#this is going to go down in the history books

[ldrfanatic]

and now i'm covered in you

theodore nott x fem!hufflepuff!reader

"You know, you can stay if you want to." + "I think I'm in trouble." + "Damned if I do, damned if I don't."

synopsis - theo finds himself crushing on hogwarts' resident ball of sunshine hufflepuff but tries to force himself to stay away.

don't question the mechanics, go with it. do we want more down bad theo?

warnings - cursing, over-used amortentia love confession trope, theo is treacherously in love

slytherin boys works

"hnnnnggghhh."

mattheo looked up from doodling in the margins of the potions assignment he'd begrudgingly been blackmailed into working on by theo. said boy had his chin perked up onto his hand and was staring across the library at y/n, hogwarts' resident happy huffle.

in all honesty, theo didn't really give two shits if mattheo did his homework or not. he just needed someone to come with him to spy on you during your weekly wednesday study session. and while mattheo seemed like the last person who'd ever be in a library (all too true assumption), he was the only slytherin that theo had any blackmail material on.

so the pair of them sat at a table in the far corner, secluded in darkness that made it relatively difficult to pick them out from the leatherbound books of the ancient history section. theo had a clear view of you, but you'd have to strain your eyes to see him, which is what made this the perfect hiding spot.

theo let out another sigh, this one so dramatic that mattheo had begun to worry that his friend's testicles had simply fallen off.

"what the hell, man?"

"look at her."

mattheo's eyebrows immediately drew together in a look that was nothing short of incredulous.

"are you obsessing over that little puff in the corner?"

theo's hand shot up to grab the other boys' hand which was gestured lazily in the direction towards your figure. you were huddled up in a tutoring session with a pair of firsties in catty-corner to them. while theo was most certain you couldn't see him, he still didn't want to chance this buffoon giving him away.

the smile you gave them was so bright that theo found himself wishing that you were even slightly aware of his existence so that maybe, you might smile at him that way. his thoughts began to wander as he thought of all of the ways that he wanted you to smile at him. a large portion of them were decidedly not friend-like.

lost in his thoughts, theo hadn't caught your approach until you stood in front of them in your bright white sneakers. though they were a little beat up from your regular trips to the gardens, theo found them undeniably adorable. maybe because they had cute little yellow flowers embroidered on the sides of the heels. or maybe he just loved them because he loved you.

"hi matty!"

the moment the endearment was out of your mouth, theo's lovesick stare turned into a glare. he had no idea that you were even acquainted with mattheo, let alone that you had a nickname for him.

"hey there, y/n." mattheo, the cocky bastard, had a shit eating grin on his face that told theo that he knew exactly why your sudden arrival had irked him. "have you met theodore yet?"

your face twisted a little and a redness crept up your neck, settling on your cheeks. you muttered a quick no, clearly embarrassed about something.

"hi theodore. i'm y/n." you extended your hand towards him and theo was certain he'd explode if he didn't get the chance to touch your skin. so, with more eagerness than was probably necessary, theo took your small hand in his own.

now would've been the perfect time to do something flirty like compliment you or press a gentle kiss to your fingers. but when theo opened his mouth, something else entirely came out.

"don't call me that."

your face fell and you snatched your hand back to pull nervously along the ends of your hair. shit, shit, shit. that came out completely wrong.

don't call me that?? what kind of asshole said stuff like that to a girl he liked? honestly, you could call him whatever you want so long as you said it in that sweet voice of yours.

"oh. sorry."

"i just mean-- theo. i'm theo... to you..." theo's tongue felt too large for his mouth as he stumbled to get his thoughts to come out of his stupid mouth correctly. "you can call me theo. if you want."

mattheo was trying, and failing, to hide his snicker as he watched his best friend make a complete fool of himself. it wasn't very often that theodore the womanizer became so flustered for a piece of ass. of course, that was the catalyst here. you were clearly far more to theodore than just another piece of ass. that much was abundantly clear to mattheo based just off this interaction alone.

"well, good night, matty... and theo." you said his name hesitantly, almost as if you were worried the boy might spaz out again. with another breathtaking smile, you turned on your back heel and fluttered out of the library.

only after he watched the heavy oak doors close behind you did theo finally allow his head to thud against the desk.

mattheo had given up on hiding his laughter and was inches away from crying actual tears of amusement. he caught his breath momentarily, if only to mock theo's earlier fumble.

"don't call me that?" another fit of giggles stopped him mid-thought. "merlin, theodore, do you like this girl or not?"

theo waved his arms out in front of him in a gesture that was surely meant to be interpreted as "clearly i fucking do". mattheo was inclined to agree with the sentiment. he was most certainly down bad for this little hufflepuff.

"don't worry theo, daphne and i will help you out."

theo really should've known better than to accept help from his crazy best friend, and, if possible, his crazier girlfriend. but after what could only be described as a pathetic first meeting, he would try anything.

"fine."

"oh, c'mon y/n!"

you were uncharacteristically unamused by daphne's antics at the moment. you weren't really sure what she was playing at, but you did know for certain that her plan would land you an awful potions grade.

professor slughorn had been gracious enough to allow you to choose your own partners for today's assignment. the catch was that you weren't sure what you'd be brewing until after you were paired up. this shouldn't have been too much of a problem except, you were abysmal at potions.

daphne had insisted on being your partner, which you didn't understand the benefit of since your friend was equally as awful as you were. "daph, if we partner together, we'll fail."

daphne faced you with a pleading puppy-eyed look that you hadn't known any slytherin capable of producing.

"please. you're my only option to not get stuck with enzo."

as if on cue, the dark haired boy's robes caught on fire as he attempted to light the flame under his cauldron a few stations back. a rather girly yelp left him as he shoved his robe off and onto the floor before stomping on it a few good times to suffocate the fire.

you winced in sympathy towards daphne, still silently scanning the room to see who else might rescue you from a failing grade.

hermione would normally be your first choice, but draco had unfortunately decided not to skip today and snagged his girlfriend before anyone else could. you noticed theo sat next to a grinning mattheo two rows behind you.

you'd only just met the boy yesterday, but you could tell by the disbelieving frown on his face that he was unhappy with his partner. theo was amazing at potions and you were certain he normally paired with blaise, who was the most semi-competent slytherin of the lot when it came to potions. but for some reason, blaise was paired with pansy today. neither of them looked upset by the arrangement, so you tried to put it out of your head and focus on your own situation.

which brought you back to now. the amortentia that you were supposed to be brewing was notably lacking in both luster and pink-ness. it smelled like moldy old socks, which you knew by the mouthwatering aroma in the air that it was not supposed to smell like that.

after nearly 45 minutes of torture, slughorn finally called an end to the brewing and made his rounds about the room. surprisingly, only three potions were made correctly.

hermione's, which you knew would happen after you saw her smacking draco away from the ingredients and cauldron the whole time. pansy and blaise, who despite having succeeded, looked thoroughly worn out from the endeavor. and theo's. it was more shocking than anything that he'd managed to accomplish anything with mattheo as his partner.

"wonderful, class! now, i want everyone to gather around one of the three successful cauldrons around the room. go on." slughorn waited patiently until the class had split itself somewhat evenly into three groups all huddled around each workstation. theo was the closest to you, so you and daphne joined their group.

"now, with your classmates, take turns and tell each other what you smell."

unsurprised when daphne and mattheo smelled each other, you leaned forward hesitantly for your turn. you didn't really know what you'd smell. on your first whiff, two smells in particular hit you hard. "i smell books and wildflowers. and... something else. something... fainter."

slughorn leaned into your small group with a delighted smile. "amazing, miss y/l/n. it's common to smell faint hints of something in amortentia when either the brewer has not acknowlegded a love of something or when a love for that thins is still developing. go on. tell us what it is my dear girl."

"i think it's... fresh cut grass? i can't place where from, though."

"that's alright."

slughorn slinked away without any further explanation. two girls you didn't recognize went next, not at all caught off guard by their smells. then, it was theo's turn and you found yourself more interested in what he smelled than you cared to admit out loud.

"i smell my nonna's fettucine, the grass on the quidditch field, and... some kind of flower."

always quick on the upswing, your face reddened as you realized that the grass you caught wind of earlier was in fact, quidditch field grass. and based off the knowing smirk from mattheo paired with his not so subtle glances between you a theodore, you smelled each other.

the class dispersed shortly afterward, thankfully with no new revelations for your already flimsy love-life.

what you hadn't expected, was for theo to be waiting for you outside the classroom door.

"oh, hi theo. i thought you might've left already."

"i tried. but mattheo threatened to die my hair green, so."

you tried not to be disappointed that he hadn't wanted to stay and talk to you. a long huff from theo had you looking up from the stonework of the floor.

he said something to himself under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "merlin i'm awful at this". before you could ask him to clarify, he'd taken your hand in his and brought it up to his mouth for a soft kiss.

"let me start over. hi, i'm theodore and i've been unashamedly in love with you for the past forever. join me in hogsmeade this weekend?"

[slttygeto]

༉‧₊˚. episode 08: lost in the fire.

preview: " . . . Without a second glance, he flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath his foot, his voice low and taunting. “I don’t feel guilt, doll.”

“I…” you cannot put into words how you feel, it feels as though you had swallowed your tongue and any smart retort you had prepared is thrown out of the window. Shuji notices the change in your expression, how you went from being incredibly affected by his words to nothing all of a sudden. There’s an emptiness behind your eyes as you nod at him. “You’re right.”

And then you were gone. ."

word count: 5,3k

content warning: nsfw warning! heavy smut, choking, biting, n!pple sucking, unprotected s/x, not enough foreplay, jealousy.

༉‧₊˚. note: happy new years :) starting 2025 with a new chapter! thank you to my amazing best friend @aurelianamu for being my beta reader and helping point out mistakes and things that needed serious editing! i am still on a hiatus, but enjoy reading. thank you!

༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!

➜ MASTERLIST

Hanma openly admits his vocabulary isn’t exactly expansive, chalking it up to his teenage self choosing cigarettes over books, biker gangs over libraries and nasty fights over going to school. Only that he knows a couple of words, they’re still insufficient when he is facing this hurricane of emotions and fails to locate the heart of it. He can’t pull the plug on something that’s blurry, so he sits in his car and looks out of his window. The vehicle trembles in sync with the rhythm of his restless foot.

A tattooed hand goes up to his face, and he slides down his blouse cuff to stare at the watch adorning his wrist; 10:32PM. You had to be awake, right? 

One would question why he couldn’t simply send you a message, and the truth is far more complicated than that suggestion. He can’t message you when he was the one who told you he doesn’t fuck you on your period. You were offended by his tone more than what he was implying, and told him and he quotes ‘to go fuck himself and never come back again’. 

Now, this wasn’t the first time that the two of you had a petty argument, the earliest one Hanma can remember was of him saying he didn’t want to eat your homemade food because he thought soup was boring, and you had glared at him the whole night until he apologized with his head between your thighs. Or when you tried to insinuate that he was so much softer than you had thought, the night ended with tears streaming down your face as you gagged and choked on his cock. 

The two of you didn’t know what communication was, sex seemed to be the solution to everything. Well, except for this time.

You were understandably hormonal when you texted him, asking if he could drop by and hang out with you for a couple of hours at the beginning of November. And him being an asshole, he made some poor joke about how ‘he doesn’t fuck women on their periods because they’ll get attached’ and the rest is history.

Hanma doesn’t think he fucked up that badly, but that wouldn’t explain the fifth cigarette he throws out of his car window as he glares daggers at your balcony door. You can’t keep ignoring him forever, it’s been ten days. 

He mutters a sharp “fuck” under his breath as he swings the car door open, stepping out and locking it with a press of his key fob. His strides are long and confident as he reaches into the pocket of his suit pants for another cigarette. Shielding the flame with his hand, he lights it, the glow briefly illuminating his face before he tucks the cigarette between his index and middle finger. He ascends the stairs, smoke curling in his wake as he eyes the apartment doors one by one. Ironically, the one thing he had memorized beside the feeling of your hallway, was the smell of homemade food that emerged from beneath your doorway, a scent which was forever engraved at the forefront of his mind. 

A familiar wooden door greets Hanma as he steps into the dimly lit hallway, and he braces himself for how many times he is going to knock to get you to open the door for him. The memory of you whisper-yelling at him to just get in flashes before his eyes and an amused smirk finds its way up his lips, but it’s immediately wiped off when the door suddenly swings open. Surprised, he takes a step back with furrowed eyebrows, hand reaching towards his gun holster out of instinct. 

Then he hears it, the sound of high heels clicking against the tiles. 

You step out of your apartment with your back facing Hanma, allowing him to scan your outfit for a brief moment. It was cold outside, so you were wearing an oversized, fluffy and warm jacket on top of what he believes to be a short dress, and the black stockings you had chosen for the night bring more attention to your legs. To match the aesthetic of the outfit, you chose to wear your knee high, black leather high heeled boots, adding a couple centimeters to your height. And to finish off the look, you had styled your hair in a way that Hanma could only describe as intoxicating. The perfume you were wearing was dizzying, and it only worsens when you turn around and Hanma sees you with a full face of makeup. The right amount of glitter, the sharp eyeliner, the mascara giving your face that doe-eyed look and finally, that lip combo.

Where the hell were you headed to?

The good thing about working in corporate jobs was the amount of birthday celebrations to look out to. You had at least two birthdays each month, and November was no exception. But to ensure that not every winter birthday is celebrated inside the company, a co-worker took it upon themselves to invite everyone to a club, and who were you to turn down the offer? 

You hated being holed up in your apartment for too long, it made you feel claustrophobic and anxious, and you were getting sick of your balcony and the same boring view. The moment you step out, you get a whiff of cigarette smell and instantly, you realize who was behind you. Your movements are slow and careful as you lock your door, fix the scarf that’s wrapped around your neck to keep you warm then–you see him.

Hanma doesn’t miss the way your eyebrows twitch when you lock eyes with him, he can’t deny that the slight purse to your lips makes the coil in his stomach tighten, then your frown deepens. 

“Smoking’s not allowed in the hallway,” you point out towards the cigarette bud hanging between his fingers.

“Where are you going?” he completely dismisses your statement, eyes scanning your outfit from head to toe for what feels like the hundredth time. He knows exactly what hides beneath those layers of clothing, he’s touched and felt and groped it so many times already–then why does it bother him that you’re dressed so prettily for an occasion?

You’re already fed up with him, your high heels clicking against the tiles as you walk past him and Hanma almost groans when he gets a whiff of your perfume. Fuck, why did he have to be so stupid?

“Whatever, don’t stay here for too long or else they’ll kick you out.” You announce as you call for the elevator, pressing the button as you put your keys in your handbag. 

The tall man is quickly standing behind you. He knows why you’re ignoring him, but he doesn’t think it entirely justifies not answering him. “Did you not hear me?”

You scoff. “You’re saying that?” 

“It’s different, I’m asking where you’re going–”

“And now I’m asking you to mind your own business?” you hear a ding and step onto the elevator, Hanma right behind you. “I’m a grown ass woman.”

“Never seen your grown ass outside at night.” How blunt.

“Oh right, because in the last two months when you’ve known me and rarely ever visited may I add, you’ve never seen me go outside after 8PM?” 

You were bitter, that’s understandable, but that doesn’t explain completely avoiding his question, does it? He was only asking about your whereabouts so that he knows where to expect to see you! 

And perhaps even follow you there. 

Hanma bites his tongue at your words. He would never admit that you were right, or that he messed up by completely ignoring your phone calls and messages because you had told him that you were on your period. However, everyone makes mistakes and it’s what makes us human…

…or however that saying goes. 

The elevator starts to go down, his golden eyes alternate between scanning the number shown in bold colors indicating the floor number and the screen of your phone. You were sending a text in a group chat, he could see the name of it–something about your company, and next to it was the word ‘birthday party!’. He’s thankful that he’s being sneaky enough to be able to look at what you were typing, however that doesn’t last when you finally notice that he has grown a little too quiet. You hide your phone in your chest.

“Can you not?” you hiss, voice laced with venom as you shoot him a glare over your shoulder. 

“A colleague’s birthday?”

“What are you, twelve?” you furrow your eyebrows as you turn to face him fully. Even with high heels, you don’t reach his full height and you hate it. You hate that you are looking up at him, at his handsome face which you didn’t see for a full week, and you absolutely despise the way he is staring at you.

His eyes were devouring you, forcing you to think of anything but how you’ve made them roll to the back of his head countless times. You refuse to stare at his bulging arms, or how his hair was slightly disheveled from running a hand through it. Was he frustrated by his own actions? You hope he was, you hope he fisted his cock pathetically to the thought of you, that his whines were so loud it echoes in his empty apartment. You pray that a mission interrupted his alone time, and he had to finish off some guy he didn’t like with painful blue balls.

And you fervently and desperately hope that he cannot read your true thoughts.

“Add sixteen years to that,” he replies while bringing the cigarette to his lips, taking a whiff from the stick. He pulls his hand away, smirking when he notices the slight shift in your expression and it worsens when he blows smoke on your face.

“Stop that! I don’t want to smell like cigarettes when I get in the car!”

“Oh?” he tilts his head to the side, golden eyes locked with yours as he searches for another clue. “So you need a car to get there?”

“I would be crazy if I walked outside dressed like this.” you ignore his intense stare, masking your nervousness with annoyance as you pull out your phone again. 

“Who’s driving you there?”

“None of your damn business.” 

“An uber.” The elevator finally dings and you hurriedly step out of the cubicle, trying to get away from him as far as possible. 

“Oh! We got ourselves a detective here!” you exclaim jokingly, the sound of high heels clicking against the tiles echoing in the empty hallway. “You should work for the FBI, has anyone ever told you that?”

Hanma ignores your comments, his strides long and purposeful as he walks right behind you. “You keep clutching your purse, it’s open so you can make sure that your credit card is there and your forgetful ass didn’t actually miss anything. You’ll stop getting anxious when you get into the car and pay the driver–”

“Stop that!” You finally turn around to stare at him, and the tall man has to stop himself from scooping you into his arms and fucking you against the nearest wall. You puff out your chest like a balloon ready to burst, a fragile show of dominance and anger, but you were clearly fed up and you couldn’t handle hearing his voice anymore.

“You think you can read me easily, you think using your little criminal tricks on me will get you off the hook, it doesn’t.” you get even closer to the man, a manicured finger poking at his chest with each syllable rolling off your tongue. “You think you’re the only one who can read me? Well, I’ll tell you what’s in front of me right now.”

Hanma remains unnervingly quiet, so you continue.

"I see a man who couldn’t keep his word if his life depended on it. Someone who drowns his guilt in cigarette smoke because facing it is too much to bear. A man so shaken by the idea of me living my life without catering to him that he’ll go as far as to ruin it for me, hoping to force a reaction out of me. Well, guess what? You won’t. So enjoy your misery and your frustration, because tonight? You won’t be getting anything from me"

The only sounds breaking the stillness of the moment were the occasional hum of passing cars outside the building, their distant echoes a sharp contrast to the suffocating quiet of the hallway. The air around you felt heavy as you struggled to catch your breath, your face was in flames. Your gaze flickered wildly over Shuji’s expression, desperate to find even the slightest crack, some hint that your words had gotten to him, that they had landed where they intended to. 

But all you were met with was silence, dragging on until a scoff cut through the air and you felt your chest tightening. 

Without a second glance, he flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath his foot, his voice low and taunting. “I don’t feel guilt, doll.”

“I…” you cannot put into words how you feel, it feels as though you had swallowed your tongue and any smart retort you had prepared is thrown out of the window. Shuji notices the change in your expression, how you went from being incredibly affected by his words to nothing all of a sudden. There’s an emptiness behind your eyes as you nod at him. “You’re right.” 

And then you were gone. 

He doesn’t try to follow you, the sound of your high heels clicking against the concrete becomes a distant sound the farther you walk away and he stands near the entrance of the building with his hands buried in his pockets. 

It was time to work.

—

“Where were you? We were looking for you!”

“Sorry! My cat threw up on the carpet and I had to clean it real quick,” you say with a wave of hands, looking around the crowded area with bright eyes. “Seems like the birthday girl is having fun!” 

You see a flash of red hair on the dance floor, and chuckle when you notice the way she seemed to effortlessly become the center of attention. People were cheering her on, clapping and asking the DJ to change the song just to match her energy. Meanwhile, you decide to take off your coat and place it on the chair that a coworker had reserved for you. 

You weren’t the type to go clubbing, years of being constantly guarded by your brothers had left you tense and uneasy under the flashing lights, but you envied those who did it so effortlessly. They wouldn’t look as awkward as you do. 

That is until you feel a pair of eyes following your every move, and you are forced to look at them. 

It was a coworker, someone you had grown comfortable around because of his kind gestures. He would offer to help you carry papers around even if you were going to take the elevator, and when you ran out of water or your favorite drink in the fridge, he would be the first to request a restock for you. He was a gentleman, one that didn’t know how to hide his attraction towards you.

And you didn’t seem to mind it, a woman could appreciate being treated nicely once in a while.

“Not going to join them?” He gestures towards the rest of your colleagues who seemed to be enjoying their time on the dance floor. You chuckle as you shake your head, leaning back in your seat.

“Dancing is not my thing,”

The man, whose name is Tomoya, takes this as an open invitation to sit across from you. He puts his elbows on the table as he leans forward, clearly invested in the conversation.

“Why? It’s just moving your body to the beat.”

You press your lips as you hum, leaning towards the brown haired man as you respond.“Hmmm, I’m not sure if I like that.” 

“How about this, if I can change your mind, you–” he pauses as he points his finger at you, eyes glimmering with mischief. “--go on a date with me.”

You scoff, raising an eyebrow at him. “A date?”

“Yup.” 

How do you explain this to a man you hardly speak to at work? How do you tell him that your life is already entangled with someone else–someone too deeply involved in your world to simply cut loose? The idea of going on a date with Tomoya doesn’t seem so bad, but the thought of facing Hanma, of telling him about the possibility that you want to end whatever it is you have, makes you hold your head in your hands. 

“We’ll see.”

You’ll deal with it later.

The rhythm of the music reverberates through the air as you find yourself on the dance floor with your colleague, Tomoya, who seems to be enjoying himself far more than you. The bass is heavy, the lights flicker like a heartbeat, and for a moment, you can almost forget your reservations. His encouragement draws a timid smile from you, and despite your clumsy attempts to follow his lead, you eventually surrender to the music. The tension in your shoulders eases as your movements become less forced, and soon enough, you find yourself laughing and moving your body to the beat.

You walk through the crowd to greet the birthday girl, your grin bright and contagious as you ask if she’s having fun. Before long, Tomoya succeeds to reclaim your attention. His lips move, but it’s hard to hear anything with the loud music.

“What?” you call out, cupping your ear for emphasis.

With a smile, he leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “I said, you look beautiful.”

Goosebumps rise on your skin at his words, and your face heats up. Your laughter quiets down as you shyly glance away, scanning the room for an escape from his intense gaze. That’s when you see him. A familiar figure near the bar freezes you in place. Your chest tightens, the world blurring as you focus on the tall man leaning casually against the counter.

“Are you okay?” Tomoya’s voice snaps you back, but your response is dismissive.

“Yeah, yeah,” you pat his shoulder with a forced smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Your steps quicken as you drag your feet through the crowd, each stride bringing more dread. Please don’t be him. Please. But as you approach him, there’s no denying it. That sharp grin, the cigarette dangling between his fingers–it’s him. Your hand finds his shoulder before you can stop yourself, and when he turns, you’re met with those golden eyes that seem to silently mock your surprise. 

“Well, what a coincidence, doll,” Hanma drawls, his voice dripping with amusement. “Do you need something?”

“Excuse me,” you snap, your hand gripping his forearm as you pull him to his feet. “We need to talk.”

“Oh absolutely,” he smirks, letting you drag him past the sea of curious eyes. He seems far too entertained for your liking, his laughter barely contained as you shove open the door to the women’s bathroom.

The startled gasps and shrieks from the women inside only add to the dread you were feeling. You glance around apologetically, muttering a quick, “Sorry,” as they scurry out, a few of them shooting you knowing looks. 

“Relationship emergency?” one asks before disappearing out the door.

“I don’t know,” you mutter, locking the door behind you.

“Are you insane?” you whirl around, glaring at Hanma as he leans casually against the sinks, an infuriating smirk painted across his face. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Why? Did I ruin your little moment out there?” His tone is playful, but there’s an edge to it that makes your throat tighten and your mouth go dry. “Mad that I stopped you from almost fucking him?”

“Don’t you even start–”

“Or what?” His voice drops, low and dangerous, as he pushes off the sink and begins to close the distance between the two of you. The confidence in his stride makes your knees feel like jelly, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the way he towers over you so easily. “Tell me, doll, is this why you didn’t want to tell me where you were going tonight? Were you afraid I’d show up and fuck up your little date with that fucker?”

“Don’t call him that,” you retort, though your voice wavers under his suffocating stare.

His eyebrows raise, mock surprise etched across his face. “Oh? Defending him now, are we?”

“I’m not defending him!” you argue, though the crack in your voice betrays you. Shit, you were a nervous mess. “He didn’t do anything to deserve your anger.”

Hanma chuckles, low and menacing. “Anger? Oh, doll, I’m not angry. Not with him, anyway.” His steps falter when he’s inches away from you, his body caging you against the door. “Because we both know he doesn’t mean shit to you, right?”

Your silence speaks louder than words, and the corner of his mouth twitches upward.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs. “It’d crush him, wouldn’t it? If he knew why you’re so hesitant to go on a date with him.”

“I never said–” Your breath catches as his hand cups your jaw, tilting your face upward. 

“So you do want to go on a date with him?” His golden eyes burn into yours, searching for something, though his grin never falters.

You gulp, your voice barely above a whisper. “...maybe.”

His thumb brushes your bottom lip, and you can’t stop the way your lips part instinctively. “You’re a liar,” he coos, his tone dripping with mock pity.

“Am not–”

A gasp is ripped from your body when you feel his knee push past your thigh, landing perfectly on your clothed cunt as he presses you further against the wall.

“Let’s try again,” he purrs, pressing his lips against your ear. “Do you want to go on a date with him?”

Your lips tremble as you throw your head back, and Shuji’s hand lands perfectly on your throat. He feels a piece of jewelry there, but he ignores it as he squeezes your neck gently, drawing a quiet moan out of you. 

“I…” you start, unable to keep your eyes open as you feel your body burn up. The effect he had on you, the way it felt effortless to make a mess of you felt unfair. You gulp as you try to morph the lust in your gaze into anger. “I do.”

A pair of lips crash against yours almost immediately, and Hanma quickly catches as your knees give out on you at the impact. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss this–his lips, how roughly he handled your body whilst making sure that nothing hurt you, because you craved it more than anything else. So you kiss him, fervently moving your lips against his as your hands claw at his shoulders and back. You felt like a flower starved of sunlight, withering in the absence of warmth and connection. 

Hanma couldn’t offer either, but his touch was enough to fill the void. 

He pats your butt and you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist before sitting you on the sink. The marble is cold, sending a sharp chill against your skin but it quickly fades away when Hanma’s lips travel down your neck, then your exposed chest where your perfume hits his nostrils the hardest. 

The tall man stands there, inhaling deeply as your scent washes over his senses, his eyes closing as he surrenders to its intoxicating pull. He notices the necklace, how it seems to be stuck to your skin even if it doesn’t match your attire and something coils in his stomach.

Without second thought, he sinks his teeth on the skin of your boob, a loud gasp ripping from your throat as your hand finds his hair.

“Not there–” You try to reason with him, but he doesn’t listen. Instead, he sinks his teeth into a different spot, watching as you throw your head back, your back arching in response, a wave of pleasure taking over.

If he could, he would tear that piece of jewelry from your body.

“Shuji,” the sound of his name slipping from your lips is a melodic drawl, intoxicating him like no drug ever could. An animalistic growl rumbles from the back of his throat as he pulls down the top of your dress, revealing your boobs. The cold air makes goosebumps rise on your skin, and your nipples instantly harden under the attention given to them. 

He fervently licks and sucks on the buds, shoving his hands under your dress. You are lost in the pleasure, fingers digging in his scalp as he gently bites on your left nipple, his hand groping the other breast. 

Then you hear a tearing sound, followed by a sudden chill, making you shiver as the coldness creeps in.

“Oh my god!” you scream in horror, instinctively trying to close your legs as you eye the ripped stockings. “Those were expensive you fucking asshole!” 

“Fuck that,” your heart stills when you see him lean down, biting your inner thighs and salivating at the sight of your black thong. “I’ve got money.”

“Y-You’re not buying me a-anyth–ah!” you try to cover your mouth when you feel his head get shoved between your thighs, a wet tongue pressing against the fabric of your thong. And then, you hear a dark chuckle. 

“You smell so fucking good. Did all that fighting turn you on?” he pulls away, his fingers playing with the straps of your thong. “Or did you fuck around hoping that I’d fuck the attitude out of ya?”

Stubborn yet looking for a good fuck, you respond breathlessly.“No.”

“No?” he tilts his head, a mocking expression on his face as he purses his lips. “So you don’t want me to fuck you?”

He sees you look down at your own lap, and bursts out laughing as he finally removes the fabric off of your body. “Ah, you’re so fucking adorable,” he moves away from the sink and starts to unbuckle his belt. You sit up on the sink to admire him as he frees his hardened cock, stroking it a couple of times before standing between your thighs. He notices your starstruck gaze, and a low chuckle rumbles from the back of his throat, as if amused by the effect he has on you.

“Cockdrunk already?”

“Shut up.” You pull him in for a kiss, your hand traveling down to line up his tip with your entrance. He parts his lips, but then you feel him smile against your mouth. You open your eyes to meet his gaze. 

He watches with an amused grin as your jaw goes slack the moment he pushes himself inside, but it quickly fades away when the wetness of your pussy washes over his senses and he has to take a moment to ground himself. 

He can’t cum too quickly, that would be pathetic.

Hanma doesn’t take long before starting to fuck you, slow and calculated thrusts quickly turn into hurried and sloppy ones when your pussy clamps down on him with each kiss he presses to your pulse. He feels his self control slipping through the cracks of his mind, and when he finally looks at your face again, he is reminded of why the two of you were fucking in the women’s bathroom. 

With a clenched jaw and flared nostrils, his hand travels to the back of your head and he yanks it back. 

“Thought we had an agreement doll,” he hisses through gritted teeth, barely able to keep his eyes open as he grips your hair. “I thought you knew that you couldn’t pull shit like that with me. But I bet you like it, huh? You love testing my limits–ah fuck!” you clamp down on him again when he hits that one spot that makes your eyes roll, the added friction of his crotch against your clit sending shivers down your spine as you arch your back.

“Oh my god!” you cry out, the burning in your scalp mixing with pleasure. 

Hanma leans forward, pressing his lips against your cheek as he growls. “Answer me.” 

Tears well in your eyes, overwhelmed by the sheer presence of him. He was everywhere–inside of you, touching you–and now it felt as though he was trying to invade your very thoughts. “Fuck, fuck Shuji please don’t stop, please–” 

He continues to fuck you at the same angle, licking his fingers to rub your clit in messy circles.“You like getting on my nerves, don’t ya? Makes it more fun for me to fuck you stupid.”

“Oh!” You gasp at the stimulation, eyes widening as you try to look down at where the two of you meet. “Oh, right there!”

“I asked you a fucking question.”He spits out venomously, his grip tightening around your head, forcing your forehead to press against his as he holds you in place.

“Yes!” You cry out, not caring about how fucked out you must look. “Yes, yes I do! I love it, oh my god please don’t stop fucking me, please–”

“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought–come on baby girl, get filthy with me.” Hanma grins triumphantly, but the pleasure starts to wash over him. “Make a mess on me, pretty girl. Use my cock, you know how to do that.” 

He leans back, watching as you pathetically try to move your hips back and forth. After a few failed attempts, you break down in front of him.

“I c-can’t, I can’t!” You sob, your hips trembling and shaky. Hanma’s gaze locks onto yours, his dark eyes fixated on the tears streaming down your cheeks–the sight of you so fragile beneath him is enough to send him over the edge. “Please, please fuck me Shuji.”

“Fuck–” His hand wraps around your throat, fingers grazing your necklace as he captures it in the same motion, and then his hips find that same delicious pace. His fingers find your clit again, rubbing in the same dizzying motion that made you the loudest earlier, but instead he hears nothing.

You suddenly fall quiet as your body arches away from him and Hanma watches in awe as your hand shakily grips his forearm. The bathroom is filled with wet sounds of skin to skin, and then he feels something wet on his pants and a loud gasp painfully rips from the back of your throat. 

“Oh shit!” His proud laughter dies down on his tongue as your pussy clenches on him, burying his face in your chest. He reaches his own orgasm after a couple of strokes, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his own noises.

The two of you sit there in silence, with mostly you trying to familiarize yourself with your surroundings. You had never cum that hard before, not with a man at least, and your face burns with the realization that you squirted on him.

“Oh no, how am I going to clean that?” you don’t even notice that Shuji’s pants are soiled as well, his cock still nestled in your pussy.

“I don't pay cleaners so I can grab a mop myself.” 

“What?” you furrow your eyebrows as you stare at him. “What do you mean?”

“Did I not tell ya?”

“Huh?”

 His voice dips lower as his grin stretches wider, “I own this club, doll.”

2025 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[jjkbambi]

he’s all over the place!

luigi seems to really value authenticity and simplicity — in his infamous backpacking reddit postc he claims even from a young age he has never been interested in material goods which can explain his overuse of the bali shirt. proven again in one of his 4 star book reviews: “fantastic, clear content. -1 star: too infomercial, too aesthetics-focused.” his experiments with living out of a backpack reflect adaptability and a willingness to let go.

luigi seems to only read non-fiction, so as a romantic partner, i think he’d be a bit clueless. seeing as though relationships are never mentioned in his lengthy reddit history, his incredibly wordy goodreads (he sometimes posted his google docs links as goodreads has a word count he can’t exceed) or opinionated twitter page, romance not a priority for him.

if it’s any consolation, luigi is deeply interested in learning and improvement. he’s introspective, plans ahead (see that he read two travel books about hawaii before setting off to move there). his constant stream of big ideas and opinions indicates he likes being heard and recognized for his wits. notable traits: driven, prefers control, argumentative, contrarian, possibly short-tempered.

however friends can attest to him being incredibly kind and empathetic. contrary to the cs major stereotype, he is good at making friends and willing to put himself out there. went out late at night for his drunk friend to accompany her in a mission to find mochi. easy to approach, would be completely comfortable with making a move on a girl he liked. seeing as though he likes a challenge, i think he’d find it infinitely more interesting if a girl approached him first. rules by venus, taurus men tend to be attracted those who take care of their appearance and exude natural charm. anyway notable traits: down to earth, loyal, grounded.

things he would like in a partner low maintenance, well-read, realist, patient, successful & driven in their own right (preferably in a different field — he would love to hear about worlds other than coding and computers), thoughtful, rather a listener than a talker

him as a partner very traditional, though enjoys experimenting, independent (deeply values his personal space and autonomy), open to growth (intensely analytical of everything he did, would likely take note of things you were more or less responsive to), perhaps a bit unreliable when it comes to romantic gestures, could be prone to “drops your hand at dinner” syndrome

love languages quality time, acts of service, physical touch

values honesty, communication, mutual respect, adaptability

does not like instant gratification, laziness, ego, over-dependence, coffee

man idk what im about to ask but can someone just do an analysis on luigi mangione's personality? i am SO intrigued. i just saw a vid of a girl being like "him and his blue bali shirt against the world" and explaining how all nerdy guys have this quirk where they are deathly loyal to a single clothing item apparel. i just want to know what his person is like i mean he's so smart so cute he reads the same books i read?!?!?! did yall even see his twitter?? one tweet was him saying "man i used to be so bummed in math class because if i was born during that one dude's time i wouldve solved the pythagoream theory already, but i feel so happy to stand on the shoulders of history and have access to problems that the past could only dream of having" like what? someone debunk this man. PLEASE.

[mythicmanuscripts]

Aemond and Aegon’s (separately) top three kinks and top three favorite forms of aftercare?

Oooo very good question Anon!! I'm gonna write a little bit about each of my thoughts on this and then leave the rest up to you lads

NSFW sub!aemond and aegon below the cut!

AEMOND - TOP THREE KINKS:

Service. Obviously. This should come as no surprise to anyone. He doesn't just want you to order him in the bedroom, he wants you to tell hm how to help you and be good for you. He has to feel useful.

Hair pulling. I know this one is kinda basic but there's no way he doesn't enjoy this. Usually he's not too hectically into pain play but there's nothing that gets his knees to buckle faster than when you grab the hair at the nape of his neck, just turns him to jelly.

Ownership. Again a no brainer here. He wants to feel like he's yours and yours alone. No one else can touch him, no one else can even look at him. Let him wear a collar and tug at it while calling him yours and he may genuinely just cum on the spot.

AEGON - TOP THREE KINKS:

Dumbnification. Nothing he loves more than when you gather him into your arms and tell him that he obviously can't look after himself, you must do it for him. He can't think, and he doesnt need to think, not when you call him pretty and kiss his head and tell him he doesnt need to worry about a single thing.

Overstimulation. This shouldnt be much of a surprise either. He absolutely loves when you push him to the brink, when you wring as many orgasms out of him as you can until he's just. a blubbering mess. Also he'll become a nuisance to the entire keep if he goes to long without it.

Competence kink. I actually can't believe I've never thought about this him before. Aegon knows he's not the smartest and he's been looked down upon for that his entire life. He absolutely hates being made to feel stupid, but at the same time nothing turns him him on quite like knowing his do is an expert in this and he'll be very well look after. He just gets so flustered and turned on when he gets to watch you in your element, when he can see first hand how good you are at what you do.

AEMOND - TOP THREE AFTERCARE FORMS:

Debrief - The first and most important to Aemond actually only happens once the scene is over and you're both pretty well recovered. He has to have a debrief afterwards, to hear what you thought and how you felt and to share his own perspective. if he skips this part of the aftercare then he'll feel off and unsettled for the rest of the day.

Reading - as we know, Aemond has studied history extensively. It's because of this love for history that you like to read some of his favourite history books to him while he recovers. You always ensure to choose a book you know he's already read, because he doesn't want surprises or to have to pay attention. He wants to just float as he listens to your voice.

If he doesn't want the reading, then quiet time if the next option you always go with. Aemond absolutely adores being able to let go and enter subspace with you, but when he comes up back up he can often be extremely sensitive to light and sound until he's recovered more. So often aftercare is just letting him slowly come down while he snuggles against your chest.

AEGON:

Cuddles. I know cuddles is implied in pretty much all aftercare thoughts but for this little grade A clinger it deserves its own category. For him it's not just that eh wants cuddles, it's that he won the able to recover otherwise.

Following on from cuddles, he also has to be in the same room as you for aftercare. If you forgot to bring snacks before the scene starts then you have to call a servant and ask for them to be brought out because if you even looked like you might be leaving he'd just burst into tears, completely inconsolable.

Lastly, he just loves when you talk to him while he slowly recovers and comes back. Aegin tends to become much quieter when he's in subspace and this can carry through to his aftercare. Unlike Aemond, reading him a story is never a good idea because the poor little thing can barely concentrate on it. But when you just keep a near constant monologue of your day? Incredible. He lets you voice wash over him without a care in the world.

[kirby-derb]

Now a Lil fic cause I can :)

College Au

The university library was packed with students drowning in the chaos of finals week, but the loudest table was undeniably theirs: John, Simon, Kyle, Johnny, and Alex—the group of friends who’d somehow become inseparable over their years at the university.

Price sat at the head of the table, glasses perched on his nose, surrounded by history textbooks and handwritten notes. His usual air of tranquility slightly by the paperclip chain someone (likely Johnny) had clipped to his sleeve. "You lot are hopeless," he muttered, flipping a page. "If you put half the energy into your studies as you do into being a pain, we wouldn’t be in here all night."

Johnny leaned back dangerously far in his chair, balancing a mechanical pencil on his nose. “Aw, lighten up, Jo-Jo. Finals are just fancy pop quizzes.”

Kyle snorted, typing furiously on his laptop. “Spoken like someone who’s failed two pop quizzes this semester.”

“Two?!” Alex chimed in, looking up from his notes on renewable energy that somehow never faltered. “That’s generous. I’d put the over-under at four.”

Johnny dramatically clutched his chest. “You lot dont know what its like bein in engineering, 90% of the class failed!”

Simon, sitting across from him, barely looked up from his physics book. “You’re not wrong, though. I saw his econ grade. It’s a miracle he’s still here.”

“Not everyone can calculate orbital velocity in their sleep, Si” Johnny shot back. “Some of us have to work with personality.”

“Right,” Simon deadpanned. “How’s that working out for you?”

Before Johnny could retort, Price clapped his hands together. “Enough! Five-minute break. I need to find some aspirin before you lot give me an aneurysm.” As he walked away the heard him muttering about something like 'I should just stay home, but noo I just had to go socialize- Jesus-'

As the group dispersed momentarily, the library’s old fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead. The building felt more tired than usual, and there was a stack of flyers on a nearby table announcing a fundraiser for the school, that no one had dared acknowledge yet.

Alex returned first, holding two cups of coffee. He slid one over to Kyle, who looked at it like it was manna from heaven. “Bless you.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank the last working vending machine on campus,” Alex said, sliding back into his seat.

Johnny returned next, juggling a box of animal crackers he’d swiped from a study snack cart. He started flicking them at Kyle. “What’s the over-under on this campus even having vending machines next semester?”

Kyle caught one mid-air and munched it without looking up. “I’d say slim to none if we keep burning out the Wi-Fi like last week.”

“That was an accident,” Johnny defended.

“You crashed the whole system trying to run simulations for a catapult mate.” Simon said as he reappeared, a water bottle in hand

Price groaned as he sat back down, rubbing his temples. “I still can’t believe the dean called an assembly about that. You’re grown adults.”

“Technically,” Kyle muttered.

The five of them settled back into their seats, though the teasing didn’t entirely subside. Johnny, ever the jester, started crafting increasingly elaborate paper airplanes, one of which soared dangerously close to Price’s ear.

“John,” Price warned, not even looking up from his notes.

Johnny grinned. “Just testing aerodynamics!”

As they worked, the library’s clock chimed midnight. For all their jokes and distractions, the group’s camaraderie was palpable. Even with the weight of uncertainty hanging over the campus, they found ways to laugh and keep each other grounded.

Kyle stretched and yawned, closing his laptop. “Alright, who’s betting Johnny makes it through finals without another disaster?”

“No chance,” Simon said immediately, prompting another round of laughter.

🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🎀

[lyreofchrysaor]

How to Study Resources

Many people in the modern day pagan/polytheist communities are young. As such, a majority of them are neurodivergent, like I am. For me, that means a majority of the language used in resources is difficult to understand. This was originally going to be a post about that, but the more I wrote, the more I realised that many people, neurodivergent or not, just... don't know how to study resources. So, if you are someone that also struggles, I now present to you... my full guide on how to study resources.

Little disclaimer: I myself am a hellenic polytheist, but this guide is for anyone that struggles with understanding information from resources, whether you are a hellenic polytheist, norse polytheist, kemetic polytheist, etc. Though do understand that I am writing from the perspective of a hellenic polytheist, so I am bound to make mistakes when it comes to religions I am less educated on. You are always welcome to adjust anything I say here to fit your own religion accordingly.

Let's get started.

Firstly, you have to find resources. Many people happen to get stuck here, unfortunately.

How do I know what to research to begin with? When starting out, the general consensus among the polytheist/pagan communities is to research the related historical practice. How the deities were worshipped, what contexts they were worshipped in, the history of the deities, etc etc... all of these are very important factors to consider as a beginner. Only by knowing the history can you then delve deeper into specific terms and specific paths that may be right for you!

How do I find resources? Unfortunately, a lot of resources are behind paywalls or just plain hard to find. Here is a list of websites that I personally use and recommend:

scholar.google.com

academia.edu

pdfdrive.com

library.memoryoftheworld.org

libcom.org

libretexts.org

standardebooks.org

By the way, just a reminder that if you find a resource but there is a pesky paywall in your way, you can probably find it on archive.org for free!

How do I choose a resource though? If you are part of hellenic polytheism, then theoi.com is a great resource, but I always like to add primary sources into my research + not everyone reading this will be part of helpol. Try to find primary sources, first and foremost. Then read historical accounts. Then read secondary sources. Also, make sure your author is reliable! (that link is only for hellenic polytheism though, apologies. If you are not part of hellenic polytheism, then looking into who the author is/was as a person and what sort of contributions they made and beliefs they held never failed me personally!)

Found your resource? Made sure the author is reliable? Wonderful! Now what?

This is usually where the procrastination hits for me. Either that, or I get hyperfocused for a while but never complete it and then lose interest.

To avoid that, break things down and establish a routine. You do not have to finish a book in a day, or understand everything you read straight away. Setting those kinds of expectations for yourself will only make things so much more difficult.

Instead, make a routine for yourself. Outlined below is my routine:

Getting into the mindset. I always like to get myself into the mindset of studying by praying, whether this is studying for school or studying a resource. Since my entire life is devoted to lord Apollon, I pray to Him for it. However, if I am researching a specific god, I will typically pray to them instead. However, sometimes I do not have the spoons to write out a prayer, so I typically just adjust my surroundings instead. Turning my LED lights to a warmer colour and putting on some lofi music usually helps me! The studyblr community has great tips for this part! I also recommend I Miss My Cafe.

Reading. First, I try to read without annotating or taking notes. This is the time to take in the information, to try and grasp what I am reading. This is usually the most difficult part for me, because a lot of academic sources tend to use advanced language and sentence structures that are difficult for me to understand. Unfortunately, the only tip I have for this part is to read as slowly as you need. Do not be ashamed for taking your time. Typically, I only like to read one paragraph before I move onto the next step.

Annotation. This is where I re-read the paragraph I just read. Typically, I like to re-word the paragraph in a simpler way for me to understand. Sometimes I notice little patterns that may connect back to something I've read prior, whether in another book or earlier in the same book. When that happens, that is something I add too! Remember, you do not have to annotate. If it makes it easier, then perfect! If it does not, discard it.

Consult study tools. This is where I cross-reference with other resources. This is how the entire process repeats again. Though, you do not just have to use books for this part! YouTube videos, podcasts, online resources, etc etc...these always help too!

Application. After vetting the information, consider how it would apply to your life, if at all.

Of course, that's just my routine. You are always welcome to use it, but I also greatly encourage you to create your own routine so that you can cater it to your learning style!

I also recommend setting a time limit for yourself. If you have not completed a chapter within the time limit, that is okay! The most important thing about researching is making sure you are not guilting yourself into biting off more than you can chew. Take your time, you have a lot of it.

Research is vital to religions like ours, and research should be something everyone can do! Just because you may need some accommodations does not make you any less intelligent. We all learn differently. That is okay.

I hope this post can serve as something helpful for those who struggle in this area, and as a reminder that you are not alone in your struggles. If you have any questions or would like further clarification on some points, feel free to reach out!

Xaire ♡

[hollowed-theory-hall]

My Hogwarts Castle Design

Some of my notes regarding it can be found here and some of my rambling about the castle's architecture here.

In this post, I'm just going to post the images I came to as an amalgamation of all book quotes regarding the castle's structure merged with the basic structure and some floor plan elements from Hogwarts Legacy (since the castle is gorgeous and similar in aesthetic to the movies versions. I'm saying versions because every movie had a differently designed Hogwarts).

Maybe I can make a post regarding all the book quotes that went into this design like Ron saying the lake is to the south of the school (PoA), the DADA and the Transfiguration office have a view of the Quidditch Pitch (OotP, PoA) and the Quidditch Pitch is near the lake (OotP), the lawn for the flying classes is on the opposite side of the grounds to the Forbidden Forest (PS) and the Whomping Willow is visible from the Herbology Greenhouses (CoS), the moving staircases aren't accessible from the ground floor near the Great Hall (PS), Myrtel's bathroom near the DADA office (CoS), hidden passage with the trick step being near the DADA office on the 2nd floor (location mentioned in HBP, but the passage itself is mentioned in multiple books), etc.

So without further ado, my attempt at a Hogwarts floor plan:

There might be some inaccuracies, becouse this was a crazy puzzle to try and make sense of so I tried my best based on various quotes in the books. Locations we know exist but aren't told anything about where they are, were just placed down where I thought reasonable.

I kept the common rooms/dormitories layout similar to that in Hogwarts Legacy (since it's pretty), but I made sure all of them would have enough dorm rooms and bathrooms (which isn't the case in the game).

(I hope my calligraphy is legible enough. I advice zooming in if you want to read all the details on the images)

Dungeons:

Left - Lower Dungeons, Slytherin's Common Room.

Right - Dungeons, Potions Labs, Snape's office, Detention Chambers, the obstacle course under Fluffy's room.

Basement

Left - Actual Basement - Kitchens, Hufflepuff Common Room.

Right - Half floor between Basement and Ground Floor - Hufflepuff Girls Dorms.

Ground Floor

Entrance Hall, Great Hall, Staff Room, Filch's office, Viaduct Courtyard.

1st Floor

Classrooms 1-15, Hospital Wing, Viaduct, Greenhouses, DADA classroom, History classroom, Muggle Studies classroom.

Classroom 11 is said to be on the ground floor, but I placed it on the 1st floor, which is technically the ground floor of the second building. It just worked better with everything else.

2nd Floor

Classrooms 1B-15B, Transfiguration classroom, Ancient Runes classroom, DADA office, Moaning Myrtle toilet.

3rd Floor

Classrooms 1C-11C, Fluffy's room, Charms Corridor, Charms Classroom, Trophy Room, Armor Gallery, Library.

I tried to make the scene in which they accidentally run into Fluffy's room after the Trophy Room, and I think this sort of works for what Harry describes if you squint. The description just doesn't make much sense when trying to keep the general structure seen in the movies/games.

4th Floor

Classrooms 1D-8D, Restricted Section.

5th Floor

Classrooms 1E-5E, Ravenclaw Common Room entrance, Prefect's bathroom, Arithmancy Classroom.

6th Floor

Classrooms 1F-2F.

7th Floor

Classrooms 1G-2G, Gryffindor Common Room entrance, Divination Classroom, RoR.

Towers

Left - Floor 8 - Headmaster's Office, Owlery

Center - Floor 9

Right - Floor 10 - Astronomy Tower

[readyforevolution]

Slave making

Our people weren't brought right here to this country. They were first dropped off in the West Indian islands, in the Caribbean. Most of the slaves that were brought from Africa were dropped off first in the Caribbean, West Indian islands. Why? This was the breaking-in grounds. They would break them in down there. When they broke them in, then they would bring the ones whose spirit had been broken on to America. They had all kinds of tactics for breaking them in. They bred fear into them, for one thing.

I read in one book how the slave maker used to take a pregnant woman, a Black woman, and make her watch as her man would be tortured and put to death. One of those slave makers had trees that he planted in positions where he would bend them and tie them, and then tie the hand of a Black man to one, a hand to the other, and his legs to two more, and he'd cut the rope. And when he'd cut the rope, that tree would snap up and pull the arm of the Black man right out of his socket, pull him up into four different parts. I'll show you books where you can read it, they write about it. And they made the pregnant Black women stand there and watch as they did it, so that all this grief and fear that they felt would go right into that baby, that Black baby that was yet to be born. It would be born afraid, born with fear in it. And you've got it in you right now—right now, you've still got it. When you get in front of that blue-eyed thing, you start to itching, don't you? And you don't know why. It was bred into you. But when you find out how they did it, you can get it out of you and put it right back in them.

Now, I'm not talking racism. [Applause] This isn't racism—this is history, we're dealing with just a little bit of history tonight. We've only got a few minutes left, so I'm trying to go fast. I'm kind of tired, so I can't go too fast—you'll have to excuse me—but I just want to get the rest of this out.

They used to take a Black woman who would be pregnant and tie her up by her toes, let her be hanging head down, and they would take a knife and cut her stomach open, let that Black unborn child fall out, and then stomp its head in the ground. I'll show you books where they write about this, I'll name them to you: Slave Trade by Spears; From Slavery to Freedom by John Hope Franklin; Negro Family in the U.S. by Frazier touches on some of it. All night long—Anti-Slavery by Dwight Lowell Dumond—I'll cite you books all night long, where they write themselves on what they did to you and me. And have got the nerve to say we teach hate because we're talking about what they did. Why, they're lucky, really, they're lucky, they're fortunate.

Slaves used to sing that song about "My Lord's going to move this wicked race and raise up a righteous nation that will obey." They knew what they were talking about—they were talking about the man. They used to sing a song, "Good News, a Chariot Is Coming." If you notice, everything they sang in those spirituals was talking about going to get away from here. None of them wanted to stay here. You're the only ones, sitting around here now like a knot on a log, wanting to stay here. You're supposed to be educated and hip, you're supposed to know what's happening, you know—they're not supposed to know what's happening. But everything they sang, every song, had a hint in it that they weren't satisfied here, that they weren't being treated right, that somebody had to go.

The slave maker knew that he couldn't make these people slaves until he first made them dumb. And one of the best ways to make a man dumb is to take his tongue, take his language. A man who can't talk, what do they call him? A dummy. Once your language is gone, you are a dummy. You can't communicate with people who are your relatives, you can never have access to information from your family—you just can't communicate.

Also, if you'll notice, the natural tongue that one speaks is referred to as one's mother tongue—mother tongue. And the natural intelligence that a person has before he goes to school is called mother wit. Not father wit—it's called mother wit because everything a child knows before it gets to school, it learns from its mother, not its father. And if it never goes to school, whatever native intelligence it has, it got it primarily from its mother, not its father; so it's called mother wit. And the mother is also the one who teaches the child how to speak its language, so that the natural tongue is called the mother tongue. Whenever you find as many people as we who aren't able to speak any mother tongue, why, that's evidence right there something was done to our mother. Something had to have happened to her.

They had laws in those days that made it mandatory for a Black child to be taken from its mother as fast as that child was born. The mother never had a chance to rear it. The child would be brought up somewhere else away from the mother, so that the mother couldn't teach the child what she knew—about itself, about her past, about its heritage. It would have to grow up in complete darkness, knowing nothing about the land where it came from or the people that it came from. Not even about its own mother. There was no relationship between the Black child and its mother; it was against the law. And if the master would ever find any of those children who had any knowledge of its mother tongue, that child was put to death. They had to stamp out the language; they did it scientifically. If they found any one of them that could speak it, off went its head, or they would put it to death, they would kill it, in front of the mother, if necessary. This is history; this is how they took your language. You didn't lose it, it didn't evaporate—they took it with a scientific process, because they knew they had to take it to make you dumb, or into the dummy that you and I now are.

I read in some books where it said that some of the slave mothers would try and get tricky. In order to teach their child, who'd be off in another field somewhere, they themselves would be praying and they'd pray in a loud voice, and in their own language. The child in the distant field would hear his mother's voice, and he'd learn how to pray in the same way; and in learning how to pray, he'd pick up on some of the language. And the master found that this was being done, and immediately he stepped up his efforts to kill all the little children that were benefiting from this. And so it became against the law even for the slave to be caught praying in his tongue, if he knew it. It was against the law. You've heard some of the people say they had to pray with their heads in a bucket. Well, they weren't praying to the Jesus that they're praying to now. The white man will let you call on that Jesus all day long; in fact he'll make it possible for you to call on him. If you were calling on somebody else, then he'd have more fear of it. Your calling on that somebody else in that other language—that causes him a bit of fear, a bit of fright.

They used to have to steal away and pray. All those songs that the slaves talked, or sang, and called spirituals, had wrapped up in them some of what was happening to them. And when the child realized that it couldn't hear its mother pray any more, the slaves would come up with a song, "I Couldn't Hear Nobody Pray," or the song "Motherless Child": "Sometimes, I feel like a motherless child. Father gone, mother gone, motherless child sees a hard time." All of these songs were describing what was happening to us then, in the only way the slaves knew how to communicate—in song. They didn't dare say it outright, so they put it in song. They pretended that they were singing about Moses in "Go Down, Moses." They weren't talking about Moses and telling "old Pharaoh to let my people go." They were trying to talk some kind of talk to each other, over the slave master's head. Now you've got ahold of the thing and you're believing in it for real. Yes, I hear you singing "Go down, Moses," and you're still talking about Moses four thousand years ago—you're out of your mind. But those slaves had a whole lot of sense. Everything they sang was designed toward freedom, designed toward going back home, or designed toward getting this big white ape off their backs.

Malcolm X

[oatmealaddiction]

I think a lot of people assume that if you read "smart" books - i.e. books that have a high word count and are dense and critically acclaimed - that will make you smart, and that's why there's so much of this snobby attitude towards people who find meaning in fanfiction and romance novels and children's media. You see a lot of these comparisons to food (which are also kind of fucked up for other reasons.) "You eat pizza, and I eat fillet mignon," etc. etc.

And it's funny because like, Anthony Bourdain didn't go "Oh this is the one healthy food you can eat that is good for you, and if you have a diet of only that, you will be healthy." Like nah dude, Anthony Bourdain would pull over and eat at random gas stations. He'd go eat with people in their kitchen in a foreign country. He'd sit down and roast bugs on the campfire with the same courtesy as if he were having lobster. He ate at fancy five star French restaurants, and street vendors in Malaysia. He ate lots of pizza, of all kinds, and compared it to other pizza's he had. I don't think he was a huge fan of Pizza Hut, but that doesn't mean he'd turn his nose up at a restaurant just for being a little dingy and selling comfort foods. In fact he gave some five star ratings to comfort food restaurants from poor neighborhoods that other chefs wouldn't have even thought to try. And on the way, he talked a lot about how much insight he'd gained from those experiences, because he wasn't just learning about food, but about the people who made the food. He learned their history, and their culture, and their language. He had curiosity and humility and interest in how strangers cooked, and their recipes, and the kinds of food they ate. Even if he didn't like the dish, he was still happy to learn about it. That's why he's remembered as such an amazing chef. If all you're getting out of food is "how many carbs are in it? is it raising my vitamin d levels," you're not getting very much out of food.

Same with art.

[sugarushwriting]

ot7 vampire — human blood bank

s2, p10

adult content featured

this may or may not be a sneak preview into a spinoff involving skz 😊

this is the last part! i had started writing a part 11 and last part but couldn’t figure it out so human blood bank, s2 ends here! — [not proof read]

you were in awe at this world around you. it’s almost like you’ve stepped into a new dimension. dark and gloomy, but inviting. castles lined up, feeling like an academy of some sort. like a boarding school.

you’ve been here a few hours, chan giving you a tour of the most important parts. jay annoyed behind him that your attention is all on chan and his clan.

you’ve seen the workout and defense trainings ran by leader of the guards and protectors, seo changbin. he was a buff guy and you couldn’t help but poke at his bicep. lee minho, vampire you have accustomed to, helps out with the classes as well.

you’ve seen the class led by lee felix, healer and fairy. he teaches medicine and support on how to help others that are hurt.

han jisung, werewolf, and kim seungmin, vampire, run a music class for fun. you’ve also learned they’re both part sirens which is why their voices are so entrancing.

hyunjin teaches fencing and classes involving weapons with chan at times.

“what about jeongin?” you asked.

“he just does whatever. makes sure the newbies stay out of trouble.”

“maybe ni-ki should’ve came here.” you said.

you, jay, and sunghoon followed chan up to the main castle. “is this your house?” you asked in awe.

“something like that. not my main, personal home. that, no one will see other than my inner circle.” chan explained

“why? have a torture chamber or something?” you snickered as a joke but chan turned to you with a straight face, then a smirk.

“maybe.”

you stood still as the three walked ahead of you. “coming sweetheart?” chan asked.

jay’s eyes were twitching. sunghoon was internally laughing knowing chan was teasing jay on purpose. jay wouldn’t dare try and fight chan. not with his inner 7 around him. heck, chan doesn’t even need assistance.

“where’s ni-ki, eunchae, and the others?”

“probably with jeongin creating mischief.” chan replied. “anyway, why don’t you come into my office.”

chan opened the door to a huge ass office, lined with books on books. “are these readable?”

“yes. but not fun to read.”

“what do you mean?” you asked curiously.

“it’s mainly history. century old history.”

“eh, i’ll find a way to enjoy it while you men figure out how to make sure i don’t die.” you said and frowned towards jay.

hours later, as the three discussed, you were engaged in the mountains of century old books. learning more about the mythical creatures that surround you. learning about hierarchy. learning in this world, things aren’t black and white, and almost everything has a consequence.

learning about bang chan. if he was destined to mate, where’s his love? you bit your lip, as you read on in the book hoping to find something.

your inner nosy self came about, and you decided to go to chan’s desk as the men were out trying to find a powerful witch or warlock. saying something about the most powerful was giselle with the aespa sisters. they left you behind so you wouldn’t run your energy down.

bingo. you found a journal. multiple actually. the most recent from 1912!? the earliest from 1827. fuck, how old is chan?

“he’s very old. and doesn’t like people meddling in his personal things.” you whipped around seeing seungmin.

“how’d you know—?”

“i can read your mind.” he smiled widely. “now put the journals back before he kills all of us.”

you swallowed but complied. “do you know about chan’s love life?” you began asking but seungmin turned around. you ended up following him.

“oh, the pup is following.” he sighed.

“please! i read alpha males could possibly die without a mate? what about chan? he gives alpha vibes but i have never seen him with someone.” you rattled off.

“that’s not my business to tell.”

“aw come on seungmin! you seem like the type that likes to gossip!”

“you have me incorrect.”

you stood in your spot and pouted. “please?”

“why don’t you just ask me if you’re so curious?” you heard chan speak from behind you.

there he stood with jay and sunghoon, with another woman with a hood up. she removed her hood, revealing her long dark hair.

she walked up to you, no words, and grabbed your hand, hers cold as ice. “she’s weakening. we don’t have anymore time.” the woman turned her head to the men behind her. “we’ll have to go against the ritual and moon. beg for forgiveness.”

“you heard her!” sunghoon snapped. “you’ll be begging on your knees for forgiveness dumbass!” sunghoon snarked to jay.

“chan, do you have an empty space we won’t be bothered? possibly an atreum?” chan nodded. “great, i will beckon giselle, winter, and karina to come quick. gather felix and have him come as well.”

“who are you?” you asked, wondering who was this woman with ice cold hands.

“im ning-ning.”

you paced in the office of chan’s as you waited for the girls—witches—to finish setting up.

you did feel weaker. you felt as if you were losing a part of yourself.

“if you keep pacing, you’ll weaken yourself even more.” chan sighed.

you stopped, turned to him, and asked, “what happened to your love? your mate, if you all still call them that?”

chan’s heart sped thinking about his past lover. it still hurt, even centuries later. “she was killed by an enemy. a hunter.”

you took in a deep breath. “oh my goodness, chan—,”

he nodded. “yeah, it still hurts, but im okay.”

“everyone deserves a second chance at love! have you tried? what do you do when you know—you get the itch you need to scratch?”

chan chuckled. “i have a hand.”

“oh, well, uh,”

“and i will have a second chance. she may have passed on, but im just waiting for her to come back to me.”

“come back as in?”

“yes reincarnation.”

you smiled, but just then, your hand went to clutch your chest in staggering pain. a quick frown came on your lips. you heard voices around you but couldn’t make them out or what they were saying. some voices even seem distant. like not on this earth.

suddenly, you started coughing up blood uncontrollably, falling to your knees on the ground.

again, deep screams came from around you. panic. crying. yelling. footsteps. your vision became blurry. white. you couldn’t see anything.

maybe you screamed. you at least tried to, anyway. your neck burned. the mark burned. your whole body felt on fire.

“please. please. please.” you mumbled out. you didn’t want to die. you didn’t want to forget your boys.

“43 fucking hours!” jay yelled, throwing a glass cup, full of whiskey at the wall. “she hasn’t woken up in 43 hours!”

“all because of you.” ni-ki snickered.

“would you relax? the good thing she isn’t dead! the aespa sisters and felix are keeping a close eye on her.” sunghoon stated.

“fuck!” jay tugged at his hair.

all 7 of your boys were gathered in chan’s office, talking about what happened. your body got so weak, you had less time than anticipated. they had rushed you to the atreum where the aespa sisters had candles, herbs, and other things sitting around your body. hoping the earth, moon, would heal you. forgive jay for his sins against authority.

sunghoon was right. you weren’t dead, but you weren’t exactly alive either. you were in the in between. it was up to you, your soul, your ancestors to choose the path you either continue to take or change.

“what if she becomes a hunter?” sunoo spoke up.

“oh please she can barely stand up right, let alone try to kill one of us.” ni-ki teased. he was trying to ease the tension of everyone. they understood where he was coming from, but it was hard.

“why don’t you all go to the dining hall and find some food? something other than blood.” minho suggested. “all of you.” he narrowed his eyes at jay and sunghoon.

“sitting here worrying isn’t going to make the situation any better.” seungmin added in. “let’s go, i’ll take you where we eat.”

reluctantly all 7 of them followed seungmin and minho, leaving chan behind with changbin and hyunjin.

just as the boys left, giselle came into the room. “she’s alert, but confused.”

“her path?”

“still unclear, but looks like she won’t be a hunter.”

“could she become a witch?” changbin asked, cracking his knuckles.

giselle sighed. “still unclear.”

karina came beside giselle and they shared a look.

“what?” chan asked.

“we think it’ll be best for the ultimate vampire to try and feed her his blood.”

“you mean me?” chan asked with a squeak and pointed to himself. jay would not go for that.

karina added, “you would be the last resort, yes. but we were thinking of starting out with ni-ki. he is a special vampire. their bond is different than hers with the other guys.”

hyunjin asked nervously, “would she be turned into a vampire? i know her bloodline may prevent her from, but could that be so twice in a row?”

giselle then added, “we don’t know, but it’s best we try.”

chan through his mind asked jeongin to bring ni-ki back to the main castle as soon as possible and to not alert any of the others. chan could trust jeongin will make up an excuse of wanting to play a prank.

in no time, jeongin and ni-ki arrived back at the main castle, and was told of the witches plans.

ni-ki hesitated, but would do anything to protect you. he found the four witches and felix surrounding you in the atreum, chan and his guys right outside the door.

felix handed ni-ki a sharp knife, as winter talked ni-ki through feeding you.

with ease, he cut himself, and held his forearm against your lips as his blood dripped into your mouth. since you weren’t be turned, you didn’t latch on like most would.

your eyes fluttered open, turning red for a quick second before they went back to normal. ni-ki removed his forearm, felix immediately tending to you.

suddenly you got the most painful headache, grabbing your forehead. ni-ki felt the same. “fuck!”

“now your imprint with ni-ki has saved you.”

ni-ki and you whipped your head to the witches. “im—imprint?” you stuttered out.

ni-ki looked at you in disgust. you looked back at him with equal disgust.

“remove that look off your face, you turd!”

“im fucking imprinted with her?” ni-ki asked in disbelief. the girls and felix exchanged looks then laughs. “i want a redo.”

“it was either imprinting with ni-ki or chan.” winter explained.

“i would’ve rather taken my chances imprinting with chan!”

after your strength came back within a few minutes, you all walked out to the big room where chan, jeongin, hyunjin, and changbin waited.

“wait until jay finds out i imprinted with you.” ni-ki sighed. little did he know, they had just walked through the door.

“you did what!” jay yelled. the mark on your neck was healed and gone, yet your smell was still strong of jay’s clan.

“i just saved your human blood bank, you’re welcome!” ni-ki said.

chan explained that the imprint between you and ni-ki were out of protection not romantic feelings. chan had also explained with this, senses are heightened even more.

“you mean—,”

you groaned, “don’t tell me this fucker will be able to hear me doing the dirty!”

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/royal-family/2025/01/04/early-royal-family-photo-albums-display/

Article text below the jump.

King George V mowing the lawn among early Royal family photos to go on display for first time

Thirty-three of Queen Mary’s photo albums currently being conserved document official engagements, royal tours and private family gatherings

Hannah Furness, 4 January 2025

Personal photograph albums belonging to Elizabeth II’s grandmother and containing thousands of pictures of the Royal family are to be seen in full by the public for the first time, including a shot of George V mowing the lawn in a top hat.

The pictures, pasted in 33 albums by Queen Mary herself, are being conserved and digitised by the Royal Collection Trust (RCT), with the vast majority of the 12,000 photographs to be seen by the general public for the first time.

They include early photographs of the Royal family in their leisure time, detailing the childhoods of the boys who would grow up to become Edward VIII and George VI, as well as the key moments Queen Mary wanted to save for the history books.

One image, taken in 1895 while Queen Victoria was still on the throne, shows the future Queen Alexandra holding her baby grandson, the future King Edward VIII, who reaches up to grab the hat of his father – the future George V – while his mother, the future Queen Mary, watches on.

Another extraordinary picture, which was shared on social media during the research project and will form part of the final digitised collection, shows George V mowing the lawn at Adelaide Cottage, the current home of the Prince and Princess of Wales and their children.

Queen Mary wrote a caption next to it: “G. in tall hat!”.

Other photographs include Queen Mary’s first ride in a motor car, early family holiday photos at Balmoral, and some of the first-ever royal tour photos.

In one photo, Queen Mary – then the Duchess of Cornwall and York – is captured up a mountain looking down the river in Banff, Alberta, during the Dominions tour in 1901, which saw the King and Queen travel 7000 miles from east to west via the Canadian Pacific Railway. 

In another, Queen Mary, formally dressed in the heavy corset and hat with which she is associated with, visited wounded soldiers during the First World War, and the troops of the Queen Mary’s Women Auxiliary Corps in 1918.

Other shots show the family away from public duties in Sandringham, Aberdeenshire and Windsor.

Many of the informal pictures were taken by members of the Royal family themselves, while others have been cut from press photography or official palace photoshoots.

All were personally arranged and captioned by Queen Mary herself, between 1880 and 1952.

The 33 albums are said by the RCT to “provide a visual narrative of her life, documenting everything from official engagements and royal tours to private family gatherings”.

They are held in the historic photographs collection – part of the Royal Collection – at Windsor Castle.

Many have never been seen by the public before, while a small proportion were published in a 1989 book.

They are currently undergoing conservation treatment, which began in 2019 before being paused during the Covid-19 pandemic, to allow them to be safely handled so that they can be digitised, researched and displayed in future.

Experts from the Royal Bindery and Paper Conservation teams are cleaning and repairing the albums’ paper and binding, as well as treating the photographs that need greater preservation.

Before this, only around 200 of the pictures could be searched for individually on the RCT’s website.

The full pages, including contemporary annotations, can now be seen online, with 26 of the 33 albums already available and the remaining seven to come.

The RCT has described them as a mix of “snapshots”, taken by amateurs, family and friends, including members of the Royal family, images taken by professional and studio photographers and press photographs which were often collected by Queen Mary’s staff after engagements.

[hugherin]

I CAN SEE THE END AS IT BEGINS.

when zaya decides to spend her vacation in Davos to escape from reality, but ends up crossing paths with Nico Hischier, who has the same goal. pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4.

pairing: nico hischier x reader

warnings: none <3

With the end of the university period, the first thing that crossed your mind was: vacation. A well-deserved vacation. Spending the summer in Davos to escape the chaos of the big city and the problems that insisted on following you was everything you could ask for if a genie in a bottle asked. You just wanted tranquility, hikes through the Alps, and time to reorganize your mind. Thus, you decided to embark on the trip alone, without any friends. It had been a while since you decided to be more independent, considering you had spent your whole life under the watchful eye of your parents or even relying on the opinions of your friends, no matter how cool they were.

It was through this decision that you found yourself in a small town in Switzerland. A cold place, with no familiar faces bringing past problems, and the best part: no academic activities.

Everything seemed perfect: your cappuccino at the perfect temperature, your gloves finally warming your hands, an amazing book on the table (an autobiography of your favorite artist about how to deal with adult life without going crazy). The snow falling and contrasting with the sun made everything even more fantastic.

Until your attention, focused on the tranquility of the trip, shifted to the man who had just entered.

Nico Hischier — a face you recognized from one of the sports tabloids your dad watched, but who seemed much more human under the soft light of the Swiss summer. You took another sip of your cappuccino, observing the harmony of his face. Usually, you didn’t tend to observe people like that, especially men.

Given your history, you couldn’t say you had made the most of your adolescence or even the early years of university, having only gone out with one person. It didn’t last as long as you would have liked, but two years were enough for you to understand that sometimes, trusting destiny is the best way to avoid problems for yourself.

Nico was also wearing gloves like you, a very thick navy blue jacket, and a black beanie, which matched his rosy skin tone — probably due to the cold.

He discreetly made his order and then seemed to bend down to pick up a thin rectangular piece of paper. Looking around the café and noticing that, among the few people, you were the only one with a book on the table, he quickly assumed it was yours, walking over to you.

“I think this is yours.” he handed you the flowery bookmark, making you look up, somewhat surprised.

“Oh, thank you. I'm not usually this clumsy."

“Well, at least you didn’t spill the coffee too. That would’ve been a complete disaster.” His comment brought a small smile to your lips.

“Considering my luck, it’s a very likely scenario.” you crossed your legs. He glanced briefly at the book’s cover, seemingly trying to remember something.

“This book is my sister’s favorite. She’s obsessed with this artist." he said, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Really? She’s amazing. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but she’s extremely intense.”

“My sister said something like that too. Something about how she talks about life’s flaws being different. More real. Is it really that interesting?” You were genuinely impressed by the genuine interest.

Honestly, you didn’t hate men. But seeing one interested in an artist’s autobiography was surprising. They do say that men with sisters have a real heart.

“Definitely! She doesn’t try to seem perfect. It feels like you’re on a therapist’s couch hearing the best life advice.”

“That sounds like something that keeps you hooked. My sister even tried to convince me to read it so she would have someone to talk about it with, but honestly, I didn’t make it past the cover.” He said, and you quickly looked at the book cover. It was half of the woman’s face, with her blue eyes staring at the reader. Honestly, it didn’t look that attractive.

“Well, if you change your mind, I can lend it to you once I’m done.”

“I’ll consider it. She will be thrilled; I think she’d kiss your feet for convincing me.”

“If that happens, we could start a book club to discuss it.” you said, with a complete sense of humor.

He laughs in response, and you can’t help but notice how his eyes also close.

“Deal. Just don’t let the bookmark fall again. Maybe I won’t be quick enough to save you.”

Maybe? So he’s from here? — you thought.

His name is called by the barista at the counter. He quickly waves goodbye, grabs his drink, and leaves the café.

You wouldn’t exactly consider yourself a friendly person, it wasn’t for a bad reason — it was just in your blood. With Nico, it felt like you had known each other for decades.

Intrigued, you kept drinking your coffee and opened the book, resuming your reading.

The day was clear, with the sun shining brightly in the blue sky, but the cool breeze from the Alps softened the heat, making it the perfect weather for a walk. The trail wound through tall, sturdy trees, creating small tunnels of shade along the path. Further ahead, open fields revealed a sea of wildflowers in shades of yellow and white, gently swaying with the wind. It was truly paradise.

The sound of rustling leaves and distant bird songs echoed in the air, interrupted only by the occasional snap of twigs beneath your feet. The fresh scent of earth and pine was comforting, filling your lungs with every deep breath.

The view widened as you climbed the trail. Snow-covered mountains appeared on the horizon, contrasting with the intense green of the vegetation around. In the distance, a small lake sparkled under the sunlight, looking like a natural mirror.

You then pulled out your phone to take a photo. It was almost impossible to leave without wanting to capture a piece of this to remember when you were gone.

livelyzaya has made a new post.

liked by mayalively, ceciadams and 53 others.

livelyzaya: just fantastic.

ceciadams: what a beautiful view, i miss you :(

mayalively: glad you're having fun, sweetie! take care. <3

You were so immersed in the beauty around you that you almost didn’t notice the sound of footsteps coming behind you, firm and rhythmic, until a familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“I thought I’d be the only one here today. Looks like we underestimated Davos." Nico said, smiling. He wasn’t wearing a beanie this time, just his loose hair — it seemed recently cut but still maintained a slightly long appearance — a red jacket, and a hiking backpack.

“And it seems you have a talent for showing up in the right places." you said, smiling. It wasn’t flirting; it was genuinely curious to find him in the café and then, a few days later, in a completely different place.

“Or maybe I’m just following you." he said, smiling, quickly shutting down when he noticed you didn’t smile back. A woman alone, in the middle of nowhere and out of her home country; what could go wrong, right? “I’m just kidding.” he added, looking worried.

“I thought I’d have a peaceful day. Now, unfortunately, I’ll have to share the view." you said, humorously.

Nico made a dramatic gesture, typical of a royal court member, clearing the way for you to go ahead.

“I promise I won’t disturb you. I’m great at silence, if you prefer." you raised an eyebrow in response.

“I don’t know if I believe that, but you can join me. Just hope you’re not terrible at uphill walks.”

Nico gave you a look of extreme indignation. You had completely forgotten he was the captain of a team in a sport that demands extreme physical conditioning.

“Terrible at uphill walks? I play ice hockey. Uphills aren’t a problem for me.” you smiled, walking ahead and starting the climb.

“That’s what we’ll find out.”

After a few minutes of walking in silence, Nico pointed to your backpack, correctly guessing you were carrying the book you’d talked about last time.

“Did you finish the book, or is it still dragging on?”

You laughed, a mix of humor and exhaustion. Unlike Nico, although you enjoyed hiking and walks, you handled scalpels and medicine much better than methods of how-to-climb-a-mountain-without-having-a-heart-attack.

“Almost done. I’m just postponing it because I don’t want it to end. But I know I’ll reread it, so it’s not that bad.” Nico looked at you with a curious gaze, still walking behind you.

“Do you always reread books you like?”

The question made you thoughtful, showing in your expression as you tried to remember how many times you had done that (many).

“If they’re good enough to leave a mark, yes. I think some stories deserve to be revisited.” Nico slowly nodded.

“That makes sense. I think I do that with some memories, instead of books.”

“Good analogy. Too bad some memories aren’t as kind as books.” Nico paused briefly and stared at the horizon behind him. It was beautiful.

“Yeah, but sometimes you don’t have a choice. They stay there, even if you don’t want them.”

Whoa. Deep. You quickly tried to break the mood.

“Maybe you should write about that. Who knows, an autobiography to rival your sister’s favorite.”

Nico laughed, eyes closed, going back to walking behind you.

“I don’t think I’m that interesting. But if I need a co-author, I’ll let you know.”

When you reached the top, you were speechless. You were absolutely amazed by what the view offered.

“You were right. This view is amazing. I can’t believe we’re the only ones seeing this right now.” you said, out of breath but enchanted.

“I told you it was incredible. This is real.” Nico said, smiling at you instead of at the landscape. His act made you feel a small shiver down your spine, but the cold made you doubt the reason why.

You shared a moment of silence, with the soft breeze of the Alps around you. For the first time in a long time, you felt that the present was stronger than any memory or worry.

"We've been talking all this time and I don't even know your name." You make an offended expression.

"Wow, what a gentleman. First you invade my trail, and only now do you notice that?" you say, placing your hand on your chest dramatically and with a tone of indignation. Nico laughs and defends himself.

"Technically, you invaded my trail. I was just polite enough to follow." you shrug. That seems fair.

"Good point. I'm Zaya."

"Zaya." Nico repeats your name, as if he likes the way it sounds. "It suits you. My name is Nico." he says innocently.

"I know who you are." You let out a small laugh, noticing his slightly confused expression, but still seeming to enjoy the situation.

"Oh, so you knew who I was? Are you a stalker or something?" he says, making you laugh again.

"My dad is a huge hockey fan. I think he knows more about the New Jersey Devils than about me." you say.

"And you?" Nico looks at you with a curious gaze.

"I hate hockey." you say with a more serious expression, while Nico quickly makes an offended face, this time looking real.

"Hate it? Is this personal? Seems offensive. How can someone hate the greatest sport in the world?"

Nico still keeps the offended expression, but can't hide the corner-of-the-mouth smile that appears as soon as he realizes you're joking.

"I just don’t get the fascination for a sport where people push each other on ice and hit each other with sticks."

"Hockey is much more than that. You should try it."

"Skating?" you shake your head, seeing the offer as something totally unacceptable. "No, thanks. I could never keep my balance on asphalt, let alone on ice."

Nico laughs because he actually finds it funny, but changes the tone of the conversation to something genuine.

"That's all you need. I can teach you. Believe me, you're going to love it."

"Teach?" you look at him with suspicion, but with your eyes still sparkling with possibility. "Not convinced." Nico shrugs confidently.

"Well, since you don’t like it, maybe I have to show you what you're missing. How about a bet?"

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by what could come next. "A bet? On what?"

Nico gets closer, you could swear you've seen that challenging expression on the ice during the games your dad begged you to watch with him on holidays.

"You’ve never learned to skate, right? We can try. If you like it, promise me you'll at least try to watch a game, but if you don’t like it, you’ll join me on one of the hardest trails in Davos. What do you think?" he says, crossing his arms.

"Sounds tempting..." you say, with an ironic tone.

"I'm serious. Just one day. I won’t pressure you to fall in love with the sport. If you still hate it afterward, I’ll read the autobiography."

You’ve always been the most competitive kid at school, and to be honest, that hadn’t changed in adulthood. A challenge? It was like Nico was swimming in a sea of sharks, and you were the hungriest shark in the school. You look around, as if contemplating, before finally giving in.

"Okay, you’ve convinced me. But if I don’t like it, besides reading the autobiography, you’ll have to join me on a trail harder than anything you've done before."

"Deal." Nico says with a big smile. "I’m not going to miss this."

"Just don’t ask me to become a fan of the Devils. I’m still not on that team." Nico laughs at your audacity.

"Talking like that to the team captain is crazy. We’ll see how you do on the ice. If you don’t fall, I’ll put you in to replace Jack Hughes." You smile at the thought of a possible new job.

Still talking about the amazing view, you both start heading back to the flatland. Nico mentions the city’s frozen lake, setting the "private lesson" for tomorrow at 3 pm.

Arriving at your initial destination, the sun is lower now, painting the sky with golden and orange hues. The soft sound of footsteps on the freshly melted snow blends with the light breeze that continues to caress the trees. You walk side by side, the conversation now more laid-back, as Nico talks a bit about what it’s like to deal with hockey and the crazy pressure placed on athletes of the sport.

When you part ways, you feel that, despite the teasing, there’s something more peaceful and sincere between you two now. The fresh mountain air and the sound of nature around you reinforce the feeling that maybe that summer in Davos could be more than just a random encounter.

[awkward-fink]

Headcanon favorites of Fink / Geeky Version

Price -> Price loves gameshows. Doesn’t matter if it’s Family Feud, Trivial Pursuit or any other game shows. He will sit his ass down on his couch, get a good meal ready, get some nice drink sat right beside him, feet up on the couch table and then it’s go time. He can only indulge this little hobby of his when he is at home, but he loves this time, nonetheless. He can relax while answering questions, his mind calming down again as he must cycle through different categories of questions, logic to math to arts to history and back and forth again. That man has a knowledge base of facts and trivia that’s scary sometimes. But it is mostly facts that he will never have a use for in the real-life situation he finds himself in. (Or so he thinks. Until he is lost in the wilds with a painful injury and remembers that the bark of a willow can helps with infection, fever and pain.)

Gaz -> He doesn’t want anyone to know, but in school, when he was around 15 and his sisters 16 and 17, they had a small Dungeons and Dragons Group going. A few of their friends, his sisters and himself had biweekly meetings to play, spending whole afternoons until late at night solving the Dungeon Masters riddles and quests. One campaign lasted for over 3 years, and he still remembers fondly his Half-Elven Knight Leofrid, the Gallant. His old books and his character are still safely stored away at his mother’s house, right beside his small figurine his sisters got him from a specialty score once. Some days he dreams of starting again, missing the carefree laughter and the humor-filled adventures he had once upon a time.

Ghost -> He loves working with his hands. Always had and always will. It is calming to him, his thoughts having to focus on something other than knives or his guns and rifles. His hobby with this is his Tabletop figurine collection. He doesn’t have a faction army or anything the like, doesn’t want to play the game with others. He loves to build the small things with painstaking patience, part for part cleaned and washed and glued together to finally become a small character. It had all started with his neighbor’s trash when he was younger and going around the block with Tommy, the big box of figures and monsters sticking out of the trash. And for them, who had never had something like this, it was precious. And so, he builds them even today, and thinks about color schemes, painting them just how he likes them before he goes to a store to get another one and start again.

Soap -> Johnny MacTavish has learned early on that he had a knack for the arts, drawing and sketching his absolute pleasure. It started simply, with flowers and vases and his cat and then his sisters’ dolls. It all went into even more detail from there. Year after year he got better and looked for more detailed objects to sketch. And as he turned 14, he finally found the ultimate challenge. The fandoms of his favorite books, online, in need of sketches and drawings. And Johnny was hooked. The Hobbit had been his favorite children’s book when his father still read to him. And Johnny fed the fandom, online in one of the first webpages for things like this. Bilbo, Thorin, the trolls, the ponies, the elves... and then even more provocative sketches, more skin, more -! Needless to say after his mother found THAT sketchbook, Johnny hid the poor book very far away from his ma and tried his hand at other things again. Glass vases and faces of his most loved people...

Roach -> Gary Roach Sanderson is always looking for something. He is looking for Booster Packs for Pokémon. Since he was little the loyal little pocket monsters had conquered his heart and his whole family fed into that hobby gladly, helping the quiet boy, happy that he finally showed interest in a hobby. They bought him his first binder and his first whole box of boosters. They sat with him as Gary opened one booster after the other, his grin widening with every new Mon he pulled and could file into his collection. And with the first Art Rare he pulled, he was deeply hooked on the hobby. And even now, as an adult, he is always on the lookout for new cards, new boosters. He has at least 6 binders at home, partially filled collections he is trying to finish. He is still looking for the Umbreon Art Rare. @loveergirll i actually had that already in the works when your ask came in, hope you have fun reading some more after my answer to your ask this morning (for me)

@seeking-the-sunrise like I promised^^

[skyfallscotland]

i saw you debunk the truth sayer theory, i’m curious to see what you think her second signet is then👀👀

Hooo, boy! Here we go...spoilers for Onyx Storm below the cut.

I think her second signet is one of two things, and the most likely option (I think) is kind of boring, and Rebecca's previously said she thinks we're going to be disappointed, so that tracks. I think she's going to make her an inntinnsic.

It was made very clear to us in Iron Flame that what Violet needs most is information. Look at these two lines side by side:

Xaden’s most pressing need is information.

(from when she figures out his second signet), and right before that, Violet says this about herself:

"I am a person who needs information to center myself.”

See the duality of this? The duality of them? Light and dark, they're mirrors of each other in the most cliché way, and I think that extends to their second signets.

I think this could also be backed up by one of the first epigraphs from Onyx Storm, leaked the other day:

The rarest signets, which appear once per generation or century, have been documented twice simultaneously with an equal counterpart, both during critical times in our history.

As much as I'm not stoked with this, I see it as being the most likely option.

If it were to be more fun though, my first thought and gut instinct when I originally read Iron Flame was soothsayer, in that her dreams were clearly prophetic—or the General was in her head.

“And the longest night has yet to pass.”

These were not just nightmares. I know a lot of people think she's seeing Xaden's dreams, but she isn't. Xaden is told he'll turn for love, and he did. Violet is told she'll tear down the wards for love when the time comes, and I think she will, we just haven't seen it yet.

It's also clearly (who we assume is) General Daramor in both their dreams and not Naolin, to debunk a second theory. He literally says he's lived centuries. Naolin died six years ago. (And Tairn does say he died specifically, it's Brennan who waffles about it).

So again, for lack of evidence so far that the venin can be in their heads from a great distance, through wards even, I'm going to assume it could have something to do with Violet.

Plus, signets are a chemistry between dragon and rider and Andarna's feathertail gift was time manipulation, and Andarna herself supposedly has seen the future.

"—and I knew. You would have the mind of a scribe and the heart of a rider. You would be mine.” She leans into my hand. “You are as unique as I am. We want the same things.” “You couldn’t have known I would be a rider.” “And yet, here we are.”

I think both of these are more likely than truth-sayer, given that Violet admits she never asked questions because she didn't want the answers, she didn't want to know those particular truths. Honestly, I don't have a solid, solid theory, I just think personally, based on the book I read, if Violet is a truth sayer, it will bomb her characterisation entirely.

Anyway, that's it! I could be proven wrong in two weeks and I'll cop it on the chin. (I won't, I'll throw the book across the room). xx

[joltai-showa]

Exhausting day, so let's yap about something fun.

I've seen a post floating around that went something like "imagine Naruto releasing now, Akatsuki gang would be called woke" and I wanna take this concept another step further and talk about how generally these S-rank criminals are surprisingly tolerating of each other.

(though side point nothing will ever help these men and Konan beat the fruity friend group allegations, like they are wearing matching coats that are TERRIBLY impractical when you are working as, you know, a fucking ASSASSIN. and the nail polish? can anybody explain how that idea came about? like, I guess it's not surprising that members like Konan and Deidara aka Ms. and Mr. Insane Make Up Game of the Terrorist World would paint their nails, but why is Nagato sitting Pain's bodies down for a manicure? The local 195 cm tall fishman agreeing to a pedicure? Why the fuck is Uchiha "killing readers with boredom that I evoke with my 13 hour long yapping about despair and hopelessness" Obito still doing his pedicure in KAGE SUMMIT ARC? BRO, LET GO OF THEM, YOUR BESTIES AREN'T COMING BACK, YOU SENT THEM ALL TO THEIR DEATHS, YOU PIECE OF SHIT, EVERYONE IS 15 SECONDS AWAY FROM MURDERING EACH OTHER, WHY ARE YOU PAINTING THE NAILS ON THE ARM YOU ARE ABOUT TO ATTACH??? omg🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄)

Because I am a lore nerd, I am completely fascinated by the sheer difference between the members. And I speak both of the age and the geographic differences, which, realistically, should create some absolutely wild scenarios between the members.

So let's start by separating the gang by age, because they've actually got three pretty definitive clusters in their group when we look at them from that particular parameter.

Kakuzu is in his own subgroup, being *checks notes* jesus christ 91. Kakuzu is actually older than the village system itself (Kishimoto can't count, so it was either founded 60 or 80 years before the events of Shippuden, and either way Kakuzu spawned in this world on hardcore difficulty way before the clans in Land of Fire decided to stop terrorizing each other and chose to terrorize everyone around them). Mind you, the characters from the major Hidden Villages that were constantly joked about as being these ancient fossils and those who have seen the dawn of fucking civilizations were people like Chiyo (73 years old in Shippuden) and Onoki (79 years old). And. Like. Shinobi generally don't live that long even in the villages where they can live in relative protection and have an opportunity for retirement. Kakuzu's out there collecting his retirement fund from any unlucky motherfucker who gets his face plastered into a Bingo book or something. And he was probably doing that even before becoming a member of Akatsuki. Which. Lmao.

And considering the fact that he was in some sort of fighting age whenever fucking Hashirama was still alive, Akatsuki's old man is likely actually written in the history books that they read in the hidden villages (do kids even learn how to read? I'm pretty sure the villages value kunai throwing more than reading huh). Or at least in the history books of nukenins. Wait, scratch that, he is probably one of the people who is the reason behind a lot of the operating procedures that the villages have whenever you got a deserter or a general terrorist running through you territory. What I'm saying is, the guys from the major villages (meaning Sasori, Deidara, Obito, Kisame and Itachi) have probably known of Kakuzu just off the stories they read in the Academy/heard from older shinobi. I'm not mentioning the guys from minor villages because I am not giving them enough benefit of the doubt to have something like a decent system of education or ninja living past 30😁. I imagine that must be quite the bizarre experience to abandon your village, become a nukenin and meet the OG guy. Like, as OG as they get.

And one last thing I wanted to point out before moving onto the next generation of our fruity terrorist is how weird it must have been for Deidara to meet Kakuzu for the first time? I don't mention the other two from Akatsuki's kids aka Hidan about whom we don't know much about and Itachi who's relationship with old men in his life can be summarized by "they exploit me, I try to get the best things out of this🙂", but Deidara, being Onoki's student, in canon is shown to constantly refer to him as "old man" in various degrees of insultingness (insert a meme about 18 year old Kurotsuchi's broke "maybe you should retire, old man" vs 10 year old Deidara's woke "KILL YOURSELF OLD MAN" *some bridge in Iwa fucking explodes*) and like. He's like 13. And gets to meet Kakuzu. Who is like 85 at the time. Just imagine the experience that Deidara got. He's been hating the old man as long as he remembers, and then gets to meet THAT. Local teenager meets an actual dinosaur moment.

So know we get to the second generational group and it's by far the biggest one in this pretty small organization, and I like to title them "the ones that were born some time around the Second Shinobi World War and got completely fucked over by the Third one😁". This group, obviously, includes Konan and Nagato (both 40 in Shippuden), Sasori (35), Kisame (32) and Obito (yeah yeah I remember that he's been stated to be like 31, but for timeline purposes I prefer to have him at around 30, because otherwise like twenty events get funky). The Second Shinobi World War can only be approximately estimated, but given what little is known of about the characters involved in it, Ame orphans' year of birth is a pretty good estimate of a starting point for shit starting to go down, while Konoha suddenly started having a lot of kids right around the time of Kakashi's generation, meaning that their parents suddenly started having a lot of time to procreate and did not have to run across the border to beat shit out of someone else🤭Either that, or Konoha got the money to pay the shinobi for every kid they manage to pop in the next five years lol.

Anyway, the Third war followed pretty soon (around 18 years after Ame trio's birth, actually), and we certainly know that Obito got pulled into it (because of the, you know, the successful pancake challenge) with Konan and Nagato too, but on Ame's side (the Third War would actually be the best and prime time for the original Akatsuki led by Yahiko to operate, as they would be both old enough to organize something and be strong enough to maneuver between Hanzo and the external enemies aka Konoha, Iwa and Suna). With Sasori it isn't exactly confirmed straight away, but considering that his nickname is "Scorpion of Red SANDS", and when you are a nukenin why would you stay in the desert where there's a lot of sand it's coarse and it gets everywhere in your puppets (c), so most likely Sasori would have gotten this nickname while he was still living in the village, and mind you he was 15 when he left the village with the dead Third Kazekage in tow, all of which would have taken place right around the middle of the Third War, so it isn't much of a stretch to assume that he got a good chunk of murder experience during it.

Kisame is a weird one, because we don't know anything about his life until he's like, adultish? At least that's the vibe I'm getting off his pre-death memories, which are obviously way past the Third Shinobi World War, however, thankfully, Kishimoto can't fucking count, so we have a pretty decent confirmation that this wonderful thing called the Blood Mist would already be in place come Kisame's childhood and youth (regardless of how much Kishimoto repeats the Blood Mist = Fourth Mizukage = the mysterious entity controlling Yagura = the one and only Uchiha Obito. unless, of course, there's a Kamui+ subscription that Obito had when he was younger that allowed him to teleport back in time too, exclusively to be a bigger fucking bitch to everyone). I can't remember the exact calcs, but it's actually thanks to Mei (the Fifth Mizukage) that has a mention that she had to take the wonderful murder exam as a genin, and based off Mei's and Kisame's ages it actually becomes clear that Kisame would have had to graduate from Academy right around the time of Mei's exam or they were literally taking the same exam, something like that. Point being, even if we don't know for sure that Kisame took part in the TSWW, but we do know that he has had to deal with all of that mess related to growing up in Blood Mist🙂🙂🙂🙂So I guess we can call this generation "were born during the SSWW, most got royally fucked over by TSWW, but some of them also got fucked over by Blood Mist".

So these guys, I would say, can be characterised by them having a certain period of peace and purpose in their lifes that they ultimately lost during the subsequent wars, oftentimes suddenly, leaving them with psychological traumas for the rest of their lives that they WOULD make everyone's problem, so what ends up happening is a generation of deluloids that are running around with their grand plans of fixing the world or finding the ideal form of themselves. Ironically, I would say that Nagato and Konan have the most... er... realistic ideas regarding the whole "fixing" thing that others in their generation seem to have. Yes, the guys who say they are a God and an Angel. Because selective nuclear annihilation is a surprisingly effective way to dissuade most people from starting shit with each other😇🙏

Then we have Obito and Kisame both of whom worked for the whole Eye of the Moon thing... I'm not even gonna go in detail about it, it's just so fucking stupid. You listen to it one time and it really becomes apparent that this shit was concocted by a crazy old man with his ex's face on his tiddy and his dead little brother's eyes in his eye sockets that was living in a dank cave for about 50 years all alone. I mean, Obito got brain damage from going on a field trip to Kannabi bridge, I'm not surprised he though that was a good idea, but Kisame has no excuses, yeah, I know you've lived a horrible life that you took as a norm and suddenly all those deaths that you witnessed and contributed to turned out to be completely meaningless, just like pretty much your entire life, but that's not an excuse to listen to this masked dude's yapping about making a PowerPoint Presentation of his Sharingan on the surface of the fucking moon and go "Woah...😳🤩"

And finally we have Sasori, who's less bothered by doing the whole changing the world thing and moreso got his own idea of what an absolute ideal form is supposed to be, and he is going full murder hobo achieving it in his immediate surrondings. And it all stems from that time when his parents died after meeting Hatake Sakumo. Ah, speaking of that.

So back to the original topic of this post as in Akatsuki members are surprisingly chill with each other, regardless of the circumstances of their previous lives? Well, there's a thing with these guys that Kakuzu wouldn't have - a sort of developed sense of loyalty to the village and animosity or coldness to people from the enemy villages. Again, Kakuzu is older than the village system itself, and he would have left pretty early on (considering the whole fiasco seemed to have stemmed from that attempt on Hashirama's life, and Hashirama couldn't have lived past 20-25 years after Konoha's foundation), so he doesn't care for any of that, a guy with a bouty on his head goes into the retirement fund regardless of what headband he's wearing. But for kids that grew up in this system I think it would be at times pretty jarring to suddenly sit on the work meetings with someone they would have considered their mortal enemy just some years ago.

We don't know much about with whom in particular Sasori and Kisame were fighting while in the villages, but taking a look at the geography... I mean, Suna might have been going at it with both Iwa and Konoha lol? Imagine Pain asking Sasori what does he know of Iwa ninja, Sasori goes on to list all the squads he murder and dismembered back in the good old Third War days and then the boss hits him with "Yeah, yeah, anyway, we are getting you a new partner. It's a child from Iwa. He's now yours. Raise him and don't let him kill himself before he turns 18."

Or just Kisame and Sasori generally dealing with the existence of Konoha lmao? Obito's obviously not piping up about his origins, but I like the idea of Itachi getting interrogated on what he knows about Kakashi in particular (who is the son of the guy who killed Sasori's parents. and granny Chiyo went for his throat on fucking sight. not to mention her mass murdering grandsonny).

"Itachi, do you know this Hatake guy?"

"Er, yes, we served in ANBU together?.."

"Good. Tell me where he lives, at what time does he go to bed, what he eats for breakfast and how is he with his Sharingan."

Or just chatting with Kisame and the topic of Kakashi pops up

"Oh, I would love to fight him one day. Is he really that bloodthirsty and insane as they say?"

"Er, no, what gives?"

"He has been in Kirigakure's Bingo Book for years! Oh, and there was this one time when he massacred an entire squad on his own, ripping guts and all. Come to think of it, that was also about the time when we lost one of our biju. What a weird coincidence, huh."

"Oh yeah, I think I know that one. That was about the time when one of his teammates died too. What a weird coincidence, huh."

(somewhere in the corner Obito is furiously chewing on the wall)

Because Kishimoto is such an incredible writer that gives only his best when it comes to Obito, especially when he needs to write the conflict and relationships for a 30 year old guy and comes up with nothing but shit that concerned him when he was 14😁😁😁😁😁so he's stuck with nothing interesting for his entire Akatsuki life period, but I still think it's pretty funny that of all the people Obito could have gotten partnered with it had to be the only guy from the village that freed him of the burden of having a right side of the body🙏

But I think by far the most interesting ones would be Konan and Nagato as people of Amegakure, a village, as you remember, that kept getting run over by the major powers surronding it, I believe that in Nagato's flashbacks we even get the confirmation of the conflicts that Nagato personally had with Konoha and Iwa ninja (one for his parents' murder and another whenever Yahiko got in trouble as a kid). To them as part of the original militia Akatsuki the shinobi of the major villages (Iwa, Konoha, Suna in particular) are invaders and pretty much just enemies. But then obviously "Madara" pulls up and starts Uchihasplaining them how the world is wrong (duh) and how they must fix it. Obviously, following the change in management of the organization, they had to recruit new members, and while the official materials don't really have anything regarding this process (no, the videogames/light novels/whatever other bullshit produced by people not called Kishimoto Masashi don't count), I believe it's reasonable to assume that Obito, Nagato and Konan would at least sit down and chat about who they are bringing on their world-fixing-terroristic tour. And like. It must have been quite the experience to just sit there with this guy (who's supposedly one of the founders of the entire system they are currently living in) and get a bunch of candidates that they are supposed to invite even if just some time ago they would have been their enemies lol.

(and to be fair out of all the people that they have from the above mentioned villages two of them (Itachi and Deidara) were like 5 and 3 years old at the time Yahiko got killed, not to mention the whole TSWW, so I guess it would have been more weird to watch "Madara" turn their organization into a daycare rather than watch their headbands. but Sasori absolutely could have been to Ame back in his Suna days during the Third War. though again the nickname suggest that he was likely fighting a defensive war)

And, finally, we got what I like to call the kids generation meaning Hidan, Itachi and Deidara, all three of whom were born during the Third Shinobi World War, and, well, let's just that the defining feature of this group is just mental illness. Like, yeah, everyone's not okay in Akatsuki, but these guys? Fucked over since, like, toddlerhood. At least based on what limited information we have on them, with Itachi's extensive biography throught the plot it's obvious, Deidara was taken in at about the same age as Itachi did and was already on his manic pixie boy yapping about art with a "resume" so long that people three times his age would have trouble competing with the bullshit this young teenager already did. Hidan's the only one of three who was taken in as an adult, but... yeah... the whole cult and mass murder thing probably says nothing good about his childhood.

And just imagine being this young nukenin, only starting to become infamous for your crimes, and then you get dragged to join the organization with some of the strongest terrorists in modern shinobi history. I like to imagine there was this tiny sense of giddiness at achieving something like that? Like whenever a kid gets to do adult things, and there these guys are, on the same level as big shots. Well, at least for Deidara and Hidan, Itachi's too depressed and thinking of his foolish little brother. He can at least be happy that he's got the chillest guy as his partner.

(and on the other hand you got the rest of Akatsuki members confused why the fuck did the Leader get two 13 year olds in quick succession. like. yeah they good at mass murder but do we really have to raise them? is having ninja zoomers on the staff that important for the world domination plan?)

[kirby-derb]

im a big fan of Au's LIKE huge fan of the like college au's, coffee shop au's and all of that

and recently my brother dragged, n yeah I mean dragged, into the call of duty little world

So: College Au and you can fight me this is real I've seen it

John Price: now i put some thought into it but I strongly believe his major is either something like political science or history. He's probably one of the older ones on campus, (28) but he lives in his own apartment a good five minutes walk away. He's not the best student, but he sits in the second row in lecture halls and he IS the one someone would go to for notes because he somehow remembers everything?? His free time is either filled with taking his sister's dog (she lives with him) for a walk or he's volunteering at the local history museum as a tour guide/kids party guide. Ahem now just like everyone else in the world he needs shcoalship money and he found that he's relatively okay at debate, so he tried oug and by the end of the semester he was the captain. It works out.

Kyle Garrick: DONT GET ME WRONG, Kyle is a genuis. However I think journalism with maybe a minor in pre-law is his speed. He started a semester late so many people assumed he wasn't thr brightest, which was wrong, he's currently head of the school paper and has an internship with the cities main news outlet. He's the golden child, right up front, hand raised with a question whenever he was confused (and the whole class was too but he had the guts to actually ask) with his free time he is either working out, or is at the school coffee shop, if there are no seats he WILL sit on the floor, headphones on and furiously typing away- he's writing a memoir.

Simon Riley: Psychology. I'm SORRY but you cannot look me dead and in the eyes and say that poor baby that was traumatized wouldn't wanna know how the brain worked so he could fix himself. And that's why he chose it too, so he could fix himself and maybe like a friend or two. He's a solid B, rarely an A or rarely a C student. He sits in the back, sometimes he looks asleep but no? Now he and his roommate are both nocturnal otherwise he would have a small light clipped onto his text book and study there, instead he will go study in the lecture rooms till the security guard will come- his name is Jim, he and Simon are buds. For free time he likes walking down to the boxing gym that's not too far away, it's attached to some apartment complex. Now for his extracurricular, which he very hesitantly did- but he was cornered by some nerd in engineering so- ugh, well he's apart of the unofficial rugby team.

Johnny MacTavish: said nerd in engineering. He's technically double majoring in mechanical and chemical, how he's alive no one knows. He does spend about 99% of his time in the lab/workshop, or if someone's TV breaks down he's there is about two shakes. When he isn't studying, building, fixing, playing rugby with the psych dude who totally isn't his type he's asleep. Hate to say it but he doesn't have any free time, nd he perfers it that way. He does play rugby, and he's trying to make an official team- however till then he's also a prime member in the robotics club, his professions are trying to become president but that's just...so much time, time he doesn't have.

Um yeah? This is my first post so if you find anything wrong with it or if you see i did something wrong please please let me know!