#and found that what i had initially thought to be true WAS in fact true 😌

[queerdiazs]

tease tidbit tuesday 🫧

i was tagged by @disasterbuckdiaz, @daffi-990, and @exhuastedpigeon mwah mwah

i have semi-high hopes of finishing the heart attack fic tomorrow if i don't have to stand anymore beams in the barn loft, sigh, so have a little bit of something from that 🫶🏼

“You were dead for almost four minutes.”  Eddie sighs. “Damn,” he says, tossing his head back against the pillows and giving Buck a lazy, crooked smile. It’s so much like Christopher’s it hurts the fat meat of his heart. “There goes another one of my lives. Don’t know how many more I have left at this point.”  Something shoves up in Buck’s throat, mean and nasty and sour. It tastes like Eddie’s blood when he was shot.  “It’s not funny.”  Eddie laughs. “It’s a little funny,” he insists, wiggling his toes beneath the blanket and poking at Buck’s thigh. “I mean—Buck, come on. It’s okay to laugh. I am.”  Buck shakes his head. “You died, Eddie,” he says, quiet, and grabs Eddie’s squirming toes as a casual tether. “I don’t want to laugh at that.” 

no pressure tagging @giddyupbuck, @callmenewbie, @callaplums, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @eddiediaztho, @wikiangela, @wildlife4life, @eowon, @thewolvesof1998, @loserdiaz, @try-set-me-on-fire, @folk-fae, @fortheloveofbuddie, @hippolotamus, @honestlydarkprincess, @jesuisici33, @ladydorian05, @made-ofmemories, and @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy, and anybody else who wants to have fun!

[megwritesriddles]

Secret's Safe ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 15 - Blackmail. Reader discovers Riddle's true blood status and divulges this information to him. Riddle assumes she must be here to blackmail him and immediately attempts to seduce her, but things aren't all that simple for him actually going through with it.

Tags: Blackmail, Mildly dubious consent (barely), P in V sex, Biting, Virgin!Tom (implied), Pureblood politics, Sexism, Implied/Referenced death, murder and violence, Unspoken feelings, Feelings realisation, Oddly quite fluffy, Tom is forced to be vulnerable emotionally.

Word count: 5.5k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Lets not discuss how long this is or how late it is, thank you!! This ended up way different than I imagined going in, Tom is a bad guy in this like he's committed murders... but he's also inexperienced and realises he loves you so... This is nowhere near as dark as I thought it would be, the blackmail is barely blackmail!! Hope you like it mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Well, this was certainly interesting. You’d never expected this, but the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. The surname Riddle had never sounded familiar to you, and growing up, at all the Pureblood parties, no one had ever met Tom or any supposed family members. After the first year, he had started attending, but never with any family in tow, usually as a guest of Abraxas or somebody else. Why you hadn’t questioned it before you had no idea, you felt rather foolish now. Hindsight was always 20/20. Of course, there were those few pureblood families, like the Weasleys, who didn’t bother about those sorts of events, but Riddle had never given the impression that he came from such a family, always implying very powerful origins. In a way, he wasn’t wrong, with one discovery came another, that he was the heir of Slytherin. This was peripherally problematic to you, but you couldn’t put your finger on why it bothered you so much. Some distant memory writhing in the back of your mind, not making itself known. But the most glaring discovery for you had been Riddle’s muggle father. You were sure nobody knew about this, or else he certainly wouldn’t be in the circles he was in. 

The way you had discovered it had been rather unlikely, something Riddle surely wouldn’t have been counting on. You and Walburga were partnered on a project for Advanced Charms, it being the final year of Hogwarts, standards for what you came up with were high. After weeks of deliberation and workshopping, you’d settled on a book which could tell you family histories. Initially, the book’s function was for you to write in a plant name, and to see which other plant species it was closely related to and other pieces of information. Certainly interesting, but a little too Herbology for either of your liking, spitting out information neither of you could quite understand. After presenting the book to Professor Beery for a hefty extra credit and house point sum, you went back to workshopping. You’d figured out one evening how to get it to trace family histories, and this was the perfect idea, as all the information that came out was easy to understand, but could also be deeply valuable. You’d spent all evening fine-tuning it with Walburga. She was intimately familiar with her family history, so you used her as a control, making sure the facts remained accurate as you messed with the magic. It was finally done, and you would be presenting it next week. You’d taken the book back to your dorm and messed around with it before bed, taking great amusement in some of the ancient wizard’s names. Naming conventions had been so odd at some points. You traced practically every single one of your friends' histories, before landing on Riddle’s. 

Riddle wasn’t really a friend, as such. You sort of ran in the same circles and you were courteous to one another, but you weren’t close and at times you found him a little irksome. Perhaps it was this mythos that surrounded him, the idea that he had slept with three-quarters of the girls at Hogwarts who were of age. The idea that he could have you undone with one touch and that he did so often. Part of you was almost bitter he hadn’t propositioned you, given how much he allegedly got around, but you always felt he was intimidated by your intelligence. All the other girls, sure they were driven and intelligent, but they seemed to dumb themselves down around him, make themselves smaller. It was probably not even a conscious thing, many of the pureblood girls had been taught growing up never to threaten a man’s ego in any way. You’d always thought this was nonsense, that if you were more intelligent than a man that he ought to know it and needn’t be coddled, but for most of the girls, it just came naturally from a lifetime of training. You never bothered to shrink yourself around Riddle, to giggle and write off your high marks as a fluke if he came asking, you would simply say you did well because you were intelligent, and you guessed he didn’t like this because he avoided you for the most part. Whenever he did speak to you, it was usually to compare grades, or, in a group setting. He always seemed to know just a little too much about what was going on with you, what grades you’d gotten, what teachers you were meeting with. You chalked it up to him being Head Boy, but no one else received quite this much attention. 

You wrote down his name into the book anyway, figuring the surname ‘Riddle’ begat some entertaining first names. What immediately greeted you as the information materialised on the page had been a bit of a shock. His father, whose name was otherwise completely unfamiliar to you, did not have any parents listed, or further back. You sat in confusion for a moment trying to figure out why that could be, but came to no conclusions. You pushed the thought away and studied his mother’s heritage. Merope Gaunt. Gaunt, finally a name you recognised, but not a woman you could ever attest to having met at any pureblood events. You realise she’s listed as dead, that would perhaps explain a thing or two. You feel a hint of sympathy creeping over you at the realisation that both his parents are listed as dead, his father only rather recently. You wondered why he hadn’t mentioned to anyone that his father had died over the previous summer.  You trace his ancestry back all the way to Salazar Slytherin, momentarily impressed, before the realisation of why his father has no listed relatives hits you. The book was made only to track wizarding blood. His father was a muggle. 

The realisation was immediately brushed off. No, there was some other explanation, Riddle was one of the most pompous purebloods you knew, even by your standards, the idea of his father being a muggle was preposterous. You went back over the enchantments on the book, trying to figure out what other reason there might be for his father’s heritage to be blank, but come up empty-handed. He had to be a muggle. 

You keep the information to yourself for the next few days, turning it over in your mind. A muggle, it was very hard to believe, especially with how Riddle acted. He probably noticed your staring, but you couldn’t stop yourself from doing it, seeing him in an entirely new light. Tom Riddle, the orphan, the half-blood. It was confusing, to say the least. Your staring problem must have been worse than you thought because one day he sweeps you aside in the Slytherin common room and smiles charmingly.

“Is there an issue?” he prompts politely, eyes drinking in your face. “Only you keep staring,” you blink at him. You’re almost tempted to tell him ‘I know who you are,’ but you keep it inside for now.

“Shouldn’t you be used to that?” you smile. He chuckles slightly. 

“I don’t get the feeling you’re merely admiring me,” his eyes study yours for a moment and then he takes hold of your arm, leaning a little closer. “Tell me what it really is,” his voice is low and smooth as velvet, and for a moment you understand his mythos a little better. You glance around the busy common room. 

“I’m sure you wouldn’t like me to say it here,” you try to subtly warn him, but he clearly understands this to mean something suggestive, his brow raising. 

“I see,”

“If you really must know, then we must go somewhere private,” you insist, knowing how much this could blow up in his face if word spread around the common room. You’re not even sure why you’re shielding him from it, perhaps the revelation of his mother dying in childbirth makes you more gracious toward him. You’re surprised how much he hesitates, given how he’s interpreted the situation. If he’s supposedly slept with most of the girls in the year group, why would it be you who gives him pause? You know you’re not ugly enough for him to be this apprehensive, does he really feel so threatened by you? It all seems odd. Finally, he leads you away, toward his dorm room, private quarters for the Head Boy. You realise how this must all look, to him and to onlookers, but you’re sure he’s in for quite the disappointment when he discovers what this is really about. He gestures for you to sit at his desk and he sits on the edge of his bed. The distance he puts between you intrigues you, what is this about? 

“Well?” he urges, swallowing a little. Why is he so anxious? Does he know somehow already? You’ve never seen him like this before.

“This really isn’t what you think it is,” you begin. His brows furrow. “I uh… know about your father,” Riddle goes unbelievably tense and red in the face, his breaths becoming laboured. You watch him, curious. He glares at you scruntinisngly. There are several things you might be referring to, all of them bad, he doesn’t know from your expression which it is. 

“What?” he croaks, his usual composure hanging on by a thread, you’re worried he’s about to lash out and start smashing up the room and you with it. His body is taut like a bowstring.

“That he’s a muggle,” you respond. You can’t understand why he relaxes slightly at this, but he does, though he still looks tense and mortified. He puffs out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face. He’s not arguing, so you know it must be true. “And that he’s dead,” you add. He tenses all over again, his eyes flicking back to you. “Sorry for your loss,” he relaxes once more.

“Right yes… that was… terrible when he… died,” he puffs out, unsure how to interpret this situation. You don’t look angry or scared, so you must be missing a few puzzle pieces here. He should have expected that someone would discover this one day, his surname wasn’t a part of the sacred 28. He hadn’t known about that in the first year, and once he’d already introduced himself as pureblood, he could hardly backtrack or change his name, so he just prayed his confidence would keep him getting by, and surprisingly it had, until now. It wasn’t a surprise it was you who found out, you were always irritatingly observant, it was honestly more of a surprise it had taken this long. He stares at you for a moment and you stare back. “What do you want?” he asks, figuring you’ve come to gloat in his face and demand he do your homework for the rest of the year or something. He would do it, he really couldn’t afford this getting out, especially not to his Knights. The fact you hadn’t already told everyone indicated an intention to blackmail him, you could have easily spread the word already, but you were smarter than that, he knew you were.

“What do I want?” you tilt your head quizically.

“I assume you’re here to blackmail me, so just tell me already,” he sighs, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He was furious with himself that he hadn’t prepared in any way for this eventuality. What would he have done if you’d spread the word without coming to him first? His whole plan, everything he’d been working for would have crumbled in minutes. He would have probably killed you, although the thought gives him pause now, it wouldn’t have really fixed things anyway. 

Blackmail hadn’t actually crossed your mind, but you supposed you were in the perfect position to do so. As you watched him, discomposed for seemingly the first time in his life, you realised just how much he needed this information to remain secret with you. You could ask him for anything and he would probably do it. At your silence, Riddle lets out a frustrated howl and collapses back onto his bed, clearly thinking you’re playing some game with him. He runs his hands through his hair, staring up at the canopy above his bed. His hair is messed up, you realise you’ve never seen it like this, free of its immaculate style. The look suits him. His arms thud onto the bed at his sides and he groans again. You stand and come to kneel beside him on the bed without much thought. He looks up at you through his lashes, half angry, half intensely vulnerable. It's odd to be looking down at him like this, but it’s also a little exhilarating.

“Just tell me what you want, I’ll give it to you,” he pleads, staring up at you. “Come on, darling,” he tries his best to be his charming self even in this state, reaching for your hand. “I’ll do anything,” His cold hand on yours stirs something odd in you, he brings the back of your hand to his mouth and kisses it, his eyes locked on yours. He’s not sure what he’s doing, but it’s working, he watches as you blush. He kisses slowly up your arm, eyes locked on yours the whole while. As his lips brush the ticklish skin of the inside of your elbow, you finally withdraw your arm. He frowns, thinking he’d figured you out.

“Why have you never propositioned me?” you ask, your voice a little too serious for how insecure the question sounds leaving your lips. His brows furrow and he moves to sit up in front of you.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve supposedly slept with nearly the entire legal female population of Hogwarts and you’ve never propositioned me?” you hate how insecure you sound, but it’s something that you realise has been bothering you for a long time, as stupid as it is. He stares at you.

“You’re supposed to be smart,” he scoffs, and then changes his approach, figuring offending you is a terrible idea at the moment. “Have you ever actually spoken to any girl who has a story about sleeping with me, or is it all hearsay?” his words make you comb back through all the wild stories you’ve heard. He’s right, none of them have ever come directly from someone, all having started with something to the effect of ‘my friend heard…’. You study his face for a moment and he raises a prompting brow.

“No, I suppose you’re right,” you admit, chewing your lip. There are so many things that you should have been paying more attention to, this was another plainly obvious fact with hindsight. “So… what’s the truth?” he looks away from you, hesitating. “Oh come on, as if I don’t know worse things about you by now,” you tease. He glares for a moment but concedes that you’re right about that. 

“None of it is true, no girl at this school is… good enough for me, I suppose,” he mumbles, sticking his chin up. 

“Good enough for you?” you hum.

“I can’t give myself away to just anyone… it’s…” he hesitates, knowing he sounds completely pathetic despite his attempts to reframe this. 

“You’re waiting for the right person?” you chuckle. “How uncharacteristic of you,” he huffs.

“Oh shut up, will you? It’s just… I don’t trust… very easily�� and people underestimate how much trust is involved in an act like sex… you are completely vulnerable, physically and emotionally,” he crosses his arms defensively as he explains himself. “You could hardly defend yourself if the other person were to attack you during it,” you tilt your head at him. “It leaves you weak, in every sense of the word, so I have seen no need to participate,”

“That must have been a big disappointment to many witches,” you tease. He rolls his eyes. 

“I can usually charm my way out of any issues, and the gossip around my ‘conquests’ has persisted, so it can’t have caused that much strife,” he finishes. You hum, supposing he’s right. “None of the girls are intelligent enough for me here,” he asserts. You scoff.

“Awfully sexist of you,”

“Hardly,�� he snaps back. “None of the boys are suitable either, but I don’t consider them because I’m not… that way inclined,”

“Anyway, I didn’t think you liked intelligence in a woman,” you add. 

“Why would I not? I love intelligence, I require intelligence, I would never fraternise with somebody lacking intellect, I would be far too bored,” he glances at you from the corner of his eye.

“But you don’t seem to like when I assert my intelligence,” you shrug.

“You’re different,”

“Why?” you laugh in disbelief. “I’m too intelligent that it threatens you?”

“No!” he hisses. “For one, you use your brains for the most infuriating of things, such as looking into my family history,” you’re tempted to interrupt him and tell him that the discovery had been an accident but you stay quiet. 

“And for two?” you press. He’s silent for a long moment. 

“Is this what you wanted? Blackmailing me into an argument? Because I’m sure we could have found a reason to argue without all this,” he griped. You sighed. No, you hadn’t particularly wanted to argue, you hadn’t particularly wanted anything, you’d intended to keep this information to yourself really and then when it had come out, you hadn’t considered blackmail until he brought it up. Your mind flashes back to his kisses up your arm, a warm tingle going through you. 

“Were you attempting to seduce me earlier?” he glances at you, his cheeks just slightly pink. “Even though you’re waiting for the right person?” you add with a chuckle. He sighs. 

“I might have been, I figured it was my best bet,” he shrugs it off, feigning nonchalance. 

“What would you have done if I had gone with it?” you tilt your head curiously.

“Gone with it, I suppose,” he looks down, fiddling with his tie pin, feeling more uncomfortable than he was ever used to feeling.

“You’d have slept with me?” you enquire. He nods subtly, puffing out a short breath. “Even though I might have stabbed you in the back or something?” you tease. He glares at you.

“You wouldn’t do that,” he dismisses.

“So you trust me?” you challenge. He immediately opens his mouth to protest but then falters. Does he trust you? He knows you would never attack him physically, and he tries to brush that off as the belief that you are physically weak, but he knows that’s not true. If he were to attack you, he has no doubt you would put up quite a fight, but that you would never initiate. He hadn’t even thought through the fact that despite all his reservations, he really had been trying to seduce you, and not even reluctantly. He would have slept with you, and he wouldn’t have been afraid of what you might do to him. Sure, the emotional vulnerability was still a point of contention, but initially, he hadn’t had the time to consider that. Now that he’s given it some proper consideration, why is he not changing his mind?

“I suppose,” his voice is strained, like this is taking a great deal of effort for him to say. “That in some weird way I do trust you,” his expression is pained and he won’t look at you, but you know those words mean way more than they do on the surface. He’s never admitted to trusting anyone before, at least not truthfully, and to admit it to you… it’s frightening, and yet he did it anyway. You hold out your hand to him to see what he’ll do. He takes your cue despite himself, taking hold of it and kissing the back of your hand a few times. His lips are gentle and you quite like the feeling. Sure, he told you the rumours about him were false, but perhaps he really could make you come undone with just one touch, if you only showed him where to put it. “I’ll sleep with you if that’s what you like,” he admits quietly. “I need you to keep my secret, I’ll do anything,”

“Would you like to sleep with me?” you ask. He looks up at you, lips pressing against your wrist. His look is a little pained again, you’re not sure how to read it.

“I’ll do it,” he grits out.

“But do you want to? I don’t want to force you to sleep with me…” you try again. He gives you that pained look once more. He doesn’t want to say it out loud, to admit to such weaknesses as need and lust, he hopes you understand without words. He kisses all the way up your arm, leaning closer and caging you in as he starts to press kisses to your neck. You exhale shakily, placing your hands on his shoulders as he continues to lavish you with tender kisses. He presses you back, back until you fall onto his pillows and he follows you down, positioning his body over you, his hands on either side of your shoulders. He’s breathing hard as he looks down at you, his pupils dilated. You stare back up at him, still a little unsure. “Riddle… don’t force yourself, I don’t–”

He cuts you off with a deep kiss to your lips, you gasp slightly and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring slowly. This kiss is not forced, this kiss is genuine and furiously wanting and the thought makes you moan. He shivers in return, kissing a little harder. Your hands come to his shoulders again as he comes to rest on his forearms, his neck no longer straining to you. You part your legs so he can settle between them, his hips pressing to yours. You can’t help but gasp again when you feel his erection press against you. He smiles against your lips, his signature cocky smirk returning. 

“You sound amazing when you gasp like that for me,” he taunts. You roll your eyes, kissing him once more. It’s almost impressive how he’s able to maintain that arrogant air throughout all this. You hate it, yet you can’t deny the soft pulsing feeling between your legs. He continues to kiss you, his lips pressing against yours, his tongue slowly swirling and caressing, the sound of your lips meeting is both erotic and hypnotic, lulling you further into your aroused state. Your eyes are closed in bliss, but occasionally you open them for a glimpse of him. His lashes flutter as he kisses you, his cheeks are flushed which you didn’t even realise was possible before today, and his hair falls forward, surprisingly curling up a little as it encounters the sweat forming on his forehead. He kisses you like it’s his favourite thing in the world, gentle yet thorough, and you hope it is so that you might get to do this with him again. His kisses get a little needier as you feel him hardening further against you, pressing against you more insistently. Your hand settles on the back of his neck and you hold him in place as he kisses you. He grunts appreciatively, sucking on your bottom lip. He sits up suddenly, disconnecting your lips. You pant as you stare up at him in confusion, wondering if he’s stopping this from going further, but instead, he’s loosening your tie. You lie there and let him do the work, after all, he’s meant to be keeping you sweet. He doesn’t seem to mind. He takes great satisfaction in slowly peeling away your clothes, discarding your tie, and then unbuttoning your shirt. He’s making you vulnerable beneath him and he’s drunk on the feeling, although, he doesn’t intend to hurt or exploit you, he’s never had such pure intentions in anything he’s done before in his life. Which is odd, considering you’re about to sleep together. He traces the lace of your bra with his fingertips. “Been expecting me?” he teases, wondering about how nice the bra is, black and lacy.

“No, just a happy accident,” you chuckle as he runs the lace between his fingers. He’s a little disappointed that you hadn’t had this all planned out all along, but he figures there’s plenty of time for that in the future. It doesn’t occur to him at the moment that he’s just admitted to himself that he intends to do this again with you. He takes hold of your waist and eases you up to sit. He gives you a few gentle kisses on your neck, making you throw your head back and then he reaches around to your back to unclasp your bra. He’s heard horror stories of embarrassment from his peers, so takes a moment to acquaint himself with the mechanism, running his hands back and forth along your back as you rest heavily against his chest, your chin on his shoulder. Once he understands how it works, he uses both hands to unhook it easily. He slides the straps down your arms and bares you to his gaze. You lean back to give him a view, enjoying his wide-eyed look. He cups your breasts in his hands and kisses you once again. He lays you back down, gently kneading your flesh, groaning at the feeling. You’re soft and warm and it feels so good that he wishes you’d found out he was half-blood earlier, or that he’d been less stuck-up this whole time and propositioned you like you seem to have wanted. He moves his hands down to your stomach, stroking for a moment before popping to button on your skirt and sliding down the zip. He then eases the fabric down over your hips.

“Matching set,” he comments upon spying your lacy black underwear. “Sure you weren’t expecting me?” you roll your eyes. 

“Yes, I’m sure,”

“Someone else?” he questions as uninterestedly as possible. You chuckle, sensing the hint of jealousy in his tone.

“No, just wanted to feel good for myself,” he nods at your answer, hoping you don’t spot his relief. He runs his hands up and down your hips and waist, occasionally squeezing the supple flesh. 

“The female body is quite… pleasant under the hands,” he comments, kneading your hips gently. You give him a look. “Well… your body is anyway,” he runs his thumbs over your stomach. You smile up at him and he avoids your gaze, not wanting to confront the way that look just made him feel. He decides to speed things along, desperate to come out of this alive. He moves back enough to remove his own tie and shirt, secretly enjoying the way you’re watching. Then he stands and slowly lowers his trousers, taking his boxers with them. There’s no use delaying the inevitable and he’s hardly ashamed of his body. He steps out of his trousers and sits back down between your legs. He kneads your thighs as he lets you look him over.

“That scar on your chest–” you begin but he cuts you off quickly with a kiss, not wishing to discuss this right now when he’s so close to you, to having you. If you started asking about all his various scars, you’d be here a long time, and you’d run away from him well before he finally got to sink into your cunt for the first time. The thought stirs his cock. No, he can’t let you ask questions until later, he needs to have this at least once, he hasn’t even realised how much he’s been waiting for it. For… you. His cock rests heavily on you through the lace of your underwear, hot to the touch. He kisses you intently, sensual and all-consuming until you forget your line of questioning. He’s smug that he’s able to do that to you, perhaps he should have kissed you the second you started bringing things up you weren't supposed to. Perhaps by the end of this, you’ll have forgotten how it started and only remember the way he’d made you feel. Yes, that would be good. The thought urges him on, he nearly rips off your underwear. You squeak indignantly and he kisses your neck in an effort to placate you. He didn’t really care if he’d ripped them or not, but he couldn’t have you turning your back on him now. Not after he’s bared himself like this. He reaches down and lines himself up with you, ready to plunge in, but one last thought keeps him at bay.

“Are you on the potion?” he grunts, nuzzling into your neck. 

“Yeah,” you swallow, staring down at where the two of you are about to be joined together. He waits for nothing else, easing himself into you, he groans loudly against your neck, the warmth surrounding him feeling euphoric. Your arms settle around his back, holding him close to you and he lets you, leaning against you heavily. He grits his teeth, trying to keep in control, but he can’t. His hips start rutting into you fast, he needs this and he has you now, he can’t stop himself. You grip his shoulders hard, gasping and wailing, the sounds only egging him on. 

“Yeah?” he groans between thrusts as you whine sweetly in his ear. “That feel good..? fuck…” he’s not one to usually swear in this way, part of his charming demeanour, but he can’t help it slipping out with you. You make him all sorts of vulgar that he’s never been before. He pounds into you, glad that you don’t seem to mind his ferocity. He’ll be gentle with you some other time, but right now, all this pent-up energy needs to come out, and you’re receiving it so well. “Taking me so well, darling,” he chokes out, and you moan in response, seemingly touched by his words. He lifts himself up onto his hands, staring down at you, his hips slamming into yours. He watches your beautiful face in fascination as it twists with pleasure. He’s never taken so much enjoyment in making someone feel good before, it reminds him of the feeling he gets when he exerts power over someone, but better, because it’s you and he– 

He can’t finish that thought, he refuses to. It’s too much. He keeps up his relentless pace, closing his eyes because the sight of you is stirring his chest along with the stirring in his stomach. His thrusts slow, but become deeper and more powerful. You moan unabashedly under him and the sound invades his mind, consuming him completely. He leans back down and buries his face in your neck biting down as his hips stutter and he spills deep inside you. The biting is the only thing preventing him from saying something he knows he’ll regret in his dizzy orgasmic state. Three disgusting little words that he’s never thought before in his life, that surely, he can’t mean now, even if they’re fighting their way out of his mouth. When he feels you orgasming around him, he clamps down on your neck harder, tasting a little blood. He finds himself feeling sorry for doing it. He lets go, gasping for breath. He presses a kiss to the bite mark on your neck, reluctantly apologetic. You whimper beneath him and he pulls back to check you’re okay. You are, just overwhelmed, he is too, though he’s not letting it show as blatantly as you are. He withdraws slowly from you, whining in tandem with you at the feeling. He sits back up between your legs, looking down at you. Your eyes are closed as you gather yourself. You trust him enough to lie there with your eyes closed, he could do anything to you right now. Things he has done to others before, and yet there you lie, trusting him like he trusts you. He scoops you up into his arms and rests your head against his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry for drawing blood,” he mumbles as if it’s enough of an excuse for him to hold you like this. He kisses the bite mark again, secretly a little thrilled that it’s there, a physical reminder of all this. He soothes your back, rubbing soft circles, an action he’s never performed before. “You’ll keep my secret right?” he asks, and realises suddenly he doesn’t know what he’s referring to. The fact of his blood status? The lie of his mythos? The fact he’s just slept with you, been this vulnerable? Or… the worst one of them all? The unspoken words that he’s sure you’re smart enough to have heard in the silence by now. You don’t know which he’s referring to either, but you answer sincerely nonetheless. 

“Your secret is safe with me, Tom,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

thank you to @i-live-in-spite and several anonymous asks whose ideas I pulled from a little to form this plot, lots of love ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[charmwasjess]

Still thinking about Galidraan, about the Legends vs Canon treatment of Dooku’s character, namely his exit from the Jedi. 

It’s funny how much it matters to me and improves Dooku’s story that he didn’t leave the Jedi out of growing disillusionment with the Order itself. In the current canon, it’s all framed around a very Padme-esque disenchantment with current political makeup of the Republic, the Jedi being used by the Senate and political machines inappropriately, and how planets with little wealth or influence are left out. In the penultimate moment of crisis, he leaves for Serenno, not because he can’t be a Jedi any longer. Because of a conviction that he could truly make something better. 

And I don’t mean to suggest that he never expresses any criticism of the Jedi or particularly, the Council. He seems to have founded that characteristic trait within the Disaster Lineage. (Ironically, the person in Dooku’s story who should have the most legitimate reason to have a personal problem with the Jedi Order is fucking Sifo-Dyas, who never seems to have considered leaving and literally dies telling the camera he did it all to save the Jedi, but that’s a different post.) But that isn't what compels Dooku to leave. In fact, he remains close with the Order for years afterward.

Why it matters to me is because that detail makes Dooku ultimately betraying the Order SO MUCH MORE FUCKED. 

Because they weren’t an old score he was settling. It wasn't seething resentment that boiled out into revenge years later. They were innocent collateral damage of his decisions. His family. His lineage. His legacy. It makes his treachery so much more personal. He had a wager, power for a horrible cost, and he took the power and paid the horrible cost. Sidious really gets him with:

If Dooku hated them and had always thought they deserved to be destroyed, it wouldn’t have been a true Sith bargain, the trade off wouldn’t have tallied. In the same way that Vader could not have existed if Anakin hadn’t loved Padme and yet still killed her.

If Dooku was just a horrible, conceited, power-hungry ass who expectedly traded the kinda shitty people in his life for a shot at more power, it wouldn’t be a very good story. If he really didn’t give a shit, why would Sidious make that his initiation? But if he does - does care deeply about Sifo-Dyas, does love Qui-Gon like a son, is touched by Yaddle’s kindness and sympathy, begins to see Asajj as a true apprentice, consistently tries to save Obi-Wan out of affection, still considers the Jedi his true family - and yet still dooms them all, how much more tragic and horrible and sickening and real and interesting is his story?

[azrielbrainrot]

Hot Blooded

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Cuddle for Warmth

Description: You and Eris have to keep each other warm when you find yourselves stuck in a cabin during a snow storm.

Warnings: Smut, fingering, vaginal sex, riding, dirty talk

Word Count: ~2,4k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: This was initially supposed to be a temperature play focused story but it turned into this instead, I hope that's okay!

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Walking into a small cabin in the middle of nowhere after being stuck in the snow for hours only to find all of the windows were broken and there were holes in the ceiling felt like a cruel joke. If you were alone you might have even cried at how frustrated you felt. You were beyond freezing, the wet clothes you wore only making it worse, and exhausted, both mentally and physically.

Just as you were preparing yourself to walk back out and brave the storm, Eris closes the door behind him and makes his way to the middle of the room, studying his surroundings. There really wasn't much to see, just an old couch missing most of its pillows and broken pieces of wood. If you gathered them it might have been enough to start a fire, especially with his powers, but since the windows couldn't keep the wind out there would be no use in even trying.

“Eris,” you call out, waiting for the Autumn Court heir to look up at you, “We can't stay here.”

“Why not?”

He asks so dismissively that it takes you a few moments to recover. In the meantime he keeps pacing around the room, picking up a blanket that looked like it was hanging on by a thread. Maybe the cold was messing with his brain or something.

“I'm not made of fire. I will freeze to death,” you explain slowly as if you were talking to a child.

“I can't keep a fire going in here either,” he continues your line of thought, at least letting you know the cold wasn't affecting his thinking skills, “but we can't keep going until the snow storm slows down.”

A defeated sigh escapes you. While it was true that going back out there was out of the question since it was only a matter of time before your body gave out, staying here wasn't much better, you can already feel your body getting colder from standing still.

“Are you sure you can't winnow out?” You already knew the answer, your own power being denied to you, but you can't help asking just to make sure.

“Yes, I can barely access my powers as is,” he responds, sighing like you were a petulant child, “Whatever ward was set around this place is extremely powerful.”

“I thought you were supposed to be extremely powerful too,” you bite back.

Eris simply rolls his eyes, not even attempting to argue with you. This meant he had to be even more exhausted than you initially thought, or he wouldn't have let you get away with that comment. You watch as he throws the old blanket he found to a corner, the one where the air coming from the broken windows didn't hit as intensely, surprising you even more when he takes off his thick jacket right after.

“What are you doing?”

“This blanket won't be too much help in this situation,” he says as if it explained why he was taking his clothes off in the middle of a snow storm.

“Then why are you stripping? That's going to make it worse.” You move closer to him, raising your hands, debating if you should stop him from unbuttoning his shirt during what had to be some sort of manic episode.

“Our best bet right now is keeping each other warm through our body heat,” he starts, watching your face go through a myriad of emotions with amusement, “Like you said, my body is made of fire so to speak. I'll keep you warm.”

This made sense, you knew that, in fact you were a bit ashamed you didn't immediately think of it, but as he takes off his shirt slowly your thoughts scatter. By the time you manage to get your body to start moving, Eris had already stripped down to his underwear, placed his damp clothes over the couch to hopefully dry, and sat on the corner, covering himself with the blanket.

He looks up at you expectantly, tilting his head slightly when you simply stare back. “I don't want to rush you, sweetheart, but if you don't hurry we will actually freeze to death.”

Swallowing and averting your eyes, you reach for your jacket, taking it off and placing it next to the rest of his clothes. You can't help but hesitate as you hold onto the hem of your shirt, unable to ignore the amber eyes burning into you.

“Close your eyes,” you whisper.

“Seriously?” He asks with a chuckle, complying with your request all the same, eyes already closed when he adds, “Didn't take you to be this shy.”

You usually weren't, definitely wouldn't be when it came to a situation concerning life or death such as this one, but the mostly naked person in front of you was Eris, the infuriatingly beautiful male who could get under your skin like no one else.

The moment his shirt started coming off, you were reminded of a party a few years ago, where both of you had gotten lost in your drinks and shitty lives and forgot that you were supposed to hate each other, making out right outside the bar. No matter how many years passed you still could feel his warm hands holding onto your waist, lifting you up against the wall, and the taste of his lips on yours.

Dropping the rest of your clothes over the couch, you move to him, the shivers running up and down your body not all caused by the icy wind whistling through the windows. Lingering in front of him for only a second before turning around and sitting in his lap, trying not to think about the fact that his bare skin was pressed against yours.

His hands fall on your waist as soon as he feels you in front of him, helping you get settled in silence, but he only opens his eyes after the blanket is draped over your body.

There was no doubt in your mind that you were both reminded of that same night, and maybe of all the others where a simple word or touch could have triggered the same reaction. You were getting warmer already without the cold clothes clinging to you, and while you hadn't meant it literally, it did feel like his body was made of fire as your cold skin lay against his chest. You don't know if he was using his magic to warm himself up further but it was making you melt into him.

“We shouldn't have come without backup,” you whisper, adjusting so you weren't leaning on his shoulder so much, the silence between you making you far too aware of your position. In truth, you barely remembered why you were there in the first place at this point, but you needed to say something.

“There was no one else I could trust,” he says, one of his arms wrapping around your middle, chest rumbling against your back as he spoke, “at least we know for certain something is hiding here or there wouldn't be any need for such a barrier in the middle of the mountain.”

You hum in response, not knowing what else to say, trying to sit up straighter again when you feel him tense up against you and his hold on your body tightening. At first you thought you could have hurt him, but when he doesn't say anything else or move again, you turn your head around in question, only feeling something poking against your backside when you meet his amber eyes.

“You need to stop moving,” he murmurs, half lidded eyes staring back into yours.

Swallowing around a dry throat, you turn back around, staring into the furthest wall and trying your best to distract yourself, counting down the seconds and imagining yourself sitting at a chair instead of on the lap of Eris fucking Vanserra. Trying to remember why you ever hated him in the first place, replaying in your head all the times you annoyed each other, all the petty fights and vile words you spit at each other. Your efforts are all in vain though, a different kind of heat manifesting itself in the pit of your stomach, especially as you're also reminded of all the times he was there for you, of the reason you had come to the middle of nowhere at his request with no questions asked.

A curse escapes him, head falling back to hit the wall behind you as both his and your scents start thickening, to the point even the icy wind circulating around the room couldn't mask it. You can't be sure what was going through his head, but you can almost hear his control snapping before he lays his hand over your stomach, pulling you closer into him, warm palm sending goosebumps across your skin.

“Eris,” you whisper, whether telling him to stop or keep going you weren't sure.

He shushes you, lips finding the side of your neck at the same time his hand moves lower, quickly finding the hem of your panties, warm fingers moving side to side just above it, making you tremble as they awaken your frostbitten skin. “We have to wait until the storm settles anyway. Why don't we make up for some lost time?”

“Lost time?” Eris hums behind you, the vibration rumbling under your skin.

“Haven't been able to stop thinking about that night even after all this time,” he starts, hand moving under your panties, quickly finding your clit and rolling it between his fingers, purring at the little noises escaping you. “If we hadn't been interrupted I would have fucked you right there.” He throws one of your legs over his so he could spread your thighs more, inserting a finger into you slowly as his other hand moves under your bra, teasing your nipple softly. “Fuck, I've been thinking about this ever since I first layed eyes on you.”

Your moans rise in tempo as he fucks you slowly, warming you up from the inside. Part of you was convinced you had actually fainted in the snow and were simply stuck in a weirdly realistic dream, but this wouldn't have been the first time he showed up in your dreams and they never felt quite like this.

His warm hands felt heavenly against your still too cold body, and the little kisses and bites he was leaving around your neck were driving you absolutely insane. You were also not surprised that even in this situation he couldn't keep his smart mouth shut, the sinful words he whispered in your ear only sending you further into madness, hips moving into his hand, grinding back into his hard cock at the same time.

A familiar knot starts coiling itself deep inside you, a whine of his name escaping before you reach for his hand and stop him. Just as he freezes and goes to ask what was wrong, you turn in his arms, kissing him before he has the chance to. You'd been craving his touch for so long that you wanted to do this properly, needed to see him and touch him, needed to taste him again.

He kisses you back immediately, hands falling to your waist as you straddle him, one hand reaching between your bodies to find his hard cock, swallowing the moan he lets out, both uncaring of the blanket falling around you.

The way he was fucking up into your hand, his own gripping your hips tight enough to bruise, almost makes you want to watch him fall apart under you like this, but you needed him too much, the same frenzy you had felt that night all those years ago returning, except you couldn't blame the alcohol this time.

You lift your hips and line his cock with your entrance as he pushes your panties to the side, staring into each other's eyes as you slowly lower yourself on him, moaning out at how deliciously he stretches you out.

Pulling you back down for a kiss, he starts guiding your hips up and down his cock, your hands getting lost in his silky hair, grabbing onto his shoulders for leverage, nails biting into his skin as pleasure overtakes all your senses. You couldn't even feel the cold against your heated skin, it could have started snowing inside the house and you probably wouldn't have stopped.

He was right you needed to make up for lost time, you can't believe you've been missing out in this, on him. Eris pulls away so he can watch you, blown out eyes staring into yours like he could find salvation in your gaze.

“Don't stop, doll.” You moan out at the pet name, at his deep voice begging you to keep going. “Need to feel you cum around my cock.”

As much as you usually hate taking orders from him, this one you were more than happy to follow, speeding despite the way your muscles ached, letting yourself get lost in the pleasure, in the feeling of his warm skin against yours, in the way his teeth sank into your skin as he chased his own high.

It crashes over you, taking your breath away as you both cling on to each other, curses and moans of his name escaping your lips, grinding into him until sensitivity has you trembling. He pulls you in for another kiss, savoring each other's taste and warmth, leaning his forehead against yours as he whispers, “I'm not letting you get away this time.”

You let out a sigh, pecking his lips again, eyes fluttering open, leaning back so you can watch him. One of your hands reaches to cup his cheek, the vulnerability in his eyes almost taking your breath away. Eris Vanserra always wore a mask, a cruel and twisted mask that had been meticulously crafted over the centuries, and as much as you've caught glimpses behind it, you had never seen him so open.

“I'm not going anywhere, Eris,” you promise, letting him kiss you again.

You spend the rest of the night cuddling under that blanket, so wrapped up in whispered confessions and sweet promises that neither of you notices the snow had stopped falling and the first rays of sunrise were already filtering in through the clouds.

[child-of-the-danube]

I'm still in my Lilia brain rot era and I keep thinking about her and Agatha, and their dynamic and parallels.

Like, Agatha is a dick to everyone from the start, even Teen, but she's extremely chill and even, for her being who she is, weirdly respectful towards Lilia. Maybe it's because of the age, maybe it's because Lilia was the only one to show she still had true power when they first met, maybe it's because they share experience and persecution the younger ones don't truly understand, maybe Agatha just has a soft spot for those who are very clearly outcasts and weirdos.

The only sting at Lilia I can recall is calling her "Dory" in the last trial lmao

She never once questions or mocks her gaps. Hell, she said "we came to the right place" AFTER she saw Lilia scream her head off in ep2 over, to them, nothing. "Hmm, this bitch a lil bonkers, but that's exactly what I like and need :)"

She told Lilia that she couldn't take her power unless she's blasted with it - something she was certainly aiming for if the door didn't open and that ended up saving them in ep2 when she was using her ye old technique of being a menace. She may have told it to her only to get her in, but that's a big minus to her plan B.

When everyone had their hallucinations, Agatha didn't mock Lilia when she was, once again, "being weird". She believed her and reassured her in a soft tone that it was ok.

One interaction I found really funny is in ep3 when Teen asks about a sous vide machine and Agatha turns to Lilia with that "What the fuck is that? That wasn't around in our time" look

Usually when one of them starts spewing wisdom, someone will give a snarky remark, usually Agatha, but when they were talking about summoning a new green witch, Agatha let Lilia speak and was the only one who, at least somewhat, listened to her advice (50/50 but still haha). It was Lilia after all who was the first one to, tho reluctantly, agree to Agatha's idea of summoning a back up green witch.

Also the way Agatha looks at Lilia when she calls Jen out for giving Sharon only one dose of antidote when she had two glasses of wine. It's just so "mmm 😈 I like this one"

Agatha's first choice for "who could possibly play piano" wasn't Alice. Ya know the daughter of a rock goddess who would be the most logical choice. It was Lilia and I find that sweet and a lil funny too.

Lilia didn't tell Agatha's Salem story with judgement, even if she said "when Agatha killed her original coven". It was delivered as mere fact to explain the story.

Then when Evanora showed up and Lilia looks angry and almost disgusted at what she's hearing her say to Agatha. Even after Alice's death, she didn't jump on Agatha's back and accuse her. She let her be cause she was clearly distraught.

Agatha "I'm not drinking the poison. You can suffer but I won't!" Harkness jumped on Lilia and covered her with her own body in the latest episode when the sword was about to impale her. And then she let her do her magic even if it didn't seem to work as the ceiling was still falling and even if she thought tarot was bullshit. She trusted she knew what she was doing.

And the look they give eachother when Lilia reveals Rio is Death. Lilia's face reads as terrified, but more than terrified, she seems to have a moment of compassion. It's the look of "How deeply fucked must your life have been that the only one that ever showed you love and kindness is the one who everyone else sees as the bringer of pain?". Death broke Lilia's heart many a time, but in that moment she understood, she broke Agatha's heart too in even worse ways.

AGATHA LIKED HER! SHE LIKED HER FROM THE START AND RESPECTED HER! AND LILIA LIKED HER TOO, DESPITE THE INITIAL SUSPICIONS!!!

I need to know what her reaction to finding out Lilia sacrificed herself to kill the threat that was specifically after her will be. Will she brush it off and pretend she doesn't care to keep appearing stern and emotionless or will this be the thing that finally makes her realise people care for her? Cause Agatha has never had anyone, except literal Death, show her kindness, much less sacrifice themselves so she could keep living. And I find it beautifully poetic that the one other person Death has known well for centuries, who Death has acknowledged by name in that coven, was the one to do that.

Again, I'm aware that this is just my brain rot speaking, but Lilia was truly the MVP. She's the one with wisdom, the biggest experience, the one with seemingly most patience, the hype man ("Jennifer, look what you did", "It was all for you", "Don't worry, baby. We're cool"). Her trial is the only one where the rest was in fact not needed and was of no help. Actually, all they did was make it worse. The first three trials depended on teamwork. Lilia's was truly solvable ONLY by Lilia.

Anyways, Lilia mentally adopted Agatha and realised she truly was part of her coven and therefore worth dying for and I will never fucking recover 💔💔😭😭

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 5 – The One About the Distorted Phone Screen that Sent Half the Fandom into the Ocean

I had no intention of writing about last week’s phone screen debacle, mainly because I found it obnoxious and a smidge infuriating. Not because I believed Jake to be on the phone screen but because people were SO QUICK TO BELIEVE it was Jake on the phone screen.

Honestly, I didn’t even need to see the “cleaned up” version of the picture because I would have sworn then – and would still swear now – it was Luke on the screen. White guy, dark hair, left hand touching his face (or, as it’s been suggested, removing sunglasses), signaling to me that the person in the photograph was left hand dominant. Add that in with all the information Luke and Nicola have laid out before us over the past three months (and, honestly, probably even before that) and there is no other answer: it’s Luke. The end, right? Nope, not even close. Like I mentioned in yesterday’s blog, we’re not allowed to have nice things.

The image comes from a video of Golda giving Nicola her WOTY award. People started taking screen grabs and dropping it into apps that claimed to clean up blurry images.

*Fun fact – I did this once to the picture of Nicola on the boat in Malta. I used three separate apps, in fact, and each time I got this frightening image of Nicola back. Do you remember the scene in Shrek where he picked up a frog and blew it into a balloon for Fiona? The frog’s eyes protruded out and his face was all puckered. That’s what I got back from these apps – a bulging-eyed monstrosity that looked nothing like Nicola. It was froggin’ weird (my Colin-Dad joke of the day), especially since, in the original image, you couldn’t even see her eyes as she appeared to be looking down at her phone.

Okay, back to what I was blabbing about…

People started adjusting the lighting on the screen grab of Nicola’s phone to extreme levels. And, there were even rumors flying around that people had superimposed Jake’s face on to the image and sent it out into the black abyss that is social media. I think I saw six different versions of the image within the first four hours of it dropping on X.

But, guess what, each time, I still saw Luke. Well, I take that back. One time, I swear I saw Johnny Bailey, which, if that had been true, I would have given Nicola a huge round of applause for being so hilariously catty about it all.

My advice, if you want to see the picture, pull it yourself. Go to YouTube, take a screen grab of it, and figure it out on your own. Do not put it through an app and don’t play with the lighting so much that it distorts the image. You may have noticed that I did not repost any of those images here. That was intentional. Form your own opinion about it.

Now that we have that out of the way – the part about me believing it was Luke on the phone screen and me suggesting you form your own opinion about it – I’ll move on to why I decided to write about this topic today.

It was because Luke did something yesterday that piqued my interest.

It wasn’t anything necessarily out of the ordinary. But, it also kind of was.

Simone Ashley posted to her grid yesterday a series of photographs. There’s nothing special here; she’s a beautiful woman putting her lovely image out into this world. It was the last picture in this slide deck that left me intrigued, though. It’s a picture of Simone – but, at the bottom left of the image, is a damn phone screen. Initially, I was a little confused by the image on the phone screen because it appeared to be Simone’s hands but also not Simone’s hands. What it was, is that the angle of the phone made the angle in which the image was depicted slightly different. Why not crop that phone out of it? Or, use a different image? Okay, whatever. I’m not sure I would have thought much of it – except Luke liked the post.

Why would this activate my little grey cells? Because it’s the first post of Simone’s in over a year that he has liked without Nicola also liking it. All throughout 2024, Luke has only liked the posts also liked by Nicola. Now, Nicola could very easily come back and like this post today or tomorrow or a week from now. She does like Simone’s posts frequently and, by Simone’s own words, Nicola and Simone are close. But, remember what I mentioned the other day. It’s the little changes that make people start giving the side eye. When taken collectively, Simone’s post, Luke’s like on the post, and the recent phone screen debacle seem, well, fucking connected in a damn funny way.

Kinda? Maybe?

I swear, I’m becoming one of those people who now plays Six Degrees to Lukola. What have I become?!

But, hey, let’s keep playing this game because, you have to admit, it IS kind of fun to speculate.

On November 10, Netflix UK dropped a post to its grid captioned “ME AND WHO???? [red heart]” The first slide in the deck is of Colin and Penelope’s wedding kiss – the one where Luke had his eyes open – and there is a red heart drawn between their chests (awe, their hearts). The remaining seven slides also include kissing couples but the red heart is drawn around their heads. The Luke and Nicola (like how I used Luke and Nicola, not Colin and Penelope this time?) picture stands out in this deck. It’s the first slide and the red heart is different than the others. And, what about that caption: “ME AND WHO????” Well, it's definitely NOT Nicola and Jake.

Is it a bit too far down the Delulu Rabbit Hole to believe Netflix would be in on a dig about “Who’s on Nicola’s phone screen?”

Perhaps.

But, remember this is also the same parent company that dropped “Nicola and Luke’s Cutest Moments” on August 28 (via Bridgerton Netflix IG), right smack dab in the middle of the Jake Festival Pap Disaster. Do you remember that? The fandom was bouncing all over the place. New festival pictures of Nicola and Jake had dropped the day before. Shondaland had also dropped a “Friends to Lovers” story that seemed oddly like Luke and Nicola. Melissa Dezarate dropped old Luke and Nicola pictures on her IG stories. Then, on August 28, Bridgerton Netflix dropped its “Cutest Moments,” and Melissa Dezarate shared more Luke and Nicola pictures on her IG stories. The “Cutest Moments,” pretty much entirely on its own (the rest was just extra frosting), turned our day right side up again. I salute you, Netflix.

Are we burrowing deeper into the Rabbit Hole? Meh. Let’s keep going.

Also on November 10, we had Dougie posting a mirror / elevator selfie to his grid with the caption, “I know it’s out of focus don’t tell me that.” Maybe he means something, maybe he doesn’t. Any ways, Jake liked this post. Now, I will admit, in the beginning of this Jake Side Story Extravaganza, I wasn’t keen on Dougie. He seemed aggressive on X – especially after those New York pap pictures dropped – but then I realized that his annoyance might be due to the narratives being spread about Jake, i.e., that he was being “hard launched” with Nicola. Recall that within a few hours of the Jake London Pap Disaster, Dougie posted to his stories an image of Jake looking at his phone with the “Mike/Sully Face Swap” meme superimposed over Jake’s face. If you research what this meme means, you’ll find that it is similar to a face-palm reaction or used for “overly ironic situations that leave you confused and perplexed.” Kind of funny, right? You’re welcome to take Dougie however you please, but over the past few weeks, I’ve become rather fond of him. He seems like a mischievous bloke, which is right up my alley.

I always have this feeling that the USS Lukola is surrounded by people who, after the ship hits a rogue wave, help to steer it back on course. The “people” come in the form of Nicola and Luke; cast, crew and friends; interviewers with their old edited-out snippets; and Netflix & Co. I’m sure I’m failing to name someone.

I shall wrap this post up with a quote from Jonathan Van Ness – who, by the way, is one of the most entertainingly funny and intelligent humans to watch. Earlier this week, JVN posted to his IG stories and Tiktok about “bobs.” With JVN, I never really know if he is being serious with what he puts out there or if we’re expected to read between the lines. Regardless, his comment was impactful to me:

“All this shit is just someone on Tiktok decided this was going to be the new name and tried to make that a trend. And that’s cool and that’s great and I love that. I just don’t want y’all getting confused. You know what I’m saying? This is just another variation of a bob.”

Take that as you please.

[just-jordie-things]

you know you got me in your pocket - okkotsu yuuta

word count: 13k warnings: light swearing.  reader has a cursed technique that has to do with healing but i don’t explain it bc i’m lazy. summary: the path from friends to lovers may take time but it is a simple, true love they share more info: ultimate friends to lovers fic this IS the template a/n: loosely based on this fanart i found on pinterest and also the song always forever by cults bcuz i love that song its so friends to lovers coded ___

[ you and me, always, forever ]

Unlike most cases of friends who harbor crushes for each other but never seemed to figure it out, (y/n) had taken a liking to Yuuta the day they met.  She’d known right away that there was something about him that drew her to him like a magnet, something adorably mysterious, strangely alluring, and completely thrilling.

Seeing him on campus wasn’t a surprise.  Gojo had told her about his recruitment, and upon giving her further detail she’d lovingly told him it was more of a kidnapping.  He’d laughed.  And since then nothing had really changed.  She continued her studies with Shoko in the infirmary, only occasionally seeing the Six Eyes when he needed a new audience to bother, and in fact, she’d almost forgotten the news of a new student her age.

It’s not like there were many instances where she could be reminded.  She didn’t see the other students at Jujutsu Tech often, since they spent their time training to be sorcerers, while her cursed technique was more equipped for the behind the scenes of jujutsu society.  

So when she feels a heavy presence of cursed energy looming through the front gates, the hair on the back of her neck stands up, and she’s unusually drawn out of her studies to scan the area for the source of the prickle traveling down her spine.

If she didn’t know better, she might have just assumed it was just Gojo.  But it only takes a split second for her to identify this as someone else entirely.  She’s not sure if her shiver is due to fear or intrigue, but either way she just has to learn more, doesn’t she? 

And so you could imagine her surprise when she finally catches the sight of the sorcerer carrying all of this cursed energy, dragging along the main path on his way to the main building.  She can’t recall his name right away, but she assumes he’s the new kid that Gojo had told her about a week or so prior.

She’s far enough away that she doesn’t get a good look at him, but she can see enough from where she sits amongst the trees.  He’s not at all what she had been expecting.

He didn’t look like the piece of shit egotistical douchebag that she had assumed he’d be when Gojo had told her about him.

And if she couldn’t feel the cursed energy radiating off of him even from this far away, she might’ve thought he was a non-sorcerer altogether.

His shoulders sagged like gravity was heavier on him than most people.  He moved slowly.  His sneakers scraped along the pavement.  His hands were fiddling with each other anxiously, fingers catching and pulling and twisting over and over.

Perhaps she was letting her curiosity make her naive, but any fear she might have felt when he first entered the courtyard dissipated as she tracked his awkward movements towards the school.  Awkward.  It was the perfect way to describe her first impression of him.

He hadn’t seemed to notice her during her assessment of him.  And this was proven when their paths did properly cross.

It had happened late one evening, shortly after Yuuta’s initial admittance to Jujutsu Tech.  It only took one text from Shoko for her to be out of bed, in her uniform, and on her way to the infirmary.  Apparently, Yuuta was also racing around campus, for whatever reason, and that’s how he (almost literally) ran into her.

“Oh!” 

His greeting was just as awkward as her first impression of him.  She can’t help but laugh a little bit.  He’s clearly flustered, his eyes wide and his mouth not making any proper words, and the large knife in his hand looks severely out of place.

But he must see her look straight at it while he’s trying to figure out how to politely ask who the hell she was because he’s never seen her before- because suddenly he remembers how to speak.

“This isn’t mine!” 

He doesn’t mean to shriek, but he feels like he should explain why he’s running around at night with a knife.  It doesn’t dawn on him at all that she’s used to people casually carrying weapons around, and this little knife isn’t even close to being a concern for her.

Nonetheless, she goes along with it.  She should be rushing to the infirmary, but something keeps her put before him.

“Oh?” She tries not to laugh as she takes in his heavy wince.  “While I find your courage outstanding, I’m not sure this is the place you want to go stealing people’s knives,” She’s only teasing, but it does nothing to relieve the panic on his face.  “You know, cause people around here don’t need knives to kill you,” 

Yuuta swallows, and (y/n) finally gives him a break and shakes her head as she laughs to herself.

He expresses his anxiousness in small shuffles of his feet, and he tries to laugh along but the sound is strained and nervous.  If she knew him better and understood him, she likes to think she’d tell him to lighten up, but that feels like a bold step, so she tries to ease his anxiety with more subtlety.

“You didn’t spook me with that knife,” She clarifies.  “I’d be more scared of all that cursed energy you’ve got, if anything” 

“O-oh” 

“But I’m not,” She tells him, matter-of-factly.

He gives her a look like he’s not sure if he should believe her.  With the way the other students had reacted when they first met, he’s surprised she doesn’t have him in a chokehold right now.  Instead, she stands before him without a defensive stance, and she gives him a small smile.

“But… what are you doing out this late?” She can’t help but have curiosity about what he was doing there in the first place.  “Aren’t you all going out on an assignment first thing in the morning?”

Normally, she didn’t listen much when Gojo rambled on about his teachings.  However yesterday’s lessons with Shoko had been few and far between, so when her old friend stopped by for entertainment, she boredly listened along while he bragged about taking his class on a group outing.  She supposed that little piece of information became useful for small talk now.

“Yeah, well,” Yuuta sighed, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.  “I was supposed to return this earlier, but I forgot, and now I…” 

His words trail off, along with his eyes as he turns to stare at the floor out of embarrassment.

“I got lost” 

“It’s Maki’s, isn’t it?” She asks knowingly, even though she’s not familiar with this knife.

Yuuta nods.

“I’ll show you the way” She says, gesturing for him to follow her, and walking off before he could really comprehend what she was offering.  His sneakers squeak on the linoleum floor as he rushes after her a few seconds delayed.

He takes a minute or two before he finds the courage to say something.

“Thank you,” He settles, peeking over at her from the corner of his eye.  “I’m Yuuta, by the way” 

She turns to give him a beam as she replies, “I know,”

It has a lump forming in his throat, his chest filling with something warm and akin to bashfulness.  He’d never seen her before, and he was certain he would have remembered if they’d met, especially since she was so pretty, but she appeared to be his age too, and he wondered why she hadn’t been around for any classes, or training sessions.

“I’m (y/n)” She introduces herself after a beat passes.  Yuuta wants to say something more, but he doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything at all.

He fidgets with the knife as he follows her through the corridors.  It’s a large building, and the longer they walk, the more he’s grateful he hadn’t gotten more lost than he had.  It takes a few minutes until she finally stops at a door, and slides it open.  Yuuta recognized it as soon as it’s contents were revealed.

Every inch of the walls were filled with weapons.  Racks with blades and staffs of all shapes and sizes, shelves of an assortment of more alternative weapons, he’d been in here when Gojo had given him a speedy tour on his first day.  Although now that he’s not being rushed from room to room, his gaze travels around the small space, taking in every deadly tool here.

“You’ll get used to it” (y/n) speaks, and he’s drawn out of his reverie when she plucks the knife from his hands to put it back in it’s proper place.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to any of this” He mumbles back, eyes caught on a rather daunting gun propped up among other things.

Nunchucks and knives were one thing.  He was pretty sure that was an AK-47.  He’d only ever seen those in movies.

(y/n) chuckles softly, amused by how out of place he seemed.  For a guy with more cursed energy than he knew what to do with, she found it interesting how juvenile he came across.

Not that it was a bad thing.  It was sort of… refreshing, if she thought about it.

“You will,” She assured him kindly.  “It’ll feel weird for a while, but, yaknow.  Eventually everyone settles in, right?” 

He tears his eyes away from the machine gun to see that she’s giving him a small smile, and he doesn’t know her very well, or at all, but he can tell that she’s being genuine.

“I guess”

He doesn’t know what else to say.

“Well, I have to get going to a lesson,” She explains, jerking her thumb back towards the door.  “You good to get back to your dorm? I probably wouldn’t get in trouble if I explained I was just helping the new kid” 

Yuuta nods, the movement awkward, and shaky.

“Yeah, I’m good, I think” He doesn’t sound so sure, but (y/n) assumes the best way for him to learn his way around is to get lost just a little.

“Alright, I’ll see ya around then,” She gives him a wave as she ducks out of the small armory.  “Good luck with your assignment tomorrow!”

Her voice carries as she jogs through the corridors to quickly get to where Shoko was waiting, leaving Yuuta to linger, a bit dumbfounded and bewildered by the whole interaction.

He supposed he’d gotten her name, but he still had no clue who she was.  He’d have to make a better effort to reach out next time their paths crossed.  She was the first person here to give him a semi-warm welcome, after all.

When (y/n) arrived at the infirmary with a brighter-than-usual smile and the remnants of a blush on her cheeks, Shoko eyed her curiously, but didn’t outwardly call her out on the strange demeanor.

[ say you’ll stay, never be severed ]

The next time Yuuta does see (y/n), he’s sitting alone at a picnic table in the courtyard with only the company of his lunch bag.  He sees her walking out of the building with a bag on her shoulder.  She’s clearly on a mission, but he finds himself calling out to her and waving his hand anyways.

He assumes she’ll give him a polite nod and keep heading on her way, but she stops in her tracks to turn his way, waving back, before she’s actually walking over to him.

It’s embarrassing to admit, but Yuuta panics a bit.  He had yet to form any solid enough friendships with the other students in his year, hence the lunching alone out here, and he had a worry that soon she would also see him as a loner and an outsider, and she’d avoid him too.

But as she approaches the wooden table, she gives him a smile so friendly he could never believe it was forced.

“Hey,” Even her voice sounds kind.  “You eating alone?” 

“Uh-” Yuuta glances around as if looking for an excuse, but the bento box in front of him and lack of any other person around is evidence enough.  “Yeah” He replies sheepishly.

Here it comes, Yuuta braces himself, the beginning of her thinking he’s a loner.  He shouldn’t have even held onto that scrap of hope when she’d walked this way, but here he was, holding his breath.

“Want company?”

His head turns back to her, assessing if she really meant it, and seeing that small smile still curled on her lips, he gives her a short nod.

“Yeah,” He answers.  “Yeah, that’d be… nice” 

Her small smile turns into a grin as she sits on the bench across from him, setting her bag on the table.

“How are you settling in?” She asks him kindly, and he gives a weak shrug of his shoulders.

“I guess… as well as I can,” He says honestly, and she nods back in understanding.  He pushes past the urge to sit in silence where he knows he can’t say the wrong thing, and continue talking to her.  She’s nice, he tells himself.  She’s nice, and I want to make friends here.  I want to be happy here.  “I think everyone’s a little afraid of me, to be honest,” He admits.  “Or they’re annoyed with how behind all of them that I am” 

“Maki can be a little stand-offish,” (y/n) thinks aloud.  “And Inumaki is hard to get to know at first.  But he’s a really nice guy once you do get to know him.  Just don’t be nervous when he’s silent.  He’s a goofball,” 

Yuuta takes her advice to heart, hoping that she could give him all the keys to friendship he’d been lacking.  He nods earnestly.

“And so is Panda,” She continued.  “But it’s been awhile since there’s been someone new around here.  That doesn’t really happen for us” 

“Really?” He asks, and she nods.

“Yeah.  Most of these people have known each other since they were young.  Or at least are aware of each other’s clan politics” 

“I see” Yuuta mumbles, feeling yet again like an outsider.  (y/n) can tell this information doesn’t sit well with him.

“I think it’s nice,” She says boldly, and truthfully.  He stares at her like she just said something ridiculous.  “When the only people you get to see every day are people you’ve known your whole life, it can be sorta lonely,” She admits with a small chuckle.  “It’ll be nice to get to know someone new,” 

She leans over the table a bit, setting her elbows down so she can rest her head in her hands.

“If that’s not too forward” She says with a bashful smile.

Yuuta blinks once, twice, before shaking his head with certainty.

“It’s not” He says, fast.

“Good,” (y/n’s) beam brightens.  “Want to have lunch with me again tomorrow?” 

He nods again, his nerves starting to melt away, letting him smile back at her.

“Will you be in class tomorrow?” He asks hopefully.  Maybe now he’ll finally have someone he can sit with, even if he’s still too shy to strike up a conversation, at least he won’t feel so alone all the time.

“Oh,” (y/n’s) lips quickly fall to a frown.  “I’m actually not one of Gojo’s students,” She tells him, and it makes her sad to see him deflate so fast.  “I’m training in the infirmary, with Shoko.  Have you met her?” 

Yuuta shakes his head.

“I don’t think so” 

“Well I’ll introduce you sometime,” She tells him.  “But I don’t have a decent enough cursed technique to be a sorcerer, so I’m studying under her in order to go more into the… background things” She explains.

“I see,” Yuuta tries not to let his disappointment show, so as not to make her feel bad.  He focuses instead on getting to know her better.  “So you’re working in, like, the medical field then?”

(y/n) nods her head from side to side.

“Something like that,” She chuckles.  “It’s mostly watching Shoko use her technique to heal injuries after rougher assignments.  I don’t get to use mine too much, but I’m starting to learn how to heal myself, so that’s a start, I suppose” 

“That’s cool!” 

(y/n’s) eyes blink wide in surprise.

“You can heal yourself?”

“I mean, I healed a papercut once” She laughs bashfully.  In comparison to Shoko’s reverse cursed technique, doing a shoddy job at patching up a small slice on her finger seemed like a joke.  But Yuuta grins like he’s never heard anything more interesting.

“You’re lucky,” He tells her, and she raises a brow at him, wondering if this was all some elaborate prank where he’d wind up laughing in her face at how weak she was compared to everyone else, compared to him.  “That’s a really useful ability.  That’s not background at all.  It’s helpful” 

As she processes the kind words, (y/n) wonders if this is why she’d felt drawn to him when they met a few nights ago.  Underneath the shy exterior Yuuta displayed was nothing but kindness, and warmth.  She could feel it in her cheeks, and in her chest.  Her heart even stuttered a little.

“I mean, I barely have a handle on it,” She admits.  “I don’t think I’ve been all that helpful to anyone” 

“But you’re learning, right?” Yuuta shrugs a shoulder in understanding.  “I guess that’s sorta how I feel, too,” He realized, dropping his gaze to his forgotten lunch as he thought about it.  “I just want to be…”

He trails off, but (y/n) waits with eager anticipation for him to continue his thought.

“Useful”

His voice is quiet, and his expression is unsure as he looks back up at her.  Suddenly feeling like that was far too pathetic of a thing to say to someone that he’d like to become friends with.  But before he can backtrack and supply a better word, like strong or courageous, she’s grinning.

Her face nearly splits in two as her beam stretches from ear to ear, all teeth and twinkling eyes to match.  A small laugh escapes her before she starts to nod passionately.

“That’s exactly how it feels,” She agrees, filling him with relief so strong it’s visible in the way his shoulders relax.  (y/n) notices, but doesn’t say anything.  Something warm and fuzzy nestles in her chest, and she has a good feeling about this new friendship blossoming.

Truth was, (y/n) got along fine with the other students here, but they’d only cross paths on occasion and she couldn’t say that she was necessarily close to any of them, simply on good terms enough to catch up in brief passing with one another.  The disconnect between her studies and the rest of the sorcerers-in-training around here was a trench of a gap, and if she was honest with herself, it could prove to be a little lonely.

Shoko was a great teacher, she was kind and involved, but she was still a teacher.  Gojo was… about the same, with just a bit more peskiness to him when it came to involving himself.  But it was all in good nature, he knew that she was a bit isolated here.

But then Yuuta came along.  And even just this short interaction had her glowing with excitement at finally forming a connection with someone.  He probably thought she was just being pleasant since he was the new kid and he’d been eating lunch alone, but it couldn’t be further from the truth.  She had a genuine interest in him that had started innocently enough, but she had a feeling it would only blossom into something more.

“I think that we’re going to be-” 

She’s about to voice this thought, about to tell him that she knows in her heart that they’ll make excellent friends, but her timing was just a tad too slow, and she was interrupted by her phone ringing.

With the intention of silencing it and ignoring the call for now, she gives him an apologetic look before pulling it out of her pocket, only to huff when she realizes it’s not a call she can just silence.

“Sorry,” She frowns.  “It’s Shoko, I should take this, she’s probably got something for me back at the lab” 

“It’s alright,” Yuuta smiles as he shakes his head in understanding.  “I get it” 

“Thanks,” (y/n) grabs her bag as she jumps up from the table, disappointed to cut their time short, but excited to see what Shoko would have in store for her today.  Before she can race off, she pauses, one hand gripping the strap of her bag and the other occupied with the phone that’s still ringing.  “Lunch tomorrow though, right?” She double checks.

The pink that dusts Yuuta’s cheeks is undeniable, and it makes a smile bloom on her face, too.

“Right” He says with a shy nod while he rubs his clammy hands over his knees.

“Alright,” (y/n) nods back, and she’d like to think she’s smooth, but she’s blushing just the same.  “I’ll see you tomorrow then, Okkotsu” 

She takes off before she can see his face turn from pink to red, his enthusiasm for having plans with a friend- a cute friend- shining in the heat of his cheeks.  

He spends the rest of his lunch period trying to think of things to talk to her about tomorrow, questions to ask, stories to share.  He racked his brain for fifteen minutes before going to class, where he then gets a little lost in space as he wonders about it some more.

[ you know you got me in your pocket, you don’t just have to wait around ]

When (y/n) feels that lingering fuzziness in her chest turn into something more, it was shortly after she’d spent the better half of an hour telling Shoko that her friendship with Okkotsu Yuuta was just that.  Friendship.

“If you say so,” The woman shrugged a shoulder as she pulled the gloves off of her hands, getting ready to wrap up the day.  “Just sayin’.  You talk about him a lot” 

(y/n) gave her a look, blindly tossing her own latex gloves into the trash.

“He’s my friend, I like talking about him,” She explains with nonchalance, even though her heart stuttered in her chest a little bit, as it did every time she mentioned him.  “And I’m also a boring person.  There’s not much to talk about”

“That’s not true, but whatever” Shoko brushes off the lame excuse, and (y/n) rejoices inwardly that the topic can be dropped before Yuuta actually shows up in a few minutes.  

Like most days, they had plans to meet up for lunch, except today they’ll be spending it with the rest of the first years.  After a couple of months, Yuuta finally felt like he belonged here, and had made decent friendships with his peers.  This morning he had texted her to ask if it was alright if they joined them.

[yuuta] : panda offered us seats at the lunch table with inumaki and maki too. do you want to have lunch with them? 

[yuuta] : ok if not!! just wanted to extend the invitation !!

It had made (y/n) smile when that second text popped up so quickly on her phone after she’d opened the first right away.  She could practically see him back pedaling just in case she wasn’t comfortable with a larger group for lunch.  Of course she was, she’d typed back an agreement with a little smiley face within a few seconds of reading the texts, but it was sweet that he’d stick to their usual plan of just the two of them.

Don’t get her wrong, (y/n) had grown to really cherish the time the two of them spent together.  She got to know Yuuta very well during their lunch breaks, and during a few hangouts after lessons and training, too.  She was happy to see how much he opened up once you got to know him, and she loved learning more about him every day.  He was kind, and funny in that nervous sort of way, and he picked up on things quickly.  

The couple of times (y/n) had spent her breaks from the infirmary on the bleachers to watch him train with the other first years, she’d seen a drastic change in his abilities with each session.  It wasn’t often that she was able to slip away long enough to get all the way to the bleachers, watch for a bit while having a snack or catching up on some reading, and then get back to the infirmary before Shoko called her out on trying to ditch her lessons.  Still, she was always impressed with how fast of a learner Yuuta was.  Whether it was with cursed energy or with a bamboo staff to practice wielding a proper katana, he seemed to be comfortable with learning how to fight.

In fact the last time she’d watched him, he looked so natural she could have assumed he’d grown up in jujutsu society just like the rest of them.

When he does make an appearance at the infirmary, Shoko notices him outside the door first.  With a smirk, she nods her head to get (y/n’s) attention.

“Your friend is here,” She says with a teasing lilt in her voice, despite her face remaining as stoic as usual.  

(y/n) gives her a look before turning around to see him waiting politely outside.  When their eyes catch, she gives him a smile and waves at him to come in.

“Picking you up for lunch, hm?” Shoko hums.  “What a little gentleman”

(y/n) shoots her another look, this time as if to say be nice when Yuuta walks in.  He’s still wearing his sheath, but the awkward smile and nervous fiddling of his hands makes a sword on his back look out of place.  For some reason, (y/n) has always found his simple juxtapositions adorable.

Despite having met Shoko before, a few times, actually, Yuuta always gets anxious around her.  It was probably her quietly peculiar aura, something (y/n) had grown used to after so much time spent with her, but in comparison to Yuuta’s teacher who’d never learned to revel in peaceful silence, it could be intimidating.

He gave her a small wave and nod in greeting.  Shoko smirked back at him before turning to (y/n).

“You two get back before too long, alright? No funny business” 

Yuuta visibly paled, his mouth opening to make an explanation that wasn’t coming to mind and left him standing there gaping.  (y/n) rolled her eyes as she grabbed her bag, hoisting the strap over her shoulder as she waved Shoko off.

“Bye Shoko” She said with a half-playful glare, before grabbing Yuuta by the sleeve and dragging him right back out the door before he even got the chance to say hello.

It’s not until they’re out in the hall that he finds his voice.

He tugs at his collar to relieve some of the heat from his neck.

“How were lessons today?” He settles for the safe topic of conversation.  Predictably, (y/n) lets out a small laugh.  She always seemed amused when he was uncomfortable.  He had yet to understand why.

“Good,” She’s kind to him today, not teasing him for his flustering.  At least not beyond that little smirk that makes her eyes glint when she looks at him.  “You?”

He nods his head from side to side.

“Maki kicked my ass,” He said sheepishly.  “But I did get a hit today” He said in a quieter voice, but there was still a hint of pride in his voice.  (y/n) beamed at him.  She understood this was a meaningful accomplishment.

“That’s awesome!” She cheered for him.  “You’ll knock her down next time for sure,” 

He thinks she could be messing with him, but when he looks over at her, her beam is nothing but genuine.  He laughs quietly, not as sure as she was, but appreciative of the sentiment nonetheless.

“Just make sure to invite me next time you spar,” (y/n) continues.  “I want to be there for the big day” 

Sometimes, she has a way of speaking that makes Yuuta wonder why she doesn’t really hang out with anyone but him.  She wasn’t exactly a soft person, he supposed it was this line of work they shared, but there was something inherently friendly about her.  He’d noticed it the first time they’d met, of course, and ever since he couldn’t ignore it if he tried.  For whatever reason, she seemed not only to care about him, but she actually believed in him, too.  More and more, Yuuta began to wonder why.

Inumaki, Panda, and Maki are already at a table with their lunches before them when Yuuta and (y/n) arrive.  Panda notices them first, grinning and waving a paw for them to join.

“(y/n)! Long time no see!” His voice holds pure joy upon her arrival, “How’s the infirmary?” 

“Oh, you know,” (y/n) smiles as she shrugs her shoulders.  “Blood.  Bones.  Repeat.  I can’t complain” 

Panda and Toge are sitting on one side of the table, Maki on the other, and (y/n) happily sits beside her.  Yuuta follows shortly.

“Yuuta told me next time, he’s going to knock your ass out,” She says boldly.  Maki raises a brow, her chopsticks stilling over her dish.  “You’ll let me come watch, yeah?” 

Maki’s eyes shift to Yuuta, a glare behind them that has him straightening in his seat.  Maki smirks at his discomfort, and when she turns back to (y/n), she grins ear to ear.

“I do love an audience,” She agrees, her smirk stretching into a grin at the idea.  She looks back to Yuuta, who’s focused intently on his rice.  “You two have been gettin’ real chummy, huh?”

(y/n) simpered at the comment.  Yuuta tucked his chin against his collar in hopes that they wouldn’t notice the way his face bloomed with heat.

“Tuna, tuna” Inuamki giggles as his elbow bumps into Panda’s arm, and he too begins to chuckle as they watch the pair’s reactions to Maki’s simple observation.

“(y/n’s)- uh- she’s-” 

“Yuuta’s a great friend” (y/n) speaks before Yuuta’s stammering can be laughed at any further.

“Must be, to make you finally come hang out with us” Panda says as he tries to quell his amused chuckling.

“Ikura” Toge mutters.

“Yeah,” Panda nods in agreement with the cursed speech user.  “We didn’t think you liked us anymore” 

Yuuta peeks over at (y/n) in his peripheral vision, but she plasters on a smile and shakes her head to disagree.

“Been busy” She says simply.  There is no follow up, no explanation or excuse.  She pops a grape into her mouth and leaves it at that.

Their lunch continues on as expected.  Catching up, teasing, swapping food.  Thirty minutes seem to pass faster than ever.  And despite enjoying himself amongst his friends, Yuuta can’t help but hyperfixate on that small, odd interaction.

It appeared as though (y/n) and the other first years had gotten along just fine.  Even mirroring old friends.  But he couldn’t help but feel like something was off, that things hadn’t always been this way, that there was a rift he hadn’t been present for.  He knows better than to question it straight away, so he matches energy and remains friendly the rest of the break.

But after telling his classmates he’ll meet up with them shortly, he lingers at the table while (y/n) packs up her things.

“That was nice” His voice feels stiff.  He clears his throat.

(y/n) looks up at him as she pulls the strap of her bag over her shoulder, a soft smile curling on her lips.

“It was” She affirms.

Yuuta shifts his weight from foot to foot as he tries to find the right thing to say next.  (y/n) watches this, and waits, patiently, for him to continue.

“I mean I… I like having lunch just… us,” He says, slowly, afraid of sounding too forward and insinuating something that could be off putting to her.  “But I’m glad you wanted to hang out with…” 

He struggled to find the right thing to say.  (y/n) tilted her head at him curiously, before providing the words for him.

“Your friends?” She suggests with a small smile.

Yuuta blinks, color spreading over his cheeks before his smile mirrors hers, and then he nods.

“Yeah,” He concurred.  

It must have been a rush of courage that compelled him to say what he did next, because as soon as he said it out loud, blood rushed up his neck and into his cheeks.

“You’re a great friend, too, by the way.  I’m glad you were here.  Or, well, are here”

She laughs, not because what he was was funny, but because she was overcome by delight by his words that she simply couldn’t contain it.  Her fingers curl tightly around her bag, her heart flutters with something sickeningly sweet in her chest.

This was that something more.  This wasn’t just silly eagerness towards a new friend.  This much more.  It was heavy.  It filled her heart until it burst and flooded her body with warmth, traveling down her spine in ticklish sparks, and ending in the tips of her fingers and toes.  It almost felt like cursed energy, the way it buzzed through her excitedly, on it’s own accord, but she knew better.

This was infatuation.  She was infatuated with Yuuta.  She had feelings for Yuuta.

“I’m glad you’re here, too, Yuuta,” She speaks with every genuine bone in her body, now reinforced with that tingling feeling that has her soft smile turning into a full blown grin.  “Really glad” She repeats softly.

He should feel embarrassed because he knows he’s blushing and he’s having a hard time holding eye contact with her, but for some reason, he doesn’t feel embarrassed at all.  Instead he smiles, bright and beautiful.

“I- I have to-” 

“You have class,” (y/n) laughs bashfully, turning away in an attempt to calm her warm cheeks and dopey grin.  “You should go before you’re late- I- I should go before I’m late” She stammers over her words, which is unlike her and more like him.

“Right, yeah,” He nods in a jerky motion as he starts to turn to leave, realizing he was going to have to run now if he wanted to make it on time.  “But I’ll- I’ll see you after? Maybe? Or do you have plans already we can just wait till tomor-” 

“After lessons works” (y/n) agrees.

“Okay- okay, yeah,” He’s still beaming, giddy with excitement now.  “After lessons” He repeats.

(y/n) giggles as she begins to make her way back towards the infirmary, in the opposite direction as him.  She gives him a small wave as she takes off, and Yuuta’s stunned in place for a moment before realizing that his tardiness was going to get him into trouble.

When (y/n) bursts through the infirmary doors with a string of excuses and pink cheeks, Shoko doesn’t say a word.  Not that she has to, her face says it all.

Yuuta is not spared in the same way.  When Gojo asks where he’s been, Panda is happy to supply what- or who- had kept him occupied.  He was teased relentlessly for the following fifteen minutes, but it didn’t bother him too much.  Sure, he was a little awkward at handling it and brushing off their assumptions.  He just hoped his classmates wouldn’t meddle and tell her about it later.

[ just come here and we can settle down ]

If Yuuta ever underestimated anything in his life, it was Gojo Satoru’s joy in meddling.

It’s a few weeks after the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.  Jujutsu High is still under reconstruction, but it’s getting somewhere.  The gardens are being replanted, the courtyard isn’t just a pile of rubbish anymore, and slowly but surely, everyone is healing.

Especially thanks to (y/n), who had mastered her cursed technique.  Just in time too, as there were a lot of people that needed help.

Maki was finally recovering after pushing herself through physical therapy at a rate faster than (y/n) had ever seen in anyone before.  She was more amazed than surprised.  She would never underestimate that young woman’s abilities.

Toge was just starting to use his voice again, despite all of his friends telling him to just keep his mouth shut even if he was speaking in onigiri ingredients.  His sore throat still made his words sound choked and raspy, but he communicated with his friends nonetheless.

There were many other sorcerers that had gotten hurt that night, but just as her friends had, they were recovering, physically and mentally, from that horrible night.

Today the sun was shining.  It was still a chilly January day, but something about the clear skies drew (y/n) to linger on the steps of the main building.  She studied them beneath her boots.  Now that they were clear of snow, it looked as though a different color of stone was selected for their redesign.  Not too different, it was still a light brown, almost like sand, but different enough that the longer she stared at them, the more she could pick out the other differences between these and the old ones.  

“Ditching lessons?” 

Her eyes drag slowly away from the stone steps to see Gojo Satoru scaling them towards her.  His long legs had him next to her in a matter of seconds.  Truthfully, Shoko had said she needed a longer smoke break than usual today- which was only unusual because ever since christmas, she’d been taking longer smoke breaks, she’d only just mentioned it today.

“Not really.  Maybe” (y/n) replied indecisively.

“I’m still a teacher you know,” Gojo laughs at her honesty.  “I could get you in trouble~” 

The grin on his face tells her that there was absolutely no bite to his bark.  He just liked to pretend to be an adult sometimes.  (y/n) gives him a half hearted smile in amusement.  His grin weakens at the way hers drops as soon as she stares down at the stairs again.

He already knows what’s on her mind.  He was a better teacher than even he gave himself credit for.

“So he told you about Africa, huh?” 

Her head shoots back up, brows furrowed in a sad expression as she frowns at him.  

Yeah, he told me about Africa, she thinks, bitterly, even the thought making her mouth go sour.  She gnaws at the inside of her cheek roughly.

“I know you’re close.  I’m sorry that it’s happening,” Gojo sighs.  He stuffs his hands into his pockets.  “Kid’s got real potential.  He might even be stronger than me,” 

Just like his grin, his smirk speaks volumes.  (y/n’s) not sure if he really believes that, but she can tell he believes in Yuuta.

“Special Grade Sorcerers aren’t what they used to be, huh?” He asks, and she’s not sure if it’s rhetorical, so she just shrugs her shoulders, and directs her gaze downwards again.

Her throat burns.  Was that tears? 

“It won’t just be Africa,” Gojo says, slowly, like he’s trying to be careful.  She’s never known him to tread lightly.  He must really worry about her feelings.  She wonders why.  “Once he’s mastered his techniques, the geezers are gonna throw him at every curse they can sniff out” 

“I know” 

Her voice is small, but it holds enough certainty for Gojo to understand that she doesn’t need to be told what Yuuta’s future has in store.

“So,” Gojo takes a different tone as he kicks the toe of his shoe into a step.  “You’re not bothered that he’s a young widow, hm?” 

(y/n’s) face contorts into something strange and confused as she looks at him again.  She could almost laugh, if she wasn’t so disturbed by her teacher prying into her personal life.  She could tell him to buzz off, but it’d make no difference.  He’d probably just pester Shoko for the details and that would be even more embarrassing.

“I don’t even know what to-” 

“He cares about you a lot too,” Gojo says before she can finish.  (y/n’s) features relax as her eyes widen a little.  He looks out into the courtyard as if something interesting was happening over there.  “But Africa will be good for him.  And he’ll be back soon enough.  I’ll try ‘n pull some strings to have him visit, or something” 

Her impulse to say something snarky and get him to move on from the topic disappears.  Instead, she gives him a small nod, before tucking her cold fingers into the pockets of her coat.

“That would be nice,” She tells him, quietly, but surely.  “Thank you” 

Gojo grins from ear to ear as he turns back to his.  She has a feeling that under the white bandages, he’s winking dramatically.

He leaves without another word, leaving (y/n) a little bewildered by the sudden exit.  But then she sees another figure ascending the steps, and suddenly the cold isn’t the only thing making her cheeks pink.

Yuuta gives her the same smile he always does when he crosses her path.  Whether in passing or when he’s meeting up with her to hang out, his lips curl into the warmest smile she’s ever seen.  Even as clouds creep across the sky and snow begins to fall, she starts to feel toasty in her hat and coat.

She lies and tells him she has a few minutes to spare even though she’s been gone from the infirmary for a good twenty minutes now.  As they take a short walk around campus, her mood lightens up.  

They don’t talk about Africa.  Only good things.  A funny meme she’d seen, how Toge will be by the infirmary later because he refuses to keep his mouth shut to heal properly.  Maybe that wasn’t so much of a good thing, but Yuuta is laughing as he tells her about the pile of bloodied tissues accumulated at Toge’s desk.  Despite the twinge of guilt for laughing at their friend’s discomfort, she can’t help it.  Yuuta’s happiness is infectious.

This must be what swooning feels like, she thinks as she stares up at him while he tells her about his day.  It’s a silly story, maybe even kind of boring, but she hangs onto every word with eager anticipation at what he would share next.  He could read her the goddamn newspaper and she’d sit there with her head in her hands and give him her undivided attention.  Yeah, this is probably swooning.

“When do you have to be back?” Yuuta cuts off his rambling about training when he realizes they’ve been walking for some time now.

“Oh,” (y/n) shrugs sheepishly.  “Probably ten minutes ago” 

His eyes widen and he stops in his tracks, and before he even speaks she knows he’s about to apologize for taking up her time, so with a small laugh she shakes her head at him before he says a thing.

“Don’t worry about it,” She says, urging him to keep walking with her.  “Shoko needed some extra time today.  I don’t mind if I’m a little late” 

“You’re sure?” He double checks, because he doesn’t like being responsible for getting her behind schedule.  Nonetheless, he catches up to her as she keeps walking along the path.

Little does he know, if he asked her to ditch the rest of the day with him, she would take him by the hand and sprint off campus.

“Positive” (y/n) replies.

They continue to walk in the snow and talk about anything but Africa.  An unspoken agreement that it could wait.

[ oh darling, it’s alarming, to think of us apart ]

Eventually, they have to talk about Africa.

It comes up the morning Yuuta leaves. 

It’s early enough in the morning that it’s still dark.  Panda had helped him load his bags into Ijichi’s car, before giving him a quick goodbye so he could go back to bed.  Maki and Toge lingered a little longer, even in their pajamas.  But at some point Maki cursed about how early it was, gave her new friend a friendly- but not light- punch to the shoulder, and returned inside.

Toge and (y/n) were equally quiet, although for their different reasons.  Eventually Yuuta couldn’t fill the silence anymore, and they were out of time to stall.

To his surprise, Toge gave him a quick hug.  Just enough to give him a kind pat on the back and an eager ‘salmon!’ certainly wishing him luck on his big assignment.  Yuuta thanked him with a grin, proud to understand what he really meant.

Then he turned to (y/n), who’d barely moved an inch since sleepily walking out here.  He’d insisted to everyone last night that they could say their goodbyes then, but she’d stood her ground that she’d see him off today.  The others agreed.

Her arms were wrapped firmly around herself, and the smile on her face was sad when his eyes met hers.  Even when she tried to brighten up, to properly display her pride in him, she just couldn’t quite do it.

Toge watched as they stared at each other for a moment, neither one of them finding anything to say.  For a minute he thought it might be awkward, and he figured he should probably leave now.  

It only took Yuuta one step forward, his arms barely outstretched, before (y/n’s) finding the energy to leap towards him, crashing into him.  Her arms are thrown around his neck as she hugs him tightly.  As she tucks her chin against his shoulder she’s willing herself not to cry, because she knows it would make him feel bad, and that wouldn’t be fair.  Yuuta’s surprise has him hesitating for a second before he’s hugging her back, hoping to hold on just as securely as she’d latched onto him.

“Text a lot,” When she’s certain her voice won’t crack, (y/n) finally speaks.  “And call, too” 

Yuuta chuckles.  His eyes close as he rests his cheek against her head.  She’s never hugged him before, but he’s decided from this one that she’s the best hugger in the world.

“The time difference is-” 

“I don’t care” She mutters, and it’s punctuated with her arms squeezing around him a little tighter.

He returns the affection.

“Okay” He murmurs.

When they have to part, she lets out a shaky breath, and plasters on the widest smile she can.  She hopes he can see the tears in her eyes.  He does.

He gives her and Toge a wave before finally opening the door to the backseat.  He doesn’t say goodbye.  Instead he settles for, “See you later” 

(y/n) manages a little wave back.  It’s not until the car pulls away and is out of sight before a tear falls.  She’s quick to wipe it away.

Her and the cursed speech user walk back towards the main building together.  He gives her a sympathetic look.  She gives him a weak smile.

“Yeah, I know,” She sighs, drying her eyes once more and taking a deep breath in the hopes of not crying again.

He smiles back, but unlike hers, it’s bright, and cheeky.  He draws a heart in the air with his fingers.  She wants to roll her eyes, but she lets out a watery laugh at the action, and she knows her face is heating up with evidence of the truth.

“Something like that” She mumbles.  They don’t say anything else before parting ways to go back to their rooms.

By the time she collapses back in bed, she’s too awake to think about sleeping a little longer before her lesson with Shoko.  Pulling out her phone for a source of entertainment, she finds she already has a notification at this ungodly hour.

[yuuta] : try not to miss me too much :) i’ll be back before you know it

Tucking the blankets up to her chin, (y/n) settles into bed with a small smile.  Yuuta wasn’t often cheeky.  And when he was, it was always followed by a nervous laugh and bright pink cheeks.  Behind the shield of his phone he clearly has a leap in confidence.  She even laughs a little as she types back her response.

[ you and me, always, forever ]

Yuuta had some mixed feelings about going to Africa.

On the one hand, he was ecstatic.  He had finally climbed the ranks in this new life that he thinks could make everything make sense.  He felt a new sense of responsibility along with his new sense of self, and he knows that this debut of his in Africa was the next big step forwards.  He’d prove himself, he’d push himself, and he’d come home stronger than before.  He’d make his friends, and his teachers, proud of taking a chance on him.

On the other hand, his new purpose, this new sense of self that he was still discovering, felt so much more worth exploring when she was there too.  Yuuta wasn’t as naive as some may make him out to be.  He knew what love felt like.  He recognized that the ticklish feeling in his chest when she laughed, he was familiar with the buzz in his fingertips when she walked too close and her hand brushed over his.  He knows when he’s lying awake at night and she’s the one who crosses his mind that it’s no coincidence.

Yuuta knows that his heart holds much more than platonic regards for one (y/n) (y/l/n).  He knows that he adores her.  He knows that his heart longs for her in a way that couldn’t possibly be platonic.  The fact that they’ll have to be apart for some time makes him sad.  It makes him lonely.

Even now, after seeing her twenty minutes ago when they said their goodbyes, he already missed her.  He couldn’t help but text her right away, the desperation for keeping in contact pumping through him like ice, making him feel wide awake even at five in the morning.  The thought of losing touch over the next few months of him being away makes him sweat.  

He’d have to make sure to keep in touch, he makes a mental plan to always text her first thing in the morning, and last thing before he goes to sleep.  That way, even if he got busy throughout his day, he’d always have the time for her.  He wanted her to know that he’d always make the time for her.

Yuuta’s heart is racing, the adrenaline a toxic mix of excitement and anxiety.  Had he eaten a proper meal this morning he might’ve thrown up.

Just as he’s contemplating rolling down the window for some fresh air, his phone pings.

[(y/n/n)]: i take it you miss me already, yuuta?

It’s a silly little emoji, but he swears she’s sent him her heart in digital form and it leaps right from the screen and into his open palms.  He's smiling at the screen and responding with a reaction image he’d snagged from Toge just a few days ago.

[ you and me, always, forever ]

Gojo follows through on his promise.  Yuuta comes back to Jujutsu Tech for a small break after two months in Africa.

He gets to campus earlier than expected, surprising his classmates in the middle of a lesson.  Luckily today the lesson was rating the different flavors of kikufuku from a new shop Gojo had found, so he hadn’t interrupted anything too pressing.

It’s shortly after his early arrival that he asks the question that his friends think they should have placed money on him asking.  Maki mutters something to Toge about how she would’ve won had they done so.

“Where’s (y/n)?” 

While he stares at them with a dumbfounded expression, his friends laugh.  Loud cackling that’s intended to make him feel embarrassed, but he’s more confused than anything.  Even Gojo joins in once he’s not distracted by his leftover treats and Panda merrily tells their teacher that Yuuta’s already sick of them.

“That’s not it!” The poor boy puts his hands up in mock defense as he jumps to explain himself.  “I just want to tell her I’m back-” 

“She’s in the infirmary, genius” Maki crosses her arms, but her displeased attitude crumbles when a smirk tugs on her lips.  Yuuta forces a smile, but it’s awkward.  His nervous energy begins to shine through his excitement about returning home.

It’s not long after this that he’s delivering a string of excuses before darting out of the classroom and running to the infirmary.  Was it a little embarrassing to race towards her like this? Yeah, but there was barely anyone on campus right now anyways, so no one had to know just how eager he was to see her again.

Even though every bone in his body was practically vibrating by the time he made it there.

He peers through the small windows on the heavy doors outside the hospital classroom, making sure it was safe to enter before he barged in.  As soon as he looks inside he sees Shoko leaning against the cabinets.  (y/n) was standing in front of her, her back to the door, but she was easily recognizable to him.  Before he can knock to make himself known, Shoko catches him in her line of sight, and gives him an uncharacteristically wide grin.

In fact it’s so unusual on her face, that (y/n) perks up in the midst of whatever conversation they were having, curious to see what could've caught her interest so much.

Okkotsu Yuuta was not at all what she might have expected.

He gets to watch her light up in real time.  He hears her excitedly squealing from the other side of the door.  And somehow, even though it’s been a whole two months since he’s seen her, the ten seconds it takes for her to fly through the doors and into his arms seems to take too long.

She crashes into him so hard he stumbles to balance his footing.  She’s laughing and bouncing and rambling on, ‘I’m so happy you’re here! You’re early! I would’ve helped you with your things! Have you settled in? Have you eaten? Should we go get some food? I’ll order food! And we can stay in!’ She’s talking so fast that he catches about half of what she’s saying.  He only chuckles, not having the heart to tell her he can barely understand her.

Her arms squeeze tight around his neck before she finally lets him go.  With twinkling eyes and a smile so wide it must be sore on her cheeks, Yuuta’s slowly melting heart completely dissolves.

“Your hair’s different” She tilts her head at him while she admires the way his slightly longer hair is styled around his face.  She lets her curiosity get the best of her, reaching a hand out to gently push a strand away from his forehead.  

Yuuta hadn’t really given any thought to his hair.  He can’t remember when exactly it had gotten too long, when he’d parted it differently so it wasn’t a hindrance, but now he’s second guessing the change in style as if that change had been a conscious choice.

“Bad different?” 

There’s a small giggle in the back of her throat that she can’t help when his brows furrow at her.  He’s so cute, she thinks her heart could melt right here.

She shakes her head at him in a small motion.

“No,” She assured him.  “Good different” 

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, a proud little smile, like he’d gotten her to admit her deepest, most well kept secret.

“Good different?” He repeats, his voice dripping with mirth.

She rolls her eyes and crinkles her nose, but there’s no hiding the warmth in her cheeks and the way her dimples show when she smiles, even when she ducks her head from him.

“Shut up, Yuuta,” She pushes his shoulder but just as quickly grabs him by the elbow.  “Now come on! The day’s almost over already and we have so much we need to catch up on!” 

She forgets her bag in the infirmary as they wander campus together for a while, making pitstops to get him unpacked for his short visit and to snack up before they make their simple plans for the evening.  Conversation never ceases, even when she’s trying to place a takeout order over the phone, she finds herself remembering various little stories and jokes that she’d tucked away in her memory to share with him.  

There’s been a change in him.  It wasn’t just the training that treated him well with lean muscle, it wasn’t just the haircut, or the way he’d learned to wield his katana like it was an extension of him.  It was confidence.  It was happiness.  He didn’t stutter over his words nearly as often.  When he spoke he was sure of the things he said.  He would still blush when she got close enough or whispered something exceptionally sweet to him, but he was better at holding eye contact, and grew quite comfortable with reciprocating the small affections.  Maybe that was just it, he was finally comfortable here, and with himself.

Time flies faster than it had when they were apart.  The afternoon turns to evening which turns to the middle of the night.  They’re still sitting on the common room couch, side by side, lost in their own little world as a forgotten movie plays in the background.  Some of it had been watched when they’d eaten, but the takeout boxes on the coffee table are empty now.  Yuuta’s yawning and (y/n’s) eyelids are heavy as she tries to keep her attention on him while he tells a story, his voice getting lower and his words coming out slower the later it gets.  It’s not until he’s slumping into the uncomfortable cushions of the old couch that they even think to check the time.

When they do decide they’ve been up for too long, they make their way sneakily back to their rooms, hoping to remain as silent as possible.  But anyone who was up at this hour would hear their hushed laughter and aggressive shushing.  Yuuta bids her goodnight with the promise of taking everyone out for breakfast in the morning, but before he drops her off at her door, they share one more embrace.

She means to keep it quick, she really does.  She knows he’s tired, and maybe a little annoyed with all of the affection today, but she was so happy to have him back that she couldn’t help but want to keep him close forever.

Yuuta doesn’t seem annoyed in the slightest.  He hugs her back tightly, and makes no move to let her go anytime soon, so she doesn’t, either.  They stand that way at her door for an unknown amount of time, each waiting for the other to pull away first.

It takes some time, but eventually she shuffles out of his hold and gives him a bashful little smile followed by, “I’m really glad you’re home, Yuuta” 

The tension lays itself on thick, making sure to smother Yuuta until the back of his neck feels hot and his heart beats so hard in his chest he’s certain she’s going to notice and tease him for it.

“Me too” He manages to murmur back.  

He’s lucky he’s able to return her sweet ‘goodnight!’ too, because his throat is tightening on itself and he thinks he could start choking just standing there.

When he drags himself back to his own room and his heart calms down- just a little bit- Yuuta decides he’s going to have to do something about that tension before it kills him.

[ you and me, always, forever ]

“This is getting ridiculous,” Maki declares before kicking open the classroom door.  Her two friends follow in behind her.  “It’s actually going to make me sick.  I think we should just say something already” 

“Don’t kick doors down Maki” Panda sighs, but his warning goes ignored.

“Salmon,” Toge shrugs his shoulders, raising his hands to be palms up, as though indicating what else is there to do?

“Well for starters, we get the idiots to talk to each other,” Maki states, picking up the notebook off her usual desk.  

It was the whole reason they came back to class so late in the day, seeing as this particular notebook had the notes from their lesson earlier.  It was important she made the trip back for it before they started their study session.  She did take the better notes of the three of them.

“Apparently all their time together isn’t getting anywhere,” She huffs.  “I swear, all he does is talk about her.  He’s bound to have something good enough to confess already, right?” 

Toge giggles into his collar.

“Ease up a bit, they’ll come around to it when they’re ready, won’t they?” Panda tries to be the voice of reason.  

There’s a pause for silence.  And then Toge and Maki are cackling so hard they have to hold their stomachs to relieve the twisting knots of their muscles.

“It’s been months!” Maki hollers through her mania.

“Salmon!” 

“I mean, how much more of this can you guys take?” She doesn’t give them the time to answer her question.  “I can’t stand listening to him ramble on and on about her.  Did you know the one phone call I got, he talked about her the whole time?” 

“You’ve mentioned” Panda mumbles, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.

“Tuna tuna” Toge agreed, before making a crude motion with his hands that had Maki bursting into laughter again.

Maki rolls her eyes, before grabbing her missing notebook from her desk and stuffing it into her backpack.  She’d been holding back on intervening on these two for months now.  At first, she didn’t care enough.  If (y/n) and Yuuta wanted to dance around each other like children with crushes then that was their business.  But now the romantic tension was so thick it choked her up to be in a room with them.  The lingering stares, the flirty giggles, the blushing- gah- she couldn’t stand it.

Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t hate love, and she didn’t hate either of them for being in love.  She hated wimps.  And these two were being the wimpiest people she’s ever seen for not fessing up already.

Also, wasn’t she just being a good friend for getting two dumbasses in love to admit they’re in love with each other? She did want them to be together after all, they were good for each other.

“I think it’s sweet that he loves her so much!” Panda argues.  “I don’t mind listening to it.  (y/n’s) really nice.  They deserve each other” 

“Oh, yeah, they deserve each other,” Maki agrees but her tone drips with something hostile.  “No shit, do you not see how much she stares at him?” 

Toge’s snickering gets louder.  It wasn’t often there was gossip among the small group, there wasn’t exactly time for it.  But this was rather entertaining, and watching two of his friends trip over themselves with how hard they’d been crushing on each other had been the cherry on top.

“Well, yeah,” Panda finally lets out a small laugh.  “Actually, the other day I was talking to her, and I don’t think she heard a word I said,” He chuckles as he recalls the way her eyes glazed over and a dopey little smile took over her face.  “I don’t know how he hasn’t noticed it” 

“Salmon” Toge scoffs.

“Yeah, he’s more oblivious than she is” Maki agrees.

“But I don’t think we should do anything about it” Panda tries to reason.

“They’re never going to make a move if we don’t say something,” Maki huffs.  “Can’t they just get it over with already? How hard is a confession anyways?” 

“Like you’ve ever confessed to anyone” Panda throws back at her with a proud grin.

Toge makes a sound of delight to see the gossiping turning into something much more interesting.

Maki glares at the both of them before snarling.

“That’s it!” She declares, throwing her bag over her shoulder.  “I’m going to go tell them right now.  Whoever I find first is going to hear great news today!” 

“Maki don’t!” Panda hollers, marching after her out the door.  “It’s not our place! That’s an invasion of privacy!” 

Toge’s enthusiastic babbling of rice ball ingredients follows them out into the hall, eager to see where this was going to go.

The classroom door slides shut behind him, and the sounds of their heavy, quick footsteps drones on until they’re too far to be heard.  It’s not until the room is completely silent that a small exhale of relief is heard, under the large desk that Gojo pretended to use during his lessons.

“I think we’re in the clear” Yuuta whispers, once he’s absolutely certain that no one is left in the room.

He drops his hand from over (y/n’s) mouth, where she’s been gnawing on her bottom lip for the last six minutes in fear that their classmates were going to notice them hiding under there.

“Really?” She asks in a teasing tone of voice.  “Because it sounds like they’re looking for us” 

Yuuta huffs in defeat, a look on his face that completely contrasts her own.  (y/n’s) brightened, grinning from ear to ear and giggling under her breath.  

They’re squished into the small space so when she giggles he can feel her breath fanning over his neck, and even though he wants to grab her by the shoulders and make her come back to reality- which is that their friends are on a rampage right now to get them to confess to each other, something they’d just done minutes before they’d stormed into this very classroom- but he can’t.  He takes one look at her, with her starry eyes and cute smile and he accepts whatever fate has in store for him.

(y/n) had surprised him here, happily announcing she wrapped up her lessons early so that they could spend the afternoon together.  He only had a few days left until he’d be shipped off to Africa again, so she’d worked diligently today to be sure she could give him every spare minute of her free time.  Somehow they’d wound up in the classroom alone.  

One minute Yuuta’s going on about how excited he was to hang out with her and the next thing he knows he’s accidentally letting it slip that he’d like to have her all to himself all the time.  He realized instantly that he’d said something a little too romantically charged because suddenly she’s staring up at him with those damn wide eyes and a smile full of secrets.

He must’ve said something right though, because one thing led to another and she had an iron grip on his collar while her strawberry gloss smeared all over his mouth.

(y/n) smirks now as she reaches her thumb up to his lips now, wiping away a subtle speck of pink glitter that had been left behind there.  Her face heats up as she recalls how carried away she’d gotten just minutes ago.  Until their friends showed up and nearly caught them in the act.  

Had Maki kicked down that door just a minute earlier, they surely would’ve been caught in their scrambling.  More specifically, they would’ve caught the awkward way Yuuta had lifted (y/n) off the desk he’d just set her on, only to hustle them both under the desk, the only half-decent hiding place in this whole room.

“You’re kidding,” She’d mumbled when he drew his knees to his chest and beckoned her to duck under with him.  She crowds into the space, but not without scolding him.  “They’re definitely going to-” He covers her mouth with his large palm, effectively quieting her, just as the door slams open.

Now she knows they should be scrambling out of here, before they were eventually caught- again- but she stays put in the tiny space where their legs are sore and cramped together.

“So you talk about me to all your friends, hm?” She muses, leaning in impossibly closer to give him her best shit eating grin.  It easily has Yuuta blushing from his neck to his ears as he turns his head to relieve himself from the heavy eye contact.

“Yeah yeah,” He mumbles, tugging at his collar in an attempt to soothe the heat.  Just as the embarrassment settles in, he whips his head back to meet her stare with a wild look in his eye that actually catches her off guard.  “But you’ve been staring at me!” He says.

She opens her mouth to defend herself, but the proof had been hollering in this very room just moments ago during Maki’s fit.  Panda had happily supplied the damn evidence.

So she shuts her mouth, and now Yuuta’s beaming at her with victorious pride.  

“So it’s true!?” He asks excitedly.

“You already know that, jerk,” She rolls her eyes at him, but it’s filled with affection.  “You’re the one who’s in love with me!” She says with a jab to his chest.

Yuuta catches her hand with his before she can pull it away, making her pleased little grin fall to something softer.  He’s able to watch in real time as her eyelashes flutter when her glance darts down to his lips, and when she looks up at him again, it’s with color in her cheeks and a sweetness in her gaze that has him turning to putty.

What was meant to be a half-hearted jest based on something Panda had said that she wasn’t exactly meant to hear now hangs in the air between them so heavy it feels like gravity grows in strength.  Her heart is pounding in her chest.  Her hand feels hot in his.  And now she sits with baited breath and wide eyes as she waits for him to say something.

Yuuta’s smiling, his free hand coming up to the nape of her neck, sweeping her hair away before pulling her closer.  She tilts her head towards him, but he stops just before their lips could graze over one another.

“You love me too?” He whispers.

He phrases it like a question, but he already knows it to be true.  He just wants to hear her say it.

Her lips quirk into a sweet smile as her eyes flicker between his, lashes heavy, pupils blown wide in her irises.  She’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and the thought of getting to love her and be loved by her has his heart racing so fast he’s almost forgetting that he’s asked her a question because all he wants is to kiss her.

“Of course I do,” She murmurs, her soft lips ghosting over his, eager to feel them against hers again.  “Think I’ve always loved you, Yuuta,” She adds in a quieter voice.  A carefully protected deep adoration in her heart, now bestowed upon his.  “Think it’s always been you and me” She hums softly, taken away by the warmth in her chest and the butterflies in her tummy.

She could sit here and whisper sweet things to him for hours, maybe even forever.

His thumb strokes under her jaw in a gentle motion, caressing the junction at her jawline and neck.  He looks radiant, smiling down at her like nothing’s ever made him so happy.  This spurs her into wanting to say more sweet things, but before she gets the chance, he’s slanting his lips over hers.

She melts into him in every sense of the word.  Her free hand reaches for his shoulder, before sliding around his neck so she could lean into him further.  The small space they’re still hiding in only shrinks as she tries to get closer to him.  Both pairs of their legs are too long to keep bent under the desk, so she sticks one leg out, accidentally kicking the chair in front of them but she pays it no mind.  She just focuses on getting closer to him, hooking her other leg underneath herself to give her better leverage and a tiny bit more space to scoot closer.

Her hands are on his collar again as soon as he grabs her by the hips.  He gives them a gentle squeeze and she giggles softly into his mouth, breaking their kiss for only a moment.  They share wide smiles and lovesick eyes before leaning into each other again and sealing their lips in a heated and much more passionate kiss.

They don’t think at all about the noise of the chair clattering across the floor or the distinct sound of their giggling as they get swept away with one another.  In fact they completely forget that they’re only in this position because they’d been trying to keep hidden.  Both too consumed with memorizing the feeling of each other’s lips.  

It’s a sweet moment, really, the first time young lovers get to explore the way the other kisses.  Gently, with timid, inexperienced brushes.  Or hungrily, with eager, heated desire.  Taking their time was a luxury they’d thought they could finally afford.

But this time when the door opens it’s with stealth.  It slides in silence, and the steps that creep in are also with slow precision, so as not to make even a creak in the floorboards.

All that can be seen by the three intruders are the three legs jutting out from under the desk.  A familiar pair of Converse and one familiar Mary Jane with a heart shaped buckle kicking gently about on the floorboards, rocking with delight.

The hushed sound of lips smacking only ceased when there was a giggle, one of them or both of them, murmuring between kisses and giggles like a pair of school children.

There’s a few things that are audible, murmurs of ‘I love you so much’ or ‘you’re so pretty’ repeated between them like mantras.  This continues for a minute until one of the three takes a heavier step than he means to with his paw, and the room goes completely silent- save for the lewd ‘smack!’ of a pair of lips seizing upon hearing the tell-tale sign of a lurker.

Maki and Toge glare back at Panda, who sheepishly grins and shrugs his shoulders.

(y/n) and Yuuta stare at each other in horrified shock.  They don’t get the chance to come up with a plan of attack before someone is on top of the desk with a squeak of sneakers.  And then Toge is bending over the surface, staring wide eyes at the two in a rather compromising position- (y/n’s) leg is thrown over Yuuta’s lap and being kept there by a firm hand, her hands are still balled up in his unbuttoned collar, their lips are thoroughly swollen she’s effectively transferred most of her lip gloss onto his mouth, and chin and neck- there’s nothing innocent about them.  Toge stares between them both before he lets out a whistle, giggling as he hops off the desk again.

Yuuta winces as he quickly releases his grip on (y/n’s) leg so they can both scramble out from under the desk and up to their feet.  It’s ungraceful, uncoordinated as they awkwardly untangle to clamber upwards.  Yuuta hits his head on the hard oak loud enough that they both wince, (y/n) quickly inspecting the instant bump that forms at the occiput of his skull.

“No way!” Maki breaks the tension first, her jaw hanging open as she grins in amusement at having caught the two of them here.  “You were hiding out in here the whole time!?”

“Tuna!” Toge shoves his finger in their direction in accusation.

“Kissing!” Panda gasps, his paws over his face.

“Why didn’t you just say something,” Maki huffed.  “Walked around for ten minutes for no reason.  Waste of my time” She grumbles as she crosses her arms.

“Uh, sorry” (y/n) said sheepishly.

“Yeah, sorry,” Yuuta pipes up.  “It was just… uh… awkward” 

“You’re awkward!” Maki barks back with a dismissive wave of her hand.  “Jeez, glad you got it over with finally” She bids them her blessing with rough words before spinning around and leaving the room without saying anything else.

Panda gives them a bright smile and nod of his head, his own friendly way of telling them he was happy for them.

“Hope you’re happy” He tells them out of the kindness of his soul before excusing himself as well.

“Salmon!” Toge agrees with a grin and friendly wave before also leaving.

All the lurking around they’d done, only to give them space as soon as they caught what they needed to.

The remaining pair turned to each other, gaping mouths turning into shy smiles as they slowly burst into laughter together.  What was supposed to be a slow introduction of new feelings to explore had now been on display to pretty much everyone they knew.  Shyness began to wash away as there was no more use for it.  Yuuta reaches for his hand and (y/n’s) fingers intertwined with his as though they’d familiarized themselves there before.  She smiles as he uses her hand to pull her closer to him, until the toes of her shoes barely bump into his.

They don’t say anything, they don’t need to.  (y/n) knows what he means when he cradles her face in his palm and smiles down at her.  He knows what she means when her nose crinkles and her free hand reaches to hold onto his collar once more.  Their ‘i love yous’ had almost always been silent, and they would forever understand it in its unspoken form.

__

this is for @staygoldsquatchling02​ for being excited about my rotting brain full of yuuta fluff a/n: y’all i got soo carried away with this-

xoxo ~ jordie

[withahappyrefrain]

BOB FLOYD CODED

YES IT IS. It's also Bob with a confident woman coded, which I absolutely love.

It was cute how he tried to blend in with the background. His seat may have been in the corner, but his tall broad frame made him stand out. Unlike his friends, he was quiet, occasionally joining in on the conversation, though quite content to just listen and watch.

He was adorable and God, did you want him.

So when his friends got up to go play pool and sing by the piano, you swooped in. His bright blue eyes widened as he took you in, like a deer in headlights.

"H-hello," his voice was deep with a slight rasp to it. You couldn't tell the location of his accent, but it was definitely rural.

Had the Navy not worked out, he could make a killing recording audiobooks.

"Hi handsome," you smiled as you gently pushed a dark blonde curl away from his forehead, "How ya doing?"

"I'm uh, good!" He cleared his throat, trying to maintain some composure, "Just to let you know, the blonde is engaged and like head over heels in love with her. Basically she worships her. The guy playing piano is free, but he's not ready for a relationship, or a one night stand. The girl next to him is open if you're open. If not, you can go for Javy, he's the one who is-"

"Why are you telling me all of this?" You asked, moving so that you were standing in between his legs. The newly close proximity allowed you to take in the scent of his cologne.

"I, uh," he tried scooting backwards, only to hit the wall, "Isn't that why you're here?"

He thought you were here to get information on his friends, not him.

How cute.

You simply shook your head, leaning forward, "I'm here for you handsome. What's your name?"

"B-Bob," his eyes widened again, "Wait, you're here for, for me?"

The idea of being the one a beautiful stranger would go after was foreign to Bob. Usually it was anyone else in his friend group. He was used to being the one that folks would go to in order to get information about someone else. This was a change.

Not that he minded.

In fact, Bob liked it. A lot.

Once the initial shock had worn off, he found himself easily able to strike up a conversation with you. He was so expressive, using his large hands and big eyes to help tell his stories. You found Bob quite knowledgeable, but never cocky. He was born in Montana and raised there until he was ten, when his family moved to California as his dad was part of the Navy, which explained his accent.

Inexperience wasn't his problem. It was just when he was out with his friends, who were stereotypically attracted, Bob tend to got lost in the mix of things.

A true shame, even though it was greatly benefiting you.

"I love your voice," You murmured against his ear, breath hot on his skin.

"You-really?" Bob squeaked, trying not to focus on how soft your skin felt against his, or the sweet scent of your perfume.

You giggled, the noise sweeter than any song Bob had ever heard, "Yeah. Love how deep it is. Could listen to it all day."

"I uh, that's uh, really nice of ya to say," His voice was shaky as your attention to him made Bob remember what was happening. A beautiful stranger went up to talk, wanted to talk to him, wanted to hear him.

On the other hand, you just simply smiled. He was so cute, having no idea what kind of effect he had on you.

Perhaps it was time to let him know.

Your lips trailed down to his neck, the scent of his aftershave absolutely addicting.

The grip he had on your hips increased, fingernails digging into the soft fabric of your shirt.

"Yeah? Could say the same about you darlin." His voice was lower, purposely so, as he cooed in your ear, "Your voice is so pretty, I've been wondering what other noises you can make with it."

So he could play the game after all.

You could too.

Gently, you lifted one left, raising it up and towards his lap. To distract him, you began peppering his jawline with kisses as you continued to direct your lifted knee closer and closer to his crotch.

While Bob's sharp gasp audibly let you know you reached your desired destination, you didn't need the sound to know.

You could feel him.

It's always the quiet ones.

Bob's fingers dug into the soft fabric of your skirt, willing himself to not moan on the stop, trying to remind him how awkward it would be to explain to his parents why he was honorably discharged from the Navy.

So instead, he pulled your hips towards him, practically closing the space between your bodies.

Gone was that sweet, yet unsure smile. In it's place was a confident smirk, that made your thighs clench.

When he stood up from his seat, it was then you realized how tall he truly was. Not that you minded.

"Why don't we go somewhere a little more private," His voice was seductively low against your skin, "I'm not into sharing."

[kyokutsu-sama]

_____________________________

My Future Queen

A/n: Nothing to say other than I'm obsessed with this man🛐🛐 Julius Daddy Novachrono, I love you so much❤️👑

Tw: Nsfw under the line

_____________________________

You entered the bedroom and let out a long, tired sigh. Today had been a tiring and busy day for royalty, a ball was taking place in the palace's great hall. Probably by now some of the nobility guests should be saying goodbye since some had already drunk too much and others were also tired just like you.

Julius must still be down there with a bunch of people around him. He was always the main star and the life of the party, something that the king of Clover would never be even with a crown on his head. Even for you, Julius was the true king.

You took off your shoes and arranged them at the entrance, then you walked to the table next to the bed and placed your accessories there. You ran your fingers over the diamond necklace that Julius offered you to go to the ball, it sparkled so much that you felt sorry for taking it off so you kept it on. You approached the window and saw the capital through the glass. It looked beautiful both night and day.

The door opened and you looked back to find your king walking in with a smile on his face and rosy cheeks. Probably due to alcohol, he was an excellent drinker and would last longer than anyone else.

"Good night my beautiful queen" He said walking towards you and hugged you from behind. "You left the ball early. Are you okay?" His voice next to your neck gave you goosebumps. You were right, there was a certain smell of alcohol coming from him when he spoke to you.

"Yes, I was just a little tired, that's all" You said looking to the side to see his face

"I was worried, I was already thinking that something had happened or that someone made you uncomfortable"

"No, nothing like that. Apart from the fact that some were a little nasty to me" You commented, remembering the scene in which Julius had to intervene after seeing another idiot trying to hit on you. As soon as the man found out that you would be the Wizard king's future wife, he was speechless and left after almost kneeling down and apologizing a million times. You couldn't contain a smile after seeing and remembering the scene once again.

"Are you referring to that man? Don't worry, he knows who you belong to now" Julius brushed the tip of his nose against the skin of your neck before kissing you, his arms tightened around you and pulled you against him

You closed your eyes and enjoyed a little of that pleasurable feeling he was giving you, you were on your way to witnessing a man who was a little different. Julius was a very respectful and affectionate man with you, he always treated you like the queen that you are but when exposed to situations like that he would go crazy and could get a little more harsh and if you still teased him with that, it would be the last straw.

"I never thought that being your future wife would make me a desired woman" You teased, smiling and he turned you to him and looked into your eyes

"It's a shame that none of them can have you because you belong to me, dear" He said before kissing you

His hand remained firm on your waist and the other on your face, his lips seemed soft initially but his gaze was lascivious and so it didn't take long for things to heat up and the kiss became more needy. His hands hurried to remove the white lace dress you had worn for the occasion, the same one he looked at and wondered what it would look like on the bedroom floor.

You then took your hands to your king's cloak and took it off his shoulders, he picked you up and took you to the bed and laying you on the soft sheets. He knelt on the mattress in front of you, looking at you and delighting in you lying in front of him, his hands running over your body before he leaned forward and kissed your neck and marked your skin. He removed your bra and kissed your breasts slowly, your fingers passed through his short blonde strands and your lips opened to sigh heavily, the excitement between your legs was only increasing the more he touched you. Julius moved away and opened your legs, licking his lips at the sight of the wet fabric. His eyes met yours and you felt a certain heat cover your face, he loved how cute you looked blushing like that and kissed you.

"You look so perfect now" He whispered against your lips."The necklace suits you beautifully"He said, appreciating the shine of the precious crystals

His fingers caressed you through the fabric and you shivered, he ran two fingers over your wet slit before removing your last piece of clothing and exposing you to him.

He positioned himself between your thighs and lowered himself to taste what he had been craving all night. Your back formed an arch and your legs weakened, his tongue opened your slippery folds and gave you goosebumps, your king was hungry.

"Julius..." You moaned his name, feeling a wave of pleasure running through your body

The fingers of his hands dug into the flesh of your thighs, his mouth turned his attention to your sensitive bud. You rolled your eyes, hands gripping his hair as you held him closer. You knew he would take out that slight jealousy towards the other idiot just because he messed with you. He was a peaceful man, but don't touch what belonged to him. He didn't express what he felt but those purple irises didn't hide anything from you.

It didn't take you long for you to came on his mouth, which ran down your slit and drank it. The man stood up, licking the corner of his lips and taking off his clothes, you just enjoyed the show, panting and with a slight smile on your face.

"Your smile makes me think you were thinking about this before, don't you?" He asked, running his fingers up your thighs as he looked at you.

"Would it be wrong for a queen to want some attention from her king?"

"No, you could have said it sooner, you know. I like spontaneity" He smiled

"And would you fuck me in the middle of the dance if I asked you, your majesty ?" You sat on the mattress and got closer to his face, only to see a the serious and thoughtful expression on his face, probably imagining the scene, changing to the smile again

"If you insisted..." He suggested and you giggled. "Who would I be to deny something to my future wife and queen?" He closed the distance between you both with a deep kiss as he laid you back on the mattress

One of his hands slid down your body and grabbed your thigh, you moaned against his lips when he took his dick and passed it through your folds, teasing your throbbing entrance.

"Do you want this?" He asked with his forehead against yours and you nodded.

He then kissed your forehead and entered you, your hands ran down his back leaving future red marks. His body started moving against yours, your legs hugged his body closer and his eyes on yours made you feel a little tense from the intensity.

The pace increased and he moved away a little, placing both of your legs on his shoulder, holding them with one arm and resting one hand on the wall behind the bed. The position allowed him to go deeper while he saw you squirming and your hands gripping the bed sheets tightly. The moans were heard even outside the bedroom, Marx would probably be shocked if he could hear it.

Poor baby, too innocent to imagine Julius in a situation like that.

"If that man could only see you now..." The wizard king said, breathing heavily. You felt the blush on your cheeks again at those words. "You will be my queen and everyone will know"

You whimpered beneath him, feeling him go faster and faster as he spoke, it was pushing you to the limit.

You could no longer think straight, much less feel your body, he was giving it his all and you knew you would be sore later. Your half-open eyes caught sight of the man in front of you and you could tell he was close.

"Will you be my good queen and take everything inside you?" He said, thrusting deeper and you writhed with pleasure

"Yeah...yeah, please, I'll take it all" Tears of pleasure prickling the corners of your eyes as he reveled in the sight

You fell apart at that moment, unable to hold it in any longer, he then filled you until you were taking everything and couldn't let it leak. His arm let go of your legs and he bent down kissing your lips, now it didn't seem as rough as at first, it was somehow softer but the desire was still there on his tongue. You moved away from the kiss for a moment to catch your breath since you're both panting now.

He took one of your hands that was holding his face and kissed it gently as his eyes met yours once again.

"You're beautiful, my queen" He whispered and then commenting on your rosy cheeks. "Why are you blushing again?" He joked

"I'm not blushing" You looked away but he turned your face towards him again and kissed your lips once again

"Don't hide your face, I love seeing you like this"He declared with a chuckle, laying down next to you and pulling you to lay on top of him. "We're going to get married soon and have another ball, but I'll make sure this time I hold your hand everywhere and I'll protect you from everything" He promised, kissing the top of your head

You looked into his eyes and saw his confidence in keeping his word. You would undoubtedly be in good hands if you married him.

[bonzos-number-1-fan]

What DPHW Means, and Its Relationship to Smirke's 14

The following contains spoilers for all of TMA, TMP (eps 1, 2, and 3 released currently if you’re in the future), and the ARG. Spoilers for all of this are throughout so I would advise against reading any of this unless you've listened to everything mentioned. It could also spoil episodes of TMP that have yet to release but if it does I don't think it will be a major spoiler. If I'm right I think I'm only right about a fairly trivial piece of information. 

Theory of Fears; or, Zur Furchtlehre

Part 1: Opticks

Smirke's 14 isn't the truth. With or without Dekker's +1. It is, however, necessary and correct. It has also been talked about ad nauseam and isn't a topic I want to dedicate a lot of time to. Smirke's 14+1, or even TMA in general, isn't the focus of this theory nor is it that relevant past its necessity as a point of comparison.

There aren't 14+1 distinct entities in the TMA cosmology. There is a singular entity that has been given divisions by fear and labels by those that have witnessed it. There is no objective line in which to draw these divisions. No matter where you put them or what you name them these concepts will always bleed into each other. Aspects of one Entity will manifest in another because the labels are invented and Fear is a storm of concepts crashing into each other. That's not a flaw in Smirke's list but its strength. A single entity of that scale is impossible to discuss in meaningful terms, the concept has too much gravity to be properly conceptualised and so an entire spectrum of fear must be divided in order to combat it. Categorisation is a vital part of TMA's cosmology and Smirke was as correct as anyone to put those lines down where he did. The real flaw with Smirke's list is forgetting the spectrum exists and stopping seeing the shades in between the Powers.

Finding a way to categorise this concept is important, but the methodology isn't. Smirke's 14 isn't the truth. The only truth is there is a singular whole. But branding goes a long way both in terms of research and in terms of following. This branding lacks accuracy though, it is in large part arbitrary and by its nature removes the shades and the bleed. TMP takes a different approach, one only hinted at, but one that I think is now fully explainable. 

Part 2: Lost in Translation

Perhaps the most interesting mystery in TMP thus far is DPHW. However, I think based on episodes 1 and 2 of TMP (and now 3), and the Klaus excel sheet from the ARG, we have all we need to explain its utility.

In order to show that conclusion in a satisfactory manner some basic facts need stating, and the order of my thoughts on those facts needs explaining. Firstly, each DPHW is 4 digits. Secondly, each DPHW is read as 4 numbers rather than, say, a pair of 2 numbers. Thirdly, these numbers can change independently of each other. Fourthly, incidents may share CAT#R#'s but have a different DHPW as found in the Klaus sheet (a German document listing OIAR-style incident reports). Finally, the German equivalent of DPHW is TSHU also found in the Klaus sheet. We can use those facts to determine something important. Each letter of this initialism is paired with a digit meaning that DHPW is a group of 4 categories. If that is true we can intuit some of its meaning. It is likely that these numbers are a rating of sorts for each category there. To prove that's the case we would need to know the categories and fortunately we have a starting point to understanding it, German.

If the categories that DPHW describes start with the letters TSHU in German then what needs to be done to find the categories is quite simple. You pair each letter up and then find a suitable word to categorise the supernatural whose first letter starts with the respective letter from the initialism in its language. D/T, P/S, H,H, W/U. After some brainstorming in the Statement Remains PLUS Discord server we had come up with strong candidates for 3 of the 4 pairs.

The first was Deadly/Tötlich, a seemingly solid start that gave this theory some legs. Next was Painful/Schmerzlich which was a distinct enough category for the threat of an incident that proved this was a strong direction to head it. H/H proved more troublesome. To my mind the two strongest contenders here were Hypnotic/Hypnotisch or Helpless/Hilflos. Both sound very reasonable but that in itself is a problem. However the last one was found relatively easily as Weird/Unheimlich. With 3 of the 4 it seemed like this was all but correct at this stage. However, I had been thinking about this backwards and it wasn't until I had a revelation that the pieces really fell into place.

Unheimlich sounded familiar when it was suggested but not in a way I could place. It wasn't until the next day that the aforementioned revelation happened. The ARG had a huge focus on Germany, and Ep 1 of TMP revealed why. FR3-D1 uses German source code which makes German the original language for the OIAR's methodology. Meaning DPHW is the translation, and I now think it's a shoddy one at best. The reason unheimlich sounded so familiar to me is because it's a fairly important part of psychology's history.

DPHW's Weird isn't weird, DPHW's Weird is uncanny. A direct translation could give you weird but a more accurate one, especially in this instance, gives you unheimlich. Unheimlich as in Jentsch's "Zur Psychologie des Unheimlichen", and Freud's "Das Unheimlich". Both of which are essays on the uncanny. It's all about the fear of the unfamiliar, and a central example of this is Olympia from Der Sandmann, a seemingly living doll.

The German word unheimlich is obviously the opposite of heimlich, heimisch, meaning “familiar,” “native,” “belonging to the home”; and we are tempted to conclude that what is “uncanny” is frightening precisely because it is not known and familiar... - Freud, The Uncanny

This is incredibly relevant to a lot of what has been discovered so far. The uncanny as a topic in psychology was kickstarted by two Germans, and a central part of their essays was the German Der Sandmann, and a German, SSandman, was a large presence in the ARG. The strength of this connection all but solidified this theory in my mind. And, briefly, this is also related to Masahiro Mori's uncanny valley hypothesis which I'm sure I won't need to explain.

The obvious way to test this is to take the few W ratings we have been given and compare them to the incident to which they're assigned. The first is from Ep 1, “dolls comma watching”, and was given a 7. This is a good start both in that a 7 feels appropriate as an "uncanny rank" but also that a doll is a focal point on the essays on the subject. Also in Ep 1 is "Reanimation (Partial)", again with a 7. Another very appropriate number. The last in Ep 1 is "Transformation (eyes)" with a 5. Certainly less uncanny than the previous examples so this is still strong. In Ep 2 we get a 5 for Bram Stoker's Dracula, which seems more than fair for a strange man like him, and a 7 for Frankenstein which gives parity for another story of the resurrected dead. Finally we get "Transformation (full)" at a 7, more uncanny than "Transformation (eyes)" which tracks nicely.

With what I felt was such a strong theory for the W/U pairing it helped clarify the ideas of the others. The final digit rating the uncanniness of an incident gives an idea of how these categories work and the breadth of their definitions. Up until this point I was leaning towards Hypnotic/Hypnotisch for our H/H pairing. But giving it more thought, and comparing it to TMA's own groupings, it becomes apparent that Helpless/Hilflos is more appropriate. Hypnotic effects are too aligned with things that would already be very aligned with Uncanny ones, the Stranger's Not!Them alter memories and prey on the fear of something being not quite right, so as a categorisation tool I think it makes less sense because of the greater overlap. Helpless on the other hand works better for things like The Dark, The Buried, or The Lonely. Aspects which I don't think show up in our current other 3 groups. But given the current definition of the strongest category, the fear of the uncanny, I think that helplessness is a more apt label. The fear of helplessness. Which makes H Helplessness/Hilflosigkeit.

With this level of breadth established re-examination of the final two categories is warranted. Painful/Schmerzlich is more likely to be Pain/Schmerz. Not just incidents that are themselves painful but the fear of pain, possibly including the emotional. A comparison to TMA gives this rating a strong affiliation with Entities such as The Desolation, The Corruption, or the Flesh. Similarly Deadly/Tötlich should now be broadened beyond the fear of things that will kill you, to the fear of death in a broader sense. Which makes D/T Death/Tod instead. To compare again to TMA this is The End, The Extinction, or The Slaughter. Although, while I might be describing these ideas as the fear of ____ I think it's important to know that they do appear to be more conceptual in nature rather than just if something is scary or not.

Comparing each of these assumed categories against current DPHW’s strengthens this argument. “Dolls, watching” scored 1157. It’s a very low fear of death and pain, but they present a medium fear of helplessness and a high fear of the weird. For a fear that’s rooted in paranoia that makes good sense. “Reanimation (Partial)” got a very similar rating, at 5257, but it being a corpse cranks up its fear of death. “Transformation (eyes)” got 2155 which, again, seems to fall in place with what we know. It’s more human than the doll is so it’s less weird but a physical and alarming transformation naturally seems like more of a terminal concern. Combine that with some good ol' internet death threats and it's not nothing, but not much.

As a small aside, while it's not come up in the episodes so far the Klaus sheet shows DPHW's are 0-9. There is a good bit of evidence to suggest 0 might be read as 10 here. 0 most commonly showed up in that sheet for P and the incidents often had the notes "Kriegsvolk". Literally "war people" but more accurately "army/soldier". So pain of 10 for those would track better than P of 0, and it explains why things like the watching doll rate a 1 for D and P instead of a 0, and Dr. Webber's infection is a P of 1 despite entirely removing physical and emotional pain as it goes. Because 1 is the lowest.

For Ep 2 we start with Dracula scoring a 7465, he’s undead and a killer for high death, if he kills you it hurts but it’s not extreme, he’s both hard to physically stop and has mental tricks, and he’s just a weird dude in general who always seems off somehow. Frankenstein at 5337 has aforementioned parity with the reanimation incident as you’d expect but notably less on the helplessness rating as he is just a man. Next is “Transformation (full)” at 1567. This is generally a more severe rating overall than Transformation (eyes) and you’d expect that, but I think it does show something interesting. At no point did Daria want to end her own life. The transformation is far more severe, arguably looks more life threatening, and was clearly more painful but it is explicitly and repeatedly not about dying. I take that as a suggestion that these ratings take into account more than just the mundanely observable nature of the incident. She looks very sick which would make you think of death but it rates low for it because of the emotional, or maybe supernatural, purpose of the incident. She didn’t want to die, the manifestation didn’t try to kill her, and so despite its appearance it’s low on death.

Then finally in Ep 3, we have "Infection (full body)" with a 8175. (Although I'm assuming that's a misfile and it should be Infection (Arboreal)). I think D and H here are more interesting to dig into. P is pretty obvious it's the lowest rating because it seemed actively pain-numbing as it went. W being 5 tracks too is certainly uncanny and has strange geometry but it's not full Distortion levels. So with those two out of the way we can get to the good stuff. D is the most interesting of the two to me. Because while it's pretty clear he died I don't think that's got much to do with it. Rather I think the 8 is more specifically about the way it deals with death, decay, and rot in relation to new life and the growth of other things, plants and insects. Thematically, I think there is a lot more emphasis on death as a broader concept beyond the terminal nature of the infection. For Helplessness there is also an additional element beyond whether or not he was able to do something about the infection, and that's whether he wanted to. As the symptoms worsened his desire to treat them decreased. Initially he was worried about the infection and determined to seek attention when able, then he was happy to let someone else help instead (a hallucination, which makes things more helpless), before finally wanting it to happen. These sorts of elements are things I think we're going to see factor in quite a lot.

In summary; it is my belief that DPHW is a way to rate incidents that the OIAR catalogue based upon the strength of the fear they elicit in the categories of death, pain, helplessness, and weird (uncanny). This system is effectively the TMP equivalent to Smirke's 14 from TMA. Rather than assigning each statement to an Entity each incident is rated for those qualities. These systems are distinct methodologies but each is a way to categorise the supernatural.  

Part 3: On Analogy

That is the juicy bit of this post out of the way so now I have to put a bow on it and touch upon the overarching analogy here. As alluded to by the title and some turns of phrase, it's colour theory. It's a somewhat common analogy for TMA's fears but I think it applies in equal measure to TMP and taken together might provide an insight into how the cosmologies will differ. So, to me, colour theory is not only the perfect lens in which to view the Fears as a whole, it's the perfect lens to view these methodologies.

Smirke is Newton. He broke up a singular spectrum into wide chunks. The Dread Powers themselves are very analogous to a colour wheel. Colours bleed into each other and the boundaries of where one stops and starts is up for debate but red is still red, and blue is blue. That is a useful context for them, it aids discussion. Try talking about red without ever saying red and only referring to a representation of a divided whole. But all too similar to Newton's 7 colours Smirke's 14 lacks nuance, it lacks shade.

On the other hand we have DPHW and this is all shade. DPHW is CMYK. It's not one thing or another with DPHW. You don't have the pitfall of Smirke's methodology where one manifestation is in one arbitrary box. Here, assuming I'm correct, each incident is made up of constituent parts. The OIAR, and presumably its German forebear, are less interested in Smirke's occult ancient gods and more interested in bureaucratic precision. Smirke was doing research while the OIAR are doing administration. As such DPHW takes a wholly different approach. It's now all shades. This has its own problems in that it's harder to discuss in broad terms. It's such a specific methodology that it's lost a lot of what Smirke triumphed with. This is well represented already given that no one has been shown to know what it means at all yet. But if there is a truly different cosmology at play here we might see the axes of DPHW being where alliances fall.

All that leaves us with is a comparison of these two. The only way to really do that is to talk about how Smirke's 14+1 would fit in DPHW's system. This is something I touched upon briefly. Death is strongly related to The End, The Extinction, or The Slaughter. Pain to The Desolation, The Corruption, or the Flesh. Helplessness to The Dark, The Buried, or The Lonely. Weird to the Stranger, or the Spiral. But that's not all of them and even within those it's already clear that something like The Vast isn't just about helplessness, and we've already seen Daria who would likely be an avatar of the Flesh rank highly in Weird. Which hits upon what I feel is the most interesting aspect of this entire theory. We've seen what happens with Smirke's boundaries on the Entities. We don't know if Entities even exist in this setting, or if they do exist whether they'll be the same ones, or even if they're not the same ones whether they'll function under similar rules. But now we get to see what happens when there aren't those boundaries. We get to see much broader mingling than TMA showcased. It was hinted at there, especially early on before the lore really settled, but now that mingling seems to be the whole point.

And as a brief mention, and to further labour the theme, I don’t think there is enough information to really discuss how CAT#R# works but there are some analogies to work with here. From the Klaus sheet we can infer that CAT# has the following values 1/2/3/12/13/23/123. Or three non-mutually exclusive groups. What those groups are is hard to say right now. There is some soul/body/spirit stuff for the alchemic tria prima that's got some nice connections but doesn't map well now that Ep 3 is out. Either way, this is RGB. An incident can be all red, or red and blue, etc. R#'s values we can infer to be C/BC/B/AB/A/S with maybe an AS in there too. That's a linear scale of similarly unknown value but could represent something like potency/threat. If that is the case then R# is saturation. Some things are more intense than others. We also know from the Klaus sheet that CAT is the German from the "kategorie" meaning "category" the R was from the German “rang” meaning “rank” and so probably has more meaning to it than currently implied.

[heizlut]

Me & The Devil

*an alternative (and more toxic) version of the original

TW: dark content, heavy manipulation, twisted behavior, gaslighting, somnophilia, dacryphilia, proceed with caution

tags: switch yandere fem!reader, yandere dom!dottore, mostly proofread sry for any mistakes

word count: 4.5k

nsfw under the cut

a/n: this is an alternative version of the original which means some things are the same but with new additions and a different ending. both versions are equally fucked up.

check out my masterlist here!

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Who would have thought that you would be the one to bring Dottore to his knees? He would do anything and everything for you. No one can recall just when you managed to get him wrapped around your finger. You both were the objects of each other’s depraved desires whether either of you knew each other’s intentions from the start or not. It’s hard to believe that anyone could match up to Dottore’s level of twisted manipulation, but you did, deliciously so.

—

You were always such a curious akademiya student; always off on your own and researching whatever you pleased. Your curiosity for the forbidden was becoming quite the talk at the akademiya. Your interest piqued when you found left over research notes from a previous student named Zandik. After asking around and getting strange looks from others, you were about to give up on your search for the man. You bumped into something hard causing you to drop the notes and files you had found and you land hard on your ass. When you looked up, you saw a tall man with blue hair wearing a mask that hid his features. You were immediately entranced by his mysterious aura.

He didn’t think much of you at first until he saw what had scattered on the ground. With a smirk, he held out his hand to you, “I apologize. I must not have been paying attention to where I was going.” You felt your heart race as your thoughts began to twist. You grabbed his hand, pretending to wince as though the pain from your fall was bit much to bear, “I should be the one to apologize. I’m the one who ran into you.” The man laughed it off and bent down to help you gather your papers to which you tried to quickly hide what they contained.

Your reaction made him raise an eyebrow under his mask, “What’s this? Do you have something to hide, little one?” You felt your face heat up at the accusation and the nickname. It felt like he could see right through you, but oh did it send delicious tingles right up your spine, “N-no.. It’s just-“ You sighed as you gathered your thoughts. “If you’d like, we could go somewhere else if you’d like to tell me about it?”, he offered with a smile that you couldn’t quite decipher. You nodded and gave a small smile in return setting your own plans in motion, “It would be nice to have someone to share this with. Thank you.”

You learned that the man was named Dottore. He listened to everything you explained with just a sly smirk on his face. The mask he wore made it hard for you to decipher his true feelings, but the fact that he had sat there and listened with some sort of intrigue to what you were saying made you feel like you were finally understood. He made no move to berate you for what you chose to have an interest in.

Little did you know that the files and notes you had found were all from him and his previous research from before he was expelled from the akademiya and changed his name. He was more than happy to entertain your curiosity. Initially, it shocked you when he offered his hand to you for the second time that day and asked if you would like to pursue your curiosities further with him as your mentor. Your shock morphed into secret satisfaction when you realized that you were getting the chance to act on your twisting thoughts. You gave him an innocent smile as you took his hand. That’s where it all began.

—

At first, Dottore kept some distance from you. You didn’t like that he did this. You wanted to be desired by him in the same way that you desired him. Little by little he began to cut you off from the rest of the world without you paying it any mind. It started with him offering for you to stay one night since it had gotten late and you had carefully feigned your worry about going home alone in the dark. You held back your giddy feelings and graciously accepted to stay.

Soon it became a habit to stay with him after long days of researching and experimenting together. You had your own sleeping quarters, which you had found to be a disappointment, but you knew you could turn this in your favor. Dottore was good at hiding his true intentions and the dark things he was doing without your knowledge. He was so careful to show you only what he wanted you to see. But he didn’t know you had been doing the very same since the moment you laid eyes on him.

Next, he made an offhand comment about you just dropping out of the akademiya and studying under him full time. He had only said it when you came to his place after yet another tough day at the akademiya. You had walked in with a dark and tired look in your eyes, dropping your heavy bag to the ground with a loud thud. Dottore tilted his head slightly at your demeanor, “Would you like to share what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” His words felt like it had lit you on fire from the inside. You wanted to take what was just your typical tough day of study and craft your words in such a way that would keep you even closer to him.

You walked up to the table between the two of you and let out a dramatic sigh. You leaned forward, your elbows propped up on the table and your hand resting under your chin. You made sure to arch your back just enough to give off the appeal you wanted to portray and looked up at him innocently through your lashes. From there, you began to go on and on about how you wish you could fully pursue your true interests without interference. He listened to you intently; his eyes travelled subtly across your features, drinking them in. As soon as you finished, he told you to simply drop out and he would take care of you. You took a moment to realize your plan had worked and looked at him with such admiration when he made his suggestion. Your silence made him want to comfort you, so with his own carefully crafted words he smiled, “It’s all up to you. But just know… You’ll never reach your true potential if you’re trapped under the akademiya’s thumb.” You acted as though you were mulling over his words when in reality your fantasies were running rampant in your mind.

“I can give you everything you need. All you need to do is say the word.”, is what he said as he watched the gears turn in your head. You looked up at him in such a way that made his heart skip, “I’ll drop out. Just promise me that you’ll help me pursue what I want.” To anyone else, it would have seemed as though you meant that you wanted to pursue your true interests in your research, but in truth, your strongest pursuit was him.

The smile on his face grew as he made his promise to you. If you could see the look in his eyes without the mask obscuring your view, you would have noticed that his smile held insanity and obsession. He wanted you all to himself and he was finally getting closer to what he wanted. So were you.

—

Days turned to weeks, which turned to months. You and Dottore had each other so caught up in one's web of manipulation. Both of you were none the wiser of what the other was doing. You acted as though you were dependent on him, letting him cut you off from the world. When was the last time you had been outside with the sun warming your skin? You laugh at the thought. Why would you care when you had everything you wanted right here? You would do literally anything to have Dottore all to yourself. You both kept each other close as he helped you get further along with your research. He gave you everything you wanted, no questions asked. He was oh so good to you. He never even asked for anything in return, to your own dismay...

It actually bothered you. Why wouldn't he ask anything of you? He could demand you to get on your knees for him and choke on his cock in return for what he's done for you and you'd do it happily. But he never did... You began to hint that you would like to return his many favors, but Dottore would just brush you off with a laugh and a smile saying that seeing you happy with what you were accomplishing together was more than enough. You felt conflicted at the words. They were sweet which must mean he felt something for you right? But you were also conflicted because you wanted him to just take what he wanted from you. One thing you failed to notice as the way his gaze on you would change when your back was turned from him. The way it travelled down your body, taking in every inch and curve, committing it to memory... It was dark and hungry...

You formulated a sly little plan in hopes of getting his attention. You reached up to grab a new test tube from a shelf that was just out of your reach. Making sure the little skirt you wore rose up to expose a bit of the roundness of your ass. Your breath hitched with excitement when you felt a hand touch your waist. A hard chest pressed up against your back. Hot breath on your neck... "Let me get that for you." His voice sent tingles straight to your aching cunt. Dottore had never touched you like this before... Your thoughts swirled in a frenzy in your mind. Fantasizing about him bending you over right there and fucking you senseless. You must have been silent for too long because he let out a breathy laugh, the test tube held in front of your heated face, "Aren't you going to take it, dear?" Your cunt clenched around nothing as you bit your lip and took the test tube from his hands, muttering your thanks.

His hands lingered, moving down your body. You tried to contain yourself when you swore you felt something hard poking your ass. Did he really want you as much as you wanted him? You wanted to look at him, see what kind of expression he had. You began to try and turn around only to be pushed further into the shelf, the spare glassware rattled from the impact. Dottore's sly smile that played upon his lips. The dark look in his eyes... Everything that was happening made your breath quicken. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours, huh? Anything you want to share?", he was taunting you. He wanted to push the boundaries with you. You blushed hard. You were finally getting the attention you desired but you couldn't get the words out. He stepped away from you with a small laugh, "You don't have to tell me. Your face says it all." With one last smirk, he walked away, leaving you flustered.

—

Nothing else happened for awhile after that. This bothered you greatly. Fuck... You were so close to getting exactly what you wanted, yet you had to go and fuck it up by being unable to speak. But with what had happened, your fantasies ran rampant in your mind. You felt yourself grow slick with arousal as you lay in your bed. You kept replaying the way he had looked at you, the way he touched you... You let out a frustrated groan when your fingers just weren't enough to bring you over the edge. You wondered if he was laid up in his bed fantasizing about you in the way you were of him. You let yourself fall asleep, frustrated, sexually and emotionally.

Dottore stood there over your sleeping form. His cock stirring to life as he rubbed himself through his pants at just how innocent you looked as you slept. You rolled onto your back in your sleep, muttering his name. His eyes squeezed shut as he palmed himself with more pressure. You had said his name in your sleep. You must have been dreaming about him. Dottore lets out a groan of satisfaction. His sweet little student was thinking of him in their sleep... He pulled his heavy cock from his pants, pumping his length over your sleeping form. Little did he know, the slick sound of him jerking off and his soft deep grunts woke you. You opened one eye just enough to see his eyes tightly shut and his large hand wrapped around his cock. You wanted to use this to your advantage. You wanted his cum. Needed it.

You let out a soft breathy moan of his name, causing him to release all over your face with a choked groan. You did your best to act as though you were still asleep and simply dreaming of him. He smirked as he kneeled down next to you, tucking himself back into his pants. He admired how much prettier you looked with his cum splattered across your sweet face. Dottore takes his finger, running it through his release. Once he gathered enough on his finger, he gently pressed it into your slightly parted mouth. It took everything in you to not suck his finger and swirl your tongue around it to taste everything he was giving you. He hoped you would wake up with the taste of his essence still on your tongue. He removed his shirt and used it to gently wipe the remaining cum off of your face (much to your dissatisfaction). He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead and whispered, "Sweet dreams, little one."

—

You woke up the next day with the taste of his cum still on your tongue. Your needy little pussy was soaked and aching to be filled by his cock. Images of Dottore touching you even more than he did that day in the lab up against the shelves, kissing your neck and down your body as his hands gripped your hips. These fantasies were eating you alive, but now you knew for sure he felt the same. Why else would he do what he did last night? You got up from your bed and make your way to the shower. Your clothes dropped to the floor and you let the water run down your body as your thoughts flood your mind. He consumed your life and you hoped you consumed his just as much. You were in so deep now, there was no going back. Not like you wanted things to end right when they had started getting good. You needed him. He needed to be yours. No one else's.

The days passed by and you felt as though you were going fucking insane. He made no new moves on you and things felt as though they took several steps back from the progress you thought you had made. Little did you know that Dottore was planning even more in his twisted mind. He was being so careful with his manipulation. Giving then pulling away. He wanted to drive you crazy and make you feel like you needed him in order to survive. He wanted your thoughts to be on him and only him. It didn't take long for you to notice him touching you more frequently. His fingers lingering as if he wanted to memorize the way you felt against his fingertips. He began pressing himself against you as he passed behind you. The feeling made you almost feral. Did he not realize your cunt was constantly soaked and dripping because of him?!

You made sure to dress a little more provocatively to keep his attention and his touches frequent. You were subtle enough to keep him guessing if you were dressing like this for him or if your style was simply changing as time when on. Archons did he hope you were doing it for him. One evening you sat across from Dottore, pushing your food around your plate with your chopsticks, caught up in thoughts of him pushing the dishes off the table and fucking you right there. He studied you curiously, wanting to pry into your sick little mind, "Is everything alright, dear? You know you can tell me anything. I'll listen." You snapped out of your dirty thoughts, looking up at him with a dazed expression. You rubbed your thighs together to ease your aching pussy, the frustration bubbling up to the surface, tired of playing fucking mind games, "What are we doing." He tilted his head slightly at your words, he sensed the frustration and wanted to push you further, "Whatever do you mean? We are research partners. I am your mentor. Does that not satisfy you?"

Your face heated up and you clenched your jaw. What was his deal? Didn't he want you like you wanted him? You took a deep breath and tried to compose yourself, "Thank you for everything you've done for me. I.. I guess I am satisfied." Before you could continue, Dottore cut you off, his palms pressed against the table as he leans over it, "Always so humble.." He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and leaned in even closer to your face. Your expression a mix of frustration and confusion. "Too bad I'm not satisfied", his tone dark. Your thoughts run wild yet again and he smirks, "Be mine. I can give you even more than what I give you now. After all... It's only fair... You owe me so much..."

You swore your pupils dilated, your breath quickened, and fuck, you were dripping. Dottore thought he was so clever for everything that had happened leading to this point. A sick smirk on his face which turns to slight confusion when your lips curl into a smile. You looked just as crazed as him. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to decipher just what exactly was going on. Before he could ask you, you closed the gap, slamming your lips against his in a heated kiss. Dottore gasped in surprise but it slowly morphed into a low groan as you gently bit down on his bottom lip. As you finally broke away, breathing heavily, he got up and quickly made his way over to your side of the table. He grabbed your wrist pulling you up and pinned you roughly against the wall.

The look on his face should have scared you, but it only served to make you even more wild for him. Dottore pinned your wrists above your head with one hand and caressed your cheek with the other, "What a turn of events, little one..." He leaned in, his lips grazing yours as he looked into your eyes with deep intensity, "You're not going to leave me. Not now..." He paused, his tongue flicking out to lick your lips, "Not ever." You let out a breathy moan. This is all you've ever wanted. Fuck, it was finally happening. You were practically shaking against him, not to be mistaken for fear but of unbridled arousal and desperate need. "I'm yours... and you're mine", your breath danced across his lips as you spoke. You rolled your hips forward to grind against his hardness. Your words and every sensation he felt with you in that moment made him snap.

Dottore tore open your blouse, buttons flying across the room. He let go of your wrists to cup your breasts, a sick sense of pleasure washes over both of you. If only you could see the deeply depraved looks you showed the other in this moment. You bit down on your lip as he pinched and rolled your pebbled nipples between his fingertips. He couldn't get enough of every little expression you made. He wanted to see more... One hand travelled down your curves and makes its way to your aching center, moving your drenched panties to the side. He tilted his head a bit, giving you a dark smirk as he gently and slowly pressed a finger to your clit, drawing a small, frustrated whimper from you, "Your little cunt is absolutely soaked... It's just begging for me to claim it."

Your gaze danced between his eyes, lips, and down to where he was toying with your swollen clit, "It's yours to take. Always has been." Your voice a mere breath, drawing a growl from his lips as he plunged two fingers into your cunt. Tears of arousal and relief slipped down your soft cheeks, your jaw hanging open in a soundless moan. Dottore leaned forward, licking the salty tears from your cheeks. Archons, it was such a disgusting act yet it made you pulse around his digits. "Did it feel like this in your little fantasies of me?", his tone was teasing and dark. A small depraved smile tugs at your lips as you let out a breathy reply, "This is even better." There was a glint in your eyes, a dangerous one, "I need more."

You pushed him away and a stumbles slightly, caught off guard and his fingers leave you empty. You didn't care so much as you were now quickly getting to your knees and fumbling with getting his pants undone. Dottore looked down in surprise. Everything you've been doing has been throwing him off. Did his careful manipulation actually work on you to make you like this or did you play your own little games with him as well? You smirked up at him as you free his heavy cock, pumping it in your small hand. He wished he could take a picture of how you looked right then. So fucking devious, as if you planned this whole thing. He was the one who was supposed to be playing you to get what he wanted... His thoughts were interrupted when you took his length into your mouth, a rumbling groan rips from his chest as he took in the sensation of your hot mouth and your your tongue swirling around his cock.

He gripped onto your hair, tangling his fingers in it as he began thrusting into your throat. You choked, your throat tightening around his thick length made his eyes roll back, "Thaaat's it... Take it." You felt so much bliss in this moment. Your object of desire was finally where you wanted him to be. Letting him throat fuck you was just too good. You felt his grip tighten and you knew he was about to cum. You fought to gain control again, pulling away and digging your nails into his thighs. He winced slightly and let go, allowing you to remove your mouth from his throbbing cock. Dottore narrowed his eyes down at you, getting pissed at the smug look on your face as you begun to stand up, "You're not cumming unless you're filling up my cunt." Your lips grazed his as you whisper, "Breed me. Make me yours, Zandik."

That was fucking it. Hearing his real name fall from your gorgeous lips was the final straw. Dottore grabbed you harshly, pushing all the dishes from the table and onto the floor. The sound of glass breaking was barely registered by either of you as he bent you over the table. One hand pushed the middle of your back down, pressing you harder against the rough wood as the other hand lined his leaking cock up with your dripping entrance, "This is going to hurt, dear." No words could describe the absolute fucking pleasure you both felt as he forced his way inside your tight cunt. Drawn out moans fell from both of you as Dottore sank deeper into you. Once he was fully sheathed, he gripped your hair tugging your head up and using his other hand to grasp your chin so you were looking towards him, "Open your mouth." His command had you immediately obeying. He smirked as spat into your mouth, "Don't swallow. Keep it until I tell you otherwise."

You nodded, the taste of his saliva sitting on your tongue made you wish it was his cum instead. He gave your ass a harsh smack and released his grip on your hair. Your head involuntarily thrown back in pleasure from the smack and your wet pussy clenched tightly around his cock. A dark, crazed chuckles left Dottore's lips as he grabs onto the fat of your hips and begins slowly dragging his cock from your core. With just the tip left inside, he pauses, making you wiggle your hips in desperation. His grip tightens, "Ah ah, you get what I give you, little one." A whine leaves your lips, but before you could make more noise of protest, he slammed roughly into you. His pace was unwavering as tears of pleasure rolled down your cheeks, trying your best not to let his saliva he had given you earlier be swallowed or fall through your lips you were struggling to keep closed.

The way your gummy walls gripped and lubed his cock was highly intoxicating to him. He was finally having his way with you and he wasn't about to let this be a one time session. Depraved thoughts clouded his mind as he fucked into you, the tip of his dick hitting your cervix, making you cry out through closed lips. Dottore's thoughts ranged from impregnating you, keeping you naked and restrained to his bed, making you free use for him and only him. What made this somewhat funny in a fucked up way was that you were thinking the exact same thing. You were so desperate for him. Just the mere thought of his name made you insane. He was snapped from his twisted musings when he felt something gush down his cock on all over the floor. The absolute crazed smile on his face would be terrifying to any outsider, but he couldn't contain his emotions at the fact that he made you squirt all over his dick.

Dottore gripped your hair tightly yet again, yanking your head up to look up at him from over your shoulder. Fuck, you were so perfect with tears running down your reddened cheeks, your mouth obediently closed to hold the saliva that he considered a fucking gift to you. From that alone, his eyes rolled back and his cock throbbed inside of you, releasing thick, hot ropes of cum right up against your cervix. After letting his orgasm subside, he opened his eyes, looking directly into your fucked out gaze, "What a good little pet you've been... You may swallow." You swallowed the spit you had been holding in your mouth, not daring to break your gaze from his. The corners of your lips tugged into a sick smile, "Now you're mine and I am yours. You're never getting rid of me."

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a/n: the long awaited alternative version is here! i wanted to do so much more with this but it would’ve ended up as a short novel. hope you all enjoyed it😘

[anon-sect]

I'd love to be transformed by my father-in-law.

"You don't deserve to have my son, but you'll do just nicely as an object".

Sounds so hot.

Picture source: @superfinemen

George was initially shocked when his son, Alvin, came out to him. He didn't want to accept it at first, but he wanted to support his son eventually. He did support his choice when he saw how happy Alvin was. It was some time later that it was his son's choice in partners that displeased him. Every last guy that his son introduced to him, he didn't find worthy of his son.

Alvin finally did settle on one guy that he liked a lot. Peter was the guy that Alvin liked the most. Tired of his father having fault in every last one, he decided to stick with the one he loved best, despite his father's disapproval.

One weekend, Alvin had invited Peter to the family lake house for some fun time. George didn't like the prospect of seeing Peter for the entire weekend, but he played it off like he was okay with it for the sake of his son.

The second morning at the lake house, George saw Peter downstairs looking out the patio door. Alvin was still asleep. "You are up early." He spoke trying to be cordial when he really didn't want to.

"Really, Sir? Alvin is asleep now. You don't have to fake liking me when he isn't around." Peter paused with a serious look on his face. "My man told me how you haven't approved a single guy he liked. It's a darn shame you aren't as supportive as you should be." Peter added.

George didn't like the way he spoke back to him, even though it was partially true. He just wanted the best for his son, and he thought Peter wasn't it. "You are right about one thing. I haven't been as supportive as I should be. But I promise the next guy he sees, I will support his choice." He spoke as he pulled out his cellphone and opened up the TF Ray Pro app. He put in the setting for a pair of slides, size 12.

"Next guy!? I am not leaving Alvin anytime soon, Sir. You will just have to deal with me being with him." Peter countered back, rather upset at George's words.

"I am afraid my son won't even know what happened to you. He will grieve your disappearance but will move on soon enough." George spoke as he added an additional setting of long-term durability. He didn't want his feet to destroy his new slides completely. He wanted many years of use out of his son's former lover.

Peter wanted to question what George meant but didn't get the chance. There was a flash from his phone, and he instantly felt different. He tried to scream but had no ability to speak anything. It was just only his mental thoughts. He tried to move but found himself completely immobile. He didn't know what happened to him until he felt tremendous pressure crushing him. The pain was intense as something was stepping on him. He realized what it was when he felt toes scratching at his face. He was footwear.

George loved the way his new slides supported his feet. They were quite comfortable. In fact, they were more comfortable than normal slides. Each step felt good under his feet. He definitely would be keeping this pair for a long time, he thought to himself as he walked around the house, not giving a single care to what his feet was doing to Peter. He was nothing but his footwear now and should get used to his new menial existence under his feet. "You don't deserve my son. But you are very nice slides. I am definitely going to wear you so much on my feet." He spoke and laughed at the same time.

Alvin woke up later that morning and noticed Peter wasn't there. He looked around the house and couldn't find him anywhere. He went to see his dad in the dock. "Hey dad, have you seen Peter? I can't find him anywhere." He asked.

"No, son. The last time I saw him was when you two went to bed last night." George paused. "I don't know where he could be." He added, knowing full well his slides could hear this conversation, but helpless to do anything about it.

Alvin looked at his phone and saw a missed text from Peter. It read: "I am breaking up with you. I called for an Uber and left. I already have your number blocked so you can't reach me, good bye." He called the number, but it went straight to voice-mail. He was upset at seeing what the text said was true. "I don't know why he would do this to me, dad. I really liked him a lot." Alvin spoke, feeling down and depressed.

George hugged his son. "I know it hurts, but this is only temporary. You will find love again. The next guy you date, I promise to be more supportive of your choice. I will be a better father. The next one will be more worthy of your time." He spoke consoling his son over his grief.

"Thanks, dad. I will appreciate that. I think going out on the lake will help me get over the breakup." He spoke as he noticed his dad was prepping the boat. "Good, son. Let's go then." George spoke, making sure to scratch his toes on his new slides.

Peter was mentally screaming for help and cursing out George at the same time. He was helpless as he saw Alvin thought he broke up with him. There was no way to let his lover know what really happened to him. He could only watch in horror as his fate was to be under George's feet forever. His only view was of the soles of his feet. His only companion would be his owner's feet and the odor of ownership over him. He didn't look forward to smelling like foul foot odor.

ONE YEAR LATER.....

George received an invitation to Alvin and Greg's wedding. He was actually proud of the new guy he chose. Greg was definitely worthy of his son. He relaxed in his chair wearing his favorite slides he got a year ago. He honestly forgot the guy's name. But that didn't matter anyway. He had decided to keep him as his footwear.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Shattering sapphires tear under love

Aemond x prostitute!reader

warning : +18, smut (handjob), mommy kink, body worship, fluff, hurt/comfort, emotional, cuddling, crying, family issues and mommy issues, kissing, no use of Y/n, Aemonds just needs a little love

Summary : The death of his nephew, whether intentional or unintentional. A fact that had consequences and left the prince at a low point he hoped he would never reach…to be the disillusionment of his family. A prince of the realm crying broken dark in the dark finding escape with his other gem…

Info : OH MY GOD Aemond in the trailer and now seeing him a dream came true (even though I thought it was Rhaenyra at first strangely enough) this picture is just incredible ahhh. I knew I had to write it now have a lot of fun with it I had it again very much ;)

the aemond gif (very pretty by the way) is from @barbieaemond thanks for that and check out the blog

masterlist

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Rain and wind he could still feel nature on him. The lightning and thunder that struck around him tried to tear away and devour every living thing in the sky.

The winds tried to whirl him around, but the rugged wings of the ancient dragoness Vhagar were more powerful and had nature under them.

A creature of magic and ancient Valyria blood did not submit to the winds, it flew through them, obeying the commands of its fourth and final dragon rider.

Now it obeyed orders it was not commanded to obey as its mouth full of old sharp fangs closed around Arrax. The dragon's roar was barely audible, but the last look he gave his nephew was the one that burned into his eye like dragon fire, breaking his sphair.

He looked into those dark eyes and saw nothing but fear in the knowledge of death. I killed him. The blood and the torn body parts of the little dragon seemed to close around Lucerys and the prince and his dragon rushed to the water. It was as if Vhagar and the sky could control themselves again.

The anger subsided and he stared at his trembling hand, covered by a leather glove, which he had reflexively stretched out. Pathetic. It had happened, it had been done, and the sound of Vhagar's wings carrying him home seemed to be the only thing left of the world.

His pounding heart, his trembling hands and the burning pain of his scarred skin where his eye had once been seemed to be only the beginning of this nightmare. But the worst part of arriving back in the city, in King's Landing, in the castle that was his home from the towers to the courtyard and the throne room, was meeting his mother's eyes.

The initial touch of fear that something had happened to him during the storm, ,,Aemond, thank the gods you're all right," had drawn him into her arms for a moment, but this changed to an uncertain and nervous one when she saw how upset her son actually was.

When she saw that he didn't seem calm and almost cool like his violet eye showed emotions of fear and sadness that he didn't have until now at least. ,,Do you realize what you've done?" the loud voice of his grandfather and hand Otto Hightower echoed in the room intended for the small council.

He had never seen his grandfather so full of anger and hatred, at least not towards him. I was always better than him. A glance at his older brother only confirmed that he found it amusing that their sister's bastard was finally dead. The violet of the two brothers met and yet he could see that Aegon gave him a silent sign.

He would be on his side no matter what…a small certainty in time. ,,Aemond! By the crown, do you know what this means?" even his mother shouted now, his wonderful, strong mother, his queen dowager.

The woman who had held him when he was wronged, the blood running from his ruined eyes no more than scarred flesh now. The woman who had fought for him, his brother and Heleana, against a woman, his older half-sister, who had gotten everything.

She had had a hard time and he had let her down a reality that hurt as much as her grip on his arms. Pressing her bloody fingernails into the dark fabric of his sleeves, he could have sworn they left small marks. ,,It means war, mother," he replied calmly, regretting that it came across as cold, but inside he cried out for forgiveness.

The pain behind his eyes was like dragon fire itself, his fingers clenched into fists again and again to stifle the trembling. He almost backed away when his mother and grandfather made a move towards him, thinking they were going to hit him. Just as useless as Aegon.

But with the rise of Aegon and the opening of the door as Criston stepped in, both Hightowers paused to give their son and grandson a look that burned itself into Ameond's eye just as Lucerys had.

The same dark accusing eyes, he was to blame, he had disappointed…he was only the second son after all. ,,To war then', Aegon had interrupted the entrance, giving his younger brother a curt nod to disappear for a while, surrendering to the voices of his family, with wine the new king would be able to bear anything.

Leaving the room hastily before anyone could grab him, the prince of the realm disappeared into the dark corridors to escape to his chambers.

It was as if his heartbeat was mingling with his overly rapid breathing, the trembling of his fingers would not stop and whether it was the third cup of wine or the food that tasted of nothing, not even the old Valyrian books could calm him down. He almost shouted at the servants to leave him alone and even Heleana he was too afraid to let her see him like this.

She herself doesn't deserve you. But he knew from the sound of her shallow words that she already knew what had happened to him. ,Two dresses, silk shattering eye shattering castle under dragons…mother will understand dear brother" he had heard her voice as she had probably turned almost dance-like through the corridors in her hands her insects flying and crawling around and also that his ,,Thank you Heleana" which came across like a stifled whisper was heard by her.

His face hidden in his hands, leaning slightly hunched over on the armchair in front of the fireplace, seemed to break in his emotional thoughts. ,,Get a hold of yourself," he hissed angrily that he had become such a thing because of a boy…he had murdered and disappointed…he didn't deserve it…didn't deserve the love of his family…his mother.

It seemed to get worse with every moment, his usually too big room suddenly too small and suffocating. The light of the moon shining through the window let him know that there was King's Landing, a city that was always open to him. His gem was still there.

Not a decision but rather a feeling of attraction without overcoming it, he made a decision within himself. Turning away from the armchair that raised the fire that made his spahir sparkle and reaching for his cloak, he walked out of his chamber at the hour of the wolf.

He had evaded the guards with his brother since he was a child. The steps still the same feeling of uncertainty and curiosity as then. The time his brother had grabbed her and pulled him behind him towards the city, towards the Street of Silk.

The Street of Silk lay on the hill of Rhaenys, a street notorious for lust and whimsy. But it was the place, it was her place where he knew she was the only one who was always good-natured towards him.

Deep down inside, whenever he heard the faint jingle of his coin purse, he knew that at the end of the day it was just a service he was getting with money.

But maybe this was exactly what he needed, a service, a woman, a woman who would embrace him and not see him as what his family, his mother despised him for today. Coins are the life of a whore.

He pulled his hooded cloak low over his face, covering his face as best he could as he knocked on the door and heard the activity behind it. Or at least he knew what it looked like in there again, a den of lust that had been no stranger to him since he was thirteen.

After another brief moment in the darkness, the door opened and he saw the familiar dark curly hair of the older woman. The mother of the brothel. ,,At this late hour, my…customer," she said and he saw her eyes peering easily under his cloak. It was her, she was his first, he was her most endless.

He would not forget her and even though he had hated his brother, he had simply left him in the brothel while Aegon had disappeared into the building with several whores of both sexes.

So Aemond had been taken by her most of the experience and to this day he lied to himself. He could have had a younger one but even inside, hell she knew he had longed for nothing more than a mother's approval.

A fact that lay unsaid between them all these years until he found his new gem. It no longer remained unsaid. ,,Is she there?" he murmured as she grasped his hand again as she always did and almost patted it.

She led him through her large house past the customers, the young men and women she was one of the oldest but every brothel had to offer a complete age range. The silk on the bodies that were naked underneath gave a look of lust but his eyes were mostly on the floor or on his companion.

,,You know she's always there for you, my prince. I thought something a little more robust was needed," she remarked and he felt her rubbing his hand as they both knew exactly what it was. ,,Robust soon…but no, something more caring," he replied and stopped when they arrived in front of the door decorated with silver.

The silver he had paid for was evidence of his many visits and he was not surprised that the silver showed the shape of dragons and fire. His gemstone marked by the prince's coins.

He heard the older woman's laughter make her curls bounce as she broke away from him and paused, ,,Anything you wish for my dear she, me or anyone else my house is always open to you…she will take away your guilt" she said and winked he instantly tensed and had to suppress a sigh. Her eyes were guilty and cleverly she had to realize what her customers wanted.

But she could and had always read him just as well. Pulling the golden dragon coin out of the small pouch and throwing it in her direction and catching it, he only heard her laugh and saw the knowledge in her eyes before he had too much to do and went into the room.

His cloak still lay over him as he walked into the largest room of the house, the double bed with a sett curtain, the finest furniture and ornaments with murals, even relatively expensive jewelry could be found here.

It was the prince's second room and everyone knew it. He heard her humming a song as she always did when she looked in front of her mirror and combed her hair, cared for herself and enjoyed a cup of wine.

,,Who is it?" she asked into the room and waited for his answer but his throat seemed dry, suddenly those suppressed emotions came back. He felt the pain in his eye, his fingers were trembling and he couldn't control himself, it was terrible.

As he approached her, the cloak still on him, he saw that she had seen him in her mirror and put a knowing, gentle smile on her lips. ,,A cloaked man…who could that possibly be? What pretty thing is hiding underneath?" she asked knowingly and rose to her feet, making her sapphire necklace sparkle in the candlelight and her dark, almost green silk dress flap.

All gifts he had given her to transform her into something that was not him by blood but that didn't matter here, here in his own realm…not today, not yesterday and never.

She came closer to him and gently undid the clasp of the cloak, taking off the hood and tying the dark garment. He saw the hint of a smirk as she always did when she wanted to make a joke.

But just as her hand was about to rest on his cheek, she paused and saw in his violet eye what his mother had seen. ,,My Saphier, what's wrong? What's worrying you that it hurts, my prince?" she asked and took his hand with her other hand, seeming even more surprised to feel the slight trembling.

She slowly took off his gloves and finally her warmth met his coolness and for a moment she just continued to watch him. Skillful eyes always saw what a client needed but her prince, the perfect second son, what had shaken him so?

Slowly his hand take the warmth on his cold he always seemed cold. Slowly moving him towards the couch, the two-seater next to the bed was actually his favorite place. He listened to her there when she read him books and he combed her hair against his and told him about Vhagar and the dragons.

It was almost a sweet moment they shared, but with his stillness and tenseness, she tried to whisk him towards the bed. A soft smile on her lips, moving her hair around and already making a lurid sound, she stopped when Aemond didn't follow her. ,,I didn't want to disappoint you," he said suddenly, his violet eye looking at the floor for the first time.

Seeing how she immediately changed again she listened, trying to figure out what had happened. ,,You can never let me down," she murmured, taking her hands off him and walking to the bed alone instead, leaving it up to him if he wanted to keep talking, if his violet eyes were detached from the green in her dress, the image of his mother screaming at him.

Meanwhile, the muffled thud of pillows and furs could be heard in front of the lit fireplace in which the dark wood was burning. She sat down on the furs, her legs apart and her fingers gently, almost carefully, stroking the green fabric from her shoulders. I'll take you again and again. Her body dancing through the flames cast shadows that were slowly taken over by Aemond.

She showed him her upper body, the bare skin the sapphire necklace seemed to be the only thing still covering her, the look in her eyes invitingly caring...motherly.

Waiting for him on the fell, her arms outstretched to him, his name spilling from her lips, ,,Ameond...my darling...come here" she brought to him knowing that he wanted and needed the flattery, the praise. Knew that she could give him what he needed, even if she didn't yet know what had happened, she would find out.

Slowly, almost appathetically, he reached for the top layer of his clothing, opening the heavy leather and the expensive dark fabrics to let the cloak fall to the floor. ,,Your darling," he murmured and she saw the flash of his gemstone as he came closer to her, slowly kneeling down in front of her still expecting a blow.

But instead her hands went to his light-colored hair, twisting a few strands back and forth before she combed her fingers through it. ,,You smell of fire and smoke... have you been flying on Vhagar again?" she asked, her eyes closed, trying to feel his reaction a little, knowing that she would only trigger more nervousness in his gaze.

A question, an everyday life, an everyday life with a protector, caring, motherly, full of empathy. He felt himself slowly stop trembling, probably imagining that everything would be all right again while she was asking him. ,,Yes, we were on our way to Storm's End," he revealed after a moment of silence, hearing him exhale almost shakily, and she knew that Storm's End was the seat of House Baratheon, even a whore had a knowledge that was due in no small part to her.

A long flight of revenge and duty. Leaning forward slightly, she let one hand wander over his shoulder to his chest while her other hand continued to play with his hair.

She skillfully and slowly began to undo the buttons and the shuttles, making small noises that were drowned out by the crackling of the fire. ,,Tell me Storm's End is far away my dear, was there a reason?" she asked quietly and slowly slipped the top off his body, pulling it down his beautiful almost porcelain-like body over the small and larger scars from fighting and the cold.

But as soon as the clothes came off, she felt him tremble again as if he had the shivers. ,,Shhh not yet I'm here mother is here dear" she whispered to him giving him a gentle kiss on his sleep still playing with his hair as she began to kiss his neck and back.

Sensed that it had probably happened on Storm's End, that the smell of fire and smoke couldn't just be Vhagar, that the rain had left a few drops on him. What had happened in the air that night?

She paused again for a moment as Aemond moved slightly, she saw him lift his hips slightly to remove the leather trousers, tossing the piece carelessly into the room and yet not turning to her.

The prince slowly lay down by her again, but she didn't ask him to do anything else. She watched him, seeing his features only slightly shadowed by fire, knowing that his violet eye was coated with softness while the gemstone still flashed. ,,Stay with me, never leave me," he demanded, his hand reaching behind him to grasp hers and she sensed he was still reaching for something she wasn't aware of. She didn't have the same coldness as her, she didn't have the same life traits as her...she wasn't what had given birth to him.

She was not the woman who could beat him with a single word, a single lift of her voice...but she was a woman who came closer, a substitute for the prince who longed for love.

,,I'll never leave you Aemond, I'll stay with you right here and you'll stay in my lap with me where nothing happens...what happens doesn't matter, you understand?" she asked, exerting a barely perceptible pressure on his body, making him lie down slowly, stretching out her legs so that he could position his head correctly in her lap.

She could finally see his face when he wanted to, but he could also turn away from her at any moment. But he decided to look at her, she saw him looking at her with something like loss in his eye as she continued to play with his hair. She saw how needy he was, how needy he was in her lap.

He needed it after his journey after his flight after his anger had made him do something.

She heard him inhale almost shakily as his body shifted slightly into a fetal position and she stroked his hair again. ,,I-I...killed Lucerys," he admitted, silent tears flowing down his cheeks and he closed his eye, taking in her eagerness for a second before she relaxed again and leaned forward to embrace him in his prone position.

His hands holding onto him over the scars and old wounds, her own fingers stroked over his body, twitching to tell her when to stop or continue. The prince was someone she found joy in wanting to take care of, it was a love for him. Your jewel is mine.

And he continued to close his eyes, trying to erase the memories of his nephew, the boy who disfigured him and he got no revenge. ,,It was an accident...nothing more it will all be over my lovely...let it go" she whispered to him letting his hands continue to wander over his body stroking over scars hearing his sigh and slowly moving towards his center letting his mind wander for a moment before she began a few gentle strokes.

He felt a sigh mingling with a sob as his fingers clutched at her legs and neck and he pressed against her, trying to forget the horrible scene and all the pain inside him. Letting the mix of hatred and anger mix with excitement and lust.

He bit his lip, not wanting to let out a soft sound that would make him feel like it was his own fault if he heard himself ,,Shhh it's okay, let it go" she reminded him, her other hand wandering gently over his face, intertwining with his hands, feeling him tremble slightly as her hand on his cock lightly passed over the tip for the drops of pleasure to gather and the lustful noises in the room intensified alongside the distant music.

,,Mhh I-I uhg didn't want it," he murmured, moving his hips lightly with her gentle, quiet pace as she felt him cry, moving him lightly back and forth like a mother moving a baby back and forth in her arms, talking to him while she continued to make physical love to him.

,,I know you didn't want it...I'm not angry or disappointed Ameond" she assured him, placing gentle kisses on his head as he continued to press against her, more lustful sounds escaping his lips and tears wetting his cheeks.

She picked up the pace and lifted her hand from his lap, taking her time to let him know she was there, ,,The sight of Lu-Luce he," Aemond murmured again as he glanced at a velvety red pillow and moved into her lap, his legs resting slightly above hers and his head tucked into the crook of her neck, her hand continuing to stimulate him as she kept reassuring him that everything would be alright while he moved his hips harder and harder, his fingers digging into the fabric of the blankets and pillows.

,,I know, but I'm here, you're the prince, nothing will happen," she kept talking to him as she watched him open his closed eyes, his pink cheeks flushed with lust and his lips curled up to look at her as he sighed into the kiss and she made a sound of pleasure herself as he turned slightly and let his lips trail over her torso.

He kept kissing her and his anger and hatred, his sadness and worry seemed to slowly disappear and louder and louder noises left his lips, which were easily suppressed by the sucking on her breast. The king and prince fascinated by one and the same jewel.

He didn't know that he had the same calm expression as the king when he was in her arms but it didn't matter, she cared for the one-eyed prince, her good boy who only needed his mother one way or another, ,,I'm sorry-I'm sorry mother," she heard him murmur and saw him look briefly at her, showing a kindness and understanding that drew him into another kiss and she felt him approach his climax.

She nodded assuring him that all was well and saw his face show the mix of shame, fear, lust and pure devotion it was pure beauty. Beauty for which she was and will always be with him because she knew he would come back he was a dog of the king with the mark of a dragon.

A young man fascinated by his uncle and holding deep feelings for his nephew who is better than him beyond death in a way Aemodn could never be.

But most of all he was dependent on her, he got no care from the Dowager Queen and every time he came back to her she loved him that she knew he would come back. ,,I always love you my dear Aemond...and now let go and rest and dream of memories and times past" she commanded him as she saw the anger in his confused mind penetrate him and he let out another whimper before his body stirred slightly and he clawed at her before he poured himself into her hand with a loud moan.

She still held him through his high point, stroking his head and giving him a sort of goodnight kiss as a lullaby came over her lips and she wiped her hand on the pillows before covering herself and him with a blanket.

She felt how it took a few moments before the pain relaxed completely and, at least for a few hours, a sleep that did not make him wake up with guilt and fear in the arms of a woman, a woman who could show him affection.

She would always be his jewel, and she was prepared to accept that if the sapphire broke, she would always be there to pick up the pieces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@ladythornofrivia , @omgsuperstarg , @girlypieee , @fadingbatmuffindonkey , @mymoonempress

[todorokis-girl]

I Never Knew You Were Alive - Soulmate AU (IV) NSFW

Chapter IV: What are we doing?

No actual dabi in this one

Chapter I: So it starts Chapter II: A late arrival Chapter III: belive of be doomed Chapter IV: What are we doing? Chapter V: Last minute encounter Chapter VI: Deciding to fall in love with you

masterlist

Next Chapter

This one is smut...there's really nothing else to say.... There's a lot of self indulgence here. I am so sorry.

The following months were fraught with tension, especially whenever her missions hinted at any involvement with the League of Villains. The delicate and precarious relationship with Touya weighed heavily on her mind, and she was acutely aware of the potential danger it posed not just to herself but to civilians and fellow heroes. Despite her best efforts to avoid him, it was impossible to escape his shadow entirely.

Surprisingly, they bumped into each other a few times after their initial encounter. These meetings were fleeting, marked by brief, silent exchanges of glances rather than words or violence. The first time she saw him again was during one of her nightly walks. The city was shrouded in darkness, and the air was crisp and cold. She was passing through a dimly lit alley when she felt his presence and spotted him from the corner of her eye. Her heart raced as their eyes met. He stood at the far end of the alley; his silhouette framed by the faint glow of a distant streetlamp.

The second encounter was during a mission. She was part of a covert operation to gather intelligence on a rumored League hideout. The abandoned warehouse was eerily quiet, the air thick with anticipation. As she moved through the shadows, she sensed him before she saw him. He was watching her from a distance, his intense gaze burning into her. She froze, her heart pounding in her chest. But just like the previous encounter, he made no move to harm her. He simply watched, his eyes filled with a mixture of intensity and something she couldn't quite decipher.

With each silent encounter, the tension between them grew, a palpable force that was impossible to ignore. The air seemed to crackle with electricity whenever he was near, and she found herself both drawn to and terrified of him. The sexual tension was undeniable, a magnetic pull that she didn't know how to handle. She was even more confused, as along with this sensation, the threat he had made to her loomed over her every thought. 

Touya’s physical presence was overwhelming. His tall, lean frame exuded a raw, almost dangerous charisma. His pale skin contrasted starkly with his dark, tousled hair, which framed his angular face. His eyes, a vivid shade of turquoise, were piercing and intense, holding a depth of emotion that belied his villainous persona. The scars that marred his skin only added to his allure, a testament to the pain and suffering he had endured. There was a rugged handsomeness to him, a dark allure that was impossible to resist. His voice, low and husky, sent shivers down her spine whenever she heard it. She had no idea if to attribute these thoughts to the fact that they were fated for each other, or simple raw attraction. 

The way he moved was almost predatory, graceful and confident, like a panther stalking its prey. She couldn't help but be captivated by him, despite the danger he represented. Every glance, every fleeting moment they shared was charged with an intensity that left her breathless. The memory of his touch lingered on her skin, a reminder of the night he had threatened her.

This was definitely not something she could talk to Keigo about. It felt shameful to admit her attraction to a villain, but it was also understandable. Touya was her soulmate, her one true match. He was supposed to be the one person who could satisfy her and make her feel something real. The bond between soulmates was supposed to be unbreakable, a connection that transcended all else. But the reality of their situation was far more complicated.

She often found herself lost in thought, replaying their encounters in her mind. The memory of his touch, the intensity of his gaze, the way his presence made her heart race – it was all-consuming. She was caught in a web of conflicting emotions, torn between her duty as a hero and her undeniable attraction to him.

Late at night, she would lie awake, her mind racing with thoughts of him. She could still feel the heat of his hand around her neck, the way his breath had brushed against her skin. It was intoxicating, and she hated herself for wanting more. The thought of him consumed her, filling her dreams and waking moments alike. She yearned for him, despite knowing how dangerous that desire was.

He wasn’t just her soulmate, he was the enemy, the one threatening her students. What would Keigo think? Aizawa? Hell… what would hero society think if they found out? 

Yet, she couldn't deny the truth. Touya was her soulmate, and no matter how twisted their relationship, that bond remained. She could feel it in her very soul, a connection that refused to be severed. It was both a blessing and a curse, a source of both strength and torment. She was trapped in a dance with darkness, unable to escape the pull of the man who was supposed to be her other half.

As she navigated her missions and daily life, the tension never fully dissipated. It lingered, a constant reminder of the battle raging within her. She was determined to find a way to reach him, to make him see the truth of their bond. But each encounter left her more confused, more conflicted, and more desperate for answers. The path ahead was uncertain, and the stakes were higher than ever. But she couldn't give up. Not on him, and not on herself.

The last time before the cataclysmic event, she hadn’t gone out looking for him, but they found each other. She was returning from one of her rare midnight patrols, enjoying a can of iced coffee. The city was quiet at this hour, the usual hustle and bustle replaced by an eerie stillness. The streetlights cast long, dim shadows on the empty sidewalks, and the occasional car passed by, its headlights slicing through the darkness.

Tomorrow was Saturday, and she didn’t have to work, but she had a weekly meeting with her best friend and needed to grade some assignments. She sighed, knowing she needed a lot more than a can of iced coffee to keep her going. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the looming presence that had been tracking her.

She stopped in her tracks and slowly turned to look at the alleyway, carefully adjusting her vision to peer into the dark. The alley was narrow, lined with overflowing dumpsters and scattered debris, the smell of mold lingering in the air. After a couple of seconds, she could start making out his shape. His silhouette was unmistakable, even in the dim light. Then she saw his eyes, two burning points of blue in the darkness. They held each other's gaze, and she felt a lump form in her throat, a mix of fear and pent-up desire.

When she was about to step away, he finally approached her, stopping at the very edge of the alley, right at the line where he would be stepping out into the light. The faint glow from the streetlamp illuminated his features partially, highlighting the intensity in his eyes and the harsh lines of his face. His presence was imposing, and she could feel the heat radiating from his body even from a distance.

She took a sharp breath and braced herself, hoping today wouldn’t be the day she fought him, not in her current state. Her heart pounded in her chest, a rapid drumbeat of anxiety and anticipation.

“I’m not ready to talk, I don’t want to fight, I don’t trust you; I’m tired of the tension,” he said, his voice low and intense. His gaze held her captive, his eyes burning with unresolved emotions. Confused, she scrunched her eyebrows, wondering what she was meant to do. Her heart raced in her chest, the confusion still present.

“Let’s get rid of it,” he added, his words a dark, compelling command. Setting backwars into the alley, almost pulling her to follow him. 

And with that, she was convinced. She couldn’t deny the magnetic pull between them, the way his presence stirred something deep within her.

The narrow alleyway provided a cloak of secrecy, shielding them from prying eyes and the hustle of the city beyond. The faint glow of distant streetlights cast eerie shadows against the worn brick walls, adding to the clandestine atmosphere of their rendezvous. The air hung heavy with anticipation, thick with the scent of urban decay and the heady aroma of their shared desire.

The world around them disappeared as their bodies collided with a desperate need that had been building for months, probably years. The alley was a confined space, filled with the mingled scents of the city and their shared passion. The rough texture of the brick wall pressed against her back contrasted sharply with the heat of his body. His touch was both rough and tender, a confusing mix that left her craving more.

He roughtly pulled her sweater to rest above her breast and desperately pulled her bra downward to expose her breast, the sounds she made echoed in the confined space. At that moment, she couldn’t think even if she wanted to. Her mind was a haze of sensation and emotion, a whirlwind of heat and urgency. She could feel every scar, every line of his muscular form, and it drove her wild with a longing she couldn’t control.

Witth heavy breast and a hint of desperating, he lowered his pants to his waist and after urging her to be quick, grabbed her ass, and lifted her up to rest against the wall, held up by his arms; her legs around me. Her shorts and underware carefully dangling from her ankle. 

There was something taboo in this clandestine encounter, knowing they were not supposed to be together. She was his enemy; she was his soulmate.

His hand cupped her breast, his fingers tweaking her nipple. A gasp escaped her lips, a shiver running down her spine. It was as if electricity crackled in the air, the atmosphere crackling with tension and anticipation. Sweat dripped down their bodies, mingling between them, a testament to their overwhelming connection.

Heat pulsed through her veins, fueling the ravenous beast within. He whispered obscenities in her ear, probing her with his tongue, and she shivered at the filthy words.

"Fuck me, dammit," she cried out, her hips grinding against him. "Take me."

He echoed the sentiment, his voice raw and primal as he grabbed her and smashed her against the cold, unforgiving wall. The impact sent a jolt of pleasure through her limbs, echoing the primal core of their need.

His length throbbed between them, and with a violent thrust, he entered her. Their bodies moved in a syncopated rhythm, both in harmony and discord, a clash of need and fury.

"God, Touya," she moaned, her voice bouncing off the cold walls of the alley. Her head rolled backwards, hitting the surface with a dull thud. His name on her lips was a mix of love, fear, and lust, an intoxication that tasted sweeter than any drug could.

The pain of his grip on her hip, the primal frenzy of his thrusts as he invaded her: all of it fed that insatiable hunger within her. Her legs wrapped tighter around his waist as she took him deeper, each thrust forcing her closer to the edge.

"You like that?" Touya asked, his voice a low growl, savage and raw. The question sent a chill down her spine, and she couldn't help but nod eagerly. She wanted to give herself to him completely; she was beyond the point of shame or fear.

Her heart raced as he took her, his movements becoming stronger, urgent and intensifying with each passing moment. Her body shuddered around him, her walls clenching around his length as she met his rhythm.

Touya pulled on her hair, forcing her to arch her back, giving him better access to her heaving chest. He bent down to take a hard nipple into his mouth, sucking on it with a greed that made her cry out in pure bliss.

His other hand moved between their bodies, his thumb finding her swollen nub. Pressure and friction, a divine combination she couldn't resist. She bucked her hips, pressing herself harder against him, urging him on as her pleasure mounted.

"Don't stop," she panted. The sound of their bodies moving together reverberated through the alley, mingling with the distant sounds of the city.

Touya continued his sensual assault, driving her to the brink of madness. The tension built inside her, her core ached with anticipation. His moans on her ear were becoming maddening, aiding in the sensitivity and pleasure. 

Her body, wet and warm, clung to him. He groaned his satisfaction, his length fully sheathed inside her as he established a hard, insistent rhythm. She could hardly breathe, her ability to form words vanished as her senses heightened to a fever pitch.

The slap of their bodies echoed in the narrow confines of the alley, a reminder of their forbidden union. Her back remained glued to the icy bricks, while his hands roamed her body mercilessly. The mix of hot and cold on her skin sending her farther down her path. She was used to conflicting temperatures on her skin, but this time it made every inch of her body more aware. 

He cupped her breasts in his calloused palms, pinching her sensitive nipples with a cruel force that made her gasp. He growled, letting go of one nipple only to grip the other more fiercely. Her breathes quickened, each one panting out in rhythm with her growing need, she could feel herself getting closer, a white hot sensation running though up her spine skin. 

"God, Touya, I'm so fucking close," she cried, her voice hoarse. Her body trembled as her lips parted wider, gasping for air, her eyelids fluttering as the orgasm approached. Every thrust making her moans louder.

“Careful, someone might hear the little hero” He grinned, his lips curling up into a wicked smile, hearing her pleas drove him wild. Gripping her hips tight, he buried his thrusts deep inside her, relishing the sensation as his length pounded against her sensitive spot. Pleasure consumed her body as her walls closed around him, wet and greedy, demanding every inch he could give her. He felt her cum on his cock, and he saw her. Her eyes rolled back with one last moan, no, scream; twitching and she desperately looked for something to grab onto. 

He had no intentoon oh helping her lower her moans, it wasn’t exactly his problem whow saw. With a mischeavious lick of his lips he grabbed her hips again, knowing she hadn’t finished her orgasm and continued to thrust into her. 

He was close to his own orgasm, and he was gonna use her to finish even if she couldn’t take it anymore. He made sure to watch her, sounds wilder and louder as he speed up closing on his own high. 

With one deep groan, he attached his teeth to her shoulder, near the baase of her neck, bitting as hard as he could, finishing himself off deep inside her. 

"This. Is. Fucking. Insane," she managed to pant as she carefully attempted to catch her breath, she looked into his eyes studying him carefulluy "What are we even doing?" She didn’t understand what she was doing, and to be quite frank, she was yet to figure out how she felt about it… emotionally. 

"Savoring. Each. Other." He ground out in response, between his own harsh breaths. His tongue traced the shell of her ear before he nipped at her earlobe. She gasped, her body responding to his touch like he was a drug she couldn't get enough of.

"You liked that, didn't you?" he whispered, his voice thick with desire. She moaned, her legs involuntarily shuttering around him. He pressed himself against her, his hardness throbbing against her core, a reminder of the intimacy they shared and the larger connection that lay between them.

He took in the bite he had left on her, red and angry, and licked it. It was gonna leave a mar, and it was going to bruise; and he wasn’t going to let her forget any of this. 

She gruided her hands under his shirt. Her hands trailed between his toned abs and up to his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles underneath ripple. She took the moment, and the opportunity to study his scars, and soutures and how the alternating textures felt on her skin, allowig herself the oportunity to familiarize herself with the warmth of his body, almost memorizing his temperature; who knew when she’d have the oportunity to do this again (more like who knew, if she would allow herself to do this again). It was a moment of intimacy unlike any other, a fleeting connection between two souls bound by fate, one that she increasingly though would never stick. 

But even as she reveled in the sensation, permitting herself the moment of intimacy, a part of her couldn't shake the nagging doubt that lingered at the back of her mind. She knew what this was, and the moment he decided he got his fill, she had to run. 

She didn’t look up at him, but he studied her carefully, he was just as confused as she was. He had never felt the desire for anyone that he had felt for her, and he needed to know why. Now that he knew, it terrefied him, this wasn’t about love or even wanting to have anything with his soulmate; he just couldn’t stand the tension any longer.

As she leaned back against the brick wall, using it for support, Touya couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt wash over him. He had allowed himself to be drawn into this moment of vulnerability, to let down his guard and succumb to the allure of her touch. And now, as they stood there in the darkness, he couldn't help but wonder what it all meant.

She swallowed, her breath finally staying, as she quickly pulled on her clothes back on properly. She was moving quicker than she though she could and felt her eyes begging to water, finally, after a moment of calm the current reality swallowing her whole. 

“Thank you; for…” She used her hands to sort of half haeartedly signal to the encouter; and he looked at her uninterested. 

“Leave” he finalized adjusting his own clothes and began to walk away, she didn’t know how to feel or why; and as much as she expected and knew this would be the reaction, it still hurt her.

He himself was confused, but he knew, even if he wanted to belive her, even if he trusted her, even if he begged for it; they could never really be together. He didn’t know if she understood their circumstances, but one day it’s click. He was sure of it. 

tags: @staygoldsquatchling02

[ellouchi]

Yet again I see people mischaracterizing Jimmy as some jerk who lashes out on people for no reason and berates them for anything minor like where did you get this from did you actually read any dialogues in the game????????

Jimmy really only threw one shade at Daisuke, he didn't think he was spoilt rich kid he just said he was covered by his parents because he had support system unlike all of them grown up adults. Most of times Jimmy just awkwardly slid off silly things Daisuke said, like the ladies comment or when they were mixing the drink. Daisuke actually trusted and listened to Jimmy throughout the game (to his own detriment unfortunately). Jimmy sent him to the vent because he was the captain and he wasn't going to do the dirty job obviously and if the Swansea somehow woke up Jimmy could shift the blame like he had already got away with. Even when eventually things went to shits we don't see him blaming Daisuke because Jimmy recognised that it was his decision to send him there. Jimmy didn't want to fatally injure him, he tried to "fix it later" which didn't help at all and Jimmy felt guilty about it.

Jimmy treated Anya dog shit half the time it's true but not to the extent some people make it to be. He loves control, he has said so to Curly's face, to ours and that's why he made sure to put her down and belittle her. That's why he (potentially repeatedly) sexually assaulted Anya — because rape is form of power play, he didn't even want her sexually. Initially, Jimmy didn't hate Anya, he just didn't like her and the feeling was mutual. He continued to do bare minimum for her, like when checking up on the crew. If I had to guess how Jim viewed her by the end, then he most likely found her inferior, incompetent, always putting work on his shoulders (or responsibilities he didn't want (pregnancy)), together with being paranoid of her having the potential to ruin his life. That's why he got so pissed off when he saw her crying to Swansea, very likely having already told another person of what he has done. (I'm 100% sure he holds the grudge for telling Curly, who then rushed to "fix things", making Curly seem like a responsible captain which Jim hated.)

Jimmy never made any attempts at understanding or sympathising with Swansea. He knew him longer than Daisuke yet the latter understood him better. Jimmy probably thought that Swansea was an old grumpy man who hated everyone and everything. As the game went on Jimmy just considered Swansea to be nothing but a selfish drunkard (due to immediately assuming he was hoarding cryopod to himself). After the vent incident who Jim blames for the absence of medicine? If Swansea wasn't so stubborn (for like, few times) Jimmy wouldn't have need to spend prescious recourses on him. He could have saved Daisuke instead and fix his fuck up but Swansea ruined it twice. Swan doing arguably the right thing by putting out Daisuke out of his misery only solidified his role as a villain and a threat in Jimmy's eyes, that's why probably as a revenge (for not giving him enough time to think) he went for the gun instead of cryopod like Swansea allowed him to.

And finally Curly. Honestly this deserves a separate book on it's own at this point. It's almost 3 a.m. here so I'll only mention some stuff. Jim aggressively lashes out twice on-screen, first time because he literally lost his dream job, listened to Curly "bitching about having said dream job" and couldn't come face to the fact that Curly was "abandoning him while also looking unscratched from the fall of the ladder" while Jimmy will return to his struggle of life (he didn't even know about the pregnancy yet...). Second time was when Anya endangered Jim's new status as a captain and like I mentioned reminded him that she could fuck up his life even more. Feeling like he was losing control, Jimmy beat up poor Curly who was stripped out of said control by non other than Jimmy. Finally, he was violent off screen by destroying Polle, out of frustration, irritation from the thing, and/or hatred and resentment for the company (que "Pony express is dead" line). In one instance he says "He's mocking us" which confirms that it's about Jimmy's ego.

In conclusion STOP MAKING MY SHITTY CHARACTER SHITTY IN THE WRONG WAYS. This isn't even a full blown analysis of Jimmy's character but accumulation of posts I read and conclusions I came with.

Focus on his already preexisting shitty qualities stop making up new ones ffs signing out.

[perpetuallyboo]

Is it insane for me to get emotional about Dang Litefoot? Let me get insane over Dang for a moment.

I know a lot of more emotionally intense moments in D20 are kind of stepped past and not taken in impact continuing on from it so I am simply left to go insane by myself. I already really liked Dang from the start with his very easy fuck authority attitude and his being a presumably struggling older teenager/young adult-I mean come on he's living in his uncles shed, it can't be said he has a great situation. So, already, I really liked him and found some relatability- also the sort of disheveled outgrown dyed hair reminded me quite a lot of people I've seen on T for awhile and I was personally quite happy to see that.

And clearly, Dang's familiar with being an outcast. However much his belief in Rashab goes, its clearly something precious to him that brings him a Peace and Comfort- how he got through the initial getting into the game so smoothly as the others struggle was holding true to his belief. It was both very funny for the insanity of the bits and the comedy in it but something I very much enjoyed that he had some sort of grounding- and then getting just absolutely punched in the gut by having it confirmed how much of an outcast Dang has been and how Lonely he is. Standing away from the group as they shop and recount, thinking about that horrible hope he must have had that his friends might take him seriously, might actually Respect him, since clearly theres insane magic shit thats REAL in the world with this insane thing they all went through together- that theres a chance they'll take him seriously.

Being so clearly not- Respected about this thing that's so important to him. Even with how nice russell and wendell were, clearly still finding him insane and not paying the thought to try and take him Seriously, ask him any questions about his belief or how its helped him, how he feels about this all-

Of course it sounds insane, out of character thats a big part of the bit. But it cements how no matter what- Dang is an outcast. No matter what insane shit happens to other people, something that can bond and get a group together like nothing else could- Dangs still alone.

Not to mention the immediately jumping to absolutely horrible coping mechanisms, getting drunk and sleeping with strangers. Its just- its the fact it all happened, that loneliness, going to those unhealthy coping mechanisms, almost dying, and then just- continuing on. Coming back. Not even mentioning what had happened to the others like hey I just almost died- the fucking cutting away to Paula talking about his "Stupid Rashab thing"

IMJUSTTT Im just I feel so insane im getting so emotional over Dang Litefoot and i want to give him a fucking hug and say I'd love to talk with him and understand him more and also hey lets talk about some healthier coping mechanisms buddy alright okay youre doing so good im fuckin sobbing