#fishnets save the day

[tirsden]

A couple of my most recent outfits in Infinity Nikki. I call the second one, "Look Mom, I'm in a rap video!"

Random miralevel check-in, go:

[tumblerislovetumblerislife]

every day is put-charles-in-pretty-outfits day if you believe hard enough (colour ver)

special thanks to @carebeardean, from whom i stole most of the refs, and @dearheartdont, who suggested charles with LOVE tattooed on both knuckles <3

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

 book 7 chapter 12 part 3 thoughts!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 12 OF THE MAIN STORY!!*** This spans part 269 to part 294, focusing on Riddle.

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that roughly unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

They land in a new location! New assets and everything. Trey identifies it as Crimson City in the Queendom of Roses.

This update opens with Silver showing the first signs of fatigue. (He audibly sighs; Ortho shows concern.) Silver insists he is fine but advises they avoid battles.

Cater laughs at Trey’s expense. He has never heard him scream so loud!! They should go to an amusement park in the waking world together. This is ironic xhsnsvekakw because these two technically did go to Playful Land together 😂

Trey begins to worry about where his glasses have gone. Apparently they fell off while they were hopping to Riddle’s dream. Idia says searching for lost items in a dream can be difficult but Trey would have perfect vision if he thinks hard enough about it. (Me, sitting here: this is a dream. Can you not literally just conjure up a new pair by imagining it.) Trey’s vision is so bad (he’s squinting just to see people’s faces) and he’s had glasses since preschool, so it’s hard for him to do that.

Ortho suggests using S.T.Y.X. tech and data to make Trey new glasses. But then Ace interrupts and announces he snagged Trey’s glasses. He saw them while falling and brought them to himself using magic; they aren’t damaged. The others, even Leona, praise him. (… but I don’t, because what is this time wasting nonsense 😭 MOVE ON ALREADY…) For a first year, his magic control is very good. Is it because he’s dexterous from basketball?

In exchange for saving the glasses, Ace asks for a cherry pie at the next unbirthday party.

LMAO apparently Ace got to practice using magic precisely because of being in Heartslabyul. Changing the color of the roses + other unbirthday party prep is done with magic. Ace also quickly learned how to clean up using magic to avoid Riddle’s wrath when the dorm leader patrols.

UHHHHH a police car starts chasing them?? It stops and a policeman exits, pulling… R rIDDLE?????!!??!?!?!

THE HE c K Is tHIS… CAtER MiSTAKES HIM FOR a CUTE giRL OR A MAGICAM INFLUENCER (IN thE FULL bODY MODEL YOU CAN SEE FisHNETS ON HIS leGS)

He calls the police officer an “old man” and speaks in a different cadence than usual. Higher pitched and more childlike. UHHHHH RIDDLE USES RUDE SLANG TOO… It’s not slang I understand; Adeuce identify it as exclusive to the Queendom of Roses

Errrrrrr, so Riddle was arrested for singing in the streets. He says he doesn’t see why people have to follow the rules 😱

Ah, Chenya’s in this dream!! He was in the cop car as well.

vdkabsjsvsusbkxks OH MY GOD Trey’s sounding like a concerned father 👨 Riddle spots Trey and gets all excited; the animation of the live 2D models also implies Riddle is grabbing and clinging to Trey’s arm.

Riddle and Chenya got arrested for starting a “surprise live” in front of the police station. (A “surprise live” is a spontaneous musical performance done in the streets or in public; they’re common in Japan.) They’re in a 2-man band! Riddle is the vocals and Chenya plays bass. It’s hard to keep members because Riddle keeps changing what kind of music they play. He says it’s boring to play the same thing every day.

Riddle doesn’t recognize everyone else so they reintroduce themselves. xhdvsjwbwkw Leona is smart enough to just call himself by first name; the last name might have given away that he’s royalty. (Typically, giving only your first name is a sign of familiarity or casualness in Japanese culture, but I don’t think that was the intention here.)

Riddle asks them to play with him in his band. H needs a guitarist, drummer, and keyboard player! Backup dancers and composers are also welcome, but even if not experienced.

Cater coming in clutch again… He volunteers to play guitar and changes into his Pop/Light Music Club uniform.

THIS iS SO WEIRD… Riddle calls Cater “Cay-kun” and “nii-san” 💀 Cater is freaked out by this too, even though he told Riddle earlier it was okay to call him “Cay-kun”.

Cater lies and says everyone else with him is skilled at playing too. For example, Leona is as good as a professional at drumming!! Leona starts to protest but Cater shuts him up. They need to do this to investigate 🎵 I continue to be baffled at how active Cater is in this dream and the last two. Holy hell, leave some crumbs for the rest of us…

DROPS TO KNEES AnD WEE PS OTL LEONA CHSnges tO HIS DIRM unIFORM AnD DAYS SoME CORNh shIT AbOUT HoW hEmMa SkILLED At DRUMS (lying bitch) THERe’A SpArKLE EFFDcts AnD EVERYTHING

Adeuce and Grim bring up their VDC experience (+ how Rook gave them 100 points in beauty)! Ortho volunteers his synthesizing abilities. He also can do lighting and video production. Sebek has been playing violin since he was little because he admires Malleus (erm, though Harveston Sledathon showed us Sebek sucks at playing it sooooo—). Silver says his farther showed him how to play the ocarina.

Riddle is so excited to have so many different people joining him. No matter how many times he invites Trey, he doesn’t join the band. Cater teases Trey and says his singing for their dorm’s events isn’t bad.

Riddle suddenly invites everyone to his house for tea?! This alarms Trey, but Riddle insists his mom will be happy to see him.

Trey worries the strawberry tart he brought with him from his own dream will get them in trouble. Cater and Grim offer to eat it in case of emergency!

L ch avajGqian SRBRk 😭 He says Riddle’s mom can’f be anywhere near as fierce as Malleus’s mom…

Leona starts to say something but doesn’t finish the thought.

Aaaand here we are at the Rosehearts residence!! Look at all the family photos. (This is not what the home looks like irl; there aren’t this many photographs, probably because Riddle implies that his parents don’t have a happy marriage 😢)

WhAT YhD fuKKKJKKk

Riddle’s mom speaks in a much higher pitched voice and sounds so caring. (We don’t get to see her; it’s just a voice since she’s speaking from the kitchen.) She calls him “Riddle-chan” and is happy he brought so many friends.

Chenya notices the strawberry tart Trey brought in. Grim tries to eat it but Riddle explodes on him, saying that it is HIS. Riddle’s mom is okay with this 💀 and Riddle confesses he has tarts twice a week, even when it is not his birthday.

Riddle goes to have his mom slice the tart up. As soon as he leaves, Trey releases a HUGE breath. He was so nervous about Mrs. Rosehearts losing her temper. Ortho senses his vitals shooting through the roof and recommends he sits down.

They start looking at the photos on the wall. Oh, Riddle’s dad is there too. Ace comments that the focus of the pictures if Riddle while the parents’ faces are blurry. (Is it because Riddle cannot imagine what his parents’ happy faces look like 😭) One of the pics is 6th grade sports day (an egg balancing on a spoon race), another is them swimming, Halloween, etc. Riddle was able to have a happy childhood with Chenya and Trey; their families hang out too.

Lore about family photos time?? Cater’s sisters and mom of course love to take them. Ace’s mom shows baby photos in the house. Sebek’s dad wants to take pictures more than his mom does. Deuce’s mom uses her phone. He has the framed photos in the closet in his rebellious phrase but wants to take them out when he wakes up. Lilia has an instant camera and uses it to take pictures once a year on Silver’s birthday. The Shroud parents have family photos at their work desks. Ortho regularly sends them photos and videos of school events.

Leona’s special cuz he’s a ✨ prince ✨ A newspaper has a photographer assigned to the royal family. He’d take pics without permission and the public relations officer had to confiscate them. Leona naturally hates family reunions that are arranged just to enhance their image. They’re not fun and people just pretend to be friendly.

dbjsbsjwjens Leona doesn’t really have photos of himself when he was young but his mom and Kifaji would take casual pics. He hates when he gets pestered for photos… like his Ceremonial Robes vignettes! Apparently they want the pictures to decorate the private dining room, Mr. Kingscholar’s hospital room, etc.

Ummmmmmmmmmm… Trey ain’t lookin’ so hot…

He says he has no memories of what is in these photographs. He + Chenya only played with Riddle for a month or two before the tart incident, and Riddle went to a private school whereas he + Chenya were public.

Riddle drops 5 sugar cubes into black tea, plus plenty of milk and honey. Leona makes a snide remark about how it’s rude for the host to not take the guest’s preferences into consideration to serve them OTL (you’re so right, king—)

Riddle offers everyone a chiffon cake and butter cookies his mom made. But… hm? That’s weird. They taste strangely hard and aren’t very sweet. Trey automatically identifies the ingredients; they must be the healthy ingredients Mrs. Rosehearts actually uses irl, because Riddle’s imagination is pulling from memories of his mom’s cooking.

Chenya can use magic but… Riddle can’t?! His dad is a novelist who writes stories with his son as the protagonist and his mom is a housewife full time. Neither can use magic.

sdlhbsdyoaeyai RIDDLE SHOUTED ME OUT/j He said that him being able to use magic is "as impossible as a raven being like a writing desk" 😇

Riddle becomes upset that they’re whispering to each other. They should speak up at his tea party!!

HUHHHHHHHH Riddle says be didn’t go to school?????? And he hates studying?! Deuce shouts that he uses to hate school and studying, but at NRC his dorm leader and the teachers taught him well. dhsvsjjww Riddle hates books without illustrations, but Sebek counters that there are books that will suit his taste.

Riddle doesn’t want to read??? His dad will tell him stories orally while Riddle plays with toys. And he works from home, so Riddle can ask him whatever he wants whenever he wants.

Cater brings up play croquet at their dorm.

Uuuh Riddle becomes fed up with the topic and demands it be changed. No problemo, cuz Ace was gonna talk off the cuff anyway. People start to consider leaving the band due to Riddle’s inability to read the room and his lack of ambition.

Riddle gets mad and starts raging. In seeps the darkness. We try to leave but Riddle prevents them. The entire room they’re in becomes like… locked? So they cannot leave.

A simple color palette swap makes this look like a scene straight out of a horror game.

A bunch of tea rushes in from another room and everyone works together to close it. They dream form change out of their tea-Soaked clothing.

They deduce that the room itself is the NPC and it must have been pretending to speak in Riddle’s parents’ voices since no one ever saw them. The room where Riddle’s dad works produces a flood of manuscripts, whereas the kitchen is a torrent of black tea. Suddenly, a hand emerges from the tea…! IT’S RIDDLE’S MOM TRYING To DrAg ThEM IN

They hear humming and Chenya appears! Leona threatens to turn the house to sand BUT HE GETS COLLARED 💀 Trey tries to overwrite the collar with his own UM but gets collared too. “Anyone that tries to escape the house will be beheaded”, according to the dreamer’s will.

It’s hard for them to locate Riddle; the space keeps twisting and turning and the magic formula governing it keeps rewriting itself.

ERRRRRR the black tea in the room is increasing even if nothing is gushing in from the kitchen anymore… This truly is one big horror movie now OTL

They try to climb onto/into stuff to keep afloat. Then we hear someone crying… Riddle? His tears are what’s filling up the room. He says, “I want to get out…” UM???? Of your living situation????? (Not me laughing around Leona saying in his most insincere voice “We’ll help you, so show yourself”…)

Leona compares Riddle to a rose with thorns, hurting people indiscriminately. (Okay, oddly poetic when you’re on the brink of death but sure, pop off)

Trey begs dream!Chenya to please show them the way to Riddle. The other card soldiers speak up and talk about how strong and admirable of a leader Riddle is. Finally, Chenya agrees to show them a shortcut.

ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

We cut away to Idia’s dream?? He is preparing hacks and such for the final battle against Malleus. But um?? Is struggling to reconnect to Ortho and the others to provide support.

Suddenly, knocking at his door! Idia wonders if it is S.T.Y.X. staff???? UH-OH IT’S MALLEUS AND HE DEMANDS TO BE LET IN (he realizes Idia is awake)

We don’t get to see what happens to Idia; we cut back to the second layer of Riddle’s dream. It’s a ruined rose garden…

Ortho realizes the connection to Idia was dropped…

Riddle is berating some mobs (rule 372: if a red mushroom grows, the roses must be white). He has dream!Adeuce send them off to a punishment room where they have to write down rules 300 to 500.

Dream!Cater overhears some mobs whining. He and dream!Trey remind everyone Riddle is always correct and they should salute and follow him. Riddle has an evil laugh… and then has a smile as he says his mother was right all along.

Seeing this, Trey wonders if this is the future that would have happened if he didn’t get “lucky” and overwrite Riddle’s magic that one time.

Oh???? Silver says his father told him magic originally was a miracle birthed from a strong desire in the heart. He says that it was, then, no mistake that Trey’s Paint the Roses trumped Riddle’s magic. It was Trey’s own strong desire to stop Riddle that allowed him to turn the rose bushes into playing cards.

Chenya reappears and offers to show us more. He sneaks over, pulls on Riddle’s cloak, and makes him fall over?! Which pisses him off, obviously.

Riddle blows away the bushes we’re using to hide and is shocked to see doubles of his students. Leona gets fed up and confronts Riddle about how this is all a dream.

LMAOvvvvvsnbabzgajavaowkw Dream!Trey tells Riddle to not listen to Leona… LEONA IS A CORRUPTING FORCE AND A BAD INFLUENCE 💀 I want to argue, but… he sort of has a point…

Riddle commands we be captured and taken to the punishment room too. The mobs start to praise Riddle for everything he has done for them, including (for some reason) lowering their tension and giving them a reason to live????

Leona tells Riddle’s it’s empty and meaningless to be cheered on by an illusion. But Riddle insists he is happy this way. THIS IS SAD, he’s equating fear, respect, and love… What the fuck does this say about his own feelings towards his mother??

A bunch of Heartslabyul students descend on them. Without help from Idia, we can’t defend!! We tear off into smaller groups and run into the rose maze.

This is fr so sick and twisted 💀 Riddle is starting to wake, but dream!Cater and Trey tell him not to think of painful things. If he wakes up, everyone will hate him and he will be alone again—and Riddle doesn’t want that, right? So Riddle agrees, no one should be able to leave the world of dreams.

Okay so group 1 is Yuu, Grim, Sebek, and Ace. Group 2 is Leona and Deuce. Group 3 is Silver and Cater. Group 4 is Trey and Ortho.

Their phones don’t work so they cannot text or call each other.

Rule 63 is this: those who upset the queen in her court will be chased in the rose maze by card soldiers. If you try to climb or jump over the trees, they will attack you. In Diasomnia, there are thorns under the drawbridge that have a similar protective function. Though now, Malleus has a protective barrier around the dorm.

They hear Deuce calling out to them and Ace is suspicious. He tells Sebek, Yuu, and Grim to be quiet and let him handle this.

Ace goes up to Deuce and “reveals” himself to be darkness. Deuce is relieved and reveals himself to be darkness too. Ace, pretending to be darkness, tries to convince dream!Deuce that the real Deuce and Leona went “this way”. Unfortunately, Sebek concludes Ace was actually darkness and intended to betray us. So Grim breathes fire, melting away the wax (?) Ace was using to disguise himself as darkness and he realizes their mistake.

dbsjbsjw THERE’S a SiLLY TRUMPET SfX TO suMMON THE oTHER CARD sOLDIERS

They beat back dream!Deuce, but now too many soldiers are swarming them. Sebek accepts the onus for not trusting Ace and jumping to conclusions; he uses Living Bolt to clear a way for Yuu, Ace, and Grim to run away while he stays behind.

Now let’s bounce to Leona and Deuce! dgshevkw Deuce thought he was with Ace, Yuu, and Grim… but nah, it’s Leona! Leona tried to run off by himself, like in the opposite direction of the loudmouth Sebek www Instead he’s stuck with Deuce…

LEONA syING hE’S GONNA SMSvk RIDDLE

Omg Vargas Camp canon to main story??? Deuce talks about a sports club camping trip to the mountains led by Vargas.

Ace shows up acting relieved he found Deuce and Leona. REALLY starts glazing Leona up too, talking about how strong he is and how he could easily overpower Riddle if they act as bait. Deuce becomes suspicious because Ace wouldn’t say stuff like that, even if he thought it. He demands to know what Ace’s dream was—but Ace cannot answer, so Deuce knows this must be darkness?

Leona tells Deuce he will turn some bushes to sand; he should sprint through them quickly.

nuuuUquUUYYR hE CALLS bdeuCE A GOOD BOyYYYTG OTL (like, loyal dog/follower of his dorm) AnD HE DIESNmF DiSLIKE THAT OTL

Leona claims to be a kind prince LOL uhhh he does The Plan and Deuce escapes! Leona is left behind to fight off dream!Ace and his heart suit goons.

Silver and Cater run into what I assume is dream!Trey. Cater wants he and Trey (who are familiar with the ever-changing maze) to split up and search for the first years, but dream!Trey wants to stick together.

Cater asks Silver if he ever gets tired of fighting the darkness. How does he do it?? Silver confesses he almost gave into it many times but his friends were always there to pull him out of it.

Oh, Cater’s dad has been transferred for his job less as of late, so now he is able to have more long term relationships. Cater also reveals he used to room with Trey prior to third year (where they have separate rooms).

Lore drop, Heartslabyul is the second oldest dorm.

Cater tells a story about how he pitched the idea of transferring to Scarabia with Trey, which dream!Trey agrees with. Turns out, it was a bait laid out by Cater to test of this Trey was real—and dream!Trey fell for it! He admits that he started to suspect Trey was fake when Trey wanted to stay together rather than split up. Trey, who is an older brother, would always prioritize the safety of the first years!

AHHHHHH they’re being overwhelmed and they’re running short on magic :<

Last group to check in with is Trey and Ortho…! Trey shares more about the plants in the garden. They’re magical and must be grown by hand. Some of the plants move if you command them to, bur some others are stubborn. In spring, they have a concert with the flowers. Ortho says the trees in Pomefiore are raised similarly to the Heartslabyul plants.

OKAY SO. Pomefiore is the oldest dorm, then Heartslabyul, THEN Diasomnia. This all but confirms a fan theory that the age of the dorms corresponds with each dorm's irl film inspiration release date. From oldest to youngest, that would be

Pomefiore- 1937

Heartslabyul- 1951

Diasomnia- 1959

Octavinelle- 1989

Scarabia- 1992

Savanaclaw- 1994

Ignihyde- 1997

Aaaaah here comes the dream!Cater. He claims he escaped alone.

Trey discusses Cater’s magic and how it’s like casting 2-3 spells at once since Cater has to use magic to manipulate each clone. Thus, the power level of Cater and his clones goes down. Meanwhile Riddle’s UM can impact multiple people at once and he can spellcast quickly.

HUUUUH Cater applied to duel Riddle not too long before his third year? Wait no, that’s a lie Trey came up with to entrap dream!Cater! Trey knew it must be a fake because he doesn’t see Cater as the kind of guy to leave others behind and escape to safety on his own.

Trey tells Ortho to escape without him…!

That leaves us with only Adeuce, Ortho, Grim, and Yuu able to escape. They regroup and find their captured allies tied to rose trees. Trey begs Riddle to wake up.

Deuce suggests to use his UM to defeat Riddle, and Ortho volunteers to be Deuce’s shield (~10 seconds) while he aims, since Riddle’s UM does not work on Ortho.

Rare moment of development for Yuu??? They have dialogue options and can express that they feel useless, constantly being protected and not able to help.

Ortho asks us to protect Idia’s tablet. And Ace is entrusted to protect Yuu and Grim!

dbjsnsksks Deuce’s plan doesn’t really work out. Riddle starts spamming spells that throw Ortho off; Deuce can’t get his aim quite right.

Grim tries to scamper out to fight but Ace holds him back. Ace becomes increasingly frustrated that he keeps being protected by others (Sebek, Deuce, Ortho) and can’t do anything to help.

AhHHHHHH Ace has his own little depression flashback moment 🥺 calling himself pathetic, lame, useless… unable to save anyone at all. But then words start coming to his head…!! He disrupts Riddle just as he’s able to collar Deuce!

“I’ll take your best/most precious treasure. Joker Snatch…!”

HE COLLARS RIDDLE :000 Deuce uses his UM and shovk Riddle awake… I can’t believe the class 2E boys both got physically beaten into submission 💀

WOW Cater NYOOMS to Riddle and hugs him?!.?:’snwkgelek

Sebek offers to carry Ortho, but Ortho is super heavy.

UHHHH here comes the darkness… Adeuce rush over to help Riddle, even though he commands them to go to someplace safe. (SEBEK CALLS ADEUCE BY THEIR NAMES AND NOT "HUMANS"!!!) Riddle commands Trey and Cater to remove Adeuce and they do as he says; we of course follow after Riddle as he sinks.

Riddle has his moment squaring off against his Phantom. It's quite interesting; his darkness exclaims that he must hang onto the seat because he has nothing else. Everyone loathes him, so he has to do everything he can to cling to power. Riddle calls himself out for the tyrant that he is and expels that darkness.

Rule 1 of the Queen of Hearts: to stay where you are, you must run with all of your might. From now on, Riddle says he will do just that.

He resurfaces in his home and is approached by his mother, who claims he fell asleep while reading about crocodiles in the Nile River? (Wh-Why is the Nile River canon in Twst when that’s a real world location that should not exist in this one...)

Riddle summons his magic and collars his mother, making her melt away into nothing. He gets a really cool line...! "I refuse to stand in front of a door that won't open anymore. Even if the opening is as narrow as a keyhole, I will pry this door open with my own hand and move forward. I will walk forward, on my own path!"

THIS IS REALLY FASCINATING BECAUSE ALL THE WAY BACK IN THE EPISODE OF HEARTSLABYUL MANGA... THEY USED A DOOR AND KEYHOLE IMAGERY TO DEPICT RIDDLE COMING OUT OF HIS OB

Right as Riddle regains his senses, he crashes through the floor of his dream and... somehow lands where Idia is?! He's busy programming.

There seems to he… maybe a reference to Idia’s Bloom Broom vignettes??? Idia’s best subject is Summoning and he seems to have summoned Riddle to him? And Riddle says that he has read Idia’s research papers before; this was also mentioned in said vignettes (Riddle expresses an interest in his papers).

Idia tells Riddle that the Final Boss, Malleus Draconia, is waiting on the other side of his bedroom door...!

THAT'S IT, THAT'S WHERE WE LEAVE OFF???????? WE'RE DEFINITELY NEARING THE END, BOYS...

Okay, so first major thought I had!! Riddle’s dream confirms many of the thoughts I have ha about Trey and his feelings toward Mrs. Rosehearts and his own role in Riddle’s trauma. I have legitimately NEVER heard Trey sounding this panicked or scared, not even when Riddle was about to OB. Trey hurriedly rushes to put away the strawberry tart out of fear, just waiting for Mrs. Rosehearts to start shouting hysterically at him. Ortho even comments about Trey’s vitals rocketing. This definitely reads to me as Trey being traumatized by that whole incident 💦

BIG BRo CATER CONTINUES… Him making up the lie about Leona being a great drummer was so dumb but it worked!! And then he cares so much about Riddle when he finally wakes… would never run off on his own and abandon his friends… 😭 HNNNNGH CATERRRRrrRRRRR WhEN i CmgEFt MY gaNDS ON YOUUUUUuUUU

And holy cow, there was SO much symbolism in Riddle’s dream 😳 dream!Mrs.Rosehearts’s sweets looking good but is insincere and tasting terrible, as opposed to Trey’s tart which looks terrible from the rough travel but is made with care and tastes good… Riddle wishing for a happy family life so his house is crammed with photos… parents that are always emotionally available for him… not having the pressure of being a mage or having a legacy to live up to… the house being a place that locks them inside (because it might feel like a prison to Riddle)... Not just symbolism for Riddle's desires too, but also tons of Alice in Wonderland references!! ASFIHBAYOSFPADFIA I'D WASTE SPACE IN THIS POST LISTING THEM ALL OFF, BUT JUST KNOW THEY'RE THERE AND THEY WERE AMAZING FOR ME TO EAT UP AS AN ALICE IN WONDERLAND STAN

It’s interesting how Chenya here serves as sort of a helpful NPC to us, similar to Kifaji. His actions are a lot more dubious here; he’s not strictly good and spends most of the dream siding with Riddle. Chenya only swaps sides when we convince him. I wonder if he, too, represents some self-aware part of Riddle??? Since Riddle was later shown trying to maintain the dream world even when he learned it was fake.

They tried to recapture the glory of book 6 by having the characters split up. I'm not sure if it worked as well (since each was kind of short and repeated a lot of the same lore about the Heartslabyul rose bushes), but it served its purpose. The best part was definitely how the Heartlabyul students used what they knew of each other to figure out the fakes. It's a very effective but subtle way to show how they've become more familiar with one another. I feel like this update overall was very lore-heavy. We learned new stuff about the dorms' ages, their protective measures, their plants, etc.

It was interesting to have a rare moment of character development for Yuu? They barely get anything in way of characterization, so that surprised me. I wasn't expecting ACE to get his whole Depression Arc in the middle of Riddle's dream either--but I guess whining hard enough works, because he finally FINALLY got his UM!! Still not sure how it works yet. It seems to let him steal/borrow or copy other's UM??? But Sebek describes it as "it seemed like you and Riddle swapped magic". We have to wait for more details to drop in a later update. Can't say I like the name for his UM though; it makes me think of him stealing a clown's wig. ASDULBIADBSPSAB So proud of Ace; with this, we now have the UMs and chants for every one of the NRC students!

Overall, Riddle really surprised me. His dream ended up being roughly THREE TIMES LONGER than the average dream 💀 Not sure if I like that pacing, but at least this was fun to dissect. I like that they seem to have put extra effort into this portion, especially since the game is called Twisted Wonderland. It feels like a homage to the original story, especially since that novel ended with Alice waking up. I loved that Riddle has an inner child that he represses, but that even his desires are "held back" by knowledge he doesn't have... like his parents' happy faces or what his mom's homemade baked goods might taste like. It made me feel for him. ASDIUBASDASBDBPASIqryrqp I kind of feel like a proud parent reading his cool line about finding his own path at the end. It's very different than himself earlier in the dream, ignoring difficult topics and actively denying reality, where he fears he will be left sad and alone OTL Ndhdiwjekw Not sure if I care for his actual childish behavior though… Slightly grating to me.

THE HORROR STYLE PRESENTATION WITH MALLEUS REALLY UNNERVED ME. I would shit bricks if I was Idia too, dang... I'm on the edge of my seat for the next installment. S-Surely book 7 will have to wrap up soon, right? RIGHT?????

[3liza]

I feel very defensive about the "goth is bougie" shit because it is historically incorrect, yes, but also and more personally, because it just erases the generations of goth kids who grew up in trailer parks and project housing or just straight up homeless, helping each other out.

it's specifically such a supportive subculture for poor and neglected kids and I really fucking hate that this has been revised and erased. juggalos and goths are very culturally close and many subcultural people are both, and juggalos have the same (and, I would argue, even better defined) culture of collective support. the Skids in Letterkenny are not made up for the show, that's just a real type of rural subcultural person. this has also been forgotten in the interim but in the 90s and 00s we didn't even really refer to OURSELVES as "goths" very much except in a joking way. goths had regional endonyms (like "skids" or "trenchies") even if they could all go to a convention or a club in a city and in that context be all called "goths" together, once they went back home they would go back to being whatever the locals called them or whatever they called themselves. this is a whole linguistics and sociology subtopic that's out of scope for a Tumblr post but is sort of related.

my point is that people who wore actual rags, and sharpie instead of nail polish, and wet n wild eyeliner instead of black lipstick, and dyed their hair with markers or food coloring or kool-aid, were and are the core of the goth scene. the majority of the pictures the mallgoth blogs are posting are from catalogs, fashion shows, costume events, yearly balls and fetes like Wave Gothik Treffen, and other places where people save up literally all year, or many years in a row, to put together ONE outfit. and there's nothing wrong with that, personally I'm proud and pleased that our hard work is being recognized and preserved. but just like formal studio photographs from the Victorian era, it is not representative of the daily or even weekly (for clubs) reality of people in the scene, some of whom were completely out of goth clothing during the day or week just to fit in at work or sometimes just to get along without being bothered at home by family members who thought the Cure was Satanic.

the people who RUN the scenes, the promoters and DJs and gogo dancers and independent designers and people who run the mailing lists and websites, the people who organize the room parties at conventions, and yes even most of the original Burning Man camps like Thunderdome, they mostly live in poverty. especially if they're young. when people organize club nights and shows, they're lucky if they break even. I wasn't aware of any of this until I started working at DNA Lounge in San Francisco, which hosts one of the oldest goth nights in the country, Death Guild. I got to know the owner of DNA well enough to find out about the financial reality of the entire scene, even the people who own the means of production and the actual property in this case, and it's not lucrative. I mean, it sometimes is, if you're running a bar for normal people and have investment captain etc, but the majority of legit subculture economics is just barely breaking even. every single event is 90% volunteer labor.

the issue of labor is maybe the confusing thing for the zoomers who are confused. goth outfits take actual physical work. maybe the Aspirational Spectacle of Labor that makes up most of TikTok has made it appear unreal to the audience rather than something you can just sit down and do?

it takes forty seconds to make the fishnet tights into a shirt. you don't need instructions, you really can just look at it and figure it out. then you think, hm, if I can make fishnets into a shirt I wonder what other things I can turn into something else. your brain will amaze you. my mom would save her tights from her formal work outfits for me when they got holes or whatever and I would just go crazy with scissors and safety pins. lots of young designers are getting attention for this layered, tights-n-pins look at the moment and it really is a fantastic aesthetic but I wonder if people think there's something special about the people who make these clothes? there isn't. you can just do it at home while you watch trashy youtubes.

one time, around 2008 or so, @gothiccharmschool and I were at the photoshoot for tabletop RPG Unhallowed Metropolis. we were there with a bunch of local goths to all make the pictures for this book together. we had all brought tons of our costumes from home to cobble together outfits for the book illustrations, and there was a moment when I just handed Jilli a pile of black skirts and some pins and said hey Jilli, could you please make me up a bustle skirt for this model real quick while I shoot these other models? and of course she did, and they were beautiful, because she knows exactly what she's doing, and because that's all a bustle is: it's a way of bunching up a skirt with another skirt. you can do it at home. you don't need instructions or to hire a seamstress or watch a video. you can just look at something and say hm does it look like a bustle? let's drape it and play with it and pin whatever works. and then you wear it for the photoshoot, or to the club!!! and then next week you pin it a different way and it's a cape instead and you wear it again!!!!!!!

[ordinary-barbie]

dress to impress. (rafechella on my mind)

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

summary: when you’re stumped on what to wear for the first day of Coachella, your knight in shining denim is there to rescue you.

tags: established relationship, fem!reader, language, suggestive references, brief oral (f!receiving)

notes: inspired by this request!

You were in a crisis.

It was the first day of Coachella, and despite having a suitcase absolutely stuffed with clothes, you were absolutely stumped about what to wear.

You should go to Sarah for help, or scroll Reddit. Maybe just say "fuck it" and randomly throw something together. You sighed, hating how you were overthinking something as simple as a fucking outfit. You just wanted to look your absolute best for day one, especially since you were seeing the Lady Gaga tonight.

Rafe sauntered into your shared room, looking casual yet absolutely droolworthy in a white tee, dark blue jeans, and a red bandana tied around his neck. "You planning to go out in your PJs, babe?" he asked, flashing you a teasing grin.

You rolled your eyes. "This is no laughing matter, Rafe. I'm having a fashion emergency!"

Rafe chuckled, joining you on the floor. "Don't pout, baby. I'll save the day for ya."

He opened your suitcase, carefully laying out some outfit options on the bed. You knew that Rafe thought anything you wore looked good, but the man knew how to dress, so you decided to put your trust in him.

"Hmm—I don't know. I'm gonna need you to model these for me," Rafe said, stroking his chin. "You know I'm a visual learner."

You snorted. "You're such a perv."

"And yet, you love me," Rafe countered. "Now c'mon. We ain't got all day, princess."

You shook your head amusedly, stripping off your pajamas. Rafe leered at you, focusing on your cleavage. "On second thought—I think I like you better like this. Maybe with even less clothes on, if possible."

You flipped Rafe off, making him laugh again, and put on the first thing that caught your eye—an embroidered, lacy black top, an olive green plaid miniskirt, and fishnet stockings.

“What do you think?” you asked, doing a little twirl for Rafe.

Rafe’s mouth dropped open. “Holy shit, babe.” His gaze ran up and down your legs, and he was silently grateful that you decided to bring those damn fishnets.

You giggled. “Wow, I guess we’re off to a good start.”

Before you could undress, Rafe stopped you. “Nah. Don’t put anything else on—this is it.”

Your eyes shone with appreciation. “Thank you, baby. I was, like, this close to asking reddit for help.”

Rafe smirked, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the side of your neck. “‘m way better than Reddit, baby.”

Not gonna lie—you and Rafe did get distracted for a few minutes because he decided he just had to pull down your fishnets and eat you out. But other than that, you would gladly recruit Rafe as your personal stylist for the rest of the festival.

[mrs-meeks-martin]

Happy Halloween P1

EthanLandry x Fem!Reader

warnings: inappropriate language, stalkerish behavior, implied crush, freakiness (no smut this part)

PART 2

reblogging appreciated 🙂‍↕️

Ethan Landry, the hot, mysterious boy in the back of your class. You’ve noticed him, having to do some group projects with him once or twice, but you’ve never really paid attention to him otherwise.

When it came to you, he was the complete opposite.

It was like he analyzed your every move. Whenever you were somewhere, like a small little coffee shop on campus, he never failed to be there, watching you. From the shadows, of course. Not like you noticed him. He was always precautious when it came to things like that. Ethan tried to convince himself he wasn’t a stalker, that he was just making sure you were okay. He was only following you everywhere because he cared for your wellbeing, right?

So when you were handing out fliers to a Halloween party that Chad had practically begged you to go to, he took one without hesitation. He doesn’t even go to parties. He just wanted to have contact with your soft hands, the touch sending a jolt through his body that he hid well enough for you not to notice.

“I thought you didn’t go to parties.” You raise a brow at him, puffing out your lips in a pout.

“I don’t.” He replies back, mentally slapping himself in the face. Why would he even say that?

“So then why’re you going? I thought you were smarter than this, nerd.” You poke fun at him playfully, poking his shoulder as you giggle.

She’s touching me- She’s touching me. Even a simple poke was enough to get his heart skipping beats.“Hey, I am NOT a nerd!” He tries to retort back, which ends up being futile. His cheeks flush a light shade of pink, threatening to get darker at the teasing.

“Uh huh… Says the one that did all of the work on our group projects.”

He almost chuckles at that. The only reason he did all of that work was for you. Whenever someone else was working with him, he always made sure that they did their share. But you…

“You better have a killer costume, dork.” You walk away before he can say, “I will…”

A killer costume. He chuckled in his head. She definitely meant a ‘great’ costume, but… Maybe I’ll save myself a couple of bucks and go as Ghostface.

As more people start to file in the party, you wonder where Ethan is. Not that you care, or do you? You really don’t know. You scoop yourself a cup of probably spiked punch and make it to the living area. Out of the corner of your eye, you see someone in a Ghostface costume waltz in the party. It’s not the first time someone has done that, but it always seems to give you a strange feeling in your gut.

“Hey, y/n.” Ethan removes his mask and smiles, flashing his pearly whites. He looks you up and down, surveying your costume. You were going for a Harley Quinn look with the cute cropped 3 color-way tee and those short ass shorts paired with the iconic fishnets. Ethan tries his best not to ogle you, but at the end of the day, he’s an adult trapped in a horny teenagers body.

Thank goodness, you say in your head. “When I said a ‘killer costume’ I didn’t actually mean a real killer, dork.” You facepalm, and it makes his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“So you don’t like the costume?” Ethan frowns. I probably shouldn’t have skimped out and just bought some lame outfit from Party City-

Before he can finish his thought, you cut back in and say, “I think it’s pretty cool, It’s hella creepy, though.”

As you finish your sentence, Chad just so happens to see you in the teeming crowd of people and walk over to you.

“Hey, guess who made it!” Chad puts a hand on your shoulder, shaking it hard.

“Hey, Chad! Been a while.” You smile, turning around to hug him. The action makes Ethan clench his jaw. Even though he knew you and Chad were inseparable, (friends wise) that didn’t stop him from feeling a tinge of jealousy. However, that all melted away when his eyes drifted down to those shorts. The same shorts that gave him a wonderful view of your-

“Hello? Ethan?” You snap in his face, tilting your head a bit. “Earth to-”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” He gives you a strained smile, trying to ignore the heat pooling in his groin. Great. Just great, he thinks, wanting to bang his head against the wall.

You take a drink of your punch as Chad looks at both of you and raises a brow. “Yeah, I sense some serious sexual tension here, so I’m just gonna-” That makes you spit your drink out, some of the liquid coming from your nose.

“I beg your utmost, finest pardon?” You look at Chad with wide eyes and then turn your head to look at Ethan, and you notice how red he is.

“Yeah… That’s my queue.” Chad begins to back away, giving a slow nod to you as he does those stupid hand motions.

Take me with you.. Ethan thinks, not being able to handle the embarrassment.

“Ignore him, He’s probably already drunk, spouting nonsense and whatnot.” You smile awkwardly, trying to avert the attention from what just happened.

“Yeah, yeah-” He nods quickly, trying to also avoid conversing about the topic.

“So uh…” Chad realllyyy wasn’t lying. The tension in the air was so thick you could probably cut it with a knife. You broke the awkward silence, trying not to sound corny. “I’m bored as fuck. See, this is why I don’t go to parties anymore.”

“You should leave with me.” Ethan says in a low voice, mustering up all of his courage.

CLIFFHANGER

ps: first actual series! interaction is appreciated 😘

[stuck-writing-sickos]

In Poor Taste [P4]

[Series Link]

(Yandere × F! Reader)

[Warning: misogyny, explicit language, violence, harrassment, bodily harm]

(A/N: i see some of yall find Lukas so offputting 🎯yall not rocking with him? Why❤️What for✨️ is it his personality 💕is he vile and disgusting 🥹? do u hate him💋? Do u wanna beat his ass 🫶? )

You were never crazy about spoiled rich men. They were nothing but troubles.

He didn't expect to see a familiar face in the tight, dim, sweaty corner of Tokyo. He regretted going to this silly punk rock concert in the first place, but he did say this morning that he would go to one so he could talk to you about it. Mostly he was set on going because he wanted to try out something new, something to talk about - his peers wouldn't set foot near this underground coffee. It was unfortunate that he had no genuine interest in the music - it was loud and complicated. Unpredictable. The guitar might sound cool, but there wasn't a groove to which he could chill and bob his head or trip balls on mushroom while making out with a stranger. No trippy backdrops here - just the dim, anxiety-inducing colored stage light.

So he was there at a standing table way back, watching the crowd dance and scream. He found it strange - the hair, the makeup, the eccentric clothes. The only thing he would safely get behind was the fishnet and leather skirts that some girl really rocked. Sometimes, the girls over at the States would wear that to bars or theme nights. He liked that. He didn't like the way he feel here - half aroused, half judgemental. He would rather the tight sportwears on tanned blond surfers or yoga instructors. The ones who earned nods and hums and vile comments from his frat brothers were he to kiss and tell. Being attracted to them made him feel normal. Accepted. Approved. He wouldn't be caught dead eyeing these women.

But his friends weren't here, so he got to look. Never tell, though. Or if he did, he would say "oh, they dressed crazy", or "their eyeliner were scary", or "their piercings freak me out".

Deciding that it was time for another beer, Lukas begrudgingly went to the bar again. He felt anxious and alone, sticking out like a sore thumb. He earned quite some looks from women, but he couldn't be so sure if they liked what they see or if they could tell he was a poser who only came just to say he did it. He couldn't read their expressions, partly since he was drunk, partly because he was now considering the cultural differences, even if only for a morcel. He was made aware of it most pointedly this morning: the couple faux-pas he made with Sakamoto might have been intentional, but the guy's lack of reaction made him question how big of an insult he had put out there.

Sakamoto made him feel defensive, though Lukas decided not to dwell on it. He wasn't one to feel insecure, especially with guys like that - soft faced and soft-spoken. His big round eyes and sickly skin made him look like a woman, too. At least, Lukas would acknowledge that he was tall. But that was his only saving grace.

He wasn't explicitly aware that he was feeling more territorial over you. It wasn't about you anyway, it was by default. Even in the past, he had done these things - putting down other men to get to women. They were his wingmen, he would justify, they weren't supposed to outshine him. When it was his turn to wingman, he definitely let his brothers dog on him for days. It was common and understandable. If anything, Sakamoto should make ways for him. A girl like you wouldn't suit that guy - he was too uptight and serious. What would two high-strung people do together? You should be with someone who know what a good time is. Also, he saw something Sakamoto didn't - a glimpse of your tattoo. Those family-man wouldn't know how to deal with that. How would he take bring that up to his family? They would freak. Even his sister's "31:25" tattoo freaked his parents out, and they were already the most liberal rich family in his neighborhood.

Yeah, Sakamoto should leave you to him.

Settling in on a barstool, he ordered another beer, then repeat himself when the bartender couldn't quite make out what he was trying to say.

Lukas let his eyes scan the people sitting near him. Only a few, he noticed. It wasn't a crazy crowd to begin with.

After this beer, he'd go home.

As the bartender come back with his bottle, Lukas noticed something he didn't expect. From the crowd, you emerged, making your way toward the bar. He blinked, trying to see if he was mistaken.

No... that was definitely you.

All black from head to toes, you treaded silently like a death omen, your sleek heels clicking. Your short sleeved turtle neck and your tight pants started a heat within his chest. Your face wasn't any different, though - just the usual look. No crazy eyeliner, no bold dark lipstick. Seemed like you did not come here to impress the crowd.

You didn't notice him. Hopping onto a stool at the other end with your back facing him, you ordered something.  You knew Japanese, or just enough to get by. A lot of expats got to that point eventually.

Lukas debated on confronting you about your lies - you said you would be at dinner with a friend. Or maybe he could do that tomorrow.

He didn't peg you for such a casual liar.

Lukas hatched another plan: he could observe you, and see how deep your lies could go. Sipping on his beer, he followed your movement. You adjusted in your chair, still with that calm manner you carried yourself. Then, his eyes rested on your skin left bare by the bold backless top. You looked good, but clueless. Would you know the implications of such a shirt? The way your body moved in it... men would think you were asking for troubles. Bad men. Asshole men who didn't know they were pigs. At least he had the decency to admit that he was a pig, but he was an honest pig who respected women. He was a pig who knew to ask once, then if rejected a couple more time just to make sure, then he would leave it alone. Most pigs wouldn't know to even ask.

You sipped on your pink cocktail. That was cute. Your right now style reminded him of those ravebabes he met during spring break, but you were more subtle and quiet. Your movement were less urgent, and your clothes were less exposing. It was a nice feminine touch.

Your moment of rest didn't seem to last long. A man had chosen to sit down right next to you. This man was lanky, dressed in a very unbuttoned black button-down. He started to chatter, first in Japanese, then in English. Another sleazeball trying to test out his games. Lukas wondered when would be appropriate to interfere.

Your body language made it clear you weren't interested, but not afraid. Immediately covering your drink, you tried to turn your body away. The man seemed not to mind. If anything, his speech seemed more excited, his hands moving around like a stupid puppet. Desperate, Lukas thought, that was not a good look.

Deciding your half-finished drink wasn't safe anymore, you laid it on the bar and stepped down, trying to leave. Upon this, the man caught your wrist, forcing you to turn his way. Lukas' stomach twisted - here it was, the moment where he step it and scare off this asshole.

A loud, off-tune note shred through the music. Lukas looked at the stage. The band played on, but it seemed there was a technical issues with the guitarist.

The momentary distraction cost him his chance to intervene. When he turned his eyes back to you, he was hit with a strange scene - in a swift movement you twisted your arms around the man's and grabbed onto his forearm, forcing it down so hard he stumbled. Your face, now turned sideway during the commotion, was eerily calm when you talked. Lukas heard "Sir... I said no."

The man said something in Japanese, something that sounded bitter. Probably a curse word. Lukas jumped off his seat just as the stranger swung with his free arm to slap you across the face. The bartender seemed to have decided that whatever was going on was enough, and she rushed to you. Before she could, you clenched your idle fist and landed an uppercut so hard the harrasser let out a cartoonish "oof", his limp fingers releasing you as he stumbled backward, hitting right against the bouncer who appeared as if from the shadow.

Something in Lukas awakened in that moment. Your stone cold feature and your bruised knuckle left him slack-jawed. He stepped closer, intending to ask if you were okay. Once again, he was interrupted.

"Sir and ma'am, please explain what happened", the burly bouncer commanded. The pathetic guy excitedly tried to speak, but you only crossed your arms and watched. Your eyes was set on the sad attempt at vidication, but you were patient to let him finish his spiel.

"Is it true that you attacked this gentleman unprovoked, ma'am?"

"I apologize for the commotion, sir", your bowed, hands now hanging right atop your knees. Pulling yourself back up, you continued, "this young man seemed to have taken my rejection poorly, and he had slapped me across my face. I understand that my punch was unseemly, but I did that in an attempt to protect myself. He had gotten ahold of my arms and hit me, so I was fearing for the worst."

The bouncer's scowled, but he decided that he had heard it all. His big hand grabbed onto the stranger's wrist, and together they exited out the backdoor.

The fight definitely grabbed some attention. Lukas stood watching you look around, soaking in the side eyes. Taking in a breath, you dusted yourself off and hopped back onto a barstool. The thick, moist, cigarette-dense air fell heavy in Lukas' lungs. He felt his heart drumming, his body hot from an excitement he couldn't surpress. Something about the way you fought hit him like ecstasy.

He wondered if your punch hurts.

Lost in the unprecedented euphoria, he could only gaze at you as some women came up and asked if you were okay. You reassurred them with a familiar smile, one he had seen you wore at work. Your voice was soft again as you thanked the chirpy crowd for their concerns.

Lukas didn't say anything to you that night. He went home and let the image of you and your victorious knuckle bruises lull him to sleep.

___

"Do you need me to find out who he is?"

Yuki wasn't happy when he asked that. The sight of your bandaged hand and the medical patch on your face stirred his stomach with guilt.

"No, of course not", you shook your head, "I'm fine! Really, it was nothing."

Yuki pursed his lips. The lunch he packed himself suddenly tasted like cardboard.

He tried to make it easier by reminding himself that at least Lukas didn't push to have lunch with you today. In fact, the guy had been stoic for the entire morning. Even though you weren't around, Lukas had somehow been working on his computer silently instead of sprawling on his chair like a slacker. Perhaps you had reminded him about his attitudes at work?

If you did, Yuki was impressed that the newbie knew to listen. He didn't think that kid would be the type to do so.

"Sakamoto, please don't worry. I had fun, and your set was great."

He looked down. He knew he wasn't directly to blame, though the guilt never went away- he was well-acquainted with this sort of harrassment. Right in his childhood home he had witnessed worse. What grated him the most was the silence afterward. The way his mother's frail form would hunch, casting a bent shadow on the shoji, her hands cupping her face. He was too young and small to do anything but stand in the hallway and watch as she eventually moved, mute and rigid. He heard the folds of her clothes creasing against one another and the floorboard barely creaking under her feet.

She couldn't have fought back. She was sickly. When he grew into his middle school uniform, Yuki tried to fight on her behalf but his teenage body bounced off his father's sturdy chest. His father was a merciless man, strong like the grey stone wall surrounding their mansion. Yuki remembered the disappointment in the old man's voice as he lamented "my only son is emotional like a woman, and weak like one, too."

"I see...", he said to you, his voice weary. He didn't know what else to say. He didn't want to bring up the fact that when he saw your tug of war, he let his hand slip across the strings, messing up the song. He had planned to jump off the stage, but his lead singer had tugged on his sleeve and eyed the bouncer who was already coming your way. What was there to tell you? He couldn't say that he had almost done something. Either he did something or he did nothing. In this case, he did nothing. Yuki tried to find solace in the fact that you held your own, but he couldn't. You shouldn't have to, not right in front of a friend.

Another wave of bitterness hit him when he remembered Lukas standing there watching, hesitant to interfere, tall and awkward like an useless telephone pole. Yuki wondered if he should bring Lukas up, but he decides against it. He didn't want you to feel worse - a friend and a junior watching you getting hit, that would not brighten anyone's day. He felt sorry for you to have to deal with two cowards.

Well, if he couldn't feel better, the least he could do was to keep you from feeling worse. He had been of no help with his stupid sad face. After all, this should not be about him. Yuki shamefully put his feelings in the corner as he tried to think of something that would cheer your up.

"Hey, would you like to check out a cat cafe this weekend with me?"

Your eyes lit up.

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's right down the street from where I live. I have been meaning to visit, but it would be awkward to go alone."

Yuki already visited. He liked their cakes and tea. Still, he saw no harm in a little white lie to make his invitation seem more natural. He would hate for you to get the idea that he felt obliged to make up for what happened. That would be a transactional spin on what was supposed to be a gesture of friendship.

"That would be so nice! I also was hoping to relax a little lately..."

The knot in his chest unraveled at that.

___

You were intimidated by Lukas' switch-up. Since morning, he was quiet. Upon seeing your bruises, he asked what happened, to which you gave a vague respond about tripping on the sidewalk. No more inappropriate attempts of flirting nor small talks - he appeared to be engrossed in the tasks you handed to him. You found it simultaneously nice and unnerving, so a part of you were glad that you were scheduled to teach until lunch. You were worried that if you were near him for too long, you wouldn't be able to resist asking him what triggered this change.

You thought of asking him to join you and Sakamoto for lunch, remembering the agreement you had made the day prior. Though, by the time you reached the lounge, he was getting ready to leave. "Please don't mind me", he said with an oddly soft smile, "I need to pick up something at the convenient store nearby. I hope you and Mr. Sakamoto have a good meal". His out of character veneered grin hit you like a brick.

By the time afternoon rolled by, Lukas occupied only a corner of your mind. You were mowing through the last days of school, teaching, writing, planning the end of year school festival. When you landed from the whirlwind and came back to the lounge for your last hour, you barely noticed the junior colleague who was still hunched over his laptop. Brushing past him, you got settled. Your tense body completely dropped its guards as you melted in your chair.

Your gaze met with a bottle of cold green tea in your cubicle. From the thin condensation, you figured it hadn't been around for long.

"Afternoon", Lukas' voice echoed from the other side of your corner, "you seemed tired. It's not much, but I hope you feel a little more refreshed drinking that."

"Mr. Lukas... it's so nice of you. I'm embarrassed to not have anything in return."

He didn't move to look at you.

"Don't mind it! You had a long day."

His tone was cool and distant, a long shot from the flirtatiousness you had to suffer so far.

"Really, thank you, Mr. Lukas. I do like this brand a lot, so this definitely made me feel better."

There was a quick pause before he spoke again: "I'm glad."

He moved at last, turning to you. You missed his gaze as you twisted open the cap and took a sip.

"If you don't mind, I would love your opinion on the powerpoints I made so far."

"Of course", you nodded, rolling your chair his way. He arched back, giving you the space to take a look

Your attention was on the mistakes he had made. You had a flaw: you were a perfectionist. Despite your lack of vocal reaction, you knew you could be critical when you saw someone take over your work incorrectly. It comes with expertise. Still, you had trained yourself to manage the uneasiness and maintain an encouraging attitude - something your close friends called "softening the blow".

You often forget, though, that your face could betray you.

"Okay, you did great so far", you said, neglecting to meet his eyes, "but I want to make some notes here. Would you mind?"

"Not at all."

For someone so surprisingly tough, you lacked an eye for details. You didn't see the look on him as he watched your hardening face and bandaged knuckle as if he was starving.

[pricesgirl]

Mary Janes

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

5

Y/N

The morning sunlight feels too bright as it spills across my room, illuminating everything in a way that feels almost accusatory. My head feels strange, like it’s stuffed with fog, and my throat is dry, scratchy. For a moment, I just sit there, trying to piece together what feels like fragments of a half-remembered dream.

Then, like the tide rushing in, it all comes back.

The lake. The joint. Jinx.

I let out a breath and rub my temples. I’ve never felt like this before—untethered, like my mind isn’t quite my own. I think of the way the smoke had burned going down, the way my chest had tightened, and the strange, floating clarity that had followed.

And then there was her.

Her laugh, sharp and biting, but somehow not cruel. The way her knee had bounced, restless, and her voice had softened, just for a moment. The way she had looked at me when I said I was sorry—like she didn’t quite believe it, but also like she wanted to.

I drag myself out of bed and stand in front of my mirror. My reflection stares back at me, hair messy, dark circles under my eyes. I don’t look like the version of myself I’m used to seeing: polished, composed, prepared.

I think of what I said to her.

“I’m sorry for abandoning you.”

It feels heavier now, in the harsh light of day. Not because I regret it—I don’t—but because it feels like the start of something I don’t know how to finish. She’d told me I’d drown if I tried to save her. And maybe she’s right. Maybe I would have.

But I didn’t even try.

The thought twists in my chest.

Last night feels like some strange, otherworldly moment, the kind that doesn’t belong in the real world. And yet, I can’t shake the memory of it: the lake, the stars, the soft ripple of water, and the way, for just a heartbeat, it felt like we were connected again.

The thought lingers as I go about my morning routine, though routine feels like the wrong word. Everything feels slightly off-kilter, like I’m moving through a world that isn’t quite real. I brush my teeth, but the minty taste feels muted. I splash cold water on my face, but it doesn’t chase away the warmth still clinging to me from last night.

Her words echo in my mind, over and over.

"You’re here now, aren’t you?"

It wasn’t forgiveness, not entirely. But it wasn’t rejection, either. It was something in between, a place I’m not sure how to navigate.

As I stare at the mirror, toothbrush abandoned in the sink, the weight of her words settles deeper into my chest. "You're here now, aren't you?" They linger, stubborn and unyielding, like a riddle I can't solve.

The person staring back at me looks like me but doesn’t feel like me. My hair’s still a mess, my skin pale in the unforgiving light of the bathroom. The faint redness from the weed still lingers in my eyes.

I trace my finger along the edge of the sink, the smooth porcelain grounding me in a way my thoughts can’t. It’s strange—how last night feels both impossibly distant and uncomfortably close, like I could reach out and still touch the ripple of the lake’s surface.

And her.

Her outfit from last night comes to me in sharp flashes, each piece a quiet reminder of her refusal to be anything other than herself. A cropped black top, with her bright blue bra peeking out, so unbothered by convention, leaving her arms bare to show off the wispy blue of her tattoos. The short, plaid skirt swung with every step, the bold pinks and purples clashing in a way that almost made me frown, but it somehow fit her perfectly. Like she was daring you to see her, truly see her, and not look away.

The torn fishnet stockings ran up her legs, disappearing beneath worn, slouchy leg warmers, and those boots, scuffed and heavy, told a story of a thousand steps taken in places I would've never dared to follow until last night. They weren’t made for dancing, but for standing firm, for walking through chaos. Her tiny, ridiculous purse, a cartoon animal with an angry face, hanging low on her hip truly a bizarre touch, but it made sense on her. She didn’t need it to make sense, and that’s what made it hers.

Those long, impossibly messy braids—swinging behind her like streaks of wild blue, tied off with bows that looked like they’d been thrown together in a rush. And her makeup… dark, smudged lipstick and eyeliner like she’d put it on in a haze of laughter and frustration. It was a little all over the place, but she looked beautiful.

I catch myself mid-thought, the word beautiful lingering too long in my mind. I clench my jaw and press my lips together, willing it away. No. That’s not what this is about.

I'm not attracted to her, I'm simply observant. There's just something compelling about her, she gathers attention, I'd be a fool not to notice.

And I'm not a fool.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Jinx

I’m sprawled out on Silco’s desk, knocking papers everywhere.

He’s too busy with whatever shady crap he’s dealing with, so he doesn’t even flinch. He’s used to this shit by now.

Not that I care. I’m busy with my own thing anyway.

“So like—Y/N, right? Last night? You remember her, right?” I swing my legs up, now dangling upside down off the desk.

“Or, you probably don’t, you’re busy and all that... but whatever.” I wave it off with a lazy shrug, but I can’t stop grinning.

"But she, like... totally caved.”

I catch his good eye for a split second before he looks back at his paperwork.

Like he’s trying to ignore me, but he knows he can’t, he's actually the biggest softie

“She totally, totally, smoked that joint with me,” I announce, watching him carefully.

Silco stops.

There’s a pause.

Like he’s trying to process my words. His eyes narrow as he stares at me.

“Jinx, I give you those drugs for your business entrepreneurs, not for yourself. You know you’re not supposed to be smoking,” he practically reprimands me.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh, sure,” I interrupt, waving my hand like I’m shooing off a fly.

“Let me stop you right there, Dad. It wasn’t technically a joint. It was a—uh—lollipop.” I smirk, daring him to call me out. “Yeah, a lollipop. Cherry-flavored. Totally innocent.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something about patience. “Jinx.”

“What?” I sit upright, hands spread wide. “I’m being honest! Honest Jinx, that’s me.”

His sigh is so long and drawn out I think he’s going to pass out.

But nope.

He’s still there, looking at me like he’s trying to figure out why he puts up with this.

“Anyway!” I barrel on, kicking my legs against the desk.

“She took it. Like, I held it out, and she just... grabbed it. Like, no hesitation. Well, okay, a little hesitation. But then bam! She’s holding it. And then she freaking smoked it—well, tried to. Looked like she was about to fucking puke Hilarious.”

“Language,” Silco mutters, shuffling his papers like he’s pretending to work.

He’s not fooling anyone.

“Right, right. My bad. She looked like she was about to violently combust,” I say, snickering.

“And then, guess what? She laughed. Laughed, Silco. Like, this cute little giggle thing. It was... weird. But, like, in a good way? Made her seem, I dunno, human.”

I flip onto my stomach now, chin resting in my hands.

“And then, for, like, a split second, I thought she was gonna kiss me. Like, what the hell, right? Y/N? Kissing me? Insane. But it was there. The vibe. The moment.”

Dad- Silco looks up from his paperwork. “And did she?”

I throw my hands up, nearly knocking over a paperweight.

“No!"

I scoff.

Silco leans back in his chair, giving me that annoying, knowing look. “You have feelings for the girl.”

I scoff, loud and dramatic. “Like her? Please. She’s just... interesting, that’s all.”

“Mmhmm.” His smirk grows, and I know I’m losing this battle.

“Okay, fine, maybe I like her. A little. But don’t get all weird about it, okay? She’s... complicated. And I don’t do complicated.”

“Jinx,” he says, his voice soft but steady. “You are complicated.”

I blink at him, thrown off for a second.

Then I roll my eyes, flopping back onto the desk like a starfish.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just don’t tell her I said any of this, okay?”

His chuckle is quiet, almost fond. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Y/N

After the oddity of the party last night, I found myself sitting at a booth in Piltover’s diner, the kind of place that pretended to be casual but was just polished enough to remind you it wasn’t cheap. Across from me, Caitlyn was sipping tea, her posture as straight and proper as always, while Mel flipped lazily through a menu.

I was quiet. Too quiet, probably, because Mel eventually glanced over and raised an eyebrow. “What’s with you? You look like you’ve been exiled from your own kingdom.”

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, forcing a small smile. I stirred the remnants of sugar into my coffee, avoiding eye contact. My thoughts kept drifting back to the lake, to Jinx, and to… everything about last night that I couldn’t quite make sense of. But I wasn’t about to bring it up. Caitlyn’s feelings about Jinx were less of a mystery—they weren’t feelings; they were pure, unfiltered disdain.

I sipped my coffee, letting the warmth ground me as the memory of last night tried to creep back in: Jinx’s laugh—sharp and unpredictable—the way her eyes sparkled with something I couldn’t quite name. Her voice, teasing and cutting but... not unkind.

I shoved the thought aside.

“So,” Caitlyn began, setting her teacup down with a small clink, “I kissed Vi.”

My head snapped up at the same time Mel practically shrieked. “You what?”

“It wasn’t that dramatic,” Caitlyn said, though the faint pink in her cheeks betrayed her attempt at nonchalance.

“Okay, hold on.” Mel leaned forward, practically vibrating with excitement. “I need every detail. Where? How? Was it good? No, wait—start from the beginning.”

Cait sighed, but the smile on her face told me she wasn’t bothered by Mel’s theatrics. “After you two left, we were standing by my car. She made some comment about how I should loosen up more often, and before I could reply, she kissed me.”

“Shut up,” Mel said, grinning ear to ear. “That’s amazing. Was it good? Don’t lie.”

“It was... unexpected,” Caitlyn admitted, the corners of her mouth twitching upward. “But yes, it was good. Very good.”

I tried to focus on my coffee, letting their conversation fill the space between us. Cait deserved this. She deserved something uncomplicated, something sweet and warm and full of possibility.

Unlike whatever was clawing at the edges of my mind—something messy and confusing and entirely unwelcome.

“Are you two a thing now?” Mel asked, leaning in like a gossip columnist.

“I don’t know,” Cait said, her tone thoughtful. “Vi doesn’t seem like the type to want to label things. And, honestly, I’m fine with that. For now.”

Mel looked impressed. “Wow. Look at you, Miss Go-With-The-Flow. Who are you, and what have you done with Caitlyn Kiramman?”

Cait rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t falter.

As their laughter filled the space between us, I tried to hold onto it, to let it distract me. But my thoughts were already wandering, back to the lake and the way Jinx had looked at me when I’d apologized.

There was something unsettling about the memory, not because of what she’d said, but because of how it had made me feel. Like I was standing on the edge of something I didn’t understand.

As they resumed their chatter, I let their voices fade into the background, my mind returning—despite my best efforts—to Jinx. To the way she’d leaned back on her elbows, her grin sharp and teasing. To the strange softness in her eyes, fleeting but undeniable. To the way my stomach had flipped, unbidden and entirely unwelcome, when her hand had brushed mine as she passed me the joint.

I stared into my coffee, its surface rippling slightly as I shifted in my seat. This was nothing, I told myself. Just residual adrenaline from an unexpected night. That’s all.

But the quiet flutter in my chest told a different story.

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

authors note: hope you enjoyed it, the complicated feelings are only just starting ;)

please like and reblog!

[mutiny-huyutiny]

hello sealalogic au

context under the cut

so. well. say hi to artemisia. she is originally burdas fankid however in this particular au shes a nerp. her story is kinda based on kroshik, hes a nerp with a long funny story but in short terms he preferred to stay in aquarium and he was too friendly with people which is dangerous for an animal. anyways, artemisia was saved when she was a couple of days, her mother died in the fishnets and she was left alone, unable to go. fishnets had left a scar on her body (which i - excuse me - havent designed yet), so it's easy to spot her out of other seals.

she was rescued by burakh and dankovsky and they basically became her foster parents, training, socializing and taking other care of her.

with that, they tried to let her go in a couple of years and she came back after half of an hour. they decided to prepare her better and again, after some time, they let her swam and the attempt seemed successful until they saw viral videos of a very friendly cute seal! <3 and they were like yeah this one is ours. fuck. last people who had seen her were vlad jr and kapella who had a boat trip and well. artemisia decided shes going with the. so basically they took her back and artemisia was in the aquarium again.

and for the third time, they tried to let her go again, but at the same day she successfully had found grief and stakh, who were catching fish that night (like. 1 am.) and, of course, drinking bear. so artemisia became their guest. gried were like omg hiii babygirl have some bear. stakh take a photo. and then they just video called burakh in the middle of night and were like hey thats yours. and he was like fuck yeah danya wake up lets go take this little dummy home for the last time.

so now artemisia lives happily in the aquarium and eats a lot of fish :)

[renren-006]

Gates | Daryl Dixon x Fem Reader

plot: (not in the TWD timeline) you get taken, but you come back alive after they thought you were dead or Daryls been in love with you and he tells you when he sees you again at the gate

WARNING: VIOLANCE! ANGST!

A/n: i got inspired for a little comfort-hurt story so here it is! the gif is you and daryl!

Word count: 908

taglist: @rosecentury

They had come when no one expected them to. The war with Negan was over. Daryl and yourself had been settling back into life, not saying what the other was thinking. The two of you continued to live in Carol's house, avoiding the hallway connecting your rooms.

The day they came started like any other, Daryl was already gone and you were just getting ready for the day. Carol's frantic scrambling up the stairs to your door broke you from your thoughts. 

“People are here,” Carol said, panicking in her eyes. This situation had not happened in years. 

“What kind of people?” you asked, your question was answered by a rapid sound of a gun going off. Your gaze went to the window, slowly you pulled the curtain back seeing men walking through your home with guns. This was bad. “You need to make sure Rick's kids are safe first. Michonne isn't here!”

“What will you do?” Carol asked as we crept out into the hallway. 

“What I always do, shoot first, ask questions later, '' you told her, grabbing your gun out of the closet and strapping your knife belt on. You both were cautious of the noise you made and the windows you walked by. You looked into Daryl's room as you passed, not knowing it would be the last time you would see the look of it in a while.

{Darlys POV}

He walked back into Alexandria; the gate had been left open, and the tower was in ashes. He looked at the people sitting on the sidewalk, blood on everyone. Darlys head was swimming with thoughts about what happened and why there was blood and bodies piled up. He noticed Carol down the street with Rick's kids. He made his way over, 

“Will this happen’?” he asked Carol once he made his way back over. His head was still swimming, the scent of blood strong. He looked around for you, the one person he wanted to see after a long day out. 

“I'm sorry, Daryl,” Carol said, her eyes shining with tears. The kids under her arms looked frightened. 

“Whatcha sorry for?” he said, wondering why she was apologizing and where exactly you were. “Where's y/n?” Daryl kept looking for your eyes, your smile to tell him everything was okay

“I'm sorry,” she said again, folding further into the kids. The others came over, sadness all over their faces. 

“Where the hell is Y/N!” he yelled. Darly ran into the house, searching everywhere for your figure. When he came back out, his family was there. He saw something in one of their hands, your jacket. He walked down to it, taking it gingerly in his hands.

“She…she saved us, Daryl,” they told him. She went with them, and they promised to leave when she did.” Tears were in his eyes now, falling onto your jacket, which still smelled of you. He clung to it as he walked back into the house. 

No one spoke to him for weeks. No one spoke of you.

{Your pov} 

You stumbled out of their compound, covered in blood, guts, and sweat. You wore ripped black fishnets, a lacy black dress, and a jacket you tore off one of the dead men inside their base. You found your boots hidden away and put them on in place of the heels you were made to wear the past weeks you walked around for these men. You remember the touches, the eyes, and the rule that you were not to be taken advantage of. The men wanted a plaything to dress up, do their household chores, and walk around half-naked for their enjoyment. You knew the more you avoided their advancements, the worse it would be for you. You knew the more you avoided them, the worse it was for the other girls that had given in. You knew you had to escape, not without making sure they would never come back first.

You killed every man in that compound; many tried to fight you, and others didn't know it ever happened. You survived the fighters, only leaving with a few scrapes and a badly injured leg. You didn't care, you couldn't, you needed to get home. 

{3rd pov}

The gates to Alexandria opened, and a woman, bloodied and battered, stumbled in. She was not a walker. She was a survivor. Rosita was stationed to watch the gate the day she arrived back. Tears formed in her eyes. 

“Y/N back!” she yelled down to the gate, towards the others. “Someone get Daryl”

Y/N walked in through the gate, exhaustion hitting her as she stumbled and fell to the ground. Rosita dashed to her side, water in hand. Thudding footsteps could be heard on the pavement, and Y/N looked up at the sound. Daryl was racing towards them, and Y/N got back up and was swept into his arms. The others were coming around the bend, happy that one of their own was back. 

“Are you alright?’” He asked, that accent heavy. Daryl was happy she was back, checking over her skin, seeing the cuts and bruises and the telltale signs that her leg might be in worse shape than she had let on. 

“Better now that I'm home,” She told him. Her voice was horse from the heat and no water as she reached the highway back. 

“Y/N,” Daryl said slowly. The two of them held each other's eyes. “I can't lose you again. Ya hear me?” She smiled; in her own way, she knew what he was trying to say to her. 

“I hear you,” she responded. Nodding and putting their foreheads together.

“I love ya,” he said to her. “Don't you dare leave me again’” 

“I promise, Daryl,” she told him, pulling him close again.

[madamechrissy]

♡ Time after Time ♡

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ CEO! Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Cunnilingus, explicit sex, choking, smacking, breeding kink, fr a huge breeding kink, dirty talk, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, biting

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ Gojo Satoru is your boss And you've been his head assistant for over two years now. You do everything for him, including and not limited to cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days... night calls... You are tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice. He is shocked, and wants to try to keep you, because you're the best. But you know better. Right? . You really wanna fucking quit. You also wanna fuck him. Also, fuck him.

A/N (Kinda has 'two weeks notice' vibes a bit! No use of y/n.) Fully finished on Ao3 but I'm going to slowly get it all up here! (Gojo's POV in itallics)

Chapter 7 - Masterlist - Playlist

Chapter 8

Your pussy was aching from Gojo Satoru, your neck sensitive from his bites, ass sore from his rough grip, bruises on your thighs making you shiver as you stood, your body was still reeling. Gojo had left yesterday afternoon, pushing your date off a day so that you could ‘recover’. Shit, you needed to. You had slept damn near the whole day once he’d gone.

The date was something he would not tell you about. He had simply smirked and said it was a mystery.

A surprise is a surprise.

But…

It’ll get that stick out of your ass. Relax and trust me.

A knock shook you out of your reverie, then, and you went to open your door to see a package dropped off, another pretty box like Gojo had sent last week for the charity ball. You flushed, nervous at what this all meant, falling so bad for such a silly man child, and falling harder with each breath. You shiver a bit with excitement and anticipation as you bring the box in.

Sitting it on the bed, your mind whirls with how much has changed in such a small time, feelings uncovered you’d always had so deep. There was no hiding from it anymore, not when you damn near dropped the L bomb mid fuck. You try to explain it away as some orgasm brain, but deep down you know it’s something else.

You take the pretty ribbon off, putting it with the last one you’d saved in your top drawer, they were far too pretty to just toss away. You peek at your little selfie with him, flushing like some damn school girl, just like little Miwa, but you were grown. Right? Why did he have such an effect…

You go back to the job of opening the package, with its pretty blue and white tissue paper, you wonder errantly if it’s Kiyotaka who has to do this because you can’t imagine it from Gojo. You see lingerie, and you feel your entire body heat up, black and lacy bralette with a high waisted lacy bottom, attached were little straps for stockings, which you saw were right under it.

You take out the little fishnets, and then there is a gorgeous body chain laid out on velvet, one that would go up around your neck, draping down between your breasts, and would wrap down the middle of your waist. It was a glittering silver chain, looking so delicate and pretty, something you would honestly have never thought to get yourself, but something you craved to wear now.

For him.

There was a little note, and that made you more nervous, biting your lip apprehensively, taking the little card out. Gojo had messy, wide, scrawling handwriting, usually making you write most things for him, and it made you want to chuckle as you tried to read it.

‘Put this on for me, pretty please! I am using puppy dog eyes, so you can’t deny me. Kiyotaka will be there at 8.’

You rolled your eyes, but then grew confused. What were you going to wear over it? Where were you going and how should you dress? Puppy dog eyes huh…Then you got another knock.

“Shit, Gojo… how much…” There was another knock, and another package. Again no one was there, like Gojo did this to fuck with you. You took the large red bag, and sat it also on your bed, and it was a red overcoat. A long one, looking like something some detective would wear.

You peer for some dress, but no. Another note.

‘I have this fantasy of you in lingerie under a big ass trenchcoat, nothing else. Humour me would you? *Puppy eyes*’

You snorted in laughter, and felt heat between your thighs. Where were you all going that it would be acceptable to wear such a thing, the thought of it drove you crazy, mind wild. Some raunchy sex club? Some crazy rich people party? You had no clue what to expect. You went to go touch up your hair and do your makeup, and your eyes sparkled at you.

You had rosy cheeks, and a smile… a smile, huh? You peer back at the photo, and realize maybe the happiness wasn’t gone, maybe it had been buried. Maybe it was not even full happiness before this, but you tried not to think too much of it, overthink and ruin things before they started. Overthinking fucking brain.

You turn to slide on the wicked lingerie, making your breasts sit high, lace cupping them like a gentle hug. Then you slid on the crotchless panties that hit mid waist, musing over the last time you’d worn them just the other night, in that bar, snapping it against your…

It was like your thoughts were consumed now.

You fiddle with the garters, unused to such things, sliding the wide fishnets over your smooth thighs. You’d shaved every inch of them and… your intimate area… just a little bit ago, something you’d been doing since Gojo’s affinity for just diving down there. You would never admit that was why, of course.

The chain you pulled out gently, guiding it over your body, it draped around your throat and between your pretty breasts, making them more enticing. You clasp the little back around your waist, securing it, the cold metal against your overheated flesh making you tremble at the sensation.

You peeked and found thigh high boots you’d never had the guts to wear, but had bought because they were sexy. You slid them over your legs, zipping them up, peering in your dresser mirror. The lingerie flatters and enhances your every curve, as you turn you notice even your backside looks amazing, as if Gojo had it in mind to enhance his favorite parts.

Your pussy was left open, bare, giving a thrill as you slid on the long red overcoat, sort of baggy on you, which you had a feeling was his intent since he knew your size so well. You button it up but leave a couple at the top open, loose, knowing it would drive him crazy, and playing into it. You peek at your neck, seeing the bruise he’d left, and pop a thick black choker on to complete the look.

The choker reminded you of hands you’d had on your neck.

You spritz on your new favorite spray, the one Gojo just lost his mind over, touching up your mascara and lip gloss. You hear the phone start to ring, and it’s Kiyotaka. You smile.

“Hello, Sir.”

“My lady.” He was the cutest. “Mr. Gojo has asked me to take you to him, I’ll be waiting right here when you’re ready.”

“Thanks I’ll be right down!” You turn off your lights and lock up, and as you end up riding in the back of the car, your mind runs wild.

“We’re here, my Lady.” Kiyotaka opens your door, and you realize where you are quickly. You’d been there a lot to help Gojo out of his messes. His house.

“What’s he up to, Kiyotaka?” You asked, he actually smiled a tired little smile then, shaking his head.

“I am sworn to secrecy, also the details were… too much.” He was flushing even in the dim evening. You giggled, touching his shoulder fondly.

“Gojo’s a lot. Okay, have a good night and don’t worry I’ll just crash here so you can get some sleep.”

“Mr. Gojo has a destination in mind, this is the first stop.”

“Oh…”

“I'll be back presently, miss.” He said and drove away, leaving you staring at the house in front of you.

The air was crisp and cool, a light breeze rustling through the trees around you, as if Gojo had his own little area of peace, in between the lush trees was his large house, opulent, ceiling to floor windows illuminated with a soft glow. As you stood on the steps of his house now, tapping your fingers against the smooth wood of the railing, wondering if Gojo would meet you out front or not.

Little shit he was, he didn’t.

You ring the bell, and stand and wait outside that opulent manor of his. A few long moments later, the sound of footsteps could be heard approaching from within the house, growing louder and faster until the door swung open, revealing Gojo Satoru himself. His bright blue eyes lit up in the dark, the background light casting a glow around him like he was some god.

Maybe he was.

When those eyes fell upon you, his gaze traveled up and down your body slowly, taking in every detail of the outfit he'd so carefully chosen for you. "You look beautiful. Part one of my fantasy is perfect." He breathed, his voice thick with desire.

You felt your familiar blush, the one that never went away long around him, as he bent down and you tiptoed, kissing each other. “Thank you for the… ahem… for the outfit. It’s so pretty.”

“I can’t wait to see it fully.” He stood, hand caressing your throat, fingering the little choker you wore. “Ooh, that’s hot on you.”

“Thank you. You gonna invite me in?” Your hands fall on his chest, covered by a soft white dress shirt.

“Oh I don’t know, what if you are a vampire? Shit I’m scared!” He asked, feigning fear then, a cross on his fingers. You snorted, shoving at him.

“You’re the vampire. Look.” You ease your choker up, showing him the giant red and purple bruise. He sucked in his breath, and suddenly you were in the house, shoved against his wall.

“Does it hurt?” He asked, and you were unsure of how he meant his words, a taunt? Concern?

“No, it’s just tender.” He kissed you softer, yanking on the choker just a bit, putting the slightest pull to your neck. “Mnh.”

Did that come out of your mouth? From just that?

“Oh sweetheart, you already are becoming a fucking freak.” He crooned the words, one hand on the wall next to you, the other rubbing across the exposed mark, causing you to tense in a mix of pain and desire. “I barely touch you and you fall apart, bet you’re wet aren’t you?”

“N-no. It's just… shit. Fine, maybe a little.” He slid the choker up and licked the bite mark, sending sparks of pain down you, making your tummy clench with desire so quickly it was ridiculous.

Gojo was so close, your air intermingling, hot sighs against your soft skin, you inhaled him, enveloped against his hard embrace. “Hmm. You sure are learning not to lie to me, that’s my good girl.” He slipped a hand down under the coat at the top, moaning softly when he grabbed a soft breast, pleased look on his gorgeous features. “You wore it.”

“Y-yeah. Because it’s pretty.” He chuckled, finally easing back. “Was there no date, just you fucking me on a wall and making Kiyotaka drive me home?”

He chuckled. “Would you complain?”

“No… yeah no. As long as I get food.” He grinned down at you, hair soft and falling, making you brush it back tenderly.

“No silly. I have plans. But I wanted you to show up like this for… reasons.”

You smirked. “Reasons huh.”

“Oh yeah. Also I wanted to do something first. Come on." He finally eased off you, making you miss his cool hard body, but the house was nice and warm.

The interior of Gojo’s house was elegant and tasteful, with large light gray couches in the living room, a sleek bar with stools, and his kitchen was one that had always made you envy. Double oven and an island in the middle. You walk along the plush carpeting, soft light filtering through fancy crystal chandeliers, casting a warm glow over everything.

The fireplace was lit, something that made you instantly ease, crackling a soothing sound against the soft jazz music he had playing. Everything about Gojo and his home were elegant, ridiculously clean, but he had cleaners for that. But Gojo still kept things tidy, even at his office.

“Come here, pretty.” You walked to him, and he swept you in his arms, starting to dance with you, alone in the living room, and you struggled not to hide your face from emotions. “I wanted a little dancy dance.”

“I kinda love it.” You peeked into his gaze. “You're so much more romantic than I thought.” He spun you around, a little pink on his high cheekbones.

“I'm giving it a shot.” You smile tremulously, pressing closer to him, falling into each step.

“Aww, I feel special.”

“That pussy is.” He purred the words with a wink.

“Gojo!” You smack at him, but he yanks you hard, dipping you low over his arm, your hair touching the carpet below, before swinging you back up.

“You want me full on sappy already, fucking brat?”

You shook your head, moving against him, finding your rhythm. “No… just be you.”

He paused, then kissed you, softly, one of your hands entwined, the other on your waist. You sighed into his lips, falling deeper and deeper. “Mmm we'll never get there if I keep kissing you.”

“Get where?”

“You'll see.”

You and Gojo were hand in hand as you went up the elevator to the restaurant Gojo had surprised you with, and you had only heard of it before, unlike any other in Japan. It was nestled in the heart of Tokyo, amidst the bustling cityscape of neon lights and endless high-rises, and it was up on the top of a high rise itself, one of the tallest, with rooftop seating.

As you approached, you could already smell the tantalizing aroma of fresh sushi wafting through the air, mingling with warm sake and incense. The moment you all stepped upstairs to the top, you were enveloped in an atmosphere of serenity as the evening sky and all of the lights of the city were just below you, gentle breeze blowing your hair around.

“What ya think?” Gojo asked, so casually, as you all were led by a hostess to a pretty little table by the balcony, with the perfect view of the lit up city under twinkling stars. You sigh happily, smiling up at him.

“It’s breathtaking. Really.” The chatter amongst the people also there intermingled with the light pop music playing as you were seated. The table itself was gorgeous, a single red rose rested delicately in a crystal vase, and a crisp white linen cloth draped over the table.

“Good I’m glad. It’s my favorite place.” He pulled out your seat, which was cushioned by a plump, red pillow. “My lady.” He purred, you giggled, scooching in, and he yanked the chair from across from you, sitting it next to you. The hostess watched on with envy, clear and stark on her face, as Gojo casually wrapped an arm around you over the back of your chair.

“Mr. Gojo, it’s always good to see you.” She said softly, leaning forward and handing him a little folded paper. You smirked, as did he, grinning and popping it down next to one of the ringed napkins.

“You as well, Kinako. Can we get a bottle of white to start?” He smoothly commanded, and her cheeks heated. “That good with you baby girl?”

You could feel her glare, and Gojo seemed to enjoy the reaction, as if he’d said it to prove something. You grow flustered, and feel his blue gaze on you, eyes twinkling with mischief. “That sounds perfect, Satoru. Thank you.”

“Ahem. Of course, right away Mr. Gojo.” She rushed off, leaving you two snuggling against the breeze, a strong hand cupping your jaw.

“Aww you jealous?”

“I figure this is everywhere you go.” He wiggles his brows.

“The ladies do love me.” He kicks his feet up and you scowl, shoving them down off the table. “What?”

“That’s so rude! You can’t just put your feet on it!”

“I pay enough.” He scoffed with a shrug, then peeked at you. “You don’t have shit to worry about.”

You felt a tightness in your chest as he spoke those words. “I wasn’t worried, it just would be nice if women weren’t so mean when I’m with you is all. So are you gonna keep her number?”

He snorted at you, shaking his head. “No. Why, when you’re right here?”

You kiss him then, uncaring of anyone around you both. “I don’t expect that you know.”

“Yeah well.” He crumbled up the number and winked at you. “I mean that pussy is elite, so.”

“Stop it. You’re actually being really sweet tonight. Thank you.”

“Mmm, I have my moments.” He nipped your lower lip as the waitress came back with a bottle and two glasses, a chilled fancy dark green bottle you couldn’t pronounce. “Ah, thank you.”

“Of course, Mr. Gojo. Here’s the menu!” She handed him it, and didn’t bother to hand you one, which at this point just made you burst out laughing. The waitress glared, and soon Gojo was laughing too, attracting the attention around you both. The girl grew pink with embarrassment.

“Is it okay if I eat too?” You ask her, and she looked properly ashamed, as Gojo nudged you with his shoulder.

“She’s such a angry bitch when she doesn’t eat. So abusive! Ow!” You smacked his shoulder, and he feigned injury. “God, save me from her!”

“I… I… ahem. I can get another menu.” You and Gojo went back and forth like children.

“No no, I’ll order this evil bitch something. Please pray for me, Kinako!” He took her hand, and you watched her melt, as Gojo’s shoulders shook with laughter. You felt so good and just… fuck.

Gojo was something.

“It better be yummy.” You threaten, and Kinako’s eyes are wide as Gojo holds a hand to his chest.

“Oh gosh, the pressure! She ties me down and makes me watch finance specials, you know. This is my cry for help!” You let out a pig like snort, your hands on your face as you die laughing.

“I’ll give you a moment, Mr. Gojo.” As she runs off Gojo nearly dies laughing right along with you.

“Now she’ll really want you!”

“Nah. She’ll be scared of your wrath.” He is flush from laughing, white hair falling in front of his forehead, shadows flickering in the evening lights of the rooftop restaurant, lit by soft lighting all around.

“You don’t have to turn anyone down.” You look down as you speak, but he tilts your chin up.

“No interest to me.” He said simply. Your lips part and you feel the desire for him pulling at you, the soft spot for him blooming. “I mean I like my nun, you know.”

“Good, your nun likes you. Okay what are you getting?” You peek over at his menu, and he points to some fancy name you can barely decipher. “Fuck, too expensive everything. Like maybe a chicken dish for me?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m rich as fuck. Let me treat you, please.”

You sigh, and he explains things on the menu for you, pointing out what is what, you decide on a small dish and earn his glare. “What? It looks yummy?”

“I like a girl who eats.” You roll your eyes.

“I do eat… just don’t have that god metabolism you do.”

“Your body looks good as fuck. Don’t wanna lose that ass do you?” You feel your cheeks heat up as he teases you.

“Oh gosh. Fine. Maybe this one?”

“A little better.” He wrapped his long arm around you again so casually, and you liked it. A lot. “You're kind of like my girlfriend now, you know.” He was casual as he trailed his fingers down your shoulder.

Your eyes widened, goosebumps under the coat. “Wh-what?” He chuckled, tilting your head to his.

“I didn't ask you out, just saying.”

“You’re confusing.”

“If I wanted to, probably would do it while fucking, you say yes so easy then.” You breathed out a sigh, trembling under his touch, his energy around you intoxicating, making you nervous not being alone.

You gulp for some courage, sipping the delicious white wine then. “You think you’re that amazing huh?”

‘No, I know I am.” He pecked little kisses up your jawline, long fingers playing in your loose long hair. Your heart was going wild though you wouldn't show it.

“Maybe.” You concede, earning his shit eating grin.

“You got all excited. Do you want me to ask you out?”

“I…” You trail off when the waitress comes back, and for once you’re thankful for the interruption, your mind a jumbled mess. You'd expected maybe to be some kind of regular fuck with Gojo or something… and pathetically maybe, you'd take it. Because Lord that man was talented. But a girlfriend you hadn't thought would even be a thing. You’d wanted so badly to leave not long ago, but things had changed so much.

You missed him just one day without seeing him.

“I’ll have this, and this for the lady. Then we’ll have this for dessert together, and also this and this…” He pointed everything out as the girl wrote it all down on a notepad, smiling and bowing in her little blouse and vest.

“Right away Mr. Gojo.”

Gojo pours you another glass, and you sip it, tangy on your tongue, and then caught a drip on the corner of your mouth, wiping it gently with a thumb. You press a little kiss to it, enjoying the catch in his breath.

“It’s delicious. Thank you so much for tonight, Satoru.” You take his hand, kissing his knuckles, and Gojo lets out a little quiet moan, drinking in your body still stuck inside the overcoat. His hand catches your thigh, his thumb playing with the little garter, bending low towards you.

“Good I’m glad. I’m dying to see this.” He whispered, tickling your skin with his breath. “Torturing myself tonight.”

“Maybe it’s a little torutre for me too.”

“Is it? Fuck, You’re already so hot here.” He said softly, tauntingly, hand close to where you ached for his touch. “I love how easy you are for me.”

“I’m not easy…”

“ For me .”

You scowl, sticking out your tongue childishly. “Shut it.”

“Admit it, brat.”

“I’m not easy for you I just… I don’t know, fuck. I get… yeah… easy around you, ugh why do you annoy me like this?”

“You love me, don’t lie.”

You froze, tensing, hoping he would not push that one and was teasing like always. But thankfully, food came before either of you could say anything else. Gojo’s plates and bowls took up much of the table, and he looked like a kid eating cake on his birthday at this point. He started piecing out everything, making you a plate, making you smile with the care he showed.

“Try this!” Gojo popped a little delectable morsel into your mouth, truffle something or other, and your eyes close in pleasure.

“Mmm!”

“See, so good! And this!” He slid another bite of a shrimp of some kind, and you chew thoughtfully.

“Ooh it’s good too!”

Gojo’s eyes grew impossibly brighter, grinning. “See, and this!”

“Gojo you really love food.” He chuckled, popping food into his own mouth, making chewing look sexy somehow.

“I do indeed. Come on, keep that ass nice.” He winked and tried to put more food in your mouth, you chuckled and shook your head.

“Let me try my dish silly.” You start to cut up your meal, and fork a bite into his mouth now, which he takes as sensually as a human could.

“Ooh that’s good too!”

You fall into a comfortable silence as you both nibble, sharing bites and sipping on your glasses of wine as the breeze flows, scents of foods filling the air, and the scent of Gojo’s tantalizing cologne. It was easy to be with him, so easy it sort of boggled your mind, a mix of friendship and comfortability. Eventually you all finish and the waitress brings decadent desserts.

“Eat this! Try it, it's better than sex!”

You shook your head with a laugh, and he was forking something sweet between your lips, hand under your chin to catch any crumbs. He wiped the corner of your lips as you chewed, licking the finger. You chewed the delectable treat slowly, moaning as the chocolate melted against your tongue.

“Ooh, it is good. Oof!” He handed you another bite, so sweet and hot in your mouth. “Not better than sex though.”

He grinned wide, blue eyes narrowing. “I must be fucking amazing. Considering you hated sex just last week.”

You felt your cheeks heat, the lingerie rubbing against your skin making you ache in places as you thought of him in you. “You won’t hear any shit talking about that aspect of you. Just the other annoying shit.” You started nibbling on a piece of some berry cheesecake confection, he leaned in, opening his mouth. You give him a piece of it, popping it between his lips, and he licks your finger.

“You kinda felt like a virgin honestly.” He mused, softer voice so that it was just between you two, and you nearly choked, sipping on your wine, that had created a delectable head fuzz.

“You can be tight and have had lots of sexual experience. Doesn’t mean anything really.”

“No shit, I know that. I’ve played with a lot of pussies. But no, not what I meant. Like I broke something.”

“Gojo! The fuck! You’re so full of yourself that you think you broke me?” You whisper, and he shrugs, so full of himself that you realize this is still Gojo, as sweet as he’d been you’d gotten confused.

“Well, I just wonder if the boys never hit deep enough. Smaller than these, remember?” He wiggled his fingers at you.

“You’re ridiculous. I mean… I don’t know. If not, wouldn't it have hurt a ton with you then?”

“Didn’t it? At first.”

You paused. Shit. “But that’s because you’re huge.” You peer nervously, making sure you all are out of ear shot.

“Lots of women took this dick fine. You had some trouble. Granted, you are kind of petite there.”

“You probably just want me to have been a virgin so I complete your nun fucking fantasy.” You pointed a fork at him and he tried to look innocent.

“You really basically were. Never been eaten out, no blow jobs… do you even remember having sex with the small dick college dudes?”

You frown, sighing. “Not really no… As I said it was just twice and both times I was not sober, but bits and pieces. I know it happened. Condoms.”

“Ah…” He paused, then studied you. “We didn’t use one, hmm.”

You paused as well. “Huh. We didn’t. Well, I’m on birth control though, so we don’t have to… especially if you mean to be exclusive. If you don’t want to use them. Gojo is this the best place for this convo?”

He quit eating for a few, hand back on your thigh. “Sure it is. Fuck, the thought of you pregnant is kinda hot though. Maybe go off it.”

Your mouth opened in shock, then you felt yourself heat up, probably red as the jacket you wore, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Satoru! No, what the…”

“Mmm it is though.” His hand went to your tummy, splaying over it, leaned over you so close you were sure you two looked scandalous. But you craved his touch. “I wonder if I put enough cum in you if I can fuck through the birth control then?” His words were slow, deliberate, nearly a silent purr out of his lips and fuck… they did shit to you. A lot of shit.

“Jesus…” You feel your thighs shift, and he notices it, movements like a hawk. “Is this a kink thing again?”

He let out a low chuckle. “You could definitely say that. I think you may be a little interested in it by that response.”

You bite your lip against the thoughts that flow through your head, imagining him cumming in you, over and over, until… God you all were in public, what were you…

“Mind going wild?” He taunted you. You had no energy to lie, simply parting your lips a bit and sighing, as his hand pressed into your tummy, hot and firm. “Thinking of me filling you up here?” His lips caressed your temple as he bent low and murmured those dirty thoughts you shared.

You let out a little cry and then covered your mouth quickly, but he heard it, and the mood changed suddenly.

“Say it.” His hand pressed more, slipping under the coat you still wore deftly, thumb splaying down past your navel. “You could feel me here, couldn’t you?” You nod weakly. “Can’t use your words?”

“Mmm.” You cover your mouth once more, aching against the plush seat, unable to stop your reaction as friction started against your pussy. Gojo looks like he’s won the fucking lottery.

“Wanna go?” He asked, and you nodded.

You two asked the waitress for cases, and packed up food for later, you with trembling hands, and him with calm and sure ones, heading down the elevator until you were out in the night air, where Kiyotaka waited with the large black car. Gojo opens the door for you, and you two slide in the back seats, and it doesn’t take until the door is shut for him to start to unbutton your jacket.

Your head tilts back a bit, and he’s kissing your exposed neck, deft fingers undoing the buttons swiftly, until he opened it up fully and sat back, drinking your body in. His eyes grew hooded, full lips parted, his nostrils just slightly flaring before his hands eased the coat off your shoulders, just bunched up on your arms now, pooling behind you.

You were so beautiful, your lush breasts cupped by this lace, chains glittering against your smooth skin, exposed in little areas, concealed in others, enticing Gojo like nothing he had ever seen. You gaze up at him with desire in your eyes, your lower lip being bit by your teeth, brow just a little worried, as if you were nervous. But how could you be, when you were so perfect to him?

Gojo struggled to keep a steady touch, not to show how much you fucked him up mentally, what you did to him. You were his fantasy, and here you were, in something he’d dreamed of for a couple of years now. He got to watch you fall apart, show your true nature, embracing your desires, let go.

Even his dreams didn’t live up to you, however, his eyes were drinking every inch of your curves… sinful how good you look, soft, your skin silky, feelings written all over your face. You were leaving him wanting to kiss every inch… simultaneously driving him crazy as he pictured so many ways to have you.

Gojo was just sitting there, his eyes devouring you in your lingerie, not even touching you, and you shifted, pussy aching and insatiable for him, wanting some kind of friction. You craved his lips on you in the worst ways. Wanted more of that cock that had been inside of you only one time so far, but was now something you were desperate for again.

Big hands gripped your thighs, spreading them just a bit to see that you wore those crotchless panties, that your glistening pussy was bare to him. He groaned, then kissed you deeply, pushing you down into the back seat, tasting like the sweet treats he’d eaten and just… him. Gojo.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He whispered, and instinctively you wanted to shake your head, but he held your face, hard. “Nuh uh. No denying it. Got me?”

You nod then. “Thank you, Satoru.” You say instead, and his lips join yours once more, hard long body pressing on top of you, making your hips arch up and wiggle for more contact. His finger is quick to find your glistening folds, swirling your wetness around your already throbbing clit. You cry out, but he drinks your cries, going in aching slow circles.

“Fuck. I wanna do this in my bed.” He mumbled, and you gave a little breathless laugh, kissing his neck, tasting the little saltiness of his sweat.

“I hope you did clean your sheets after snorting coke on Erica’s ass.”

“Pshh, I really didn’t fuck her. God you’re jealous and don’t even date me yet, another hint you want it?”

“Am not! And I…”

“The sheets are clean as fuck. But we’ll probably be ruining them.” He eased off you, closing the jacket up loosely. “We’ll be home soon.”

You all get into Gojo’s house and it’s mere seconds before your coat is gone, leaving you looking obscenely sexual in lace and chains. He rubs his large hands greedily down your body, leaving each area in a trail of goosebumps on your skin, until he hits the thigh high boots, raising a brow.

“Ooh, I really fucking like these.”

“Yeah?” You tease, hands on his shirt, unbuttoning them slowly, pop pop they went until a large sliver of his chest and abdomen revealed themselves. His smooth pale skin was taut over each muscle and groove.

“Yeah.” He bent down, a breath away from where you were exposed, unzipping your boots slowly. “Steady yourself on me.” You did as he said, holding on to his bare shoulders as he lifted each leg. There was something ridiculously sensual about Gojo taking off your shoes…

He pushed you gently, until you were against the wall, and raised one of your legs over his shoulder kissing up your thigh and peeking up at you with that breathtaking azure gaze. Your heart stopped, breathing erratic, hands shaky on his strong shoulders. “May I?”

“You don’t have to ask.” You watched his reaction to those words, and stared down as the tip of his tongue slid up your aching slit, eyes not leaving yours, making you even more sensitive. “Ah! Fuck…”

You cried out and Gojo slid his tongue up and down again, tasting you, before his thumbs parted your lips to open the area to your clit, and he was flicking his tongue, fast. You lean back on the wall with your head, eyes fluttering shut, and Gojo was worshiping you on his knees.

Your hips were shoving forward for more of his wicked tongue, that seemed to know you even better now. He knew the pressure he needed, the pace, it was insane and heady. As he shoved his tongue in further, humming on your clit as he sucked it into his mouth, you started screaming.

“Satoru! Unh… yes… I … ah!” You fell apart all over him, your mind and body shattering from pleasure, shivering as it flowed through you, and he was drinking your wetness more and more, riding out your orgasm with his moans.

He eases up, and has to hold you, for your knees did not even want to function, before kissing you, deeply. “You taste so fucking good, baby girl.”

“Mnh… th-thanks.” You can hardly speak. He grins against your lips, then snatches you up, your legs around his waist, and he’s walking you through the house, opening the door of his room deftly, laying you down on his black soft comforter. His bed is so soft you feel your tense body aching.

“I don’t even want to take this off of you, but I need these out.” He mused, and sighed as he did so, unsnapping off your bra with ease. He also slid off your panties, but he paused on the stockings. “Hmm. Let’s keep these on. And this.” He fingered your chain. You nod eagerly, making him laugh. “Can’t find words, baby girl?”

You gulp, licking your lips. “Orgasm brain, remember?”

“Is that all it is? Not the talk earlier about me fucking a baby into you at the restaurant?” He yanked on the chain you wore, pressing it into your soft skin.

You gasp then, eyes wide, and his are sparkling, glittery blue, fucking wicked demon that he literally was. Your mind whirls, your eyes darting away, before being brought back by a firm hand on your chin. The scent of Gojo is everywhere in this room, clean and woodsy and so fucking addictive. It fills you, as does his breath, his touch, those words.

You lick your lips, peeking up at him through lowered lashes. “I want you to fill me up, Satoru.”

That came out of your mouth?

His body tensed over you, he had his pants off, and he shoved into you in one hard thrust suddenly, shocking you, filling you to the brim. So different from his ease inch by inch yesterday, but God it felt deliciously good, that cock stretching the tight cunt of yours. So deep it was damn near in your tummy he spoke of.

Gojo lifted your legs up over his elbows, shoving deeper. You cry out loudly and he's holding your face with two hands then, pausing,and he is so deep it's insane to handle. Wriggling under him trying to relax your muscles, but your pussy just throbs around the invasion and stays tight. Gojos hair falls over his brow as he states down at you.

“You okay?” He asks it through gritted teeth. You nod, sighing as you hold on to his strong arms. Even being a little rougher he clearly cared for your comfort.

“Good. Good.” You haven't been able to speak sensible words most of the evening. That really wasn't like you but Gojo's cock was now in the equation. He smiles above you, and pulls out to shove back in.

“How flexible are you?” The question made you worry what was next, and before you could answer, he had your legs all the way up, pressing them hard against your body. “You'll take my cum better this way.”

Gojo began to pump, hard and fast, but not fully in thank God, the friction and rhythm way too much, making your already sensitive cunt hit its peak quickly, and then you're cumming all over his hardness. He hisses, easing back and pushing deeper as your body becomes lubricated from your release. You moan into inviting lips.

“You feel so-so-so good, Satoru. So… so… mmm.” You were feeling yourself start to fall apart again as he fucked you deeper, making you ache, his eyes glittering as they watched your every expression.

“You feel so fucking good wrapped around this cock. Is this what you wanted all day, baby?” You nod weakly, and soon he eased up on your legs just a bit, yanking your choker off, air hitting the bruise.

Your screams echo the room as he bites hard on already sore flesh, tearing into the bruise as he fucks and fucks you harder, the slaps of his skin against yours loud. His balls are smacking against your ass, his pelvis against yours as he sinks deeper. Your head lolls to the side, fingernails digging into his perfect skin, leaving marks. Your body is taut, tense, as you feel another peak start to rise.

“You cum so easy for me, don't you little brat?” He demanded above you, breath making your throat burn from the new bite. “Look at me.”

You turn your sore neck, and he's kissing you again, sloppy, tongues sliding against each other, his saliva dripping into your mouth. He is moaning his own pleasure into your lips. Gojo yanks your body, sliding it down so he becomes impossibly deeper, now going in and out with ease. The noise of your wetness mixes with the sensation of it dripping out of you and around him.

“Use your words. You want me to fuck a baby in here. Don't you.” His hand presses to your tummy, and he grins, white and devilish above you. “I can feel my dick fucking your guts up.”

“I want you to. Unh. Please please please.” You had no shame anymore, head falling back into the soft bed as he now was fucking the shit out of you, using your body to yank you further onto his cock.

“You're so hungry for this cum, are you?” You nod, gasping for breath then when he reaches a hand down and finds your puffy lips, your little clit, rough thumb rubbing. You begin to shatter, everything fading but Gojo. “Say. It.”

The thrusts became even more intense, your over sensitive clit being played as your insides were jumbled by his cock. You gasp for any sense of self, mind whirling, your body on fire, tensing, muscles taut, but everything is just him. Satoru.

“I am. Fuck! Ugh. I want your cum so deep in me.” Your words made him shut his eyes, forehead resting on yours for a moment, you could feel him shaking.

“Do you, fucking cum hungry slut? Want it all in this tight fucking pussy?” He growled the words, and you should've hated them, but God you loved it. You'd be his slut. Goddammit. Especially as he started hitting that spot so deep only he could find it in you, making you see stars.

“I want it. I need it. In me deep, please-please. Ah!” The play became too much and you started cumming once more, nails digging into his back as you hang on for dear life while he rails you through your orgasm, heightening it.

Gojo hisses as your cunt is pulsing around him now, his hand easing off your slickness, to press against the bed next to you, leaning up his body and altering the position inside of you, rubbing against your walls. “Milking me with that little cunt for all of this cum, aren’t you?”

You just nod, wordless, breathless, each stroke making you oversensitive now. “Please, Satoru, please.”

He groaned over you, slowing, fucking erratically now, so tense. “Want me to put a baby in you?” He hissed the words through his teeth, brow furrowed, eyes bright and mad. “Fucking breed you?”

“Yes yes yes. Put a baby in me. Yours. Mnh yes.” He fell apart over you, with shaky groans, rhythm jerky. His arms are digging into the soft backs of your thighs, and you could feel his hot cum shooting in your tight hole, so deep. You felt yourself coming when he pressed against your cervix, bottoming out, pushing the cum further in.

“Take it all. Every fucking drop.” He throbbed in you as you did around him, sucking in all his cum, which was leaking out of you as it mixed with your own. You relaxed your body, gasping for air, and he eased your sore legs down, pulling out, and you trembled, his cum sliding out of your pussy down your inner thigh.

“Fuck.” You sat up just a bit on your elbows, panting heavily, and then he pulled off to look down at the mess he'd made, smiling like the devil.

“You took me so good, little nun.” He shocked you, playing with his cum that had fallen and shoving it back into you, hurting sensitive flesh with long fingers. His gaze was wild, and it intimidated you then, so powerful and fucking insane, eyes all dilated. “Don't waste all this cum, now sweetheart, take it all.”

“Satoru… I… I can’t…”

“All of it. Like a good girl.” Gojo shoved in more, and you felt tears prick your eyes, overstimulation taking hold from coming so hard so much. “Aww, you're so pretty crying and dripping with my cum.”

“Ugh. Fuck you, jerk.” He laughed, easing off you then just to lick on your sore neck, torturous. You hissed. “Fucking vampire!”

“You can run that mouth again, should I fill you up with more cum until you can't fucking speak?” You moaned, and he kissed down your breasts. “You are already so eager for more. My nun is becoming my little slut.”

“Can't… cant…. hurts. Too much, too much.” You shook when he sucked on one of your nipples, fingers shoving into you one more time, making you cry.

“Giving up, are we? Tsk tsk. Fine. I love looking at you like this, though.” Gojo shoved those long fingers into your mouth then, and you were sucking both of your come off them, tasting both of you, so deep it made your tears flow out more down your cheeks, pleasure, overwhelming, pain, so consumed. “So pretty, baby.”

You felt hot sticky tears fall to your lips, salty tasting along with the come, and you saw him gaze down as if he owned you. Maybe he did. Your brain didn't work anymore, as if his cock had truly scrambled it.

“Satoru… I…”

He finally slid off you, laughing at you now. “You're such a mess. Poor baby girl is in tears. Can't talk again? Did I fuck your smart little head up.” He kissed your forehead sweetly, a complete contradiction to his words.

“Ugh. Never mind. You're such a dick!” He laughed again, pulling you against him and hugging you.

“Now I have to know. What were you gonna say?”

“Fuck it, no.” You felt him wiping tears away, frowning now. He touched your chin gently.

“Hey, was all that too much?” His words were soft now, deep voice so caring it couldn't match a moment ago, caressing your face. “If you ever don’t like anything just tell me.”

“No, I liked it. A lot. Asshole.” He sighed a bit, as if relieved. “I just really am… I really… l…”

“Really love my dick?”

“Stop cutting me off!” He put a hand to his mouth trying to appear innocent. “Conceited ass.” You roll your eyes. “I… ugh I guess I just feel a lot for you.” You looked away, so embarrassed. He would probably taunt you, tease you…

“Yeah, same.” Your eyes met his in shock. He was on one arm studying you very seriously.

“Yeah?” You whisper, and he nods just a bit, tense himself.

“Yeah… although that's been a kink of mine, I've never fully acted on it.” Gojo's cheeks dusted with pink.

“Oh?” He nodded.

“I guess no one has made me want to put a baby in them so bad. Drove me a little crazy there for a bit.” His half cooked smile was sort of shy, a side you never saw of him.

“I drove you crazy hmm?” He nods. You feel way too warm inside at the thought. “Sometimes, you're really sweet, you know.” You caress his soft skin on his face, kissing his forehead. He closes his eyes with a sigh.

“I feel… Things too. Shit, this isn't normal even for good sex. The connection is… I…” Your heart thudded, body weak to fight anything, mind askew. He cleared his throat then, smirking. “You didn't even try to deny any of it tonight, no fight left huh. Just please Satoru, please!”

You scowl and smack him hard, he grabs your wrist with his wicked grin. “I can't tell if I like, love, or hate you at any given fucking moment. Ugh! You're so annoying! I’ll show you fight!”

He was laughing softer now, pulling you against his chest, warm against your face. “I kind of know the feeling, you're such a bitch. Then sometimes you’re my sweet, little cum hungry brat. Ah ah no more hitting. Or I'll smack the fuck out of this.”

His hand gripped your pussy and you squeaked. “No no no.”

“We will have to get working on that stamina of yours, little virgin nun.” You scowl up at him. “I’d like to fuck more than once in a day but no ‘I hurt Satoru, no no!’”

“Hate it is.” He grinned against your hair, snuggling you. “I took it way better this time, I am not a nun.”

“Fuck yes you did.” Another kiss. Another fall deeper into love you went for this shithead. Fucking Gojo. “Let me take care of you… That was a lot, hmm?” You nod shyly into his chest. “Want a bath?”

You moan. “Ooh yes please. I haven't had one in forever. Just have the stand up shower.” It sounds heavenly 

“I'll get you one started. And some ice for that neck.” He kisses you once more, hopping off the bed. “Be right back.”

You finally peek around the bedroom, breathing in and out a bit, your entire body was aching from his touches, from his cock, his hands… his teeth. You hiss in pain when you touch it, hearing the water running from the bathroom. His room is all in blacks and dark blues, elegant modern furniture, nothing too extravagant, but still looked sleek and expensive.

The bed you’d been positively railed on was a dark wood four post bed, high, thick and plush. So comfy your body wanted to just fall asleep in it. Your fingers ran over the cover, soft under your palms. Gojo came back, stark naked, and you felt yourself hurt from how gorgeous he really was, every inch of him so chiseled.

“You’re so…”

“Perfect?” He wiggles his brows, batting his spiky lashes. You shake your head at him as he sits next to you.

“Yeah.”

His eyes widened. “Really? Not a conceited shit?”

“That too.”

“Mmm, there’s my girl. I like how mean you are.” He gently kissed your neck where he’d been annihilating you over and over. You shiver, then he brought a cool little napkin against it. You moan.

“Oof, that feels good.” The cool ice feels so good you lean into it. He hands it to you, and you press it against your neck, as his fingers go down to your chain, gently unclasping it and then working on your garters. He peppered little kisses down your legs as he did so. “A girl could get used to this.” You mused.

“You’re awfully lucky. I’m Gojo Satoru and here I am, at your feet all the time.” He kissed your ankle then. You flush. “Blushing all over.”

“I do like you on your knees.”

“Oh fuck, dom much?” You shook your head, biting your lip, sitting there completely naked in front of him.

“Dom… Dominant?”

“That’s it. Look at you learning.” A fingertip taps the tip of your nose super condescendingly.

“You kinda are a dom though? Right?”

“I am. But I’d switch it up if you wanted.” He stood, and pulled you up.

“Me dominate you?” It was hard to imagine. He grinned.

“It’s not my thing really, but then again, I love when you’re so mean. Maybe I’d try it once. Let you fuck your frustrations on me.” Heat pooled embarrassingly in your lower tummy all over again.

“I should try on top some time though, yeah?” You ask, a little nervous for some reason. “What if I suck up there, though?”

He chuckled, bending down and popping a kiss on your head. “You won’t suck at all. We’ll try it next. Come on.”

Gojo guided you to his bathroom, which was bigger than your own bedroom, easy. Gorgeous tile, cream marble, an enclosed glass shower on the left and a giant claw tub on the right, pretty granite counters with two sinks and a lit mirror. The tub was filled with bubbles, and he bent down to shut the water off.

“It’s beautiful here. I haven’t ever seen your bathroom. Weird.”

“Come get in, princess.” He held out a hand, and you took it, easing your aching body into the tub. You suck in a breath as the hot soapy water hits you, sitting and sinking in, sighing, leaning your head back in bliss. “Never thought I’d have you in my tub.”

“Never thought I’d be in it.”

“You like?”

“Very much so. Thank you.” You peek up at him, and he is studying you, gently running his hand against your hair.

“Want me to wash your hair again?” You nod, shyly. “You’re so shy about silly things but I push cum in you and you’re good.”

“I’m just… in the moment I guess. Get in here.” You tug on his hand.

“I was gonna pamper you. From here.”

“Mmm, no, get in.” He sighs with a grin, standing, cock still huge even though it was not hard at full force at the moment. He comes to sit behind you, water rising, fragrant bubbles brushing over your breasts, his hard body against you. He eases your back against his chest, kissing your cheek.

“Such a demanding brat all the time.”

“Maybe I am.” You sigh in bliss, the water gently waving as he adjusted against you, growing hard again, you between his thighs. “Yep I love this.”

“Good.” He turned your face towards his with his hand, bringing your lips together, a hand trailing errantly up and around the peak of your breast. Both came to cup them, then, and you let out a little whimper. “How’s that stamina tonight, champ?” He teased your nipples with his deft fingers then, gently twisting them a bit, eliciting a gasp.

“You so doubt me, huh?”

You turned, thighs on either side of his lap now, bringing your pussy against his hard cock, your hands on his chest. He groaned, blue eyes sultry as they studied you, hands on your hips. You lean down and take his cock in your hand, placing it at your entrance, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, cheeks puffing as he exhales, making you feel bold.

“Fuck you’re hot.” He murmured, pulling you against him, water splashing against you two, his thick tip stretching your puffy lips apart, making you tremble when it slid into your entrance just a bit. He halted you. “Hey, hey, let me work her up.”

“I can take it.” He raised a brow with a smirk, and you ease down on him, inch by inch, going up a bit to ease down more every time. Gojo’s jaw clenched, his grip tightened, two little lines between his brows.

He cried your name out when you sat down on him fully, and hearing it moaned from his lips was nearly your undoing. You shake as you hold on to him, fully sheathed in you, stretching tight aching muscles in your pussy. You shift a bit, and he hits something inside, and then you’re rolling your hips, hitting it again and again, starting to come already.

“Fuck, baby girl. Mmm.” He guided your hips, and you were thankful, so clueless up there on top of this beautiful person. His white hair was dripping wet in places, lips glistening from your kisses. You fumbled a bit, unsure of what to do, as if reading you, he pressed up against your cervix, making you throb, wetness and heat inside of you and around you.

“Like this?” You ask hesitantly, sliding up and then back down at an angle, he gripped hard, nodding.

“Do what feels good.” He took a peak of your breast into his mouth, sucking gently, and you began to listen to your body, to the sensations, riding him in the tub, both of you quickly finding pleasure heightened between you. Your legs start to ache, and then he picked you up and started fucking you.

“Mmm, I can do it.” You pout and he smirks under you, water sloshing all over your bodies.

“Let me use you like my little fuck doll. Yeah?” His words hit you hard.

“Yeah.” You managed to whisper, and soon he was using you just like one, making you come hard as he used your body to pound up into, and he continued on, until you both were drowning in your desire.

You were drying your hair with a fluffy blue towel, wearing one of Gojo’s super expensive dress shirts and nothing else, peeking over at him as he slid on a pair of black boxers and a soft gray tee shirt.

“So, would I ever be able to snort coke off your perfect tits? Hypothetically.” You started laughing at the random question. “Or ass maybe.”

“Nah I’m not Erica.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fuck off with that. I literally got drunk and high and just bitched about you leaving the whole time.”

“Aww, that’s actually cute. Kind of. Minus the snorting coke off her ass thing.” You pecked his lips then, and he exhaled, pulling you against him. “I don't like that shit.”

“I know. Haven't even done any since… since whatever the fuck we’ve been all week.”

You smile at that. What were you two? “It’s not my place to say not to, we’re like not together officially, are we?”

He frowned. “What do you call this then?”

“I don’t know… what do you call it?” He kissed you gently.

“Let’s start with this. You’re mine. Okay?” You tremble at his words. All you can do is nod. He groans, inhaling your scent and bending low over you. “You look so hot in my shirt.”

“It’s so comfy too!” You do a little shimmy and he chuckles, kissing you deeper and deeper. “Let's go to bed. We have to work tomorrow and shit.”

“Ugh fuck work.”

“We can work on the speech tomorrow night after?”

“You just want more of my dick, little slut.” You shove at him and he tackles you down to the bed. “I will try not to do much coke then, if it upsets you, by the way.”

You brush his hair back, soft from your bath, silky, studying him. “It does but like I said it’s not my place. I know it’s not like something you do in excess. Maybe I am the uptight stuck up bitch.”

“Oh you definitely are. One day I'll snort a line off you.”

“Oh fuck no you won’t.”

“So boring.”

“Boring? I just rode you in your bath, fucker.” You glare up at him. He sighs, pecking little kisses all over you.

“It was fucking amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. Sleep, huh? Also boring.” He pouted and rolled his eyes. You shook your head and giggled.

“I’m sleepy, Satoru. You’re the best snuggler aren’t you?”

He preened at that like a peacock. “Fucking bet I am.”

“Then let’s cuddle.” Gojo slid under the covers with you, asking his device to turn off the lights, and you were in his arms. You ached to just tell him how you felt, but you were terrified to ruin shit before it started. Gojo kisses your head, gently wrapping an arm around you, spooning you. You felt so safe in his arms.

“Satoru?”

“Mmhmm?”

“Thank you for the date. It was perfect.” You could feel his smile against you then, as he pulled you tighter, the sounds only the clicking of the clock, the crickets outside and the two of you breathing.

“Even though the waitress was so dick hungry?”

You sighed. “I can’t blame her. You’re pretty hot, you know.”

“I do.” You felt him pull you tighter. “But you’re mine. So I’m yours. You could fist fight a bitch I bet.”

Yours. Mine. The words echo in your mind.

“Oh my god! No, I will not even.”

“So boring.”

“Shut it. Just kiss me goodnight.”

Gojo leaned over, and you saw his bright eyes even in the dark room, with the moonlight streaming throughout the thick black curtains of his room illuminating them. He kissed you softly, but firmly, impossibly igniting more desire and more feelings with every breath, before kissing your head and letting you turn back around against him.

You were pretty fucked.

How would work go?

Would he rail you on his desk?

Shit.

“Sweet dreams, baby girl.” He said with another kiss on your head, brushing your hair back gently. You kissed the hand that was playing with your hair, holding on to his arms that wrapped you tight.

“Sweet dreams, Satoru.”

Chapter 9

Ao3 Chap:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55424137/chapters/141807505

[dgybbvrcsacgswtcbkyv]

You're too Precious

Pairing : Fem!Yu Jimin x Fem!reader

Author's note: This is inspired by a snippet of a K-Drama. I came across it on ig but I couldn't find the clip again, and sadly I don't know the name of the show. If you do know it, pls do let me know. The title is inspired by James Blake's song of the same name. I recommend you give it a listen when you're in a quiet environment. It's an amazing song. Oh also, the reader is a loser with tattoos (like me :p )

P.S. I know I can't make a Tumblr header to save my life. I tried okay?

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

Having just gotten out of lectures, you wanted to wind down as soon as possible, so you hightail it to the dorms. The early morning lectures took years off your precious twenties. The previous nights' late shift at the coffee house adding an extra strain on your tired body.

After a brief walk from your campus, you arrive at the subway and walk up to the terminal. Maybe it's because of the unusual time to catch a train, but the terminal is nearly empty. Only occupied by two girls who have their backs turned to you, sitting at a bench waiting for their train. Having heard your footsteps, they turn their heads and you catch their eyes. You almost let out an audible gasp. Both girls were beautiful. One had long pink hair and the other.. the girl with raven hair, she was absolutely stunning. The dark, wavy hair, the pale skin with pink dusted cheeks, the cat eyes and perfect nose. And to make matters worse she was dressed in a cute white sundress.

It was so difficult not to stare. You manage to not let your jaw drop and looked away upon meeting the raven headed girls eyes, trying to hide the pink hue dusting your cheeks. You realise they look unnerved as they size you up. You're used to the stares you get, though they usually come from older people. But now you feel conscious of the various tattos, and piercings that adorn your body, and your boots and all-black get-up wasn't helping your case either. You wished you wore longer sleeves, or white or.. or something-anything that didn't make them look at you like that.

You take another glance once she looks away, her dress is paired with cute sandals, and a light brown tote hangs from her shoulder. Upon closer inspection you see that there's Shin Chan badges adorning her tote. That's adorable. You think to yourself. Her wavy hair had a brown tinge to it. She was so beautiful and you felt an odd soothing in her presence. It felt like you were feeling the sunshine on a Sunday morning while laying in grass. You found yourself wishing you didn't look so unnerving. Then maybe you would've at least considered approaching them, but alas, their train pulls into the terminal and they enter the train.

~2 days later~

You feel absolutely ridiculous. This might be a new low, even by your standards. Dressed in a white shirt covering your tattoos, slacks on your feet and a casual denim on your legs, with your piercings taken out, and your usually unruly hair combed into an unusual tidyness, you stand at the same terminal.

Yes. You changed your style in hopes of running into that same raven haired beauty again. And this time you will somehow summon the courage to speak to her. She won't be put off by your appearance this time, or so you hope.

It's the second day since you embarked on your grand quest and there's still no sign of her. What were you expecting? It's a big city, thus the chances of running into her again are so very slim.

Frustrated with your own stupidity, you mutter "This is fatherless behaviour" to yourself as you kick at the floor with your brand new slacks. (Yes, you had to buy them and most of your new ensemble as they're not the usual pieces from your wardrobe)

From your peripheral vision you see someone walking up and stand next to you on the terminal. You slightly turn your head. You did a double take that almost gave you whiplash.

Black boots, fishnet stockings, leather skirt, black top, and dark makeup. It was her. The raven haired beauty. She's looking at you and you're gaping at her like you've never a seen a girl before. Well, you've never really seen one as beautiful as her. She lets out a little chuckle that had your knees shaking.

With a smirk adorning her face she asks, "Changed your style?" her voice was rough yet smooth, deeper than you expected, with a just touch of cockiness which made her that much more attractive.

You gulp, "I-um, well, yes." Wow. Great going doofus. All that planning just to fumble this bad. "I-I see you changed yours too." You say in an attempt to rescue the conversation you almost drowned.

"Yeah, thought I'd try something new. Do you like it?" she said, gesturing her hands over her black ensemble. "You look amazing." You say truthfully.

"Really? I gotta say, your new look shows a completely different side of you …?". "Y/N. It's Y/N." Before she could respond, the intercom comes alive with an announcement and the train pulls in. "Well Y/N, I'll see you around." she responds while walking away.

You absolutely love the sound of her voice, her personality matches her features perfectly and she oozes charisma. How completely unfair. If you look like the reincarnation of Aphrodite, you should at least have the common decency to have a bad personality. (You make a mental note to find out if she's bad at Math.)

But she was only annoyingly and undeniably loveable. You're thinking all of this after just a few words between you? You better get her name at least. You're in a stupor as your eyes have been following her figure as she walks towards the doors. Failing to notice that she was getting into the train.

"Wait!" you finally shout out. But she's almost inside the train and doesn't seem to hear you through the busy crowd. "Wait! wait!" you shout as you run towards her but lose sight of her through the crowd. You try to push through the crowd but the warning sound beeps and the train doors close. The train pushes away from the terminal and speeds off into the city.

[sturnstars5]

mask- matt sturniolo

ghostface!matt x fem!reader

you find out the murders of many people in your town are caused by the person you trust the most…

warnings: smut, p n v, swearing, mentions of mur!der, friends to lovers, dom!matt and sub!reader, mentions of wea!pons, mentions of kill!ng people, subtle fluff, resolved angst

i hope you guys like this!! sorry it’s a bit long!

happy kinktober:)

“yesterday, tyler alexander was found unconscious in the woods. tyler was found lying in a pile of leaves, beside a blood covered knife and oddly enough, an oddly shaped mask. he was later pronounced dead in the los angeles county hospital.” you hear the news reporter say.

“damn, that’s so sad. i cant believe this! he was just fine at that party friday night.” you say, shaking your head.

your best friend of many years, matt, is sitting quietly beside you sipping his coffee and staring blankly at the tv.

“matt?” you say, nudging him.

“oh, uh, yeah that’s really weird.” he says nervously, like he’s hiding something.

“yeah. what’s even crazier is that his friend mike was found dead with a knife in him two days before! i saw him a few weeks before it happened, i wonder who he pissed off that time.” you say.

“well he was an asshole so he kinda deserved it. he couldn’t stay with one girl to save his life.” matt says bitterly.

“ i mean you’re not wrong.” you chuckle, ignoring the hidden anger in matt’s voice.

“anyways, are you going to the costume party at tara’s tomorrow? it’s gonna be lit.” you ask matt.

“yeah, but i’m not gonna tell you who i am. you’ll have to guess!” he says, smiling and shoving your shoulder.

“okay, well i’m gonna be a witch.” you say.

“such a basic choice, why not be an inflatable cow or a pirate or somethin fun?”

“shut up matt!” you shove him.

———————————————————————————

saturday

you walk up to tara’s house as she welcomes you inside.

“fuck, y/n, you look so pretty tonight!” tara says, obviously already drunk.

and she wasn’t wrong. you were wearing a super short black minidress that had a glittery and ruffly skirt. you had on black fishnets and black knee high boots, and you carried a broom and wore a glittery black hat.

you weren’t exactly the most modest one either.

as you walked in, all eyes, especially the men’s were on you. you scanned the crowded room for matt, but you didn’t see him anywhere. you only saw your friends as they waved you over to come talk.

“hey guys, i’ll be right back, im gonna go get a drink!” you say as you walk over to the kitchen island.

you accidentally bump into a guy in a dark cloak and a white mask. he was pretty tall, and he had a knife tucked in one of the folds of his cloak.

“hey sorry, nice costume!” you say. he doesn’t say anything back, instead just looking at you then walking away.

you get something to drink as a guy in a pirate costume starts to talk to you.

“hey beautiful.” he says, clearly intoxicated.

“hey. nice costume.” you reply.

“right back at ya, you look stunning.”

you feel yourself blush, even though you aren’t really attracted to this guy.

as you two talk, you see the guy in the mask again. even though his eyes are covered by the darkness inside of the mask, you can feel his stare piercing you. he almost looks like he’s radiating anger and jealousy.

he walks over to the two of you, and you see something in the guy’s hand. it almost looks like a knife.

“come with me.” he says, taking the guy you were talking to away from you.

the guy in the mask seems like he’s really into his costume, and you begin to grow worried.

you discreetly follow them, wondering what the hell the guy in the mask was doing. you go outside, and follow the guy in the mask into the woods.

you hear the guy in the pirate costume finally speak. “hey, why are we out here? it’s cold and i’m hung-“

his sentence is cut off by loud shrieks of pain and the sound of a knife ripping through flesh and hitting bones.

“what the fuck are you doing, he didn’t do anything!” you yell at the man in the mask. you know that was probably the worst decision you could’ve made but you didn’t care right now.

“stop!” you say, trying to pull the man in the mask away from his victim.

you grab the man in the mask by the front of his cloak on his head, pulling it back. it reveals perfectly placed brunette locks in a shorter fluffy cut.

he’s still stabbing his victim, so you figure the only way to stop him is by pulling his mask.

you pull back the mask, revealing icy blue eyes, and a menacing smile. he stops stabbing the guy who is far dead by now, and he looks up at you.

the color drains from both of your faces, the pure evil in his face turns to guilt.

“matt?” is all you can voice out, just above a whisper.

“y/n, i swear, it isn’t what it looks like!”

“well then tell me matt, how do you plan on justifying stabbing this poor guy to death! i mean really, what could he have possibly done to make you do this?”

“ ‘cause he was flirting with you, alright? and i got jealous.”

“you did this all because you were jealous, matt?”

“yes, okay? why do you think tyler, mike, and all those other guys just magically disappeared?”

“they were just friends matt.”

“but they were all shitty people. i was trying to save you because i love you y/n!”

“matt, i-i love you too, but this is unreasonable. i mean, you could go to prison for life, and then some!”

“i got away with the rest so it’s fine.”

you guy’s conversation is broken when matt smashes his lips against yours. it feels so right.

he takes his cloak off, revealing just himself and his boxers.

he pushes you against a tree, supporting you with his hands on your ass.

“mm-matt, this feels so wrong.” you say in between kisses.

“no it doesn’t sweetheart, just forget about them. focus on me.” he says.

he pushes your skirt up, sliding your panties to the side. he then takes his hard dick out of the boxers, sliding it over your wet folds.

matt nudges just the tip in, and you already feel so full.

“oh, matt!” you moan.

“mm, you feel s’good for me baby. so wet and tight.”

his words turn you on even more as you bounce on his dick quicker. even in the fog of lust clouding your brain, you’re nervous that someone might come out and see you and matt.

but you don’t care, it feels so good.

matt goes faster and sloppier, making you realize he is about to come.

“y/n, i can’t hold it in much longer.”

“me neither.”

“come for me baby.”

you do just as he says, releasing your juices just as he releases his. his warm wetness coating your walls.

“so, what do ya say we leave this party and go to my place?” matt asks, cleaning you up with a piece of his cloak.

“sure, just don’t kill anyone on the way there.”

i hope you liked!!

[this-is-z-art-blog]

[ID: digital drawing of Sam Manson sitting on a low concrete wall, leaning back on her hands with one knee bent and the other leg out straight. The ends of her hair are dyed a light purple. She has a variety of dark jewelry, including earrings and a nose ring, a Star of David charm on her choker, chunky bracelets, and a number of rings. Her dark tank top has light purple text reading 'Daylight Savings Is Fake But My Jewishness Is Real', and her pleated black skirt is patterned at the edges with purple Stars of David. She also has black boots and fishnet tights. Her expression in unimpressed.]

It's been six zero days since I last saw this canonically Jewish character depicted with a cross

[ofthemorningstars]

Nocturnal Me (kabukiaku AU)

TerzoMega ~ Smut below the cut

2k words

Ao3 Version

The one where Omega finally gets to bottom.

Based on the character depictions of Terzo and Omega that have been lovingly crafted by @kabukiaku , thank you so much for allowing me to create something based off of your characters (again!), and for giving me guidance and insight along the way! They truly are so special to me, and writing them has been such a fun process!

If you enjoy this story, check out her other socials too!

kabukiaku's Ao3

kabukiaku's Ko-fi

---

Terzo lingered by the ensuite door, taking a moment to admire the sight before him. Omega lay bare on their bed, save for a pair of pale purple thigh-high fishnets. The ghoul was propped up on a mountain of pillows, already half hard with anticipation. He watched as Omega gave him a once-over, cock twitching in obvious approval. Terzo’s lips twisted in a smirk.

Terzo headed for the nightstand, stroking Omega’s leg, his tail, as he passed. A quiet shuddering sound escaped Omega in response. Having found what he was looking for, Terzo sauntered to the foot of the bed, bottle in hand. Omega spread his legs wide for Terzo as he climbed up, crawling towards the ghoul.

Terzo himself was dressed in matching lingerie: a set of black, heart-adorned lace panties and bralette, with a garter belt and black stockings. The final touch, though, indeed the main attraction, was the harness that was currently strapping an impressively large purple dildo to his body.

“Are you ready, amore?” Terzo asked, not wasting any time. He was just as eager as Omega was. He had been excited since he first brought the idea up to Omega, and every day waiting for the package to arrive had been agonizing. The thought of pleasing Omega in this way, and with equipment more fit for his size, was… enticing, to say the least. Omega answered with a nod, eyes lidded heavily, a dreamy smile on his face, but the slight twitch of his tail gave away his lingering nerves.

“We do not have to do this if you’re not ready, amore,” Terzo assured him, eyes piercing and sincere. “You won’t be letting me down.”

Omega closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply before grabbing one of Terzo’s hands. “I want this, mia luce. I want you. I always want you.” His dark flush deepened as he opened his eyes, drinking Terzo in.

“I want to make you feel good, mia ombra,” Terzo said with a soft smile, placing a soothing kiss to Omega’s knee, mouth trailing down his inner thigh. He stopped when he reached his groin, licking Omega from base to tip. Omega inhaled sharply. Terzo let his mouth linger for a moment before reluctantly pulling away, not wanting to get distracted. He needed to stay on track.

Terzo fussed with the bottle of lube before slicking the dildo like he would his own cock, taking slow, careful passes while Omega watched. Terzo’s panties were already uncomfortably tight, the strap pressing on his bulge; this would be quite the exercise in restraint, he thought.

Satisfied with his job preparing the toy, it was time to prep Omega. Terzo slicked his fingers with a fresh squeeze of lube, hesitating at Omega’s entrance and looking to him. Omega nodded his consent again, reaching down to card his claws through Terzo’s hair. With that, Terzo traced his fingers delicately around Omega’s rim, circling a few times before carefully slipping in one finger. Omega flopped back against the pillows, groaning quietly, shyly. Terzo thrust in and out until he felt comfortable working up to two, and then added a third. He expertly curled his fingers, massaging, causing Omega to whine and shift his hips as a fresh drip of precum escaped. Terzo licked it up greedily, already throbbing himself. Omega gasped at the unexpected sensation.

“Terzo…” Omega pleaded, beginning to move in time with Terzo’s fingers. He was ready. Getting into position, Terzo lined the toy up before slowly, slowly teasing the tip inside. Omega hissed, causing Terzo to freeze. “N–no, it’s good,” Omega assured him, urging him on.

Terzo carefully pushed inside inch by inch until he was fully buried to the hilt. Omega was panting and beginning to sweat, so Terzo gave him a moment, but Omega began to grind down on the toy, begging for more with his body. Terzo couldn’t help but oblige, hypnotized by the roll of Omega’s hips, the noises he was making.

Moving slowly at first, Terzo took a few cautious thrusts, spurring a groan from Omega. Encouraged, Terzo began to pick up speed, gripping Omega’s raised thighs for support, nails digging. They began to move together, Omega’s hips coming up to meet Terzo’s thrusts. Eyes pleading, Omega reached out to Terzo. Terzo took his hand, squeezing tightly for a moment before letting go. He wanted to kiss him, but he couldn’t do so in his current position.

“I love you,” Terzo told him breathlessly. “You are doing so good for me, mio caro.” A whine was all Omega could manage in response, his face a mask of pure bliss.

“More,” Omega begged. Terzo grabbed for Omega’s tail on the bed beside him, teasing and stroking, playing with the tip. Omega moaned louder.

When Omega’s noises grew needier, Terzo pulled nearly all the way out before snapping his hips forward hard. Omega cried out, gripping the sheets tightly in his fists, claws tearing the fabric. Terzo repeated this action until Omega reached up to grasp his own cock, desperately pumping. Omega was so close, Terzo could almost taste it. Thrusting faster and feeling like he himself might die of want, Terzo chased Omega’s climax with abandon.

When Omega came it was with a loud, whimpering moan, hips arching nearly off the bed, head thrown back as orgasm tore through him. Terzo was salivating as he watched Omega’s release paint hot streaks across his chest. He gave a few more thrusts as Omega rode out the waves that crashed over him, until finally he stilled beneath Terzo, struggling to catch his breath.

Terzo pulled out of him gingerly, placing a kiss to Omega’s belly before rolling off the bed to get a towel. He removed the strap with a sigh of relief as some of the pressure against his straining erection was alleviated. Returning to the bed, this time at his lover’s side rather than between his legs, Terzo tenderly cleaned Omega up, leaving gentle kisses along the way. Once clean, Terzo coaxed Omega’s head into his lap, stroking his hair and tracing the line of his jaw. Omega groaned, catching Terzo’s hand to plant a kiss on his palm. Terzo closed his eyes.

“Mm. Did you like that, my darling?” Terzo shifted, the tightness of his panties becoming more and more bothersome. He was aching to be touched.

“I… Yes. Yes, I liked that very much,” Omega stuttered, as though struggling to find the words to describe how he felt. “Thank you, tesoro mio.” He turned his head, nuzzling his face against Terzo’s thigh. The action turned into a kiss, then several kisses and gentle nips. Before they knew what was happening, they had swapped places, Terzo on his back with Omega hovering over him, lying on his belly. Omega’s hands were at Terzo’s hips, peeling away the panties that were stuck to him with precum, Terzo finally springing free from the mess he'd made. His hands ran up and down Terzo’s legs, kneading the soft flesh.

Terzo gasped as Omega’s hot mouth descended upon him, first licking, then engulfing. Omega was careful of his fangs as always, but he wasted no time, beginning to bob. Before he could find a rhythm he suddenly pulled away, as though remembering something. Terzo gasped and whined at the loss, rubbing his thighs together, desperate for friction.

Omega got up, searching for something, before finally returning a few moments later with a bottle in hand. Terzo’s heart skipped a beat as Omega slicked the narrow, spaded tip of his tail. Slowly he pushed inside of Terzo, just enough to brush against his prostate. This always more than made up for Omega’s claws prohibiting him from fingering him, Terzo thought through the fog currently clouding his mind.

“Yes… Yes!” Terzo urged Omega on. Omega’s tail played with Terzo while his mouth resumed his ministrations. Terzo writhed, panting and squirming; he had waited so patiently for what felt like an eternity, and now he was failing to hold himself together. Watching Omega come apart beneath him had nearly been enough to finish him on its own. He replayed the scene over and over in his head, the noises that Omega had made, the way his body had reacted. He focused on the enraptured sounds Omega was making now, too. On the way he could feel Omega grinding on the bed, seeking friction himself even now. It was all too much.

Orgasm found him with a loud, low groan, body shaking as he came. Despite being hard again himself, Omega simply crawled up to Terzo’s level and drew him into his arms. Terzo clung tightly, still recovering. He reached down for Omega’s cock with a trembling hand, wanting to give him some relief, but Omega stopped him, shaking his head before catching his mouth with a chaste kiss. Terzo could taste himself on Omega’s lips.

“You already took such good care of me. Look at you, you’re exhausted. Let me take care of you, mio amato.” He ran his claws through Terzo’s hair, kissing his forehead.

“But–” Terzo began, before being softly cut off.

“I’m fine. You need to rest,” Omega assured him, eyes tender.

Terzo nodded, closing his eyes and taking a moment to catch his breath. Omega showered his face and neck with little kisses, paying tribute to his love with his mouth. When Terzo had steadied himself enough, he threaded their fingers together, his own hand dwarfed by the ghoul’s. He sighed, basking in the adoration Omega was gracing him with. He let the warmth envelop him, threatening to overtake him. He welcomed it.

Feeling more grounded after a few minutes, Terzo met Omega’s wandering mouth with his own. This kiss was passionate yet sweet, conveying emotion that neither of them could have found the words to voice in that moment. Terzo’s hands began to roam, zeroing in on nipples, drifting up to rub a horn. Omega groaned into Terzo’s mouth, grinding on his thigh unthinkingly. Smiling through the kiss, Terzo’s fingers trailed down Omega’s body until they found their target, stroking Omega’s cock delicately. Omega’s breath hitched as he bucked into Terzo’s hand.

When Omega’s tail began to wind its way up Terzo’s leg, Terzo bit down playfully on Omega’s bottom lip, humming from somewhere deep in his chest. Terzo’s hand found a steady rhythm on Omega as he felt himself stir in arousal, but couldn’t quite call up the energy to go for another round. He wouldn’t leave his beloved ghoul unsatisfied, though. That simply wouldn’t do.

Descending upon Omega’s throat, Terzo nipped lightly before sucking hard, leaving behind possessive marks. Omega retaliated with marks of his own, pulling aside Terzo’s bralette to lavish his chest with affection with teeth and tongue. The world went white with a gasp when Omega found a nipple, and impossibly, Terzo felt the throbbing between his legs return with a vengeance. A hand shot up to cling desperately onto one of Omega’s horns. Omega growled against his skin.

Omega moved on the bed until their hips were on the same level, his arm then snaking its way between them. Careful of his claws, Omega grasped both of their cocks, his hand broad enough to pump them together. Terzo squeezed his eyes shut tightly at the sensation, burying his face against Omega’s chest. When Terzo’s breath came heavy, Omega picked up his pace, grinding his hips against him.

“Terzo…” Omega whispered, tightening his grip. Omega’s tail moved higher up Terzo’s leg, tickling his inner thigh. Terzo shuddered, finishing in Omega’s hand with a high pitched whine. Omega released him, giving himself a few more strokes before following behind, snarling through gritted teeth. They lay there side by side as they struggled to catch their breath. Eventually, Terzo gathered the strength to move to Omega’s eye level, resting their foreheads together. Omega sighed gratefully at the contact, nuzzling their faces together and pulling Terzo close with one arm.

When Omega began to doze, Terzo moved to pull away, careful not to wake him. He took a moment to appreciate the peace on his beloved ghoul's face before taking it upon himself to clean them up. After toweling off, he removed Omega’s stockings before stripping out of his own remaining lingerie. Satisfied, he draped a blanket over Omega, crawling into bed beside him. Omega instinctively wrapped his arms around Terzo tightly; Terzo sighed warmly, pressing a kiss to Omega’s shoulder and closing his eyes.

[incorrectbatfam]

I h3ad cannon athat all the batfam members have had/are still in their emo/goth phases.

Example:

Bruce dressed as a bat and punches criminals at night (I also head cannon that he listens to the rolling stones and MCR)

Anyways thoughts?

Also what were the other batfam members emo/goth phases like?

Dick: He was hella neurotic in his late Robin/early Nightwing days. That plus his mullet and guitar tells me he probably tried to live out of a used van he bought for $700 after a fight with Bruce only to come home a week later when someone knocked on his window.

Jason: He's the theater/classic lit goth. When he was younger he would read by the glow of a candelabra even though the lights work perfectly fine. Post-resurrection, he graduates to the biker anarchist who has no problem launching a molotov at a CEO's mansion.

Tim: He's from the 90s. He's sitting in that Y2K grunge-emo-punk gray area where his playlist is a mix of the Clash, Nirvana, and Green Day. He's coloring his hair with Kool-Aid, playing with makeup, ripping his own clothes, and talking about new songs on AOL.

Damian: He's aiming for dark academia, but that's hard to pull off if you know what American schools look like. He annotates the margins of his books with notes he thinks are insightful but are actually just basic observations. Also he listens to Imagine Dragons.

Duke: This kid isn't emo or goth, he is a punk through and through. Sassing the cops? Jumping off a bridge? Leading a ragtag vigilante team? If he wanted to, I bet he can pull off a leather jacket with some homemade spikes while blasting Bad Brains and Death.

Cullen: Canonically, he watches anime and Supernatural, and I've made a lot of Tumblr references with him. He's definitely your quintessential 2010s emo nerd—Black Parade, fandoms, the whole shabang. He also definitely followed Dan and Phil.

Stephanie: She strikes me as the early 2000s pop-punker—think MySpace and Avril Lavigne. She probably had a Not Like Other Girls phase that she quickly grew out of. I can see her cutting posters out of magazines and sneaking her MP3 under an oversized hoodie.

Cassandra: She canonically listens to Killswitch Engage, so I like to imagine what she was like as a baby metalhead. Maybe she thrifted a Pantera shirt and chopped her hair with safety scissors. And at concerts she's absolutely up front when the wall of death happens.

Barbara: I think she dabbled in a little bit of everything without ever outwardly expressing it. Her playlist is all over the board, from softer rock to screamo. She also experimented with makeup a little, like black lipstick, and is more involved in the activism side of things.

Harper: She's definitely industrial punk with a huge emphasis on the DIY aspect of the subculture. She strings soda tabs into chains, turns old screws into boot spikes, and even learned to give herself tattoos. She also absolutely has a drawer full of patch pants.

Carrie: She's a TikTok e-girl, leaning into the pinks and purples along with black and white. She turns fishnet leggings into gloves and has a bunch of animal ear headbands. She also listens to Melanie Martinez and Tame Impala regardless of if they count as alternative.

Kate: Queer people play a huge role in the punk scene and vice versa. I can absolutely see Kate jamming out to an early Pansy Division track or searching places like Bandcamp to support smaller indie artists. Also she has a jacket that says "Nazi punks fuck off."

Alfred: Before punk and its subgenres, Alfred was canonically a delinquent and in that day, delinquency meant gelled-up hair and moving like Elvis. The hair didn't work out for him, but he was able to catch one of the first shows Buddy Holly played in London.

Selina: Alt cultures are based on not having much and working with what you got. Selina would use the five-finger discount at big-box stores and save her money to support small businesses. She also went around listening to free local rock shows on Fridays.

Bruce: He listened to the Rolling Stones before, but his first real intro to the scene was a handmade zine he found on the floor at school. From there, he explored more underground artists and took up journaling as a way to vent his feelings. And then: Batman.