#which is now a residential area but anyways

[inmirova]

In an ideal world, it would be a program for Deaf teachers, the government could even put it under vocational rehab if they wanted to! Unfortunately, even some Deaf schools don't employ many Deaf teachers and a lot of teaching jobs end up going to interpreters or just hearing & non-signing people instead. But you're right and I love what you said, we can hope 🩷

idk man. i just think itd be really cool if sign language classes were mandatory throughout primary school. yeah because it would make communication with deaf kids and autistic/nonverbal kids much easier. and those kids would be accessible to the others so they cold make friends and have healthy relationships. yeah. and kids would eat that shit up man. like their own little secret language? they love that.

[redflagshipwriter]

Nest Swap chapter 5 progress

In which Tim flirts with the sad thoughts but is not committed to them.

masterpost

Probably the best thing to do was to make sure everyone was happy with him. If he did everything that everybody wanted, there would be no issues. 

So, Tim finished his experiment for Miss Fox and sent her his report. The groceries arrived while he was finishing up. After he put it away, he made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and ate it one-handed while he looked up the address that Jason had told him about. 

“That's pretty far away,” Tim mused. Some grape jelly dropped onto the keyboard. He swiped it up with his sleeve. He was a little less careful about the apartment now that he knew it was Big Tim’s place and not someone important or mean. 

Huh.

Tim paused mid contemplation. Speaking of important people, where was Mom? (And also Dad.) He turned his head around looking for the most recent post card. He usually kept that on the fridge.

Apparently, Big Tim had lost the habit. The dig post card tacked to the fridge was years old. Tim took it down and read it anyway, smiling at Mom’s handwriting. It was neat and precise, just like her. 

He felt better. He'd figure it out later. Tim put a pin on the thought and went back to focusing on his- on Jason's request. He squirmed in his chair while he thought it through.

The address was in a residential neighborhood, the kind with separate houses and not apartment complexes. The suspect himself lived in a duplex. The other half of the duplex was registered to a retiree who Tim didn't find any digital trail of, other than that her Social security checks were being cashed and her bills were paid on time. Oh, neat, she had been part of Gotham’s historical recreation society. She seemed kinda cool.

She had crazy huge electric bills, though. Tim frowned at that. He wasn't absolutely sure. But he thought that most people didn't have electric bills in excess of $600 monthly. How was she even affording that off of her Social security income? 

“Maybe the neighbor killed her and is using her apartment for nefarious purposes,” Tim reasoned aloud. “He's chasing her check and concealing the death. Maybe he uses her apartment to store his industrial sausage making machines.” 

It was a bit of a reach but it seemed a little more likely than his follow-up idea: her hobby was running every appliance in her house at the same time for all the hours that she was awake.

Focus, Tim! How was he going to surveil this place?

It wasn’t like there were any nice big buildings with dramatic awnings and gargoyles to creep around. It was suburbia. 

Tim spun around on his chair miserably, hands on his head to help him think.

Were there any abandoned homes in the area that he could use as a viewpoint? He checked on that. No. No, there weren’t. Dangit. He looked up everyone who lived in the neighborhood, wondering if there might be like, a family on vacation or someone whose second floor was unoccupied. He didn’t see anything useful like that. There were just a bunch of families with little kids.

He spun faster. Maybe the centrifugal force would somehow jar his brain awake.

“There’s nothing for it,” Tim decided ruefully. “I have to go undercover as a child.”

He put on the light up sneakers that he had ordered, washed his face, and made sure he had enough money for the bus. Then he set off on an adventure with a little notepad in his pocket. When he got to the apartment lobby he realized that he probably should have brought Big Tim’s phone, but oh well. It was too far now.

He took three buses and walked twenty minutes. He arrived in the right neighborhood in the early evening, around 5 pm. He looked for rogue groups of playing kids to join in. He’d do whatever game they were playing, then subtly interrogate them.

Unfortunately, it seemed like everyone was inside eating dinner. Tim frowned at one window. He could see a table being set.

Weird.

Alright, new plan. The old lady neighbor was probably dead, so he could just sneak into her half of the duplex, find a place to hide, and observe whatever sick and twisted stuff Jason’s bad guy did. Then he could tell Jason about it later, and he would like Tim.

He tried the backdoor. It was locked. Tim skulked around the house and tried windows until he found one that was open. He had to scramble a bit to climb up the siding to get into the house but he managed it. He hit the floor with a tumble.

“I have a mace!” said a female voice. “I am prepared to use it upon you!”

Tim rolled over to see the retiree. “Oh,” he said. “Hello.” He was a little disappointed that he was wrong about her being dead, though of course it’s always nice when someone isn’t murdered.

Mrs. Henderson yanked open a drawer and withdrew her mace. She pointed it at him steadily over her walker.

“Whoa,” said Tim. “That’s really cool. That’s Gothic, right?”

She looked at her mace. “...I believe so,” she said. “Get out of my home!”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Tim said, deliberately not agreeing. He sat up and crossed his legs. “I didn’t realize that you lived here.”

Mrs. Henderson slowly lowered her Gothic mace, which was probably a replica of one from Western Europe and weighed about 2 kilograms. “...Did you mean to go next door?” she said, sounding more confused and less hostile. 

“Yeah, I got mixed up,” Tim lied like a champion. “I accidentally locked myself out and no one is home.”

Although that really wouldn’t be true for much longer. Hm. Maybe Tim should have waited until tomorrow to come by.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi! I'm a big fan of your blog and love reading all of your posts. You always have such interesting perspectives and incredibly thoughtful points to add! I'm not quite sure if you're open to answering questions like this right now, and if not, feel free to ignore! But I was wondering if you have any information about the Island of Woe and what life is like there? Like do they ever have to import or export things, do they have more there than just S.T.Y.X to keep them occupied/entertained, etc.? I was trying to figure it out myself and all that I learned was that most people live on the upper walls in the Oceanus section. Do the Shrouds live there too, or do they live within the S.T.Y.X. headquarters? And do they ever have to travel for their jobs, beyond the little mishap that happened in Book 6?

Anyways, again, totally disregard this if you don't want to answer! Thank you for even reading this. I look forward to seeing more of your posts and enjoying your writing and input!

Aaaah, thank you!! ^^ Glad you enjoy my content, whatever it may be!

The bulk of lore for the Isle/Island of Woe comes to us from 6-40 of the main story. We (comparatively) have more information about Styx and how it is run, so I had to isolate what lore is about the island itself + life on the island and what lore is about the organization.

To begin with, here is a map of the area:

Most of the island residents don’t live in Ancient City at the seabed level. Instead, people tend to live in the residential block of Oceanus, which is the outer wall which covers the island. (This is how Ortho describes it to us in game, but it’s sort of confusing what exactly he’s referring to since we don’t see land above the water; based on Epel’s dialogue, the “outer wall” may refer to the upper levels. This means that technically all of the Island of Woe is underwater.)

Ancient City refers to the seabed level of the Island of Woe: It seems to be the community that surrounds Styx HQ, which lies at the center.

The giant pillar in the middle of the city connects to Oceanus Gate, the entrance at the surface of the water, and ends in Tartarus at the other end.

Trains, elevators, and Styx-made technomantic flying vehicles called Chariots are used for transportation. (I assume that only Styx agents are allowed to use Chariots, but this isn’t made clear.)

There is an artificial sky over the isle. This is because natural light provides mental and physical benefits to humans.

Styx makes efforts to use advanced technologies to emulate life on land. This results in the Island of Woe having seasons, weather, forests, and rivers even at the bottom of the sea.

Idia’s post-OB flashback implies that there may be strong security systems in place not only in Styx HQ, but also around the entire island (since he talks about wanting to leave the island and having to disarm the security in order to achieve that; Styx is also shown to control the Oceanus Gate and therefore controls entry to and from the isle).

Going hand-in-hand with the previous bullet point, Ortho states that it’s dangerous to wander the area.

The architecture is a remainder of the Island of Woe’s olden days as part of the Kingdom of Heroes. The buildings are relics there have been well-preserved.

The entire isle used to be spoken of by the common man as like… some kind of superstition or boogeyman?? Lilia tells us that “People believed the Island of Woe would punish any wizard who abandoned their principles and went mad with power.” This is attributed to the isle’s origins as being the place where the Jupiter family sentenced the Phantoms in the Age of the Gods (a period of time in which mages were feared and the relationship between magic and blot was not yet established). Since Styx is not an organization that the general public knows about, it’s possible that the public assumed residents of the isle themselves were vigilante agents of justice against mad mages.

Idia describes the Island of Woe as "filled with the lamentations of five billion people [...] It's dark and gloomy 365 days a year." He also refers to the island as his hometown.

The Island of Woe has bugs, but different kinds than what you would see in the outside world.

To address your specific questions (and please keep in mind that these points are not directly answered in TWST and instead relies on inferencing):

Do they have to import or export things?

While the island does receive sunlight and have seasons + varied weather, I don’t think they’d be entirely self-sufficient depending on the population size and its needs. Styx seems to run the show, but I’d imagine they need to focus their efforts on research and not food production or something. This could easily be automated with tech, I guess??? But some things they just couldn’t get, even with automation. They may have to import some stuff from the outside, though I imagine there are multiple security measures in place to convolute the supply chain and to keep the location of the Island of Woe hidden.

I’m not sure about exports since the island isn’t noted to produce anything significant (other than Styx tech, which I’d imagine they want to keep confidential).

Do they have more there than just S.T.Y.X to keep them occupied/entertained, etc.?

Being that there’s an entire city down there, yes, I’d have to think that the people don’t just work all day. Idia himself is one huge example; how did he get into anime, games, idols, etc. if no entertainment exists in the isle? We even see him as a child playing his beloved Star Rogue in his post-OB flashback scene—and his childhood bedroom is also littered with other signs of his hobbies and interests. Ortho has also mentioned that their family celebrates birthdays and go on outings to parks and such. This implies to me that there are definitely recreational activities around on the isle.

Do the Shrouds live there too, or do they live within the S.T.Y.X. headquarters?

I believe the implication is that the Shrouds technically live in Styx HQ. (A researcher remarks that “Idia hasn’t come out of his room for over two years now” while the background shows the Styx interior.) I’m not sure if this is true of the entire Shroud family, but I think it would make sense if they did since it would add to their vibes of isolation and gloom.

Additionally, it’s stated that it benefits the Shrouds to reside in a blot-dense area like Styx HQ so that their hereditary curse burns through blot in their immediate surroundings rather than burning through their own magic (and potentially life force). I don’t think the Shrouds are forced to stay IN Styx HQ all the time though; they clearly leave and explore the seabed city since Ortho says their family used to go on trips like that.

Do they ever have to travel for their jobs, beyond the little mishap that happened in Book 6?

I don’t know how often travel for work occurs, but it does happen. Styx agents are deployed as needed to secure Phantoms, as well as to speak with important figures. Leona, for example, mentions seeing Ferrymen lurking at the palace of the Sunset Savanna.

[strawberymilku]

Playing Dangerous

featuring: Police!Leone Abbacchio x Fem!Reader

genres: nsfw!, crimes, mention of: thugs, arson, mafia, car sex, oral sex, blowjob, dirtytalk, one night stand, fingering, doggy style, praises, police theme, corrupt, minor gunplay

a/n: i was rewatching jojo, and ive been wanting to write a police smut with lana del rey lyrics as prompt, and my bf wnted to collab so i just had to write it. not proofread yet. might do part 2 for it. word: 4k, a bit long but it was worth it.

The woman was speeding for sure, but Abbacchio could doubt if she was the witness or the culprit for committing arson, Abbacchio heard the sound of the motorcycle approaching, and he turned to face the direction in which it was coming. It was heading straight in his direction-? He wasn't sure if the person on the bike was who he suspected it to be, but he raised his revolver as the bike came closer..it certainly looked suspicious...

"Why you?!" she yelled, cursing, he was brave enough that he did not care if he died to get her, pulling him on the side of the motorbike, with a swift dash, saving his life as he was at the back of her motorbike. It was the work of the Stand for sure, but sadly the man couldn’t see Stands like that yet but just felt someone lift him on her motorbike. That certainly caught him off guard. Was she just riding directly into him? The situation was unclear...Was she trying to run him over? To escape-? He was surprised at how quickly she acted. He could have been killed if it hadn't been for her, which meant..she couldn't be the arsonist, but she still looked suspicious..and yet she saved his life... Yet her actions are justified yet "Kill me later, what is wrong with you, you would be run across in my wheels," she had a gangly Italian accent, still on the motorbike with huge speed. "Am I getting a ticket for speeding too?" she said sarcastically. He looked at her back where a group of thugs were still chasing over her. Leone had a stunned look on his face. She was certainly lively, and rather..crude. He certainly wasn't expecting that attitude from a potential arsonist, but for some odd reason he didn't feel threatened by her- in fact, he was rather intrigued- she hadn't even noticed his police uniform. After a few moments of stunned silence, he finally replied

"Ah...I'm a police officer. But I can't just let anyone ride at such high speeds..why are you speeding away from people?" "They are after me, whaddya think," she went into different roads taking a lot of turns as the gang lost track of her, after minutes of having the stranger at the back, they stopped in a random alleyway, with a big sigh, she realized it was the cop, not that she’s afraid of him anyways. "It's my job to keep the streets safe and look out for suspicious behaviour- like someone on a motorcycle riding at dangerously high speeds in a residential area."

The suspicious behaviour mentioned included the arson incident at the local gas station that happened not a day ago. Although he didn't outright believe her, he decided to look into her claim. For now, he'd only ask questions to get a grip on the situation.

"May I ask what you were doing around that area where the suspected arson took place?"

"Arson? You think I'd commit arson-" Her lighter got pulled from her pocket, he was daring enough to get that from her leather jacket. "No, please, I'm a smoker," she pulled out her cigarettes to counter his proof. The policeman took a second to think. It would be highly unusual for someone to commit a criminal offense like arson just to cover up smoking. At the same time, he had no evidence proving her guilty yet. He decided to ask another more personal question.*  

"Why were they on your tail to begin with? Do you know why these gang members were after you?" That was a sensitive topic for a mafia’s daughter, no way she could leak her identity out like that. "Yes I do, I have my own reasons, which place was getting burned again?" she tilted her head, as she was demanded to show her license, but she looked reluctant to show it.

 There was still the issue of the gang members after her that he had to inquire about.

"The Shell station at the corner of Via Maddaloni and Via Caracciolo."

"I was at a Hilton Hotel I swear, you can get the evidence," she raised her arms, showing everything from her pocket. Everything seemed suspicious to Abbacchio, no way he could get information out of her mouth like that, so the best way was to flip her body quickly, putting her hands at his back as he slapped the metal handcuffs on her wrists, locking it. He was unsure why he did that but he believed this was the best way. She sighed, "My dad will be killing me if he finds out I’m going to be late,” it was too much for just speeding up in a motorbike.

He couldn’t help but raise a small smirk. Her hands being cuffed behind her back gave him a fair idea of what he could do to her.

"I suppose you aren't very much of a good girl?"

*"Everybody knows that I'm a good girl, officer,"* she replied still with her hands on her back as she was forced to walk back to where his car was. He let out a small laugh. It was rather amusing how easily she was acting so calm over being handcuffed and detained. Even if this incident would end up being a dead end for the arson case, he was still curious. She was just detained for being a suspect, just yet. Things are getting exciting.

"And exactly what is your name, miss?" 

“Y/N,” she grunted still feeling her wrist already from the handcuffs. “Well then Y/N, too bad, you will be a warrant for, ‘reckless driving, running through stop signs, driving at dangerously high speeds, running through red lights- and for suspicion of arson. You have the right to remain silent,” he said in a stern tone, he couldn’t help but smile at her rolling her eyes. *"No, I wouldn't do a thing like that, that's for sure,"* she tried to pout her lips to use a charm on him, thinking he would let her go this time.

Abbacchio's smirk grew wider, as he tried not to laugh at her attempt at seduction.

"I don't think a pout will suffice for an excuse in court."

Her attitude was amusing he thought. Usually, people would be acting aggressively, but she seemed to have accepted the situation quite easily.

"Ah yeah, my dad told me not to talk to the police, because I can demand rights for a lawyer," she tried to rethink again, trying to stay silent as they slowly walked back to his car. She had the attitude of a spoiled teenager, but he couldn't help but be amused. Usually, people would be threatening legal action, not talking about their parents, but she was a different case.

"Your father told you not to talk to the police..? Is he one of those who would try to bribe officers to avoid arrest?"

"Oh really, does he?" she grinned, still using her legs to take sweet sweet time back to the car, it was taking so long than usual just to stall time as much as she could. She was certainly being flirty for someone who had just been arrested.

"If you're expecting me to be charmed you certainly have a poor way of showing it."

Though she certainly was charming..but he'd rather stay professional at the moment. He’s a committed policeman after all. "Am I going to jail for this?" her shoulders slouched at him trying to repeat what she committed as if he were his mom. “Like, *the house is already on fire right, I swear I’m not a liar,*” she added to him to second guess his decisions.

Abbacchio gave her a skeptical look. She definitely wasn't being completely honest. But what she said about the house being on fire definitely seemed more believable than her being the arsonist. It seemed like these gang members came after her for something else. He decided to ask just to confirm his suspicions.

“I’m not asking about the arson crime, I’m asking how are you related to those thugs, it’s very dangerous you know,” he tried to squeeze more questions to get more information out of her.

The girl didn’t reply, it was indeed a chilly night, her lips were quivering from the cold, even if she had the leather jacket on her. “Are you cold?” he asked with concern in his eyes, his hands on her handcuffs, yet pulling her close to him, trying to walk back where he came from.

*“Well, I'm a little shaken, but I'm fine, thanks for asking.”* she smiled at him to look up at him with her eye smile.

"Did you owe them money? Did you have their illegal drugs? What's your ties to these gang members?" "Tell me do you always work so late?" she didn't answer his question, as she had the right not to though. She was very charming, but also very stubborn- he almost found it admirable. Maybe he should've taken her up on her earlier offer of charm. She seemed very confident in her ability to seduce him. It could be the right moment to give in to temptation.

"It's my job to watch the late night shift, what does my work schedule have to do with your involvement with gangs?"

*"Do you really have to put those tight handcuffs on?"* she tried to pull it out but it was not to avail. Still, she didn’t give up yet to flirt with him. Abbacchio gave her a small laugh at the girl, this was the moment for which he was hoping. That is, she was very much starting to flirt with him- so now was the perfect time to reciprocate. 

"Are you sure you're not trying to get me to take the cuffs off?"   

It might just be wishful thinking, but it certainly looked like she was trying to flirt. He was hoping for it anyway, and now she had given him the right opportunity by attempting to pull her cuffs off... But he must stay professional right?

*"Let's get in the back of your cop car, officer?"* she asked a question, still finding ways to flirt with him last minute possible. Finally, they arrived at the car that had printed ‘Polizia’ on it. “Playtime is over, get in the car,” he tried to stay in a demanding tone. The ‘officer’ word did get the man inhaled deeply, oh the things he could do with her right now, as he placed her in the backseat of the car, respectfully, restraining himself from touching her. He’s a good policeman, he couldn’t be doing that. *"You can ask me anything you want, anything, like anything,"* she smiled as he slowly fell for her trap, he decided to sit in the backseat, for a while, closing the car door behind him, and locking it, giving her a dirty smirk. Abbacchio chuckled and shook his head at her flirtatious comments, yet he also realized just how tempting the situation was.

"Anything, hmm?"

He thought for a bit. His mind started to wonder as he looked down at her. She was very appealing.

"What would you do, if I decided to uncuff you- right now?" "I don't know, officer," she looked at his lips then back to him. "You do like purple lipstick, don't you, what is it? Givenchy brand?" she joked, in between, giving a mysterious appeal to the policeman wanting to give in to his desires.

"Good guess. Though I may need more than just your beauty alone to convince me."

"Like what, officer?" she leaned closer towards his neck, it was rather a risqué attempt, she was down to play with fire too, from the looks in his eyes. Leone bit his lip slightly but he still tried to hold back, he wanted to stay professional and focused. But his heart couldn't help but race as she got close. He wondered how this would end...if there was a way he could fall for the trap.

The smell of her perfume hit his nose making it that much harder to focus. He was very tempted. She seemed to have been waiting for him to reply for a minute now. *"Do you have a girl? I don't see a ring on your finger?"* she'd be the one asking questions here instead, how the tables have turned, touching his chest on his police uniform, with her fingertips. This made him raise an eyebrow, the question she had just asked was a little unexpected. Though given he was staring directly at her lips he couldn't deny that he was rather tempted to take it as a sign. But he decided to answer nonetheless.

"I don't have a girlfriend..not at the moment anyway." "*Well that's interesting, have you thought of dating a* **mafia's daughter?**" she replied, dropping the biggest hint of all time, until he realized, no wonder why the gang was after her. He should let her go right? The thought of having her as a girlfriend was still tempting..her attractiveness, her flirtatious attitude, it was too much to ignore.

"Are you offering?" "Maybe I am, offering you a taste?" she leaned closer towards him slowly. It was obvious, that she a tease, still not kissing him, just yet, but their faces were just inches apart. Abbacchio held his breath. Her words were tempting, her attitude was tempting..and her lips were certainly tempting- all she had to do was just close the space between them and they'd be locked in a passionate kiss...

He felt like he might die if he didn't go through with their kiss. He wanted to play her game and play it perfectly. Her words had been tempting since she said them and he could only answer with one answer. 

Abbacchio took in a deep breath and nodded his head. **The flames are getting higher, and so is his desire. It's kind of exciting, don't you think?

"Am I playing a dangerous game, officer?" she teased, still not kissing him, just yet, she wanted to see how far this would go.

The policeman was gritting his teeth in anticipation. It was a dangerous game she was playing, and he knew he shouldn't play it. She was involved with the mafia after all. But the temptation was too much to pass up. He had to do it. The smell of her perfume still lingered, making it much more inviting.

"It's a very dangerous game." 

Abbacchio finally caved in. He knew he couldn't control himself anymore. He closed the distance and pulled her towards him, giving in their passionate kiss. She crashed on her lips softly, melting right down on this gothic policeman, without shame, he was worth a one-night stand, but she didn't really care, their kisses became hotter and hotter each second, he gripped her body, forcing her onto his thighs, looking up at her. Their kiss has started to deepen. His lips brushed against hers as he pulled her even closer. This girl..she was too irresistible. Her flirting and teasing, even the danger of her being involved with the mafia. He just wanted more. She touched his badge and looked up at him. "Abbacchio was it?" she kissed him once more, not enough of his kisses, at this point the purple lipstick has been worn off at this point, some even staining her lips.

"That is my name, yes." "So officer~" the way she said was so enticing, 

"What am I supposed to do now?" she felt his hands roaming all across her body, as if he owned her right here, no tonight, he could do whatever he wanted for tonight. 

"Will I be forgiven for this, officer?" she was like a crime he must commit just for tonight, a sin he wouldn't regret doing, for sure.

"I guess I'll have to figure out how to punish you for this..for now though, I'm sure you don't mind my hands on your body, hmm?"

His smile was quite teasing too and even though he was trying to appear professional, it was clear he was enjoying this quite a lot. He leaned back in and began kissing her again. He gave her a look that told her he was enjoying this as his hands stayed firmly on her hips. “Let’s make this exciting for the both of us,” he pulled out his revolver from his waistband, pointing at her head. He must tried it out at least, he needed to have the upper hand as well. "Officer, I will do anything to repent," her words were dripping as if it was made of honey, she wasn’t even fazed the gun barrel was pointed at her head, biting her lips. Things have gotten out of hand. "You will, will you?" he grinned of mischievous how he liked her under his power.

"How about you tell me what you'd do to repent- and I'll think about it and see if it's enough of a punishment for you." "First, I'd unbuckled that belt of yours and..." her eyes trailed downwards at the seat at the bulge forming in his navy blue pants and up to his golden purple eyes, that would be enough for his imagination to do the rest of the work. “Okay then, get to work, don’t just be an all talk,” he pressed the revolver harder on her skin, geez this man was full of sass, which made her actually take off his pants, obeying his orders, just as he wanted her to. "Oh, please don't shoot me yet, Mr Polizia, I will be good," she unravelled his hard cock from his underwear, palming it between her small hands trying to please him, her handcuffs were still on.

"So you'll be a better girl if I don't shoot you?"

He looked down at her with a teasing and tempting look, she was really quite the girl. This was the most teasing, dangerous girl he had ever come across on the job. “You know your small hands aren’t in good use, use your mouth,” he demanded, pointing the gun directly at her and even though he wasn't gonna shoot, she could clearly see the barrel against her. He looked at her with a teasing grin. She looked so pretty under him, and all the power he had on her. She nodded at his orders, bending down, licking his wet tip for a while, which made him have a satisfying moan, his impulse made him push his right hand on her head, pushing her mouth closely for the blowjob. His breath was shaky already as he felt every part of her mouth on his dick, he felt as if he was on cloud nine, it was all worth it. Worth it from a tiring shift, she was trying to suck him good, she looked like she was an expert at this, feeling his tip pushed against her throat, she was trying to be his only little good girl, a good girl just for Mr Policeman right here. Oh, how he’d wish he could possibly want her every night. Her mouth was starting to tire her, as all her saliva was all around his base, “Abbacchio, sir, are you satisfied yet?” she looked up at him for his mercy, for his approval, for his attention, with those orbs. “Not yet, I wanted to cum on your face,” he pointed the gun at her, demanding to resume her lips to work again. Her head bobbed again and again, trying to please him as much as she could, deepthroating him, her tongue twirling on his length. She liked how much vocal he was, praising her, for her good use of the mouth.

“My god, you weren’t lying when you said you will have your mouth in good use,” that was the best blowjob he received in his life so far, feeling every orgasm trying to rip from his heated skin. After minutes of torturing her throat, he finally gave in, painting on her face with his white liquids, with a satisfied smug face. “Uh, uh, uh, mi amore,” he had a menaced look over her with a tsk, “Who said I was done with you?” for a policeman like him, having stamina could be true. He bent her over, his gun still pointing at her. The time to show who is the monster here, not giving her a break.

“Look here, girl, *if you can't stand the heat. Then stay out of the fire,*” he groped all over breasts, throwing the gun away on the floor of the car. She happened to listen all to his command, like a good little girl, he pulled down her bottom clothing, his fingers trying to play her folds through her underwear, trying to tease her. “Oh, your cunt is wet here, *you might get what you desire*,” he put the underwear aside, rubbing on her clit, trying to gain some moans from her. Things are starting to get interesting. “I’m not putting on anything, yeah, just to warn you,” his cock tried to get between her wet folds, just like that. “I-uh, policia, please don’t you have a condom-” her mouth was shoved with the finger he got her pussy juices on. “Lick it up,” she couldn’t deny such requests from the hot officer, licking it, while he kept pounding her behind her back. Not enough, he needed to feel every wall of her just like that. “I’m going raw, so shut your pretty mouth like that,” He had an enormous speed, gripping her waist, her arms against the tinted glass, the car starting to fog up from the movements, “Listen here, little girl, and listen good,” he raised her body good, her boobs all over the window glass at this point, she screamed more as her G spot has been getting all this abuse from the sudden position.

“Please, please, have mercy on me, officer-” her words were cut as he pushed his fingers in her throat, attempting to shut her mouth. This man is indeed wild, the luckiest night for a girl like her. **”Even if you scream, or beg me to stop, or have mercy, I’m not stopping,”** he rutted inside her cunt as if it was meant to be shaped by his large cock.

“Not until I’m satisfied,” he hummed, using it as if she was a toy she was made just for him to fuck her. Her cries and moans filled the whole street, think to their luck no one was in the streets, a few maybe. Do you this man cares? No? **“Not like you can stop me anyways, hmm?”** he didn’t stop his thrusts, her pussy aching from all the movements, their moans were in unison. She was already tired at this point, getting the slaps on her buttocks, his hand making her chin move just to kiss him as he kept railing behind her back, his lusts and desires being fulfilled by this one girl. “If you keep doing like that, I might-” she panted for air, she needed for a moment there, “I might, cum~” her body squealed in pleasure, holding all her sanity.

It was prolonged sex for sure, he finally had to urge to orgasm, he pulled out in time, cumming all over her body, she really looked pretty as if he was the artist, painting more cum on the belly. “Know your place, just like that,” he looked coldly into her eyes, he didn’t have time for this right? The aftercare was little, he threw her tissues and a bottle of water he had in the car, putting on his clothes, he did let her go this time, unlocking her sore wrists, and going back to his driver seat. 

He did drove her back to her motorbike was at, even opening the door for her to get out, after minutes of silence, he kissed her forehead softly, like a gentleman would, before he finally let her go. But one thing for sure is that it was one of the best nights he’d ever had with a girl. A sucker for romance, *lovin’ a hurricane*

part 2?

[ranticore]

Hi has anyone ever told you Ice Storm Over Kosa has impeccable vibes and feels incredibly innovative and fresh!

In terms of the towns and communities, what types of infrastructure connects them? What kinds of technologies are common vs cutting edge in the setting’s different time periods?

hehe thank you.. i really like how the setting tag is just one of the character's names so it looks like you're saying He has impeccable vibes

<3

So there is a huge huge almost insurmountable limiting factor when it comes to the growth of towns and communities, which is that large aggregations of living creatures will attract the crawly beasts and they pollute the earth, make crops wither and die away, kill livestock, kill people, etc, and humans can't even touch them with protective gloves on since the crawlers' fluids eat through leather

humanity (and monsters) were forced to spread out over a larger surface area. villages and settlements are small and have to be actively defended almost nightly. there has been a slight stagnation of the march of progress, as just fighting off this threat takes up so much of everyone's resources, and forbids institutes of learning and the like from forming. so most of the technological advancements we see, they are in the field of long-range communication, weaponry (falconry too), and material technology that might repel crawling beasts

in prehistory, the land now called "the Ama plains" hosted a gigantic city with a hundred thousand people living in it, called Amphora. it was very advanced for its time period, with working plumbing, hot and cold water even, mass production of cloth and food, etc (not to mention the magic). Amphora no longer exists and most of its innovations were lost.

in the early time period after the arrival of the crawling beasts, humanity and monsterkind are scattered. the only established settlements are those guarded by wyrms, but it took many centuries to reach that point. human towns are ruled by small feudal lords who may form loose alliances with one another but typically rule their land as if it's a lone island in the middle of a vast sea. this is the time of Revelation's march. the most established settlement is the city of Onozar in the far west of Ama, which is ruled by a king who has a hold over many of the neighbouring towns and lords, by virtue of Onozar's size and relative safety. technology levels are low; no firearms, trebuchets and crossbows are cutting edge.

in the time of Twist and Flicker, there is an age of unprecedented cooperation with monsters (Revelation's march might have had something to do with this change). This means that towns and villages are now usually protected by something other than a wyrm - this ranges from willing cooperation to cruel self-styled 'monster tamers' who force monsters to do their bidding. This is the dawning age of harpy falconry as described in the lil story i wrote about Ice Storm of Kosa himself, though back then the old method was to make a contract with an adult harpy and cooperate that way. The infrastructure is still not very advanced; they're still struggling with plumbing and sewage systems, because crawlies come out of the ground and their poison can seep into aquifers. Anyway communication between towns is usually done by pigeon (or pigeon harpy). The ground is not a safe place to be, so houses are typically built on short stilts, or at the very least, residential rooms are upstairs. Water supply is often provided by elevated aqueducts; wells are a last resort, but often the only choice for impoverished villages. There is a culture of fear surrounding large gatherings and groups - sometimes it's unavoidable, and human/monster nature, but that anxiety is always there.

With this increased cooperation between humans and monsters, people are able to gather in larger groups. this enables more learning, more apprenticeships, more farmlands, and a more rapid development of technology. It also means a more centralised ruling system begins to form; it takes a lot of resources to supply a pack of wolfmen or a harpy flock to defend a town, so small towns must make petitions to their more prosperous neighbours, and this develops into a Government of the entire region. firearms develop in this time as a means to kill crawling beasts; they are not that successful, and it takes a while before people realise you can use firearms to kill other things, too.

A century later, developments are progressing well enough. Firearms are still rare but starting to spread. Harpy falconers have developed a new, effective technique for their art, it's called "kidnapping"; steal an egg, and raise the chick to imprint on its human parents. that way it won't want to leave. There is a sense of teetering on an edge; humanity leaning more into forcing monsters to help, instead of cooperating. But this is not the progression; the success of the Kosa flock helps convince many falconers that the kidnapping method isn't the best after all. technology is still uh bad, but this is an era where writing materials are finally becoming more mainstream, literacy rates are slowly rising. the printing press is the hot new thing. they have water towers now to provide the plumbing at a safe elevation. communication between villages is still very dove-based, since flight is the safest method of travel.

fire is the only thing that both kills and neutralises the poison of a crawling beast. by this time, progress has been made to develop "automatic fire machines". so all the R&D people put into guns in the real world was put into flamethrowers instead. it's easy enough to rig up a system that pumps out burning oil, but these devices are usually stationary, heavy, and fixed at the gates of the various more prosperous town walls.

[misirosekisiro]

Unexpected Delivery

It was certainly an unlucky day for the pizza boy. His last delivery of the day brought him to the outskirts of town. He really wanted to complain to the call center about still listing this area as a viable delivery zone. But it didn’t matter—work was work, and it had to be done.

When it rains, it pours. After completing his delivery and heading back to the store, he suddenly felt a sharp twist in his stomach. Something he ate earlier that morning definitely wasn’t sitting well. Frantically, he looked around for a restroom.

That’s when he spotted a public park. Several men in dark blue t-shirts and shorts were working on cleaning drainage ditches and fixing public utilities, while a few police officers stood nearby, keeping watch. But that wasn’t what he was looking for. His eyes scanned further and noticed a public restroom in a far corner of the park. It seemed abandoned, much like most of the park itself. No wonder—this place was far from any residential area, and no one came here.

Without hesitation, he revved up his delivery motorbike, parking it just outside the restroom. He rushed inside, his urgency overtaking any sense of caution.

The restroom was downright creepy—dirty, abandoned, and without electricity. The only saving grace was that the water supply still worked. He hurried into one of the stalls and finally relieved himself, the ordeal leaving him exhausted.

Several minutes later, as he exited the stall and zipped up his jeans, a hand clamped over his mouth while another gripped his waistband tightly.

“Shhh… Quiet,” a voice hissed. “No need to put them back on. You’ll have to take them off anyway.”

Minutes later, the pizza boy lay dazed and confused. The stranger, now dressed in his delivery uniform, smirked.

“As I thought, your clothes are too tight for me, but they smell much nicer than mine, which I’ve been wearing all day in that ditch. Clean briefs, too—what a treat! Oh, don’t worry about it; it’s better than being completely naked, right? Oh, and thanks for your wallet, phone, and that delivery motorbike. It’s going to help me out a lot. What an unexpectedly nice delivery! Don’t worry—by evening, those cops will find you while they’re out looking for me. Bye!”

With that, the stranger disappeared into the distance, leaving the pizza boy to process the most bizarre and unlucky delivery of his life.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Fans Confused After Alison Victoria Lists ‘Dream Home’ For Sale. Wait. Her GA loft didn't sell, and she was supposed to be selling that to finance a new place in the Cabbagetown section of Chicago. Now, I'm confused, too. Anyway, this is an ugly ass building. The 4bd, 3.5ba, property is listed for $3.5M. Let's have a look (if you recall, Alison is the designer who did the "Ugliest House" I posted yesterday.)

Victoria worked to transform her office space into a residential home, which she envisioned as “the biggest, the baddest, the sexiest live-work dream home I could ever imagine.”

Although she’s called it her “Dream Home” home for several months now, fans online noticed that Victoria is quietly planning to part ways with her live-work space. What is going on?

She has posted photos from her dream home as recently as April 9, just before the building hit the real estate market. Well, I like the muted green chairs and planters. The floor is reminiscent of Alice in Wonderland.

One fan brought the home’s listing to an HGTV fan community on Reddit, where other users chimed in with their thoughts about the sale. (I'm an avid Redditor.)

“I thought she was building this to be her dream home/workspace? Or was this always to sell right away?” one fan wondered, with another guessing in response, “In reality it was always just content for her show.”

So, that's just a mantel with candles, then.

“I don’t think many people would be interested in buying this but it might work for someone who has a business and can live on the premises like what she claimed it was intended for," said another fan.

"I think more than likely it would be an event space esp for a wedding w/the option to stay overnight," said a 3rd fan.

Interesting wall with the big niche for decor, oven and 2 wine fridges.

One user pointed out in the comments, “There are no windows! I’d go crazy ! No, the sky lights not enough." Yeah, it's like an underground house.

Shoot, no matter how nice it is, I like the lighted shelving, no windows is a deal breaker. I'd feel imprisoned.

Interesting en-suite.

“The closets are full of clothes and shoes. Not staged stuff, real stuff," said a fan.

Nice little home theater lobby with a snack counter.

This is it? I was expecting a home theater, not a TV room.

Interesting light strand in the powder room.

Long hall to the wide industrial stairs.

One of the other bedrooms. I can't deal with just skylights, I gotta see what the weather's like and all.

One of the other baths. My love of floating sinks is kind of leery of something this big. I feel like it would break loose eventually.

"The mudroom looks like it has a little kid's jackets or maybe they’re just tiny women’s jackets. regardless, it looks like Alison or a family is living there. Interesting,” another fan pointed out.

Exercise depresses me enough, let alone doing it in this room.

I'm gonna say that this is the work area, where the team gathers to discuss design. Interesting that this is the area that has the windows.

The garages in the back of the building.

I'm no designer, but this building wouldn't have appealed to me as a home/work space. I would look for an end unit with more windows.

https://heavy.com/entertainment/hgtv/alison-victoria-lists-dream-home-sale/

https://www.coldwellbankerhomes.com/il/chicago/2733-n-pulaski-rd/pid_58881660/

[unopenablebox]

i may have posted about this before but on my way home from work i often walk down a quiet mixed residential/commercial street in a very residential area. & there's one block that's all small local businesses. like, a florist, a barber shop, the glasses place where the owner found out i lost my vision insurance since the last time i was there & took $100 off the price of my glasses, that kind of thing

and one kind of recessed dark storefront that i didn't register at all the first few years i lived here, but recently suddenly seemed to be some kind of nightclub? and one which, based on the people who normally stand outside in line and/or vaping, caters principally to transgender goths in their 30s

ive now been walking past this place for months but was finally prompted to look them up online by my delight at their sign out front advertising a children's goth dance party featuring a full chocolate milk bar

anyway, it turns out it's a nightclub for transgender goths.

[drum-cu-naluci]

Could you elaborate on the path you think Romania is on? What do you mean by that?

I wrote a long-ass smart reply that got lost once this fucking page refreshed, reminding me why I was writing longer shit in word first. So let me try again, maybe this time better and more coherent with a new idea or two.

Let me start with the latest which made me write that. We seem to have started building places according to what I’d call “car culture”. You’ve got to have a car to get from the fancy, rat infested minefields they call residential areas, americanly known as the suburbs. Yes, the natural habitat of the common oblivious white mom who delivers her kid to the private school downtown in her Toyota, which is also her only way to get to a supermarket for her organic, definitely not overpriced or plastic tomatoes. Unless she orders them and the “browny” guy coming from an underdeveloped country to be paid minimum wage here, does it for her. Public transport and walking is only for the brave and psychos. No judgy if you still do those.

Next on my list would be the multiple job opportunities in the wonderful glass buildings, those microsofty architectural wonders which occupied the unsanitary parcels of #chernobilcore areas, saving us from the trouble of allergies from stuff like ambrosia, which grows like crazy on every private property whose owner probably got Alzheimer or dementia and forgot it ever existed. Those marvelous pieces of shit architecture also save us from the dangers of getting new parks, which are known for the rats and also homeless people. While the first ones can still get in a corporate environment through the venting system, the homeless don’t know that they could as well join a soul-devouring family that would literally work them to death for income. But if it works in Silicon Valley, why wouldn’t it do the trick for us too? If you’re not homeless and you still have a wife, a husband, a kid or more to go back to, then make sure you’ve got some good photos for them to put in your spot at the table while you work overtime again, God knows why.

Since I hate this topic, I have more on it.

The fast living style. How do you live fast enough to make sure you do as much as possible for your totally not ruthless job in the tall-ass liminal glass building erected by the handy “brownies” in less than 2 months? I don’t fucking know, I guess you just have to get your hands on the quickest foods and snacks you can, ideally without leaving the keyboard. Otherwise, how can you die on it? Don’t worry about wasting time on wasting more time once it is over, the companies’ got you covered. Have fun with your sack of Doritos the size of the guy who picked the corn for it.

It’s not all bad. We’re also giving it a try to some sort of sexual revolution which is a funny thing to do in a country where the church’s power works like we’re living in a very ugly XVII century court. The enforced purity through heavy censorship found in the days of communism is now becoming no more than a memory and we have to thank all the movies and shows that offer the closest we can get to soft porn on public television. Maybe some sunny day, which could be any day now since we’ve had 20 degrees in fucking January, we get that with them gays. Unless the fascists and priests implement Gilead. Not like both of them do it together or something like that. That would be gay.

I don’t know if I’ve touched all points I did in the message fate kindly destroyed in the form of the secret services who hate a girl dropping facts, but I tried to make sense. Anyway, anyone with some more ideas to ad or who just want to contradict me, the reblog and reply are all yours. I am mad as hell and also heavily anxious so I’m down for anything keeping my mind busy.

[wingherc]

@gaiaspoken

｢𓆄｣ There's no point in going back home to Cotes now, not when he's already in the Archimedes ward, actually. Though he was tempted to turn his phone back on, anxiety for what messages might load onto his phone when it goes back online creep into his mind. Hawks really didn't want to deal with that right now. He just...

Wanted to go home. And one statement rang through his mind.

'You are home, silly.'

Once he recalled that statement, that was when the heartache and longing had really set in. Hawks missed her more than he initially realized, even.

Shaky legs picked up to a brisk pace, muscle memory being the only thing dragging him to the residential area of Archimedes. Her home is tucked away in a private corner, the porch light indicating she was indeed inside. Which...Typically meant the front door was unlocked, at least, that's what he could recall from when he stopped by with flowers for her that first time he came over.

Well, hopefully it was unlocked, if not, he was about to scare the shit out of her by slamming into a locked door...

In one fell moment, Hawks pressed his body weight against the door as he pressed down on the handle, effectively swinging the door open. He looked a mess, those windswept wild curls were wild for all the wrong reasons. His eyes heavy with bags indicating he'd been sleeping like hell, and just in general how disheveled he looked, he just looked totally different from the last time she had seen him.

"Aerith!!" He called out, not that he really needed to, given he might've accidentally scared her with how loud his entrance was. But, just shouting her name was enough to make him realize the weight of it all, the weight enough to bring him to his knees at her front door. "Aerith..." Her name spoken in succession, like it was the only thing that could escape his tongue...And for the moment: that was true.

Hawks couldn't even vocalize anything further, as he felt his arms that were bracing him from the floor, begin to shake as he could only choke out some sobs. Tears welling up, and crashing against the hardwood floors. He couldn't even remember the last time he cried like this, let himself be exposed at his rawest and most vulnerable.

"I'm....Sorry." He starts, as he slowly drags his head up to meet her gaze, he didn't deserve her eyes on him. Yet, here they were. He felt like he put her through so much of his drama, and she asked nothing of him. It wasn't fair to her, no one should have to deal with that. But, she stayed anyway, dealing with his heroics and whatever else that entailed. Which, unfortunately: included this. "It felt wrong to just keep up with what we've built here. I had to run. Not to escape it..." As he spoke through his tears, eventually, he was able to at least bring himself to his knees, wiping at his eyes with his forearm. "It all hit me at once. The reality of what's going on. It was...Too much."

Then, flashes of Nagant's story align with his own in his mind, effectively: he was raised with the intention of being a weapon for the Commission, not much else. While that has no bearing to him in Spirale, it still weighed on his mind.

And that beckoned the question.

"Are you really okay with loving someone who was raised to kill?"

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers West Coast #67: "CONVERGING TRAJECTORIES"

February, 1991

By Avengers BETRAYED!

Okay, so Hawkeye, Quicksilver, and Tigra have been turned into robots. Tigra still having normal hair is weirding me out. Because she's covered by fur and that turned into metal. Quicksilver's ridiculous hair is covered by the logo so I can't tell if its metal or not. But I just want some consistency.

Anyway. We continue the Reaper and the Robot arc. Which seems to be about Grim Reaper, now a life force guzzling zombie, and Ultron, a robot.

Last times, Wonder Man learned his brother was alive again and killing people to stay alive. He's got a bee in his bonnet about it, believing that every person the Reaper kills is his responsibility for not stopping him. When the Avengers had different priorities, he stormed off to look for Grim Reaper alone.

Meanwhile, the Avengers are investigating robot farmers and helicopters secretly spraying stuff at night that seems to be giving people a case of skin turning into metal.

Hawkeye got the idea to check an abandoned subway tunnel and went off without telling anyone. Quicksilver and Tigra tailed him (without telling anyone where they were going) and then they discovered and got captured by Ultron.

Who is going to spray them with spray that turns them into robots.

Archie Robotnik, eat your heart out.

Ultron has a lot to say about life and such. But his plan to turn mankind into robots is well on its way, with his robot farmers putting the roboticizing compound on wheat and his helicopter spraying it over residential areas at night.

Currently, he only has a few hundred people fully converted into robot puppets. But every day, that number multiplies.

Ultron has some of his robot puppets stage a street brawl to lure Iron Man into a fight, just to see how well they hold up in a fight with a superhero.

I love Tony thinking "they haven't managed to do me any real damage" a second before getting hit with an entire street light.

Anyway, once Tony starts actually trying, he knocks out the three roboticzied humans in fairly short order. And then he's at a loss of what to do with them since they're the victims here.

Ultron is pretty satisfied with how the fight went, even though his dudes lost. Because his mental control over his robot puppets, his andrones, is so complete, he experienced the fight as if he was there in person.

Meanwhile, Grim Reaper has been spying on Ultron's monologuing and was startled to hear that Ultron was going to turn humanity into robots, leaving him no one to feed on.

He's been sneaking up behind Ultron this whole time but Ultron knew he was there.

Ultron lunges at Grim Reaper, who lashes out defensively and manages to cut the adamantium of Ultron's arm.

Ultron finds that a bit fascinating. I'm guessing it's because magic. The scythe is magic now and sidesteps durability.

Having his arm cut doesn't really hinder Ultron because he has auto-repair. A healing factor if you will. Adamantium plus healing factor. Hmm...

He's a better Wolverine than Wolverine. And what he does isn't pretty.

Ultron realizes that Grim Reaper is dead now and decides that he may as well test out some theories he has about the Reaper and his scythe having developed a symbiotic relationship.

Using his laser eyes, which he has, why wouldn't he?, he fuses the scythe to Grim Reaper's arm so it can't be removed. Which the Grim Reaper actually likes.

Ultron: "You who are dead yet 'live' -- and I who am the ultimate synthetic embodiment of life -- we shall make quite a team, Reaper!" Grim Reaper: "Yes, Ultron. Quite a team."

Ah, I see. I said Ultron wouldn't like turning the world into robot puppets because he wants someone to monologue to. If Grim Reaper is joining him, then he'll always have someone around to talk at.

Grim Reaper explains that he needs to murder someone every 24 hours to keep 'alive' and Ultron says he would offer him one of the three Avengers but their transformation into robots is too far along.

Later and elsewhere, Dr Pym and Wanda have come to UCLA to borrow their new super-computer. Dr Falk, who I guess is in charge of it, isn't keen on letting superheroes get involved in an academic institution and doesn't even care how important the reason is. But someone over her head has authorized it so she just tells Hank he has five hours.

What Hank wants to do is to study the scrap of the robot farmers he and Janet encountered and the metal flakes that stuck to US Agent's gloves when he confronted that protester with the metal rash, and see if he can establish a connection.

You know, the usual superhero thing. I wonder why he needed the UCLA super-computer. Don't the Avengers have top-of-the-line lab equipment?

Anyway, Hank starts doing some science and Wanda starts feeling like a third wheel. Without her powers, there's not a lot she can offer the team and wonders whether she should even stay on the team.

But while she's musing on that for an hour, Hank makes a breakthrough! He's fairly certain he can cure the metallic rash, if the case isn't too advanced! With light, of all things!

Then the three roboticized Avengers burst in through the skylight and backhand Hank unconscious.

Wanda realizes that they're not in their right minds and yells at Quicksilver not to let someone turn him into a murder.

And then Dr Falk comes in yelling about the racket so robo-Quicksilver throws Wanda into Dr Falk, knocking both women out. The three roboticized Avengers then start trashing the lab.

This is why Dr Falk didn't want to let superheroes use the equipment!

But Iron Man, US Agent, and Wasp rush in for the rescue!

Iron Man called the other two and had them assemble on Hank's location after taking those random andrones to the hospital and having them checked out.

He warns the other Avengers not to let themselves be hit. With the andrones having a lot of their meat replaced with metal, getting hit by them is like getting run over by a tank.

Wasp wants to hear ideas for how to stop the androne Avengers without hurting them and Iron Man isn't sure they can be stopped.

And I see where he's coming from. The three formerly normal andrones he fought weren't really a match for him but they were tough. And if you combine superpowers with that... That's just scary.

But also, Iron Man doesn't want to hurt his friends. Especially since they're under someone else's influence.

Meanwhile, US Agent is okay with fighting an androne Hawkeye. He would have preferred to punch the flesh and blood version. Because US Agent has a chip on his shoulder the exact size and shape of the Grand Canyon.

And also he punches a metal man in the face and goes ow my bones.

Wonder Man shows up to help. And hopefully is ready to accept that this whole robot farmers thing was something that needed looking into.

Simon flies past, snagging Tigra off Iron Man's back by the hair and then flies her into Hawkeye.

Meanwhile, Iron Man tests out his new magnet function.

He just lifts Quicksilver off the ground so he can't go anywhere.

Kind of the logical weakness to a guy whose whole thing is running really fast.

I give it props for a fun device for Tony just to have already equipped in his armor.

Hank recovers from being backhanded and yells at Iron Man that light is probably the answer. So Iron Man configures his chest uni-beam to blast out different kinds of light radiation until he hits the right one.

Infrared light knocks the andrones the fuck out! It doesn't cure them but Hank thinks maybe the right frequency of infrared might do it.

He's kinda just guessing, though. He didn't even know infrared was the key until five seconds ago.

I assume that the uni-beam shoots out concentrated infrared but it's still a secret weakness for Ultron's big plan to turn humanity into robots. Isn't infrared everywhere?

Wanda asks Simon whether he's still looking for his brother. And Wonder Man says he is. But if his brother is looking for whoever is turning people into robots, then Simon can work the same case and probably run into Eric.

Dr Falk comes out to yell at the Avengers some more and the funniest thing is, they don't even react to her.

Just completely do not respond to her.

Because, it's not a productive line of accusation to humor, honestly.

Iron Man starts trying different frequencies of infrared to try to cure Tigra, Quicksilver, and Hawkeye. But he despairs that there are an infinite number of frequencies and it could take years to get the right one by random guessing.

And by trying over and over again, Iron Man is straining the uni-beam. If it burns out, it could take days to get equivalent equipment.

But talking about the odds makes Wanda wish that her powers could come back, even if for just a second. Just long enough to alter the probabilities of finding the right frequency to yes.

Wanda waves her hands around and scrunches her face in CONCENTRATION and maybe it works!

There could have been ambiguity if Dr Pym hadn't yelled 'ah ha, the Scarlet Witch must have altered probability to make it more likely that we'd succeed.'

Ffs Hank, you don't always have to be right about everything.

So, I guess Wanda's powers are back? Everyone is acting like that's the case.

Although, the infrared-ing was only mostly successful. Hawkeye is left with a metal hand. And he even grouses that he wishes that they left him a brainless robot puppet so he wouldn't have to be a freak with a metal hand.

Punch him in the future, Winter Bucky.

The three dingbats, Tigra, Hawkeye, and Quicksilver don't remember running into Ultron, finding his lair, all of that.

Hank wants to use the UCLA computer to figure out which infrared frequency worked to cure the metal-izing.

Does... Does Iron Man's armor not track that information? That's an odd choice.

Dr Falk yells that the Avengers can't use the super-computer again but Iron Man goes nuh uh, we have special Avengers priority so yes we can.

This again makes me think that the East Coast Avengers had their charter revoked but the West Coast Avengers didn't. What an odd decision.

Anyway, Dr Pym can't shake a worry that whoever (Ultron) is behind the metal rash will strike before they're ready and will change a large number of people into robot slaves.

BECAUSE HANK ALWAYS HAS TO BE RIGHT ABOUT THINGS. He is exactly right.

Ultron is planning to hit the Rose Parade.

And Grim Reaper is planning to start a human farm, so he'll always have a private stock and a breeding population.

What a story this is.

Next time, switching back over to the Avengers for their dealings with the Tetrarchs of Entropy and to see if the reserve squad does anything.

Next next time, more the Reaper and the Robot.

Follow @essential-avengers for more of this exact kind of thing. Like and reblog to show appreciation. Comment maybe? Follow your heart.

[squid-socks]

My “WHY???👀👀👀” list. If you are non-disabled or non-neurodivergent please read✨

(These are things that suck imo - the bare minimum is to be aware something isn’t fucking working and seeing it. Bcs the more you know the more you realise why you don’t see many disabled or neurodivergent people - spoiler; THEY CANT GO ANYWHERE)

constant building works. From fucking with your accessible journey to overstimulating the brain✨ I hate to imagine how much more id get done in a day if the constant drilling of building works literally everywhere didn’t take half my spoons to tune out.

Noise pollution in general. In a cafe people don’t use their inside voices, establishments don’t set up quieter areas or infrastructure that absorbs sound, main roads are always close to residential areas and buildings are not built to tune out their horrible noise. Sound✨

Heavily scented areas or perfumes. You are killing your fellow asthmatic and anyone with a tendency to have migraines👀👀 (you don’t need 10 lit candles in a non-personal area. And you don’t need to drink strong perfumes so it seeps out of all of your pores🫶)

Escalators being far from elevators and requiring staff assistance at all times. It’s just stupid. It is. It is just SO FUCKING STUPID AND I SHOULD NOT HAVE TO EXPLAIN WHY??? JUST PUT THE ELEVATOR BY THE ESCALATORS AND SHUT UP✨✨

Not having public bathrooms or putting them in weird places or making them by request only??? I shouldn’t have to run to the 4th floor of a far away mall bcs I have to vomit whilst my knees feel on fire??? And the more bathrooms the less gross each bathroom will be bcs LESS TRAFFIC???👀👀👀 like what????

Bit more random - but recluse spaces. There should be spaces people can hide away and recover from the noise and the bustle and the questions. I shouldn’t have to have a cigarette to be respected needing to leave and get some air👀 I shouldn’t have to smell shit and hear people farting to get away from everyone for a minute (bathrooms)👀

Those stupid tiny handled coffee cups👀👀 no. Just no. It could be the biggest cup but it still has that stupid little handle?? No. My hands hurt. Old people’s hands hurt. WHO IS THIS GOOD FOR. WHY DONT YOU HAVE ALTERNATIVES😂 (just a few mugs for people to request)

No brail anywhere. This is the dumbest of the dumb. Even more when I find brail it’s like 2 letters?? Granted - I don’t know brail but I imagine if I need like 100 words of information on my sandwich then 2 letters is not enough for them!??? What????👀👀 if you’re blind I hope you don’t have allergies or something?😀😀 (though I suppose not text to sprach exists which is wonderful✨)

The underground trains. I’m not explaining I think every single variation of a disabled or neurodivergent person can offer a litany of complaints and issues.

The sun. This one’s a me thing. But I hate that glowing satanic butthole in the sky😑 (good for plants tho…which is nice.)

Now this one may sound a bit much but - wheelchair paths. Or walking issue paths. We have the bike lane, the pedestrian area and on the most inner side to the wall or bushes (for safety reasons) a disability path. So wheelchairs or the slower can just do their thing no problem✨ we anyway should have less cars so…I mean…we could just replace the roads🌈 idk add those rope, electric carriage things I see in Germany all the time🫶

Why are the pedestrian paths in parking houses so skinny?? Anyone bigger than me is half out the fucking safety zone👀👀👀😀

Heavy doors. No bcs what the fuck. I don’t want to have to press my whole body against an icky door to open it. And now imagine I’m on my own in a wheelchair just fucking trapped👀 or I’m too germaphobic to touch the door or everything hurts 😑😑

Lamps where the switch is in the cable and not the lamp. Fuck that.

Sunscreen. I love her but the overstimulation is bullshit😭😭 I think I’d rather wear a balaclava

If I have to squeeze through an isle in a store - it’s too close together. Fuck you. 😀 and before someone tells me “it’s cultural” or “it’s a small store”. no it’s just inaccessible. Culture should not be an excuse for ableism👀 My grandma is German is it ok if she is out here hating foreigners. FUCK NO.👀👀👀

Information boards being so low down. Why? No one can see that. Some of them have brail but why should someone have to bend over all the way to touch it😑

Imma stop I’m getting too angry 😅😅

I realise this is on a disability blog with disability hashtags so no idea how helpful this will genuinely be. But for now it was nice to vent. Which may help no one but it helped me a little😀

[copperbadge]

Whenever I think about “mental images” or “a song stuck in your head” these days, I think about aphantasia and how that impacts perception. (Aphantasia is the condition of not seeing images or hearing sounds in your head -- most of the population does, but those with aphantasia do not, or do to a very diminished degree.) 

I’ve talked about how I don’t have locked mental images of my characters or their homes and such. Things can move around as needed -- like a sofa can move across a room, or a lamp might change tables, depending on what the action needs. I assumed nobody actually had mental images, it was just an agreed-upon method of describing nonvisual imagination. Having found that’s not the case at roughly the same time as I was diagnosed with ADHD (a few months apart) I think about it a lot. 

Recently I was playing with form and picked up the thread of an idea I’ve had for years, which is to write a novel as if it were a guidebook to the place you’re reading the novel about (I’m sure it’s been done before, and Italo Calvino has done something like it with Invisible Cities, I just think it would be fun to try). It occurred to me that while I don’t visualize things in terms of furniture in a living room or where people are in a space, I do have a firm and unchanging idea of what a city as a whole looks like, including some mental images.

Even before visiting Menton Garavan, where Fons-Askaz is located in an alternate world, I definitely knew what went where in Fons-Askaz. I know what the harbor and coastline are shaped like, where most of the local residential housing versus the tourist housing is, how the main street is shaped and where several landmarks sit along it, their names and what purpose they serve. I know where the one really divey dive bar is. And I do see images of all of them, but only partial -- specific angles of sight, mainly (I can see both main entrances to the pedestrian shopping area called the Promenade, but not most of the Prom itself, for example). 

When I considered this, I realized I could do it to a limited extent for Galia also, and for other fictional places I’ve written about, like Lea from Six Harvests or Low Ferry from Nameless. I could draw rough maps of most of those places -- I don’t have the map itself in my head, but rather a combination of non-visual knowledge and a series of vague mental snapshots. I don’t know the actual layout of the palace, but I know what it looks like from the train station and I know what I would see standing at the windows in Gregory and Eddie’s apartment. I can see about three different views of Wild Mayer’s farm in Six Harvests, and I know the layout of Lea’s main street. It’s like for every fictional city or town that I’ve written about, I have a series of mental postcard images. 

I have no idea why, or what it means. Probably it’s just that like many neurodiverse people I navigate by landmark, and I live in a city so recognizing urban landmarks and “views” is vital. I don’t need to “navigate” my apartment so I don’t care where the sofa is, but I have to know what the neighborhood looks like when we’re getting close to my bus stop so I know when to ring the bell to get off. 

Possibly it means I should have become an urban planner. 

Kind of fun, anyway, now that I’ve figured out I can do it. I can’t really “walk around” Fons-Askaz, but I can do a sort of flyover. 

[extralively]

Bringing You Home

Gojo Satoru/Original Female Character NSFW 9,268 words (jfc) Also posted on AO3 Summary: After leaving a boring clan event, Satoru brings Yura with him to his private quarters on the Gojo Estate. Yura gets to snoop a bit in what is essentially Satoru's childhood bedroom, before the two of them actually get started with the, ahem, after-party...

Here's the new oneshot in the Under the Cover of Shadows series! It takes place immediately after chapter 1 of my fic Deeper in the Dark, but it could also be read as standalone. This was also supposed to be just smut, but then I got carried away playing with my headcanons as to what Satoru's childhood was like lmao and it ended up turning into a bit of a character study for him. Also there's smut.

Anyway, enjoy another accidentally long-ass oneshot! I know you guys were asking for this one, so hopefully I can deliver hehe

“Satoru, where are we going?” Yura asked as he tugged her along by the hand. The sounds of the clan event kept getting further away, which—good. Satoru already had enough dealing with annoying clan people for the night, so he was more than looking forward to just being him and Yura alone, and no one else.

“We’re going for a walk,” Satoru told her, shooting her a grin.

Yura had commented a couple of times about finding the Gojo Estate beautiful to look at, and Satoru supposed he couldn’t deny that fact—although, spending most of his childhood confined to this place did little to endear him to it, since for the longest time he simply couldn’t wait until he was free of all this.

He could, however, see the appeal in taking Yura out for a walk around the Estate, especially when there was no one else around. As the head of the clan, the Estate was something that could be considered unequivocally his territory, and there was an odd giddy feeling inside of him at being able to share it with Yura.

“Just for a walk?” Yura asked, an amused glint in her eyes as she looked up at him. She still kept her hand in his as they walked side by side.

“...For now,” Satoru replied, a sly grin of his own spreading across his face. “Let’s just take the scenic route for a little while.”

Yura only hummed in response, looking back to the front. Satoru was guiding them through a covered outdoor pathway, mostly due to the snow piled up on the ground. Small snowflakes still floated down from the sky every now and then, coating everything in a layer of white, and Satoru briefly lamented that the scenery around these parts was usually prettier during the spring.

Well, he would just have to bring Yura here again some other time, he thought to himself.

A chilly gust of wind passed by, and he felt Yura shiver next to him even if she was wearing the new coat he’d given her. She ended up stepping closer to him then, probably seeking more warmth—even though he was a little disappointed when her hand left his, he couldn’t complain much when she grasped his arm instead, first with one hand and then with her other one. And for the second time that night, Yura was clutching at his arm as she stayed glued to his side, and Satoru couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto his face.

They continued walking almost mindlessly through the outdoor paths, passing by several of the buildings that made up the Gojo Estate. Yura seemed to be curious about everything, asking him what each building was for—mostly different residences, he’d answered, although there were a couple of shrines scattered throughout. Most of the non-residential buildings were in a different area... and he supposed that he would just have to show her to those some other time.

“How many people live on the Estate?” Yura asked, still leaning against his side.

“Uh...” He stopped to think. “I’m not sure, actually. Mostly everyone with the Gojo name—you know, my uncles and aunts, their kids, their kids’ kids, some further apart cousins, the live-in employees and servants...”

“...Everyone except the clan head himself,” she replied with an amused smile, and she wasn’t wrong there.

Satoru nodded. “Yup.”

He’d had his family breathing down his neck for the entirety of his childhood and then some; this time, he wanted some actual freedomto live his life without their annoying meddling, thank you very much.

Yura let out a sigh, nodding slightly as she leaned against his side again. They continued walking some more, chatting sometimes, and sometimes just staying in comfortable silence. Satoru was too busy enjoying Yura’s presence there to worry about anything else.

But then her voice interrupted yet another stretch of quiet. “Satoru,” she called, and he turned his head to her. “This walk is going great and all... but are we getting somewhere soon? These heels are really starting to bother me...”

As Yura slowed down to a stop, pulling him with her, Satoru ended up getting a bit of déjà vu. That’s right—one and a half years ago, when Satoru had last brought Yura to the Estate with him, he’d also taken her on a walk like this after they’d left the event. He wasn’t exactly sure why he had decided to do that; he had simply grabbed her hand to pull her away from the stuffy ceremony they’d been forced to attend, and then... she just hadn’t pulled her hand away. So he’d just kept walking, until Yura had complained that her kimono had been a little too tight after all the food they’d eaten.

Satoru snorted. “Why is it always something when we go on walks like these?” He shot her a crooked grin. “Why must you interrupt this lovely atmosphere we have going on?”

Yura stuck her feet out, jiggling her shoe. “You were the one who got me these way too high heels to wear. It’s your fault that my feet can’t handle all this walking.”

Well, that was true. But she did look fantasticwith the heels on, along with the dress he’d gotten her for this event.

Satoru let out an exaggerated sigh, fully turning to face her. “Fine. We’ll go,” he said, but then he got déjà vu again as he stared at Yura in front of him.

...Ah. That’s right. That night, he’d also come this close to kissing her—this close. If Yura hadn’t looked away, he would have definitely done it. Back then, he had tried rationalizing it away as a momentary fluke—the way she had sat by his side in front of his entire clan as his wife had certainly done a number on him, and something inside of him had gotten a little too comfortable with the idea as they’d played along.

But to be honest, he now knew that calling it a fluke had only been him lying to himself, because he had also come this close to kissing her multiple times before and after. As it turned out, he had just really wanted to kiss Yura.

His lips twitched up.

And he could do that now, couldn’t he?

Without a word, Satoru simply leaned forward to press a quick kiss to her lips. When he pulled away, Yura was blinking up at him in surprise, slightly taken aback.

“...What was that for?” she asked, a little amused.

Satoru shot her a small grin. “Just ‘cause I can,” he told her.

Yura gave his chest a light slap, even as she was trying to bite back a smile.

“Alright, come on,” he eventually said, stepping closer to her. And just like last time, he wrapped his arms around her, tugging her body unnecessarily close to him. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, feeling her own arms wrap around his torso, before he teleported them both away.

---

Yura was a little confused when they reappeared somewhere still in the Gojo Estate and not in front of his car, like she had expected. They were in a hallway, in front of a closed sliding door, and it did look a little familiar... though Yura wasn’t exactly sure where they were.

“...Where are we?” she asked, stepping away from Satoru as his arms dropped from around her.

Satoru grinned as he moved toward the door. “Why, the party isn’t over yet,” he told her, sliding one side of the door open. “Or better yet, you can call this the after-party.”

As Yura peered inside the room, she suddenly remembered what this place was. These were Satoru’s private quarters inside the Gojo Estate, the ones he rarely used because, well, he didn’t really spend much time around these parts. He had brought her here once, some seven years ago on her first visit, saying that it was the one place where he could be free of his family when inside the Estate.

...Yura suddenly had an inkling as to what Satoru had in mind for this after-partyof his.

“I wasn’t aware there would be an after-party,” Yura said, even as she took off her heels before she stepped inside the room. “That wasn’t on the invitation.” ...There hadn’t really been an invitation.

Satoru was still grinning. “A surprise after-party then,” he said, starting to take off his own shoes. “But, really, you should have seen this coming.”

She really should have.

They both moved inside, Satoru turning on the lights before he helped her take off her coat, hanging it with his. Yura ended up getting a little distracted admiring the place again—this was essentially Satoru’s childhood bedroom, wasn’t it? Well, it was a little more than a bedroom—Yura was only familiar with the main sitting area where she and Satoru had had tea that one time, but there was still one doorway leading to what she knew to be the bedroom, and also another one that she wasn’t sure where it led to. It was almost like he had a whole apartment of his own inside his house, and Yura wondered how much time he would spend in here alone, given everything that he’d told her over the years...

“Young master?” a voice came from outside, following a knock on the door. The voice was familiar—that was Hanae, wasn’t it? Satoru’s old caretaker (read: babysitter), and probably the one person inside the Estate that he actually liked.

“Yeah?” Satoru replied, turning to the door and sliding it open again. Sure enough, Hanae was standing outside, and she gave him one deep bow in greeting before she spotted Yura, shooting the younger woman a warm smile and bowing to her as well.

“It’s good to see you again, Yura-san,” Hanae called, and Yura gave her a similar bow in greeting.

“You too,” Yura replied. She had first met Hanae on her first visit to the Estate, but they had definitely run into each other a few times in the years since. Mostly in Satoru’s apartment, since Hanae was the one coming in to tidy up his place every week; and since Yura had started spending more and more time over at Satoru’s... she had definitely begun to run into the older woman more often in the past year or so...

“I’m sorry to interrupt, young master,” Hanae said, bowing her head down to Satoru again. “But I’m afraid the head of the Kamo clan has requested your presence.”

Satoru’s mood suddenly did a one-eighty, and he let out an aggravated sigh. “Seriously? I’m busy—We can talk some other time.”

Hanae pressed her lips together for a moment. “...I’m afraid that this might be some official business,” she eventually said. “They stressed it was important—I believe it is regarding a possible marriage match between the two clans.” She shot him an apologetic smile.

Satoru was silent for a moment before his shoulders sagged. “Fine,” he caved, and Yura had to wonder if they’d sent Hanae here to fetch him because she seemed to have a way of talking him into things. Yura supposed that the other woman just had plenty of practice dealing with his difficult kid self. “But this’ll have to be quick—I don’t need to be involved in this...” he finished by grumbling out the words. He grabbed his coat with an exaggerated sigh, before he suddenly turned back to Yura and pointed a finger right at her face. “You. Don’t go anywhere,” he said in mock-seriousness. Then his face shifted into a grin. “The after-party is still on.”

Yura was trying to bite back a grin as she pretended to be bothered. “Just don’t take too long,” she said, setting a hand on her hip. “...Also, I can’t promise I won’t snoop.”

Satoru continued grinning as he slipped his coat back on. “Snoop away,” he said.

Satoru eventually left with Hanae, leaving Yura alone there in his private quarters. And as she turned away from the door, looking over the place, her urge to snoop was strong.

To start off, she shot the living area a long cursory glance as she gave the place a once-over. Not much seemed to have changed since her first visit—much like the rest of the house, this room was also elegantly decorated in mostly traditional Japanese décor, with a low table (a kotatsu, actually) in the center where she and Satoru had drank tea last time, a couch against a wall, and a few bookshelves scattered throughout. There was, however, a very modern TV on top of a console against the wall, but otherwise, this place could have passed as something from another time entirely.

And there also wasn’t much Satoru from what she could see, nothing that would really indicate this place as being his. She wondered if that was because he’d long since moved out and had probably taken most of ‘his’stuff with him—but Yura also remembered Satoru mentioning that he hadn’t actually been allowed to redecorate as a child, hence why he ended up going nuts decorating his dorm room after he’d moved into the school.

Yura strolled across the room, glancing at the books on the shelves as she moved past them to peek through the doorway that led to the bedroom. She flicked the light switch on as she walked through the door, taking in the sight; again, there wasn’t much there. A low bed against a wall, a couple of dressers on the other side (even though she was pretty sure one of the western-style doors in the room also led to a closet), a smaller low table with some seats on the far end of the room, and another TV on the wall—nothing very distinct. Was this really how his bedroom had always looked, or had this been redecorated after Satoru had grown up? The bed was way too big for one single kid, although the thought of a kid Satoru sleeping sprawled out on the king-sized bed was pretty amusing—and very on-brand. He did like to spread out; when she would sleep next to him, he would often use her as a mattress instead.

...Or maybe he just liked spreading himself on top of her.

For a little while, Yura busied herself examining the room, peeking in through the western-style doors (one a bathroom and the other, yep, a closet), and then deciding to indeed snoop by opening the drawers on Satoru’s bedside tables. Now this finally felt more like Satoru—mostly normal stuff like phone chargers, a tablet, some candy (she snorted—yep, that’s him); just regular stuff she knew he also kept by his bed in his own apartment. Opening the bottom drawer, however, finally revealed something that seemed more childhood-like: it was an old handheld game console, with a few game cases carefully stored next to it. Yura knew that Satoru must have had multiple different game consoles throughout the years (a few of which she’d seen him using back in school), and that he hadn’t actually kept most of them—so she had to wonder why this one. Maybe it had some kind of special significance, she theorized. She would just have to ask him later.

(She also found a box of tissues and, ahem, lotion, in one drawer, and Yura’s lips tugged up; now, was that a recent Satoru thing or was that a remnant from his teenage days, she wondered...)

Tired of snooping in the bedroom, Yura made her way back to the main sitting area and walked to the unknown closed room, her curiosity not yet sated. This unknown room turned out to be nothing more than some kind of study, or so she guessed—it also had a low table in the middle, but this one felt more like a desk, with the handful of papers and writing implements scattered on top of it. The number of bookcases spread around the room also helped give it that study feeling.

Yura moved further inside as she examined things with a careful eye, briefly noting that a lot of the books on the shelves actually looked more like textbooks. That’s right, Satoru had been largely homeschooled, hadn’t he? At least before going to Jujutsu Tech. Yura looked over at the desk, suddenly trying to picture child Satoru sitting there and studying diligently—and she snorted. Somehow, she had doubts—but he was infuriatingly smart regardless of how much time he had actually spent studying at school, so who knows. Maybe he’d just had a verythorough education beforehand.

As the picture of a young Satoru studying in this room stuck in her mind, though, Yura looked over the room again. Had this been where he’d studied—where he would take his lessons? Satoru had complained several times during school about the amount of time his family had forced him to spend studying (‘And so I can afford to take it easy now,’ he would tell her, much to her indignation as he simply skipped regular classes), but she would have expected his private quarters to have some kind of toy room attached to them, instead of this somber study room. And she somehow didn’t think it was because this room had been cleaned out since he’d moved away...

Yura sighed, looking around.

To be honest, the more she thought about Satoru’s childhood, the more it seemed oddly lonely. Sure, he was the strongest; sure, he had enough money to buy anything he could have possibly wanted... but what good did it do when he could only enjoy it all alone?

Satoru had told her all about his family keeping the fabled Gojo heir confined to the Estate for the entirety of his childhood—‘for his protection,’ they would say. Yeah, that was a reason, but that just meant that Satoru had grown up isolated—if not deliberately being kept away from most people, then just by virtue of being who he was. No wonder he had been such an asshole when they’d first met—that had been his first actual foray into the ‘real word’, hadn’t it? Aside from all those times he had snuck out as a kid (see, that’s what you get for being so overly controlling: you end up with a strongest sorcerer with a rebellious streak instead). It was honestly no surprise that he had been such a spoiled brat with poor social skills when he’d first come to Jujutsu Tech.

And it also shouldn’t have been so surprising to see his quarters so bare, so devoid of personality, considering the controlling nature of his family. Even his current apartment usually seemed a little too clean for someone like Gojo Satoru, so that was definitely a habit that seemed to have been forcefully developed during his childhood regardless of the rebellious nature he had grown to have since then.

...But then as her eyes stumbled upon a figure propped up between a few books, Yura had to smile. Finally, she thought. There he is. That was Digimon, wasn’t it? At last, a little splash of personality inside the otherwise nondescript room, and Yura looked fondly at the worn-out toy that suddenly reminded her of a time when Satoru would sit her down to watch this anime whether she liked it or not.

‘It’s so much better than Pokémon!’ he would insist. ‘I must bestow you with good taste.’

Yura eventually continued looking over the many shelves, her eyes roaming over the titles of all these textbooks. She was kinda impressed at all the advanced reading that pre-high school Satoru had been doing, even though she knew that Satoru was smart-smart... despite acting like an idiot most of the time. But then she stopped in her tracks again.

There was a picture frame on one of the middle shelves, the only photo frame in this whole place. Yura knew that Satoru didn’t have the habit of hanging up pictures in his place, despite them taking many photos together on their phones—so this photo frame in particular immediately piqued her curiosity. She bent down, picking it up—and it surprised her a little, even if it was exactly what she should have expected.

There were two people in the photograph, one that Yura clearly recognized as being Satoru’s father—looking much younger than now—and the other one a boy... who Yura took a couple of seconds to recognize as Satoru himself. The white hair and blue eyes should have been a dead giveaway, but it still took her a moment; maybe it was the fact that Yura had never seen any pictures of Satoru as a kid, or maybe it was the unusually serious expression on his face. And not just serious—scowling, like he didn’t want to be there... which she guessed was probably the case. Both father and son were standing next to each other, facing the camera, his father’s hand on his shoulder in what clearly looked to be an ‘official’ photograph of some kind.

Yura studied the photo closely; this was actually her first glimpse into what Satoru had looked like as a kid. He looked young—very young—but she couldn’t be sure how old he was in the picture, so she couldn’t tell if he’d always been that tall or if he ever used to be of a normal height. His hair was shorter than when she’d first met him, almost choppily messy despite the fact that he was wearing what looked like a formal kimono along with his father, and he also wasn’t wearing any sunglasses at this time. His cheeks were round with baby fat, far different from the Satoru she knew today but not that different from the fifteen-year-old Satoru she had met over a decade ago, and, well... he kinda looked adorable.

She could just squeeze his chubby, grumpy cheeks.

And speaking of which, Yura started to feel the man in question approaching long before she ever heard him open the main door.

“Yuraaa,” she heard him call, moving towards where she was standing. “Where are you snooping...”

Satoru popped up in the doorway, shooting her a grin, and Yura bit back a smile. “You done with... whatever they wanted you for?” she asked.

Satoru let out a sigh as he approached her, stopping right behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “It was dumb,” he replied, pressing his face to her hair. “Some far-removed Gojo clan member and some even more far-removed Kamo clan member were trying to arrange a marriage between themselves, and apparently they needed the clan heads’ approval for that.” He suddenly dropped his chin to her shoulder, grumbling, “Just get married, don’t drag me into it...”

Yura huffed out a laugh, leaning back against him. “Do you need to approve every marriage in the clan or something?”

He shook his head, even as he kept it pressed against her shoulder. “No, just between the three major clans,” he replied. “Something something not wanting a clan’s inherited technique to fall into another clan’s hands. Blah.”

That definitely sounded like something that would be taken seriously by the three clans, but trust Satoru to treat it with the same seriousness as stepping on gum.

“So,” Satoru started again. “Whatchu got there?”

Yura smiled. “You,” she answered, turning the photo toward him. She tapped his face on the photograph with a finger. “You look so grumpy here.”

Satoru let out a sigh. “Official photo time was always boring,” he said, and she wasn’t surprised. He buried his face in her neck again, almost whining against her skin as his glasses poked at her cheek.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a photo of you as a kid,” she told him. She grinned. “Look at your chubby cheeks.”

Satoru huffed out a laugh against her neck. “I know, I know, I was adorable.”

She half-heartedly rolled her eyes. “An adorable menace, I’m sure.”

“I mean...” Satoru heaved out another breath against her skin, shifting slightly behind her. “Are we gonna keep talking about kid me or are we gonna... get to the good stuff?”

And as if to make a point, she felt his lips press against the crook of her neck, and Yura tried biting back a grin. Of course.

---

Satoru felt a little... odd.

It wasn’t like Yura had never visited his private quarters in the Gojo Estate before, but something about having her there now was throwing him for a loop.

These days, there was a very clear distinction between what he considered to be clan life and his regular day-to-day life. It’d started many years ago when he’d left for Jujutsu Tech, finally able to break away from the suffocating grip his family had on him—and over the years, he’d been able to keep both parts of his life fairly well-separated. It wasn’t entirely intentional on his part; it had simply happened that way. His family didn’t bother him when it came to his job, and he usually only had to deal with clan-related business when he visited the Estate.

And this division extended to the people in his life as well—his family tended to stay away once he wasn’t around the Estate, and the friends he’d made after leaving for school didn’t usually get involved in clan matters nor frequent the same places his family did.

Which was probably why having Yura there, in the room he grew up in, felt so odd—like two worlds colliding entirely.The only person that had straddled the line between the clan and non-clan parts of his life had been a certain someone that would not be named—the only other person from outside that had ever visited his quarters here.

...But that couldn’t be the reason for this weird feeling in him, could it? At least not entirely. He had brought Yura here once, many years ago, and they’d had tea in his living area—and yeah, sure, it had felt a little strange back then too, but not thisstrange. This was a similar kind of feeling to what he’d felt when he took Yura with him to that clan ceremony a year and a half ago—seeing her there next to him, surrounded by his family and his clan...

It was... odd. Like he had just slotted her in an entirely new place in his life, where she fit... a little too well. Odd, but not a bad kind of odd.

So he decided to just ignore that weird feeling and busy himself by pressing his lips to her neck instead.

“Is this the only reason you brought me here?” Yura asked, amused. He vaguely noticed her placing the photo frame back on the shelf before she tilted her head to the side, giving him better access to her neck.

He’d truly made a wonderful choice picking this dress for her. With her entire neckline bared to him, he was able to trail his lips up and down an unbroken expanse of skin, going up her neck then down to her shoulder and back again. There was only the delicate chain of her necklace in the way, but he hardly minded it considering how she always wore it anyway. “Couldn’t exactly do this in front of everyone...” he replied, letting his teeth gently scrape the side of her neck, and he felt Yura shiver against him. “Even though I kind of wanted to.”

He heard Yura huff out a laugh. “Well, at least you behaved.”

He grinned against her neck—time to finally misbehave, then.

Satoru’s hands had been resting on her waist, and he let them drift further forward. His palms slid over Yura’s stomach on top of her dress, enjoying the way the softness and firmness of her body felt against his hands. As his thumb brushed over the underside of a breast, he was a little disappointed to find that she was, in fact, wearing a bra... but oh well. That would come off soon enough. So he pressed his nose to the side of her throat as he let his hands slide up to squeeze both of her soft mounds, and Yura laughed again.

“Someone’s getting handsy,” she said, letting her head fall back against him. His other hand drifted down again, splaying his fingers open over her stomach to press her body back into his... maybe only proving her point further. His lips pressed a kiss underneath her ear, feeling her sigh against him, and he kissed her there again—if he was getting handsy, then did this mean he was getting lipsy as well?

He grinned some more, but his grin ended up falling when Yura pulled away from him. He straightened himself up as he looked at her in confusion.

“Maybe we shouldn’t get handsy in your... study room,” she said, but she had a smile on her face as she stepped closer to him, her hands resting on his chest as she pressed her front to his.

His grin came back. “Why not?” he asked. His head dipped closer to her, his lips approaching hers.

But Yura pulled away before he could reach her once again, a mischievous look on her face. So she was in a teasing mood huh? Well, at least her hands took a hold of his as she stepped back, pulling him with her, and he let her lead him along.

Yura guided them back into the living area and then tugged him into the bedroom with her, and Satoru’s grin widened. Yura was still holding on to both of his hands, so once they were both sufficiently inside, she simply tugged his body to hers, pressing their fronts together again.

“This feels like a better place to start the after-party,” she said, her head tilting up towards his.

He was still grinning as he nodded. “That’s fair,” he said, and finally lowered his mouth to hers.

A sigh escaped him as they locked their lips together, his hands coming up to cup her face and bring her closer—he’d been wanting to do this all night. Maybe even in front of everyone—his family, the Kamo clan, the Zen’ins, all the elders and higher ups in attendance—he had been wanting to pull her to him and kiss her so everyone would see. He had refrained from doing that, of course, as Yura probably wouldn’t have appreciated it, so he’d had to hold himself back all night instead.

But not now. Now he could let his tongue taste her lips as he wished, enjoying the way her own tongue reached out to brush against his own. He could tilt her head slightly so he could kiss her deeper, feeling her hands tightening on his shirt against his sides as she pressed herself closer. He could just... get lost in her, just like this.

Satoru’s fingers slipped into her hair, enjoying the softness of the strands as he kept her face as close as possible. Yura herself was pressing her body tightly against his, and he could feel her pushing herself up on her toes to get even closer. See? This was why he’d gotten her those heels—Yura was pretty tall herself, but those heels would have helped them get on more even ground.

...Although, to be fair, she wasn’t likely to wear heels in the bedroom. Ah, well.

Yura’s nose bumped against his sunglasses as their mouths moved together, and it prompted her to pull away from him. She herself raised her hands to pluck the glasses off his face with a grin, but instead of tossing them somewhere else, she only folded them back up and slipped them between her breasts, leaving it hanging off the front of her dress.

His eyes, of course, followed along, and his gaze was immediately stuck to her cleavage.

Yura really needed to wear strapless tops more often...

“So,” Yura started, and Satoru had been so entranced by the way her breasts looked in that dress that he hadn’t noticed she was actually stepping away from him. “This is your childhood bedroom.”

Satoru’s eyes finally left her chest, and when they did, the sight suddenly struck him.

The four walls of this room were ones he was intimately familiar with; this was where he’d spent most of his childhood before he was able to break away from all of it and build his own life for himself. To be honest, most of his happy memories had taken place outside of here—even now, after all this time, this place still felt as stifling as it used to be when he was a kid, so he usually avoided it as much as possible.

But having Yura there with him now—why was it making him feel... something?

“What?” she asked, a confused smile on her face at his prolonged silence.

Satoru stared at her for another long moment, taking in the sight of Yura standing right there in his childhood bedroom, before he mentally shook himself out of it. “Nothing,” he replied, stepping closer to her. “Just thinking that you should really let me buy you dresses more often.”

Yura rolled her eyes even if she still had a smile on her face, and before he could get his hands on her again, she turned her back to him. “Well, now you’re gonna have to help get me out of this dress instead,” she said, handing his sunglasses back to him over her shoulder.

Satoru grinned, taking the glasses and slipping them into his pocket. “Happy to oblige.”

The first thing Satoru did was brush her long hair over her shoulder, exposing her back to him. He let his hands linger on her bare skin above the line of her dress, tracing the faint scars there; as much as the sight of her bare legs drove him crazy, he had also developed a fondness for the line of her shoulders, the contours of her collarbone, the movements of her shoulder blades...

Satoru lowered his lips to the crook of her neck again, pressing a soft kiss to her bare skin. He let his hand trace down the dip of her back until he reached the edge of her dress, fingers finding the zipper there and slowly tugging it down. His mind briefly wondered how she had put it on without any help, realizing with an amused laugh that she must have used her own technique to do so. But any other thoughts on the matter were quickly wiped away once he had fully undone the zipper, letting the dress slide down her body to pool at her feet.

Yura was wearing a similarly pale pink matching underwear set, and Satoru had to pull away slightly to admire how the strapless bra and panties hugged her curves just right. He let a hand slide down her back, briefly brushing over her ass as she turned around, facing him; she had an almost knowing smile on her face, but then she once again pulled away from him as she let her smile turn into a sly one.

“You’re overdressed, by the way,” she said as she stepped towards the bed. She sat down on it and then shuffled back towards the middle, and Satoru could only stare once more.

Yura, in her underwear, sitting on his bed at the Gojo Estate—

How many times had he laid on his back on this very same bed, staring up at the sky through the ceiling as he wondered if there was more to life than just lessons, lessons, lessons. If there was anything actually interesting out there for him, away from the Gojo Estate somewhere. Something fun and exciting, something he could look forward to—

Oh, there was definitely something alright, he thought. And it was currently sitting on top of that very same bed, looking up at him curiously.

“You’re really spaced out today,” Yura commented, and he was suddenly brought back to the present. No more getting distracted, he thought to himself.

“Well, you know,” he started, letting his eyes focus on Yura’s bare skin, the fabric of her underwear hiding the most interesting bits from him... for now. “I’ve just never had sex with anyone in here before.”

Yura looked at him with amusement in her eyes, tilting her head at him for a moment. “I mean, you’re not gonna be having any sex if you just stand there like a doofus,” she said. Satoru had to admit that she had a point. “So, strip.”

And to emphasize her point, Yura reached behind her and unclasped her bra, promptly tugging it off to throw it at him.

Ah, fucking hell... what a sight.

The garment smacked him on the face as Satoru kept staring, his eyes completely focused on her bare chest. Then he immediately startled himself into action, quickly pulling off his sweater and undershirt in one go before reaching down to undo his belt. His pants felt tight as he pushed them down his legs, tossing them off to the side as he rushed towards the bed, his eyes set on one singular goal—and he didn’t waste a second as he moved towards Yura, finally landing face-first on one of her wonderfully soft breasts.

Yura gasped as his mouth closed over one of her nipples, sucking on it and letting his tongue swirl around the hardened bud. One of her hands slipped into his hair as she leaned back but still pushed her chest forward, and Satoru hummed in approval—definitely a better angle for him to delight himself there. He could never get enough of the way she felt in his mouth, how it felt when he sucked the bud and some of the softness inside before releasing it and tasting her skin with his tongue. And he couldn’t just focus on one, that just wouldn’t be fair—so he removed his mouth from her before quickly capturing her other breast instead.

This was a much better end to a boring clan event, that’s for sure. This might just be the most fun he’d ever had in the Gojo Estate—ever.

And Satoru could have stayed there on Yura’s chest for hours—if Yura herself hadn’t gotten impatient, grabbing his head and pulling him up to hers. Their mouths met again and Satoru couldn’t complain, and as Yura’s hand found his own chest, sliding over his skin and making him shiver—he could complain even less.

Yura ran her hands over his muscles, squeezing at his skin, briefly pinching his own nipples and making his breath hitch. But Yura wasn’t satisfied with just that, no; as their tongues brushed against each other, her hand moved lower. Satoru’s mind was definitely paying close attention to her scorching touch, but still—as her hand finally squeezed him over his underwear, he almost jumped in surprise, grunting against her mouth at the feeling.

Yura pulled away from him then, and he didn’t have to open his eyes to see the cheeky grin she was sporting. But his mind was otherwise preoccupied, as her mouth had left his but not her hand—she was still massaging him over the fabric of his underwear, and if Satoru hadn’t been painfully hard before, he definitely was now.

“Satoru,” she called, and he eventually opened his eyes to meet hers. Her hand continued her ministrations down below, and his hips were almost rolling into her touch. “You said you had never had sex in here before, didn’t you?”

Satoru only vaguely hummed an agreement, letting the hand that had slipped into her hair slide down her front, absentmindedly squeezing one of her breasts.

Her grin widened. “What about a blowjob?”

Satoru suddenly froze. His eyes opened wider as he stared at her.

Yura, Yura, Yura...

Why was she always so good to him?

Yura’s cheeky grin never wavered as she pushed him back, sadly removing her hand from him, but he still throbbed nonetheless at the thought of what was to come.

What was to come—heh.

Hopefully him. And her. And her again. And them both—

Yura guided him to sit back down at the edge of the bed, rotating his body along with her as she stepped back onto the floor. She shot him a look as she stood in front of him, although Satoru got a little distracted by her bare chest right in front of his eyes. But when she bent down, tugging his underwear down his hips, Satoru eagerly assisted with its removal—almost dazedly watching as she finally knelt down between his legs, her hands on his thighs.

And when she finally grasped his member in her hand, he went a little crazy. Then she took him into her mouth and he almost went full insane.

Truly, he could never get tired of this. Actually, Yura only seemed to be getting better and better at this kind of thing every time she knelt down between his legs—she ran her tongue over him just right, she sucked him in just the right amount, her mouth and hands working in tandem to make him fully lose it.

Satoru threw his head back, one of his hands slipping into her hair but still letting her do whatever she needed to do—she sure didn’t seem to need his help. But then his eyes opened, lowering his head back down to take in the sight between his legs—and he instead ended up catching sight of everything instead, his brain once again struck by just where they were, and who he was with. He had so many memories of this place, of this room, most of them not particularly happy or fun; and now, Yura was there. In the middle of all of it. Her presence warming up this cold room... in more ways than one. (His body sure was getting very hot.)

Yura was bobbing her head up and down on him, and the feeling of him sliding in and out of her hot mouth was definitely getting him close. Too close, but also not close enough—something inside of him wanted to bury himself in her completely, so this wouldn’t do.

Yura shot him a questioning look as he pushed her back, still keeping him in her hands. But he didn’t say anything as he surged forward, wrapping an arm around her torso to tug her to him as he hitched one of her legs over his hip. Her arms came up to hold on to his shoulders as he maneuvered them both around, swiftly depositing her on the bed and positioning himself between her legs.

Satoru had to stop for a moment to admire the sight again, of Yura in this bed, his bed—in this room. It brought a weird, warm feeling to his stomach that Satoru couldn’t quite name, so he decided to push it all aside as he lowered himself on top of her to capture her lips with his own again.

It felt both strange and familiar, being with Yura like this here. Comfortingly familiar was when he let his hand slide down her body, squeezing a soft breast in the process, and found the waistband of her underwear; strange was when he pulled back briefly to tug the undergarment down her legs and caught sight of Yura sprawled out bare in the same bed he’d spent the first half of his life in.

His once home—his clan home. The place he’d thought he would only ever bring his eventual wife to, for... well, this.

Yura’s hands started groping his chest in the best way possible as he lowered himself back down to her, locking their lips together again. Their mouths were sloppy against each other, hands all over the other’s body, and Satoru couldn’t take it anymore—he wanted to be back in her, now. Not her mouth, this time; instead, his hand slid down to grab at his own member, Yura letting out a small gasp as he immediately pressed his length against her, slipping between her folds. He rubbed himself up and down there, coating himself in her wetness, letting the head of him slip down to briefly press against her entrance before sliding back up, rubbing himself against her clit before sliding down again. It was only a tease, really; even as Satoru was feeling a little impatient, his body craving more of her heat, he wanted to make sure it would be a... smooth ride inside, one might say.

But it seemed that Yura herself was also growing restless; every time that he slid down on her folds, pressing against her entrance, her hips would roll up against him as she almost urged him in. And who was he to continue denying her?

So the next time he slid down and found her entrance, he finally notched himself inside and pushed into her.

His forehead dropped to the bed next to her head, the feeling of being continuously squeezed by her walls incomparable to anything else. She felt so hot and so tight as he slowly sheathed himself inside, feeling her fingers pressing down on his back and urging him in further. Which was what he did—he kept pressing in, feeling her walls stretching open to accommodate him. His free hand eventually slid down to grasp at her hip and angle it up, allowing him to finally slot himself all the way inside; and as his hips met hers, feeling himself fully encased in her, he let out a shuddering breath against her ear.

There truly was no other feeling like this in the world. It was like sliding home; not just the way her tight heat wrapped around his member, but the way she was wrapped all over him—her legs bracketing his hips, her chest brushing against his with every breath she took, her hand digging into his back as her other hand slid down to grasp at his buttocks—it was almost like all of her was trying to urge him in even deeper.

So he obliged. He shifted his hips even closer, feeling himself push in just a tad bit deeper.

He really could stay here like this forever, couldn’t he?

Satoru breathed in and out against the side of her head, just basking in the feeling.

...Okay, so he could stay here forever, but maybe not stay still—his body started craving more, so he eventually started to move his hips slowly. He pulled himself out, then slid back all the way in, his nose pressed against the side of her head, nuzzling in as he breathed in her scent. Satoru was enjoying himself a little too much feeling the ridges of her walls drag over his length almost painfully slowly, but somehow just right.

He wasn’t going to continue with this pace all night, of course. There was more fun to be had.

His hips started moving faster, thrusting down into her. Her touch began drifting all over his body as he moved himself in and out of her with increasing speed, and her hands managed to leave both shivers and a scorching trail in their wake. It only drove him further, his hips thrusting into her faster, the continued squeeze and release of her walls around him making his muscles tense as he craved more. More heat, more speed, more space to move—the hand that had been grasping her hip moved up to her leg instead, urging her thighs to spread wider for him, and she wordlessly obliged. Something in his stomach coiled in pleasure as she gave him full unrestricted access to her heat, and he took full advantage of that to thrust into her unimpeded.

Satoru’s mind had long disconnected from the situation, letting his body’s natural impulses drive him along. As his hips kept moving, his nose and lips continued trying to press themselves closer to her, nuzzling the side of her head, his lips finding a combination of skin and hair and more skin as his face brushed against her. As Yura’s thighs fell open completely and he no longer had the need to hold them that way, he was able to free up his hand to happily start exploring her body with his touch... immediately finding her breast again and squeezing her softness in his hand once more.

There was nothing else at that moment but him and her, together. And Satoru would have liked it to stay that way—so when he sensed a familiar energy approaching, his Six Eyes glancing through the walls to the outside on instinct alone, he suddenly snapped his hips into her with an annoyed grunt and stayed there.

Yura, in turn, let out a gasp at the sudden roughness, her walls squeezing him briefly and making him realize just what he’d done. Oops would have been his thought if it hadn’t actually felt good.

“What?” Yura breathed out, half confused and half dazed at the feeling. “What... is it?”

Satoru’s eyes briefly glanced at the figure of his father standing outside of his quarters before sliding his gaze away (this was not what he wanted to be looking at in the middle of sex). But when he raised himself up slightly on his elbow to meet Yura’s eyes—the sight of her flushed face as he stayed buried inside of her had him pause for a moment.

“Just...” he eventually said. “An annoying visitor. He’ll go away soon enough.” Satoru had long made sure that his family were not to go inside his quarters without permission, so his father would eventually just leave once he got no answer.

Yura glanced up in the direction of the bedroom door before looking up at him. “...You don’t think they can hear us, can they?”

“Probably not,” Satoru answered, and immediately snapped his hips into hers again, making her bite back a gasp. He grinned.

Yura shot him a mock-annoyed look, but when he thrust into her again, she definitely looked like she was enjoying it.

He wasn’t worried about anyone overhearing them—his quarters were at the far end of this building, and there was still the whole living area between the bedroom and the outside... even if the walls weren’t really all that thick.

“Besides,” Satoru said, his voice coming out a little breathless as his hips continued the harsher thrusting into her. “I told you... my family would probably throw a party... if they knew what we’ve been doing.”

Yura’s face was scrunching up in pleasure as she tried keeping her eyes open to look up at him. “I don’t think... I don’t think it’s the sex part... they’re interested in.”

“No...” Satoru agreed. His mouth was slightly parted as he stared down at her flushed face, and he was pretty sure his was the same way. “They just want the resulting bit.” And he thrust himself into her again.

Yura’s eyes met his, a strange look passing between the two of them. “...That does have to come... from somewhere,” she said, her voice amused.

And when he thought of where that somewhere might be, it made his hips immediately snap into her without his permission, his head suddenly spinning.

Following this new pace, Satoru’s hips continued moving in rough, deep thrusts, while he still kept himself raised slightly above her in one arm. This meant that his eyes never left hers, despite their occasional fluttering, that same strange look still lingering in the air.

“So...” Yura let out, her eyes fluttering more and more as he increased his pace. “Is that what they would think... that we’re doing?”

“Yep,” he replied, his eyes never wavering from her face as his mouth worked on its own, seemingly disconnected from his brain... “That this is me putting a baby in you.”

When the words finally registered in his own ears, his hips suddenly snapped into her harder. Well, shit.

And it took him a second to register the fact that Yura’s own hand had drifted down her body, reaching the nub there and rubbing. Her eyes had fluttered closed, but she managed to force them open as she stared up at him. “...Well, you can try,” she breathed out, her voice a mix of amusement, defiance, and a simple statement of a fact.

It drove Satoru insane, and his hips only matched the state of his brain.

Yeah, he could try.

Satoru’s gaze locked on the golden flecks of her eyes as he pushed himself into her, the only thing going through his head was her name on repeat like a mantra going Yura, Yura, Yura—

He only vaguely noticed her hand increasing speed between her legs, as her face started to shift and scrunch up more often. He matched her pace with his hips, driving himself into her again and again and again—

Until when Yura suddenly cried out, throwing her head back and arching into him. The sight, the sound, the feeling—it was all too much, immediately pushing him over the edge, and he drove himself in as far as he could go with a cry of his own. His hips were pressed flush against hers as his climax hit him, and he finally released himself fully inside of her.

As waves of pleasure crashed over him, Satoru buried his head against the side of her neck again as he curled himself into her. He could feel himself spilling deep inside of her, her walls spasming around him and milking him for all that he’s worth. The head of his length was definitely pressed against something inside as he tried to push himself in even further, and if he knew enough biology, considering what they had just been saying—

Well, the thought of his release slipping into her womb was already getting him ready for round two.

(...If it weren’t for birth control, his family would have definitely already gotten that heir they want so much.)

But for the moment, Satoru allowed his muscles to relax.

The way their chests moved against one another as they both caught their breaths was almost hypnotic as he came down from his high. His senses were overwhelmed with Yura—all Yura.

...He wasn’t complaining. He only pressed a kiss against her jawline when he had finally recovered enough.

“That’s... one hell of an after-party,” she eventually breathed out, and Satoru had to huff out a laugh as he raised himself on one arm again.

“Much better than the party itself,” he added, peering down at her. Her cheeks were still flushed, her hair wild around her head, and he raised his free hand to brush some stray strands away from her face.

“I mean...” Yura looked up at him, her lips tugging up into a cheeky grin. “That’s not saying much...”

Satoru’s mouth widened into a grin of his own. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure the after-party lasts as long as the actual party did,” he said, and to punctuate his words, he rolled his hips against hers, feeling him move inside of her still.

Yura huffed, amused. “Of course,” she said. Her legs came up to wrap themselves around his waist, locking him in.

This was, one hundred percent, the most fun he’d ever had inside his family home.

End notes: So, what we've gathered from this oneshot and the previous one (Movie Night) is that yes, both Satoru and Yura have developed breeding kinks. Yes, that is his family's fault for bringing up heirs so much. No, they're still in denial over their own feelings even though it was staring at them right in the face.

Anyway, I really like exploring Satoru's character, and I really like writing smut lmao. Best of both worlds! Throw in a lot of Satoru completely glossing over his own feelings and we've got a wining combo here!

I did have to rush to get this out before I could post the next chapter of the main fic, because the vibes...... might shift a bit in the near future in the main story. So the main fic will still take me a little more time, but have this as a treat until then! 

[materassassino]

Patrimony

From the DinLuke Server prompt of the same word.

Luke reaches the end of his tether, and Ahsoka gets yelled at, as she deserves.

------

Luke feels out of his depth.

Everyone seems to know more than him.

“We didn’t used to do it like that,” Cal says, frowning.

“Oh, Kanan told me it was done this way,” Ezra says, flippant.

“That’s not how the Jedi teach,” Ahsoka says, disapproving.

“I don’t remember anything about that,” Reva says, dismissive.

“I DON’T THINK THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN APPROVED OF,” Gungi says, uncertain.

“Are you sure you want to do it that way?” Ezra asks, wincing, and Luke has had it.

He likes to think he’s left his rashness behind. He’s matured, he’s fully mastered his emotions. But even his patience can’t last forever.

He whips around to Ezra, shoulders set, face a mask of fury.

“You run this karking Order then!” he snarls. “If you’re all so much wiser than I am! Run it yourselves!”

And he storms off, blood hammering in his ears. He’s surprised he only said that, and not something so much worse, which was exactly what he wanted to. He stomps away from the little compound they’ve made, their temporary temple, and out into the streets of Sundari.

His boots pound the pavement as he tries to get as far away as possible, and Mandalorians quickly get out of his way, staring at him as he passes. He doesn’t care. All he can hear in his head is reproach, remonstration, criticism, dismissal. What do you even think you’re doing? the voices in his head demand, jeering at him. You don’t know anything!

Of course he doesn’t know anything, he thinks bitterly. He’s found himself in one of the little parks, a residential area, and he throws himself beneath a tree that still needs time to grow. No one told him anything. His masters were forging a weapon, not a Jedi. He didn’t even know what a Jedi was until he was nineteen! And they had the gall to call him the last, as if there weren’t people out there, people the same as him, who could have guided him from the start. They didn’t even attempt to remake the Order, and now they come here, judging every wrong step he takes without offering to teach him the dance in the first place.

He refuses to meditate, even though that would be the correct, Jedi thing to do. But he doesn’t want to be a Jedi just then. He doesn’t. He wants to drop everything and just run to the farthest corner of the galaxy where no one has even heard of the Force. Sithspit, even Tatooine would be better than this, right now.

What is he even trying to do, anyway? Maybe the Order would be better off dead and buried. What would the galaxy even gain, if he succeeded?

“May I sit?”

Luke hears the silver bells in the Force, their resonant chimes, and he scowls.

“What do you want?” he demands, not even looking up.

Ahsoka, wisely, chooses not to sit, because Luke would simply stand and then march off again.

“To discuss, perhaps,” she says, mild and supercilious and it grates on Luke’s nerves like metal scraping against metal, the hulls of two ships colliding. He surges to his feet, and her height doesn’t intimidate him – frankly, he’s faced taller, and meaner, and uglier.

“What’s to discuss? How I’m destroying everything? Ruining the legacy of the Jedi?!”

“Rage doesn’t—”

“Shut up, Ahsoka!” he snaps, and she does, her mouth clamping shut like he’s cast a spell on her. “You’re the worst of them all! Always needling, always criticising! You waltz in here whenever you want, proclaiming you’re not even a Jedi, and then proceed to tear everything apart because it’s not to your exacting, aloof standards!”

Luke breathes deeply through his nose, and instantly regrets everything he’s said. He pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I’m tired,” he says, fighting to keep his voice steady, “of everything I do being worthless.”

Ahsoka is quiet. “Luke,” she says, and finally there’s some emotion in her voice after it’s been so distant all the time, “it’s not. You’re… you’re trying to do everything on your own. You’re exhausted, you’re barely at home.”

She reaches out, cautious, like he’s a cornered, wounded animal that might bite, and gently her hand settles on his shoulder. Viciously he contemplates shrugging her off, but that just feels petty. He simply glances at her hand, and then at her.

“We know how much this means to you,” she says. “How much is at stake. You’ve done so much and you’ve done it by yourself.”

He scoffs at her.

She frowns. “It’s not just your legacy, Luke. You can’t carry it alone.”

“I’m not trying to!” he says through gritted teeth. “I was never trying to! I need help, not constant belittlement!”

Ahsoka sighs. “I… I think some of us are afraid,” she says. “We’re afraid it might be too distant from what we knew, even if we barely knew anything in the first place.” She removes her hand and sits, cross-legged, rubbing her arms. She looks much younger than she is, in that moment. “The world we knew is gone, and it’s been gone so long, that to see something being born out of its ashes means… letting go of it.” She looks up, tears in the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry, Luke.”

He takes a deep breath, and for a long moment he stares at the ground beside her, before making a choice. He sits as well.

“It can’t go back to how it was,” Luke says. “I’m trying. I know it’s not the same, but it can’t be the same. Am I qualified? No. But are any of us? You all left me alone to do this by myself, no help, no guidance, no knowledge. I’ve been working off puzzle pieces that don’t even fit together. You say you want to help now, but it doesn’t feel like help. It just feels like resentment.”

Ahsoka’s breath hitches and she shuts her eyes, a look of pain on her face. “I know. The thing is, you’re doing so well. You’ve given us a place to call home again, you’re finding our history, you’re finding us the future as well…” She rubs at her eyes. “We had nothing for decades. We ran and we hid and we died, and then you came along and...” She gestures at everything around them, the rebuilt dome and the cleared streets and the rebuilt houses. “You even made allies out of old enemies. You’ve done so much.”

She looks at him then, biting her lip. “Is… is this because of Anakin?”

Luke scowls at her. “Not everything is to do with Anakin kriffing Skywalker,” he says waspishly.

“No, I meant… do you feel guilt for what he did?” she asks. “Do you feel bound to it because of him? Because of his actions?”

“I…” Luke swallows, and searches inside himself. I am a Jedi, like my father before me. “No,” he admits. “It’s not guilt. It’s not repentance, because I didn’t do it. It’s more… the right thing to do. It’s because the galaxy will be better for it.” He laughs bitterly. “Not that it feels like it.”

“How so?”

“Sometimes I wonder what the point of it is,” he says gloomily, tugging at the grass beneath his fingers. “Maybe the Order should have stayed dead.”

“Have you ever… thought of leaving?” Ahsoka asks, her voice gentle.

Luke blinks.

“You could, you know,” Ahsoka continues. “You have a husband, a son. Grogu doesn’t need to be a Jedi. You could simply be Luke.”

He’d thought about it, on lonely sleepless nights, curled up in bed on Yavin 4, all alone, where the future seemed impenetrable and murky and ultimately futile. But he hadn’t. He gotten up the next day and continued, one foot in front of the other. Although… well, if Grogu hadn’t have come along, perhaps he would have. Loneliness was becoming too familiar a state of being.

Luke shakes his head. “I am a Jedi. That’s what I am. I couldn’t… I couldn’t see the suffering in the galaxy and turn a blind eye to it, just walk away from it all. Not when I can do so much more.”

Ahsoka smiles then, her eyes creasing. “There’s your answer. That’s the point.” She sighs again. “I think we’ve been neglecting that, but we’ve also been neglecting each other. We’ve all been so isolated, it hasn’t done us good.”

“Jedi are pack animals?” Luke suggests, teasing, and Ahsoka chuckles.

It’s quiet, broken by the sound of children playing a street away and the recycled breeze in the leaves above them.

“You’re a good grandmaster, Luke,” Ahsoka says. “Don’t let us tell you otherwise.”

Luke stiffens, head snapping round to stare at her. “What?”

“A good grandmaster,” she repeats.

He shakes his head. “No. No, I’m no grandmaster, I’m far too young for that…”

“Who else is there?” Ahsoka asks. “Me, the coward running away from her own truth? Cal, who ran away from everything else? Reva, who was an Inquisitor?” She sets her hand on his shoulder again, more confidently this time, and Luke welcomes its weight. “You’ve done more than we ever could. You’re the only one it could be.” She makes a face. “And perhaps being old isn’t always the best choice.”

“I’ll take that,” he says, shrugging. “I’m not calling myself that, though. Not yet, anyway.”

Ahsoka nods with a chuckle.

Together they head back to the compound, and all eyes are on them as they walk through the gate. Grogu sprints across the yard and launches himself into Luke’s arms, babbling wildly and accusatorially.

“Well, they didn’t kill each other,” Reva says.

“Are you ok?” Ezra asks, nervous.

Luke sighs. “Yes. But… It’s been feeling like you’re all against me, like you hate everything I do, and that’s been… demoralising.”

“Talking out your feelings like normal people?” Merrin heckles from her seat beneath the porch – she tends to watch, distant and slightly mocking of it all, but fundamentally supportive. “Not very Jedi.”

Cal rolls his eyes as Reva huffs darkly.

“WE DIDN’T MEAN THAT, LUKE,” Gungi says. “IF YOU HADN’T HAVE FOUND US, WE WOULDN’T EVEN BE HERE, TOGETHER AGAIN.”

“We owe you a lot,” Cal admits, folding his arms. “What you’ve done so far, it’s incredible.”

“And we didn’t get this far by doing it by the book,” Ezra says. “We had to adapt to survive.”

Luke rocks Grogu gently, looking down at him pensively. Grogu looks up, curious, and touches his little claws to Luke’s hand.

It’s for him, isn’t it? Everything that he does, ultimately, is for Grogu, and those that will come after him. The legacy isn’t something they’ve been handed from the past, it’s a debt owed to the future. And there is no future without change.

“The past can prepare us,” Luke says, tickling Grogu behind the ear, just to hear him giggle, “but we can’t chart a course back to it. And I can’t do it alone, I need all of you with me.”

“Spoken like a true grandmaster,” Ahsoka murmurs, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder.

The word doesn’t fit right now, but perhaps it will, in the future.

[aoife-asturmaux]

a few years ago in shadowbringers i set out to visit every bar/tavern in the game and make a list of them. i've been keeping the list updated ever since, and this week i went through and added the dawntrail ones! there were a ton. Endwalker only added like 4 tops, but the Dawntrail additions doubled the size of the list........

i will post the list separately another time (it's in a google sheet on an account tied to my legal name), but for now I wanna share the pics i took during aoife's epic bar crawl 2 electric boogaloo. (contains dawntrail spoilers!)

After jotting down the spots in Tuliyollal, my next stop was Urqopacha. There are a couple of named establishments in the Pelupelu half of the map, and one unnamed distillery.

I then spent a long time in Worlar's Echo trying to figure out if the Yok Huy have bars. The seating areas and flagons suggest they do, but I couldn't figure out who was selling the drinks....

After trying & failing to identify any eateries in the Hanuhanu village, my next stop was Many Fires, which serves as a rest stop for travelers and naturally sells food and drinks.

I couldn't find any restaurants or bars in Iq Br'aax - I found a couple cookstoves, but they didn't seem to belong to a specific place. There were also no restaurants in Mamook, which I guess makes sense considering all they eat is najool.

Next my journey took me to Shaaloani. While I had expected to find an even distribution of saloons and the like, I found that the restaurant scene was mostly concentrated in Hhusatahwi. Every other building there shows signs of being a dining establishment. Meanwhile, Sheshenewezi Springs is much more residential, and none of the buildings there looked like they served food or drink.

Speaking as an American from "the west", the big saloon in Hhusatahwi is probably my favorite bar in Dawntrail....

I briefly scanned Heritage Found to see if there were any bars to speak of, but aside from one random dining area in the Outskirts it wasn't immediately clear if there were any.

I concluded my tour in Solution Nine, which has probably the highest number of bars per capita of any settlement in the game. It would be a herculean task to document each and every one of them, especially since none of them have names, so I just made a note of their volume on my list. The cafe Mosaic was also a welcome change of pace as one of the few ingame eateries not focused on alcohol.

I did also boot up NG+ so I could document the eateries in Living Memory, but I didn't end up taking any pictures there. something about that place wigs me out haha... and since the eateries weren't named or permanent (or even technically real) I wonder if I should include them in the list or not....

Anyway, eventually i'll get that list up somewhere public lmao