#this kind of stuff has a name and it is called...BOSS material

[dia-souls]

===Yui Komori as an Idol Reverse Harem Headcanons===

Yui is known for her cuteness, she is really famous because of her aegyo as she doesn't look cringe while doing it.

Yui is one of the youngest idol in entertainment industry. She was 14 when she became a trainee and debuted at the age of 17.

Yui has a very shrill and gentle voice. Her vocals are good. She can hit high notes. She can also sing live.

Her dance is average. She is very good at doing gentle and elegant dances rather than fast and hip hop.

Yui has really soft and feminine beauty. Her visuals are compare to angel or doll because of her blonde hair, white skin and big eyes.

She doesn't dye her hair frequently but if she does, it's usually light colours like white, pink or highlights.

Her popularity shooted because of her performances in which she is dressed in a beautiful pink dress that matches her eyes and with a small crown adorning her hair. That performance caused her to get viral as people started comparing her to doll and her cute voice also caught attention of many people.

She has more fanboys (55%) than fangirls (45%).

Idol Yui works under Sakamaki cooperation whose head is Shu.

She has two manager Reiji and Ruki. Yui sometimes cries as both of them are strict and sometimes hard on her.

Ruki is incharge of taking care of her diet and her schedules. He is incharge of taking care of Yui and he makes sure she stays healthy and keeps her on ideal weight.

Reiji is incharge of handling her social sites and is responsible for tours recquirement, Yui's passwords etc are under Reiji. Reiji is usually the one who is keeping her socials update like posting picture, stories, captions, tik tok, etc.

There is unspoken rivalry between them, as they both compete on who is more responsible and who can handle all these things alone. They both secretly like Yui and are aware that opposite party also likes her.

Idol Yui is really famous among male idols and as well as other fans. Some male idols confessed that Yui is their ideal type.

Yui is also known for her kindness. As she always treats her fans kindly even rude and toxic ones whom disrespect her. She smiles at them gently instead of getting angry.

She through out her career never showed anger, she is also known for her calm nature.

She is considered to be wife-material that's why she is famous among Japanese men.

Yuma is Yui's personal body guard. Yums was given to Yui by commapany( by Shu) , her boss actually to make sure she stays safe and her sasaeng don't bother her or hurt her.

Azusa is Yui's hairstylist and makeup artist whom secretly is Yui's biggest stanner. He did this job just because he could be closer to his favourite idol.

He fells in love with her again and again as she always treats him kindly and doesn't judge his slow way of speaking.

Azusa always blushes whenever he sees her getting dress for her performances.

Azusa as yui stanner has his own accounts online where he defend Yui from haters and fights with them he always wins as he knows Yui's secrets and all stuffs. He is famous because of his defending way and was called Yui's no. 1 fanboy by online community no one saw his face neither he will reveal.

He protects Yui from shadows.

Kou is Yui's choreographer whom uses this opportunity to touch her in the name of making her learn faster and better.

Yuma once confronted him and was ready to beat the hell out of him when he noticed his way of touching her then he scolded by Ruki saying that he is only teaching her and nothing else.

Yuma still punched him but that didn't stop Kou. He sometimes manapulate Yui into going out with him.

Shu watches this all from his office through cctv camera and threatened Kou to kick him out if he tried anything funny on Yui again. He makes sure that all male staff stays in line.

Shu also changed the male staff to female staff most of the female staff work around Yui. He makes sure of it only 4-5 males are around Yui but they don't stay around her too much.

Yui is surrounded by female staff so that Shu could be at ease knowing she won't be harrased but he literally rubbed his temples when he found out that a staff girl confessed her love to Yui. She was kicked out.

Yuma was the one who told such things to Shu as Yuma knows he has power over to control them Yuma observes all of the staff the moment he finds them creepy or weird he immediately informs Shu so he could take action.

The staff is kicked out if he/she had ill intention towards Yui. In this way Yuma and Shu protect her.

Shu once installed a camera in Yui's changing room to peep at her only to be caught by Ruki whom than throwed it in dustbin while crushing it.

Reiji and Ruki never found out that Shu was the one behind this vulgar incident.

Yuma upon hearing this, his protectiveness and possessiveness towards Yui shooted up.

Yui is also shipped with Yuma, Reiji and Ruki. Because her moments with them always gets viral.

One time one fanboy made Yui uncomfortable and Yuma immediately rescues her by twisting his arms and he recieved positive comments from fans.

Ruki sometimes covers Yui with his jacket and Reiji sometimes glares at them whenever they make her feel bad or uncomfy.

Yui cracking jokes with them these moments makes fans ship them romantically.

Yuma and Yui were also caught up in the dating scandal. Just to have Shu immediately releasing a statement denying them without Yuma and Yui's approval or consent.

He afterwards made sure that this is actually not true and it was not true in reality.

Yui is also shipped with male idols. Her most famous ship is with kino. (in meantime, I will explain the reason👀)

Yui also works as a MC her male partner is Carla whom grabs every chance to get shipped with her.

Carlayui is second famous ship after Kinoyui between idols.

Yui is also shipped with Shin because of their interactions in variety shows where they both were paired up in games .

Tsukinamis are also idols but under different agency they aren't in same agency as Yui.

They once collabed with Yui which results in countless edits of them being shipped.

Tsukinamis compared to Yui are more famous and their popularity served as a clout for Yui to gain fans.

Subaru is Yui's biggest simp. He is Yui's rich fanboy. He has all of Yui's merches and photocards. His room is filled with Yui's pictures whom he took personally.

Subaru also stalks Yui while wearing black jacket or hood over black pants he always wears caps with his white hair poking through them he also wears black mask.

Subaru was called out once on this because on his Instagram people noticed that his pictures are in the same place as Yui and with exact same pose.

Reiji sued him immediately upon noticing but Subaru being rich easily got out off this and continued.

Subaru also applied for body guard position only to be rejected as he couldn't beat Yuma's strength and physic.

He also goes in same gym as Yuma and tries to get Yui's info from him only to get rejected.

The triplets are her fans who go to every one of her concerts and have not lost any of her concerts. Laito had even made her sign a marriage contract. Yui signed it thinking it was funny.

He later gushed about it to Ayato and Kanato whom then do same as him making Yui sign it and claims her as their wife on twitter and Facebook.

Ruki and Reiji later sue them as Yui then started recieving hate behind that hate train was Subaru whom made a big issue of such small thing by different accounts as a result Yui started bawling on her next live and he felt hella bad.

Shu than announced hiatus for Yui, which broke the triplets and Subaru.

Tsukinamis later defending her on their live saying idol life is hard and she is young which in return made Yui hated more by Tsukinamis fangirls.

Reiji and Ruki rubbed their temples when they saw hate comments by jealous fangirls of Tsukinamis.

Triplets and Subaru started hashtags of #saveyuifromtsukinami #saveyui #boycotttsukinami #saveyuifromphedophiles #tsukinamisstayawayfromyui

Shu then started protecting Yui by going to Tsukinamis agency and making her go to hiatus again and increasing security as people started hated on her he also sued alot of jealous fangirls and releasing statements on taking strict action on their cyber bullying.

Plot twist: It turns later out that Yui is now dating idol Kino who is in same agency as Tsukinami. She hid it from everyone as she isn't allowed to according to contact of her agency, Shu immediately threatens her.

Subaru fainted on spot when he saw Yui and Kino sharing kisses and hugs while stalking her

Triplets being heartbroken and started hashtags (they have a big fan following) #breakupyui #yuidontneedkino #freeyui #freeyuifromtsukinamiandkino #boycottkino.

Yui then under pressure of her two managers breaks up but Kino still has feelings the sad edits of them are made to this day.

Tsukinamis Jaws drop on knowing the truth that the snake is in the same den as them.

Shin during variety shows purposely push Kino or go hard on him while smirking and making him lose games as revenge.

Yui is Carla's MC partner so he try his best to console her and his edits are increasing with Yui.

Shin tries to make sure Kino stay away from Yui by getting in between or blocking their eye contact.

Laito also write dirty fics about Yui on wattpad and tumblr with himself as self insert they are hella dirty and has huge fan following shipping the OC laito with Yui but Subaru came across it and made an issue about it again by sending hate comments and promoting it to be cancelled on his social pages, Ruki upon reading fics sued Laito (lol).

Yui was sexualized once for wearing maid and neko outfit which attracted alot of male fans.

Azusa decided to make sure she gets mostly covered outfits like her dresses are usually long dress and skirt that reaches her kness she is boycotted to wear tight and short shots.

[604to647]

Lingerie

2.7K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Din shows you how he feels about lingerie.

Warnings: 18+ content (MDNI please), fluff with smut, established relationship, semi-public sex (people are downstairs), fingering, oral (f receiving), body worship (like in the lingerie), maybe a little degradation kink (whore/slut, affectionate), a bit of daddy kink, dirty talk, lots of pet names (pretty bird, baby, bunny, pretty girl, etc.), no implied age gap

A/N: Another one shot in the same modern AU where Din is a retired mob enforcer and now owns/runs a boxing gym where the mob guys hang out - this one takes place at the gym! I'm almost done the first two chapters of the "main" fic and hope to start posting soon. The chapters are kind of a slow burn as reader and Din meet, date, etc. so these one shots where their relationship is established is where all the smut is at for now - hee hee! 🤭 (Series Masterlist)

“I think it’s kind of a waste of money?”

“…and time? Like you’re just taking it off.  Too many snaps and stuff.”

“I dunno.  Maybe it sets the mood or something.”

“Well, she was pissed.  Got dressed and stormed off and now I think I’m supposed to apologize?”

“Dude, forget her!  Imagine getting pissed about underwear.”

This gets the group laughing and Din looks up briefly from his paperwork at the guys sitting around the boxing ring, relaxing after a long day of work and work outs.  One of the younger guys that’s only been working at the gym for a few months catches his eye and calls over, “Boss!  What do you think? Lingerie – worth it?”

Din shuffles his papers into a neat pile and takes off his glasses before walking over to join the group.  The truth was, before you, he hadn’t really given much thought to lingerie.  If a partner wore something lacy and matching, it was nice but not really a must have.  Before you, he might have agreed: lingerie was just something to take off.  But on you.  Lingerie on you made him feral.  Din knew that you loved your matching sets and that you wore lingerie mostly for yourself, but that just made it hotter – knowing that you had a little racy secret that wasn’t meant for anyone else drove him crazy.  And somehow, the lingerie you wore only accentuated your loveliness - you never wore anything overly complicated; just soft lace resting against your already soft skin, pretty bows decorating your pretty curves.  He might have inadvertently drooled on more than one occasion upon undressing you.  For those few times you had worn something especially for him, he had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming – what had he done to deserve you wrapping yourself so delicately and offering yourself up to him like a present?  His mind flashes to soft lace cups barely covering your nipples.

The snapping of an underwear band against your hip.

See-through mini dresses that flutter when you bounce on his lap.

Panties made of thin material with enough give to accommodate his whole hand.

Delicate satin straps slipping off your shoulder allowing the attached fabric to fall, revealing your breast. 

He loved lingerie on you, and found that more often than not, he didn’t take it off completely when he fucked you.

Din finds himself starting to get hard just thinking about your body barely covered in something flimsy and sheer, and he has to remind himself that he’s still at work.  Chuckling, he says to the group, “I think, if you’re lucky enough to undress a girl, Brian, you should be worshipping anything she lets you see.”

The hoots and hollers that follow are briefly interrupted when the front door of the gym opens and the unmistakeable pitter patter of canine feet approach the men on the gym floor.   The dog makes a beeline for Din; he greets the pup with enthusiastic scratches, with the rest of the guys coming over to get their share of doggy love.  Din looks up to see you following, carrying pizza boxes and an assortment of takeout containers and he can��t help but grin widely.  He leaves the dog to the guys’ choruses of “Who’s a good boy?” and comes over to help you. He had texted you earlier to let you know he was working late tonight finishing up month-end tax forms, and even though he had said he would just grab a bite to eat while he worked, you knew he wouldn’t. Missing him after your own long workday, you decided to pick up some food and take a cab over to surprise him.

Din takes the food from you with one hand and put his other on the small of your back, using it to pull you in firmly for a deep kiss.  You brace your now free hands on his broad chest as he presses into you and wonder what’s got him so riled up.

The pizza boxes and take out are deposited on a table and the guys make their way over, offering their profuse thanks before diving in to the boxes.  One of the bigger boxers, Chris, turns to you, but avoiding Din’s eyes, asks, “Do you mind helping us with a lady question, ma’am?”

Ma’am?  You giggle to yourself, that’s a new one; you decide that the moniker is a sign of respect for Din and not any commentary on your age so you smile, “Sure, what’s up, boys?”

“Is it okay if a man doesn’t care about your lingerie?”, he continues quickly, “I mean not your lingerie!! Hypothetically… I mean, um, that is…. Um, in general like, if a girl is wearing lingerie, do you have to pretend to like it?”

You must look so confused because Din steps in and explains, “Brian’s girl wore something nice for him and he told her he didn’t care about lingerie, so she left and now she isn’t speaking to him.”

Din looks thoroughly entertained, but Brian looks both so mortified and curious from where he’s standing a little further back that you decide to take pity on him and try to keep your expression thoughtful.

“Here’s the thing, guys, we don’t wear it for you or anyone else; lingerie is for ourselves.  To make us feel any number of things: sexy, confident, soft, sweet, powerful, whatever.  So please don’t tell a woman you don’t care about her feeling good?” There’s a chorus of “Ohs” and some nodding among the crowd.  You start gathering the boxes that hold Din’s dinner as you continue, “And in general, I think effort should always be acknowledged?”

There is a murmuring of consensus and you mouth to Brian, “Call her” before you head up the stairs to Din’s office; you feel Din’s foot steps close behind, and behind his, the dog’s.

Once in the office, the pup plops himself down on the dog bed Din keeps under his desk, as you lay out Din’s dinner in front of his computer.  You realized you never asked if he wanted to have dinner in his office, so you quickly confirm, “I didn’t mean to assume you wanted to eat up here!  Did you want to or do you want to go back down to the group?”

Din loves your thoughtfulness, but the idea that he might want to spend time with a bunch of gym rats instead of you is laughable.  He takes your hand and leads you over to his small office couch; sitting, he pulls you down on top of him so you’re straddling his thighs.

“Pretty bird, nowhere I would rather be than right here.”

Your lips meet his for an eager kiss, and your hands automatically reach up to run through Din’s hair as his roam your back and knead your ass.  When you pull back, you see he has a lazy grin on his face; he really can be so adorable and you give him a little peck on his nose before asking playfully, “So, did they ask you what you thought of lingerie?  What did you say?”

Din laughs, “I told those youngsters they need to appreciate how lucky they are that any beautiful woman would let them look at her, never mind in her underwear.”

You chuckle and lightly kiss his nose again, “What about you?”

“Me? There’s only one beautiful woman I see in underwear and I appreciate her very, very much.” Din punctuates his last words with a light spank to your ass causing you to give a little yelp in surprise.

“No,” you continue, almost shy, “do you�� like it?”

“Like it?”, Din kisses your neck as he continues, “Baby, your lingerie drives me fucking crazy.”

He doesn’t stop kissing your neck, but does move his hands to untuck your shirt and slip his hands underneath, lightly running them up and down your bare sides.  Whispering hotly in your ear, he goes on, “Always, so fucking sexy, bunny.  You’re like a sweet little present ready for me to unwrap.”

His hands have moved up to your breasts, thumbs running over the tops of your bra lace before dropping slightly to rub over your hardening nipples through the fabric.  Kissing across the column of your throat, his voice low when he reaches your other ear, “Love the way your tits spill out of your bras and the tops bounce, right into my mouth. And these…” Din rolls your nipples between his fingers as he speaks, “I love I can still get your nipples hard even through this pretty lace. Fuck you’re always so pretty in your pretty lingerie, baby.”

Din has his mouth buried in your neck, but you can still hear his dirty words and they’re making you moan, “Pretty sounds too, bun.  You always make the prettiest, sluttiest noises for me when you’re all wrapped up.  Drives me insane.  Sweetheart, love sucking on your tits through the fabric, getting it all wet.  Have to stop myself from biting down and ripping it off with my teeth, you get me so hot.  And your panties, fuck, baby…”

You whimper as Din growls, “Fuck.  So pretty, barely covering your hot ass and sweet pussy.  Goddamn, I love how soaked they get for me.”  He takes one hand out of your shirt and snakes it up your skirt; just brushing the front of your panties with his knuckles, finding them wet, “…like this. Fuck yes, pretty bird.”

By now, you’re making little movements to grind against Din’s hand, hoping to find the delicious pressure you need. You kiss him hard and he uses his other hand to lift and bunch up your shirt just above your bra; he leans back to admire your lingerie choice today: mint green and sheer, with embroidered floral lace covering your most delicate and delectable parts.  With the slight up and down motion you’re making, your breasts are already bouncing and Din cannot take his eyes off of you, “So soft, pretty girl.  And.. there we go, right into my mouth.” He dives in, taking as much as your breasts in his mouth as he can and sucks, causing you to let out a throaty moan.  You clasp both your hands over your mouth to muffle the sound, and in that split second have a moment of clarity. “Din!” you chastise, as you gently push him off your chest by his shoulders, “you haven’t had dinner yet! You’re supposed to be eating.”

Din flashes you the biggest smirk before pulling you down by your hips and turning you so you’re laying your head at one end of the small couch, “Oh, don't worry your pretty head, bunny. I plan on eating.”  You can’t help but giggle as he starts to move down your body.  Down your chest, mouthing each lace covered breast before moving on and peppering your stomach with kisses.  Din leans back and lifts your skirt until he sees your matching panties, not missing the way a spot is darkening on the fabric. “All this for me, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes,” you moan quietly, closing your eyes in pleasure.

Din reaches forward and starts to rub your clit through the fabric, earning him a louder whine, “Please, Din… please.”

Without stopping his slow circles on your clit, Din shifts back on the couch and crouches down to face your cunt, “Love how wet you are for me, pretty bird.  Looks good enough to taste.”

He uses his free thumb to hook the gusset of your panties and pulls them aside; the cool air hits you right away and you have a moment to enjoy the chill against your wet core before Din dives in.  He starts by licking a stripe up your seam, and repeats this with increasing pressure while putting more and more of his mouth on you.  Your head falls back and you cry out in pleasure with every pass of his tongue over your hole.   Head now cloudy with desire, you use your hands to pull down the cups of your bra, freeing your breasts so you can grab at them and pull on your nipples; when Din sees this, he groans into your pussy and the vibration makes you whimper.  Taking this as encouragement, Din licks up and begins sucking on your clit while he teases your slit with his fingers.  Your slick having now coated two of his fingers, Din plunges them into you in one smooth motion, all the way in to his first knuckles causing you to let out an obscene moan from the stretch.  You once again clasp your hands over your mouth to muffle your sounds, but Din uses the hand that isn’t pumping in and out of you to pull your hands down by the wrist and place them back on your breasts, “Want to hear you use your whore mouth, bunny,” he mumbles as he nips at your clit.

“But what if someone hears and comes up?”

“Not even those knuckleheads downstairs would be dumb enough to come in,” Din chuckles, “Let them hear you, baby.  Let them know how good their boss makes you feel.”

Din’s right, none of the guys would come up and bother Din while you were here, but for a moment, you imagine what it would look like if one of them did open the office door right now: you splayed out on the couch, with your top pushed up and your bra pulled down, tits hanging out while their boss has his fingers deep in your cunt and his head in between your legs.  The whole image has a fresh wave of arousal leaking out of you while you clench hard on Din’s fingers.

“Oh, did my little slut like that?  Does it turn you on, the idea of other guys seeing me wreck your pussy?”

“Oh, g-god. Din, no…I-“

“Don’t lie, pretty girl. You’re a filthy slut, aren’t you?  Want other guys to see your pretty tits and wet pussy, knowing they can only look and they can’t touch?”

“Yes, daddy! I’m such a fucking whore for you.  Only you can touch me like this… feels so g-good.  Oh yes..yes!” You’re babbling now as you start to feel a familiar coil tightening below your stomach.

Din knows your body well, so he doubles down on your clit, sucking and toying with your nub like a man on a mission.  He adds a third finger and keeps up a steady rhythm that has you hurtling towards the edge. 

“I’m close!” you gasp, your eyes are closed and your hands pulling and rolling your nipples so hard it hurts just the right amount to add to your overwhelming pleasure.  The squelching coming from Din’s fingers fucking your pussy mixed with your and his filthy noises are pushing you further and further towards your climax; you’re almost there when Din growls into your cunt, “Come for me.”

And you do.  You come hard on his hand and mouth, crying out so intensely that ironically, no noise comes out as you shudder and arch your back off the couch.  Din slows down his hand and slowly fucks you through your high while he continues to lightly kiss you all over your mound.

When you’ve come down from your climax, Din removes his fingers from your dripping hole; you pout a little from the loss but gladly open up when his brings his fingers up to your mouth, taking in all three fingers and sucking them clean.  With his hands clean, Din straightens you up, adjusting your panties and bra so everything is sitting on your body pretty again and pulls down your shirt and skirt.  You can still taste yourself on him when he kisses you tenderly, “You did so good, pretty bird, coming so sweetly for me.  Did that answer your question about how I feel about your lingerie?”

Smiling, you nod, still a little light headed from your orgasm, “What about you, Din?” You run your hand gently over his crotch, feeling his hard cock strain against his pants; you look up at him with want in your eyes.

Din smirks.  “Don’t you worry, bunny.  When I’m done this paperwork, I’m going to take you home and soak that pretty bra and panty set in my cum.”

[night-dazai]

The Demon Never Died - 2

Dazai X Reader

Synopsis: you are stuck in a room tied up with rapists outside and Dazai has agreed to surrender to save you . Will your kidnappers let you go or not ?

Your head hurt , your hands burned and your whole body felt light but heavy and jelly like “ where am i ?” you thought trying to open your eyes to be blinded by colourful yellow and white lights . Your realised your hands were cuffed with metal handcuffs your legs tied with a soft rope kind of material and you sat in the middle of a bed in a motel kind of room . “M..motel ?” you mumbled to hear a voice , you turned your head in fear to see a tiny computer screen near the door “ she woke up boss “Someone spoke but not to you . You just sat trying to listen but soon the voices became to muffled you could not make out much . Wriggling your hands in those cuffs only hurt you , your brain still fuzzy kept playing all the bad memories Dazai calling you , men breaking into your house. Teras were threatening to spill but not wanting to cry infront of your kidnappers you turned your back to them facing the bed you sobbed crying your lover's name again and again . Its not like you did not have a family, you were brought up by your mom and dad for the past 20 years of your life and when you turned 19 they had to go to the US . You wanted to stay in Japan and thus you did . Meeting Dazai as one of the works of Fukuzawa was accidental but the moment you saw him you knew he could make you fall and you did fall . But what surprised the whole detective agency was that he fell for you too. The director who was your uncle's closest friend had a one-on-one meeting with you asking if you were okay with this , cause everyone knew the dangers around him and anybody in the agency . Why even Dazai tell you ; yet you chose him” why?” “Don't know “ you said making the bandaged man look at you confused “ Bella, I have a lot of past also and that might not be nice for a girl like you “ he said again his playful tone gone it was more like someone trying to order you . Which you hated the most “Dazai , i am not a very normal person also so dont worry i dont care “ . Not convinced he spoke again “ Darling i might to fight , and even it wont happen but ther-” he got cut with you flicking his forehead “ kill, dont care .” you took a sip of your coffee and spoke “ Do you know one thing “ your voice clam and soft and for the first you were opening up to him no opening up to a human , you also had you share of past trauma. “ A female hurt would just want to get out of that place thats what society has taught us , run away , dont make any more mistakes “ his brown orbs stared at you as you proceeded “ but after calming dow. You have no idea how we fell , we would rather have that person who hurt us even killed “ you paused realising how dark you went but little did you know it was nothing compared to how drak he was “ i mean that does mean i want to kill and stuff but if you are with me i can be sure i won't be hurt or harmed so dont worry and even if I am hurt you are here again so comfort me, “ you said opening your arms for a hug . Dazai got into your arms “Bella you are stuck “ he said nuzzling into your neck “he..ehst..stop” you said feeling all weird “ why dear we are couple “ he said looking up at you . “Dazai… “ you cried but now dry on tears decided to stall and make time for him to come and find you “ i am not your gf for no reason “ you mumbled and turned back to face the camera “what to do ?”

Dazai went into the bathroom after watching the video “its been 10 mins go get him “ Ranpo said making the blonde trun at look at him “ let him clam down first “ he said raising his glass. Everyone quietly started at the laptop screen where it played of video of you trying to remove the rope on your leg , they all heard you and saw you and soon the screen changed “ get us Dazai we will let this girl go unharmed like nothing happened but he should come to us alone and with no weapons and he should be tied up “ . The voice that spoke through the black screen was annoying and horse Athushi was fuming and Koyo who has never showed much emotion was fighting back the urge to break the laptop in front of her” is there any ability users with you ?” Tanizaki asked frowning with anger. “We dont , trust we are just normal people who hate him send him to us “ they said once again and before Ranpo could talk “ i will come , one condition i will bring another girl with me , she is not an ability user but she will take y/n from there and i will surrender, “ Dazai said coming into the room . His face had the most unreadable expression. Before everyone could protest Fukuzawa spoke “ he has to go if he wants to save her “ . The other side gave out a horrendous laugh before telling them the location to meet .

This is how he looks when telling them he agrees to come to the location .

I am sorry guys 😭😭😭I seem to be dragging this longer than I thought .

I will end this in the next part and you guys can wait for a part 4 which will be lovely seggs .

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Sluggy

Debut: Super Mario World 2: Yoshi’s Island

Sluggy is what I in the business like to call a Pathetic Lump! Obviously I mean that only affectionately and I love this thing to bits! A little blob is always a great kind of creature. Often they are just purely cute, too, no matter how unsanitary they may realistically be! Sluggy, however, has a simple, but key thing to stand out from other blobs. It has hairs! Not a funny hairdo or anything, just regular hairs, sticking out of it haphazardly. Clearly its OWN hairs, it even has eyelashes! But I think there is something so unwholesome about a blob that grows hair.

Sluggies come in two variations! Pinkish ones with red spots do not move much, but yellowish ones with blue spots do. I like the yellowish ones because I like yellow and blue! Sluggies are sticky rascals and will stick to ceilings, dripping down when Yoshi is underneath! They are not very threatening, but they are just creatures. They probably eat mold. Don’t need to be threatening to eat mold!

Sluggies look kind of similar to Fuzzies, don’t you think? A soft white shape with dot eyes and some hairs. Yoshi’s Island Fuzzies, are, of course, the hard psychadelic drug reference that’s fun for the whole family, making the entire world undulate around Yoshi on effect. Not like Sluggy at all...

But oh! Lookie here! An unused sprite of a balloon-like Sluggy, even MORE resembling a Fuzzy! You may think it silly for a slug to inflate and fly, but this is actually a clever reference to the real biological phenomenon of me just messing with you! Maybe Sluggies were originally going to fly, or Fuzzies were going to look like this?

Well, in early previews, Sluggy the Unshaven- the boss form which we have discussed previously- is referred to, in prerelease material as a Giant Watabo! This may seem meaningless, and that is because I forgot to mention that Fuzzy’s Japanese name is Watabo! It specifies it as a “cotton monster”, and that is just so strange to me. This is so clearly a Blob. Even the spots on the small unused sprite make me think Blob Mottles, you know? I do not like the idea of a cotton monster being gelatinous and transparent, with an organic heart. That is not what cotton is about! That would get the cotton all sticky! And bloody! Blech! I would not wear that stuff! I am glad they settled on these as slug creatures, but also fascinated at the shared conceptual lineage that may have existed...

After not appearing in Yoshi’s Island DS, Sluggies DO reappear in Yoshi’s New Island! Maybe everyone is too hard on this game. Look how identical the model is to the official art! Someone was a Classic Sluggy fan!

Sluggies have not made any other appearances, but I like this image used for a puzzle. Look at all these friends. You can tell they are friends because Sluggy and some ghosts left the safety of their dank crypts to join the fun in the sun! I just hope Sluggy is staying in the shade and using enough sunblock. I legitimately think it could get sunburn on its internal organs. What a wretched thought.

[scarlettaagni]

wait wait wait

Did Psyphon lose his job by listening to Ben in the final episode of UA? (in your rewrite)

How? Why?

I mean, Psyphon only listens to Vilgax.

ok, I can have a little sympathy for him (he thinks it was his fault)

That means that now he is on his account and maybe he has time to think about many things. Character growth?

Which gives us way to OV.

Are you going to rewrite some episodes here too?

large chunks of my rewrites, for any franchise, really, not just Ben 10, come from witnessing the source material or watching someone else point out it absolutely bungling something so bad you just have to take it into your own hands

In the actual UA finale, Dagon's essence is sucked into the machine Psyphon was introduced just to run and he's about to bestow it onto Lucubrax. Ben and trio are there and rather than really doing anything, Ben is just like "Psyphon, don't! If you do that, Vilgax will be all-powerful!"

and Psyphon to his credit is like "Um? Yeah? I... know?? That's kind of the POINT?" and does it anyways

and every single time I thought about it, I slammed both of my fists onto the desk like "MAYBE HE WOULDN'T HAVE DONE IT IF YOU ACTUALLY MADE A GOOD ARGUMENT, BEN! ARGUE ON HIS OWN TERMS!"

Like there were so many convincing things you could have said. If even lying is on the table, why not say things like "that's not really Vilgax, it's Dagon tricking you"/"he's been corrupted by Dagon, it's not really him" or "that level of power will kill Vilgax!", "he'll level the whole planet with YOU on it!". Like there were so many things that would make sense to Psyphon to make him at least hesitate but instead they went with "no, don't do the thing! it will cause something you want to happen!" then he calls them stupid like they deserve and does it anyways

so I took the fixed version of that interaction and put it in my rewrite

Basically cutting out the Lucubrax stuff, Psyphon is there to transfer Dagon's energy through the cracked seal to a restored Vilgax, who absorbed Dagon's heart and wields Ascalon, Dagon instead sucks Vilgax into the seal through him (and they fuse, as a way of getting rid of competition, as punishment for trying to steal his power, and to reclaim his heart) so Psyphon panics and retreats when the heroes close in. So he may or may not think he just vaporized or helped vaporize his boss, but Dagongax sends him messages of Vilgax telling him to break the seal to free him

whatever's going on with the heroes is still happening so probably the teamwork of Dagon-controlled Gwen and fully-autonomous-but-desperate Psyphon break the seal and he bittersweetly watches as something vaguely resembling Vilgax but not responding to the name wreaking havoc as it walks away

so there, Ben confronts Psyphon and tries to enlist his help and that's where they have their little debate. That thing is objectively not Vilgax anymore, if it completes its goal, he'll effectively be dead forever, and it's unclear if this is something Vilgax would really want. Psyphon is still trying to defend them both, but as Ben points out, the look on his face says it all: he's been having doubts for a long time after the initial seal incident and just choosing to believe Vilgax is still himself. So, now Ben and co (probably along with George and some Esoterica and Forever Knights not yet dead) need his help to undo what he helped cause.

[Dagongax lasering the horizon in the distance behind Psyphon] Psyphon: ... Do I have time to think it over...? Ben: Forget it. [group begins to move] Psyphon: No, wait! ... What do I have to do?

so basically Psyphon is pretty important, at least when it comes to defusing the two. Dagon is made up of power, Vilgax is not, and they're fused. So if Psyphon can lay a hand on Dagongax, he can separate the two, and shoot a beam of Dagon energy to Ascalon like a lightning rod. Sure, the fusion means Dagongax is half-mortal but it's also protecting him from Ascalon's effects.

Dagongax knows this, so as it heads to the ocean to raise R'yleh and bring Dagon's dimension into this world or vice versa, it summons the worldwide Esoterica army to guard itself and stop Psyphon from getting close. with some cover, he gets to Dagongax, absorbs Dagon and almost melts, but sends the charge out as planned and both he and a restored-to-original-form Vilgax falls like, several miles out of the sky. Psyphon even lets Vilgax land on him to cushion the blow:

(also the defusing is the reason they both have Dagon beam eyes from this point onwards. Vilgax figures that out sooner than Psyphon)

they're fairly gone for the rest of the finale, likely until Ben's defeated Dagon (since the Dagon strike to Ascalon possibly killed George like in the canon finale) then after, Psyphon ensures Vilgax's safe return to their ship. And there's like a a very awkward tension where Psyphon kinda tries to act like it's back to business as usual but Vilgax is stewing.

s'yeah, he beckons him closer, tells him his services are no longer required, gives him 10 minutes to gather his things before he kicks him out of the ship onto Earth. Psyphon tries arguing but when he wastes a minute doing that, he rushes to get his essentials, and then he's on his own on Earth. He lived on Vilgax's ship so he's homeless and also has no money, alien or otherwise. He has nowhere else to go bc although Earth fuckin' sucks, he's kinda wanted dead everywhere else for being Vilgax's wingman and doesn't even have a ship or the resources for one to go and see.

Listening to Ben got him fired because he technically cost his boss his sole objective, to save him. he was SO loyal... he betrayed him. Greek tragedy shit.

This is the beginning of what I call Psyphon's Unemployment Arc which is a replacement for what he does during OV era

less of actual episodes rewrites, more of a big rework. Psyphon deliberately avoids the trio and Ben, any and all plot hooks and plot points but no longer actively does crime since it's not his job anymore. Basically anytime he's onscreen it's against his will, and as a gag, he has cameos in hypothetical episodes by grace of Ben always getting punched into a building Psyphon happens to be in. Like literally flashes or blurs of his figure as Ben is sent flying through several walls or sometimes a dedicated shot where he walks in to see what's up and then immediately backs out. Not to say he won't get into fights, because sometimes he's so pissed at the trio he'll just throw hands on sight for bothering him. Will slam his door in the face of the trio asking for his unique help on something, and fellow villains trying to rehash Negative 10 alike.

He'd like to crawl into a hole and die or just lay underneath a window in an abandoned house he's squatting in and live like a houseplant watching Youtube streamers for the rest of his lifespan but just cause he physically can do that, doesn't mean he won't go stir-crazy doing it. So he uses an ID mask (taken from Kevin, reprogrammed with a different human disguise) to go out and do things that occupy his time.

First Psyphon takes up interests he already has, volunteering at mechanics or dojos, then moves onto improving himself via picking up new skills. Another gag being you see him/his disguised form doing something new every single time. Ben gets punched into a kitchen where Psyphon's learning to make pierogis. Ben falls through a seamstress storefront where Psyphon is sewing. Ben downs a chunk of forest where Psyphon is birdwatching. You get the deal.

I also think since a weakness of his is magic, so he decides to learn some for himself, and goes to Friedkin. He's so fucking pissed Gwen is there. She'll get fucking pissed when she realizes he's there. They're both the class suck-ups. He seethes the entire hour he shares a hall with her. He hates her the least out of the trio but is just so mad someone he knows is there. He already hates being around humans but some he hates more than others. It's like the Michael Morningstar episode but Psyphon is literally there just to learn, for real. They have a magic fight just cause Gwen started it after confronting him about his true identity.

He would like "witch" or "sorcerer", but insists on being called "warlock", since it means oathbreaker. Because Psyphon realizing he betrayed Vilgax's trust messed him up.

Sometimes he's just too tired to throw a fit so he just banters with the trio and they get a better inkling of him actually being a person with depth and garner some real pity for him. Soon after his firing, Ben pissed him off by asking if he was gonna be good now since he's not working for Vilgax, to which Psyphon reminds him it's Ben's fault for that and why would he ever want to work for him. Every so often they present slight opportunities to actually make the switch to good but he's EXTREMELY open about wanting his job back.

He's still planning on getting Vilgax to rehire him, but realistically expects it to take a while. Vilgax stripped his permissions away so he can't order the bioids around, but if he ever catches a fight between Vilgax and Ben, he does scavenge the ones Ben wrecks and fixes them up himself. Then eventually gives them paint jobs and pulls off some heists (cause no money) to build himself a ship and go off to do what Vilgax does: conquer worlds. Like probably announces this, interrupting a Ben and Vilgax fight to give them a heads up. The deal he proposes is that he won't fight Vilgax for any territory, but if he rehires him, all of Psyphon's worlds will be Vilgax's. He thought he was being enticing, but he just pisses Vilgax off who goes "I don't neED YOUR CHARITY". The heroes are disappointed he turned down their chances at redemption and he's just like "have you listened to anything I've ever said ever"

if they were ever holding out hope that his declines were secretly gearing up for a heel-face turn they were being the delusional ones because he was always up-front about his intentions for the present, and the future

and the world conquering thing is probably what he does till 10K future time, when Vilgax gets resurrected from his then-long ago death and the offer still holds. Psyphon's effectively been running Vilgax's empire for him in his stead (having already merged their lots), and now that he's back... well, that old betrayal was such a long time ago, wasn't it?

last note: subtle character arc! from OS onwards, Psyphon starts out not knowing really anything about humans, to absorbing info from checking their internet UAF-era, and eventually dropping casual slang into his previously very formal speech in OV-era.

Goes from saying shit like "well, this is a pleasant dilemma we've found ourselves in" to looking Ben dead in the eyes and going "dude this sucks"

Not that he ever stops speaking the way he does, just sprinkling in slang often enough that it absolutely blindsides the trio

[terrainofheartfelt]

Hi okay. So opera is like. One of my biggest cultural blind spots. And I wanna start trying to get into it but at you know…reasonable prices lol. Any tips on where to start? Maybe in terms of where to watch operas online? And which operas are more easily digestible for a newbie lol

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! waking up and seeing this in my notifs made me sooooooo happy! S! there's a beautiful, wondrous, extremely problematic world of art awaiting you!

Alright, so I'm gonna try to take your question bit by bit but this is my specialized field and I love to talk about it but I'll try my best ok ok

pricing is definitely a valid concern - I totally get it. good news is there are still lots of options to see opera live that are not in A-level, top dollar houses. try googling and poking around instagram for what's called "storefront" companies, ie, smaller companies. there's less star power and production value, but you can see great performances for $20-$60 a ticket, depending on the house and your neck of the woods. another great option is the MetHD series. The Met Opera in NYC is an institution that I have....lots of thoughts about -- and we can talk about those too if you like -- but a decent thing they've done is that for about half of their season, they broadcast performances to movie theaters all over the world. I haven't gone since the Before Times (pre-covid), but I think the most I paid was 40 bucks. and it is a great way to see opera that's low stakes. wear comfy clothes, bring a big sweater, stuff your purse full of snacks. my friend and I went to Tristan and Isolde with numerous smuggled snacks and big old fountain drinks and it rocked!

online stuff: possibilities are endless. MetHD does have a catalog of past performances - you have to pay, so take that for what you will, but you can find whole ass operas on YouTube! and once you figure out what kinds you like, and which singers you like, you can get pickier and choosier. And of course, check out your local library! big city library systems likely have lots of digital subscriptions to peforming arts things. some names to look out for: Alexander Street Press; medici tv; naxos. a cursory google brought up this NYT article that has some resource possibilities too!

and, my recommendations for a new viewer!

disclaimer: I am a sucker for big, bombastic, romantic grand opera, but I understand that that can be A Bit Much for a first timer, so while I love all of these, not all are my top faves, but I think they are a great primer, and hopefully if you like them I can go on and on about the heavier-hitters later.

I personally think the best starting point for someone looking to get into opera is Puccini. He was a bit of a bastard (weren't they all) but his music and stories all unfold in a cinematic kind of way. Opera was written to fit a specific kind of theatrical/musical structure for a long time, and Puccini and his era was where that structure kind of broke down, and he just wrote to move a story and characters and music forward, away from this speak-sing, solo, repeat, speak-sing, ensemble, rinse repeat kind of thing. for a specific title, I highly recommend Tosca. The political battle for Italy's unification is the backdrop for one hell of a story. The title character is a boss ass bitch. She sings well, fights well, dies well. I think it rocks. and it's a very popular one, so finding an online version or a live performance should be easy going!

and S, since you are a theatre kid, I'd steer you to checking out La Boheme as well -- its the og source material Larson based Rent off of, though it's considerably more tragic. music is gorgeous though. Zefferelli (yeah, that one) directed a production at the Met that they mount every other year. it's beautiful! another I think you should try is La Traviata. aka the basis of the classic film Moulin Rouge. this one is by Verdi, based off the Dumas Lady of the Camellias. a courtesan in Paris who falls in love with this young man, and the forces of fate that pull them apart. it's got that aria that you hear in Princess Diaries 2 Royal Engagement, and there are moments of music that are just so fucking SUBLIME. Puccini also wrote his own spin on Dame aux Camellias called La Rondine, and it is a delightful, gorgeous, romantic piece, definitely worth checking out.

Okay one more rec and then I'll stop myself. and this one will be contemporary! mentioning the Met reminded me that this season they've swung big and put Dead Man Walking on their list. this is an opera that's been very important to me for like, 10 years. I learned one of the arias in undergrad, and I even met Sister Helen Prejean, and a few years after that, I got to see it live in kansas city, and even though we agreed that the lead was kinda meh, my friend and I were still so moved that we were sobbing. it's so so so powerful. idk if it is part of MetHD, but if so, I highly encourage you to see it. so, it is based off of Sister Helen's memoir Dead Man Walking, about how she came to be a spiritual advisor to inmates on death row, and it follows her starting this new -- phase? i guess? -- of her nun career, through to the inmates execution. it is not for the faint of heart, and I would say read the wikipedia and mind the content warnings, but god what a great opera. and one more note about the composer, honestly I don't think anyone else is doing it like Jake Heggie. he understands this concept that I think many modern composers don't, is that he's creating a dramatic work. and whether is comedic or tragic, it's got to move people. I've dealt with a lot of shitty modern opera, and I think those are mostly composed as if they are university assignments. llike, prove how well you understand this music theory concept by writing it. I say it's more like they are writing math problems instead of music. but Jake Heggie writes music. and that's what makes DMW such a standout to me. That and a low-voiced woman plays the heroic lead (rarer than one may think rip)

I am so so happy you asked and I am always open to talking more if you're curious! (and that goes for S and anyone else reading this <333)

[thelocalconstellation]

RAMBLE ABOUT D&D. DESPITE BEING THE PERSON WHO SPARKED THAT SHADOW ART WHENEVER I SEE IT I THINK OF MY FUCKED UP WARLOCK

okay so, guessing which of the 2 dnd related tags I've made in the last 2 hours, I'm going to assume this is related to Clown Of Madness? this gets long. I went on multiple tangents.

I'm gonna be real with you. Whenever I make a dnd character there's a 50/50 shot it's Actually A Character or it's a character I like that I've just poorly pasted into dnd. This was also the second ever time I've played dnd 5e. so I roll in with a walmart tim stoker (magnus archives) because I heard "evil circus?" and decided to be Funny. My fancy magic item was a camera that was haunted that would point out Incorrect things in reality. I think his name was Timothy Stonks.

I think we had like. Timothy Stonks. (half elf fighter-rogue), we had an automaton warlock named Auto, fucking feral little mouse barbarian critter, tabaxi rogue, and I don't remember what the last guy or two was. I liked this one a lot but I deadass do not remember much with clarity. I think Auto (played by my friend, who I shall refer to as Vinegar Packets, VP for short) was really neat and I loved that guy. One of the highlights I think, of that oneshot was Auto giving their patron the Fear status effect so we had an eldritch horror cowering in the back of the big top and a crack in reality forming on the floor. We also broke one of the DM's puzzles by smuggling the mouse in Auto's (affectionately dubbed) titty microwave along with one of the tabaxi's soulknife things. I think we did another thing or two which left two of us to cross a dubious bridge, that would support two players at any given moment. The circus oneshot was very fun though.

Right now, I'm loosely planning a campaign (personally dubbed In Stars And Dice for the fact that this started. started. as a very loose isat inspired oneshot. and then I got Funky with the worldbuilding. and everything spiralled wildly out of control.) which is gonna be Fun I think. I stole themes and tone of worldbuilding from isat but ngl. not much else. I'm also mangling the magic system of 5e because we. never paid much attention to material requirements. the only way to play the game wrong is if nobody is having fun.

The same DM for the circus oneshot, who I'm calling Veggitales, is currently running a kind of mini-campaign? It's estimated 9 sessions, I'm playing an Aasimar named Cordelia and By God the Guilt Complex in this one. Don't ask about why a paladin is in hell right now we're not worrying about glaring plot holes. I also think maybe somebody should have explained How Exactly paladins Become paladins usually to me because man I did NOT have a players handbook when I did this. I've been using wikidot this whole time.

We're also 2/3 completion in what started as a pirate Oneshot but has now turned into a threeshot, I swapped off a half assed character for session one to a character I actually love, she's a human mastermind rogue named Cynthia and the rage in this kid is like. her sole identifying trait. if she's not weirdly offstandish and ready to kill then she's been replaced. The pirate oneshot is also Great because that's the guy whose like. yeah. that's the usual DM. He's an enigma and he's great. He's keeping tabs on his boss's activity for weird shit so he can report him to the cops. He does boxing. he never checks the discord. I asked the guy's partner (also our friend, and the DM for the christmas crack oneshot) what he's even up to and I just hear "yeah he's been taking down a corrupt government in roblox for a little while" and I had to sit here like "He's Been Doing What Now" and I ask my older brother about this (because our usual DM started as my older brother's friend before he was rapidly introduced to my friend group, it's a bit of a story) and he was like "Yeah, you should ask him about it sometime it's kind of interesting!" and I'm like. What.

Anyways. Other stuff in the works is I've also been sitting on The Mystery Oneshot since fucking august because trying to get these hooligans Into My House for dnd is like herding cats, which is actually going to be very interesting once I can harass them into Giving Me Characters. I'm going to start showing up to houses with a nerf gun and holding people hostage. Veggitales is also working on a cyberpunk themed campaign, for which I have this half elf kid (he's 16) who is going to react like a startled animal if any of the party ever tries to show even a modicum of care for this guy. he's a warlock and the patron is Me, patron benefits include Whatever I can convince the DM to Let Me Do, I get to do. I can also provide information in the least helpful way possible, either by deciding the outcome of coin tosses/dice rolls in universe, or sending emoji strings. I cannot communicate using words I can only speak with emojis due to the chaos of How this guy became a warlock. Look. Magic is wifi and Orion dug too far into the internet trying to add fun emojis to his phone. he found god who went "👀👀👀 oh you're a silly little guy hold on come back I'm going to help you now :)" and won't stop texting him.

I'm also kind of working on a superhero campaign for if my online friends want to try doing dnd but that's more recent and I have no clear thoughts on What Exactly is happening yet. I'm goign to bully them into telling me what role they want first and then decide based on that how I'm going to drag them into cooperation

if you have any questions on anything mentioned above. please send another ask I will go into detail.

[cringecompanionapologist]

Turlough and the Earthlink Dilemma: Chapter 3

This one's called Trio because a third important character shows up at the end.

Turlough and Juras test their time machine, though it doesn't appear to be working. They're also still arguing about the secret work they've been doing. Juras explains that Rehctaht wanting to build some kind of gravity control thing. Trion has a bit of a history with gravity tech for Tractator reasons. This would apparently be a gravity time machine, which wouldn't have worked probably.

There's something kinda interesting to this. Rehctaht wanted to take control of time with a dynasty of artificially bred children. This book was written in 1986, before the VNAs added the whole loom thing, but...Rehctaht's trying to be Rassilon. She wanted to loom her own set of Trion Time Lords. But, because this story is from before most of the Gallifrey lore this parallels, it's probably a complete coincidence.

Now, if Rehctaht hated the Imperial Clans, why did she want Juras, an Imperial Clanswoman, doing her science research. This is a side effect of the Imperial Clans existing in the first place. They were the scientists. The only scientists. The other Trions didn't have much knowledge of science and technology, because all the scientists were from the Imperial Clans. So, Rehctaht couldn't have just picked regular Trions completely loyal to her to build her gravity/time machine.

Anyway, Turlough's new time machine doesn't appear to be working and they decide to stop by the planet Regal for supplies and to not be in space for a while. The Trions have something of an empire and Regal is one of their planets, though I don't think it's a Trion colony. It's just some other random planet that was interested in Trion technology, leading to the Trions teaching them how to manufacture it. Mostly to mine their own planet for the necessary resources. So children of the Imperial Clans take field trips to Regal to see the industrial results of Imperial intelligence.

The Regalans work hard and live hard, but the Trion researchers get most of the credit. So there's that classism that caused a revolution then.

I'll say that it doesn't feel quite as bad as the real world stuff you can compare it do. That's because it's not quite capitalist. The Imperial Clans do stuff. They don't just own the materials that other people are paid to use to make stuff on their behalf. It's kind of like comparing computer programmers to the people who make the physical computer parts. The Trion system merges the role of the programmer with the role of the tech company ceo, so they're a bit more than just bosses. It still kinda sucks though.

But what really sucks is that when Turlough and Juras arrive at Regal, there are no signs of life anywhere. The space stations orbiting the planet are gone. When they land on the planet, they're in a desert.

After looking around a little and being attacked by strange, extremely violent, birds, birds that appeared completely out of nowhere, they find a nice humanoid to explain what the fuck is going on.

Though he won't be properly introduced until later, this is The Magician. From the wacky dress sense and title instead of a name, you can guess that he's a Time Lord. Here is an unknown artist's impression (I have no idea who drew this I'm sorry):

Yeah, it's those Doctor Who RPGs, this is a nonofficial EU one. But now we have this eccentric Time Lord who appears slightly older than Turlough, sort of like the Fifth Doctor. The Magician is mostly here because this Doctor Who novel wasn't allowed to have Doctor Who in it. He's not an incarnation of the Doctor. Just another Time Lord, probably a renegade based on the Title Instead of a Name thing. So Turlough is apparently just a magnet for young-looking renegade Time Lords.

Pretending to just be some random hermit living in a cave, the Magician explains that travelers are rare on Regal these days.

By "eaten", he meant that all the minerals were mined. The Regalans used up all their resources and then abandoned the planet. This wasn't even close to happening when Turlough last visited Regal and the Magician claims it happened thousands of years ago. He shows them what it used to look like through a sort of screen in a rock. Remember that time travel television thing from The Chase? I think it's supposed to be that sort of thing.

So, I said that the time machine didn't appear to be working. Turns out it actually was. Turlough and Juras immediately run back to the ship to discuss wtf just happened while the friendly cave hermit they just met acts all sinister once their backs are turned.

So the strange bird attacks from nowhere were apparently the Magician...

Despite how bad this all looks, the Magician isn't actually evil. He's just not quite as good as the Doctor and often not particularly helpful. Once we meet him again, perhaps he'll explain himself.

Though the fact that a Time Lord clearly now knows that Turlough can time travel could also become a problem.

[kael-writ]

I love Beetlejuice stories but the canon lore (for both film and musical separately) is so inconsistent (if that's the word) it bothers me when Im thinking too hard about it. Especially if you included deleted material.

I'm not gonna include the show, gotta rewatch it. I feel like the show is more loosey goosey, he's just a cartoon demon in the netherworld who can come into our world as I recall.

(CW for stuff that's in the show like suicide, parent death, and child marriage).

Beetlejuice is an expert scarer, who loves to scare, but he's mostly invisible and doesn't actually seem to get many opportunities to scare. In both the film but especially the musical.

In the musical, he needs the dead to get the living to say his name in order to be visible to the living. With the exception (as in the movie) of the strange and unusual Lydia.

In the musical he is stuck in the house, and in a demo song he's literally been there since it was a cave.

(but also is at Emily's funeral in the cemetery so...)

(... also it is a fourth wall break but he kinda knows the future, the Maitlands are gonna die)

In the movie, by contrast it says he travels and lived the Black Plague (I had a pretty good time during that!), that implies that was when he was actually alive.

In both movie and musical he calls himself a dead guy.

In the musical he also calls himself a demon straight from hell and his Mom a demon. It seems ambiguous. His mom, who is a Boss in the netherworld, is also eaten by a sand worm that "eats ghosts". Could he be half-Demon?

In the movie, btw, the realm of sandworms is referred to as "Saturn". Saturn was a god of time, and Beetlegeuse is a star (just like Beetlejuice is!), the name comes from the Arabic name for it's position in what the West calls the Orion constellation (the hand of the central one). Orion in Greek mythology was a hunter who was a pretty bad guy.

In the movie it seems Beetlegeuse has to be summoned to scare the living, and certainly he can be un-summoned. It seems like he is somehow bound to the model, when he is un-summoned he returns there until summoned.

(Again, In the musical he can't scare the living until the dead make them say his name, he's invisible. In the demo he is still able to scare people sometimes though.)

Movie Juno says he's been "sleezing around your (model) cemetery". It seems like he's chosen that place. Since he is an "illegal alien" he has come from the netherworld, but he isn't supposed to have escaped. Yet Juno doesn't even bother trying to take him back. No reason given why. Despite him having been her assistant she almost seems scared of him. She also says "and you let Beetlegeuse out, and didn't put him back."

He's actually shown in his first scene in the film as being in the dirt below the house when he sees the obituary, looking for some newly deads to trick. So it seems like he's been running this racket for a while. Juno says he caused trouble as her assistant, went out on his own, got in more trouble... aand here we are.

The nature of the afterlife is bleak and kind of mysterious. In the movie, it's run by a terrible social service department with no hint of gods or heaven/hell. Death looks different for everyone, and the Maitlands are sentenced to stay in their house for 120 years. Exorcised ghosts stay in a horrifying void.

In the musical, it's even bleaker but less mysterious. You are supposed to go to the netherworld, haunting is a fluke (like not getting your book) or rebellion. Everyone is alone in a numb void, and they wish they were still alive. There are also no gods shown, though there are references to God/Satan but no confirmation BJ knows they exist.

The marriage pact makes some sense to me as old fairytale stuff. (Like the name 3 times does. Note also the knock 3 times).

In the musical getting married to a mortal makes him come back alive, in the movie it means he can stay on Earth.

Why god why couldnt Musical Beetlejuice propose to marry Delia or even one of the dudes? Possibly because Lydia "can see him" in a way others can't, or because Delia is engaged, or maybe he just didn't really think about it. Or maybe for the same reason a real man would marry a kid, because he knows he can easily manipulate her (as he has). It's "a green card thing" and "strictly business" but acknowledged as fucked up in a way that is meant to keep Mr. Juice at least a little potentially still sympathetic as we need him to be in the realm of a musical character like him. I think the way they handled it works, personally. The song "Creepy Old Guy" really works for me because it makes me feel, well, seen. It does suck to grow up being leered at from puberty and a lot of people don't acknowledge that. I like that it mocks the presumed mentality of creepy old guys who think girls are "secretly just shy". And it all turns into a trick on him, I just think it works surprisingly well for a really difficult tightrope act there. Helps that the show asks the audience to not worry too much about analyzing if something is problematic, "I know you're woke but you can take a joke". Sometimes it's ok to be like, "yea some of the jokes are problematic but Beetlejuice isnt supposed to be a good guy who is PC." So all that, ok But STILL. It's kinda a plothole that no one considers he could marry someone who isnt lydia and is an adult, like Delia (or again in 2023 one of the guys). It's not like they don't depart from the source material, but in the movie Delia and Charles are married.

Why did Delia keep the wedding clothes for over 3 months? That seems inconsistent with her character and behavior of finding them "ugh" (love the noise she makes) and tossing everything.

It also seems dissonant to me why movie Lydia is a gothy teen who likes the boring old house.

Were the musical Maitlands locked in the attic by BJ later or choosing to stay there?

I think I would prefer a beetlejuice who isnt trapped in a house for centuries unable to be seen, I like the idea of him having more power.

How did he gain and lose power over his undeath, anyway, especially the movie one? Being able to scare so well and physically effect people and yet having to be stubborn?

Random Thoughts:

- I ship Musical Adam and BJ and that's a problematic ship bc BJ is just sexually harassing and assaulting Adam, which is supposed to make it less bad that he does it to Babs I guess? I frankly did laugh about his behavior in this regard, and I acknowledge some people would be rightfully upset about it, I get like that with those jokes too, not sure why it works for me and Im not a paragon of virtue.

- Honestly part of why villains like BJ are compelling is because we all can have a bit of villain in us, as BJ tells the Maitlands. Im kinda a huge goody two shoes but Ive also been drawn to Bad Boys and shit.

- Musical BJ (lol BJ tho) is a story about toxic relationships. He's so lonely and needy and he will hurt anyone who rejects him even a little. And when people like me have been in toxic relationships, we liked and loved that person. Fantasies are not always virtuous or portraying smart decisions, often they're not. I don't actually think murder is good, but I like action movies and violent video games. It has to be done the right way for me, but I can enjoy the character of Beetlejuice the way I can enjoy the Always Sunny gang when in real life they would be condemned.

- Beetle has not been laid in 600 years. That means he got laid after his death.

- BJ being a civil servant implies suicide. There were some early drafts specifying this, but it's unknown in the film.

- I really love the "power of names" theme a lot.

- There's something about the jokes - a lot of them could be called "not funny" in both the sense that they're cliche/cheesy/corny, lowbrow, and also often offensive but I, we, enjoy it so much. I think it has a lot to do with the delivery.

- the larger than life cartoony clownishness of it, which made it such a natural for both a kid's show (with obvious changes needed) and musical, is just so delightful to me. The very hammy performances, chef's kiss. And BJ breaking the fourth wall in the musical is awesome and provides awesome audience interaction which is so great in theater.

- the teenagerness of Lydia, especially in the musical, is great. It's great that she can be "I was an asshole - no, you were a teenager" as the demo says. Scaring people with a demon, for example.

- the anti-suicide messages get me every time as someone who had chronic suicide ideation and attempts for decades. Death doesn't make it any easier. No, you'll just be dead. It might not have reached me at the time because I just wanted to end the pain and not exist but in retrospect Im nodding along and tearing up.

- The addition of the Dead Mom in the musical is great and genuinely made me cry. I like movie Lydia as a mostly dark comedy (imo) character but musical Lydia is so emotionally compelling.

- I am a movie Delia apologist, her art is good and she's a fun decent person.

I could probably go on but dude this is soooo long. Id also interested to see what others found inconsistent or confusing or whatever. And other thoughts and stuff you disagree with respectfully.

[innytoes]

If you don't mind me sending another one, JatP flight crew AU?

-Alex and Luke are the pilots. Luke has been banned from going on comms several times because he keeps singing. "I told them 'this is your captain singing', so it's fine!" It is not, stop that Luke.

-Willie and Reggie work as stewards. Willie is the one who does the safety brief and makes jokes like 'if you try to make a phone call while we're in the air, we're going to ask you to step outside'.

-Reggie is the one who looks after any unaccompanied minors, because he's great with kids.

-Willie is the one who keeps an eye out for people freaking out and tells them all about his boyfriend who is also scared of planes but got over it with statistics about how you're more likely to die by cow or toaster.

-Not everyone appreciates Willie's Death Statistics, that's usually when Reggie swoops in.

-Alex: Stop telling people I'm scared of flying.

(He is still a liiiittle scared of flying unless he's the one flying the plane.)

-Luke is the only person on the crew who actually likes airplane food.

-There has been at least one time, possibly while Alex and Willie weren't working but both on a flight back home, that they uhhh, joined the mile high club. The flight was nearly empty okay and it wasn't like they used the cockpit.

-Julie is an up and coming celebrity who refuses to go the whole Private Jet route because it would make Carlos judge her and she's seen how ruthless his memes can be. (Also he has like 25 years of backlogged blackmail material.) She still feels a little over the top just flying first class, but the label is paying, soooo...

-The big fashionable sunglasses Flynn bought her, and the fact that she usually just throws her hair in a bun and wears Un-Celebrity Clothes keep her incognito most of the time.

-Reggie compliments her on her smiley sweatshirt the first time she flies with their airline, and they kind of flirt back and forth a little.

-Willie totally knows who Julie is and thinks Reggie does too.

-When the plane hits some turbulence, Willie's You're More Likely To Die Crossing The Street speech is not working for Julie so she tries humming instead, and Reggie shoos Willie to terrorise the Karens in the back who think now is the best time to walk around.

-He sits with Julie and is like: Hey I know that song! And quietly sings to her.

-He has no idea that it's Julie's own song, and she kind of loves him, and they duet until the turbulence has subsided.

-Reggie still has no clue until Alex sends him a YOU'RE VIRAL ON TIKTOK!!!1!!! video. Because 'hot flight attendant duets with pop star' is apparently excellent clickbait.

-Reggie asks if he can have his name tag changed to Hot Flight Attendant. Their boss says no. Willie goes out and gets two patches made anyway to wear off the job.

-"Yes of course I've got one for me too, have you seen me, Reginald?"

-Luke has never been more jealous. Especially because he KNOWS who Julie is an loves her lyrics and stuff.

-The next time Julie flies with them Reggie is all shy like: sorry, I didn't know who you were, but our pilot basically threw a jealous fit, I'm sorry if I've been bothering you, it's not because you're famous it's just that you're really cute and oh god I'll stop talking now.

-Julie is of course delighted and suggests that they all go to karaoke together some time. And maybe beforehand, she and Reggie can go grab a bite to eat somewhere.

-Willie after the plane is empty, over the intercom: attention all flight crew, Reggie somehow managed to get us a karaoke night with Grammy award winning star Julie Molina.

-Reggie's in the back of the plane cleaning the toilets but he still hears Luke's screams of joy.

[frosteee-variation]

WAIT. WHO IS MISS DIRECTION

my friend you do not know the can of worms that you have opened with those five words alone

I typed up a full explanation before my tumblr crashed because there was so much I put

hang on okay

okay. okay. okay. missy. miss direction. miss interpretation. miss ellaneous. my beloved. my loathed. my cringefail girlboss miss direction.

upon the second time typing this I realize that it’d probably be much quicker for me to get past the context

OKAY TL;DR my friends and I are part of this campaign in a system called Anime Campaign which is also tied to the series Epithet Erased and we’ve been obsessing over it for about three years now even though nothing has actually started yet.

basically, some people have these things called Epithets and they’re random words tied to a person that lets them do cool stuff, yeah. like, someone in the campaign has Project as an Epithet. she can like, make film-style projections that come to life. it’s very cool!!

So Missy. Missy. Missy is my character. She originally started off as a silly evil NPC the first time we tried to start a campaign but I grew attached and started playing her as a PC in this one. Her Epithet is Concept. There’s a whole lot of complicated nuance surrounding how it actually works but bottom line is she can make things act like other things if people believe that, conceptually, the two things are one in the same. Like making plastic money act like real money, which is something she definitely does not do frequently she is a very honest person and not at all scamming people what are you talking about.

So she was silly!! She was so so silly!!! Basically played up the goon bit of “yeah boss” and all that. She was also a massive theater nerd, and made an active effort to ensure that literally nobody could forget that she was an actor and she knew several plays and shit. So when the most recent attempt at starting a campaign came around, I started thinking to myself, “hm. yeah, missy’s funny… but why is she funny?”

worst mistake of my life (/j)

So. Miss Direction (not her actual name) was an actor. Or she was learning to be an actor, at least. Absolutely loved the stage. And she was a really charming person, too!! But then for reasons I SADLY CANNOT ELABORATE ON HERE BECAUSE I KNOW THE PEOPLE WHO ARE IN THAT CAMPAIGN ARE FOLLOWING ME AND WE’RE PLANNING ON KEEPING THE MAIN BITS OF OUR BACKSTORIES SECRET she eventually booked it halfway across the country to this coastal city, Gallenset Gulf.

And she’s like “hhhhhouGHGGGGGHFUCK my life is RUINED” because of said nondescript Horrors™️ in her backstory that I cannot elaborate on and she’s kind of like. Not doing good. At all. She’s really shaken by the whole thing. Like it’s bad. She basically comes to the conclusion that she’s a horrible person for leaving and eventually gets roped into working for these small time criminals because (because of The Horrors™️) she’s technically a wanted criminal herself now.

So she works for them for a while, until she gets noticed by this woman named Ritz. K. Ritz, to be exact. Terrifying woman. Has a lot of “Hell” symbolism surrounding her for obvious reasons. You know the hound thing? The hound thing I mentioned in the last post? This is where that comes in. Hounds of hell, dogs of war, however you cut it. Ritz basically looks at this pathetic woman and goes “yeah, you know that stuff you said about you being horrible? You’re right. You’re totally evil. Like, holy shit, you’re bad. I’m worse though, so why don’t you work for me and you can go be a lot more honest with yourself.” AND IT WORKS.

After that, she ends up developing this whole brand around herself and takes up the Miss Direction moniker. She does some freelance work as a henchperson for a while and plays up the “VERY EVIL” gimmick to get more business and gets fairly far because she treats it more like a show, than anything. And she’s cunning, too! Really smart!! Absolutely PERFECT hitman material!

Right now, she’s basically easing off the gas and taking a bit of a breather by the time the campaign starts. Most of her attention has gone towards her startup (HenchPeople Incorporated, or H.I.P. for short because she’s a bad guy and doesn’t listen to the rules of acronyms) and she’s absolutely horrible and I love her so so so much.

She’s a dog person. She sings while she works. She failed to intimidate a kid one time and said kid turned around with a nat 20 and completely and utterly disgraced her. She constantly changes her name. Her jacket is this weird fucking white trenchcoat with baroque trim for some reason. She has an irrational hatred of Julius Caesar (the show). I absolutely adore her

[wri0thesley]

A Well Rounded Education (2): Grading Boundaries (Fem!Reader x Nanami Kento, 7.5k)

series synopsis: You are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. Gojo does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: the father of one of your students requested a meeting to ask about ways of improving his son’s grades. after working with him for a few weeks, nanami wants to thank you for helping yuji out in his own personal way. 

NSFW. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. oral sex (male on female and female on male), massage, nanami is just a gentleman after toji tbh.

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation)

1.

You oversleep the next morning and for the first time since beginning your work as Gojo’s teaching aid, the other man is at his desk before you manage to rush into the classroom. He’s relaxed, arms behind his head, feet up on the desk – and when he sees you, he gives you a cheery wave and a grin.

“Found this on the floor this morning!” He says to you, using his thumb to flip you something small and round that you only manage to catch through sheer dumb luck. You stare down at the thing you’re cradling in your palm; one of the round buttons from your blouse, that you guess you missed after Toji had left and you’d had to try and pull yourself together.

““S-sorry about that,” you babble, your mind working eighty miles a minute to think of a proper excuse. “I-it got caught on my jacket when I was getting ready to leave last night, I wondered where it had gotten to--”

“How’d the meeting with Tsumiki go?”

“Huh?” You ask, blinking down at the button still, trying to fight the heat that is crawling up your face as you shove the accusing object into the pocket of your neatly tailored jacket. “Oh! It wasn’t Tsumiki. It was Mr Fushiguro, actually. M-Megumi’s father?”

There’s a pause in the air, almost as if it’s rippling with tension. When you look up, Gojo is staring at you, his eyes implacable behind dark lenses.

“I see,” he says. “That’s unusual.”

“I gave him all the paperwork, explained the probation and everything,” you hurry to say, almost tripping over your words. You don’t like the way he’s staring at you, and you find yourself shifting from foot to foot, hoping you don’t look like someone who let their student’s father rail you over their boss’ desk. “Megumi’ll be back in school next week, and hopefully nothing like this will happen again--”

“Mm,” Gojo says. You’ve never heard him sound that serious before, ignoring the chance to poke a little fun. His voice usually pitches and modulates, laughing, before he cracks some kind of inane joke that makes you and half the class wince. “I’ve got a meeting tonight, by the way. I was hoping you’d sit in with me.”

“Please don’t palm off more of your dirty work on me,” you say to him, as you go over to your own little makeshift table in the corner of your room and begin to rifle through your bag for the things you’ll need for the day. “To-- Mr Fushiguro was kind of scary, honestly.”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that!” Gojo waves your worries away with a hand, immediately dismissing it. “No, it’s Yuji’s dad – he wants to talk about his grades, I think? I said I don’t think it really matters, and he got really quiet and kind of angry on the phone with me.” Gojo shrugs. Of course Gojo said something like that. You’re not sure Gojo himself has ever worried about something in his life. “Honestly, he’s a. . . businessman type. Very serious! I just want someone to diffuse the tension a bit!” Gojo grins at you. “So you’re my human shield!”

Right.

Far be it for you to think that Gojo might have an educational reason for wanting you to sit in on this meeting. Still . . . you really like Yuji. You know that sometimes his inability to understand things frustrates him – he’s constant energy, and his mind just can’t keep up with the pace of the rest of him. You’d like to help where you can! And you know that Gojo’s probably not going to be able to offer any helpful advice – his classes might work for some kids, and Yuji does really like him, but that’s a boy who would probably benefit from some individualised attention and someone a little quieter.

You don’t like the idea of him with a father who pushes him academically and doesn’t care about his other achievements. Biting your lip, you nod, busying yourself with laying out the pens on your desk and flicking through one of your training books to see if there’s anything about meetings with parents. This one, you think and hope, is definitely not going to end up the same way yesterday’s meeting did.

There’s a kind of nervous energy in Yuji all day. He drops his pen, he shoots you agonised looks until you come over to check his work, and as everyone is milling out to go to lunch, he comes to stand in front of you, kicking his toe on the floor. You smile at him, seeing how he’s vibrating, rocking on the balls of his feet – hoping that the smile might at least calm him down some.

“My Dad’s meeting with Mr Gojo tonight,” Yuji eventually blurts. Without Megumi in class to tamper down some of his more bombastic nature, Yuji’s voice pitches and wavers. “I’m-- Mr Gojo doesn’t care about grades, but my Dad’s like, ‘you should apply yourself more, you have it in you’ and . . . and I guess I’m worried?” He brings a finger to his chin, dwelling on the thought. The way he says it, it’s almost like he’s not usually aware of the idea of ‘worry’ – oh, to be a twelve year old boy!

“I know,” you say, after a proper time has elapsed to make Yuji think you’ve really dwelt on the situation. You reach into your own bag to pull out the carefully prepared lunch you have in there – you could go to the staff-room, but honestly, you’re still feeling a bit wobbly after last night’s events and you don’t want to go around into the hum of people who’ll gather you up into bubbles of small talk. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m sitting in on the meeting too.” You hope your smile is reassuring. “It’s not going to be all doom and gloom, I promise.”

That actually . . . does seem to soothe Yuji.

“My grades are really bad,” he says. “I just . . . I’m not smart, y’know? Megumi knows all this stuff, and I’m just . . . dumb.”

“Being good at school stuff isn’t everything,” you say to Yuji. “You’ve got your own talents. Look at you on the sports field!” He blushes in the way young boys do when they’re being complimented by anybody, a kind of awkward ‘oh, shucks, don’t make me think that I’m good at anything’. You smile. “I’m sure your Dad understands that too.”

“Oh, he does!” Yuji’s eyes widen. You feel a little lock around your chest loosen, just a bit. There’s hero worship clear in Yuji’s eyes now. “He just thinks I should live up to my . . . what’s he call it? Full potential!” He twists his lip, and then leans in, conspiratorially. “He doesn’t like Mr Gojo. He doesn’t think he’s serious.”

Despite yourself, your lips curve into a smile. You aren’t going to trash talk your colleague to a kid that you’re in charge of, but all of the other staff just seem to roll their eyes and let Satoru Gojo get on with whatever he’s doing because apparently he was a prodigy at college or something. It’s nice to know at least someone is on your side, even if you’ll hopefully only ever see him once or twice during your whole year here.

“Don’t worry,” you say to Yuji. “I’ll try and handle it. Now, you should go! All the other boys look like they’re about to play a game of football--”

Yuji’s eyes brighten and he grins, turning away immediately, mind quickly flitting to something more pressing. He shouts a goodbye and a thank you to you even as he’s racing out of the door, almost too fast to be believed.

2.

Kento Nanami (Itadori is his ex-wife’s name, he tells you with a sigh, but the name that Yuji was born with and he’s reluctant to have it changed) is very obviously a businessman, in a well-pressed grey suit and a navy shirt, a yellow tie tight to his throat. He’s wearing suspenders beneath the jacket, an expensive watch on his wrist, and a pair of small glasses perched on a sharp nose. A solemn face, sculpted jaw. He has cheekbones that you think could cut fucking diamonds into pieces, a wave of carefully styled blonde hair over a proud forehead--

What the fuck is going on at this school that it seems like all of the dads are so hot? You do your level best not to look at him too much, as Gojo introduces you and he shakes your hand. He looks at you with his eyes narrowed just a touch; you think he’s trying to get the measure of you, and whether you’re just going to be here to back up Gojo. There’s an air of tiredness to this man that suggests he will not take any of your colleague’s nonsense, and that thought bolsters you when he puts down his briefcase and neatly folds his hands on his lap, looking from you to Gojo.

“I want to talk about Yuji’s grades,” he says, “and how we can help him improve them.”

You like him already. The way he says ‘we’ instead of ‘you’ – the withering gaze that he sets on Gojo, as the white-haired man stretches his arms out above him.

“I told you on the phone,” Gojo says. “They’re just grades--”

“Grades that will follow Yuji throughout his career in this school, and eventually to high school, and eventually to college,” Nanami’s voice is very sure of itself, cutting through Gojo with ease. “I just want to ensure that he has the best chance possible. I want to make sure he’s living up to himself.”

Gojo – fucking Gojo – stifles a yawn behind his hand, and you see that Nanami’s hand flexes on his thigh (wow, his hands are big). You cut across before the two of them can come to blows.

“Yuji’s a bright boy,” you say. “He just needs . . . a little extra help. Someone to sit with him and explain what’s going on, maybe just go over the material again.” You give Nanami a nervous smile. “He’s not the only one in the class, honestly. I-- Mr Gojo’s teaching methods can be--”

“Innovative—” (Gojo says).

“Erratic—” (Nanami says).

“Unusual,” you decide on, in the end, “and not every child is going to thrive.”

“He won’t let me ask them to move into Miss Utahime’s class,” Nanami says, wearily. “Yuji is very fond of Mr Gojo.”

(You know that, and so does Gojo; the white-haired man gives a cocky grin to both of you).

“I enjoy teaching Yuji,” you say. “He’s good-hearted, enthusiastic – he throws himself into everything he does.” Nanami’s tired eyes seem to brighten behind the glasses at the compliment to his son, his lips lifting at the corners in the briefest twitch of a smile.

“He does,” Nanami says, and it’s clear from his tone that he’s very proud of Yuji. You feel bad for thinking he might be the kind of pushy, demanding father that you’d been warned you may encounter in this profession. With Nanami in front of you, it’s clear he just wants the best for Yuji and is concerned that Gojo might not be that ‘best’. You can’t blame him. You often think Gojo behaves more like a child than half of the kids in the class. “Yes, those are all of his best qualities.”

You nervously shift your gaze to Gojo, who is waiting for your next move.

“I’d be happy to work with him,” you say, eventually. “Maybe set up some kind of . . . drop-in, for students having trouble with the work, over free periods? I won’t make them, of course, but . . . I think my methods and Mr Gojo’s are very different, Sir.”

Nanami’s shoulders relax just a touch. He stands, nodding, taking your hand to shake it.

“I don’t doubt it, Miss,” he says – and as he touches you, a frisson of electricity seems to pass between the two of you. His hands are big and surprisingly soft, and as he grasps your hand you can suddenly sense strength behind the grasp. You hope that your surprise doesn’t register in your face, as he turns and inclines his head slightly at Gojo (Gojo does not get a handshake, you do not fail to notice).

“I hope that it helps,” Nanami says, as he leaves. And honestly . . . you do too.

3.

Nanami asks to schedule a meeting with you, two weeks after you’ve begun working with some of the lower-achieving children in the class. Yuji’s grades have been improving, slowly and steadily – the boy looking at you with a grin when tests are handed back with letters far higher up in the alphabet than he’s used to getting.

“Ah, I can leave you to deal with that one,” Gojo says, grinning at you when he hears about it. “You’re the one working miracles, after all! I think Mr Nanami would just be displeased to see me sat with you, and I’m not gonna complain about not having to deal with a guy like that!”

You’re inclined to agree. So you watch Gojo leave that afternoon blithely, like he hasn’t got a care in the world – his bag is full of essays that need to be marked over the weekend, but somehow you think you’ll have a stack pressed into your own hands on Monday morning, more than a little crumpled, as Gojo insists you should get used to doing some marking yourself.

You wait for Nanami with your head in a book, steadfastly ignoring Gojo’s desk and sitting by your own table in the corner of the classroom instead. Last time you were alone with a student’s father in this room, you got to know that desk far too intimately.

Nanami is exactly on time, the second hand of the clock just ticking past the twelve as he knocks on the door and you call for him to come in. Gojo does have an office, and he’s said you can use that if you want – but the few times you’ve been in Gojo’s office, you’ve been overwhelmed by the chaotic mess that the man surrounds himself with. The classroom, if nothing else, at least looks peaceful.

Nanami sits across your table, well-mannered and polite, as you put your book down and smile.

“You wanted to talk about how Yuji’s doing?” You ask him. “It’s only been two weeks, but I think we can already see quite a bit of improvement--”

“Yes,” he says. “I think we can.”

Nanami does not heap you with praise; you get the impression that he’s not the kind of man who heaps anybody with praise. You get the impression he’s the kind of man who gives you an approving look, a pat on the shoulder, a nod – you find that you’re craving that approval yourself, looking at him across from you.

“I look at his homework sometimes,” Nanami says. “He’s getting a lot more of it himself, now. Not pulling his hair out at the dining table. You’re . . . you’re really doing a very good job, you know.”

Your insides fizz at the compliment. Gojo doesn’t give them out, either – but you’re the kind of person who occasionally needs to be told they’re doing the right thing, in order to motivate them to carry on. Nanami’s compliment carries a weight in your heart that lodges there like a secret.

You can’t remember the last time someone said you were doing a good job.

You and Nanami talk through the grading rubric, the other topics that are set to be covered before the end of term – how you’re trying to get Gojo to be a little more academic in his lessons, but it’s not working. You mention that lots of the other kids seem to be thriving under having a chance to go back over the material that your mentor occasionally skips and side-steps around, imparting his knowledge in his own particular way. Thoughts of Gojo make your mind swim with fatigue.

You hadn’t realised, until you started talking about it, but you also can’t remember your mind not being consumed by thoughts of your work at any point in the last few weeks. You’re always worrying about something; your mind always rushing from one possible bad outcome to the next. The kids, your training, Gojo, the school, the heavy weight of choosing a career where the next generation depends on you--

“You look tired,” Nanami says, his face twisted in sympathy. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”

You haven’t, really – thoughts of the class, and your work, and whether you’re even cut out for this as a career have been haunting you more and more recently, as you watch Gojo stumble irresponsibly from day to day. You feel like you get home, do some work for the next day, go to sleep, and immediately go to work again with nothing in between. You look at Nanami, who’s all concern, and you know you shouldn’t, but--

“I’m just getting stressed from everything happening all at once,” you say, forcing yourself to smile. “I have a lot of assessments coming up, reports I should be writing, reports that are written about me. Ah, those ones-- those are by Mr Gojo--”

“Ahh,” he looks incredibly sympathetic at that one.

“There’s just,” you falter. “A lot. And if I don’t come to work feeling my best and supporting them all, I feel like I’m letting the kids down, but I also just feel kind of bone-weary aching all of the time—”

Nanami’s hand reaches across the table, taking ahold of yours. His palms are warm and rough, and the thumb that rubs soothing circles against the base of your own is comforting. You sigh, eyelids half flickering closed.

“I shouldn’t have said anything to you,” you murmur, the small moment of intimacy (when you’ve spent the last two weeks feeling like you’re lurching from place to place and nobody is paying attention) sending a much-needed hit of comfort to the marrow of your bones. “You shouldn’t have to listen to my problems.”

Nanami’s lips tilt.

“I’d say it’s the least I could do,” he says, drily, “after everything you’ve done for Yuji – and after you’ve had to deal with Mr Gojo.” The look he gives you is quietly private, a shared in-joke between the two of you that makes you smile in response. His response almost makes you forget that he’s touching you, and though the touch is innocuous, you also know it’s unprofessional--

You stare at his hand on yours. It’s the same arm that he wears his expensive wristwatch on, and the sleeve of his suit jacket has ridden up to reveal just a hint of the shape beneath, a prominently veined wrist. Your throat goes dry looking at it, as you think of how strong he had seemed that time he’d shook your hand--

He’s looking at where the two of you are touching, too – a faint spot of red fading in high on his cheekbones. He coughs, awkward, but doesn’t move his hand. He swallows.

“You’re very pretty, you know,” Nanami says, and your body seems to flood with heat. You should say something about how inappropriate that is, thank him for coming to see you and the sweet words he’d said about how you were helping Yuji along, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to do it when he’s looking at you like that. “It sounds very hypocritical coming from me, because anyone who knows me will tell you that I don’t get enough of it myself– but you should rest more. Relax.”

You can imagine him ramrod straight behind a desk, eyes narrowed behind spreadsheets and numbers. You can definitely imagine him tired and drooping, working too hard. You smile again, helplessly, the look apologetic. You’re not very good at things like that.  

“You look stiff,” he says. “Here--”

He stands. You’d forgotten how tall he was, the breadth of him – he unbuttons his jacket neatly, laying it over the back of the chair. Without that, the width of his shoulders is really apparent. You don’t realise you’re staring until he makes a little noise, a ‘hmph’ of amusement, eyes not meeting yours, thumbs unbuttoning his cuffs and pushing the sleeves up to his elbows.

He’s behind you.

“I’ve been told I’m good at this,” he says. “Big hands, I suppose?”

You’re about to ask him what he’s doing when those same big hands are suddenly on your shoulders, the same thumbs that were just rubbing tender circles onto your hand digging into your shoulder-blades in a massage that you feel down to your toes. You don’t realise you’ve let out a noise and relaxed back into the massage until Nanami lets out a low hum that you think is mirth.

The noise you make as he works out that persistent knot in the back of your neck is near-on pornographic, and both of you know it – heat rushing to your face, Nanami clearing his throat. If somebody walking by had heard that – if they came into the classroom, to see you getting a massage from Yuji’s father--

How do you keep getting into these situations? Nobody warned you about this part of working in a school. Why do his hands feel so fucking good on you, fingers digging into your skin – you moan again, rolling back into his touch.

There’s a clipped quality to his voice when he speaks;

“Wait a second.” Your eyes flutter open as his hands leave you, watching in distress as he walks to the door. If you’re expecting him to leave, you’re surprised when what actually happens is that he twists the lock, so nobody can walk in on the two of you doing something so. . . incongruous with both the classroom around you and the knowledge of what exactly the relationship between you is.

He gives you another one of those half-smiles and you feel a familiar throb in your lower half. Oh, this is unfair – he’s so handsome, so unruffled, so gentle as he takes back his position behind you and touches you again.

“This would feel better on your bare skin,” he murmurs, the words ghosting along you as a politely worded request, and obediently your fingers deftly unbutton your blouse without hesitation. This time, you’re glad that there’s no clatter of lost buttons on the floor – this time, you’re able to push it off your shoulders yourself. Nanami sighs as you let the fabric drop, pooling behind you in a crumpled mess. One of his fingertips traces your spine, raising gooseflesh on the sensitive skin.

“Don’t you have someone at home to do this for you?” He asks, voice soft and low like velvet, as he kneads the skin, tension draining out of you more and more with each passing minute. The question is worded carefully, but both of you know what he’s asking.

“Just me,” you say, as his hands slide forward, thumbs digging into your shoulders but fingers resting over your collarbone, his hands so big on you.

“Pity,” Nanami breathes, but it doesn’t sound like he’s particularly unhappy about it. Your breath catches as he moves from your shoulders, further, further, fingertips brushing the swell of your breast in your (sensible, today) bra. He leans forward, his lips against the shell of your ear. “You can tell me to stop if you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to,” you find yourself saying, and his thin lips curve into a smile that you feel.

“I’m glad,” he murmurs – and then, fingers diving beneath the cups of the bra, kneading the soft flesh, the plush of your  body. You’re relaxing bonelessly into his touch when one finger brushes your nipple, sending a frisson of electricity right to the place between your thighs. Your bra straps are slipped off your shoulders, a slight lean forward so he can unclip the thing and let it fall onto the ground. Nanami sighs, almost reverent – when he moves his hand from your chest, you feel their absence keenly, a soft noise of dismay escaping you.

“Pull your chair out,” he says. You do; the legs scraping across the floor. Nanami himself moves so he’s no longer behind you, coming around to the front – casually, unhurriedly lowering himself to his knees in front of you. He reaches up to his face and removes his glasses, laying them neatly on the table to one side of him.

His eyes drink you in and you find your skin prickling with heat. You should be embarrassed; you shouldn’t be here at all, actually, alone in your classroom (again!) with someone’s father (again!), willing to let them look at you and touch you and more (again!). But Nanami reaches in, touching you so gently, fingertips and thumbs delicate as feathers as he strokes over your breast and waist and stomach. As he leans forward and licks a slow, agonising lap over your nipple until it hardens and pebbles, your entire body thrumming with desire. As he sucks it into his mouth, teeth nipping just hard enough at the bud that your body lights on fire, before he kisses a line across your sternum to give the other nipple the same treatment.

He slides his hands past your waist, unbuttoning and unzipping your pencil skirt with one hand, the cotton pulled down over your thighs. Nanami sighs again, cupping your hips, nudging your stockinged knee with his cheek.

“You’re lovely,” he says, affectionate, and it feels so intimate that your heart beats too fast against your chest. “Can I--?” Hands against the sides of your underwear, sliding over you in a way that leaves hot trails of fire behind him. You should be embarrassed that he can clearly see the wet patch, the way the sodden fabric clings to the petals of your sex – but when he’s looking at you like that. . . You can’t make yourself feel it. You nod, sighing, lifting your hips from the seat of the chair to assist in the removal of that particular garment. A light touch on your inner thighs has you spreading your legs further for him, his eyes drinking in the slick folds, the needy glint of your wetness.

He brings his face closer, taking a long breath in, inhaling your scent. The wash of his breath across you on the exhale fans across the length of you, your clit aching with need to be touched, paid attention to. Nanami takes his time, though – your thighs are kissed, first, his lips lingering on the soft skin, suckling gentle love-bites into the flesh. Occasionally, the briefest flash of his teeth, scraping across the sensitive area – always followed by a soothe, a kiss, a lick. Every one of them makes your body bloom into warm needy desire; you can feel how wet you are, know it must be soaking the chair beneath you even before Nanami has used his mouth on you properly.

He huffs out a chuckle as you whine, your hips tilting towards his mouth.

“You want me to use my mouth?” He asks you, his tongue gently lapping at one of the places he’s kissed. “On you, sweetheart?”

“Mm—mmhmm,” you say, breathlessly, not entirely sure that your mind is able to form any coherent sentences with Nanami knelt between your thighs. He places a chaste kiss on the mound above your clit, pulling back.

“Use your words,” he encourages you. There’s a stern dominance to him; coated in fondness, yes, but . . . an order, nonetheless. “I can make you feel so good--”

“Please use your mouth on me,” you whimper, soft as a mouse. Your hand flexes onto the seat of the chair beneath your thighs, and Nanami smiles against your soaking cunt.

“Good girl,” he praises, like liquid honey – and when his tongue finally, finally makes contact with your sex, the other hand has no choice but to curl into his hair as you let out a needy mewl, all of the heat that’s been building up within you since the very first moment you laid eyes on Kento Nanami coming to a point in the crux of his lips and tongue lapping hungrily at your slick.

Your lashes flutter closed, your thighs trembling, as Nanami sates himself on the taste of you, making you relax helplessly into his talented mouth. He knows exactly what he’s doing; the flat, broad strokes against the folds of your cunt, the lower dip of his tongue as he flirts with stretching your hole open with it, the teasing flick of it as it dances, dallies with the idea of your swollen clit.

You can hear the wet sounds of him between your legs, suckling and kissing and licking and lapping – not all of it’s from your slickness, you know, but an embarrassing amount of it is. His tongue pushes into your hole, thrusting a few times, imitating the actions of fingers or cock – and your thighs flex, almost squeezing him between them, your fingers tugging on his hair with a soft squeal of surprise escaping you.

The noise just spurs him on. He fucks you on his tongue for a few more thrusts, before dragging the flat of the muscle through your folds, forcefully parting them (his mouth feels so hot, there), until he can reach the throb of your clit. He uses his tongue to roll the bud, swirling the tip of the muscle around it, drawing patterns over the place that all of your hot, desperate need is concentrated. Your other hand jerks into his hair too, your hips thrusting against his hungry mouth  as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. You almost white out for a minute over the sheer overwhelming sensation of Nanami’s lips sucking on you, the displacement of air – you’re panting out breathy, whimpering noises, Nanami groaning as he edges you further and further towards your peak.

Fingers on your inner thigh. Nanami’s index finger, liberally coating itself in your slick and Nanami’s spit, dragging down the length of you that isn’t currently being utterly ravaged by Nanami’s lips--

He pushes one lone finger into your entrance, and that pushes you over the edge.

Your walls flutter around him, sucking him deeper inside your plush walls. You bite so hard into your lower lip you think that you might bleed, but it only serves to quiet the moan that escapes you by a little. Nanami groans against you, pumping the finger, sucking on your clit, guiding you over the peaks and mounds of your orgasm as he continues to enjoy the taste of you gushing into his mouth, overwhelming with the syrupy sweet stickiness of just how good you taste.

He guides you, too – with careful, slowing licks, lazier pumps – through the weak aftershocks and trembles of your peak, as they come to a slowly twitching halt. Your eyes are glassy, lips swollen from bits, as he places another chaste kiss over your sensitive clit and pulls back. His finger pops out of you with a wet gush that makes you feel so embarrassed at your own neediness you can barely stand it, but between your thighs Nanami is straightening up, a smug glint to his tired eyes.

“There,” he murmurs, standing, drinking in your quivering body, the slick on your thighs, how dark and satisfied your eyes look as you gaze up at him, half-woozy from the pleasure. “Don’t you feel a little more relaxed, now?”

You’re afraid if you speak you will simply slur your words, your tongue feeling unfamiliar in your mouth. You try and focus on Nanami instead – unfairly tranquil, aside from the wet of his chin, the damp spot darkening his collar. He places the finger that was formerly buried inside you into his mouth, the glint of arousal on it consumed by him with a tilt of the head as if he’s savouring the taste.

You can’t help but notice that there’s an outline of something putting pressure on the fabric of his slacks, there, between his thighs – something that looks hard, and stiff, and uncomfortable. You blink at it through a hazy mind as Nanami goes leans over you, gently taking hold of your chin, checking that you’re alright.

“C-can I help with that?” You manage, only a little bit garbled. Nanami’s eyebrows raise in surprise, a light pink flush to his cheeks – what does he take you for? That you’d let him eat you out so well that your toes curl and then just let him leave without seeing to his own issues?

(It’s a confidence boost, honestly – knowing that he’s hard because of you. You know that this isn’t the kind of man who would fuck you on his tongue in his son’s classroom if he didn’t find you attractive, but still . . . Someone like Nanami, with those cheekbones and those lips and those shoulders, wanting somebody like you?)

“I-- ahh--” He seems nervous about it, a little flustered, clearly not expecting you to offer something like that – but then, you raise one hazy hand and gently pet his crotch through the fabric and he whistles through his teeth, the organ giving a welcoming throb beneath your hand. You swallow at how it responds, the size and heat of it.

“Please?” Plump lower lip caught between your teeth. “I’d like to repay the favour.”

He swallows, raising a hand to loosen his tie. You see the bob of his throat as he moves, pulling out the chair he was sat on before, parting his own knees.

“I’d like that,” he says, and that’s all of the encouragement you need to sink from the chair onto your shaking knees, half-crawl towards him until you’re situated between his thighs. Your hands reach up to his waist, undoing his belt buckle carefully. The heat of his cock radiates through the fabric, brushing against your arm as you undo the belt. As you undo the button. As you tug at the zipper, the noise of the teeth indecently loud. He sighs himself, a hand cupping your cheek. “You’re so pretty,” he says, repeating his earlier compliment. His eyes on your face make you feel hot and flushed, the way he watches you eagle-sharp as your smaller hands reach into his underwear to pull out his already hard cock.

He’s not as big as Toji was, but that doesn’t mean he’s not big. His cock is elegant, a light upward curve, the head ruddy pink and slick with precome – and as you lean forward and let your tongue trace the slit of it, as you taste that same precome in your mouth, he groans quietly. He brings the hand not on your cheek up to his mouth to muffle the noise, and you can’t help but pout.

“Please,” you say. “I want to hear you--”

A pause. He drops his hand, taking a chest-deep breath. His fingers slide across the apple of your cheeks – you know he must be able to sense how warm you are, how shameless and brazen you feel.

You give the head of his cock dainty kitten licks, getting used to feel of him – getting used to the soft breaths he keeps making, the way that the hand on your cheek moves to knit into your hair. You know you’re teasing him, but the way he looks down at you like you’re the one doing him a favour has you all giddy and light headed.

You envelope the head in your waiting mouth, tongue messily lapping at it. It’s been a long time since you’ve done something like this – judging from the sigh escaping Nanami’s lips, the light thrust of his hips, though, you’re not doing too bad of a job on it.

You take him a little further, willing your mouth to open wider. Your tongue is still moving against him sloppily – tracing the veins of his shaft, licking fat stripes where you can manage to get it around. You feel a trickle of drool escape your lips as you widen your mouth a bit more, so much you can feel a light ache in your jaw.

“Fuck,” Nanami breathes, deep and ragged. “Fuck, that’s a good girl.”

The praise just eggs you on further, makes you want to take him deeper – makes you want to win more noises said by that dark, low voice. You push too far and have to pull back a little, your makeup smearing (you’re glad you’d foregone a darker lipstick today), your eyes watering. But you’re determined, and after you’ve managed to draw a choked breath around the cock in your mouth, you’re back on it, kissing and sucking and licking as best you can. Every so often, Nanami will groan from above you, his hips jerking, the hand in your hair guiding you just a little to the left. The other hand comes to cradle your face, so tender and careful with you.

“You feel so good,” he says, soft, like he can barely believe where you are. “Your mouth is so good, sweetheart--”

The flat of your tongue is dragged over the slit, his taste flooding your senses. You squeeze your thighs together, the friction thrilling even considering how slick your cunt still is (you’re grateful that your skirt is dark, because you know you must have soaked through your underwear).

His hips are moving more regularly now, but you can tell that he’s still holding back – that he doesn’t want to roughly fuck your throat, though he easily could. You look up at him with your eyes dark and wide, your lashes trembling, trying to get across that it’s alright for him to do that without having to stop hungrily licking and sucking at his cock. He sees your gaze, your lips wrapped around him, your cheeks hollowed in your attempts to impress, and he breathes out a shaking exhale.

“Is it really okay?” He asks you. “I don’t want to hurt you--”

You hum your affirmative around his cock and his eyes roll back into his head for just a moment, groan escaping his parted lips again, as he begins to rock his hips into your mouth. You gag around it at first – so big, so thick, even though he’s not going that fast yet – but as he begins to pick up his pace, your mouth gets used to moving in tandem with his thrusts and the tugs on your hair.

The ache in your jaw begins to be pleasant; you begin to feel like you’re meant to have it open that wide, that the bump of his cockhead against the back of your throat is right and perfect. His face is flushing, his breath getting shaky – whistling in his chest.

His chest. You stare at the bare collar above the buttons of his shirt, the lean shadows of his collarbone – you think, judging by the broadness of his shoulders, he’s probably built beneath there. You’d love to find out. You’d love to be somewhere other than in the classroom with this man, somewhere where you could learn his body by heart, where the floor beneath your knees isn’t quite so hard--

“Fuck,” he hisses, fingers tightening so hard that you groan, your throat vibrating around his cock. “Sweetheart, my good girl, I’m gonna--”

You hear the warning in his voice and you suck harder, swirl your tongue faster, coaxing him forward – his abdomen flexes under the shirt, his cock juddering in your mouth, pulsing as your mouth suddenly fills with the hot, wet, salty and unmistakable taste of Nanami’s come--

You keep sucking. You keep licking, swallowing pump after pump, draining forth every single drop of his release that you can until he’s shuddering and his cock is softening, his head thrown over the back of the chair to reveal the tempting column of his throat.

He’s taking deep breaths, great heaving ones that his shoulders move in time with, as the last few thunderbolts of his release travel through his body and he groans in the pleasured way that someone who has orgasmed their worries away does.

Nanami’s hand in your hair eases, his breaths evening out from the shakes and groans. His fingers are quiet and affectionate, as you pull back, swallowing the final few drops of his release. He looks down at you with those intense eyes half-lidded, his face briefly free of lines and stress and worry. He sighs, hand diving into the jacket still hung on the chair behind him – when the hand emerges, he’s holding a handkerchief, that he brings up to your face like a lover.

Tenderly, he wipes a bead of his come from the corner of your mouth. The action is so warm, so fond, that you can barely breathe for looking up at him. You feel like you’re knelt at some kind of altar – that Nanami had prayed to you, and now you are responding with your own supplication.

“Are you alright?” He asks you. “Your knees? Your mouth?” He’s so gorgeous; unfairly picked out under the classroom lights, like he doesn’t belong here at all. In another world, he’s avenging like an angel with a weapon in his hand. Now, he’s softly rumpled with his shirt unbuttoned and one of his suspenders fallen down his shoulder, his knees spread wide.

“Yes,” you breathe. He smiles again – he does not grin. His mouth is just a light uptilt, as he leans forward and brushes his lips over your own.

“Good girl,” he murmurs again, the words sending another shiver down your spine. “Do you need some help getting dressed?”

You rise onto unsteady legs and Nanami is there, supporting you carefully, rising with you. He rescues your skirt, your bra – deft fingers re-doing buttons, catching eyes with hooks, zipping up until you look – if not immaculate – at least presentable. Someone who had seen you this morning would probably recognise that your skirt is creased and your blouse is crumpled, that your hair is falling around your face--

Nanami’s fingers capture those strands too, tucking them back behind your ear, smoothing them out. Every single sweep and caress of his fingers makes you feel like you’re about to break into pieces from how soft you feel, how cherished. It’s a stark difference to how you had felt after Toji had swung out of your classroom, leaving you prone and leaking his come.

He leaves you, after you’ve regained your balance, to get your bag and coat, to grab the book you had been reading before this meeting had commenced – and he sets himself to rights with a calm, assured aura. If someone looked closely at him, you think perhaps they’d notice the tie not quite as tight, the hair not quite as neatly swept from his brow – you yourself can barely take your eyes off him. Is there something in the water in this town?

He grasps his briefcase, clips his glasses into the top pocket of his suit jacket instead of placing them back on his nose. His entire being seems to have lost tension, his eyes not quite as tired, his shoulders not quite as strained. As he finished, he comes to stand beside you – an arm gallantly curving around your waist just loosely enough that the touch could be read as friendly and not romantic. As the two of you walk across the classroom, he says quietly;

“You really should relax, you know. You don’t have anything to worry about. Yuji adores you, and I’m sure the rest of the children do too.”

(Your cheeks heat, the compliment warm and convincing in the sonorous bass of Nanami’s voice).

“Even Gojo isn’t permanent,” he says. “Anybody would be lucky to end up with you.” A cough. “That’s . . . as a teacher and in other ways.”

He pauses at the door, unlocking it with a final click that feels like he is saying that this little adventure has truly come to its natural end. His eyes linger affectionately on your face, a brief touch of hesitation colouring his features – before, once more, he leans in and brushes his lips against yours with a feather-soft touch that has you gasping in surprise against his mouth. The hand not on the briefcase takes your own hand, fingers entangling, and if you had thought your face was warm before, you’re quickly taught that you didn’t know what heat was.

He draws back a little breathlessly.

“I hope you’ll continue working with Yuji,” he says, sincerely. “And perhaps, if it’s agreeable to you-- perhaps we could schedule a catch-up meeting in a few weeks? So I may see. . . how things are progressing?”

“Of course, Sir,” you say, words very breathy.

When you get home tonight, and probably for the next few weeks, you’ll take a really good look at the grading rubric. You know. For the kids. Not because of Nanami’s sharp cheekbones and wicked tongue and the glint that had been in his eye when he had pressed his mouth against your heated core – not because of how his cock had felt heavy and thick in your mouth, and how it would feel pressed inside of you--

Nope. Not at all.

Definitely for Nanami’s son.

[yourmcu]

Emotional Support Mode

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Summary:

in which the reader is the loner, antisocial daughter of Tony Stark and the other Avengers including her father never acknowledge her presence (they thought some sort of interaction made you uncomfortable) so she becomes friends with Friday instead - Tony probs finds out and it’s gonna be all cute n fluffie once he realizes -

Word count: 2,243

a/n: hi just wanted to write fluffy tony :)) also I used they/them for friday’s pronouns

Warnings: angst n fluff, friday’s a bit more advanced (not like they aren’t already but) bc they could almost act like a literal human here.

read it on ao3!

You arrive back at the Avengers facility, shoulders slumped and just tired in general since you have a lot of homework and projects to do from school, most of them due by the end of the week. You also have exams later in the week.

“Hey, Fri,” you huff as you make your way to the elevator.

“Welcome home, Y/N. Where do you want to go?”

Yes, you're very close with the A.I that they started calling you by your first name. “To my room - and uh, will you remind me to read two chapters in my history book after I’m done with all my homework? I also have this project, I just need some measurements later, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing.”

“Thank you.”

It’s going to be a long night, you sigh heavily just thinking about it. Now you’re probably wondering, ‘you live with the Avengers! Why don’t you ask Tony and Bruce for help? Maybe Steve and Bucky for your History test?’

Yeah, well... you barely talk to any real person you live with. Maybe it’s you, you always thought you're making the team uncomfortable. You don’t even talk to your own father often which is kind of depressing on your part.

You love them, they’re like your extended family, but it just isn’t working out. Maybe they just don’t like you. Up to this day you still wonder why Tony took you in when you were just a baby (you were a mistake from one of his one night stands) - he had the choice not to.

“I’m assuming you zoned out again. You have arrived to your room five minutes ago.” Friday announces.

“Y-yeah sorry,” you shuffle out of the elevator and swiftly head to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“I also asked if I should inform Mr. Stark that you have arrived home.”

“No, no thanks. He’s busy and... probably wouldn’t care anyway,” You mutter the last part as you pile the books you need on your desk. “Can you put my study playlist on, please?”

----

“What time is it, Friday?”

“7PM. I was about to remind you to take a break.”

You get up from your chair and stretch, halfway through the last of your homework which is a two page essay. “You’re too kind, thanks pal,” when you walk out your room to head to the kitchen and grab a snack, the lounge is empty, kitchen empty,

“The team’s on a mission? I thought they had the whole week off,” you say before gulping down a water bottle.

“I checked the security footage: they left about an hour ago. Captain Rogers was talking about getting dinner.”

You put the bottle down. “Oh,” you try to mask your disappointment. This isn’t your first time being alone, they always left you here when they had a mission of course but... well, it’s not like they want you around them. “I’ll - I’ll just make myself something later, then. Not a big deal. I have to study anyway.”

Another hour later, the Avengers are back. They're all conversing happily as they pile in the lounge. Peter's rambling about upgrades for the Spiderman suit while Tony's typing away in his phone, nodding at everything he says. Everyone else is arguing about the TV channels and talking about the new restaurant they ate at.

Rhodey shifts, looking around. “Why do I feel like we forgot something?”

Natasha looks at him, waiting for him to go on.

“I assure you, I brought Mjolnir with me this time.” Thor butts in.

“No not that, what time does Y/N get home from school?” No one answers. It’s not like any of them know. It's natural that Rhodey would be worried about his goddaughter (even if they rarely talk). He turns his head to his best friend who’s now walking away with Peter, an arm around his shoulder. “Tony, where’s Y/N?”

He doesn’t hear since he has his full attention on his protégé.

“I’ll start making this tomorrow, I guess. I still have to buy materials.” You mumble to yourself, but you hope Friday's listening to everything you say just to make you feel less lonely. You swipe the hologram of the blueprint away and place the thick books in front of you.

“I would like to recommend a suitable study plan.” they state.

You rub your eyes, sighing, “I’m already halfway, I would’ve considered it earlier though.”

“This is only a recommendation, feel free to ignore it.”

You push yourself away from the desk and mutter a “go on,”, fiddling with your pen.

“Asking Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes would give you more details for your History examination, since the pair were originally from that time period. The same goes for Mr. Banner for your Science examination, I believe he has seven Ph.D’s, you may also approach Vision for the same topic. Mr. Stark has all the necessary materials for your project in his lab. Would you like me to-”

If only it were that easy. It should be easy, the thought alone makes you really nervous. “No, I - I appreciate the recommendation, Friday, but - I think I can do this on my own.”

“But you’re tired and it is almost midnight. I would help you myself but you specifically told me not to.”

They’re not wrong. Your eyes are starting to droop and you barely understand anything you're reading. You're also fighting back tears - why is talking to your family so hard?

“I can sense sadness. Would you like me to activate emotional support mode?”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds great right about now.”

----

“Crap. Guess we lost track of time again, kid,” Tony wipes his hands with a rag while he looks at the time on his computer. “You better get home. I’ll send May a text for keeping you this late.”

“Okay, thank you Mr. Stark. I’m just gonna use my suit-”

“No. Happy will drive you.”

Peter knew better than to argue and insist so he just nods and smiles sheepishly. A minute later Happy came ‘round to take him home.

Tony turns back around. “Friday, make a new project for me please, I’m adding minor upgrades to the Spiderman suit.”

“Not now, boss.”

Oh. He did not expect that. “Excuse me?”

“Y/N is currently opening up. I would like to give her my full, undivided attention. Please come back after fifteen minutes or so.”

Tony doesn’t exactly know how to feel about that. He never sees her outside her room anymore that he kinda forgot she existed tonight - oh fuck, they didn’t bring her to dinner with them.

“Well,” he exhales. “What is she saying?”

“That would be an invasion of privacy.”

“I’m her father-”

“Are you, sir?” Friday’s clever remark makes him stop abruptly.

It’s pretty clear that he’s been a shit father. Not only does he ignore you all the time but he treats Peter way better than his own flesh and blood. The Avengers on the other hand, they were nice people, but just didn’t understand so they try their best to get out of your way.

You were afraid of rejection, afraid to interact, because you had no idea what everyone thought of you. Did they like you? Did you make them uncomfortable? Did they want you around? What about Tony, did he really want a daughter in his life? Because you noticed he’d be better off with a son, yeah, like Peter goddamn Parker.

Tony sighs, walking out of his lab and heads to the mini bar to grab a drink. He needs to think: there's absolutely nothing wrong about you, he just didn’t do his job right, you thought he didn’t care, you thought nobody did. Even Friday is turning against him, doing a better job of comforting and being there for you.

“God, I’m such an asshole,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. He drinks his last shot and heads to the kitchen. “She still awake?” He calls out.

“She is.” Friday has a bitter tone.

He's hesitant to ask again, feeling really bad for not knowing this simple question - “what’s her favorite beverage?”

----

“How do you feel?”

You sniffle. “Well y’know, better than before. I should probably go to sleep. Thanks, Fri.”

“You’re welcome. Also, Mr. Stark is outside your door.”

“W-what?” You put away your books and straighten up, rubbing your damp eyes. “You’re serious? Okay, uh, let him in?” It's more of a question.

“Alright.”

You turn to face your desk as Tony enters the room, holding two steaming mugs. He sits at the end of your bed, just right next to the chair you're sitting on. “Hi,” he gives you a small smile and hands you a mug.

What’s the occasion?

“What’s this?” You ask quietly before taking the mug from his hands. Tony's being gentle and soft, it's odd but you’re not complaining.

“Green tea with honey. I... I thought I saw you make that stuff once.” He says, not mentioning the fact that Friday told him that.

“Oh, well, yeah,” you take a small sip. He added a bit too much honey but other than that it was good. “I thought you preferred coffee, though,”

Tony shrugs, his eyes glistening when he looks at you. “Wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

“Did - did you want something, Dad?” You always found yourself awkward, couldn’t even make conversation with someone for long, always wanted to get straight to the point so it could be over with.

He looks like he wants to say something but he just averts his gaze to you, his hands, the floor, then suddenly he leans in and hugs you. Your feel your heart swell and body warm up, it’s a new sensation for you after all, you rarely get hugs from people. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “For everything. I’m such a bad dad, I don’t deserve you. I even forgot you when we went out to dinner.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I had loads of stuff to do earlier anyway, so, but yeah I was just - I just overreact, I’m sensitive. I don’t blame you and the others for not liking me, I know there’s nothing like-able about me, I’m not like Peter-” You ramble, tears now leaving your eyes again.

“Sweetheart, don’t say that,” Tony says as he pulls you closer to him, head resting against his chest while he rubs your back comfortably. “Y/N Stark, you are smart, brilliant - I was just an ass for not acknowledging that.”

“I know you’re just saying that to-”

“Oh, but I’m not,” he now places his hands on your shoulders, getting you to look at him. “Tell me who built their first engine when they were eight?”

You blush, “Dad-”

“No, come on, I wanna hear it.”

“I did.”

“Yes you did. And who made a completely functioning robot at their middle school science fair that blew all the teacher’s minds?”

You’re trying to hide a smile, recalling the memory,  “I did.”

“And who,” Tony gets up and walks to the bulky looking thing that you covered with a sheet, pulling it off, “is currently building a computer from scratch?”

“Dad! That’s still a work in progress,” he messily places the sheet back and chuckles.

“My point is, you’re a clever and talented girl, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down. And you don’t have to be shy around your family, those idiots have been dying to get to know you but since you don’t talk much... they don’t want to force it. We love you,” he says. “I hope you forgive me ‘cause I really wanna make it up to you. I’m not calling Peter in for a few weeks.” Tony sits down beside you again.

You couldn’t believe he’d do that for you. “You don’t have to, if you need him for something then-”

“-then you could help me instead, if you’re up for it.”

“I’m really sorry for being such a lonely freak,” you yawn, getting back into Tony’s open arms. “I love you.”

Tony tucks you in and lies down beside you, “I love you tons, kiddo.”

You snuggle into his chest, feeling his steady breathing while he rests his chin above your head.

----

It's morning. The Avengers are gathered at your open bedroom door.

“Are you getting all of this, Friday?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”

“Steve turn that shuttering sound down!” Natasha hisses at the super soldier who's doing his task, taking pictures.

Steve almost drops the phone and has Bruce fix the volume for him.

They’re all watching you and Tony cuddle together, still fast asleep.

“Do we have to stay here until they wake up?”

“Unless you have a great way of waking them up, yes. Now shut up.”

“If you think about it we definitely look creepy right now.” Sam comments.

“It’s their fault for having the door wide open all night!” Clint says.

Tony's actually awake the whole time, listening to them bickering. “You have three seconds to get the hell out of here before I make all of you polish my suits.” With that, the team races down the hall, pushing each other to get away first like literal children.

[earthstellar]

Transformers Analysis: Folklore and Folk Magic in the Mines of Kaon

thinking about Miner Megatron again, as always. here we goooo 

So I've been doing some folk magic, as I usually do, and it got me thinking:

Surely, the lower class/caste bots wouldn’t feel welcomed into the more organised Cybertronian temples etc., or might even be outright banned from joining in shared spiritual spaces or rituals. 

So it’s time to teach y’all some working class magic history and how we can apply that to Cybertronian spirituality: 

Working Class History: Casting Spells on the Job (Just Call it Prayer so the Boss Doesn't Find Out)

Here's a quick history of rural Appalachian folk magic, for some context:

1) The Christian Bible has been used for spellcasting all up and down the rural East Coast in the USA from day one of colonisation.

In Pennsylvania you have Hexenmeisters and the Pennsylvania Dutch practices, for a well-documented example.

2) The working class has done spellcasting with the Bible from the very first day shitty bosses started

This is for several reasons, but primarily because Bibles were common and cheap, you didn't have to know how to read in order to follow along with or change the lyrics of popular hymns and prayers to fit your own needs, and it was very easy to sneak what is essentially localised witchcraft under the radar when it just looks like you're reading the Bible to everyone else.

Catholic materials were used a lot for this, because they were often provided for free by any local churches, and a lot of working class people in Appalachia were Italian (Roman Catholic) or Eastern European (Eastern Orthodox Catholic), which meant there was no shortage of all sorts of votive candles and the like to utilise for what we would now identify as spellcasting.

It's important to note that it wasn't called spellcasting outright by anybody; Sometimes it was called "hexing" or "sweet talking", among other terms, but if you called it spellcasting it was heavily frowned upon.

A lot of people were uncomfortable (and are still uncomfortable) with verbalising it or identifying it as such due to stigma from the more mainstream religious communities or their own religious backgrounds, and of course, historically if the boss found out that all the workers hated their jobs so much they were doing fucking witchcraft about it, it would not have ended well for the workers.

So, stealth it is. And that's why there are so many specific folk practices in a lot of historically working class rural regions/communities-- Not just in Appalachia, but similar things happen in similar communities around the world.

What does this have to do with Megatron?

Everything we know about the lower classes on Cybertron, the lower caste members, and the mines/industrial regions in Tarn and Kaon suggest that a similar folklore likely existed within these working communities.

And any local folk practices likely developed for the exact same reasons that this type of folk practice developed in the real world:

Workers are fucking miserable, "mainstream" religion isn't satisfying their spiritual/emotional/social/material needs or concerns, and close-knit people in small communities spending most of their time together naturally start to sort of do their own thing based on their collective situation.

People get desperate, there's nowhere to turn and nothing to do, so spirituality becomes a lifeline in that it builds solidarity and creates a more appropriate sort of support system.

For example: If we aren't allowed time off work to mourn our friend who was killed by heavy machinery, and we aren't allowed any time to process that or deal with it or take care of each other, then we will invent a ritual that allows us to grieve on the job.

This was, and still is, a common thing.

Which brings us to...

St. Barbara and the Mines + Solus Prime

St. Barbara's backstory can be summarised, roughly, as such (based on the version of this story that I know; keep in mind the details can vary):

She was kept isolated from others by her father, who became furious that she refused an arranged marriage. When she fled, he chased her; She ran into two people working in a field, the first who helped her, and the second who gave her path away to her father.

She was captured, and brought to a prominent local figure (the title varies based on different versions of this story), who had her tortured for escaping and disobeying her father.

However, when imprisoned, they tried to kill her again and again, and every morning she was healed. Fire intended to be used to burn her would cool the second it got near her skin, and daggers used to cut her would go dull when brought near her.

Snakes thrown into her room intended to bite her would then die the instant they went to approach her, and ropes intended to be used to bind and choke her would spontaneously fray and snap before they could be tied.

Eventually, she was condemned to beheading, and a special sword was used to cut her head off, which finally killed her.

Her father is the one who beheaded her, and as divine punishment, he was hit by lightning-- A single bolt that lasted so long that his entire body went up into flames, and his ashes disappeared.

Her gravesite became a place of veneration, where people prayed for protection and safety.

She became known as the patron saint of all people with dangerous jobs or jobs where the bosses don't care about the worker's wellbeing or safety, for obvious reasons: Nothing but the hands of her own father could ever harm her.  

(The imagery of St. Barbara being slain only by a special sword is very reminiscent of Solus Prime being slain only by a special sword...)

Workers, especially those with particularly dangerous or shitty jobs but also just anyone working class in general, can interpret this story in several ways which can make it additionally relatable:

Her father = A controlling and aggressive boss who abuses or neglects their workers to death.

The field workers = A pro-union worker (a helper) and an anti-union worker or scab (a betrayer).

So you can see how St. Barbara became immediately adopted as a common worker's saint, and was used in a lot of regional working class folk magic practices (where such folk magic developed within local working communities).

And this is still going strong as a tradition; Crossrail tunnel borers in London consecrated the drilling site in the name of St. Barbara in 2013:

"Several hundred contractors and senior management attended the St Barbara's Day ceremony at the Thames Tunnel (pictured) which will link Plumstead and North Woolwich when completed. The site was so large, that sound engineers put in place an amplification system for the ceremony." - Article here. 

"As a long-standing tradition, one of the first tasks for each new tunnelling projects is to establish a small shrine to Santa Barbara at the tunnel portal or at the underground junction into long tunnel headings. This is often followed with a dedication and an invocation to Santa Barbara for protection of all who work on the project during the construction period." - Article here. 

And here's a related example of a worker's prayer for St. Barbara, from here: 

So this is very much a tradition that is still going strong, and it isn't just Catholic workers who engage with these types of things!

To accommodate more diverse groups and communities of workers, folk practices (including what eventually becomes folk magic) increasingly develop even further away from any one specific religious origin, in order to become more inclusive for the majority of people who can be from all kinds of different spiritual or cultural backgrounds.

Hence, more folk magic is made-- And I believe something like this could absolutely have evolved in a similar way in working communities on Cybertron.

Cybertronian Spirituality: The Primes, The Knights, The Titans

My personal theory/headcanon, and there is not much in canon to support this particularly so please keep that in mind, is that given the average type of manual labour working environment in Tarn and Kaon (dangerous, dark, and deep), it would make sense for the legendary Titans to become worked into some kind of folk practice.

We have this concept of the Titans as these giant and very particular beings, which reminds me somewhat of the Jewish Golem of Prague, in that the Titans are made from raw materials in some kind of mystical or cosmically spiritual manner, then eventually ally themselves to at least one respective Prime who then acts as a director of their actions to achieve victory over cosmic evil(s).

The Titans then go forward and act as guardians of Cybertronian life by combating the origins of these cosmic evil(s) as protectors of their respective polities and regions and eventually colony worlds, called into action by what is essentially a metaphysical and possibly outright spiritual pull of the need of their Prime(s) and later on the needs of the Cybertronian and colony world populations in times of threat or desperation.

These details are peppered throughout canon and vary based on media/franchise, but most recently Titan lore was covered again in IDW’s Optimus Prime series, issue 10, literally titled Origin Myths. 

What is interesting is that while the Golem association could be reasonably made, you could also reasonably say that the Three Original Titans (Metroplex, Chela, and Metrotitan) could be associated just as easily with the Catholic concept of the Holy Trinity. 

Lots of different interpretations could be applied to this stuff!

Class Stratification Within Cybertronian Religious Institutions

No matter how you may interpret it, we know that the Titans have a similar mystical presence in Cybertronian history and cultural lore to that of the Primes and Knights, and it would make sense for those spurned and disparaged by "mainstream" spiritual practices (which were likely just as stratified by class and caste as everything else was on Cybertron during Megatron's youth) to go ahead and create a folk practice based more around Titans.

This is because the Primes would like be associated directly with their oppressive rulers and upper classes, and the Knights, who are said to be the first Cybertronians to come from the Well, thusly represent a very high class onto their own which may have repelled working class bots who were very likely sick of essentially worshipping those venerated in their class stratified society solely due to the conditions of their creation; The Knights were "born with silver spoons", essentially, and it's hard to sell that to people who suffered due to the conditions of their own creation.

Therefore, the Titans are the other most likely Cybertronian figures of historical lore that could reasonably be adapted into a sort of folk religion for the working classes and lower social caste bots.

The imagery is strong, and relatable: In Megatron's case, the manual labourers and miners all have large frames compared to the average Cybertronian, they all toil invisibly and in relative silence, and they are kept away from the end products of their labour and yet without them, Cybertron planet wide would instantly struggle to sustain their raw material demands. 

They are critical workers, yet many of them have no names/designations; It is noted at least once in canon that some Titans are so old or so little known that their designations are not recorded. Yet without these unseen/unknown Titans, it could be the case that cosmic evil could have achieved victory.

While the Titans are critical, they are largely a mystery and unknown in any real detail. They do not normally engage with average Cybertronians, and when they do, it is usually indirectly-- Even though their actions actively impact the lives of nearly everyone.

And though the Primes and Knights are generally never physically present, at least not within living memory, there is real and physical proof of Titans. I feel like that aspect alone may well appeal more to people who are very physically oriented; We also see a stark realist mentality from many of the lower class/caste bots, who are sometimes realistic to the point of nihilism (which is part of why Megatron's writings were so revolutionary, in that they re-introduced hope to people who had previously concluded that there was no realistic possibility of ever rising up).

The Titans being a known, tangible physical reality may well have endeared them as a more interesting folkloric or spiritual focus to this particular cohort of bots.

Just like with St. Barbara in real life, you can see how the Titans may have been interpreted in certain ways by the lower class/caste working bots which may have made them more appealing or more easy to structure into a framework of sorts for their own practices within their local cultures.

A Little Meta: There's a Lot of Various Religious Imagery in Transformers

Like with all media, especially Western media, inevitably some Jesus sneaks in there.

Which usually sucks, because it can be alienating for literally anyone who isn't familiar with Christianity in some way (as some references or parallels are inevitably not going to be as obvious or even detectable at all to people who didn't grow up with all this sometimes very specific shit, resulting in missed thematic elements and so on due to no fault of the viewers but rather the tendency for Western shows to overwhelmingly be written and designed by primarily Western white middle aged cis straight men who tend to throw some Jesus in there when there should not necessarily be any Jesus in there, but I could yell about this all night).

Transformers as a franchise altogether is not immune to this; As with all media, it is made by people, and people are influenced by their social/cultural upbringing, and that includes religious influences.

We could read some of this into the TFP/Aligned Continuity, in regards to the idea of the Thirteen Primes and how that concept is interpreted in TFP.

Transformers Prime: Alpha Trion is Essentially Paul the Apostle

The TFP Primes resemble both the Apostles as well as various Saints, and especially the Fourteen Holy Helpers; These fourteen Saints in particular are elevated above the others in many cases and contexts-- Similar to how the Primes are held up as elevated over other Cybertronians and other figures in Cybertronian history and presumably within certain Cybertronian spiritual practices as well. 

For example, Alpha Trion is strongly reminiscent of the Christian figure Paul the Apostle, who was a writer/scribe known for documenting early Christian concerns of faith in his letters, which became extremely important to theological historians in regards to determining early Christian discourse and attempting to create a timeline of early Christianity.

His letters are included the New Testament in thirteen (!) sections called epistles, which are archived forever in various iterations within the Christian Bible. 

Now, let’s take a look at the symbolism, using the TFP main illustration of Alpha Trion as featured in the Covenant, and a popular Icon image of Paul the Apostle: 

Beard, cloak, book-- Even the pose they are in here is very similar, look at the feet and the way they are both standing. Even the halo of Cybertronian glyphs around Alpha Trion’s head resembles the gold filament of Paul’s halo. 

And much like Alpha Trion's questionable ability to write/re-write history and determine events through some kind of cosmically divine power of foresight, the timeline of Paul's letters will likely never be fully verifiable, and of course, there are so many translations and interpretations of these letters along with the rest of the New Testament that while key points remain fairly consistent, there is still no "true" version or exact outline of events or discussions as recorded by Paul-- Primarily because in at least a few cases, Paul's letters are the only allusion to certain events or conversations.

This is extremely similar to how Alpha Trion states outright in the Covenant that he himself doesn't know if what he writes is actually factual anymore, or if he has changed things so many times to try to construct a more favourable narrative of actions and events that reality itself may have been warped by his Quill, either forwards or backwards in time...

You could also argue that Alpha Trion is presented as a God-like figure in TFP (especially when he appears to Optimus in the form of an echoing voice and shimmering spectral figure in a vision caused by what is essentially the equivalent of a holy relic), and Orion Pax would then be comparable to Jesus pre-Crucifixion, with his reformatting into Optimus Prime post-Matrix heavily resembling Jesus in the eyes of his followers post-Resurrection.

The main cast of Autobots in this comparison would then roughly correspond to the Apostles, of whom there were twelve, with Optimus then making Thirteen... And of course, canonically, Optimus is the resurrection of the Thirteenth Prime. 

You can also see visual similarities in the depiction of Thirteen in the Covenant; It reminds me heavily of the Divine Mercy image of Jesus: 

Both have their right hands raised, their chests emitting a holy/cosmic light. 

I'm just saying, it is totally possible to make connections between fictional lore/spiritual figures and real world ones, and TF is loaded with content that can be re-contextualised in this way. 

(I also want to point out at this time that it is not my intention to offend anyone with any of this analysis; I am writing from the point of view of someone who grew up with folk spirituality, and I am also a Quaker Attender, just so you are aware of my own personal background. I would love to hear any other interpretations of any spiritual imagery in Transformers media, because there’s a ton of possible ways to read into this stuff!) 

In Conclusion: Cast a Hex on Your Boss by Calling Upon the Titans

Just for fun, as someone who has actually done folk magic for my entire life, I've adapted a hex against bad bosses to fit this headcanon. I think this is something that lower class/caste bots would absolutely engage in; It's common in real life as well.

The original I'm basing this off of was actually something I found in one of our old family Bibles before I moved out, and was written in Girard, Pennsylvania sometime between 1920-1930. I believe it was written by a relative of mine who worked either on the farm or on the railways.

Remember that folk magic like this is for and by working class people, so there are no fancy supplies needed; Don't ever buy shit to do magic, you can do it with anything laying around you. No need to spend money.

If you have a shitty boss, please let me know if you hex your boss with this. I always encourage witchcraft, fictional or otherwise.

Here's what you do, if you want to actually try this:

1) Using any old paper that you have lying around, cut it roughly into a square (doesn't need to be perfect.) It doesn't matter what type of paper it is.

2) Grab any pen you like, it can be any type of pen, any type of ink.

3) Draw a square outline on the paper, making a border on the page. This can be big or small as you like, and you can decorate it if you want; Just leave enough space to write inside the square.

4) Fold this paper into a square, any way you'd like as long as it's a square, and take this paper while it's still blank to work in your pocket.

Carry the paper with you for at least one full day at work. If you can, place it in a chest pocket or a pocket where the paper will be fairly close to your body.

It doesn't matter if the paper gets dirty or smudged or torn; In fact, that's even better.

(Some people who do variations of this spell in real life even use the paper to wipe dirt off their hands etc. throughout the day, to really get the energy of a work day settled into the paper. As long as it can still be written on, you can do this if you'd like.)

5) At the end of the work day, take the paper out, and write the following:

Where I have put [X], the word "Lord" was in the original version of this hex which was in my family Bible, but to contextualise it within the fictional headcanon lore here, you can replace this with the word "Titan". (Or you can replace it with anything else that may be appropriate as well, if you would like to actually use this hex!)

"Give us pay for our work, or the poor will plea to the [X] against you, and you will be struck down, cast down.  

If you do not give to those who give to you, you will be cursed coming in, and going out.

Just as the [X] can raise you up and lead you to prosper, so too can the [X] turn away from you, and you will be left to have your walls destroyed, your fortress ruined.

Us servants will rejoice, but you will cry out in anguish, you will be put to shame.

Without the toilers, the land is made desolate, the haunt of jackals.

[X], turn your gaze to us, we labourers of all kinds, see our tears and our sweat.

Lay curses upon those who use their hands to hold us down; Kept below water, our tears lost in the flood.

Raise the waters, and surge the shores of their ill-owned kingdom; Bring forth to their memory that the [X] stewards the land, and that all among the land are equal in spirit.

The [X] will cast fury upon the unrighteous and conniving, cast rage and stand among us mightily, each motion casting winds against the oppressor who weakens like fractured stone under the onslaught of rain.

The [X] will make a storm from our anguish, which brings us higher, raises us from desolation. Our tears, become the rain that withers the false tower looming high above us.

Our hands will raise from our tools and duties, and offer high praise to the [X], who guards the disparaged and lowly, who enacts justice against those who have done wrong against us.

Let us be brought high, and those who revel in our struggle, may they be cast down."

6) You may flip the paper over once the ink is dry, and on the back, put three Xs in the upper corners of the paper. You may also add three more XXXs to the centre of the paper, where the crease in the paper is from folding it.

7) Re-fold the paper, and put it in the bottom of your right shoe. If this is too uncomfortable, carry it in any pocket on your right side.

You can also place it in your wallet for safe keeping, as your wallet contains money and possibly a work ID or something similar, which are all tied to work and working.

And there you have it! Fuck shitty bosses, both fictional ones and real ones. Join a union, do some witchcraft. 

This post was long as always, but I hope it's interesting to someone out there! <3 Thank you to anyone who actually reads through all of this! <3

[mxtantrights]

past lives | 4

a/n: the response this fic has gotten has made me so happy thank you guys so much!! I really couldn't have expected it. anyways happing reading and just know you can always send in stuff about the story <3

“Big meeting! BIG! Conference room seven, five minutes do not be late!” your boss Erwin said.

So you finished the sentence you were revising and shut your laptop. You got out of your chair and brought along with you a notebook and a sweater. Conference room seven sucked when it came to insulation. It was like practice for Antartica. You hated it.

You pulled the knitted cardigan over you as you walked to the room. When you opened the door you saw one seat saved, the one closest to the door. You took it and set out your notebook.

Pens were passed around before you finally looked up at the person conducing the meeting. You eyes didn’t budge out of your head this time. And you think that was because you had been in the same room before. Even though this was far different. 

Bruce frickin Wayne cleared his throat to start the meeting. And you were sat across from him. Maybe you would’ve felt weird - or more weird- if you hadn’t been in the same room with him a couple of nights ago. Completing a mission for the league.

-

As you’re waiting at your table for Fallon to get your last drinks of the night, the waiter with the scar passes by. It’s so quick and no normal person would pick it up. He had flung the drive into your interlaced hands. With swiftness you caught it, opened your bag and put it in while pulling out your phone. 

You unlock your phone and send a quick reply.

package received

Fallon makes their way over to you with the drinks. They pass you yours, a fancy sounding cocktail thing. The menu was hard to decipher as all you ever relate cared for in a drink was a high alcohol volume. 

“What’s in this?” you ask.

They look over at your drink, “I swore I saw something clear in there so I think it’ll do you good.”

You smile. Taking a sip of the drink you taste the vodka instantly. It was mixed in between other kinds of flavors but not potent enough to drown the vodka. Which was good in your opinion. 

“Say if I didn’t know any better I would say a certain Wayne is coming over here.” they say.

You look up with the straw still in your mouth and it’s Jason. He’s shed the jacket and he looks really good. Or maybe you were drunk. Maybe both. Still he looked good.

He reaches your table and plasters a grin on his lips.

“So maybe I can be your gala groupie?” he asks point blank. 

Fallon almost chokes on their drink. You drop the straw back into the drink.

“Hmm, kind of presumptive of you to think I’d want a groupie.” you say.

He leans his face in closer, “I could be good I promise.” 

“I’m- gonna go and order our rideshare, unless you wanna...” Fallon trailed off. 

“Give me five minutes.” he says.

You eye him closely. He’s like a wolf. Showing you his pretty teeth, and you’re supposed to think he’s smiling. But really he’s showing you the canines, the things that will tear into you later on.

You’re not sure if that’s sexual or not.

“Two minutes, Fallon’s shoes are uncomfortable.”

“I bet I can make you blush in less than that.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

You notice Fallon snicker to themself as they back away from what’s going on. This just give you more incentive to lean into his personal space. Something you didn’t think you’d do on the balcony. But this guy in front of you is just intriguing. Something about him seems deeper.

That’s not really the right word but you don't care.

“If you want-” 

He is cut off by a bussing noise. You know it’s not your phone because you can’t feel the vibration coming form your bag. Sure enough he pulls out his own from his left pant pocket. 

His eyes read over something and he sighs.

“uh-oh. I think your time is up Mr.Todd.” you tease.

He puts his phone back in his pocket and smirks ar you. You return the gesture. He sends you a wink.

“To be continued.” he says, and walks away.

You watch him shuffle though the crowd until he’s gone. It doesn’t take long for Fallon to make their way back to you. And when they do you take your straw into your mouth again.

“So sex with a Wayne is not a go?”

You finish off you drink and put it down on the table. 

“Fallon, if I didn’t know any better I would think you were trying to get rid of me.”

“Good thing you don’t know any better. Come on, let’s go to coat check and get out of here.” 

- 

You snapped out of the flashback to the gala. Daniel had finished talking about some of the new funded projects. Courtesy of Wayne industries. You thought to yourself how exactly this deal was made but then you thought against it. This is the richest man in Gotham, he doesn't just stay in one place.

You watched as Daniel pointed over to you. That was when you decided to pay close attention.

“We’re also going to have our Deputy writer produce a spread on the Wayne family. Obviously not too much but just enough to satisfy the public that they keep coming back for more.” He said.

Your eyes flickered to the man himself. He was already looking at you. What you couldn’t understand was, why did the Wayne family need an article or op-ed about them? Was there some bad rumor floating around? Are they trying to get ahead of something?

“You have a question?” Bruce Wayne- which is kinda weird and cool to you at the same time- asked.

“Sorry, I have the worst poker face. I’m just wondering why you and your family need a piece- or want it. But now I’m thinking that can be saved for the piece itself.” You said.

You added a smile after, out of manners.

He nodded his head. Then he thanked you by your first name. It felt weird too. Like he had wanted to say your name on purpose and this was his excuse. You tried to swallow down that feeling.

You pulled the sleeves of your sweater over your hands. 

“Speaking of Ron is giving you full control over the piece. So no need to clear anything by him, he trusts your instincts and vision.” Daniel added.

You nodded a bit surprised. It’s not the first time that Ron, your boss, had given you total control. But those had been pieces or columns about things or places. Not people. Especially not a spread about the most important person in Gotham and his family. 

Daniel called the meeting over not long after and everyone began to leave. You grabbed your notebook but were stopped. Bruce Wayne had called you by name again and asked you hang back.

The words ‘hang back’ coming out of a billionaire’s mouth was weird, because it was addressed to you. Nonetheless you stayed after everyone, including Daniel, left.

When the door closed behind Daniel you turned to the only man in the room. 

“Hi Mr. Wayne.”

He put his hand up, “Oh you can call me Bruce.”

“You’ll probably have to correct me so that I can remember. What can I do for you?” you asked.

“Seeing as this is a family piece, I wanted to let you know that the whole family will be available this coming Friday night.” he said.

“Great, did you have a place in mind?”

“Would my place do?”

You stopped all your efforts to gulp. His frickin masion- manor it’s called the manor. Oh wow, you were really smoozing with rich people. At least the Wayne’s didn't seem to be the snobby or bratty type. 

You won in that respect.

So you nodded along, “That’d be good.” 

“I’ll send for a car,” he said and then he took out his business card, “Just get in contact and it’ll all be arranged.”

“Right.” you said.

You took the card. Which you thought meant the conversation was over. Yet Bruce Wayne did not bulge from his spot. You thought, maybe you should appear more nervous to move things along. 

Turned out you didn’t have to. He excused himself and left the room. It was almost as if he wasn’t there in the first place. The only piece of evidence that contradicted that was the business card in your hand.

-

It was way to cold to be running errands this late. And without material covering your legs. Your outfit and the trench coat Fallon let you borrow was only equipped for balcony breezes. Not harbor ones.

Still, you will make do. The sign coming up above your head read Gotham Harbor which wasn’t a port of any kind. It was a bookshop on the Harbor. The number 45 the building number. 

Was that a trick too?

The lights were still on, even though the close sign is turned. You push open the door and it gives way. This is the right place. You make sure to close the door softly. From the back you can hear movement. 

You walk up to the counter where the bell is. Without a second thought you take the flash drive out of your bag and place it next to it. Then you ring it. You do not wait for the person in the back to come out front.

Instead you leave the way you came. Softly you end up back on the street and begin your walk a couple of blocks up. It was best to catch a cab a distance away as to not be easily traced. 

As you were walking, a black SUV pulled up next to you. You were walking with traffic, and there was practically no other cars on the block. You knew exactly who it was.

The window rolls down.

“Raʼs al Ghul, what a surprise.” you say.

“You passed.” he answers.

“Great. Any details you wanna share?”

“In time, Nyssa says hello.”

“Don’t.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

[power-of-plot]

Iida, Mirio, and Aizawa dating hcs please

Of course! But holy cow apparently this seriously inspired me, i hope this is ok xd

I I D A

Oh yes robot boi. Iida is someone nerdy in every aspect, his language even with close friends like Midoriya is very formal and polite, the same rule would apply when it comes to his significant other. Unlike what some would think, this doesn’t give your conversations a cold touch, on the contrary, it’d make him look chivalrous.

He’s a classic gentleman, he’d be the kind who opens the door and waits for you to walk in first or gives you his jacket when it’s too cold and you don’t have anything to cover yourself with, the second one would happen often in the classroom if you’re sensitive to cold. We are talking about U.A have you seen the measures of the classrooms and the entire area? It’s impossible they don’t have those huge air conditioners.

He highly respects the rules wich means, no PDA, on a certain level, no kisses to be specific. That doesn’t mean he won’t give you any affection, though every gear of his robotic soul is having a bad time working properly inside, he’d hold your hand or put his over your shoulder pulling you close when you’re sitting together. 

He definitely would do that thing of caressing you with his thumb. As you expected it from Tenya, this is a sort of robotic motion, his finger would move like a metronome but that doesn’t make it any less nicer, he is slow and gentle.

Honestly, he’d be nervous most of the time. ALSO! Tenya is very thoughtful, he’d ask (often verbally) if you’re okay with whatever he’d do, as times goes by the questions turn non verbal, for example he’d hold his hand above yours waiting for you to give green light or grasp it. 

“..Can i hold your hand?” “Sure!” “*DEEP INHALE AND BLUSH*” He couldn’t help to blush the first times. Specially on the firsT kiss but how would it be? A clasic scenenario after classes! And after you both have grown comfortable enough to each other’s touch. Seriously, if you like to go slow he's got you.

You two would be walking around in the campus after classes and he feels the tension grow.. he is analyzing every detail, he wants to ask but what if things get extremely awkward, he’s very tall- he’d have to bend down slightly (unless you’re nearly as tall as him) to do it so what if you flinch because it was unexpected.. he stops walking, he simply manages to say your name. You stared into each other's eye and then it happened, a big smile unexplainably forms in his lips complemented by a scarlet color across his whole face, his haircut made his head look like a strawberry.

There are going to be days you don't see him as much as you'd like, Tenya is very comitted to his hero patrols, he certainly would do extra hours from time to time or if the situation called for it. Let him know you like his hero suit! He’s thankful it has a helmet otherwise his flustered face would be exposed. 

Whatever position you cuddle in Iida would wrap his arms around you, not only that, he’d interlock his fingers so he has a nice grip. His cuddles would be the classic spooning or having your head on his shoulder with your arm over his chest and in case you worry about his arm, this guy doesn’t know limb numbness- he literally tenses and holds his arms up every five minutes.

He sends good morning/good night texts often on the weekends since you're practically living together thanks to the dormitory system, they vary depending on the day, some are a reminder to get a proper amount of sleep or! To get done with homework so you can enjoy your free time and maybe ask if he can go over to study *cough spend time together*

He'd send the classic heart emoji, very detailed but easy to comprehend videos explaining any difficult lesson and history related stuff like paint restorations or facts about iconic sculptures. Please don’t send him those videos of people accidentally breaking things on museums, he’s gonna feel like something breaks inside.

M I R I O

This ray of sunshine fell for you? Your luck is so big you’d get jackpot on a slot machine on the first try-. You’re undeniably going to be good friends with Tamaki and Nejire, specially her, expect to get questions one after another without the chance to reply when she finds out you’re Mirio’s significant other, Tamaki would take it way better.

Mirio’s goofyness and confidence combined with his feelings give a unique result: he literally spoke to the boss of mafia himself twice like he was the manager in a store, but, the case is different when you’re around, he’s saying and actually good joke and suddenly.. it goes away, his mind goes blank. “So what happened after Mirio..?” “Ah.. i had practiced a lot, i don’t know what happened haha my bad!”

You’re going to get tons of his jokes and something more “intense” such as the classic “What’s in your shirt?” to make you look down so he can boop your nose with his finger, you should expect some gentle headpats as well. 

If you’re shy he’s cool about it, he knows what do and adaptates to your pace, you’d start off with hand holding or rather pinky holding, he’d interwine his pinky with yours and show a bright smile. His hugs are the warmest, he doesn’t do it half-assesly, when you hug, YOU HUG, he uses both arms and slightly lifts you up! Height or strength are not a problem he’s actually one cm taller than Iida i just found out

He seems like the kind who loses their pen or eraser despite seeing it on their desk just one minute ago, if you happen to be that kind as well you’re both going to lay down your faith on poor Tamaki’s hands, i’m sure he has all his material complete.

He hardly ever gets nervous or scared by anything, things like the first kiss would go pretty smooth, instead of blushing intensely he’d just chuckle with slight disbelief, his mind is racing like “I just did that? woah!”. The biggest trouble for him would be gifts, he wants it to be perfect but asking Nejire for advice is not a good idea, roses are too formal and they don’t last long, going to the movies seems a little cliche.. his first gift would end up being a plushie of your favorite animal and a bamboo.

He’d sneak a kiss or two, specially before the class is begginning a training session, he’d send you a text telling you to go outside the changing rooms and oop! He phases through the wall poking out his head to give you a kiss kiss. If you don’t mind a prank from time to time he’d give a little scare using his quirk.

This guy is the big spoon during cuddles, no arguing! He could switch but as time goes by he’d slowly shift into the big spoon, that’s just the way he is, the most usual position would be where you’re facing each other with your limbs wrapping around the other’s body. Waking up with him would be adorable and attractive, morning and night are the only times of the day when his hair isn’t gelled into his All Might-like hairstyle, those blonde locks would frame his face, a heavenly sight.

Would send you a pic of stray animals he rescued with a “:D!” and Sir. Nighteye 'torturing' Bubble girl (half of his head visibly on a corner of the image). If you longed for a pet badly he would bring a nice dog/cat he finds around! In his hero suit to make the moment more special. 

He uses the smiling emojis and emoticons! And shares videos of animals he finds adorable, if you sent him fails videos he'd laugh as long as the falls don't seem extreme or too severe, small trips on the beach or slips on the snow are fine. Mirio sends gifs i just know.

A I Z A W A

Have you taken a look at him? You must be a big The Walking Dead fan to like him lmao. Aizawa gives me an unexplainable gut feeling that he'd prefer a civilian (perhaps quirkless?) significant other over a hero, he wouldn't want his partner to go into the same dangerous situations he does.

His affection is tired, let me explain, he'd hug you and all that physical stuff but it'd kinda feel like his arms fall limply around you, still, even with his minuscule clingyness he loves you with all his might! He doesn't fall for anyone.

Not very fond of PDA, in public he'd preferr temple/forehead kisses and having your hand on the crook of his arm instead of hand holding (thinking about it Iida would do that too), seems more discret and! you don't let go when his hands are busy. He'd initiates it by gently resting your hand on his arm and sinking his hand into his pocket.

Surprise! He does smile, not that maniactic-looking grin he has sometimes during his shifts at U.A when a student impresses him, this one is less wide but somehow more tender and sweet, he tilts his head and for once his eyes seem relaxed, a relationship would make his cheeks hurt.. either for he's not used to smile so much or he smiles more than he thought he would.

If you give him a cat.. that's a strong blow straight to one of his weakest spots, he'd stare both at you and the kitten with a dumbfounded look before picking it up in his arm like a baby, his hand gravitates towards his it's head giving some nice pets before he shows a rare and somewhat bright smile "Thank you very much." Next time have a camera ready damnit! That smile rarely shows up.

He's practical, he wants his gifts to be nice but useful as well. He’d get you those mugs with candies inside, you get the candy and you can use the mug later for your coffee or tea; a power bank with a nice color or design and in case he choses something smaller: a bamboo, those one don’t wither away. Aizawa is fine with whatever you get for him, big or small he appreciates it. Sweaters, scarfs and blankets would be his favorite thing to get though, he likes to stay warm while working late at night

He’s sneaky, as an underground hero he’s used to work at times when the streets look disolated and the dark crime has more freedom to do as it pleases, he wouldn’t want to wake you up unless you asked him to. He’d leave a note on is pillow with the time he wrote it at and a short loving phrase like “i love you, i’ll be back soon, good morning”, before he leaves he’d always lift the sheet up to your neck or drag it away if you seem to be kicking it off you and give you a small kiss.

You’d find him passed out in his sleeping bag with his laptop besides him at random spots of his appartment, if it wasn’t because of the unatura position he adopts to fit in his sleeping bag he’d give you a death scare ‘cause let’s be honest he doesn’t look one hundred percent alive even when he’s awake. “Shota..? Shota can you hear me?!” “I’m not dead.”

Hibrid of big-small spoon. Most of the times you cuddle he’s asleep and you go snuggle him, his hair is a mess so better prepare to get tickled all night. He pull you close the best way he can when you’re behind him, not very comfortable for his arm but it’s worth it. He’d have you like a pillow over him, his chin over your head and both arms around you.

This man doesn’t bother typing when he can use his voice, the only situations he uses regular text messages are when he’s on shift or with you sleeping next to him. Send him gifs of kittens and a ‘i love you’ it instanstly gives him a good mood! He’d send pics of cats he sees around and gifts he bought you, doesn’t use emojis.

*COLLAPSES ON THE GROUND* Big oof- requests are open.