#an interesting experiment!! i might do more of these!

[myerssimp21]

Iceberg's Jewel pt. 1

This is just another idea rattling around in my head! While this is still yandere Batfam, the premise is slightly different—here, they haven’t quite met you yet. The focus starts with Oswald Cobblepot and the Iceberg Lounge, but trust me, the Batfamily won’t be far behind. Timeline-wise, this would technically come first, even though in my other yandere Batfam fics, Tim and Jason have already had their moments with you. So yes, there will be a plot hole later where they’ve somehow already hooked up with you—just roll with it. Consider it canon-ish, but mostly just me playing around with ideas. tl;dr: This is a prequel of sorts to my other yandere Batfam fics, but I’m mostly here to have fun with the concept. Hope you enjoy! 💙 word count: 3201

Oswald Cobblepot prided himself on running a tight ship. The Iceberg Lounge was a beacon of opulence in Gotham, catering to a clientele that wanted their danger with a side of champagne. When he put out that little “Help Wanted” sign as a joke—an amusing way to signal to the people he was looking for that he was ready to onboard—he hadn’t expected someone like you to waltz in.

You were nervous but bright-eyed, clutching a copy of your résumé (how quaint) in one hand, wearing a Gotham University sweater that screamed student loans and part-time hustle. The smile you gave him when he walked into the lounge floor was disarming—too genuine for this city. You asked to speak to someone about the janitorial position, and Os had to bite back a laugh.

“A janitor? Here? Sweetheart, you might be too good for this place,” he muttered under his breath, too quietly for you to hear, before waving a hand dismissively at one of his goons. “Send her to my office.”

His office wasn’t where interviews were usually held—far too personal, far too… revealing. But for some reason, he wanted to gauge you himself. Maybe it was your naivete; maybe it was the way your gaze lingered on the crystal chandeliers and plush carpets like you’d never seen luxury this close before. You were looking at him as a normal boss, not a criminal mastermind, and he realized he might like that.

By the time you’d been seated in the chair across from his polished mahogany desk for only 15 minutes, he was already hooked. He asked simple questions at first—your availability, your experience—but quickly veered into territory that let him know more about you. Your classes at Gotham U were interesting, but you worked too much to fully appreciate them. You loved your psychology major but struggled with scheduling, hoping that the pay here was more than the measly pay you scrounged from your other two jobs. He listened with great interest as you spoke of your genuine excitement to be working in a "classy place like this."

He didn’t have the heart to tell you this place wasn’t really classy—just good at pretending.

Cobblepot tilted his head, the curiosity in his expression sharpening as he tapped a finger against the arm of his chair. “You’re not from here, are you?” he asked, a sly grin forming. “So, what do you think of our little city?”

“Oh, uh…” You laughed nervously, shifting in your seat. “It’s… something, that’s for sure. Gotham’s kinda like… I don’t know, a scrappy mutt? It bites, like, a lot, but you can’t help but wanna pet it anyway. It’s scrappy and loveable.”

Oswald chuckled, the sound low and genuine. “Lovable?” he repeated, shaking his head. “You’re a strange one. Most people run for the hills when it comes to Gotham.”

“Yeah, well…” You shrugged, the faintest smile tugging at your lips. “I’m already here, so I might as well figure it out, y’know? Plus, it’s not all bad. I mean, the people are tough, and the city’s got… personality. A weird, messed-up personality, but still.”

He found himself appreciating your honesty. It was a rare thing in his world—people who weren’t either trying to butter him up or wring him dry. And that smile… Hm. Something about it didn’t belong here.

Then, the door to his office slammed open. A goon stumbled in without so much as a knock, huffing like a dog chasing its own tail as he fumbled a thick stack of papers in his hands.

Oswald snapped to attention so fast it was animalistic. One second, he was relaxed, bemused by you—the next, his face contorted with fury, his lips curling back in a snarl that made the dim office feel suddenly suffocating.

“What?” Cobblepot snarled, his tone cutting like ice. The very air in the room seemed to turn electric, humming with the promise of violence.

The goon froze mid-step, eyes darting between you and his boss. He looked like he’d just walked into an execution chamber by mistake.

Oswald’s teeth clenched so tight a vein throbbed visibly in his temple. “You knock before coming into my office,” he seethed, voice dropping to something far more dangerous than the initial explosion. Cold. Calculating. A blade slipping between ribs. “You wait. You don’t—”

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw you.

Frozen.

Wide-eyed.

And just like that, the change was immediate.

His snarl vanished. The storm passed in an instant, like flicking off a switch. The barely-contained rabid rage that had been twisting his face smoothed into something almost… embarrassed. Guiltily casual.

Cobblepot glanced back at you, then at the goon, then back at you. For a brief, telling second, he looked—not regretful, but calculating. Then he sighed through his nose, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off an unpleasant thought.

"Handle it later," he ordered, voice abruptly warm. Silk-soft. As if he hadn’t just been inches from taking a man’s head off. His hand flicked lazily toward the door, a dismissive gesture. “Can’t you see I’m with someone?”

The goon scuttled out of the room like a kicked dog, the papers in his hands rustling violently as he clutched them to his chest.

The moment the door shut, Oswald let out a measured breath, as if centering himself. Then, in a whiplash-inducing shift, he turned back to you with an awkward, almost sheepish smile.

"Sorry about that,” he said, voice dripping with artificial sweetness, as if his outburst had never happened. He waved a hand, dismissing it entirely, his gaze keenly watching your expression for any lasting tension. “Some of my employees just don’t have any manners.”

You offered a polite, thin smile, still shaken, but brushed it off with a shrug. You had already figured this place wasn’t exactly warm and welcoming, but the speed at which his fury had vanished was... unsettling.

Oswald noticed.

He noticed everything.

And for the first time in a long, long while… he wasn’t sure if he liked the way your smile still had a hint of nerves clinging to it.

The Batcave was unusually quiet, save for the faint tapping of Tim’s keyboard and the low hum of the monitors. Bruce sat at the console, watching the live feed from Oswald Cobblepot’s office. You were seated across from the Penguin, a mixture of nerves and polite excitement etched on your face. The Iceberg Lounge’s chandelier lights reflected in your wide eyes as you gestured animatedly, your Gotham University sweater and résumé betraying your earnestness in a city that thrived on deception.

“Can’t decide if she’s brave or just clueless,” Tim remarked, leaning back slightly as he toggled between camera feeds. “She walked into Cobblepot’s lair with a résumé. A résumé, Bruce.”

“She’s a student trying to make ends meet. That’s not bravery—it’s necessity.”

Damian’s voice crackled through the comms. “She really responded to a ‘help wanted’ ad? Tt. Typical. Of course that bloated bird would choose a naive one. She’ll probably end up scrubbing vomit out of his VIP lounge carpets.”

Tim tutted thoughtfully at Damian’s comment. “I mean…..he’s probably aiming higher than janitorial work for her. Did you hear the way he sweetened his voice?”

Damian scoffed but didn't reply. 

A new voice broke in over the comms—Dick, speaking from his position on patrol. “You think she knows what she’s getting into? Working there isn’t exactly safe.”

“She doesn’t,” Bruce answered simply, “But that doesn’t make her unique. Plenty of people stumble into Gotham’s underworld without realizing it. We can’t save everyone.”

Tim muttered, “Still doesn’t mean we should ignore it. If Penguin’s targeting her for something, we’ll want to know why.”

Damian chimed in again, his tone slightly mocking. “We already know why, Drake. He likes his toys naïve, optimistic, and disposable. She won’t last a week before she gets a reality check—or worse.”

Bruce’s eyes flicked toward the feed as Cobblepot stood, offering you a hand and gesturing toward the door. “They’re moving,” Bruce said. “Tim, keep the office feed rolling, and find another camera angle.” 

“We won’t have audio and depending on where he’s taking her, I’m not sure we’ll have visuals either.”

There was a moment of silence, the kind that spoke volumes in the Batcave.

Dick broke it. “She’s smart enough to know what Cobblepot is, right? I mean, who walks into the Iceberg Lounge thinking it’s just a nightclub?”

“People who don’t know Gotham,” Tim replied, scrolling through files, soaking in what he can on you. “..She’s a psych major at Gotham U, full-time. She’s been juggling two jobs already, so she’s probably just desperate for the paycheck.”

Damian’s tone turned sharper. “Desperation or not, she’s still a fool. You don’t wear a sweater with your university’s name on it when you waltz into the lion’s den.”

Tim smirked. “Guess she didn’t take Gotham’s prerequisite: Street Smarts 101.”

The screen now displayed the empty office, Cobblepot’s desk abandoned. You were out of their sight, and for the moment, out of their reach. But the Batfamily wasn’t about to let you disappear into the darkness of Gotham without a trace. Tim was scrambling to find a feed that would give them info as to where Cobblepot’s taking you, but at the very least, they have relevant info on you.

Dick’s voice again. “Did you hear her in that interview? ‘Lovable but scrappy.’” He smiled faintly at the words. “She actually likes Gotham. We should keep it that way.”

Tim again, confirming some details. “Transferred to Gotham U from out of state. No criminal record, no red flags.”

Damian’s voice cut in, sharp and dry. “Other than walking into the Iceberg Lounge with a résumé. That’s a red flag for stupidity.”

Dick countered, his tone softer now. “She doesn’t know any better. Give her a break.”

Jason laughed, his voice snarky over the comms line from his own patrol. “Oh, sure, Grayson. Let’s all gather around and shield her from the big bad city. What’s next, care packages?”

Dick sighed audibly, “Don’t you have a crime boss to scare right now?”

Jason chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Already done. You should’ve seen the look on his face. Priceless.” Another faint noise came through, likely the reloading of a gun.

Bruce’s voice cut through before Dick could respond. “Enough. Focus, Jason.”

“Whatever you say, B,” Jason replied breezily, though the teasing lilt was still in his voice. “I’ll keep an eye out, too, just in case our scrappy little friend stirs up any trouble at the Iceberg.”

Damian snorted. “I’ll enjoy seeing Cobblepot’s face when she quits.”

Bruce didn’t respond right away. His eyes lingered on your face, captured mid-smile on the monitor. Quietly, he murmured, “She’ll need another job. A safe one. I’m sure Wayne Enterprises will have something available for her.”

“Keep me updated,” Batman ordered as he stood, his cape swishing as he headed toward the Batmobile. “If she gets in over her head, we’re pulling her out. No debates.”

Damian’s voice came back, quieter this time, reluctant. “She’s already in over her head.”

Little did they know, Oswald Cobblepot’s schemes for you were the furthest thing from exploitative labor. In his mind, the idea of you actually toiling away with a mop and bucket was quickly becoming unthinkable—borderline offensive, even.

The moment he saw the way your eyes sparkled with hope and determination, and saw the way you'd listed your good grades on your resume in a hopeful attempt at impressing him and proving your aptitudes, he’d decided he’d let you sleep on the job if you wanted to. Hell, he’d set up a whole suite in the back of the Lounge if it kept you close and content. You could waste time dusting the empty liquor shelves or filing nonexistent paperwork all day if it made you feel productive. What mattered to him wasn’t what you did—it was that you were here, where he could keep an eye on you.

But of course, Cobblepot wouldn't admit that to himself. Not yet, at least. No, this was just “good business,” he rationalized. You were a valuable asset—your charm and friendliness were enough to lighten up even the Iceberg’s darkest corners. You had a way of making the whole place feel... welcoming and warm, like you were untouched by Gotham’s grime and crime. Plus you wanted to be productive. He scoffed under his breath, amused. Of course one of the first fresh faces ready to work at the Lounge was also someone who he didn’t dream of involving in his actual operations. Just his luck.

So, if you decided you needed an afternoon nap in the dusty janitorial closet? He’d send a goon to bring you a pillow. If you scoured the cleaning supply catalog for hours without actually ordering anything? He’d find it endearing. As long as you were happy and oblivious to the underworld swirling just beneath the Lounge’s polished surface, you could do whatever you wanted.

Unbeknownst to them all, while they debated your safety, Oswald was sitting back in his office, already plotting ways to make your life easier. Sure, he’d keep up the charade of being your boss for now—keep you busy with harmless tasks so you didn’t get suspicious. But he wasn’t about to let you work too hard. Not his sweet, naive new hire.

You didn’t belong in Gotham’s shadows. And as far as Oswald Cobblepot was concerned, he’d make sure you never had to find out just how dark they could get. Or at least, he’d try. 

By the time Oswald walked you to the janitorial closet—a tiny, forgotten room in the back of the lounge—he was already plotting how to keep you close. The closet was practically empty, a detail that normally wouldn’t bother him, but the way your face fell at the sight made him want to slap whoever was supposed to manage the damn place.

"Um… is this where I’m supposed to… work?" you asked softly, your voice unsure as you peeked into the empty closet. Your eyes darted around, taking in the barren shelves and dusty floor, as though you’d missed some hidden stash of supplies. "It just… doesn’t look ready yet?"

"Ah… this won’t do," he said quickly, covering his irritation with a smooth smile. "Looks like someone’s dropped the ball here. Don’t you worry about this, darlin’. I’ll get one of my guys on it—someone reliable. You’ll have everything you need to get started." 

His tone was honeyed, and though he aimed for casual reassurance, his sharp eyes flickered to the shelves like he wanted to set the whole closet ablaze for offending you. For fuck’s sake.

“No, no, this won’t do at all,” Oswald said again, shaking his head and clucking his tongue like he was personally offended by the state of the janitorial closet. “You deserve better than this mess, darlin’. I’ll have it sorted by tomorrow, you have my word.”

You blinked at him, “If you want me on the job today, I can make something work,” you offered tentatively, gesturing toward the dusty shelves. “I’ve been in worse spots before.” You gave him a sheepish smile, trying to seem accommodating.

Cobblepot scoffed softly, waving a dismissive hand. “No, no, absolutely not. I won’t have my new employee starting off in such... subpar conditions. It’s a poor reflection on me, and I can’t have that, now can I?” He straightened his tie with an air of exaggerated importance before leaning on his cane. “Here’s what we’ll do instead. You take the night to get familiar with the Lounge—on the house, of course. Have some drinks, relax, mingle a bit. Consider it my way of welcoming you to the team.”

You blinked again, even more confused. “Oh, um, that’s really generous, but shouldn’t I, like… fill out some paperwork first? Or sign something?”

Oswald chuckled, a warm, low sound that almost made you feel silly for asking. “Paperwork? We’ll handle all that boring nonsense tomorrow. No need to rush into the dull parts of the job, eh?” He gestured toward the door, ushering you back into the main lounge. “For tonight, enjoy yourself. Swing by the bar, meet some of the staff, maybe say hello to the security team. It’s important to me that you feel comfortable at the Iceberg.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was some sort of test, but his expression was disarmingly sincere. “Well… if you’re sure…”

“Positive,” he interrupted, clapping a hand on your shoulder with surprising gentleness. “Now, off you go. The night’s young, and the Lounge is at your disposal.”

As you stepped out of the closet and back into the opulent main floor, you glanced over your shoulder to see him watching you with a smile that seemed too genuine for someone of his reputation. You didn’t know him, but you’d heard some things. 

Unbeknownst to you, Cobblepot wasn’t just offering you free alcohol or a night to relax—he was staking his claim. He wanted you to feel at home, to see the Lounge as a safe haven, a place you’d always want to return to. Sure, there’d be paperwork eventually, but for now, the only thing that mattered was keeping you here, comfortable and unaware of the darker dealings hidden beneath the glamour.

Tim leaned back in his chair, toggling between the camera feeds inside the Iceberg Lounge. He was alone in the Batcave now, the others out on patrol in the city. “Well, there she is,” he muttered, zeroing in on his view of you at the bar. You were perched on a sleek barstool, your Gotham University sweater a stark contrast to the high-end fashion of the Lounge’s usual clientele. “She’s… drinking. A lot.”

Jason, freshly back from patrol—or what little of it he actually bothered to finish—sauntered into the Batcave, pulling off his helmet and setting it down with a thud. “That’s her?” he asked, nodding toward the screen.

“Yeah,” Tim replied without looking away. “You decided to show up?” His eyes flickered to the time down at the bottom of his monitor. "Thirty minutes early? B's not gonna be thrilled."

Jason ignored the jab, stepping closer to get a better look. “Huh,” he muttered, crossing his arms as his sharp eyes drank you in. You were laughing at something the bartender said, your cheeks flushed. You gestured animatedly with your glass while saying something they couldn't hear. “She doesn’t look like much.”

Tim raised an eyebrow, glancing up at Jason. “That’s what you cut patrol short for? To see her in person?”

Jason shrugged, his gaze fixed on you. “I was curious. Heard you and Damian going back and forth about her. Figured I’d check it out for myself.” His lips quirked into a faint smirk. “Didn’t expect her to be… this.”

Tim tilted his head. “This what?”

Jason gestured vaguely at the screen. “This… normal. Sweater, messy hair, drinking like she’s celebrating her midterms being over. Doesn’t scream ‘Iceberg Lounge material,’ y’know?”

Tim chuckled, toggling to another camera feed for a better angle. “That’s kind of the point. She thought she was interviewing for a janitorial position, Jason. Janitorial.”

Jason blinked, then snorted. “You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was,” Tim said, leaning back in his chair. “She walked in there with a résumé—an actual paper résumé—and asked about cleaning floors or whatever. Cobblepot probably laughed his ass off before offering her a drink.”

“He’s footing the bill by the way,” Tim added, toggling to a feed that showed the Penguin subtly watching you from across the room as he conversed with some guests. “She hasn’t reached for her wallet once. He’s just… letting her.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed as he studied the Penguin’s expression. There was no malice there yet, no obvious scheme in motion. Instead, Cobblepot looked almost… satisfied, like he was pleased with what he was seeing. “The hell’s his angle?” Jason muttered, his top lip curling in disgust at the possibilities.

“No idea,” Tim replied. “But if I had to guess? He’s trying to butter her up. Make her think the Lounge is a safe place, keep her happy and oblivious while he decides what to do with her.”

Jason scoffed, leaning back against the console.”She won’t last a week.”

Tim smirked. “You’re awfully invested for someone who just met her. Maybe you should prep a care package.”

“I didn’t meet her,” Jason shot back, though his eyes flicked back to the screen almost involuntarily. “I’m just saying, someone needs to give her a reality check before she gets eaten alive.”

“Maybe,” Tim said, watching as you swayed slightly to the music, chatting with another patron who’d joined you at the bar. “But she doesn’t look like she’s in danger. Yet.”

Jason grunted, pushing off the console and grabbing his helmet. “Yeah, well, I’m keeping an eye on this one. If Penguin tries anything, I’m ending it.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so now you’re helping? Didn’t you just skip the last half of your patrol?”

Jason smirked as he turned toward the exit. “Hey, monitoring Gotham’s underworld is part of the job, isn’t it? I’m just doing my part.”

Tim shook his head with a laugh as Jason disappeared up the stairs. “Sure you are.”

Back on the screen, you were oblivious to the scrutiny, to the way the curiosities of Gotham's vigilantes were beginning to blossom into something more.

[eternalbuckley]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ lady!reader (regency au)

Dearest gentle reader, this author is more than delighted to introduce you to Lady Y/N. A lady that was born into London’s high society as the oldest child of a Duke and Duchess. The world of London‘s high society is filled with romance, friendship, scandals, rumours and secrets that want to remain hidden. But be forewarned, dear reader, this author has her eyes everywhere and nothing shall go unnoticed. As we embark into a new social season, I find myself pondering some most intriguing questions: Will Lady Y/N succeed in securing a match in this season? And will her reputation remain unsullied or will she find herself embroiled in scandal? I shall assure you, if any noteworthy event comes into my notice, I shall be the first to bring it to your attention. May this season promise us to be a truly unforgettable experience. Yours truly, Lady Whistledown.

lady!reader is witty, sarcastic, confident and may appear innocent but she might surprise you. she doesn’t let others treat her with disrespect and holds them accountable when necessary. she isn‘t as innocent as some might think.

lady!reader who seems like an open book but has sides to her that only her closest people know about. some are just reserved for a possible partner — sides only they can unveil.

lady!reader is someone who loves to read with her friends, take walks or spend time in nature. she loves to have fun and doesn’t care what other’s truly think about her, even if it‘s not appreciated by society to behave such ways. but be aware, there is so much more ready to be revealed.

lady!reader who has caught the attention of many people — possible partners are among them. the gender doesn’t truly matter to her. she is aware of the risks that come with her interests but she doesn’t care.

lady!reader who wants to fall in love with someone who truly wants and loves her regardless of her status. she wants something real and wouldn’t mind not to marry at all if she won‘t find what she wants.

navigation. | harry potter masterlist. | lady!reader

© eternalbuckley 2025. // I do not give you permission to modify, copy, translate or repost any of my works and creations on other platforms. I do not give you the permission to claim them as your own. I do not give you permission to use anything of my work and creations for any ai related things. I only post my works on tumblr, if you find my work anywhere else please let me know!

a/n: this au is completely inspired by bridgerton, especially lady whistledown — i'm using her solely for the purpose of the gossip society papers (like it's in the show and books). that's it!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

curious about your take on riddle's dream. i have seen people en masse claim that riddle yearns to a deliquent/"if he wasn't traumatized, he would be in a pop music club" and... it feels like such a literal interpretation (although there are some who are obv just joking) to the point of misinterpretation? i'm not very invested in riddle's story arc, but to me it read like a pretty clear "what if i was the worst version of myself (which riddle has been raised to see as being disobedient) and i was still loveable".

[You can read my thoughts on the book 7 chapter 12 part 3 update here!]

I think there’s a lot of different ways to interpret the dreams because of how… vaguely they’re written + their length + every player coming into the dreams with their own experiences which inform their POVs. For this reason, I don’t feel comfortable outright stating X or Y interpretation is “wrong”, and nor do I wish to be used as a means to validating one interpretation over the others. All I’m going to do this ask is explain how I personally interpreted Riddle’s dream. That’s all.

I don’t think Riddle wants to be a delinquent; this would be conflating a child’s desires to that of a delinquent. Yes, Riddle was detained be a police officer—but not for any violence or serious criminal actions. He was detained for singing in front of the police station (without a license) and causing a public disturbance (because of his amplifiers). Furthermore, Riddle doesn’t engage in any other criminal behaviors (unless you count not going to school, but a minor isn’t usually held liable for that; the onus is on his parents for not sending him). I think it would be more accurate to say that Riddle’s wishes are very child-like ones. He wants to be able to play with his friends all day, he ignores studying and obeying rules, he can eat tarts and drink sugary tea whenever he wants, he has doting parents that are always emotionally there for him, etc. These are not marks of delinquency, they are the innocent longings of an inner child that never got to be recognized.

While I don’t think it’s a guarantee that Riddle would be in Pop/Light Music Club had he had a more lenient mother, I do think that Riddle would want to explore creative outlets. He is noted as having a very strong imagination, but is limited in his life experiences and struggles to think for himself or to act outside of the concrete, as is defined by rules and laws. If these restraints were loosened up and he had actually been allowed and encouraged to explore other avenues, he might have found an interest in the arts and expressing himself through that. It could be a visual medium, a written medium, a musical medium, whatever.

I think music is what we jump to right away because he has a band in the dream, but I could easily see him dabbling in other areas too. Maybe music was chosen because it’s a group activity, and Riddle longs to be that setting. A happy family, a boy with lots of friends, you name it. You could also argue that Riddle went with music because that’s what he knew from his dorm members. Adeuce are in athletic clubs, which Riddle is sort of rubbish at, and Trey is in Science Club, which of course covers topics Riddle would already be studying irl. Cater’s club is the only one with a significant degree of creativity allowed. Riddle might have based his hobby in the dream off of Cater’s experiences. One telltale detail that supports this theory is that Riddle mentions people keep leaving because the band can’t stick to one genre, which is also true of Cater’s irl Pop/Light Music Club. Another thing to consider is that Riddle is able to conjure the look of delicious cakes and cookies but not replicate the taste because he’s not familiar with it. You could say this is also true of his being in a band. He looks the part, but we never hear him participating in it—perhaps because Riddle could have seen Cater rushing to a club meeting in his outfit, but not have actually heard him play. Therefore, it’s possible that Riddle’s dream is just pulling from his shallow understanding of what “being in a band” is about… the camaraderie of it. This, again, loops us back to Cater’s relationship with his fellow club members. It’s less about the actual playing and more about the vibes and hanging out with one another. Maybe Riddle heard stories from Cater about this and got curious? This same logic applies to other aspects of his dream. He seems to emulate what he has heard from his dorm members in general. Loving parents who are there for him (like Trey), the bout of delinquency (like Deuce), the ability to speak his mind (like Ace). Riddle is wanting to be more like his peers, who were able to have “normal” experiences. To me, it feels like he used his dorm members as templates (which he combined with his own desire to have a fulfilling childhood) because Riddle himself doesn’t have a clear concept of what it means to live freely. After all, he only has like 1-2 months of playing with Trey and Chenya to go off of compared to a few years with his Heartslabyul classmates.

As I said earlier in this post, I don’t think the Riddle we see in the first layer of his dream is meant to be “the worst version of himself” or “Riddle but disobedient”; it reads as more of Riddle indulging in everything he missed out on in his childhood. Sweets, parental love, playing all day with friends, loudly and openly expressing himself through music, exploring creative ventures, making happy memories… I don’t believe these are bad things or borne out of Riddle wanting to be rebellious or disobedient, they’re just consequences of acting like a kid.

I do find it interesting that so many aspects of himself were entirely written over. However, I don’t see it as Riddle thinking he has to be a different person (as in, having a different personality?) in order to be worthy of love. Riddle was definitely still able to make friends as a child even with the quiet personality he had then. It was possible. Nothing in his backstory makes me think Riddle believes he wasn’t deserving of love—but he may think that love has to be earned, that love is conditional. And what is that condition? Following the rules, obeying, performing well in exams. That’s what he was taught would earn him success and his mother’s love and that’s what he enforced in early book 1. I think… Riddle definitely wants to be someone else, but in the sense that he wants to be born into different circumstances. Parents that get along, a dad that has time for him, a mom that dotes on him, no magic, no expectations to shoulder, lax rules, etc. This ties in with Riddle wanting to live the childhood he feels he never had. A childhood where he had no friends, where he studied all the time, where his mother calorie counted for him, where he was not allowed to play video games or watch movies, where he was not allowed to choose his own clothes or career or anything. Several of these sentiments were expressed post-OB.

Now that being said, everything I just discussed covers only the first layer of Riddle’s dream. I see the idea of Riddle thinking he has to be someone else coming through a little stronger in the second layer of his dream. That’s the part where everyone is being chased through the destroyed rose maze. Here, we see a much more extreme and even more domineering Riddle than what we saw in book 1. He lords over his students such that even his versions of Ace and Deuce have fallen into line and mindlessly follow his commands. The mob students are scared of him—and though Riddle is aware of it, he is content. They salute him and praise him for his iron fist. He is the most correct, after all. He is ruling just as his mother would, he is being the person his mother wants him to be.

This is expanded upon further in the third layer of his dream, in which he faces his inner darkness. Riddle confronts the truth: that he is desperate to cling onto the dorm leader seat, because that’s all he has going for him. He has driven away his classmates, who fear him and resent him. There’s his mother, but she has not granted him the affection he craves, and her approval is conditional. He is alone and unloved. This potentially recontexualizes details seen in earlier layers. Why is Riddle in a band? Maybe because he wants to be like Cater, who seems easygoing and approachable. Why does Riddle live many other aspects of his dorm members’ lives? Why do the characters conjured by Riddle’s darkness to fully believe that Cater wants to transfer to Scarabia—a dorm known for having a friendly and relaxed leader? It could suggest an insecurity in Riddle, a worry that he, as he is, is not enough. Not smart enough for his mother’s approval, not kind or cheery or normal enough to make friends. So all he has is his crown, which he reverently claims to. It’s one of the few things he has to call his own, a decision he made for himself and something he earned through his own merit.

But ultimately, I see Riddle’s truest desire as… being his own person, having his own independence and things he chose for himself. Not letting himself be ruled by the shadow of his mother. (His Phantom fittingly seems to dangle him on strings, as if Riddle is its puppet or marionette.) It doesn’t mean complete chaos or anarchy, and it doesn’t mean being like other people. It means defining his own rules for how he should live. Walking forward on his own path. Making his own identity, not tied down to that of his mother. Riddle is so used to being to do what to do or how to be—by his mom, by some arbitrary set of rules. The fact that he confesses to the things he actually wants after his OB… that he wants to stand up to his mother over winter break… that he confronts the dream version of his mom with the declaration that he will open this door with his own hand, that he will walk forward on his own path… I think that says a lot.

…. Weeeeell, like I said at the start, that’s one interpretation 🤷‍♀️ It’s not necessarily “correct”, and it’s liable to change (especially since all of this information is still very fresh; I’m still taking the time to digest it myself). The wibbly wobbly dream magic is open enough to invite all kinds of interpretations, so I encourage you to take this all with a grain of salt and to come to your own conclusions?

I think it’s interesting that it’s Riddle’s dream that has resulted in many different interpretations, especially on the English speaking side? I wonder if that’s because the average EN player skews younger, so those fans can relate a lot with the struggle for identity and finding freedom from one’s parents, even if their circumstances aren’t exactly the same as Riddle’s. We project our own experiences and feelings onto Riddle, which informs our interpretation of his dream.

[drdemonprince]

this feels like a silly question but I know you have the answer. is hypnotism real? or is hypno kink just another form of roleplaying? Or something in between?

the trance states some people reach under hypnosis are undeniably a real thing! in fact, people enter into trance-like states in everyday life all the time! when you're zoning out on the highway, particularly engrossed in a book or movie, wrapped up in a fantasy, or even in a more receptive state while listening to a particularly compelling speaker or preacher, you are entering into a trance state! hypnosis is just one of the means by which a person can enter into this altered state of consciousness. people also reach trance by meditating, praying, engaging in repetitive tasks, and all kinds of other ways. trance is also highly similar to subspace, or even Domspace really, heightened mental states that people enter into after engaging in a kinky role under the right conditions.

research shows that when a person enters into a trance they are generally more vividly imaginative, receptive, and suggestible, and they may also be less inhibited and more able to access feelings and thoughts they are normally uncomfortable with. this can make it both a really meaningful state to enter into, and a potentially risky one to play with or have exploited by another person.

in practice, some people with hypnosis kinks only roleplay the activity (though because of the nature of how trance works, sometimes pretending to be in a trance can just get you into a trance!). other people are only interested in fictional depictions of hypnotic states in animated GIFs or stories or things like that. but a great many of us in the hypnosis fetish community do engage in actual hypnosis that is informed by what research is available on the matter, and work on developing new techniques for helping people achieve hypnotic states and experience particular phenomena while under hypnosis - for example hypnotic amnesia, hallucinations, hands-free orgasms, and any number of other conditioned responses.

for the average novice getting into the kink, the most you're going to experience at first is a feeling of relaxation and maybe some cute party tricks, or maybe a little extra intensity when taking on a different headspace, such as pup space or bimbofication. you might feel a little bit more at ease, silly, and able to take in suggestions and run with them. with practice and a seasoned hypnotist and hypnotic subject though, you can get into the realm of some pretty dramatic personality change and preference change kind of stuff. I've had entire whole new kinks inserted into me by hypnotists before that have stuck around for years. I didn't used to be until latex for example. I also learned how to deep throat exclusively from listening to hypnotic files and all the reviews indicate I'm damn good at it (The limitations of my small mouth not withstanding). hypnosis got me to learn to suppress my gag reflex really easily, and it's great for training physical relaxation and responses like these.

I've also had like breaks from reality from being in trance states for days or weeks at a time with hypnotic mantras running in the back of my brain telling me that I'm a robot I'm not a person and stuff, and known people who have experienced psychotic breaks from pushing the throttle on certain forms of hypnotic play too heavily when they were already vulnerable to that kind of thing, so you can reach really high highs and low lows with this stuff. That's if you have the right mindset and dedication to it, it's not magic. but it is a lot like being in a cult, or being under another person's influence in some other way. humans are far more susceptible to influence than they realize sometimes.

[bambisnc]

          . . . DRIVE U CRAZY ♡

° ˖ ➴ things you do that make them ( flustered. )

### . STARRING ⌢ OT7 ⋆ fluff. + 0.5k // kissing + implied relationship + intended lowercase ˖ ✧

🗨️ .. ⌞ XOXO ⌝ i miss them i miss them i miss them i miss them i miss t + [m.list]

౨ৎ ˖ 大崎将太郎 — ❪ OSAKI SHOTARO ❫

when you take the lead. hear me out. it might just be the (unofficial) leader in him that appreciates it, but he'd just find it so attractive when you take control of things in the relationship. initiating skinship (big fan of getting hickies shhh), planning out dates, etc.... oh god he'd get all hot and bothered so fast, even at the smallest of things too, that it'd almost be funny.

౨ৎ ˖ 송은석 — ❪ SONG EUNSEOK ❫

debating with him. he enjoys turning a topic over and over in general but he’s genuinely SUCH a sucker for arguing different points of view with you because a) he thinks your brain is very sexy b) you look really, really cute when you get all passionate about something and get very into whatever topic you’re talking ab. also more often than not kisses you in the middle of the argument (if he doesn’t have a good comeback, that is, bc lwk my guy cannot accept defeat …).

          ⋅ ˚ ଳ ₊ ‧ others utc

౨ৎ ˖ 정성찬 — ❪ JUNG SUNGCHAN ❫

wearing his clothes. trust me on this one. and look it’s not even necessarily the fact that his clothes would like 99% be Huge on you, making you look like you’re literally drowning in them. (if you’re shorter than him, that is) he’s just a fan of how it emphasizes that you’re his. especially!! when you’re in public or around other people and you borrow, say, like his hoodie, jacket or something. might j end up pulling you away with him somewhere more private hhh.

౨ৎ ˖ 박원빈 — ❪ PARK WONBIN ❫

complimenting him. look okay, he obviously does know he’s attractive – what with, you know, people literally falling all over themselves for him – but there’s something about you in particular being vocal about how he looks. particularly when you go into specifics, telling him how good his hair looks styled a certain way, how you really like a certain color on him and he’s a goner. 11/10 never changing his hair/taking that fit off.

౨ৎ ˖ 홍승한 — ❪ HONG SEUNGHAN ❫

wearing lip gloss/lip balm. he’s for sure obsessed with kissing you, for one. it’s really interesting to him how the different colors look on you or how you use different flavored lip balms. makes it a game almost, to kiss you and guess the flavor of whatever lip product you’ve chosen to wear on a particular occasion. has sm experience kissing u that atp he rarely ever gets any wrong smh.

౨ৎ ˖ 이소희 — ❪ LEE SOHEE ❫

eye contact. One thing that for sure gets him is you being a good listener and just being able to maintain good eye contact w him. he'd genuinely find your gaze on his to die for... babygirl would like to try and match your energy but always, without fail, end up not being able to match your loving stare and end up blushing and looking away. ><

౨ৎ ˖ 이찬영 — ❪ LEE CHANYOUNG ❫

giving him gifts,, i feel he’s the type to get flustered by most of the things you do but is just good at acting like he’s not. gifts though, specifically handmade ones — like cutesy cards, crocheted items, baked goods, etc. are a different topic. because like yeah he's used to expensive presents but to him, getting something handmade is far more .. intimate and shows how deeply you care. will go absolutely red even at small little sticky notes with messages on them fr.

𐙚 . regulars : @x0llaz @nicholasluvbot @isappuccino @totheseok @fae-renjun ⋆

[@bambisnc] 2k25

[doodlenoodleboi]

Senku l. (before & after the stone)

Headcanons, sfw,nsfw, suggestive…

Author’s note: Senku is a fictional character he is canonically 15-16 in the beginning of the series and 17-18 by season 3 not taking account for the manga which he is older. If in the future I make works on characters you deem unfitting for the roll of nsfw fiction or suggestive works of while aged up feel free to block me! Also a reminder that this is a fictional character, made up of lines/pixels. Do not waste your time writing petty hate comments which I will remove and are a waste of your life which you will not get back. I choose to be delusional about fictional characters for my own satisfaction, good day!

Word count: a lot

Before the stone

Sfw

Senku is a bit more less responsible before the stone as he is allowed to act like a kid. He often spends his time in the school lab or at home and can be seen with is small group of friends. (Taiju Oki and Yuzuriha Ogawa.)

Love and romantic relationships are something Senku has found himself uninterested in his teenage years. Dedicating himself to his craft and love for science.

You can take science away from the man but not the science from the man. (You really can’t do either)

Senku has found people conventionally attractive to a specific statistical standard but not to him personally and probably won’t ever given he doesn’t have a common attraction to physical attributes.

Though through statistics he can still find someone who he would be generally attracted to physically. Someone with glasses, makes their interests obvious ex: paint on body all the time, a lab coat or constantly wearing something of their special interest would be people he gravitates towards.

(As someone who is neurodivergent in the worst ways I think half the cast is autistic or a Shokunin if you will a person deeply dedicated to their craft.) So someone as such will attract Senku not romantically of course but they will be bound to cross paths.

There are a multitude of ways you could meet you might never meet but to keep it simple I’m going to give you a multitude of possibilities to have rot in your head.

Being apart of the school’s science club is one way always spending time with him constantly in the science room after school.

Being a dumbass needed tutoring friends with one of his friends but not with Senku directly, or competing for higher grades, a good enemies to lovers. Maybe you’re even apart of the school’s science club making you and Senku acquaintances if anything.

Senku doesn’t back down from competition when it comes to brains but quickly when it comes to fights. Being rivals to Senku is a good asset in the stone world getting you to be one of the first few people to be revived truly testing if you’re book smart (can do it in theory on paper in school) and street smart (do it for real and faster than the time given in school).

Senku was hesitant more than he ever has been getting in a relationship with you. Being shy was simply not an option for him, he thought it was a waste of time often making him coming off as stiff and blunt.

A relationship of romantic interest with Senku will never be said nor be official. He will never say he loves you or that he likes you even give he believes actions speak louder than words. If you give him time you will see through subtle ways that he is attracted to you. 

He will ask you about things that don’t matter much: like should I choose this or that color the small things…

He’ll allow you to touch his hair if your one for pda, he won’t reciprocated often at most leaning into the touch out of pure comfort. He won’t push you off understanding that this is a love language (that did take him a while to understand.)

Senku’s love language is quality time and gift giving. This is more often seen in the stone world but it expressed as well before hand even more so if you’re a science nerd along with him.

He’ll be willing to conduct experiments with you along with share materials with you which is a rare thing for him being an only child never having to share much of anything.

I believe that Senku is aroace or at the very least ace. He can still have platonic love and relationships but isn’t fond of romantic ones being in a romantic relationship from his perspective is his treating you like a best friend practically treating you like a mixture between yuzuriha and Kohaku.

Suggestive

Anything remotely romantic would have to be initiated by you and 9/10 you’re going to either get pushed off. Or he just sits there waiting for you to get over with it. Something like the (kohaku kissing Senku scene in season 3)

For your sake he has experimented once or twice before with make out sessions or kissing to get you to do something (like get you to do an experiment with him.) any kind of physical touch from him romantic wise once again if not initiated by you. 

He’s a responsible enough person to know better than to have sexual intercourse at his age nor is he interested enough to risk it not that questions about it don’t cross his mind but we’ll explore those much later down the line.

Though he’s more likely to tease you occasionally and lean his arm atop your head if you’re short. Expect this more often if you have curly hair

If you have 4c or curly hair in general he will be near you more often especially if you’re a foreigner. Have issues finding hair products for your hair type in Japan? He got you give him a couple strands of your hair next thing you know he has a whole list of products for your hair and product sample packets surrounding him.

Nsfw

Sorry there is none Senku was not interested in sexual acts before the stone nor very much after.

Though he will ask you a lot of “inappropriate questions” but i promise you he’s just genuinely curious. And he’s not trying to infer anything he promises.

After the stone

As I said Senku’s love languages are gift giving and quality time. This becomes more apparent in the stone world. If you had something you held close best believe he will try his best to make it for you. If you’re an artist he’s make brushes and paint etc…

He’s a bit kinder and softer after the stone. People he has known longer therefore care for more he unconsciously takes them on more missions with him around or in a safe space.

If he knew you before the stone you’re likely to be one of the first people out of stone. Though if not you are an important asset and he sees you for your skills and talents so be grateful for that.

If you’re a creative type expect to be paired with Yuzuriha often. A martial artist or athlete expect Kohaku and Taiju.

What Senku appreciate most is people interested in his work, he loves experimenting and explaining his process even to those a who don’t understand so please entertain him for a while if you expect at friendship let alone a romantic relationship.

People who are aroace can have relationships but they can often be on sided in the romance department. It’s not that they don’t love platonically you they just don’t know how to react to that romantically or don’t want romance.(yall can choose if Senku is aroace or not) As long as you’re ok with that your relationship with Senku will be fine. (I’ll just write him as dense to love for yall though.)

Senku if he does love you will occasionally indulge in your romantic behavior and take this a complent if it was a last resort he wouldn't be against procreating with you. (it took him a lot to admit that so you better take it.)

Romantic relationships are often seen as an inconvenience given he doesn't see the need for them and doesn't think he could would be the best fit for something like that.

He true for the most part but he is able to be in a romantic relationship. It may not be as romantic as a you like but if he has an interest in you he will unconsciously do these things. Don't expect any hand-holding and kissing though.

The only way you could get him to hold your hand is for technical reasons like you not getting lost.

Suggestive

I do agree with the fact that Senku would experiment on his significant other and I think this would be more common before the stone but in small ways.

An unexpected romantic act to see how you respond.

He will use this advantage if gen tells him you like him or something for free labor but we won’t abuse it he’s not that mean.

The only way I could see a “relationship forming” Is Senku using you for labor and “paying you” with physical touch. Kisses, hugs and stuff, he likes you platonically but as time goes on he starts experimenting with you first it’s his far will you go for each type of affection. Then it’s soon how will you react to this or that. He says it’s not you that he loves but the reaction you make like a chemical reaction in your mind. Knowing his autistic ass it might be true but the way he acts makes you unsure.

Or maybe finding a girl smarter than him would rial him up he might see you as arrival at first. You guys could be partners, he swears he doesn’t love you, but the science you create the knowledge you know, that wrinkly brain of yours.

He tends to have a love for things rather than people in a way he loves science and the things people are good at their talents but maybe not themselves, he swears but he does establish relationships with characters like Gen and Chrome as friends so I’m sure he can establish a romantic relationship if we take this route.

Then I could actually get into how Senku would “experiment” with his “friend” this would create an friends with benefits kinda situation but it’s not like Senku sees it like that he just doesn’t have time for labels and probably wouldn’t care about it. Just don’t call him pet names because he doesn’t like it. The relationship would be private so the villagers don’t make a fuss, for as far was that would last with Gen around.

NSFW - ish

Let’s talk about Senku’s experiments

Of course you consented to this but you might know what your getting into 100%

It’s basically just a very handsy check up while he asks you questions you may or may not be able to answer.

Ex: “Are your breast sensitive? There is a high concentration of nerve endings present in that area, making them one of the most sensitive parts of the body. While he’s over here playing with them in every way imaginable. He’s going to continue to do this for every inch of your body and take an analysis writing how painful each part is and or sensitive.

So I’ll let you guys imagine that

Thank you for reading!!

[nightwingsgypsyrep]

👆👆👆

This!

There’s been so many points in my life where I’ve been met with the most brain-dead comments because people presume rather than ask.

I made this blog because I thought I had some insight which people would appreciate (it was literally a joke about Dick’s gf being named Kori) and it just spiralled from there because people were interested.

And the thing is, I’m never going to be able to provide all of the answers. I’m a travelling girl from the fairground in England, and honestly, a lot of the more ‘Romani-specific’ parts of the culture fell out of popularity like fifty years ago, so whilst I might be able to answer questions about travelling, or the circus, and the effects being GRT has had on my life, and I can speak (Anglo)Romani, not only do I want to hear from other GRT people regarding their views of Dick as a character, really we need them!

But we can only really use our insight if people ask. Idk what gorgers/gorjas/gadjas (however you want to spell it) know or think. So many times I’ll be with my friends who aren’t GRT and they’ll say something which they think is common knowledge and I’m like ??. So yes, please ask. One person’s experiences may not be universal, but I’m never going to lie, so if you choose to use the info we can provide, at least Dick’s characterisation will be more accurate than if you hadn’t asked the question.

Anyway hope that makes sense and thank you so much for adding to this post! This blogs been about for almost a month now and it’s the first time I’ve actually encountered another one of us in the wilds of tumblr ❤️

One of the things which really annoys me about Dick Grayson’s characterisation by both DC and the fandom is how they treat his being Romani (I say this as a gypsy from the circus myself) also before people cancel me for saying gypsy - I am not American and it’s not a slur where I am from. I am a gypsy myself so please don’t freak out about my using this term which feels comfortable and accurate to me

I know this is a common complaint, but being a gypsy or Romani is such a niche ethnic identity, and so often I see people treat it almost like a nationality. For example, the idea that Dick Grayson grew up not knowing English is so bizarre to me… of course he knew English, he may be Romani and speak it, but he is also American. The shopkeeper who he is buying food from doesn’t speak Romani, nor do the local authorities whose permission we need to even put on a circus/fair, so it makes sense that he’d speak English to them. He works in the circus: his family’s livelihood depended on his being able to draw a crowd - if he can’t interact with the people he’s taking the money from, how does he expect to make it in what is essentially a customer service job (I speak from experience here). Also, historically, by the late 18th century, the vast majority of Romani-speaking gypsies also spoke another language as a first language, and by the 20th century, I could argue that this is about 99.99999% of us, if not all.

The other thing I often see is how Dick Grayson is portrayed as being the Bristol-raised kid who doesn’t understand Jason’s Crime Alley upbringing. And yeah, whilst Dick lived with Bruce from a young age, and might (even based on his personality) have a better chance of mixing with the rich kids, let’s not act like Dick didn’t know struggle as a kid. Even if his parents were fairly comfortable economically, he spent at least half the year living in a trailer/vardo, which people associate with being working class. All gypsy kids are taught to fight from a very young age because whenever we pull on somewhere to open (aka put on the show), we expect a hell of a lot of racism from the locals, which often included getting jumped, often by multiple older gadja/gorja/non-gypsy children - and hell, even adults! As well as knowing how to defend ourselves, this also leads to a lot us developing a bit of a defence mechanism wherein we can talk ourselves out of a situation, or endear ourselves to people quickly in the first place so we don’t get fighting (keeping us safe, and keeping us in the good graces of the locals so we can continue earning a living there) - perhaps this could be explored as part of the reasoning behind the famous Dick Grayson charm? Anyway, all this to say, Dick would fully understand what it’s like to be the poor outsider who has to fight at every corner just to exist, and justifying his existence to others who view themselves as his ‘superiors’.

My final complaint is a small one: every single gypsy I know grows up absolutely BELTING Cher’s ‘Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves’ and the fact that I’ve not seen Dick pouring his heart into that song, screaming the words ‘I was born in the wagon of a travelling show’ is honestly a hate crime which must be fixed immediately.

[possessedmen]

Legal Affairs

The clock in the corner of Atticus's office ticked rhythmically, a sound that had long since faded into the background of his life. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the mahogany desk where he sat, papers strewn about in an attempt to distract him from the thoughts that had been plaguing him for weeks - thoughts of William.

There was a knock at the door, soft but insistent.

"Come in," Atticus called out, his voice betraying none of the turmoil he felt.

William stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a click that seemed to echo in the quiet room. He was dressed in a sharp suit that did little to hide his youthful vigor. His eyes, however, held a mischievous glint that Atticus had come to both dread and anticipate.

"Working late, Atticus?" William asked, his voice a velvet whisper as he approached the desk, papers in hand.

"Seems like I'm not the only one," Atticus replied, his eyes following William's movements. He couldn't help but admire how the younger man's suit fit him, tailored to accentuate every curve of his body.

William leaned over the desk, placing documents down, but not before his eyes met Atticus's with an intensity that made the older man's breath hitch. "I found something incredible at this antique store," William began, his voice lowering to an almost conspiratorial tone.

Atticus raised an eyebrow, "Oh? And what might that be?"

"A book," William said, pulling an old, leather-bound volume from his bag. "It talks about ancient rituals, including one for body swapping. Imagine, Atticus, getting a taste of youth again with my body."

Atticus's interest was piqued, but he kept his tone skeptical. "Body swapping? You can't be serious."

"I am," William insisted, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Have you ever thought about what it would feel like to... make out with your own body? To see yourself through someone else's eyes?"

The suggestion sent an unexpected thrill through Atticus. He tried to dismiss it, but the idea was too tantalizing to ignore. "And how exactly does this work?"

William moved around the desk, standing closer, now behind Atticus, his breath warm against Atticus's neck as they started kissing, William's hand roaming over Atticus' chest. "I want to experience what it's like to be the boss." He then whispered, "We need something personal from each other. Something intimate."

Atticus nodded, reaching into his desk drawer to pull out a tie he often wore. William, in turn, unbuttoned his shirt slightly, revealing a silver necklace. "This should do."

They moved to the center of the office, where William had already set up candles. He opened the book, its pages yellowed with age, and began reading from it, his voice a low chant. The air seemed to thicken around them, charged with an energy Atticus could feel against his skin.

As William finished the incantation, a sudden dizziness overtook them both. When Atticus opened his eyes, the world looked different — taller, somehow, and the mirror across the room reflected not his own seasoned face but William's youthful one.

"Atticus?" William's voice came from Atticus's own body, sounding bewildered yet thrilled.

"This is... incredible," Atticus said, touching his new, younger face, feeling the smooth skin under his fingertips.

William moved closer, his eyes wide with wonder as he touched Atticus's face, now his own. "We did it."

The exploration began, each touch a discovery.

"Now, you're the young associate," Atticus said, his voice now William's, vibrant and eager. He pushed William, now in his own mature body, against the desk, roleplaying the power dynamic. "Show me how you'd impress your senior partner."

William, in Atticus's body, played along, his hands fumbling with the unfamiliar buttons of the suit, his touch more deliberate, mimicking the authority he now embodied. "I'd start by showing you how much I've learned from you," he said, his voice deeper, commanding.

They explored each other slowly, Atticus marveling at how his own body felt under his hands, the hard muscles, the slight sag of age replaced by youthful tautness. William's hands, now Atticus's, traced over the firm chest, down to the stomach, feeling the texture of skin that was now so alien yet intimately known. Each touch sent shivers through Atticus, the unfamiliar sensation of his own body's skin under his fingertips, now William's, making his breath catch.

"You're always so composed," William teased, running his fingers through Atticus's hair, now his own, feeling the thrill of control. "But how composed are you now?"

Atticus, in William's body, found himself responding as if he were William, his movements more daring, his touch more exploratory. He kissed down the neck of his own body, tasting the salt of skin, feeling the pulse quicken under his lips. He whispered, "You've always wanted to be in charge, haven't you?"

William, playing the part of the senior partner, guided Atticus's hand to his own erection, showing him how he'd pleasure himself in these stolen moments. "Learn from the best," he growled, his eyes dark with desire. Atticus felt the warmth, the weight of it, a new sensation that made him ache with desire.

They moved to the floor, the carpet rough against their skin as they switched roles again. Atticus, still in William's body, sat atop William, now mimicking the senior partner's usual demeanor, riding him with an enthusiasm that was both William's and his own. Each thrust was a lesson in sensation, the feeling of tightness around him, the heat, the friction, all new and exhilarating.

"Look at you, so eager to please," William gasped, his hands gripping Atticus's hips, now his own, with a strength that surprised them both.

Just then, the phone on the desk rang, vibrating across the wood. Will, in Atticus's body, looked at Atticus with a wicked grin, quickly picking up the call on speakerphone.

"Atticus Montgomery here," William said, his impersonation so perfect that even Atticus raised his eyebrows in surprise. He watched as Will, in his body, leaned back, chewing on a pen — a habit Atticus had, which William mimicked flawlessly.

"Atticus, it's Henry. Need to run through the latest on the case," came the voice of Will's father and Atticus's long-time friend and partner.

"Sure, Henry, go ahead," William responded smoothly, his voice carrying the authoritative tone Atticus was known for.

As Henry talked, Atticus, still in William's body, decided to push the boundaries further. He moved between William's legs, now his own, and began to work his mouth over William's cock, who was now in Atticus's body. Will's eyes widened, but he managed to keep his composure on the call, his voice steady despite the pleasure.

"Uh, yes, Henry, I've noticed some discrepancies in the client's statement," William said, his breath hitching slightly as Atticus took him deeper, his tongue swirling around the head, eliciting a soft moan that he tried to cover with a cough.

"Everything okay there, Atticus?" Henry asked, concern in his voice.

"Absolutely, just a little throat irritation," William managed, his voice steady as Atticus continued, his head bobbing rhythmically. "I think we should consider involving William more in this case. He's shown remarkable insight."

"Wait, what? Will's too green for this case, Atticus," Henry argued, his tone sharp. "We can't risk it on his inexperience."

"He's not as green as you think, Henry," William countered, his voice firm, the roleplay adding an edge to his words as Atticus continued his ministrations, his lips and tongue working in tandem. "He's been instrumental in piecing together the evidence timeline. He caught something we all missed."

"And what's that?" Henry challenged, the skepticism clear.

"He found that the witness's timeline was off by an hour, which could change the entire narrative of the event," William explained, his voice steady despite the distraction. "That's not something a 'green' lawyer would see."

Henry paused, considering. "Alright, but I'm not convinced. We'll discuss this further. Now, about the deposition..."

As Henry detailed the deposition strategy, William listened, his voice sometimes faltering with the pleasure of Atticus's skilled mouth. "Uh, yes, I think William should be there to observe. He might catch something else."

"Fine, but he's to observe only," Henry conceded reluctantly. "I want to see if he can keep up."

"Absolutely," William said, his breath hitching as Atticus took him deeper, the sensation overwhelming. "I believe in his potential. We should nurture it."

Atticus, now in the spirit of mischief, moved to Will's feet, now his own, and began to massage them, his fingers pressing into the arches, a silent promise of more to come. William's breath caught, the sensation new but intensely pleasurable.

"And Henry," William continued, his voice thick with suppressed desire, "I've been thinking... maybe William could take on some of the witness interviews. He has a good rapport with people."

Henry's voice was doubtful. "That's a lot of responsibility, Atticus. Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," ambitious William said, his voice cracking slightly as Atticus's fingers found a sensitive spot, sending a shiver up his spine. "He's ready for this step up."

"Well, if you're sure... But we'll review his performance after the first one."

"Agreed," William managed, his voice a mixture of authority and arousal as Atticus's hands continued their work, now kissing the soles of Will's feet, the act both worshipful and erotic.

Once the call ended, Atticus, still in William's body, pointed out, "You played me too well."

With a playful smirk that held a kernel of truth, he replied, "I could get used to being you."

Atticus chuckled, his hands still on William's feet, now his own, caressing them with a reverence that was both playful and sincere. "You even got the pen chewing right. But how did you know so much about the case?"

"I might have been paying more attention than you think," William said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Or maybe I'm just that good at pretending to be you."

Atticus, with a laugh, leaned forward, his breath hot against William's toes as he spoke. "You're too good, Will. It's almost frightening."

William, still in character, retorted, "Frightening? No, Atticus, I think you mean 'impressive'." He wiggled his toes under Atticus's touch, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through him. "Besides, you seemed to enjoy me 'being you' quite a bit."

Atticus's cheeks flushed, the truth undeniable. "I can't argue with that," he admitted, his voice low, his hands moving up William's legs, now his own, feeling the familiar yet new contours. "But don't get too comfortable in my shoes... or my body."

William grinned, the playful banter continuing, "Oh, I think I might just enjoy this little twist of fate a bit longer. Who knows, I might even learn to tie a tie like you do."

They laughed, the sound mingling with the soft glow of the candles, their bodies still intertwined in the complexity of their swapped selves.

"Henry seemed scarily impressed," Atticus noted, his tone a mix of admiration and humor. "But are you sure you didn't put too much work on yourself? Witness interviews, depositions?"

William shrugged with a playful grin. "Maybe I did, but I think you'd like the idea of someone else doing your work for a change."

Atticus couldn't help but smile. "You got me there. I must admit, the thought of you handling some of my responsibilities while I get to sit back and keep an eye on you... it's quite appealing."

"Now where were we?" Atticus kissed William as they continued the exploration of their bodies, the boundaries of their roles blurring in Atticus' office.

[kylixyte]

i NEED to show affection to Harley without him experimenting on me......🙏

There you go. You're next after anonymous #1, #2, and #3!

Oh, wait. ''Without''?

Is it possible? Let's figure out a couple of options which might work

#1. Indulging his tastes

Oh. Next

#2. Find common interests!

Does he not understand that you are flirting or pretending? Next.

#3. The best option! You're ALREADY his pet. No more experiments!

Something inside me tells me that this option is not suitable for you.

Wait.. What do I see?

You look just like him!

Of course, no experimenting with yourself. The problem is solved

I'm sorry if the joke has dragged on, I'll always be happy to see your options on how this can happen.

[coachs-kit-bag]

I love your advice about dressing in the right gear to get oneself in the mindset to transform into a jock this year.

Any suggestions on a ‘starter pack’ of things that one might need to go down that path?

With your ambition to transform yourself this year, you may have gotten a boost from this recent post on the same topic. Creating a starter pack is an intriguing thought exercise as there are many different routes that one could go down. Happy to help!

1. Jockstrap

I have mentioned on this blog several times that committing to wearing a good jockstrap as daily wear is one of the strongest adaptations an aspiring jock can make. Classic styles (such as the original Bike brand) or increasingly the black Nike model are widely available and good to experiment with.

2. Sports Socks

Secondly, and easily overlooked by many, choosing the right pairs of Socks will keep you grounded in your path. Anything from a basic 5-pack of white Adidas socks will suffice, but, in my experience, you can make sports socks fit with any attire. I often wear knee-length Rugby socks underneath my suits in the workplace or a pair of Nike Elites with casual trainers (graciously gifted by a follower of this blog).

Whatever choice you make, commit yourself and your wardrobe entirely and trust the process.

3. Spandex/Lycra

It will be no surprise for a regular viewer of this blog that I advocate for skintight spandex/lycra within this list. You can even see this as your new 'jock uniform' for a good workout. Under Armour, Nike Pro and Skins Compression are all solid brands, but anything skintight is right by me. At first, you may feel that you need to wear a looser pair of running shorts, but within time you will quickly realise that the more you wear, the more correct it feels to wear alone.

Short-sleeved shirts with shorts, especially in matching or complimentary sets, demonstrate pride in your appearance. In addition, a pair of full-length tights should be in every jock’s wardrobe as standard practice. Once you start collecting, you might find it hard to stop buying, and even resist wearing anything else.

4. Vest

For those moments when you need a loose-fitting, casual look, a vest and short shorts come in handy. Showing the right amount of skin is paramount - you never know when you’ll be called to perform a good flex for the camera. Show off those gains!

5. Cap & Headphones

Lastly, as you requested a real “starter pack” to assimilate yourself fully as a jock - a good cap and pair of headphones will be vital to help you connect to the right frequency, zone out of the mundane and lock in to your goals.

This might seem like a lot at first, but before long you’ll realise just how important your new wardrobe will be!

For more ideas, you can always check the posted tagged “jock” for more inspiration.

For those lured in and wishing to purchase kits for others rather than for themselves, my Ko-Fi is always open and for TF posts you can visit @coachs-locker-room

I would be open to do another one of these starter packs focusing on a specific items, or other sports. Let me know if that interests you or leave a comment if there is something you would recommend.

[akookminsupporter]

Rewatching AYS for the nth time (lost count by now) I just find it endearing how Jimin and Jungkook always look at each other whenever they experience something (e.g. eat something delicious, see something interesting, etc) then support each other with something they want to do (e.g. eat more, do something), decide together, and check if the other is happy.

The closer we get to their military discharge, the more unhinged/rabid people seem to get. I know this might be unlikely, but 1 to 2 eps of AYS or a Jikook subunit is all I need. If not, a Jikook live would be amazing!

Same! Their instinct to look at each other first, like they’re silently checking in and sharing the moment, is just so endearing. It’s one of those little things that make their dynamic feel so natural and effortless. I also love how Jimin kept checking in with Jungkook to see if he was happy or having fun. Even though the show and all the activities were meant for both of them, it’s pretty clear that Jimin picked quite a few with Jungkook specifically in mind.

I was thinking of making a post about how that subgroup of haters seems to be losing it more and more each day. They keep bringing up things from the past—things that are already crystal clear—just to try and deny them or twist the narrative in ways that just aren’t true.

We’ve joked about how we think Jimin and Jungkook will behave once they finish their military service, and how they’ll act like they did post-Japan but on steroids. But, being a bit serious about it, if they really do act like that—at least at the beginning—I have no idea what that subgroup will do (and at this point, I’m including Solos from both sides too). It’s actually a little worrying. Even if Jimin and Jungkook don’t come back with post-Japan vibes, it’s pretty much impossible for them not to mention things from their service or stuff that directly involve the other. And honestly? I don’t know how that subgroup will react. I have an idea, of course, but I’m scared it’ll be worse. Like, what will they do? What new hashtag will they trend? Hopefully, Jimin and Jungkook won’t pay them any attention—doesn’t seem like they have in the past, so fingers crossed they keep it that way when they’re back.

You know what would be amazing? A vlog of them in Busan. I still think it’s such a shame they didn’t take Tae’s suggestion to go there for AYS. So, if we’re not getting another season for now, a Busan vlog would be perfect. A multi-part vlog, thank you very much. But honestly, I’d be happy if they just did one long Wlive, the kind Jungkook loves doing. 😂 Maybe not on the day they’re discharged (I still think they’ll get out privately and won’t do a Wlive like Jin and Hobi did, and probably like Tae and Joon will do. They’ll probably just post a message on Weverse, maybe with a photo), but one a few days later would be great.

A song together would be everyone’s dream come true, but I feel like that’s wishing for too much.

At this point, anything would be a gift!

[adventures-in-amirite]

Blog FAQ

What is Amirite?

Amirite is a non-natural material found in the grasses of urban areas not limited to basketball courts, soccer fields, and playgrounds. In its raw form, it is shaped like a hollow cylinder with ridged sides and an open chamber, or in a raised ring shape. It comes in a variety of colors, but most commonly translucent, black, green, and orange. Raw amirite is best harvested early Monday mornings after a hot weekend in the summer. The raw material is processed, separated by color, and then re-combined into a conglomerate material.

What are you doing with your specimens of Amirite?

Amirite has a low melting point and can be melted down and reformed many, many times before it becomes unworkable. It does not become liquid, but a tacky substance that can be pushed into molds. It can be formed, sanded, and polished to create trinkets, charms, and other things.

Why work with Amirite?

Large deposits of amirite can become a nuisance to wildlife. Because it floats, it can be found in waterways and sometimes inside of fish who think that it is food. Amirite is not a digestible substance and can create blockages for wildlife that attempt to eat them. It can be broken down by UV radiation and can shed into the soil.

I live in an area with large deposits of amirite, and part of my job is to remove it. My location does not have the resources to safely dispose of amirite. I felt that while it is a common pollutant, its ability to be reformed and handled safely using household appliances seemed an interesting experiment.

If its a pollutant, how is it safe to handle?

Amirite only breaks down after prolonged exposure to UV radiation. Getting the material out of the sun is my first priority. Once its safely out of the sun and out of the way of animals that might eat it, there is no danger to handling amirite- and in fact it is found in many household items.

Okay, ha-ha, this has all been very funny. But what is amirite really?

Its plastic bottle caps. People leave their trash on the sports fields and its part of my job to clean up after them. It annoyed me a lot. But when I found out that they could be easily melted and reformed, I was incentivized to clean the parks more thoroughly. I have collected hundreds of them and I am slowly making a lot of beads and charms with them. I am being very silly about this, but if it gets people to think about how they leave their trash in public spaces, then its pretty serious. Because people do completely miss the trash can, amirite?

[ejeffers1239]

This is your monthly reminder that trans girl periods are probably definitely real.

"ow ow ow ow ow"

- Erika

Serious discussion of/essay on trans woman periods under the cut:

While transgender women experiencing period symptoms is not something that has been scientifically researched with any rigor as far as I'm aware, enough trans women report the phenomena that it can reasonably be assumed real. The interesting thing is there are competing theories as to the mechanism behind trans women periods, which are as follows:

1. An empathetic or otherwise psychosomatic response, as in a trans woman has periods because she knows other women do. I don't like this, but we'll get back to that

2. Confirmation bias of unrelated symptoms, usually gastrointestinal, calling anything that happens in the general area a period.

3. Hormonal cycle from taking estrogen makes the body attempt a period, even without a uterus, accounting for cramping, mood changes, and changes to breast texture.

I don't think 1 or 2 are especially good explanations on their own, and taken in a vacuum sort of reinforce a conclusion and stereotype that transgender women are faking it (1) or eat nothing but junk food (2). However, these two definitely aren't unprecedented as factors, as long as you accept that there is a hormonal component (3).

Considering two of the most common phenomena reported with periods generally, we can get a broader picture. First is the phenomena of women syncing their cycles; this itself sports conflicting research and is mostly anecdotally observed, just like trans women periods. Nonetheless it could provide a point towards the empathetic response theory that would be more than making it up, rather, whatever about an estrogen-dominant body that (allegedly) causes sync is also applicable to transgender women. Second, consider the phenomena of period cravings. This phenomena is much more established than sync, it's commonly accepted that women on their periods tend to crave foods high in carbs, sugar, and salt. In other words, junk food. In that light the "trans women have had diets and call it a period" claim is not entirely dismissible, but is actually flipped in the ordering. It's entirely likely that trans women having their period regardless end up eating junk food, and cast doubt on to the validity of their own periods as a result.

As for my own personal anecdotes, I experience a cycle that is at least somewhat consistent. I don't notice symptoms every month, but many months, and they usually follow the same "structure" so to speak:

First, for about half a day, I get really horny. I believe this would technically be pre-period or a hormonal analogue to ovulation, nonetheless, I take the opportunity to have some fun, as pretty much nothing compares to how good it feels during this time.

Next, I have the junk food cravings, granted, I'm someone who eats taco bell weekly so, this doesn't represent an especially large change of diet for me, it's there though and if I'm cooking I might end up making something like mashed potatoes.

Finally, for around three days after that, I get really bloated and have some "typical" period symptoms: pain in my abdomen, the bloating itself, sore breasts, and even period shits. This is where I am while writing this post and we'll, to reiterate, "ow ow ow ow ow."

To me, this is far to specific of a sequence of events to be fake, even if it's not strictly monthly, and trans women have factors like missing estrogen doses or the presence/lack of progesterone that could influence that timing away from perfectly routine. Ultimately I'm another anecdote in a sea of anecdotes but, I choose to believe trans girl periods are real and biologically based, and I hope I've made a compelling argument supporting that here. This blog is made possible by boredom and mania mutuals like you, thank you!

[tojisprettylittlething]

Chapter Twenty Eight: A Mission Gone Too Far

Pairing: Assassin!Toji Fushiguro x Assassin!Reader

Warnings: violence, blood, gunplay, near-death experience, injury (bullet grazing the head), Toji being pissed, heavy tension, arguments, and power struggles.

Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"Testing, testing—"

The smooth voice rang through the earpiece, crystal clear against the static of the comms. You barely resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

"—If you can hear me, say ‘Gojo is a sexy genius.’"

"Gojo, I swear to God," you muttered, checking the magazine of your gun before slotting it back into place.

"Just say ‘copy,’" Toji’s voice cut in, irritated.

“Copy,” you responded, adjusting your gear.

You could hear Gojo’s smirk over the line. "Buzzkills. Both of you."

You and Toji stood on the rooftop of an old industrial building, eyes scanning the lot below. A shipment was coming in, an underground deal that Gojo had oh-so-graciously assigned you to oversee. A simple recon mission, he’d said. In and out. No unnecessary bloodshed.

Bullshit.

You knew a test when you saw one. You’d been thrown into enough trials-by-fire to recognize when someone wanted to see what you were really made of.

And judging by the way Toji stood beside you, arms crossed, jaw locked—he knew it too.

"Keep your eyes open, lovebirds," Gojo drawled in your ear. "We’ve got movement. Two cars, black SUVs, just pulled up."

You spotted them immediately. Four men stepped out, all dressed in dark suits, their movements crisp, purposeful. Professionals. Armed.

"How much you wanna bet they’ve got more inside?" you murmured.

Toji scoffed. “That’s not even a bet. Of course they do.”

"Then let’s keep this simple. We don’t fire unless we have to."

"Agreed."

You both moved swiftly, descending from the rooftop, taking up positions along the shadows. Watching. Waiting.

Then, right when the deal was about to finalize—

All hell broke loose.

Gunfire erupted, shattering the tense quiet. You didn’t know who shot first, but it didn’t matter—suddenly, the entire place was a war zone.

"Ohhh, now it’s getting interesting," Gojo hummed through the comms.

"Not the time," you snapped, ducking behind a crate as bullets tore through the air.

Toji moved like a damn ghost, cutting through the chaos with brutal efficiency. A blade in one hand, a gun in the other, dropping anyone in his path.

You weren’t far behind, weaving through the mess, gun aimed, shots precise. You weren’t here for an all-out fight, but if someone got in your way? You weren’t hesitating.

At least, not until you saw him.

The sniper.

Perched up high, barely visible through the dim lighting.

And his barrel was aimed directly at Toji.

Your body moved before your brain could catch up.

A sharp bang. The world blurred—pain exploded along the side of your head, a searing, white-hot sting.

The shot missed. Barely.

But you felt it.

A graze, just above your temple, hot blood trickling down the side of your face.

You heard Toji’s voice, sharp, frantic—

“What the fuck?!”

The sniper wasn’t getting a second chance.

You lifted your gun and fired. A single shot, straight to the skull. The body dropped.

The gunfire around you faded into a dull roar, your heartbeat thundering in your ears.

Your vision swayed for a second—

Then Toji was in front of you, grabbing your face, tilting your head to assess the damage. His hands were rough, firm, his jaw clenched so tightly you swore it might snap.

"Are you fucking stupid?"

You blinked, still catching up.

"Toji—"

"You moved in front of a sniper.” His voice was deadly quiet, barely restrained. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

You scowled, slapping his hands away. "I saved your ass."

"You almost got your head fucking blown off."

"But I didn't."

“That’s not the fucking point—”

"Ah, young love," Gojo’s voice interrupted. "So much passion. So much drama. But, uh—maybe wrap up the lovers’ quarrel after you clear the damn warehouse?"

Toji’s glare could’ve burned a hole through the comms.

But you could barely focus on that. The pain in your head was setting in now, throbbing. Your vision was still a little off-kilter, the blood dripping down your face warm and sticky.

You exhaled sharply, shaking off the dizziness. "Let’s just finish this."

Toji muttered something under his breath, but he didn’t argue. He turned on his heel, jaw tight, gun raised.

And despite the anger simmering between you—he still positioned himself in front of you. A shield. Just in case.

Because no matter how pissed he was—no matter how much he wanted to strangle you for what you just pulled—he wasn’t about to let anyone else touch you.

Not now. Not ever.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The last few minutes of the mission were a blur of gunfire, adrenaline, and your throbbing head wound.

Toji was furious, but he didn’t let it slow him down. If anything, he was moving faster—his bullets landing with brutal precision, his blade slicing through flesh like it was nothing. If he was pissed before, he was outright murderous now.

You kept up, but the world swayed every few seconds, the warm trickle of blood trailing down your temple reminding you that you weren’t at your best. Still, you weren’t about to sit this out.

Gojo’s voice rang in your ear, cool and entertained. "Well, that was fun. Seems like you two made quite the impression."

"Shut the fuck up," Toji snapped.

Gojo only laughed. "Relax, lover boy. Mission’s over. You’re clear."

You took a slow breath, surveying the bodies littered around the warehouse. The air was thick with the scent of gunpowder and iron, the tension still clinging to your skin.

Your hand lifted to your temple, fingers coming away slick with blood.

Toji was already stalking toward you, his movements rigid, controlled. The second he reached you, he grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your wound. His expression was unreadable, but his grip was tight.

“We’re leaving,” he said, voice sharp.

“I’m fine.”

His jaw clenched. "You're bleeding."

"It’s just a graze."

His hand tightened around your wrist. “You think I give a fuck?”

You stared at him, breath still uneven. His eyes were dark, burning, and his grip on you was almost bruising. You could feel the anger radiating off of him, barely contained beneath the surface.

You didn’t say anything else. There was no point.

Without another word, he yanked you toward the exit.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The car ride home was silent.

Tense. Suffocating.

Toji’s grip on the wheel was too tight, his knuckles white. His jaw was still clenched, his whole body wound tight with frustration. You could practically feel the rage rolling off of him in waves.

You sat beside him, arms crossed, eyes trained on the window.

Your head still throbbed. The blood had dried, crusting uncomfortably along your temple.

Finally, you exhaled. "Are you gonna stay mad forever, or—?"

The tires screeched as he slammed on the brakes, jerking the car to a stop on the side of the road.

Your pulse jumped.

Slowly, you turned to him, only to find him already staring at you—his expression dark, livid.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” His voice was low, lethal.

You scowled. “I was thinking about saving your life.”

“I don’t need you to save me.”

Your temper flared. “I made a choice. I took a risk. That’s what we do.”

"Not like that." His voice was sharp, his breathing uneven. "Not when it means almost getting your fucking head blown off."

“Jesus, Toji—”

“You hesitated before. And now you’re fucking reckless?”

Your fingers curled into fists. “I handled it.”

"You almost died." His hands slammed against the steering wheel, frustration spilling over. “And for what? You think I’d be grateful? You think I’d be proud that you nearly got your skull split open?”

You stared at him, chest rising and falling. His voice was raw, his anger barely leashed.

But beneath it—beneath all the frustration, all the sharp edges of his words—you saw it.

The fear.

He had seen you go down. He had seen the blood. And for a split second—he had thought you were dead.

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Toji exhaled sharply, shaking his head. His hands dragged down his face, his fingers raking through his hair.

Then, softer this time—hoarse, almost—

“Don’t ever do that again.”

Your throat felt tight.

“…Okay.”

Neither of you moved. The car was still. The world outside was quiet.

Then Toji clicked his tongue, shaking his head again. “Fucking stupid.”

You snorted. "You're one to talk."

He huffed, but there was no real bite behind it anymore.

Finally, he shifted the car back into gear, pulling back onto the road. His hand found your thigh, gripping it tightly—possessive, grounding.

You let him.

You stayed silent for the rest of the ride.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

When you got home, Toji barely let you step through the door before he was dragging you to the bathroom.

“Sit,” he ordered, gesturing to the closed toilet lid.

You rolled your eyes, but you obeyed, watching as he rummaged through the cabinet for the first aid kit.

“I told you, it’s just a graze—”

“Shut up.”

You huffed. “Bossy.”

He shot you a look before kneeling in front of you, tilting your chin up to examine the wound. His fingers were rough but careful, his gaze focused.

You sighed, letting him work. His grip was firm as he wiped away the dried blood, cleaning the wound with surprising gentleness.

“…You should’ve let me take the shot,” he muttered after a moment.

You looked down at him, watching the way his brows were furrowed, his lips pressed together.

“But I didn’t.”

Toji’s jaw ticked. His fingers pressed against your chin, his thumb stroking over your jaw absentmindedly.

You swallowed.

Neither of you spoke for a long moment. The air was thick, heavy with everything left unsaid.

Then, finally, he exhaled.

“I fucking hate you,” he muttered.

You smirked. “No, you don’t.”

His eyes flickered up to you. A beat of silence.

Then—softer, quieter—

“No,” he admitted. “I don’t.”

Your chest tightened.

Toji let out a slow breath before standing up, tossing the used alcohol wipe into the trash.

“Come on,” he murmured. “You need sleep.”

You didn’t argue.

Because despite the throbbing in your skull, despite the ache in your body—

For the first time since the mission started, you actually felt safe.

My lil taglist ₍₍ ◝(　ﾟ∀ ﾟ )◟ ⁾⁾ : @t4naiis - @crimsonxm00n -

[impala124]

Theory of love Episode 1: I hate myself for loving you

Well well well, what do we have here? Could it be my half-baked thoughts on Dear Dakanda, a movie I was supposed to have finished watching 3 days ago, but couldn't get through in a single sitting because I was too busy face-palming myself the whole time, and how it relates to episode 1 of Theory of love? Yes, it is.

The film is about a shy art student, who's in love with his bestfriend but is unwilling to confess because he's scared of losing their friendship.

Third in his review of the film:

I was practically cheering for Khaiyoi. I felt relieved for him.

Even though the film is told from Mhoo's perspective, we know very little about the man himself, other than his unrequited love, which made it really hard for me to root for him. So, Third was definitely projecting onto Mhoo.

As @lurkingshan has already pointed out, Third sees himself in Mhoo and has chosen to out do him in his pining for his bestfriend. It makes me wonder when Third saw Dear Dakanda for the first time, whether it was before meeting Khai or after. He and Khai had a meet-cute which is similar to that of Mhoo and Dakanda, atleast that's how Mhoo views it.

If he had watched the movie prior to meeting Khai, then he was just setting himself up for failure by comparing Khai to Dakanda. Now, if it were the latter, I wonder why he couldn't see himself in Nui rather than Mhoo. Maybe Nui was too honest about her feelings for Third to relate to her. I'm pretty sure that one of the reasons Third likes Khai is because Khai isn't afraid of confrontation, unlike him. Khai goes to the film sceening of a guy his ex chose over him, just to publicly humilate the guy. Third can't even himself to show Khai the concert tickets he bought for them to go together.

Side note about their meet-cute: It's a reference to the characters from My girl, which credits the director of Dear Dakanda as one of its screenwriters. If I'm remembering it right, My girl is also on the list.

@neuroticbookworm made a note about the romanticisation of pining in the movie and I'm pretty sure Third caught that because he was embodying it. As harsh as it might sound, the suffering of both Third and Mhoo is self-inflicted.

At no point were they given any indication that their feelings might be reciprocated and yet, they continue to resent the other person for treating them 'only' as a friend. I understand yearning, I love it, but give me some insight into the character before showing them as a pathetic loser (my favorite genre of men, if I may say so myself).

@bengiyo made an interesting note about the overtly heterosexual bubble Third lives in. This gave me a whiplash because in 2025, I'm kinda used to bls where queerness is the norm. We don't know anything about Third's past experiences and how long he's known that he's attracted to men to make any judgements here, but let me just note that Third is not some wallflower, he's part of a clique that is rather popular. Now that Two saw Third crying in the dark over Khai, maybe he'll find an ally, because Third definitely needs someone in his corner.

Something I'm interested in knowing more about is what Khai brings to his friendship with Third. Third repeatedly says that being friends with Khai is better than nothing, so he can't be a friend that flakes on him constantly, as he did in this episode. Hope you're not that much of a masochist, Third!!

Mini-rant:

Having Dakanda mention that she broke up with her boyfriend in her letter to Mhoo was definitely a choice and I wonder how much of that factored into Mhoo mailing her the postcards in return. Also, Mhoo writing I'm happy that, in the end, the thing that lasts the longest and can't easily be ruined is our friendship and ending the postcard by stating that this will be his last correspondence with her doesn't sit right with me.

Of course, one can outgrow a friendship, but, was Mhoo only friends with Dakanda in the hope that she might wake up one day and see him in a romantic light? That would be rather disingenuous now, wouldn't it?Is a female friend worth having only if she's a potential romantic partner? Is the narrative punishing Dakanda for not recognising Mhoo's quiet pining and replying with Why did you confess now?after he let her know about his feelings for her by having her break up with her boyfriend? This whole sequence reeks of valourization of Mhoo's unrequited love over Dakanda getting herself a boyfriend and Third definitely feels the same way about his pining and Khai's flings. Told y'all, I can't look at het romantic relationships objectively because biases start kicking in.

(OR)

Maybe it's about Mhoo choosing to move forward in his life instead of trying to see what can become of his relationship with Dakanda, now that she's aware of his feelings towards her.

We can't know for sure, but I feel like it's a bit of both.

[muffinsin]

Heyo so I had what I felt was an interesting idea for a gender neutral reader x Daniela, where reader is one of Donna’s experiments that she was done with, where she bound a human soul to a suit of plate armour.

And so basically Lady D takes it/them off Donna’s hand as a gift for Daniela because of her love for stories, and fairy tale romance

And I was curious what ur take on Daniela getting her Knight in Shining Armour Fairy tale romance, but with the slight twist of it being Knight that is Shining Armour instead of “In” shining armour

Awhh, this one’s hella adorable, hon! And I feel, it’s just what this romance bug needs!🙌

Let’s get into it :)

Masterlists

With Donna, things were quiet

You weren’t used to much, mostly stood about and helped her when you could. There wasn’t much to do, and not a lot of people to talk to

And even the dolls did not always make for good beings to have a conversation with

And still, when she said you’d be given away, sent to the castle, you had felt anxious

Here, at the castle, it’s much different

It’s louder, far more crowded than the Beneviento manor

You’re presented like a gift by the dollmaker, standing still and glancing at the four women in front of you

One, tall, twice as tall as Donna, easily

The other three shorter, but still capable of towering above the average person

One, a blonde, who looks quite bored if you had to guess. An unusual reaction, certainly, given your nature. Still, even as you don’t technically have eyes, you feel almost embarrassed looking at her and visibly turn your head

The next, a brunette

You notice her fingers are twitching, her sickle glistening in the chandelier’s light

You turn to Donna momentarily, unsure how to act and what to expect

Still, you get the feeling you’d be nothing but a fancy training dummy, if she was in charge of you

Thankfully, she is not

Then the third one, a little younger and gentler looking, with a small pout at her lips and her gloved hand clutching a sickle of her own

She’s looking at you almost dreamily, her eyes wide and curious, her hips swaying gently as she stands, just barely noticeable, as if she was lost in her own world

She seems almost lost at the sight of you, only jumping to attention when the tall woman’s hand- Alcina, the mother, Donna informed you beforehand- sets on her shoulder gently

Then, the almost comfortable silence and slow feel of the room is interrupted

You stumble slightly when the redhead moves, turning to a swarm of flies that buzzes around you excitedly

Then, of of the swarm, comes first a hand that grasps the iron glove that makes your hand

The rest of her follow, her lips curving to a wide smile as she wraps her arms around you

You think you hear her thanking her mother, though it’s hard to tell, as both other women- her sisters- begin complaining almost immediately

You tilt your head, a large, iron helmet, down and can’t help but notice…she’s beautiful

Her eyes, a striking gold, are wide and betray the happiness and excitement she feels

Her lips are painted a deep black, and are spread into a wide, happy smile that would have your heart ache, if you had one

When she rubs her cheek against your chest plate and shoulder piece, you think; you should cringe, should feel bothered about the blood smearing against your otherwise pristine armor

Not this time

This time, you only watch her

For the first time in your life, you wish you had a face, a mouth, lips

All just to smile at her

For her to see your smile, hopeful that it might inspire her to just keep smiling, too

In the time to come, you get a little more adjusted to living at the castle

You’re with Daniela, every day, nearly at all times

And while you hear whispers, some of the staff members pitying you, you see no reason for such a thing at all

You love being in her company

You…have come to love Daniela

You awaken next to her every day, yearning for lips to curl into a smile when she stirs and rubs her face against you sleepily

Whenever you can- whenever she isn’t directly on top of you- you’ve taken to sitting by the fireplace in her room

While you can’t feel the heat, you know the armor making up your body heats up a little

And how adorable it is when she curls on top of you, cooing and basking in the warmth, her swarm buzzing so loud it almost sounds like she’s purring contentedly

You spend hours holding her in the morning, the gloved and armored fingertips making up your fingers gently combing through her hair

You wish, you could feel her

You wish, you could let her feel you

But, both of your love makes up for it

She’s head over heels for you and has been from the beginning. You are, quite literally, her knight in shining armor

And oh my, you know just how to make her feel like a princess

You love to pamper her, and she loves being pampered. And how could you ever deny her a thing, when she looks up at you so pleadingly? When her cute, golden eyes widen and she holds onto your chest-and shoulder plates

When her flies buzz so adorably…

You also notice- Daniela can be very clingy. Thankfully, you don’t mind

She likes holding onto you in some way at all times when she’s with you

At times, too eager to be close to you, her flies quite literally dart between the gaps in your armor, as though she wants to be within you, as though even holding you isn’t close enough for her

You love feeling her love

Daniela’s love is so…raw

So passionate and unfiltered

She shows you what you mean to her and is not shy to show you off at all. Though, you notice she is very possessive and can get quite jealous

As such, any doe eyed, curious maid looking at you is disposed of quickly

And still, you know how to calm her again, when you scoop her up off the floor and into your arms, when you hear her giggle and watch her caress your armor lovingly

Of course, all this does not mean you can’t get jealous, too

Especially when, unfortunately, far too many believe that you’re nothing but a mere construct to her and that she is for the taking

And while you have no blood running through you, you almost feel it boil from the anger you experience whenever a foolish staff member believes they can just come up to your girlfriend

Luckily, she only ever coos and giggles when you draw your sword and the person jumps away

Her knight in shining armor, indeed

She loves your protective side

Especially in winter you prefer accompanying her, well aware she’s a little more vulnerable then

Daniela is fast. You’re invincible. When you hear as much as a threatening noise, you step in front of her, your armor illuminated by the blue essence that is you and wills it to move, your sword drawn

And, of course, you’re always quick to step in when you hear the staff spreading rumors or scary stories about her, tales painting her as a monster. Even if she is one, you don’t care. She’s yours, your love, your passion, your princess

And you won’t let anybody badmouth her

And while it’s usually unnecessary, she would never stop you

If anything, she swoons, her cheeks pink, smiling wide

You do so love it when she smiles

Her favorite thing to do is to curl up on top of your lap after you’ve been sitting by the fire

She’ll often read to you, usually from one of the fairytales she loves so much

She’ll trace your armor as she reads, her voice gentle and smooth, her lips occasionally grazing your helmet before she rests against you again

Like this, the two of you can spend hours together and still feel like it has barely been a few minutes