#long distance energy transfer

[nasa]

The Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope’s flight harness is transferred from the mock-up structure to the spacecraft flight structure.

Your Body is Wired Like a NASA Space Telescope. Sort Of.

If our Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope were alive, its nervous system would be the intricate wiring, or “harness,” that helps different parts of the observatory communicate with one another. Just like the human body sends information through nerves to function, Roman will send commands through this special harness to help achieve its mission: answering longstanding questions about dark energy, dark matter, and exoplanets, among other mind-bending cosmic queries. 

Roman’s harness weighs around 1,000 pounds and is made of about 32,000 wires and 900 connectors. If those parts were laid out end-to-end, they would be 45 miles long from start to finish. Coincidentally, the human body’s nerves would span the same distance if lined up. That’s far enough to reach nearly three-fourths of the way to space, twice as far as a marathon, or eight times taller than Mount Everest! 

An aerial view of the harness technicians working to secure Roman’s harness to the spacecraft flight structure.

Over a span of two years, 11 technicians spent time at the workbench and perched on ladders, cutting wire to length, carefully cleaning each component, and repeatedly connecting everything together.  

Space is usually freezing cold, but spacecraft that are in direct sunlight can get incredibly hot. Roman’s harness went through the Space Environment Simulator – a massive thermal vacuum chamber – to expose the components to the temperatures they’ll experience in space. Technicians “baked” vapors out of the harness to make sure they won’t cause problems later in orbit.  

Technicians work to secure Roman’s harness to the interior of the spacecraft flight structure. They are standing in the portion of the spacecraft bus where the propellant tanks will be mounted.  

The next step is for engineers to weave the harness through the flight structure in Goddard’s big clean room, a space almost perfectly free of dust and other particles. This process will be ongoing until most of the spacecraft components are assembled. The Roman Space Telescope is set to launch by May 2027. 

Learn more about the exciting science this mission will investigate on X and Facebook. 

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space! 

[fear-is-truth]

༉‧₊˚. j’s note. for @redskies-7. turned out a bit longer than i expected but only because i adored your request … warnings: mature content. 18+. mastūrbation. fingēring

peter had been on high alert ever since the mission that left you with nasty gashes across your abdomen. the memory of you collapsing, blood soaking through your suit, haunted him, and he’d been an absolute wreck ever since. even now, with bandages wrapped snug around your waist and most of the pain fading to a dull ache, he still treated you like you were on death’s doorstep. “okay, careful, careful,” he’d mutter every time you so much as shifted on the bed. peter would zip over in a blur, fluffing pillows and checking the bandages even when you insisted you were fine.

you had tried to hint that you wanted his attention for something other than fussing over you. but to your disappointment, he’d just shake his head, “uh, no can do, babe,” he’d say, practically vibrating with nervous energy. “you need rest, and i’m, like, a terrible influence when it comes to resting. last thing i wanna do is, y’know, make things worse.”

but you were feeling better. really. and you were tired of the distance he was forcing between you, however well-intentioned it was. late one night, you woke up feeling restless, perhaps a little too desperate. the ache of your injuries having dulled considerably, transferring to a different kind of ache, slow and burning between your thighs. peter was sprawled next to you, completely conked out and snoring softly. wincing, you adjusted yourself into a more comfortable position before slipping your fingers under the waistline of your panties.

you squirmed at the much-needed contact, hoping it would be enough to take the edge off. you bit your lip, trying to stifle any moans… but your small fingers were far from enough to ease some of the pent-up frustration from two long weeks of forced rest. but then, just as you finally felt the tickle of a weak orgasm, you heard your boyfriend let out a low, sleepy groan.

“hey… what’s goin’ on?” you turned your head to see him blinking himself awake, silver hair sticking up in all directions. as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, they landed on the guilty look on your face, how your hands were conveniently under the covers. a slow, lazy grin spread across his face as he put two and two together.

“wait a sec…” he raised an eyebrow, looking far too pleased with himself. “are you…?” heat flooded your cheeks, and you froze, pulling the blanket up over your face in embarrassment. “peter, it’s nothing. just… go back to sleep,” you mumbled, but he only chuckled, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“wait, are you…?” he asked, a hint of poorly concealed amusement in his voice. “no way.” he stretched out his arms and looked at you, that amused smirk making your face go even hotter. “you couldn’t just ask me for help?”“peter,” you whispered, mortified, pulling the blanket up in an attempt to hide your face.

“just—g-go back to sleep.”

“nah, can’t do that now,” he gently tugged the blanket back down to see your face. his smile turned downright devious. “you’re over here trying to go solo when i’m literally right here?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “babe, i’m almost offended. i thought we were supposed to be a team.”

you buried your face in your hands, utterly embarrassed. but, to your surprise, the teasing stopped immediately; off like a switch. peter nudged your hands away gently, looking at you with earnest concern.

“look,” he began, softer this time, “i know you’re still healing, but—i’ll get back in the groove real quick. don’t want you wearing yourself out, right?” peter flexed his fingers, stretching them out with a flourish, and then, his whole hand started to tremble, no that wasn’t the right word — his hand was vibrating. there was a slight blur to it, as his fingers quivered like a hummingbird’s wings, the movement almost imperceptible to the naked eye.

“…or did you forget my specialty?” he wiggled his eyebrows. you giggled despite yourself, embarrassment starting to melt away as peter braced himself with one forearm planted carefully by your side, making sure not to press into your bandaged torso. “so… what do you say?” he whispered into your ear, “let me take care of you?”

and just like that, you were granted something you’d been denied for weeks. peter had always prided himself on his unique style of “multitasking”. thanks to his ADHD, focusing on one thing wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but with you, he was hell-bent on trying. besides, he was pretty sure he could handle it—especially since you’d made it clear you really needed him right now.

“mghm ohmygod yes, right there, right there–”

he let out a little chuckle at your enthusiasm, lips brushing along your jawline as his vibrating fingers plunged in and out of you. “you know i kept telling myself, ‘peter, you gotta be responsible, let her heal,’” his voice dropped, almost like he was letting you in on some big secret.

“but… c’mon, you’re you. how was i supposed to stay away?” he moved to press a kiss just below your ear, letting out a little dramatic sigh. normally, you would’ve been slightly annoyed with peter’s chattiness, but his voice now possessed a soothing quality that served the purpose to ground you… and distract you from the lewd squelches that reached your ears.

“fuck, you’re, like, my kryptonite. i missed you like this,” your fingers were tangled in his hair, threading through the soft, messy silver strands, and as you gave a gentle tug, peter let out a low hum of contentment. his eyelids fluttered for a second, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a lazy grin as his lips continued their slow, lazy journey from your collarbone down to the soft curve of your breast.

“mhm, keep doin’ that baby. you’re so good fer me.”

he mumbled against your skin, swirling his tongue around your rock-hard nipple while sinking in knuckle-deep. reduced to nothing but a writhing mess in the sheets, the only response that sounded from you was a strained whimper, the moment you felt his fingers curl against your sweet spot. the glorious stretch made you realise just how much you were missing out in this two weeks of abstinence, and how hard it must’ve been for peter as well—judging by the way his hips were rocking against the mattress.

“should’ve woken me up sooner—would’ve saved you a whole lotta trouble.” another moan slipped past your lips as peter began to thrust his fingers with more vigour, reaching deeper than you never thought possible while simultaneously maintaining that delicious vibration in his fingertips. the heat that had been building in the pit of your stomach was fuelled with each stroke of his thumb on your on your clit, and within seconds, a mind-numbing pleasure set your entire bloodstream ablaze. as you rode out your orgasm, peter’s other hand slid over yours, lacing your fingers together.

as your breathing finally started to even out, you glanced over at your boyfriend, who was watching you with that soft, starry-eyed look, his teeth catching on his bottom lip. he caught you staring and gave you a small, lopsided smile, reaching over to brush a few stray hairs from your face. “feelin’ better?” you nodded yes, still catching your breath, and leaned forward to press a slow, lingering kiss to his lips, feeling the heat of his erection poke against your abdomen.

when you pulled back, you whispered, “i wanna do something for you, too. with you, to be exact.”

his eyes widened, that hint of pink deepening in his cheeks. for a second, he just stared, looking torn, like he was debating with himself. you could practically see the gears turning in his head, weighing his worry against his own need for you. then peter sighed deeply, running a hand through his messy hair, trying to muster his usual bravado.“okay, fine,” he finally relented, shifting to move on top of you carefully, his hand bracing by your side to avoid putting any pressure on your bandaged torso. “but if i hurt you—or if you start bleeding again—i’m… i’m wrapping you up in so much gauze you won’t be able to move,”

a/n: sorry if this sounded ooc… it’s been a while since i’ve written for peter </3

 fear-is-truth

[tuxebo]

[ 🗯 : in this line of work, you always end up alone. ]

disclaimer: i cannot control if the characters act ooc in some responses, please rate them accordingly with the stars to prevent ooc responses as you continue.

chat with mindanao ! we hit 68k interactions omg im squealing.

prev. ‹ docs. › next. (reqs are open!)

✧ — miles morales:

¹ VISITING YOUR FAVORITE SPIDER-MAN: (best friends to lovers + playdate energy) per your usual routine, you decide to visit your best friend and spend the day helping him fight crime on earth 1610.

² KISSES BEFORE DINNER: (uses of lipstick + mama rio almost catches you) you and miles were alone in his room, you on his lap as you peppered his face with kisses. not realizing how risky that was, mama rio snaps you out of the moment when she calls you to dinner.

³ FALLING ASLEEP ON CALL WITH YOUR IBF: (serious situationship? + long distance friendship) during a late night call, you decided to fall asleep on call together. as much as he'd rather hold you in his arms, this would do for now.

⁴ HE LEARNED TO RIDE A MOTORCYCLE: (established relationship + twin miles) you met your boyfriend through his twin. unlike you and his brother, miles was a goody-two-shoes so to impress you he decides to try something new.

✧ — miles morales (e42):

¹ PHOTO BOOTH KISSES: (fem! user + established relationship) some way, some how, you managed to get your boyfriend to go to a photo booth with you. deciding to take advantage of the situation, you pepper his face in kisses, leaving lipstick marks on his face.

✧ — miguel o'hara:

¹ YOU TEND TO GET INTO PETTY ARGUMENTS: (established relationship) you and your husband often find yourselves in petty disagreements. however, this time, he really pissed you off. your solution? taking your ring off.

² LYLA IS THE BEST WING-AI: (friends to lovers + lyla being a good wingwoman) miguel seemed to be the only one who didn't realize just how attached he was to you. in an attempt to get hq running back to normal, lyla calls you back to hq early.

✧ — hobart brown:

¹ KISSES THAT STING: (uses of lip plumper + established relationship) trying out a new plumper, you forgot to warn your boyfriend before giving him a kiss. now you have to explain why your lips sting and what the hell's a plumper.

² BIG BRO DUTIES: (platonic + siblings au) your brother has never had the best relationship with your parents and eventually he moved out as soon he could. as much as he didn't like them, he still cared deeply about you and decided it would be best to keep you safe in the form of his alter ego.

³ WORLDS APART: (platonic or romantic) hobie may not have a means to get to your world, but he'll find away if it means helping you. when he finds out miguel and the spider-society didn't send back up when you needed it, he does just that.

⁴ ANOTHER POINT FOR SPIDER-MAN: (enemies to lovers + hero!hobie x enemy!user) hobie was indifferent to the trivial crimes you committed but once he realized how desperate the police were to catch you, his interest was peaked.

✧ — gwen stacy:

¹ YOUR EARTH WAS ERASED: (best friends to lovers + comfort) you and gwen quickly became best friends after she joined the spider society. such close friend that she had the tendency to come into the room you had at HQ unannounced. one day, she barged in at the wrong time and finds you crying over the earth you lost.

² KISSES ARE ALWAYS THE SOLUTION: (established relationship) while helping gwen with her makeup, you accidentally apply too much lipstick. the only reasonable solution is kissing her so it transfers— obviously.

 ✧ — spider-man noir:

¹ CHESS AND EGG CREAMS: (enemies to lovers) finally, after years of searching for you, peter was able to get you to fall into a trap he crafted so carefully for you. now that you're here, why not play a little game?

² EASING A DETECTIVE OF HIS STRESS: (detective!peter x bartender!user) you couldn't help but notice that the detective that frequents your clubs has been particularly stressed lately. it wouldn't hurt to start with a drink on the house to relieve that stress.

 ✧ — jonathan ohnn (the spot):

¹ BEING THE SPOT HAS ITS PROS AND CONS: (established relationship) you are one of the only people who doesn't find your boyfriend's new form appalling. but that doesn't mean it's any less scare when his head pokes through holes in the walls.

✧ — benjamin reilly:

¹ WORKOUT ASSISTANCE: (established relationship + ben has such himbo energy and i live for it) it's no secret your boyfriend is a BIG fan of exercise, doing so all around your shared apartment. and the last time i checked, staring is no crime.

[tsotg]

The Monster Hunter and the Hunted Monster

I thought of another universe I might wanna make content for. I know a lot of people already have this type of AU already but I can't resist making my own ;;-;;

Imagine Hiccup has been hunting Jack for ages. Jack has been one of the few creatures he's never been able to catch and that type of challenge is exhilarating. So he keeps trying to find him, luring him out with the threat of harm to his precious forest.

One day, for a reason or another, Pitch curses them both. They're both lost and trapped in a new and un familiar environment. Hiccup is overjoyed that he's finally able to catch Jack when they bump into each other but that feeling doesn't last long. They're both kind of terrified of where they are but won't show it to each other, instead letting it out as anger towards each other.

A few days into their banishment, Hiccup gets desperate. There's no animals to hunt, nothing to grow, he's starving and it doesn't seem like he's gonna get any food any time soon. So he goes to Jack and begs to know how he's not hungry. Jack replies with how he obviously doesn't get hungry because he's a spirit.

Hiccup breaks in front of him, he tells him how scared he is and how much he wants to go back home. Jack gets surprised, of all people, he would've never expected Hiccup to show this much vulnerability.

Jack feels the same as he does, he's scared and he wants to go home. And after settling down and making sure Hiccup isn't trying to trick him, he tells him so.

They talk about how much they love their home, about anything that comes to mind really. Until Hiccup has a fainting spell. Jack hurries to help him but has no idea how humans work anymore. He's been in his forest for so long.

When Hiccup wakes up, Jack asks him what happened. Hiccup reminds him how hungry he is and how little energy his body has. Jack hesitates before telling Hiccup how he has saved people lost in the forest in the same situation before but he's not gonna like how it's done.

Hiccup brushes it off, it can't be that bad right?

Jack presses his lips together in an awkward smile.

"Well- Not a lot of people get lost in the woods you know. And the children can see and hear me no problem. They follow the animals out of the forest. I've only done this twice and the first time I didn't even know I could do it so it wasn't super successful..."

"Just spit it out, if you can save me, do it. I want to go home after we get out of this shit hole."

Jack thought about telling him for a second but he doubted Hiccup would let him after hearing of the process.

"Ok, close your eyes then."

"Why?"

"It'll be easier for the both of us."

So Hiccup closed his eyes after giving Jack an eye roll. Jack took Hiccup's chin, opening his mouth slightly, braced himself and leaned in. As soon as their lips connected, Hiccup jumped in surprise and tried to push Jack away but couldn't find the strength in time before he realized what was happening.

This wasn't just a kiss, Jack's eyes glowed and his skin slowly lost the little colour it had left. He was transferring his energy to Hiccup. And Hiccup felt alive again. He leaned in slightly and enjoyed the feeling this gave him. Until he felt Jack's grasp on him weakened and he regained he train of thought again.

Jack took a second to snap out of the daze this put him in. Hiccup feared for a the worst for a second before Jack blinked a few times and his eyes went back to normal. He looked around for a second, almost looking as if he had no idea where he was. His eyes locked onto Hiccup and fear crept onto his expression. Hiccup felt him tense up in his arms. And then just like that, he took a breath for the first time since Hiccup closed his eyes and he looked normal again.

"For the Gods, if you told me this was gonna kill you I wouldn't have let you to do it!" Hiccup scolded.

"I didn't know it would do that. It never did in my forest." Jack looked off in the distance to ponder for a bit before what Hiccup said actually registered in his head. "Wait you're worried about me?"

"That's not the point."

"Yes it is!"

Jack gave Hiccup as teasing grin. Hiccup completely disconnected from the conversation and got up. Jack couldn't hold back, he kept teasing Hiccup as he tried to walk away.

"Well look who's feeling better." Hiccup tried to say it in a sarcastic tone but couldn't hold back a small smile.

==============

RAHHH PLEASE tell me if you wanna read more!! I will write more! And maybe I'll draw some better art of these gays.

[silverstar70]

Fandom: Criminal minds Character: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Author's note: English isn't my first language, I apologize for any mistakes.

Summary: During a training session, the tension between Hotch and Y/N grew stronger

Warnings: 🔞‼️ new relationship, smut, sexual tension, fluff moments, friends to lovers.

Words count: 4,579k Hope you like it and let me know what you think! Enjoy it!

Something new pt.1

Training session

The BAU training gym buzzed with quiet energy as agents filtered in and out, focusing on their workouts or sparring sessions. Aaron Hotchner, known for his discipline and dedication, was no stranger to this space. However, today, there was an unusual tension in the air, a palpable electricity that seemed to emanate from the presence of a single individual: Lieutenant Y/N L/N.

Having transferred from the Navy to the FBI for a joint task force operation, Y/N had become a familiar face at Quantico. Her strong leadership and tactical skills were undeniable, but it was her long-standing friendship with Aaron that intrigued the team. They shared a history, one that extended beyond their professional interactions.

Y/N had known Aaron before his time at the BAU, back when he was still with Haley. She had always harbored feelings for him but chose to distance herself when she realized he was happy. Now, years later, fate had brought them back together under different circumstances. Haley was gone, and Aaron was a different man—hardened by experience and loss.

Among the agents, Aaron Hotchner stood tall, clad in a fitted black t-shirt and matching athletic pants, his presence commanding even in a casual setting.

Across the room, Y/N tightened her ponytail, adjusting her workout gear. She glanced at Aaron, feeling a slight flutter in her stomach. They had always maintained a professional relationship, but there was an undercurrent of something unspoken between them—a tension she couldn't quite place. Or maybe she could but tried to ignore it.

Today, the BAU was conducting a mandatory self-defense training session. The agents paired off, leaving Y/N and Hotch as the only unpaired duo. He watched as Y/N adjusted her gloves, her movements precise and measured.

She looked up at him, a small, confident smile playing on her lips. "Ready to get your ass kicked, Hotchner?"

He chuckled, a rare sound that softened his otherwise stern demeanor. "We'll see about that, Lieutenant."

They circled each other, assessing, waiting for the right moment. Aaron made the first move, lunging forward with a quick jab. Y/N sidestepped effortlessly, grabbing his wrist and twisting it behind his back. He felt the controlled strength in her grip, a testament to her training.

"Not bad," he grunted, spinning out of her hold. They continued the dance, a series of strikes and counter-strikes, each testing the other's limits.

As the session progressed, the gym seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them. The sound of their heavy breathing filled the space, mingling with the faint echo of their footfalls on the mats. Aaron couldn't deny the thrill he felt—her agility, her focus—it was exhilarating.

Y/N went for a high kick, aiming for his shoulder. Aaron caught her leg, pulling her off balance. She fell back, but not before hooking her free leg around his waist, dragging him down with her. They landed on the mat, bodies pressed together, the heat between them undeniable.

For a moment, they stayed like that, breath mingling, eyes locked. Aaron's hand rested on her waist, fingers brushing against the exposed skin beneath her shirt. He could feel the rapid beat of her heart, mirroring his own.

"Nice move," she murmured, her voice low and husky.

He swallowed, struggling to keep his composure. "You're not bad yourself."

The tension was thick, a live wire crackling between them. Slowly, Y/N disentangled herself, rolling away and standing up. She offered him a hand, pulling him to his feet. As they stood facing each other, Aaron felt a surge of desire, a need to break the unspoken rules they both adhered to so strictly.

With each move, each counter, they seemed to communicate on a different level—silent yet profound. Aaron grabbed Y/N's arm, attempting to pin her again, but she twisted out of his grip with a fluid motion.

"You've gotten better," Aaron remarked, slightly breathless.

Y/N smirked, "You haven't seen anything yet."

She lunged, feinting left before shifting right, catching Aaron off guard. He stumbled back, but quickly regained his footing, a glint of admiration in his eyes. He countered with a swift move, sweeping her legs from under her. She hit the mat with a soft thud, Aaron's body hovering over hers, his breath warm against her skin. The proximity was intoxicating, and for a brief moment, time stood still.

"You've always been a formidable opponent," Aaron said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

Y/N looked up at him, her heart pounding. "You never knew the half of it," she replied, her voice equally soft but carrying an undercurrent of something deeper.

The air between them crackled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Aaron's gaze flickered to her lips before he quickly pulled back, extending a hand to help her up. She took it, her touch lingering a fraction longer than necessary.

They continued the session, but something had shifted. The sparring became more intense, their movements more precise. It was as if they were testing the boundaries of their own control, pushing each other to the brink. The gym seemed to grow warmer, the air thicker with the unspoken tension between them.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Aaron called for a break. The gym door creaked open, and JJ poked her head in. "Hey, we're wrapping up. You two coming?"

Aaron cleared his throat, stepping back. "Yeah, we'll be right there."

JJ nodded, shooting them a knowing smile before closing the door.

Y/N grabbed a towel, dabbing at the sweat on her brow. "That was a good session."

There was a moment of silence, thick with unspoken words. Aaron knew he should step back, and put distance between them. But something kept him rooted in place, his eyes locked on hers.

Y/N shifted, biting her lip. "You know, we should do this more often. Training, I mean."

He raised an eyebrow. "You think so?"

She shrugged, tossing the towel onto a bench. "Yeah. It was...fun."

Aaron's gaze softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Fun, huh? That's not a word I hear often."

She tilted her head, a playful glint in her eye. "Maybe you need to loosen up a bit, Hotchner."

He chuckled, a warm, genuine sound. "Maybe you're right."

Standing there in silence, close yet distant from each other, the room felt small. The air between them cracked with electricity, Hotch lost himself looking at her as a shiver ran along his body and a feeling, he hadn’t felt in years began to spread in his chest. Every muscle tensed at the strange feeling; his stomach tightened, his breathing hitched in his throat and his heart seemed to beat out of his cage.

Y/N felt his eyes on her penetrating her soul, like he was trying to read what was going on in her mind. If only he knew.  “What?”

Her voice brought him back to reality. “Umm, nothing.”

Eager to get up from there, he grabbed his gym bag ready to rush out the door, but Y/N turned towards him at the same time he moved. Face to face, the distance between them was almost nonexistent, she could feel his hot breath on her face.

Driven by some invisible force, Hotch reached out, brushing a strand of loose hair from her face. His touch lingered, fingers trailing down her cheek.

Y/N's breath hitched, her eyes darkening. She leaned into his touch, her hand coming up to rest on his chest. "Hotch..."

He swallowed, his thumb brushing against her lower lip. The sound of his name on her lips sent a rush of heat through him. "We shouldn't," he whispered, even as he leaned in closer.

He hesitated, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him. But in that moment, all he could think about was her—the feel of her skin, the warmth of her body. With a quiet groan, he closed the distance, capturing her lips in a fierce, desperate kiss.

Y/N responded instantly, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled him closer. The kiss was a clash of need and restraint, a desperate attempt to quench the fire burning between them. Aaron's hands roamed her back, pulling her against him as if trying to merge their bodies.

The world outside the gym ceased to exist. There were no rules, no consequences—only the two of them, lost in a whirlwind of desire. Aaron kissed her deeply, tasting the salt of her sweat and the sweetness of her lips. He felt her hands slide under his shirt, fingers tracing the muscles of his back.

They pulled apart, gasping for air. Aaron rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. "We should stop," he murmured, though his voice lacked conviction.

Y/N nodded but made no move to step back. Her eyes were glazed with desire, lips swollen from their kiss. "We should," she agreed, her voice breathy.

They stood there, caught in the aftermath of their shared moment. Aaron's heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of exhilaration and fear. He knew they were treading dangerous waters, but the thought of pulling away felt like a betrayal of everything he wanted.

With a sigh, Aaron gently cupped her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. "We can't let this happen again," he said, his voice firm yet soft.

Y/N nodded, her eyes holding a mix of disappointment and understanding. "I know," she replied, her tone resigned.

They pulled away, the loss of contact a cold reminder of reality. Aaron took a deep breath, steadying himself. He offered her a small, rueful smile. "Thank you for the session. It was...enlightening."

She returned the smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Anytime, Hotchner."

With one last lingering look, they turned and walked out of the gym, the air between them heavy with unresolved tension. As they stepped into the hallway, the sounds of the bustling FBI office reminded them of their duties, their responsibilities.

Aaron glanced at Y/N, who was already putting on her professional mask, her expression unreadable. He admired her strength, her ability to compartmentalize. But he couldn't shake the feeling that they had crossed a line, one that couldn't easily be redrawn.

As they rejoined the team, Aaron felt a pang of regret. He knew he had to be the responsible one, to maintain the boundaries. But as he watched Y/N interact with the others, a small, rebellious part of him wondered what it would be like to break the rules, to give in to the undeniable chemistry between them. A small part of him wished he wasn’t so strict with rules.

As the days passed, Hotch and Y/N fell back into their professional roles, maintaining a careful distance. The BAU team, ever perceptive, seemed to sense the undercurrent between them but chose not to comment. Work carried on, cases came and went, and the tension between Hotch and Y/N simmered beneath the surface.

One evening, after the team had finished a particularly grueling case, Y/N found herself in the conference room finishing some paperwork. Hotch noticed her and quietly entered the room, not wanting to disturb her.

He couldn't help but admire her. She was focused, her brow furrowed in concentration as she studied the files. Despite the exhaustion etched on her face, she radiated a quiet strength that Aaron found both admirable and alluring.

She looked up after a while, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Aaron standing there, his eyes filled with concern.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves.

"Hey," she replied, her tone guarded.

He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving hers. "I wanted to check on you.”

"I’m fine. It’s just being a long day," she muttered, more to herself than to him.

Aaron nodded, watching her carefully. "Yeah, it was. You should get some rest."

She looked up, meeting his eyes for a moment before looking away. "I will. Just need to finish up a few things."

Aaron hesitated, feeling the familiar pull toward her. He knew he should leave, and give her space, but the urge to bridge the gap between them was too strong. He took a deep breath and closed the distance, his footsteps echoing in the empty room.

"Can we talk?" he asked, his voice gentle yet firm.

*

When the team noticed Hotch and Y/N in the conference room, they exchanged curious looks. Around Reid’s desk, everyone was trying hard to avoid gazing towards the conference room, keeping in mind the promise to never profile each other. Rules they broke repeatedly.

Of course, they notice the change in behavior between their boss and the Lieutenant, the tension filling the room every time the other walked into the room, and the stolen glances when they thought no one was watching. 

Truth be told, they hoped something would happen between them. They were so alike, workaholics, strict to the rules but ready to break them to save one of their own, authoritative and well-respected figures. Legends in their environment.

Hotch needed someone like Y/N at his side, someone who could understand the long hours. They never blamed Haley for the divorce, they knew this job took a lot from the people around them too, and wished that Hotch would stop blaming himself for what happened.

As the agents started gathering their things, Emily spoke with a mischievous glint in her eye. "So, what's the deal between them?" she asked in a low voice, just loud enough for the team to hear. "They seem... closer than usual."

Derek leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. "You think there's something going on between Hotch and Y/N?"

Spencer blinked, his brow furrowing in thought. "They do seem to have a strong rapport," he mused, tilting his head. "But it could just be a mutual respect for each other's skills. They're both highly trained professionals, after all."

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "Always the rational one, aren't you, pretty boy? But come on, did you see the way they looked at each other? There's definitely something there."

“Whatever it is, it’s not our business,” Dave spoke, interrupting the arguments.

*

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at it, her eyes widening. “I’ve got an emergency,” she said abruptly, grabbing her phone and standing up. "I need to go."

Hotch’s heart skipped a beat. "Is everything alright?"

She shook her head, not elaborating. "I’ll explain later. I have to go."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and hurried out of the room, leaving behind a trail of unanswered questions. He watched her leave, his brow furrowing and a feeling of unease settling in his gut.

She rushed out of the room, walking past the team to head to the elevators. The team exchanged glances; their curiosity piqued by the sudden change in Y/N’s behavior.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Dave shouted from Reid’s desk, seeing her in a hurry.

“Work emergency.”

Aaron’s gaze followed her as she walked out the glass doors. He could sense that something was off, but he had no way of knowing what the emergency was. He sighed and returned to his office, desperately trying to avoid the team’s question looks.

Hours later, the office was quiet. The team had left for the night, and the building was nearly empty. His thoughts were consumed by Y/N; her sudden departure, the unspoken words between them. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was unresolved, and he needed to figure out what it was.

Hotch headed to the gym with a determined stride, hoping to clear his mind. The gym was dimly lit, with only the occasional beam of light cutting through the shadows. He changed into more comfortable clothes and started placing meticulously the bandages on his hands.

He started punching the bag with a force he didn’t even know he had. All the frustration, all the tension, was drifting out of his body, slowly, too slowly. Y/N occupied all his thoughts, every time she came to his mind, he felt something strange in his stomach. That kiss was wrong, so wrong and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about it, about her.

Later that night, when Y/N came back that night, the gym was deserted. Or at least she hoped so. Already in her gym clothes, she was greeted by the rhythmic thudding of gloves hitting a heavy bag. The sight she met with was Hotch with his shirt soaked with sweat, punching the bag with intense force, his muscles rippling with each powerful strike. His face was a mask of concentration, brows furrowed and jaw set as if he was trying to punch away whatever demons haunted him.

Y/N stood in the doorway, watching him silently, not wanting to intrude. But the magnetic pull she felt towards him was too strong to resist. The shirt perfectly hugging his chest and arms, the sweat scrolling down his face, the grunts he made every time his fits touched the bad, did something to her.

The familiar feeling she felt when they kissed, was growing stronger in her stomach. The sight of him made her heart race, a fire started to spread in her chest, and a sense of admiration filled her. She had seen him in countless professional situations, always composed and in control. But this was different—this was raw, unfiltered Aaron Hotchner.

She leaned against the wall, her eyes never leaving him as he pounded the bag. She could see the sweat glistening on his skin, the way his muscles flexed and strained with each movement. It was a sight that stirred something deep within her, a longing that she had tried so hard to suppress.

The intensity of his workout mirrored the intensity of their earlier encounter. It was clear that he was using the physical exertion to work through his frustrations, perhaps his own confusion over their charged moment.

After a few moments, Aaron paused, wiping his face with a towel. He looked up and saw her standing there, her presence startling him. For a brief second, their eyes locked, and the weight of the evening’s events seemed to settle between them.

“Didn’t expect to see you back here,” Hotch said, his voice rough from exertion.

Y/N stepped further into the gym, her gaze steady. “Didn’t expect to see anyone here this late.”

She walked over to the bench and set down her water bottle, feeling his eyes on her every step of the way. The tension in the room was palpable, a living thing that wrapped around them, drawing them closer together.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

He shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Not at all."

He watched her as she carefully wrapped her hands and moved closer to him, his eyes scanning her face. "You seemed pretty rushed earlier. Is everything okay?"

She let out a sigh, her gaze dropping to the floor. "It was just some work-related stuff. Nothing to worry about."

Hotch wasn’t convinced but didn’t push further. He kept scanning her trying to catch any sign of discomfort. Once she was done, her gaze met his, and for a moment, he saw a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes.

She took a deep breath, her shoulders slumping slightly. She knew that look. "Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Like you have any right to be worried.” She said sharply.

Her words hit him like a train. His features softened as he felt his heart broke in his chest at the pain. “Y/N. Of course, I’m worried. We’re friends.”

Friends. Odd choice of words, she thought, the word echoing in her mind. Friends didn't kiss like that, didn't share the kind of moments they had. But she knew why he said it, why he needed to draw that line. Still, it stung.

"Friends. Right," she repeated, her voice flat. She quickly brushed off her thoughts and changed the subject, not wanting to explore more of his assumption. “Want to go a few rounds?" she asked, her tone casual while heading to the mats in the center of the room.

He sighed, noticing her attempt but didn’t say anything. “Sure, why not.”

The challenge in her eyes was unmistakable, and Hotch felt a familiar thrill. He joined her on the mats, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. They stood facing each other, the air between them charged with unspoken tension.

"Alright," Aaron said, his voice low. "Let's see what you've got."

They began slowly, testing each other's reflexes with light jabs and evasive maneuvers. As the intensity increased, so did the closeness of their movements. Every block, every dodge brought them closer, their breaths mingling in the confined space. It was a dance of skill and desire, each touch igniting a spark.

Aaron's eyes were locked on Y/N's, the heat in his gaze mirroring her own. He feinted left, then moved in quickly, pinning her arms behind her back. She gasped, their faces inches apart. For a moment, they stood frozen, the sound of their heavy breathing filling the gym.

"Got you," he murmured, his voice husky.

Y/N smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Not quite."

In a swift move, she twisted free, using the momentum to sweep his legs out from under him. Aaron landed on his back, the air rushing from his lungs. Before he could react, Y/N was on top of him, straddling his hips. She pinned his wrists to the mat, her breath hot against his skin.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Lieutenant.” He said with a smirk on his face.

She leaned in closer, her lips hovering just above his. “You too, Agent,” she whispered, her tone teasing.

They stayed like that, locked in place, the weight of their unresolved feelings pressing down on them. Aaron could feel the heat of her body, the rapid rise and fall of her chest. His pulse raced, a mix of adrenaline and desire coursing through his veins.

The space between them seemed to shrink, the air thick with anticipation. Aaron's resolve wavered, the boundaries he'd set for himself crumbling under the intensity of the moment. He could feel her breath on his lips, the intoxicating scent of her skin. It was a temptation he couldn't resist any longer.

With a low growl, he surged upward, capturing her lips in a fierce, hungry kiss. Y/N responded immediately, releasing his wrists to wrap her arms around his neck. Their kiss was a clash of passion and pent-up frustration, each trying to pour all their unspoken feelings into the embrace.

Aaron's hands roamed her back, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. He could feel the warmth of her body, the softness of her curves against him. His evident desire was strong under her, sending shivers along her spine. The world outside the gym ceased to exist; there was only her, only this moment. Their kiss grew more desperate, more urgent, as if they were trying to make up for lost time.

Y/N broke the kiss first, gasping for air. She looked down at him, her eyes dark with desire. “This is highly unprofessional,” she whispered, though her voice lacked conviction.

Aaron cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her swollen lips. "I know," he replied, his voice rough with emotion. "But I can't stop."

She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. "Me neither."

With a shuddering breath, she leaned down, kissing him again. This time, it was slower, more deliberate. Hotch's hands slid down her back, tracing the curve of her spine. He felt her shiver under his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

As their kisses grew more heated, Y/N pushed against his chest, could feel his heartbeat. He ran his hands through her hair, his lips trailing kisses along her jaw and down her neck. The taste of her skin was intoxicating, each touch sending a jolt of electricity through him.

One of her hands slid under his shirt and Aaron's breath hitched as her hands touched his bare skin, her touch both tender and possessive. She leaned in, pressing her lips to the crock of his neck. He groaned softly, his hands tightening on her waist.

They paused, breathing heavily, their foreheads pressed together. Aaron looked into her eyes, seeing the same mix of desire and uncertainty reflected in them. He knew they were crossing a line, again, but in that moment all he wanted was her.

With a soft growl, Hotch captured her lips again, pulling her even closer. Their kisses were frantic, their hands exploring each other's bodies with a desperate need. In the heat of the moment, Hotch rolled them on the mats, ending on top of her.

Pulling apart, their eyes locked again. Dark and filled with desire, it was like looking into each other's soul. Aaron rested his forehead against hers, his heart pounding in his chest.

Y/N was the first to speak, her voice playful but barely above a whisper. "Crossing the line again, Hotchner?"

He sighed, caressing her cheek with his thumb. "I know," he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "But I don't want to stop."

She nodded, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and pride. "Neither do I."

They stayed like that for a while, holding onto each other, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. Hotch knew they had a lot to talk about, a lot to figure out. But for now, he was content to just be with her, to enjoy the warmth of her body and the softness of her touch.

Eventually, they pulled away, their breathing steadying. “We should probably get going,” she murmured, a hint of a smile in her voice.

Aaron chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Yeah, probably."

Reluctantly, they separated ready to get up. As they recollected their belongings, they felt a sense of peace. Taking this step forward, not knowing where it would lead was a jump in the dark and neither of them was used to having things out of their control, but this time it felt different. It felt right.

As they left the gym together, Aaron reached out, taking Y/N's hand in his. She looked up at him, a surprised but pleased smile crossing her face. He squeezed her hand, a silent promise that whatever came next, they would face it together.

The night was cool, the stars faintly visible above the city lights. They paused by Y/N's vehicle, and Aaron found himself reluctant to let her go.

He glanced at her, his dark eyes searching her face. "Y/N... Come home with me?" His voice was soft, the question hanging in the cool night air. It was an invitation and a challenge, a step into the unknown. “Jack is with Jessica.” He added

Y/N looked up at him, her expression unreadable. For a moment, she seemed to weigh the gravity of his words. Then, with a slight nod, she smiled. "Okay," she replied, her voice steady despite the tumult she felt inside.

A smile spread wide across his face and for the first time in a long time, Aaron felt hopeful. They walked to his car hand in hand, ready to explore those feelings they tried so hard to ignore over the past few weeks.

Tag: @sweetbearcolorgarden

Read part 2 here

[meazalykov]

caffeine addiction

lena oberdorf x reader

summary: reader struggles with a caffeine addiction

The sun peeked through the curtains of the cozy apartment Y/N and Lena shared in Munich, casting a warm glow over the room. It had been a couple of months since Lena transferred from Wolfsburg to Bayern Munich, a move they had both looked forward to. 

The couple have been together for a few years, meeting through Y/n’s German friends at Bayern since the girl isn’t German herself. Long distance for the first year was hard, but then it got easier before Lena’s move. They not only played for the same club now, but also got to wake up next to each other every morning.

Y/N stretched and yawned, her muscles taut from yesterday's practice session. In the next few days, Bayern is gonna be playing against Benfica in the last Champions League group stage game, so training was tough. 

Playing as a right back or right winger for Bayern Munich Frauen demanded peak physical condition. The girl has scored the most goals in the club (this season) so far, but she is still expected to keep them coming throughout the season. Nobody doubts y/n on scoring in games. 

Y/N thanked herself for maintaining a fit, athletic body. Her strict diet, mainly consisting of protein and grain, plus rigorous workout routines, were a testament to her dedication. Sometimes, she overworked herself (according to Lena, Sydney, Sam, and Tainara) but she knows how to bounce back. 

Except from that one indulgence she couldn’t resist: her morning iced coffee. 

Each day, without fail, she had to have her  small iced coffee with a pump of vanilla and a dash of light cream. It was the pick-me-up that jump started her day. Last season, y/n was late to training due to her need of having caffeine to keep herself awake and active.

“Y/n *laughs* Come on, we are gonna be late!” Lena looks over to see y/n’s hand covering the top of her cup, swirling the contents in the iced coffee together. 

“One second, sorry!” Y/n said and took a few big “gulps” of her iced coffee. Lena had started to notice a pattern with her girlfriend. She wondered if y/n had a caffeine addiction that needed to be talked about. 

“They have coffee in the lounge room over at Bayern, you can grab some there.” Lena said, smiling as she noticed her girlfriend place the coffee on their kitchen island before grabbing her black nike bag, filled with necessary football things. 

“The brand they use to brew their coffee is gross. Plus they don’t have sugar free syrup, just plain packets of sugar or stevia.” Y/n and Lena laughed as they left the apartment, locking the door and quickly headed to training. 

By 4 PM, without fail, Y/N would crash due to the caffeine high wearing off. Lena will chill on the couch as y/n falls asleep with her head in her lap. Y/n’s groggy state left her in need of a nap every-single-day she has coffee in the morning. While naps were common for athletes, the inconsistency in Y/N's energy levels was concerning to Lena. 

Lena put in a google search into her phone that evening, “can coffee cause you to get tired earlier?” and google confirmed to her that it did. 

So the next morning, as Y/N in her comfy PJs sipped her iced coffee at the kitchen counter, Lena hugged her from behind. Y/n sunk into the feeling of her girlfriend’s fit arms around her waist, forgetting about the iced coffee on the counter and holding her hands on top of Lena’s instead.

“Baby, we need to talk about your coffee habit,” Lena began, her whispered tone was serious yet loving. “I’ve noticed how you crash every afternoon due to this. Maybe you should consider cutting back a bit.”

Y/N looked at her cup, then turned her head to look at Lena who still held her. “I know it’s not great, but it’s hard to function without it. I need it to wake up– and for an extra boost of energy at training.”

Lena squeezed y/n’s hand in hers reassuringly. “I get it, but I worry about you. The crashes aren’t good, and this can’t be healthy in the long run. Let’s try to cut back gradually, see how you feel?”

Reluctantly, after thinking for a few minutes, Y/N agreed. 

The first day without her iced coffee was rough. By midday, y/n was battling a pounding headache and a growing sense of anxiety. Lena knew these were withdrawals from caffeine. Luckily, it was their day off before they had to play against Benfica. But Lena stayed close, offering support. “It’ll go away soon, Schatz,” Lena said as she gave y/n some medicine, helping her take a sip of cold water that she grabbed from their fridge. .

The withdrawal symptoms were intense. Y/N felt irritable and on edge, her body craving the caffeine it had grown dependent on. But with Lena’s unwavering support, she pushed through. Lena would grab medicine, prepare some herbal teas she found helpful through the internet, and offer distractions, anything to help y/n.

After their win against Benfica in the last group stage (thanks to a brace from y/n) sending Bayern to the quarter-finals to go up against Chelsea, Y/N found herself feeling more energized throughout the day. 

It was the evening and Lena relaxed on the couch after a long day of training. Y/n was in the kitchen preparing herself a salad when she looked over at her iced coffee “station” she made a long time ago. Making a note to herself to get rid of it to make space for something else eventually, Y/N joining Lena on their couch with a grateful smile. 

“You know, I feel a lot better.” Y/n randomly says as she looks ahead at the TV, which shows the men’s el clasico match live. Cuddling on the couch with y/n laying on her body, Lena looks down at y/n confused. 

“Feel better about what?” Lena asks.  

“I feel better about not relying on caffeine.” Y/n says. Lena smiles in admiration before patting her girlfriend’s head jokingly, “It took you some time.” 

“Hey! At least it happened sometime—Thank you for being patient with me.” 

<3

[luneariaa]

ᯓ★٠ ࣪⭑ BODYGUARD. ( bucky b. )

mentions about you being the politician's daughter but not into that much details for plot reasons, fem! reader, bodyguard! bucky, worried bucky, basically he cares about you but tries not to show it much.

tagging : @xxladyballadxx || dividers by @/steddiecameraroll-graphics !!

Due to the life-threatening attempted attack that happened on public recently-- to which their main target is you, from the bits of investigation being done so far, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, or simply goes by the name Bucky, has been personally assigned to assist and guard you wherever you had to go.

At first, you weren't too thrilled with the idea of someone following you around almost 24/7, but there's no other plausible choice. Your safety is potentially at risk, and you had to accept the offer, seeing your position as the politician's daughter as well.

Bucky used to have a pretty bad impression about you-- thinking that you might be like one of those snobby, arrogant type of person due to your fairly high position to many. But over time, he finds that you're actually nicer than you seemed, though may appear as the opposite at times due to the constant stressful reminder from the previous events.

You didn't follow your father's footsteps into becoming a politician though, preferring to be a normal office worker instead for some understandable reasons.

"All done?" Bucky stands up straight from leaning against the wall nearby, shifting his gaze from the floor and towards you, who just exited the office. A weary with a mixture of an unreadable expression is present upon your features.

Instead of responding with a witty remark or anything similar to it, you merely nodded your head without sparing him too much of a glance; just walking pass him as he follows suit behind.

You weren't really in the mood to talk, it seems. He takes an immediate note of that.

"You good, doll?" The nickname slips through his lips without any second thoughts, any hints of the usual sarcasm within his tone is basically nonexistent. Bucky's expression softens ever so slightly as he lets his gaze remained upon you; to which it goes unnoticed by you.

You simply shrugged wordlessly, not having the energy to tell him anything just yet as your shoulders slumped tiredly, now feeling his presence just near you from the back.

The temporary silence lingers in the air for a few more moments as the two of you got into the elevator; his eyes still silently observing you while mentally contemplating on what to say next.

"Did anything happen at work?"

Your body posture goes tense for a bit, finally exiting the elevator together after several minutes within there. It might be hard for him to admit it, but to see you in a state like this-- he doesn't like it. It actually worries him if anything, trying his hardest on not to show any ounce of it upon his face.

Thankfully, the whole walk doesn't take too long, knowing that your home is just within the same building; transferred not too long ago for safety purposes.

"Yeah." You ultimately gave out an answer, albeit your voice sounded quite strained in a way, nodding at him.

Bucky helps by unlocking the front door using the spare key that was given to him back then-- allowing you to enter first before following after you, locking the door back afterwards.

"Well," he started while crossing his arms, staring at you expectantly. "What happened?"

"Oh well, you know.." You sighed a bit, resting your back against the wall momentarily.

"Some people put out their anger at me and it's probably because of my father."

Bucky clenches his jaw upon hearing your statement, feeling the sudden annoyance to course through his being, but still tried his best to keep everything under control. People surely can be rude at the wrong people sometimes, but hearing that you had to experience it firsthand makes him pissed deep inside.

Without even realizing, he took several steps forward to you-- but still keeping a reasonable distance in case if you got uncomfortable or anything.

"They gave you a hard time, huh?"

You shrugged, now unconsciously walking further away from him toward another direction within the living room. "Like, it's not my fault. I'm not the one who decides those political stuff."

"I know I shouldn't be so sensitive over this issue, but today seemed too much for me to handle anymore.."

His expression shifted to one of apprehension, knowing that whatever inner emotions he's feeling right now is not going to help. After a quick ponder over the matter and choosing his words carefully, Bucky's eyes landed properly upon your figure once again.

"Whatever they've said to you-- it's all bullshit, I know it. It's not your fault at all, doll, and you're not being sensitive, trust me." He's never really good with words of reassurance or something akin to it, but he's trying his best for you, and as your bodyguard.

"Are you able to catch on what they're saying?"

"I don't know, honestly."

"I didn't really pay attention to any of the words they're saying." From your tone usage alone, he could tell that you didn't want to talk about it anymore; wanting to drop the subject so badly, so he stops from asking further.

Instead, he chose to place one of his hands on your shoulder when he drew closer to you, much to your utter surprise.

"You did well. You don't have to listen to them. They're just plain dumbasses for taking it out on you."

"It's never your fault, doll."

You let each of his words rang through your mind; nodding at him with a small grin plastered upon your lips. "I'll try to keep ignoring them, then."

"I might need a break for the week, though."

Your voice lowered as you finally have the courage to tell him more, despite it being a pretty hard decision to make. You just didn't want to face them for the time being.

Bucky returned your nod understandingly-- giving your shoulder a light, reassuring squeeze. "If that helps you, doll, then you should just do it."

"Even just for a week; you deserve a nice break for now. Away from all those things that made you stressed, if that's how you call it." You agreed along with his words, no trace of hesitation present.

For the first time in a few moments ever, the two of you have your gazes locked with each other; all while mentally debating on what to even say next. While still losing yourself within his eyes alone, he gradually removed his hand away from your shoulder-- clearing his throat a tad bit awkwardly, and you averted your gaze away instantly in pure embarrassment, deciding to shower as an attempt to clear your scrambled mind.

Bucky stood there alone as he simply watches your retreating figure; his mind is a total jumbled mess at this point.

@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are welcomed. all rights reserved.

[untitled-tmnt-blog]

Summary of some answers from today's Q&A with Ron Corcillo!

(July 29, 2023)

Bullet points are below the cut, since it's a pretty long list! Some combine multiple answers, and they're categorized for ease of reading (obviously not every single answer is included, but I tried to get most of the ones I thought people might find interesting!)

Apocalyptic Future

The turtles were fighting side by side with Cassandra when Casey Jr was born, and Leo trained him to be a warrior. Casey Jr only has brief memories of his mother from when he was very young, and he was mostly raised by Leo.

The chips on Leo's plastron are probably battle scars.

Mikey was likely the equivalent of being in his 70's. He was powerful enough that he could unlock almost any mystic ability you could think of, but using them took a toll on him physically. The more powerful the ninpo, the more potential it has to sap your energy.

Mikey can open up portals through all of space and time (as opposed to Leo, who can mostly portal over relatively short distances), but it took him a long time to get to that level of ability.

Mikey probably grew a little taller than seen in the movie, but shrank as the use of his powers depleted him. Donnie would be slightly taller than Leo, and Raph would be at least 6'6".

The characters have obviously taken hits and lost some things from years of fighting the Krang, but Leo still does have his ninpo.

They never worked out the specifics for how Raph and Donnie died, just that they lost their lives in the war against the Krang.

Future Leo was mortally wounded in his bleeding side, and that was why he didn't go with Casey to the past.

If season 2 hadn't been cut short

The sudden declaration of Leo as leader wouldn't have happened, and was more of a joke because of how abruptly the show ended. The original plan was for the transition to be drawn out over much of season 3. Raph and Leo probably would have been co-leaders for a while, and the transfer of leadership wouldn't have caused tension since Raph would like to share the burden. There might have been some situations where Mikey or Donnie took the lead, too. Ron never saw the turtles as a group where there had to be one absolute leader.

Karai would have lived for much longer, and been training the boys in person for a number of episodes.

If there was a season 3 / plans they had for future seasons

They probably wouldn't have ever taken a dark turn with the show, but may have gotten into more of an extended plot line after the movie.

The missing sister who was Big Mama's henchperson would probably have been a very disciplined super serious ninja, to the point where she's actually funny. She was going to be named after a female artist, possibly Frida Kahlo, and the turtles would have had to win her back from Big Mama by helping her to see that she had been brainwashed as a child.

Their other missing sister was going to be trapped in another dimension for years, and might have been "a little kooky" from being there so long. The turtles would have split up to rescue their sisters, but there were no definite plans beyond that.

We would definitely see Casey Jr again. Ron would love to see a spin-off where Casey and Cassandra roam the world and fight the Krang and remnants of the Foot.

It was going to be revealed that a Krang spaceship had crashed into the back of the crying titan in the Hidden City. The ship's fuel was the source of the ooze that gives the Yokai their power, and possibly the origin of the Yokai themselves. The crashed spaceship is what drew the invasion there a thousand years ago.

Mikey's powers could have opened the door to some multiverse episodes.

We might have seen some redemption from Big Mama, but then also seen her relapse to her villainous ways.

The Rat King likely would have been the next big villain. Shredder's story is pretty resolved, so they wouldn't have gone back to him, but maybe they could have revived the dark armor. There were no existing plans for Bishop, but once the turtles became better known heroes, he could be a thorn in their side. They would have done a lot more with the Krang.

Donnie probably thinks he's much smarter than Raph, so it would have been fun to do an episode where he got to see how Raph beats him in common sense and emotional intelligence.

The turtles would probably talk to Karai's Hamato spirit when they need guidance.

Season 3 would pick up where the movie left off. They would have launched a new story right away, but the aftermath would have been in the background. We would have seen how they changed as a result of the movie events, as well as how they deal with now being in the public eye as heroes.

Miscellaneous

The 2012 series was very traditional TMNT, so a big goal of Rise was to mix things up. Making Raph the leader opened up a lot of possibilities for both Leo and Raph: Raph didn't have to be angry all the time about not being the leader, and Leo was free to be cocky and fun-loving. It was a breath of fresh air for writers who had done previous TMNT versions.

As for how the turtles take after Yoshi: Donnie got a lot of his cockiness from him, as did Leo. Mikey senses that Yoshi misses his family, and that's part of the reason he always tries to hold the family together. Raph got his courage and sense of duty from him.

For Halloween, Raph would be a kitten, Mikey would be a lion, Leo would be a rock star, and Donnie would be J. Robert Oppenheimer.

Raph's favorite music is R&B, Leo's is glam rock, Donnie's is techno, and Mikey likes boy bands.

When asked about the turtles "favorite" brothers (obviously they all love each other): Mikey is Raph's favorite. As much as Leo gives Donnie a hard time, he really likes him. Ultimately, the three younger brothers all really look up to Raph.

The turtles all had their mystic powers inherently, but they didn't know it and couldn't unlock them without a little boost. Their mystic weapons acted as a conduit.

Splinter has a lot of power that hasn't been revealed, and there's a good chance he can do anything the boys can do if he really tries (which is how he could use Leo's portals). Their powers all would have grown and expanded over time.

Ron really likes fanart of the turtles, Splinter, and April in emotional family situations, as that is the heart of the show.

They didn't really get into romance in the show, but fans are free to use their imagination.

Hueso would never admit it, but he and Leo do have a close friendship.

While Ron doesn't think the show will be brought back any time soon since Nick's focus is on Mutant Mayhem (which he thinks Rise fans will enjoy, since they seem to have a lot in common), he does think it could be brought back further down the road. The most helpful thing is fans' continued support through watching, posting, and spreading the word!

[iovebarca]

Transfer of Heart - Marc Guiu

Authors note: omg spain won that surprised absolutely no one!!!!

Warnings: incorrect grammar (probably), my first language isn't english so if you notice any mistakes please tell me, angsty, fluff!

WC: 1000+

You're standing in a crowded bar in the heart of Barcelona, the vibrant music and chatter of people creating a symphony of nightlife around you. You’ve always loved the energy of this place, the Lower East Side vibe transplanted to Spain. Tonight, however, feels different. There’s a tinge of anticipation mingling with your excitement, a flutter of nerves in your stomach as you glance at your phone.

Then, you see him – Marc. Tall, with an effortlessly handsome look that makes your heart race. His eyes light up when he spots you, cutting through the crowd with an easy confidence that always leaves you breathless.

"Hey," he says, pulling you into a warm embrace. The scent of his cologne wraps around you, a comforting familiarity.

"Hey," you reply, your voice soft against his shoulder. "How was training?"

"Exhausting," he laughs, pulling back to look at you with those sparkling eyes. "But seeing you makes it all worth it."

You both grab drinks and find a quieter corner to talk. The conversation flows easily, as it always does with Marc. He tells you about his day, his teammates, the latest locker room banter. But tonight, there's a tension in his eyes, something unsaid lingering between his words.

"You seem distracted," you finally say, placing a hand on his arm. "Is everything okay?"

He hesitates, then shakes his head with a forced smile. "Just a lot on my mind, I guess. But don't worry about it. How was your day?"

You decide not to press further, though the unease lingers. As the night wears on, you lose yourself in the comfort of his presence, pushing the doubts aside.

A week passes, and Marc seems more distant. He’s been busy before, but this feels different. The late-night texts are fewer, the calls shorter, and there’s a vague, disquieting sense of something slipping away.

One evening, as you’re scrolling through Instagram, you see a post from Chelsea Football Club. Your heart stops as you read the headline: "Welcome to Our New Transfer: Marc!". The accompanying photo shows Marc holding a Chelsea jersey, smiling broadly.

Shock and hurt hit you like a tidal wave. He’s leaving Barcelona. He’s leaving you. And he didn’t tell you.

Your phone buzzes with a message from him: "Hey, can we talk?" But you ignore it. Anger and betrayal surge through you. How could he keep something so significant from you? You turn off your phone, needing time to process this on your own.

Days go by, and you try to focus on anything but Marc. Yet, everything reminds you of him – the places you went together, the songs you listened to, the lingering scent of his cologne.

A week later, there’s a knock at your door. You open it to find Marc standing there, looking desperate and exhausted.

“Can we talk?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper. His eyes are filled with a mix of regret and longing that makes your heart ache.

You step aside, letting him in. He stands in your living room, looking around as if trying to find the right words.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, his voice breaking. “I should have told you about the transfer. I didn’t know how to, and then it all happened so fast. But I can’t leave without telling you how I feel.”

You cross your arms, trying to maintain your anger. Knowing deep down you've missed him loads.

He steps closer, his eyes searching yours. “I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment we met. And the thought of leaving without you... I can’t do it. Come with me, please. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

The sincerity in his voice breaks down your defenses. Tears fill your eyes as you realize how much you’ve missed him, how much you still love him.

“I love you too, Marc,” you say, your voice trembling.

In an instant, he's closing the distance between you, his lips crashing into yours. The kiss is urgent, filled with all the emotions of the past week – the anger, the longing, the love. His hands are on your back, pulling you closer, and you can feel his heart racing against yours.

You lose yourself in the kiss, in the feeling of his body against yours. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms. His lips move with desperation, as if trying to make up for all the time lost, and you respond with equal intensity, pouring all your emotions into the embrace.

When you finally pull away, you're both breathless. Marc rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.

“Come with me,” he whispers again. “Let’s start a new life together.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the depth of his sincerity and the love that’s always been there. “Yes. I’ll go with you.”

His face breaks into a relieved, joyful smile before he pulls you into another kiss, softer this time but just as intense. His hands move to your face, cradling it gently as his lips explore yours, slow and deliberate.

The kiss deepens, and you feel his hands travel down your back, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. You can feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, matching the rhythm of your own.

You guide him towards the couch, your bodies entwined. He lowers you down gently, his lips never leaving yours. The heat between you is palpable, every touch, every kiss stoking the flames of desire that have been simmering for so long.

“I can’t lose you,” he murmurs against your lips. “Not now, not ever.”

“You won’t,” you promise, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer. “I’m yours, Marc.”

His response is a fervent kiss, his hands exploring your body with a reverence that makes you shiver. You lose yourself in the moment, in the love and passion that’s always been there, just waiting for this moment to be unleashed.

The world outside ceases to exist, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in each other’s love and desire.

[gingerteawrites]

"I wanna be yours" - Gojo Satoru

A/N: Fellas, I have returned! Been wanting to post more often, so I'll try actually making a schedule for myself. Anyways, enjoy :)

Content: JJK sorcerer!reader, kind of canon, Gojo x reader, mostly fluff, teeny weeny angst

Gojo Satoru had always gotten everything he wanted in life. Many called him spoiled, but being a prodigy came with its perks. No one ever dared to stand in the way. And those who did never stood for long anyway.

So from the moment you were transferred to Jujutsu High and his crystal eyes laid on you, he knew he wanted you. He marveled at the way you treated your students and fellow staff members. The sweetness of your smile haunted his dreams. He had made up his mind, and nothing could get in the way.

Except you. You got in the way.

"Hey, sweetheart? Wanna grab desserts after classes are done today?" He asks, leaning against your desk as you finish grading your students' tests.

"Sorry Gojo," you look up from your paperwork, adjusting your frames on your nose. "I've got to finish up some lesson plans."

He sulked openly, lips pursed as he lifted his blindfold. Frustration gnawed at his insides. He'd been trying to go out with you one-on-one for months now. But you always found a way to turn him down.

"Can't spare me a little time?" He drew closer. You could feel the cursed energy radiate off of him. Even when he wasn't trying, the Strongest's aura was something that could not be ignored.

"Next time, okay?" Your eyes returned to your papers, and he sighed in defeat.

There was never a "next time".

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

The Kyoto sister-school exchange event had just concluded. Cursed energy flowed through you while you worked on healing the injured students. "Thank you ___-san." Itadori beamed at you, the worn out skin around his knuckles slowly repairing.

"You're welcome Yuuji-kun." You returned the smile, standing up to move towards Shoko who had just finished patching up Maki.

The students, fully healed started to part ways. You made sure everyone was set and after a small debrief with Yaga on the special grades' attacks, you walked outside the main building.

"Is Gojo still meeting with the higher-ups? I can't believe they managed to attack us here." You mused, sitting on one of the benches outside the classrooms with Shoko.

She took a long draw from her cigarette and lazily turned towards you.

"I promise you he would appear right this second if he could." Her smoky voice danced in the afternoon breeze. "Couldn't resist you being here." She spoke as if it was fact.

You shook your head to yourself, looking down at your lap with a chuckle. "Pfft, he's just flirty Ieiri. I don't think too much of it." The idea of having Satoru's attention was not unpleasant. His presence always made your heart beat a little faster, after all. But you would never give yourself false hopes. He could have anyone he wanted, and the prospect was more than enough to make you want to keep your distance.

Shoko just shook her head, the cloud of smoke hanging around her parting when she stood. "If thinking that is what helps you sleep at night," she waved with a turn "I'll see you."

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

Too many things had happened. Getting attacked by multiple special grades, half of the school destroyed, the kids hurt. The balance of the Jujutsu society felt like a wreck and you knew that October 31st spelt even more trouble.

You sat in one of your empty classrooms, head on the desk with your eyes fixed outside the window. You had to prepare for Shibuya. A deep sense of anxiety gnawed at your insides, causing you to close your eyes in hope of some respite.

However, the sound of doors sliding open prompted them open, turning your head to identify the intruder. There stood Gojo with his blindfold off, a rare occurrence.

"Hello, sweetheart." He approached your desk, pulling a chair to sit beside you.

"Hi, Gojo." You replied, tired voice barely carrying through the room. His azure eyes traced your features.

His hand slowly coming up to brush against your cheek. And you didn't pull away. The soothing touch was oh so welcome. It drew you out of the anxious hole your mind was digging.

"Before we go out there." He paused, voice uncharacteristically soft. Smooth. Not putting on a show, but deeply honest. "Before the fighting starts... I need to be sure."

"Sure of what?" You couldn't help but lean into his touch. He chuckled, almost humorlessly.

"I've been trying. In not so subtle ways." He spoke quietly. "I just want to hear you say it. That you truly don't want me."

Your eyes widened, body stilling. The wind blew in through the window, the chill of the outside filling the room.

"Satoru... I..." Your mouth gaped, in a desperate search for words.

"I wanna be yours." He assured, thumb brushing across your lower lip. "Even if it's the last thing I do." He took in a deep breath, drawing closer so that there were only a few inches left between you. "Will you let me?"

Your thoughts melded together into a hazy mush, breath taken away by his words. By his closeness. You weren't sure you could formulate the correct words. To express how much you wanted it too. How much you wanted to be his. How much you reveled in his closeness, despite the parts of your mind that screamed that it was hopeless. That he was too good for you. That this could end too soon for either of you.

So you pushed all thoughts away and acted on instinct. You closed the gap, plush lips meeting his in a tender embrace. Your hand rested along his jaw, pulling him closer and he responded to your invitation, gently slipping a hand around your neck. Your lips moved in a soft tango, rhythm dictated by your frantic hearts. Kissing until your lips were tinted red with passion.

You finally parted and rested your foreheads against each other, and Gojo let out a chuckle, a quiet thing, teeming with joy.

"That was the first time you've called me Satoru."

You smiled. "I want to be yours too, Satoru," he pressed a tender kiss on your cheek, his lips pulled into a wide smile.

The future had never seemed more uncertain, and the balance of the jujutsu world barely hung on by a thread. But in that moment all Gojo could feel was unbridled joy.

"Thank you, my love."

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated(❁´◡`❁)

[drnikolatesla]

Reviving Tesla’s Dream: The Future of Wireless Power Transmission

“My project was retarded by the laws of nature. The world was not prepared for it. It was too far ahead of time. But the same laws will prevail in the end and make it a triumphal success.” – Nikola Tesla

In the early days of radio technology, there was a crucial decision point that split wireless technology into two distinct paths. One path, pursued by Marconi and others, focused on electromagnetic wave transmission. The other path, championed by Nikola Tesla, aimed to minimize electromagnetic waves and use the Earth itself for energy transmission. While the world predominantly embraced the former, Tesla’s innovative approach was largely forgotten. Let’s explore Tesla’s lost art.

Tesla's wireless power transmission system, often known as his "Magnifying Transmitter," was a pioneering approach to sending electrical energy over long distances. Unlike today’s wireless technologies, which rely on electromagnetic waves, Tesla's design aimed to transmit energy through the earth, which he believed was more efficient.

Tesla showcased his system’s potential during his 1899 experiments in Colorado Springs. He successfully transmitted energy through the ground, illuminating bulbs about a mile away from the transmitter. Tesla saw this as a matter of engineering: just as a machine that can throw a rock 5 feet can be engineered to throw it 1,000 feet, he believed his system could be adjusted to transmit power across any distance on Earth.

Modern wireless technologies, such as radio, Wi-Fi, and cellular networks, use electromagnetic waves that spread outward from a source. These waves lose strength according to the inverse square law, which means signal strength decreases with the square of the distance from the source. This energy loss is a significant limitation for long-distance communication and power transmission.

Tesla’s vision was quite different. He recognized that while electromagnetic waves were effective for communication, they were inefficient for transmitting large amounts of power. As he put it, “I only used low alternations, and I produced 90 percent in current energy and only 10 percent in electromagnetic waves, which are wasted.” Tesla aimed to minimize electromagnetic radiation, which he considered to be energy-draining. Instead, he focused on transmitting energy through the earth, which he believed was more efficient and recoverable.

Tesla's system utilized a large coil known as the "Magnifying Transmitter," which generated a high-voltage, low-frequency current. This design featured significant self-inductance and minimal capacitance, producing a strong resonant effect. By accumulating and directing massive amounts of energy with minimal losses, Tesla aimed for efficient power transmission. As he explained, “I accumulate in that circuit a tremendous energy... I prefer to reduce those waves in quantity and pass a current into the earth, because electromagnetic wave energy is not recoverable while the earth current is entirely recoverable, being the energy stored in an elastic system.”

The scientific principles of Tesla's system include:

1. Resonant Circuits: Tesla's system used resonant circuits, tuning the primary and secondary coils to the same frequency. This resonance allowed for efficient energy transfer between coils, amplifying energy while minimizing losses.

2. Self-Inductance: A key component of Tesla’s system was self-inductance. A large coil with high self-inductance generated a strong magnetic field essential for creating high-voltage, low-frequency current. Self-inductance helped store energy in the coil’s magnetic field, critical for high power levels.

3. Capacitance: Tesla’s design involved large capacitors to store electrical energy. Capacitance was kept small compared to self-inductance to achieve desired resonant effects. The capacitors would discharge rapidly, creating high-voltage pulses for transmission through the earth.

To construct a system similar to Tesla’s, he advised:

1. Low Frequency, High Voltage Design: Build a large Tesla coil to generate high voltages at low frequencies. Ensure the design minimizes electromagnetic radiation and focuses on efficient energy transfer into the ground.

2. Loose Coupling for Resonance: Use loose coupling between the primary and secondary coils to achieve significant resonant rise. The coils should be inductively linked but not too close to avoid direct energy transfer.

3. Earth Connection: Establish a deep, effective ground connection to allow the transmitter to send electrical currents into the earth, utilizing its natural conductive properties.

4. Minimizing Radiation: Design the system to suppress electromagnetic radiation, aiming to retain energy within the circuit and direct it into the ground. Tune the system to maximize energy storage and transfer.

5. Energy Storage and Discharge: Incorporate large capacitors for storing and rapidly discharging energy to create high-voltage, low-frequency oscillations.

Tesla’s system faced significant challenges, including the need for large, expensive equipment. In 1914, he estimated the cost of his "Magnifying Transmitter" at $450,000—around $15 million today. These financial constraints prevented him from fully realizing his dream and unfortunately led to his public image as a mad scientist with unrealistic future visions. However, the potential applications of his system are vast, from global wireless power transmission to reducing infrastructure costs and powering remote areas. With ongoing advancements in technology, Tesla’s vision may be within reach.

Tesla’s system presents an alternative approach to wireless energy transmission, focusing on efficiency and long-distance power transfer over the broad dispersal of electromagnetic waves. While modern technologies have advanced in different ways, Tesla’s principles—especially his focus on resonant circuits and earth currents—provide valuable insights into alternative methods of energy transmission. Exploring these principles today could lead to innovative applications, such as more efficient long-distance power transmission or new energy transfer methods.

[bottombaron]

So after staring into the middle distance for a couple days I'm ready to start discussing some theories I have before the season finale destroys us. They are all very wide-ranging in absurdity but I'll start with the one that I think has the most substance and therefore I think is most likely to happen. Also, I haven’t caught up with the tag yet so if someone already posted these theories, sorry! 

So here is Theory #1, known otherwise as,

Why (I think) I know how Laszlo is going to unfuck Guillermo

The solution, I believe, was stated at the very end of The Roast by Laszlo himself: 

FIRST THOUGHT, BEST THOUGHT

Laszlo has spent weeks deeply committed to solving a problem. He's wasted precious time trying to outthink his first (and probably best) solution – and I'm not just talking about his book sorting. Neither was Laszlo, not entirely at least. I actually do think he was focused at least a little bit on his books because that's kind of what happens when you're stuck on a problem. Your brain wanders to other much less taxing ordeals. Usually, as you solve that smaller problem, you find the solution to the thing you really want to solve. 

So what was Laszlo’s first idea?

All along Laszlo had the answer but Guillermo told him that he didn't think it would work, so Laszlo just didn't pursue it further. (We don't even know if Laszlo knows the circumstances of the test and why it didn't work. Just that Guillermo didn't approve that idea.) So then Laszlo wasted valuable time and energy trying to ~Science~ this problem instead of using his true best skill that was showcased in episode one of the season: his charm. His powers of persuasion (the classical art of bullshitting, as it were) is his true super power. (Sadly, it’s not science. He doesn't really have the patience for science tbh).

But, no, rly, he should bullshit his way thru this. That's what he does best. He can outthink Nandor easily. (well….maybe. with the time spent on his experiments, Nandor could have the advantage of several weeks, if not months, to figure things out beforehand, as dense as he is) He should concoct a bullshit so impenetrable that it unfucks Guillermo from Derek and refucks him to Nandor. 

Further foreshadowing of this you ask?

(this whole season is dedicated to ‘plans’ it’s crazy how much A Plan pops up. maybe i’ll dedicate a separate post to collecting them all)

But alas! The test that The Baron did proved this wouldn’t work, right!?

Well here's some free additional theories to how Laszlo could solve that hiccup:

1. Laszlo figures out (and solves) the reason why The Baron/Neighbor test didn't work in the first place.

There could be any number of factors of why The Baron's neighbor blew up. It could be that The Baron is all that more powerful than the average vampire and so his bite gives an extraordinary fill of uh...vampire-ness? and Derek, being so young and weak, doesn't do much at all. Maybe it has something to do with The Sire. If The Baron was turned by the first being ever affected by vampirism, then maybe that vampirism is slowly depleted the further down the line you go. Derek is probably very far removed from The Sire which means he cannot transfer much of that affliction onwards. Nandor, if he was turned by The Baron (one removed from The Sire) or someone similar, explains how he is so powerful, hopefully tho he wouldn’t have too much power to possibly overwhelm Guillermo's half-a-virgin body (and yes I did like how kinky that sounded when I wrote it). It doesn't really matter the exact reason as long as Laszlo can convince Guillermo to try it and he has a relatively decent chance of surviving it. (convincing Guillermo to go thru with this plan overall is probably going to be the most trouble actually. you don't easily forget a guy exploding in your face)

2. Something to do with the experiments. (or the Nadja’s bait-and-switch tactic she used to catch The Baron/Guillermo from The Roast)

I have a larger theory on the experiments and why I think there's still one in the house, but that's for later. During The Roast, Nandor is pretty convinced that the mutant Guillermo is the real one (despite one pretty big glaring error: he has no glasses. none of the experiments need glasses...), Laszlo might have been testing this theory by having The Baron bring his body to Nandor in the first place in order to see how convinced Nandor would be by it. This might be enough for Laszlo to try to use a duplicate of Guillermo for Nandor to bite. The duplicate will not explode (probably?) due to only being a hybrid of Guillermo's blood and an animal…or something(one) else pretending to be Guillermo… (and if it does, maybe Laszlo plans to shoo Nandor out of the line of sight in order for him not to see. And then you get the angst and drama of Guillermo literally using a scapegoat to take his 'sin' despite his reluctance to hurt innocent creatures)

But will the fake Guillermo actually convince Nandor? It's hard to say, and I love that threat of Nandor realizing that it's not the true Guillermo he bit and feeling even more betrayed. Maybe Laszlo concocts a whole ambiance to the event in order to sell the lie. It has to be special right?

So there's dim lights and candles and (fake) Guillermo is laid out in Nandor's coffin and there's this whole presentation element to it that was left out of Guillermo's turn with Derek. It's more like the fantasy that Guillermo probably always had of being turned by Nandor. It plays out like a romantic love scene. But Guillermo is asleep or has his eyes closed and won't talk or maybe only makes small noises and Nandor's very upset abt this. Laszlo is probably hovering too and Nandor doesn't like that either but Laszlo insists he must be there and it's now it's all awkward and wrong, kind of like how Guillermo felt before he was bit by Derek. (now it’s like Nandor is the bull cucking Laszlo in front of him) Nandor goes thru with it and bites Guillermo and is rushed by Laszlo so he doesn't get to drink or drink too much of his blood and there's fumbling with trying to get his own blood into Guillermo's unresponsive mouth.

Or maybe Nandor finds out because Guillermo's blood is disgusting and he either knows or had hoped it would be good tasting*. or that Guillermo just lays there and there's no reciprocation of desire. But maybe he just doesn't find out and once it's over he expects to be able to lay with Guillermo or otherwise be there for his turning but Laszlo quickly rushes him out of his own room and closes the door behind him.

So now Nandor feels all the same despondency that Guillermo had felt with his turn with Derek. Like this big special moment he's built up for years was a complete dud. Like he missed out on something truly magical and he doesn't know why. And Guillermo will feel like shit too, for tricking Nandor. Laszlo isn't happy either. But it worked and they all just have to live with it. Meanwhile this act that was meant to make Nandor's and Guillermo's bond stronger, only serves to create even greater distance between them. 

Re*: evidence that Guillermo's blood might taste 'different':

3. ANYWAYS. that was theory two. lets talk about theory 3.

WITCHES.

I actually think there's good reason Laszlo has divorced Science and is now going to have an affair with Magic. It's exactly when Nadja says 'has this hex turned me into an uggo' that Laszlo comes to life and exclaims ‘that's it!’. If science wasn't the solution, maybe magic is. It's not like they don't know some witches, or that, at least to a degree, witches actually have some power. (specifically the power to look, vaguely, like someone else.) I'm not certain of the specifics but there's a chance Laszlo could be turning to magic to solve his problems. This would also bring Nadja's storyline more relevant and in focus for the season. The thing I like the most about this theory? Episode 9 describes being invited to a manor owned by someone named Morrigan. Morrigan is a Celtic goddess of war and fate that was probably the inspiration for Arthurian legendary sorceress, Morgan le Fay. (Laszlo's name may also be connected to Arthurian legend, Lancelot. but that probably doesn't mean anything.)

So! That's my three extra theories attached to this one big theory that Laszlo is going to go 'back to the beginning' and use his first thought to solve this. Go with his gut. His first solution was his best solution, all along.

…He simply needs to convince Nandor to turn Guillermo.

The, uh, details of this plan may be a lot more complicated than it suggests.

[fatehbaz]

[D]ebt and indebtedness [...] produc[e] forms of spatial enclosure [imprisonment] that do not rely on the spectacular [singular moments of blatant literal physical violence] but are, rather, achieved through temporal openings and foreclosures. To be clear, this frame does not obscure the many forms of carceral enclosure [...]: the prison, the checkpoint, the security wall. Historically, enclosure is understood as the privatization of land. But Wang extends the concept of enclosure to encompass time. Wang demonstrates that [...] mobility is policed through [...] an apparatus of punishment that solicits time as the form of spatial enclosure. [...]

[D]ebilitating infrastructures turn able bodies into a range of disabled bodies. [...] [C]heckpoints [...]; administrative bureaucratic apparatuses that stall and foreclose travel, mobility for work, [...] the capacity to move and change residences - baroque processes to apply for permits to travel [...], absence of public services such as postal delivery [...]; and finally [...] denial of resolution, suspension in the space of the indefinite [...]. In fact, slow death itself is literalized as the slowing down of life [...]. [Land] itself becomes simultaneously bigger - because it takes so long to get anywhere - and smaller, as transit becomes arduous [...] where it is so difficult to travel between areas without permits and identifications. Movement is suffocated. Distance is stretched and manipulated to create an entire population with mobility impairments. And yet space is shrunken, as people are held in place, rarely able to move far. [...]

---

Time itself is held hostage.

This is the slow aspect of slow death: slow death can entail a really slow life, too, a life that demands constant calibration of different speeds and the relation of speed to space. [...]

The suspended state of the indefinite, of waiting and waiting (it) out, wreaks multigenerational psychological and physical havoc. [...]

Time thus is the meter of power; it is one form that physical enclosure takes on. The cordoning of time through space contributes to an overall “lack of jurisdiction over the function of one’s own senses” (Schuller 2018: 74) endemic to the operation of colonial rule [...]. [T]his process entails several modes of temporal differentiation: withholding futurity, making impossible anything but a slowed (down) life, and immobilizing the body [...]. Julie Peteet (2008) calls the extraction of nonlabor time “stealing time” [...].

[T]he extraction of time [...] produce[s] a depleted and therefore compliant population so beholden to the logistics of the everyday that forms of connectivity, communing, and collective resistance are thwarted. The extraction of time functions as the transfer of “vital energy” [...], an extraction that recapitulates a long colonial history of mining bodies for their potentiality. [...]

Checkpoints ensure one is never sure of reaching work on time.

Fear of not getting to work then adds to the labor of getting to work; the checkpoints affectively expand labor time [...].

Bodies in line at checkpoints [...] [experience] the fractalizing of the emotive, cognitive, physiological capacities of bodies [...].It’s not just that bodies are too tired to resist but that the experience of the “constant state of uncertainty” becomes the condition of being. [...]

---

All text above by: Jasbir K. Puar. "Spatial Debilities: Slow Life and Carceral Capitalism in Palestine". South Atlantic Quarterly (2021) 120 (2), pages 393-414. Published April 2021. DOI at: doi dot org slash 10.1215/00382876-8916144 [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Presented here for criticism, teaching, commentary purposes.]

[gingerkunoichii]

FANART 1 2 3 (i love you) After leaving your old university under a cloud of scandal, you arrive at Konoha University, ready for a fresh start.

Once queen of the party scene, your killer smile and sharp edge left a trail of broken hearts. The drug fuelled nights, bad decisions, and neon-lit chaos follows you. Alpha Kappa Blossom, a sorority with varying characters welcomes you and you feel like you've known these people for a lifetime very quickly—but nothing comes without strings.

Your past still lingers. No matter how loud the music and whatever you take to sedate yourself from reality, you can’t outrun the fallout.

// WARNINGS // Recreational Drug Use, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Alcohol, Drinking to Cope, Partying, Greek Life, Fraternities & Sororities, Modern AU, Drunk Sex, Bad Decisions, Fratboy Akatsuki, Fratboy Konoha 11, Most Men Being Fuckboys, Sisterhood, Casual Sex, Drug-Induced Sex, Past Rape/Non-con, Toxic, Abusive Relationships, Blackmail, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Huge General Trigger Warning

PLEASE READ TAGS ON AO3 FOR MORE INFO

Chapter 1 You had anticipated your first day at Konoha University would be awkward, but reality surpassed expectation in the worst way. The air outside the dorms was thick with the stale scent of overcooked cafeteria food, cigarette smoke, and restless energy. Faded banners proclaiming "Welcome New Students!" hung askew from upper windows, their colours washed out by time and indifference. You adjusted the strap of your worn duffel bag, its weight biting into your shoulder, and wondered—for the hundredth time—if transferring there had been a mistake. This was supposed to be a fresh start, but now it felt like stepping into a world you were never meant to enter.

The dormitory loomed ahead, stark and institutional, its white paint peeling in long strips and identical windows staring blankly into the distance. Swallowing the knot of unease tightening in your chest, you forced yourself through the entrance. The lobby was bedlam—students wandering aimlessly, parents arguing with stressed-out staff, and someone half-heartedly strumming an acoustic guitar in the corner like they were auditioning for a coming-of-age film. You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes.

Your dorm assignment paper read: Room 314B - Nara Hall. You climbed a narrow, groaning staircase, your heart pounding for no good reason except that everything about this place felt like it was closing in on you. The third-floor hallway smelled faintly of musty carpet and a failing attempt at floral air freshener. After passing a series of identical, chipped doors, you found your room at the very end of the hall.

Taking a steadying breath, you pushed the door open.

The room was... cramped. Two twin beds flanked opposite walls, accompanied by mismatched furniture that looked like it had been salvaged from a thrift-store clearance bin. A single window offered a grim view of the cracked, sun-bleached dorm parking lot. One side of the room was starkly empty—but the other side assaulted the senses.

Posters of conspiracy theories and what you assumed to be arcane symbols smothered the walls, tangled with string lights and Polaroid photos of abandoned playgrounds and distorted forest landscapes. A life-sized cardboard cut out of a low-budget sci-fi character stood vigil by the window, holding a sign that read “WELCOME TO THE VOID.”

And there she was—your roommate.

She sat cross-legged on her bed, clad in striped knee-high socks and a worn T-shirt reading “I Talk to Ghosts” in dripping, horror-themed font. Her choppy, dark hair was pinned back with mismatched coffin-shaped clips. As she meticulously painted her nails with toxic-black polish, she hummed an off-key tune.

Her heavily lined eyes snapped up as you entered, widening theatrically.

“Oh my god!” she gasped, dropping the nail polish onto a precariously stacked pile of books labeled Paranormal Phenomena: Volumes 1-6. “You must be the new girl, I was told by the TA that you’d transferred here into second year! I knew you’d show up.”

You blinked. “Uh… yeah. I’m Y/N.”

She leapt from her bed with unsettling enthusiasm. “I’m Izumi! But my coven calls me ‘Nightshade.’ Well, it’s not officially a coven… yet. But it will be. Eventually.”

You just… stared.

“I manifested you,” she continued proudly, gesturing toward a battered Ouija board displayed prominently on her desk. “I did a summoning ritual for a ‘kindred spirit,’ and—” she pointed emphatically at you—“here you are!” Her grin was disturbingly earnest.

For a moment, you seriously considered turning around, walking out, and requesting a new room assignment. But something in the way her expression softened—like she was genuinely hoping you’d stay—gave you pause.

Against all better judgment, you stepped further into the room, dropping your bag onto the empty bed.

“Cool,” you said flatly, masking uncertainty with indifference. “Just… no goat sacrifices or anything.”

Izumi clapped her hands together, practically vibrating with excitement. “This is going to be so much fun! ”

You already regretted everything.

Before you could even unzip your duffel bag, Izumi— or Nightshade—sprang from her bed like a coiled spring, crossing the room in three long, almost theatrical strides. Her combat boots thudded softly against the scuffed linoleum floor as her long, striped socks scrunched with each step.

“So! What’s your major?” she asked eagerly, tilting her head like a curious raven inspecting something shiny.

“Uh...” you replied cautiously, still adjusting to her overwhelming energy. “I’m majoring in arts.”

Her eyes widened, practically glowing with excitement. “Arts! That’s perfect. You’re probably one of those tortured-artist types who creates things that make people feel uncomfortable... or haunted.” She gestured wildly as if envisioning some dark, twisted masterpiece. “I knew the universe wouldn’t stick me with some boring business major.”

You let out a faint, exasperated sigh and turned back to unzip your duffel bag, already dreading the rest of this bizarre conversation.

“What’s your zodiac sign?” she pressed, undeterred.

“Scorpio,” you answered flatly, figuring it was easier to cooperate than resist.

She let out a delighted, almost sinister laugh, spinning on her heel as if energized by your answer. “ Of course you’re a Scorpio. I could feel the dark, brooding energy when you walked in.” She nodded to herself as though confirming a long-held suspicion.

You sighed inwardly. “What’s yours?” you asked without looking up, folding a well-worn hoodie and stuffing it into the tiny dresser.

“Capricorn sun, Pisces moon, Scorpio rising,” she declared proudly, her hand placed reverently over her chest. “I’m basically a cosmic enigma.”

You paused, glancing at her from the corner of your eye, you had no idea whatever the fuck those words meant. Her expression was deadly serious, as though she truly believed she was some otherworldly being.

Not knowing how to respond, you continued methodically unpacking your clothes, your fingers brushing against a familiar worn book tucked among your things— The Collected Works of Sylvia Plath . You hesitated, then shoved it deeper into the drawer.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” she continued, her voice dropping to an almost conspiratorial whisper.

“Not really,” you admitted, still bent over the drawer.

“Oh, you will, ” she said with a knowing smirk, leaning in slightly like she was sharing a forbidden secret.

You shot her a wary glance. “Right.”

Izumi dramatically leaned against her bedpost, crossing one leg over the other as her combat boot bounced rhythmically against the frame. Her eyes sparkled with barely contained excitement, practically devouring every word you spoke.

“Any exes I need to know about? Stalkers? Cursed objects you brought with you?” she asked, her voice equal parts nosy and fascinated.

“Just... normal stuff,” you muttered not wanting to let her know a single thing about you, shutting the drawer a little harder than necessary and wondering how long this interrogation would last.

“Normal is boring, ” she sighed dramatically, tossing her hair over her shoulder with practiced flair. “But don’t worry— I’ll fix that.”

Her eyes lingered on you for a moment too long, glittering with something between amusement and intent.

You couldn’t tell if she was joking—or making a promise.

Suddenly, Izumi clapped her hands together with a sharp smack . “Oh! There’s going to be a university fair tomorrow for all the new students. They’ll have sororities— bleh .” She stuck her finger dramatically to her mouth and made an exaggerated gagging sound, rolling her eyes with theatrical disdain.

You bit back a smirk despite yourself.

“Clubs... and my club.” Her expression lit up like she had just revealed the meaning of life.

You raised an eyebrow. “Your club?”

“The Supernatural Society!” she declared proudly, throwing her arms wide like she was summoning the spirits themselves. Her combat boots scuffed the linoleum as she took a commanding stance, practically glowing with excitement. “I’m the president, obviously. ”

Of course she fucking is, you thought dryly, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“It’s only the most important club on campus,” she continued, pacing dramatically as though delivering a speech to an unseen audience. “We investigate the unknown, explore the unexplained, and seek truths that others are too afraid to uncover.”

She stopped abruptly and jabbed a finger toward you, her gaze piercing. “You should definitely come. Even if you’re technically a second-year, you’re basically new here.”

Izumi leaned in slightly, lowering her voice into something almost conspiratorial. “We could use someone like you.”

Her eyes gleamed with intent, and for a second, you couldn’t tell if she was inviting you—or recruiting you.

You hesitated, trying to suppress a wave of unease. She’s... real fucking intense.

Before you could answer, she launched back into her pitch. “We meet in the old art studio in East Hall. They say it’s haunted—which is perfect for our sessions.” Her fingers flexed like she was already imagining the next eerie ritual. “Candles, chanting... sometimes the lights flicker, but that just adds to the vibe, you know?”

You crossed your arms, studying her carefully. “Do... other people actually join this club?”

Her face lit up with genuine pride. “We have seven members right now. Quality over quantity!” she said quickly, then added, “But honestly, you seem... different. ” Her eyes narrowed slightly, appraising you like she was looking through your skin, searching for something only she could see.

You simply stared into her dark eyes, giving her absolutely nothing to work with. Of course you'd be roomed with an absolute fucking weirdo. Sure you were weird in your own way, but there were such things called boundaries.

“I’ll... think about it,” you said cautiously, already wondering if avoiding this so-called Supernatural Society would be impossible.

Izumi grinned, satisfied. “Good.”

You weren’t entirely sure what you had just agreed to—or what you might’ve gotten yourself into.

After stuffing the last of your clothes into the dresser’s creaky drawers, you let out a weary sigh. Unpacking felt like peeling off a layer of tension, though the strange energy radiating from your roommate, Izumi, never wavered.

Before you could even react, she leapt from her bed. “Alright, enough stalling—we’re going to the university fair.”

“I just unpacked—”

She seized your wrist like an impatient spectre. “No excuses. You’re new. We must stake our claim.” The university quad buzzed with chaotic energy. Booths stretched endlessly in uneven rows, each fighting for attention with blaring music, glittering decorations, and too-loud voices. Flyers fluttered in the breeze, sticking to shoes and swirling like confetti from hell.

A sorority girl with a blinding white smile and neon-pink crop top waved pompoms aggressively from atop a decorated table. “ Join Delta Zeta! ” she screamed, voice sharp enough to pierce metal.

Absolutely fucking not, you thought.

“They reek of fake tan and desperation,” Izumi muttered, sneering.

Students in Greek-letter hoodies patrolled like predators on the hunt. A blonde guy with long hair and a wild grin leaned lazily against a booth marked Sigma Omega Omicron . His sharp blue eyes sparkled with something both inviting and dangerous.

Next to him, a tall, muscular white-haired guy with tattoos covering his arms barked crudely at passers-by. “Oi, you scared of fun or just allergic to living?!” he roared, throwing his arms wide.

The blonde snickered. “Bet you couldn’t handle one party, princess. ”

You halted mid-step, spinning on your heel with a snarky smile. “You’d be surprised.”

His smirk faltered for a split second before returning with twice the arrogance. “ Feisty. I like that.”

Izumi yanked your arm. “Don’t engage with the delinquents.”

“Typical SOO trash,” she hissed, her chopped hair moving briskly as she shook her head. “Don’t even look at them.” Hidan hissed back at her, earning him a quick middle finger. The Sigma Omega Omicron booth radiated chaotic energy, surrounded by a growing crowd of curious onlookers and reluctant recruits. More members emerged like predators circling prey: a tall, muscular guy with piercings and a stitched-together leather jacket—Kisame (Events Coordinator)—stood intimidatingly close to the table, cracking his knuckles for emphasis causing you to roll your eyes.

Behind the table, a lean, pale-skinned man with sharp features and onyx eyes meticulously shuffled through forms like he was managing a hostile takeover rather than a booth for a frat. His nametag read Itachi (Secretary).

The silver-haired man that had been shouting at freshmen plopped himself down, flicking a lighter repeatedly while balancing precariously on a folding chair. His shirt read “Repent Later.” His nametag: Hidan (Social Chair).

Deidara’s name was written dramatically with the role underneath it being smudged to the point you couldn’t read it, the long-haired blonde who had made an ugly pass at you, gestured grandly toward the banner with spray-paint streaks declaring “JOIN SIGMA OMEGA – WE MAKE HISTORY” in bold, messy letters. “Come on, cowards! Live a little!”

“Or don’t,” Hidan added with a wicked grin. “We’re still better than you.”

Izumi muttered darkly, pulling you further away. “They’re like feral dogs in overpriced boots.” Her gaze lingering a little too long on the dark-haired man whose name tag proclaimed him as Itachi.

You couldn’t help but glance back as the crowd erupted into another round of laughter and taunts. What the actual fuck kind of university is this?

Nearby, other booths clamoured for attention: the Literature Society displayed old typewriters under a poetic sign reading “Write Your Own Destiny.” The Astronomy Club had a telescope pointed skyward, even though it was broad daylight. Someone dressed as a medieval knight swung a foam sword near the Historical Reenactment Society booth.

As you wove through the crowd, the atmosphere shifted. Loud music and hooting laughter blasted ahead. A massive banner with electric-blue letters read “DELTA OMEGA STORM - TONIGHT’S ONLY DESTINATION!”

A makeshift DJ booth blared a pounding beat while the group of men at the Delta Omega Storm booth worked the crowd like seasoned pros. Their energy was magnetic, chaotic, and absolutely ridiculous.

A broad-shouldered guy with wild brown hair barked out, “Free drinks for the hot girls, no one else need apply ! ” His sharp-toothed grin gleamed like a warning. His name tag, slapped crookedly across his chest, read: Kiba (Social Chair).

Next to him, a tall guy with long, dark hair and piercing eyes surveyed the crowd with detached coolness, his lean build and folded arms making him seem untouchable.

Another with a varsity jacket and messy blonde hair clapped an unsuspecting freshman on the back. “Delta party tonight ! ” he shouted with cocky ease. “Best night of your life, guaranteed! ” His name tag was peeling at the edges though you could make out his name was Naruto.

Near the booth’s edge, a stoic redhead in a dark hoodie stood like a silent sentinel, his intense gaze sweeping the crowd as though assessing threats—or targets.

A sharp-dressed man with cold, pale eyes stood off to the side, arms crossed as though enduring the chaos for some calculated reason. His posture radiated authority though he looked like he’d rather be running an investment portfolio rather than standing next to a neon party banner.

A quiet figure with round, dark glasses adjusted a flyer display with surgical precision, every motion deliberate and efficient. His intense focus suggested he took his recruitment duties far more seriously than his companions. 

Finally, a lanky, bored-looking guy with a perpetual slouch fiddled with a pen, twirling it in fluid, lazy motions. His eyes were half-lidded, giving the impression that existence itself was exhausting. His name tag, stuck on upside down, was impossible to read from the distance you were at.

“Don’t come if you’re gonna be boring ,” he added flatly, drawing easy laughter from nearby girls.

You snorted. The sheer absurdity of their roles being listed so formally on these cheap paper name tags was almost comical. This wasn’t a university fare—it was an overly elaborate invitation to debauchery.

“Want to check it out?” you asked Izumi, half-joking.

She snorted. “ Them? They’re not as bad as SOO... but still... reckless. ”

You smiled faintly. Reckless sounded exactly like what you needed or else you’d bore yourself doing art alone in your room all year– a nightmare in itself, especially seeing your roommate.

Without another word, you shrugged off Izumi’s warning. What the hell . Your so-called fresh start was already spiralling into chaos; you might as well lean into it, just like you did before at your old university, for better or worse.

Izumi sighed in clear disappointment, folding her arms. “I’ll see you later, then. If you have time, you should check out the Supernatural Society booth.”

You barely held back a scoff. “Sure.” Like fuck you were spending another second with her and her cursed objects collection. You’d rather eat glass.

She shot you a long, knowing look before disappearing into the crowd, her dark hair swinging sharply with each step.

You strode confidently toward the Delta Omega Storm booth, shoulders back, chin high. Caution was something you’d never had when making shit decisions.

As you approached, the wild-haired guy—Kiba, according to his name tag—locked onto you with the sharp intensity of a predator sizing up potential prey. His posture shifted, straightening just enough to exude aggressive confidence.

He tilted his head, brazenly dragging his eyes over you like he was inspecting goods at a dodgy market. “You here to actually party, or just look pretty and waste my time?”

The audacity hit you like a slap. Before you could stop yourself, you fired back, “Depends. Are the drinks cold, or are you serving frat-boy delusions on tap?”

His mouth twisted into something between amusement and challenge. “Alright. We could definitely use more of that tonight.”

Behind him, the tall, dark-haired guy—Sasuke, his name tag read—let out a quiet, derisive snort. His sharp, unreadable gaze met yours for a fleeting second before shifting back to the crowd. His lean frame radiated disdain, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his dark eyes.

“Name?” Kiba asked, already snatching up a flyer from the cluttered stack on the table.

“Y/N.”

His grin widened into something feral. “Y/N, you just earned VIP. Don’t disappoint.” He thrust a glossy, neon-bright invitation into your hand.

You smirked despite yourself. Being reckless was in your nature.

“Hey! You over there!”

Startled, you glanced up to see a sleekly decorated sorority booth positioned directly opposite Delta Omega Storm’s chaotic display. A large pastel-pink banner read Alpha Kappa Blossom (AKB) in elegant cursive. The whole setup was polished, sophisticated, and surprisingly modern—no neon-orange spray-tan disasters in sight.

Finally, some fucking normalcy, much more to my taste.

A tall, striking blonde with piercing blue eyes waved you over, her bright smile practically sparkling under the afternoon sun. Her nametag read “ Ino - Vice President. ” She rested a manicured hand on her hip, her sleek ponytail gleaming like something out of a haircare commercial.

“You look like you belong over here! ” Ino called enthusiastically, gesturing toward the booth’s carefully arranged display of glossy sorority brochures and immaculate floral arrangements.

You hesitated but found yourself walking toward her anyway. After surviving the testosterone-fuelled circus of Delta Omega Storm, this felt... refreshingly normal - she reminded you of your old friends, when things were good between you all at least.

“Welcome to Alpha Kappa Blossom!” Ino beamed, extending a perfectly manicured hand. “I’m Ino, Recruitment Chair. You’ve got great energy—I can tell already.”

Her confidence was magnetic but not overbearing. The women stationed around the booth radiated similar charisma—polished, stylish, but undeniably sharp.

You caught glimpses of other girls chatting with prospective members: a dark-haired woman with striking lavender eyes organizing pamphlets with precise care, a tall, athletic brunette adjusting a trophy display, and a petite, pink-haired woman enthusiastically leading a group of freshmen on a booth tour.

You shook Ino’s hand firmly. “Y/N.”

Her smile widened. “Y/N. Love that. Ever considered going Greek?” She tilted her head, studying your expression like she could read between the lines.

You shrugged casually, knowing not to say much. “I was in a sorority at my last university.”

Her eyes sparkled with interest, her fingers tapping thoughtfully against the edge of the booth’s sign.  “Then you already know how it works! We’re throwing a welcome event tonight—you should definitely come.”

You glanced back toward Delta Omega Storm’s loud, chaotic booth where Kiba was now howling towards a freshman girl something about “body shots.” The contrast was almost laughable.

God, anything’s better than getting stuck with that creepy roommate. You’d sooner dive headfirst into Delta’s questionable pool than spend another evening hearing about manifestation.

“Alright,” you said, flashing a faint smirk. “I’m in.”

“By the way,” you asked smoothly, “do you guys plan to hit the Delta Omega party later?”

Ino’s grin widened knowingly, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Totally. After the welcome event, of course. They’re our brother fraternity.” She rested a hand on her hip, radiating effortless confidence.

The dark-haired woman with lavender eyes—whose name tag read Hinata - New Member Educator —approached with a warm, genuine smile that softened her otherwise regal demeanor. “You should come. The parties are... energetic.” Her soft voice carried a hint of amusement, as though she knew far more than she let on. You found it incredibly useful that everyone on these booths were wearing name tags.

Before you could respond, the athletic brunette— Tenten - Event Planner —laughed as she tossed a stack of brochures onto the table, her toned arms flexing slightly. “Delta Omega’s parties are legendary. Just... watch out for Kiba. He thinks he’s charming.” She rolled her eyes affectionately, clearly accustomed to his antics.

You smirked, shifting your weight casually. “Yeah, I met him. Total salesman.”

The pink-haired girl— Sakura - President —returned, practically buzzing with excitement, her energy palpable even in the chaotic fair setting. “You’re definitely coming, right?” Her green eyes sparkled with genuine enthusiasm as she handed you a neatly folded invite printed with shimmering gold letters.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you said smoothly, already feeling more at home.

Ino clapped her hands together with satisfaction. "Perfect. You’ll fit in here just fine." Her tone was confident, almost like she’d already claimed you for the sorority.

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she tilted her head. "So you said something about an old university... are you a freshman?"

"Second-year," you replied casually. "Art major. Transfer student."

Ino’s interest visibly deepened. She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice like she was about to uncover the juiciest piece of gossip. "Ooh, transfer? Why’d you switch schools?"

You smirked, savoring the slight tension hanging in the air. "Maybe after a few shots, I’ll tell you."

Ino gasped playfully, pressing a hand to her chest like you’d just issued the ultimate challenge. "I’m holding you to that, if I remember to ask."

As the conversation continued, the sorority girls began filling you in on the night’s itinerary. “We’re hosting a pre-party mixer at our house first,” Tenten explained while rearranging some event flyers with efficient precision. “It’s less... chaotic than Delta’s. But after? We’ll head over together.”

“Think of it as... maintaining balance,” Sakura added with a wry smirk. “A little elegance before absolute madness.”

Hinata nodded, her expression thoughtful. “And it’s tradition to arrive together. It keeps things... coordinated. We do everything with our brother fraternity.”

Coordinated, you thought, amused. They operated like a well-oiled machine, blending genuine friendship with the sharp calculation of practiced social navigators.

Ino leaned in conspiratorially. “Also... word of advice? Don’t let Naruto talk you into any drinking contests.” Her smile turned wicked. “He’s undefeated, and you will regret it.”

Sakura snorted. “He lives for that dumb King of Shots title.”

Tenten chimed in with mock seriousness. “And if you hear someone yelling about ‘legendary feats’—just walk away.”

Your eyebrow twitched upwards in wonderment of whatever the fuck that could even mean. You laughed, imagining the chaos already. “Good to know.”

As you lingered by the booth, you couldn’t help but notice how seamlessly they interacted—not just with you, but with each other. They weren’t playing a role or putting on an act. This was their world: stylish, commanding, and irresistibly magnetic.

“See you tonight,” Ino said with a playful wink, waving as she moved on to greet another curious student.

You slipped the invitation into your bag, feeling the spark of anticipation ignite in your chest.

Maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad after all.

AO3 LINK so you don't have to scroll :)

[tklpilled]

iris

“i went to windrise to paint today,” albedo muses. he thinks back to earlier that day, trying to recall the details. “that big tree with a statue in front of it. it’s really quite beautiful, and you get an amazing view of mondstadt from there. i’m not sure how to explain it, but something about it feels almost spiritual.”

albedo has traveled across mondstadt, and other parts of teyvat as well, and he’s never found an area that feels quite like windrise. not only is the view unmatched, but he always feels as if someone is watching him—not to threaten him, but rather, to protect him.

“the bard was there—venti, I believe? he kept me company. his songs are incredible, and i noticed many more crystalflies than usual. i think they were drawn to his music.”

he glances over to his stand, where a painting of the area sits. while sitting under the tree would be relaxing, he wanted to capture it in the painting. so, instead, he sat facing mondstadt, and painted the tree on the side with its branches stretching across the canvas, almost blocking the sky entirely. the walls of mondstadt are in the distance, across the lake sparkling in the sun. If albedo had to judge it, he’d say that the painting is rather accurate; but of course, it can never compare to the real thing.

“i do wish you had been there, though,” he says, continuing on with his one-sided conversation. “i could use some practice painting people, but then again, i don't think i could do you justice. not even a kamera captures your beauty.”

he looks down at his lap, unable to hide his fond tone. “what do you think?”

a wail is the only response he gets.

albedo sighs, drumming his fingers impatiently. “it’s rude to ignore someone when they’re talking to you, you know.”

scaramouche lets out another squeal, his head thrown back in helpless laughter. “i c-cahahan’t!”

albedo swirls his fingertip around the center of scaramouche’s stomach, just circling the rim of his navel. it’s sending the poor puppet into hysterics—but as long as he still has the energy to kick his legs so frantically, albedo is sure he can last a little longer.

“but you’re talking to me now, aren’t you?” albedo asks, tilting his head. “i’m just trying to tell you how pretty you are, and you won’t even listen. i’m hurt.”

scaramouche bats weakly at albedo’s hand, though he’s clearly not trying hard. “shuhuhut uhup!” he squeaks, arching his back, and although his face is already red with laughter, albedo swears it gets worse.

he wishes he had his art materials with him. he’d love to paint scaramouche’s laughing face, capturing it in time for him to look at whenever. he can already imagine the colours he’d use, the pink hues contrasting so sharply with the cool, earthy background, the freckles scattered across his face, the way his eyes squint shut. the one problem is that sounds can’t be transferred to visuals—if he could, albedo would gladly paint scaramouche’s laughter onto a canvas forever. or maybe he could use scaramouche’s body itself as a surface; it’s a work of art on its own, after all. albedo often imagines himself drawing on it, creating constellations with his scars.

he’s abruptly yanked from his thoughts by a sudden loud whine. he glances down, realising the problem. his finger has dipped into scaramouche’s navel, a spot he hadn’t even known was so sensitive.

he chuckles. “i always discover new spots every time. i’m convinced you’re ticklish everywhere.”

scaramouche snorts, grabbing albedo’s wrist and holding on tightly. “sh-shuhut the fuhuhuck uhup! i swehehear, i’ll…!” whatever else he was going to say is lost to frantic giggling.

ah, well. albedo knows it wouldn’t have been a genuine threat anyway.

[susiekern]

4:40pm.

a/n: first post, so hello to anyone who wanders here, this is just something that popped into my head after binge watching jjk last week

obviously oc in jujutsu kaisen universe, Gojo is a simp, probably out of character but let me enjoy thingss

also english is not my first language, it wasn't proofread by anyone

hope you enjoy and welcome to my madness

word count - 2,427

It was an early afternoon when the first-years were heading towards the training stadium. Chatting about something Panda said over lunch, soft laughs filled the calm autumn scenery, bringing a soft smile to Gojo’s face.

“I think Maki was right about it, don’t you, Yuji?” Kugisaki turned to look at the boy over her shoulder, only to notice he slowed down and his gaze lingered over the main gate. “Yuji?”

“You okay, Itadori?” Gojo stopped right next to him, and he could swear there was a glimmer of Sukuna’s marks on his face, that disappeared after a second.

“Um, I sensed someone’s energy, and Sukuna is going wild.” He murmured, his words stopping Megumi and Kugisaki mid-step. As they both turned his way, two women climbing the stairs reached their eyesight.

“Oh? Eden?” The black-haired boy whispered, recognizing the older one, and quickly looked at Gojo, who seemed relieved. The younger girl, probably around their age, was the reason for Sukuna’s tantrum, he guessed. Even from this distance, all four of them could feel powerful cursed energy flowing from her body, and Fushiguro couldn’t help but notice it felt oddly similar to the energy he felt when Yuji ate the cursed finger.

“Oi, Satoru! You’ll help me with the bag or just keep staring?” The woman who Megumi called Eden waved her hand at them and smirked.

For a moment, Kugisaki focused on her and nearly sighed in awe. She was beautiful, with long black hair pulled into a half-updo situation, fair skin, big eyes, a thin scar over the bridge of her nose, and a full-black outfit that fitted her toned body. But what almost got that sigh out of Nobara was the fact you could tell she was strong. She had that presence, similar to Gojo or Nanami; when one looks their way, made you shiver with respect. And it wasn’t her scar or tattooed arms, it was her energy.

The younger girl was almost the opposite. Blonde, nearly white hair, a baby blue dress, and nerves written all over her face. And as Eden’s energy was balanced, hers was unsettling, flowing in irregular waves.

When their teacher came closer to take the said bag from Eden, he grunted, leaning dramatically to one side.

“For someone who doesn’t carry weapons, your bag is heavier than Maki’s.”

“Shut up, Toru.” She rolled her eyes and closed the distance between her and the students. “So, that’s Itadori Yuji? Sukuna’s vessel?” Before Gojo could answer, she stretched her hand towards Yuji. “Geto Eden, nice to meet you.”

“Geto? As like…?” Kugisaki took a small step back.

“As like Geto Suguru, yes. My younger brother.” Eden nodded, not looking away from Itadori. The pink-haired boy shook her hand after a few seconds, a bit hesitantly. “Tell me, Yuji. Sukuna is aware of everything around you?”

“Y-yes.” Itadori answered when he saw Gojo nod over the woman’s shoulder. “Usually he’s just silent, sometimes he comments a lot, but overall I think he’s aware 24/7.”

“Good. I hope he hears this.” Eden smiled and turned towards her younger companion. “Everyone, this is a new… transfer student. Ayato Izumi, Anahime Saori’s vessel.”

Ever since the evening they merged, Yuji hasn’t once felt Sukuna try to take control like right now. He winced a little, rubbing his temple when the curse started screaming in his domain.

“He heard you. And whatever that means, he’s going crazy.”

“Saori was the same when she first heard about Sukuna.” It was the first time Ayato had spoken since she arrived here, and almost everyone glanced at her. “What? Ah yes, sorry. Nice to meet you all, Ayato Izumi, the vessel and sorceress.”

Her awkward hand wave was reciprocated by the students. Meanwhile, Gojo and Eden exchanged looks that seemed to be a full argument, ending in Eden’s irritated sigh.

“Fine, my goodness. Since this lazy ass who calls himself a teacher won’t do it, I will.” Crossing her arms, she looked at each of them. “Quick history lesson. Anahime Saori was a sorceress in the golden era, one of the greatest. Until she was captured by Sukuna’s minions and brought to him. Suddenly, she’s on a bad side, under his shoe.”

“Bullshit.” Eden was stopped by the curse himself. He gave up trying to take control, popping up as an additional mouth and eye on Yuji’s cheek instead.

“I don’t know if that’s gross or cool.” Woman muttered under her breath. A curse so powerful it was able to manifest on its vessel?

“Saori and I were bonded. In the world of idiots, and as you said, minions, she was my equal.” Sukuna’s words seemed to shock all students except for Ayato.

“Yes, the only living thing you respected.” Eden nodded, happy that her plan to get a reaction from the King of Curses worked. Though she expected him to communicate by Itadori, she was taken aback by the mouth. She took a step closer to the boy and leaned his way. “Now, since you decided to join us, Saori happens to live in Izumi’s body, the same as you live in Yuji’s. So you know the rules, Sukuna. The only reason this girl wasn’t exorcised is that the higher-ups for once listened when I said she could be useful. That her presence would put you in place. Show them I was right, and you might even talk to her again.” Her whisper shut Sukuna up, a growl being his only reaction before the mouth and eye closed and disappeared. “Great! Now, how about you guys show Izumi around and I’ll report to Yaga?”

She nodded at Gojo to follow her and started walking towards the main building. When she passed Megumi, she smiled at him and ruffled his already messy hair. Three, no, four students watched as they made it through the giant door, heading towards the offices. Yuji and Megumi moved their eyes to Megumi.

“Who on earth was that?!” Itadori nearly screamed, feeling how stress was slowly leaving his body. Sukuna seemed to calm down after what the woman said, and his head felt lighter. Was this a proposition? Or a threat? Yuji wasn’t sure.

“Geto Eden.” Megumi shrugged and turned to Izumi to offer help with her bag.

“That we got, but what else?” It was Kugisaki’s turn to ask, her hand on hips, one brow lifted.

“She’s a special grade sorceress, one year older than Gojo, from what I remember. She could seem rough, but she’s nice. She helped him a lot with me and Tsumiki.”

“Yeah, I spent a few days with her, and she seems sweet.” Izumi agreed, passing her bag to Megumi with a thankful nod. Nobara and Itadori decided to drop the topic, at least for now, and introduced themselves properly to the new girl.

“Oh right, I almost forgot, about Eden.” They were all walking to the dorm to show Izumi where everything was located when Fushiguro spoke again. He immediately got everyone’s attention. “She’s engaged. To Gojo.”

“WHAT?!”

---

“I missed you so much.”

As soon as her office door closed behind them, Satoru got her pinned against it, his lips on hers, arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

“Missed you too. I’m never taking such a long mission again.” Eden whispered between kisses, putting her hands on his cheeks. After being away for so long, she’d be happy to stay right here, in his arms forever, but as soon as Gojo’s fingers slipped under her black shirt to graze her sides, he took a step back.

“What is that?” His blindfold was off in a second as he got on his knees before her and pulled the shirt higher, revealing a pale scar.

"Relax, Toru, it’s nothing.” He ignored her, too focused on the line. It was probably a remainder after a cut that started on her side and went down, disappearing under her pants.

“I hate when you go on missions alone.” Slim fingers followed the scar when her own brushed through his white hair.

“It’s a part of the job, Satoru. Besides, I could say the same thing.” Eden sighed and lowered her hands to his chest as her partner stood up. “We both knew what this life looked like. You knew about it first when you asked me to be your girlfriend and then to marry you.”

“I know, I know. It’s just… I feel like I should protect you, and whenever you get hurt, I fail.” A small smile appeared on Eden’s face when he leaned his forehead on hers, his hands back on the woman’s sides.

“I’d love to remind you, I’m as much a special grade as you are, mister bodyguard. I can protect myself. Even though having you by my side all the time sounds nice.” Satoru nodded and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in.

He never appreciated a physical touch as much as he did right now. When one of them had a long mission, and he could finally hold Eden in his arms when they reunited. For the past weeks when she was away, he constantly felt like he was missing a part of himself, a part that now fit right in. All it took was her warm body next to his, her soft voice, fingers on his face or neck. She felt like home, and Satoru loved that feeling.

---

“So, how’s Itadori?”

It was late evening, maybe even night already, when Eden and Satoru sat on the couch in their living room. When his fiancée was “fixing herself” after using only hotel bathrooms for weeks and finally reuniting with her cosmetics, Gojo ordered her favorite takeout and turned on a TV show they started watching before she left. It was still paused in the middle of the episode, exactly where they left it. He couldn’t stop himself from taking deep breaths every few minutes, her vanilla shower gel scent taking over his mind and calming his nerves as they caught up on everything that happened. One of their rules from “The Guide to Happy and Very Much Alive Sorcerers Relationship” was keeping the contact low when one of them was away. As long as it wasn’t a life or death matter, it could’ve waited until they were back. It also helped with focusing on getting the job done and going home faster.

“He’s good. This kid is a natural, he learned in a month what some kids need almost half a year for. And the fact he’s got full control over Sukuna? Crazy.” Eden smiled, seeing how excited he was. She always knew Satoru would make a great teacher, so when he got the offer from Yaga, she was ready to promise him anything just so he would accept it. “Oh, Megumi is doing great too. I think he actually benefits a lot from working with Itadori and Nobara. She’s a bit crazy, but talented and smart as hell. You’ll like her.”

Right, it was time for a break, Eden reminded herself, taking another bite of her teriyaki chicken. Even the higher-ups agreed that she deserved some time to rest after hunting the curse users for almost three months and then securing Saori’s vessel. She’ll probably be responsible for her training too, since she was the one who brought her all the way to Tokyo.

“How did you even find Izumi?” In moments like this one, Eden started to wonder if Gojo’s eyes somehow let him read her mind. Or maybe it was how well he knew her, always seemed to know what was going on in her head. She swallowed the last piece of chicken and put the box on the coffee table.

“It was an accident, to be honest. Do you remember Ayato Ame from Kyoto? She was in the same year I was, and we met during an exchange event. I remembered her clan had their main house in the village I passed through on my way back from the islands. The plan was to just visit an old friend, and when I got there, I felt Izumi’s energy.” Gojo listened carefully while finishing his dessert. Actually his second dessert, but who’d count? “It turns out Saori was just always with her, she probably got in contact with a cursed object when she was younger. Their family descends from the Anahime bloodline, and they store a shitton of weird items in their underground. From then it was just a matter of talking her into coming to Tokyo, which wasn’t particularly hard. Teenagers. And when Saori heard about Sukuna’s vessel, she was talking about it non-stop from what Izumi told me.”

Satoru laughed, closing his eyes for a moment. When he looked at her again, there were so many things written in his gaze that he couldn’t and wouldn’t have to say out loud. He leaned forward and left the food on the table to pull Eden into his arms. It took a second to find a comfortable position, but they finally figured it out. Eden was basically lying on his chest, one of his arms wrapped around her waist, hand beneath the material of a white long-sleeve she stole from Gojo’s part of the closet. The other hand was laying next to hers, over his heart. For a while, they just stayed like this, both cherishing the moment.

“Do you think they actually care about each other?” When she asked this, Gojo looked down at her with furrowed brows.

“Who?”

“Sukuna and Saori. Well, I should’ve asked, do you think that Sukuna cares for her. Izumi told me how Saori talked about him, and I can’t imagine Sukuna like that.” Her fiancé sighed and laid his head back on the armrest. Blue eyes focused on the way lights were playing on the ceiling while he thought about the answer.

“Honestly, I’m not sure.” It was Eden’s turn to look confused, but she waited patiently for Satoru to continue. “He was like us before, a jujutsu sorcerer. Times were different, sure, he was an asshole even as a human, but that doesn’t change the fact that he was, and maybe still is, capable of having feelings. Saori did the same thing he did with his fingers, right?”

“Yes, she said it was their way of ensuring they’d be together after he created his cursed parts.”

“I think I get it.” He smiled slightly and lowered his head to look into the black eyes he knew so well. “If I were Sukuna, I’d do anything not to spend an eternity without you.”