#and i get assigned to a certain time slot

[dwtdog]

8am classes are evil but so are 9 am classes and i still have to plan my schedule the only thing i have gotten done is declaring my major. but im still deciding a minor and if i want to also major in education which idk about

rn my earliest class is 11 and i am THRIVING i sleep in every day feel awake for class it's so perfect. now next semester, i get assigned classes that don't start until 12:30 and end at 5 like fuuuuuck that's too late 😭

planning schedules in general is so hard 😭 gl with urs :3

[dilftaroooo]

Being perverted strikes naturally within Gojo, so when the idea of being a step brother comes to mind during sex he can’t help but act upon the roleplay. You think he’s gross for it, but his questionable passion for it keeps you engaged (oddly enough).

☆word count: 6.3k+

★tags/tw(18+): dark content + stepc*st roleplay + foot f*tish + toe sucking (f!recieving) + dubcon (because reader is unsure at first) + reader is college-aged/gojo is 28 + squirting + age gap + vanilla sex + pubic hairs + scent kink + implied ass eating + hesitancy + reader is afab using she/her pronouns + mentioned latex kink + use of 'satoru-nii' + established relationship + gojo is a lil' mean + and sassy + lots of kissing + nipple play + creampie + getting caught having s*x + exploring kinks + praise kink + pet names + skull fucking + gag reflex + snot + we're talkin' 'big beefy whore with black compression shirt' gojo here + reader is a bit inexperienced + questions of certain kinks.

☆a/n: hey alexa, play 'poundtown by sexyy red' ayyye come suck a bitch's toooes. enjoy y'all, this shit nasty af.

You’re not a kink shamer.

You understand the sexual thrills of getting off to something that turns one on to the point of fulfilled ecstasy–weighted breaths and skin coated with a sheen of sweat from the unorthodox fantasies that provoke the human mind and manipulate the human body, keeping them bound to the shackles of pleasure as their perversion engulfs them whole. It feels beautiful–ethereal, dare you say, and you get that. Who wouldn’t want to feel blissfully satisfied just by mere thought alone? 

Now, exclusive of the deranged fetishes involving children, scat, or whatever fucked up shit out there that's befitting for a lowlife, you would say that you're a pretty open-minded individual. Always tolerating the naughty anecdotes told by your friends’ concerning their past hookups, distinctively remembering the giggles you all shared when reciting one of the stories from a particular friend that had them clad in a latex suit, lips decorated with ruby red, and three-inched heels coming into contact with the cheek of their previous partner as they squirmed in shameless arousal.

‘It was pathetic to see, but I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t get me going…’ And that mutuality between both parties is what makes it even more fun. They both get a kick out of something they enjoyed, so what’s to hate about it?

You’re not a kink shamer–not at all.

You and your boyfriend of a year and four months, Satoru Gojo, always carried the qualities of a couple depicted in unrealistic romance movies: the nuzzle of the nose that tickled your cheek before delving in for a peck, the surprise hugs he’d startle you with as you prepared an early morning breakfast, as well as the intertwined fingers while you both make your way to his favorite bakery (his kisses are even more sugared after scarfing down the kikufuku he’d order no more than a minute ago).

You always felt like the princess to his prince, stumbling over your gown to keep up with his hurried footsteps as you both venture through the gracious evergreen of a mythical forest. You have no time to remove the pastel violet and pink petals slotting themselves in your locks since your hand remains occupied with Satoru’s, moving exquisitely to the melodic song of the nightingales. It was a dream from a childhood storybook.

Moreover, what was revealed in public was, undoubtedly, the same in the comfort of your bedroom, living at your university’s on-campus apartment that you shared with two indifferent roommates. He would frequently stop by after work to spoil you with his affection. Always asking how your day was and whether or not you finished your assignments.

He was a tad bit older than you–twenty-eight and going, but you didn’t mind the age gap, it gives you all the more reason to tease him for his ‘old’ age, to which he responds with a pout and furrowed eyebrows, ‘Oh, how mean! Who would’ve ever thought that my darling angel could be such a devil…?!�� He’d say with faux anguish. He knows you’re only playing around–such the jokester.

Though, he couldn’t say the same for you in bed. Protected by the warmth of your sheets, you relished at how accustomed your body and soul were to his heartfelt transactions, vanilla-flavored sex, so sweet and tasteful on your tongue as he kissed you with want. Tongues twirling a sensual dance as your lips combine in rhythmic harmony. You also loved it when he coos in your ear, reminding you of how you’re so good to him before wrapping his lips around puffy areolas in a way that makes you writhe.

He’s so gentle with you. Handling a fine china cabinet with the utmost care, he makes sure he touches you in ways that wouldn’t break your fragile body. And when your nude skin presses against his as a result of his thrusts to your core, he reminds himself to get you moaning in his ear and get your hands gripping against the muscular curvature of his back.

It feels good. It always feels good. So, why does a part of you feel…bored?

The love is there, you won’t question that. When you come, you feel as though you’re one with the stars. And above all, he praises you. It’s nothing new, but in this context, you like to be his ‘pretty girl’ whenever the tip of his nose pushes against your wet clit. So, why do you feel like something is missing? You don’t know.

You haven’t been in many relationships. The last one you remember was in high school, dating a boy who only loved you out of teenage fever, and you shamefully admit that you reciprocated his confession. You were both young and unknowing of what the aspects of ‘love’ really meant. You never went past the boundary of hand-holding and cheek-kissing, so it remained stagnant until the moment you both broke up.

None of it was mutual, however. You can recall how distraught you were as you bawled in your mother’s arms, asking her what you did wrong while she soothed you with maternal pets to the crown of your head. That being said, it’s safe to say that you really don’t know what’s missing from you and your boyfriend’s intercourse–like, really.

But, thankfully, Satoru makes up for what you lack, telling you not to fret since he knows a lot and letting you know how much he’s been wanting to get to this point of intimacy with you–wanting to whisk his girlfriend away from the comfort zone that you’ve grown so attached to.

Satoru is without exception, enthusiastic to portray more during times of intercourse, yearning to teach you more than just the fluffy, domestic sex you both indulge in. It’s lovely and all, bleh bleh, whatever, Satoru gets it, but, man, what he wouldn’t do to see you on your knees, between his sinewy thighs parted for your form as he hovers above you, your head tilted upwards to take in his thick shaft through wet lips.

He’d make sure his red, throbbing tip hits the back of your throat so he can hear that sickening gag scurry out your mouth paired with the sloppy froth of your saliva slapping against his heavy balls with each quick thrust. He’d be too occupied to find the snot dribbling from your nose revolting because you’d be taking him in so deep.

That’s forever been his little fantasy–that amongst the vast amount of others. And to try each and every one of them with you would be a delight.

After you confessed to Satoru, you couldn’t help but notice how peculiar his ministrations started to get. It was gradual–starting with spanks on your ass to eating said ass. You’ll even bring up the time he used your feet to get off. It caught you off guard, you’d admit.

That day he had you pliable–on your knees with the left apple of your cheek flushed in the pillow beneath you and arms resting idly on your sides as you allowed your enthralled boyfriend to take the lead.

You assumed he was just gonna spit on your already-soaked pussy before massaging your puffy clit in the teasing, clockwise motions he likes to test you with, cock oozing with leakage before languidly gliding upwards to push in-between your cunt lips, but what you didn’t assume he’d do was trace his slimy precum against the soft skin of your toes to then rub his tip across your soles.

You tried to retract your feet away from him (toes wiggling in the process which had them accidentally graze across his balls. You could’ve sworn you heard him hiss) and protest his weird behavior but Satoru was already three steps ahead, firmly gripping both feet and nearly squishing them together if it wasn’t for the thick base of his cock preventing them from touching.

Each thrust he made ached with raw fervor and fuck him from being incapable of suppressing his passion because he couldn’t help but look down and see your cute pussy pucker and asshole twitch. What a sight for sore, cerulean eyes. Just as sore as your ass after he slapped it with an ever-so-firm hand, silently thanking his calluses for the rough impact.

He found it adorable how your shimmering entrance craved for insertion, winking rhythmically at him as though it’s saying, ‘Please fill me up, ‘toru! ‘M so lonely without you…’ (he chuckles to himself at the personification when done in a high-pitched tone).

But your pussy always gets his attention. You have another hole too, ya’ know–one that sits right above it, unused and virginal. Just imagine his excitement as he leans forward, cock still buried at the innermost part of your feet, to take a closer look. He’d smile at your coyness when you felt his hot breath blow on your skin, unsure of his next move.

In this new position, he can trace the faint smell of sweat emerging from you, and God, does that turn him on. More than it already does. So of course he had to steal a taste, trailing a fat strip of saliva against the rim, you squeal at the warm and wet feel of his tongue touching a place it had never been before,

“S-Satoru…what the fuck!” You jolted before moving from your position, migrating to any spot as long as it's far from your lover. You’ll never forget the sleazy look on Satoru’s face as both corners of his rosy lips tilt upwards for a cocky grin–yuck.

It grossed you the fuck out.

Not in a way that antagonizes your boyfriend, you love him too dearly to feel as such, but in a way that questions his morals. Why on earth would someone like Satoru want to be minimized to using the bottom of your soles for pleasure or savor the briny taste of sweat that builds up around the tight ring of your ass? I-I mean, you excrete from there, for God’s sake! That’s gross, especially in a place where the sun doesn’t shine.

You understand that he likes doing it, but why? How could something so perverse and dirty get him hard so quickly? Where’s his shame? His humiliation? His guilt? Were they not present whenever he sneaks a lick at your toes?

Perhaps you are trying to understand–who wouldn’t want to indulge in their lover’s feet, to caress the tough surface of their heels, and lead up their toes, to draw soft lines against them with plush lips as their medium before dipping them inside the wet cavern of their mouth and sucking the small digits before swirling their tongue and–ugh!–no! No, no, no, that’s sick! How can one do such a thing with ease? You can’t possibly imagine that.

But you’re not a kink shamer…right?

Your question remains unanswered, though, as you’re interrupted by Satoru’s moistened kisses trailing down the curve of your neck. You must’ve been in your daze for quite some time considering that the camisole top and loose shorts you lounge in took their positions on your bedroom floor. 

“Come back to me, baby.” You hear your boyfriend murmur and you deliberately oblige by running your digits through the white sea of his mane, wild and free as your fingers feather against his roots. He hums with love before leaving a kiss that's sloppier than the previous one. It starts with your usual routine, with soft and tenderhearted sex.

He pecks at your clavicle and you whimper in return as silvery lashes tickle the most sensitive areas of your skin. The passionate atmosphere continues to flow within the four walls of your room–containing your moans and your kisses and your touches, reverberating them in your heated figures while filling you both with distinct pleasure. It was good so far.

“Have any ideas in mind for tonight, sweetheart?” His voice is muffled as he joyfully sucks at the skin between the valley of your breasts, teeth clasping over the hot flesh to induce a mark darker than what your skin tone provides. You hold onto the fabric of his black shirt, soundlessly wondering why he is still garbed in unbreathable polyester while you remain bare save from your panties.

Lolling your head to the side in thought, you dwell on his question. Should you have something in mind? This isn’t the same as getting asked where to eat for dinner, per se. And owning to your inexperience with sex and fetishes, you’re incapable of bringing anything to the table in this sense.

You open your jaw, mouth filled with saliva due to the raunchy actions performed by your boyfriend onto your supple body, ready to speak your retort as you lick your chapped lips in preparation, but, Satoru knows you better than you know yourself.

“Yeah, I know you don’t,” It’s like he was born to study you. Your eyes travel to his person again, orbs resting upon Satoru’s scalp as you wait for him to finish. “Nothing in that gorgeous head of yours. It’s okay, though. I don’t blame you. I know an amateur like you wouldn’t have anything planned.” 

As might be expected, your brow raises at his comments slightly glazed with a patronizing drip, it’s gotten your attention, all right, as you turn your head to glare down at him. He’s sucking on your nipples this time and you forge a jerk but don’t falter, perked up by this newfound attitude from your loving partner.

“Oh?” You start and it carries the same uppity weight as his tone. “And I suppose you have it all figured out?”

He nods right after gazing up at you with arctic globes saturated with a heavy rush of sincerity and you can already feel the dreamy sigh materializing in your throat but never emerging. Satoru immediately sniffed out the indignance behind your words like a trained bloodhound. He rises from his spot upon your heaving chest to travel his way to the swoll of your chin, apologizing with a quaint kiss. 

“I do,” His smile is affectionate. “You know I always do, sunshine.” You gasp once something hard nudges against your squishy thighs before poking the outermost part of your panties.

“-Always think of something for that little cunt.” It isn’t long before it's cast to the side for clear access to your glimmering slit, doused in slick because your boyfriend had a remarkable way of handling you. He didn’t miss the embarrassed mewl of his name when he used filthy words.

He also didn’t miss the pull of air you took in as his thick finger swept up your bodily remnants, coating the fingertips of his middle and ring finger. You voluntarily buck your feeble hips in desire for him to push through your entrance but you know he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily. “You know, it gets me going when we do stuff like this when others aren’t around–when we do something so forbidden.” 

What–?

“Forbidden…?” Each syllable muddles your tongue as you ponder on its meaning: something that typically isn’t allowed or accepted–you’re not unaware, it’s a simple word, but is that the word he meant to say? “Why would it be forbidden? You’re my boyfriend, are you not?” Unless there’s something you’re unknowing of.

Perhaps he has a wife that he kept hidden in the shadows of his past. What if one wife turned into several wives? Maybe he’s a bloodthirsty murderer, ready to indulge in his next killing after getting you to trust his charming blue eyes and pink-liped smile. You don’t exactly know what the forbidden aspect of it all that he’s keeping from telling you-

You hear him ‘tsk’ and you assume it was meant to be taken seriously but it seems covered in mockery.

“Hah, Boyfriend? Have you no shame?” And he chuckles deep and grimy. “Don’t act like don’t know, dear.” You honestly don’t. “What would our parents think if they saw you, my sweet, little sister, grinding her greedy pussy against her older brother’s fingers?”

Oh.

Oh God.

Gritting your teeth for an evident cringe, you hurriedly toss your head to the side to break eye contact (how did he even manage to hold it for that long despite what he just said?!). There’s no way he’s doing this. Out of all kinks…

“For the love- Satoru. Stop, that’s fucking-” A sharp whine halts your sentence, stressed to the point of exaggeration. You don’t bother looking back up at him, already imagining his brows creasing with complaint at your disgusted remark.

“Ehh, what happened to ‘Satoru-nii’?” You almost would’ve forgotten the fingers sketching light circles on your sensitive button, going in for a pinch before tapping it aimlessly due to its slippery surface.

You clench your thighs together but Satoru’s heaping form prevents you from doing so. He’s a big mass of muscle reminiscent of a bull–broad shoulders along with thickened veins peeking through tough skin in the forms of streams, carrying the pulsing blood flow of adrenaline and transporting through each significant section of the body to energize his raging carnality.

“Are my fingers dwindling your vocabulary already? I just started using this pussy, sugar plum.”

A part of you wanted to believe he was joking–trolling like he usually does on literally every occasion. He knows how acquiescent you were in situations like these. So easily obedient to follow his golden rule when clinging to his hip, taking full advantage of your attributes to get you to do the perverted shit that spoiled his brain to corruption.

Of course, there’d be times when you’d retaliate, shouting out a brief ‘no’ before leaving the conversation unfinished, but it’s okay because he can butter you up to your good side. Use his words and his hands to do the convincing. Satoru has attributes of his own too.

But gazing into his eyes and seeing how aquatic blue dissolves into crimson red, only driven by lust, tells you he’s serious.

You look off to the side once more because staring at your nightstand is more soothing than staring at your deviant boyfriend. Out of all kinks, why this one?

“I don’t,” You close your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself free from his piercing glare. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” You weren’t about to do this. You weren’t about to play into his wicked fantasies of being a relative of any sort. That doesn’t sound appealing at all.

“Don’t be like that, babe.” He mutters softly as if other people were in the room, prying with open ears to catch whatever dialogue is being transmitted between the two of you. A fingertip taunts at your sloppy entrance, just barely shoving past its tight grip. Sexual anticipation surged through your core at his ministration (his giggles at your hopelessness didn’t help you any). “You won’t know unless you try. Come on, do it for me?”

He’s too cute to refuse when your peripherals pick up his bottom lip raising upwards for a pout and feather-like lashes fluttering over glossy, blue orbs. Practically, begging you to follow through with this look alone–if only he wasn’t so handsome and used his charm against you in every way possible. God damn it-

“You’re sick, you know that?”

“Then you’re my antidote.”

You exhale in defeat since you unfortunately realize there’s no way out of this. Satoru’s too adamant to get you to play along with him, it’s insane. Turning your head to fully face him, which feels like the one-millionth time you’ve done so, you look him in the eye before aiming at the button of his nose, upturned and perky. Mentally getting ready to produce the God-forsaken words you are about to utter.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You start and the way Satoru’s face lights up like a kid on Christmas irks you. 

You still feel mortification swirl in your skull like second nature. Your cheeks feel hot and it hurts–were you really about to do this?

Satoru was still teasing you to no end. Teasing that doubtlessly wet pussy with expertise. He was killing you by not giving you what you craved, only remaining on the surface as he waited for your verdict. Just one more push, one more shove and you’ll get there.

“And why is that?” He inquires.

Your bottom lip quivers with hesitation before an erotic groan escapes you. He’s so close to putting them inside. “Because you’re-” You pause to wait for a sliver of courage to finish your sentence. You’re not sure if you can-

“...I’m?” He continues.

You both catch on to the shaky breaths you’re letting out, two separate bodies feeling two separate emotions, one agitated and the other electrified.

“You’re my,” You tense but Satoru loosens. “-my b-brother.” He’s the Cheshire cat as of now. You wail once two fingers invade your thirsty hole, entering with a mushy squelch.

“And what is it that we’re doing, huh? What is it that we’re doing that would be so revolting to the public eye, hm? Tell me.” Can he stop pushing you already, for crying out loud?

“You fingering my, my,”

“You got it, keep going.”

“...fingering my p-pussy.”

Satoru cherishes your hesitance and rewards you, his obedient puppy. 

Digits curl upwards in search of that sensitive g-spot resting amongst your gushy insides. If applied enough pleasure, he’d be able to see how your back arches off your cotton sheets. Your mouth opens for a silent scream as the force of his fingers supports the buildup of liquid passion, pounding the area in addition to his palm rubbing your stiff clit the deeper he goes.

“There you go, my sweet girl, my gorgeous, little sister.” He fingers you harder and sucks at your erect nipples–when did they get so hard? As a matter of fact, when did your body feel so hot and needy? As though you’re deprived of something. 

Your boyfriend sucks at your tit before biting the small nub, grazing his teeth along sensitive skin for a chomp, causing your hands to fly to his head and grip the fur of his undercut, all while wincing in pain. He retracts his head with your nipple still in his mouth, giving it a stern tug like an elastic rubber band. You would have cursed him out if it wasn’t for the fingers still beating at your nether regions.

“Ah, S-Satoru!” He bites harder and you remember his request from earlier. “Satoru-nii.”

As if you hear a winner's buzzer, he hums in approval and releases before gorging his lips around the other one, gently guzzling it this time, skillfully whirling his wet appendage around the nub in combination with hungry sucks. He unloosens with an obnoxious, wet pop!

“M’so glad your mom married my dad. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t be able to take care of my little sister’s pussy like how I’m doing now. Wouldn’t that be so sad?!” He inquires gleefully. “I’d be so miserable–jerking myself off to meaningless porn when I could be stuffing my big dick deep inside your aching cunt. Hearing you moan out how much you love your older brother for making you squirt your sticky juices all over me. You even got your hairs trimmed in the way you know I love.”

The sound of fabric grinding against fabric fills your ears as he maneuvers his head to reach down to your pelvis, stuffing his nose on top of the shortened pubes, his mouth hangs dangerously over your clitoris.

He takes in a deep breath like he’s smelling the fresh air of healthy trees and freshly cut grass, basking in your heady scent while feeling his cock go rigid in the plush of your mattress. 

Too aroused to feel embarrassed, you buck your hips so you can finally get his mouth on your itching button and he finally compels, switching between sucking in your clitoral hood and tonguing your labia. Satoru moves his fingers faster in hopes of provoking your climax. He knows your proximity by noting the way your thighs tremble and toes spread across your sheets.

You finally get to the stage you’ve been craving since the beginning of this session. Releasing your fluids onto your awaiting boyfriend, the grip at the nape of his neck more powerful than before, you squeal a brief ‘Satoru-nii!’ as he proceeds to lap at your overstimulated pussy. He’s now sparkling with your juices. Satoru sits up on his knees after wrapping his buff arm around the width of your shoulders to hoist you up and get you closer to his thighs, your figure remains seated as you process what he wants you to do–he wants you to suck him off.

So you lean your sweat-stained face over his clothed member and unwrap it like a Christmas present you’d save for last because it's so big. His cock springs up rudely and smacks at his now naked abdomen (when did he take off his shirt?) with a loud clap. His abs are so detailed and his pecks puff out in pride while he looks down on you, like his little servant.

He controls the length of his cock with a stern hand and traces ivory white lipstick over the plump of your mouth, a hazy web of precum connecting to your upper lip.

“Wrap those beautiful lips over my cock, darling angel. You know it makes me happy to see you stuffed full with my dick, no matter the hole.” He cheeses when he hears a quick scoff come out of you.

You listen anyhow, swallowing the tip of your big brother’s rod, hallowing your cheeks like a skeleton to circling your tongue around its rosy circumference. You feel your remaining cum dribble onto your bed when you hear him make a guttural moan from above. Clenching his ass cheeks as fingers place themselves on top of your head like an armrest, laying idly as of now.

“Oh shit, baby, yeah, just like that. Keep sucking me off juuust like that.” He bucks his hips impatiently once you decide to devour him up to the mid-base, continuing the actions of sucking in your cheeks to tighten around his cock. “Fuck!” He mewls before chuckling humorlessly.

He stares down and you look up. Your eyelids roll back til they’re just below your brow ridge to catch sight of azure undertones. You were just about to wonder why he was tittering until pressure made its way to both sides of your head. When his pearly white smirk twinkled under dim lighting, that's when you knew-

“Hmphh,” The noise was pitiful when subdued by the heavy weight of Satoru’s cock.

“Hold still, pretty girl.” He coos before pushing his hips back and applying the same manner to your head as he controlled you effortlessly and then thrusting forward and forcing your head to do the same. His balls slap on impact with your chin when he buries himself deep into the hot cavern of your throat, you have your nostrils planted on the silvery wisps of his pubes, reeking of potent masculinity. He leaves you in that position, powerless as he ignores the smacks to his meaty thighs.

“Hold it,” He warns. His voice is pitched below the Earth’s surface. “Gotta teach you how to please big bro properly.” You fight hard as his tip keeps irritating the thing that hangs at the back of your throat, trying to oppose your body from naturally activating your gag reflex but it ends up being fruitless. Your throat convulses as it bulges with his cock print and you cough out an ugly sound. Your vision blurs once you feel your eyes start to water up. You want him to move back already!

“Good.” It’s like he heard your thoughts because he finally retracts from his perfect spot lodged in your gullet. His swollen tip tickles the surface of your lips as you gasp several breaths of air. Just what was he thinking? You could’ve puked!

“What the hell was- mmph!” Halted by another intrusion of his cock burying itself in the pits of your throat, you muffle out a sound of surprise. You couldn’t believe it.

Satoru starts, “Less talking from you, sunshine. I wanna hear you slobber on my dick. Think you can do that for me?” He quickens up the pace of his thrust, going at the speed of someone walking. You gag disgustingly at each thrust and you can feel snot starting to leisurely slip from your nose (just what he wanted to see).

“That’s a messy girl, my messy sister. Got you, hah, so worked up you even got snot dripping from your nose and your spit running down my balls. Oh, you don’t know how much I longed for this.” He resumes his praises and tips back his head for a howl, feeling himself approaching his end as he hears you glurg, glurg, glurg on his veiny member.

“Oh shit, shiiit…!” Suddenly, you’re abruptly pushed off of him, freeing your esophagus from the restraint. Your back lands on the bed with a thud, your landing protected by your doughy comforter. Satoru stands motionless as he recovers from edging himself to oblivion. Biting his lip, his cock twitches up and down before it gradually remains unmoving.

You don’t even remember it happening, but you’re already restricted underneath Satoru’s panting body, thighs folded backward for a mating press, squeezing your squishy tits together, and feet perched on top of his shoulders. He takes his infamous spot between your legs, his overworked hands, decorated in calluses and scars, cuff around the underside of your knees.

He gifts you a heated kiss on your lips. “‘Toru-nii-” You say while struggling to keep up with his tongue. He breaks away from you and the string of saliva snaps into two.

“I hear you, baby, want me inside you already, I know, hear you loud ‘n’ clear.” His tip finds your entrance and it's sopping wet tenfold. He’s never seen you so needy in his life. He pushes in slowly and smoothly. Relishing your moans as he delves within you inch by inch, his thick cock stretching you out deliciously. You squirm in lascivious desire each time he enters you.

“I know, sugar, I know…” He soothes you upon hearing your sobs go up an octave. His head rests at the empty spot next to your neck and his hair tickles the crevice. “Almost there.”

As soon as he sinks deep in your warm cunt, he pecks your cheek with a softness that resembles duck feathers in a pillow before plummeting into you. A pornographic squelch resounds through your room.

“Hnn, T-Toru-nii is, so deep, ah, in my pussy!” You yelp. He’s so glad you’re still following his gross footsteps. So dazed by his cock hitting every ridge nestled within you.

“Yes, that’s right, little sis. And you’re gonna be a good girl and take it for me, right?”

You give a nod, “Yes, I will. I always will. Just f-for you.”

“Mmm, that’s right. That’s what I like to hear.” 

He inclines his torso backward, finding his attention on the feet placed at each side of his shoulders, more specifically, the one to his left as he grabs your ankle with ease, stroking the bone and putting your pedicured toe between wanting lips, your french tips hitting the roof of his mouth while lapping at your salty skin.

His pelvis hammers into you at a steady rate in combination with the gushes emerging from both sexes, it's so damn loud, you’re quite sure your Resident Assistant will come banging at your door frantically, telling you to lower it down because of the noise complaints that lead to your room.

You giggle, not just at the thought but at how much it tickles to feel Satoru’s tongue swirl around each toe.

“Satoru, that tickles.” You quip and the aforementioned man stares at you with knowing lids, purposely tasting your soles which have you trying to take your foot away, but the position you’re in makes it impossible.  

You feel as though hours go by as your older brother pushes on with fucking you silly and having a makeout session with your foot. His v-line collides with your poor pussy on every steady beat and you can’t help but let your earlier accusations fall from your mind like slippery soap.

The revulsion, the distaste, the discomfort–all of which were confined in a silk-woven case, trapped and compacted hitherto its evolution of approval. Although tentativeness plagues its cycle, the result remains beauteous as a cherry red butterfly protrudes through the rotten surface of the cocoon. The successful escapee finally swarms the sky with a setting sun.

It feels good. You feel good. Your pussy feels good as your step brother pounds it with intent–with purpose. You wiggle like a fearful worm ready to be eaten once the need to release creeps up slowly.

“My little sister always manages to feel so good. This pussy is just gripping me so fucking tightly and-” He stops abruptly and so do your moans as you hear your front door creak open.

The sound of jiggling keys and the chaotic trembling of plastic bags alert both your ears as you hear the door slam shut accompanied by a relieved sigh. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand–‘10:35 PM’. One of your roommates is back from work. Coming home to rest easy from their enervating shift, she wants nothing more than to take a scalding hot shower, laze in her bed, and listen to nothing but silence as she drifts off to sleep.

But before those temptations come into play, she first wants to check up on you to see if you’re still in your room. Walking up sluggishly to your door, she raises a hand to prepare a few knocks while you and Satoru both stare wide-eyed at the shadow that occupies the crevice beneath your bedroom door–still like Michelangelo's statues.

“Hey, (Name), you in there?” The pause is long as you look up to Satoru and see his gaping mouth transform into a smirk before turning your attention to the door.

“Uh, yeah, I’m here. What’s up?” You ask, slightly hoping that your answer will satisfy her queries on your safety before retreating to her room.

“After work, I took a quick trip to the store for some wings and frozen pizza if you’d like some. Even got honey-barbeque-” You smile at her gentle antics. She remembered your favorite flavor.

“Oh, thanks, I really appreciate th-oh!” You’re stopped once Satoru resumes pounding your sloppy pussy. You cover your mouth in an attempt to conceal your yap but a strong hand grabs both wrists to cuff them above your head.

“Keep talkin', sis. Can’t leave mom pondering, now can we?” He whispered with precaution. That devious little-

“H-Hey? Are you okay?” The squishy slaps of both Satoru’s precum and your wet fluids compose a cacophonic symphony. Shit, if he keeps going, you’ll- 

“Yeah, m-mhm. I-I’m, fuuuck, fine.” Satoru grins maniacally above you his hot breath pasts your cheek and into your ear. The tip of his cock abuses your cervix as he compacts you tightly under giant muscle, arms littered with bulging purple and blue veins as he keeps you steady. His pubes tickle your clit whenever his hips kissed yours. Both breaths were getting heavy.

“Are you sure, you sound…sick.” Her words were laced with worry as she stood there, unmoving. “Do you need for me to come in?”

Satoru finds her naivety hilarious but decides it's time to break the barrier. He does so by raising his hips to an exaggerated extent before hammering back into you, the sound much louder than before as clapping fills the atmosphere. He guarantees your roommate will pick it up. Which she does.

“Wait, are you-” She gasps when she hears your sobbing moans echo in her ears. “Oh my God.” You’re too fucked stupid to give a reply when she blurts out an embarrassed ‘sorry!’ before taking hurried footsteps away from your door.

“Guess we scared her off, huh?” Knowing damn well he was the one who only made the effort to let your roommate know you were being pounded to oblivion. “Think she’s gonna tell everyone about this? Tell everyone how her son and daughter ruin the family name because we were caught fucking each other in your room?” He’s quick to pick up in your roleplay.

“Hnngh, I don’t know, ‘Toru.”

“I’m quite sure she will. What do you say, sweet girl, how about we both give a real reason to soil the family name and let me come in this pussy?” His thrusts start to stutter with each filthy word–cream drips from your cunt and down to the tight rim of your ass. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you groan quietly.

“Answer me now, sweetheart, or Satoru-nii is gonna-”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck. Please come inside me, please, ‘don’t care about anyone in this family but you! Come inside me, Satoru-nii!”

With that being said, he fulfills your wish by giving you one, big thrust and stilling his cock deep in his little sister’s pussy to pump his hot seed in increments. Whimpering loudly as he does so. His face contorts in the cutest grimace that you wish you could smooch. You heavily breathe in unison until he pulls out of you (fingering his remaining cum back into your fluttering hole).

He kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and lastly your lips before saying, “You did so well for me.”

And it’s after this session that have you thinking–‘perhaps you do get it’.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How to have cancer

THIS WEEKEND (November 8-10), I'll be in TUCSON, AZ: I'm the GUEST OF HONOR at the TUSCON SCIENCE FICTION CONVENTION.

I've got cancer but it's probably (almost certainly, really) okay. Within a very short period I will no longer have cancer (at least for now). This is the best kind of cancer to have – the kind that is caught early and treated easily – but I've learned a few things on the way that I want to share with you.

Last spring, my wife put her arm around my waist and said, "Hey, what's this on your rib?" She's a lot more observant than I am, and honestly, when was the last time you palpated your back over your left floating rib? Sure enough, there was a lump there, a kind of squishy, fatty raised thing, half a centimeter wide and about four centimeters long.

I'm a 53 year old man with a family history of cancer. My father was diagnosed with lymphatic cancer at 55. So I called my doctor and asked for an appointment to have the lump checked over.

I'm signed up with Southern California Kaiser Permanente, which is as close as you come to the Canadian medicare system I grew up under and the NHS system I lived under for more than a decade. Broadly speaking, I really like KP. Its app – while terrible – isn't as terrible as the other apps, and they've taken very good care of me for both routine things like vaccinations and checkups, and serious stuff, like a double hip replacement.

Around the time of The Lump, I'd been assigned a new primary care physician – my old one retired – and so this was my first appointment with her. I used the KP app to book it, and I was offered appointments six weeks in the future. My new doc was busy! I booked the first slot.

This was my first mistake. I didn't need to wait to see my PCP to get my lump checked over. There was really only two things that my doc was gonna do, either prod it and say, "This is an extremely common whatchamacallit and you don't need to worry" or "You should go get this scanned by a radiologist." I didn't need a specific doctor to do this. I could have ridden my bike down to the KP-affiliated Urgent Care at our local Target store and gotten an immediate referral to radiology.

Six weeks go by, and my doc kind of rolls the weird lump between her fingers and says, "You'd better go see a radiologist." I called the Kaiser appointment line and booked it that day, and a couple weeks later I had a scan.

The next day, the app notified me that radiology report was available in my electronic heath record. It's mostly technical jargon ("Echogenic areas within mass suggest fatty component but atypical for a lipoma") but certain phrases leapt out at me: "malignant masses cannot be excluded. Follow up advised."

That I understood. I immediately left my doctor a note saying that I needed a biopsy referral and set back to wait. Two days went by. I left her a voice message. Another two days went by. I sent another email. Nothing, then a weekend, then more nothing.

I called Kaiser and asked to be switched to another Primary Care Physician. It was a totally painless and quick procedure and within an hour my new doc's intake staff had reviewed my chart, called me up, and referred me for a biopsy.

This was my second mistake. When my doctor didn't get back to me within a day, I should have called up KP and raised hell, demanding an immediate surgical referral.

What I did do was call Kaiser Member Services and file a grievance. I made it very clear that when I visited my doctor, I had been very happy with the care I received, but that she and her staff were clearly totally overloaded and needed some kind of administrative intervention so that their patients didn't end up in limbo.

This is a privilege. I'm a native English speaker, and although I was worried about a serious illness, I didn't have any serious symptoms. I had the ability and the stamina to force action in the system, and my doing so meant that other patients, not so well situated as I was, would not be stuck where I had been, with fewer resources to get un-stuck.

The surgeon who did the biopsy was great. He removed my mass. It was a gross lump of yellowy-red gunk in formaldehyde. He even let me photograph it before it went to pathology (warning, gross):

https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/54038418981/

They told me that the pathology would take 2-5 days. I reloaded the "test results" tab in the KP website religiously after 48 hours. Nothing was updated. After five days, I called the surgical department (I had been given a direct number to reach them in case of postsurgical infections, and made a careful note of it).

It turned out that the pathology report had been in hand for three days at that point, but it was "preliminary" pending some DNA testing. Still, it was enough that the surgeon referred me to an oncologist.

This was my third mistake: I should have called after 48 hours and asked whether the pathology report was in hand, and if not, whether they could check with pathology. However, I did something very right this time: I got a phone number to reach the specialist directly, rather than going through the Kaiser main number.

My oncologist appointment was very reassuring. The oncologist explained the kind of cancer I had ("follicular lymphoma"), the initial prognosis (very positive, though it was weird that it manifested on my rib, so far from a lymph node) and what needed to happen next (a CT/PET scan). He also walked me through the best, worst and medium-cases for treatment, based on different scan outcomes. This was really good, as it helped me think through how I would manage upcoming events – book tours, a book deadline, work travel, our family Christmas vacation plans – based on these possibilities.

The oncologist gave me a number for Kaiser Nuclear Medicine. I called them from the parking lot before leaving the Kaiser hospital and left a message for the scheduler to call me back. Then I drove home.

This was my fourth mistake. The Kaiser hospital in LA is the main hub for Kaiser Southern California, and the Nuclear Medicine department was right there. I could have walked over and made an appointment in person.

Instead, I left messages daily for the next five days, waited a weekend, then called up my oncologist's staff and asked them to intervene. I also called Kaiser Member Services and filed an "urgent grievance" (just what it sounds like) and followed up by filing a complaint with the California Patient Advocate:

https://www.dmhc.ca.gov/

In both the complaint and the grievance, I made sure to note that the outgoing message at Nuclear Medicine scheduling was giving out false information (it said, "Sorry, all lines are busy," even at 2am!). Again, I was really careful to say that the action I was hoping for was both a prompt appointment for me (my oncologist had been very insistent upon this) but also that this was a very broken system that would be letting down every patient, not me, and it should be fixed.

Within a couple hours, I had a call back from KP grievances department, and an hour after that, I had an appointment for my scan. Unfortunately, that was three weeks away (so much for my oncologist's "immediate" order).

I had the scan last week, on Hallowe'en. It was really cool. The gadget was awesome, and the rad-techs were really experienced and glad to geek out with me about the way the scanner and the radioactive glucose they infused in me interacted. They even let me take pictures of the scan visualizations:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/54108481109/

The radiology report was incredibly efficient. Within a matter of hours, I was poring over it. I had an appointment to see the doc on November 5, but I had been reading up on the scans and I was pretty sure the news was good ("No enlarged or FDG avid lymph nodes are noted within the neck, chest, abdomen, or pelvis. No findings of FDG avid splenic or bone marrow involvement").

There was just one area of concern: "Moderate FDG uptake associated with a round 1.3 cm left inguinal lymph node." The radiologist advised the oncologist to "consider correlation with tissue sampling."

Today was my oncology appointment. For entirely separate reasons, I was unable to travel to the hospital today: I wrenched my back over the weekend and yesterday morning, it was so bad that I couldn't even scratch my nose without triggering unbearable spams. After spending all day yesterday in the ER (after being lifted out of my house on a stretcher), getting MRIs and pain meds, I'm much better off, though still unable to get out of bed for more than a few minutes at a time.

So this morning at 8:30 sharp, I started calling the oncology department and appointment services to get that appointment changed over to a virtual visit. While I spent an hour trying various non-working phone numbers and unsuccessfully trying to get Kaiser appointment services to reach my oncologist, I tried to message him through the KP app. It turns out that because he is a visiting fellow and not staff, this wasn't possible.

I eventually got through to the oncology department and had the appointment switched over. The oncology nurse told me that they've been trying for months to get KP to fix the bug where fellows can't be messaged by patients. So as soon as I got off the phone with her, I called member services and filed another grievance. Why bother, if I'd gotten what I needed? Same logic as before: if you have the stamina and skills to demand a fix to a broken system, you have a duty to use them.

I got off the phone with my oncologist about an hour ago. It went fine. I'm going to get a needle biopsy on that one suss node. If it comes back positive, I'll get a few very local, very low-powered radiation therapy interventions, whose worst side effect will be "a mild sunburn over a very small area." If it's negative, we're done, but I'll get quarterly CT/PET scans to be on the safe side.

Before I got off the phone, I made sure to get the name of the department where the needle biopsy would be performed and a phone number. The order for the biopsy just posted to my health record, and now I'm redialing the department to book in that appointment (I'm not waiting around for them to call me).

While I redial, a few more lessons from my experience. First, who do you tell? I told my wife and my parents, because I didn't want to go through a multi-week period of serious anxiety all on my own. Here, too, I made a mistake: I neglected to ask them not to tell anyone else. The word spread a little before I put a lid on things. I wanted to keep the circle of people who knew this was going on small, until I knew what was what. There's no point in worrying other people, of course, and my own worry wasn't going to be helped by having to repeat, "Well, it looks pretty good, but we won't know until I've had a scan/my appointment/etc."

Next, how to manage the process: this is a complex, multi-stage process. It began with a physician appointment, then a radiologist, then a pathology report, then surgery, then another pathology report, then an oncologist, then a scan, then another radiologist, and finally, the oncologist again.

That's a lot of path-dependent, interdepartmental stuff, with a lot of ways that things can fall off the rails (when my dad had cancer at my age, there was a big gap in care when one hospital lost a fax from another hospital department and my folks assumed that if they hadn't heard back, everything was fine).

So I have been making extensive use of a suspense file, where I record what I'm waiting for, who is supposed to provide it, and when it is due. Though I had several places where my care continuity crumbled some, there would have been far more if I hadn't done this:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/26/one-weird-trick/#todo

The title of this piece is "how to have cancer," but what it really boils down to is, "things I learned from my own cancer." As I've noted, I'm playing this one on the easiest setting: I have no symptoms, I speak and write English fluently, I am computer literate and reasonably capable of parsing medical/technical jargon. I have excellent insurance.

If any of these advantages hadn't been there, things would have been a lot harder. I'd have needed these lessons even more.

To recap them:

See a frontline care worker as soon as possible: don't wait for an appointment with a specific MD. Practically any health worker can prod a lump and refer you for further testing;

Get a direct phone number for every specialist you are referred to (add this to your phone book); call them immediately after the referral to get scheduled (better yet, walk over to their offices and schedule the appointment in person);

Get a timeframe as to when your results are due and when you can expect to get a follow-up; call the direct number as soon as the due-date comes (use calendar reminders for this);

If you can't get a call back, an appointment, or a test result in a reasonable amount of time (use a suspense file to track this), lodge a formal complaint with your insurer/facility, and consider filing with the state regulator;

Think hard about who you're going to tell, and when, and talk over your own wishes about who they can tell, and when.

As you might imagine, I've spent some time talking to my parents today as these welcome results have come in. My mother is (mostly) retired now, and she's doing a lot of volunteer work on end-of-life care. She recommends a book called Hope for the Best, Plan for the Rest: 7 Keys for Navigating a Life-Changing Diagnosis:

https://pagetwo.com/book/hope-for-the-best-plan-for-the-rest/

I haven't read it, but it looks like it's got excellent advice, especially for people who lack the self-advocacy capabilities and circumstances I'm privileged with. According to my mom, who uses it in workshops, there's a lot of emphasis on the role that families and friends can play in helping someone whose physical, mental and/or emotional health are compromised.

So, that's it. I've got cancer. No cancer is good. This cancer is better than most. I am almost certainly fine. Every medical professional I've dealt with, and all the administrative support staff at Kaiser, have been excellent. Even the doc who dropped the ball on my biopsy was really good to deal with – she was just clearly drowning in work. The problems I had are with the system, not the people. I'm profoundly grateful to all of them for the help they gave me, the interest and compassion they showed, and the clarity and respect they demonstrated in my dealings with them.

I'm also very grateful to my wife, my parents, and my boss at EFF, all of whom got the news early and demonstrated patience, love, and support that helped in my own dark hours over the past couple of months.

I hope you're well. But you know, everyone gets something, eventually. When you find yourself mired in a broken system full of good people, work the system – for yourself and for the people who come behind you. Take records. Make calls.

Look after yourself.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/05/carcinoma-angels/#squeaky-nail

[crimsonbubble]

Hello! Hope you're having a wonderful day/night.

I'm not sure if you're taking requests but...

Just came on here to ask if you could write a Professor!Miguel O'Hara x Student!Reader type au?

Please and thank you for listening! 🤍🙌🏼

cw. nsfw, gn college student!reader, professor!miguel, age gap (reader 20s, miguel 40s), forbidden relationship (?), manhandling, fingering, oral (m receiving), cum eating, praise, degradation, cockwarming, spanking, one use of 'daddy' *not proofread, just pure horny

[IM SOREY I GOT TO THIS SK LATE AAAAAAAA 🥹🥹]

MINORS DNI!!

another day, another class. college seems to be keeping you swamped with essays and assignments, but a certain someone's class made the workload that tad bit easier.

Mr. Miguel O'Hara, your biochemistry professor. you knew you weren't the only one with your eyes on him. he was tall, incredibly handsome, and made paying attention worth it when he'd turn his back to the students. if you asked anyone in your class, you'd all unanimously agree that Mr. O'Hara is undoubtedly attractive. you've imagined things that would haunt you till the day you died.

being bent over his desk or being sat on his desk while his hands curl into your spots. clutching at his broad shoulders as he kissed and bit at your neck, pressing the pads of his fingers insistently into the spot that had you seeing stars. slotting your lips together as you come undone, trying to muffle the sounds from being heard by others. hearing him coo out praises as he made you writhe and shake on his desk.

tears streaming down your cheeks and saliva dripping down your chin as he held your mouth at the base of his cock. letting out a rumbling groan as you choke and gag on him. pulling you off his cock so he can lean down and capture your lips in a sloppy tooth and tongue-filled kiss.

"gotta be quiet, honey. can't have others hearing us." "that's it, just like that. being so fucking good for me." "oh you filthy little slut, look how much of a mess you made."

even with all the eyes that linger on him, he has his eyes on you. you've piqued his interest when you first popped into his class and he almost didn't want to admit that he looked forward to the days when he got to see you.

it was when he had bumped into you at the coffee shop near your college that set your relationship into motion. you had stopped by there during your break between classes, needing a little pick-me-up. Miguel simply needed more caffeine to keep him awake for his next and final class of the day. you two decided to get a table together and chat, and yes, Miguel did insist on paying, meaning he paid before you could even get your wallet out of your bag. he ushered you off to a table with a soft tut and waited for your drinks.

as you bonded over drink blends and classes, your alarm for your next class rang. Miguel sighed and checked his watch, before getting up along with you. he quickly scribbled something on a napkin and gave it to you, giving you a soft smile and winking quickly as he left. you grabbed your stuff and rushed off to your next class. you fishes the crumpled napkin out of your pocket and nearly dropped your drink as you read the note over and over.

even with such a simple note consisting of his number and a small "text me when you're free? ♡" made your heart flutter and a familiar warmth spread across your face.

In the following days, Miguel made an effort to slip in some inconspicuous praise at any given time. when you do good on an assignment, when you ask questions in class, and of course when he has his thick and heavy cock buried between your thighs. he never holds back on praise; you deserve it. but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to discipline.

he's a college professor, of course, he should know. so he's not partial to having you cockwarm him while he grades assignments and essays. if you've managed to catch him at a bad time, yet still insist on pushing buttons, he won't hesitate to pull you down over his lap. he'll tug your pants down just under your ass and leave it rosy, hot, and stinging. though he immediately follows up with soft caresses as he lifts you into his lap properly, gently soothing your skin as you sniffle lightly.

"you're okay, sweetheart. I'm almost done, then you can have daddy's attention, yeah?"

[dittanyinbloom]

Note Taking

Ominis Gaunt x fem!MC (there is only one gendered term in the very last line). 1.8k. No specific house. Fluff and a bit of MC embarrassing themselves.

Based on this post I made about having HoM with Ominis.

.💕✍🏻💕

“In today’s lesson, we will cover a truly thrilling event. . .,” Professor Binns had just started class, but half the students were already dozing off.

It was widely accepted that History of Magic was merely used as a free period. Whether that meant catching up on sleep or doing last minute homework for another class, one thing was certain: no one paid attention. Attendance hardly mattered since Professor Binns rarely ever engaged with the class directly. In fact, you would bet he didn’t even know a single students name or even the exact year. Everyday he floated into class, discussed whatever curriculum he felt like, then drifted off through the wall to his office at the end of the period without so much as a goodbye.

To say the least, it was no one’s favorite subject, that is, except you. Every Tuesday and Thursday, you practically skipped to your afternoon slot of History of Magic. With all the extracurriculars other professors sent you on, and the adventures you went on without their knowledge, you were elated to have time set aside for assignments and catching up on some sleep. Those horrible demiguise statues Mr. Moon asked you to find were really taking a toll on you lately.

Perhaps the most exciting part of class was that you didn’t share it with Sebastian Sallow. Now, he was a very lovely boy for helping you out on multiple excursions, but his presence could be intense at times. This could be simply fixed by spending time with your other friends. Natty, Poppy, and even Amit were great company and just as, if not even more helpful than Sebastian. But that boy had one thing drawing you back every day to meet up. .

Ominis Gaunt, Sebastian’s right hand man and arguably his moral compass. Oh, how you would spend hours practicing spells with Sebastian in the Undercroft for the smallest chance that Ominis would walk in to study, or have a chat, or sometimes even join in on the dueling. That was the only time you ever saw him without his school robes. Neatly folding up his sleeves and grinning like a mad man when he landed a blow on Sebastian, who as of late, rather deserved a few jinxes thrown his way.

History of Magic was the only class Ominis sat beside you in. It was hardly the place to make conversation since even the softest of whispers would be heard by the extremely bored students around you. Nevertheless, you were content with just sitting beside him and admiring his lazy smile as he drifted off into what was probably his fourth nap of the day.

That was one of the first odd quirks you had noticed about the boy. While you ran around the castle from one fool’s errand to the next, you often passed by Ominis lounging about on benches, windowsills, and most often the floor. Sometimes he was snacking or working on revisions, but more often than not the boy was merely napping, just out in the open, where anyone could step on him. The first few times, you had gently woken him up and offered to help him to his common room, but he always acted as though you were the strange one for not letting him sleep in the middle of a hallway in the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower.

Now whenever you saw him, you hummed in endearment and graciously covered him with your scarf as a makeshift blanket. You used to have an array of scarves, but now half of them were likely stuffed in a trunk deep in the Slytherin boys’ dormitory, never to be seen again. It was a small price to pay, in your eyes.

“Seb told me to tell you to meet us in the library after classes,” Ominis said as he leaned forward on the desk, getting in a comfortable napping position.

“Does he think you’re an owl?” You teased.

“Something about you being more likely to say yes if it comes from me.”

“I see,” you whispered, hoping he didn’t hear how flustered you had become. “So he’s scheming again?”

“You say again as if he quit to begin with.”

“Well, you know I can’t say no to an adventure.”

“Exactly why the two of you will be the death of me. Wake me up if anything crazy happens?”

Nothing ever would, at least, not while all the other students that usually caused trouble were sleeping as well. You dated your parchment for notes then began doodling to stay awake. As of late, the professors had been elated with your progress and stopped giving you so much extra work. Not much catching up needed to be done since most other students couldn’t take on a troll alone and live to tell the tale.

Your eyes wandered to study the pretty moles Ominis had scattered about his face and neck. The unhinged, love stricken part of your brain desperately wanted to draw little love hearts or flowers around them. Your fingers twitched, but you controlled your urges and drew hearts all over your notes instead. This was turning into a common occurrence. Most of your history notes contained one or two key points from Binns, a few random drawings, and many iterations of your deskmate’s name scribbled about. At the top corner of every parchment you would even write your name with his last name along with the date. And oh, how the two went so well together.

The period flies by while you daydream of holding Ominis’ hand or kissing his beauty marks as the two of you part ways. The sound of students scuffing their chairs in the worn wood flooring brings you back to reality. You tap Ominis on the shoulder. For a moment your hand lingers, drifting between his shoulder blades.

“Ominis, class has ended.”

“Already?” His voice was almost a whine which was strange because most students jumped at the opportunity to leave history class.

“Don’t sound too disappointed. Binns might offer to go on for another hour if he knows a student is willing to stay.”

You had one more class before meeting the boys in the library. Sebastian seemed to be awaiting your arrival, spotting you the moment you walked in, and waving you up to join them on the second floor. As you greeted them, you set your scarf and robes on the back of the chair.

“You really do need to come by our room and grab your scarves,” Sebastian commented. “They’re taking over.”

“Hmm, yes. I am missing quite a few at this point.”

The culprit, though it wasn’t entirely his fault since you were the one always covering up his sleeping form, went pink at the mention of scarves. Despite looking as though he wanted to add to the conversation, he quickly went back to writing the twelve inches for Sharp’s latest assignment.

“So, Sallow, why have you dragged me here today? Are we going treasure hunting again?”

“Sorry, little adventurer, today’s request is rather boring in comparison. Thought it would be a good time to start revising for O.W.L.s, and I need help in History of Magic. I’ve managed to fall asleep every single period since the start of term. . Quite impressive if you ask me.”

“Don’t know why you thought to ask me. I hardly pay attention in that class.”

Sebastian tilted his head to the side, frowning in confusion. “But, Ominis said he can hear you writing notes all period.”

Your eyes flicker to Ominis almost in a look of betrayal. He seemed as focused as ever on writing, either exuding an excellent poker face or genuinely not showing any interest in being mentioned by Sebastian. Quickly, you swallowed down your own emotions and insisted, “Well, sorry. My notes for that class are very scattered. I mostly just draw to keep myself awake.”

“Anything would help. I honestly don’t even know what we’re meant to be learning about. Nellie heard there might be a quiz next week. My uncle can not hear about my grades slipping on top of everything else.”

Seeing the innocent look of terror on Sebastian’s face made you melt a bit. In his defense, he didn’t know you made a fool of yourself by doodling his best friends name across your parchment twice a week. He was just asking for notes, which was something the three of you often shared.

“I can. . read them to you?” You compromised.

Both boys gave you an odd look, but Sebastian agreed without much hesitation given how desperate he was.

“Suppose I should be writing this down too, if there really is a quiz coming up,” Ominis said with a grimace.

You unrolled your parchment and began to read. Both boys studiously jotted down every word. Hopefully you were explaining everything accurately. There were clearly periods in your notes where you had dozed off between key moments, but unless Binns was looking for his exact wording on the quiz, the three of should should be able to pass.

“It’s with an ‘A’, Grimbald, not Grimbold,” Ominis said out of the blue.

“Thanks,” Sebastian muttered as he went back to add a flick of ink to his ‘O’. He seemed unbothered but Ominis’ correction. You, however, were too tongue-tied to continue reading. Sebastian frowned at the silence and finally looked up at you. “Is there not more?”

“How. . ?”

“Oh!” Realizing your confusion, Sebastian was quick and rather proud to explain his best mate’s ability, “Ominis can hear the letters, or, dunno really. You explain it better, Ominis.”

Suddenly, Ominis went ridged like he had been caught in an act. “When the room is quiet enough, I can pick out the sounds of a quill or chalk on the board. Letters all have a distinct cadence to them. Some sound too similar to be distinct like ‘b’, ‘d’, and ‘p’, but I can make an educated guess.”

“So you can hear what people are writing?”

“Precisely!” Sebastian spoke up with a wide smile. “Brilliant, isn’t it?“

“It is. . quite the talent, Ominis.”

“Thank you.”

You cleared your throat and went on with the lesson. Just because Ominis knew Sebastian’s penmanship did not mean he had your memorized, or that he even listened in the first place. After all, he slept through every class, and you weren’t bold enough to write his name in such a way while he was awake.

Still, knowing of his ability left you wary. The next time you sat with Ominis in history class, you were meticulous with your note taking. No doodles, no love hearts, no childish name writing. Those days were over. They had to be because if Ominis somehow didn’t already know about your embarrassing crush, you were not going to give him the opportunity to find out.

This time when you wrote your name and the date at the top of the parchment, you used your own last name. After that was finished, you moved on to title it “The Goblin Rebellion of 1752”, but you hadn’t gotten past “The” when a hand landed on your knee.

Warmth spread across your thigh while chilling nerves sprinkled down your spine. You nearly fell out of your chair at the touch, causing Ominis to squeeze down harder, keeping you firmly in your seat.

“Ominis?”

He almost seemed angry, but he kept his voice a low whisper for only you to hear, “What do you think you are doing, Mrs. Gaunt? Title your notes appropriately.”

~You can find part two here~

[nonbinary-potatoes]

Prompt: star 05/11/12 @rosekillermicrofic

Word count: 464

"I don't get it," Evan said, looking at the piece of parchment Barty had handed him. He had read it three times, and all Barty did was stare expectantly.

"It's my divination work. We're doing star readings," Barty explained at last. He took the paper back and pointed at a diagram of different stars labelled with different times and dates.

"This one here" he pointed at a constellation label 01/09/72 12:34 "is when I met you" he grinned widely, digging in his pocket and slotting a green apple lollipop in his mouth. He spoke around the sweet as he continued to explain.

"See because... I don't know if some air and fire sign was aligned with mercury when we met. That means we're actually soul mates, " he laughed, taking the lollipop out his mouth and offering it to Evan. Evan took it and tucked it safely between his lips, raising an eyebrow at Barty's explanation.

"S'a good job, I already knew that," Evan joked, frowning as Barty continued to drone on about divination, not even acknowledging the hilarious joke he had made.

Barty had taken all 12 OWLS and seemed to enjoy every subject equally and was physically unable to shut up about every assignment and tidbit of information he learnt. Evan wouldn't have been shocked if he could pass all 12 just from having to share a room with Barty.

After far too long of listening to how the universe allegedly was certain that he and his boyfriend were meant to be, something he had to listen to a slightly different explanation of everytime Barty came back from divination, Evan had grown slightly bored. It wasn't that he didn't love Barty - he loved him to bits and peices, and he did love watching Barty talk about things he found interesting and how he was not so subtly showing his love for Evan even if it was in an odd way. But you can only listen to your boyfriend say mercury is in the microwave, and that makes us soul mates so many times before it feels like overkill.

"Bee..." Evan said, taking the near gone lollipop from his mouth to speak "Bee" he repeated himself after Barty didn't listen. "For fucks sake.." Evan grumbled under his breath, leaning foreward and pressing a short kiss onto Barty’s lips.

"I love you, but please, can we talk about anything but divination?" Evan half pleaded, trying to come off light and joking.

Barty took the lollipop back and nodded, biting down on the remains of the candy and thinking for a moment before tossing the marked work aside and grinning madly - his teeth stained slightly green.

"Did I tell you I read this book on necromancy..." Barty began, and Evan was content to just listen.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Summary: There was something strange on the tracks...

Prompts: The Departure | Dusk

[And so ends my very first crack at Traintober! I hope you've all enjoyed my quickly little drabbles, and Happy Halloween!]

---

~~~🌕~~~

When he was younger and still considered a relatively modern engine, Edward used to work at any given time of the day.

From the very crack of dawn to the tail-end of the witching hour and beyond, he'd been able to withstand some of the most arduous working schedules an engine of the time could ever be bestowed with.

Something which he'd greatly prided himself in.

But his time in the limelight had certainly come and gone, and as trains grew longer and heavier it became very obvious that his class was far too outdated to keep with the turn of the century. The modern commute far too much for an engine of his rather respectable age.

That grueling schedule belonged to both Henry and Gordon now. Sometimes even James. All three of them larger, stronger, and considerably younger engines than Edward. And this was fine by him, as he greatly enjoyed being able to take things slower these days.

There was, however, the rare occasion where Edward would find himself slotted to do extra work outside of his usual schedule.

The fat controller would either entrust him with exported goods trains that went outside of his usual route (including to the mainland), or he'd request that Edward inspect the lines at certain dates when there was sure to be some wear and tear from the past couple of months of service.

The latter had been what he was set to do, on this perfectly calm yet oddly eerie full moon night...

Charlie and Sidney had approached as the sun began to set. Still a little drowsy from their four hours of rest in the breakroom, but alert and chipper enough that Edward knew their yawns and bleary-eyed looks wouldn't be much of a problem.

He could have been assigned a replacement crew to do the inspection, but the two had insisted that they take the job instead. Reassuring their boss that, if Edward could do it, so could his trusty crew.

Besides, they knew the route by heart, and they also knew the parameters of the job. It'd be easier that they just do it themselves than leave Sir Topham Hatt to scramble in search of a crew with nearly as much experience, on such short notice.

The two men drank their respective caffeinated hot beverages to help wake them up a little more, and then set off to work getting Edward ready for the trip.

They wouldn't be pulling anything today. It was just Edward, his full tender, and his crew with a trusty clipboard and flashlights in hand. They'd jot down their findings, compile a report, and then swiftly deliver it to the fat controller's office.

And then they'd all get the morning off. A fairly simple in and out job made even easier by the bright shine of the full moon's light.

A win-win scenario!

They departed at dusk. Edward calling out one last farewell whistle to the kindly guard as he left the station, and enjoying the sensation of stretching his wheels without the burden of coaches or trucks to weight him down.

It wasn't often that Edward got to enjoy the thrill of a run all around the island. His age and his responsibility over his branch line, keeping him far too busy to go on joyrides. But it also wasn't like Edward was one to want for things anyway. He loved his work, loved his crew, and above all else loved the railway he served under.

The NWR having become both a home and a family to him.

Still, self-indulgence wasn't a crime. And he greatly enjoyed indulging in some guilty-pleasures. No one was perfect, after all!

Besides, the beginning of these inspection runs were quite dull. It was best to find some enjoyment out of them before the real work began.

"So far so good chaps!" Sidney called out, as he temporarily put his shovel down to wipe at the sweat on his brow. "Smooth rails, no overgrowth, and not a single fallen branch on the line."

"The lads have been keeping this part of the island nice and tidy." Charlie responded, as he kept a keen eye out. Occasionally reaching out of the cab window to give Edward a light pat. "And the weather's been perfectly docile... Odd for this time of year, but not unwelcome. Means there's less to clean up."

"It's been calm, yes." Edward added his own thoughts without hesitation. His crew rather loved involving him, which he greatly appreciated. "Even so, I've heard that Old Bailey has been complaining about the lines down by Hawkin Lake..."

"Ah..." Charlie scratched his chin in thought. "Yeah, people are wont to complain about the Peel Godred branch... Lots of odd happenings there."

"At the very least, the ghost is friendly." Sidney quipped as he went back to shoveling. "But I have to admit, the whole area looks pretty spooky after dark..."

"Shouldn't tonight." Charlie dismissed. "With how bright the moon's shining, you could almost mistake it for daytime."

Indeed, the full moon that night was rather bright. And as Edward made his way through the various tracks and stations, he couldn't help but to be somewhat enthralled by it.

The silvery sheen it cast upon Sudrian soil making everything look dazzling and almost enchanted.

Down to the piles of fallen leaves that had been raked during the day to be collected in the morning, to the very shapes of the hills and trees that they passed by.

The clear lakes looked the most stunning of all, reflecting the gorgeous sights surrounding them.

So entertained was he in taking in the beauty of the night, and his crew so busy with their tasks, that none of them noticed a figure darting from the woods and onto the tracks. Not until Edward glanced back up, only to find a living obstruction in front of his path...

"DRIVER!" He shouted in alarm as he instinctively applied his own breaks in a panic, before his entire world grew painfully askew...

Charlie and Sidney coughed and spluttered as they crawled and then climbed out of their poor engine's overturned cab. Broken glass cut into the palms of their hands, and where their knees met the wall (now temporarily serving as the floor).

The spilled hot coals had to be stamped out quickly before they threatened to cause a fire.

It was a chore, getting out and onto solid ground. But one that they managed surprisingly well, as they were lucky enough to not be as injured as they could have been in this situation. Edward on the other hand, was in much worse condition than them...

The old engine had been completely derailed, his tender twisted in another direction with it's cargo of coal spilled out on the tracks, and the rest of him half buried in the ground by the sheer strength of the impact.

It was hard to believe.

One moment everything had been fine and dandy, and then the next they'd suffered a rather brutal and unexpected accident.

It was almost unthinkable.

Never in their years of service had this ever happened to them. But that was a thought for later... Right now, Charlie and Sidney needed to do right by their friend.

"Oh dear..." The driver climbed onto a pile of upturned soil, noting how one side of Edward's buffer beam and footplate were fully interred. The one visible buffer was bent out of shape, and the twisted railing looked almost painful.

Worse yet was his friend's face. One side scratched up and reddened, as well as covered in copious amounts of dirt. Harder to ignore were the tears welling in Edward's eyes as he came to. Moaning in clear pain.

"Oh dear... Oh you poor lad..." Charlie mournfully put a hand to the undamaged side of Edward's face, trying his very best to comfort the frightened engine. "What a disaster..."

For what it was worth, the K2 class did his best to blink away tears and look to his driver and friend's face, before whimpering sadly.

"T-There was something on the tracks..."

There had been. Otherwise Edward would not have stopped nearly as abruptly. But whatever it had been, it had vanished back into the night. Likely a deer that had come inches away from death.

"Hey... Charlie...?" Sidney called out from the other side of the wreckage. He sounded confused. "You might wanna come have a look..."

Charlie hesitated in doing so. Not wanting to leave Edward by himself right now. But, on Sidney's insistence and their engine muttering that he'd be fine for a few minutes, he climbed back down and went to meet with the fireman.

What he saw made him pause.

There, on Edward's tender, were some rather odd scratch marks. Not the same as the ones caused by the crash, but rather... Well, they looked very much like claw marks.

"What in god's name...?" The driver stared at the deep gauges in disbelief.

"The hell did we hit...?" Sidney muttered to himself as he felt just how deep the scratches were. Stopping only when Edward yelped in response to the sudden jolt of pain.

"I don't know.... I didn't see any blood." Charlie admitted. "Whatever it was, we probably just... Grazed it...?"

"These are too deep to be a graze... But... Oh, it doesn't matter." Sidney groaned, dismissing the topic completely. "We need to get help..."

"We're not too far from the next station. Just 5 more miles... Can you make the trek, or should I go?" The driver offered.

"I'll go, you're limping." Sidney pointed out. "Keep the old chap company... He's in a bad way."

"I don't blame him... Poor thing." Charlie shook his head and made his way back to the front of their fallen engine. Hoping that rescue would arrive swiftly. For Edward's sake, more than their own.

Fortunately for all parties involved, the breakdown crew came remarkably quickly.

Henry had been on his way to do his Kipper run, when news of the accident had reached him and his crew. Ted had thought fast and called in to send someone to replace Henry (likely a disgruntled James), and then they'd promptly gone to help pull Edward out of the dirt.

The older engine's state was rather poor, as Charlie had previously assessed. But the damages were thankfully repairable, and Victor's prognosis was a very positive one!

Honestly they'd all been fairly lucky. Too lucky...

~~~🌕~~~

After being repaired and put back into service, things should have gone back to normal. Except they hadn't. As the days crawled on by, Charlie and Sidney quickly began to notice a rather odd shift in their friend's demeanor.

He was a little more impatient than usual. And not just when he was left to wait on someone else's connection points.

His boiler and firebox were also unusually temperamental, being either alarmingly noisy (the sound of boiling water and steam rumbling in such a way that it almost sounded like the gurgling belly of a great big beast), or spitting out the occasional hot coal (Sidney had almost been hit on the leg more than once, where nothing of the sort had ever happened before!).

Most startling of all was how grouchy he had become overnight. Grumbling and glaring as he went about his days, with the most sour disposition anyone had ever seen in him...

Needless to say, Charlie and Sidney were more than a little concerned for their engine.

"I don't feel well..." The K2 class would whimper to himself, only to then bark out an aggressive retort if anyone asked him what it was that he was feeling. "I don't know! Leave me be!"

His crankiness had gotten so bad that he even put Cranky to shame. Something which lead to the other engines attempting to avoid him to the best of their abilities (even Thomas and the twins).

No one was fond of being yelled at after all...

"Do you think it's trauma related...?" Charlie asked Ted one day. Knowing that Henry's fireman certainly had experience dealing with short-fused engines.

"It could be... It could also be pain related." Ted offered thoughtfully, as they discussed the issue. "Before his rebuild, whenever we got Henry's fire going, he felt a lot of aches and pain that wore his patience thin... It made him snappish. But he also felt bad about snapping at others, which ultimately only made him even more irritable..."

"He's been complaining of feeling unwell..." Sidney mused. "But we've taken him to the Steamworks repeatedly... No one can find anything wrong."

"Well... Edward is a rather old engine. Even if he's in tip top shape, perhaps he has the equivalent of engine arthritis?" Ted again suggested, trying to give them a different perspective. "The accident could have exacerbated it..."

"If that's the case.... Then there's really nothing we can do." Charlie looked down at his feet miserably. "You can't cure arthritis..."

"No... But you can try to manage the pain." Ted gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Talk to the fat controller... He'll understand."

And talk to the fat controller they did. For the foreseeable future, Edward was to have a lighter workload until whatever was wrong with him could either be pinpointed or (if they were lucky), sorted itself out.

Needless to say, the old engine wasn't happy about being confined to the sheds. Giving his crew the silent treatment for 'going behind his back', or so he muttered to himself whenever he thought they were out of earshot.

Charlie and Sidney were crushed by this, of course, but still did their very best to be there for Edward. And their efforts paid off.

With more rest, Edward's mood did improve slightly. And with continued patience and affection, he forgave both of them for pulling him from his usual services.

"I'm sorry I've been such a nuisance..." The old engine apologized sadly. "I just... Haven't been feeling like myself..."

"It's ok... You went through something awful old boy." Charlie very gently patted the bridge of his friend's nose. "We don't blame you for feeling a little off after that."

"And besides, we're made of tougher stuffs..." Sidney beamed happily, chipper as usual. "Now rest up. We're pulling a goods train tonight! Gonna be smooth rails all throughout, and another pretty moonlit night to boot!"

"I'll try to be on my best behavior, I promise." Edward smiled tiredly as he let himself rest in his berth. Tonight would be a good night.

Or so he thought...

The morning and afternoon came and went. Engines and crews alike going about their business and then settling in after they'd completed their shifts.

Charlie and Sidney, fully rested and ready for their late night train, made their way towards the lonely shed where they'd left their dear friend to rest peacefully without any intrusion.

Only to find it empty...

Flabbergasted, they both immateriality went to the stationmaster to ask if a replacement crew had been called in to take Edward instead.

Only to be met with even more bewilderment.

"No one's wanted to work with Edward as of late, other than the two of you that is..." The stationmaster explained. "As a matter of fact, no one's gone near his shed for fear of being yelled at..."

"But... But he's gone!" Charlie insisted, pointing to the very obviously empty shed. "He's not there!"

"....That can't be right... No one took him, I swear..." The man peered into the shed himself and stared in disbelief. "The hell...?"

"Do you mean to tell us someone stole our engine right under your nose?!" Sidney glared angrily.

"I'm telling you two! No one went near the sheds all day or night! I would have seen!" The stationmaster insisted. Clearly taking offense to Sidney's accusations.

"So what, Edward just rolled off on his own? He'd never do such a thing!" Sidney retorted, crossing his arms impatiently as he regarded the other man with suspicion.

"Oh sod off Sidney... I'm gonna go make a call to see if anyone's spotted him. I'm getting to the bottom of this..." The stationmaster snapped back before angrily stomping off into his office to do just that.

Leaving the two alone to stare at the impossibly empty shed. How in the world had an engine just seemingly vanished without anyone noticing?!

"I swear to god..." Sidney kicked a pebble and made his way towards the empty berth. Hoping by some miracle that there was any sort of clue as to what had happened to their engine.

"Nothing we can do about it... I mean... Someone would have noticed the old boy going around..." Charlie tried to placate his friend's clear irritation. "He's not exactly small."

"Yet, somehow, someone vanished him out of his shed without being noticed... I mean. It's not like Edward would have just sprouted legs and--" The fireman paused.

"And...?" Charlie raised an eyebrow.

Sidney remained quiet. He seemed to blink a few times while keeping his gaze glued to the floor, then looked to Charlie with absolute astonishment in his eye. Then, without so much as a word, he pointed down to the ground.

On the unpaved soil next to where the rails met the track, was a rather large imprint in the mud. An imprint that looked vaguely like a dog's paw print. Only, neither men had ever seen a dog quite as large enough to leave prints of such a size...

It looked like it could have easily dwarfed a bear.

"....What...What is this...?" Charlie stared at the impossible sized paw print, noting the presence of others that surely enough lead towards the outskirts of the station. Into the woods.

"...I have no clue... But we're about to find out." Sidney proclaimed, before going into the nearest utility shed to get a flashlight.

"I... Don't think that's such a good idea..." Charlie pointed out.

"Don't be daft Charlie." Sidney grumbled. "This is clearly some stupid kids playing a silly prank... Honestly..."

"I mean... It could be. But..."

"Charlie. Are you really gonna pretend whatever is going on in that superstitious mind of yours is anything but silly?" The fireman raised an eyebrow. He knew exactly what Charlie was thinking, and even the driver himself had to admit it was silly to think such things. But still... Something felt off about this situation.

"I suppose..."

"Then it's settled. We're getting our engine back."

The two men went into the woods, a single flashlight between them, following the tracks that could only have been faked by some punk kids with nothing better to do than bother the railway.

The large dog-like prints almost seemed like they went on forever. Taking them deeper and deeper into the woods, where both felt incredibly exposed and yet so utterly alone...

If something were to happen to them, no one would be around to help.

"I think we should go back..." Charlie murmured uneasily, feeling more and more unsettled as they kept following the tracks.

"Not until we get Edward back and show those brats what for..."

"Sid, I really don't think a bunch of kids would go quite this far with a prank..." Charlie insisted, trying to call his friend to reason.

"Kids get up to elaborate mischief if they think they're being clever and funny. Well, guess what you punks! This is neither!" Sidney hollered into the woods, waving his flashlight about.

"Sidney!" Charlie barked, before shushing his friend.

"Oh come off it Charlie! There's nothing to be afraid of! There's no big animals on Sodor that would pose any--"

A loud crack, akin to a snapping twig but larger, startled the two men out of their conversation. Instinctively, they turned towards the source of the noise. The fireman quickly bringing his arm up to illuminate it... Only to be met with something out of a bad horror movie.

"S-s-s-Sidney!"

"Oh my god..."

The stench of sulfur and the low growl of a monster, chilled the two to their very core, before raw instinct drove them to flee. A horrifying whistle that sounded more like a distorted howl, fallowing them to the very edge of the woods where they hoped they'd find refuge from the beast.

Edward had been right. There had been something strange in the tracks that full moon night...

And it had done something unspeakable to him.

[gikabizine]

QNA time!

The forms are closed, and there's been a total of 82 responses! Woo! Thank you so much everyone <3 (Also, psst, mods applications open tomorrow, for those interested hehe)

Though of course, you also left a lot of questions which we shall answer below!

All of these answers are being written by @somethinginworl

Why do you want to make the zine in the first place? Since the Kirby gijinka fandom is rather small and some people are either too shy to share their designs or haven’t considered even making it, I thought making a nice cozy event would be the perfect opportunity to bring the fandom together and even inspire new people to make them!

I know I said "first come first served here but like. Why can't we just. Draw whichever gijinkas we want. Just curious

Firstly, we do want to push people into making new gijinkas, or artworks of characters people usually don’t consider! Secondly, if that were the case then the zine would just be 50% Magolor. With all due respect I don’t find it exciting and I’d rather have more variety.

Will there be limited slots? Or as more people join more characters added for gijinkas.

If you’re talking about slots of the zine itself, we’ve decided 35 participants is good. If you’re talking about character slots, we do have characters planned to put in a list so people can pick, but if someone wants to pick a character that is outside of the list provided we’ll allow it to as long as it’s from Kirby.

Is this whole thing basically like a newspaper?

It’s more akin to, well, a magazine. Each page consists of one artwork/photo/illustration.

Will only certain people get certain characters?

No.

Is there a problem if you’re under 16? Does this make you unable to participate? || I was just curious since I am 16 years of age, would I need to be older to participate?

The team believes working with folks over 16 will make the event run smoothly and be more active :) So yes, you need to be 17 and over to participate.

I wonder if the anime counts in this, but if not that's fine too || Does Gijinkas of like places count? Like i have a Fountain of Dreams Gijinka and I’m like really obsessed with her, but not sure if she would count or not

We’ll count anything that is within Kirby canon, including anime and places.

After the survey time, will you send us a message?

The survey doesn’t collect emails or usernames, so no.

Would quilting or plushy making count and would that fall under arts and crafts?

Yes!

has the timeline of the zine been figured out yet? are there limited spaces?

It has! Take a look

Mod Applications

9 Nov - 16 Nov

Mod App results send

by 20 Nov

Contributor Applications

1 Feb - 15 Feb

Contributor App results send 23 Feb - 28

Contributor Confirmation Deadline

4 March

Check-in 1 15 May

Check-in 3 15 August

Final submissions 1 June

Layout & Format Revisions June 2024

Zine ready for download July 2025

and yes, it is 35 applicants.

When do we know if we're picked or not ? So I don't bring on confusion like last time

Not sure what you mean by last time, but we’ll email you if you got in or not.

Will the event need a portfolio?

Yes, we stated it in the carrd FAQ

en que idiomas se presentara? hablo español y no entendi muchas preguntas

Inglés, tenemos dos mods que hablan español (Mod Capn y Mod Michi) pero lo haremos en inglés, si tienes alguna duda nos puedes preguntar de todas formas.

Would cosplay be an acceptable medium for the zine? If so, that may affect some of my choices haha but my current answers are for 2D art ATM!

Yes! You will need to send cosplays you have designed, and since it’ll be rainbow themed you have to have some photography experience, but we’ll be far less strict on the case of cosplays. Please look at the schedule to see if you can make a cosplay in the amount of time given.

Will everyone have one character to draw or can you draw two characters together?

The character you will be assigned is supposed to be the main character within your illustration, but feel free to include any other character as long as it doesn’t take the focus away from the main.

-

And that's all folks! If you've got anymore questions, feel free to shoot us an ask! Have a nice day!

[shmowder]

LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR POLY SERIES. i binge read ALL of them and I'm beyond obsessed!!!! the way you characterize both artemy and daniil is so amazing. everything feels so in character it's all my brain needs to squeal.

I've noticed that for the most part daniil ends up eating you out while artemy fucks or breeds you. And I've been wondering how it would be if they switched places? as in artemy eats you out instead and daniil is in charge of the penetration?

i love your writing so much and discovering your blog was like finding pure gold in a clump of hay. unexpected but much welcome

-🌈 anon

"unexpected but welcome" OFBQOXJAIJDJSJS lmao, nice to have you here rainbow anon <3

You noticed that detail! I do it deliberately, giving each character a subtle preference for certain sexual activities and how they tend to behave in bed. It helps make them seem more alive and keeps the smut different and refreshing for each new character, otherwise there are only so many ways to describe having sex before it gets repetitive.

That's why I assign them a trait or two, a habit in bed they rely on the most. You noticed how Artemy prefers holding you during sex the most. He prefers penetrative sex and doesn't care for receiving oral much, big dick problems and all.

smut below...after my monologue

Meanwhile, Daniil is nearly oral obsessed, be it receiving or giving. He rarely thinks of penetration when it comes to sex. He prefers fingering you or using his hands in general. He's also the least touchy in bed, but the most vocal.

Victor prolongs the foreplay, it's his favourite part above all and he tends to edge you for hours because of it. He's also extremely aware of the passage of time.

It's nothing set in stone. Just vague guidelines to keep things fresh. I want you to be able to distinguish between the characters through sex descriptions alone without me having to say their name.

Yulia stubbornly tries to push past her limit and comfort, she wants the "masculine" role in bed, the service caring top, even when her leg makes it very hard to hold these positions. You have to be the one to accommodate it otherwise she will endure the pain just to have you on her lap a bit longer.

Stakh–While I haven't written smut about him before, I imagine him to feel... undeserving of pleasure and attention almost? He neglects his needs and focuses on satisfying you. He tends to worship your body, touching it in reverence as his wide eyes gawk at your naked form. Shaking hands and tightly shut lips, he is the least vocal during sex but the most sensitive, touch starved even. He can shed a few tears from a particularly intense orgasm

I talked about Aglay and Big Vlad before. Anyway, you get the idea. So yeah! thank you for noticing this little detail <3

-

Daniil taking Artemy's place

The size difference is the first thing you notice, the head of Daniil's cock seamlessly pops into place inside you with very little resistance. There is no painful stretch, no need for half a bottle of lube, and an almost hour of getting prepared by 4 of Artemy's thick fingers just to fit all of his girth inside you.

It adjusts to your insides clenching around it rather than the other way around, Daniil's cock brushes against your walls, slots perfectly in place.

The pace he sets is calculated, giving an experimental thrust as his hands ghost over your body. Testing the angles and observing your reaction with keen eyes.

Daniil makes a point to tell you before he goes in deeper, to inform you before he changes positions. He doesn't manhandle you around, rather coax your body into moving along with him, into following in his steps.

His fingers toy with your sensitive area, thumb grinding against your clit and circling around the bundle of nerves in rhythm with his thrusts.

Or having a steady grasp around your cock, trailing the sensitive underside and smearing the precum along the shaft. Watching it twitch and bounce with the movement of his hips.

His pretty face all flushed, a mess of fluffy black hair begging you to weave your fingers through it and tug, quiet moans slipping past his kiss-swollen lips. Daniil looks nothing short of mesmerising, half-lidded eyes filled with lust and desire.

Instructing you to meet his hips halfway, to touch yourself until you're tethering at the edge of climax before ordering you to stop.

Brushing his soaked thumb against your lips, pressing it against your tongue as he keeps your face positioned towards him, watching the drool seeping from the corner of your mouth as your whines and moans fill the room.

Rather than finishing inside, his cock slides out with a wet pop as he moves your hand to wrap around it. Jerk him off and you'll be rewarded with his cum painting your skin, stripes of white falling against your chest, stomach and pooling down your thighs.

Smearing it against your body, he makes sure to get a good amount of it on his hand before moving it between your thighs, using his cum as a lubricant to finish you with it. Watching you desperately chase your relief through his hand alone, like a sweet thing in heat, all needy and seeking his approval.

Your eyes searching for any sign of permission from him, pleading to allow you this euphoria he's tauntly keeping just out of reach.

"Aren't you being too harsh, Danya." Hearing Artemy's voice was akin to finding an oasis amidst the desert, "You poor thing, he didn't breed you like you're used to, did he?"

Your body eagerly melting into his familiar touch as the strong arms you're so used to finally find their place around you.

You go down without resistance when he guides your head by the nape to fall face first into the pillow directly next to Daniil's head, your bodies pressed together.

Artemy's cock sliding between your thighs, your hole clenching against the empty air, your body too well trained by him.

The delicious burning of being stretched on the head alone, before it's even fully in, an orgasm takes you by surprise as your insides convulse and overwhelming pleasure floods your brain, turning it to mush.

There's a surprise groan from behind you, Artemy not expecting you to clench this tightly around him so fast.

Your embarrassingly quick orgasm only surprised one of them, it seems, if Daniil's smug face was anything to go by.

"You were saying, Burakh?"

"Fuck you."

-

Artemy taking Daniil's place

It was clumsy, the way his tongue swiped against your sensitive heat, experimental licks and curious touches.

But whatever he lacked in experience, he made up for in passion and enthusiasm. Artemy's could take all of you in so easily, the wet heat of his mouth felt heavenly against you.

There was clear frustration in his attempts to reach deeper inside, as if he could will his tongue into being longer somehow. No matter how deeply he buried his head between your thighs until his nose was directly pressing against your navel, he simply wasn't satisfied.

Without a warning, he lifted your whole body up as if it was a mere toy in his hands. Adjusting your position so your thighs are directly next to his head, he wanted you to sit on his face.

Truly sit down with all of your weight, Artemy didn't allow you the space to pull away or carry your own body. He needed you resting fully on him until breaking his neck becomes an actual possibility.

This new position gave him more control.

Allowed him to eat you out with fervour, as if you were his first meal after a long, exhausting day. The way he'd suck against your sensitive spots, swallow down your wetness, and savour every taste.

His hands massaging your thighs to get you to relax and melt against him more, squishing your hips, fingers digging into your ass and leaving bruises as he pulls you even more down.

Trailing up your sides, feeling your chest with the flat of his palm. His hands moved with a mind of their own as his brain only focused on eating you out, on completely overwhelming you with pleasure until you have no choice but to finish down his throat.

A haze clouding his eyes, the way his leaking cock is pulsing between his legs, screaming at him to touch it. Artemy has to supress his instincts telling him to slam his cock into you, to properly fuck you rather than just use his tongue to bring you pleasure.

But he won't... no matter how much he wants to. He gave you a word, and so he'll do his best to fulfil it.

It's only when your thighs press against his head impossibly tight that he's nearly suffocating, does he finally realise how close to the edge you are.

Artemy attempts to fit one of his fingers inside you while he takes your clit/cock into his mouth and starts sucking on it, flickering his tongue against it until you're losing your mind.

One finger quickly becomes two, they're thicker than the average person, and knuckles deep inside you by now. Brushing and grinding against your walls

Confident in their intrusive movement, as if he has memorised your body perfectly.

He doesn't stop or slow down as your first orgasm approaches dangerously fast, a rush of euphoria that quickly twists into sharp pleasure.

Overstimulating you until your thighs are shaking, his hand keeping your hips planted on his face, you can't escape as another painful orgasm is stolen from you in a row.

There's a feral look in his eyes, you've never felt more akin to prey than now with your most vulnerable and intimate areas exposed directly in front of his face, free for the taking.

You cry out his name, tug against his hair to no avail as he milks a third orgasm out of you. Your vision blanks out for a second, the only thing keeping you upright is Artemy's hand moving to support your back.

His hunger knows no end, insatiable desire to taste all of you, to choke down on your cum until your orgasms are dry or you pass out from the burning sensation frying the nerves between your legs.

Thankfully, neither will happen tonight.

"That's enough." Daniil's gloved hand dive shamelessly under your hips, taking a hold of Artemy's tongue like a misbehaving pet, harshly pressing down. "Look at all the mess you've made. Really, I expect that from a crude animal, but you?"

The hold on your back and hips finally releases, Daniil prevents your fall by catching you in his arms, gently lowering you to the bed instead.

It's only now that you notice the sharp teeth mark littering your inner thighs, the wetness covering Artemy's mouth and neck, how drenched his chest is.

You're met with the most satisfied look on Artemy's face, a sincere smile that has no right looking this innocent after all that he's put you through... Still, the sight of his usual glaring eyes being soft and relaxed for once is not something you'll ever forget.

It's hard to be annoyed at someone who manages to look breathtakingly beautiful after eating you out until you nearly passed out. It's so much harder when he calls you that endearing petname with his lovely deep voice.

"Shhh... you did well, Kheerkhen ." Artemy cradles your face with his hand, a gentle kiss against the corner of your lips, then your cheek, up next to your eye, and a final one against your temple. "Get some rest."

Your eyes flutter shut, and the world around you quiets down as you drift off to sleep.

[mayasaura]

Hello I see you are succumbing to the Ace Attorney Brainrot TM. If Harrow is Edgeworth, then presumably Gideon is Phoenix. Does that make the very bad teens or Palamedes her court-assigned weird little girl?

WELL, thank you for asking!!! You might just live to regret it.

The main connection is really Harrow 🤝 Edgeworth: I only think I killed my own father daddy issues, and that special kind of dorky tsundere approach to relationships. "Thanks to you, I am saddled with.... unnecessary feelings." vs. "[You were born so attractive] because everyone would have throttled you within the first five minutes otherwise," ect.

Then, of course, there's the counterpart of Gideon 🤝 Phoenix: "All books are basically the same size, right?" vs. "I tried to read a law book, and it made my head hurt. Then I dropped it, and it made my foot hurt." A sarcastic internal monologue that rarely becomes external, a drive to help others boarding on the self-destructive. And, of course, so desperate for a certain someone's attention, they'd switch career paths and life's ambition rather than be ignored. If some spoilers I've seen for later AA games are to be believed, they also both get the depression and hole themselves up in response to the world's overwhelming shittiness. 😔

So! To finally answer your actual question, Gideon's court appointed weird girl could go two ways:

1) Jeannemary and Isaac assigned baby siblings at crime scene when Gideon's mentor, Abigail, is murdered.

2) Completely change the dynamic, and Camilla is the "assistant" who herds Gideon around, gives her hints in court, and is occasionally possessed by Gideon's kind and wise mentor, Palamedes. I think I like this one better because Abigail never actually met Gideon, and making her Mia is trading solely on her psychopomp cred. Palamedes and Gideon had a connection. She trusted him. And Camilla standing trial for Palamedes' murder is so juicy.

I think that's about as far as I can take it. Slotting the rest of the characters into the Phoenix Wright setting would mostly take writing entirely new mysteries.

Unless.....

Pyrrha should be high up in the police force, but she's no Gant. If John isn't Von Karma, he could be Gant as a different breed of genial monster with a taste for the grandiose. Ianthe has potential as Lana—extremely unhelpful, in over her head, and trying to protect her sister.

Ortus is Gumshoe. I am not accepting constructive criticism at this time. <3

[apt502-if]

Wait, how does the whole boss plot work with M? Because I can't see how being the boss' fav would help a teacher out. Or musician because ain't that mostly based on talent and stage presence and stuff? Writer, news anchor, I can get (getting your assignment of choice, or more air time etc.). Bartender, even that (manager position?). But the rest, not really. 🤔

One of the great things about sitcoms is that a lot of the situations stretch 'reality' far enough that wacky situations can be accepted and still be considered realistic!

You probably missed it but the creative routes aren't freelance. You work in a company....well, you did, until I actually changed it.

Teacher: Teachers have had to share classrooms due to being underfunded. MC is one of a group of teachers who got hired to the school, making the space even smaller. M and MC have to share a classroom but there's an opening for a class transfer to have your own room. Everyone is fighting for it, including M and MC. Whoever doesn't win it will have to continue sharing a classroom. (The room is too small for two classes, so a lucky teacher gets it to themself.)

Musician was supposed to be part of a company but now, MC and M will be fighting for a 'headliner' spot to perform at the bar (which another MC can also work at lol). The twist to this is that Athena/Atlas will be doing the same thing, but they don't care enough to involve themself in M and MC's feud lmao.

A: "whoever wins, wins. Idgaf."

And yeah, they can judge it off talent and who draws a crowd but they all produce similar results. Makes no difference tbh.

Bartender, as you said, is the manager position for the new location. News anchor is fighting of their own segment :P

Writers: so instead of a magazine, MC and M will be editors for a publishing company...and they will be fighting for a certain someone's next book. *cough*G*cough*

also romancing G will not make it easier as G has nothing to do with the process (makes more sense in the story.)

Edit: i forgot artists! They're fighting for the final slot at an art opening/art viewing!

In every route, the boss is pretty shallow and likes to a kiss up.

Also i wanted the story to be such a 'small world' idea that everyone is connected to everyone, so i changed it hehe

im not striving for 10000% realism. i just want it to be fun and quirky. hope that answers that! I hope people like these changes because I definitely prefer it.

[theambitiouswoman]

Hello

How do I figure out when to do/schedule certain tasks throughout the day?

I struggle with when to do what do you have any tips?

First figure our your priorities. Make a list of all the tasks you need to accomplish. Determine which tasks are the most important and time-sensitive. These should be your top priorities.

I will say this, sometimes when I absolutely have no motivation I will do the tasks I enjoy most to get in the right headspace. Obviously this wouldn’t apply if you have time sensitive tasks.

Pay attention to your energy levels throughout the day. Some people have more energy and focus in the morning, while others are more productive in the afternoon or evening. I am more effective in the very early morning and late afternoon. My schedule is based around that and the tasks I need to get done. Take note of your own patterns and plan your tasks accordingly. Typically you will want to schedule more challenging or mentally demanding tasks during your peak energy periods.

Take into account any external factors that may impact your schedule. For example, if you have meetings, appointments, or other commitments, schedule your tasks around them. Also, consider any time constraints or deadlines associated with specific tasks.

Break down larger tasks into smaller, manageable subtasks. This is very important because 1. Sometimes our goals seem unrealistic until we break them down and 2. Breaking them down helps us create a cohesive plan of action and determine how much work and dedication it takes to complete the task. Sometimes not knowing keeps us in our heads and stops us from being productive. Once you know exactly what needs to get done it will be easier to navigate through your to-dos.

What I also do on days that my work is constrained to computer, is I establish crunch periods. 45-50 minute intervals and then a small break.

I have found that you can get more done in an intense 4 hour work session than I do working 12 hours. I accomplish this by turning off my phone and cutting off absolutely all distractions. Just me, my computer and my task list.

Use a calendar or planner to create a visual schedule for your day. I use a calendar and the notes app on my phone. I write specific details more in-depth on an actual notepad.

On your calendar. start by blocking off fixed commitments such as meetings or appointments. Then, assign specific time slots for your tasks based on their priority, energy requirements, and estimated duration. Be realistic with your time estimates, allowing some buffer time for unexpected interruptions or delays.

At the end of each day, review your schedule and evaluate how well it worked for you. Make a note of any tasks that took longer than expected or tasks that could be better placed at a different time. Use this feedback to adjust and refine your schedule for future days.

Everyone's preferences and productivity patterns may vary and it may take some trial and error to find out what works best for you. The most important thing is to go into the day with a plan and minimize as many distractions as possible.

[final-girl96]

Ageless Secrets Chapter Two

A/N: So, this chapter only came about because I had my headphones on, listening to my music way too loud. I had a different idea in mind, but then I created this. Honestly, I like it better than my original idea. It's fun. And it's a little glimpse into how Joel had started to have certain feelings that he was desperately trying to push down.

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

Boston QZ

June 2009

Joel

Joel walked into the apartment Tess and yn were assigned to when they got to the QZ a year ago. Tess was out on a run, they had upgraded from raiders to smugglers. She had asked Joel to look in on her sister, yn. He had knocked before using the key Tess gave him and walking into the small apartment. I sighed at the sight he saw when he turned around after closing the door. The twenty-one year old had a Walkman in her hand, headphones over her ears, and was dancing around, singing I Love Rock ‘N Roll by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts.

It wouldn't be the first time he's walked in on her doing this. She always had that Walkman with her, along with several cassettes. He couldn't pull his eyes away from her swinging hips. He could hear the muffled music that floated out of her headphones from how loud she had the volume up. She had her arms over her head, hips swinging back and forth while she sang along with the song. He swallowed thickly and pulled his eyes away from her ass.

He had to remind himself that he was too old for her; she was still a kid. She's only a couple years older than Sarah would be. He cleared his throat even though he knew she couldn't hear him. When he got himself composed he walked up behind her and pulled her headphones off her head. “What the fuck!” She screamed in surprise, spinning around, and clocking him in the jaw. Fucking dammit!”

“What the hell, Joel! You can't just walk into someone's apartment without announcing yourself!” He rubbed his jaw and glared at her. “I fucking knocked! You're the one in her fucking around. You're gonna get yourself killed wearing that shit!” She rolled her eyes at him and walked over to the dining room table. “What do you want?” She asked, picking up the small tumbler glass that had an amber liquid in it. “Tess asked me to look in on you.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Well, I'm fine. How about you sit down and have a drink?” She walked over to the boombox on a dresser, pulled the cassette out of her Walkman and put it in the cassette slot of the boombox. “Come on, relax a little, Joel!” He looked at the bottle of whiskey on the table and sighed. He had a long day today and wasn't in the mood to argue. So he sat down in a chair at the table and poured himself a glass. Yn hit play and Deniece Williams Let's Hear it for the Boy started to play.

Joel rolled his eyes, groaning, and knocking back his drink, and poured himself another. Of course it was her own personal mixtape she had made. She danced over to the table taking a sip of her drink and then started drinking. He could tell she had a few drinks already with how relaxed she was. She danced around, glass in hand, and sang along. He didn't mind too much since she had a decent voice; a great voice actually. She knocked the rest of the amber liquid back and poured herself another.

Cause every time he pulls me near

I just wanna cheer

Let's hear it for the boy

Ah, let's give the boy a hand

Let's hear it for my baby

You know you gotta understand

Oh, maybe he's no Romeo

But he's my lovin' one-man show

Oh, whoa-oa-oa

Let's hear it for the boy

He hid his smile behind his glass and watched her dance around. She always seemed more relaxed around him when Tess wasn't present. Once the song was over Hot Me With Your Best Shot by Pat Banatar came on. “Hit me with your best shot. Hit me with your best shot! Fire away!!!” She sang, pointing at him, dancing in a circle. Joel shook his head at her and finished what was in his glass, pouring another one.

Well you're the real tough cookie with a long history

Of breaking little hearts like the one in me

Before I put another notch in my lipstick case

You better make sure you put me in my place

That's all they did. Joel sat and drank while yn danced around and sang. He could appreciate her taste in music. They were listening to Summer of ‘69 by Bryan Adams right now. Yn had sat down for a small break. She swayed to the music, a small smile on her face, and softly singing. He remembers when she found the Walkman in a house they were staying in before they got to the QZ. It was the first thing that truly made her happy since he and Tommy teamed up with her and Tess.

At first he thought she would skip over all 80s cassettes and go for the boy bands and Brittany Spears kind of cassettes that had clearly belonged to a teenage girl. But she went for the older stuff. The Clash, Queen, ACDC, Metallica, Madonna, Billy Joel amongst a lot more. He had noticed she liked the 80s and before; mostly rock and roll.

He almost died when Def Leppard Pour Some Sugar On Me came on. Yn was out of her seat and swinging her hips. It did not help him the least bit with trying to keep his pants from getting tight. Especially, with the shirt, tight jean shorts she had on with a band shirt she had cut into a crop-top. He hadn't noticed before but he could see her black bra peeking out from the bottom of her shirt. She turned and looked him directly in the eyes and sang.

I'm hot, sticky sweet

From my head to my feet, yeah

He thought he was going to fall out of his chair the way she looked at him while swaying her hips. She knew actually what she was doing as she sang along. He was way too drunk for this shit. All he could do was picture himself launching himself out of his chair and taking her right there on the fucking table.

You got the peaches, I got the cream

Sweet to taste, saccharine

'Cause I'm hot (hot), say what, sticky sweet

From my head (head), my head, to my feet

She walked closer to him with each word.

Do you take sugar? One lump or two?

Take a bottle (take a bottle), shake it up (shake it up)

Break the bubble (break it up), break it up

Then she turned around and began to sway those hips right in his lap. He grabbed the whole bottle of whiskey and chugged. Before he knew what he was doing, probably because it was fueled by the alcohol coursing through his blood stream, his hands were on her hips, helping her move. She was damn near sitting in his lap. Okay, no, she was giving him a full on lap dance right now and he didn't want to stop the And he probably wouldn't have stopped it if there wasn't a banging on the door just as the song ended.

[thryth-gaming]

Vancian Casting

One of the key mechanics of D&D is Vancian spellcasting where the spellcasters have a certain number of "spell slots" that they can prepare in a given day. Magic Users (the precursors to wizards, warlocks, and sorcerers) would "memorize" spells and the Clerics (and later Paladins) would "pray" for spells. Later, druids and rangers would be added which would also pray for spells.

This was one of my biggest stumbling blocks for getting D&D magic because it didn't make sense to me that you just stopped knowing something because you used it once. And while I get the idea of becoming tired, the spell slot system was too rigid to represent how exhaustion works.

The Concept Broken Down

This is called Vancian magic because it is based on the Dying Earth novels by Jack Vance. None of which I've read, which probably contributes to my just not meshing well with Vancian casting.

In the series, magic was released by using magical words and the human mind could only hold a limited number of syllables in mind at a time and using them would wipe the knowledge from their mind. So the wizards would have to study their tomes everyday to regain their ability to perform magic. This mechanic was carried over to priests save that they would begin the day by asking their god for specific miracles. In both cases, the spellcaster needed to pick specific spells and couldn't change over to different ones if they decided that they didn't need a prepared spell after-all.

Raymond Feist, the novelist who created the Midkemia setting and wrote the Riftward novels, did some earlier work on D&D and refined this narrative into the idea that spells were long rituals but wizards had eventually built in a cutoff at the end where they could leave a spell unfinished save for a word or two. They would then have that spell basically just hanging on their word to release. Mechanically similar, though the narrative is different.

I have read some of that series and his approach to Vancian casting was the first one that made some sense. It accounted for why you "forgot" a spell. You didn't, you just expended the ritual and didn't have time to set it up again. And it explained why you had to prep spells ahead of time. Again there would be no time to do the ritual on the fly. However, it still didn't account for why the spell slots were rigidly structured on a level basis. And I still felt that surely you could do something with all that raw power even if you couldn't shape something intricate.

My Epiphany

What finally made the idea of magic slots work for me ... sort of ... is the video game Nioh 2. But even here there aren't slots, there's a "capacity" and each technique uses up a certain number of points of that capacity. But that's not the big "ohhh" moment for me here.

In Nioh 2, your Onmyou (and Ninjutsu) are physical tools and talismans which are consumed. So you would go to the nearest shrine and choose to "Ready Jutsu"

This would bring you to a menu show your capacity and what skills you've learned.

And then you could assign those pieces of gear to one of your eight hot-key slots. Resulting in me having a bunch of stuff I want available immediately and some items I use between fights so I can take my time about activating them and thus don't need to use one of my limited hot-buttons.

The main thing that made me go "That makes Vancian magic make so much more sense" even more than Feist's rituals with the cut-offs. Is that each of these tools is a consumable item and once you use it, you have to make another one.

The energy isn't something you have on tap where rituals are used to funnel it. It is something you take effort and time to create and then you expend it like a grenade, potion, or ammunition.

On top of this, Nioh 2 does have powers that you can use repeatedly over time as power builds up in the form of yokai powers and yokai shift. Both of which hinge on your nature as half-yokai and the yokai spirits that have allied with you. For these powers you have two pools of endurance that build up over time, one of which you can use piecemeal to summon your yokai powers and one of which you have to build up to a specific threshold in order to shift into a yokai form.

So they both have consumable one-use spells in the way D&D does in the form of Jutsu and inherent magical energy to fuel powers in the form of Anima (fueling yokai powers) and the Amrita Gauge (the threshold for changing into yokai form). But they are separated.

I'm going to set aside Anima and Amrita because they are basically "Sorcery that makes sense" and function by getting rid of spell slots.

The Jutsu is the method I'm focusing on here again because:

Each prepared "slot" represents a tool prepared using engineering, chemistty, mystical reagents, or appealing to spirits.

The stuff that makes the tools and talismans is external to the character.

The slots are not specifically numbered. As a note, point pools have been an alternative magic casting method since late 2nd edition.

This combination of creating a physical consumable and dropping the level-sorted slots was the thing that made Vancian casting make so much more sense. But then again... this wouldn't be Vancian casting, would it?

Side note, another facet of Nioh 2's "Jutsu" system is that leveling up the skill does not improve the damage that technique does. Fire Shot I, Fire Shot II, and Fire Shot III all base their damage on your Magic rating and other inherent bonuses.

What leveling up the skills does is increase their efficiency and increase the maximum number you can craft. For example

Fire Shot I: Prepare 1-6 fire shot talismans at 1 capacity each.

Fire Shot II: Prepare 1-8 fire shot talismans at 0.8 capacity each

Fire Shot III: Prepare 1-10 fire shot talismans at 0.7 capacity each.

This is largely just neat and not part of my epiphany on Nioh 2 and Vancian casting.

Now, you can't just change D&D to match that. It would be a completely different flavor of magic. But it is curious to see how it things would have developed if they had taken this track.

What If...

The big change here is that this mode of "magic" is more akin to being a D&D artificer than a D&D wizard. As you can also see, it would also have worked with some rogue abilities too with craftable thrown weapons, grenades, and medicines.

My suspicion is that if D&D had started with the assumption of wizards and clerics preparing relics and talismans between fights then it would be the sorcerer that was a late comer rather than the artificer. Though the artificer might not have been called such since it would be the base assumption.

I kind of suspect if the sorcerer had been introduced in that environment we would have heard something akin to the "no sci-fi in my fantasy" we get with artificers today but instead we'd be having "no mutant superheroes in my fantasy" with sorcerers.

[libras-interactives]

DO YOU HAVE ANY TRIO (marius, jack, and mc) MOMENTS YOU CAN GIVE??? DRABBLES, THOUGHTS, OR ANYTHING?? IM SORRYY I JUST I LOVE THEIR DYNAMIC SM

if its not any trouble ofc 👀

I had some thoughts!! Some miiinor maybe kinda spoilers? Some may be mentioned in the story, some may not. So i'll put a cut just in case LOL.

Gunner!MC taught Marius how to hold a gun properly. It's kind of ridiculous how he went this long without knowing, but from the jump it's obvious the young man didn't lead a normal life before coming across Flynn. He just ... appeared one day, and no one really knew where he came from, though apparently he was related to Flynn's coveted Eva Beau. That kept most people away from him, but Musician!MC had no such reservations. Marius would've approached them first, complimenting their music with his usual charm, totally out of place at the Duchess with his shabby clothes and just-off-the-boat broken English.

Accountant!MC would've helped him get situated in Chicago best, explaining the places to shop and the currency. Distiller!MC even had him help around the distillery and storage, and quickly learned Marius was something of a vagabond - and he liked it that way. He had no interest in the straight and narrow kind of life. Callgirl!MC couldn't blame him, and the two bonded over similar taste in men and cons and fashion. Regardless of the MC's thoughts on him initially, Marius attached himself, and went from a fairweather friend to dutifully loyal within half a year. Partners-in-crime seemed to be something he was used to having back in France and England, and he was eager to reform that kind of bond. It's hard to see him as some hardened criminal, though, with that dashing smile and carefree personality ... maybe that's why he got away with so much and kept pushing the envelope.

Marius met with Jack before MC did. In spite of his odd looks and size, Jack kept himself shadowed and small. He was fearful at anyone approaching, and preferred to work alone, which was tricky - his face was too distinct to be out in public, he did not want to be found by certain individuals. Flynn was the only way to hide, and Jack was used to answering to a frightening authority. He wasn't used to a friend, and Marius' attempts were frightening for a while.

Eventually Marius dragged Jack along on his own jobs, and he was (mostly willingly) included in with Marius' friendship with MC. A femme!MC would be a bit more intimidating - he's still a young man with limited to no experience with 'womenfolk'. A Gunner!MC is especially scary at first, until he realizes they won't actually hurt him... and they know to best weaponize Jack's own 'scary' side. A Callgirl!MC quit teasing him early on, realizing how uncomfortable it made him, and got him to lower his guard the fastest. She often thinks that she reminds Jack of someone else, because he's slipped up and nearly called her by a different name a few times. The Musician!MC gets him to open up and actually sing along to a song - only if it's just the three of them, of course - and puts him at ease like Marius. An Accountant!MC can be something of an older sibling or even parent, fussing about his clothes and eating habits and overall ignorance of the world, not just the big city (how are these two alive? Seriously.) Distiller!MC and Jack, meanwhile, often share amiable silence as they observe crowds or work alongside each other. They both know when to reel Marius in and when to let him be.

Marius and Jack's friendship felt much more complete when MC joined, like a missing piece slotting into place. Their temperments suit each other well, and they know most of each other's flaws ... and most of each other's stories. Some things have been unsaid, or unasked, and that's alright for now.

Flynn cares little about the trio, other than they can get their assigned jobs done - he places little stock in Marius and Jack individually, and knows they'll fall in line behind the MC. He's not worried, but a certain other trio are thinking Marius, Jack and MC hold more loyalty to each other than their employer ...

[ballet-symphonie]

I’m confused about vaganova castings. Do teachers assign roles? Or do they hold auditions.

Can roles be given and taken away?There was a picture of Natasha furman rehearsing the bunny in fairy doll, but Yasmina Aziz danced it on stage, while Furman did something else.

So far there have been three different girls performing the Fairy doll. Do they alternate based on merit? Injury? Vibes?

I'm not sure about all the details of VBA castings, but for the younger students, they absolutely hold auditions, there's been lots of footage released from these in various documentaries. For the older students, I assume it is a mix of more informal auditions, (trying certain phrases and steps in classes) and teacher/administration discretion.

The remainder is a summary of casting processes from my own experiences as a professional:

Roles can absolutely be given and taken away. It's not uncommon for there to be 3-4 casts that end up on stage. During the rehearsal process, often 6 casts might rehearse and prepare the piece. Often, you'll know who the first and second casts are, sometimes they will be announced or sometimes you can just guess- often seasoned and favorite dancers, or someone who is just clearly the best in that role (or the admin's favorite). But, the rest of the people will be fighting to get a chance to perform on stage. It's very possible that you will be rehearsing something for months, and then never go on stage, an experience that is quite common and companies of all levels.

The girls will alternate based on the administration's discretion, a mix of merit and vibes. Typically, the opening night goes to the first cast, which is considered to be the best and strongest. It's popular in the industry to give matinee shows to younger, less experienced, or sometimes less prepared dancers rather than giving them chances in prime time evening slots. Of course, casting gets shuffled up very quickly when someone gets injured.