Joe Burrow!"

The audience erupted, and Joe stepped onto the stage, the bright lights momentarily blinding him. He raised a hand in greeting, mustering a smile as he crossed to Jimmy, exchanged a brief handshake and half-hug, then settled onto the couch.

"Joe Burrow!" Jimmy exclaimed, as if they were old friends reuniting after years apart. "Man, it's great to have you here. How are you feeling after the Super Bowl? You guys played an incredible game."

And so it began—the usual questions about the season, about his teammates, about his plans for next year. Joe fell into the familiar rhythm of athlete interviews, giving just enough to seem engaged without revealing anything too personal. Always polite, occasionally funny, but careful. Measured. The Joe Burrow the public knew and the media expected.

Jimmy was mid-monologue when Joe realized this was going to be far worse than he thought. The host's expression shifted into something mischievous, a clear signal that the carefully structured interview was about to veer off course.

"So, Joe, we're going to play a little game tonight. I think you're going to love it. Or hate it. I don't know—you tell me after."

Joe's shoulders tensed, his fingers curling imperceptibly into the couch cushion beneath him. This wasn't part of the prep his publicist had gone over. "Uh... okay?" he managed, already feeling a cold sweat forming at the base of his neck.

"It's called Love Match. It's simple—I'll show you two people, and you pick who you'd rather hang out with. No pressure, totally harmless."

The audience tittered with anticipation, and Joe felt his pulse quicken. He hated these kinds of segments—the ones designed to create viral moments at the expense of guests' dignity. But there was no graceful way to refuse now, not with the cameras rolling and millions watching.

Joe wiped his palms on his jeans, the denim rough against his clammy hands. He was already regretting saying yes to this interview, already calculating how he'd face his teammates after whatever embarrassment was about to unfold. "Sure, let's do it," he muttered, earning knowing laughter from the audience who clearly recognized his discomfort.

Jimmy grinned and turned to the screen behind them, clearly enjoying himself. "Alright, first up—Bella Hadid or Riley Carter?"

Joe blinked, the name triggering an immediate reaction he couldn't control. Riley Carter. The name hit him like a freight train, derailing his carefully maintained composure. He knew her. Well, he didn't know her, but he knew *of* her. The lead singer of The Rambles, a band he'd been following since his college days. Her voice had been the soundtrack to some of his most significant moments—draft night, his first NFL win, even the quiet moments on the team bus when he needed to center himself.

It was more than just appreciating her music. There was something about her that had always caught his attention. The raw honesty in her lyrics, the way she carried herself in interviews, a confidence that seemed effortless and real. She was stunning too—blonde hair that fell in perfect waves, piercing blue eyes that always seemed to be looking right through you, a smile that could light up a room. It was a crush he'd been keeping to himself for a long time, not even sharing it with teammates during those late-night conversations when everyone else revealed their celebrity fantasies.

"Uh..." He shifted in his seat, stalling as his mind raced. He could lie, pick Bella Hadid like most guys probably would. The safe choice. The expected answer. But something made him hesitate. "Riley Carter," he finally said, the name feeling strange to say out loud in this context.

The audience cheered, and Jimmy's eyebrows shot up in exaggerated surprise. "Interesting! Alright, Riley Carter or Zendaya?"

Joe gave a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck as he realized he was now committed to this path. "Riley Carter."

"Oh, wow, she's on a roll!" Jimmy teased, clearly enjoying Joe's discomfort. "Alright, Riley or Kendall Jenner?"

Joe shook his head and smiled to himself, resigned to his fate. If he was going to be embarrassed on national TV, he might as well be honest. "Still Riley."

Jimmy leaned back in his chair, feigning shock as the audience's cheers grew louder. "Well, folks, I think we've found the most loyal man in Hollywood. Joe, it seems like Riley Carter's got your full attention!"

Joe tried to laugh it off, though he could feel the heat rising in his face, the telltale warmth that he knew meant he was turning crimson. "Yeah, I guess so," he managed, trying to seem casual despite the fact that his heart was pounding against his ribcage.

Jimmy glanced offstage with a sly grin that immediately set off alarm bells in Joe's head. That look—he'd seen it before on other talk shows. It was the look that preceded the ambush, the surprise that made for great TV but terrible personal experiences.

"Well, that's convenient because—surprise—I happen to know Riley personally. In fact, I invited her to the show tonight. Everyone, please welcome Riley Carter!"

The audience roared, a wall of sound that seemed to fade into the background as Joe's world narrowed to a single point. This couldn't be happening. His private admiration—not even admitted to his closest friends—was about to be thrust into the spotlight in the most mortifying way possible.

And then she was there, emerging from the wings, walking toward him with the easy grace he'd only seen in music videos and concert footage. Riley appeared from backstage, looking effortlessly stunning in a white silk crop top and high-waisted flared pants that accentuated her figure perfectly. Her blonde hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, framing a face that was even more beautiful in person than on screen. The studio lights caught the subtle highlights in her hair, the gleam of her simple gold earrings, and the soft pink of her lips.

Joe's stomach dropped, a physical sensation like missing a step on a staircase. Pure, unadulterated panic coursed through him as the distance between them closed. He shot to his feet, operating on autopilot, his mom's voice in his head reminding him to stand when a woman entered the room.

She approached with a smile that seemed genuinely warm rather than the practiced expression of a celebrity forced into an uncomfortable situation. Up close, Joe noticed details he'd never been able to see on screens—the light dusting of freckles across her nose, the striking blue of her eyes, the small scar near her left eyebrow.

"Hi, how are you?" she asked as she leaned in for a quick hug, her voice softer in person than he'd expected.

The scent of her perfume—something subtle and warm, like vanilla and bergamot—briefly surrounded him as they embraced. Joe's brain short-circuited, processing the surreal reality that Riley Carter—*the* Riley Carter—was hugging him on national television after he'd just admitted to basically having a crush on her.

"Good. Huge fan, by the way," Joe managed, his voice slightly shaky, aware of how utterly inadequate the words were. *Huge fan*? Could he sound any more like a cliché?

"Thanks," Riley said warmly, showing no sign that she found this situation as bizarre as he did. She took her seat on the couch beside him, close enough that he could see the delicate gold bracelet on her wrist, could smell that subtle perfume again.

Jimmy clapped his hands together, clearly thrilled with the success of his surprise. "Alright, Joe, Riley, this is already off to a great start. Riley, I hope you don't mind, but I've been telling Joe all about you."

Riley turned to Joe, her brow raised playfully, a hint of mischief in her striking blue eyes. "Oh, really? Should I be worried?"

Joe chuckled nervously, hyperaware of the cameras capturing every expression, every movement. "Probably."

Jimmy laughed, leaning forward in his chair. "Joe's been very consistent tonight, Riley. Picked you over everyone. Kendall Jenner? Nope. Zendaya? Nope. It was Riley Carter every time. You're basically his MVP."

Joe fought the urge to slide down into the couch and disappear. This was beyond embarrassing—it was excruciating. Having his private thoughts broadcast not just to an audience but to the very person those thoughts centered on made him want to evaporate on the spot.

But Riley seemed to take it all in stride, grinning as she looked over at Joe with what appeared to be genuine amusement rather than discomfort. "Well, loyalty is important, right?"

Her easy response gave Joe a lifeline, something to grasp onto in this sea of mortification. "That's what I was going for," he replied, a small smile finding its way to his lips despite the circumstances. Maybe, just maybe, he could survive this.

Jimmy leaned forward, his voice dropping as if sharing a secret, though of course his microphone ensured the entire studio audience—and millions of viewers—could hear every word. "You know, Riley, Joe told me earlier that this is his worst nightmare."

Joe groaned, running a hand down his face, wishing he'd never confided that particular fear to the host during their pre-show chat. "Jimmy, don't do this to me," he pleaded, but there was no stopping the train now.

Riley laughed, the sound light and musical, clearly enjoying his discomfort but not in a malicious way. "Oh, really? And why's that, Joe?"

He glanced at her, his cheeks tinged red, feeling like he was back in high school being called on in class when he hadn't done the reading. "Uh... because now I look like a total idiot?"

"You're doing fine," she said, her voice soft and reassuring in a way that suggested she understood exactly how uncomfortable he was.

Jimmy clapped his hands, clearly pleased with the chemistry unfolding before him. "See? She thinks you're doing fine. That's progress! Alright, we've got to take a quick commercial break, but don't go anywhere—we'll be back with more from Joe Burrow and Riley Carter!"

As the red light on the main camera switched off, signaling they were no longer live, Joe exhaled heavily, his shoulders slumping slightly with the temporary reprieve. The studio lights remained bright, the audience still watching expectantly, but at least they had a moment's pause from the national spotlight.

The camera crew moved into position for the commercial break, adjusting equipment and checking angles. Jimmy turned his attention to a producer who had approached with a clipboard, leaving Joe and Riley with a moment to themselves on the couch.

Riley leaned slightly toward Joe, her voice low enough that only he could hear. "So, this is your worst nightmare, huh?"

The proximity, the subtle scent of her perfume, the direct eye contact—it was overwhelming in the best possible way. Joe exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You have no idea," he admitted, surprised by his own honesty.

She laughed softly, the sound more intimate now that it wasn't performative for an audience. "You know, I think it's sweet. I mean, you didn't know this was going to happen, right?"

Joe met her eyes, grateful for the understanding he found there. "Not at all. I thought I was just playing a dumb game for laughs. I didn't think you'd actually be here."

"Well, surprise," she said, smiling, a genuine warmth in her expression that made his chest tighten strangely. "It's not so bad, is it?"

Joe shrugged, a small grin tugging at his lips despite himself. "It could be worse. You could've said I was weird or something."

Riley tilted her head thoughtfully, her eyes studying his face in a way that made him feel simultaneously exposed and seen. "Weird? No. Nervous? Definitely. But it's kind of endearing."

The compliment caught him off guard, and Joe chuckled, running a hand through his carefully styled hair, probably ruining the makeup team's hard work. "Yeah, well, it's not every day you get ambushed by your celebrity crush on national TV."

The words escaped before he could filter them, his usual carefully maintained guard momentarily lowered by the surreal situation and Riley's disarming presence. As soon as he said it, he wished he could take it back, stuff the admission back into the private corner of his mind where it belonged.

Riley blinked, caught off guard by his honesty, before her lips curled into a slow smile that transformed her entire face. Something playful and pleased sparked in her blue eyes. "Celebrity crush, huh?"

Joe's face turned bright red, the heat spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. He looked away, focusing on a random spot on the stage floor. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"Just a little," she teased, her voice laced with amusement but no judgment. "But don't worry—I'm flattered."

Before Joe could respond, Jimmy returned, clapping his hands together with renewed energy. "Alright, we're back, folks! Let's jump right back into it!"

The red light on the camera blinked on, and just like that, they were live again. Joe straightened slightly, trying to regain his composure as the interview continued.

The rest of the segment flowed more easily than Joe could have anticipated. The initial shock had worn off, and there was something about Riley's presence—the way she effortlessly filled silences, laughed at the right moments, and occasionally glanced at him with what seemed like genuine interest—that made the experience almost... enjoyable?

Riley talked about her new album and upcoming tour with her band, her passion evident in the way she leaned forward, hands animated as she described the creative process. Joe found himself watching her more than he should, captivated by the little details—the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was thinking, the slight crinkle around her eyes when she smiled genuinely.

When the conversation turned to him, Joe surprised himself by opening up about his plans for the offseason, including a long-overdue vacation in the Bahamas with his family. Normally, he kept such details vague, offering just enough to satisfy the question without revealing anything too personal. But something about the night—maybe the fact that his carefully constructed wall had already been breached—made it easier to share.

Despite his earlier nerves, Joe found himself relaxing more as the conversation went on. Riley laughed at his jokes, even the bad ones, and they shared a few lingering glances that left him wondering if she might actually be into him too—a possibility so far-fetched he could barely allow himself to consider it.

By the time the segment ended, Joe felt almost disappointed. He'd survived what he thought would be a nightmare, only to find it had transformed into something unexpectedly pleasant.

Jimmy stood to thank them both, his expression satisfied—he'd gotten exactly the kind of segment producers dream about. "Alright, let's give it up for Joe Burrow and Riley Carter, everyone! Thanks for being such good sports tonight!"

"Thanks for having us," Riley said with a bright smile, the picture of graciousness.

Joe, finding a bit of his usual humor despite the circumstances, added, "Yeah, this was... something. But I think I survived."

Jimmy laughed, already angling for a follow-up story. "You did great, Joe. Just make sure I get invited to the wedding someday."

The audience roared with approval, and Joe shook his head, laughing despite himself. "Yeah, we'll see about that."

As the cameras stopped rolling and the show moved to its next segment, Riley turned to him, her expression unreadable for a moment. Joe braced himself for the letdown, for the polite but distant thank you and goodbye that would signal the end of this strange interaction.

Instead, she surprised him. "See you backstage?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of hopefulness that sent a rush of something warm through his chest.

Joe nodded, trying not to look too eager. "Yeah. Definitely."

As they both rose and made their way off the stage, Joe felt a strange mixture of emotions—lingering embarrassment from the ambush, adrenaline from the live performance, and something else. Something that felt dangerously like hope.

Joe was a private person; this was something he worked very hard to maintain. Despite his career, he tried to keep his life as normal as possible. He carefully separated Joe Burrow the quarterback from Joe Burrow the person. He limited his social media presence, declined most endorsement deals that would put him in the spotlight more than necessary, and cultivated a small, tight-knit circle of trusted friends.

So, as he left the stage after what was probably the most humiliating interview of his life, Joe was crossing his fingers that Riley wasn't just pretending not to be weirded out by the whole thing. If she was weirded out, he'd have to retire immediately, move to a remote island, and never show his face in public again.

Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, but he was certain of one thing: he would never agree to another talk show again. No matter how much his agent insisted it was "good for his brand."

The backstage area was a maze of corridors, production equipment, and busy staff members. Joe nodded politely to various crew members as he made his way through the hallways, his signature navy varsity sweater with white collar and blue pants making him easily recognizable despite his attempts to slip by unnoticed. He grabbed his duffel bag from where his assistant had left it backstage, slung it over his shoulder, and considered his next move.

The logical thing would be to head straight back to his hotel, call his agent to complain about the ambush, and try to forget the whole embarrassing episode. But the thought of leaving without talking to Riley again felt wrong somehow.

As Joe rounded a corner, he spotted a sign with Riley's name on a dressing room door at the end of the hallway. He paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Inside, he was a mess of nerves and uncertainty, but outwardly, he maintained the same cool composure he carried onto the field before big games. It was a skill he'd perfected years ago - never let them see you sweat.

Meanwhile, back on the stage, Riley turned to Jimmy with a playful but pointed glare as soon as the cameras were off.

"Alright, Jimmy, what the hell was that?" she asked, crossing her arms with a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated.

Jimmy laughed, throwing up his hands in mock defense, his expression utterly unrepentant. "Hey, don't blame me! I wasn't planning for things to go that well. I just thought it would be a fun little game—Joe's the one who went all-in on picking you every single time."

Riley shook her head, clearly flustered but unable to maintain real anger at the host's matchmaking attempt. "I mean, yeah, but still. You didn't warn me this was going to turn into a matchmaking ambush on live television."

Jimmy leaned in with a knowing grin, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Come on, admit it—you were into it. He was practically blushing the entire time! And don't think I didn't notice the way you kept sneaking glances at him."

The observation hit closer to home than Riley was comfortable acknowledging. She'd been genuinely charmed by Joe's obvious nervousness, by the unfiltered honesty that had slipped out when he admitted to his crush. It was refreshing—most men she met in the industry were all polished lines and practiced confidence. Joe's authenticity had caught her off guard in the best possible way.

"Jimmy," Riley groaned, wanting to end the conversation before the host could see too much in her reaction. "I am never coming on this show again."

"Oh, sure," he teased, clearly not believing her for a second. "Just make sure to thank me in your wedding toast."

Riley rolled her eyes, already heading for the door, but she couldn't quite suppress the smile that threatened to break through. "Goodbye, Jimmy."

"Goodbye, Riley! Love you!" Jimmy called after her with a laugh that followed her down the corridor.

As soon as Riley stepped into her dressing room, she was ambushed by her publicist, Jesse, who had been watching the segment on the monitor and was practically bouncing with excitement.

"Riley! Oh my God, that was amazing!" Jesse exclaimed, her dark curls bobbing as she gestured enthusiastically. "The way you two kept sneaking glances at each other? And the blushing? I mean, seriously, the entire audience was eating it up!"

Riley groaned, collapsing onto the plush couch as she covered her face with her hands, the cool metal of her rings pressing against her warm skin. "Please tell me it wasn't as bad as it felt."

"Bad? Are you kidding me? That was the stuff rom coms are made of," Jesse said, sitting on the armrest of the couch with a dramatic flourish, her tailored pantsuit crinkling slightly. "You were charming, he was adorable—it was perfect. Social media is already buzzing, by the way. 'Riley Carter and Joe Burrow' is trending."

Riley peeked out from behind her hands, narrowing her eyes at her publicist and longtime friend. "Seriously? That fast?"

"Uh, yeah." Jesse held up her phone, the screen illuminated with a flood of tweets and Instagram posts. "The second he turned bright red when you walked out, it was over for him. Everyone loves it. But forget Twitter for a second—did you see the way he looked at you? Riley, the man is smitten."

The thought sent a strange flutter through Riley's stomach, one she hadn't felt in a long time. She'd met plenty of attractive men over the years—fellow musicians, actors, models—but there was something about Joe Burrow's unassuming charm, the way he seemed almost reluctant to be in the spotlight despite his career, that intrigued her.

"Oh my God, Jesse, stop," Riley said, half-laughing, half-groaning as she pushed herself up from the couch.

Jesse smirked, smoothing her blazer as she stood. "Alright, fine. I'll stop. But only if you march down to his dressing room right now and give him your number."

Riley's eyes widened, a rush of unexpected nerves flooding her system. "What? No. That's not happening."

Despite her words, a part of her considered it. What was the harm? If nothing else, she'd have a funny story about the time she gave her number to Joe Burrow after Jimmy Fallon tried to set them up on national television.

"Okay, fine," Jesse said, crossing her arms with a determined expression that Riley recognized all too well. "Then he can come here. Either way, this is happening, because the energy between you two was insane, and if you don't do something about it, I will."

Riley opened her mouth to argue, to tell Jesse that she was being ridiculous, that whatever chemistry the audience thought they saw was just the product of an awkward situation handled with mutual grace. But before she could get the words out, there was a soft knock at the door.

The sound sliced through the room like a thunderclap despite its gentleness. Both women froze, staring at the door as if it might reveal its secrets without being opened.

Jesse's eyes lit up, and she gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Holy shit. What if it's him?"

"Stop," Riley hissed, suddenly feeling very aware of how fast her heart was beating. She sat frozen for a moment, her stomach doing somersaults, caught between hoping it was Joe and hoping it was literally anyone else.

"What are you waiting for? Go open it!" Jesse urged, waving her toward the door with frantic gestures.aving her toward the door with frantic gestures.

Taking a deep breath to calm her inexplicably racing heart, Riley stood, smoothed her hands down her pants, and crossed to the door. Her fingers hesitated on the handle for just a second before she pulled it open.

Standing in the hallway was Joe Burrow, his navy blue varsity-style sweater with white collar, dark blue pants, and white Converse sneakers making him look effortlessly cool. His stance exuded quiet confidence - one hand casually in his pocket, shoulders relaxed, posture perfect - the same easy self-assurance he displayed walking through stadium tunnels before games.

Inside, Joe's panic was at maximum level, his heart pounding against his ribs like it was trying to escape, thoughts racing through his mind at lightning speed. But none of this showed on his face. Outwardly, he maintained perfect composure, the same unflappable demeanor he'd perfected for high-pressure game situations. He leaned slightly against the doorframe with practiced nonchalance, his expression giving away nothing of the chaos inside.

"Hey," Joe said, his voice smooth and controlled, with just the right balance of confidence and warmth. "I, uh, just wanted to come by and say I'm really sorry about what happened out there. Jimmy kind of blindsided me."

Riley leaned against the doorframe, a small smile tugging at her lips. She was conscious of Jesse hovering just out of sight, no doubt drinking in every word of this interaction for future teasing material. "You don't have to apologize. Honestly, I thought it was kind of sweet."

Joe blinked, relief flickering across his face, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "You did?"

"Yeah," she said, her smile widening. "I mean, it was awkward, sure, but in a cute way. You handled it way better than I would've."

Joe laughed softly, glancing down at his shoes—expensive-looking leather loafers that somehow didn't seem like his style. "Well, I seriously considered running for the exit at one point."

Riley laughed, the sound genuine and unrestrained. "I believe that."

The moment felt lighter now, the initial awkwardness dissolving into something more comfortable. Joe looked back at her, a playful glint in his eye that she hadn't noticed during the interview. "So... I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that Jimmy was basically narrating my humiliation out there, but you seemed to handle it like a pro."

"Are you kidding? I was dying," Riley said, grinning. "You're the one who stayed cool the whole time."

Joe tilted his head, raising an eyebrow in a way that transformed his face, adding a mischievous quality to his otherwise clean-cut appearance. "Pretty sure sweating through my shirt doesn't count as staying cool."

Riley laughed again, shaking her head, one hand reaching up to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Fair enough. But still—it was fun. In a totally ridiculous way."

Joe rubbed the back of his neck, his smile softening into something more genuine, less performative. "Yeah, ridiculous sounds about right."

There was a beat of quiet between them, not awkward, but charged in the best way. The kind of silence that felt like its own conversation. Finally, Joe broke it, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"So, uh..." He hesitated, then let out a small laugh that betrayed his nervousness. "Man, I'm terrible at this."

"At what?" Riley asked, tilting her head, though she had a pretty good idea of what was coming next.

Joe took a breath, his gaze meeting hers directly, a determined set to his jaw like he was facing down a defensive line rather than asking a simple question. "I was wondering if maybe you'd want to grab dinner sometime. While you're in town, I mean."

Riley blinked, caught off guard but pleasantly surprised by his directness. She'd expected more hesitation, maybe even a non-committal suggestion to "keep in touch." "Dinner?"

"Yeah," Joe said quickly, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets, his eyes searching her face for clues to her thoughts. "No pressure or anything. I just thought... if you're free, maybe we could—"

"I'd love that," Riley interrupted, her smile soft but genuine. The decision felt right, spontaneous in a way she'd been trying to embrace more lately.

Joe paused, clearly not expecting that answer, his eyes widening slightly. "Really?"

"Really," Riley said with a small laugh, amused by his surprise. Was it so hard to believe she'd want to have dinner with him?

Joe's face lit up, a smile spreading across his features that transformed him completely. Gone was the careful, controlled athlete from the interview; in his place was someone younger, more open, almost boyishly pleased. He pulled his phone from his pocket, unlocking it before handing it to her. "Here, put your number in?"

Riley took the phone with a nod, quickly typing in her number before handing it back to him. Their fingers brushed in the exchange, a brief moment of contact that shouldn't have registered but somehow did.

"There you go," she said, her tone teasing but kind.

Joe stared at the screen for a moment, her name now sitting there in his contacts, as if he couldn't quite believe what had just happened. "Thanks. I, uh... I'll text you soon. For real."

"I'll hold you to that," Riley said with a smile that felt more genuine than most she'd given that day.

Joe hesitated for a moment, a brief internal debate playing out in his eyes, before he leaned in and pressed a light kiss to her cheek. The gesture was sweet, unexpected, and over almost as soon as it began. "Goodnight, Riley."

The brief contact left a warm spot on her skin, and Riley found herself momentarily at a loss for words. "Goodnight, Joe," she managed, her voice warm despite her surprise.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Riley leaned back against it with a soft sigh, her lips curling into a smile she couldn't fight if she tried. Behind her, Jesse let out a gleeful squeal that Riley chose to ignore, too caught up in replaying the last few minutes in her head.

A talk show ambush, a mutual admission of attraction, and a dinner date—all in one night. Not at all how she'd expected her evening to go when she'd agreed to appear on The Tonight Show.

But as she touched her fingers lightly to the spot where Joe's lips had brushed her cheek, Riley found herself looking forward to what might come next.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

hii can you pretty please write a little thing about soft sex w/ ej & hoodie? separately please :3

i am a huge fan of your works & a while ago i sent in something when i was upset about how ej would hug. i loved it and you did a phenomenal job in writing it<3

have a lovely day/night and take care of yourself!!!

much love <3

I remember that! :) I'm glad you liked it! I hope you thoroughly enjoy this as well! Also, I wasn't sure if you meant specifically Hoodie or if you wanted Brian, so I actually did a blend of both <3 I love writing stuff like this, so I hope you enjoy, have a wonderful timezone :)

EJ:

I know I write EJ as a man that likes to fuck and likes to fuck hard, but this man is also a connoisseur of softness and gentleness in all forms in a relationship. I feel like Jack's absolute, all-time favorite form of sex is cuddle sex. He loves cuddling you in general because he constantly seeks out warmth and your body is just oh so warm, so this man is curled around you at practically all hours of the day. What better way to have some warm snuggles than with his cock buried deep inside of you at the same time?? He loves just spooning you from behind and either cock warming with you and just keeping himself in there, or moving in and out of you in slow, languid motions. I actually wrote this for kinktober, but he's also a fan of intercrural sex, where he's just fucking your thighs, and cuddling is the ultimate position to do that in as well. It doesn't really matter what you're doing, so long as he can have you gently cuddled up in his arms, that's all that matters to Jack. He'll trail languid kisses down your neck and shoulders, gently caress your skin with his hands in soothing motions, nuzzle his head into your body as soft hums come out of him, until he's purring in content with his tail swishing back and forth behind him. If he's feeling especially sleepy you'll have to force your way out of his arms to get him to get up and grab a towel to clean the two of you up, because otherwise the sweet boy is just gonna fall asleep right after with you wrapped up in his arms and refuse to let you go. I feel like he'll eventually just start keeping a towel right behind him so he can grab it, clean you up, and fall asleep without having to remove you from his arms. Unless you get him particularly riled up and rough, softness is his default and preferred mode for sex, and it becomes quite easy and common for the two of you to transition from regular cuddles into sex.

Brian/Hoodie:

Sex with Brian is soft by default. This man doesn't have a rough bone in his body, and he does whatever he can to lovingly bring you to your peak every single time you have sex with him. There's no fucking with Brian, just making love. He loves covering you in kisses, gently rocking into your body at whatever pace you'd prefer from him, and always showering you with praise and affection. Smiles and giggles are common when you're having sex with him, and it's a very lighthearted, loving experience. Brian I think also loves cuddle sex, but he prefers it from a position where he can see your face while he's doing it, with you resting in his arms, your bodies pressed against each other while he presses passionate kisses onto your lips. Tangle your fingers into his hair in a position like that and you'll have him turning into a puddle against you in no time. Hoodie, however, is not as familiar with soft sex and is the one with rough bones in his body. Hoodie isn't used to emotions and feeling things, so it's easier for him to be rough when he fucks you instead of soft and loving like Brian, but he does try his best for you. It's cute when he starts trying at first to be gentle with you. He doesn't know where to put his hands, or where to look (as he's too shy in the beginning to look you in the eyes while he's trying to be affectionate with you), and I feel like you'd have to guide him through it. Hoodie's movements are still rougher in general, his hips snapping into yours, his hands gripping a bit tightly, but you can tell he's intentionally treating you softly. Sure, his hips are pounding into you, but his lips are feather soft across your skin, and whenever he gropes at you his eyes flick up to yours to make sure his movements are okay, that you're enjoying yourself, that you want him to keep going just as much as he does. He may be rough, but he wants you to enjoy yourself as much as possible with him.

[orikixx]

Blueprints & Heartbeats (9/?)

Part: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Featuring: Nanami Kento

Cw: fem reader, wc 2.8k words, not proofread

Summary: academic rivals to lovers! a mixup in the architecture group project forces you to team up with Nanami Kento, the serious and stoic student. But maybe, he isn’t as brooding as you thought?

Author's note: to the anon who motivated me to continue this.. thank you😭 I’ve been working on it for a while so I hope you guys like this💕

It’s almost 4 pm now, and Nanami is mentally beating himself up over whether he went too far, opening himself up like that to you. He’s pacing around his dorm, nervously eyeing his palette, colorful oil paints laid out in neat, deliberate swatches, a few small brushes and a glass of water waiting nearby.

You knock on his door, a little hesitant. It’s not as if you haven’t been here before, but this time, it feels… different. The air surrounding you is buzzing, barely able to contain your excitement as your foot impatiently taps against the pavement. “Wonder what’s taking him so long,” you murmur, raising your hand to knock again, yet this time, it lands on his broad chest.

“Good afternoon, y/n. Sorry for the wait.” The moment you look up at him, there’s a big smile plastered on your face, and you happily step inside. Nanami looks at you, dumbfounded, until he finally closes the door. “You’re such a dork, Kenny”. He sighs at that, trying to be as little awkward as possible when you hug him, your small frame lost in his.

Nanami feels like he’ll never get used to you, even as you sit on the stool he’s set in front of his own, looking like you belong exactly in his dorm room. “You’re staring so much, didn’t even start drawing me yet!” “I’m.. figuring out your proportions.” He mentally curses himself for that, knowing that with the amount of time he’s spent observing you, he remembers every single detail about your face.

Suddenly, you light up. “Do you need me to do any specific poses? I can think of a few.. interesting ones”. Nanami groans loudly, causing you to giggle.

“You’re so uptight again, is something wrong?” Your eyebrows furrowed, a small pout on your lips, as the man in front of you suddenly won’t take his eyes off the canvas.

Nanami feels blush creeping up his neck, and he remembers his conversation with Gojo, thinking about how maybe he should get over himself and ask you out today.

“I’m all good. You just look very captivating today, even more than usual.”

“You can’t just say that!”

Nanami is unsure of what to respond to that, having mustered up all his courage just to tell you that last sentence. He blushes furiously now, picking up his graphite pencil and starting to roughly sketch your features. When his eyes finally dart in your direction, he can tell you’re blushing as well.

You try relaxing your face from your former pout at his sternness, not wanting to make this assignment any harder for him. “So.. do you have any other friends, that I don’t know of?” You hear Nanami sucking in a breath, and try your hardest to keep a natural expression.

“Not really, no. You’re the only one who stayed long enough to make me open up.”

You smile at that, though it’s a rather sad statement. “Would you mind keeping that expression for me?” Nanami’s eyebrows are now furrowed, staring at your face with concentration.

“The smile?”

“Yes, it makes your eyes appear lighter.”

You smile harder at that, and when Nanami finally looks at the canvas, picking up a small brush, you can see a small smile forming on his lips as well.

Nanami feels like his heart might explode out of his chest. The girl he’s been wanting for… well, too long, is currently giving him fuck me eyes without even realizing it. He tries focusing on the drawing instead, soft oil strokes on white canvas, when you speak again.

“You think it’s time for another brainrot lesson?” Immediately, a loud groan follows, making you laugh. “Whatever you want, y/n. Just stay still.” “Whatever you say, Kenny.”

You ponder for a moment, thinking about which brainrot should you teach the poor man this time. “Alright kento, you got two options yeah? When John Pork is calling, do you pick up or not?” “Who is John Pork?” Nanami sounds so serious it scares you, and you hold your laugh in.

“I’ll show you later. Now, since we’ve got plenty of time, what do you know about low taper fade?” “As far as I’m concerned, it’s a haircut, correct?” “You sound terrified, Kento”. Nanami gets up from his stool, now towering over you.

“Such a bratty little thing.” His fingers come up to trace your cheek, almost, before he stops himself. “Stay just like this for a moment,” Nanami says, surprisingly soft. You, of course, obey, looking up at his face, body looming over yours.

Nanami observes your face, trying to etch it into his soul. “Can I..” he murmurs softly, rough fingers brushing against your jaw. You nod, and he gently traces your cheek. You can feel blush spreading all over your neck, surely dusting your cheeks pink.

“Kento?” You look up at him, heart thrumming so loud he must be able to hear it as well. “This is necessary for the process, y/n.” He whispers that, hazel eyes lingering on your lips as his fingers trace your temple.

Your face is on fire now, eyes gleaming as you try catching Nanami’s gaze, yet his eyes are glued to your lips. “You know, you could kiss me if you want to that bad,” you say softly.

In just a moment, his hands are off you, and he’s facing away. “Fuck, too far? I didn’t mean to Kento, I was just-“

“For the love of god y/n, you sit here looking like a fucking angel, and then you say these things..”

Nanami pinches the bridge of his nose, and you sit there, speechless, for the first time.

“You.. what?” Nanami sighs, finally turning back to look at you. “It would be so wrong of me, to kiss you without even asking you out first..” You stand up, feeling his warm body almost touching yours, and you sigh.

“Well then, you better ask me out Kento, we don’t have all day”. Nanami notices, of course, that although you put on a confident front, your fingers nervously twirl the edge of your tank top, and your eyes are somewhat worried, looking up at him.

He tries to stay composed, ears bright red when he takes your hand is his bigger one, bringing it to his chest.

“Would you like to go on a date with me, y/n? I would love to take you to out, if you would allow it.” He braces himself for rejection, even though he knows you feel the same, as your big, gleaming eyes now happily squint at him.

“Fuck yeah, took you long enough, silly boy,” you say happily, arms immediately wrapping around him. You smile so hard your face hurts, burying your face Nanami’s chest, squealing like a little girl until you feel his hands on your shoulders, gently prying you away. You pout at him, crossing your arms and huffing as he chuckles. “Now..” he murmurs, leaning down and finally kissing you.

You stay still for a second, caught by surprise, before your hands immediately tangle in his hair, latching onto his lips like your life depends on it. One of his hands cups your cheek, moving lower to trace your the curve of your jaw before settling at your nape, drawing you deeper into the kiss.

The kiss is slow, deliberate, a taste of something sweet, long desired. Nanami’s lips are firm and surprisingly soft, tasting of coffee and something that’s just uniquely him. You can’t help yourself but bite on his lower lip, making him gasp and let go of the kiss.

You whine at the loss of his warmth, hands moving from his blond locks to grip onto his broad shoulders. Standing on your toes, you whisper in his ear- “You’re so annoying, I barely got to taste you”. Nanami blushes furiously, his hand wandering down to squeeze your hips.

“How am I the annoying one, when you sit here, looking at me with these tantalizing eyes?”

It’s your turn to blush, burying your face in his chest again. “Ugh, you have to stop doing that Kento!” You whine, and he chuckles, kissing the crown of your head.

“Come on, I need to finish your portrait.” With a sigh, you slump back onto the stool, and Nanami sits down at his. He picks up the brush again, continuing the gentle strokes on the canvas before speaking again.

“I’m sorry if I have been.. harsh, with the kiss. It’s a little embarrassing, but I have been craving you for so long, I couldn’t help myself.”

You smile, using all your willpower to not get up and kiss him again. “It’s alright Kento, really, I wanted you for a while as well,” you say, happily watching his cheeks changing shades of red.

“I can’t focus when you tell me things like that y/n. It makes me want to.. never mind.”

“You’re so shy it’s almost funny,” you say with a giggle, making him groan. “Do me a favor, just this once, and talk about anything else, please?”

You can’t say no to his defeated face, so then Nanami quietly cleans his paint brush, listening to you ramble about some show you’ve started watching recently, and how you think he’d like it.

After about an hour of rambling on your side, and hums of agreement on his, the portrait is finished. Nanami carefully places the canvas aside, the oil paint still wet, sticking onto his fingers. It’s almost 6 pm now, and you remember promising Gojo you’d meet up later today. You get up from the stool, quietly walking to stand by Nanami as he washes his hands in the kitchen sink.

The smell of the paint lingers in air of his dorm room, and you sneakily wrap your hands around his waist, hugging him from behind. “Would you mind staying for a little while more?” “Can’t, I promised Satoru I’ll see him today,” you say, smiling when he turns around to look at you. You rest your chin on his chest, looking up at his chiseled face.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Will it be okay if I will pick you up at 7 pm for our date?” “Of course Kenny”. Nanami hums, and you let your body melt against his, his arms wrapping around your lower back as you savor the warmth.

“I can drop you off wherever you two are meeting, if you would like that.” “Awww, Kento you’re so mushy already, love that,” you say and giggle, laughing when he groans and buries his face in your hair. “Seriously though, I wouldn’t mind, thank you” and with that, you plant a small kiss on his cheek.

Still in his embrace, you pull out your phone, calling Gojo. You bicker for a couple minutes, eventually agreeing to meet up at some café downtown. When you hang up, Nanami is already there with his car keys in his hand.

“Are you ready to go? Or do you want to stop by your dorm first?”

“You’re too sweet Kento, and I’m good, we can head there now” you poke his nose before opening his dorm’s door, standing there as you wait for him to exit. “Ladies first,” you snicker with a small smile as he passes you, sighing and shaking his head disapprovingly. After he locks the door, he swiftly opens the passenger seat door for you, humming when you murmur a thank you.

Nanami gets in and starts the car, and once he’s on the highway, he puts his palm on your thigh, thumb brushing the soft skin. “I’m honestly surprised, I thought you’d only be driving in the 10 and 2 position,” you snicker and put your hand on top of his.

“Maybe I’m careful, but I can’t help myself when a beautiful woman is sitting right beside me.” You smile at that, stroking his palm as he stares at the road ahead. After a little while you get to the café, and Nanami pulls over just long enough for you to kiss him and say thanks. “Text me when you need pickup, okay?” “It’s okay, I’ll just walk ba-“ “Just text me.” You sigh, and with another kiss you part ways, as you see Gojo waiting for you at the entrance.

You sigh internally, knowing what’s about to come as you walk towards the white haired man. You approach him, and before even entering the place, he immediately jumps on you with a hug.

“What the fuck was that kiss? Girl you better tell me everything” Gojo almost yells that, and you quickly hush him down, walking inside.

After getting your matcha, and Gojo his overly sweet latte, you two sit down. “Okay so before I start you gotta promise not to yell again, I can’t have everyone here staring,” you say with an eye roll, and he eagerly nods. “Whatever you say, just fucking tell me already!”

You almost laugh at his whiney tone, before telling him about everything that happened with Nanami today. You can tell he’s having a hard time containing his excitement, and when you tell him that Nanami insisted on picking you up as well, he damn near cries.

“There’s no way, he’s definitely obsessed with you y/n” “Stop that, we just kissed!” You bury your face in your hands and whine, cheeks burning as you remember the feeling of Nanami’s lips on yours. “Either way, you clearly like him more than you let on,” Gojo says with a big grin.

“What’s up with that smile? You look creepy as fuck,” you snicker, watching him dramatically feign offense. “Can’t I be happy that my best friend finally got a normal boyfriend?” “He isn’t even my boyfriend yet!” You sigh, sipping on your matcha and leaning back in your chair.

“Oh you want him soooo bad, you’re just clueless to it idiot,” Gojo says, grinning again. You decide to stop fighting with him, and change the topic.

“Did you and Kento, like.. tell something to the professor? When you handled her?” You ask, your voice quieter now. “We did, I thought Nanami told you she won’t come near you again” you sigh, facepalming as you remember that night.

“He did, but we’re supposed to have a class with her tomorrow so I’m wondering how it’s gonna go..” Gojo sighs, grabbing his phone. “I’ll text him, we’ll find a way to handle it before class” he says reassuringly, shooting Nanami a quick text before putting the phone back down.

After another hour of the two of you yapping about absolutely everything, you decide it’s time to go. You send Nanami a text, asking if he’s still okay with picking you up, and he immediately replies that he’s on his way.

Gojo leans over the table, peeking over to read your texts. “Fucking lovebirds, I told you he’s obsessed!” Saying that grants him a smack on the head, making him huff and puff as you two walk outside, and he waits with you until Nanami gets there.

When his car pulls over, you both say goodbye with a quick hug, and you happily walk over to the car, getting in and landing a small kiss on Nanami’s cheek, much to Gojo’s delight, who’s still watching you and how flustered the man beside you gets.

“Thanks for coming Kento, you really didn’t have to,” you say softly, a big smile on your face. You feel like a kid, getting excited to see him when you’ve left his place only a couple hours ago, but you can’t help yourself.

“Of course y/n, it’s my pleasure. I want to make sure you get back safely.” He starts driving, and again puts his hand on your thigh. You don’t say anything this time, you simply play with his fingers for the entire drive. When he stops in front of your dorm, you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn around in your seat, now facing him.

“Have a good night Ken, hope you have sweet dreams”. You lean in, and he cups your cheeks, warm lips enveloping yours, and you whine into the kiss. His tongue prods at the seam of your lips, asking for entrance, one that you grant him, moaning softly as the muscle invades your mouth.

Fingers gripping his hair, you break the kiss, panting, your eyes gleaming. Nanami blushes, his breath eventually slowing down. “You too, pretty girl. I’ll see you before class.” You nod and hug him, and then leave the car, entering the dorm building.

You can hear him driving off, and enter your dorm room. You take a deep breath, and finally allow yourself to happily jump around and squeal happily. You can’t believe this, that Nanami actually did all of this just for you. The way he’s changed, everything he said today, sounding all too poetic coming out of his pretty lips.

You sigh dreamily, getting into your pjs, and comfortably cuddle under the thick blankets of your bed, wishing you had asked him to stay over. You may miss him already, which you find slightly embarrassing, but you know you’ll see him tomorrow morning, and you just can’t wait.

Divider credit: @soulari

Taglist: @yourname-exee @realalpacorn @zayuriluvs @galactacium @queenofthekill @nuhahani @nanamineedstherapy @des-todoroki @linaaeatsfamilies @darkstudentsaladbakery @sttaejoon-blog @sosole

[loonarmuunar]

Hey I did some speculation on the forgotten island’s geography..!!!! If you want you can use this for writing purposes perhaps. I dunno

Things that have been confirmed in game or otherwise:

island is north of Vaugarde. We can see in the map that most mentioned countries are very close to the equator, but the island is the closest.

It has TALL MOUNTAINS and BLACK SAND. This is IMPORTANT!!!

ANDDDD the country is really hot during the day and cold at night.

(Also the island is inspired by guadeloupe but I won’t be pulling anything from there)

Equator: the island is going to be hot, of course. It’s… honestly a toss up as to how humid the island would be. winds would also have an impact on this. It just depends. Lush, humid island, or dusty, dry island. You can pick your favorite! I like a very pretty green island…

All noted countries in the game (aside from ka bue) are close enough to the equator to be impacted by the tropical rain belt! (Which… isat planet *should* have? It would be strange if it didn’t.) Since the country is south of the equator, from October to March they would have a wet season, and a dry season for the rest of the year.

Mountains: depending on how big and tall the mountains are, there may or may not be a rain shadow? I think winds also have an impact on this… I like to imagine the islands mountains as very very tall! “Closer” to the stars, if you will. Anyways, there could be a desert or shrub-land or something like that on part of the island. Do what you want with this.

Flora and fauna: because of island syndrome (island species are smaller) we can guess that if the island has any species native to the island, they’re somewhat smaller to their mainland counterparts. I also don’t think the island would have large native predators. Islands can cook up some strange things! Might have some interesting kinds of plants and animals…

Black sands: two possibilities… actually three?

1. Placer deposit. Placer deposits are collections of (valuable) minerals from a specific source rock. You know those streaks of black sand you might find at the beach? Those are placers. You CAN have a beach that is entirely placers!

2. Volcanoes! Basalt, self explanatory. This is popular, especially since it can tie into the mountains, but… I’m not a fan. I’m REALLY not a fan! See, these kinds of black sand beaches are usually short lived. Hawai’i keeps their black sand beaches by making it illegal to remove the sand. If you want your island to have black sands from lava, you could say they have frequent eruptions, or nobody can take the sand, orr the currents replenish the black sands back.

3. Wish did it.

I lean towards placers because that’s the easiest answer to me.

Culture and economy: oh man there could be a lot of money in selling off the theoretical island native plants and animals. Not saying that’s good or bad… but there’d be money in it!

In tropical mountainous regions it’s more common for people to live in higher regions, BUT I think being so close to so many other countries would make it more profitable for some to live on the lower coast, where ships are going to be coming in and out.

There’s going to be more money rolling around on the coast, would probably be more urban to suit all the people coming in and out. All the people coming by also means that they’re going to be bringing over different beliefs, practices, etc etc. They’d be more accepting, and open to new things. If Siffrin was living on the coast, they would be a city kid!

Meanwhile those who stick to the higher ground would have more rural communities. Could possibly even be more faithful to the Universe belief? Closer to the stars, and farther away from all the foreigners on the coast, they’re going to have less exposure to different cultures and beliefs. They may be more stiff in their beliefs, and possibly more faithful. At least, in their eyes maybe?

The darkness of the sands, the sea, the sky….. seeing the moon and stars reflected in the water….. you get it you understand. I think living in this specific area didn’t necessarily CAUSE the universe belief, but I do think it made them more pre-disposed to possibly having a connection to the stars and sky.

[sidemari]

Aftercare Headcanons

Characters included: Hwei, Jinx, Kayn, Viktor, Yone x GN!Reader

Author's notes: I hope you enjoy this and forgive me any mistakes! Let me know if you have any requests about this fandom.

Picture: https://br.pinterest.com/pin/8585055533861864/

Hwei

He can get clingy after sex, mainly because he feels extremely safe by your side.

He will usually make sure that everything is okay with you, if you felt respected and satisfied with the way he made you feel and especially if you are in need of something specific.

After sex, he will always treat you as if you were the most fragile and most lovable person in the world.

Compliments and declarations of love are his strong point. Hwei will murmur words of reassurance and express what he feels for you almost as if he were reciting poetry.

"Whenever I'm alone with you… You make me feel like I'm whole again." He kissed your lips slowly before climbing back on top of you, straddling your lap, and looking at you with eyes full of love and desire. "I can't get enough of you… Let me keep loving you."

"Touch me, yeah." You guided his hand to your chest. "Make me feel like I'm alive again."

Jinx

Usually Jinx will openly proclaim how essential you are for her to feel grounded in such a chaotic and cruel world.

Regardless of how hectic, overwhelming and overstimulating your sex was, she makes sure you know that just being by your side after such an intimate moment is just as good, if not infinitely better than loving you all night.

She will reassure you as she worships your body, compliments how beautiful you are and talks about how your expressions and bodily reactions are extremely precious to her.

"Remember when we first met as kids?" Her voice was a mere whisper.

"Yeah, I do. I'll always remember that day." You pulled her for a delicate kiss yet still trying to get as much as you could of her before parting for air.

"That night… You ran into my heart so carelessly, so abruptly… And…" You encouraged her to continue by caressing her cheek with affection. "And fuck… I'm glad I was wondering those streets at dawn for I met you and now I can't imagine a future where we don't belong together."

Kayn

It's not uncommon for you to feel overstimulated after having sex with Kayn. He's a passionate lover, his touches are almost desperate, his kisses are needy and fervent and he's not at all ashamed to admit that he loves to break you whenever the mood allows.

That said, the aftercare he usually provides you is to try to meet your needs as best he can.

He always cleans you with soft towels while you regain enough energy to get up and take a shower. He'll usually bring you water or some other drink of your choice or even something for you to eat, if that's what you want.

Some of the comments about the marks he's capable of leaving on your body are made to tease you, because he knows you get embarrassed. And if there's anything as good as having you under him, completely under his control, it's seeing the way you behave when you're embarrassed.

"You're mine." He whispered against your neck before returning to suck it, finishing the last mark of the night.

"Kayn… This is going to be hard to hide."

"That's the point." He fell beside you, pulling your body against his. "Do you want me to make you a hot chocolate in a little while?"

"You're trying to distract me from the fact that you marked me in every way possible today."

"Maybe, but… A hot chocolate would be nice right now, wouldn't it?" He kissed your shoulder before chuckling softly.

Viktor

Already posted this as an alone work, but wanted to add here as well.

He's the kind of guy who cares about your well-being before, during, and after you have sex.

It's not uncommon for him to stay with your body cuddled against his while your heavy breathing and overstimulation slowly fade away.

Cuddles, words of reassurance, slow and affectionate kisses, massages wherever you may be sore and a relaxing bath together after sex are essential for him to show you how absurdly perfect and important you are to him.

One of the greatest proofs of love that Viktor can show you is to sleep next to you (always after you, due to his protective instinct) and stay by your side all night, making sure to still be with you when you wake up, even if he has countless responsibilities and unfinished projects.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

"Good morning, Vitya." His fingers stroked your hair as you wiped the sleep from your eyes.

"Thank you for yesterday. You were absolutely perfect." A certain embarrassment took over you at the compliment, making you hide your face against his neck, inhaling that welcoming scent.

"Maybe I'll have to drag you out of your lab more often." You murmured.

Yone

He cares about you a lot, that's the essence of him as your partner. You always come first and even though you insist that he deserves to let himself be vulnerable and be taken care of by you, Yone prefers to provide you with everything you need before thinking about himself.

He carefully checks to see if he left any marks on you that might be sore later, apologizing as he gently kisses the marked spots.

Usually you stay silent after sex, just enjoying each other's company and warmth.

Every single time Yone caresses your hair until you relax enough to sleep and occasionally murmurs an "I love you" when he thinks you've already fallen asleep.

"I love you so much." He murmured against your hair.

"I love you so much too, Yone." You whispered back, snuggling even closer against his chest.

"I thought you were asleep."

"I want to enjoy this moment with you a little longer. It's been so long since…" Your voice voice went quiet.

"Yes, I know." His hand rested on your thigh, caressing it. "But I'm here now and I'll never leave your side again."

Other works of mine:

https://www.tumblr.com/sidemari/770889163155357696/love-hurts?source=share (Viktor x Fem!Reader)

https://www.tumblr.com/sidemari/770262867164512256/reunited?source=share (Viktor x Fem!Reader)

https://www.tumblr.com/sidemari/770344104203862016/hii-ur-smut-is-scrumptious-can-you-do-size?source=share (Jinx x Fem!Reader)

Songs I've been inspired by to write this work:

The Cure - Lovesong

Pearl Jam - Black

Dream, Ivory - Welcome and goodbye

The Neighborhood - A little death