#it was a pretty interesting assignment though

[pangaeaseas]

was rereading the Tottenham court road scene from DH and a couple things stuck out to me: the Death Eaters being able to blend into Muggle society ok (which makes me think there was probably some kind of task force where death eaters who could blend were assigned to missions where they'd have to. and that there were probably more muggle-passing death eaters than we might assume--more Snapes than Luciuses potentially. at least dolohov and thorfinn Rowle are at least able to briefly pretend to be muggles.)

and also the trio dynamics.

Hermione was the one who initially took control by packing and planning and disapparating them. Ron is the one who immediately wants to connect with his family and the broader WW (foreshadowing obvs but also he's the one with the most ties to society and the one who has yet to let go of his family while Harry never had a family and Hermione has ruthlessly cut hers off). But when the Death Eaters attack Harry is the one who takes the lead, not Hermione. She and Ron are unprepared whereas Harry immediately realizes something is off because he has good instincts, and he's the only one who's really useful in the fight--Hermione lands a spell but it's in the throes of panic. Ron gets immediately incapacitated and Hermione panics and ends up hurting Ron by accident. And then in the aftermath Hermione's still panicking and dismisses ron's actually useful point about identifying the death eaters. while Harry pretty calmly takes control and comes up with a human solution to what to do with them (obliviating them). Ron suggests killing them, but is clearly relieved when Harry comes up with the idea of obliviating them instead (which makes me think that a lot of the Ruthless!Ron portrayals are missing the mark! he doesn't WANT to kill and is happy to do something else if he can avoid it!). and Hermione shudders at the thought of killing them but handles obliviating them just fine--it actually calms her down when she'd been freaking out. And then Harry is the one who continues to lead the group by deciding to go to Grimmauld in the face of the others' objections, even though they suspect there may be a Trace on Harry which caused the death eaters to summon them. just interesting to think about in terms of trio characterization and dynamics!

[falmerbrook]

Theories for What Darien is

Some folks seem content with "vessel of Meridia" as an answer to "what's Darien's deal" but I'm not, and I think at some point we'll get more answers, so here's a collection of some theories+clues I've thought of or seen others suggest in the meantime.

A Demiprince

A Demiprince is "the Daedric offspring of a Daedric Prince or Daedra Lord and a lesser entity such as a mortal". They aren't really a thing this series puts a lot of focus on (and I like that, personally. We have enough focus on daedra already) but having a focus on a major character being one could be a good opportunity to flesh the concept out perhaps. From what we do know, though, the relationship between Prince and Demiprince seems less like that of a literal parent and child and more like the Prince provides some part of themselves or their power/essence/realm to create a new being with part of the essence of a lesser being. When that other entity is a mortal, I suppose that would just be the other parent. Basically under this theory Darien's father (as a reminder, a character we have met and interacted with in-game) was probably a Meridia cultist, or otherwise connected with her and for whatever reason agreed to make and raise Darien. He probably grew up from a child if this is the case.

Meridia wasn't a part of the Coldharbour Compact, but maybe for whatever reason she felt she needed a mortal with loyalty and a connection to her, as well as a sample of her power to do her bidding on Nirn, and thought a Demiprince would be the best way to go about it? Regardless of motivation, I think it would set up a very interesting relationship or dynamic between Darien and Meridia if they ever return if it turns out she's basically his mom.

Evidence:

Darien mentions that he never met his mother when you talk to him on Summerset. It seems like something pretty specific to bring up unless it had some sort of relevance (although the rest of this dialogue is going to be more relevant to later theories)

He also seems to be under the impression that he has always had whatever power/abilities he has related to Meridia in him his whole life (now, how long that life is depends on the theory).

(me too, Darien)

When he mentions that he had dreamed of the assault on Coldharbour and the light of Meridia before, he says that he's been having these dreams since he was young, implying that 1) he had a childhood (that's relevant I swear) and 2) his connection to Meridia and purpose as her Champion has been present since he was young. In his journal you can find in Camlorn, however, he says he's been having dreams predicting the Planemeld "since winter", implying they are a more recent thing. Perhaps his dreams have just gotten more specific or frequent as he got older?

---

Something of otherwise daedric origin that Meridia plops on Nirn when she needs something done

Basically, my thought with this one is that "Darien" has been Meridia's vessel (whatever that entails) for a long time, that she sends down to Nirn/Mundus whenever she wants to more covertly get something taken care of. For an example, in the context of the Planemeld, a certain amount of time before it started (I'm thinking, say, months) he appeared in Camlorn as a full adult, with him and the people around him having false memories of his past. Perhaps his "dad" is in on it, or perhaps he's just a random guy who has now been assigned an adult son by a god. Once he had fulfilled the task she set out for him, in this case helping to thwart Molag Bal, she would bring him back into the Colored Room for the next time she needed him (in this case, the conflict with the Dark Triad). In this case, he isn't a mortal, he just appears as one and is under the impression he is one. Usually, his memory is reset when he returns to the Colored Rooms, but, according to Meridia something changed in his interactions with the Vestige...

This one certainly has it's own holes in how it actually works, but it's a start.

Evidence:

The biggest evidence for this theory comes from the player's conversation with Meridia during the Summerset main quest.

She claims that he only believes himself to be Darien, and that he is really something else. (also she calls him "it") As well, she also says she sends him to Mundus to execute her will, implying this is not only his purpose, but also that she's done this before.

Additionally, she directly says that something about her intended purpose for him has been altered since he met you (and she specifically cites the Vestige as the problem). Perhaps he was meant to forget about his bonds and life from before he was returned to the Colored Rooms, but something about this time made it so he didn't and now he's invested in that past life.

The way he keeps returning to the Colored Rooms when he "dies" (his first time having not been within the protective shield Meridia set up, the second time being when he sacrificed himself to restore Dawnbreaker) is reminiscent of the way daedra are returned and reformed in their home realms when they are killed elsewhere. Daedra aren't actually "killed" when they die, they are instead just returned to the plane of Oblivion they originate from. Perhaps that is what's going on with him.

(source)

Finally, I mentioned earlier that in his journal, he claims he's only been having his dreams of the Planemeld and Meridia for probably a few months at most. Perhaps that's how long he's actually been on Nirn?

We saw earlier that he also mentions that his childhood was a blur. Maybe that's because he didn't actually have one.

---

A(nother) Vestige™

(or just generally, originally a normal Breton dude, turned into something daedric)

So, from my understanding, a vestige (lowercase v) is basically the daedric version of a soul. Daedra do not have souls in the way mortals do. Instead they have vestiges that are basically the essence of a daedra that its form/body is created around. This is a bit different than what The Vestige (uppercase V) is. When mortal souls are sacrificed to Molag Bal, the soul is replaced by a vestige in Coldharbour, turning the mortal into a Soul Shriven who is compelled/forced to serve as a slave in Coldharbour for eternity since they cannot die permanently (similar to daedra). The bodies of Soul Shriven are weak and decay over time, but rarely, such as with The Vestige, some other Aunic (which I think means relating to Mundus) aspect allows them to maintain their former body, while still have the ability to reform after death like a daedra. (all of this is taken from this book, so if I got it wrong let it know)

With that out of the way, this theory is basically that Darien is like The Vestige, but for Meridia instead of Molag Bal. Alternatively (and more simply) it could be that he was originally born a normal mortal, but at some point had some part of Meridia's power/essence imbued in him to become what he is now (the Ambitions had this sorta thing going on for another example of it).

There isn't really any evidence for this theory that makes it more likely than the others. As a matter of fact I think it's weaker than the previous two. However, it would be thematically interesting to have him parallel with The Vestige, and it would make this line A+ foreshadowing:

---

Other random tidbits I found interesting but don't really apply to any one theory

In his final words to the Vestige in the books he leaves us after the Summerset main quest, he rather definitively says that Meridia is responsible for bringing him into existence. So at the very least she has something to do with his existence. This could apply to any of the theories I've already put forward, but mostly the first two.

His powers or whatever essence of Meridia that he has is implied to be finite. He initially seemed to think that he was transferring the rest of what he had into Dawnbreaker when he sacrificed himself at the end of Summerset, but in his final words it seems more like it took away a part of it, and each time he does something like that or "dies" he loses a bit (and that when he loses all of it he will actually die :( )

Nocturnal seems to recognize him as "Meridia's vessel". This is right after he mentions using Dawnbreaker so the Meridia connection is obvious, but the same use of the word "vessel" makes this seem like a thing the other Princes understand or already know about unquestioningly. Maybe it's a Daedric Prince thing, maybe it indicates Meridia has had this "vessel" in whatever form for awhile.

His dad is definitely a guy that exists given Lady Arabelle mentions having worked with him at some point at least 16 years prior to the events of the game. Make of that what you will for however he fits into all this.

Not really related to what his deal is at all, but still a interesting part I forgot about: Darien and Sotha Sil have had a conversation. I very much wish I was a fly on the wall during that. Maybe Sil could recognize more about what was going on with Darien than we could.

[bahngarang]

chapter 7.0 ☆ the lock and key theory

ss: 3

wc: 1,763

cw: swearing, food mentions, jokes about disability (from a disabled writer)

a/n: seeing my work while I'm innocently scrolling through the skz x reader tag is WILD y'all

yn's office hours were... interesting. during their first year as a part-time professor, it had initially been pretty boring. no one really came to their office. the students preferred to go to their more serious professor, as it were – and dr jang was definitely more serious and more experienced. she had more of a reputation. which was fine, yn was perfectly happy to lesson plan and do the more computer heavy side of their research in that time. they enjoyed working alone. no distractions.

the second year? not so quiet.

it had started small. justin being the main instigator. he was always one of the more outgoing ones. he came in once or twice a week, bothering them with questions about the material. things he probably could have figured out on his own, but it was kind of nice. 

now, yn had justin, and oftentimes a few of his friends, hanging out with them during office hours. doing homework, asking about assignments and essays and sometimes just yapping. and, strangely... yn liked it. sure, sometimes they had to use urban dictionary to decipher the young people language, and deal with the occasional millennial/old person joke, but it was pretty fun.

today was one of the more yappy days, clearly. justin did have his laptop out, precariously placed on his legs, but he was completely ignoring it except to make sure it didn't drop to the floor. instead, he was rambling on about how painstaking sewing beaded fabric was, and stitching and so on. don't get them wrong, yn was absolutely listening, but they were also having something close to a religious experience with today's cheesecake that dr jang had brought up from the cafeteria for them.

"–and i've already managed to break two needles on that stupid stuff, even though I spent ages unpicking the beads by hand, like, at this point, is it even worth it?"

"mmh," yn hummed sympathetically, taking another bite of cheesecake, chewing slowly. shifting on their desk chair, they crossed their right leg over their left to get more comfortable. "well, considering how much you've been talking about this for the last couple of months, I don't think you should give up now just because you're frustrated over some fabric."

justin huffed. "yeah, but it's annoying, and-" he stopped, and yn looked up at him from their lesson plan after a few moments of silence.

"what?"

"nothing, it's just..." he squinted at their knee. "has that tattoo on your knee changed? did you get a cover-up or something?"

"it's not a tattoo, it's my soul mark," yn said, before looking down at their knee in confusion. they were less averse to showing it now that it was pretty much unreadable. or... it was.

"what the fuck..." yn muttered to themselves. it wasn't completely as it was before all the knee surgeries, but it was definitely... closer than it used to be. and even through their sheer tights, they could read a few initials – b.c., s.c., and y.j.. well. shit.

"do soul marks... usually change?" justin murmured.

yn's area of expertise was not soul marks in any capacity, but it couldn't be a coincidence that the only three of their soulmates that they'd seen – and touched – were the ones who's initials they could read now. one? sure. two? weird, but okay. but three? yeah, something was definitely going on. yn hadn't heard of soul marks changing after interactions with soulmates, but then again, they also didn't know anyone else who'd had their marks fucked up, especially to the extent of their one. "uhm... not that I know of..."

"that's... weird."

"... yup."

"does it feel any different?"

"i would have noticed earlier if it did," yn replied.

"do you know why it's doing that?" justin asked curiously, leaning further over yn's desk to look closer at it.

"i... have an idea," yn said to their chagrin.

"cryptic."

"you're my student, you don't need to know about my love life," yn said. "i'm sure you have much more pressing matters to worry about. like... studying..."

"boo. that's boring," justin said, heaving a sigh and draping himself over the back of his chair.

"i feel i should remind you that you have a test next week," yn said flatly. "and while studying may be boring, it does help your results." yn left out that they had not been the most avid studier during their university years. do as i say and not as i do, right? justin didn't have to know.

not that he listened, continuing his impassioned rant about beaded fabric and other things, while yn silently had a mini crisis over the new development in the soulmate department.

"hi," yn mumbled, frowning down at the pan in front of them. they were... attempting to cook dinner, their phone set up against the back wall of their kitchen counter. but it was one of those days when they had to drag a chair into the room so they didn't have to stand up, so it wasn't a particularly nutritious meal. still better than not eating, though.

"hey." the audio from minji's end was... crackly. the connection in the gym she went to was shitty, to say the least. and she'd chosen to accept the video call while on the treadmill, which was a choice, for sure.

chika giggled quietly, and the half-drunk margherita that she held told yn she was at least a little tipsy. her location was unclear, but it was clear she'd found some room away from the main party where she wouldn't be disturbed for a while. "guess who I'm with," she hummed out in a sing-song voice, before turning the camera to bring her companion into frame.

yn, at this point, wasn't surprised at who it was. it was, in their mind, only logical – chika was at a versace event, so was hyunjin, and fate seemed to have it out for them recently, so why wouldn't it be him?

"we're hiding," chika whispered. "it's very loud. and there are too many people. i am quite overstimulated."

"hello," hyunjin said shyly, giving a small wave to the camera.

yn, for all the repressing of their feelings, still couldn't deny how cute he was. it was just one of those things. they suspected it had a little to do with the fact that he was their soulmate... but it was also just one of those things.

"so, what was the stuff in the group chat about your soul mark changing?" chika asked, a shit-eating grin spreading across her face, as if one of my soulmates wasn't unfortunately right beside her.

"shut the fuck- oh, my god, get your furry ass off my counter!" yn complained, getting up off their chair to grab bingus, who was making his daily escapade into the kitchen cabinets. honestly, they wouldn't really have a problem if it was the ones at ground level, but trying to haul the cat's fluffy body out of the top shelf of the higher cupboards every day was just... it took far too much effort. they sighed, walking back into frame, holding bingus like the little baby he was, slumping back down into their chair, breathing a little heavy. "he's such a pest."

"just grabbing your cat has you breathing like that? damn..." minji said with a slight laugh, the background noises of her running slowing down as she lowered the speed of the treadmill.

"yeah, well, health is wealth and I am dirt poor, if you catch my drift," yn said, scratching bingus behind the ears and kissing his little forehead.

hyunjin gasped from the other side of the camera, his eyes going wide. "you have a cat?"

yn chuckled, picking up their phone to hold the camera closer to their kitty. "he's called bingus. i woke up to him sitting on my face this morning."

hyunjin muttered something that the microphone didn't manage to pick up, but evidently chika found it absolutely hilarious in her drunken state. "he's so cute..."

bingus meowed gently at the camera, blinking his wide eyes innocently like he wasn't just trying to use yn's ramen stash as a cat bed, instead of literally any other surface in their apartment. he was a strange one. although, maybe that was just cats in general.

"that he may be, but he also made five escape attempts in the past hour and was sulking until about ten minutes ago because I wouldn't let him risk his life in seoul traffic," yn replied in exasperation.

minji sighed sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "you clearly don't love him then."

"yes, i hate my cat and want him to live an unfulfilling life. he reminds me of that often. maybe i shouldn't have trained him to come with me on my bike. i've given you a taste for danger, hm?" yn smiled down at bingus, kissing his cheek.

"you have a bike?" hyunjin asked.

"yeah," yn confirmed. it was pink, and had hello kitty detailing – what more could you want?

"they're objectively less safe, you know that, right?" minji said. it was a conversation they'd had many times, but it always ended the same.

"i never said it made sense," yn protested. "but, unfortunately, i don't have the luxury of being able to walk everywhere, i'm scared of cars, and me and public transport don't mix well because it's usually too busy to sit down, so... this is my solution."

"i think we should go back," chika said, finishing the conversation abruptly. "i think donatella has some attachment issues," she whispered, not that it was any quieter.

yn chuckled. "alright. see you in a few days."

minji's pout was practically radiating through the screen as she said her goodbyes, to no surprise. it wasn't just donatella versace who had attachment issues.

and so, yn was left alone with their thoughts again while they ate their noodles – and simultaneously tried to stop bingus eating them as well. hyunjin was... nice to talk with. not that they expected otherwise, but... a part of them wished he wasn't. it would have made it easier to reconcile staying away for so long.

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[nanasheep]

So I'm a graduate student studying paleontology. This past semester, I had to write a term paper on a controversy in the field (I chose Cambrian bryozoans) and then have ChatGPT try and recreate my paper with references. What I found was that ChatGPT could only provide surface level information and had no idea why Cambrian bryozoans are controversial (if you're wondering, it's because bryozoans are thought to have first appeared in the fossil record after the Cambrian, so any Cambrian age "bryozoan" fossils are heavily scrutinized). ChatGPT could explain what a bryozoan was and what rock formations give us a lot of information about that time period, but nothing in depth. It wrote with a tone more appropriate for a pop science article, but too conversational for an academic paper. A lot of the text was also repetitive when asked to describe different aspects of the issue. Most worryingly, the reference list looks convincing but contains inaccurate citations along with correct ones. For example, it correctly cited a source I used when writing my paper, but got the authors and year wrong on another. Some citations were completely made up. From a glance, it looks ok, but if a professor tried to google those sources, it would be obvious.

I'd suggest not using AI for papers, or limiting use only to rewording sentences. My advisor doesn't mind if I use ChatGPT as long as I've done all the research myself and use it just to fill out more basic parts of the paper. I still avoid it though.

An important message to college students: Why you shouldn't use ChatGPT or other "AI" to write papers.

Here's the thing: Unlike plagiarism, where I can always find the exact source a student used, it's difficult to impossible to prove that a student used ChatGPT to write their paper. Which means I have to grade it as though the student wrote it.

So if your professor can't prove it, why shouldn't you use it?

Well, first off, it doesn't write good papers. Grading them as if the student did write it themself, so far I've given GPT-enhanced papers two Ds and an F.

If you're unlucky enough to get a professor like me, they've designed their assignments to be hard to plagiarize, which means they'll also be hard to get "AI" to write well. To get a good paper out of ChatGPT for my class, you'd have to write a prompt that's so long, with so many specifics, that you might as well just write the paper yourself.

ChatGPT absolutely loves to make broad, vague statements about, for example, what topics a book covers. Sadly for my students, I ask for specific examples from the book, and it's not so good at that. Nor is it good at explaining exactly why that example is connected to a concept from class. To get a good paper out of it, you'd have to have already identified the concepts you want to discuss and the relevant examples, and quite honestly if you can do that it'll be easier to write your own paper than to coax ChatGPT to write a decent paper.

The second reason you shouldn't do it?

IT WILL PUT YOUR PROFESSOR IN A REALLY FUCKING BAD MOOD. WHEN I'M IN A BAD MOOD I AM NOT GOING TO BE GENEROUS WITH MY GRADING.

I can't prove it's written by ChatGPT, but I can tell. It does not write like a college freshman. It writes like a professional copywriter churning out articles for a content farm. And much like a large language model, the more papers written by it I see, the better I get at identifying it, because it turns out there are certain phrases it really, really likes using.

Once I think you're using ChatGPT I will be extremely annoyed while I grade your paper. I will grade it as if you wrote it, but I will not grade it generously. I will not give you the benefit of the doubt if I'm not sure whether you understood a concept or not. I will not squint and try to understand how you thought two things are connected that I do not think are connected.

Moreover, I will continue to not feel generous when calculating your final grade for the class. Usually, if someone has been coming to class regularly all semester, turned things in on time, etc, then I might be willing to give them a tiny bit of help - round a 79.3% up to a B-, say. If you get a 79.3%, you will get your C+ and you'd better be thankful for it, because if you try to complain or claim you weren't using AI, I'll be letting the college's academic disciplinary committee decide what grade you should get.

Eventually my school will probably write actual guidelines for me to follow when I suspect use of AI, but for now, it's the wild west and it is in your best interest to avoid a showdown with me.

[writterings]

to be so for real i think a lot of people especially in progressive spaces are just rude and ignorant about witchcraft being a valid religion. like it might seem like make believe and woo woo shit to you and YEAH there's countless issues with cultural appropriation and bioessentialism within the witch community but like. man cmon that's every religion. like sorry you're a raised-vaguely-christian-and-now-atheist asshole but making fun of someone's religion that most likely pulled them out of a dark place and now currently enhances their life is not the political praxis you think it is. it just makes you pathetic and annoying. also there's a lot more to witchcraft than the shit you see online like pinterest spells and witchtok. like it's a legit religion to countless people that has many deep and nuanced practices, beliefs, and guidelines that you obviously don't know about.

[alittledarkalittlegloom]

channeling the ghost of a 19th century woman who wrote for a newspaper in order to feed her children so that I can actually work on the paper that's due on saturday

[5-htagonist]

l@imari has a place in my heart fr

[marlynnofmany]

In the interest of not derailing this already-long-and-awesome thread, here are some more details! (Paging @sparrows-corner and any other interested parties.)

So in my first semester of college, I took an Intro to Psychology class. I didn't expect anything special; it was just one of those general education courses that everybody was supposed to take at some point. But it turned out amazing.

What the general public didn't know at that point was someone in the college administration had screwed up and forgotten to assign a teacher to this class. Until a week before class. When several students emailed to ask why that detail was missing in the online listing.

The administration panicked, scrambled for someone-anyone-omg-who-can-drop-everything-and-teach-this-class. They called recently-graduated owners of Masters Degrees in teaching.

They found Sandy.

She was qualified and available, and much older than the average recent grad, with the confidence to go with it. This was still a daunting task, though, and she agreed on one condition: that she team-teach the class with a friend of hers who was still working on finishing his degree.

Having no other choice and seeing no real problem with this, the administration agreed. And thus was born the most glorious educational comedy act in my entire academic career. The two of them were a delight. They knew all the stuff they needed to teach, and they knew a great deal more, and they delivered lectures in a way that had everyone paying eager attention. It was great.

This friend, by the way, was awesome in his own right. While Sandy was a curly-haired white lady around middle age, Wayne was a black guy who (1) dressed in impeccable suits and (2) had cerebral palsy.

I think a lot of 18-year-old minds were quietly enlightened about a few things just from watching these two banter back and forth, one with joints more wobbly than the other. Wayne told a memorable anecdote at one point about stopping by a grocery store in sweat pants instead of his usual classy wear. The cashier asked some gentle question about what he spent his time on, assuming that he had some sort of carer following him around. The expression on her face when he told her that he taught college was one I'll never forget, and I didn't even see it.

Anyways, at the end of this semester, the two teachers asked a few of us smart kids if we wanted to be TAs (teaching assistants) for the next semester. Since most of us had already become friends during the make-a-group-and-discuss-things portions of the class, this sounded like a party that would look good on our records later. And it really was.

I TA'd for that class a few times in a row, with my buddies and the two very cool teachers. We met up outside of class for holiday parties and everything.

And, since this was during the time the Lord of the Rings trilogy was first coming out in theaters, we all dressed up in costume and went to an early screening together.

Wayne drove. His handicap placard meant we got to park at the front, which was pretty awesome.

Now, I'd met people before who knew more LotR lore than I did, but they all paled in comparison to Sandy. As I said in the notes on that other post, she shared some stories of her youth with us. When she was fourteen, she ran away to join a hippie commune. She already knew fluent elvish, and she used that to help the commune's drug-runners stay out of the clutches of the cops, by translating their drug notes into a language the cops couldn't read. With a start like that, it was unsurprising that she still knew elvish now, along with all sorts of fascinating deep lore.

She had a limited edition book that looked shockingly expensive. She made beeswax candles for all the TAs as holiday gifts, with our names written on them in elvish. I still have mine somewhere.

I haven't heard from any of these lovely people in a long time, since college moves on and so does life, but I will treasure those memories forever. I hope Sandy and Wayne and the others are doing well. They deserve the best.

[sourwulf]

stiles comes to you after his female anatomy class and asks you to help. he says he’s never even watched torn so has never even seen a vagina, but yours is the first one he winds up seeing and eating out

༄  word count  —  2.3k

፨  characters  —  stiles stilinski

☓  tw  —  none

⊹  cw  —  smut & oral, losing of virginity

☼  a/n— i have... severely neglected this blog

✎  masterlist

─

you were sitting on your couch watching tv, a root beer flavored sucker between your lips. you were channel surfing, nothing catching your eye. your front door opened unannounced, making your head whip towards it.

after it closed, the familiar face of stiles poked around the corner.

you sighed, glad it wasn't an intruder.

"hey," you greeted. "ever heard of knocking?"

"sorry, it's raining and the door was unlocked. i figured you wouldn't mind."

he kicked his shoes off and walked over to sit next to you, mimicking your position by crossing his arms.

"what flavor is that?" he asked, looking at the stick in your mouth.

"root beer."

"nice."

"so what's up?"

"i was hoping you could help me study."

"as long as it's not math."

"honestly, i kinda wish it was."

"why? what is it?"

"so... it's for my health class. we're doing a human anatomy course for the sex ed unit."

"and you need my help... why?"

"well... it's female anatomy." you raised your eyebrows. "you're the only person i'm comfortable with asking for help on this."

you just looked at him for a second before taking in a deep breath and turning off the tv.

"alright, fine."

within a couple of minutes you were both upstairs on your bed. you sat against your headboard, him laying on his side horizontal across the bed with his assignment in front of him.

so far, it was just multiple choice and fill in the blank questions. he was reading them out, getting your answers.

"what do the ovaries do?" he asked, a diagram of the uterus, ovaries, and fallopian tubes above the questions, with lines to label each.

"make hormones and contain eggs."

he skimmed the answers, finding the one that fit that description the best.

once he finished that chart, he flipped the page to see a very detailed diagram of a vagina, also with lines pointing to specific parts of it for him to label.

he looked at it for a moment, as if he was really studying it.

"vulva."

"i'm pretty sure that's just an all-inclusive word to include everything."

he circled the right answer

"what is the... clitoris? did i say that right?"

hearing stiles say the word 'clitoris' was a bit weird, but to be fair most people don't really say the full word.

"are you really asking me what the clit is?"

"yeah, what is it?"

you looked at him slightly in disbelief, chuckling a bit.

"come on, stiles."

"what?"

you were dumbfounded. everyone knows what the clit is.

"you've never even heard the word?"

"i've heard of it, i just don't know what it is."

"it's kind of obvious if you're looking at a vagina."

he shrugged. "never seen one. well, other than this drawing."

now this left you stunned. never seen a vagina? how was it possible for a teenage boy to never have seen one?

"you've watched porn, though."

he shook his head. "nope."

somehow he continued to shock you more with every sentence.

"never?"

"never."

"stiles, you're a teenage boy, and you're telling me you've never watched porn?"

"never needed to."

"the clitoris is... it's like a little bud above the vaginal opening. it's full of nerve endings and it's really only there for pleasure purposes."

"huh. interesting. can i ask you a question?"

"shoot."

"does every vagina look like this?"

"what do you mean?"

"like... are they all identical?"

"uh... no. every vagina is different. just like every penis is different. some of them are dangly, some are hairy, it just depends on the person."

"does yours look like this?"

your eyebrows dipped.

"did you really just ask me that?"

"i thought i was allowed to ask questions."

"yeah, general questions."

"that is a general question."

you sighed. "similar. but not really. i mean, they all have the same basic parts. but the anatomy is different sometimes."

he nodded. "wish i could see a real one up close."

it was kind of funny, how he was talking about vaginas like a specimen he could study.

"you will someday." he made eye contact with you and raised his eyebrows slightly. "stiles. you're not implying what i think you are, are you?"

"i mean... i'm not gonna say no."

"i'm not showing you my vagina!"

"that's not what i was asking, pervert," he said in an unconvincing tone.

to be completely honest, you weren't completely against the idea. the best way to learn was to see the real thing, not just a drawing.

you sighed. "fine." his eyes lit up a bit. "on one condition."

"mm?"

"no touching. only looking."

he nodded.

"sounds fair to me."

you could not believe you were fully exposing yourself to him right now, your vagina just out. your upper body was propped up on your pillows, your knees bent and thighs spread with his eyes glued to you.

"and no judging my lack of shaving."

he shrugged. "doesn't bother me."

he was looking at you like it was a book and he was reading every word.

"this is kinda weird, right?" you asked, trying to break the tension. and trying to distract him from the fact that his gaze was causing you to grow wetter and wetter with every second.

"a little bit, yeah."

"so... my vagina is the first one you've ever seen."

"yep. looks pretty similar to the drawing."

a few seconds of heavy silence went by.

"i mean... it's hard to learn when you're not... hands-on." you mentally slapped yourself for how cringey that sounded.

he froze, looking up into your eyes.

"what?"

"yeah, i mean... how are you supposed to learn what the clitoris is if you don't get to see what it does?"

"oh. i don't- i don't know."

"exactly."

"but you said no touching."

"i know what i said. maybe sometimes it's good to... break rules."

he slowly crawled closer to you and you spread your thighs wider. the cold air against your wetness could've given you chills.

"what... what do i do?" he asked, his face only a couple of inches away.

"see if you can find the words on your paper."

he looked over at it. "labia."

he lightly poked your wet lips — not the ones on your face.

"good."

"was that it?"

"mhm. good job."

"clitoris," he said without looking back at the paper.

"you remembered that one."

he looked around for a second before, without warning, placing the pad of his pointer finger onto your clit, making you take in a deep breath.

"that?"

"yep. right again."

"what do you... do with it?"

it was uncomfortable to explain, especially with a face in your vagina and a finger on your clit.

"uh... lots of things. really it's just different ways of touching it and touching it with different things. so, you could go in circles, back and forth, up and down. you can also use your tongue or some kind of toy. it's another thing that just depends on the person, everyone likes different things."

"what do you like?"

"circles, usually."

with a second of hesitation, he began slowly moving that finger in circles. you let out a breathy moan and closed your eyes, but he stopped.

"was that okay?"

you opened your eyes and looked down at him.

"that was good."

"so... what happens? is there like... an end goal here?"

"orgasm. it's how most women have to get there. sex, like penetration, usually isn't enough to get a lot of us there."

"really?"

"yeah. that's why it's important for our partners to do something other than just regular sex."

"so... do you usually prefer fingers or... a tongue?"

"well... me personally, i usually prefer a tongue. i feel like it's just more intimate."

"and what do you do with the tongue?"

"same thing you would with fingers. circles, back and forth, up and down-"

you were interrupted by a warm tongue on your clit, unable to hold in a gasp. he was going in circles like you said to do, and it was like he knew what to do immediately.

it felt good. you looked down at him to see him returning the gaze, a smirk creeping across his face.

"good, just like that, stiles."

you were doing your darndest to keep your hips still, ensuring he did everything right his first time. he placed his hands atop your thighs, making sure they stayed spread.

you reached up and pushed your hair out of your face, fisting a ball of your own hair. you were moaning, which he wasn't expecting to hear the first time he did this.

"you're doing good, stiles. that feels good."

he didn't answer, but his ego grew a few sizes at that. the closer you got to your orgasm, the more he had to hold you still. his arms were now wrapped around your thighs, his hands flat against your belly.

"fuck, okay, i can feel it coming," you said, looking down at him. "keep going, i'm gonna cum."

when you did look at him, it looked like he was experienced in this. his positioning, his hands, his pace, everything screamed 'i've done this a thousand times before'.

he liked this. being able to make you melt with just his tongue was making him hard, but he couldn't help it. your sweet voice moaning his name was like music to his ears, and the closer you got the louder you became.

your fingers tangled in his hair, trying not to pull too hard.

"don't stop, stiles. i'm almost there. i'll tell you when to stop."

he obeyed, not changing a single thing he was doing. if it hadn't have been so obvious, he might not have known you were cumming.

your back arched sharply, you took in a loud gasp, and your legs were trembling.

this was an incredible orgasm. you were perplexed by his skill, as ten minutes ago he had never even laid eyes on a vagina, much less eaten one out. but he was a quick learner, as you'd figured out from all the werewolf stuff.

"alright, stop, stop," you choked out. he immediately pulled away, using his shirt to wipe his mouth. you closed your legs and reveled in your high. your hand covered your eyes and you struggled to catch your breath.

"was that okay?" he asked innocently.

"are you kidding?" a moment later, you propped yourself up on your elbows. "how did you know how to do that?"

he shrugged. "i just did what you described."

"i've had more than one guy go down on me who was experienced and couldn't make me cum at all. that was, what, two minutes?"

"i guess i'm a natural," he joked.

you tilted your head to the side. "c'mere." you spread your legs again and his eyes widened, slowly following your directions. he held himself above you and you pulled him down to kiss you.

your hand trailed down his chest and landed on his belt, the clanking of the buckle making him pull away.

"what're you doing?" he whispered, looking at your half-closed eyes.

"well... i can see you're rock hard. i just figured, if you're losing your oral virginity, you might as well lose the regular one too."

he gulped hard, not moving.

"oh."

you stopped messing with his belt, furrowing your brow.

"unless you don't want to. you don't have to. don't feel like i'm pressuring you."

he shook his head.

"i don't. it's just... i didn't expect this. i wasn't planning on doing that when i came over, and i definitely didn't expect this. i didn't bring a condom or anything."

"i have some." you reached down and cupped his bulge in your hand, which made him falter a bit. "they might be a bit snug, but they'll fit."

he nodded, and you continued unbuckling his belt. when you got his pants shimmied down a bit and he was exposed to you, you noticed how red his cheeks were.

"what's wrong?"

"nothing. just... i don't want to disappoint you."

"stiles, it's your first time. i'm not expecting you to last past the first thrust." you can tell he took that as an insult. "i didn't mean it like that. no guy lasts past the first thrust during their first time. vaginas are different than hands or socks. i want you to feel comfortable with this. i promise i'm not judging you."

he nodded. "okay."

"if you don't want to have sex yet i could always just blow you instead. you might last longer that way."

"no, i want to do this."

"okay."

you reached over and grabbed a condom out of your nightstand drawer and opened it for him.

"want me to put it on for you?" you asked, to which you received a nod.

the feeling of your hand stroking down on him could've made him cum right then and there. but he wanted to wait until he was at least inside of you.

the feeling of his tip pressing into you was magical for both of you, and once he was fully nestled into you, he pressed a deep kiss onto your mouth.

he didn't move for a moment, wanting this to last as long as possible.

he was a nice size, not small by any means but not the biggest you'd had. he was perfect.

"you okay?" you whispered, pushing his hair off his forehead.

he nodded, the redness in his cheeks spreading to his chest. he slowly pulled out, and let out a loud, shaky moan with the next thrust. him laying his forehead against your chest let you know that he had cum, his arms trembling a bit.

when he looked at you again, he chuckled.

"what?" you asked.

"lasted past the first thrust." you both laughed at that, and you kissed him again. "next time it'll be better."

"next time?" he nodded. "when will that be?"

he thought for a second. "give me a couple of hours."

[rainrot4me]

Eyeless Jack General Headcannons

Summary: Basic, SFW, and NSFW head-cannons. My personal thoughts, feelings, and opinions about Jack as a character.

TW: NSFW below the cut, minors dni! Above the cut is sfw! Mentions of gore

Words: 2.3k

A/N: NSFW is reader with female anatomy.

Basic:

- The definition of nonchalant, doesn’t convey his emotions very well at all so he lets his actions do the talking.

- Even though he may put on a front of being calculated and detailed, everything he does is purely instinctual or off the top of his head. He’s never made great plans or thought further on a problem than he had to, relying solely on time or for everything to work itself out. Ben calls it ‘thuggin it out’. He may seem all cool, calm, and collected- but really, he just doesn’t care.

- Drives a brown 1989 Ford F-250. Found it discarded on some old hunting grounds and spent the next 3 years learning about truck parts just to fix it up. It’s nothing pretty and the A/C doesn’t work half the time, but that doesn't stop the proxies from either stealing it for missions or Jeff cruising it to gas stations.

- Loves his alone time. If ‘Do Not Disturb’ was a living being.

- Incredible sense of smell, a blessing and a curse.

- Even though he doesn’t really feel emotionally tied to anyone or reliant on anyone's attention, he would never pass up a good conversation with Jeff or Toby. Finds their problems interesting (and funny).

- Even though he doesn’t have any eyes, he can still see. How? Who even knows? The demon would describe it as more of a viewing like he can detail everything that’s happening, but he can’t physically see it. Cryptic stuff even he’s too dumb to figure out.

- Despite everything, probably the most upkeep and clean member of the mansion. While eating organs and harvesting them can be messy, he doesn’t like the grime and prefers to clean off as soon as he can. The same goes for his clothes and room/office. Surprisingly tidy.

- Not as smart as he likes to present himself. Sure, he’s a medical student with more experience than anyone in a 50-mile radius, but that doesn’t mean he knows what he’s doing all of the time. Whenever the proxies roll in with serious injuries, the demon shoots them full of antibiotics, cauterizes the wound, and prays it doesn’t get worse from there. He knows what he’s doing, but that doesn’t mean he knows it’ll work 100% of the time.

- A silent panicker. Will absolutely tear his brain to shreds worrying or fighting with himself, but keep a stone look on his face the entire time. Gauging his emotions is like conversing with a brick wall.

- Dry humor. Absolutely will answer your long, emotional paragraph with a thumbs-up emoji.

- In some sick way, slightly prefers the life he’s living now. It may be grotesque and depressing, but his knowledge of the medical field and human bodies is infinitely more broad than it would’ve been. He quite enjoys the freedom he has now.

- Never happier than when winter is fizzling out and the first signs of spring show up. The warmth, the colors, the vibrancy coming back. He can’t get enough of it. Absolutely will get lost just studying the snow melting from the new flower beds.

- Locked in the basement of the mansion at all times. Only comes out to eat or on the rare occasion he’s assigned a mission. The only place he truly feels comfortable.

- Will get oddly emotional when light reflects on the lake just right or the fog settles on the ridge just perfectly. You’d never guess, but he’s a big poetic bum.

- Purrs. Like a cat. Ears flick around like one too.

- With music, he’s a big lyric listener. The song could sound absolutely terrible, but as long as he resonates with the words, will enjoy it anyway.

- Unorganized organization freak. Everything has a place, even if you don’t know where that place is.

- Seriously underestimates just how overtowering he is. He’s nowhere near Slender’s height, but the demon easily doubles in the average human’s vertical. When he was human he was taller, but never like this. He’s still getting used to it.

- Lanky but quick. Limbs and features are longer, but the muscle index makes up for it. He’s seriously fit, but everything is evenly distributed. Serious muscle definition in his arms and back, though. What he lacks in strength, he makes up in speed and agility.

- Enjoys Radiohead, Cigarettes After Sex, Paramore, and Three Days Grace. Will also never admit it, but really enjoy the Twilight soundtracks.

Dating Him/SFW:

“My pet…” “Little thing…” “Pretty thing…”

- Gift-giving love language. Loves to make you things unexpectedly and watch the surprise on your face. Steals jewelry or clothing from his victims to gift to you.

- It takes a lot for the demon to even consider you a friend let alone a potential love interest. But you best believe once he’s decided he wants you, that’s it. You take precedent, anything and everything else in his life takes a step back and you become the focal point. Heaven help if you ever change your mind about him.

- “My pretty thing… my lovely little pet… all mine…”

- Physically can not get enough of your smell. Whether it be sweet or sour, whatever emotion you dwell in, this demon will bury his nose into the crook of your neck and waste away there. It’s intoxicating to him, like an emotional tie he’s bound to.

- Like to study you. Your movements, your voice, the way you react to certain stimuli. Everything about you and your personality just intrigues him to no end.

- Possessive in the, ‘If they look at you, I’ll kill them’ way, but also is sure enough in himself and you to know he doesn’t need to go that far. Would rather lock you away for only him to see, but respects you too much.

- Has a deep-rooted fear of hurting you, so any fight or disagreement turns him distant. He’ll come back eventually, but that doesn’t mean he’ll be comfortable enough to get all touchy-feely again just yet.

- A lot like Edward from Twilight, he wants to taste you the most. It’s seriously a bad habit to nip at your skin or get lost in your scent because he knows how easy it would be just to take a chunk out of you. Has to be very aware and cautious of himself.

- Even though it took a long time for him to be comfortable enough to take his mask off around you, he still gets wildly conscious about it whenever you’re around. Loves nothing more than when you’re caressing his face or kissing his skin because he knows it's genuine.

- For a cannibal, he’s an insanely good cook. Will only cook for you, however. He says it's out of love, but really he knows deep down he wants to control what you eat so you have good organ health. You best believe he’ll have you hitting those core diet needs.

- Doesn’t sleep often, but when he does it's for long periods. The problem is, he likes to completely swallow you with his body and wrap around you, keeping you there until he eventually wakes up. Really enjoys the body heat you provide. Lowkey a small spoon.

- Slouches to your height.

- His favorite time is after a long day, curling up in a big chair with a book and you in his lap. You cocoon in his arms as he leans back, a blanket draped over the two of you. He’s naturally cold-blooded so he would stay there forever if he could.

- “You smell so good, pet… So good…”

- Talks in short, mumbled sentences. The mansion residents started using you as a translator because he would only say more than 3 words at a time around you.

- Absolutely never cared about how he looked before you. You taught him decent clothing styles and now he rocks the ‘dark academia/soft boy’ aesthetic like a champ.

- Made you your own special corner in his lab just because he couldn’t deal with having to be away while working.

- An intense kisser. It’s never soft pecks but full-on mouth-consuming makeouts. He’s a hungry guy who can only be satisfied if he feels like he’s swallowed enough of your tongue and lips with his own. Your lips and chin are absolutely soaked with slobber afterward.

- Firm believer in carrying you. No matter where or how far, he likes to bridal-style haul you around or have you latch onto his back.

- “I could eat you up. Just kidding… yeah…”

- Goes ridiculously insane when he can see the chubbiness on your thighs or stomach. You sitting down or lying out, you best believe he is fighting every demon internally not to take a massive bite on your skin.

Dating Him/NSFW:

- Again, skin. No better than a man during the dark times when you flash just a little too much leg or abdomen. He’s on you in seconds and clawing your clothes off to see more.

- You will never leave an encounter without cum dripping out of you. Refuses to get off anywhere else but deep inside of one of your holes. Call it a breeding kink but his animalistic tendencies just won’t let him pull out. Grunting and panting against your nape as he slams inside as far as he can to keep you from squirming away

- “You can take it, I know you can… Need you full of me… All of me…”

- A greedy kisser. Grabbing your jaw and fucking his tongues into the warm wetness of your mouth, teasing to just push them further past the tightness of your throat. Even when you squirm and gag, he just pushes them deeper, testing your resolve.

- You reach your breaking point longggg before he does. A couple of orgasms deep and he hasn’t even put his cock in yet, just milking your body for all it’s worth. It may be because he has a high sex drive, but it’s mainly because he gets off best when you’re pliable and numb to his touch. It’s a domination thing.

- A pussy worshiper. Much like his adoration for any organ, he really appreciates all of his knowledge of the female anatomy and how good he is at eating you out. If he can, or if you can take it, he’ll press all three of his tongues deep inside and spread your plush walls to his content. Likes to swap between focusing on your cunt and your clit, but mainly both at once.

- Bite marks galore. Has to be careful with how much blood he draws, but you’ll never get by without at least one good bite mark on your shoulder. Likes to possessively mark you all over just for others to see. Same feeling with claw marks.

- There’s some cognitive switch in his brain that flips when he gets to a certain point of desperation, like after not seeing you for a long period or after a particularly difficult day. It’s like a starved creature hungry and desperate for anything. He’ll ravage your body and mind, fucking you both to pure exhaustion or until he physically can’t cum anymore.

- On that note, ruts. They’re seasonal, usually coming around the first two weeks of spring and fall. He can’t control when they show up, but once started, they usually last 3 to 4 days, each day getting less intense. Since it’s such an animalistic ordeal, he loses all restraint or moral compass on how to treat you. Bites, blood, wounds, and injury are all possible. They’re not intentional, but he physically cannot control his mental or physical, blinded completely by lust. Thank god his sperm isn’t compatible with human anatomy, because that’s the only place he’ll cum.

- “I’m sorry- sorry, pet- Just one more time- just one more- Fuck- I promise-”

- Both ankles wrapped in one claw. Two claws overlapping around your waist. Yeah…

- Starts slow, so achingly slow you want to rut your hips and get him deeper. He likes the feeling of entering you, of spreading your plush cunt around his cock and finding its home deep inside. He’ll get faster eventually, but for now, he just wants to drink up the sights and smells of your desperation. That first gasp gets him every time.

- Mating press or nothing else. If you want to try something new, he’ll happily oblige, but the only way he’s truly happy is if your legs are pushed back to your shoulders and his hips are slamming down into yours. He’ll take the occasional doggy style, but only if his teeth are latched on to the back of your neck and holding you docile.

- Could watch your face come undone all day. Loves to see your eyes roll when you come, or the sweat and tears dripping off your cheeks. The dark flush of your skin gets him so hungry he has to physically restrain himself.

- “You’re so gorgeous- so fuckin’ pretty- Ah- Look at me. C’mon, don’t get shy now…”

- One time, after a particularly messy organ harvest, he couldn’t wait to get to you. He was so livid, body practically shaking with excitement when he snuck into your room that he didn’t even have time to clean himself off. Blood (not yours) stained your sheets and skin, messy claws dragging across your stomach and chest to coat you in dark red, his tongues quick to shoot out and lap at the stuff. You, covered in blood and his mess, sent him spinning. That was the fastest he’s ever came.

- Growling, panting, snarling, huffing, chittering, teeth gnashing, LOUD ASF

- Has a size thing. Comparing your hand to his makes him so horny and eager to just pick you up and fuck you. Admires how small and easy you are to just throw around like a doll.

- Absolutely has had sick fantasies of fucking your organs like a fleshlight. He’d never tell you, but the thought of cutting a slit in your abdomen to push his cock into the tangle of intestines and muscles makes him drool. He can almost imagine how warm it would be.

- Gets a high when you squirt. Feels accomplished to be covered in your juices and having you completely ruined for anyone but him.

- “You can take it for me, yeah? Go ahead and make a mess… It’s alright…”

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[sturnsmia]

𝑯𝑰𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑯𝑰 | 𝑪𝑯𝑹𝑰𝑺 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉…your assigned to be a private chef for the sturniolo’s for the night and chris seems to take a special interest towards you.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 smut, p in v, backshots, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, dumbification kink, male masturbation

the leaves from the trees in the backyard softly rustle from the autumn breeze as you place down utensils and plates on the clothed table. you have always loved cooking for others and experimenting with new recipes. that’s what sparked the idea to become a professional chef and share your passion with everyone. you were awaiting your next clients, three famous youtubers who rented out an airbnb for a fancy hibachi dinner. you finished placing down bottles of miscellaneous condiments before hearing the gate to the backyard open. three figures walked in with a man holding a camera following close behind.

“hi! you guys must be the sturniolos.” you greeted with a smile as you approached them. “i’m y/n, i’ll be cooking for you guys tonight.” you explained, sticking your hand out towards the boy in a blue shirt.

“that’s us! i’m nick, and this is matt and chris.” he pointed to his left. your gaze shifted as you smiled brightly at matt and chris, you felt a flush creep on your cheeks as chris held eye contact with you. although though the three boys looked the same you were captivated by him almost instantly.

“it’s nice to meet you all! are you ready to get started?” you quickly blurted out to distract yourself from the slightly awkward interaction. they all nodded before following behind you to their dinner table.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

“okay let’s get started! watch closely cause one of you guys will have to try this next.” you explained, beginning to flip your special hibachi spatula and knife between your hands. you swiftly spun the utensils towards nick, pretending to throw it at him before quickly retracing it back towards you. the three boys watched in awe at your tricks.

“that was sick.” chris announced from beside you, nodding his head in approval at your performance. matt and nick chuckled from beside him before speaking up. “chris why don’t you go up there and try?” nick insisted to his younger brother.

“yeah come on up here and give it a try!” you encouraged stepping aside to allow him to be in front of the stove. chris smiled and rolled his eyes as his brothers cheered him on, you handed him the utensils and began guiding him. “alright so your going to hold this hand in place and flick your wrist forward for the spinning motion.” you instructed, placing your hands on his and guiding him through the process.

“alright alright i got this.” chris laughed at his brothers. he tapped the spatula on the stove before attempting to spin it through the prongs of the utensil, ultimately failing. nick and matt chanted a “boo” at their brothers failure. you giggled at their bickering before looking back at chris.

“hey the form was pretty good! let’s try one more time.” you said with a smile. your skirt slightly rid up as you bent over in front of chris, unknowingly revealing your lacy black panties beneath your sheer tights. after retrieving the spatula on the ground and picked up the utensil and wiped it gently on your black skirt. chris could feel his dick start to twitch beneath his pants as he stared down at you.

after another attempt at your trick, chris failed and sat back down allowing his brothers a chance to try. he watched as you giggled alongside matt and nick while they tried your movements, only nick was successful. chris didn’t even pay attention to his brothers, his gaze was fixated on you. the way your hair sat perfectly on your shoulders and how your tits sat perfectly in the black collared shirt you wore, the three buttons you left undone showed the perfect amount of cleavage. he shifted in his char to subtly adjust the prominent tent against his pants. but the more he shifted his mind raced with desire and aching for release.

“i have to use the bathroom i’ll be back.” chris stated, quickly walking towards the house to avoid anyone noticing the strain in his sweats from his erection. as soon as he reached the bathroom door he slammed it shut and locked it. he untied his sweatpants and yanks them down, shoving his hand into his boxers. springing his dick from his pants and wrapping his hand around it he pumps his hand, moaning lowly. picturing it was your hand on his cock, chris’s hand moved faster up and down his shaft breathing heavily.

“alright you guys enjoy that rice and i’ll be preparing your next dish!” you smiled handing matt and nick their bowls. they both said a quick “thank you” before you walked back into the house. as you made your way to the kitchen and opened the fridge to get some eggs you heard low noises coming from the bathroom.

chris was too caught up with his movements and thoughts to hear the footsteps approaching the door behind him. he let out another groan as his hand moved faster.

you knew it was wrong, but your feet stayed planted in front of the bathroom door. you were going to step away until you heard chris moaning your name. your mind starts to wander as you imagine chris getting himself off from you. the thought alone sends a wave of heat through your body, chris’ noises went straight to your core, soaking onto your panties. you could picture everything you wanted chris to do to you. a lightbulb went off in your brain before you quickly walked back down the hallway.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

after realizing how long he had been away, chris cleaned himself up and started walking back down the hallway before stopping in his tracks, seeing you stare him down from the kitchen.

“you were in there for an awfully long time.” you stated with your arms crossed over your chest. chris swallowed hard, he didn’t respond as you slowly walked towards him.

“oh, uh sorry. were you waiting for the bathroom?” he stuttered, he didn’t think he was being that loud.

“if you wanted help chris, you could’ve just asked.” you mumbled with a smile creeping on your lips.

without a second thought chris smashed his lips onto yours. he pushed your back into the kitchen counter, before pulling away. “are you okay with this?” chris asked with heavy breaths, you immediately nodded and crashed your lips onto his again. he slipped his tongue inside your mouth, the both of you fighting for dominance and hungry with desire. chris toyed with the waistband of your skirt before you broke away from the kiss.

“chris don’t tease” you whined, trailing your manicured hands on his bicep.

“tell me what you want angel.”

“please just touch me.” you whispered, barley audible but laced with need. that was all chris needed to hear before tearing your skirt and tights down to your feet, leaving you in only your lacy black panties. you gasped as chris pressed his fingers against your clothed clit.

“you think you’re so sneaky hm? bending over in front of me and showing off that pretty little ass of yours. purposely tryin to get me worked up huh?” chris taunted, attaching his lips to your neck, attacking you with wet kisses and hickies. with his free hand he pulled the delicate fabric down to your feet, exposing your soaked core to the cool air.

“barley even touched ya and you’re already soaked.” he laughed darkly. without any warning he slide one of his long fingers inside of you. an airy moan escaped your lips as chris pumped his finger in and out of you.

“can you handle another one baby? god, you look so pretty under my touch.” chris whined, using his other hand to pry your legs apart. you nodded quickly. “use your words.” he insisted.

“yes! please put in another i-i can handle it!” you moaned in desperation. chris inserted another finger, making your back arch further. his fingers curled up inside of you, repeatedly hitting the sweet spot that made you see stars. you squeezed your eyes shut and cried out when he began rubbing circles on your clit, chris pressed his lips on yours to silence your noises, not wanting his brothers to hear anything. your walls clench around his fingers, whining as he increased his speed.

the squelching noises from his fingers combined with your moans could make chris cum already. he took one of his hands and undid your shirt, groaning at the sight of your tits pushed together from the red lacy bra. detaching his lips from yours, he left a trail of wet kisses from your neck to the valley of your breasts.

“chr-chris ngh i-i’m close.” you whimpered, feeling the tension coiling tighter within you.

but the feeling had stopped, you looked at chris who had pulled his fingers away from you and into his mouth, a sinister grin on his face. before you could protest, he gripped your hips tightly and spun you around, pressing you against the kitchen counter. he ridded himself out of his sweatpants and boxers with his dick springing out and hitting his stomach. he let out low grunts as he pumped himself a couple times before lining himself with your entrance.

chris didn’t waste another second before slamming into you, causing a loud pornographic moan to rip from your throat. his animalistic pace left your hips digging into the counter, surely to leave bruises. he held your waist tightly to keep you upright as he pounds into you. chris’s hand trails down your spine and presses down on it lightly to arch your back farther allowing him to hit deeper inside of you, causing you to cry out in ecstasy.

“mmh—fuck! f-feels so good!” you moaned as your eyes rolled back into your head. your hands scrape at the marble counter for something to keep you stable. salty tears pooled in your eyes from the amount of pleasure you were experiencing.

“shit—you’re so fuckin tight. i can feel your pussy squeezing around me.” chris laughs lowly next to your ear. tears stained your cheeks as you pant heavily, jolting with every moment. chris toys with your clit once more, soft moans leaving his mouth and loud ones leaving yours. he sticks his fingers between your lips causing you to gag. “shh be quiet f’me alright?”

chris continues to drill his dick into your pussy, his tip hitting the perfect spot with every thrust. sweat drips down your temple, mixing with your tear stained cheeks. you could barley even think straight as your lost in the overwhelming sensation coursing throughout your body.

“look at you, such a dirty little slut. getting fucked dumb on my cock, knowing my brothers could walk in at any second.”

the sound of your skin slapping against his echoes throughout the kitchen along with your breathless moans and his low grunts. chris takes his fingers out of your mouth before gripping your ass harshly, sending a couple hard smacks to your skin. you tremble beneath his touch as your walls spasm around his shaft, your climax building in your lower stomach.

“chris i—oh my god, mmh close—need to cum!” you babbled as tears and drool covered you cheeks. chris didn’t stop his relentless pace, continuing to pound into your tight hole.

“yeah? you gonna cum all over my cock for me sweetheart?” chris asks, landing another hard smack on your ass. you nodded as you felt the coil in your tummy threatening to snap at any second. your inner walls squeezing around his dick. “go ahead then, pretty girl, don’t hold back.”

you’re practically screaming his name as you hit your climax, releasing all over his cock that fucks your through your high. chris’s thrust become sloppy before he pulls out and paints your ass with warm white streaks. your legs shook as chris turned you around to face him, hoisting your thighs onto the countertop. he presses soft kisses on your inner thigh as you pant above him.

“you did so good f’me angel.” chris praised, prying your legs open before pressing his lips to your puffy folds. you whine from the sensitivity as he laps his tongue around your bundle of nerves, cleaning up the mess you made. your hand flew to his brunette curls, causing him to groan. his sounds vibrated against your sensitive nub. he pressed a gentle kiss before pulling away from your abused cunt with a wet pop, pulling his lips to yours. the taste of your orgasm still lingering on his lips.

chris adjusted his boxers and sweats before helping you back into your tights and skirt. he brushed a loose piece of hair behind your ear and pressed a kiss to your temple. “you okay?” you gave him a quiet “mhm” and reassuring smile before nick and matt walked into the kitchen with a disgusted look on their face.

“are you guys done yet i’m literally starving.”

𝐱𝐨𝐱𝐨, 𝐦𝐢𝐚 ♡

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆, ok so i did make some mistakes the first time posting this so im re-uploading !! this is my first time writing smut so please be nice. i can’t lie i don’t like it 😣, something about it is like really bad but I DONT KNOW. also i didn’t proofread this so if the perspectives change a lot i apologize lol. i hope u guys liked this and send me anons and asks so i can talk to u!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⋆˚࿔ ౨ৎ ˚. ᵎᵎ @sirenedeslily @freshloveee

[teaboot]

Growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence?

My earliest memory of what I would call self-awareness occurred spontaneously in the middle of my fourth birthday party, where I suddenly became alert to my existence as a separate entity surrounded by other conscious beings.

This presented to me as not dissimilar to simply being brushed along the flow of a river- experiencing life as a serious of flashbang moments and instants and sensations, like meditating to music until the individual notes break into sounds that follow no rhythm and are only noise- no past or future, only now- and then suddenly finding yourself holding a paddle in the belly of a boat with no idea what to do next.

I remember running to the body that felt safest, who I did not recognize as anything else, and asking it who all the strangers around us were. The person that I learned was my mother told me they were my aunties and uncles, and I was being silly because I KNEW them, and why was I so shy all of a sudden?

Learning to articulate myself after that instant, I remember, was immensely frustrating. Learning your first language, as I remember it, is wuite a bit like how Ive been told recovering from brain damage feels like.

YOU know what you mean. YOU know what you're saying. But there are holes where you reach for something you know MUST be there and find nothing, and must find a way to communicate using only what you have at hand. Except there are always faces looking at you, talking down to you, asking you to do tricks for them to prove you really are a real human person.

I loved art, and I'm very good at it, but GETTING good at it was the worst. I'm told I started with scribbles at six months or so, before I could walk, and at three and four I remember being immensely frustrated that I could see in my head exactly what I wanted to produce, and I didn't know how to PRODUCE it.

And simple shit, like drawing shapes and circles, developing fine motor skills. You FULLY UNDERSTAND THE ASSIGNMENT, but your hands are soft and wobbly and don't cooperate. Getting your mouth and body to obey your directions is hellish, especially when all the appliances and furniture and installations around you are built for someone easily triple your size.

Chairs are hard to sit in when you're small and cant touch the ground. Your legs dangle and you cant scoot closer to the table, and the backrest is so far back you cant use it for support, and the table comes up past your chest so your chin is amost in your plate and your dumb clumsy hands cant hold a big spoon or fork in a way that feels natural or elegant so you end up smearing shit EVERYWHERE and getting yapped at for having your elbows on the counter.

Reading people was interesting. Most people are condescending and plastic when you're small, and you can tell when they're being saccharine and fake, but you're told the polite thing is to believe what they say and be polite back. I used to try using big sentences on purpose just to het them to leave me alone. "What a pretty girl! Can you say Hello?" was the most common ask I can recall. Id answer with the floweriest thing I could think of, usually, "I'm very well, thank you for asking, how are you?", because people only ask you interesting questions after you do well enough on their tests to prove you're people.

Being small was very tiring, and very frustrating, and becoming aware of myself in my own head probably made everything a lot worse overall.

No regrets, though. From what I can recall, life is far more enjoyable when you're aware of it occurring. Time can't slow down until you know it's there, I think

Being a baby full of instincts felt like living as a live grenade. Being a child was far harder, but more Full. More Human. A LOT more like adulthood than infancy, and I was very determined to remember that.

If any of that makes sense

[markscherz]

I'm sorry... snake paper? Are things heating up in the snake researcher fandom?

16 February 2024: A team of researchers (including a generally well-respected anaconda expert) found minimal and partly contradictory genetic differences in green anacondas over an enormous area, summarily dismissed all previous work on the taxonomy of green anacondas, and gave the mitochondrial lineage concerned a new name, along the way making some huge fumbles that show plainly that they have no idea how taxonomy works or what certain technical terms mean. They published the work in a journal from a suspect publishing house that is known to rush, skip, or ignore peer review as and when it suits them. And apparently there was some suspicious funding involved, though I don’t know much about that. They made a media storm with ‘a new anaconda!’ but within minutes there were people raising huge red flags about the paper, for the reasons enumerated above and others.

The response from ‘the community’ has been swift and harsh, but mostly fair, in my view. The discussion on ResearchGate reflects this pretty well. There are some bad takes about keeping ‘wokism’ out of science; I would argue that it remains critical to incorporate native peoples, knowledge, and languages into taxonomic work—just not the way this was done, in flagrant and intentional conflict with the established methods and protocols. There are also responses in the discussion by the lead author that show that he is evidently impervious to all of this criticism, and stands by the belief that the work and taxonomic reasoning is sound.

19 March 2024: two papers were published simultaneously in Bionomia, that both enumerate and rebut the problems of the original paper. And I know there are more on the way, though I don’t know if they are all going to be completed now that two responses have already been published.

The one thing I would weigh in on from my perspective is that it is the *taxonomy*, and not necessarily the evidence presented in the paper, that is the biggest problem. Species are described based on mitochondrial data alone all the time. Some of the results are quite interesting. But the taxonomy of the paper is a mess, full of contradictions, cherry-picking, and terminological errors. In the hands of competent taxonomists, the work might have been much more difficult to dispute. But also, no competent taxonomist would have assigned a new name to this lineage; there are too many existing names that would have priority, if it is worth recognising.

Undoing public perception of there being a new anaconda species will take years, if it can ever really be achieved. Always easier for media stories to go around than corrections.

TL;DR big snake paper made big mistakes, and within a month was dismissed. It has probably done lasting damage to perception of anaconda diversity.

[dreamingofaizawa]

Pretty Young Thing

Retired!Older! Kakashi Hatake x AFAB!Kunoichi! Reader

***This piece is rated M for MATURE. 18+ entry only***

Warnings: Age gap (like 20+ years dude fr it's a GAP), longing, Kakashi being smitten, Kakashi being awkward and emotionally constipated, penetrative sex (p in v), fingering, cum eating, pussy slapping, creampies (wrap it before you tap it, people), squirting, overstimulation, VERY BRIEF dd/lg dynamic (I COULDN'T RESIST I'M SORRY)

Word Count: 4.5k

Author's Note: So. This was SUPPOSED to be a short drabble about Kakashi getting older and retiring and being interested in a cute, young, you. However, I couldn't stop my brain from braining and my hands from typing. It was gonna be less than 500 words. I don't know WHAT possessed me, but here I am.

ENJOY~

*

He's been forced into retirement. At least, that's what he tells everyone for the first few years, unable to fight the urge to get out in the field at every opportunity and being shot down. He sticks around the academy, and they allow him to still teach and help the next generation of ninja grow into well-rounded shinobi, for two reasons: he's an incredibly skilled and talented ninja that can pass on all of his skills, and he goes absolutely stir crazy trying to find something to do with his life after finishing Icha Icha.

Truthfully, he'd finished the series within the first 48 hours of his retirement, then re-read the damn series twice over before he finally got sick of it all. He couldn't take the lack of, well, anything.

Throughout his life he's fought countless battles, lost loved ones, and even the war took its toll on his body and his mind. But he misses it. Misses the action, misses the rush and the thrill. He's restless. His fingers twitch when he's sitting for too long, his legs bouncing and tapping on the floor when he's stood still in the kitchen waiting for a meal to finish on the stove. Even cooking can't seem to keep him occupied enough.

But he manages, eventually. Runs and works out in almost all of his free time, waking up at the crack of dawn to train himself for nothing every morning. Cooks every single meal and even bakes more desserts than he could possibly eat in his lifetime, brings all of his extra cupcakes and pies to his students when he finally has a new class. Not a team, no, he's been relegated to indoor classroom settings only. Nothing that could get him out in the field. And he tries to read new books. Nothing really catches his eye though, not enough to gerner his attention like he needs it to.

But then you show up.

You, a pretty young thing that's moved from the Hidden Mist village to come teach the young about your own village's history. It's part of the new initiative Naruto put in, once he'd finally reached his dream of becoming Hokage and got the village back in order. You're part of a group of eight shinobi, two from each major village, who were assigned to Konoha to begin a sort of fusion between the villages. Eight of the leaf's shinobi were sent out to the other villages as well.

He'd only managed to notice you while he was dropping off some of those extra desserts he'd made to occupy his time. You caught his eye like sunlight through stained glass, displaying to the students a few water-style jutsu that the Mist had perfected long ago and passed down through generations. He was mesmerized. You moved like the tides, body fluid like water, graceful and powerful. Clearly you'd mastered these techniques on an entirely different level, the motions so fluent you could probably do them in your sleep.

That's all it took for him to latch onto you. He's infatuated, really. After watching the demonstration, he actually offers you and your students the lemon-raspberry cookies he'd made last night. He talked with you for what must have been hours after that, all your classes having finished for the day and you strolled through Konoha. It was your first day, you'd said, and you were still trying to figure out the layout of the village.

"It's a lot bigger than the Mist. I didn't know what to expect if I'm being honest. I got here yesterday afternoon, and got lost on the way to school this morning." You laugh then, and he finds himself laughing with you. He offers to give you an escort whenever you find yourself needing one, offers to show you all the good food and the prettiest spots to laze in the sun.

It's about three months in that he finds himself actively looking for you during his morning run through the village. Not around the village, not anymore, ever since you'd moved here. He changed his entire running route to be able to spot you if you'd gotten lost, and then detoured to get you back on the path to school. Hell, he even walks you all the way to the front door of your classroom.

It takes him far too long to admit to himself that he's developing romantic feelings for you.

And he's a little ashamed about the whole thing.

He knows he's getting older, mid-late forties, dangerously close to fifty but he won't admit that to anyone if they ask. If his hair weren't already white, it'd be noticeably graying. His body's gotten just a little softer with age, but he stays as active as he can. He won't deny he's no spring chicken.

But you're young, maybe a little over half his age, can't be older than thirty. It's...strange. You're younger than any of Team 7, who he considers his children, but somehow you've circumvented that entirely. Maybe it's because he hadn't watched you grow up, maybe it's because you seem so accomplished and put-together, maybe it's because he still feels like he's a younger man than he is. But it's strange.

It's strange, and he feels a little guilty, especially when he's all alone late at night and his mind wanders a little too far back to Icha Icha. Especially when he's tenting his boxers and rubbing one out to ease the tension and suddenly all he can see in his mind is you. Especially when the post-nut clarity hits him like a truck, because he knows what people say and think about an age gap that large.

"When have you ever cared about what other people think, Kakashi?" Yamato tilts his head, pulling the emptying bottle of sake from his white-haired friend's hands.

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Besides, if it helps at all, here's what I think. I think you're both fully grown adults, and as long as she actually wants to be in a relationship and you don't force her hand, there's absolutely nothing wrong with it." Kakashi's head hits the back of the cracked leather seat of the booth, a short sigh escaping him. Yamato is right.

And then he's yearning for you. Looking for your face everywhere, seeking you out whenever he finds another class to teach, visiting you after you finish your classes to drop off another tray of sweets. He's walked you home more times than he can count now, and he's watched your eyes light up as the sun sets behind the treeline and paints the sky in brilliant orange and pink hues. You'd never seen such beautiful sunsets. You say the Hidden Mist is always cloudy or shrouded in a thick fog, so the sky is always gray unless the sun is at its peak and can shine down enough to break through the mist.

He loves watching you watch the sun set. He loves watching you teach the kids. He loves watching you perform jutsu he's never seen before. He loves walking you to class every morning even though you already know your way around the village by now. He loves being in your presence, and hearing your voice, and seeing you smile and hearing you laugh at all his stupid jokes.

He's so far gone. The worst part is that he won't do anything about it. Because there's no way a pretty, young thing like you could be any kind of interested in someone like him. Aged, retired, his lease on life far from new. Not a chance you'd even consider him a suitor in any fashion.

Right?

"Hey, Kakashi?" He hums in response, walking alongside you as you two take a stroll after school. It's a route you two take often, after he'd shown you the best spots to watch the sky at sunset.

"You go running every morning, don't you? To keep in shape?" Another hum, but this time he's looking at you and your strangely mischievous expression. To your credit, you're trying your absolute hardest to keep your face neutral as you plan out your next moves.

"Why do you ask?" You shrug, but it's far from nonchalant. It's forced, as if you needed to pretend to be indifferent. You're scheming.

"Oh, no reason."

"Right." He doesn't believe you. Even as you lapse into silence for a few minutes, he can see the way your entire body is coiled, ready to take off like a spooked rabbit. But you're not afraid, no, you're excited about something. Then, you stop in your tracks, and face him head-on. His head tilts, and you reach out with one hand, your entire palm laying flat on his chest where his heart beats entirely too fast for the pace you'd been walking at. And your smile. It's so sweet, so innocent, and the little giggle that slips out makes his head light.

"Tag, you're it!" Then you're gone. He blinks, and you've vanished, having initiated a game he hasn't played in years. He can see you, still, where you're watching from a tree branch nearby. You wait to see if he'll chase, see if he's actually feeling up to this little game. His head snaps over to you and you wave over at him, wiggling your fingers. His heart races in his chest, his fingers trembling, his feet stepping toward the treeline.

He's excited. His body moves before his mind can really make the executive decision, and he's standing beside you on your branch. But only briefly, and you're gone again before he can reach out and tag you. His vision narrows, watching you as you slip away from him once he gives chase. It's exhilarating, stimulating his years of trained reflexes and triggering his muscle memory like nothing in the classroom or proctoring chunin exams could ever do. He doesn't even realize where the two of you end up when you finally stop and let his hand come down on your shoulder.

You giggle again, and it makes him freeze, his chest heaving and nerves buzzing. But he doesn't move to run after tagging you.

"You've still got it, old man." It's...are you...teasing him? Yes, he realizes, you are. Because you turn around and face him and lay your palm over his heart again with the sweetest little grin.

"Care to come inside?" He swallows around the lump in his throat, blinking down at you as you chew at your bottom lip. Cute. He can't speak, so he nods, and then his heart leaps into his throat when you laugh and slip your hand into his, lacing your fingers together to pull him into your apartment which he's only just now realized you'd stopped in front of.

"Don't be so nervous, Kakashi. I promise I'll be good and give your poor heart a break." That is an extremely dangerous thing for you to say at the moment, his restraint suddenly wearing thinner than rice paper. It makes him stop once you've dragged him inside, his head spinning suddenly with all the depraved thoughts running through his mind. And you, sweet thing you are, look confused and almost concerned as you look back at him, look up at him, where he's stuck in your entryway.

"Are you alright?" You reach up to place the back of your hand on his forehead, but he flinches away and grabs your wrist in his own large hand.

"Kakashi?" His breathing is shallow, his heart still going a mile a minute, his fingers tightening around your wrist. He can feel your own pulse, and he swears it's nearly as fast as his.

"Just give me a second, sweetheart. I'm trying to be a gentleman." The worry drops off your face like a dead weight. He can just barely see the corner of your mouth tug into a wicked smile.

"Maybe I don't want you to be a gentleman." Those eyes snap to yours in an instant, and...is that lust decorating your features? There's no way...

You're stepping toward him, and he steps back, releasing your wrist as you back him against the door.

"Maybe I want you to get naked in my bed." The words have him sweating. He chuckles, a nervous sound really.

"I thought you were going to give my heart a break." You hum, lean into his space and rest both palms on his chest, fingers spreading just to feel him. You sigh dramatically, turning back into your home and striding away with an extra sway to your hips. Pure temptation is what you are.

"I guess, being as old as you are you need a break huh? That poor ticker of yours is gonna give out if you're not careful." The way you eye him as you walk away has a tent forming in his pants. Fuck. You're right, his heart's gonna explode but it's not going to be from old age. He steps toward you, following you like a damn puppy, all the way to your bedroom where you turn and face him once again, a devious smile on your pretty lips.

"If I haven't made myself clear enough, Kakashi, here's another hint." He can't shut his eyes when you begin to undress in front of him. He wants so badly to give you privacy, to be a damn gentleman like he said. You're making that impossible. You're naked, completely bared to him and his gaze, dressed in nothing but pure sin. He doesn't back away when you approach him this time.

"You're a smart man, Kakashi. You've got all the information you need in that handsome head of yours. The question is: will you use that information to your advantage tonight?" He swallows, heat crawling over his skin the closer you get. Your naked breasts are pressing into his shirt and his fingers are itching to touch you.

"I don't want to take advantage of anything. Especially you." The admission makes you smile as you reach over and grasp his hands, tugging them and laying them on your very naked hips.

"Honestly, it feels like I'm the one taking advantage of you, with how little you're reacting to all of this." Thick fingers twitch, digging into your skin, and you loop your arms around his neck. He's going to die, and he won't even be mad about it.

Then he feels it, the slight tremor in your fingertips where they graze the hairs at his nape. There's the tiniest shake to your legs, the slightest pinch in your brows. Your bottom lip is being chewed once again, your jaw trembling. You're nervous. You're nervous like he is, waiting for him to reciprocate any of what you're giving him. Fuck. He's done for.

The little gasp you let out when he grasps your hips and twists, pinning you to the wall, fuels all of his movements. He's gained a new confidence.

"You're so pretty. Fuck, I can't believe this is real." You gasp again as he yanks his mask down and buries his face in your neck, licking up your pulsepoint and sucking a bruise into your skin.

"Fucking finally. You don't even know how long I've been dying to get you in here, Kakashi." He groans into you as you claw at his clothes, disrobing him as much as you can from where you're stuck beneath his palms.

"Oh yeah? You been thinking about me, pretty girl?" You nod, whine, unbutton his shirt and tug it down his shoulders. When he pulls back to look at you, you practically drool. He's still fit, sure, but there's a softness to him that you find irresistable. The layer of fat makes his gut pudge just a bit, and his arms are still bulging muscle but they're softened by time. He's bigger than you'd expected, wider and stronger and beefier.

"I want you to fuck me until I can't remember my own name." He almost cums in his pants, like a goddamn teenage virgin. All reservations are thrown promptly out the nearest window, his lips on yours in an instant. His hands are all over you, toying with your nipples and squeezing the flesh of your ass. Yours are in his hair, and he lifts you with ease only to drop you onto the bed. You whine when your bodies part, but then you watch him yank his belt off in record time and drop both his trousers and boxers to the floor.

He watches as your pupils dilate and black swallows up your irises.

What a fucking ego boost, huh?

You're about to crawl toward him, you desperately want to feel him in your throat, want to claw at his thighs and feel his fingers tug roughly at your hair as you suck him dry. Instead he crawls over you and pins you to the bed with one hand at your throat.

"Oh no, not tonight baby. I won't last." He kisses your pout away, then sucks more marks into your throat as he reaches down between your legs with thick fingers. The moan you let out has his hips jerking forward, one finger slipping effortlessly into your slick heat. You're absolutely drenched. You whine again, rocking your hips into his hand.

"Don't tease, 'Kashi. Please." Well when you beg so nicely, how could he refuse? A second finger is added, then a third, and when he curls them up and uses his thumb to rub circles into your swollen clit, your whole body arches off the sheets as your breath is nearly punched from your lungs. It doesn't take long at all before you're cumming all over his fingers, soaking his hand and your bed.

"Fuck, do that again, pretty thing." Legs shaking, chest heaving as you gasp for air, skin dewy with sweat from the quickest orgasm of your life. He's already moving, yanking you to the edge of the bed, ignoring your yelp completely as he kneels before you. You whine when you realize the position he's in.

"No fair." He chuckles, and you jolt, his breath hot over your still sensitive pussy.

"Sorry, sweetness. I can't help myself. Be a good girl and cum on my tongue." Then he's eating you out like you're his last meal. His nose nudges your clit with every movement, his deep moans vibrate through your body, and when his fingers find your clit again to give it some much-needed attention, you're falling apart again. Just like he asked. He can see everything from this angle, the way your thighs twitch as they clamp around his head, the way your stomach clenches so tight as you cum, the way your neck is completely exposed as your back arches beautifully off the bed. Sweat glistens over your skin, your hands clawing at his hair and the sheets beside your head.

He's too close to cumming.

Satisfied that you're wiped out, he crawls back over you and swipes a few stray strands of hair from your sweaty forehead. You're still trembling, two quick orgasms in a row making you feel like an exposed nerve ending.

"You okay, baby?" It takes you a second to refocus, but when you do you're beaming.

"Yeah, I'm great. Still want you to fuck me, though." He groans.

"You can't say things like that, love. I'll burst before I get near you." You chuckle, lay your head to the side.

"That's hot. Let me guess, you'll have to use a little blue pill to recover after that?" You damn minx. There's a little shriek that escapes you when he flips you over and yanks your hips up, pinning your face to the bed with one hand in your hair as he hunches over you.

"Careful, little girl, teasing me is dangerous. Wouldn't want to break you so soon." Desperate is how he'd describe your responding moan. With his dick pressed up against your cunt, he feels the way it clenches.

"Break me." Fuck. Fuck. In one hard thrust he's buried deep in your heat, your cunt gripping tight around him for dear life as you moan. He's not small, and the stretch has your eyes rolling back in your head, has your toes curling and your spine coiling tight.

He refuses to cum before you do. He's got an iron will, he refuses to cum early.

You're gasping as his hips slam into the fat of your ass, all the strength he possesses powering every thrust, hands bruising your hips as they claw into your skin like anything less would rip you away from him. He can see your face reddening. You've been fucked so dumb you forgot to breathe, and somehow that makes his cock throb inside you. He stills, curling over your back and burying himself so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Your eyes roll back into your skull almost painfully as he brushes your hair from your face, leaves a sweet little kiss on your cheek.

"Breathe, sweetheart. Can't have you passing out on me yet." Your gasp is shuddering, lungs barely inflating with the hiccupping breaths you take.

"There you go. Such a good girl for me, aren't you?" Then you're gone. He can feel you clench around his cock, feel your entire body go stiff and tremble as you cum. It's not a full orgasm, but it's intense, and you've been tipped right over the edge by the praise he'd whispered into your ear.

You're gone, and then he's gone.

He thrusts twice before letting go, filling you up with so much cum it leaks from between your legs and trails down the insides of your thighs in thick rivulets. You're still shaking as he pulls out of you and flips you over, petting your body as you come back down. Tears had fallen at some point, streaking your skin.

"How are you feeling, baby?" Your legs are trembling as you let them fall apart, exposing yourself to him again. The sight of you, absolutely ruined, his cum leaking from your cunt, has his cock painfully jumping to life again, just barely.

"Feel good. So good." Then, being the little temptress you are, you reach down between your legs and finger his cum back into you, moaning and jolting at the sensitivity. Then you bring your fingers to your lips and suck both your juices off the digits, not breaking eye contact with him.

"It's incredible how you can still want more after that." You whine, but smile.

"Of course I want more. I always want more of you. But you don't have to give me any more if you're not feeling up to it." He hums, low and throaty. It sends a very visible shiver up your spine.

"I didn't say that, baby." Effortlessly, he scoops you up and sits up against the headboard, tucking you into his lap with your legs spread over his. One of his massive arms bars over yours, pinning you against his chest while the other hand reaches down and begins toying with your clit. You jolt, still sensitive, squirming to try to get away from his deft fingers.

"What happened to always wanting more?" It's a tease to finally get back at you. It's his turn now, to fluster you and pull you apart. When you don't stop squirming and whining, his palm pulls away and comes back down, a swift smack catching your clit and you squeal.

"Stay still, baby girl. I'm only giving you what you wanted. Greedy little thing you are, don't back out on me now." You sob, your breathing hiccupped and quick while he rubs slow, deliberate circles over the sensitive bud, and you shake your head.

"Not backing out. Feels good, daddy." His hips buck, his moan is loud in your ear, guttural and wrecked. He didn't even think he'd like that kind of thing, but you. Damn it all. He smacks your pussy again, just a little harder, and your moans are matching his as your body recoils and arches as far off of his as you can manage beneath his brute strength. Another smack, another moan, you're shaking again. He's hard again. Harder than he's been in a long time, the throb in his dick constant and needy. He lifts your hips and lines up with you, then sinks you down on his length. You're crying, his dick curving up into your g-spot so well and his fingers toying with your clit making you dizzy.

"Come on, babygirl. Come on daddy's cock again, be good for me." He smacks your clit again, and he can feel every clench and flutter of your cunt around him. You're so close. He brings his hand down again, targeting your poor, swollen clit, his other hand dropping to press into the pouch of your stomach where he can feel his own dick through your belly, and that's all it takes for you to fall apart all over again. But this time, you're screaming, your body thrashing so hard he's having a hard time keeping you against his chest, and warm liquid sprays over his thighs and pools down over his balls. It all has him coming undone as well, a single low grunt before he's shoving his dick deep inside you and emptying whatever he's got left.

Then you're both boneless, panting, sweaty messes on your bed. It takes a long time for either of you to move, the sweat cooling over your bodies and making you both sticky. He thinks maybe you've fallen asleep, but is proven wrong when you whimper as you shift, his soft cock slipping from your cunt and making him hiss from the sensitivity. You roll over, off of him, and lay your head on his chest. Your laugh is light, but riddles with exhaustion.

"I think I almost died there, Kakashi." He snorts out a laugh, tugging you close.

"Glad I can make you feel good. You don't regret any of this?" It's adorable, how you tilt your head in confusion, lift yourself to hover above him.

"Why would I?" He shuts his eyes for the admission.

"I'm not exactly young, sweetheart. A lot of people would say I'm too old for you." You scoff, press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Like I give a damn what they think. I'm old enough to know what I want, and I'm also old enough to make my own decisions." One eye peeks open, staring up at you with more than a little hesitation. You only roll your eyes.

"If I didn't want this, I wouldn't have stripped naked in front of you in my own bedroom. Come on, I thought you were smarter than this Kakashi. Isn't old age supposed to come with wisdom?" He groans, dragging a hand down his face.

"Enough with the damn old jokes. It makes me feel..."

"Old?" He deadpans, you laugh.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop. For now." His sigh is heavy, but you know he loves the teasing. You lean down once again to give him a peck on the lips, then pry yourself from his grasp and yank him to stand with you.

"Come on, we gotta shower and I gotta change the sheets." His hum is amused as he looks back at the mess you made, then back at you as you drag him toward what he assumes is the bathroom.

[just-jordie-things]

try to understand - inumaki toge

word count: 15k warnings: swearing, canon typical violence, some canon divergence (toge still has one arm, most characters are a teacher at jujutsu tech) unedited leave me alone maybe i'll do it later summary: being misunderstood isn't new for inumaki toge. but when the girl he'd had a crush on since he was a teenager makes a reappearance in his life, he realizes he'd really, really like for her to understand him. more info: miscommunication trope bcuz it's toge... he's just a pining romantic !! strangers -> slight enemies -> reluctant friends -> lovers. reader is a feelings-blind, emotionally constipated lil idiot <3

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The Jujutsu Tech Exchange Event was stress inducing enough.  Being evaluated by the higher ups and pitted against peers in a test of cursed ability and strength put a lot of pressure on those who participated.  

Not that participation was ever a choice.

And to be honest, if it was a volunteer event, (y/n) would have some serious thinking to do.

It wasn’t that she doubted her abilities as a sorcerer.  She had all the confidence in the world with her mastered ability, but sometimes the weight of being a jujutsu sorcerer was so heavy she couldn’t even be sure it was the right path for her.

But it had to be, right? With her skill being more akin to raw talent, sorcery coming as natural to her as breathing, it must be what she was meant for, it just made sense like that.

So most days, she woke up, shook off the empty feeling of longing on her mind, and got right to work.  Whether it was training, studying, or a bright and early assignment, she stayed on top of things.  She couldn’t let a feeling slow her down, and she didn’t.

Still, she wished she could feel what her peers do.  Because whatever it was, Mai and Todo made it look pretty exhilarating.

Miwa, Mechamaru, Momo, and Noritoshi didn’t seem as interested in antagonizing the Tokyo students either, but they were content hanging out with the snacks they’d gotten from the vending machines without picking any fights.  (y/n) sat with them, slowly sipping on the fruity drink she’d gotten for herself in the hopes that it would gear her up for the event.

“Looks like things are heating up” Miwa says, her neck craning to get a better glimpse at what was going on between the noisy students.  It didn’t take a genius to know exactly what was going on, though.

Mai and Todo being their usual selves, that is.  (y/n) didn’t bother trying to watch the scene unfold.  Instead she just slumped further down into the grass.  If only she could sink underneath it, too.

“Should we intervene?” Momo asks, but she doesn’t seem any more interested in (y/n).  Laid back on her broom with her hands behind her head, she was the image of disinterest.

There wasn’t a chance (y/n) was getting involved in any of this.  The only thing she had her sights set on was a solid nap after today’s event was over.

The event itself was the same as last year… and every year before that.  A bunch of egotistical sorcerers running around in the woods, eac trying to exorcize more curses than the last.  Of course, these last couple of times had more of an edge to them than usual.  With Mai always gunning for her sister- literally- there was an added layer of bloodlust.  And god forbid Todo found any of his opponents boring.  He’d take all the ‘friendly’ out of friendly competition.

Perched in a spot she wouldn’t call great for hiding but she didn’t necessarily care, (y/n) had her chin in her hand to keep her head up.  She’d fall asleep right there if she could.  A part of her wished that Tokyo’s Special Grade Okkotsu Yuuta would show up, just to put this whole silly thing to an end as quickly as he did last year.  Her peers weren’t so happy about him, or Rika, being involved in the Exchange Event, but that day he was (y/n’s) hero.

Lazily, her eyes swept over the area below her.  No one had ventured this way since she’d climbed this tree, and if she was lucky, she might be able to sit here until the whole thing was over.  She could only dream.

But all good things must come to an end, and soon enough the unmistakable sound of footsteps came running towards her tree.  She perked up, just a little, and only because it was a surprise that whoever was rushing into her neck of the woods clearly wasn’t doing so with the intention of going unnoticed.

Swinging her legs a bit, (y/n) peeked down below her, trying to catch a good look at who it was.  Surely not one of her peers, they had to be a Tokyo student.

Sure enough, an unfamiliar head of blonde hair came bounding into the clearing just below her tree.  Of the Tokyo students she was familiar with- Maki, Panda, Fushiguro, and she supposed Yuuta- this wasn’t one of them.  So she played it safe by remaining silent.

It crosses her mind that any of her fellow sorcerers would’ve taken this chance to go head to head with their abilities. They’d probably think she was wasting an opportunity by letting this boy run by without a fight.  The thought doesn’t linger long.  She’s not bothered much by what others might think of her.  She knows that if she wanted to, she could take any sorcerer on in a fight.  She just… didn’t care much to use her cursed technique where it wasn’t necessary.

At first all she can see is the blonde hair.  He seems to hesitate once in the clearing, doing a quick sweep to make sure there wasn’t another sorcerer hiding amongst the brush.  (y/n) holds her breath, but not once does he lift his head to check amongst the trees.  She’s in the clear.

From the little bit that he looks around himself, she notices that his uniform includes a tall black collar which covers the bottom half of his face.

It doesn’t take much else to put two and two together.  This was the Cursed Speech user she’d been warned about.  From the Inumaki Clan.  She holds her breath once more.

Mai had told her long winded and horrific things about the Inumaki Clan.  Stories similar scary tales told around the campfire.  Except they were all cramped up in the car that brought them to Tokyo.  If it was a scare tactic to keep everyone away from Tokyo’s Cursed Speech user, (y/n) couldn’t say it was all that fear inducing.

That doesn’t mean she didn’t have her curiosities.

“Jump down” 

It was an experience like no other.  Any thought on her mind was erased.  Her held breath was expelled just as quickly as she was releasing her secure hold on the branch, and before she knew it she was leaping right off, without a care for being noticed.  Had she been less experienced in acrobatics, she might’ve sprained an ankle from the ten foot drop.  Lucky her that a lifetime of training meant she landed as gracefully as she would’ve had she jumped on her own volition.

And it was quick too- just as soon as she’d realized the hold that Cursed Speech had on her, she was already free of it’s effects and was level headed again.  At least enough to take a step backwards to put some distance between herself and the Tokyo student who’d caught her red handed.

However she quickly noticed that the Inumaki boy wasn’t in an offensive stance.  He wasn’t really in any stance at all- he just stood there, watching her with seemingly the same amount of curiosity as she watched him.

(y/n) doesn’t mean any offense, but it’s hard not to stare.  With a collar hiding the lower half of his face, his eyes felt all the more piercing.  As if he had full access to her mind whether he spoke or not.

Using her own cursed technique crosses her mind, but it’s a distant thought, as if the competition at play isn’t happening at all.

She’s not sure she’s ever met anyone with such deep violet eyes before.

It’s ridiculous to wait for him to say something.  But she stands there with more impatience than she’s ever felt before.

“Aren’t you going to knock me out or something?” She asks when she realizes he’s still just going to stand there.

Inumaki blinks, mabe pondering it for a moment, before he shrugs.  (y/n) hardly knows what to do with that, and despite knowing he’s not going to give her any proper explanation, she still seems to wait for something more than a shrug.

So with a careful eye she steps back a little further, just to see if he’d make any move on removing her from the game.  But no matter how many small steps she took, Inumaki didn’t move.  He barely seemed to care.  Didn’t he know he had the unbeatable technique? If he wanted to, he could put her to sleep right now.

With one last glance, (y/n) finally turned and booked it towards the thickest bundle of trees with the most coverage.  It was clear that he wasn’t going to attack her, and it shouldn’t have surprised her that he didn’t seem to be following after her either.  What was his deal? What was Tokyo’s strategy if it wasn’t wiping out the competition? She couldn’t make any sense of it, so for now she’d just have to find a new spot to hide out until the event was over.  Or became more interesting.

It never really crossed her mind that she hadn’t tried to attack him, either.

The event did get more interesting.  Although it wasn’t an exciting turn, (y/n) did find herself suddenly thrown into engaging herself.

How curses and curse users managed to get through the barrier around Jujutsu Tech, she didn’t understand.  Critical thinking however was out the window as soon as that Special Grade Tree showed up.

With a less than formal introduction to Itadori, she found herself wrapped up with him and Todo.  Perhaps the last place she wanted to be- she hated the dizzying effect of his cursed technique- but it was where she found herself.  So she gave it her all, even when the turn for the worst took a detour towards chaos.

It was a strange feeling though, in the thick of the fight and expecting the worst, there was finally a spark within her.  Something buzzing like static electricity was starting to take form.  A small zap at first, an eagerness to play on the offense, and it seemed the more she chased that electric buzz, the more it grew.  There was no denying that something had changed in her demeanor- the others could see it in the way she stopped pulling her punches.  That’s not to mention the grin on her face growing more unhinged like a snarl with every move she made.

That little buzz had ignited into an all out fire, and soon she grew blind to everything but the fight.

Was this passion? Was this finally her eye opening moment to the pleasure of knowing and loving what she’s meant to do? The thoughts were muddled amongst the overwhelming urge to finish this off, to exorcize, to win.  She’s never felt a desire this strong, never sought out a victory quite like this, and it was just barely out of reach, right at the tips of her fingers- 

“Run away!” 

And just as (y/n’s)cursed energy began to materialize around her hands, it was disappearing.  Her body swiveled on it’s own accord, facing her in the other direction and pumping her legs into the motion of running all before she could process that this wasn’t her own doing.  It was cursed speech.  Again.

Her deranged grin fell into a sour grimace as she found herself full sprinting towards the other side of campus, other sorcerers in tow feeling just as useless as they were forced away from the fight.

What was once a burning passion turned into a bitter cold resentment.  All she could think as she ran away from the fight was how dare Inumaki dismiss her? The bitterness in her mood only festered the more she grew to blame him for sending her away.

The next time their paths cross, she’d make sure to give him a piece of her mind.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 5 YEARS LATER  ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

Coming back to Jujutsu Tech Tokyo wasn’t exactly a choice (y/n) would have made for herself, she could admit that.

She’d never wanted to become a teacher.  The idea of continuing the cycle of turning young people into jujutsu sorcerers made her stomach knot.  So no matter how persistent the Kyoto and Tokyo branches were- she wanted nothing to do with it.  She’d continue her own work- privately- exorcizing curses for a living, but she swore she’d bite the curb before getting involved any further than that.

Curb, meet (y/n).

Standing outside the grand double doors that was the main entrance to the Tokyo school, she couldn’t help but let her shoulders sink.  Since graduating a few years ago and entering the real world as an adult, (y/n) had spent most of her time alone.  Living alone, working alone- she’d quickly learned it was the only way to be when you’re a jujutsu sorcerer.  Letting people in was a risk, getting attached to someone was a risk, it felt like it was just easier to function as a singular unit.  No one to look out for but herself.

The doors opened before she could even knock.  Before she even gave turning around and disappearing a second thought.

“(y/l/n)!” 

Itadori Yuji was just as she remembered him.  So outgoing it would be inappropriate if he wasn’t completely genuine.  With a large grin he ushered her inside, his mouth running a hundred miles a minute, going on about how long it had been, how she was doing, how he was doing, how happy he was to see her in Tokyo.

“I mean, it’s been what, five years? You look great! Here follow me, the others are waiting just down here…” 

It’s only then that she finally finds her voice and cuts off his eager rambling.

“Others?” She repeats the word her mind had caught onto.  “I thought this was a quick in and out sort of thing” 

Yuji could be dense at times, but he didn’t miss the way her eyes narrowed on him with an accusatory glare behind them.  So with a smile that seemed more sheepish than reassuring, he waved his hand in a dismissive manner and blew a raspberry.  (y/n’s) expression didn’t waver.

“In and out, two weeks, it’s all relative, right?” He joked, and now she’s gaping at him with widened eyes that seemed all the more upset.

“Two weeks?” Her voice raises just a little, not enough to yell, but enough that her exasperation was evident.  “Itadori, you said you just needed a bit of a fill in, two weeks is not a fill in!” 

He’s walking faster down the hall, not that it was difficult for (y/n) to keep up with him.  Two pairs of loafers clicking loudly and quickly against the tile, they almost looked like they were playing a game of chase.

“My hands are tied here, it’s really not up to-” 

Just as Itadori lifts his hands in mock surrender, he’s frozen in place, a familiar energy coursing through his body that keeps him stuck like a statue.

(y/n) finally gets in front of him, with her hands encased in cursed energy and a scowl on her face.

“You’re being dodgy,” She states, eyeing the way he clearly tries to fight her cursed technique to no avail.  “Why do you really need me here for two weeks?” 

When she’d gotten a call from an unknown number a few days ago, she hadn’t expected to hear Itadori Yuji.  She also hadn’t expected to hear him reaching out for help, backup as he called it.  “It’ll be so quick, in and out!” He’d promised.  “And then you can go home and I won’t bother you again!” 

Why she’d actually agreed to fly out to Tokyo for this mystery backup, she wasn’t sure.  Something must have clouded her judgment at that moment.  Now she just feels like facepalming.  How ridiculous was she for not asking more questions?

“Okay, okay,” Yuji huffs, clearly fighting hard against the stun of her cursed energy.  He’d seen it in action once or twice, but that would have happened years ago, and he certainly never felt it’s effect on himself before.

Paralyze was an interesting technique, with the ability to stun anything she pleases, (y/n) could render her enemies frozen and helpless with a slight wave of her hand.  Of course, it’s effects only last as long as she’s capable of holding them still.  The stronger the opponent, the weaker her technique.  So it doesn’t take long before Yuji’s squirming out of it’s hold, and soon (y/n) drops her technique completely.

“In case you haven’t noticed… we’re low on sorcerers around here,” He admits defeatedly.  (y/n) stays quiet, she didn’t need to say that she’d obviously noticed the empty halls and echo of every noise they made.  “Fushiguro’s busy with Zen’in politics, and ropes Maki into it more than she cares to be involved.  Okkotsu’s never free from assignments, Kugisaki and I take everything he can’t… we’re stretched thin, you know?” 

(y/n) nods in understanding, but she’s still waiting for him to explain the part where she comes in.

“And you need me to…? Take some exorcisms off your plate?” She tries to fill in the blank, but judging by the half wince Yuji gives her, she supposes her guess is wrong.

“Well… we actually need someone to help with the training aspect of-” 

“Not teaching” Her voice is monotone as she hopes he’s not about to tell her she’s been called here to chaperone a bunch of kids.

“Teaching…” Yuji finishes slowly, drawing out the word as if it will make the blow less painful.  It only makes it more painfully awkward.

“Itadori-!” Just as she starts to scold him, upset that she’s been lured out here under false pretenses, only to be asked to do the one thing she’d sworn she’d never do, they’re greeted by the rest of their company.

“(y/l/n)-san! Long time no see!” 

Panda is as warm of a presence as ever, though (y/n) had only met him a handful of times, he greets her as if they were long time friends being reunited.  For a brief moment, she actually relaxes.

And then she sees him.

Inumaki Toge somehow looks exactly the same, and like a completely different person from the last time she’d seen him.  His hair was a little shaggier, still covering his forehead and just barely sweeping over the deep violet eyes that feel more familiar than they should.  He still wears a collar with his uniform, a soft looking gray material that sits above the crisp black jacket that matches hers.

The more noticeable change, however, is his lack of a right arm.  (y/n) tries not to stare directly at the space where his bicep ends and his forearm was supposed to begin, but she’s sure he notices the way her eyes dart to and from the missing limb, quickly looking back at his face again.

She’s not too thrilled about looking at him at all, so she directs her attention back towards Panda, clearing her throat of the lump that seemed to form in the matter of seconds.

“Hi,” She greets him, and only him it seems, before going right into the matter at hand.  “Look, it’s not that I don’t want to help you out here-” 

“I’m so glad you came!” Panda cheers like she’s doing him the favor of the century.  “We really need all the help we can get, but I just want the best of the best!” 

(y/n) swallows thickly before another lump can form.

“And I knew you’d help out.  Besides, we can finally catch up! It’s been a long time” Panda continues chatting despite the clear discomfort on (y/n’s) face.  She wonders if he’s trying to guilt her, or if he’s just so delusional in thinking this was some special reunion.  She really hardly knew the Tokyo students back then.

Maki was probably the only one she’d be all that comfortable with, and she was nowhere to be found.

(y/n) shifted her weight back and forth, trying to find the right thing to say that would get her out of here as fast as possible.

“We can have some tea and chat about what your role will look like for the time being-” 

“I can’t” She blurts out.  Wrong thing to say.  The hallway feels even more empty now, her short words echoing off the high ceilings, leaving no room for misinterpretation between the other three sorcerers.

“Huh?” Panda hums, his head tilted to the side in his confusion.  “You can’t stay?”

“Look, I’m sorry and all, but when you called me I thought you needed help with a curse, okay? Not…” Her hands wave around vaguely gesturing to the space around them.  “Playing teacher” 

Inumaki snorts, and her eyes flicker towards him almost challengingly, as if asking what she’d said so wrong, but there was nothing but amusement in the part of his expression she could see, and she turns back towards Panda.

“I’m no use for that, alright?” She sighs.  “I would’ve told you, had I known, but this one-” Her finger points towards Itadori, who suddenly looks like he’s been caught red handed, “Decided to be cryptic. So,  Sorry, but no” 

“I see,” Panda replied, sounding like some of his energy had been drained by her rejection.  “Well, we could still have that tea?” 

She should’ve turned down that offer as well, because tea led to chatting, and chatting led to bonding, and it wasn’t long before Panda was pushing his offer again.

“It’s just… the kids could really use some help with their training…” He says as he stares into the near empty cup in his paw.  Somehow it looks even smaller when held by him.  “They’re good kids, you know? Respectful, kind… it would be so simple… monitoring some cursed technique use, maybe going on some Grade Four assignments…” 

(y/n) stares boredly at him as he goes on, describing the job like it’s the simplest position in the world.  As if she couldn’t remember watching the stress of it affect her own teacher back in the day.  Utahime’s frown lines were irreversible now.  Although that could partially be due to her Tokyo counterpart…

Her tired gaze shifts towards Yuji, who’s holding his mug in both hands and grinning from ear to ear.  Too hopeful for his own good.  The corners of her lips twitch, an undeniable urge to reciprocate his boundless joy.  She has to look away from him.

Inumaki appears less interested in the whole scheme.  He’d leaned away from the table as soon as he’d finished his tea.  With his hand planted behind him to keep him propped up, he’s the image of disinterest.  He’s not even watching Panda’s attempts at swaying (y/n’s) opinion, his eyes wandering the common room’s wall.  (y/n) finds herself also checking out the wall, trying to find whatever could hold his attention more than his friend’s useless rambling.  Besides a few picture frames and worn wallpaper, she can’t find anything worth her attention.

But when she turns away from it, Inumaki must have also lost interest, because he was looking directly at her.  She freezes up for a moment, a feeling eerily similar to her own cursed technique, before it creeps away and she finds herself averting her gaze as rapidly as she’s able.

Which lands her looking right back at Panda, who’s watching her with an open mouthed grin, clearly awaiting an answer to a question she hadn’t heard.

Shit, she hadn’t been listening?

“What did you say?” She asked, her eyebrows raising with a small hum at the end of her question.

“I’ll make sure that you aren’t bothered like this again,” Panda repeats his earlier statement.  “If we weren’t at the end of our rope, I wouldn’t be asking like this now… but it seems this is just the position we’ve found ourselves in,” He sighs, furry shoulders slumping.  “I’m just trying to do what I can to provide the best resources for these youngsters but I’m only one panda, and the world will always need sorcerers out there to-” 

“Alright then” 

In an instant, three pairs of eyes land on her, shock evident in all of them.  She can’t pretend to be surprised by their astonishment, as she’d been pretty stubborn prior to now.  She could say that she had a change of heart, that he swayed her with his kind words and positive outlook on guiding the students in his care.  

But truthfully? She didn’t think she’d forgive herself if she made Panda cry.

“You- you mean it?” Panda asks, disbelief evident in his tone, and in the way his mouth stayed hanging open.

“Yes,” She can’t help a short laugh escaping through her exhale.  “On the condition you don’t ask me any more favors” She adds, her finger in the air as she awaited Panda’s confirmation.

“Heard! Deal!” He hollered, his gape turning into a grin as his paw snatched up her hand and shook it wildly.  “You don’t understand how much this means, (y/l/n)-san!” 

“Oh, I’m starting to” She says with a wince of a smile as she pulls her hand away, flexing her sore fingers.

“I’ll show you where you’ll be staying!” Yuji leaps up from the ground and is at the door before (y/n) could even stand.  “And I’ll let someone know you’ll need a few changes in uniform, too” He adds as an afterthought, noticing her already wrinkled jacket from the last hour of sitting hunched over on the ground for tea.

Briefly glancing between Panda and Inumaki, she realizes she’s left with no choice but to get up and follow after Yuji, who seemed to be treating the whole ordeal like it was Christmas day.

Whether or not she could feel Inumaki’s gaze following her as she stood and left, she didn’t make clear.  Nonetheless his eyes lingered at the door even once she’d gone.

It’s not until Panda lets out a full belly laugh that the cursed speech user is pulled back into reality, and he furrows his brows at his old friend.

“Bonito flakes” He mutters with a shake of his head, before getting up and stretching his arm.  Leaning all of his weight on it for a while had it feeling tender, but the scowl on his face was completely due to Panda.

“What?” Panda asks, his voice hitting a higher octave, knowing exactly why his friend was being snarky.  “You stared at her the whole time, I’m not even sure you blinked!” 

Toge rolls his eyes just as he rolls his shoulder to work out the soreness.  So full of shit, he thinks, but he can’t help the growing smile behind his collar, as he can’t exactly deny the accusation.

But what can he say? He’d only met the girl for a short time, years ago, and it was enough to leave a lasting impression.  At least enough that he was eager to meet her again- even if she didn’t share the thrill of her visit.  He’d just have to find a way to help her enjoy her time here.

“Good luck getting her to actually enjoy it here,” Panda huffs, reading his mind as always.  Toge gives him a curious look, waiting for any bright ideas.  Unfortunately, Panda wasn’t exactly optimistic about (y/n’s) time here.  “Maki calls her the off grid sorcerer for a reason,” 

Toge wants to call him out on that, because sometimes Maki does saki bombs and likes to gossip, but for some reason, the words fail him.

“She’s dodged every request to teach, or even show up at any events held at the schools,” Panda explains.  “Maki says she hates jujutsu sorcery” 

That earns another eye roll from Toge.  It just didn’t make sense, who could she hate jujutsu sorcery, when she was actively still a jujutsu sorcerer?

“Ikura” Toge dismisses him with a lame wave of his hand.  It was stupid, and he wasn’t going to get into a stupid argument.  Maybe it was silly to feel this defensive over a high school crush that probably barely remembered him, but if Panda was going to be this childish, then so could he.

“Fine, do your best,” Panda says, standing to follow his friend out of the room.  “But I’d be impressed if you found a way to make her feel otherwise” 

Challenge accepted, Toge thinks to himself as he meanders back towards his own quarters.  

Step one would be getting to know her, properly, like he’d wanted to years ago.  And step two would be finding a way to make her stay.

That couldn’t be too hard, could it? 

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

(y/n) never forgot the revenge she swore she’d take on Inumaki had she ever seen his face again.  She can’t ignore the small spike of bitterness in her chest whenever she sees him.

But she’s not sure what to do with that feeling now.

She’s standing in the classroom that supposedly belonged to Maki when she was around.  It was empty, too early for any students to arrive just yet, but she’d wanted to get there early.  That way she’d be settled in and ready for whatever this day was going to be.  She’d been mulling over what she was supposed to do when the students got here for so long that she’s not sure when she’d wandered to the window and began to watch the scene below.

Outside, Inumaki is standing on the steps with three students- probably his students- and he’s making various rapid hand movements.  Wait, was that sign language? She was on the second story, so even if she’d opened the window she probably wouldn’t have heard what they were talking about, but even without listening in, it seemed that the students understood their teacher perfectly.

She was certain he hadn’t used any sign language yesterday, she tried to recall the events of the day, but it was so fast paced and confusing from start to finish that she just couldn’t remember any communications from Inumaki’s end.

Besides a sarcastic chuckle.

“Are you (y/l/n)-senpai?” 

She almost jumps as she turns around, not having heard the footsteps approaching the classroom.

There stood two students, a boy and a girl, each wearing the same uniform.  The familiar black jackets and crisp slacks had her stomach knotting up with the realization of what she was doing here.

“Just (y/l/n),” She corrects, her voice sounding a bit strained.  She clears her throat before any more weird sounds could be made.  “I’m not your teacher, I’m just… filling in” 

“So… like a substitute teacher?” The boy deadpans.

Great.  He’s got an attitude.  If only she were Mai, she’d have that snark smacked out of his tone with one, well, smack.

“Hardly.  More of a supervisor,” (y/n) replies with a tight lipped smile.  “So… what is it you’re working on right now?” 

“Cursed techniques” The girl replies.  Her voice is much softer than her snarky little friend.  There’s a politeness in it that (y/n’s) grateful for.  She’s not really looking for these kids to respect her, but if they were nice it’d definitely make the next couple weeks go by smoothly.

“Easy enough,” (y/n) shrugs.  “Why don’t you explain your techniques to me and we’ll go from there” 

As she should have expected, it was not easy enough.  All those two did was argue, and when they weren’t arguing, they were struggling through their cursed techniques like a five year old getting their training wheels taken off.  If that five year old was blind and toppled off the bike and broke both legs in the process.  (y/n) found herself ready for a beer by lunchtime, and she wasn’t even sure if there was any alcohol on campus.  She’d have to do a grocery run later for some necessities.  If every day was going to be like this, she’d need a twenty-four pack.

She’d come out to the lawn for her lunch break, a blank notebook and pen in hand with the hopes of drawing up some kind of lesson plan.  A grocery list seemed more like the pressing matter now, though.

It must just be a spacey day for her, because when Inumaki Toge approaches the table, she realizes she hadn’t noticed him until he was standing right there before her.  His hand is in his pocket, and despite his face being half covered, she can tell he’s wearing a kind look.

Not knowing how she felt about him yet, she shifts in her seat on the bench.  She’s sure it’s rude to stare, and it’s dumb to expect him to explain what he wanted, but she’s not sure what to say either.

“Mustard leaf?” 

Huh?

Her confusion must’ve been evident, because Inumaki pulls his hand out of his pocket and points at her notebook and pen.

“Oh,” She mumbles absentmindedly, before passing the pen and paper to him.  “Is that how you ask for things?” 

She cringes at her own question, and if she wasn’t already embarrassed she would have smacked her hand to her head, too.  Inumaki doesn’t seem bothered though, as he just nods his head and begins to write in her notebook.

When he hands it back to her he keeps hold of her pen.  Was this his way of trying to have a conversation? This time she’s not stupid enough to actually ask that, but her curiosity gets the best of her as she grabs the notebook to read what he wrote quickly.

Hi.

Her eyes flicker between the page and him a few times, disbelief turning her lips into a small smile.

“Hi…” She replies, quieter than intended.

Inumaki chuckles, and beckons her to pass the notebook back to him.  (y/n) has a feeling the rest of her lunch hour would look like this.  This time she watches him as he scrawls on the page again, and this time it seems he’s writing more than two letters.

With his attention on his writing, she doesn’t feel so worried about staring at his bright violet eyes.  The last time she’d really gotten a good look at them was five years ago, and she was sure she’d never seen anyone with eyes quite like his.  That still holds true.

Inumaki passes the notebook back again.

Are you having a good first day? 

She snorts, and Inumaki takes that to mean it wasn’t a great start.

“I couldn’t have been more clear that I wasn’t meant to be a teacher,” (y/n) shakes her head, and leans back a bit into the bench.  Inumaki’s eyes shift to the space next to her, and she finds herself shifting to make room for him to sit.  He doesn’t need a verbal offer in order to sit beside her.  “I don’t understand how anyone could enjoy this”

Inumaki holds his hand out for the notebook once more, and (y/n) passes it to him.  She wonders if he ever got tired of communicating like this.  But just as the question passes her mind, she’s sure he’s grown used to the exhaustion of living this way long ago.  So she begins to wonder when he began to accept it.  As he writes, she realizes she actually has a lot of curiosities surrounding him.

The old bitterness begins to chip away the more she lets her mind wander.  Maybe that bitterness was childish and stupid, anyways.  Or, maybe it was just that she was a child when that grudge had taken form.

Toge passes her the notebook again.  She can’t see that he’s smiling, but there’s crinkles at the corners of his eyes that tell her he must be.

Have you tried drinking on the job? 

(y/n) glances between the note and Toge, who seems to be barely holding it together behind his mask.  It’s not until she lets out the faintest of laughs that he begins to cackle, shaking his head asif to say ‘I’m just kidding!’ as though she couldn’t have put that together.

Maybe Inumaki Toge wasn’t at all who she thought he was.  

It sort of turned out that she hadn’t known him at all.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

It didn’t take long for a little routine to be established.  It seemed to have happened without anyone’s say in it.  (y/n) would find a spot for lunch and Inumaki just seemed to gravitate towards that spot.  They’d eat their lunches and grade papers together while passing a notebook back and forth for communication, and it just seemed to… work.  

Some days (y/n) would even write her responses underneath his own written words.  Sometimes it just seemed like the fair thing to do, but she couldn’t deny, the peace and quiet could be nice.

Toge has to tap the end of his pencil against the table a few times to get (y/n) to snap out of her brain fog and finally notice the note he’d written her.  She gives him an apologetic look once consciousness had brightened her eyes again, before directing her attention to the notebook.

Toge smiles to himself, already going back to the paper he was grading.

I’ve got an assignment in Yokohama later.  Just a Grade Two though.  Want to come with? :)

(y/n’s) brow lifts in his direction, but he’s too busy reading one of his students’ work to notice.  Her eyes only liner for a few extra seconds before she makes a hum to get his attention.  He mimics the hum.

“All this work aging you faster? Is that what you’re telling me?” She asks.  Her finer absentmindedly taps at his neat handwriting.  “Can’t handle assignments alone anymore?” 

Inumaki scoffs, his eyes briefly flickering away from his work, just long enough to show his lack of amusement with her dry form of teasing.  He doesn’t get much more done before he’s bringing their talking notebook back to his side of the table and writing in it again.  (y/n) doesn’t bother to go back to her own work.  After five days of this little routine she’s come to realize this block of time in her day wasn’t meant for getting work done.  It was meant for… 

She gets the feeling Inumaki’s smiling to himself under his collar.

… whatever this was.

He looks up at her when he’s finished, catching her eyes already on him, and he’s sure that she blushes just a little bit, but any trace of it is gone when she reaches over for the notebook and lifts it to read.  A strategic choice to cover the lower half of her face.  Toge tries not to feel too defeated, it’s only fair after all.

I meant to hang out, dummy.  I don’t mean to brag you’d only slow me down out there.  But I do know a great tea shop.

She’s glad that the notebook hides her face, because she can’t have him seeing how quickly a few words can make her smile.  Only of course because she doesn’t want him getting the wrong idea.

There’s been a few occurrences of that feeling in the past couple days of spending her lunch breaks with Inumaki.  An odd feeling, like there’s a lump in her throat, but her heartbeat starts to get ahead of itself.  It’s like adrenaline, but seemingly without a cause.  So far she’d been able to brush the feeling off, trying not to think too much of it.

“You would be grateful if you had a partner like me out there,” She says matter of factly, before dropping the notebook back on the table.  “Sending you on a Grade Two mission, you almost have to wonder if the higher ups think you’re slow enough on your own?”

That earns her another scoff, this time accompanied by an even longer blank stare.  She has to bite back her smile before it can grow too wide, but she can’t help a little laugh at his uninterested expression.  For as much of a jokester as Inumaki was, he sure didn’t react when he was the one being teased.

“Yeah yeah, I hear you,” (y/n) huffs, finally looking back at her stack of papers that she should’ve graded by now.  “Tea does sound good.  Let me know when you’re headed out later” 

Again, she ignores the fluttery feeling when they swap phones to exchange numbers so they could form a plan later.  It was unrelated, she’s sure.  But she’s still not so sure what that feeling was all about to begin with.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

There was a skip to Inumaki’s step that couldn’t go unnoticed, especially not by his colleagues, who happened to watch him heading out to the courtyard and decided to involve themselves without even a single word shared.

“I’ve never seen you off to a mission so jazzed!” Itadori practically sings, his grin wide, his eyebrows dancing, oh, he’s so onto him.

“Bonito flakes” 

“So you didn’t brush your hair before going on an assignment?” Panda accuses, but his paw gets swatted away before he can run his hand through the luscious blonde locks of perfectly clean and dried hair.  

No one showers before an assignment.  What’s the point?

“Bonito flakes!” Toge repeats himself a little louder this time, his eyes darting around the area to be sure no one else was around to hear this interaction.

This doesn’t go unseen by his friends- who seem extra persistent on bothering him today.

“Oh wow! So it’s like a… date assignment?” Itadori asks.  He makes the extra effort to also ensure no one else was lingering around, his grin only growing as he checks over both shoulders before lowering his voice.  “That sounds hot, good for you man” 

Toge rolls his eyes, then shakes his head.

“What are you up to then?” Panda asks.

“It’s not a date?” Itadori’s grin falls into a frown.

Toge’s hand moves in a swift motion, from a fist with his thumb jutted out to his palm up so quick if you’d blink you would’ve missed it.  Somehow he’d managed to pour as much attitude into his signed question of ‘how?’ in one little hand movement as possible.  It’s clear it works too, because Panda winces and Itadori begins to scratch the back of his neck.

Sure, Inumaki had been excited to spend some time with (y/n) away from the school.  Maybe he had taken a shower before his assignment, so what? It was normal to want to be presentable right? He just wanted to be decent company…

“Oh, you’ve got it bad!” Panda hollers, not seeming to care that his voice booms and echos off the high ceiling, likely bouncing down all the corridors for anyone to hear.

Today, Toge is grateful that jujutsu society is dying.

“Bonito flakes!” He hisses, smacking his bear friend as hard as he could.  It wasn’t hard enough, as the belting laughter was even louder than his voice.

“Not too hard to find you guys, huh?” 

Toge doesn’t hide the fact that he nearly leaps out of his skin as he swivels around to see (y/n) standing there, an amused look on her face as she eyes the laughing pair, before turning towards the cursed speech user with a more curious expression.  Being a sorcerer of his caliber, she was surprised she was able to startle him at all.  But it’s clear when his eyes first land on her, it’s as if he’s seen a ghost.

He’s quick to calm down, relaxation returning to his shoulders and the only tension remaining in his body coming from the worry that his so called friends were going to say something stupid like- 

“Wow you’re in uniform! Haven’t seen Toge take up a partner in a while.  Unless Yuuta’s around,” Panda says, and (y/n) merely shrugs, looking over her usual attire.  “You’re probably a better date than Yuuta, though” 

“Ikura” Toge hisses, side eyeing his oldest friend with a look in his eye warning him that his next words wouldn’t be rice ball ingredients.

“I think Yuuta would be a good date” Yuji said thoughtfully, eyes wandering about as though he were really considering the date-ability of the older sorcerer.

It does the trick in moving the group’s attention away from the previous awkward thing, this one being far more enticing to latch onto, and while normally Toge would participate in the goofing off, at the moment he can only feel relief that (y/n) hadn’t seemed to dwell on the ‘date’ comment.

“He’d be a good date if he could sit down for long enough to actually date” Panda replies, and it’s not long before he and Yuji have launched themselves into an argument about it.

In the heat of the fight, (y/n’s) eyes catch Toge’s, and it only takes one motion of her head before they’re both speeding out of there.

“I didn’t realize they were crushing on Okkotsu so hard,” She’s the first to speak, once they’re far enough away there’s no chance of anyone overhearing.  “If I knew him better I would’ve given my two cents” She added in a near mutter, clearly meant for her own amusement under her breath, but Toge heard and asked about it anyways.

“Mustard leaf?” 

“Like I said, I don’t really know the guy-” She started to protest, but Toge clearly had invested an interest in her opinion.

“Mustard leaf mustard leaf mustard leaf-” 

“Alright!” She has to shout over his incessant pestering.  “He seems like a good guy and all but he’s not… my preference in company.  Is that good enough?” 

His collar is zipped up as per usual, but his cheeky grin seems to permeate through it anyways.  (y/n) has to roll her eyes to remind him just how ridiculous of a conversation this was.  Reiterating the fact that she’d barely met Okkotsu Yuuta once didn’t seem to do the trick in explaining that she couldn’t exactly form an opinion on him when they hadn’t even been introduced to one another, merely crossed paths back in the day when the end of the world seemed to closing in.

“Salmon cod roe” 

But the world hadn’t ended.  And now somehow, she found herself here.  Teaching in Tokyo, and keeping the company of a cursed speech user from the notorious Inumaki Clan.  And… she enjoyed herself.

She hoped it didn’t show too much, keeping her expression neutral on the ride to Yokohama as Toge scrolled through the case file of his assignment.  Occasionally he’d tilt his phone in her direction so she could read up on it as well, sometimes she’d give him her thoughts on it, but the few words that came out were nothing compared to the calculations she was making behind her eyes.  He could tell just from the look in her eyes that she had more plots in her mind than the small things she shared.

Toge wondered if she was always silent when she schemed, or if this was her attempt at not overstepping a non-existent boundary.  Truthfully, he would’ve loved to hear her thoughts on how best to exorcize this curse.  He would have found a way to ask her, but he didn’t want all of their conversation tonight to revolve around work.  Jujutsu, curses, and everything in between was on the back burner for now.  Or at least, once he wrapped up this assignment.

And as expected, the assignment took less time than the time they spent traveling.  (y/n) barely got a good look at the Grade Two before it was told to drop dead and- well, it dropped dead.  She didn’t exactly expect Inumaki to need any assistance, he’d made it pretty clear that her company wasn’t needed on the assignment.  However, seeing him in action up close was…

It’s just that she’d somehow let herself forget just how powerful the Inumaki Clan was.  Maybe she’d separated Toge from the rest of the clan in her mind, but watching him exorcize a curse and then zip up his collar again in the matter of a minute and a half was…

She has to clear her throat and make herself appear busy checking the content of her purse as they leave the site.  The heart of Yokohama, and the tea shop, was a little bit of a walk.  Luckily Inumaki was busy gulping down two- no, three- bottles of cough medicine.  By the time the third is gulped down, (y/n) finds her voice.  Her thoughts, however, are still a bit muddled.

“Do you want to stop for another?” She asks, gesturing to the empty mini bottle he’d just shoved into his pocket.  “Looks like there’s a convenience store right here” 

His eyes follow her gaze, but there’s an uncertainty in them as he seemingly ignores the offer.

“What?” (y/n) frowns as they grow nearer to the store without planning on stopping in.  “Clearly your throat hurts, since you’re throwing back that medicine like it’s tequila” 

That earns her a curious look, a raised eyebrow questioning her choice of drink.  But this time, it’s her turn to ignore him.

“C’mon, we’ll be quick” She says, turning to head into the store with or without him.

Toge huffs, but finds his feet dragging behind her path anyways.

(y/n) hovers around as Toge picks up two more bottles of cough syrup.  She makes a face when he chooses bubblegum, her nose wrinkling at the all-too childish choice.  Toge’s question of her disgust doesn’t need to be voiced with a rice ball ingredient.

“Bubblegum?” She asked, eyes locking on the medicine in his hand before looking up at him again.  “Are you five?” 

His eyes roll, but it’s quick enough that he’s still able to catch the smile she’s trying to bite back.

She might not have his little language perfectly translated in her mind, but she has a pretty good feeling that he’s cursing her out with a few muttered ikuras under his breath.  She barely hides her laughter as she follows him to the counter.

It’s hard not to notice the way the clerk stares.  She knows they’re not trying to be rude, they are an odd pair at the counter.  In matching black uniforms and three arms between them- not to mention Toge’s in a collar that makes him look like he could be casing the joint- but still, something unsettles her the longer the girl on the other side of the counter stares.

Knowing that saying something about the staring would make things worse, she decides to keep her mouth shut as Toge exchanges the money for his medicine.  But that doesn’t mean she’s not making a perfectly clear point by staring down the cashier with an intensity she’s only ever felt while staring a curse straight in it’s soulless eyes.  She gets a much more pleasing reaction from the non-sorcerer though.  As soon as their eyes cross paths, they’re much quicker in retrieving Toge’s change and receipt.  (y/n) can’t help the smug smile on her face once they’re able to turn and leave the store, the clerk barely able to mumble out a ‘have a good night’.

Toge may have had a small bit of tunnel vision opening up his medicine and chugging down the relieving, bubblegum tasting fluid.  But he was a trained jujutsu sorcerer, he could tell when there was suspicious activity in his peripherals.  And (y/n’s) fixed gaze on the corner store’s window was rather odd.

He gives her a look, but she’s more focused than he had been, and it takes a small nudge to her elbow to disconnect her hunter’s glare.

“What?” She asks, innocent and curious.

With his collar unzipped from his earlier medicine-chugging, she can see the awkward smile he wears as he questions her silently.  She knows what he’s trying to ask, but she feigns confusion and tries to brush off the moment.  Inumaki lets her, but only on the condition that she seems to give him the attention she’d previously fixed on the store.

With his throat feeling healed and the pleasantness of bubblegum replacing the metallic taste of blood on his tongue, Toge continues on their walk towards the tea shop he’d been looking forward to all day.  One cup of tea from there would do better work than five bottles of cough syrup- no matter the delicious pink flavor.

(y/n) tries to put the experience at the corner store behind her as they walk in a comfortable silence.  It wasn’t her place to take offense from the staring anyways, she’s sure Inumaki’s been on the receiving end of odd looks and lingering eyes his whole life.

Still, it makes her uneasy to think about him being treated differently than anyone else.  It wasn’t fair.

Wanting to put an end to their silence, Inumaki pulls out his phone and starts typing.

[inumaki toge]: the least you could do is be the chatty one btw

(y/n) feels the buzz of a notification in her pocket, but she pays it no mind at all.  It takes a laugh and a nudge from Inumaki for her to realize he’s the one texting her, and she laughs awkwardly with him as she pulls her phone out.

They continue to text rapidly back and forth as they walk.

[y/n]: it’s rude to text when you have company btw 

[inumaki toge]: would u rather i just curse u then

[y/n]: would U rather i just DIE then ?? 

[inumaki toge]: ur just grouchy that u didn’t get to exorcize that curse :p

She looks up at him then, fixing him a glare that just couldn’t have been conveyed the same way from an emoji.  He stares back at her for a minute, a smile that was a little too cocky on his face.  Her hard set eyes wander his face for a moment, she’d still never gotten used to seeing those markings on display, but the furrow in her brow remained.

He turns away to type again, and seconds later her phone vibrates in her hands.

[inumaki toge]: i looked pretty cool tho didn’t i? was i impressive? i’m thinking about being the first jujutsu influencer.

She barks out a laugh so unexpected that they both share the same look of surprise on their faces.  A softer, more bashful laugh comes out at her as she nods her head in confirmation.

“Yeah, Inumaki.  You looked very cool” Even the word comes out like it’s an immature compliment, but a compliment nonetheless.  He beams back at her.

[inumaki toge]: just toge.

“Okay” (y/n) nods at her phone, her lips moving like she’s going to call him by his preferred name, but no sound comes out, and she finds herself closing her mouth just as quickly.

[inumaki toge]: otherwise i’ll feel like ur teacher.  and that’s weird.

“Well, to be fair, you’re sort of my teacher,” She says, turning away from her phone to speak directly to him.  “You know, you’ve taught me how to teach,” She clarifies.  With an absent mind she tucks her phone back into her pocket.  “I know I agreed to it and all, but I probably would’ve walked out a few days ago if it weren’t for you.  I definitely don’t have the patience for this job- or any qualifications, actually,” 

Toge snorts and shakes his head with his disbelief in her.  She might not have sought out this job, but she didn’t have to be so hard on herself.

“Seriously, I think my students would have killed each other if it weren’t for your guidance.  Now they actually… almost tolerate each other.  It’s a miracle, really” 

Inumaki types on his phone again.

[inumaki toge]: don’t give us too much credit.  that would’ve happened eventually

“You think?” (y/n) scoffs, recalling how her pair of students were at each other’s throats when she met them.

[inumaki toge]: ofc.  they’re crazy about each other XD

“What!?” (y/n) shrieks as her eyes scan over his text a few more times before turning to him.  “Did you get cursed back there or something?” She accuses, a wild look in her eye and a grin of disbelief on her lips.  But a smile nonetheless, Toge returns it.  “They can’t stand each other!” 

He shrugs a shoulder, his smile softening with his gaze as he watches her struggle to understand where he was coming from.

“You know I don’t let them spar with each other right? They’re too rough! They’ll hurt each other more than they could get hurt out on an assignment” 

Toge chuckles, his teeth showing through his grin as he shakes his head at her before sending another message.  His amusement practically glowed through his features, so much so (y/n) couldn’t tear her eyes away from him while he was texting.

[inumaki toge]: sounds like rising tension to me~ 

[inumaki toge]: fr tho they had a thing for each other before you took over for fushiguro.  they’re at each other’s throats 24hrs a day but only cuz they got it bad.

“Got it bad?” (y/n) repeats in a mumble to herself.  She gives him a deadpan look, silently telling him she thought he was an insane person, but Toge only grins back at her.

“Salmon cod roe” He shrugs again, but before the conversation could go any further, he’s pointing to their destination and they’re crossing the street.  

As they enter the tea shop, (y/n) makes a mental note not to forget what he’d said.  Maybe she would feel differently when she saw her students tomorrow.  Inumaki- Toge- had known them longer than her, maybe he was onto something.

It’s pretty quiet inside, only a few other people sitting around the small cafe.  Some with company, talking quietly so as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere for the others dining alone, accompanied only by a book or their studies.  The quietness, surprisingly, isn’t unsettling to (y/n).  She actually smiles contentedly as they find a two-seated table near the window.  There’s menus already placed at the table, although small, their detailing is adorable.  (y/n’s) compelled to pick one up and scan over it, despite having known exactly what she was going to order before walking in.

Toge lifts the other menu off the table, just enough to appear as though he was giving it a glance, but anyone paying attention would have seen that he hadn’t taken his eyes off of his company since they’d sat down.

“I think I’ll just get what I- what?” 

(y/n) starts to speak, but when she lifts her gaze from the paper she finds Toge staring at her so blatantly she can’t be bothered to finish her thought.  Her voice softens upon catching his eyes, suddenly nervous, although she can’t explain why, perhaps she’d just worried that she’d disturbed the quiet peace of the shop.

Toge shakes his head, assuring her there was nothing on his mind, and while she relaxes some knowing that he wasn’t trying to silently warn her about some unknown rule of speaking, her heart had yet to stop skipping every other beat as she waits for the rest of the explanation as to why he’d been staring.

He opens his mouth, and for a second the both of them almost forget.  Forget that he’s not going to say something of substance, something real.  They both wait for that split second for him to say what’s on his mind.  And they share a sheepish smile when he closes his mouth again, biting his lip before the smile could do a 180 and kill the vibe.

(y/n) winces for him when his eyes return to the menu, and she watches his hand reach for the zipper to his collar.  She’s compelled to tell him to leave it open- although she doesn’t find the courage for such words before a waitress strolls by for their order.

Toge points to the tea he wants on the menu, and she finds herself following suit when it’s her turn to order.  She can feel his eyes on her, wide with surprise as she wordlessly places her order, but once the waitress disappears, it’s silent between them again.

She struggles to look at him, not because she doesn’t want to, but because she can’t help herself from doing so.  He’d closed his collar only halfway, barely enough to cover the markings on his face, and yet enough to reveal whenever he smiled or winced or frowned.  Her eyes keep wandering around the room before going back to him, again and again, each time looking somewhere new.  The smallest peek of black ink near his mouth, the wisps of blonde hair that fell at the tips of his ears, the violet eyes that seemed to hold all the words his mouth couldn’t say.  Maybe that’s why it was so hard to look at him- it was the intensity.

“You’re being really quiet” She says after a few minutes of looking and looking away.  Toge’s stunned for a moment, before a laugh bursts through at the odd comment.  

The corner of her lips twitch momentarily, proud of her attempt to make him laugh working.

He pulls his phone out, laying it on the table to type easier with one hand, poking about on the screen like a child learning how to use a keyboard.  (y/n) pulls her own phone out as she awaits his message, but she keeps her attention on him as she does.  With his focus on the screen, there’s less of an intensity for her to stare into.

[inumaki toge]: found this place on an assignment here last year.  the tea is magic.  better than rct

“That so?” (y/n) hums as she’s typing back a response.  Toge hums in confirmation.  She doesn’t realize that as she types, he keeps his attention on her, just as she’d done for him.

[y/n]: i’ve ordered the same thing since i was a kid, so hopefully it doesn’t disappoint 

[inumaki toge]: that’s a lot of pressure to put on tea

[y/n]: no, the pressure is all on you 

[inumaki toge]: so it’s my fault if you don’t like the same cup of tea you’ve had all your life? 

“Mhm” (y/n) hums, lifting her head from the screen to catch his reaction, only again to find him already staring at her.  

The amused smirk she’d been wearing as they texted back and forth faltered, replaced by a soft surprise that Toge grew quite fond of seeing on her, even for a moment.  He doesn’t think about how his gaze is so obviously focused on her lips, because he doesn’t really think about anything at all.  With a blank mind he’s able to better appreciate her beauty.

(y/n’s) not sure what the look on his face means, she’s not able to read it as well as she’s typically able, and the realization makes her nervous again.  She can feel warmth spreading in her cheeks, and a similar feeling spiking in her chest.  What was that? 

Toge’s eyes shift up to hers, and he lets himself enjoy the way she sits there with her own eyes so wide he knows she’s waiting for him to explain the long silent stare.  Momentarily, he’s grateful for an ability such as his.  He doesn’t have to deliver an explanation in a timely manner, if at all.  He could keep on staring, and try his best to communicate his train of thought with his eyes alone.

“So… how much sign language do you know?” (y/n) asked, her voice quieter than she intended it to be.  

It can’t be explained, but everything suddenly feels more intimate now.  Like if she were to speak in a volume above a whisper, the rest of the world would come back into view.  But the rest of the world remains a watercolor background, and all she knows is sitting at this table.

Toge flattens his hand and shakes it back and forth, indicating a little, before he quickly types at his phone.

[inumaki toge]: learning a little here and there.  for the kids really.  panda is trying too.

(y/n) nods.  “Is there anything worth teaching?” 

Toge smiles, and for a few minutes he shows her a few motions for her to repeat before he texts her their meaning.  She gets the basics down pretty easy, such as introductions and greetings.  He doesn’t know how much he should teach her, but soon enough the waitress is returning with their tea and the topic moves on to something new again anyways.

He waits to take a sip of his, too curious to watch (y/n’s) first reaction to her own drink.

There’s something so plainly pretty about the picture before him that if it wouldn’t be odd, he would raise his phone and snap the picture to retain it’s memory in a physical form.  The way she captivates his entire attention has him feeling like he’s seventeen again.  Some of it might have to do with the warm lighting, the quiet atmosphere, but his thoughts are on such a simple track of adoration that he doesn’t think too much about how pretty her hands look gently wrapped around the mug- just that they are pretty.  

She’s pretty.  

And he’s… a goner.

She’s smiling when she lowers her drink after a sip, and Toge releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“It’s good,” She voices her opinion after a moment, her hands still wrapped around the mug even as she rests it on the table.  “Definitely worth the trip out here.  Even if I didn’t get to have any of the fun” 

The movement of Toge’s hand is quick, as he gestures downward before tapping his nose and repeating the same motion.  He does it a second time just for the emphasis of trying to communicate something to her.  It takes her a moment to understand, but despite having a very minimal understanding of sign language, she comes to her conclusion quicker than he would have thought.

“Fun,” She repeats the motion he’d made, two fingers tapping her nose before bringing her hand downwards towards the table.  Toge nods in affirmation, a smile breaking across his face at her quick wit.  “This is fun?” She makes her guess at what he’d said, and his smile only widens as he nods again.  “This is fun,” The second time she repeated it was to reaffirm the motion in her mind, hoping a mental note would help her remember the small bit of signing for later.  

Then, for a third time, she quietly repeats “This is fun”, and Toge seems to understand that she was agreeing with his statement.  This is fun.  They’re having fun.  Together.  Like this.

It’s quiet between them as they sip their tea, but it’s not an awkward silence.  It’s comfortable, sitting together in the quaint shop and enjoying their warm drinks.  Time seems to fly by even without conversation, and they find themselves paying and leaving before they know it.

There seems to be no rush on their walk to the train station.  Neither of them even bother to check the schedule on the way.  Tokyo would be there no matter what time they returned, they were sure.

The silence lingers for a bit longer, but eventually Toge can’t help but pull out his phone and strike up a conversation.

[inumaki toge]: maybe next time i’ll let you do the exorcizing 

(y/n) shoots him a look when she reads his text, her brow raised but the rest of her face so expressionless it’s hard for him to get a read on what she’s thinking.  He’s starting to get the feeling that she likes it that way.

[y/n]: next time? 

He doesn’t need to text her when he can just nod his head.  Her lips twitch, but she manages to keep them in a straight enough line that he still can’t tell what she’s thinking about.  Nonetheless, he beams back at her, and he holds her stare for a moment longer than he should have before he’s texting her again.

[inumaki toge]: you seem thrilled

(y/n) lets out a dry laugh at the equally dry message.

“I’m only around a couple more days,” She replies, and the disappointment Toge feels is immediate and obvious in the way he deflates.  Still, she continues to explain, “Tokyo might have a curse issue, but it can’t be so bad they have to send their best and brightest every night, hm?” 

There’s hesitation in his eyes as he thinks about what he should type out next.  (y/n’s) grown rather patient with the way he communicates, so she doesn’t seem to realize that his silence isn’t due to the limitations of Cursed Speech.

Even once he begins typing, his thumb is slow.

[inumaki toge]: you’d be surprised.  tokyo might need a little extra help

He glances over at her as she reads his message, and his thumb begins to type out a second message before she could reply first.

[inumaki toge]: you could always stay a little longer

Again, he watches her as she watches her screen.  Where her thumbs had previously hovered over her keyboard, she moves them away now.  Leaving no intention of texting back a response.  Toge feels the pace of his heart begin to slow as the organ plummets to his stomach.  Suddenly filled with dread, he fixates his stare on the station ahead of them.  He thinks if he were to look at her now, when she’s so clearly rejected the idea, that she would see the disappointment on his face.

Without a word or text shared, the pair get inside and track down the evening schedule.  Toge’s pretty sure that there’s a faster pace to her steps than before.  The dread only worsens at the thought that suddenly she’s in a rush just to wait for a train.

Once they’re stopped again, (y/n) lets out a sigh and turns towards him.  He waits for her to begin her explanation, her rejection, but it takes a few more seconds before she actually voices her thoughts.

“It’s not a surprise… right?” Is the first thing she slowly says, and Toge can’t say he understands what she means.  He can’t really say anything, but this is different.  “I mean, I agreed to two weeks, you were there,” 

His brows furrowed into a bored look, and she winced.

“And I told you I wasn’t cut out for the whole teaching thing, I’ve barely been getting by- and I might hate it sometimes but I do miss assignments you know” 

In a stressed, jerky movement, Toge raises his phone and shakes it, reminding her of the offer he’d just given her.  (y/n) frowns, and he groans as he types a quick text.

[inumaki toge]: if you really wanted, you could take assignments here

He can tell it doesn’t make a difference when her face doesn’t change upon reading it.  He huffs again, a muttered “Ikura” under his breath, which she hears and bristles up to right away.

“Hey,” The offense in her tone is clear, and Toge’s partially surprised she even understood what he meant.  “I don’t understand why you’re getting upset, I’ve been clear from the minute I got here that I’d be leaving when the time was up.  And time’s up” 

With a glare that he can’t help, Toge texts her again.

[inumaki toge]: you’re not leaving.  you’re running away

“I am not!” She argues, her voice raising more than she wanted it to.  A few other people waiting for the train send the pair a dirty look for disrupting the peace and quiet of an empty train station, but she pays them no mind as she continues arguing.  “I’m going home.  I don’t live here and I don’t want to live here- I didn’t want to be here to begin with, remember?” 

[inumaki toge]: but then things changed.

“No, they didn’t” (y/n) replies, focusing on her screen.

[inumaki toge]: yes they did and you know it

“That doesn’t even matter.  I was never going to stay” 

[inumaki toge]: it does matter.  it matters because you don’t really want to leave, and i really don’t want you to go.

Her head darts upward and she stares at him now, the weight of the confession hitting her harder than either of them would have thought.  Her typical neutral expression is washed away by something else- something serious, and almost concerned.  Her brows are knitted together as she stares at him as if she’s waiting for him to speak.  Eyes round and lips parted around words that aren’t coming to her fast enough, they stand silently and stare at each other.

Before the right thing to say could come to her, the ring signaling the train was pulling in began to go off, and shortly after the train entered the station.  The expected chaos of it all- the screech of metal on metal, the sudden gust of air whipping around hair and clothes- it feels nonexistent as they stand there together.

Nothing happens.  The train comes to a stop, the doors open, and Toge tilts his head to beckon her to follow him onto the car.  (y/n) follows a few paces behind.  An indescribable but momentary paralyzing sensation buzzing through her legs as she forces them to move.

They take their seats, phones in hand but no messages being typed between them.  (y/n’s) leg begins to bounce the longer Toge stares out the window without a thought to share.

She hates the anxious feeling that settles under her skin the longer they sit like this.

“You know…” Her voice is a mumble when she finds the courage to speak, ten minutes into their ride.  “It’s not like I hated my time here,” 

It does the trick in getting him to look at her, at least.  But he makes no effort to text, or sign.  Instead, he just stares blankly, telling her that it wasn’t good enough.  She frowns, holding his stare.

“And it’s not like I’d never come back” 

This time he scoffs, an unamused smile on his face as he shakes his head.  The bitterness wafting off of him is almost as strong as his cursed energy.  Without words, text, or movement, he’s able to say you’re not coming back, as clear as day.

“I would come back,” (y/n) argues quietly, and his violet eyes drift back to her with the realization that she seemed to understand exactly what he was thinking.  If only she would extend the same ability to him, so he wouldn’t have to decipher all the layers of bullshit she uses to cover what she really thinks.  “I would” She says it again, a certainty in her eyes that tells him she’s being sincere.

Toge huffs in defeat, unlocking his phone.

[inumaki toge]: what is it that you’re so insistent to go back to?

He doesn’t mean for it to be a harsh message, but that doesn’t make the blow to her ego any easier.  But she knows he’s not wrong, either.  There’s no family she’s in contact with.  Her work leaves her no time for friendships, either.  She doesn’t even have a pet.  All she has is an undecorated apartment with a fridge that has one box of leftovers that would need to be thrown out upon her return and a perfectly made bed that hasn’t been slept on in weeks- even before she left.

There’s fundamentally nothing for her to go home to.

Her lower lip wobbles, but she’s quick to bite down on it before it could go noticed.  Toge’s pretty sure he knows what he saw, though.

Setting his phone on his leg, he reaches his hand out to her.  His touch is gentle, but apprehensive as he sets his hand on her wrist.  It speaks volumes, though.  She can see, and feel, all of the sympathy he’s trying to communicate.  With a short squeeze, he pulled his hand away again, much too soon, but he’d said exactly what he needed to say with that movement alone.

Why can’t you stay?

Her mouth opens, “of course I can’t stay!” sitting right at the tip of her tongue, but this time she’s the one with the Cursed Speech, and she couldn’t possibly say it out loud.  But it’s there, they both know it’s there, they can practically see it.

(y/n) shuts her mouth, wobbly lips forming into a frown upon seeing Toge’s disappointment in her silence.

She’s known him all of two weeks, and his disapproval wrecks her.

“I…” It’s broken, hardly a word, hardly a syllable, but it’s a start.  “What would that say?” 

His brows twitch, then draw together.  Confusion, maybe concern, is written all over him as his eyes wander her features, doing their best to understand her.  She doesn’t make it any easier on him.

With a slight shake of his head, he gives in and asks her what she means.

“If I stayed, just cause- just- just on a whim, for no reason other than-” 

She’s stammering, hardly making sense, and she’s just barely managed to keep her voice down so as not to draw attention from the other passengers scattered around.  But even she has to cut herself off before she could say something that could embarrass herself.  Although, if she were honest with herself, that ship had sailed.

Toge tilts his head, prompting her to finish her thought, but the longer he sits, and stares, and waits, the more (y/n) seems to withdraw.  Her mouth shuts, her brows seem to fall, and he worries that means she’ll be keeping the rest of her thoughts to herself.  He frowns at her, his curious look turning pointed to voice his irritation.

(y/n) figures she could either find another way to explain herself, or she could be grateful that the train was pulling into their station now and she could let the conversation die within this car when she hops out.

The screeching halt followed by the squeak and cry of the doors sliding open is rough on the ears but (y/n) couldn’t have been more relieved as she shoots up from the seat and rushes out of them.

The unsaid words aren’t forgotten, they couldn’t be when they’re tethered to the both of them, following them off the train and through the station.  It doesn’t matter how her stride races past his, the invisible chain still lingers.

She’s not winded from how quick she’s walking- of course not she’s a trained sorcerer- but somehow she’s not taking in air fast enough and she finds her chest rising and falling with short gasps of breath barely relieving her for a second at a time before she’s struggling to gulp down another.

Toge lets her storm off for a few paces.  Whether it’s because he wants her to get it out of her system, or if he needed his own train of thought to catch up with his actions, he couldn’t be sure.  But at some point following after her wasn’t enough.

(y/n) chokes mid breath when she’s halted from speed walking any further.  A hand latches around her wrist, and she has the audacity to look shocked when she’s whirled around.

“Toge!” She shouts, and they both seem to wince at the realization that it’s the first time she’s called him by his first name.

His brows are drawn together, and his eyes shift between hers and the arm he’s holding a few times before he lets her go.  He expected her to huff and take off again.  Maybe she’d speed walk all the way back to Jujutsu Tech, pack her bags, and disappear before the sunrise.

Her hand falls limply back to her side, a visible weight resting on her shoulders as she seems to shrink before him.  It’s odd to see her this way, but he doesn’t know how to communicate it at the moment.

“You barely know me” Her voice isn’t a whisper, but it’s too quiet for Toge’s liking.  He fights the urge to roll his eyes by taking a slow blink.

His hand gestures towards his chest, then taps his head before pointing towards her.  Her lips drop open, but Toge’s quick to repeat the action.  One sharp gesture towards himself, a jerky point at his skull, and then an even more exaggerated point towards her.  His finger stays in her direction until she shuts her mouth again, and he knows she won’t try to argue again.

Did he know everything about her? No.  But right now, it’s what he wanted more than anything.  And if he couldn’t get her to understand that, then he might go crazy.

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” She starts, and Toge groans, his head hanging back as he silently curses the clouds.  “No,” She steps forward, reaching towards his arm only to hesitate once she’s close to grabbing him.  “I meant… I meant I don’t understand why” She clarifies.

There’s nothing but softness behind his eyes as he gazes down at her, but the intensity of the violet still has a hitch forming in her throat.  The way he looks at her, as if she hadn’t just tried to storm out on him, positively makes her knees weak in a way that she can no longer ignore.  

That feeling she’s been pushing away, the stuttering heartbeat, the rush of adrenaline, she couldn’t ignore it now if she wanted to.  Not with it reflecting in Toge’s eyes looking directly back at her.

Her own eyes stretch as round as saucers, realization draining her face of color before coming back in a creeping pink blush.  

“And I- I barely know you,” She stammers over her words, but there’s something different in her tone now.  As if she’s trying to convince herself, rather than him.  Toge nods his head from side to side- he can’t argue, but he doesn’t think she wants him to anyways.  “It would just be- ridiculous to stay, out of nowhere, just- just pack up my life and start all over here- I- I’m not even that familiar with Tokyo,” 

He chuckles, amusement flickering in his eyes as he watches her grasp at straws.  A last ditch effort at explaining away the feeling.

“And I’m a shit teacher… those kids will eat me alive if I can’t get my shit together…” Her voice goes quieter as she trails off, glancing away as her eyes search around the empty street for some sort of solution.  “I can’t just uproot my life for you, you know” 

And then (y/n’s) head snaps forward again, noticing much too late the implication of her words.  Toge’s already raising a brow at her choice of words, a shit eating grin splitting his face.

He points his finger to his chest with an attitude that would make her glare at him if she could will the muscles in her face to do so.  But her lips are working on a mind of their own, twitching into a nervous smile.  She has to shake her head to combat the stupid dopey smile on her own face.  It only seems to further Toge’s amusement.

“Don’t- don’t look at me like that!” She’s shouting again, but it’s useless.  She’s already spoken those previously unsaid words, breaking their tether and letting them free for him to have and hold onto.

And hold onto them, he did.

“Salmon~” He sing-songs the riceball ingredient in a knowing, teasing tone.  He enjoys it far too much when her nervous smile makes an attempt at frowning, only for the corners of her lips to wobble and tilt upwards at him again- as if smiling at him came naturally to them.

A breathless, humorless laugh escapes her.  She pushes her fingers against her temples, as if it could bring some sort of peace to her chaotic mind.  She must be going crazy to actually be caving, right?

“I’ve lost my mind” She mumbles out.

Toge rolls his eyes at her dramatics, unable to help it this time.  He brings his hand out to brush his fingers under her chin, just enough to pull her attention back towards him- and returns color to her cheeks once more- before he reaches for one of her hands and pulls it towards him.  Mindlessly, she takes a half step forward.

It’s quiet for a moment.  And it should be uncomfortable, standing in silence in the middle of a sidewalk.  The sun had set a while ago, leaving only the street lamps to illuminate the surrounding area.  There are a few people still out and about, some rushing home late, others strolling casually, but even as people awkwardly sidestep the two of them, it’s hard to really give it much notice.

Not too unexpected, (y/n) breaks the silence first.

“There must be a rice ball ingredient that would tell me what you’re thinking,” She sighs, her nervous smile growing softer, fonder, more sure of itself.

Toge chuckles, and she can’t help but watch his lips tilt into a smile.  The slight dip of skin where his markings are, where a dimple is almost perfectly centered by ink.  Her gaze is as soft as her smile- just as fond, just as sure of herself.

“You know… you’re nothing like I thought you’d be when I first met you” 

“Hm?” Toge hums, his head tilting just slightly.  He already knows that he’s doomed to have a terrible first impression when people meet him.

(y/n) nods, her eyes haven’t torn away from his lips and the markings that frame them yet.

“I thought you were… I dunno, different,” Her own voice lowers to a near hum, something curious lighting up in her eyes.  “I don’t know if you remember, but that exchange event, when we were still students, you made me run away from a fight,” 

Toge nods, recalling the day just fine.  Finally, her eyes flicker back up to meet his.

“I kind of hated you for that you know,” 

It’s not funny, but he’s laughing quietly.  (y/n) doesn’t understand it.  He just shrugs impishly.

“I don’t like being told to walk away from a fight,” She says, a seriousness in her tone that stood out in the otherwise tranquil moment.  “Actually, I don’t really like being told what to do at all,” She adds, almost as an afterthought.

Her eyes shift a few times back to his mouth, she does nothing to hide her glances.

Inumaki’s expression is knowing, she’d made it abundantly clear that she didn’t take direction from others very well, she didn’t have to tell him.  It took him, like, three tries just to get her to go out for tea.

“But…” She sighs through a long exhale, trying to release her pent up nerves.  “If you told me to stay, I wouldn’t really have another choice…” Her words are slow, careful, just like her eyes as she peeks up at him properly.  “Literally” She tacks on at the end with the tiniest of smiles.

Inumaki raises his eyebrows, unable to help the way his lips tilt into a smirk at the idea.  She’s not wrong, if he really wanted her to stay, he had just the right cursed technique to make that happen.  His eyes shift between hers, if only to appreciate the way her impatience becomes her, no matter how hard she’s trying to mask it.

He opens his mouth, takes a breath, and leans down to her height.  (y/n’s) eyes don’t blink once as she’s rendered breathless from anticipation.

Just as it looks like he’s going to say something, she does blink, and she nearly misses it.  Toge’s quick, leaning in swiftly to brush his lips over her cheek in a chaste kiss.  Her eyes are flying open to stare at him in shock when he pulls away just as fast as he’d leaned in.

She opens her mouth to say something- probably some sort of protest out of shock, but no words come out, and there’s no denying that she’s starting to grin.

Toge’s already smiling ear to ear, seemingly proud of himself.  He doesn’t give her any extra time to think of some witty thing to say, either.  Just holds his arm open to drape around her shoulders so that when they continued their walk, she was right next to him.  Still shell shocked, (y/n) finds herself blindly going along with him.  She doesn’t brush off his arm, or speed away, she keeps her pace purposefully in sync with his.  And after a few strides, she’s even closer to him than before.

Their walk is quiet for a while, each too preoccupied by their heads from that one little kiss.

(y/n) was practically derailing- had he really reduced her to this simple state from a kiss on the cheek? Was she actually making a mental checklist for moving preparations? Would she always feel a burst of electricity inside of her when he was close? 

It would take a business day or two for her to regain her composure and open her eyes to what she really wanted.  But Toge was happy to wait, especially when it meant he’d be the one right there when she was ready to admit how she felt.

Speaking off- Toge couldn’t wipe the grin off his face the whole journey back to Jujutsu Tech.  It wasn’t a long walk, but it felt like an eternity when he had the girl of his dreams under his arm, still blushing from one little kiss.

What an excitement it would be to get to do it again, and have her understand him.

[djcandiepaws]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ yandere! artist x reader

summary: you have a classmate who is an artist! he wants you to model for him. cw: talk of nudity (its not sexual, but he perceives it that way since its you), stalking, mention of cum. thats pretty much it!

post it notes: might be the longest fic i've ever made

It's after school hours when classes end and clubs start. Recently you've been interested in joining the art club! The art welcomes beginners and pros with open arms. You're a beginning artist, and you could use the help! So you obviously decide to join! Plus, maybe you can make a few friends?

You knock on the art club door, and a familiar face opens it. "Welcome to the art club!" It's your guidance counselor! She's the sweetest; you had no clue she was a co-owner of the art club. "Please, come in! Let me introduce you!" She had introduced you as well as showed you around.

"Forgive me though, one of our owners is running a bit late." She rubs her neck, visibly embarrassed. "Nowadays, he is usually a bit late. I don't understand why, though."

"Don't worry, I understand!" You smile. It's seriously no biggie. Anyways, you go sit down at a desk to start drawing. Lately, you haven't been drawing since you just haven't had the energy or time for it.

Honestly, you scratch your head. You're not sure how to start as you usually need inspiration or a reference to start. You're honestly confused as to how people draw purely based off of imagination. It must be a gift that you must lack. While stuck in your thoughts, the classroom opens.

"Hey! Sorry I'm late, everyone. I had to finish a pass-due essay for English!" He fidgets with the end of his sleeve. It's a bit embarrassing to be late to your own club that you started. He looks around, and his eyes lock onto you. You're right where he wanted you to be.

Truth be told, the only reason he has missing assignments is because he falls asleep in class due to his lack of sleep. He spends his nights stalking outside your house, drawing it, and sneaking glimpses of the inside to study the layout so he knows when the right moment is to break in.

He's not trying to hurt you; he loves you. You're so beautiful; sometimes when you're at lunch, he sits on the floor of the cafeteria to draw you. To him, you possess beauty even Aphrodite would envy.

He walks up to your desk. He strikes up a conversation. "Hey, I know you. You recently transferred, right?" "Oh, yeah. I did. You look a bit familiar; are you in my Algebra class?" His face visibly lights up; do you remember him? Oh, it's so meant to be! "Yeah! I'm surprised you remember my face! I don't necessarily talk much in that class." He chuckles. "To be fair, your chair desk is in the front row of the class. I see you pretty much all the time."

Suddenly, he gets a bright idea. "Hey, you know in this class we draw nude human anatomy, right?" You nod with a small 'mhm' sound coming from you. "Maybe... You can model for the club? I know it might be strange at first, but I was just wondering…" Your face falls from shock. He isn't serious, right? I mean… I don't know. You could, but you just met him. But at the same time, it's just nudity for the sake of studying female anatomy; it's not anything sexual.

"You can always say no! I was just wondering." He suddenly realizes you might be a bit uncomfortable with it. "No, it's a fine question. I was just shocked. I just joined and all, so it's a bit overwhelming." You smile awkwardly.

"You know, if you're considering actually doing it… To make you feel a bit more confident, you could always do it just for me." Honestly, he started sweating. To get you naked, all for himself, under the guise of it being for nude modeling. Oh, he's so excited he honestly might cum in his pants. "Well... I mean, I could, but could we get to know each other a bit more? Just to make me feel a bit more comfortable." Oh my god, he almost squeals from excitement. An excuse to see you naked and to ALSO be your friend? This day can't get any better. "Yeah, sure! Anything to make it more comfortable for you!" He starts to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Honestly, you're a bit flustered! You've never had an offer like this, and to be honest, you don't mind modeling for someone as sweet as him. He doesn't have any weird intentions in mind, or at least you don't think so. Plus, not all nudity is sexual, so it's not that bad, right?