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[anigdha]

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[obsessivevoidkitten]

Practical Demonstration

Kinktober Day 3: Exhibitionism Yandere Male Alpha Professor x Gender Neutral Omega Teacher Assistant CW: Noncon, public sex, exhibitionism, abuse of authority, knotting, musk, scent kink, biting, claiming bites, pheromones, overstimulation, a/b/o dynamics, slick, suppressants, manipulation, praise kink, general yandere behavior Word Count: 1.6k (Okay guys, hope you enjoy this given how long you have waited for it! PLEASE comment, comments feed me <3)

You were the teacher's assistant for the renowned and well-regarded Professor Reid Sullivan. He had degrees involving anatomy and physiology as well as the psychology of alphas and omegas, and the college he taught at was prestigious.

Professor Sullivan was a bit of a prodigy, already being a highly respected academic despite only being in his early-thirties. His unkempt shaggy hair, dark circles around his eyes, and slight stubble made him appear older. His classes were popular, though he refused to teach large crowds. They reduced his efficacy. At most, he would teach 24 students at a time. This class, though, was limited to 20.

This meant students were always clamoring to sign up before all the slots were filled. Not only were people eager to watch him teach because he was so accomplished and good at educating but also because he was considered rather attractive by many students.

It didn't help that he was also an alpha, and despite his tired nerdy demeanor, he was actually quite fit.

But the main reason his classes were so popular was that he often incorporated live demonstrations into his lessons. In the past, he had omegas demonstrate heat and alphas show off knots while he pointed to and described the anatomy and the purpose for it. He even had an alpha and omega pair demonstrate mating on more than one occasion.

Working under him wasn't bad at all. You were an omega, so you were naturally pretty nervous at first. Working with an alpha superior could sometimes be rather hard. Even in this progressive age, there was still a degree of discrimination and power abuse.

Professor Sullivan was exceedingly kind to you. He even got you coffee and something to eat every morning, even though that would typically be a task more suited to you. He also let you sit in his large cushy chair and was quick to let you use his jacket as you rarely used one, and his classroom tended to be cold.

He was very patient and understanding, guiding you through lessons and helping you learn how to handle a class.

Then, on the day of the final lecture, his true colors were revealed.

He locked the door and then stood in front of it. He put on the display screen a presentation about seducing and breeding an omega.

"Omegas are instinctively attracted to mates that provide them with food. It doesn't have to be major, but a daily coffee and small bit of food will make them naturally more receptive to you..."

The lecture went into greater detail on the subject, also explaining how he microdosed the coffee to make suppressants less effective, but you weren't paying much attention. You were too busy staring at the screen that had pictures of you happily sipping coffee or nibbling on muffins or bagels. It was all so surreal.

"For a shy omega, you can't simply bombard them with your scent. It could scare them away or turn them off completely from your continued advances. Instead, get them acclimated to it..."

The screen now showed how he slightly scented his chair and jacket and gradually scented it more juxtaposed with images of you grading papers while wearing the jacket and sitting in his chair.

You were mortified. Professor Sullivan was a monster! You tried to push past him and get to the door. It almost worked as he was taken aback by your determination to escape, but the extra few seconds that you spent fiddling with the lock were all he needed to wrap his arms around you from behind.

"If your omega acts fearful before mating then the steps we took earlier will help us now."

“G-get off!”

You thrashed and squirmed, but he licked, sucked, and nibbled at your neck until the overstimulation clouded your mind and made your resistance much more feeble. After that, he turned you towards him and, after disrobing completely, pushed your head under his arm so that you got a full dose of his pheromones.

The students gave the professor their undivided attention. One or two omega students envied your place as they stared with wide-eyed fascination at Professor Sullivan's now throbbing cock. The rest were a bit uneasy because you clearly hadn't been willing. They weren't actually too shocked, though, this type of thing wasn't exactly uncommon.

"See how limp the omega is? That's because I canceled any bothersome suppressants, made them accepting of my scent, and subconsciously had them see me as a provider."

The professor had a student roll over his chair to the center of the class before locking the wheels in place. He sat you down tenderly after taking off all your clothing and setting it aside.

"Gather around class, feel free to masturbate as long as you pay attention. This is especially important for you alphas."

Some of the students rubbed their crotches. The alphas encouraged the omegas since it would be helpful later to get them all hot and bothered. After the class formed a circle around the two of you, he continued.

"Now, before an alpha inserts themself into their omega, they must make sure the omega is properly slicked up. Some was produced earlier, but we will want more."

He demonstrated the proper neck stimulation techniques as well as how to slowly stretch out and prepare an omega by inserting gradually more fingers. Then he showed them how to massage an omega’s entrance with their cocks before penetration.

Before he even slipped his cock into you, you were already drooling with a dazed expression.

"Okay class, I said today would be an interactive lesson. The 10 alpha students were each delegated an omega and as part of their final grade, they were tasked with doing everything to their omega classmate that I have done to the TA. Omega students will be granted a participation grade."

The alpha half of the class began pulling the omegas close, stuffing the omegas' faces into their musky crotches or underarms.

The omegas were all bewildered. One gladly accepted their fate, a few were shocked into inaction, and most struggled. Only one managed to escape and get out the door but was chased down and brought back.

These were all students with dreams and goals, most didn't want to be an alpha's property and cumdump. At least not before they did things with their lives.

"I made sure all of your desks were sturdy enough for this, you can prop your omegas up on them if you'd like, putting your clothes on the desk and laying your omega on that will make them more comfortable, like a miniature nest with your scent."

The alphas were all stoked and barely able to hold back.

"If you have your omega in a state like our wonderful TA here is demonstrating then you may slip your cock into them, go slowly though, at least at first."

Professor Sullivan was the first to sink in, causing you to moan softly, soon the entire room was filled with the gasps and moans of a room full of omegas mingling with the grunting and heavy breathing of their alpha lovers.

The air was heavy with pheromones, musk, and the scent of slick.

Your mind wasn't really able to process what was happening around you, though. Your nose was focused on the scent of the one mating you as you instinctively wrapped your arms and legs around him.

"Oh, don't forget to praise your omegas, they may not understand your words right now, but the tone will soothe them."

He kissed you possessively.

"You're such a good mate for me. A perfect partner. So good at helping me teach this lesson. Taking my cock so well~"

He cooed into your ear lovingly as the alpha students praised and complimented their mates. Occasionally, an omega shuddered and squealed in orgasm with their alphas not too far behind.

Sullivan sped the pace up for you, and you didn't last much longer after that. You spasmed wonderfully around his dick as you came hard. Not the only time, though, as he coaxed several more climaxes from your trembling body before he finally came himself and tied you with his big knot.

"Once you've knotted your lover you should bite their neck to mark them as yours. This is essential to making your omega feel safe and loved and will make you secure in the knowledge that everyone knows who they belong to."

The professor bit your neck hard, causing you to moan more even as you flinched in pain.

"You look so beautiful with my mark."

After all the mating had finished and all the knots had deflated, the omegas were all still pretty out of it. Mating and being claimed took a lot out of them and it would probably be an hour or two before they recovered.

"Don't forget your homework! Aftercare is ESSENTIAL!!! Take your omegas to your dorms and make sure they are hydrated, well fed, and praised. If they get cranky at today's events, they probably just need another round or two of breeding."

Which, as it turns out, is exactly what he determined you needed when you wouldn't listen to reason at his home later. He tried to explain that it was all to enhance his teaching. He had been looking for the right omega to fall in love with and help with his lessons for YEARS!

And he finally found you. A TA aspiring to work in his field! You had always wanted a career in academics, and now you had one as his permanent assistant and live demonstration participant!

[gojonanami]

𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐇 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ! - masterlist

‧ ˚. welcome to jujutsu tech university's course catalog, a list of classes offered by our esteemed (and hot) professors. from slow burn to pining to enemies to lovers, and even more to come, we offer it all! all course descriptions for courses in progress are subject to change.

a/n: this is a masterlist for my prof au! for jjk. all will be one or more parts and 18+ only. prof gojo (1) is coming soon :).

other courses planned: yuta okkotsu (t.a.), nanami kento (literature/math(?)), hiromi higuruma (criminal law), choso kamo (phlebotomy) and more (send in an ask if you have ideas!)

‧ ˚. 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆 :

CODE TITLE PHIL403 THE ETHICS OF RELATIONSHIPS (SUGURU GETO)

COURSE DESCRIPTION: Professor Suguru Geto is a renown ethics professor, and you're a 4.0, straight A student whose GPA he's trying to ruin (or that's what you think). Instead of dropping the class, you're more intent on making him see your brilliance — but you get more than you bargained for, when the two of you learn more about the other — and what you owe to each other.

SATISFIES REQUIREMENT(S): 18+ ONLY, AGE GAP, STUDENT-TEACHER RELATIONSHIP, SLOW BURN, LOVE TRIANGLE, ONLY ONE BED, MUTUAL PINING STATUS: AVAILABLE / COMPLETE

PHYS143 THE LAWS OF ATTRACTION (SATORU GOJO)

COURSE DESCRIPTION: Professor Satoru Gojo was used to getting everything he wanted -- so when he took an extended sabbatical, forced to attend yet another symposium to mitigate the failure of his research, he wanted nothing more than to blow it off. Until he met you - someone who matches him in pace and wits, and makes him want only one thing - you. So when he has you and returns to his university, why is it he's the only one seemingly pining?

SATISFIES REQUIREMENT(S): 18+ ONLY, ONE NIGHT STAND GONE WRONG, BOSS X EMPLOYEE, FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS, DEPT HEAD X PROF, SUB!GOJO, PINING, MORE TO COME STATUS: AVAILABLE / INCOMPLETE

[dilf-docs]

all the works listed below are mine. +18 (minors dni). reposting and/or translating is not allowed. requests are open!

All Roads Lead to Rome‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎3k

pedro pascal x younger fem!reader

your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.

This Thing Upon Me, Howls Like A Beast ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎6k

professor!pedro pascal x younger fem!reader (AU)

to cover some social hours and as a favor to your recently fallen-ill friend, you become your research methodology professor's TA. but here's the catch: you've got history, and what you really mean is beef; good, pure, unadulterated loath.

Le Pedí Al Mar Y Al Sol Que Te Trajera ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎2k

pedro pascal x younger fem!reader

vacations are supposed to be fun! and with a hot older famous boyfriend? now we're really talking.

Darlin', Can I Be Your Favorite? ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎5k

dbf!boxer pedro pascal x younger fem!reader (AU)

it should be simple. helping your dad's best friend to train for his upcoming match in his hometown, chile. but turns out, world-renowned boxer the viper isn't just a menace in the ring.

Where Art Thou, Why Not Uponeth Me? ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎5k

renaldo x younger fem!reader (based on snl 50)

he wasn't even your uncle anymore, having divorced your aunt about five years ago. but of course here he was, the life of the party, crashing your sister's wedding.

Call It What You Want‎‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎

pedro pascal x younger fem!reader (a series)

you and pedro are married, but you've kept it a secret up to the point you sometimes forget there's supposed to be a golden band on your finger. but then you both get cast in your first movie together. the chemistry is off the charts, and it starts to catch upon you: will the lines between shipping and reality finally blur?

I'm Happy Where The Devils Are ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Pt. 2‎‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎7k

dbf!joel miller x younger fem!reader

something something about forbidden things; you never learn, not until the heart you gave returns to you in shreds, bleeding out of love. what's left when you've given all of your heaven away? hell.

You're A Daydream, Stay A While ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ 6k

jackson!joel miller x younger fem!reader

you're jackson's designated bartender. well, your dad is, but after the arrival of a new face in town, maybe the inspiration to finally step up to your obligations kicks in.

Give Me Coffee, Utah Love ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ 4k

sleazy!joel 'mullet' miller x younger fem!reader

on the run and looking for a fresh start, a cheap gasoline coffee and to-do list slipping from your bag later, you (have lost your mind and) consider this stranger's proposition.

Let The Lights Bleed All Over Me ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ 4k

dark jackson!joel x younger!reader

you're known for your kindness and sunshine personality, but they make it impossible for joel to have you for himself. and one thing you know about joel miller, is he isn't a patient man.

I Can Fix Her (No Really I Can)‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ 5k

jackson!joel miller x younger!reader

jackson's loud mouthed spoiled princess has suddenly gone quiet. what or who could be behind such miracle?

To The Devil I Know ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

dbf!joel miller x younger fem!reader (a series)

your infamous girl's trip with your best friend sarah gets crashed by his overprotective dad.

Can We Hit It Now, Low-Down And Gritty? ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ 6k

dieter bravo x younger fem!reader

the last thing you need is world-renowed asshole slash actor dieter bravo to yell at you for doing your job. he'll pay for that.

Tuyo Será, Y Tuyo Será ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ 5k

javier peña x younger fem!reader

after an stressful day at the office, javi finds solace in your warm embrace: you, his informant, who he has yet to cross that line he always crosses, like a goddamn vice.

He Comes Alive At Midnight (Every Night) ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ 6k

max phillips x younger fem!reader

everyone in your office is turning into vampires. literally. the unbelievable scenario only seems to get worst when you find out the one behind it all is your ex-boss, max phillips.

To Know You Is To Love You ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

harry castillo x younger fem!reader (a series)

the one where you, new york's top divorce lawyer, tries to break off a couple that isn't even married, and that may or may not involve a certain million dollar man whose name you'd said before in a shaky breath.

Misery Reigns My Lonely Neon Nights‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎6k

old man!logan x younger fem!reader

logan should've said no. should've just drove the pretty waitress home. that's his job. hers is to serve his cup of coffee to the brim. so why is he riding you to his house?

X Si Volvemos ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎1k

ex older bf!logan x younger fem!reader

there are many things you and logan disagree in but not when it comes to things in bed.

A Pillar I Am Of Pride ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ 3k

vander x younger fem!reader

you're too young, that's what he tells himself; that you could be one of his kids. but of course you have spent too much time with vi, and unfortunately for him, stubborn rhymes with your name: you just don't know when to quit.

The Rock N' Roll Got Harder and Softer‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎5k

eddie brock x younger fem!reader

common sense isn't really your strongest suit. so here you are, riding a stranger's bike on halloween night. hey, he saved you! with one hell of a costume, no doubt. because it has to be one, right?

Knockin' On Heaven's Door‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Pt. 2‎‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎4k

eddie brock x younger fem!reader

you're what people call a ray of sunshine, probably the most likeable person in the planet. so why is this hot idiot next door so mean to you?

Drunk In Love‎‎‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎3k

eddie brock x younger fem!reader

you don't exactly hate your job as bartender. well, sometimes, like when customers who can't take a no show up. your boyfriend decides to take matters into his hands, or better said, tentacles...

Sabor A Chocolate ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎2k

eddie brock x younger fem!reader

your boyfriend eddie and his symbiote pal just make sure you know how loved you are.

©dilf-docs all right reserved. last updated: march 12th, 2025 / cr: divider @kodaswrld

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #24

When Danny Fenton got into MIT, he thought the biggest challenge would be balancing ghost hunting with college coursework. What he didn’t expect was to impress Dr. Jane Freaking Foster—renowned astrophysicist, literal genius, the mind behind the Foster Theory, and, unbeknownst to her, his idol since age thirteen—during a campus science expo when he presented his thesis on interdimensional ectoplasmic lattice fluctuations as a potential fuel source for wormhole stabilization. He thought she’d walk by his booth with a polite smile. Instead, she paused, squinted at his equations, asked three rapid-fire questions, then turned to the MIT faculty and said, “Is this kid legally allowed to work in a government lab yet?”

That’s how he became her apprentice.

Danny thought it would be, you know, an internship. Fetch coffee, carry papers, maybe input data if he got lucky. What he didn’t expect was to be living in New Mexico three months later, standing on a roof beside Jane Foster while she casually pointed at the sky and said, “If this gravitational anomaly maintains its trajectory, we’ll have a Yggdrasil branch brush up against the heliopause by Tuesday. That’s new.”

Danny nodded, mostly pretending he understood.

What neither of them anticipated was Thor crashing into their lives again like a golden retriever with a god complex and a hammer. He landed dramatically during a research presentation, lightning still fizzing off his cape, and made such eye contact with Jane that the projector screen behind them shorted out.

And then he saw Danny.

“Young one!” Thor bellowed, eyes wide, blond hair tousled by divine winds, “You must be her son.”

Danny blinked. “I—what?”

“Of course!” Thor clasped his shoulder. “You have her radiant intellect and tenacity. Truly, you are worthy of Midgard’s finest mother.”

“I—she’s not—” Danny tried.

Thor turned to Jane, face alight. “You did not tell me you had borne a child! And one so strong in spirit! A scholar of the stars!”

Jane rubbed her temples. “Thor. He’s nineteen. I met him last month. He’s my apprentice. He is not my son.”

Thor shook his head gravely. “Say no more, Jane. I understand. You wished to protect him from the dangers of our past. But I vow upon Mjolnir’s handle, I shall be a father to him.”

“What the hell,” Danny muttered.

Over the next few days, things escalated fast.

Danny woke up one morning to find a goat outside the lab. A live goat. Wearing a ribbon. The tag read: For my brave son, may his mornings be strong of milk and noble of beard. Jane nearly choked on her cereal. Darcy screamed and immediately named the goat “Spacey.”

Thor showed up during Danny’s lecture on cosmic radiation and brought a sack of Asgardian textbooks written in glowing runes, which promptly caused two lab interns to faint and one professor to file a complaint.

Danny begged Jane to tell him this would stop.

“No,” Jane said, sipping her coffee without looking up. “You’re his emotional support stepson now.”

“I don’t want to be anyone’s emotional support anything!” Danny cried. “I have ectoplasmic trauma and insomnia!”

But Thor persisted.

He invited Danny to spar in the desert, claiming it would “toughen his warrior instincts.” Danny blasted a crater in the sand when a ghost startled him mid-match, and Thor wept with pride. “Such fire! Truly, a son worthy of thunder.”

Jane sighed. “You’re going to give him a complex.”

“I already have a complex!” Danny yelled from where he was half-buried in sand.

Then came the night Thor pulled Danny aside with intense solemnity.

“Daniel,” he said, kneeling, “I seek your blessing.”

Danny froze, halfway through a sandwich. “I—what—blessing for what?”

“To court your mother.”

“She’s NOT my—!”

Thor raised a hand. “Please. I know you wish to protect her. But my heart is true. I have spent long hours learning Midgardian courtship. Observe.”

He pulled out a guitar. A guitar. From nowhere. And began strumming aggressively while singing off-key.

“Oh Jane, fairest in the stars, your eyes burn like a neutron quasaaaaaar—”

Danny screamed into his sandwich.

Jane screamed into her coffee.

Darcy recorded the entire thing.

By the time the Avengers got wind of what was happening, it was too late. Tony Stark showed up purely out of pettiness.

“So this is the ‘son,’ huh?” he said, looking Danny up and down like he was a new model of iPhone. “You do look like Jane. Same ‘don’t talk to me before coffee’ vibe. But with a sprinkle of sleep-deprived raccoon.”

Danny glared. “You must be the one Jane threatens to launch into orbit when she’s annoyed.”

“See? Family resemblance,” Tony muttered.

Then Steve Rogers took Thor aside and whispered, “Are you sure he’s her kid? Jane would’ve told us if she had a child.”

Thor nodded gravely. “It is the only explanation. He speaks with passion, has knowledge of the stars, and I saw him summon green fire from his hands!”

“It was a ghost, Thor,” Danny shouted from across the lab. “It was literally a ghost trying to possess a vending machine!”

“Exactly!” Thor beamed.

“Thor. I’m nineteen. Jane is thirty-seven.”

“She is a goddess among mortals. Perhaps she birthed you when she was five.”

“That’s not how—YOU KNOW WHAT, NEVER MIND.”

Soon, even Loki showed up, slinking into the lab with a smirk like a serpent in silk.

“I had to see for myself,” he purred, circling Danny like a shark. “The mortal child who ensnared my brother’s affections.”

Danny just blinked. “I’m not his kid. Or Jane’s. I’m not even sure I’m awake right now.”

Loki chuckled. “You’ll make an excellent prince. Do you have any interest in necromancy?”

“I’m a ghost half the time,” Danny deadpanned. “Define interest.”

Loki grinned wider.

Eventually, S.H.I.E.L.D. got involved. Fury showed up, took one look at the scene—the goat eating research notes, Thor trying to build Danny a golden throne, Jane yelling about radiation levels, and Danny levitating out of sheer stress—and muttered, “Nope,” before turning around and leaving.

But beneath all the chaos, Danny… didn’t hate it.

Jane never treated him like a kid. She taught him everything, from solar flares to Bifrost trajectories. She let him make mistakes, then helped him fix them. She told him he was brilliant, and for once, he kind of believed it. And Thor, for all his thunderous confusion, brought him starfruit from Alfheim and carved him a wooden Mjolnir as a “coming-of-age” gift.

Danny didn’t even mind the goat anymore.

He still insisted, every day, that Jane was not his mom.

But when Thor presented him with a massive, hand-forged broadsword inscribed with: To my noble son, may your ghosts be vanquished and your GPA ever high, he kind of teared up.

A little.

One evening, as they watched the stars from the roof, Jane handed Danny a cup of tea.

“He really does think you’re my kid,” she said.

Danny took a sip. “Yeah. I gave up trying to convince him.”

“Is it weird?”

“Kinda. But… not bad.” He hesitated. “Do you… mind?”

Jane looked at him, surprised. “No. I mean—you’re not. But if you were, I’d be proud.”

Danny stared at the stars until they blurred.

Later, Thor appeared beside them, cape fluttering dramatically despite the lack of wind.

“I have returned with tales of valor,” he declared, “and also cheesecake.”

Danny took the box.

“Son!” Thor beamed.

Danny sighed.

“Fine. You can have my blessing.”

Thor dropped Mjolnir in joy.

Jane looked horrified. “Danny, what the hell?!”

“I didn’t say I wanted it to happen,” Danny muttered. “I just figured he’d stop bringing me swords if I gave in.”

“He won’t,” she said flatly.

He didn’t.

The next morning, Danny woke up to find a full set of Asgardian armor beside his bed and a note that read: For my beloved heir. P.S. I have begun planning the wedding. Do you think your mother would prefer swans or flaming eels as decoration?

He screamed into his pillow.

The goat screamed with him.

[love-byers]

alright. i'm taking it upon myself to put something to rest.

there is a new mlvn argument on the market, and i have to say, it is the absolute most BACKWARDS, IDIOTIC, WILFULLY IGNORANT take i have ever seen from them. and it is so easily disprovable that i need to make a post about it and put it in the ground early on.

if you've been around since s4 vol1 era, then you've seen the evolution of their arguments surrounding the monologue. first it was "mlvn was love at first sight, because mike said so". they were all posting the clip from s1 ep 1 of mike finding el in the woods, clips from all throughout s1, and saying "this mike was in love with el!!" because mike said so. in the monologue. when bylers pointed out that this claim from mike directly contrasts his behavior in s1, we were called delusional and told we were just coping. i was even told by someone on reddit that mike wasn't acting like he loved her because he was afraid of being made fun of by dustin and lucas, which deserves it's own separate post, but anyways...

after what finn said at the paris con, aka this:

bylers obviously took this as a win, because it very obviously completely dismisses the idea that mike was being truthful in the monologue. because of this, mlvn's argument has shifted. now, they are claiming that what mike said in the monologue, "I knew right then and there in that moment that I loved you." was not a lie, but HYPERBOLE.

here's just a few examples of this.

holy fuck. where do i even start with this...

i guess let me start by saying that i am an english major. i am a creative writing student. english language arts has always been my forte. it's been my best subject my entire life. i was the kid people went to for help in ELA (english language arts). i was the one tutoring my friends. i was the one explaining things to them. in college my friends would line up to get my help with their english work. i edited and revised their essays. i spent close to 10 hours a week in english classes discussing literary devices and analyzing different stories, which i excelled at.

i am not trying to 'flex', i am simply providing context as to why i believe my opinion on this is worth something. mlvns try to say being a writing/film student means nothing in this argument, but it really really fucking does. i, and countless others in the byler fandom, are LITERALLY more educated in this sort of thing than those who did not spend thousands of dollars to study it. sure we may not be renowned writers with masters degrees, but who do you think we learned from?? our professors, who ARE renowned writers with masters degrees. its no different than trusting the opinion of a biology major when talking about biology. of course ELA is more subjective and free, but when you actually study it you find that its more concrete than you'd think. there are definitions, there are guidelines, there are rights and wrongs. of course you do not have to obey those rules, but in the world of publishing and analysis there are things that make sense, and things that don't make sense.

for example. you can totally write a story where a character says "i knew right then and there in that moment that i loved you" and add whatever explanation or nuance that you want. you can write that with the intention of the character being truthful, but maybe exaggerating a bit. whatever you please. you have the creative freedom to do that whether it makes sense or not.

what you cannot do is claim that that phrase is a hyperbole in that context, or any context, because that is OBJECTIVELY wrong. that is incorrect and inarguable. there are phrases that could potentially be debated between those educated in ELA on whether or not it could be considered a hyperbole, but that would requite the phrase to have ambiguous wording. the phrase in question does not check those boxes. it is not ambiguous in any way shape or form. it's not hyperbole. it's not even hyperbolic in any way.

here's a link to an article with 50 different examples of hyperboles. i promise you that our quote in question will not be there, and that nothing on that list will be remotely similar to it.

"I knew right then and there in that moment that I loved you."

i mean you are genuinely a fucking doofus if you're genuinely trying to claim this is a hyperbole. i need you to be so fucking for real. mike is referring back to a specific moment, remember? maybe you don't because i know y'all don't even watch the show, so let me refresh your memory:

"But the truth is, El...I don't know how to live without you. I feel like my life started that day we found you in the woods. You were wearing that yellow Benny's Burgers shirt, and it was so big it almost swallowed you whole. I knew right then and there in that moment that i loved you. And I have loved you every day since."

el even has a flashback to that exact moment in the scene right after he says it, and right before he says "I knew right then and there etc..."

he literally starts it off with "The truth is"

not meant to be taken literally.

would it make sense to say "The truth is, I'm so tired I could sleep for a century." or "The truth is, I'm so hungry I could eat a horse." or "The truth is, I'm dying of laughter."

NO! IT WOULDNT!

mike's monologue was written/approved by the duffers. the same duffers who graduated from a very prestigious film school and created the biggest tv show in the world. they know what a fucking hyperbole is and that you don't preface one with "the truth is". it is genuinely ridiculous to suggest that they let that stay in a scene where a character is supposed to be finally revealing the truth to both another character and the audience.

let's circle back to those screenshots of dumbass mlvns cosplaying as ELA students

"i fell in love with you instantly" vs "i fell in love with you mere days after we met . ur arguing semantics when the point is that they fell for each other really fast"

please tell me, in WHAT fucking world does someone say "I knew right then and there [in the first moment I saw you] that I loved you" when trying to explain that they really fell in love a few days later. and in WHAT UNIVERSE would a WRITER choose to have their character, who is supposed to finally be telling the unfiltered truth, say that. the answer is, there isn't one. that is so fucking backwards and idiotic that i can't believe i'm even having to explain why. the monologue is fabricated. it was written and approved by professional writers and directors. if mike fell in love with el at some later point in s1, or realized it at some later point in s1, then he could've just fucking said that. he could've just told her the moment he fell for her or the moment he realized. they didn't have to make it all twisted and confusing for no reason. he has absolutely no reason to lie or exaggerate (if he is straight and in love with her).

DING A LING A LING A LING!!!!! THATS A BELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"this feels like taking mikes words too literally"

oh, my apologies for taking his words literally during a fucking CONFESSION OF LOVE that he gave her while she was DYING. sorry for taking a line prefaced by "The truth is" literally. you are totally right and i will never do that again!

"when looking back on it it probably does feel like he loved her from the start"

cute sentiment, but that's literally NOT WHAT HE SAID. for the millionth time (see how i just used a hyperbole in a place where it makes sense? where i didn't preface it by saying it was the unfiltered truth?) he said "I knew right then and there in that moment that I loved you." he is saying he saw el in the woods in the rain in her yellow benny's burgers shirt, and KNEW he loved her. he realized it in that moment. that is what he wants el to believe. he is using specific language to pin point the moment he realized it on that moment. like im so serious when i say that if you try to say anything else you genuinely have worms for brains.

any way you logically look at this, it is crushing for mlvn. even if it was a hyperbole, which it is NOT, why the hell would the writers have him exaggerate his feelings to cater to her when it would be much more meaningful for his ACTUAL feelings to save her life?? why would mike feel like he needed to exaggerate?? and i'm sorry, i dont buy the heat of the moment bs. mike has nearly lost el multiple times because he kept lying to her. they had a bad fight days earlier because mike wouldn't tell her the truth. so he finally gets another chance to tell her the truth, and he EXAGGERATES?? HE TELLS A WHITE LIE??? that would also be crushing for mlvn. but none of that matters, because it's not a hyperbole, it's a lie. a flat out lie.

let be me clear, that does not make mike a bad person. in fact, it actually makes him an incredible, caring, selfless person. (remember the synopsis for s4 ep9? "With selfless hearts and a clash of metal, heroes fight from every corner of the battle field to save Hawkins ---and the world itself.") he lied because he knows he doesn't love el the way she wants and he feels like his actual love for her (which is platonic) would not be enough to save her. he devalues his own feelings because they are not what el wants. this is why he nodded after will said "It's scary to open up like that, to say how you really feel. Especially to people you care about the most. Because...what if they don't like the truth?" he feels like he owes el the love she wants, and he is willing to lie to her if it means saving her life. because he truly does love her and care about her, so much that he will do whatever it takes to not lose her.

and i know a lot of mlvn's devalue literary/media analysis and english/creative writing, and our opinions in general, so in case all that wasn't enough, i also asked mlvn's old friend about this. their friend being AI.

mlvns, everything with a lick of sense, including artificial intelligence, is proving you wrong. you are incorrect. what finn said at the paris con put the nail in your ships coffin and you know it. so please stop embarrassing yourselves on the internet and making dumbass claims like this when you know nothing about the subject. you look stupid.

this rant isnt just coming from a place of byler truther anger, it's english major anger. LEAVE MY SUBJECT ALONE. PLEASE.

[dostoyevsky-official]

A Year of Empty Threats and a “Smokescreen” Policy: How the State Department Let Israel Get Away With Horrors in Gaza

The October red line was the last one Biden laid down, but it wasn’t the first. His administration issued multiple threats, warnings and admonishments to Israel about its conduct after Oct. 7, 2023, when the Palestinian militant group Hamas attacked Israel, killed some 1,200 people and took more than 250 hostages.

Government officials worry Biden’s record of empty threats have given the Israelis a sense of impunity.

[...] “Netanyahu’s conclusion was that Biden doesn’t have enough oomph to make him pay a price, so he was willing to ignore him,” said Ghaith al-Omari, a senior fellow at The Washington Institute who’s focused on U.S.-Israel relations and a former official with the Palestinian Authority who helped advise on prior peace talks. “Part of it is that Netanyahu learned there is no cost to saying ‘no’ to the current president.”

[...] Authorities in and outside government said the acquiescence to Israel as it prosecuted a brutal war will likely be regarded as one the most consequential foreign policy decisions of the Biden presidency. They say it undermines America’s ability to influence events in the Middle East while “destroying the entire edifice of international law that was put into place after WWII,” as Omer Bartov, a renowned Israeli-American scholar of genocide, put it.

[...] Time and again, Israel crossed the Biden administration’s red lines without changing course in a meaningful way, according to interviews with government officials and outside experts. Each time, the U.S. yielded and continued to send Israel’s military deadly weapons of war, approving more than $17.9 billion in military assistance since late 2023, by some estimates. The State Department recently told Congress about another $8 billion proposed deal to sell Israel munitions and artillery shells.

“It’s hard to avoid the conclusion that the red lines have all just been a smokescreen,” said Stephen Walt, a professor of international affairs at Harvard Kennedy School and a preeminent authority on U.S. policy in the region. “The Biden administration decided to be all in and merely pretended that it was trying to do something about it.”

[...] Throughout the contentious year inside the State Department, senior leaders repeatedly disregarded their own experts. They cracked down on leaks by threatening criminal investigations and classifying material that was critical of Israel. Some of the agency’s top Middle East diplomats complained in private that they were sidelined by Biden’s National Security Council. The council also distributed a list of banned phrases, including any version of “State of Palestine” that didn’t have the word “future” first. Two human rights officials said they were prevented from pursuing evidence of abuses in Gaza and the West Bank.

[...] Grappling with the near-daily images of carnage in Gaza, many across the U.S. government have become disenchanted with the lofty ideas they thought they represented.

“This is the human rights atrocity of our time,” one senior diplomat told me. “I work for the department that’s responsible for this policy. I signed up for this. … I don’t deserve sympathy for it.”

“The State Department has a whole raft of highly paid, very good lawyers to explain, ‘Actually this is not illegal,’ when in fact it is,” said Ari Tolany, an arms trade authority and director at the Center for International Policy, a Washington-based think tank. “Rules for thee and not for me.”

[...] Several experts told me international law is effectively discretionary for some countries. “American policy ignores it when it’s inconvenient and adheres to it when it is convenient,” said Aaron Miller, a career State Department diplomat who worked for decades under both Democratic and Republican presidents as an adviser on Arab-Israeli negotiations. “The U.S. does not leverage or bring sustainable, credible, serious pressure to bear on any of its allies and partners,” he added, “not just Israel.”

[...] Immediately after the ICJ’s order about the Rafah invasion, officials in the State Department’s Middle East and communications divisions drafted a list of proposed public statements to acknowledge the importance of the court and express concern over civilians in the city. But Matthew Miller, the State Department spokesperson, nixed almost all of them. He told the officials in a May 24 email that those on the White House’s National Security Council “aren’t going to clear” any recognition of the ruling or criticism of Israel.

[...] Current and former diplomats told me that U.S. leaders are fundamentally unwilling to follow through on the Leahy law and cut off units from American-funded weapons. Instead, they have created multiple processes that give the appearance of accountability while simultaneously undermining any potential results, the experts said.

[...] On Nov. 14, more than a year after the war started, Human Rights Watch released a report and said that Israel’s forced displacement of Palestinians is widespread, systematic and intentional. It accused the Israelis of a crime against humanity, writing, “Israel’s actions appear to also meet the definition of ethnic cleansing.” (A former Israeli defense minister has also made that allegation.)

During a news briefing later that day, reporters pressed a State Department spokesperson, Vedant Patel, on the report’s findings.

Patel said the U.S. government disagrees and has not seen evidence of forced displacement in Gaza.

“That,” he said, “certainly would be a red line.”

[galedekarios]

down among the dead men

i finally finished reading sylvia feketekuty's short story in tevinter nights. sylvia feketekuty is also emmrich's writer in dragon age: the veilguard.

i wanted to compile what we learn about emmrich in sylvia's short story.

emmrich likes tea

"What happened then?" the older mage tilted a pot of tea encouragingly toward Audric.

his study is described in detail

Audric shook his head--he didn't feel like tea, particularly--while his eyes soaked in the room. He'd never been in a necromancer's study before. Ornately decorated skulls hung from hooks in the high, dark ceiling. One wall was made up of shelves with books and tiny labeled drawers. The other was fronted by tables full of bubbling flasks, scales, alembics, and tortured-looking glass. A smartly attired servant ground away with a pestle and mortar.

"Excellent question!" Emmrich swirled the tea in his mug, looking entirely too cheerful, Audric thought, for a man framed by so many racks of skulls.

the description of his study in down among the dead men is very, very reminiscent of his room in the lighthouse that bioware revealed a few days ago:

emmrich may have recreated the comforts of his study in nevarra within the lighthouse.

emmrich lets manfred mix tinctures

"Please, don't mind Manfred." The older mage refilled his own cup. "He'll finish mixing that tincture before you know it." Manfred, a clean-boned skeleton, held up a bowl. Audric read something helpful in the cant of its skull. The younger mage looked critical. "It needs half a cup more elfroot." The corpse pulled out one of the drawers on the side of the room, took out a withered root, and shook it inquiringly. "The royal elfroot, please." Manfred moaned and fumbled at more drawers.

emmrich compliments manfred's successes and is proud of him

"Yes! That's the one." The older mage beamed. "Very good indeed, Manfred!"

emmrich's appearance is described as well by audric

Audric dragged his gaze to the older Watcher across from him, with his silvered hair, tidy mustache, and long face full of concern. His expression reminded Audric of the Chantry scholars when they'd caught him reading by candlelight in the library. The good brothers and sisters had kindly tried to dissuade Audric from living in pages for so long he couldn't think straight in the morning.

i think they a phenomenal job bringing emmrich to life (no pun intended).

emmrich is quite informal, cares about putting someone else at ease, he treats audric as he would a living person, never forcing him to arrive at a conclusion or pressuring him

"Is there anything else you can recall about Lord Karn's funeral?" the mage asked gently. "No? I think... not much, sir. Another guard, she, well... Dellah even had to peel him off me, sir." The necromancer waved a hand. "Emmrich will do, please."

macabre sense of humour

"It's... sorry, it's a blur of screams, sir." "Some of it your own, I'd bet," the necromancer joked, but looked so sympathetic Audric relaxed by a degree.

he is indeed a professor/very scholarly

"Myra picked up the curved rib bone. One end was jagged from where Audric's boot had connected with Karn's rib cage. She handed it to Emmrich. "Excellent. Emmrich? This is your remit." "I'll have it ready before sunset." He sighed. "It would be faster if we'd managed to replace the librarian by now. The students have naturally left the books a mess."

this all fits so well with the blurb we were given about him not so long:

"Emmrich is as serious about his duty to protect innocents from the occult as he is about his studies and his interest in the mysteries of the fade."

don't leave the books in disorder, please.

emmrich is renowned to be good at what he does by other mourn watchers

"Myrna seemed content to leave things there, and took something out of a velvet purse. A rib bone. "Emmrich's prepared your trophy for us. His cathexis is very reliable." Audric felt the ground tilt downslope. "Madam?" "His magic." She tapped the rib bone. "This will now guide us to where Lord Karn's fled. Emmrich would join us, but he's been called to other matters."

i had to look up what cathexis means exactly and it's defined as follows:

In psychoanalysis, cathexis (or emotional investment) is defined as the process of allocation of mental or emotional energy to a person, object, or idea. [...] Cathexis comes to us by way of New Latin from the Greek word kathexis, meaning "holding."

myrna uses a skeleton to send a message to emmrich, presumably he might employ similar methods of communication if available

"Good." Myrna sent a mote of light into a nook in the wall. A moment later, a skeleton fell out, hissing and snapping. Myrna snagged it with a collar of green fire, tugged it like a leash. "Does that... hurt it?" Audric asked, more sympathetic to the shambling thing than he'd been a minute ago. "The sensations differ. With some of the dead, one must exert direct control." The skeleton subsided, making a strange whine. "A message," the Mourn Watcher told it. "Find Professor Emmrich Volkahrin. Tell him after some last business in the Winged Halls, we'll be joining him above without delay."

this description reminded me a bit of the brief glimpses we got of emmrich in the very first companion trailer:

emmrich appreciates punctuality & holding oneself to prior commitments

"You heard my message to Emmrich." She crooked a finger, gesturing to Audric. "We'll be expected. It won't be difficult to return from here. Audric looked around. "I can... I'm allowed to come back with you?" "Of course. Myrna lifted her skirts and stepped over a chunk of stone from the fight. "Emmrich will be put out if we don't show up for tea."

emmrich is incredibly kind when dealing with spirits and undead, no matter their rank or standing in life

"They were back in Emmrich's den. Audric had been astonished to see familiar tomes in a neat stack on the necromaner's desk. "Those... are those...?" "Yours, yes. From your home." Emmrich shook his head. "Forgive the liberty, guardsman. After you and Myrna left for the Necropolis, I had to search for a reason you might have returned so unexpectedly." "I believe we found it," Mysrna said, from where she was overseeing Emmrich's manservant transfer the contents of a bubbling beaker into a bowl. Emmrich handed the top book to Audric. It was a gazetteer of Nevarra City, stamped with a crowned skull surrounded by flowers. Audric flipped it open and read the blocky inscription. To our Son with Love. May you be Blessed in your Studied with the Chantry. "All this effort... for me? I'm just a guardsman, sir." Am? Was? Audric pushed doubt aside and held the gazetteer to his chest. He existed, knew what he loved, and that he had been loved, and that seemed enough in the moment. "The great leveler has no favourites." Emmrich smiled. "Neither does the Mourn Watch."

i found this reaction to myrna and audric quite interesting, and i'm not completely sure what to make of it yet:

"You are faced with a choice," Myrna said, coming over. "You have confronted your killer, and recognised your driving passion. You may rest now, guardsman." "Or?" "Or you may work under the auspices of a Watcher," Myrna said. "Under a modicum of magical control. To avoid anomie, the bond must be given freely." "To you, madam?" "If it's satisfactory." The guardsman ducked his head, and because that felt inadequate, knelt on a knee and held out a hand. Myrna, smiling slightly, took it. Emmrich coughed, looking away. "Please, let the poor fellow up. What position were you thinking?" "I thought it was obvious." Audric felt a slow excitement as he heard Myrna say: "We have a great need for someone to take charge of the library."

overall, i really liked this short story.

i loved how audric wasn't aware that he is, in fact, dead and has died a while ago. i loved how both emmrich and myrna didn't correct his assumption, but led him to the realisation. i love all the little insights we got into emmrich as a character, but also nevarra's culture, necromancy and the mourn watch.

it's definitely one of the best in the book. 🖤

[girlsworldillusion]

I'll fake it until you give up (or will it be me?)

Ravenclaw!Barty - Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: The five times Barty tried to hint at a relationship with you, being actively blocked in the process, and the one time you were the one who did it.

Rated: Explicit (+18)

Ella's Notes: This was supposed to be a one shot, yes I know. But it got out of hand and it was so ridiculously long that no one would have the patience to read something like that. So I split it into two parts - but before you kill me, the second part is practically ready, so I'll post it very soon. Let me know what you think of this first part!

In this story I didn't go into any details about the Slytherins mentioned and Barty himself having any association with Voldemort, nor anything about Death Eaters. In fact, you can even pretend that this scenario doesn't exist in this fic, because that was my intention. I wanted to create something independent, an alternative and lighter version of the events. Maybe in a future opportunity I'll write something within this canonical reality, but that's not the case this time.

Happy reading!

Word count: 6,5k

Lovely tags: @just-here-for-ff @amel1ee

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you may find.

i.

You felt bad for the blonde girl next to you in History of Magic class, having to put up with your frustrated huffs every few minutes, born of a complete and utter lack of understanding of the subject. Each class made you feel more confused than the last. Which, honestly, was understandable considering who was teaching.

Professor Binns, oblivious to the students dozing off and openly drooling during his lecture, continued to float tediously around the room with his hands clasped behind his transparent body, reciting every tiny and unnecessary detail about the Goblin Rebellion, his favorite topic to lecture on, with the energy of an old and broken vacuum cleaner.

You glance with some irritation at the nearly blank parchment on the table, your meager notes consisting only of dates and names fished here and there throughout the ghost's monotonous and endless speech - nothing that would guarantee you a good score in the upcoming N.E.W.T.s.

You hate with all your might that your impeccable grade record in all other classes is constantly tarnished by this one hellish subject, year after year.

How was it possible that after so much time listening to the same long and exhausting lectures about the damned rebellion, you still hadn't learned anything substantial about it?

It was clear that this was all Professor Binns' fault and his innate ability to put anyone to sleep in ten minutes of class - five if the day was particularly hot.

"And with that, I conclude today's class." The old ghost's dull, drawling voice rings out and for the first time since class began you feel excited by something he says, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "For the next class I expect from each of you a detailed essay on how Urg the Unclean went from a simple goblin to a renowned leader of the XVIII Rebellion, even having his own image on a Chocolate Frog Card."

The smile dies as quickly as it appears and you slam your forehead against the tabletop with an exasperated groan between your teeth, hearing Pandora chuckle beside you, though she’s certainly as bored with the task as you are.

You turn your face away from the cold surface of the table, cheek pressed against the wood and a defeated look on eyes as you glide disinterestedly across the classroom — which looks as ready to kill themselves as you do. Your expression, however, sharpens immediately when you notice him.

Unlike the other students, who are either openly drooling over their desks as they take the best nap of the school year, or rolling their eyes so hard they might as well end up in the back of their heads in exasperation over this class, he remains irritatingly unfazed.

At first you wouldn’t think he was paying attention in class, not with the nonchalant way he rests his face on his hand, elbow propped on the table. His gaze isn't even on the boring Professor Binns, who's still talking (detailing the damned assignment about Urg the Unclean). His face is tilted over his palm, a sly, soft smile on his lips. And he's looking at you.

You keep the side of your face flat on the table as squint at him suspiciously.

You couldn't say when you first became aware of his stares. And even after you noticed it, for a long time you wondered if you were just imagining it. Of course it could only be your imagination. Why, after all, would he be staring at you at every opportunity he got? There was no apparent reason for it in your mind.

But time passed and what was apparently just imagination changed into an irrefutable certainty. You couldn't pretend not to notice his stares, especially since he never tried to be subtle about it; whether it was over the steamy cauldrons in Potions Class, or from the Ravenclaw table during meals, or the piercing gaze he gave you as he skilfully glided through the air on his broom during a Quidditch match, or even from a strategically positioned spot on the table in front of you as you tried to concentrate and study in the library...

Whatever it was, he was always looking.

And it was already disturbing you. Because, no matter how hard you tried, you simply couldn't understand why.

Of course, your mind always ran to the worst possibility of all. Some cruel little game orchestrated with his friends.

Although he was a Ravenclaw, you knew that most of his friendships was centered around Slytherin. Somewhat questionable friendships, such as; Evan Rosier, Regulus Black, Bellatrix, Rabastan Lestrange, Lucious Malfoy, Severus Snape, Wilkes...

Regulus Black and Evan Rosier seemed to be the most 'normal' of the dysfunctional group nicknamed by the other students as the Slytherin Gang; Regulus with his usual superior and disinterested attitude and Evan with the restless and endless energy of a Cornish Pixie. The others, however, were much more openly unpleasant and frightening.

It was not uncommon for you to have to give detentions to Rabastan Lestrange and Bellatrix Black on your nights of patrol as a Head Girl. You would constantly find them doing something they definitely shouldn't, like sneaking out of the dungeons after bedtime to make out indecently in the castle corridors in plain sight, or even cornering some poor younger student to torture with their cruel psychological games - and sometimes physically.

In any case, Barty Crouch's constant association with this group made you automatically label him as one of them, making you wary and suspicious, especially after noticing his stares at you.

Maybe Bellatrix and Rabastan were using him as a channel for revenge on you after all those detentions?

Although, knowing the sadistic and selfish streak of the duo, you doubted they would plan to inflict any torture methods on you through anyone other than themselves.

But anything was possible and the longer he stared, the more paranoid you became.

He smiled a little wider and his stupid crystal blue gaze slowly blinked at you, almost as if he could read your mind.

You blushed, widening your eyes slightly. Could he be a legilimens?

You knew he had the intelligence for it. He was intelligent enough that you were absolutely certain that, even though he didn't seem to hear a single word Professor Binns was saying, he already knew every annoying detail of this subject by heart.

Merlin, he had managed to perform and do ridiculously well in TWELVE O.W.L.s during the fifth year! Which is almost impossible to do, unless you're a damned time traveler, or someone with a level of intelligence and academic commitment that is destined for creatures of superhuman level.

You had your suspicions, and envy, thinking that perhaps he had access to a Time-Turner. But, since Time-Turners were only granted through a direct request from the Head of House to the Ministry, who fully trusted that the student would not use it recklessly, you ruled that possibility out almost immediately. No one in their right mind would trust that Barty Crouch Jr. would not use a Time-Turner to open rifts in space-time and permanently alter events of the past and future for purely selfish reasons, least of all the very sensible and intelligent Head of Ravenclaw House.

Which, of course, didn't help with the question of how he did it.

You yourself had fought tooth and nail, basically living like a living dead person throughout the school year to fit as many classes as possible into your free time during the day, and still managed to complete ten out of twelve O.W.L.s. Of course, at the time, you felt incredibly proud of this, since the standard was for a student, even the smartest, to only complete around seven or eight. Your pride, however, deflated considerably when you discovered that Barty Crouch, a guy with a questionable sense of humor and a worrying level of disinterest in seemingly anything that didn't have a pair of nice legs and a skirt, had surpassed you.

Indignation and envy aside, you felt like you were being pushed to the limit with these constant stares.

Pandora thought he was in love with you. An opinion that, respectfully, you laughed in her face when you heard. There was no way in hell that something like that would happen. Not only was Barty stupidly attractive and therefore completely out of your league - but the mere idea of ​​someone being romantically interested in you made you feel...well, weird would almost be a descriptive enough word.

You didn’t want romance. You never really understood the appeal of it, not at such a young age. Love distracts, it makes people lose sight of the goal, it makes them silly and vulnerable. And you didn’t have time to be silly and vulnerable, not with the weight of so many responsibilities on your shoulders, with dreams and grand ambitions waiting for you in the future. And surely no guy who had trouble keeping himself from cumming as soon as he got in your pants would understand that well enough. You were used to keeping yourself apart, it was almost a defense mechanism at this point. While other girls your age were collecting love, you were collecting good grades in the classes. And that was okay.

Don’t get me wrong, you weren’t necessarily a pessimist (but you certainly weren’t someone who believed in anything; your mother always told you that there was more wisdom in proving it for yourself than in believing in mere whispered words here and there). You just didn’t really understand how this whole love thing could be remotely interesting at your age.

And anyone with half a functioning brain cell knows that Crouch is chaos incarnate: loud, mischievous, and impossible to ignore. He's determined to break every rule ever made by man, but somehow still manages to be absurdly endearing while doing it. It just makes you want to run — to hide. He's definitely the kind of trouble you try to avoid as much as possible in your life.

And that's why the possibility of him being in love with you was definitely not encouraged. In fact, you vehemently refused to even acknowledge it. Simply because it wasn't possible — by any means. Neither would he be interested in you in that way, and much less could you afford to accept any soft feelings from him, on the off chance that they were real. So you cling to the only coherent explanation for all this supposed interest of his: cruel intentions.

Yes, that had to be it.

And it's with that thought in mind that you hurriedly gather your things as soon as Professor Binns finally finishes his almost endless speech and dismisses the class.

You don't look to the side as leave the classroom with brisk steps, but feel his gaze following you anyway.

ii.

Regulus Black was very handsome.

Like, unfairly handsome.

You stare at the Slytherin with a fair amount of jealousy oozing from your pores, a pout on your lips and a furrowed brow. The guy, for his part, doesn’t even seem to be aware of your spiteful gaze upon him, taking elegant, measured bites of the chocolate pudding on his plate, nodding discreetly every now and then to agree with whatever his chatterbox neighbor is saying.

He clearly doesn’t want to engage in any conversation with the boy, but he’s too courteous and polite to make any rude comments about it. Because of course, he’s Regulus Black.

With his aristocratic nose elongated in an undeniably masculine way, but maintaining a delicate curve and a pert tip in a disturbingly cute way - the soft dusting of freckles over the bridge only intensifying the cuteness. His thick, dark eyebrows, drawn in a perfectly symmetrical arch. His pale, smooth skin like the most flawless marble sculpture. His beautiful, onyx curls, framing the sides of his face like he was some ethereal creature from a fairy tale. His eyes, deep-set and beautifully flickering between green and blue, surrounded by the most ridiculously thick curtain of dark lashes you’d ever seen on anyone. And that was just Regulus Black’s face. It was taking absolutely everything in you not to start a detailed analysis of his damn tall, ripped Seeker body.

Now, you hadn’t planned on spending the night cataloging how many unfair ways Regulus Black managed to be more pretty than any other boy you’d ever seen in your life — by Merlin, he was prettier than most GIRLS you’d ever seen, too. You definitely didn't plan on feeling completely humiliated by his appearance that night, as if you looked like you'd been beaten by a Whomping Willow and never recovered from it.

None of that was in the plan, but at some point during Professor Slughorn's endless ramblings and the pretentious comments from the students of this small and select club of supposedly exceptional young people, you found your mind wandering to unwanted places. Unfortunately, Regulus Black was the one sitting right in your line of sight, on the other side of the table - and the poor guy was the victim of your mental fixation to escape boredom.

At first, you saw Slughorn's invitation as an invaluable honor. After all, you had been included in the extremely selective list of the most promising students at Hogwarts. Your body practically vibrated with excitement in the days leading up to the meeting. You picked out a cute dress for the occasion, fixed your hair and even applied a light layer of makeup. Your expectations were admittedly high and you planned to leave the meeting with some good friends and a lot of extra knowledge in your pocket.

But the meeting was nothing like you imagined.

Yes, the students present were all exceptionally talented in one way or another, and the food was quite good too. But the whole thing proved to be nothing more than a parade of superiority and arrogance, so dull and unsatisfying that it drained your energy within the first few minutes.

Slughorn was genuinely proud of having assembled such a group of model young minds, but the students were only concerned with proving who was better than the other. There was no stimulating conversation and extra knowledge as you had imagined - it was just an irritating and inconvenient contest of who had the best and most absurd lived experiences (most of them made up, you were sure) and who, in fact, stood out with it. 

You wanted to leave within the first fifteen minutes of this verbal ordeal, but forced yourself to stay for the sake of Professor Slughorn, who was genuinely elated by the whole thing.

Black and you were the only ones who hadn't shared any stories with the others, resigning yourselves to discreet and scattered comments here and there, just enough to let them know you were present.

To escape the absolute boredom, you let your mind wander. And that's how you ended up hyper-fixated on Regulus Black and his immaculate beauty. The Slytherin proved to be a very effective source of distraction, although his flawless face showed no emotion, remaining as expressionless as a doll - it was clear that the guy also wanted to get rid of this meeting urgently.

Your attention is only broken when a dramatic noise sounds at the entrance of the room, announcing someone's arrival.

Your eyes widen when you see none other than Barty Crouch Junior stumble into the room, spectacularly late. He smiles broadly at the alarmed looks at his indiscreet entrance, walking calmly with his hands in his pants pocket.

There must have been some mistake, you think in bewilderment as you watch him walk over to the table as if he belonged there.

Maybe he was just here to deliver a message?

Your hunch is proven wrong when he seems to notice your presence with a surprised look, his arrogant smile softening immediately to give way to a more natural, more sincere one. Even with a few options open, you sigh in no surprise when you hear him sit down in the empty chair next to yours, sliding in with the kind of ease that makes it seem like he belongs there, as if he was destined from the start to end up sitting next to you tonight.

You refuse to look at him, turning your face downwards as you busy yourself with sinking the spoon into your own half-eaten chocolate pudding. His audacity to sit next to you only makes you more frustrated - it's not like you're sending out the least bit receptive vibes to his company.

"It's very good to have you with us, Crouch. Even if you arrived later than agreed. It's a shame, I'm afraid you missed some very interesting experiences from your colleagues."

You want to roll your eyes at what Slughorn says from the head of the table, hardly classifying any of those made-up nonsense as remotely interesting, but his presence beside you makes you too tense to do so.

"I'm sorry about that, Professor, I had to finish some important work before I came. I promise I'll be here on time next time."

There's not much sincere regret in Ravenclaw's voice, in fact you swear you can hear something mischievous in his words, which almost makes you want to lift your head to look at his expression.

But, determined as you are to ignore anything Barty would no doubt say to start a conversation, you tilt your head down a little more so that your hair partially hides your face, still showing great interest in the pudding. Crouch, breathing beside you, makes a small sound of confusion at the obvious walls you’ve been putting up, before the sound turns into something akin to amusement.

“You know, ignoring me isn’t going to make me leave,” he says cheerfully — far too cheerfully for someone who’s supposedly (and rightly so) being ignored on purpose.

His recognition of your intentions means you can’t keep up your charade any longer. So, with a heavy sigh, you peer through your hair, already knowing what to expect.

There, right next to you, casually sitting like he was the male protagonist of some clichéd, cheesy romance novel, Batry Crouch smiles.

You feel your eye twitch.

Unlike Regulus, with his ebony curls elegantly arranged around his face, Barty always had that look of someone who tossed and turned all night in bed and didn't even bother to use a comb when he woke up. Locks of light brown hair stuck out in every direction, a mess of strands as chaotic as absolutely everything about him. A few lighter strands stood out among the brown mess, oscillating in a rich shade of gold and honey. And oh Merlin, did the look suit him.

"You look so beautiful tonight. I like that dress on you." He comments, seemingly oblivious to what his words spoken out of absolute nothingness could do to you. Or perhaps very purposefully aware of them. "By the way, you always look beautiful so..."

He's waving his hand in the air as if to emphasize the point that those supposed good looks were normal for you. And of course you get really nervous. It's true, no matter how much you try to deny it to yourself. No matter how much you deny the reasons for being nervous either. You're just not used to compliments, from anyone. Yet you appreciate them very much. Not that you're ever going to admit it, especially to someone as unruly as Crouch.

But you're worried that ravenclaw will notice how nervous you really are anyway, Merlin knows that would only boost his ego and further intensify his apparent commitment to poking you in the most annoying ways. It's a colossal effort to try to calm yourself down while simultaneously trying to stop the blush that was forming on your face. But by heavens, it's really challenging to do so when he's staring at you so openly and intently - oh my, he really doesn't have any respect for the boundaries of proper social behavior, did he?

Your eyes sparkle, cheeks turning pinker as you stare at him with a mixture of shyness and a violent session of anger daggers from beneath your lashes. You’re visibly flustered the longer he stares at you (and unlike you, he’s very comfortable with it), your hands fidgeting with each other on the table in a nervous gesture, having long since given up on poking at the poor chocolate pudding.

Barty blinks briefly at your nervous gesture before returning his eyes to yours. “You know you look so cute when you’re all blushing like that,” he teases playfully. “You look like a little strawberry or something.”

You let out a low, uncomfortable meow in your throat, feeling like you could burst into a ball of flames at any moment. What kind of dysfunctional compliment is that? He’s so horrible at it!

“But then again, I’ve never seen you blush that much,” Barty continues as if the observation wasn’t completely humiliating and unnecessary, his head tilted closer to your flaming face with genuine interest. Your gut churns and protests, seemingly trying to eat itself. What’s with that damn look on his face anyway? “Wait…do I make you shy, princess?”

You hate him. You hate him so much, You swear to Merlin, Barty is the worst. He can’t let a girl blush without drawing undue attention to it?! Sure, it’s a little like baking in your dress from how hard your body is blushing, and yeah, maybe you’ve never reacted like that to anyone else — but that’s no big deal!

Except Barty’s looking at you like it is. Like he wants to cut you open, dissect your insides and see for himself just how deep your supposed secrets are, and it’s doing things to you.

Your face won’t stop burning. “What a stupid ideia, of course you don’t — of course I don’t…” Your sudden, complete inability to form a coherent sentence only makes you more frustrated. “Just shut up, Crouch.”

But he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t. This is Barty.

“If you’re going to lie about this, at least be convincing,” he smiles wider, a sickly sweet humming sound in his throat, as if the whole situation pleases him beyond words.

You frown, hissing through your teeth as you ball your hands into fists, saying the first thing that comes to mind. “Stop smiling, idiot. This isn’t funny.”

The teasing glint in his blue eyes softens to something gentler at your discomfort.

“I’m not smiling to make fun of you little lion, believe me.”

Barty hums, lifting his hand from the table to reach out towards what appears to be, to your complete horror and shock, your face. Any naughty joke dies in your throat, your eyes widening in response, a blush creeping across your skin. A sharp gasp escapes your parted lips and you blink owlishly at those fingers so close to reaching your cheeks.

The boy freezes along with you, surprised by your reaction, his fingers frozen in midair as if he had been struck by a Glacius. You barely notice, though. All you can hear is the anxious beating of your own heart, the electricity that seems to crackle from the fingertips that threaten to brush against your skin.

He’s not…he shouldn’t be touching you. And he’s not, in fact. But then why does that make you feel suddenly dazed and pliable like long-whipped cream? It’s almost a disappointment that he hasn’t extinguished those last few inches and touched your flaming cheeks. You almost regret not knowing what his fingers would feel like on your skin.

What?

The thought comes so quickly, so naturally, that it almost makes you jump.

“Huh...” He breathes and you blink pathetically, coming back to the present with a startled expression and hands strangely damp with cold, nervous sweat. His eyes grow curiously darker, and he realizes, you know he does, you know the exact moment he understands something that not even you are willing to acknowledge, and holy shit, no. Just—no. No.

And when you turn your face away to escape that undesirably intense eye contact (and the equally undesirably feelings that come with it), you realize that damn Regulus Black has finally gotten tired of pretending to pay attention to what the boy next to him is saying. Because now his attention is completely focused on you and Barty and the strange exchange that just happened.

He’s wearing what you’d initially think is a completely neutral expression, but a closer look reveals the slight lift of his eyebrow as he slowly, appraisingly slides his eyes between you and Barty, as if silently contemplating something. For some stupid reason, as he stares at you like that, you feel a lot like a child caught by mom doing something their shouldn’t. He seems to find whatever he’s looking for when he allows a small, almost imperceptible smirk to lift the left corner of his lip, his sharp gaze shining with far more mischief than you’d expect from someone as emotionally distant as him.

You silently wish the ground would open up and swallow you right there, taking you to the deepest abyss - or any fucking place where you can just forget this whole thing ever happened. Your face is so heated with humiliation that you can literally feel your cheeks tingling with red, which only makes Regulus’s smirk grow a little wider.

Your resentment towards Barty Crouch Jr and his colossal guilt in this unspeakable situation grows along with that stupid grin.

“I’m leaving,” you announce abruptly, much louder than necessary, glad that Slughorn is now too engrossed in a conversation with a Hufflepuff in the far corner of the room to notice your cowardly and untimely exit. Before you do, however, you narrow your gaze at Barty while practically hissing through your teeth. “And, by Merlin, you better forget this whole thing ever happened or I swear I’ll spell you and make you vomit slugs all weekend, Crouch. I’m just going to — damn, just...bye.”

And then you’re off, without even allowing the ravenclaw to answer you — he’s already said too much, anyway.

Your stubborn gryffindor streak is trying too hard to sugarcoat the situation and convince you that this was a brave and completely strategic exit, to avoid more trouble. But the truth is, it's just you running, shamelessly running away with your tail between your legs while you can still feel Barty Crouch's gaze burning into the back of your neck and Regulus Black's annoyingly knowing smirk etched into your mind the entire way.

iii.

You never neglected your duties as Head Girl, ever.

So it was extremely unusual that you, on your patrol night, would be hiding in a dark, secluded alcove with a gray cat curled up on your lap while you cried everything you hadn’t cried in longer than you could remember.

You supposed it was bound to happen sooner or later, given the circumstances. But it was really inconvenient that it was on the night of your patrol.

A few days ago you received an owl from your parents with the news that your aunt, probably the person you loved most in the world, had passed away. Despite your intense feelings for her and the absolute shock of reading the letter, you didn’t shed a single tear. Not that night and not in the nights that followed. You grieved, of course; silently and internally. But for a moment you truly believed that this was it - this was all the grief you would ever feel.

Maybe you felt things differently than other people. Maybe you didn’t need to wallow in grief and tears like most people tended to do during their mourning.

And then, as you were patrolling the halls earlier that night, you spotted a cat approaching. At first, there was nothing special about it; cats were everywhere in the castle. Except this cat, furry and gray and with the smug air of someone who was countless miles above you in the social hierarchy, was almost identical to the cat your beloved aunt had kept. The same cat you spent the summers teasing, fluffing its soft, well-groomed fur while the animal gave you its best utter scornful glare — your aunt’s laughter ringing in the background, amused and affectionate.

And that was it.

Before you even realized what was happening, you felt the first tears roll down your cheeks, chest shaking with a shaky sob that fought to escape your lips. Like a burst dam, you felt something break inside you, intense and abrupt. There was no way to control the torrent of emotions that threatened to suffocate you, all you could do was run to find a place where no one could witness your collapse.

The cat, surprisingly, followed your hurried steps all the way, settling between your ankles as soon as you found a safe alcove, wrapping its long tail around your legs as you slid down the wall until you fell to the floor. You cried and sobbed and it purred the whole time; its soft, furry little body rubbing against your skin in a strangely comforting way. It made you feel a little better with its presence, the way it went out of its way to keep you company - as it knew it would do you good at that moment.

Small sobs escape your lips and the weight on your chest threatens to suffocate you for a moment and you choke, covering your mouth.

It's clear that this is undoubtedly a dramatic and unfortunate consequence of trying to internalize your feelings as you always do. But the worst thing is knowing that, when this sudden storm of emotions passes, you'll do it again. Because that's what you always do with your feelings. Run and hide.

The only consolation is knowing that no one other than the poor cat who had the misfortune of crossing your path (or would it be the opposite?) is witnessing this embarrassing moment. You're alone.

At least you think you're alone — until you're not anymore.

The flames in the braziers arranged on the stone walls cast shadows on the floor as someone approaches. And you don't need to look up to know who it is. There's no need to, because you feel the weight of his gaze, the same impossible-to-ignore gaze as always. You know it's Crouch without a doubt and you don't want to be seen like this. Not by anyone, but certainly not by him.

This seems to be enough of a motivator for the cry to die in your throat and suddenly your focus is solely on getting away of here. Get away from him. You need air, space, something.

You stand on shaky legs so fast you feel dizzy, your balance already precarious from the headache from crying so much, and the impact makes you stumble. For a split second, you think you might fall — your ankle twists awkwardly, the world tilts — and then a strong hand grabs your wrist, another braces on your back, steadying you before you can hit the ground. The cat running away during the confusion.

You don’t process what happens immediately, the abrupt turn and your own reeling mind making it hard to form a coherent judgment. Your mind is still stuck on running away and I can’t breathe, and it takes a second to realize that Barty is holding you upright, his hands firm but careful on your body, his expression wavering between amusement and concern.

“Hey hey little lion, what’s the rush?” He teases as always, but his voice loses its careless tone as he seems to get a better look at your face. And you can only imagine the shitty visual you’re giving off. The flames on the walls highlighting the wet trail of tears on your flushed cheeks, your eyes puffy and red from crying, teeth sinking into a quivering bottom lip, hair messy around your face. You look like hell, and you know it.

It doesn’t help that Barty is still examining your face, his eyes narrowing beneath heavy brows that furrow together.

You pull away from him, a little too quickly, a little too abruptly.

“I’m fine.” You spit before he can elaborate on whatever it is that’s on his mind.

Crouch doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?Because honestly, princess, It's not what it seems.” He tilts his head to get a better look at you. "Did someone hurt you? Tell me who made you feel like this, please, I swear I-"

"I said I'm fine." You cut off the endless stream of words, looking down as you adjust your shirt against your body, shifting the weight to your other foot, ignoring the new wave of tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. In the same way that you purposefully ignore how his readiness to solve whatever it is that made you feel so bad makes you feel...things. "Go bother someone else, Crouch."

Barty exhales, something heavy in the sound. You look up at the sound, almost uncomfortable with the change. For the first time, his blue eyes aren't filled with that same joy or mischief its always had. Just something inquisitive, something that makes your chest ache in a way you don't have the strength to deal with right now.

"Why...why do you do this?" he asks, softer now, but no less intense. Your brows furrow in confusion at the question, eyes still bright with unshed tears. He sighs, giving you a look that is nothing short of wistful. “Why do you try so hard to pretend that you don’t need anyone to care? You always act like you carry the whole world on your own and you’re doing just fine.”

Your fingers curl into your palms. Your lips tighten. You don’t want to hear this. You don’t want to acknowledge how close his words are to the truth. Your throat tightens.

“Why do you care?”

Barty lets out a sigh, tilting his head slightly, his eyes scanning your face as if you’re something he’s trying very hard to decipher. Then he laughs, low and humorless.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” His voice is lower now, something dangerously close to vulnerability. Your fists clench to the point of pain at your sides. “I care because it’s you.”

You blink at him, unable to understand, unable to accept whatever it is he’s trying to tell you. In fact, something inside you whispers that you do. But it feels like too much, like more than you can handle, more than you can comprehend. You feel impossible, a being made of knots and thorns, too tight in your own skin.

“Please,” you sigh then, tired and tearful, the next wave of tears finally spilling over your waterline to run down your wet cheeks, “let’s not do this now…I just, please—”

“Shhh,” he silences your incoherent protest as he pulls you closer with a firm but still gentle tug on your wrist. Your head sinks into the hard planes of his chest as you follow the pull with the naturalness of a wooden doll, your eyes wide and still leaking water — because, Merlin, he’s hugging you.

Your nose is buried in the white dress shirt of his uniform, and the first thing you notice is how strangely good he feels. Warm and comfortable against the chilly wind that blows in through the hallway’s openings, smelling like the wood that fuels the flames of the many fireplaces around the castle’s many and the fresh mint of the tea you drink before bed. And you don’t know what to do with it, what you’re supposed to be doing here. Your body is stiff and trembling as he gently wraps his arms around you, as if you’re something priceless, leaning in so he can bury his nose in the roots of your hair.

“Relax.”

And as if that small, whispered ‘relax’ was all you needed to pull yourself out of your own mind, you slowly feel every muscle beneath your flesh give way and do exactly what he asked; your body relaxing against his, doe eyes blinking against the softness of his shirt, lips parted as you let his presence comfort you.

He feels safe, trustworthy. And it’s so rare that you feel this way that even though you know it would be over in an instant, you don’t want to, and it doesn’t matter, and…your fingers ache to touch him back. It feels like a lifetime before you allow yourself to and you’re returning it. You wrap your arms around his waist to hug his back, gripping the fabric under your hands so tightly it hurts, but you can’t bring yourself to let go, face sinking into his chest to sob some more. Please, don’t make him let go.

“It’s okay, we’ll have time to talk later,” he murmurs into your hair, “I’m not going anywhere.”

And he doesn’t. He lets you cry and sob into his shirt, completely ruining it in the process. But Barty doesn’t care, not even when you sniffle and move to pull away after realizing how messy you’ve been. He just mumbles, 'It's okay, princess, I just want to help you feel better' - something that makes you blush and cry a little more. Because, good heavens, no one has ever said something like that to you.

At one point, you realize that you're both sitting on the floor, his back against the wall and you're half-sitting on the floor, between his legs, face still against his chest - feeling his deep, even breathing calm you down.

By the time tears stop falling, you're exhausted. You've been exhausted for so long, but this kind of exhaustion is different. Better. You realize that you're lighter now than you've felt in a long time, thanks to Barty Crouch Junior. And you...don't know how you feel about that.

And you're too exhausted to think about it.

But you do know one thing.

You don't hate this comfortable contact with him. You don't hate his fingers gently combing through your hair, untangling knots you didn't even know were there. You don't hate his whispers close to your ear, reciting the name of every constellation visible in the dark sky.

You certainly don't hate this moment of peace, a white flag you've raised to wave lazily between the two of you.

When you pull away some time later, struggling to smooth out your wrinkled skirt and shirt, you mumble a thank you to him with heated cheeks and shy eyes. And when he smiles back with his hands in his pockets and head tilted to the side, telling you not to mind, that it was nothing - and you freeze, feeling...

Disappointed?

It was nothing, really. This could never be anything other than 'nothing'. But for some reason, hearing that from him hits you in a completely unexpected and senseless way.

He notices the change in the shine in your eyes, rushing to rephrase what he said with a series of 'wait, that came out wrong' and 'please, I didn't mean it like that'. But you calm him down, assuring him that everything was fine and that it really was nothing, he’s more than right about it.

Before he can argue with that, you’re walking, smiling over your shoulder as you bid him a hasty goodnight before rushing off to your dorm.

Barty was right. This was nothing.

[officialnostradamus]

Thinking about...

Emmrich and Rook after the chaos. About love undying, of course, also devotion and domesticity and learning, together, what those things mean when the world isn't crashing around their ears.

Thinking about tumultuous nights after The Events where Rook, kind and passionate, is aimless. They went so hard after one thing for so long and they don't know what to do with themselves. They love watching Emmrich thrive back with the Mourn Watch, happy that he's happy, but it's intimidating to see how seamlessly he melds back into his old life. Within a week, he's returned to performing his regular rights and duties within the Necropolis and crafted his next syllabus. Before the month is out he's drafted a guest lecture for the College of Magi, and begun outlining his book cataloguing their experiences (it's titled simply "The Veilguard", however the subtitle is nearly a paragraph long).

Rook hasn't yet decided if they're ever returning to their work with the Shadow Dragons, and they aren't even sure if they're needed. It's an evening of particular frustration where Rook is snippier than usual when they finally admit how they feel, and how guilty they are about feeling that way. They don't expect Emmrich to kiss their forehead and remind them that grief isn't linear, and no two people handle it the same, finding the root of the issue with graceful precision. They're able to talk about it, to understand each other a little more, and find out how they move on the same path at different paces.

Thinking about how they travel to Kirkwall months down the road. The blight, desiccated and crumbling beneath the sun every day, has mostly been cleared from the Free Marches and though it will be years before anything could be considered recovered, Kirkwall has a tenacity about it. It was one of the things that he loved so dearly about it, and why it was the perfect place to honour him. Rook doesn't cry as they unveil the memorial fountain in the city square, across from the renowned Hawke estate. A quill, well, technically a fountain pen, hovering over an open book - an homage and a pun at once, it was perfect.

Emmrich cries then, soft silent tears of awe as he is struck by the size of the crowd, the outpouring of love, and the presence of their friends. He apologizes, "I was never lucky enough to meet the man, he was your friend, dearest." Rook chuckles, tucks into his side, and reminds him that he likes that passion.

Later, there's fewer of them, now crowded into The Hanged Man. Rook has met the famed Aveline Vallen, somehow still acting Viscount of Kirkwall, and the Archon, Dorian Pavus, is drinking, in his words, swill from a dented flagon. His escort is possibly the largest man Rook has ever seen even without the horns. Bull claps them on the shoulder and congratulates them on saving the world and mutters something about "redheads" that gets him a scorching look from the Archon. A little over a tankard in, Isabella is standing on a table telling a story about her time with Varric in Kirkwall. "It's a hard-on in Hightown!" She crows and the nameless figure whose been shadowing the group all evening groans. "It's just Hard in Hightown, Isabella," the dark haired man corrects and when she cackles, "Whatever, sailor," that's when Rook breaks.

They have no control over it. The sudden wave is overwhelming and it bubbles up like a laugh, like hysteria, and then they're sobbing. No one seems surprised and they do the kindest thing of all, leave them be. The crowd continues their merriment, and Emmrich's arms fall around Rook, he presses a kiss to their temple and asks gently if they want to leave. No. They stay. Emmrich keeps their hand the entire night and makes Rook laugh with a bold story about drinking an entire bottle of wine on a late night as a student. Compared to Isabella or Dorian's stories, it's incredibly tame. For Emmrich, the details about mercilessly ripping apart a distasteful professor's presented thesis was downright vicious. By the time they do call it, Rook's eyes are still puffy and grief isn't linear, but Emmrich's cheeks are rosy and his laugh is warm and they lean on each other as they take the stairs.

They live in Emmrich's apartment in the Upper Mortuary. It just makes sense. Rook hasn't had their own place since they were recruited by Varric and Emmrich's tenured quarters are neatly kept and well appointed. Emmrich is never more at home than within the Necropolis and Rook feels safe there. Steeped in magical protections and practically a fortress, it has always seemed to them a space outside of the regular world, timeless. Even though they leave whenever they want to, and spend time in the rest of the world to pursue life, the isolation does begin to wear. When Rook starts to feel antsy they get nervous, afraid that they're falling back into old habits, and terrified that its selfish of them to want anything different. They know how much all of this means to Emmrich; how can they ask for anything else?

At first, Emmrich is also nervous. He can't imagine giving up his work, leaving the Necropolis, though he believes he would, for Rook. As he realizes that all Rook is asking for is a few months, he laughs. Soon, they're both laughing. It's a dream spending the seasonal break from students in a tiny flat in Minrathous where they can breathe the sea air and wander through familiar yet ever changing markets. They stand on the balcony and Emmrich's hand rests low and comfortable on Rook's back as they gaze into the ocean, no longer so afraid of drowning.

They aren't the sort to languish away in obscurity and when the needs of the many arise, one, or both of them are happy to intervene. Emmrich's expertise is unmatched and he offers it freely to those in need, especially when there is an uptick of spirit possession after the troubles with the veil. Spirit, not demon. A confused joining or desperate seeking, he is happy to search for solutions. Rook spends time in rebuilding efforts, fixing damages from the blight and preventing bandits and looters from doing even more harm to those impacted. It does mean they aren't always together. For the first couple of months, they're inseparable and it takes time feel comfortable being apart, but they manage. They're busy, ambitious people with so much to do.

They miss each other desperately.

After a long stint visiting Lucanis and working on restoring Treviso, Rook returns home by surprise. They're too impatient to wait the day and they slip into Emmrich's lecture. By now, the graduate students know them. Most of them also recognize the look when Emmrich notices Rook in the back. He's a consummate professional, and he makes it through the first falter, though his eyes are wide and he seems a man who has just remembered how to breathe. Then Rook grins and he excuses himself from the lectern. One embrace isn't enough and their kiss isn't necessarily class appropriate and, still tangled in each other, Emmrich says it. He doesn't mean to. There is a plan, flowers, candles, and music; the same song they listened to that night. Perhaps it wasn't meant to be. His arms are full of Rook and despite being away they smell like home. "Marry me?"

---------

Huh. This was supposed to be just a tiny head-cannon as I consider the future for my lovely boys. Got away from me a little but damn do I adore them so I hope you enjoyed this unedited stream of words. Tune in later for the NSFW version, 'cause legit, that's what I was initially getting at. Please, ask me about my head-cannons, I'd love to elaborate (I say on a post that was supposed to be a paragraph and is now one-shot length). I need to sleep 😘

[kirain]

Part one of my appreciation project.

@bankabb A fic based in their wonderful art piece here. Thank you for feeding the fandom!

The library was small but inviting, a cozy space tucked away from the world outside. A silent refuge. Shelves lined the walls, filled with well-worn books and trinkets that evinced a lifetime of study. The room was usually dim, the windows shut tight, protecting the leather spines from harsh light or the threat of humidity, but today the curtains had been drawn, allowing the pale evening sun to spill across the floor.

A long table shimmered under the amber rays, the surface cramped with half-drunk cups of tea—and a few indulgent mugs of coffee that, in all honesty, shouldn't have been there. But Dahlia couldn't resist. She sat across a wide linen couch, her short frame propped against a pillow, her knees slightly elevated as she took another sip of the sweet-bitter liquid. She had convinced herself she needed it, the book in her lap demanding attention no book ever had.

With idle patience, she turned a leaf, her lips curving faintly—not in reaction to the content, which was dry as parchment, but because she was reading it for him, her fingertips fondly tracing the margin of the page. Emmrich. It was his work, his world. If she wished to understand him beyond shameless flirting and the necromancy she'd already perfected, she had to meet him in the places where his mind dwelled, even if it meant enduring the dull intricacies of subjects she refused to touch even as an initiate.

Normally, she loved to learn, revelling in the opportunity, but this was a difficult read, even for one as intelligent as her. Yet, it didn't frustrate her, it made her admire him more. Emmrich was a man of great renown among the Mourn Watchers for a reason—brilliant, unwavering, and passionate about everything he pursued.

"...can you read?" a quiet voice broke out.

Dahlia's head snapped up, her violet eyes narrowing. Emmrich stood in the doorway, dapper as ever, a slow smile stretching across his face.

"Oh, very funny," she huffed, snatching up an aptly named throw pillow and flinging it at him, playfully.

"What?" Emmrich laughed as he caught it with ease. "What did I say?"

"You mocked me," she giggled, taking no offense. "You asked if I could read!"

Emmrich's smile faltered before a wholesome chuckle escaped his throat. "Darling, I said, 'Is it a good read?'"

A shy blush spread across her cheeks. "Oh. I thought—" She pressed her fingers to her temples, rubbing at the tension. "I'm sorry, I must have been lost in thought."

"A scholar after my own heart," he teased. "What are you reading, anyhow?"

Before she could answer, the tall, striking man ambled towards her, his expression keen and curious, his accessories gleaming in her spectacles. Suddenly, a flicker of embarrassment stirred in the pit of her stomach, her knees clenching to cover the book. She didn't want him to know she'd sought out his writings not to study the Fade, but to study him.

Then, it struck her like lightning to a spire—perhaps the text itself wasn't difficult. Perhaps the real reason she struggled, the reason she kept flipping back and rereading the same lines over and over, was because her fantasies ran rampant: imagining the way he must have looked hunched over his desk, eyes sharp with focus, his slender hand flexing along the pages as he obsessed over every word, every stroke of his quill.

"Oh, it's... well—" she stammered, but it was too late.

The couch dipped beneath Emmrich's weight as he settled by her feet and, without preamble, gently grasped her leg, shifting it just enough to see the title. Veilbound: A Treatise on the Fade and the Nature of Transcendence by Professor Emmrich Volkarin. He paused, and for the briefest moment, Dahlia could have sworn she saw his cheeks flush—just before he smoothed it away, hiding any trace of humility behind a sly grin.

"You poor thing," he quipped, leaning closer. "Must be boring you to tears. Some of my closest colleagues haven't been able to get through it."

Not for the same reasons, she hoped.

"I admit, it's not the most thrilling read," she jested.

"How dare you," he laughed, his grip on her leg tightening in all the right places, his thumb stroking her sensitive calf.

She looked away, flustered by the affection. "But I... I'm reading it for you."

The words left her mouth before she could consider them, and Emmrich stilled, something unspoken passing through his gaze. This beautiful, bright, compassionate young woman—even after that night in the Necropolis, even after she bared her soul—he still couldn't believe she wanted him.

And he wanted her. Carnally.

"Is that so?"

With one swift motion, he pulled her legs out from under her, guiding them around his waist. The force of it, harmless as it was, earned a startled gasp as Dahlia slid down into the cushions, the book tumbling from her grasp. Her glasses slipped up to her forehead, her vision blurring before she hastily adjusted them. When her sight cleared, her pulse thrummed in her pointed ears.

Emmrich was on top of her, one hand warm and firm against her thigh, the other bracing himself beside her. His face hovered only a hairsbreadth above hers, his hazel eyes heavy with desire.

"If you wish to know me better," he purred, his voice a shade lower, richer, "all you have to do is ask. I'll share my expertise with you for hours."

Dahlia swallowed, her blush deepening, but she soon gave him a daring smirk. "Anatomy," she challenged.

"Ah, my favourite subject," he grinned. "Though perhaps a bit redundant for an accomplished healer?"

His sharp wit, his effortless denial of her relief—it was enough to drive her mad.

"Maybe I'm testing you," she teased, but the quiver in her voice betrayed her, her defiance cracking under his relentless charm. "Y-your job is teaching. Mine is doing. And you know what they say—those who can't do, tea—"

His lips crashed into hers far too quickly, thrusting the air from her lungs. The kiss was deep, consuming, his tongue tracing along the seam of her lips before delving inside. He tasted her, savoured her, worshipped her with every slow, intoxicating stroke, coaxing a soft, muffled moan from her core.

"Mmph..."

She melted beneath him, her fingers instinctively curling into the fabric of his waistcoat, helpless and hungry. When he shuffled closer, pushing into her crux, she shivered, his heat setting every nerve ablaze with longing and desperation.

And he didn't stop.

Dahlia's toes curled, anticipation flooding her senses as his hand traced a slow path up her thigh—up places that made her squirm—before sliding to the back of her head. With the extra leverage, he pushed their lips harder together, the pressure teetering on the edge of pain. Yet, somehow, he knew exactly where to hold the point of ecstasy, as if he knew her body better than she did.

"Darling..." he rasped, parting from her only a moment before devouring her lips once more.

Time ceased to be, the world fading from memory as their mouths danced in a rhythm of wet, eager sucks and slurps, a symphony of need and devotion.

A guarantee of pleasure to come.

When Emmrich finally pulled away, a thin strand of saliva following his lips, Dahlia was left breathless, her chest heaving in rapid succession. She didn't speak; she couldn't, but her eyes locked onto his—lidded, wanting, and silently begging for more.

He obliged, reaching for the hem of her trousers.

"I think you're ready," he whispered, his voice thick with promise, "to learn exactly what I can do."

[the-joy-of-knowledge]

A Guide to Mastery: Finding Your Life's Work

Mastery is what we hope to attain. We hope to get a point where we become master of our fields, experts of our work, and mentors to younger people. But the big question we ask ourselves is "what should I do?" "what can I do?" "what is my purpose in life?" and that is a very big question that we might spend our entire lives trying to figure out.

It is difficult now, especially when we hear people talk about their careers, we see updates on people's career changes on LinkedIn and everyone is vying for a job in big tech, big law, consulting, Wall Street and you feel left out, not good enough, in fact discouraged.

However, you can find fulfillment by taking this self-discovery one step at a time, at a pace that best suits your skills, and still rise to the top.

Here is how to find your Life's work:

Look back to your childhood

Often to figure out what you want to do or who you want to become you have to look back to your past, your childhood. What made you tick? What classes were most fun for you? Who did you enjoy watching or spending time with growing up? The answers can give you a peek into the kind of life you want. Growing up I enjoyed reading biographies of people. I was obsessed with how they became successful and how they set themselves apart - now my writing mirrors that.

2. Find your niche

The uncertainty or discomfort you feel could be caused by not fitting into one field. You feel like you can do a lot more than there is out there. This is a great feeling. if you feel this way do not be discouraged. It is your life's journey to figure out the intersection of your interest. It is a sign that you should try out multiple things. Your career may become an amalgamation of your interest, ideas, disciplines, and fields. Here are some intersections that I found in people I admire:

Design + Technology - Steve Jobs- Apple Co-founder, Brian Chesky - Airbnb Co-founder

Food + Technology - Apoorva Mehta; co-founder Instacart

Culture + Commerce - Most architects, designers fit this category

Science + Art - Trip Hawkins; founder of Electronic Arts

Community + technology - Whitney Wolfe Herd; Founder of Bumble

Food + business: Kaspar Basse; founder of Joe & The Juice

Sportsmanship + design - Phil Knight; co-founder of Nike

Environmentalism + Sportsmanship - Yvon Chouinard; founder of Patagonia

These people are at the top of their fields. You can start by having a double major, or minoring in a totally different field (Art + Finance, Biology + Sports management etc)

3. Resist the pressure of the majority

There is always a group of people on the other side of your interest and skills - parents, friends, professors, peers who want something different from what you aspire to. You love art but they remind you that the pay is meagre, you want be a lawyer but they tell you, you are not good enough for law. You see, the salary you get paid for doing something you love should not stop you from getting started. You will eventually become so good that the value you provide will eventually command a huge compensation but for now bend down and learn.

4. Find a mentor

Once you get a glimpse of what you feel like you want to do. Find a mentor, your mentor could be distant or imminent. A distant mentor could be a renowned expert, a person you stumble upon through a book, an interview etc. Their story inspires you and you somehow you feel seen, you goals aren't so impossible anymore. The imminent mentors are the people you meet through school, work and whose work has some skills you need to learn for your Life's work. Your relationship with them or experience with them is the closest to reality of your Life's Work. Learn as much as you can in this process.

Welcome to my A Guide to Mastery series inspired by the book Mastery.

[gojonanami]

[ last updated: 10/25/2024 ]

‧ ˚. PROFESSOR GETO SERIES ↳ Professor Suguru Geto is a renown ethics professor, and you're a straight A student whose GPA he's trying to ruin. You're more intent on making him see your brilliance -- but you get more than you bargained for, when the two of you learn about what you owe to each other.

‧ ˚. PROFESSOR GOJO SERIES↳ Professor Satoru Gojo had never failed at anything -- until his latest research project. That's why he had found himself at a weeklong conference, where he discovers the perfect distraction -- you. And he can't help but be drawn to you - even after he finds out that you're the one person he's trying to avoid most

‧ ˚. SATORU GOJO

seeing you tonight, its a bad idea right? | smut, fluff ↳ seeing your ex is always a bad idea, except when its satoru gojo.

bigger than the whole sky | angst, fluff, manga spoilers ↳ before his fight, you and satoru have an honest conversation about the future.

dessert before dinner | smut, fluff ↳ satoru can't wait to have you until you get back from the sister school event, so he plies you with sweet words until you agree to have dessert before dinner.

all's fair (in love and mergers) | long fic, smut, fluff, bffs to enemies to lovers ↳ you're not sure what's worse -- being an arranged marriage or being an arranged marriage with the person who used to be your best friend.

three's a crowd (ft. suguru geto) | long fic, au, smut, fluff ↳ professors satoru gojo and suguru geto rarely wanted the same thing at the same time -- that was until you.

bloodsucker | smut, dark ↳ you had avoided your ex for so long, only to run into him at a halloween party, and he's the same as ever but has his teeth always been that sharp?

got you | smut, dark ↳ satoru finally found you -- and he's not going to let you go this time.

is it over now | angst, fluff, smut ↳ suguru thinks the only way you'll leave him is if he lies to you about cheating on him - and it is. but turns out, you're not so easy to leave - for him and his best friend (ft. satoru gojo). "if you want, i can come inside?" | fluff, crack, domestic ↳ nobara spots gojo with a sorcerer she's never seen before and of course hijinks ensue (aka hearing gojo's english va (kaiji tang) say the above line in apothecary diaries and i lost my mind).

i wanna show you off | sugar daddy au, smut, fluff, slight angst ↳ when you accompany your friends to a bar rich men and women frequent, you catch the eye of a certain white-haired rich man, who is more than willing to spoil you

tastes sweeter on your lips | fluff ↳ on a rare day off, you decide to take care of the strongest sorcerer - with something very sweet.

the doctor is in | smut, fluff, au ↳ when you go to your annual check-up, you didn't think you'd be crushing on your doctor - or that he's conduct such an in-depth examination.

twenty-nine | fluff, angst, crack ↳ it's gojo's birthday, and he can't help but reflect on what birthdays have meant to him over the years, especially the year you decide you don't really want to do anything for his birthday (but it turns out you do).

sit in my lap | fluff, crack, domesticity ↳ you and satoru take your daughter to see santa at the mall, and satoru proves that he's just as much of a match for his daughter, as he is for you.

just a little longer | fluff, angst ↳ after geto defects, you find yourself on a roof of a building wondering where things went wrong - and you're not the only one.

sweet nothing | fluff, angst ↳ satoru always comes running home to your sweet nothings -- except this time.

lower your guard | fluff, smut, au, longfic ↳ after the gojo family receives threats to their lives, you're hired to protect the heir to the company, satoru gojo - you just didn't realize how charming the rich heir would be - and just how hard it would be to resist his advances. don't want any other shade of blue but you | fluff, smut, fake dating, longfic ↳ you can't help but say yes when your longtime crush asks you to be his fake girlfriend for a year to get the gojo clan to stop arranging marriage proposals for him. but little did you know, he would be doing both of you a favor. love means to say goodbye | multi-lives au, fluff, smut, angst, jjk manga spoilers ↳ "would we love each other in every life?" it's the question you asked satoru the night before his battle, and he replied that, of course you would. but did that promise create a curse -- or were you both always cursed to begin with when it came to love? yakuza fiance (ft. suguru geto) | smut, yakuza au, fluff, threesome ↳ you had no patience for the yakuza lifestyle your grandfather had -- you wanted to live a normal life, but when it leaks that your grandfather is in talks to have you engaged to one of two yakuza heirs -- you realize you're in deeper than you thought -- especially when they both fall in love with you.

a house is not a home | canon au, fluff, suggestive ↳ you come home after a long day of work unable to find the person you call home anywhere — until you reach the bedroom (househusband gojo).

just wanna fuck with you, just to make up with you! | smut, modern au, fluff ↳ satoru gojo is the man everyone wants, except you - he pushed you away after you had your daughter, you divorced him. so what happens when he comes to pick up your daughter for his weekend, and he finds you ready for a date?

rumor has it that my best friend loves you (and i do too!) | smut, actor au, fluff ↳ rumors swirl about a love triangle between you and your two heart throb co-stars on the set of jujutsu kaisen. except in this case, you and your two co-stars are happily dating. but what happens when you get casted in a movie where they want you to have a PR relationship with your co-star? especially when your bfs find out who it is

break my soul in two (but you're right here) | angst, manga spoilers ↳ satoru showed no concern for himself -- so you had to, even if no one else would.

beat the heat | smut, fluff ↳ it’s a heatwave in tokyo and who better to spend it with than satoru, who has an interesting idea of how to pass the time — fucking the heat away.

feral for you | fluff, smut, angst ↳ satoru gojo rarely loses his cool. except when it comes to you. so when you get taken, he takes matters into his own hands to find out who did it and make them pay.

yours to keep | childhood friends au, fluff, eventual smut, angst ↳ satoru gojo fell in love with you from the moment he met you at eight years old. and when he sees you again, he knows — he has to make you his.

the honored one | smut, manga spoilers, canon-divergent au ↳ it's your duty as the wife of the clan head to help your husband get dressed -- even for battle. but that didn't mean he couldn't spend some time undressing you.

‧ ˚. SUGURU GETO

meant to be | smut, dark ↳ when Suguru defects, he asks you to come with him -- but he's not going to take no for an answer.

three's a crowd (ft. satoru gojo) | long fic, au, smut, fluff ↳ professors satoru gojo and suguru geto rarely wanted the same thing at the same time -- that was until you.

is it over now (ft. satoru gojo) | angst, fluff, smut ↳ suguru thinks the only way you'll leave him is if he lies to you about cheating on him - and it is. but turns out, you're not so easy to leave -- for him and his best friend

might hurt | fluff, crack ↳ suguru's popularity is truly a curse, especially when he gets hit on right in front of you. luckily, you both know how to handle those situations.

i just want to fuck all night | smut, fluff, sex pollen ↳ after swallowing a curse, geto finds his body in an uncontrollable state of arousal, and who better help him cure it than you?

would it be enough if i could never give you peace? | fluff, angst, smut ↳ suguru's birthday spent with you is like a dream -- the perfect day spent in bliss, but what happens when the dream has to come to an end?

yakuza fiance (ft. satoru gojo) | smut, yakuza au, fluff, threesome ↳ you had no patience for the yakuza lifestyle your grandfather had -- you wanted to live a normal life, but when it leaks that your grandfather is in talks to have you engaged to one of two yakuza heirs -- you realize you're in deeper than you thought -- especially when they both fall in love with you.

‧ ˚. KENTO NANAMI

no regrets | hurt/comfort, fluff, angst ↳ when nanami is injured from his fight with mahito, you're sent to pick him up. and both of your careful avoidance of your feelings for each other comes crumbling down.

armed and dangerous | smut ↳ nanami's arms were always so nice around your throat, but you never tried having his arm between your legs before, until.

good girls get backshots | smut ↳ nanami has always been a gentleman, but he finally decides to play rough and mark you up -- at your request.

five times nanami wanted to propose but didn't | angst, fluff, smut ↳ nanami wanted to propose to you so many times - but it was never the right time, and then, there was no time left.

best part of my day | fluff, domesticity ↳ on a bad day, you give nanami just what he needs, and remind him why you are truly the best part of his day.

all the time in the world | fluff, hurt/comfort ↳ after shibuya, nanami lets you tend to his burns and have an honest discussion about what happened there and what it means for your future. but i'm a fire (and i'll keep your brittle heart warm) | fluff, hurt/comfort, smut, au ↳ throughout your years of jujutsu tech, you take care of kento, whether its a wound from a curse or a simple cut his finger -- and when he returns he finds you still ready to take care of him -- even after shibuya.

‧ ˚. YUTA OKKOTSU

↳ coming soon :)

‧ ˚. CHOSO KAMO

it's a need | hurt/comfort, smut, fluff ↳ after you take an attack meant for him, choso can't seem to understand why -- so you show him just how important he is to you.

hey emo boy! | fluff, smut, au ↳ saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic?

best friend's brother is the one for me! | fluff, au, smut, bedsharing ↳ you've been asked whether you and yuji are together a million times - but the truth is his brother is more your type -- so what happens when you end up sharing a bed one night?

just one more bite! | fluff, modern au, smut, vampire au ↳ choso kamo is your coworker who seems to hate your guts - even though you're both always stuck working together, but the only reason he does is because he wants nothing more than to eat you up -- blood and all.

‧ ˚. RYOMEN SUKUNA

paint the town red | smut, dark, au ↳ you've always been a goody two shoes -- or so your friends say -- so what happens when you decide to do the first bad thing you've ever attempted and try summoning a demon -- and it actually works?

the girl next door | smut, age gap, modern au ↳ you had grown up next door to the itadoris, but you never had met their uncle. and for good reason, he had spent the majority of his life in and out of jail. but now he was finally out, and he only had one goal in mind -- getting you in his bed.

‧ ˚. YUJI ITADORI

don't want you like a best friend! | best friends to lovers, fluff, fwb, smut, au ↳ yuji itadori has been your best friend since you were kids, and when he offers you to teach you how to fuck, you don't expect him to be able to find his way into your heart too.

jealousy, jealousy | smut

which of the men whimper | smut

spooning the dilfs | fluff

jjk men and if they're good at singing | crack

all tied up | smut

househusband suguru

househusband nanami househusband gojo (1) (2) (3)

mindreader nanami

geto swallowing a aphrodisiac curse

gojo - maybe in another life

guitarist! suguru x opera singer! reader (1) (2) (3)

frat boy! suguru x nerd! reader (1) (2) (3)

curse! suguru (1) (2) (3) bringing suguru back to life

[merakiui]

thinking about riddle who has a crush on his professor and is doing all that he can to be noticed in class. it’s not exactly a difficult undertaking, considering he’s already top of his class and has academic renown. you expect only the best from him because it’s what he continues to give: perfect scores on exams and assignments. he always goes above and beyond, even wanting to skip ahead in the chapter because he’s already mastered what the class is currently learning. though you understand his passion for learning, you advise him to slow his efforts or else he risks academic burnout.

however, when a certain exchange student [insert name here, but for me it has to be either azul or floyd >:D] suddenly joins class halfway through the year and proves to be a formidable opponent in the classroom riddle feels as though his status as your number one is jeopardized. he can’t allow himself to lose the status of star student—something he’s worked so hard to get ever since he fell in love with you.

he’ll do whatever it takes to stay on top.

[akutasoda]

hello!! platonic dr ratio with a teen!student reader who excels at one particular subject but is bad or average on the others? also lacks social skills

student knowledge

synopsis - when one of his best students start falling behind in other courses

includes - dr ratio - platonic!

warnings - gn!teen!reader, fluff, slight angst + crack, maybe ooc, wc - 1.1k

taglist - @teddirika, @frankiesteinn, @little-miss-chaoss

dr ratio was renowned across the galaxy for many things - a member of the intelligensia guild, a bright scholar or even a professor of sort. his students specifically knew him very well as the esteemed scholar who had no time to spare for idiocy. due to his many degrees, ratio offered a variety of subjects to lecture on and most of the time his students did take more than one, whether it was multiple from him or from various other professors.

a common complaint that ratio received was from students who have had chalk thrown at them or even hit over the head with his codex - should they be unfortunate enough to be sat in the front row. however it couldn't be said that he was a bad teacher as he was quite the opposite, no matter how foreboding he seemed when chalk would be launched across the lecture hall faster than the students could track.

exam season had surfaced yet again and that meant ratio would have to spend time toiling over the mistakes of his students, to which he believed was only due to their incompetence and unwillingness to learn.

he let out another sigh as he pushed another students exam to the side, 67/100, he had yet to be impressed by the results and he had no hopes of that changing until he glanced at the name on the top of his next paper. he perked up slightly, maybe there was hope afterall. he briefly remembered you as the quietest student he had who aat at the back and kept to yourself but you were by far his best student in that subject so he never had any complaints. your test certainly hadn't disappointed him this time.

---✩

dr ratio didn't particularly like to interact with the other professors unless absolutely necessary, mainly because he didn't hang around long after his lectures had finished. however he couldn't help but overhear one talking about you in your recent test - it was only mere curiosity that begged him to listen in. although he started questioning if they were actually talking about you when they began talking about how you had one of the worst scores.

surely they were talking about someone else? if you were his best student surely you wouldn't be doing worse in other mediocre professors classes? maybe it was just an unfortunate day for you and next time you'd do better then everyone he was sure of it.

some may say ratio just held you in high esteem and they would be partially right - it was quite the achievement to gain the attention of the scholar. he had seen something in the way you answered the questions he poised and the fact that you excelled magnificently in all tests for his class reinforced the idea that you were one to watch. ratio didn't play favourites but if he did you would be one.

he had seen you in his lecture later that day and observed that nothing seemed the matter, you sat there in silence and didn't even break it when he hit another student square in the head with a piece of chalk. he was tempted to pull you aside afterwards to ask about your other subject results but he knew that it wasn't his place to say anything - it was your course and he wasn't your teacher - so he let it go.

---✩

as much as he tried to forget what he overheard, he couldn't. something didn't sit right with him at the idea that one of his best students were struggling in another subject (in his opinion a worthless subject). perhaps you were pouring all your effort into his lectures and neglecting the others... maybe if he loosened up your homework you'd pull your grades up in that subject - he could always play it off as your reward for doing so well in the test.

you almost questioned dr ratio when he didn't assign you extra work but you opted to stay quiet and take the rest. admittedly you did feel as though you should pull back in your studies for his class as your other subjects were suffering, naturally or not. perhaps you should use this as an opportunity to bring those grades up...

unfortunately that didn't seem to help. you had a surprise test in the subject and you couldn't help but stare at the mediocre score with a grimace plastered on your face. perhaps you should just stick to getting good grades in ratio's classes.

admittedly it had soured your mood but you didn't think it would be so noticeable until dr ratio asked you to stay behind after his lecture. at first you thought you're grades had also dropped in his class but ratio seemed to diminish those thoughts immediately.

'i don't take interest in my students lives but when one of my best students looks down i have to worry it may affect their scores' he started and you almost hung your head in a small bit of shame 'what's happened?' ratio observed as you wordlessly reached into your bag and dragged out a test.

you shyly handed him the test, practically ashamed of your score. normally ratio would let his ego get the best of him and he would scoff at the low score, but he didn't. instead he scrunched it up and threw it onto his desk, your eyes widened in surprise as you never took dr ratio to do suchh a thing.

'a bad test score shouldn't define your mood. you are a excellent student who just needs to focus their efforts elsewhere for the time being' you were quite shocked as you never took the doctor to be one to dish out compliments 'if push comes to shove is hall intervene and help you get those grades up but i doubt it will come to that'

due to your rather introverted nature you could only muster up a small nod at the compliment, ratio noticed you're slight uncomfortableness and dismissed you.

ratio didn't have favourites, but when someone gains the attention of him he can't help but want to push them to flourish in everything they do.

[smehur]

HP Rec Fest 2024 Summary

This event was delightful! I didn't have a rec for every day of December, but I did for most, and a good portion of the recs were for fics that aren't on any of my previous rec lists. I wanna list them all here for ease of reference, but also because:

✨ The artwork in all the banners is my own! ✨

It's scanned watercolor or acrylic on paper, all made in the last several months, mostly while listening to podfic :D

👉The pictures link to the original rec posts. Enjoy!

Albus Potter and the Elixir of Erised by @bettsfic

After dropping out of Hogwarts, Albus moves to London and deals an addictive potion to Muggles. Now the most wanted wizard in the country, he goes into hiding at Malfoy Manor, enduring terrible withdrawal which renders him powerless in the hands of his best friend's father: Draco Malfoy, the only man willing to help him.

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain by @faith2wood

It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that's ever so cross.

A Present by @faith2wood

Sometimes you just have to give yourself a present and kiss Harry Potter.

Draco in Darkness by plumeria47

Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight. After Harry elbows his way into Draco's dark world, both boys find themselves in a strange new friendship, and they each learn new ways to see each other … and themselves.

The Sin in Your Grin (and the Shape of Your Mouth) by @xylodemon

The Order needed Sirius, but he doubted they'd mourn him very long when he finally disappeared.

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl

Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

Running on Air by eleventy7

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.

Alphabet Soup by @phoenixortheflame

Harry Potter, investigative reporter for the Daily Prophet, leads a perfectly adequate life. When he’s not trawling back-alleys for a juicy story, he’s playing tea party with his favourite niece or eating curry with his former house-elf. Draco Malfoy, renowned chef in muggle Paris, was perfectly content living a life of obscurity. But when his mother’s health begins to fail, he must return to wizarding London and face his past. When Harry gets an odd assignment to interview the enigmatic chef of the new muggle-wizard restaurant Le Cerf, he’s reunited with his childhood bully - and is reminded just how much a person can change in ten years. Hijinks, mystery, and food-related dirty talk ensue when Harry receives an anonymous tip of a blackmarket dragon trade and enlists Draco to be his concierge into the shady underworld of the wizarding elite.

Twilight Eternal by @hsvh-hp

Wherever Draco is, the sun sits eternally on the precipice of setting. His father feeds his peacocks on the manor grounds. Harry is the only one who can communicate with Draco. A malevolent force haunts the house, nipping at Draco’s heels. Draco intended for himself to come to this place. He only wishes he could remember why.

A Doll's Tale by @faith2wood

Harry/Draco, as observed by Draco's childhood doll. Please note, this doll is very self-absorbed.

Per my last letter (I hope you choke on it) by @fluxweeed & @lastontheboat

Dear Mr Potter, The answer is, and will remain, a no. Sincerely, Draco Malfoy Accounts Manager, Phoenix Press Or: the one where Harry has writer’s block and Malfoy isn’t helping.

Turn by Saras_Girl & podfic by Queenie_Mab

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

The Boy from the Piano Shop by @soliblomst

After going blind in a reckless attempt to avenge Ginny's death, Harry battles with severe depression. One day, he stumbles upon a quaint piano restoration shop in the heart of London and meets the owner, a kindly old man, and his introverted young apprentice, whose voice sounds strangely familiar. As Harry and Draco slowly reconnect through private piano lessons, the small workshop becomes Harry's refuge, offering him a glimmer of hope in a world without eyes. (Set five years after the Battle of Hogwarts)

A Dark Place in Time by Leporella

What on earth was her son thinking, falling for Harry Potter of all people, Narcissa wonders. But after the death of her husband, she finds him useful in many, and sometimes surprising, regards.

vapour by @yiiiiiiiikes25

Draco's getting cruised. Isn't he?

Probationary Action by @toomuchplor

As part of the terms of the probationary contract, DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY shall submit for inspection his WAND on the last day of every month, such inspection to be carried out by a duly registered and fully qualified AUROR in the employ of the MINISTRY OF MAGIC, and such inspection to include a PRIORI INCANTATEM spell to ensure that no PROHIBITED MAGICS as heretofore described have been practised by the aforementioned probationer.

The Illusion that One Can Get Things Right by umbrellaless22

Blindsided by Ginny's sudden departure from his life, Harry struggles to care for his family—replete with a new baby. The situation plummets from disarray to pandemonium just as Draco Malfoy arrives to drop Scorpius off for a visit, because of course it does.

Glory by @mintawasalreadytaken

Every boy at Hogwarts knew about the hole.

A Case of You by @epitomereally

Draco was doing just fine working as an Unspeakable in Paris, hanging out with his living and ghostly pals, inventing new spells, and definitely not thinking about Potter. Then, Lucius just had to break out of prison and turn his world upside down. Now, Draco has to return to England, where he is forced to confront how family ties bind us—and one infuriatingly fit Harry Potter.

with a fabulous Podfic by @cailynwrites

You can also see all my HP Rec Fest 2024 posts here. 👈