vertejay

[vertejay]

Sighs dreamily 🌞🌞

[vertejay]

How are we doing verte nation!!!!! I have a busy week ahead and I am extremely sleep deprived as always. 😛

[vertejay]

I just sighed dreamily #ilovemyman

Sukuna redraw

[vertejay]

TBIS MADE ME GIGGLE SO HARD I just got off val for the night HAHAHA

how i accidentally found my ex on valorant

rin itoshi x reader

synopsis: after your duo got banned for cheating, you queue into a swift play to cure your boredom only to run into a familiar username :)

you swear you won’t add them back, but after solo queuing and losing four games in a row - you're desperate to rank back up, and seeing as they carried you in the swift..

cw: swearing, inappropriate jokes, second chance?? enemies to lovers (sort of), lovers to exes to lovers again, crackfic

profiles

professional valorant players + bachira

soccer practice @ 6pm

masterlist

1// nagi, how did you get banned?

[vertejay]

MJ MY BABY

HIIIIIIIIII HOW ARE YOUUIUUUIYUU ☹️☹️☹️☹️

[vertejay]

𖣯 BLUE LOCK FRAGRANTICA

michael kaiser. alexis ness. otoya eita. baro shoei. oliver aiku.

fragrances and specific perfumes that i think blue lock characters would be attracted to based on their personality & preferences.

note 01 ⸻ implied fem reader. apologies if most of the perfumes listed below are more feminine-leaning. i just really don't like most of the masculine-leaning perfumes and so i tend to stay away from them. most of them make my head hurt for some reason.

note 02 ⸻ also named this hc after my favorite perfume website, aka fragrantica : ]

MICHAEL KAISER: ROSES, LYCHEE

𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐟

Delina is a delicious perfume with a fragrance of roses mixed with the juicy and fruity scent of lychee, and the base note of vanilla which adds a creamy feel. The sweet and slightly tart fruit balances out the crispness of the roses, which gives the floral aspect of the perfume a slight twist. The vanilla, on the other hand, binds the two prominent notes together to give it an almost creamy, velvety atmosphere.

It's canon that Kaiser loves roses, but I feel like just the flower itself is a noticeable reminder of the unhealthy parts of himself despite its typical association with him having power over himself and the people around him. The lychee balances this out by adding sweetness into the mix, and the plushness of the vanilla makes the typically crisp roses to smell more comforting. It makes him think of the petal's gentle caress rather than the sharp thorns digging against his skin.

ALEXIS NESS: VANILLA, LAVENDER

𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬

Oh, god, this perfume emits a sense of strong and independent. Alexis has always admired the types of people that are able to control their own "loneliness," and the feel of this perfume is synonymous to that.

Although the dominant note in this is vanilla, this is not the sweet and juvenile kind, rather, it is mature and put together. The vanilla is thick and rich, but is balanced out by the powdery-floral scent of lavender. It's clean, luxurious, and slightly bold at the same time. There is a deep and and very slight hint of spiciness in the opening which elevates the perfume's personality.

This is the type of vanilla worn by anyone who silently commands respect.

( note. this is my the perfume i dream to have lolol )

OTOYA EITA: MARSHMALLOW, WHIPPED CREAM

𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡

Sabrina Carpenter's Sweeth Tooth gives off a sweet and girly scent. It's light, sweet, and airy like taking you on a trip to cotton candy clouds. The marshmallow note that basically encapsulates the whole perfume mixed with the whipped cream plus the chocolate within its list of notes makes this sweet and perfect for someone youthful. It's sugary and powdery, like drinking sweetened milk with marshmallows on top.

I personally get the feeling that otoya's pretty into girly girls, like someone who likes to wear fluffy, light-colored clothing and likes to style their hair into cute hairstyles. This perfume captures that kind of vibe.

BARO SHOEI: WHITE FLORAL

𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚'𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐲 𝐨𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐬

Baro loves to clean, so I'm sure that he loves anything that smells clean as well. There are only three notes in Very Sexy Oasis which includes tuberose, orange blossom, and camelia, but the two white florals definitely stand out the most.

The fragrance is white and silky, almost similar to the scent of a creamy shampoo. It blends together to form this smooth and clean scent, like you're showering underneath a waterfall or bathing in a sunny oasis whilst surrounded by an array of white-petaled flowers. It's simple and straightforward—nothing complex unlike most of the perfumes that exist to boast about their beautiful complexity. This one is different—different in a way that is effortless.

OLIVER AIKU: COCONUT, VANILLA

𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐳𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬

Oliver Aiku. A womanizer. And you know what type of person fits a womanizer? A maneater who knows how to put them in their place—someone who knows out to lift the chess pieces and bring them to a checkmate. He likes a challenge, and this perfume is perfect for someone like that.

This perfume is sweet, warm, and slightly nutty from the coconut which gives it an exotic feel. Kind of like cracking open a coconut, drizzling the meat with coconut milk and vanilla, and inhaling its scent right beside the sea and underneath the hot sunlight. It definitely gives off the vibe of someone sensual and bold, completely unafraid to let go and just feel themselves. No one can ruin their vibe yk?

[vertejay]

Edit for a movie was so good it got me listening to the same bad bunny song for like 500+ minutes (im not spanish speaking).

[vertejay]

TY MEEYA ML houndoom my day one goat Im the most day one houndoom truther ever.

NO PRESSURE ! @stellar-headquarters , @mikiruie , @chlosology , @houseofstarlight ++ you!

starting a tag game because i'm obsessed with this pokemon team planner thing and i need to know all of your dream teams (if no one does this i will actually sob)

here's mine:

(it's okay if you don't know pokemon, there are options to filter out by type/colour/generation and you can just pick out whatever speaks to you)

tags: @stellar-headquarters, @3p1logu3, @kameyyy, @sahrberrii, @mayyhaps, @inloveinsickness, @bakery-anon, @earier, @nectardaddy + anyone who's reading this!

[vertejay]

The most bfs ever 🌚 THANK YOU SAHRI MY BELOVED

NO PRESSURE ! @mikiruie ++ you (I need more bllk moots 💔)

…plushies [link to the ‘picrew’] (feel free to rb w ur own !!)

[vertejay]

Just found out the itoshi brothers are inverted colors of each other dhmu.

[vertejay]

previous ﹐ m.list ﹐ next

note ﹐ use of yn, « die », light mode is readers pov

word count ﹐ .6k (656)

WINTER IS A SEASON, NOT A FEELING

You're “studying” in the campus library, but your notes are half way finished, laptop screen is off, book stuck with its page unturned, along with your highlighters and pens neatly capped. You haven't studied at all for the past 30 minutes. The words on the paper just blur together. You can't focus, but you can't bear to go to your dorm quite yet, either. It’s too late for the library, where the heat is busted, but just warm enough in contrast to the outside, yet too early to go back through the dreary winter campus.

A shadow looms over the desk. You swear you can feel the heat emitted off of him. Dragging a chair with an arrogance only he knows, and falls into it. His glance briefly flickers between you and the notes, ultimately landing on you. You can't read him, but youre beyond a tired that sleep can fix, so you save yourself the headache.

“Are you going to keep pretending like you're actually working?” He sounded bored, and taunting. If you weren't frequent, it would come as a surprise that he's talking to you, but in reality, he's trying to rush you out in his own way so he can close up.

He’s intrusive, not kind. But it managed to cut whatever tension was breathing itself to life.

You scoffed, “I'm sorry?” your hand twitches like it’s going to reach for a pen for the first time in at least 20 minutes. “I didn’t realize you owned it,” you decided to humor him, you knew he worked here and not by choice.

Sukuna stretches into the chair, making himself comfortable. Legs spread and arms draped over the back like it was made for him. “It’s after midnight,” his free hand gesturing to your notes, only to fall back in his lap, “you’ve been staring at the same paragraph for the past half an hour. You’re not fooling anyone.”

His words grate through you with ease, though not wrong.

“I wasn’t trying to fool anyone,” truth be told, you don’t know why you were entertaining this. Looking at another person was better than the uncomprehended, blurred words and going home.

“Is that why your highlighters are lined up like you're about to go under an operation?” They’re color coordinated, neat, and currently neglected.

“Illusion of control,” you shrugged. It earns a huff of breath being squeezed out of his lungs. Still under the weight of his stare.

“Is it working?” you almost crack a smile, but your shoulders slump instead. Your exhaustion weighs on you more than his stare and scrutiny. He notices the way your fingers go white holding onto the edge of the table as if it's the only thing anchoring you.

Soon, you notice it too and an exhale leaves quietly as you lean back into your chair. For a beat, you don’t respond and neither does he.

“You’re not the only one who doesn't want to go back out there,” you blinked at him, at first he sounds like he’s referring to the outside. You swear he is, it wouldn’t make sense for it to be anything else. There is an underlying meaning, you just can’t pick it up.

“It’s not the cold,” it leaves your mouth before you can think to stop it, “not really.”

Something in his eyes flickers, but you don’t elaborate and he doesn’t ask. It’s not as though he softens, considering it’s Sukuna, but the tension subtly shifts. Still taut and cautious, but not as sharp.

You both sit in silence for a moment too long-the presence isn’t quite friendly, but at least you weren’t alone. Just as the heat kicks on, a quiet hum follows suit. You take that as your sign to leave.

“I’ll let you close up,” the faint warmth welcomes itself against your skin as you collect the remnants of your belongings into your bag. Any trace of you now gone.

TAGLIST @ayatakanosstuff ,

[vertejay]

𖦹₊ ⊹ uraume ; icy mint, metal, and sake, crisp and precise. A whisper of burnt sugar, too subtle, but too specific to forget. Smells like someone who’s never known warmth, but never needed to. Offering a hand for sukuna to spit blood into and saying “spit it out, you dont need the warmth.” Learning how to make food they would never eat, because it seemed to matter to sukuna. Kneeling to an unopened door in the dead unwavering winter night. A silence that was sworn loyalty. A ceremonial knife, always in reach. A petit, worn handkerchief embroidered with a symbol of sorts. Recipes in delicate handwriting. A silver ring tucked away in a pocket.

[vertejay]

𖦹₊ ⊹ geto ; clove cigarettes and sandalwood, it carries this rich warmth that was always a little bitter. Expensive too. Temple incense and dried flowers, the kind that clings desperately onto your clothes like it’s meant to renew its life. Old smoke and sleepless nights, the resemblance of too many unspoken thoughts. Standing in a garden with ash on his fingers, full of unanswered questions. Laughing so hard with Gojo that everything ached all over. The crushing weight of responsibility. Looking at passersby and getting that slow, sinking feeling of “I used to love all of you.” A prayer bead bracelet, still worn out of habit, but it lost its shine and purpose long ago. A lighter with initials etched into it, they aren't his. A folded paper charm hidden in his pockets somewhere. Photographs with faces scratched out, out of regret, hiding his shame

[vertejay]

𖦹₊ ⊹ choso ; settled dust and warm earth, like he's a part of it in a way others aren't. Faintly of cinnamon, but strongly of sun-warmed skin. A tether to something simple, and standing in the afternoon light. His scent lingers, like comfort, like a nostalgic memory of summer you didn't know you had. Softly of lavender laundry detergent, something domestic and unassuming. Holding his younger brother's hands in the dark, an unspoken promise of protection from the world before they knew they needed it. The first time he laughed without guilt and wronging. Sitting on the floor with Yuji, sharing food in silence, grateful to be with another soul. Feeling too much and never knowing how to put it down. A chain bracelet he fidgets with, it belonged to one of his late brothers. A tattered hoodie he stole from yuji, long forgotten by his brother. Photos printed from an old phone, blurry and warm. A pack of crayons he just keeps for the sake of it.

[vertejay]

𖦹₊ ⊹ sukuna ; gunmetal and smoke, the kind that clings and sticks in places it probably shouldn't. Worn out hoodies like he's always on the cusp of something dangerous. Spiced amber and burnt cedar, it lingers. Sweat and cold air, like that of someone who walks everywhere. The faint scent of blood and metal-not literally of course, but the tension of it. His body is holding onto violence despite it never being asked of him. Getting in a fight at a young age, because someone looked at him like he was the problem, so he decided to become one, not out of anger. A house that was too loud when it shouldn't have been, and utterly silent when he needed the noise the most. Sitting on the roof with a cigarette and no one noticing he’s gone. Being told he’d never be good for anyone and almost believing it. Seeing someone look at him with fear, liking it, then hating himself for it. A lighter that doesn't work, yet flicked over and over again. Maybe stolen, definitely sentimental. Rings, not the flashy kind, but heavy ones like a layer of protection. A knife in his bedside table drawer, but not out of necessity. A pair of scuffed up boots that he absolutely refuses to throw away, soles worn down beyond repair, but they’ve been through everything with him. An old polaroid of him and his late twin brother, tossed between textbooks. They’re disregarded like he doesn’t care, he does. Carries the room without trying and the kind of presence that has you doing a double take. Smiles like it’s daring you, and laughing like he knows something you don't. Sharp-tongued but doesn’t waste words. Doesn’t trust easily. Lonely in a way that a wild animal would only know, doesn't want to be tamed but ache to be understood.

[vertejay]

I KNOW YOURE NOT THE ONE IM LOOKING FOR . . .

𖦹₊ ⊹ satans asshole 𖡎 m.list

psst . . . click the names for details

𖦹₊ ⊹ sukuna ; He's not what you wanted. He's not gentle. Not safe either. But he’s there. He sees through people, and in his own unique way, he sees through you too. He doesn't pry, but mocks, and makes snide comments picking apart your far too perfect facade, nonetheless, he notices. Whatever it is in the way he doesn't ask you to open up, makes you feel seen. Treating your vulnerability not with pity but recognition. Like he knows what it’s like. He’s warm, in that meniscus, burning way. Like a fireplace that isn't safe once you step too close, yet you dare to regardless. He doesn’t promise forever. He doesn't pretend to love you. Yet he holds you, calls out to you, and in those fleeting moments, it feels like he does. Even just for a moment, just a temporary thought. A heat that won't last, he's a terrible choice, and you should know better. But when you're freezing, even the most god awful fires feel like salvation.

𖦹₊ ⊹ choso ; who needed someone worse to make him feel human, they met at a fighting ring. There was nothing on the line that night, just rage. Sukuna had already made a name for himself here. Yet Choso, who wasn't supposed to win—and didn’t—lasted long enough to make an impression on sukuna. Afterwards, sukuna with a blank, bloodied face emitted by the soft light from his lighter as he lit up a smoke. He said something in passing to choso, and choso without a beat, not so much as sparing him a glance, said a witty response back and sukuna laughed. Choso stayed because sukuna did not pity him, and that was enough kindness anyone had shown him.

𖦹₊ ⊹ geto ; a reflection staring back, meeting in a philosophy class that neither needed, but always found themselves at. Sukuna was sitting in the back, the only thing readable about him was that he had this arrogant air to him. He was noticed immediately by Geto, because he was contained. Like something being shown off behind a glass enclosure. When sukuna finally spoke in the class, Geto let out a stiff laugh, like he understood. “I enjoy watching everyone pretend like they believe it,” that was what Geto said to Sukuna, and that was enough for them to click—with this mutual understanding. Trading observations that were stuck binded in judgement and a certain brilliance only they understood. Not that they necessarily saw eye to eye, but they saw each other. Geto didn't try to fix him, neither did Sukuna try to impress Geto. There was a silent agreement and purity in that kind of detachment they discovered. Geto stayed because Sukuna was the only person that never expected him to change something he couldn't let go of, or justify. They would smoke together, walk late at night. A little more than acquaintances, but less than friends—they had simply tapped into something rotten inside of the other.

𖦹₊ ⊹ uraume ; time already spent waiting, they were already there before the scars and trauma before it could manifest. Uraume attached themselves quietly to Sukuna through shared experiences and childhood. Showed up with food without being asked, walked quietly beside him without the need to conversate. They seldom talk, but they belong. Like snow to winter—it's inevitable, cold, and constant. Uraume stayed because they knew what he was and followed anyway.

[vertejay]

𖦹₊ ⊹ megumi ; rain water, pine, and the crisp cold air that bites, subtle and clean, similar to the state before a storm. Lingering of old books and ink, you only smell it when your head is too far spent in solitude. For someone who never thinks about how he smells, he always manages to smell like home. Falling asleep in the back of the class, still in uniform, like it was the safest place in the world. It was the safest place he knew. The ambient ringing of his sisters laugher through the halls, unforgettable and soft, it’s burned into his memory. Hands clenched, hidden underneath the table during family visits, trying desperately not to want. The first time he told someone no and didn't apologize. A watch with a cracked face, yet still ticking. A gift from gojo. Notebooks with rushed and unfinished thoughts. Never finished but never tossed. A small, forgotten origami fox tucked away in his desk. Headphones that are tangled, and too loud for the moments he wants to hide in plain sight.