#yep that about sums me up

[fics-lovebot]

jujutsu kaisen fic recs pt. 1

main masterlist - jjk fic recs pt. 2 - jjk fic recs pt. 3

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

gojo and geto are rich besties and they coax you into a poly relationship - ( @ramonathinks ) smut

you slap their ass - ( @gojoux ) reaction

slut him out - ( @satoruhour ) gojo, geto, nanami and toji version. y'know what,,,idek what to say about thi- IT´S NASTY FILTHY JUST PORN, reader is a whOre (not my words), read at your own risk bc i was SHOOk

bimbo bunny - ( @merakidoll ) smut, choso, toji and nanami version, the vISUALs I GOT FROM THE NANAMI ONE LAWDDDD

break up - ( @yanderenightmare ) angst, bullying, toxicity, I KNOWW this is sukuna

oops! - ( @gumiiiiezzzz ) text, crack, fluff, the 1st and 2nd year boys accidentally confess they like you (fellow student). THIS IS SO FUUNNAYSFJFSDF i love it, inumaki again on sum weird shi

dont scare me - ( @sweetsugarine ) text, crack, fluff, in which you text “we need to talk”. LMAOOO this is too good

fever fever fever - ( @tonycries ) smut, pwp, sex pollen curse. this is crraaazzzzyyyyyyyyyyyyYYY THE TOJI AND NANAMI ONES HAD ME SCREAMING OUT LOUD I CAN´T EVE- wow just wow

accidental nude - ( @satoruhour ) gojo smut, AAND HE SENDS A WHOLE VIDEO!!

gojo tried to give himself a haircut - ( @enkvyu ) this is fuNNY ksksks, I love the banter

trying to break up with yandere!gojo - ( @peachsayshi ) yan!gojo. yep, we´re talkin about lovesick toxic obsessed type of gojo, LDKJSDFJDJFHL

too much - ( @risuola ) ANGSTTTYYYY, fluff too, reader and gojo are in a situationship kinda thing where they live together and love each other but nothing has been said yet, they get into an argument bc gojo has a big mouth and says a lot of hurtful things, they´re both just so exhausted

dorm room escapades - ( @satoruhour ) smut, dad´s bestfriend!nanami, age gap, GAWWDD DAMNNNN, daddy kink, this is some good stuff

swear it´s just right for you - ( @slttygeto ) smut, fluff, hubby!nanami, I´m weaaaak, he´s so husband material

stressed after work - ( @arminsfavoritepookie ) boyfriend! kento, a cute lil drabble bc he loves your mere presence

labour of love - ( @s4lv4tions ) fluff, vanilla smut, lowkey angst if you´ve been keeping up with the manga/anime, loving hubby!kento, SO DOMESTIC, love making, :(

tie my tie, marry me - ( @kenananamin ) fluff, slice of life, "the moment nanami knew he never wanted to tie his tie by himself ever again and wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side" please just do yourself a favor and READ THIS

unprecedented reveal - ( @spideyyeet ) smut, fluff, mma!toji, journalist!reader, lowkey angst, "photo leaks of toji going down on you in public is suddenly exposed for everyone to know about the infamous fighters girlfriend" wELL dssdfh that´ll do it

due date - ( @sleepymarimo ) fluff, big scary dad!toji, UGHHH LOVE ME SOME FLUFFY TOJI

a day at the beach - ( @sttoru ) fluff, slice of life, dad!toji, baby!megumi, wife!reader. this is so cute :33

gimme, gimme more - ( @omgeto ) rich!geto x stripper!reader, lots of plot and build up, he is misteriousssss and fucking filthy and so cuTE??????? wtf, the wating game is real, he knows how to play his cards very well, LAWDD HAVE MERCY i would have folded too

gripping the headboard with one hand - ( @satoruhour ) geto smut, ��what a slut.” hELP

picture perfect - ( @ramonathinks ) smut, photographer choso, he´s lowkey a perv, jacks off to oc´s pictures

type of husband - ( @tonycries ) fluff, hubby!sukuna, this is so cute omgggg

bad boy - good toy - ( @yuujispinkhair ) smut, sub!sukuna (YUPP), campus frat boy/fuckboy/bad boy! sukuna, dom!reader, college au. this,,is literally one of the BEST sukuna smut pieces out there, TRUST. I´ve never read anything similiar, it has it ALL I- please, if you want to be horny and entertained, go ahead and read this (may not be everyones cup of tea so pay attention to the warnings). Part 2 is where is at for sure, it deserves many more notes imo

big brother - ( @mysicklove ) fluff, slice of life, big brother! sukuna, baby brother! yuuji, gf! reader. LMAO HE´S SO EVILLLL iminlovewithhim, author has a big brother au masterlist, plss go through it, it´s so good

virgin!yuuji - ( @chaiiskindagross ) smut, sub!yuuji, "virigin! yuuji whines and whimpers so much, and did i mention sometimes he overstimulates himself to the point of crying?" I´M SSSOOOLLDD SDLFJSDFJHSD love it

loverboy!yuuta - ( @sugurizz ) smut, lowkey fluff, shy beach boy! yuuta, bid dicc! yuuta, confident baddie! reader, WE LOVE TO SEE IT

until i found you - ( @shisnhou ) megumi fluff, ASLDJHJSDKAH I LOVED THISSSSS, so so cute omg

[kelin-is-writing]

Not some peoples on here and TikTok going:

“You don’t like the ending because your favorite character died”

Hell yeah? Literally why wouldn’t I be pissed that my favorite character who could be saved died? Dabi has one of the most realistic backstories and best characterizations in Mha, actually not only in Mha but Anime/Manga in general and do you know how taboo of topics domestic violence, child abuse and raping are in Japan? Mind you, Japan is a country that has domestic violence normalized in their country as part of marriage and somehow education too. Y’all might think I’m joking but victims of domestic abuse in Japan are struggling very much to this day, but Japanese peoples rarely talks about it because Japan is a “Family Image” oriented society (Endeavor and the Himuras showed it enough me thinks) so they categorically refuse to let people know abuse happens, especially the abusers.

“Oh BuT aLL aBuSeRs DoN’t WaNt It To Be KnOwN”, I know but in Japan it’s normalized to just live through it and that (together with bullying) it’s one of the reasons the suicide rate in Japan is one of the highest globally, hope it helps to get a better grasp on everything I’m trying to say.

Horikoshi has depicted it perfectly, because you know… He lives there and even the final outcome (Rei becoming Enji’s caretaker after years of abuse) it’s very much Japanese style. Which is why the Todoroki family ending it’s wrong and disturbing. Wrong, and disturbing.

And as if one of Enji’s victims becoming his caretaker isn’t enough, one of his other victims had to die because of his actions.

“No BuT tOuYa WeNt OfF wItH hIs QuIrK oN hIs OwN”, and who was the main reason and cause he went off like that with his Quirk? Endeavor.

Yep. Thought so too.

I don’t get why some of you are bending backwards, doing backflips and cartwheels to defend Endeavor just because he’s an Hero like— I’m sorry but he is the depiction of a realistically fact that even if your job (YOUR JOB!) is to save other people, behind closed doors that same person who saves other people can still be a shitty person who’s a curse to his own family, because Endeavor is just Enji Todoroki’s façade.

And he’s a well-written character because the depiction of abuser Horikoshi did of him it’s accurate to reality. Enji is egotistical, narcissistic, greedy, self-centered and selfish, which are all the characteristics that made him physically unable to actually address any of what he did until Dabi’s reveal, despite knowing that he was dead wrong and that together with the fact that he waited almost a decade to apologize to his family, is the reason why I genuinely don’t give a flying fuck about his “redemption”. If sorrow was eating you alive why didn’t you apologize sooner, trash?

Touya never got the closure he deserved, actually none of the Leagues got it and you know why? Because the whole War arc was rushed, you can tell by the way Shigaraki was offed. From a writing standpoint it was laughable, seriously.

What’s even worse is that… Nothing has actually changed in the Hero society despite the fact that nine years have passed, because people like Touya, Shigaraki and Toga will never be actually saved because Heroes have failed miserably to save the prime examples of what’s to be saved.

And no, they weren’t saved because death isn’t salvation for people who want to live, be accepted and loved. You guys that think this way genuinely scare me and I want y’all far away from me.

Like— To sum what I’m trying to say: We can’t cry and hate Mha’s ending because of all this, but some of y’all can cry, kick sheets, throw up, crashout and hate the ending over fucking ships?

Wow…

[thebestandrealestever]

~ e!42 miles hcs bc i’m going crazy rn .~

black reader, mostly gn expect for two fem directed one warnings: n word, cursing, implied sexual content but not suggestive

u can’t tell me he don’t blowing u up when you forget the inside outside rule. “why are u on the outside of me?” he said while grabbing your arm and practically throwing u to the other side of him. “it will never ever be that serious please miles.” “it ain’t gon be that serious when u get hit by a car huh?” “we’re in a neighborhood 😭?!?”

he acts like he hates it when you make him do tiktok’s with you but he b rly getting into it . “damn nigga! u doing the dance better than me wtf” “that’s js cause u suck at everything ever.”

scares you in his prowler suit and think it’s the funniest thing in the world. “Boo.” miles said with his voice distorter turned on standing above you, waking u out of your sleep with a yell. “WTF IS WRONG W U??” he cackled for deadass 10 minutes. “u mr fucking funny guy now huh?” “yep, start locking your window.”

if u guys ever broke up, trust this nigga won’t leave you alone. with a big sigh as you see miles come in through the window “miles. why are you still coming in room. i told u it’s over” “lol anyways how was school today?”

has your period tracker on his phone 🤞🏽

u both are insanely in sync, every time you’re sitting next to eachother and someone says sum to y’all you both look at the same time

once you had a pregnancy scare, this nigga started ordering cribs and diapers 😭

u NEVER have to pay for anything by yourself, he be lowk getting upset when u buy urself something

thinks he’s the rizzler because his “hey” he learned from uncle aaron worked on u but really you had liked him for a while already

the only time he post on his story is when he’s posting you, he don’t really be on social media like that.

said something HEINOUS to you in spanish thinking u didn’t know what he was talking about but you asked rio and he got grounded for a month 😭

when you first said you loved him, after he got home he was kicking his feet twirling his little braids fr.

short this is short but i’m going CRAZY

[86espresso]

where do we go now? | qh43

-> 1.7k

sum: you’re the best in my life and I lost you

warnings: HAPPY ENDING in the second part don’t run away, not as heartwrenching as the song I promise, breaking up, angst, feeling like a pile of emotionless trash ❤️, she/her for reader, use of y/n. you’re Quinn’s age and your favorite flowers are marigolds btw.

a/n: I love this song, it hurts so bad <3

You flop on the couch, looking disheveled and tired. Junior year really brings out the worst in everyone. Quinn, who was sat at its end, immediately threw aside his phone and put his sole attention on you.

“Hi, Goldie. How was school?”

“Horrible. I’ll kill mys-” 

“Okay, okay I won’t let you finish that,” he muses. “I worry about you sometimes.”

“You don’t need to, Q. I’ve got it under control. Swear on Jack’s life.”

“I can’t decide if that’s reliable.”

“Hey!”

The younger boy was the one who gave you the nickname after your favorite flowers, and as annoying as he can be, he never fails to make you smile.

“Alright, boys. No need to throw hands. Quinn, could you wake me up in twenty minutes? Carla’s coming over for tutoring.” You add sleepily as you lay your head on Quinn’s lap, and he immediately threads his fingers through your hair, giving you a gentle scalp massage and acknowledging that he heard you. You really could get used to this everyday, til junior (closest thing to hell on earth) year ends.

The tutoring session with Carla goes by fast since its always fun with her sharp personality. She always has the right words at the top of her tongue. Which is why it was concerning to see her quiet after the session was over. 

“What’s up, Car?” 

“I don’t know,” she sighs, running a hand through her short hair, “You- well, it’s weird since I don’t seem like the type to talk about these things-”

“Spit it out, Carla,” You deadpan. 

“You’re, like, in love with Quinn, right?”

It catches you off guard and you check the door of your designated room in the Hughes’ house to be safe before answering, “Yeah?” 

“Do you ever plan on telling him?” 

You can’t help the way all of your insides turned to mush, “I did, actually. A couple of days ago.”  

You flushed as you remembered that night. 

You and Quinn had just sat down to study for the same stupid French exam you both needed to take. It was exhausting but studying with your favorite person made it so much better. 

“You know, you’re, like, my best friend.” 

You pause, but continue a moment later because you knew that Quinn could sit in silence for hours with everyone except you. 

“Yep.” 

“Okay.”

You laugh through your nose, he might be the most endearing person ever. 

“I love you.”

Now. 

You would’ve lied if you said you didn’t feel your stomach lurching in a good way. 

“I love you, too? Quinn, what’s-?” 

“It’s like.” He shuts his textbook. “You’re the one person who knows me inside out and you’re, like, always there for me. And I-“ he huffs, running a hand through his hair as if he couldn’t find the right words, slightly distracting you with his bicep. 

“I don’t know what I would do without someone as constant as you in my life, y’know?”

Quinn was definitely more empathetic than his brothers, but the sentiment was almost too much for you to handle. 

So, the sudden bravery and burst of emotion in you decided that you will not start crying and instead throw your notebook to the side and straddle his lap. And cup his face. 

As soon as you realized what you did, mortification took over all of your senses and before you could clamber off of Quinn’s lap, he puts his hands firmly on your hips to lock you in place. 

“Goldie,” he murmurs your sweet nickname as if in a trance. 

“Can I-?” 

“Please.”

His voice was borderline desperate when your lips collided in a firm, dizzying kiss. It started to escalate when the kisses went from soft to feverish and his hands were all over your body and tangled in your hair, French textbooks long forgotten. 

“I love you so much more, baby,” You managed to say between pants and stolen kisses here and there while you and Quinn stayed intertwined. That’s when he shoved your face into his chest so you wouldn’t see the blush on his face. 

You two eventually broke apart because it really was super late and even with the adrenaline, you weren’t sure if you could stay awake any longer. 

So, you and Quinn made your ways to your separate rooms, grinning like complete idiots but not without sharing a goodnight embrace. 

“Shut the actual fuck up.” Carla snaps you out of your trance, jaw hitting the floor. “Honestly, I never thought you would ever grow the balls to do that.” You could never stop smiling around Carla. 

“Well, I did grow the balls and you weren’t finished with what you were going to say.”

She looked uncomfortable again. You spared her the misery and said it for her instead. 

“Jack.”

“Oh god.” 

She buried her head in her hands. 

“I can’t have a crush. That’s literally so embarrassing, golds.”

“It’s absolutely not embarrassing, Car. It’s okay to like someone if they’re worth it, y’know?”

“I don’t like him.”

Sure she didn’t, but you ended it at that.

One thing you learnt from being the oldest child with neglectful parents was to lock up your own feelings and put them away in some dusty top shelf while you attend to others.

And now it was almost the end of senior year. 

The Hughes’ knew you since you walked into their life at 11 years old. They all, especially Quinn, understood you better than anyone else. 

They started noticing small changes. 

How you stopped spending special time with Luke where you both did his homework and helped with girl problems. How you stopped organizing pranks with Jack and his friends and having witty banters. How you’d started to shy away from Quinn’s touch and become nervous-uncomfortable around him rather than nervous-giddy.

Every time he would praise you, you would think of the lower than average score you got on the test earlier. Every time you two were out for lunch, you would remember how you started falling off in your favorite sport, and your hunger would go away. You felt sick to your stomach about every little thing you did. 

Quinn isn’t that much of an idiot though. He knew you needed space so he avoided prodding too much. 

“Hey, goldie”

You let out a soft hum, acknowledging that you heard Luke before he takes a seat next to you, a spot where you were usually found overlooking the vast lake. Luke would always be a little brother to you, even now that he’s 15 and understands so much more than he did when he was 7. 

“You’re sad,” he noted. The corner of your lips twitched.

“Not anymore, Lu, and you don’t need to worry about me,” you gave him a glance before shifting the conversation to him and asking about school and hockey. He took the bait, bless his heart, and talked while you gave the occasional hum and raise of your eyebrows. He knew not to be offended; you weren’t exactly… you anymore.

“You know.” He breaks the few minutes of silence. “If there’s something that’s really bothering you, you should tell us. Or at least Quinn. He’s worried.”

You were wrong. The little boy you grew up with wasn’t stupid enough to take the bait.

For the first time in days, tears sprang to your eyes. You look up at the sky that was getting darker with time, just like you.

“it’s just- everything, I feel so useless and sad and I’m always snappy, and.” You take a deep breath. “Quinn’s moving. He has his whole life planned out. And, so do you and Jack. What the hell am I supposed to do? Michigan is so far away from Vancouver, I don’t even know my majors yet I just-” You stop, because the boy who you were almost four years older to didn’t deserve to hear your worthless problems.

Regardless, he pulls you into a tight hug without intentions of letting go.

“Y/N.” You momentarily freeze at the lack of your nickname. “All of us can’t really imagine a life without you. Those stupid things don’t decide your worth. You mean so much to us, goldie.”

You knew his words held meaning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to believe them.

The next day, you were found at the same spot. Not by Luke this time, but by a softer, deeper voice that used to be sugar to your ears. Still is, but clouded with the mess of emotions in your head. Or lack thereof.

“Hey, baby.” The pet name actually did something to your stomach this time. You don’t deserve to be called baby by him.

“Hi,” You whispered back. You look up at him as he he sits next to you, mustering a small smile because its the least he deserves. He seems to light up at the slight display of emotion, and leans in to kiss your forehead.

You don’t deserve to be taken care of so gently.

You don’t deserve any of it.

His touch was so comforting but it felt like poison. You lean into it and pull away because this may be the last time you ever talk to him.

“We need to break up, Quinn.”

He’d spoken softer words to you at first but it escalated. He couldn’t be blamed for fighting back, because the girl he knew, the girl he laid his heart out for, wasn’t there anymore all of a sudden. His eyes were teary and yours were dull and dry. 

“Quinn, I’m leaving and you need to stay away from me.”

“No.”

“You look so hopeful, trying to convince me that we- we were made for each other and we’re supposed to last forever and that I have it figured out as well as you do. We are so different, Quinn. It was never going to work out.”

“Just-” he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “If it’s the space that you need, you know where I am.” His voice had grown soft, but you had already turned your back. 

The rest of it was a haze; packing the few clothes you brought with you to Michigan, leaving without telling anyone. Except Jack, who saw you packing through the doorway and got sad, knowing exactly what’s going to happen.

You went to your aunt’s home after that, which was in a small town that was annoyingly close to Vancouver. It was serene and quiet and Carla had committed to college there. 

If it’s the space that you need, you know where I am.

/

so part two yes no idk

love u all 💗

[namelessghost04]

i know i don't really talk about Father Poseidon but this will be an appreciation post for Him because i truly do love Him :D i actually kind of feel bad, bc the most i can do for Him is drink water (i almost never do but bc i started worshipping him i no longer struggle that much w it) and His altar is v simple, but whenever i try to ask Him in which ways i can honour Him better, He just tells me to be kind to myself. He tells me to love myself the same way in which i love Him, and that is so sweet TT i truly do love Father Poseidon and i'm trying to do my best to be self-compassionate, both for His sake and mine <3 and yep, he's the one deity i do have like a parental bond with, and his presence is such a comforting one. whenever i have trouble sleeping, i like to listen to the sound of waves crashing in the ocean, and there have been a few times in which i have felt myself being rocked gently in someone's embrace. it's like He was trying to lull me into sleep, and it worked! He's always taking care of me, and i don't think i can ever thank Him enough TT

to sum up, i love Father Poseidon <3

[jollmaster]

Can I take a moment to say that I love how you wrote Adam.

Honestly, Canon Adam was the reason why I couldn't watch the show and watched yt videoa summing it up with some clips. He was obnoxious and his design hurt my eyes.

But your Adam actually looks visually appealing and I love reading his lore.

I thought the exterminations made no sense to be a thing in Hazbin Hotel and wouldn't have worked, but you managed to make the exterminations work and make sense so thanks for changing my mind. I hated how Adam was killing just because the show wanted a cheap way to get us to hate him. It was literally just like, "HAHA LOOK HOW EVIL I AM, I'M SENDING MY GIRLS TO KILL THESE INNOCENT SINNERS YOU LOVE!!! MWHAHA"

But with your Adam, it makes so much sense and gives him the depth Vivziepop wouldn't let her Adam touch even if it was with a 10 meter stick. I love how Adam compares him killing the sinners as a father putting his children out of misery/punishing them for doing something wrong.

Also I hope you don't mind me asking a little question, but how does Adam view his army of exorcists and what is his relationship with any of them. That is if it exists.

I always imagined Adam being a father figure to all the exorcists, but I was curious on what you decided to do.

OH THANK YOU SO MUCH! 🖤

and yep, absolutely, I had the same thoughts: Adam's character had great potential, as antagonist, as warrior, as father, as someone ambigious, but unfortunately he was just turned into a joke

I decided to play up the fact that Adam's actually the father of all mortal humans, and make the concept of extermination more ambigious but at the same time merciful: concept of merciful death tied with the fact that sinners experience real suffering, and Adam punishes own children and at the same time frees them from their burden, cutting from defective and painful immortality

about Adam and his army of exorcists: Adam is quite strict with girls and behaves as a commander should, but he sincerely sees them as daughters and granddaughters; also Adam prefers women as slayers because due to the fruit of knowledge women are more skilled, clever and fierce

Lute is his favorite granddaughter :D

and Eve's favourite granddaughter too

[mayearies]

POCO LOCO FOR HOCO .. miles morales ⟡

󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠 “there she is! ganke! my dream girl.”

✦ synopsis miles had been crushing on you since freshman year. of course he couldnt confront you about it, even if he believed he was naturally smooth with the ladies. but today was the day.

✦ genre hugs n cuddles

✦ disclaimer none!

✦ note! the title isnt corny shut up

“man, come on.” ganke sighed. miles wanted to ask you out to the homecoming dance since he really adored you. having a crush that didnt wind down for over a year was taking a toll.

miles paced against the marble floor of the hall as people passed by. he was a nervous mess, and ganke wasn’t helping much. “i knoww.. i know!” he crossed his arms, “come on, miles. it’s just homecoming.”

miles gave him a bothered stare and put his hands on his hips, “it isn’t ‘just homecoming,’ ganke! we’re talking about asking the girl i’ve liked for a year, two months, five days, and 2 hours to go to homecoming with me here! lighten up, would ya?”

“you’ve been pacing in the same hallway for the last 15 minutes. i’m getting dimmer and dimmer.” ganke slammed his hands on miles’ shoulders and gave him an inspired look. “you got this. you bought her flowers, tickets, the sign…”

it was a corny spiderman pun he got off the internet a few days before. i mean, it was an attempt. “… could have been better, but we were running short on time. so to sum it up—go get your girl.”

“…thanks man, that was really enli-”

“before someone else does. now go!” he shoved him into you, making you jump in surprise. he was really nervous and sweaty. he wouldn’t know what to do if you said no.

“oh! miles, right?” he was surprised you knew his name, he isnt that well known around visions. he was at one point, on like the first day of school of freshman year. “yep! t-that’s me.”

“i almost never see you around, though. and i know most people in here.” well, crap.

“i just… do a lot of online school! yeah, yeah, i get sick a lot,” he fake coughed while turning his head away, “weak immune systems, y’know?”

ganke facepalmed in the background and gestured miles to get it done and over with before their break ends. he swallowed shakily, “so, i wanted to ask you something.” you rose your eyebrow.

shuffled and pulled out the poster that he made last night, which had a pun writing of “just like spiderman saves the day, will you save a dance for me at hoco?" it looked like he spent a lot of time on it too. “so… will you..?”

“i…” you didnt plan on going to homecoming with anyone, actually. but it was too cute of a proposal “i’d love to.”

his face lit up of sunshine. ganke gave him a thumbs up from just over your shoulder. he hasn’t been this happy in a while. “seriously? like you mean it?” you nodded, “what made you ask me, though?”

“it was a choice.” you giggled a little. “same thing for your shoelaces?”

“you already know me so well, jeez!”

@ mayearies , no swiping!

[brazenautomaton]

so here's a conversation I had with a friend just now that sums up a lot of what I think so well I don't want to bother rephrasing it

them

Oh boy are we ready for 48 more months of hearing the Most Sanest Normalest People on the internet act like a right-of-center candidate getting elected when put up against another nagging scold of a progressive "It's Her Turn"-er was a surprise

me:

The Democrats and their wider supporters don't seem to realize people can remember the things they say. They said Biden was fine, it was a wild right wing conspiracy to think he was unfit for office. Then he is clearly, actively disintegrating on stage at the debate, so now it's Harris! Of course it's Harris, what are you talking about, we've always been about Harris! Harris who was, it's important to note, a diversity hire. She was not a popular candidate. She did dismally in the primary, and was chosen as VP because it was Time For A Strong Woman Of Color

them:

Y-E-P God imagine taking the VP of an unpopular incumbent and saying "Yep, she's the one" and being surprised when that goes poorly It is genuinely alarming, though, how absolutely temporally untethered a lot of the discourse coming from the left is. Like, genuinely just "don't believe your lying memories" level of attempt to disregard stuff that happened not just in living memory, not just in the last decade, but happened during the current presidency. The lack of humility is also not just distasteful, but actually alarming. If you make predictions that are wildly off the mark to try to get people behind your candidate, you cannot then treat your wildly off-the-mark predictions as if they did not matter.

the primary strategy of the "guys who spent five years using 'gaslight' to mean 'disagree with'" appears to be attempted gaslighting. you just aren't allowed to notice things they say and do. every time someone is like "I don't like this thing you're doing," the democrats as a whole are all "That didn't happen and you're a bad person."

this is an effective strategy for winning conversations with people and a very bad strategy for winning elections. when people are upset about things you did or allowed to happen, "nuh uh you bad person" is not a response. "that shouldn't count" is not an effective counter even if you genuinely believe it should not count. a million morlocks-holmes saying "this has nothing to do with the democrats because no democratic holder of office has introduced a bill with explicitly racist language" isn't going to convince anyone who wasn't already convinced. you are not entitled to votes, you have to actually do things to win the election.

focusing on how bad and threatening Trump is is a losing strategy when we had a term of Trump and none of the fascist future we were warned of came to pass. Trump had a fucking vision of the future to really behind that more than zero people believed in. Now, I'm not a "typical" ad-watcher because I only saw campaign ads on YouTube (but I feel like this is not super atypical any more), but I saw a lot of Kamala Harris ads, and zero of them were about any of her plans or ideals or vision and all of them were about "You need to give us money right now to win the election." Like if you're using the money to make ads like this, that's kind of like a one-person pyramid scheme.

the Trump presidency will be terrible in a predictable, expected way. there will be no fascism, just a slow crumbling of our already-dismal institutional competence. I don't think the Democrats would have been much better. They'd still be beholden to an activist core of psychopaths and doing everything they can to cover for those people, while also governing incompetently and completely unable to capitalize on or draw attention to any good things they actually manage to do. Leftists and progressives are already going through the whole "the Democrats move us all to the right they only want to move to the right!" but the Democrats don't move at all; they don't think they should change their behavior, because when they lose an election it is because the voters failed them and not the other way around.

[spicyschemmenti]

CHAOS, CARDBOARD, & CASEY ➫ casey novak

pairing: casey novak x bumbling idiot!fem!reader

synopsis: unpacking should be simple: open boxes, put things away, don’t accidentally confess feelings for your coworker, but with casey around, nothing ever goes as planned

warnings: pre-relationship, mutual pining, reader is disastrous as usual

word count: 2k

MASTERLIST ----- JOIN A TAGLIST

Saturday rolls around way too fast, and unsurprisingly, you’re wildly unprepared. Theoretically, you meant to wake up early, do some light organizing before Casey showed up, maybe even shower like a functional adult. Instead, you’ve spent the last hour standing in your kitchen, staring at an open box labeled "KITCHEN STUFF???" and wondering why the hell you own three can openers but not a single full set of silverware.

By the time the knock on your door comes, you look exactly like what you are; an over-caffeinated disaster who lost a fight with moving boxes. Your hair is barely held together in a bun that’s equal parts tangled and threatening to collapse at any moment.

Your tank top, which might have been white once upon a time, is now questionably stained from an unknown source, and your shorts are old enough that they might qualify as vintage. And the socks? One has tiny avocados, the other has sharks, and honestly, that just about sums up your entire existence.

You fling open the door without thinking and oh. Yep. Of course.

Casey is standing there, looking annoyingly put together for a Saturday morning. She’s swapped her usual courtroom armor for a fitted long-sleeve and jeans, casual but still somehow making you feel like a feral raccoon in comparison.

Her hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail, not a single strand out of place, and in one hand, she’s holding a large iced coffee. In the other? A brown paper bag that smells suspiciously like breakfast.

Her gaze does a slow sweep over you, head to toe, taking in every unfortunate detail of your existence before she raises an eyebrow.

"Wow," she says, after a beat. "This is what you chose to greet me with?"

You blink at her. Then at the coffee. Then at the bag. Then back at her. "You brought provisions?"

Casey sighs, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation, because apparently that’s just the kind of person she is now—someone who walks into your apartment like she owns the place while you stand there processing the fact that she showed up with food.

"I knew if I left you to your own devices," she says, setting the bag down on your counter, "you’d be running on nothing but spite and, like, three-day-old trail mix. And then you’d probably pass out mid-box lift, and I’d have to drag your unconscious body out of the wreckage." She turns, arms crossed, looking way too pleased with herself. "I came prepared."

You narrow your eyes, crossing the room and leaning dramatically against the counter next to her. "You do realize," you say, snatching a napkin from the bag just to establish dominance, "that most people, when faced with a coworker looking like this, would be kind enough to pretend they don’t notice the full-scale disaster happening."

Casey hums thoughtfully, tilting her head. "Most people didn’t have to watch you call a judge 'dude' in open court."

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. "I thought we were past that."

She smirks. "I thought you knew me better than that."

You open your mouth to argue, but before you can, she holds up the coffee. Your coffee. Your salvation.

"Do you want this or not?"

You reach for it immediately, but she pulls it just out of reach, eyes twinkling with something dangerously close to amusement.

"Say ‘Casey Novak is my hero.’"

Your eye twitches. "Over my dead body."

She shrugs and takes a deliberate sip. "Alright," she says, casual as anything. "Suit yourself."

You make an actual wounded noise, staring at her in betrayal, before finally groaning, "Fine! Casey Novak is my hero."

She hands over the coffee, smug as hell, and you immediately take a gulp, shooting her a glare over the rim of the cup.

"Happy now?" you grumble.

"Very."

You huff, setting the coffee down and gesturing vaguely at the chaotic hellscape that is your apartment. "Alright, hero, let’s see if you survive this mess."

Casey just grins, rolling up her sleeves like she’s gearing up for battle. "Bring it on."

And just like that, your weekend takes a turn for the even more ridiculous.

Three hours later, you are drowning in regret.

Regret, exhaustion, and, if the dust coating your arms is any indication, at least a mild level of lung damage. You don’t know how it happened. One second, you were laughing at Casey’s very serious and unnecessary insistence on “a system” for unpacking, and the next, you were somehow knee-deep in chaos, sitting on the floor surrounded by an alarming number of things you definitely don’t remember owning.

"Hey, Casey," you call from somewhere in the pile of your own questionable life choices. "Would you still respect me if I told you I just found a drawer full of unopened mail from three apartments ago?"

"Would it make a difference if I said no?" she replies, not looking up from where she’s methodically sorting your books into actual, labeled categories like some kind of well-adjusted adult.

You sigh, flipping an envelope over in your hands. "That’s fair."

Another minute passes before Casey; who has now successfully arranged your bookshelves into something that makes it painfully clear she’s the competent one here—turns back toward you, eyes narrowing slightly as she takes in your surroundings.

"...Are you actually unpacking, or are you just sitting in the mess, hoping it disappears if you ignore it hard enough?"

You lift an empty shoebox in your hand as proof of your efforts. "I am absolutely unpacking," you declare, before immediately setting the box back down and slumping further into your pile.

Casey snorts. "Uh-huh. Right." She stands up, stretching, and then wanders over, stopping just close enough to nudge the side of your foot with her own. "Alright, come on. Get up."

You groan, draping yourself across a half-unpacked box in protest. "Noooo. I live here now."

"Uh-huh," Casey deadpans, crossing her arms. "And how do you plan on surviving in this little trash goblin nest you've created?"

You peek up at her through the mess. "By accepting my fate."

She sighs, and before you can react, she grabs your hands and hauls you to your feet like you weigh nothing. Which is extremely unfair, because one, it makes her look way too cool, and two, you were committed to staying on that floor.

"Unbelievable," she mutters as she steadies you. "I don’t know how you function."

"I don’t function," you correct, rubbing your face. "I barely survive."

She shakes her head, clearly questioning every decision that led her here. "And yet, somehow, you're the one in charge at work."

You flash her a grin. "Terrifying, isn’t it?"

Casey huffs out a laugh but doesn’t disagree. Instead, she gestures to the couch—the one thing you’ve actually managed to set up—and heads for the bag of food she brought earlier.

"Alright, disaster," she says, pulling out the remaining breakfast sandwiches, "I’m calling a break before you collapse."

Your soul nearly leaves your body in gratitude. "Oh my god, I could kiss you."

The words slip out way too fast. Instantly, your brain short-circuits, eyes widening like you just announced your secret love for the murder defendant again.

Casey freezes mid-motion.

There is a beat of silence.

Then, without looking up, she just says, "Eat your food, dumbass."

And that’s it. That’s the moment you officially decide you’re never speaking again.

You are absolutely not thinking about it.

Nope. Not at all.

You are, instead, very casually and totally normally focusing on unwrapping your sandwich and not replaying the moment where you, in all your idiotic glory, accidentally suggested kissing Casey.

Nope. You’re just eating. That’s it.

The problem is, Casey is still here. Sitting on your couch, in your apartment, looking disgustingly put together in her jeans and fitted sweater like some kind of effortlessly cool, hyper-competent adult while you sit beside her in mismatched socks, sleep shorts, and a tank top that may or may not have an old coffee stain on it.

She’s eating her sandwich like a normal person. You, meanwhile, are hyper-aware of everything. How close she is, how the couch dips slightly under her weight, how she smells obnoxiously good despite spending the last three hours watching you commit various unpacking atrocities.

You take a bite of your sandwich to distract yourself.

And promptly choke on it.

Casey pauses mid-chew, looking at you with so much judgment as you flail for your drink. "Seriously?" she asks, not even attempting to hide her amusement. "Again?"

You wave her off, coughing dramatically. "It’s fine," you wheeze, thumping your chest like that’ll somehow fix the situation. "I’m fine. Just… ambitious chewing."

Casey’s lips twitch. "Ambitious chewing?"

"Yes." You nod, recovering as best as you can. "A hazard of my profession."

"Right," she deadpans, sipping her drink. "Maybe stick to smaller bites before I have to explain to your entire office that you met your untimely demise via breakfast sandwich."

You glare at her, but it has zero effect because she just looks smug. The worst part? She’s not wrong. If anyone were to die from something as ridiculous as aggressive sandwich consumption, it’d be you.

There’s a comfortable silence as you both eat, the chaos of unpacking momentarily forgotten. The afternoon sun filters through the window, warm and golden, and for the first time all day, you’re not actively embarrassing yourself. It’s… weirdly nice.

Too nice. Suspiciously nice. Which means, of course, your dumbass brain decides to ruin it.

"Hey, Casey," you blurt out before you can stop yourself. "Why are you here?"

Casey blinks, mid-sip. "I—what?"

"Like, why are you really here?" You gesture vaguely between you. "I mean, you could’ve just let me suffer alone, but instead, you’re here, willingly spending your Saturday watching me self-destruct in real time."

She raises an eyebrow, setting her drink down. "I told you already—because if left unsupervised, you’d somehow manage to set this place on fire."

"Okay, but—" You squint at her, suspicious. "You could’ve just let me deal with that on my own. You didn’t have to come. But you did."

Casey exhales, tilting her head slightly as she studies you. Then, completely effortlessly, she shrugs. "I guess I just… like hanging out with you."

Your brain short-circuits.

Just. Fully crashes like a computer running Windows 98.

You stare at her, eyes wide. "You what?"

She frowns, like she doesn’t understand why you suddenly look like someone just told you that gravity is optional. "I like hanging out with you," she repeats, slower this time, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "You’re—" She gestures vaguely at you. "You’re a mess, but you’re also… kind of fun? In a deeply concerning way."

Your brain has officially blue-screened.

Because what does that mean?!

Does she like hanging out with you in a normal coworker way? Or in a ‘I find you entertaining in the way people enjoy watching car crashes’ way? Or in a ‘you’re an absolute disaster but I’m kind of fond of you anyway’ way?

You need clarification. Immediately.

"Fun how?" you demand. "Like, fun in a ‘wow, this idiot is so incompetent it’s amusing’ kind of way? Or fun in a ‘wow, I genuinely enjoy your presence’ kind of way?"

Casey blinks at you, and then—completely unfairly—she smirks. "Why?" she teases. "You hoping it’s the second one?"

Your soul leaves your body.

You panic. Flail, physically and emotionally. "NO," you say way too fast, because your brain and mouth have never once worked together in harmony. "*I mean—*not no, just—I don’t know! I was just asking!"

Casey laughs, shaking her head as she reaches for another sandwich. "Relax," she says, and then—casually, like she’s not sending your entire existence into an emotional tailspin—"It’s the second one."

You black out.

Not literally. But spiritually? Mentally? Emotionally? Absolutely.

Casey likes hanging out with you. Not in a car crash way, but in a genuine enjoyment way.

And maybe you’re reading into things, maybe you’re letting your dumb, sleep-deprived, chronically embarrassing brain make this into something it’s not—but suddenly, your apartment doesn’t feel quite as messy anymore.

tags:

@archetype-d

@ajwhizzersversion

@todorokiicefire

@eyecandy111

@undercoverprentiss

@colourfulbisexualities

@divorcedcigarettes

[noroi1000]

could i request a gojo x yn where yn is a famous supermodel while gojo is like businessman mafia and she meets him in a part for influential ppl and some rival of gojo attack the party to catch gojo but can't do it and to save y/n gojo takes her with him in a hurry to make sure she's fine ( bro fell in love at first sight while y/n doesn't really care bcs yk very hard to be impressed type of lady ) but a plot twist in this setting sort of is that there has been cases of many murders recently and the serial killer is impossible to catch ( the killer is y/- ok yes u get it but she killed them bcs she ruined her family or sum like that so our baddie is taking revenge ) well this is a dark theme dark romance request so yep ofc there's dark content and no one knows abt y/n's past at all despite her status no matter how hard they try and gojo after taking her makes her stay with him bcs she's one of the few ppl who saw his face so for privacy purposes and gojo barely finds out abt y/n's "dark deeds" when she throws hints playfully ( she's kinda devious morally grey sort of woman ) and idk what to add much more honestly but yea a smexy romantic love story ( SUB GOJO PLEASE 🙏😍😩 ) and gojo brings her a person to kill every year on her bday bcs she feels "stabby" ( mindfuck book series ref if ykyk ) also ofc y/n continues her career as a supermodel bcs 💅🏼👠. as another personal preference don't make y/n younger as it's uncomfy to me so yeah jsjdndbdnfn

whew this was quite a lot

have a good day !

Beautiful Vengeance

cover by @blvckryx my advisor and friend

paring: Mafia boss Gojo x model reader (killer)

words: 4,7k

warnings: murders, violence, guns, some kidnaping, smut (sub Gojo/dom reader)

Your mother always wanted you to have a good life. That's why when you told her you wanted to be a model when you grow up, she supported you as much as she could. To give you what you might need to make your dreams come true.

Your career took off when you were a teenager. When you were 16, you won a modeling contest, and your name made headlines.

And because you took the victory from one person, your life was about to end...

You competing with a girl whose family was more important than yours. You won anyway thanks to your innate charm, which made you stand in the first place and people considered you a beautiful, future model.

Thanks to this, your career could continue to roll and grow. And you couldn't take that chance.

You've worked so hard. You were the pride of your parents.

But your only opponent was a spoiled female dog who after losing to you all she wanted was to get rid of you.

She was the niece of mob boss Q. A man going by the name Q, who made his living by killing people for hire, dealing drugs and weapons. Even human trafficking. His mafia teams were everywhere.

You didn't know about it until you saw a group of people enter your house.

You were in your room then, and you heard screams and sounds of fighting.

As you quickly made your way down to your parents' living room, all you saw was pools of blood covering the soft carpet.

And three people dressed in black with black masks on their faces. In their hands bloody knives that they used to make your parents lie on the floor with open but dead eyes.

You were sad. You were afraid. You lost your parents. You wanted to cry over their loss. They were everything to you. They loved you, you loved them. You could have lived with them 16 years of your life. And now... It's all over.

Or you die and join them. To shorten your suffering.

But something else popped into your mind. To make them suffer.

You could have died at their hands, or you could have gotten revenge for your parents by killing them.

And you want revenge for the destruction of your life...

So you silently walked over to the cupboard until the opponents saw you, and unscrewing the bottle you let the water flow out of the plastic, soaking the entire floor where one of the people was standing.

You smashed a nearby lamp on his head and stabbed him with the sharpened glass at the end. Throwing the damaged item onto the wet floor, you jumped back quickly, letting his body quiver with the current coursing through him.

You hit the other's neck with your elbow, pulling his head back until you heard a crack.

Such easy ways to kill someone...

You've already killed two people with your own hands. Even if the metallic, disgusting smell of blood was nauseating.

Before you were stabbed by the last man, you took the knife from the dead body, and plunged the bloody blade into his chest.

While his body was still moving, he managed to scratch your head with the tip of the knife, just above the ear. Cutting off some of your shiny hair. Making your ear and the side of your neck covered in drops of blood.

The man in front of you writhed in pain as you pushed the knife hilt towards him, holding the knife in it. Stuck in his sternum in the chest.

Even though you saw the fear of death in his eyes, you felt no regret. Even if he cried and looked at you pleadingly, you showed no mercy.

Just like they had no mercy for your parents.

As he fell to the floor, the knife fell out of his chest, staying in your hand. Covering your hands in scarlet liquid.

When he was twitching and moving away with the last strength, you just walked over to him, and sitting on his stomach, you drove the knife into his heart, slowly watching the life fade from his eyes.

You felt your pajamas soaking in warm sticky blood. However, you didn't let go of the blade as you walked over to your parents and hugged them, not caring how dirty and bloody you were. You slowly and gently closed your eyes and left the house. Heading to a place where you know where a girl used to live surrounding herself with people with "Q" marks on their clothes.

There was a calm expression on your face as you walked straight down the runway, focusing on going perfect. The flashes of the flash bouncing off your eyes. The outfit you're wearing looks so good on you. One of the collections of one of the most famous fashion designers has been selected for you. Alternating with two other models, you go out there, showing the clothes on your body for less than a minute. A then you go back to change into your next outfit, and leave when it's your next turn.

It was your job.

You like it. You are a famous model.

And you don't mind that people only look at what your body looks like.

You go to clothes exhibitions, you take part in advertisements for clothes, cosmetics, nail polishes, jewelry. You are the face of many advertisements.

A lot of people who hire you choose you because you're sexy. And there is mystery in you. And your eyes show killer sexiness.

Your pose is flawless, sophisticated.

Everyone who knew you talked about this mystery in photos and videos. Something obtained without photomontage and without any additional make-up.

And Dark Beauty when you're seen in the ads for the blood red collection. Everything from lips to nails was a rich red.

That color just reminded you of what had happened over the years of your life. You don't care as long as no one knows about it.

Besides, your revenge isn't quite complete yet.

When you were 16, you swore revenge on those who hurt your family and you. You are 23 now. You are a famous model that neither the media nor anyone knows the whole truth about.

Nobody knows anything about your childhood, nobody knows anything about your past.

"Our killer only kills those from Q? Pretty good..." the white-haired man muttered, looking at the lists of names killed by one person this month. Three people. He couldn't feel sorry for these people. Each of them had the symbol of the Q family. How could he worry about the death of his enemies?

"Gojo-san, there's going to be a fashion show party soon with Q's boss."

He looked at the man who had spoken to him.

He stood up, adjusting his white shirt, adjusting the collar. He put on a black jacket and black glasses hiding his face.

"I couldn't miss it. Let's get together, guys. Time to bust some Q's heads."

Upon arrival, Gojo sat in a chosen spot next to the raised stage for models.

Soon after, the lights all around went out. The stage was lit.

This made it difficult for them to find their target.

So they decided to wait until the main banquet and party started to catch their enemies then.

Those who hinder his mafia cannot exist. Creating a business is a daily routine for the great "Six Eyes. And when people who have contracts with him are suddenly found dead with a "Q" burned into their skin, he can't sit idly by.

When he watched the fashion show, he thought it was everything he had seen before. All models the same, with fake smiles, with everything to make them even more attractive to the viewer. In none of them, in his opinion, was one whose eyes reflected the soul. And Six Eyes draws attention to human eyes. He knows people's eyes when they show fear or anger. When they show emotion. According to him, there was nothing interesting in the eyes of these women.

Until you came out from behind the curtain, walking calmly ahead. In an elegant black dress.

Your face showed a certain coldness, but warm at the same time. Your eyes were so mysterious.

White hair caught your attention, and you looked at him once.

And then, the mysterious darkness in your eyes made his heart beat faster.

Despite your emanating true model face, coupled with a nice façade, he felt your beauty was deadly. And he liked it very much. Mysterious danger.

A beautiful cat that can scratch her claws at any time. Even to death.

His eyes sparkled behind his glasses as he felt a little blush appear on his cheeks.

It was the first time he fell in love with someone at first sight.

No... It was the first time he truly fell in love. And he didn't want to lose this chance.

That's why he memorized as many details of your face as possible to catch you at the party after the fashion show. Because he sincerely hoped you'd be there.

Even if this party here may be bloody and trashed tonight.

But the moment everyone heard a few shots and one man fell to the floor lifeless, Gojo knew that this was no time for love or fun for him.

After all, he came here to get rid of enemies in an easy way.

And the orders to anyone who came with him said only: "If you see someone from Q, shoot without hesitation. They're definitely here."

All the people panicked and started to run.

And then each of them took out a gun and started shooting at the enemies.

When the white-haired man saw that you were standing behind the curtain on the stage, without a moment's thought he ran ahead, jumped on the platform and pulled you on his shoulder, to sit behind a meter high and shoot to protect you. His goal in sight has already killed three opponents today.

"What're you-?!" You screamed as you pulled away from him.

You already had a plan to approach one of the Q's from behind and slit his throat!

And he interrupted you.

"Don't be afraid, you won't die." He said to you.

You couldn't see his eyes clearly through his glasses. But you know he's not a cop.

You are in the middle of a fight between mafias.

Arrows started raining in your direction and he then quickly pulled you in front of him, making you kneel in front of him, and he lowered your head to his chest as he bent down so they wouldn't shoot him.

As he knelt, leaning forward, you were underneath his body. That's how he protected you.

You don't know why he did it. But you guess there's a deeper meaning to it.

It was the first time anyone protected you. It was nice of him. Because that man didn't even know you. You only looked at each other once during the show. Few minutes ago!

When there were fewer shots in your direction, you crawled out from under his chest, heading around the narrow stage.

And you, too, reached into your thigh and pulled out a folding knife.

Ignoring the screams of the white-haired man behind you and the shots, you kept walking. Until you finally saw a man with a "Q" tattoo on his neck.

You literally felt the knife sharpening in your hand and you quickly walked over to him without making a sound and smashed the knife into his neck. And then to the side of the head.

You quickly pulled away and sheathed the knife to check for blood. Fortunately not.

You were pulled to your feet by the same man who tried to save you right after all the shots had stopped.

You looked at his face without glasses.

You noticed the beauty and unique vigor of the eyes.

You heard another shot.

You looked to the side to see a dark haired man firing a gun at a man who was sitting with his back against the stage to make sure he was dead. With his head on the side. Because of this, no one could see the hole in his temple and neck, which is why he died.

"That's everyone. None of them managed to escape." He said, addressing the white-haired man. "What about her? Shoot? You don't have glasses."

He pointed the barrel of the gun at you.

You'd love to fight. If only that guy's hands weren't on your shoulders.

"She saw my face, huh... It's okay. We're taking her with us." He said with a smile.

"What?!" you shouted pissed off.

"Baby, you couldn't see my face. It's not against the rules of my Mafia. No one except those closest to me has seen my face or knows my real name. According to the rules, I should kill you or lock you up so you don't tell anyone. However, killing you would be a great loss. You're so beautiful and you got me curious... I don't want to kill someone I fell in love with."

"...Hold on!" You screamed as you pushed him, but he only held you tighter.

"Come on. I just have to admit there's something mysterious about your eyes. What you show on stage is not the real you, is it?"

"Fuck off!"

"Aw, honey..." he mumbled sadly.

He started to drag you by the wrist to the car. And even though you kept leaning against you, when the other man helped him to immobilize your arms, you were put in the car and he got in right behind you. The door was closed.

You noticed the black window in front of you, separating you from the driver.

That's good. Maybe you can kill him.

When he looked away for a moment, you put your hand under your dress, pulling your knife from the belt on your thigh, and suddenly jumped into his lap, putting the blade to his throat.

"Hey, baby, this is how you repay me for helping me? Understand that these are the rules we have." He said with a smile, hands raised in front of you.

"I could handle myself." You growled.

"Such a dangerous, beautiful woman. What part is the real you?"

"Who are you?! Someone from Q?!"

"Slow down a bit. Actually, it's like I'm taking you, so I should be the one asking the questions. But okay. I'm Six Eyes. Mafia boss. And when it comes to Q, I'm their biggest adversary."

You wondered if you should trust him. He didn't seem threatening now. Also, there was no Q anywhere here.

Holding the knife to his throat, you hesitated for a moment on what to do.

This caused his hands to quickly pull you down to the seat. His both hands held your wrists while his hips touched your ass as you lay on your stomach.

"If I was from Q, I'd rather kill myself than be there. And besides, everyone from Q would pay no attention to anything. They would just tie you up, rape you, kill you, and then dump your body in a ditch. Did I do that?"

"If you tried, I'd castrate you." You growled.

"Dangerous. I like it. However..." he let go of your wrists and sat in his place, giving you space. "I don't know if you could do something for me. I must admit your ferocity and hostility is strong. But let's say I'm the Mafia boss and you're the model."

"Do not underestimate me..."

"So tell me, (y/n) (l/n), why shouldn't I underestimate you? Tell me something about you. Because you are famous, but your biography is not known by anyone."

You were locked up in the large villa that was his home for several days. Why? Because he didn't want to lock you up in your old garages. He didn't want you gagged and bound while you sat there for who knows how long.

Your relationship was closer because you liked him. However, there was still some tension between the two of you.

Him, the annoying, selfish asshole and egotist who spoke to you the way he wanted to, and always came in when you least expected it.

He was able to come to you in the bathroom while you were taking a bath.

And he joined you.

That's why things became intimate between the two of you quickly, even though you weren't even a couple. You could just be considered friends now.

And you both liked the relationship you already had.

Nothing changed for the next two weeks.

It doesn't matter how many times you hit him with a pan until he finally let you go.

Of course he didn't because he acted like a child after being hit on the head with a pan. He pretended to cry.

You took good care of him and checked him for any head injury. Everything was fine. So you didn't have to worry.

And then he wouldn't let you get out of bed, wanting to make you feel guilty for doing it.

He was lying on your stomach, making you rub and stroke his head because it hurt. And it was your fault.

You apologized to him, and what else were you supposed to do?

It was your revenge for him locking you in here. And for skipping one of the most important performances where you were supposed to show clothes on stage. However, you couldn't complain, because as compensation for your lost money, you received from him a wardrobe worth half a year of your work. Or even more.

If only he was still good at sex, then you wouldn't complain so much. Because your partners were terrible. It's as if they couldn't do anything.

Besides, you've also been given a luxurious house that you have to live with him anyway.

"Come on. I already apologized to you..." you said, running your fingers through his white hair.

"But it hurt..." he said, pretending to cry.

"You don't even have a trace of it. There isn't even a bump on your head."

"But it still hurt...

"You've probably watched the ball through your opponents more than once, right?"

"Not at all..."

"You're in the mafia, Satoru..."

So yes, he told you his real name with the idea that you can't leave him and leave his house anyway. So your names were used by you on a daily basis.

"I've been in the mafia since my mother gave birth to me. I took it from my father... Besides, nobody ever shot me. Because I shot faster and more accurately than they did. When I was 15 I killed a spy who was looking for our weak point in our defense." He laughed, purring as your fingers swirled in his hair.

"So you had a bloody childhood too?"

"I doubt you shot anyone when you were a teenager." He laughed. "How old are you anyway?"

"I'm 23." You replied.

"Same as me! You see? We are made for each other!" He stood up suddenly, looking at you with sparkles in his eyes.

"Apparently you have a headache." You laughed as you saw him quickly lay down on top of you again. "Come on. Come, let me stroke you a little more."

"Which means you had a bloody childhood?"

"Do you really want to know? Don't you prefer that I leave my mysterious eyes?"

"You're smart and cold, or so you think. At fashion shows and commercials, you change it to a mysterious and sensual façade. However, you can care for someone else."

"I hit you with a pan. Is this supposed to be taking care of someone?"

He laughed slightly.

"It was different. Because I don't forbid you to be aggressive. I understand that you hate me. But now you're stroking and hugging me. You wash me while I wash you. We are not such enemies. Can you say we're lovers?"

"I don't know. But when I was 16, I also did something that probably no other model has ever done." You laughed.

He looked at you for a moment, analyzing what you said.

And 7 years ago, almost 10 people were murdered. And from that moment on, the murders of everyone in the Q group and family began. Starting with some of the closest ones from the family of the boss himself.

And these murders continue to this day. The murderer is impossible to catch because no one knows who he is. The gender of this person is unknown. No one knows what his goals are in these murders.

"This knife... You..." He looked at you questioningly.

"I have a knife scar under my hair. And the blood stains are washing off the skin." You said softly. "You can beat me if you know the truth now. If you think I'll be in the way or I shouldn't kill people like them. But remember that if you try, I will try to protect myself."

"You know it doesn't matter to me We may even be partners in crime. Because this is the woman I fell in love with at first sight." He hugged you, holding you tight.

Your actions for revenge are not ridiculed by him. On the contrary. He supports it.

And he promises that everyone from Q will die.

Because he fell in love with mysterious dark eyes. Eyes that from the beginning hid something murderous. So beautiful.

Just like all of you.

Your relationship was like lovers and enemies at the same time.

Or was it more like partners in crime now?

Dark lovers who don't care about the lives of their enemies. You has a mafia boss, the famous Six Eyes, wrapped around your little finger.

You guided him. His heart.

Such a powerful man was so small and sweet to you. So submissive.

That's why you could give that big little boy what he wanted.

You were still riding his cock until you were out of breath that night.

Or rather, his breath.

When you wonder if he's good at sex, you thought he was going to be average.

However, it is different.

He has a big nice dick.

It really stretches you out. It goes so deep. It hits all the best places.

You could barely feel the thin condom against his thick length as your pussy slid over him, lovingly inviting him into your tight warmth every time you lowered your hips.

His arms were bound with the string you found. It felt so good in his muscles.

He couldn't move while you scratched his arms and bit his neck.

You were riding him, making him moan. His hips pushed upward to meet your warmth. Your hand on the back was catching his balls and you were squeezing the skin in your palm. You pinched his thighs. You ran your hands over his lower abdomen, running your fingers along the veins running down his pubic bone.

Your fingernails ran over his chest, occasionally grazing his nipples.

While riding him, you massaged your clitoris to make you come faster. And you smiled as you watched as his head was thrown back as he red-faced moaned at the feeling of your pussy sucking him. His chest heaved rapidly.

His cock twitched inside you.

And then you pulled it out of you, leaving it out in the air. Only with a thin condom on it.

He moaned as your fingers tightened on the base of him, not allowing him to come.

It was his first ruined orgasm you gave him.

And you think he was always driving during sex. He was downstairs now, but he didn't protest. This guy just needed someone to dominate him the right way.

Very slowly and unbearably, you took the condom off him as the precum began to form a transparent puddle in the sperm reservoir.

Leaning down to his red cock, you kissed his head, listening as he moaned, his hips jumping as he felt a sudden touch against a sensitive part of his body.

He was so red and sensitive from a ruined orgasm. It was so cute.

You sat on his hips, and rubbed your pussy against his length, pressing his shaft against his muscular belly.

At the same time, you pulled his face down to your chest, doing something he always did when he saw you shirtless. You put his head in your breasts and he immediately started sucking on your nipples. Feeling the softness of your skin.

Soon after, he started moaning again and you stopped touching his cock again. If he wasn't tied up now, he would grab the length of it and start stroking himself to feel relieved. But alas, his hands were tied. There was nothing he could do and he was at your mercy.

You pressed your fingers against it again. Ensuring not one drop of his cum will come out of his tip. He couldn't come yet.

You want to see him throw his head back and moan when he wants to cum so much.

You sat on his cock when he didn't have a condom on, and he hissed through his teeth at the hot and tight feeling when he had nothing to separate your insides from his sensitive skin.

You grabbed the second condom and ripped open the wrapper. Only then did you get off of him, watching his wet tip drool.

You put the rubber all the way down his length, and then you sat on him again.

Warming his cock until his eyes were glassy and hazy and his face was so red.

As he threw his head back and his shoulders and hips trembled, wanting to start thrusting into you to come, you gave him some mercy.

You started jumping on top of him, smiling as you watched his heavy breathing and closed eyes.

The mighty mafia boss began to moan beneath you. And his ragged moans coupled with light sobs were the cause of his intense orgasm which was a combination of the three he was about to get. His thighs trembled as he came filling the condom inside you, the heat from his fluids pushing his sensitivity to the limit.

As you pulled him out of you, his cock fell soft against his stomach. You took the filled condom off him and tied it, putting the sticky rubber on his abs.

You lay down next to him, untying his hands, letting him pull your body against his.

Your nights together made him unable to resist you. So when you wanted to go back to your dream job, he had to agree.

Two people followed you across the city.

Even if he trusted you not to tell anyone.

He had your secret and you had his.

Little cameras in people's suits let him see what you were doing.

Well, he knew what you would do with those two.

Besides, he didn't feel sorry for them. They were two deserters who ran away from Q to join his mafia.

And he promised you that everyone who is or even was with Q will die.

That's why when he suddenly saw a pool of blood on the other side, he wasn't surprised and didn't even feel sorry for the two people.

Then he saw your face as you held the camera in one hand and your knife in the other.

"Not nice, Six Eyes ~. I don't like being followed. And we'll keep your punishment for that for later, Okay?"

When you said that, he felt a pleasant shiver that passed over his spine. And he couldn't wait for you to come home.

You were his dark queen.

His dark, beautiful queen will have her beautiful vengeance.

Because you will get everything.

Every year, on your birthday, he would take you to one place where the dirty work of killing was often done.

As a surprise, you got one or two high-ranking Q people.

Because his beautiful queen will always get what she wants.

So if you want revenge, you'll get it. In the best way for you.

You are his killer beauty. His deadly love.

[tulipsforyourlips]

✧˖°. i found you ✧˖°. (4)

|| the sandman x dead boy detectives ||

SUMMARY: You run the dead boys detective agency along with your two best friends. And somehow two ghosts and a living girl make it work. Until you dream one night, of dream himself.

PAIRING: dream of the endless x fem!reader

WC: 3K

WARNINGS: none I can think of

PART 4✧˖°.

"So let me get this straight, ghosts cannot lie to you yet you work with two ghosts who apparently can," Matthew cawed from his place on your shoulder where you were huddled in one corner of the Dreaming library. 

Earlier that day, Dream had intercepted your walk to the bakery nearby your apartment, almost giving you a jump scare, and then brought you back here with him once you'd pleaded to let your ghost friends know you were going out. Since it was a weekend and the agency remained closed, they didn't question you. Although Charles did tease you about a date. If only.  

"Yep that pretty much sums it up. But it's not out of compulsion, it's that ghosts trust me, it's like they have no other option than to trust me. I don't know how it works seriously, just that it has helped a hell lot of ghosts successfully cross over and boom our business. And as far as Edwin and Charles are concerned, well my powers, if you could call it that, did happen after meeting the guys. So," you shrugged.

"Interesting," Matthew mulled over your words, "and this has been going for the past.."

"4 years.”

"And you remember nothing before that? No family, no one from your past?" 

An all so ever familiar brush of sadness tingled every bone in your body. "No," you exhaled. 

"I am sorry.”

"Eh I am used to it now. Besides I love my life with the boys. I did search for any signs of my family, if I had one and then just gave up after a year. The boys are my family now." 

"Include me in too.”

You laughed at Matthew’s response. "Of course you are my precious little raven." 

"My lady," Lucienne's voice greeted you, "he’s ready.”

While you were away, Morpheus had tried to repair the damage only for a fresh bout of earthquakes to replace the previous destruction. Now you made your way to where he stood crafting dreams or nightmares. 

"Mortal," he said in greeting, his back turned to you. 

"Dream.”

He moved aside and your breath got caught in your throat. Staring at you, was a half human, half monster who had a tongue of a reptile and teeth like razors. The stuff of literal nightmares.  

"Make him trust you," Dream spoke.

"Are you crazy?" You looked at him as if someone had cracked his skull open and was gorging on his brains and someone might have with what he was suggesting. 

"You dare-?" 

Yes you fucking dared. What was he expecting you to do, commit suicide? 

But he was after all an Endless, and you did not wish to invoke his wrath so you only mumbled, "I can't do this, you can't expect me to get a nightmare to trust me! It's unreal!" 

"But ghosts trust you.”

"Yes because they are ghosts and he is, well a bloody nightmare.”

"Try.”

"And who's guaranteeing that I won't die trying?”

"I am.” His words were solid pebbles dropping in your guts. 

You don't know what made you take the next step, maybe it was the conviction in his voice, but you stretched your arms forward and warily tried to approach the monster human. You took baby steps towards him, just a few more, you assured yourself but then the nightmare lunged straight for you. You tripped backward and the sandy ground contacted your back. But before the nightmare could contact you, Dream raised his hand and the nightmare vanished into darkness, flecks of what he once used to be gracing the ground in front of you. You got up on your feet, the image of razor teeth inches away from your face still imprinted in your mind. 

"I am sorry Dream I can't do this." 

"What?” A frown displayed on his face. “But I ensured no harm came to you.”

"Dream I was saved from becoming nightmare food by a mere second!" 

"I would not have let any harm befall you." His eyes sook yours trying to convey the determination behind his words. 

Your face softened. You wanted to believe him. You really did. But how could you trust his creations when you did not trust the creator himself.  

"And I am just supposed to believe you?" 

"Morta-"

"You know I have a name. If you want me to help you, the least you can do is stop perceiving me as a fly in your path and call me by my name!" you snapped. 

Dream was silent. 

"Get me out of here.”

You half expected him to deny your request but sand began swirling around you, and the next moment you were teleported back to the waking world. Had he so easily given up on you? Good riddance. 

When you pushed the door to the apartment open, the guys were huddled together on the couch, watching television. 

"Hey! how was your date?" Charles asked, his gaze fixed on the television. 

"Terrible," you murmured and slammed the door to your bedroom behind you. 

The king of Dreams sat on his throne, gazing at the universe contained in his ceiling, when he felt you enter the Dreaming. He always did. He entered the mountain clearing, your lone figure was sprawled on the grass in the distance beneath the starry sky. Before his brain could object, he started towards you.

You must have felt his presence because you bolted upright when he neared you, “Dream,”

His name felt so weightless on your tongue, he wanted to hear it again and again. You on the other hand didn’t know why you were so surprised to see him here, it was his realm after all.

“I told you I am not-"

“Relax Hazel, I am not here to impart any lessons to you.”

Hazel

“So why are you here?”

He opened his mouth and closed it, no answer left him. Had you just seen the Dream Lord hesitate? You patched the grass beside you, an invitation for truce. Tentatively, he sat down, his cloak spooling around him. It was an odd sight, seeing the Dream Lord on the ground beside you, instead of his ceremonious throne.

“Did you create this?” You asked.

“Partially, I had help.”

“I thought only you had the power to create dreams and nightmares.” Your time in the library had been well spent.

“It is true, but the vision can always belong to someone else. His voice was soft, words floating into the winds.

You imagined someone having the vision for this, for this phenomenal beauty you were sitting in and you thanked them.

“It’s beautiful.” Your voice came like a whisper.

Morpheus looked at you. “It is.”

You both sat in silence, gazing at the stars twinkling above you.

Dream’s voice penetrated the quiet. “Mort-Hazel, I never mean to belittle you. And believe it or not, I am grateful to you for your help. But you have to understand that-”

“Then make me understand.” You repeated your words from your first visit to the Dreaming.

Morpheus sighed before the low baritone of his voice reached you. “You know there are seven of us. There is Death, Destiny, Desire, Delirium, Despair, Destruction and I. And it is our purpose to ensure the smooth running of humankind. We have been here since the beginning of time itself and will be here when the last soul departs the Earth-” You had already read all this in the library but let him go on “-but along us siblings, there was,” he paused.

You thought it was for dramatic effect but when he didn’t continue, you called to him, “Dream?”

He inhaled sharply, “Hope.” The word left his mouth in a breathy exhale.  “There was Hope, and she held together what you could call the fabric of humanity.”

“Where is she now?” You asked.

Dream looked at you for some time and answered, his voice a whisper, “dead.”

The hurt in his voice took you off guard. 

“I am sorry.”

Silence engulfed the both of you again.

“Is that the reason behind the earthquakes?”

“Hope and Dream are co-dependent. Neither can exist without the other. We thought, we hoped that the future could withstand the loss of hope, but the inhabitants of the Dreaming grow weak without her pulse and the realm itself is failing.”

“And if it does, so will humanity.” Your words sunk in you.

“Because what are humans, rather any of us, without dreams and hope?” He looked at you.

“And that is why you need me, to instill trust in the dreams and nightmares so that they don’t stray from their purpose to serve humanity,” everything clicked, "Dream I had no idea-“

“It wasn’t your fault,” he stated. “But now since you know how imperative it is for the dreams and nightmares to learn to trust, the shadow of hope, will you help me,” his eyes held yours and there was a delicate plea seeping into his gravelly voice, “save the world?”

“Yes.”

You rested your head against Edwin's torso as you flipped through the mail you were holding. He was propped against the back of the wall as he went through a thick volume of ghost fungi or something. You couldn't care less. The past week had been tiring, an understatement of course. Your every organ was tired, despite sleeping for 10 hours a day. But it wasn't like you were sleeping, Morpheus and you trained every night in the Dreaming, and your grueling efforts had reaped no fruit yet. And during the days, the agency's work took a toll on you. The only respite from your exhausting and rigorous routine was the hour just before dawn, when you'd sit with Dream in your little bubble and gaze at the stars together. You'd begun looking forward to it every day, you had realised with reluctance. 

"Aha! This seems interesting.” You held out a paper in your hand, grabbing the attention of both the boys. 

Charles tilted his head from his position on the table to read the print on the paper. "A demon possession, brills!" 

"So your believe you are possessed by a demon?" Edwin scribbled notes in his notepad. 

"Yes.” The girl's voice was hoarse with crying. 

"And what makes you believe that?" 

"I-I wake up in strange places which I have no memory of traveling to, and there are voices inside my head-”

"Yeah, welcome to being alive duh," you snorted. 

Shit you had said that aloud. 

Charles gave you a rebuking look. 

"Sorry," you muttered. 

"The voices inside my head, they are too loud. He makes me do things I would never do," the girl continued.

"Can you..feel him right now?" 

"No,” she shook her head, “he surfaces only occasionally," she sniffed. 

"Hey." Charles held the girl by her shoulders. "Don't worry, you will be okay. We will get him out, we promise.”

Oh no, there was only one rule. You never ever promised a client. You look up expecting to see Edwin's dismal expression but only find a thin veil of envy coating his features. Oh boy. 

You were just beginning to tease him when you caught the unmistakable unruly hair of the King of Dreams to your right in the distance. 

"Uh guys, I will be right back," you told the group, "really need to pee."

God you needed to work on your excuses. 

"What are you doing here?" You hissed when you neared him. 

Matthew cawed on his shoulder. 

"Pleased to meet you too Hazel.”

"I thought we had a deal, no training during daytime.”

"It's not I but Lucienne who seeks you. She needs your help with the library.”

"Oh?” Spending an entire day in the library of dreams? Sign me up. “Well then I could make an exception for her,” you hummed. 

“Of course, it doesn’t assist any fascination of yours,” he mocked. 

“Did you just attempt sarcasm? They grow up so fast.” You wiped false tears.

“Come now-”

“I need to tell the boys first, and don’t-don’t do that whirlpool thing here,” you looked around, “there are witnesses. Meet me at the-”

Before you could finish, he dissolved into nothingness. Great. 

“Were you um talking to yourself?” Edwin’s voice spooked you. 

You whirled around. “Yeah, just normal sane things.” You added hurriedly, “what’s with the girl?” 

Edwin’s expression changed into annoyance at her mention. “Charles insists on taking her back to the apartment to-“ he drew quotation marks in the air, “-monitor her in hopes of expelling the demon out of her body.”

“Well all the best with that.”

“What do you mean? You aren’t coming back with us?” 

“I just think that since she’s not a ghost and I don’t have any leverage over her, I might pursue other activities today.”

“Like the date?” Edwin frowned.

“No-Yes,” you sighed, giving up. 

“Uh alright have fun. See you tonight.” 

“You too.” 

You were propped up in Lucienne’s chair, combing through yet another volume of the history of the universe. The sheer rarity of this knowledge baffled you. You hadn’t seen Morpheus since he had apparated the both of you in the library. Turns out, Lucienne had been rearranging vast sections of the library today and even though she didn’t exactly need your help with that, she welcomed an eager friend and her joyful company. After hours of studying her intricate filing system and aiding her in that, your tired self now sat a few feet away from where she stacked the remnant books in their allotted places. You simply were in awe of that woman. Matthew chirped from your shoulder, he had seemed to make a home there. Eyes drooping with exhaustion, you slammed the book shut. Should you ask them? It’s now or never right?

“Who was Hope?” 

Lucienne froze in her movements, and Matthew stopped chirping. A feather could be heard dropped in the quiet that you had unknowingly compelled the room into. 

The librarian answered after what felt like hours, “it isn’t our place to say, my lady.” 

You nodded, a part of you had already known her answer. 

“Hazel please Lucienne.”

”Sorry my la- Hazel.”

Jesse, you had learned was the name of the possessed girl, giggled at an extremely, extremely horrid joke of Charles. 

“I don’t understand. That wasn’t funny,” Edwin said. 

Man he really needed to learn to conceal his jealousy better. 

“You and me both buddy,” you said more to yourself. 

“It’s alright mate, it isn’t exactly Victorian humour,” Charles said in between laughs. 

Charles and Jesse were clustered together on the couch, being unnecessarily touchy. Edwin was viewing them with a bitter scowl. 

You nudged him in the ribs lightly, “Someone is jealous.”

“Please, like she is someone a human or ghost could get jealous over.” 

Was he seriously that utterly daft?

“Eds I meant Charles,” you said it in a ‘duh that’s so obvious’ tone. 

“What?” He got immediately defensive. “Charles is my best friend, and nothing more. Nor do I wish him to be,” he jutted his chin out.

“Ok liar, pants on fire,” you squinted at him. 

“Hazel I don’t know how to prove that to you.”

You tittered, “prove it to yourself, love.” 

Edwin sat in deliberate consideration for a while. You glanced at the time, 9:00 pm, you were so tired but the day was young even though the moon was out. A part of you just wanted to escape your destiny and blah blah, but the part that was slowly growing attached to Dream didn't let you do so.

“Hazel?” Charles’ voice pulled you back. 

“Uh yeah,” 

“So tell her about it.”

“About what?” 

“About the case of the sea monster we solved a while back," he said with annoyance, "were you not listening to me?”

“Uh uh. No can do.” You got up, brushing imaginary flecks of dust from your pants. “Anyways lads, I am going to disintegrate myself into my beloved bed now where my beloved sleep awaits me.”

“Who are you and what have you done to my Hazel?” Charles pointed his fingers at you. 

“What?” You laughed. 

“Mate you have been going to bed at 9 pm for more than a week now, you, the one who put the sleep schedule of owls to shame.”

“Yeah I don’t know man I just feel super tired recently.”

“Everything's aces right?” Charles’ voice was concerned. 

“You just seem a lot distant lately,” Edwin added. 

“I do?” Genuine shock seeped into your tone. You needed to cover your tracks better. You fucking hated keeping things from them. Jesse looked curiously at you. 

“Yep boys everything's aces, it’s just called being in your 20's right?” You tried to lighten the atmosphere with a joke. 

They didn’t even seem half convinced but didn’t interfere further as you entered your room and subsequently the land of Dreams. 

The river babbled as it shimmered under the stars. Morpheus and you sat together after another training session. You were getting closer, both you and him were sensing it. You turned your head towards him, his dark eyes held the entire cosmos in them, and his cloak blended into the surroundings. Here in the dark, under the cover of the night, he almost felt like an extension of darkness itself. His hair was wild like always, falling on his forehead, and you had the sudden urge to glide your fingers through them and tuck them back. Embarrassing. 

“Do you wish to say something, mortal?” 

This time the mortal wasn’t used as a deriding remark, rather it had now become a term of endearment between you two. 

“Did you love her?” The question escaped you. 

Morpheus was silent. “Love who?” 

“Hope,” you said, her name on your tongue a weird sensation. 

He didn’t answer. But that was answer enough for you. Dream in love? The literal king of Dreams was capable of experiencing an emotion as tender as love? A pang of something hit your insides. Jealousy? No, can’t be. No way in hell you were falling for an Endless, least of all him. 

Time laughed somewhere in the universe. 

SERIES MASTERLIST✧˖°.

[kodtheshiftinggodd]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪MY MAIN REALITIES ִֶָ☾.

— ALT REALITY .ᐟ

i haven’t decided if i’ll be permashifting or respawning here yet. i won’t delve too much into this one as it’s just this reality with some tweaks. tbh, i have no problem with this reality other than my boyfriends mental health, the political climate, and just how shitty society is as whole.

my boyfriend definitely makes this reality so much better and i’m the happiest i’ve ever been/best mentally. but he does struggle with severe depression so idk. i won’t get into my personal fears. we both are gonna shift so he can be happier <3

the extra tweaks are just i added my dr friend group that’s in every reality, better financially, better political world, & i get to learn how to tattoo i live in a very small town & there’s nowhere for me to apprentice so yeah. that’s the jist for this reality. still haven’t decided if i’ll be permashifting or completely respawning there so <3 yep.

— AOT ALT REALITY .ᐟ

okay! so this one is just i am learning how to tattoo ( yes again ) except I moved to Oregon dream location to be Levi Ackerman’s apprentice. Oh, and for sure date Jean Kirstein. My usual friend group is scripted per usual & i added two of my shifting friends from this reality. My friend Hady has her own little coffee shop that I help out at. there’s also a mix of singing & content creation stuff in this as well minus the big crazy fame because i don’t wanna be recognized all the time. nothing too crazy in this one, pretty similar to my ALT REALITY…

— FANTASY REALITY .ᐟ

okay so this will literally be getting its own post because it’s so extensive. i usually refer to it as my VALERIAN REALITY as the place i live in is called Valeria yes i stole that from game of thrones, its a pretty name okay and i basically made it my OP/main character reality. to sum things up, i am the secret heir to the throne of Valeria, but i dont know it. i didnt script much to this, i want to be surprised on how i find out and all that. AOT is obvi scripted in, Paradis Island is where they live. uhhh I just didn’t script in the dumb dumb no brain titans that eat people and like- they know about other countries. the rumbling also never happens. the Marleyan Empire does exist but yeah no rumbling.

i didn’t script much for the lore of this but just based off like dr memories, readings, and dreams… Eldia and Valeria have this weird/cool connection that could bring on the “golden age of peace” so yes. once i become Queen i will ally with Eldia and after a good enemies to lovers with Jean, he will be King of Valeria. there’s a lot of memories and stories from this dr that i will make a whole separate post on <3 i am definitely like crazy connected to this dr already and so excited to shift here.

happy shifting <3

[sfstranslations]

Re the ask of "what ships do you guys prefer" and the three-way SFS implies always makes me think of that one Tumblr post: "underrated threesome dynamic of herding dog x lamb x wolf....it's about being caught between the grip of somebody who wants to protect you and somebody who wants to devour you and knowing that what they both share is a desire to possess you in your entirety" because if that doesn't just sum up the way those Sclasses feel about Yoojin 👀

This post? Definitely applicable to My S-Ranks, yep! (The full form of SFS isn't in reference to any ranks, but the point stands.)

[that-satireguy]

I love how transandrophobes assume that our activism begins and ends with expressing our opinions online 🙄 I had someone tell me that if I really cared about how trans men are negatively perceived then I'd be doing something to combat patriarchal oppression irl... as if I've not already been doing that. anyways I just feel like some people need the reminder that just because someone has expressed an opinion online, does not mean that you know everything about this person's life.

Yep, you summed it up

[woman-respecter]

https://www.tumblr.com/woman-respecter/769231651188408320/sorry-not-sorry-but-everyone-simping-for-that-guy

Honestly, I can understand the people who were specifically royally fucked over by this guy feeling some sense of catharsis over this bastard dying. I'm not exactly gonna lose sleep over it.

What makes me roll my eyes however is the sheer number of self-righteous chucklefucks who use this as either the foundation/expectation of some kind of "righteous revolution" against evil CEOs, while frankly I don't expect anything of significance to happen beyond typical copycat killers that may or may not (more than likely) end up only targeting people that they deem "rich and elite" but actually aren't anything more than convenient scapegoats for mob mentality.

Because let's face it, people are absolute shit at determining who "the enemy" actually is, and more often than not just butcher innocent people or easy targets because they're too cowardly to go after actually difficult but meaningful targets. It'd be another thing entirely if they'd gotten rid of the one certain major rich asshole whose currently behind so much of the propaganda of a certain site, because at least THAT have a chance of making a major difference in crippling a certain administration, but that'd require a level of guts and courage that I don't expect to happen anytime soon.

Also to be honest, the above is also just really endemic of the highly fucked up priorities of a lot of people, especially online: how much they romanticize acts of vigilante violence that, while outwardly cathartic, aren't exactly that effective in the long term because as much as we don't want to admit it, this CEO is just a cog in a fucked up system. He's replaceable and ultimately the company he led isn't gonna change their policies just because he's kicked the bucket.

In addition, a number of people don't really have any interest in doing anything of the sort because the image of being a "tough revolutionary against the evil establishment" is more important to them than actually doing anything meaningful. And this ESPECIALLY applies to the people who are cheering on this guy, but whom decided to not vote for the one woman who could have given us all a better future in a far more overall beneficial way out of their own twisted vanity and egotism.

Besides, we don't know diddly squat about this guy; I don't think it's particularly good to be projecting your own selfish hero fantasies onto someone who, for all we know, might not exactly be on the up and up. And if he does turn out to be a genuinely vile person, I expect a fair bit of backtracking from people, and for less scrupulous groups to take advantage of it and frame the people who support this as immoral hypocrites for more propaganda.

TL;DR: I'm not losing sleep over the bastard being dead and anyone who suffered because of him has a right to feel relieved that one of their tormentors is gone, but I feel like way too many people are just using this as an excuse to romanticize ineffective vigilante justice to overcompensate for their own impotence as "revolutionaries" while ignoring how the dead guy is just a cog in the big fucked up machine of medical insurance who can be replaced. Or more pessimistically, to try to cover up how much things could have been overall better if they'd prioritized doing the one thing that could have helped all of us a month earlier.

And that it's frustrating and disturbing how much people are valorizing a person that they know nothing about, despite the very real possibility that if he's revealed as a total scumbag, that their loud support right now could be used against them by our enemies. Which I need to note is pretty much part of the reason we're in this mess in the first place.

yep, the tl;dr sums up my feelings on the topic p well. idc that the greedy bastard died, i just hate the glorification of “revolutionary” violence.

[silentstyx]

"Three Lectures Behind and There's This Guy" ~ Lip Gallagher x Reader

tw! sexual references (it's shameless dawg...)

sum! "We got assigned as dorm roommates and I had such a crush on you last year and you don't even know who I am." (i lit found this on the ai fanfic trope so it'll be a little diff)

i rly wanted to write for my mans (do NOT tell my bf abt this one guys 😖) I'm js taking a break from only writing mbav for a sec ☝️🤓

Oh my god. This man. He was so hot. And rumor's say he's good in bed too?! You were freaking out just as much when you found out he was going to be your sorority house boy.

You saw him cooking one day and went absolutely feral. He was also the bartender at parties. Pouring drinks into peoples mouth straight from the bottles...

You noticed he wasn't there the next day after one of the parties. Or the day after that. Or the day after that? Then, never again. You later heard that he gotten kicked out of college. You never exactly found out why, there were rumors of course. Except, you never found out the exact reason.

Well you saw him when visiting Chicago, you were looking for cheap restaurants online nearby and patsy's diner was the first thing online. Only about a mile and a half away. You walk over there with some friends you were with, when you finally got there you saw the boy from your sorority house sitting at a table with a bunch of older looking guys.

Your whole friend group recognized him immediately and started freaking about how to ask him out. You rolled your eyes, tired of their banter. But also internally jealous of them potentially dating the guy you've had your eye on for practically forever.

You get sat at a table with everyone, you had the best angle of him from where you were sitting. Although you weren't going to stare at him the whole time. You all ordered the drinks you want, while you were searching the menu you saw that Lip got up. Our whole table complained, jokingly, but you saw he went in the kitchen.

I guess he works there?

The waitress came back and took your orders as well as your menus. A little while later, after your food came back, you got a sudden urge of confidence. You decided to finally talk to him.

You go up to the bar and ask to talk to Lip. The woman goes into the back to talk to him, as well as grabbing orders while she's back. He comes out, looking for a girl that would be looking for him that looks familiar.

"Uh, Lip?" You say, grabbing his attention. His brows furrowed but he has a smirk.

"You're that uh chick from college? In the sorority house?" He said, skeptically. Almost as if he wasn't completely sure.

"Yeah, you were our house boy. Uhm, i recognized you sitting at the table and I wanted to say hi." You try to explain.

He just nods his head with a small, interested, smile on his face.

"Okay, so I have a confession. When you got put in our house I had such a crush on you and you don't even know my name." You said, somewhat embarrassed.

He looks down, smirking, then looking right back up at you. Whispering back, "I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a few late night thoughts about you. But, uh, your name's *y/n* isn't it?"

You nod, smiling, "yep, thats me. So you're working here now?"

He licks his bottom lip, "Yeah, dishwasher. Sister is the manager, she's in charge of everyone."

You nod, showing him that you understand.

"So you wanna hang out sometime?" You ask him.

He looks at you, his devilish smile, "hang out or... go out?"

"Both?" your tone sounds more like a question now.

He snickers, agreeing to go out. You give him your phone and he puts his number in it. He then explains that he's gotta get back to work, you nod telling him you have to get to your table.

You go back to your table, they saw everything that had just happened. As soon as you sat down you were bombarded with questions. Some you answered, some you didn't. Except now, you don't have to worry about them getting the guy you want.