#hit first - plan later

[nenestansunsthings]

having svsss au ideas beyond my station

thinking. shang qinghua goes on a mission as a young disciple to some town in fuckoff nowhere and finds himself in the qiu household. and there he finds a young shen jiu, undergoing the plot he originally intended for him and hadn't realised had become real and he's so young oh god hes so young why is he so small what do you mean that part was real, he hadn't kept it why is it real—

and he panics and sneaks him the Fuck out of that house

and he's not sure what to do but surely sending him to cang qiong will fuck up something in the plot and he can't come under even more investigation and cang qiong tryouts dont happen for months anyway and his system would probably never allow it (it doesnt. it would interfere with yue qingyuans story) but shen jiu is refusing to stay anywhere near this place and wants to learn cultivating to protect himself make sure nothing like this ever happens again and sqh panics harder and

calls mobei jun.

okay. on second thought, maybe this was a bad idea. but he stumbles over himself and shushes baby shen jiu's very understandable freaking out and asks his king for the first thing hes ever asked for other than his own life.

is there any way this human child could learn cultivation in the demon world?

[fullbattleregalia]

The time has finally come-

To hit things with my hitting things stick.

[compacflt]

idk if this question has already been answered or not but idrc, would your ice have considered it "talking about it" to admit his physical attraction towards mav? like calling him beautiful or genuinely complementing him. this goes for mav too

i do feel post debriefing ice would call mav beautiful openly or some sappy bs like that

love your writing 💌

anon i need you to know this ask was so cute it made me physically nauseous. i was sick all week thinking about how cute this ask was. thank you for sending it.

i actually had a couple drabbles where yes ice both pre- and post-TGM mission is like yeah im physically attracted to you, but it’s less like “oh my god you’re so hot 😍” and more like “i mean, yeah, you objectively look like tom cruise so it’s not like i really have a choice.”

but “beautiful” specifically i had not thought of, and it has knocked me off my feet and made me go feral/rabid/undomesticated for a few days straight, so i will be writing something about this. thanks.

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

[longagoitwastuesday]

Rereading my own posts about JJK and the tags I left in those posts is making me want to chew wood. I knew virtually nothing but yeah yeah. The parallels between Gojo and Sukuna not only exist, but they are key. Yeah, Gojo indeed knows, trusts and relies on the people around his age he interacts with in that flippant, intimate and vulnerable way (Ijichi, Shoko, Nanami, Utahime); they were his classmates and childhood friends. Yes, Megumi and Gojo do go way back, I wasn't hallucinating it; in the last chapters, this will weight on the scenes in which Megumi laughs and smiles faintly. Yes, Gojo does sincerely care about things and the kids, and tries his best to do good and be good, even if he's also annoying and rude. Yes, indeed it is all very lonely. Yes, indeed there's ontological alienation. Yes, indeed love is like a curse, it is even stated that way. Yes, indeed last words doom, and keep people going; that too is a blessing and a curse, like love is. Yes, there's significance in Gojo using "boku". Yes, "when granted everything, you can't do anything... but just die peacefully" does apply to Gojo's life miserably. Yes, indeed there is a mix of longing for a normal life and being drunk on power, the feeling that one is hindering the future generations and a desire to make it better for them. Yes, indeed it is a mix of selfish and selfless motives. Yes, Gojo musing about Nobara's power being intriguing is indeed shady. Yes, Gojo's death will be done in a way that imply continuity kinda similarly to Cantor's hypothesis on the cardinality of the Continuum. And so on and on. Unfair how well constructed this manga is. Unfair how much wasted potential there is in it too. I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop being frustrated about it all. It's so good. It's so unsatisfactory. The last chapter made me smile because oh it made so much sense, of course; it also broke my heart, because of course. I wish I had never gotten into it. It's given me a lot of joy, despite everything. I've drowned in remembrance. I've had a lot of fun. And in short, I love it, quite honestly. I can't even wish I didn't. I resent it, but I can't even wish I didn't. I love it, it's both a blessing and a curse; but that's how it always goes when it comes to love.

[crimzoncrow]

🌹

I can’t pick just one for this wip, so have two!

If this spell messes with Kon's memories, if it makes him think that there's always been something where there was nothing—Tim can never in good conscience get into a relationship with him.

I love you, Tim is going to loop in his brain until he dies and every single time it'll just remind him of this and how none of it is real.

[kellystar321]

.

[asheanon]

Kuja and Sal MerAU.

— For @mahkohime

From: Ask Box Writing Prompt Game

📖 It's Story Time... (And some music to accompany!)

The tour would not end there, no. Wherever "there" was.

As the two denizens of the deep descended down the corridor, they were soon accompanied by familiar faces (the term "faces" being used rather loosely, in this instance.)

Pitch black, furnished with large, luminescent pearl-like orbs partly obscured by the brims of their pointed hats, the cephalopod-shaped masses reappeared. They slunk around them, minding the various fins and features of the two in the process. Akin to nautiluses, they swam with their sharp chapeaus leading the way, point first. It was hard to say whether they truly threatened to impale or gently poke whoever and whatever may impede them, however... after all, what were those dapper duds of theirs even made of? She certainly didn't know. Curious things; though she had come to retain some information on them by now, Sal still found herself puzzling over aspects of their existence.

In time, the Mer and these tenebrous "creatures of servitude" (as they were often "affectionately" referred to here) came to a halt before a large entryway. They swarmed around the doors, dexterous tentacles finding purchase wherever they may, slowly pushing them open.

A panoply of antique treasures soon appeared before them. Rays of sunlight, warped by the motions of the sea, filtered through the windows, casting an animated array of warm light upon the scene. Most all that lie within glistened with splendor. It was an art gallery, rich in culture. And, unsurprisingly, it was just as sumptuous as the rest of the aquatic estate.

Basking in the limelight of his possessions amidst their big debut, Kuja swerved around, facing her. Crossing paths with the sun's rays, the shimmer of his silver scales cascaded down the length of his tail as it followed him.

“Splendid, is it not?” He certainly put the "extra" in "extravagant."

Sal nodded in response, little more. There was an initial silence as she drifted slowly into the room, studying its contents with care.

Thankfully, he was no stranger to her thoughtful bouts of silence by now. There were times previous where it came off strangely unsettling, despite her often warm and gentle demeanor. Even in its familiarity, however, he still had his moments of uncertainty.

He stole a glance, studying her as her eyes continued to traverse the treasures within. After taking her time to observe many a detail, at last, she spoke.

"There are so many years of so many different lives here. Countless intricacies of creative minds and dreams made manifest. Unique, yet unified by the nature of artistic pursuit."

A small sigh debuted as an intermission between lines. Her feelings felt to be ineffable in this instance, but an attempt to translate them was made nonetheless.

"It's beautiful. And a lot to take in, when you really think about it."

There it was. Magnificent. With the spectacle thoroughly lauded, the grin the noble Mer bore swelled with pride, dazzling and oddly ingenuous for a man of his class. Perhaps it had something to do with who was doing the lauding today.

It was then that Sal noticed it. Amidst all the sparkle, shine and tales yet divined, there was one particular artifact that caught her eye. Carefully and without sparing another word, she navigated past the still-gloating merman, swimming down to a portion of the room.

Sure enough, she had spied a mirror. Her eyes met with their own reflection before lingering elsewhere. Intricate designs danced down the frame that contained it, telling stories she would never know. Though, there was one she may be able to glean from it...

The pad of her thumb met with her ring, lightly rubbing at it. It was the ring that could most always be found upon the index finger of her right hand. The Wayfarer's Ring. She entertained the thought of trying to use it here... not now, but at a later date, perhaps...

"Ah, yes... a personal favorite. Procured from the depths."

Her musings were interrupted by her fellow Mer as he appeared behind her. Of course this was a personal favorite.

Briefly, Sal humored herself with the addition of said thought into the thought pool as she continued to study the mirror. Inadvertently, her eyes met with the reflection of his in the process. The moment was fleeting... as it often proved to be with her.

"I too can't help but to stare sometimes..."

Suddenly, she felt something softly graze her hips. Hands, cradling her; arms gently wrapping themselves around her waistline.

A wave of uncertainty washed over her, head falling as she peered into an empty space somewhere upon the floor. However, her eyes soon returned to the mirror, meeting with the reflected gaze of her elegant... "friend." Or whatever he was now, really. His eyes were set upon her parallel image.

They idled before the mirror, motionless, spare the gentle sway of staying afloat. Cerulean irises locked with bright celadon. For better and for worse, it was a moment that felt to be frozen in time.

Softly, he hummed to himself. She could see his eyes wandering, landing somewhere just off the mark for eye contact.

"Surely, to be forced to hide such beauty is a sin."

It was as if her heart sank - or she was stricken by some other manner of poetic interpretation of a troublesome reaction. Either way, claimed by unease, she knew exactly what he was referring to. This time, a sigh of a more weary nature escaped her. It was not the first of its kind in relation to the soon-to-be subject.

"This close to the surface, it's necessary."

"Not here, though." One of his hands was drawn up. Lightly, it brushed her back before finding its way to the topic of discussion: those long, delicate tentacles of hers, normally sprouting from the base of her head.

Today, they hid beneath white and gold ornamentation, wrapped in a dark azure silk. The fabric bore silver embroidery and flecks of white; designs that appeared as abstract mimicry of the deepest depths of the sea and sky. Her hair had been braided and interwoven within the wrapping rather artfully.

Though all was bound and tucked away beneath such adornments, its glow could not be contained. Those who looked upon it knew the truth, there was no denying it. She was an Abyssal. An Α Abyssal who refused to cut it all away and medically suppress the regrowth. She could bind it, but could never part with her heritage, as some of her kind had chosen to.

She was not the only Abyssal entity present, however...

"You needn't hide who you are from me, my dear." Though elegant and persuasive as ever, what was coming to be commonplace commentary continued to fill the air - or water, rather. Here's to another day of this song and dance of theirs... A finger traced the beginnings of the intricate wrapping of her headdress; its claw dipping into a space between the ivory and lapis blue silk, tugging lightly.

"Don't." The mermaid's tone was less restrained. Firm.

Reflexively, Kuja laughed to himself. It was more of a titter, really... but no matter! "Shall I cast it again, then?"

Just like her, many mysteries of the Abyss intertwined with his DNA. Though, he was an Abyssal of a different make. A Ψ Abyssal. Much like others of his ilk, he possessed the faculty for what most of the world(s) populations had come to interpret as "magic." And such sorcery had its fair share of workarounds when it came to... hazards, such as herself. Or at least in theory.

With an eloquent wave of the hand, a shimmer of light manifested, scintillae forming all around the prodigal Mer before coating his body. Another barrier spell.

"Better?" Fetching as he made his conviction out to be, even so, he was met by silence. Silence and an utterly unmoved expression on Sal's part.

"There is room for error." She then answered. "I've seen it."

"Not of my aptitude."

"Not yet."

One counter met by another. Classic. He let out another light chuckle before humming to himself again.

Ah, if only she knew he simply wished to help! This was for more than his benefit. It truly was! To offer her the scarce safe haven to justly and freely be. Existing in this near-perpetual hiding of one's self for the sake of social standard and the safety of others grew tiresome, surely. In ways, he would know.

Motivated by the reminder, he now found himself particularly intent upon this pursuit today. His eyes narrowed, dignified, yet baleful in their determination. "I survived you once already..."

Once more, he then dared to close the distance between them, their questionable proximity resumed. Looming over her shoulder and her clothed tendrils, he peered into the mirror, regarding her likeness and empyrean beauty as she stared his own down with a... vehemency.

There was a chance they never would have met had he not stepped in. Perhaps she would have been consumed by the Ω that now swarmed and multiplied in the Abyss. Despite her concerns, his point was not lost on her.

Reminded once more of the matter, her gaze fell, the furrow of her brow growing more apparent. It was like a disease, spreading and taking hold of their world, now. What had disrupted that balance? Could it be fixed? Would they have to evacuate this entire planet one day, if not? What could she do right now?

"I speak not only of your kind, but you."

Doing her best to dismiss that particular branch of inner turmoil, she was brought back to the more immediate one. Her eyes returned to his reflection.

"I rescued you. Handled you. Cared for you."

Yet again, she contemplated him and his insistence as he spoke. The remains of the intensity of which she mulled over previous thoughts seemed to leave a stain, however...

It was in that moment that Kuja was reminded just how sharp, yet hypnotic her gaze was. There was starlight cradled within her eyes. He could swear by it. Little did she know, the silence which fell between them was due in part to those radiant irises stealing his words away.

"... Couldn't you trust me to do so again?" For but a moment, anyway. His voice fell to a softer note as he managed to recover. The smile which painted his lips was just as beguiling as it ever was. And the nebulous shades of anxiety she bestowed upon him at times such as these would be his secret to keep yet another day.

Whatever little studies and "science projects" he had stashed away certainly spoke of his experience, but it was not enough for her. She would always have her reservations. There was always a chance to be taken with these things. Which, it was a chance he was clearly willing to take time and time again, of course, but her...?

Talk stagnated yet again. Time inched forward at a slow...

"... If you experience any burning or numbness, no matter how little, stop."

Finally, What sounded uncannily like the beginnings of a warning label left her mouth. They still bore a rigid inflection, but...

"Regardless of your confidence. Regardless of how well informed you may be. Just stop and back away. I'll rebind it."

... She was ultimately granting him permission to proceed.

"Okay?"

Delightfully surprised she would actually indulge him for once, of course, he was more than willing to oblige!

"As you wish, mon étoile." The request was met by a rather deft reply.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. This venture would be undergone merely to see what could be ventured, Sal supposed. Who knew what there truly was to gain from letting a wealthy fanatic inspect you more closely... maybe it would be more than just a spectacle of vulnerability or an oddly erogenous experience. Maybe she'd learn something? You never know.

Drawing in a deep breath in attempts to help settle some of the disquietude, she observed him as he began to carefully unfurl her ribbon-bound locks...

For those curious about the hair stuff MerSal has going on, I actually scribbled out a bit of a concept to help me write it...

It's scribbly. Design could definitely be improved upon later, but for now, I figured that'd do well enough! 🎨 For those who may be wondering "can she manipulate those tentacle-y hair bits, even when they're all wrapped up?" Yes. She absolutely can. The metal bit at the end wasn't intended to be a weapon, but I do think it'd be pretty badass if it was sharp enough to be one, now! 🗡️

[mari-reads]

not to be dramatic but being a 24 yr old girl living through societal collapse is like totally unfair

[wordsofwilderness]

I have learned things about myself writing this next chapter of Spotlight. Outlining me? Cruelest bitch of the land, will giggle and twirl my hair at how the readers will feel. Writing me though?? Giant softie and will cry about the beloved characters hurting even the slightest bit

[fullbattleregalia]

I BEAT THE FIRST CHAPTER!!!

Hot damn - final boss only took me six tries!

This game is so gorgeous.

And this image of Monkey just hanging out and watching that monk burn down his monastery made me laugh because this is exactly how it happened in JttW. (For once, Monkey did not cause any of the wanton destruction - just sat back and let it happen.)

And now on to Chapter Two!

[madamechrissy]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Satoru Gojo Long Fics ˚୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

All of my Satoru Gojo fics over 20k

Time after Time- Finished- Wc: 103k- (Ao3) CEO Gojo x fem assistant reader, you're his lead assistant and you put in your two weeks notice, because your boss is a grade A ASS- so Satoru Gojo pulls out ALL the stops to keep you. Is he who you thought he was, or more? Smutty/fun/sweet - my first Gojo fic

Take Me Home Tonight - Finished-Wc: 136k- law professor Gojo/x law student (A03) you hook up with a sexy white haired man at a club after passing your bar, only to be in his class two months later!?!? How can you handle falling in love with your professor, and can you both keep this a secret? Very witty/lots of banter, law setting-smutty and sweet

Fractured Desires - Finished- explicit- wc 95k (angsty/ toxic/smutfest) Ao3 You're Suguru Geto's girlfriend, and he decides to 'share you'- which becomes a fkn MESS, when you find out that Satoru has wanted you all along, and Suguru isn't who you think he is. (Starts off as Sugu/reader- Extremely explicit-yandere asf, Evil suguru, psycho Gojo)

Silent Serenades - Finished- wc 152k - You are promised to marry the handsome Duke Gojo, you're the diamond of the season, after all. Only thing is, he HATES you, and has no intention of being faithful. Now you're stuck in a loveless marriage that eats you from within, but you won't let him break you down. Angsty arranged marriage AU, love triangle, toxic- set in the 1800s- cruel Duke Gojo- AO3

Healing Hearts -Dr. Gojo/intern-ongoing- 64k You're an exhausted intern, living with your three friends, Maki, Toge and Yuuta, and you just so happen to be Dr. Gojo's intern. - or as you soon call him 'Dr. Hojo' he seems perfect, but he's hiding a dark secret. The two of you couldn't be more different, is there any hope? Hospital setting - angsty Ao3

Losing Control Now- Mafia AU, notorious mobster Satoru Gojo becomes obsessed with you, the pretty bartender at his favorite club- but he finds you have your own secrets, threats to your life, and plans to save you at all costs. Lots of smut, Satoru being obsessed, mafia themes - explicit - ongoing-22.5k Ao3

Baby You're a Star - you meet Satoru Gojo at a wild Hollywood party, the two of you hit it off, but he is the top pornstar there is. You don't sleep around, soon Satoru can't get hard without thinking of you, and you get over curious, and join a livestream of the boy you like. Just how will that go for you both!?- explicit- ongoing 32k Ao3

Mini Series

Took You Like a Shot - You and Satoru Gojo (fratboy/fuckboi Gojo) have been rivals for all of college, right up until the last day of school, where you end up under him and... pregnant somehow!? shit. But have you two actually hated each other, or are you both lying to yourselves? Can a party boy raise a kid? WC- 35.5k - gonna be emotional and has a lot of humor/pregnant reader Ao3

Would you come with me? -You have been Satoru's best friend forever, and one day he asks you a really big favor- marry him. But have you been in love all along!? Three parts, fluffy and hella smutty, friends to lovers- Finished- three parts 22k Ao3

Just Friends!? - Nerdjo x popular reader- based on the movie 'Just Friends'- Satoru left his old life behind, leaving town, moving to the big city of LA- Everything about him is different, aside from those pretty blue eyes and the sweet grin, but is he still your sweet best friend deep down?- ongoing- 23k Ao3

Escort Gojo Mini Series- FINISHED! - You're a rich CEO who hires a handsome escort, with a five star rating, who has one rule- no kissing. But will he break this rule? cute/sweet and light angst. WC- 15k

୨୧˚ Satoru Gojo Oneshots ˚୨୧

୨୧˚ Satoru Gojo Drabbles/ Headcanons ˚୨୧

[neigepomme]

cw // suggestive. caleb likes to catch a glimpse of your panties.

after you and caleb started dating, he got comfortable real fast.

physical touch with him was always something you were used to, and that didn't change at all. always hugging, always holding hands, always laying your legs on his lap. it was the usual, really.

of course, kissing was new though — caleb was your first kiss back in high school, but the two of you never spoke of it again (although you're both grateful you were each other's firsts). you got used to that quickly, too, giving his lips a quick peck before he left for work or kissing him more deeply when he had to spend some time away from you in the deepspace tunnel.

what caleb got comfortable doing (and what you were still not used to), though, was lifting your damn skirt. his gravity evol was useful, don't get me wrong! he'd catch plates before they dropped to the floor, or he'd make the tv remote float towards you when you were too cozy beneath the covers to get up.

but that damn pilot made you reenact marilyn monroe's flying skirt scene every single time you walked past him. and every single time, he'd just offer you a smug smile and a comment along the lines of “cute apple pattern, pips", while dodging the hits you were determined to land with a boyish laugh.

unbeknownst to you, he was cataloging your panties in his mind, and he had his favorites — the purple lacy ones being at the top of the list (which he definitely planned on stealing later, but you didn't need to know that).

what can he say? turns out golden retriever caleb is nothing but a nasty dog.

(w)oof!

🍎 pomme's final notes — alexa put on sir mix-a-lot's nasty dog 🐕

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

I think the reader's response to this post is probably going to either be "That's incredibly minor" or "Holy shit YES I'M ALSO PROUD", depending on people's personal experiences with academia, but:

Today I am incredibly proud of one of my students.

In the interests of disguising identities, let's call them Ceri. Ceri is one of my third year undergrads (meaning their final year, for anyone unfamiliar with UK uni systems.) They transferred to us last year, and within two weeks I was giving them the contact info to get to Student Services and get themself screened for ADHD; they have some mental health struggles, but I clocked pretty quickly that they STRUGGLE with procrastination, and punctuality, and attending 9am lectures in particular. Naturally, as is the way of my people, it took them a further four months to remember to go to the screening. Lol. Lmao. Rofl, in fact.

But, they did it eventually! Their screening lit up like a Christmas tree at the ADHD section, and they got a free laptop and optional one week extensions and a study support worker named Claire. This has helped tremendously, and although mental health + until-then-unsupported ADHD meant their academic profile had slid sideways somewhat, with the new tools available and a couple of resits they passed the year and hit this year running.

Until, that is, the last fortnight.

Now, I take them for a Habitat Management module that has two assessments: an academic poster presentation before Christmas, and a site-specific management plan in May. Naturally this means we are at that happy point in the year for the poster presentations. I give out the briefs at the start of the year, so they've had them since October; I've also been periodically checking in with them all for weeks, to make sure they don't have any major burning questions. The poster presentation was to pick a species reintroduction project, pull the habitat feasibility study out of it, and then critique that study; Ceri chose to look at the hen harrier reintroductions proposed for the southern UK. All good.

Which brings us nicely to today! Ceri's presentation is scheduled for 2.30. At 11am-1pm, I am lecturing the first years on Biodiversity, while Ceri is learning about environmental impact assessment with a colleague I shall call Aeron. This means we are separately occupied during those same hours.

Nevertheless, Aeron messages me at about 12.

"I think Ceri needs to see you after your lecture," he writes. "They're panicking, I genuinely think they might cry. I'm worried. Are you free at 1?"

I say I am. At 1, I get lunch and sit in the common area; Ceri comes to see me. To my personal shame, imagine all of the following takes place while I stuff my face with potato.

Now: this part is going to be uncomfortably familiar to anyone who has ever tried higher education with ADHD, especially unmedicated. It certainly was for me. All I can say is, I never had the courage to take the step here that Ceri did.

"I have to confess," they said quietly, and Aeron was right, they were fighting back tears. "My mental health has been so, so bad for the last fortnight. I've left it way, way too late. I don't have anything to present."

"Nothing at all?" I asked.

"I've been researching," they said helplessly. "I found loads on the decline of the hen harrier. But it wasn't until last night that I finally found a habitat feasibility study to critique. Generally... I've been burying my head about it, and it just got later and later. I thought I should come in for Aeron's lecture, and I should at least tell you."

This part is a minor thing, right? But honestly, I remember being in the grip of that particular shame spiral. I never did manage to tell my lecturers to their faces. I just avoided. I honestly can't imagine having the courage it took them to come in and tell me this, rather than just staying home and avoiding me.

"I think..." they said hesitantly, "I know I can submit up to a week late, for a capped mark. I think I need to do that, and apply for extenuating circumstances. But then I'll have both Aeron's assignment and yours due at the same time."

Which meant they would crumble under the pressure and likely struggle to pass both; so me, being as noble and heroic as I unarguably am, stopped eating potato and said, "Let's make that plan B."

(It was good potato. I am a hero.)

So, we made plan A: I moved their timeslot to 4.30, giving them three and a half hours. The shining piece of luck in this whole thing was that this was the crunch time assignment - if it had been Aeron's, they'd have had to try and write a 3000 report in that time. But for me, all they had to write was an academic poster, and those things are light on words by design. We found them a Canva template, and then we quickly sketched out a recommended structure based on the brief: if it's habitat feasibility, look at food availability, nesting site availability, and mortality risks in the target release site. Bullet point each. Bullet point how well the study assessed each. Write a quick intro and conclusion. Take notes as you go, and present the poster itself at 4.30.

"You think I should try?" they asked doubtfully, looking like I'd just asked them to go mano-a-mano with a feral badger.

"If you run out of time, so be it," I said. "But your brain is trying to protect you from a non-existent tiger. That's why you've procrastinated - it's been horrible, and you've been shame spiralling, and your brain is trying to shield you from the negative experience; but it's the wrong type of help for this situation! So while you're sitting there working on it, hating life, every time your brain goes 'This is hopeless, I can't do it', you think right back 'Yes I can, it just sucks.' And you carry on. Good?"

"Good," they said. "I'm going to mainline coffee and hole up in the library. Enjoy your potato."

And then, of course, I had to go and watch the other students' presentations, so that was the end of me being any help at all. I spent all afternoon wondering if they were going to manage it, or if I would be getting a message at 4.25 telling me they'd failed, and would have to submit late and hope for an EC.

And Tumblrs

Tumblrs

Let me FUCKING tell you

They turned up at 4.15, fifteen minutes early, wearing a mask of grim, harrowed determination and fuelled by spite and coffee, and they pulled up that poster and started presenting and yes, okay, I'll admit their actual delivery was dramatically unpolished and yes, they forgot to include the taxanomic name for the hen harrier on the poster and yes, fine, I admit that there were more than a few awkward moments where they lost their place in their hastily scribbled notebook but LET ME FUCKING TELL YOU -

They smashed it. It was well-critiqued, it had a map, it had full citations, it had a section on the hen harrier's specific ecology and role in the ecosystem, it had notes on their specific conservation measures. They described case studies they'd read about elsewhere. They answered the questions we threw at them with competence and depth. There was analysis. All that background research they'd done came right to the fore. They were even within the time limit by 15 seconds.

You would never have known they'd produced it in three hours, from a quivering and terrified mess fighting the bodily urge to dehydrate via tear ducts. After they left, the second marker and I looked at each other and went "So that was a 2:1, right?"

I caught up with Aeron downstairs and he was beaming. Apparently Ceri had seen him on their way out, and had gone over to talk to him. Aeron said the difference between the Ceri of this morning and the Ceri of then was like two different people; in four hours, they'd gone from their voice literally breaking as they admitted the problem, ashamed and broken, to being relaxed and happy and smiling.

"I reckon I've passed," they apparently told Aeron, pleased. "Maybe even a 2:2. There's things I wish I'd had the time to do better, but I'll be happy if I passed."

They won't know until late January what they got, because we're not allowed to release marks until 20 term days after hand-in, and the Christmas holidays are about to hit. But I'm really hoping I can be there when they're released.

But mostly, I'm just... insanely proud of them. I cannot tell you how happy I am. And I know, I know, obviously this is not a practice I would want to see them do regularly, or indeed ever again, and it only worked because they were fucking lucky with the assignment format, but like... when life is just punching you in the face, and you hit a breaking point... isn't it nice? That just this once, you pull off a miracle, and it's fixed? The disaster you thought was about to ruin you is gone? To get that relief?

Anyway. Super super proud today.

[capricornlevi]

nanami x reader - w.c 3k, marraige of convenience, mentions of societal pressure but everything is consensual!, nsfw, mdni!

without even meeting him, you agreed to marry nanami kento without any expectations of future love, romantic or otherwise.

the pairing is advantageous for the both of you; you get access to the impressive nanami family fortune that has grown substantially now that kento is managing it, while he gets to enjoy a close association with your prestigious family and the subsequent educational opportunities that your children will benefit from. it's sensible and by far the best option you'd been presented with.

you've exchanged letters with him, polite and concise. you can read between the lines and see that he shares a disillusioned view of jujutsu society, but is more than willing to step up for the good of his family.

you weren't coerced by anyone. far from it -- your mother and father had sat you down and asked if you were sure, that they would understand if you wanted to take more time or to choose a different path for yourself altogether.

but you know the rest of society would not be so kind or understanding. marriage between two sorcerers, as antiquated as it seems, is how you survive amongst all of these competitive, power-hungry families.

from what you've read and heard about him, nanami will provide stability. he's progressive in his thinking, and so wont expect anything from you that he wouldn't be willing to do as well. you've learned that he's a teacher at tokyo tech, and has received glowing reviews; he'll be a good father.

and so on this misty thursday morning, you lay eyes on your fiancé for the first time as he slips a ring on your finger and promises to stay by your side forever.

the ceremony is as bare-bones as your reputation will allow. the guest list doesn't hit the triple digits, a huge departure from society norms, but representatives from the major houses sit in floral-clad wooden chairs to watch you repeat the words that the officiant speaks in your direction.

nanami takes your hands in his. they're warm, which is nice. this dress isn't designed for November weather, but it's an heirloom -- and truthfully, you're glad to be wearing it. you'd never given much thought to a wedding, but it makes your mother and grandmother very happy.

you'd be lying if you said you weren't relieved to discover how handsome nanami is. you were previously shown a few polaroids of him -- staff pictures, mostly, but some with the rest of his family -- and had known he wasn't bad-looking, but the pictures weren't clear enough to give you a proper understanding of his looks.

his blond hair is styled neatly, not a hair out of place. he has nice features, strong jawline and cheekbones, and soft eyes, a good combination. you know his gaze can be piercing when he wants it to be, but now, he looks at you gently.

you know you made the right decision.

more vows, a kiss, and you're married.

___

the reception goes mercifully smoothly. the mix of guests -- powerful sorcerer family heads, rich businesspeople, and just a few of your personal friends -- didn't appear to gel too well on paper, but they mostly stick to their own factions. you greet them all until your vocal cords grow tired.

a meal is served on plates so ornate it makes you feel awkward eating off them. you nurse a glass of wine for most of the evening and nanami does the same, politely waving off the servers who approach to refill his glass.

a promising sign that he doesn't feel the need to drown his sorrows. this is a marriage of convenience, yes, but you'd like to be able to get along reasonably well with your spouse.

and, to his credit, he's been making light conversation with you all evening. he doesn't dip into deep or uncomfortable topics like your marriage or future plans, figuring that's best saved for later, but he asks you questions about yourself. by the end of the evening, you feel safe enough to allude to your desire for a future somewhat outside society's norms -- "I've always wanted to travel, honestly. maybe ... spend a few years abroad" -- and, to your pleasant surprise, he doesn't rebuff them. if anything, he seems somewhat pleased.

you have another glass of wine and before you know it, it's the early hours of the morning. you're nowhere near tipsy but feel ready for bed, ready to wipe off this makeup and slip into something more comfortable; thankfully, guests have started to slip out one by one, with only immediate family remaining.

your unpleasant and friendless older cousin makes a joke about you needing to say your goodbyes to 'go please your husband', and nanami's face sours for the first time all evening. your cousin notices and sheepishly takes a drink, mumbling something about it being his time to leave too.

with some final hugs to your respective families, it's time to leave with ...

... with your husband.

in his last letter before the wedding, nanami agreed that your city-centre apartment would be the best place to live in the first few weeks of your marriage, until you find somewhere more permanent that suits you both, and so that's where you go.

you show him around each room, including some storage space where his luggage had been delivered this morning. interspersed with some more small talk, you explain that although it's small, it's well placed for both of you to get to work. he smiles and nods, thanking you with a warmth that doesn't feel forced.

you offer him some tea or whiskey; he says he's fine.

you yawn. he loosens his tie, clearly exhausted himself.

the last room you show him is your bedroom, and it becomes harder and harder not to address the elephant in the room. there's very clearly no second bed, no room for him to stay that wouldn't necessitate a lot of closeness between the two of you.

the silence hangs heavy and loaded, both of you waiting for the other to speak.

well. this is one issue you hadn't covered before the ceremony.

you have no issue with a sexual relationship -- in fact, you're somewhat looking forward to it, having spent the evening admiring the way nanami's shirt hugs his strong arms and chest. but you're not sure if tonight, the first night you've ever met, is the best night to start.

sure, the concept of the wedding night speaks for itself, but it's not as black-and-white in your situation. he might want to spend some time settling in, first. he might not even be that interested in you.

"want me to take the couch?" he asks quietly, with no hint of resentment or offence in his voice. he makes the offer with a sincerity you haven't heard from a man in a long time.

you don't break your silence, but not because you're uncomfortable or anything of the sort -- you're just assessing your options.

"there's nothing i expect from you, just so you know," he continues, and you turn your head to face him, seeing his eyes scan your face for any sign of unease. "the last thing i want is for you to do ... this ... out of obligation or pressure. we have a lifetime to get to know each other, to reach that point -- i want you to be comfortable around me."

your upbringing has made you a sceptic, a pessimist at times, but for some reason, you believe him. maybe it's the look in his eyes, or the fact that he's taken your hand in his own, interlocking your fingers, but there's something about him that sets him aside from normal sorcerers.

he seems real. he seems as though, powers and fortunes and family names aside, he has some substance about him.

"do you want to?" you ask then, voice almost inaudible quiet from a day spent conversing with guests at your wedding.

he doesn't hear you, so he dips his head in your direction; you repeat yourself and wait, hoping you hadn't pressed the issue.

his composure doesn't crack, but something flashes in his eyes as he processes your question. he has such control over the movements of his features, over every expression in his body, except for his eyes, you think.

maybe you just happen to be good at reading him.

he mulls it over for a second, his grip on your hand never slacking.

"i want to," he finally admits. "i've wanted to for a while, truthfully. I've spent a lot of late nights picturing how it would feel to be inside you, to hear what my name sounds like when you say it. but i only want that if you want it too."

you smile without meaning to. "you imagined that from just reading a few letters?"

"yes, and it's a testament to my trust in my new wife that I'm telling you that," he replies, still polite but tinged with amusement.

it feels strange standing at your bedroom doorway, hand in hand with this almost-stranger, imagining what it would be like to indulge in these thoughts you've both been having, spending your first night together tangled up in the sheets and allowing some of the indulgence you've long denied yourself.

duty gets tiring. for a long time, you've been unsure what it feels like to genuinely want something.

now, you're pretty sure it feels something like this. it's organic and unforced, a natural desire that sends heat curling in the pit of your stomach.

wordlessly, you guide nanami into your room, closing the door behind you. there's a hint of a smile on his lips as you ask him for help to untie your wedding dress, the intricate pattern of buttons trailing up your spine proving too technical for your own hands. he's methodical in his work, careful to not damage the delicate clasps.

soon your dress is loose around your hips, your chest covered by the thin slip you wore underneath. you set the garment carefully aside before returning the favour and starting to undo nanami's shirt, avoiding eye contact as your hands expose more and more of his bare chest.

you want to do this, you know that for sure, but that doesn't mean you won't feel a bit of awkwardness at the start. you're not well practiced, having had too busy a life for romantic relationships until now. you hope that instinct will kick in sooner than later, but you've no doubt nanami will help you along the way.

when you finally build up the nerve to glance up at him as he shrugs off the shirt, he's looking at you as though you're the only person he ever wants touching him.

you hear the soft clink of metal and realise he's undoing his belt.

"are you sure?" he asks one more time.

that one question, and the earnestness with which he speaks, erases the last shred of doubt you had. you place your trust in him for the second time today.

you nod and reach across to his belt in the same breath, helping him pull it free from the loops to be tossed by the armchair near your desk.

you move as though controlled by something other than yourself, the decisions coming so naturally it feels as though you've been imagining it for weeks as well.

and maybe you have, you think to yourself, as you confidently guide him back slowly until he's sitting down on the plush armchair, his suit pants still on as you crawl onto his lap, pressing your chest against his. the thin fabric of your slip means you can feel the heat of his body against your skin, nipples hardening as they graze against his muscles.

you've just about balanced yourself, carefully perched on his lap when you feel his hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss that has you grinding against his thighs before you can even catch your breath.

you've never been kissed like this. the few kisses you've had before have been with partners who see you as a means to an end, be it for your family name, your reputation, or just for sex. you've never been kissed by someone who seems to get more from your pleasure than from his own.

you now know he meant it when he said he's been picturing this.

you kiss him for as long as you can, and you're not sure if it's for seconds, minutes, hours. you kiss him until there's a heat burning between your thighs you can no longer stand, that you need to have satiated by the visible, prominent bulge in the front of his suit pants.

when you finally break away, lips numb and kiss-slick, nanami's hair is touselled - you don't remember running your hands through them, but you must have at some point - and he reaches up to run his fingers under the straps of your slip, asking with his eyes if he can guide them off your shoulders.

you nod, and your chest is exposed to the cool night air for a split second before nanami's mouth is on one of your nipples, tongue circling the sensitive skin and making you cry out.

one of the words you moan must be his name, because you feel him smile as he turns his attention towards the other nipple, hands now at the small of your back to keep you close to him.

you can't take it much longer. you need to be touched so badly, you didn't even think you were capable of wanting it this much -- and you only want him to do it, now and maybe forever.

maybe he can read your mind or maybe you babbled out the request, but nanami finally takes pity on you, giving your nipple one final lick before resting his shoulders back against the cushion of the armrest and sliding his hands up your thighs, hooking your underwear with his fingers -- you lift your hips up to let him slip them off.

his composure slips further when he finally touches you between your legs, feeling how wet you've gotten for him, seeing how you react when he slips his index finger inside.

your head falls back and you hold a breath, focusing all of your attention on the sensation of him inside you, on the way he curls the digit ever-so-slightly before pulling it out and fucking you with two this time, almost -- almost -- tipping you over the edge.

"such a pretty wife," he mumbles almost under his breath, voice and gaze reverent as he watches you rock yourself against his hand. "my beautiful, perfect wife, aren't you?"

you want to answer him but can't, lungs feeling near-empty as you fumble with the buttons of his pants.

"i will never be able to think of anything else but you, i think," he muses, half-smiling. "you in my lap ... you making those pretty little noises ... i might be a ruined man, you know. and I'm glad of it."

he only stops speaking when you finally get your hand on his clothed cock, his breath catching in his throat as you trace it with your fingers.

you want tonight, the first of many times together, to start with you cumming on your husband's cock.

nanami just watches as you finally pull him out of his underwear, his length thick and hard in your hand as you give it a few messy strokes. it's all the both of you can manage before you need to have it inside you -- you shift your hips to sit on it, nanami's eyes fixed on the site of the head slipping inside.

it's a stretch, as you expected, but one you've been craving since you closed the bedroom door. you take him inch by inch, lowering yourself down as his breath quickens, clearly battling the urge to thrust up inside you.

but he's careful with you, and doesn't want to hurt you. his wife.

you lift yourself up too much and his cock slips out, slapping aginst his stomach and you nearly cry at the sudden emptiness, eager and clumsy as you guide him back inside you.

he kisses you when you sink down next, tongue massaging your own until the feeling of almost-too-full turns to a perfect, satisfying heat in your core.

eventually you're ready to quicken the pace, bouncing on his cock before long, your mind working too fast for you to keep up as you see nanami's cheekbones flush pink, his pupils dark as you ride him until your thighs ache.

you power through the sensation, nanami helping you along by meeting your hips with his, his thumb tracing uneven circles on your puffy clit. he calls you perfect and other beautiful words; you don't say anything besides more, more and, soon after, nearly there, nearly there, please, please, I'm so close --

your entire body lights up with the most wonderful sensation, hitting you like a wave and sweeping you away in its warm glow, with nanami's hands now on your hips, guiding your movements in exactly the way you need it -- not too hard, not too slow, not too fast.

you're still pulsing around him when you feel his body stiffen, his strong thighs tensing as he groans through gritted teeth. he pulls you in for a crushing kiss as he finishes, filling you up and thrusting as deep as he can until oversensitivity takes over.

the afterglow has you a contented and exhausted mess, muscles aching but satisfied in a way you'll spend forever seeking.

reluctantly, you slip off his cock to retake your place on his lap, marvelling at how undone you both have become, a far cry from your perfect wedding appearance.

you look perfect to him, though, you know as much from the kiss he presses to your sweaty forehead and the way his arm wraps around your shoulders.

"we didn't even make it to the bed," you observe, eyebrows raising as you finally return to your own body. "i ... wasn't expecting that."

"we have a lifetime to spend in bed," he replies, a smile in his voice.

and once again, for reasons you still don't understand, you believe him.

[fullbattleregalia]

I have a Sun Wukong tea pet. He keeps me company as I slowly read through Journey to the West (I’m on volume 2, and it’s all Overly Sarcastic Productions’ fault for getting me hooked), and he sits in front of the tv the rest of the time. Well, I started playing Black Myth: Wukong this week, and this wasn’t planned but-

That loading icon couldn’t have been more perfectly placed if I’d tried.