#and it is a good message. you're all of your feelings and it's important to acknowledge and accept that
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frogeyedape · 4 hours ago
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Steam message from the developers who voluntarily withdrew the game from the platform: Important News about No Mercy
Dear World,
Recently, there has been a lot of noise about the game "No Mercy."
We want to address a few issues.
False information about the content in the game was very often repeated. People created videos and spoke with great conviction about things that weren't in it, which showed that they hadn't even launched the game. Some did such extensive "research" that they presented graphics from a completely different game—I hope that game survived this ordeal. If this is what your attempts to act in good faith look like, we deeply believe that no one will ever suffer from being wrongfully accused by you. However, think twice about whether it's worth repeating everything you've heard from someone and whether the information you're passing on is actually true. Better yet, do some work yourself instead of blindly chasing views.
Secondly, many people unfortunately confuse fiction with reality, attributing fabricated stories where people who play "No Mercy" then go out on the street and commit vile acts. In general, all those who played it are mentally ill and hate their mothers and women in general. That's how it's generally presented, and we completely disagree with this. During development, we conducted hundreds, if not thousands, of conversations with people who tested the game, and everyone perfectly understood what the game was about and that it was a game. They were normal people. The same applies to the partners of all those who participated in the project. I guarantee that during production, no one was harmed, and we all consider ourselves completely normal and healthy individuals. However, we are concerned about the mental health of people who sent us emails. Some descriptions of what you would do to us were really sick compared to what could be found in "No Mercy."
About the famous kinks in the game...
Let's start with what shocked public opinion—incest. Real incest is something disgusting, and we fully agree with that. However, incest is also one of the most popular kinks worldwide when it comes to pornography, mainly because it typically portrays third parties, strangers, in no way related to the person watching it. Stepmom, stepson, stepdaughter are among the most frequently searched terms in pornography, which, for emotionally stable people, is just roleplay. I guarantee that no person who enjoys such a fetish feels sexual attraction toward their relatives. If we want to criticize someone for enjoying watching such portrayals, I believe we're intruding too deeply into their sexual sphere. Some people like feet, some like costumes, and some like this type of roleplay.
Rape. Here also, no one wants anyone to get hurt. However, it's strongly connected with blackmail and male domination, which is also a fetish. If someone plays with their partner at home pretending to be a student and teacher who demands sexual acts in exchange for a grade, should we label them as sick and call them rapists, check their computer, and lock them in prison? I fully understand that for many people such things may be disgusting, but during sex, people should really do what they want, as long as they don't harm anyone.
Can a game harm someone? According to many studies, with the emergence of the internet and pornography in the 90s, sexual crimes decreased by half. If someone is sick, dangerous, and might actually harm someone, would playing a game or watching pornography increase their desire to do so? We sincerely doubt it; rather, they'll satisfy this need at home and perhaps save someone from harm. It's somewhat similar to shootings and playing games—it has been proven many times that games reduced the amount of violence in people rather than increasing it.
It was also very inappropriate to report that the game was available to 12-year-olds. The game still required creating an account, selecting the appropriate option, connecting a credit card, and paying for it. Since so many people showed graphics from a different game, it might mean that it wasn't so easily accessible after all. In an era where such content is available online by typing one of the most popular pornography sites, we sincerely doubt that any minor would perform such actions. Nonetheless, it’s their parents' responsibility to supervise the type of content they access.
However, here we come to the last point, which is the role of media and various organizations, as well as internet content creators.
Please consider—would anyone who wasn't looking for such content hear about this game if it weren't for hundreds of articles, petitions, and statements from content creators? After all, if someone believed that this game shouldn't be available in their country, they could have handled it quietly; they could have reported the matter to the authorities. Meanwhile, websites used the trending topic for clicks, organizations placed links to fundraisers under petitions, and content creators made videos that garnered more views. The result of all this was that the game suddenly went from around 1,000 visits to 100 times more in those days. There are certainly events that need to be publicized quickly, when someone is actually being harmed and we can save someone. Was it really necessary in this case, for those few views and extra money for fundraisers?
At this point, the game has been blocked in 3 countries—Australia, Canada, and the UK. We don't intend to fight the whole world, and specifically, we don't want to cause any problems for Steam and Valve. They do a great job and are incredibly helpful.
If after reading the above, you still believe that such a game should not have been created, then we sincerely apologize to you. At the same time, we would like you to be a bit more open to human fetishes that don't harm anyone, even though they may seem disgusting to you. This is still just a game, and although many people are trying to make it into something more, it remains and will continue to be a game.
We've made the decision to withdraw "No Mercy" from Steam.
Zerat Games
PS. If you have purchased the game, you will not lose access to it.
just so we're clear in light of the itch.io adult content ban (with no warning. btw) banning sexual expression in any way shape or form is already fascist and being like "they're going to do queer games next!!!!!!" just makes you look stupid. the fascism is already here dipshit open your eyes
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bluemoondust · 1 day ago
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tumblr literally froze on me as soon as i hit 'send'... forgive me if you got this twice, just feel free to delete this message! anyway, this is prev anon with some thoughtsss i'll split them up by ask and maybe won't send them all at once, lol.
i think volt has such great yandere potential because he's (presumably?) pretty new to the whole Existing things and things might be overwhelming... moreso, he was made with a very clear purpose in mind: to protect eddie. and, perhaps, now that you've grown close with both of them, your wellbeing also features prominently in his mind. for volt, it's not something he simply cares about a lot, it's a need.
meanwhile, you're pushing yourself too hard. trying to form bonds with everyone in your house (even the ones that you don't like, or the ones that exhaust you). you're fixing everything, adhering to everyone's schedule, playing (couple's therapist), shouldering everyone's problems except your own... volt and eddie hardly even see you at the breaker box anymore! it'd be a lot for anyone, but especially for you, a years-long shut-in with heaps of unprocessed trauma on your own. you're not taking it well. you're on the path of burning yourself out...
and no one can see this more clearly than volt. he can see right through any airs you might try to put on. i think volt should just <3 sweep you off and keep you somewhere small and quiet and safe. where no one else can bother you. maybe it's meant to be a temporary thing, at first. just to get you to reload... but there's no stressors when it's just the three of you, nothing for you to worry about. shouldn't you just stay here?
volt knows what happened the last time he wasn't deliberate enough. eddie had just kept pushing himself, nearly collapsed in on himself. he won't let the same happen to you.
thank you for reading LOL i'm not sure how eddie would feel about of all of this... if you have any ideas on that id love to hear lol
All a-okay, anon!
Love this! Volt would absolutely be able to see the telltale signs of someone who is experiencing burnout and like hell he will let this keep going on.
As for Eddie's reaction to this,,, I'm pretty sure he would notice, but he doesn't act like it (due to not being too open with his feelings). He's very subtle about his concerns, trying to make sure you're doing alright. I feel like he will notice Volt's intentions immediately, and it makes him take pause for a moment. He knows why Volt is doing this and...he can't help but feel slightly solemn remembering his own experiences with burnout. So this is what it feels like...
He clenches his hands and really takes you in. Eddie would definitely feel that he has to do something after contemplating for a while. He just can't let you crumble and fall while dealing with it all alone. You aren't alone at all...and he will make sure that's the case.
Of course the two would work together! Eddie is not too good with words, but Volt helps in that regard. It's a lot to take in, with what they're doing, so you'll need it. You really need to understand why and how important it is. This is necessary.
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ofironandivory · 2 days ago
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Imagine your F/O hanging out around you while you work or focus on your hobbies
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💜 If you're trying to pay attention to something important they'll do their best to not get in the way, just enjoying your company as you share your space. Maybe they'll put on some relaxing music or white noise to help you stay concentrated!
📺 Need anything looked up or clarified? They're on it! Maybe some ways to reword your work? They'll do their best! They're happy to be a helping hand, however they can
💜 If you're just killing time or enjoying yourself, they'll help you relax or give you things to talk about! Watching the way your eyes light up while you're feeling relaxed makes them feel at home, full of love that radiates straight from you
📺 They'll lean over your shoulder from time to time, trying to get a sneak peek at your work! They'll quit it if you tell them to, but if you decide to show it to them they'll be showering you in compliments until you can't take it anymore
💜 When you decide to take a break, they'll offer you all the cuddles and kisses you could imagine, as well as some water and maybe a snack! They make sure to tell you how proud of you they are, and to remind you that you are doing an amazing job
📺 If you've been at it for a while, they'll help you get up and stretch. If you let them, they're also happy to give you an extra snuggly hug with a side of backrubs, and if anything aches they're happy to offer you some pain relievers
💜 Maybe they try to playfully distract you every so often! They'll come up behind you, cover your eyes and have you guess who it is, maybe poke one of your sides and quickly switch to the other side so you won't catch them right away! All in good fun to try and put a smile on your face
📺 If you let them, they'll sit by your side and place stickers on your non dominant arm, maybe add some doodles around it, as well as little messages of encouragement! They want to make sure you won't get yourself overwhelmed or burnt out, however possible
💜 They'll check in on you and make sure you're staying hydrated and properly fed. They understand not wanting to shake off your focus, but it's important to look after yourself too! Whenever they head to the kitchen they'll ask if you'd like anything and remind you to keep an eye on your posture
📺 Your F/O is proud of you for everything you're able to accomplish, including taking care of yourself! Nothing will be more important than your health and well-being, so they'll make sure to look after you, when you're too caught up on other things to do so yourself!
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mindfulmindthief · 2 hours ago
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It's just a DM. It's not a big deal.
It's just a DM. All you're doing is flirting with that hypnotist whose post you liked. Saying "Hi, your posts made me drip" and wanting to chat with a fellow kinkster. Add a few emojis, maybe, to make sure they know you're really excited already. It's not a big deal.
It's just a DM, a quick reply from them. Friendly, direct. Sure, you're eager to respond, but that makes sense. After all, you're a good little hypnotic toy, and they're the source of the pleasure you love to break you. But it's a normal message, it's not a big deal.
It's just a DM, answering that oddly personal question. Why does it matter if they know what got you into hypnosis anyways? If they learn a bit about your hypnotic past? Why wouldn't you tell them, you're here to chat about kink anyways? Besides, thinking about them reading it is kind of hot, seeing your history exposed and open, spread for examination. You'd probably have told them anyways, it's not a big deal.
It's just a DM, asking for your consent to use a bit of hypnotic language. Asking if you're willing to drop, if things work out that way. Asking to open your mind, and give access to everything. Asking to open your thoughts, your dreams, your body, and the things that make you squirm. Like, sure, that's a lot, and you don't usually share all of it so quickly, but it sounds pretty hot, and nothing's gonna happen anyways, you're distracted, thinking about lots of things, it's not a big deal.
It's just a DM. "Yes". Three little letters. That's maybe not long enough. "Yes please". No, too eager. "Yes Sir". Wait, no, that's moving too fast. "God yes". No, that comes across as overeager, don't want to seem desperate. "That'd be ok if you want". No, more enthusiastic. "Please". Perfect. Short, enthusiastic, to the point, and shows just how much you want it. But maybe you're overthinking, it's not a big deal.
It's just a DM, so why is it so complicated? You've read that message like 10 times, and each time it feels like it's a bit more complicated. All the words make sense, but when you put them together, it's just hard to wrap your brain around. Maybe it was a typo, a couple of words incorrect? Or maybe he just got distracted, and made a mistake. I can just piece it together from the next few messages, it's not a big deal.
It's just a DM, so why is it taking so long to write? It's like thumbs just don't want to find the letters, like each word is floating up through a pool of sweet, heavy syrup. This can't be this hard, he asked a simple question and it deserves a simple answer. Typoes everywhere, but he'll understand, it's not a big deal.
It's just a DM. Why are you so excited? Why did that little buzz in your hand while taking those pictures drive you so wild? Like your whole body was vibrating with interest the moment you saw new words. Ready to open, to read, and to see what amazing new things he has to say. Sure, you'll want to make sure they sent OK before you really get to dig deep into the message, but you've got nothing else more important happening, so if they take a few moments to send, it's not a big deal.
It's just a DM. Why is it so hard to think of something to say? You had so many ideas, so many desires, so many things to say and ask, but none of them are coming to your mind right now. It's hard to focus on anything but what you're feeling, on that throbbing, dripping, overwhelming need. There's only one word that's coming into your mind when you start to write. "yes". Oh, that feels like the correct word. "yes". You can just keep using it. "yes". Over and over. "yes". He doesn't seem to mind if I only use one word, it's not a big deal. ... It's just a DM. Where did the afternoon go? Why are you so relaxed? When did you put in headphones? Why are your clothes on weird? And why are you sitting in a puddle? God, why are you still throbbing like that? You'll have to ask. Yeah, messaging again sounds perfect. Yeah, that's right, he said he didn't mind questions, or followups, and doesn't mind helping. Yeah, messaging again tomorrow is perfect. It's not a big deal. After all, it's just a DM.
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hope-for-the-planet · 2 days ago
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Welcome to Hope for the Planet!
Other places you can follow Hope for the Planet: •Bluesky ([email protected]) •Substack (in progress)
Ask Information, FAQs, and Resources Below the Cut!
A Couple Notes About Asks…
•I get A Lot of asks—in order to not burn out on this blog, I have to accept that I can’t answer all of them or always answer in a timely manner
•If you send me a kind message or a thank you, please know that I deeply treasure each and every one of these messages, even if I don’t post it <3
•Submissions of good environmental news are always welcome!
I Will Not Answer or Post the Following Asks...
•Anything with an explicit, specific call to action (ex. a link asking to donate, sign a petition, support something specific, etc.)—that is outside the scope of this blog and I don’t have the bandwidth to vet these kind of requests or evaluate which ones are most important to post
•Usually asks that are not about environmental-related issues (I very occasionally make exceptions). There are limits to what I can speak knowledgeably about and I feel I can make a bigger difference by focusing on issues related to my field and knowledge-base.
•Doomerism asks or asks that seem to want me to argue against their claims that everything is actually hopeless and we are all doomed. This whole blog is my evidence against that. (This does not apply to folks asking for hopeful news about a specific issue or expressing fears! But if you come here demanding me to refute your argument or a list of negative claims I am not here for that!)
FAQs
Do you think saying optimistic things about climate change will make people less likely to take action?
No, I think hope usually makes people more likely to take action. People have a limit on how much mental distress they can tolerate before they start to tune something out through denial or distraction or just shutting down. If you believe the odds are hopeless and no one else cares, why would you believe you have the agency to take action or make a difference?
I get lots of asks from people telling me that reading this blog motivated them to actually get involved with an environmental cause or in some cases even pivot their future career goals. Or that this blog was the tether that helped them pull out of a mental health spiral. Dr. Hannah Ritchie of Our World in Data has said that doomerism almost drove her to leave the climate change field when she was first starting her career, which would have removed all her massive contributions.
Hope is not the same as blind optimism. Pessimism says nothing we do will make anything better, optimism says things will get better no matter what we do. Hope says that there is a path to making things better if we choose to walk it--hope demands action. It is also a much more accurate way to view the world.
Do you truly believe that there is hope?
Yes, I really really do. I don't post these things because I want to make people feel better. I post them to counteract the negativity bias both in the news and in human nature. If you only hear about or focus on the bad things, you are not getting the full accurate picture of the world you're living in or what we are up against.
Is someone paying you to say these things?
Ha! No. I get this one very occasionally and it's always both funny and sad that someone thinks I must have an ulterior motive for sharing news that accurately reflects the state of the world as flawed but not hopeless.
On the one hand I find it mildly hilarious that people think my little tumblr blog is somehow in the pocket of Big Hope, on the other hand it makes me sad that it seems we have become so suspicious of hope. That if you're not always talking about how unjust and horrible things are all the time you are somehow complicit or letting people off the hook.
You can't hate or torment yourself into becoming a better person, and you can't hate and misery the world into becoming better either.
Resources and more FAQs Coming Soon!
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tristanzaire · 3 days ago
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In that moment, Tristan knows his place is to stay silent. To allow Selim to be frustrated, to talk through his feelings —and yes, the words hurt— because he has to.
The leader in him feels offended, almost annoyed — the FBI is rotten, and The Brotherhood, the country's only solution. How can't he see that? Meanwhile, the boy feels a little embarrassed to have asked the question. It's a twisted version of the same feeling he'd prepared himself for, back in September. The anticipation of rejection, then and now. Why would a man like him walk into the sunset with someone like you?
He's reactionless, focusing too much on his breathing and watching Selim's tears fall that he doesn't realize his own. "It's not about..." He starts, but finds that he can't speak. "I don't think you're the enemy. You're just my boyfriend, that's all you are to me." Beat. "But it's just... other people, if they know, they'd have a hard time trusting you." Even is Selim doesn't care to be trusted, Tristan does. "I just know what we're like."
There's a case to be made that Tristan forgets his talents — that if anyone could sell the idea of the noble spy who risks his safety everyday for the greater good, it would be him. With his words, and his passion, his boastful confidence typical of a leader of a movement like this.
"I don't want that, either. I want you to choose this because you believe in what we do, not just because of me. It's why tonight was... was so important for me."
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"They employ you, but they don't care about you," he says, tone soft. "When you did your 'job' and you made the hardest decision of your life —which you still suffer from, I see it the way you walk in your own home— they demoted you. You did everything for them, and they punished you for it. And that's only based on what you told me; I'm sure there's more you can't even talk about."
Real concern coats his features, though Tristan shakes his head, as if making an agreement with himself not to push the subject now. And as Selim presses his forehead to his own, Tristan understands that the agreement is mutual. They're both tired; they both want the same thing.
"Okay," he nods, not missing a beat. "Okay, I can do that. Okay." Tristan takes his face then, meeting his eye with the same kindness as before. "And... you'll give it a real shot? In being a part of the family? ...You can see what it's like, what you can do, how we can help." And that we wouldn't treat you the way they do. "And then... you can see how you feel, too. If you still think you need it."
September. He knows why Selim picked it, and that makes him smile. With both palms, Tristan rubs his own face dry, taking a finite breath as though to signal he's done with misery for the night. "We should decide what we're gonna do for our anniversary." His smile grows at the idea. "I don't remember the exact day, but it's probably on my phone." hey, it's tristan, his first text messaged had said. from the coffee joint lol. can i see you this weekend? Then, comes a kiss, slow and gentle. It carries many words, many worlds within it. Promises, too. "Don't worry, baby. We'll be okay."
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Just when Selim had thought that they'd worked it out, an ultimatum in the cadence of his favourite voice echoes in the air. Suddenly, all of the light that their faux-resolution brought to his eyes, drains from them. Breathing becomes difficult, his stomach churns with anxious nausea, and the same tremble that laughter had stilled, returns to his fingers. Like the flicker of a projector on the screen of his mind, it starts with Mehmet's cruel words and changes to his late night shifts at the dinner, studying for the SATs between taking orders and cleaning tabletops, Adam, the cook at the time, quizzing him on science as he whisked into and out of the kitchen carrying trays. Grad caps in a flurry in the air; The anticipation of acceptance letters; His first apartment in Chicago; Police training; Bachelors; Helplessness as a cop in the city; Masters; Marriage; Recruitment; Quantico; Fatih's Conviction; Demotion; Tristan. 'You can't be with them, if you're with me' — said up close, with their eyes locked together and their souls bared, his acceptance of everything that Tristan was already spoken to, the agent can't hide the emotions that contort on his face; confusion, pain, grief, anger, betrayal; but none of them as are strong as the sadness. Had this moment occurred years ago, at a time when his mind was cracked and his heart was locked away, he might've shoved him off, turned on him, said things that he would regret at a later time but it wasn't. This wasn't Fatih and he was no longer emotionally dysregulated. This was Tristan and he couldn't for the life of him, stand the idea of being the cause of his pain. Why had everything always this difficult for him? Why was it that when he could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, did it collapse down around him again? Was he that unlovable? Was his soul that unworthy of ease? Had he been the bad guy this entire time? Surely good people didn't find themselves in these situations all the time, right? The realization that he'd have to choose makes him shifty, emotional, and he decides in the moment to take a breath, to wipe his own tears this time, and to focus on getting his words straight; He didn't want to lose him or his passion.
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"You can't ask that of me," Selim breathes, his voice the epitome of exhausted frustration. "— just like I can't ask you to step down as leader. You wouldn't pick me, I know you wouldn't, I wouldn't want you too. And if you did, we'd fall into a toxic cycle of ending up here, time and time again until you got tired of me and I got tired of you" He smoothes a thumb of the perch of his lover's cheekbone, tracing the bridge of his nose before allowing his hand to fall away again. "I want to build a life with you, not around you — I want nothing more than to help you bring your vision to life, to change the world alongside you but we have to find a better solution, one that benefits both of us, otherwise...sooner or later, maybe when we've been together for so long that I know you by your footsteps and you know how disarm my anxiety without speaking, you'll have to break your promise not to abandon me and forever will become another word in both of our vocabularies." "I don't want that to happen. I want you, I want us, I want the last month to be how it is most of the time and I never want there to be any maliciousness between us. Not the type that we're in for if either of us sacrifice our passions for one another." Something filters into his mind then, of the year that he was on leave, of how many times that he'd written, deleted, and re-wrote his resignation; of how nearly all of his trauma was at the hands of the FBI. Every nightmare that wasn't the rare one where his husband became his end, was about a case he'd worked on, about the kidnapping that only happened due to his superiors lack of judgement; anxiety stemming from the lack of help he'd received afterward after KILLING a man in self-defence. It was all at their mercy — then perhaps, the badge was the problem. The agent presses his forehead back to Tristan's. "But I'll make you a deal — for the next couple of months, we'll try to make my badge and your leadership work together and if by the end of September, you don't see the value it can add to your organization, I'll walk away, no questions, no fighting it. I'll put in my notice and the badge is gone." He bites his lip then. "I know it's scary, Tris, I know that it feels like the...enemy is infiltrating your safe space but I...I've worked so hard to get where I am and I don't want to have to choose between it or you, not without at least trying to make it all work first." "Please..." He nearly pleads.
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technicalknockout · 3 months ago
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Do you care her 💔
im going to be completely honest,, i am so torn on what to make of mko
#excuse the 9000 pages long essay in the tags i have Thoughts#this is so random but SINCE WE'RE ON THE TOPIC OF MKO#on one hand. mko is very representative of the tko character assasination in lftte to me#tko's arc revolves around him wanting to be accepted as an individual and seen for who he is#as someone who related to that story a lot. it was kind of disappointing to see all that being thrown away#on the OTHER hand#it's a fitting end to ko's arc#ko has been denying the fact that tko does reflect parts of himself#and it is a good message. you're all of your feelings and it's important to acknowledge and accept that#but like. it completely goes against the need for individualization that tko has insisted on throughout the show#when i was first watching lftte I literally had to pause the vid and think for a minute because i DID NOT know what to make of that.#tbh i just dont think of it as much these days because it stresses me out an unreasonable amount ?#it probably couldve been better but. theres so many things to worry about irl and i dont think it's worth stressing over#I realized ive just been talking about mko as a concept and not the actual character uhhh.#mko is kinda just ko to me. when i see mko my brain registers the image as 'oh it's kaio kincaid from ok ko!'#partly because we didn't actually see that much of mko in the show#ALSO. i cannot lie. i like her design#the toned down colors suit her so well. and i love that they gave her spikier hair like in pko#oh my god that is a Wall of Text#tldr. mko you confuse me but i dont. Hate you#incoherent ramblings
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tw1stedthicket · 2 months ago
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Re: harry potter shit ,,, I understand growing up with it, really loving it, resonating with it a lot at one point... to the point that it legitimately could've been a means through which you discovered friends, met people from all over, had tons of fun to escape a bad environment, discovered more about yourself, inspired your own path in life.... it can be meaningful i acknowledge but like. Can we at least acknowledge at that point you've integrated it into your personality. And at that point though, you still have an obligation to excise out of you that which ended up being shitty. I sympathize with the idea of having profoundly genuine love there but guys. We're not *that age* anymore, the age you were when you found it. Life has gotten infinitely more complicated and nuanced and sometimes even ppl who are capable of great creativity, imagination, world-building, and fantasy can simultaneously have views as an adult about the people around them they live in this world with that are incredibly bigoted. I get that we associate levels of depravity on jkr's level with some kind of creative bankrupcy toward an artistic imagination of that which we also associate with deep friendship, love, or connection but like... Hence one facet of the insidiousness of bigotry.
The lesson to take from this is the adult moral responsibility we have and if you have to re-frame that as taking what you truly believed to your core as harry potter's message of unconditional love and friendship over fear, then follow that to its natural conclusion with your re-frame that allows you to say, "yeah no, i really wholeheartedly loved indulging in what i viewed as something that brought so many people together in our respective cozy houses, and silly games, and abiding love for all who enjoyed such a fun, comforting story - but jkr's behavior as a human being completely contradicts the message she tried to sell. I can't stand by the product of something made by somebody who clearly didn't see in it what i did, which was an imperative to fight beside the people you call friends, and trans people are unequivocally my friend." Bro the magic of the stories was always in YOU, my homie.
If you made something part of your personality, ofc calls to excise that would feel painful. No one said you can't ever grieve something like that, its potential ties to someone who used to be in your life, or the way life looked back then experiencing it, unforgettable memories, etc. Fandom is a really cool community.
But understand that the well has been poisoned NOT because of the supposed contradictory -multifaceted- nuance of how jkr is simultaneously the author of an incredibly successful, hard-hitting, and beloved series that many, many of us grew up with and yet she also has hosted and fed directly-hp-condemning tribalistic, purist, exclusionary, reactionary transphobia deliberately chosen over a period of years with resistance from others to legitimatize away any goodwill toward trans ppl and in fact actually is emboldened to humiliate them and use her money proudly and vocally to support whatever will make their lives harder and outright deny and erase their existence.... Understand that the well is poisoned because of how deep the cognitive dissonance is for *you*. Because of how interwoven with your past, present, and at one time a future you believed in it is. Because of how conflicted you feel ethically just knowing trans ppl in your life and in her country who will be affected so unfairly, unnecessarily, and painfully by her desires.
A desire to continue latching onto what hp meant to you, fueling the desire for hp, indulging in it, etc is directly supporting her efforts in a way that is different than any dead artist you could say you love the art of but hate their politics. She has deliberately made it clear that attention, time, money, proceeds, downloads, clicks, views, merchandise, and the way it has gone down in history as such an untouchable piece of fiction are supporting what she genuinely feels is her mission. Supported at the same time by her belief that she is under a "witch-hunt"... meanwhile actual trans people are getting singled out for this and will suffer insane consequences in their material day-to-day life. Figure out what you need to and find a different way to be a different person who embodies what you used to like about it.
There are other fandoms, other books. You want classically beloved children's books from the early 2000's? There are lists everywhere and lots of hidden gems. It doesn't have to be a part of your life forever where you put your head between your knees to distract from the fact that ofc you don't support anti-transness.... you just support this thing made by somebody who made it very clear that devotion to harry potter is devotion to her and her causes. You can say all you want that it means what you want, that still loving harry potter and maybe being vocally against her and being pro-trans causes is helping, but you don't get her little women's center plans smashed if you keep giving it attention.
It's fine to still have love in your heart for it..and that it can be legitimately grief to consider abandoning it and moving onward with your life. It's possible to acknowledge the ppl involved who clearly had good intentions in the piece of children's media they were contributing to. And the many, many lives touched by it. But when you keep it sacred to you, you're keeping her sacred too.
You're keeping her on a pedestal of untouchability bc of her great work as she continues to make it clear that she has obviously moved on from whatever pro-acceptance views were part of it, and intends to use generations of loyalty to harry potter to further her vision of the future. Not your vision of the future? Cool. Consider that maybe with jkr you don't have that home for yourself to be the most loving version of you that those first dives into fantasy initially taught you existed in you and were important.
There are so many other things you can resonate with, I implore you not to let your pedestal of significance be mistaken as an altar for continued devotion or loyalty lest you betray it. She betrayed you, not the other way around. Be angry about it, man. Put the magical fantasy aside for a second just to be angry that there is a part of you that never thought a creator who felt as magical and wise as the characters in her books that guided you growing up could harbor such vitriol for a part of the living, breathing world and people who want happy lives as themselves, comfortably reading their own beloved books in a life that feels safe, affirmative, and protected.
The books made you feel that, no? Turn around and give the same support to trans people, pick up some of the other awesome reads out there, mourn your little mourn for your inner child, and teach that inner child how to be an adult who knows in reality, the way jkr clearly fucking refuses, that nobody deserves to be the target of such profound hate - especially from someone so concentradidly, willing-to-sacrifice-others, powerful on the basis of who they are. That was kinda the lesson from hp, right? That's what we call in deconstruction circles "graduating". You took it to heart.
Now lay it to rest. And move forward - with the fullest "fuck jkr and fuck hp" you can - to let her hbo shit die, and her next cash grab, and the next one after that.
#abby op ed#fuck jkr#fuck harry potter#hope this helps somebody make that switch and be at peace with it#with time and stuff one can grow to comprehend the messaging even within hp that has issues#but for so many it's lowkey ingrained in them as a person so i feel like key to helping that is helping them understand at this point#that you it can still hold a place of importance for you for what it used to be to you#the point is to grow up and begin to scrutinize your sense of cognitive dissonance as originating from a place wherein you clearly#perceive value but not from jkr herself yet the two are inseparable and divorcing from what hp was to you to embrace your values now#is critical to ensuring that you have integrity behind what you say when you say you dont stand behind jkr#i tried to be good faith here but the sad reality is that at this point ppl prolly dont care much if theyve seen all jkr's shit and still#choose sentimentality and nostalgia#but i cant help but feel like ppls reluctance is due to lowkey enmeshment of it w their personality#how many of them say “we grew up w the books so it's part of us”? lowkey formative influence. & now they prioritize comfort i suppose#seen ppl argue they dont spend money on it either tho but the point is the devotion and loyalty#ppl spend time arguing in circles abt how they way they engage with hp isnt promoting harm as if they#aren't literally carrying water for her & emboldening other ppl's excuses for as to why it might be ok for THEM to still indulge it#the time spent justifying continued interaction w hp reads as supportive no matter how many times you say “but f jkr tho”#bc in her literal fucking words that's the shit she sees as intrinsic loyalty & that image is what's being capitalized on.#cool you didnt buy the books great. you're still supporting the flame of loyalty burning on that she uses to burn down trans ppl
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wutheringmights · 2 years ago
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what is wars diagnosed with. I know he has them I just don't know which ones.
I would prefer if we didn't pathologize Warriors
#I neither have the knowledge to diagnose him nor care to do so#on one hand i think people that try to diagnose characters are often applying harmful stereotypes to people with real disorders#on the other i think trying to diagnose Warriors is missing the point of his character entirely#I don't want anyone deciding that he's like this because he has X because then it's too easy to decide that you're nothing like him because#you too don't have X. like that's missing the whole point of feeling sympathy or anger towards a bastard of a character#and like listen anon. you didn't ask for this lecture (one I should definitely be putting in the actual message and not leave in the tags)#and in theory anon you can do what you want and i can't stop you. death of the author and all that#but while i'm here I'll also say this: none of you better be out here diagnosing wars with low empathy because I write him like he#is empathetic. if i was writing a character with low to no empathy you will know. why? because your author (me) has low empathy#I'll spare you my rant about that but i keep putting off a character moment where i was going to establish that a character we know is a#good person discusses how they have low empathy because it's really important to me that people understand that your ability to be#empathetic doesn't make you a good or bad person. you just have trouble identifying when you need to show sympathy. that's it.#anyway sorry to make an example of you anon. i'm sure you were trying to make a joke but you accidentally hit a button that reminded me of#my real sensitive button gosh#me rambling#lu ctb#ask#anonymous#anyway add 'Frankie has low empathy' to your trivia about me
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cherie-doll · 2 months ago
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LADS: When You Don't Give Them A Kiss
༻ Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb ༺
₊˚✧ Xavier loves his goodnight kisses. Won't be able to sleep right if you don't give them to him. Which is why he immediately frowned the moment you turned away from him after only saying good night. He had already leaned in closer for you to kiss him when you had cut him off. He's frozen in place, surprised at seeing you laying your head on your pillow without a care in the world; ready to drift off to sleep. But how can you do that to him? Surely you aren't forgetting something? I mean, it's custom by now, you do it every night. It's embedded in his brain to do this, so why are you suddenly being so forgetful. He hesitates but eventually moves in closer, nuzzling into your neck as his arms come around your waist. You complain that it's too hot for him to be doing this, but his response is something along the lines of "too bad". You forgot something important to him so now deal with the consequences; he'll be all up on you throughout the entire night.
₊ ೀ Zayne has a strict routine as a doctor. He wakes up early despite having prepared everything the night before, and as organized as he is, he cannot leave without first feeling your lips on his. It's literally his number one priority every morning before he leaves. He can go the day with forgetting his lunch, or even combing his hair properly, but can no longer wait until he gets to you later that night. Sometimes you'll sleep in and not wake up to give him a kiss and he'll try hanging back hoping you awaken before he has to walk out the door. He's sat at the edge of the bed, his work clothes on and everything ready but just clinging to the hope you remember. And no he won't wake you up, he isn't careless and he'll feel bad if he does. As a hunter, you need that rest and he prioritizes that before his selfish desires.
༄༢ུ࿓ Rafayel will actually do his job for once and go to an art exhibition that Thomas has arranged for him if you give him a kiss. Sort of like a good luck type of thing that makes him feel like things will be tolerable if he remembers the warmth of your lips on his. But this time he's stuck waiting by the front door, tapping his foot against the floor as he impatiently waits for you to return. He brings out his phone to reread the message you had sent, you had gone out and were expected to come back in time to accompany him to art exhibition. But it seems you're running late and Rafayel isn't in the mood to meet up with you there. You call him and are immediately greeted by his attitude. You can hear the slight whine in his voice when he asks why you're not there yet. Truthfully, you feel a little bad to hear him be so distressed. Perhaps you'll make it up to him later.
ᨳ᭬ Sylus isn't letting you off the hook so easily. You came up to him while he was relaxed to tell him you would be going out. As usual, you come up to his spot on the couch and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You tell him you'll be back later and he hums, acknowledging what you've said. But he furrows his brows, his smile disappearing when you just leave to grab your bag. He looks up from his phone to see you ready to take off when you catch his gaze. Oh, if he were more gullible he'd believe that "what's wrong?" face of yours. But he knows you better than that. You can sense the amusement in his voice when he asks "Aren't you forgetting something?". You cock your head trying to keep up the act a little longer before you give in. He had a smug look on his face, knew you wouldn't actually dare to leave his place before properly saying goodbye to him. Plus you would never hear the end of it if Luke and Kieran found out.
❦ Caleb would probably believe your act for a minute max before realizing you're teasing him. After not seeing each other for a couple of days due to your busy schedules, surely a hug isn't all he's getting... right? Your bright smile won't distract him from what he's really after. You feign confusion when you realize his grip on you isn't loosening as you try to pull away from his embrace. You call out his name, annoyed as you make more of an effort to push him away. You're secretly fighting a smile from forming when he only pulls you closer. You huff, telling him to stop teasing you, but he swears it's you who's doing the teasing. He sways side to side with you in his arms, you think about how ridiculous you must look and catch some people staring and hear them exclaim about what a cute couple you two are. Finally, when you no longer want to deprive him you stand as straight as you can to reach his face and give him a kiss. He lets you go after and looks at you, "was that really so hard to do?"
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cheapshrimpysheep · 5 months ago
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True Feelings Chocolate - OB Students
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SUMMARY: It is normal on Valentine's Day for friends or schoolmates to exchange chocolates with each other. However, the quality of the chocolate reveals how the person really sees you. And homemade chocolate is the greatest message of love that someone can receive on this day.
CHARACTERS: Overblot Students (Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia) x Yuu (Reader)
TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Kiss
WORD COUNT: An average of 1.280 words per character.
COMMENTS: The number of words varies depending on how much the character is the type to hide his true feelings.
I also would like to be able to write more eloquent lines for characters like Malleus, but as English is not my first language this becomes a bit difficult sometimes.
I hope you enjoy and Happy Valentine's Day 💝
True Feelings Chocolate - Freshmen (Ace Trappola / Deuce Spade / Jack Howl / Epel Felmier / Sebek Zigvolt) x Yuu (Reader)
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REAL WORLD CONTEXT: You may already know this, but Valentine's Day in Japan is different than in Western countries. In Japan (from what I know and have researched) this day is not exclusively related to romantic love but also to friendship or simple connections between schoolmates or work colleagues.
Just like in the West, it is marked by the gifting of chocolate, but the quality of the chocolate differs: If it's a boss or colleague you're not friends with, they're usually cheaper, more common chocolates. The quality and even price of the chocolate increases according to the relationship with the person to whom it is offered. And a chocolate made by the person themselves is the most valuable of all and is usually, from what I understand, almost like a confession of love.
On Valentine's Day, it is women who offer chocolates to men, but in this case I just kept the logic of chocolates and excluded the gender thing.
Another thing is that since it is normal to give chocolates to friends as well, it becomes more discreet to give more special chocolates to a certain person and it doesn't draw attention to simply give chocolate to someone.
NOTE: Thaumarks would be the equivalent of US dollars.
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The rules are clear: the quality of the chocolate represents the quality and importance of the relationship between the giver and the person to whom it is given. And a chocolate made by the giver is the most valuable of all. Which meant he could buy chocolates for his schoolmates, but not for you!
According to the rules and analyzing what he felt for you, your chocolate MUST be made by him and it had to be perfect! Or as close to perfection as he could get.
He has no shame, nor does he think twice before asking Trey for help. He had that smile of someone who wants to mess with him a little the entire time, but knows that wouldn't be a good idea... Okay, maybe just a little comment to see how he would react.
“So... homemade chocolate for (Y/N).” He said as they waited for the chocolate to melt and Riddle prepared the molds.
Riddle continued with what he was doing, but he had blushed a little.
“Those are the rules.” he replies. "The quality of the chocolate should represent how the giver sees the person to whom it is given.”
“I know. I just never thought I'd see you making this kind of chocolate so soon.”
Riddle did not respond, probably because he thought the same thing.
What Riddle didn't know, because it was supposed to be a surprise too, was that you were also making chocolates for him. You made chocolate dipped strawberries. Knowing that Strawberry Tarts are his favorite food, this seemed like the best choice for Valentine's Day chocolates. Once they were ready, you placed them in a red box that you had bought at Sam's Mystery Shop and finished by tying the box with a bow.
The next day, Valentine's Day, you are preparing the boxes of chocolates to give to the Heartslabyul boys when there is a knock on your door. You open it and find Riddle with his hands behind his back.
“Good morning, (Y/N). I believe you know what day it is today.”
You confirm and say that you were just preparing the chocolates to take to his dorm.
“Oh, that's a coincidence. Because I came here to offer you mine too.” He takes his hand from behind his back revealing a beautiful heart-shaped box with golden designs. “And...” in the other, a small bouquet of roses. He's blushing just a little bit
You take the box and the bouquet, and Riddle smiles when he sees your reaction. But before you open it, you remember and go to the bag where your chocolates were and take out his box and offer it to him. He wasn't surprised that you gave him chocolates, but he was a little when he saw that the box wasn't from any brand. You also take the opportunity to place the roses on the entrance table so you can open the box.
When you take the lid off you see several heart shaped chocolates with your favorite toppings, however, some of the hearts were a little bit crooked and some of the designs on the hearts seemed to have gone slightly wrong. You ask if he made them, unable to contain a small chuckle.
“Y-yes.” he sulks a little seeing you laugh. “I picked the ones that looked best... the first ones burned.”
You taste one of them and feel your favorite filling on your tongue. You say it's very good and Riddle can't contain that sweet smile of his.
“Truly? I... I am so glad!”
And then he remembers the box you gave him. He opens it and sees the chocolate covered strawberries. You say that since he liked strawberry tart so much you thought he would like them. He looks at the strawberries with a sparkle in his eyes, picks one up and tastes it before giving you a cute smile again.
“It's incredible how something so simple can taste so good.” he tells you “So... were they made by you too?” You confirm, but then he asks: “You... did you also make chocolates for the others?” he seemed ashamed to ask that.
You say no, that those were the only ones you made, all the others were bought.
“Really?!” he says smiling, but then immediately clears his throat to assume his usual posture again.
However, he realized what it means, that you felt the same way about him as he felt about you, and it made him chuckle. He holds your free hand, while the other still holds the box of chocolates, gets closer to you and kisses your cheek gently.
“You said you were preparing to go to Heartslabyul.” He tells you with a tender look, as if he can finally look at you the way he wants and you deserve. “Allow me to escort you there then. And I insist on helping you carry the boxes.”
He will take you to Heartslabyul with your arm intertwined with his like a gentleman, while his other arm carries the bag with the chocolates that you will offer to your friends.
Ace and Deuce will argue and compete because they both bought you the exact same box of chocolates that were your favorite. Cater bought you the cutest chocolates he could find and wanted to take a picture of the two boxes together, the one you gave him and the one he gave you. Trey says he wished he had made the chocolates himself but, you know, rules and possible misunderstandings to be avoided, so he ended up buying some chocolates that he also liked as a sort of sharing of favorites.
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Regardless of whether you would get chocolates back or not, you bought chocolates for Jack and Ruggie, and you wanted to follow the "rules" and make the chocolates for Leona yourself. But what chocolate would he like? He loves meat, but this doesn't help much. Or maybe it does... you search on the internet for chocolates for meat lovers and see what you can find.
But you didn't find anything, or at least nothing that didn't also involve wine. However, you noticed that dark chocolate was the most used, if not the only one, so you decided to use it and make the famous, perhaps even cliché, heart-shaped chocolates. Once they're done, you put them in the yellow box you bought at the Mystery Shop.
On Valentine's Day, you prepare everything to go deliver the chocolates to Savanaclaw.
Of course Jack also bought you chocolates, your favorite ones by the way. He struggled to keep his tail still when he saw how happy you were and the chocolates you gave him.
Ruggie seemed... struggling to give you the chocolates he had bought for you. He would have liked to have bought the cheaper chocolate, but he didn't want to give you a chocolate that meant you were nothing to him. So he had to spend a little more money and that was what was hurting him. However, his pain was eased by your chocolates.
Leona wasn't with them, so he could only be in his room. You go there and knock on the door.
“What?” You hear Leona's voice on the other side.
You open the door and enter his room. It's no surprise to see him lying in bed as if he had just woken up from a nap. He looks at you with his hands behind his head and smirks.
“Oh, yeah, did you come here to deliver your friendship sweets?” he says mockingly.
“Actually, yes.” you answer, walk towards him and stretch out your arm, handing him the yellow box. “This one is for you.”
He glances sideways at the box for a second, but then lifts his torso and sits up on the bed. He picks up the box and opens it to find dark chocolate hearts. You tell him that you tried to find some kind of recipe with meat but didn't find much. However it seemed like dark chocolate was the best one to pair with meat so that's why you chose it.
“So, you're saying that you did these little things?” Leona picks up one of the chocolates with a smug grin on his face. “Let's see how you did then. I must remind you that my palate is quite delicate.” He takes a bite and seems to enjoy the chocolate, but doesn't say anything.
Instead, he puts the box on the bed, gets up and seems to walk away from you. But then you notice that he's walking over to a chair in the corner of the room covered in clothes. He lazily removes one of the pieces of clothing from the seat and reaches for the white box that was hidden underneath. He comes back and hands you the box.
“Good enough. Here's your prize.”
You take the box and look at it. It’s white with gold details, texture and embossing. It's also relatively heavy for a box of chocolate, and thick. You don't even recognize that brand. Leona laugh at your reaction.
“You've definitely never seen one of these.”
You can't open the box with only one hand, you had to put it on Leona's bed to be able to open it with both hands. He complained like you expected him to, but then he just sat there watching you open the box and see what was inside, while eating more of your chocolates like they were snacks.
You open it, and inside the white box there is a wooden box. You remove the wooden box and see another wooden thing, like a square plate, with a kind of small wooden tongs. Leona is amused by your reaction. You took this out of the white box too, underneath is a booklet, and underneath that, there's a brochure. And after that there finally seems to be nothing left to take out.
“If you're wondering which one is the chocolate, it's the wooden box.” He points to the first thing you took out of the box and take another chocolate of yours to eat.
You pick up the wooden box with a little golden square on the lid and opens it. You pick up a large square wrapped in gold paper. At the bottom of the box, in a smaller diamond-shaped hole with a single cocoa bean.
“That is chocolate.” Leona casually pointed to the large square wrapped in gold paper.
You decide to see what that wooden thing with the tongs was before that. You pick it up, take the tongs off the top and remove the paper it was holding, revealing a gold square with engravings and what looks like a wooden frame around it. You read the title on the sheet of paper: “Testing utensil and plate.” And realizes that these are basically instructions on how to taste the chocolate using tongs and putting it on the golden plate.
You finally decide to search for those chocolates on the internet and you only had to type the name of the brand to see that the first result was: ‘The most expensive chocolate in Twisted Wonderland’. You found that same box and discovered that it cost almost 500 thaumarks. Leona just laughs at your shocked face.
Before you could say anything, maybe even say that you couldn't accept a chocolate like that, Leona takes the golden square and unwraps it, revealing the chocolate, which by the color seems to be your favorite. He breaks one of the triangles that formed the square and places it in front of your lips.
“Go on.” He smirks. “Open your mouth and say what you wanted to say.”
You open your mouth, but instead of talking you take a bite of the chocolate, as he wanted you to do. And it's incredible! He puts the rest of that piece of chocolate on top of the golden plate.
Knowing that the handmade chocolates were an “I love you” message, Leona felt completely confident in doing what he did next. As you were standing, he also stood up, put one of his hands on your waist and pulled you against him to kiss you.
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You already kind of knew that it was possible to receive some kind of chocolate from Azul. This tradition can also be seen as a way of strengthening ties or showing respect for colleagues. He would not miss the opportunity to be “generous” to certain people whom he may or may not have selected as people of interest.
But no matter what kind of chocolate he would give you, you wanted to follow the rules and make yourself his chocolate.
You weren't sure which type of chocolate he would like best, so you decided to make a few of each, some dark chocolate, some milk chocolate, and some white chocolate. ‘By chance’, Sam had some molds for sale that you could use to make chocolates in sea-themed shapes like shells, seahorses, starfish, crabs, etc. One of the molds was even of a cute little octopus. You also bought a beautiful lavender box to put the chocolates in.
The next day, Valentine's Day, you were preparing the chocolates to give to the Octavinelle boys when someone knocked on your door.
“Good morning, (Y/N).” Azul greets you with his charming smile and his hands behind his back. “Were you getting ready to go out? I hope I'm not taking up too much of your time. I'm sure you have a lot of chocolates to deliver today, knowing how many acquaintances you've made at this school. But let me be the first to present you.” He takes his hands from behind his back revealing a beautiful lavender box with the Mostro Lounge logo in silver.
He must have prepared several boxes of that for his... acquaintances (clients) as well. But you accept the box anyway and take the opportunity to give him yours. Azul doesn't seem too surprised that you give him chocolates too, but he is when he sees that there is no brand on the box. You open your boxes at the same time to see... the same chocolates, the exact same shapes.
“Have you also-” You two start saying at the same time and then stop when you realize you're talking over each other.
“The molds in Sam's mystery shop.” Azul continued with a sweet tone. “You bought them too. So... that means...”
“These chocolates.” You say. “Were they made by you?”
“Yes, they were!” He smiles proudly. “Please, go ahead to taste them. Tell me what you think.”
You can see he used your favorite type of chocolate. You pick up one of the chocolates, take a bite and discover that it has your favorite filling. He can see that you loved it by your face, but he wants to hear your words and you only increase his pride with them.
You then ask him to try your chocolates. You confess that you didn't really know which one would be his favorite so you made some of each type. This makes him chuckle.
“Don't worry, they all look delicious. Let's see if the same applies to the taste, shall we?” He smirks before taking one of the chocolates to his mouth and biting into it.
He looked surprisingly intrigued and you didn't know what that meant. So you ask him if there's something wrong with the chocolates.
“No, that's not it. Your chocolates are very simple, without any special filling or anything that improves the original flavor of the ready-made chocolate. So why...? Why does it taste so good if it's nothing special? Did you use something that my taste buds aren't detecting?”
It was wierd, Azul almost seemed insulted, like you were tricking him somehow. Or like he wanted to figure out the logical explanation for that flavor. You say you only followed a recipe and seeing that he seemed dissatisfied with this explanation you say that people say that something made with love tastes better.
“Don't be ridiculous." He says despite starting to blush a little. “Feelings do not change a well-made recipe or a cook's skills. It might make them lazier and less willing to do things properly." he says, clearly thinking of a certain someone. "But it doesn't suddenly make someone an extraordinary cook. That's not how it works. It doesn't make sense."
And then his subtle indignation gives way to a quite seductive smile.
“Maybe I should see how you do them to find out your secret. And in return, I can teach you how to make the fillings and stuff them. What do you think? Cooking together and teaching each other.” He gets closer to you and tilts your head with a gentle finger on your chin. “Doesn't that sound like a good deal, my dear?”
After this you tell him that you were preparing to go to Octavinelle to offer him, Jade and Floyd the chocolates. There was still the boxes to be delivered to the twins.
“Oh, I wonder what you got for them.”
You say that for Jade you found some mushroom-shaped chocolates and for Floyd you bought some that said they all had different flavors but didn't say which ones, you realized that it was one of those sweets that you only find out if you were lucky or not with the flavor after tasting it.
Azul's mood seemed to improve when you said you had bought the chocolates and not made them. He also highlighted your excellent ability to choose gifts and added that you could be an excellent... business colleague. He liked the idea of a special personal assistant. He will accompany you to Octavinelle and insist on carrying him your gifts.
Jade loved the chocolates you chose for him, although it's hard to be sure even with all those smooth talking praises. For you, he asked his parents to send him some special Coral Sea chocolates. Azul asks you to examine that box and doesn't even hide his distrust towards Jade, who appears theatrically sad. He recognizes those chocolates with the box still sealed and knows that there is nothing wrong with those, so he returns them to you with more peace of mind.
Floyd was a little put off at first because the chocolates looked boring, but he soon became interested when you told him about the surprise flavors. He tried one that he said tasted like octopus and started laughing with great amusement. For you he bought shrimp-shaped chocolates and commented something about finding it funny to see it as a kind of cannibalism.
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Kalim would definitely give you chocolates, but you had no way of knowing if Jamil would do the same. You already know how reluctant he is to call someone a friend, let alone give someone chocolates, that is not out of pure politeness, on a day like Valentine's. But either way you wanted to follow the rules and offer him chocolates made by you.
You weren't sure which type of chocolate he would like best, so you decided to make a few of each, some dark chocolate, some milk chocolate, and some white chocolate. But you didn't want to make just boring chocolate hearts. However, you didn't know if there was any filling he liked with the chocolates, so at Sam's Mystery Shop you try to find at least pretty molds. And you found heart molds with beautiful line art. That, and a pretty dark red box with a golden bow.
The next day, Valentine's Day, you were preparing the boxes of chocolates to take to the Scarabia boys, but they were faster than you.
“GOOD MORNING (Y/N)!” Kalim greets you enthusiastically when you open the door after hearing the knock on it. “Happy Valentine's Day!” He stretches out his arms with a huge smile and a huge basket of chocolates. It even had a heart-shaped balloon tied to it.
You need both hands to pick up the basket. You try to tell him that he didn't need to offer you so much, in fact he didn't need to offer you anything, but all that...
“Don't worry. I love giving gifts to my friends! And it's okay if you can't eat them all before the expiration date, I'm sure Grim can help you with that. There's enough for both of you in there. Hahaha.”
“Or at least we hope it's enough for both of you.” Jamil comments behind him. “Be careful Grim doesn't steal them all from you. And I'm sure Kalim would love to spend a little more time with you, but he has to go deliver the rest chocolates.” He frowns wearily and helplessly.
You can only imagine how many chocolates someone who treats practically everyone as a friend has to give away. But you ask them to wait just one more minute. You put the basket on the table in the hallway, take the one of the chocolate boxes you were preparing to take with you and hand it to Kalim.
Just like the chocolates he gave you, yours were also bought, except the brand you bought was much cheaper. But none of that mattered to Kalim, he was thrilled just because you gave him chocolate at all. But then he remembers and looks back at Jamil.
“We’ll open them in the dorm.” Jamil says. “I'll just try one and you can eat the rest. I know (Y/N) is trustworthy.”
Kalim celebrates and thanks him for allowing him to eat the chocolates. You wait for them to turn their backs to call Jamil in a whisper that you knew he would hear and Kalim wouldn't. He turns as Kalim walks to the gate and you hand him the dark red box with the golden bow. He looks at the box in surprise, glances at Kalim and thought quickly. He takes the box and says: “I'll text you.” before he turns and walks towards Kalim with your box in his hands.
If you had given him that box while Kalim was looking, he would have been super curious and happy for Jamil, maybe even started saying that he should offer you a box too and ask about it. And you knew how much Jamil liked to be discreet and not draw Kalim's attention to his affairs.
You had time to go to all the other dorms and deliver your friendship chocolates before he sent you the messages:
“I'm sorry I didn't thank you for the chocolates when you gave them to me. We only just finished delivering Kalim's chocolates, and he went to the Pop Music Club. I wanted to ask you if there would be a possibility of you passing through Scarabia today? I would like to thank you properly.”
You say you can and he asks if it can be in an hour. You don't ask him why, even though you're asking that to yourself, but you say yes and the meeting is set.
At the agreed time you go to Scarabia and you don't even need to tell Jamil that you have arrived, he is already at the doors of the main building waiting for you. And as if that wasn't enough of a surprise, when you approach him he holds out his hand for you to place yours on top and he kisses the back of your hand. He has a charmingly confident smile on his face. He leads you like a gentleman through the dorm hallways.
“I apologize again for being so curt with you when you gave me the box.” He says as you walk with one of your arms intertwined with his. “You truly caught me off guard. I wanted to thank you at that moment, but I was so much more focused on being quick so that Kalim wouldn't... you know... intrude.” That was the least rude way of saying what he really wanted to say.
You ask him what happened after you gave him the chocolates. The box wasn't small, he wouldn't have been able to hide it from Kalim.
“What I expected.” he sighed. “Kalim started making questions right away. But don't worry, you made the right decision by handing me the box when he wasn't looking. I hope he didn't bother you about it though.”
No, Kalim didn't text or call you after that. Jamil discreetly whispered a "excellent" with a somewhat sinister smile. You ask him if he liked the chocolates and tell him that, since you didn't know which was his favorite chocolate, you decided to use them all. He gives you a slight smile.
“I can appreciate them all. When they're done well.” he smirked. “The shape was nice, probably because of the molds you used. The taste... was good enough.”
You look at him a little sadly, or maybe a little sullenly. He laughs.
“They were good.” he says more gently. “But I think you can do better.” The smug smile returns. “Maybe if I teach you a few things? Or if we cook together? I wouldn't mind that. I bet it would be... interesting to be your tutor.” He seems to like the idea, probably because of the hierarchy you would have (in addition to the one you already have).
You arrive at his room and he invites you to come in and sit on his bed.
“My roommate is also at a club meeting.” He explains, as he picks up a box, that didn't look like anything special, from his desk. “Here.” he gives you the box and sits next to you. “I thought about making you chocolates too.” He can't look you in the eyes and tries to hide the blush that was starting to appear on his cheeks. “But... I didn't want to give them to you without knowing... I made these when I got back to Scarabia, after Kalim had gone to the club meeting.” he points to the box on your lap. “I didn't have much time to get a nicer box, sorry.”
You open the box to find several heart-shaped chocolates made with your favorite type of chocolate. But the ones in the middle had letters that, the way they were arranged, formed the phrase “I love you too”.
“You bought the ones you gave to Kalim.” Jamil says, still reluctant to look you in the eyes. “And made the ones you gave me. That's what it means, isn't it? ...Try it.”
You do so and take one of the chocolate hearts, bite into it and discover that it has your favorite filling. As you expected, the flavor is divine and you say this to Jamil when he asks you what you thought of them.
“I haven't tried them yet after they're done. Can I steal one from you?”
You say yes, but instead of his hand going towards the box, it goes towards your face, holds your chin to turn your head towards him and he kisses you.
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You knew you were screwed. Vil is demanding about everything and anything. But you also know he can still appreciate someone’s effort and dedication. Even if your chocolates don’t turn out perfectly, which is most likely the case, you know he’ll still be happy with your hard work and thoughtfulness.
Your real problems lie elsewhere: nutrition and healthy ingredients. Your best bet was dark chocolate, it’s the healthiest of all. But you couldn't just make boring plain chocolates, and making them in the shape of a heart wasn't enough. You search for healthy chocolate recipes for Valentine's Day and you find a recipe for dark chocolate with fruits and nuts.
It was a lot of work to remove the seeds from the kumquats, chop the almonds, dry the cherries and do everything as the recipe said, but eventually your heart-shaped chocolates with fruits and nuts were ready on time. You just had to buy the prettiest purple box you could find at Sam's Mystery Shop and a good red bow.
The next day, Valentine's Day, you took your chocolates to Pomefiore to deliver them.
Rook would be happy with any type of chocolate you give him. The simple fact that you give him a box or even just a bag on such a special day makes him beam with joy. And of course he also bought you a box of chocolates, your favorites, by the way. (Regardless of whether you told him which ones they were or not)
The best chocolates you can give Epel are the ones you know he likes but that Vil wouldn't let him eat. Even if Vil found out, it would be rude not to accept such a kind gift, so according to etiquette he would have to accept your gift. The two of you smile mischievously at each other. And yes, of course he also bought you chocolates. He asked his family to send special chocolates typical of Harveston just for you.
All that was left was to deliver the last box to Vil, but before you turned around to go to his room to see if he was there, he was kind enough to appear in the lounge at that moment. The way he walked towards you with his eyes fixed on you and that beautiful discreet smile made you feel like the most special person in the room.
You say he arrived just in time because you were about to go look for him, and you give him the pretty purple box with a red bow. He smiles in satisfaction and pick up the box.
“Well, I can't say I'm surprised to receive another box of chocolates today. And I see that this box is not of any brand. May I then assume that they were made by you?” His smile softens even more when you confirm, but even so he doesn't miss the opportunity to add a little smugness to it. “Well, let's see how you did then?”
Vil opens the box and is actually surprised by what he sees inside. He picks up one of the chocolate hearts and examines it.
“Dark chocolate.” He says in an approving tone. “I see almonds, dried cherries and... are those candied kumquats?” The fruits were what surprised him the most and he looks at you in such a neutrally curious way that you don't know whether he approved of those chocolates or not.
You tell him that you know how much he values his good nutrition, so you tried to find the healthiest Valentine's chocolate recipe, and that was the recipe you chose. You add that you followed the recipe to the letter as if defending yourself in case he doesn't like it, but at that moment you see his shoulders relax, the smile return and his eyes look at you with affection.
“You aren’t the first one to give me handmade chocolates.” he starts saying and looks at your chocolates in his hands. “But you are the first one who knows me well enough to know what I would actually like to receive. Except for Rook, but he's a strange exception. All the other boxes that arrived were of the sweetest and most caloric chocolates imaginable. I understand and appreciate the gesture but...” He looks back at you and gives you a small smile. “They don't really know me, do they?”
He takes a bite of your chocolate and looks serious about tasting it for seconds that feel like minutes to you. You ask how they are and if they taste good, he looks at you seriously and then starts laughing when he sees your worried face.
“I’m sorry, I just wanted to mess with you a little. I would like to say that these chocolates are quite good, but to do so I have to add that they are, for the skills of someone who is not a professional cook. I don't think I've ever tried this kind of sweets before. Could you give me the recipe?” and even eats the rest of the chocolate he has in his hand, with an expression of clear delight.
Your instinct tells you that something is going on behind you. You look over and see Epel slightly uncomfortable with the way Rook is looking at you and Vil as if he was watching the most wonderful and touching romantic play in the history of theater. He doesn't say a word as if a single syllable could ruin the moment, and he looks like he wants to burst into tears with emotion.
You feel a gentle hand on the small of your back, you turn your head again and see that it is Vil pulling you slightly to invite you to go with him.
“I can imagine the work it took you to remove the seeds from these kumquats and candied them. Such thoughtfulness and well done hard work deserves a proper reward. Don't you think?”
His gaze alternates between looking at you sweetly and looking at Rook in a subtly threatening way, as if warning him not to snoop around. The same look could be given to any other student who looked at you with the same nosy curiosity.
Vil invites you to go with him to a place, you follow him and you arrive at the door of his room. He looks haughtily at the corridor and sees that no one followed you, or if they did they would be left behind in that same corridor. He invites you in, saying that he also has something for you. After he closes the door behind him, he goes to his desk and picks up a small, beautiful, heart-shaped golden box to give you.
“Seeing me enjoying your chocolates was a spectacle and proof enough of your value to the public.” he says referring to the other Pomefiore students who were in the lounge. “They don't deserve to witness more.”
He makes a gesture encouraging you to open the box and you do so. There were few chocolates, at least compared to the ones you gave him, but not only were they beautifully decorated, they were also made from your favorite type of chocolate. Even if your favorite is the least healthy of all. You look at him in surprise.
“Don't get used to it.” he warns you, raising a finger. “I did less on purpose so as not to be so detrimental to your nutrition.” he pokes your nose gently “This is a rare exception, you hear?”
Even though you know what his answer would be, you ask if he was the one who made them.
“Yes, they look astonishing professional, don't they?” He smiled with the greatest pride, before returning to his regular speech. “I also thought about preparing something nutritious, until I thought about what you would like to receive and not what I would like to give. If I did what I thought was best for you while neglecting your own tastes, it would not only be wrong but an insult. It would be the same as all those fans who offered me chocolates without knowing what I would like or even wanting to try. Those chocolates would convey the message that I like you but I want to mold you into the person I want you to be and that is both a lie and a blasphemy. I want to help you improve of course, but that doesn't mean I don't like who you are now. So I used your favorite chocolates and fillings regardless, but did it in small quantities. However, if you wake up tomorrow with a stomach ache because you ate them all, don't blame me, understood?”
If you hug him he will tell you to be careful so the chocolates don't fall out of the box, but he will hug you back, maybe just more delicately.
You taste one of the beautiful chocolates and they are delicious. The pride on Vil's face only increases when you tell him this. Catching you off guard, he gently holds your chin with his index finger and thumb and gives you a sweet kiss on the cheek.
“This is my thank you for your gift.” he then puts his face right in front of yours, your noses almost touching “And this is my thank you for you.” and he kisses your lips.
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“ARE YOU CRAZY?!” Idia tells Ortho. “Me? Cook? For THEM? Do you want them to hate me for giving them food so poorly prepared that it could poison them? Should I check-up you? Your cause-and-effect conclusions seems to be miscalculating things.”
“I don’t detect any abnormality in my data processing.” Ortho guarantees him. “But that's what the rules of Valentine's Day tradition say. And I can even use quotes from your games and mangas to support my argument.”
“OI! Don't use those things against me, it's a low blow! Besides, like you said, those are games and mangas, or even movies, they're not real. Real life is not a fairy tale where you always conveniently fall in love with the right person who feels the same way about you. There is a much greater chance that you will fall in love with someone you don't deserve and end up preferring Prince Charming.”
“So what?”
“W-WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'SO WHAT'?”
“You don't need to declare yourself to them. You just have to offer them chocolates. If the feeling is not mutual, just leave it at that. But I'm sure that (Y/N) will offer you something. Especially knowing how much you like sweets.”
“Oh yeah, sure, it's so much better to receive a friendzone chocolate than nothing at all. It must be the new trend to replace the bucket of ice cream to eat by the spoonful while crying watching a romcom wrapped in a blanket in the middle of the dark.”
“Come on. You know (Y/N), they would appreciate anything you did simply because you tried. They are the type to appreciate the effort and intention more than the end result. I've heard them tell how happy they were with a mere postcard from Malleus Draconia during the winter break.”
“That’s because he's The Malleus Draconia. Anything coming from someone like him is spectacular. Even a curse would be a source of pride for someone to receive simply because he acknowledged their existence.”
While Ortho was trying to convince Idia to At Least Try to make some kind of chocolate for you, you were looking for molds for your chocolates at Sam's Mystery Shop.
And ‘coincidence of coincidences’ Sam had in stock molds in the shape of items from a mobile game that Idea loves. Funny enough, they were also sweets, items for the cards if you're not mistaken. But the problem arose when you saw the price: 130 thaumarks. Sam approached you when he saw your certainty in wanting to buy that item turn into doubt and consideration.
You told him you wanted to buy that, but it was too expensive for your tight budget. So, knowing that you're a trustworthy little imp, he lets you pay what you can for it and work a day or two at the store until you can pay the rest. But he wouldn't need you anytime soon, he'll tell you when he does. You accept the deal and get the molds in addition to the ingredients and the bright blue box with a black bow.
Knowing that he loves sweets, you decide to use white chocolate and milk chocolate. And you made a lot of them, enough to fill the box almost to its limit.
Meanwhile, the only way Ortho found to convince Idia to get you chocolates was by suggesting that he make some and buy others and wait to see if you would give him chocolates and what kind. If you gave him friendship chocolates, he would give you the box he bought; if you gave him chocolates you made yourself (as if), he would give you the ones he made... and the ones he bought too. “I'm terrible at cooking. It's better to play it safe if they come out inedible.”
The next day, Valentine's Day, you take your gifts to go to Ignihyde to deliver them to the Shroud brothers.
You give Ortho a cute heart-shaped power back. You tell him that you would like to give him chocolates too, but since he doesn't eat you try to find something equivalent. And even if it's not a very good charger, it's still a cute decoration. Ortho completely agrees with you and is very happy that you put so much thought into his gift. He gives you chocolate in return, a box of your favorites.
Idia is nowhere to be seen, but Ortho knows you know where to find him. You go to his bedroom door and knock on it. The door opens for you. As you might expect, he is sitting in front of his computer. He pauses the game he was playing, takes off his headphones and turns his chair to look at you.
“Hey, um, you don't need to give me chocolates out of pity if that's the case. I don't need to get something just because my brother received a gift.”
You assure him that it's not out of pity, it's because you really wanted to give him those chocolates.
“I hope you didn't spend too much. I don't want you to regret it to much.”
"I may have spent a little more than I expected," you admit, handing him the box and placing it on his lap. "But I'll be keeping the molds.”
“Molds?! You didn't actually...” He stops to first check if what he thought you had done was true.
He opens the box and it takes him a few seconds to analyze those shapes well. You are startled to see him jump out of his chair.
“THESE ARE GROOVY SWEETS! Where did you found them? Wait! You said you found molds? I didn't even know there were molds to make them! How much did it cost? This game is quite niche, it must not have been easy to find. Or cheap.”
You say finding them was easy because you simply saw them in Sam's Mystery Shop and recognized the shapes and the game logo. Idia asks you about the price again and you try to change the subject until he says that if you don't tell him he'll look it up online. And you finally tell him the price.
“And isn't that a little tight for you?” He doesn't seem the least bit surprised by the price. “I mean, the money you have comes from the headmage as far as I know, right? And I don't think he gives you much more than the bare minimum.”
You tell him about the deal with Sam.
“WHAT?! Oh, No! You won't get into debt because of me!” He says determined “I'll send Sam all the money you spent and what's left to pay for the molds. And if you don't tell me how much it was, I'll just send him, like, I don't know, a 500 thaumarks or something and you can buy whatever you want with what's left.”
You say he doesn't need to exaggerate so much, you could even accept him paying for the molds for you, but the rest was ridiculous.
“Hey, I may not be a prince but my family is still quite wealthy, you know.” he says with a smug, which then turns into his cute smile. “You must have had so much work making them, let me at least help with the expenses.” the smug returns “You know I'm going to send him the money no matter what you say right?”
You sigh a ‘Fine’ and ask if he could finally taste the chocolates. He takes one of the white chocolates and bites it. You even say that you thought about putting something else in them, but you didn't know what, however it seems that this wasn’t necessary. He was eating the chocolate with such a cute smile, and the ends of his hair started to turn a slightly pink.
“Did you try them after they were done?” he asks.
You say you ate the first one you made to taste test it, but not the ones you gave him. He takes another one and brings it to your lips for you to eat. You open your mouth and grab the chocolate, it was good, but what you liked most was the fact that he fed it to you. After this episode of confidence, he becomes embarrassed again.
“I... um...” he then proceeds to speak in the speed of light. “Ortho made me make chocolates for you because it was like the rules of tradition or whatever but you don't need to eat them they definitely suck. B-b-but I bought better ones for you.” he picks up a relatively large box and returns to speaking at a more intelligible speed. “I bought the biggest box of your favorite chocolates they've ever sold.”
You accept the box, but still ask what he said about making chocolates for you.
“What? How can you still understand what I say at that speed? Don't tell me you're one of those people who puts a video on x2 speed or something.” You look at him disapprovingly, showing that you know he's trying to change the subject again. He sighs. “Listen, I know the rules are that when you... really... like... someone you should make the chocolates yourself, just like... you... did. But what does it matter how or who does them, what matters is whether they taste good or not, right? It all ends in the same place anyway.”
“So... these chocolates,” you point to the box you gave him “or any others would be the same to you?”
“Wait! No! That's not what I meant! T-t-the ones you made n-needed to be made, t-they can't be bought.”
“So, would you prefer if I had bought them? Surely they would be better made by a professional, right?”
“N-n-no! You are distorting what I... No, actually, that's exactly what I said... B-b-but that does NOT apply here, not to you, I just... I SUCK AT COOKING, OKAY!? I didn't want to give you something ugly, poorly made and with horrible taste. But fine! If that's what you want!” He goes to the closet and takes out a pink heart-shaped box to give it to you. “You can have it. Don't say I didn't try to warn you.”
You pick up the box and open it to find cute hearts made with your favorite type of chocolate with sprinkles on top. They didn't look bad, they even looked well made. You pick one up and taste it, and it tastes good to you. You actually liked it and tell him that.
“Y-you actually enjoyed that amateurish attempt at cooking? You feeling okay? Are your taste buds buggy? You don't need to say that just to be nice, you know?”
You assure him that you're not just being nice, that you really liked it. Of course they could be better, just like yours could be too. Maybe you should try doing them together sometime?
“First Ortho makes me cook and now you? Do you really like me or just like to see me suffer?”
He insists that you keep the ones he bought too because they were for you anyway. If you give him a kiss on the cheek to thank him he will get all flustered and the ends of his hair will turn bright pink.
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You knew very well what kind of chocolates you wanted to make for Malleus: ice cream! But you didn't want to offer him a bowl of ice cream, so you search the internet to see if there was any type of Valentine's Day chocolate that involves ice cream and you find the ice cream bonbons, which are basically balls of ice cream, covered in chocolate.
The recipe you found was for vanilla and chocolate ice creams, which also seemed like the safest choices. You don't make a lot, but you can still make several of each type of chocolate and decorate them with white sprinkles on the dark and milk chocolate ones and rainbow sprinkles on the white chocolate ones.
Unfortunately, since they are cold sweets, you can't put them in a normal box, so you put them in a container and store them in the fridge.
The next day, Valentine's Day, you wonder how you're going to get those chocolates to Malleus. You don't want to ruin them and you're afraid it could take so long to find him that the chocolates will start to melt even if you use a container designed for cold food. At that moment, someone knocks on your door.
“Good morning, (Y/N).” Malleus greets you when you open the door. “Happy Valentine's Day. I hope you had a good night's sleep. I'm here to fulfill the tradition of offering chocolates to my loved ones.” He snaps his fingers and a beautiful black heart-shaped box with a translucent green bow appears floating.
Malleus takes the box and hands it to you with a slight but sincere smile. As you pick up the box and thank him, you remember that ever since you woke up you were almost certain to hear movement outside Ramshackle Dorm. And that's why you ask Malleus if he was there for a long time.
“I will not hide the fact that I arrived before you woke up, but it has not been that long. Only two or three hours perhaps?”
He tells you it's no problem, for him it's not that long, but you still invite him in since he's been out there for so long to you. The two of you sit on the lounge sofa and Malleus can't take his eyes off you, he's so eager for you to open the box. When you finally do, you find beautiful hearts of your favorite chocolate with detailed and delicate line art. Malleus was so happy with your reaction, especially if you say you feel sorry for eating them because they are so beautiful.
“Im glad you enjoyed the presentation so much.” he says with an amused smile. “But please do not let that stop you from consuming them. Unfortunately, their edibility is ephemeral, so don’t let your desire to appreciate its exterior prevent you from savoring its interior and appreciating it in its entirety. Furthermore, I truly wish to know your opinion about my cooking.”
“You were the one who made them?” you ask.
“Yes, it was I.” he confirms with a proud smile. “That is why I'm rather looking forward to hearing your thoughts.”
You take one of the chocolate hearts and bite into it to taste your favorite filling too. It was delicious and Malleus couldn't have been happier about it. Then you remember your chocolates and get up to get them without telling him what you were going to do in the kitchen. You return with a modest-looking container for cold food in your hands and sit down next to him again.
You apologize for not having a box as pretty as the one he gave you and explain that you didn't know how you were going to get those chocolates to him since they had to be kept cold.
“There is no need to worry about that.” he reassures you with a loving smile. “I completely understand your dilemma. Fortunately, you needn't to think about that anymore for I am already here.”
He gladly accepts the container and opens it.
“They certainly look lovely” he says, smiling. “Am I right in concluding that your container dilemma indicates that you made them?” When he sees you confirm, his smile grows and becomes even more affectionate. “From the looks of it alone you seem to have done an excellent work. I'm looking forward to trying them.”
He carefully picks up one of the chocolates and bites into it, his eyes widen when he realized what the inside was.
“Ice cream...” he mutters to himself with a charming smile and then looks at you lovingly. “Is this why you had trouble figuring out a way to preserve them while transporting them? You focused so much on doing something to my liking that you ended up neglecting the logistical aspect.”
You confirm and he laughs heartily.
“I believe you are as aware of the rules of this tradition as I am.” his smile becomes seductive. “Chocolate made by one's hands should be a declaration of love, shall it not?” He takes your reaction as a confirmation.
He caresses your face before giving you a delicate, loving kiss on the cheek. You look at him and see his lime green eyes shining with the most love there could be.
After that he will offer to accompany you to Diasomnia so you can deliver your chocolates to the others. He will never leave your side again and will find any excuse to get so close to you that he will respectfully put his arm around your shoulder or waist.
Silver is too oblivious to realize what's happening between you and Malleus. As for the chocolates, he doesn't give you your favorites because he doesn't know which they were, but he gives you the ones he genuinely thought and hoped you would like. And even if they weren't your favorites, they were ones you really liked.
Lilia will have that smile every time he looks at you two and will try to mess with you a little. As for the chocolates, he said he would have liked to have made your chocolates himself but, you know, rules and misunderstandings to be avoided. (For a moment you shared Riddle's adoration for rules) So he offers you the most beautiful chocolates of your favorite type that he could find.
Sebek will enter into an internal conflict because he doesn't know whether to be jealous of you or happy for his liege. As for the chocolates, he doesn't give you anything too fancy, the chocolates even seem quite simple and basic, but “coincidentally” they are your favorite type and with your favorite filling too.
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If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
*Sorry for the Cook Leona kinda bait, but let's be real, he would never even try to cook for anyone, not even himself, haha. Also, he is fully aware that he is terrible at cooking and he didn't want to give you poorly made chocolates when he could buy the best ones out there.
Did this get too long? Sorry 😣
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username0204 · 1 month ago
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"Will is such a whiny little helpless scared boy"
Excuse me what?? Are we talking about the same Will Byers? I really have no idea where those opinions come from... someone's ass I suppose.
There's a lot of talk about Will being traumatized and all but can we please acknowledge that he is also one of the strongest characters in ST? Tbh he's kinda badass if you think about it... but just more of a quiet, resilient, selfless kind of badass...
Ok, let's recap:
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01. Will at age 11 beggs his mom to let him see Poltergeist. Fucking Poltergeist. I know people who couldn’t sit through Coraline at that age… This kid is a horror and punk rock fan, that doesn't really scream "snowflake" to me
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02. After being followed to his house by an unknown creature at age 12 he doesn't hide under the bed... noooo, he goes outside and grabbs a shotgun - a fucking shotgun! I'd like to remind you, that the only other kid to hold any kind of weapon in S1 is Lucas and it's a slingshot... In S2 Max holds a bat and Mike holds... well... a lamp and a goblet xd To this day I believe he's the only one to hold a gun among the "kids" generation and probably is the only one to know how to use it (though I wouldn't put it past Max tbh)... and it was S1
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03. Kid somehow survives a week in another dimension that killed multiple adults during that time... not only that - he manages to figure out a way to communicate (smart kid) and one of his first messages to his mom is not "HELP", it's "RUN" - his priority is to save her, not for her to save him
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04. After waking up in the hospital, the very first thing he does is ask Jonathan about a bandage on his hand as if he didn't just almost die... "Don't mind me! There's a cut on your hand, are you sure you're ok??"
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05. Will at age 12 starts seeing things that brings him back to the other dimension that tried to kill him but this time there's another creature following him... Then gets possessed by that creature at age 13 and in both instances decides at first not to tell anyone about any of it bc he doesn't want others to worry about him or treat him like he can't take care of himself
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06. While being possessed at age 13 he manages to find a way to communicate (again) with a fucking morse code (smartass) and apparently he's the only one aside from Hopper to know it by heart (while being possessed, mind you). And what does he communicate you might ask? Well, he figures out a way to kill the thing that attacks the town knowing full well that it will probably kill him too. Does he say it might kill him though? Nope. He'd rather get himself killed than put his loved ones in danger. Gladly Mike was able to figure it out...
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07. After all of that at age 14 he finally can live a "normal" life while still feeling the presence of that thing that possessed him and took control over his body... and he is so fucking patient and tries to keep a level head with his friends that straight on dismiss him and he is able to take so much shit from them (especially from his best friend he is in love with) before he finally snaps. Then again he sweeps that under the rug and doesn't hold a grudge bc there are more important stuff happening which he can feel thanks to that lovely bluetooth connection he has with his former supernatural abuser
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08. At age 15 (shortly after his birthday that everyone forgot) he buries his feelings again for (what he believes is) the greater good. He "sells" his own love and a painting that he poured his heart into to repair his best friend's relationship and to cure his insecurities. After that he encourages said friend to make a grand confession at his own expense bc he believes that it might save the day.
And after all of this you want to tell me that he's whiny, weak and helpless? Did we watch the same show?
Funny thing about Will being "saved" in both S1 and S2 is that it didn't come from Will... he didn't ask to be saved. It was Joyce's and Mike's love that saved him, that brought everyone else on board. It was all those people who cared and went out of their way to save him even if he didn't care to be saved.
That is not a testament of Will needing to be saved, it's the testament of how much he means to all of those people for them to love him this much to save him.
He is not weak, he is loved. <3
*I know he goes through so much more shit but I really tried to focus on him handling situations and how it shows his character and not on the stuff that happens to him that makes us feel bad for him if that makes sense xd
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burgojo · 4 months ago
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PRIMADONNA. GOJO SATORU / M!READER
summary. the easiest way to a man's heart is through his stomach – in more than one way.
wc. 9k
tags. smut | dom top reader, sub bottom gojo, husbands gojo/reader, teacher reader. anniversary sex, "sir" for reader + "puppy" for gojo, oral (r. receiving), praise + degradation (gojo receiving), humping, riding, light s/m, bondage (wrists), overstimulation + multiple orgasms (gojo), belly bulge + size kink, crying, off-screen gojo in lingerie
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"Satoru."
You smile, your eyes crinkling at the corners.
"If I don't get delayed, I'll be returning at night after my mission. It's a long plane ride back, so don't stay up for me, alright?"
Satoru was miffed, to say the least. How dare they steal away his husband on such short notice? You barely had time to pack a suitcase. And worst of all? It coincided with your anniversary.
For the first time in ten years, he would be spending that day alone. He wanted to be angry – angry at those spineless geezers cooped up in that musty room – but all he could really feel was disappointment. You'd been an anchor for so long that he felt listless without you by his side, throwing the weight of your name behind his whenever he did something he thought was right.
Whatever. At least he woke up to a 'happy anniversary' voice message from you that morning.
"An exponential is a function of the form f of x equals a to the power of x, where a cannot equal one, zero, or anything less than zero. You'll want to note down these eight laws on the board. I'd recommend putting them in a table at the top of a page so you don't have to go flipping for them in exams. I'll go through them one at a time."
Satoru drops the white stick of chalk for a pale blue one, which he then uses to scrawl a line of numbers in a blank space on the left side of the blackboard. "So – a to the x, a to the y equals a to the x plus y. This is a biggie! You'll see it a lot. When bases a are the same and the terms are multiplied, the exponents are added. Added. Don't multiply them."
"Sensei!" Yuji's hand shoots up into the air. "Why aren't they multiplied?"
"Great question!" He glances over the board, then erases a large chunk of old numbers in one fell swoop. Nobara stops writing immediately with an odd expression and Satoru laughs, waving a hand as if to dissipate her troubles. "You can copy off Megumi's notes for that example, Kugisaki. Just leave a space for it."
He continues, "Now, Yuji, we remember that an exponential is multiplying the base by itself a certain number of times, yes? Let's use two raised to the power of three. That's two times two times two. Now, if you have two to the power of four, that's two by two by two by two. Phew, what a mouthful. Are we tracking?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Good! We'll multiply these terms now. Wait!" He raises a finger and splits the two strings of numbers into two sets of brackets. "Putting these brackets here to separate the terms for clarity... Anyway – because the base number, two, is being multiplied over and over—" He slashes a little multiplication sign between the two brackets. "Ta-da! You've got two multiplied by itself seven times, so the answer is two to the power of seven. Therefore, you can skip this whole process in your written answers and just add the powers! Yay!"
"That's crazy."
"When it clicks, it clicks, right?" Satoru snaps his fingers, and to Yuji's left, Megumi snaps out of staring out of the window. "No slacking, Megumi! I can see you daydreaming over there."
"Kinda hard not to with only three students," Nobara mutters under her breath. At least when she dozes off, it's not with her head turned ninety degrees and propped on a fist. Seriously – it's like Megumi never learnt to nap discreetly at the back of the class. Come to think of it, she's certain he's never hidden earbuds under his hair, either.
"Sorry," he murmurs nonchalantly. "I'm not a maths person."
"Megumi, you're tearing me apart."
He shrugs.
"Since what you're doing is obviously more important than listening to your awesome teacher, would you like to share with the class?" Satoru drawls with a shit-eating grin. He sets the chalk aside, dusting off his hands, and leans over his desk, hands flat and forming a triangle with his thumbs and forefingers. "Is there a girl, Megumi-chan? A boy? Ah, a teenager's first love – I still remember mine as if it were yesterday..."
"Cut it out, you're not that old." Megumi glances outside again. Satoru follows his line of sight, but nothing stands out to him. "There was a guy on campus. Looked like a weirdo."
"Oh, for the love of – do you not remember what a finger to the lips means?"
Behind his blindfold, Satoru's eyes shoot open. It's uncomfortable, but so is his face-splitting smile, so wide it hurts his jaw.
None of that matters. He explodes with joy.
"Baby!" he squeals. He launches himself with the speed of a fastball at the person standing in the doorway. It's a miracle nobody goes crashing through the opposite wall.
"You're back, you're back," Satoru coos, burying his face in your shoulder and squeezing your middle so tightly that your spine pops. "Oh, man, you have no idea how much I missed you!"
You laugh, a little wheezy from having the air knocked out of your lungs, and pat his back. A ring glints on your finger. He presses himself deeper into you and you have to brace to stop yourself from toppling over. You close your eyes and inhale the soft floral scent of his hair, which draws out all the tension in your body. Lord knows you've accumulated a lot of it recently.
"There, there," you hum, gently grasping the back of his neck to peel him off you. For the first time, you get a good look at him. He hangs from the nape of his jacket like a kitten, a big dumb grin on his face. His pale cheeks are flushed, and your heart races a little from his sheer excitement. It's flattering.
What a sweetheart.
"We can talk later," you murmur with a smile, setting him down on flat feet. "Just wanted to stop by to drop off your lunch."
He glances down at the lunchbox-sized insulated bag in your hand. He accepts it gently, cradling it like gold. "My lunch...?"
"Mm, that's right. I hate to imagine how you fared without me." You slip a hand into the pocket of your pants. "I'll cook tonight, okay? Anyway, that's all. Toodle-oo."
"Wait!" Yuji slams his hands against his desk as his chair screeches against the ground. "Did I hear that right? Did sensei call you 'baby'?"
"Yes," you say, and Satoru's heart flutters at the pride in your voice. "You must be Itadori Yuji, and you must be Kugisaki Nobara. Satoru spoke of you often. Nice to finally meet you – I'm Satoru's husband."
Nobara replies in kind with a little bow and a polite greeting. Megumi's the only one still sitting, sheltering his eyes with his hand as if he can hide from the inevitable embarrassment. She turns to Satoru with an accusing glare, her hands on her hips. "No way you scored a guy like that with your personality! What'd you do, huh? Promise him money?"
"He hasn't even introduced himself yet and you're already taking his side?" Satoru whines, both of his arms wrapped around your own.
"I can tell that he's a respectable and dutiful man. You, however..."
"I mean, opposites attract, right?" Yuji offers kindly.
"Yuji! Are you saying I'm not a respectable person?" He huffs. "I'm telling Suguru to work you guys twice as hard tomorrow morning. Ridiculous..."
Nobara jabs an accusing finger at him. "You're ridiculous. Which is why I'm so shocked that anyone with any sense would marry you."
"Thrice as hard."
"Easy," you murmur to Satoru fondly. "But he's right about one thing. I haven't introduced myself properly. My name is YN Gojo-LN. You'll have me as a teacher next year. Call me LN-sensei – helps avoid the confusion."
Satoru tugs on your sleeve with a pout. "C'mon... I like it when you use my name. They're not gonna get confused by it. After all, I am the prettier one."
"Hard disagree, sensei," Nobara says flatly.
You smile as Satoru presses himself further into your side, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. "Don't worry, darling. You're plenty good-looking to me."
"You think so?"
"I know so, my beautiful little lily," you say affectionately, pinching his cheek. He holds your hand to his cheek, leaning into it, and Nobara nearly gags at the dopey expression on Satoru's face and the way his leg kicks up behind him like a schoolgirl with a crush. She glances at Megumi with disbelief written on her face and jabs a thumb over her shoulder. He nods solemnly as you coo over Satoru, your voice light and bouncy like a summer breeze.
You turn your attention back to the three first-years, all looking far more attentive after their break from staring at slanting strings of numbers. "It was lovely to meet you – and good to see you, too, Megumi, I can see you slouching there – but Satoru is only one-out-of-eight exponential laws explained. I'm not about to be the cause of bad grades. Ciao, everyone."
Reluctantly, Satoru unfolds himself from around you, and you're quite surprised. You'd think he'd fight harder to keep—
He seizes your wrist in a steely grip and drags you out into the hall. He shuts the door on his students' exclamations.
Immediately, he collapses into your chest, rather more raw and vulnerable than earlier. You wrap your arms around him and coo into his ear, cupping the back of his neck. He sighs, short and sharp and a little shaky, and his breath puffs against your collarbone.
"I was worried I'd lose you," he whispers, hands gliding all over your body as if to prove to himself that you're all still there, warm and complete and ready to embrace him. "Those damn idiots, taking you from me. Especially at a time like this..."
"Relax, dearie," you hum, and the old nickname makes his lips twitch upwards. "I was your equal for a while. I won't keel over so easily."
"You took on two special grades at once and went in ill-prepared because they couldn't do their damn jobs. How am I supposed to trust them when they can't even count to two?"
"Then trust me," you implore, cupping his cheek. He's always been thin, but you're glad you're back. Maybe he'll be less cranky with some meat in his stomach. "Always said we'd get through this together, didn't we? That includes dealing with the elders. I've got your back, but let's not make problems now – not when we have Yuji to look after."
He sighs and pushes his cheek into your shoulder a little harder, rubbing his face into you like a cat. His hair tickles your cheek. His grip tightens, then loosens. "Ugh. You're crampin' my style. Rebellion suits me."
"Obedience suits you better," you murmur lowly, and Satoru shivers at the timbre of your voice. Your hand slips down to cup his chin, lifting his face to yours. His breath hitches. "Listen to me, Satoru. You know I'm right."
He exhales shakily as you dip your head, lips brushing his. He leans into it, trying to take more, but you turn away. "But—"
"Satoru."
Heat zings up his spine. Your nails dig slightly into his skin and he swallows harshly, burning up under the weight of your gaze. Half condescending and half tender, you rake your stare over him from head to toe. It lasts no longer than a second but Satoru's knees weaken anyway.
"Just don't do anything without me," you whisper, bringing his face closer to yours. You press your lips to his and he fists the front of your shirt tightly, gasping as your free hand glides down his waist to rest on the small of his back. He arches slightly and tilts his head to deepen the kiss.
He tastes like sugar and oranges and despite the not-so-sweet flavour of the coffee you had earlier, he devours you as if his life depends on it, tongue twisting with yours. He moans softly at the smoky roasted taste, dark and rich. Even after all these years, he marvels at how perfectly he matches with you – the yin to your yang, the shrike to your thorn. He'd be missing out any other way.
His heartbeat quickens. You can feel it beneath his ribs, his chest pressed to yours, and even through his thick clothes you can feel him yearn for you – the very essence of his bright soul twists and tumbles, reaching for yours. He is the orchid to your oak and just as needy.
Before you forget yourself and get too handsy in the middle of the school hallway, you draw away, tugging your hands back to your sides. Satoru whines softly with the loss of your touch and your lips on his. He lifts his face, lips pursed into a pout as he chases another kiss. You press a finger against his lips with a chuckle.
"Not yet, Satoru. You still haven't promised me."
He pushes your hand away impatiently. "Promise." He puckers up and leans in again.
You click your tongue and grab a fistful of his hair, keeping him at bay the same way you would with an overly-affectionate cat. You lift a brow. "And what are you promising?"
He groans, and you know he's rolling his eyes under his blindfold. "That I'm not gonna make trouble for us. I promise I won't square up against a bunch of geriatrics. Happy, baby? Can I get my kiss, now?"
"Only one more." You dip in, and Satoru hums appreciatively. You open your eyes again with a tiny smile. "There. Now, off you go. You have maths to teach, nerd."
"You're a nerd," he rebuts automatically. "You don't have to leave, y'know. Just sit in the back, like the principal does."
"I'd just be a distraction for you."
"But you'd make me happy. Come on. It's our anniversary."
"The answer's no, Satoru." You smile, tugging his hair gently, and his head feels light. He understands why they call it lovesick. "G'luck, sweetheart."
His bottom lip juts out and he crosses his arms, glancing aside. He ruffles his hair roughly as if to drag himself out of his own thoughts. "Fine... Will I see you later?"
"Mm. I'll take a nap when I get home and then start on dinner. I was thinking something Thai?" You touch his shoulder and he shivers slightly, fingers wrapped loosely around your wrist. It's endearing how infatuated he is with you. You fix his blindfold, smoothing out the sides. "Get home safely, Satoru."
"Yessir." He darts in one last time, sneaking in one last kiss on the cheek. He grins, playful and flushed, as you grumble something about being an 'enabler'. You lift a hand and begin to turn away.
When you're halfway down the hall, he calls out, "You better make it up to me, hot stuff!"
"You're spoilt enough as it is," you call back, eyes crinkling. "Toodles!"
Satoru hums a little tune under his breath as he steps back into the classroom, sliding the door closed behind him. There's a bounce in his step as he moves towards his desk, hovering over a textbook and flipping forward a few pages to find new equations to throw up on the board.
After a pause, with Satoru's soft humming the only thing filling the room, Nobara finally breaks the silence.
"So, sensei... are you gonna tell us what that was all about?"
He glances up, a clueless smile on his face. "Eh? What was what about?"
She stares, appalled. "Uh, the fact that you're married? To the coolest-looking guy I've seen here? He must really be something if he's got you wrapped around his finger like that..."
Megumi sits up in his seat, picking up his pen and ruler and busying himself with ruling new margins into his blank pages. "He's not much better than Gojo, Kugisaki. Together, they're both total fools."
"How can he be more of a fool than he already is?"
"You never mentioned a partner, Gojo-sensei," Yuji says, having clearly abandoned any notion of learning. His notebook isn't even open anymore. "How'd you meet?"
"I didn't take you for a romantic, Yuji," Satoru coos, though he tosses his piece of chalk onto the blackboard's ledge and dusts off his hands. He circles the desk to sit back against it, clasping his hands with a wide smile. "We met here, actually! He's older than me, and he was the one who gave me a campus tour and showed me my room. He was just as handsome back then as he is now. I liked hanging out with him a lot."
Yuji's eyes are wide with intrigue. "Oh! Were you high-school sweethearts? That's so neat, sensei!"
"In a way," he replies, voice soft with fondness. "At first, it was a political marriage. He has an influential name and a uniquely powerful technique, so our families thought it was a good idea to pair us up so the other clans would be less likely to stand against our decisions. We became good friends, so we grew to be alright with it – we were basically already living in each other's rooms, anyway. Marrying him meant I could eat his curry more often, so I was honestly pretty eager to move in with him after graduating."
"Really? You seemed like the type of person to be bad with spice," Nobara comments, tilting her chair on its back legs. "Guess I was wrong."
Leaning back, Megumi speaks around Yuji's body. "No, he is. LN-san often makes two dishes – one with spice, one without. He started when I was a kid, but he still does it for Gojo."
Nobara clicks her tongue. "What? Seriously – he's way too good for you, sensei! I can't believe this. The idea that someone like you had a boyfriend at my age when I don't... I'm, like, actually upset."
"I mean, I also gained two children shortly after, so maybe you should wait a bit for a boyfriend, Kugisaki," Satoru says thoughtfully, tapping his chin. Megumi's face reddens at the statement and his knuckles turn white around his pen.
"Don't say that," he scoffs. "Your marriage had nothing to do with the two of us!"
Pouting, Satoru wags a finger in his direction. "So rude, Megumi-chan! I'm telling your dad. No curry for you for a month."
He rolls his eyes and his mouth curls. "You're annoying."
Nobara snorts and hides her snickers behind her palm. She leans in Yuji's direction and whispers, "Guess he's got a favourite parent."
He nods in agreement. Clearing his throat, Yuji dutifully raises his hand, looking grave. "Sensei, if you're married, why don't you wear a ring?"
"Hm? I do! Wanna see it? Oh, of course you do, you asked," he says cheerfully. He thrusts a hand down the tall neck of his collar and pulls out a silver chain, off of which hangs a platinum band studded with tiny, glittering diamonds. He beams, turning the pretty little thing this way and that to catch the light. "His is more traditional, 'cause he's a fuddy-duddy, but silver suits my skin tone better and diamonds are a classic."
He unclasps the chain from around his neck, and Yuji and Nobara instantly shoot up out of their chairs to inspect the ring closer. They ooh and ahh over it, discussing the bevels and facets and whatnot. He slips the band onto his left hand and shows it off with a beaming smile, nodding proudly when Nobara remarks how well it really does suit him.
"Why is your face so red, Gojo?"
The abrupt question is Megumi's. Like clockwork, everyone turns to him, then turns to Satoru. In response, he only tilts his head with an oblivious smile pasted on his face – his white hair flops over, like a dog's ears. "Eh?"
Megumi sighs and lowers his gaze, scratching tornadoes aimlessly into the margins of his page. "You're terrible – it was two months, not two years. The separation anxiety is crazy."
"He does seem like the type to be clingy," Nobara whispers to Yuji.
"It's not sepa—he thinks it's cute!" he sputters, lifting his bejewelled ring finger as if it's his middle finger. "Look – he married me for it! Jeez, Megumi, you really know how to make a guy feel bad. And you know what that means."
Megumi's face scrunches. "You're gonna follow him around the house like a lost puppy for the rest of the day."
"Right you are!" says Satoru giddily. "I'm sorta disappointed you don't live with us right now. I could've made it so much worse for you if you and YN went out in public. You'd be begging to learn about exponential and logarithmic functions then."
He turns towards the board and claps his hands, startling all three of his students as the sound echoes through the room. "Speaking of! Rule number two: power x over y with identical base a is equal to a to the x minus y. Back in your seats, boys and girl – I hope everyone's awake now. Let's power through every rule before class ends! Heh – geddit? Power? Because – oh, you're all no fun. I'm funny. Let's continue."
With a jingle of keys, Satoru twirls through the front door. "Honey, I'm hooome!"
Your voice floats through the hallway. "In the kitchen!"
He kicks his shoes off and dumps his messenger bag onto the couch. He bounds into the spacious kitchen and slithers up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
With a chuckle, you take half a step back from the open flame of the stove. "Careful. It's hot."
"Not hotter than you." His voice is muffled against your shoulder. "Didja miss me?"
"Only a little bit. You are a handful." You stir the pot, picking shards of bone out of the broth. Satoru salivates. He can already feel the tender meat falling off the bone. "You're home early, baby. Dinner won't be ready for a while."
"Rushed back to see you." He kisses your neck, inhaling deeply. The scent of your cologne is heady and woodsy, and he's embarrassed to admit that he's used it on himself when the ache really got to him. "Maybe we can... spend some time together...?"
You laugh, the sound rumbling through your chest, and Satoru smiles automatically. "Eager little thing. You really want to do that now, when I'm obviously very busy?"
"Well, the veggies aren't a pressing concern," he points at the covered bowl, "and the soup's not done. Put it on low and you have both hands free to do things with me."
"And what 'things' would that entail, Satoru?"
"Fun things." He pushes his blindfold up, revealing his startling blue eyes. He looks up at you through his white lashes, a cheeky smile spreading across his face. "Things involving this," he points at his lips, "and this." He points at yours.
Because your hands are damp from dealing with the vegetables, you can't touch him, but you turn and lean in his direction and he drapes his arms over your shoulders. You hum, taking in his beauty like an old-timey knight with his secret lover. "Sounds a bit boring, honestly. We did that earlier. Any other ideas?"
His eyes widen with betrayal. "What—? Fine! This—" his lips "—and this." His hand lowers to the zip of your jeans, brushing over the front. His tongue flickers over his lower lip as he glances down, as if he's imagining it already, and you struggle to keep your composure. His eyes lift to yours. "Yeah?"
You draw in a breath. "Nah. You don't last long enough for that."
"Mou," he whines, brows furrowing, "I can! Just let me show you – y'know, I've been practicing. I've definitely gotten better."
"Whore," you mutter affectionately, slipping out of his arms to wash your hands. You tug your sleeves higher and Satoru sighs dreamily at the sight, cupping his cheek. "You seriously want to do this now? I could burn down the house on accident."
"Yes, I wanna do it now," he huffs, hooking a slender finger beneath his blindfold, as if showing off how long and pretty they are. "The house is insured."
"You – You're ridiculous, baby." You dry your hands and face him properly, gaze flickering over his body. He squirms slightly, fidgeting with his collar. "Hm... Suppose I say yes. What would you do?"
"Ah," he breathes, stepping closer. He places his hands on your chest, pretending to fix your collared shirt, and you rest one on his hip, tugging him in. He flashes you a flustered smile as he bumps into you. "Well, I'd, um – I'd kiss it."
"Mm."
"And I'd... lick the tip, 'nd..." He shakes his head and headbutts your shoulder, eyes squeezing shut with an embarrassed titter. "Babe, don't make me say it! I'll show you, okay? I'll show you how much I missed you. Spoilers: it's a lot."
"Well, when you put it like that..." You dial down the stovetop's heat until the flame is all but gone. Satoru's grin widens. "I'm interested."
He smirks and pecks your cheek, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the kitchen. He pushes you down on the couch in the living room, taking a moment to shuck off his jacket and tug his shirt hem out from his beltline. He drapes himself over your lap, long legs bracketing yours, and places his hands on your shoulders.
Naturally, your hands come to rest upon his thighs.
He pauses. Have your hands always looked so large compared to him...? He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing. His cock stirs in his tight pants.
You lean back with a soft sigh, stroking his thighs absently. Your touch borders on his ass when it shifts up his hips and his breath hitches. You lift a brow, seemingly unaware of his racing heart. "So? Now what?"
"Shut up," he mumbles, reaching to help pull your t-shirt over your head. "Just admiring my hubby, y'know? Most would be flattered. You're mean for no reason."
"A second ago you were ready to jump my bones." You allow him to toss the shirt on the couch beside you, and his hands run appreciatively down your chest and stomach. "Let's go back to that."
"Yessir," he says breathily. He meant it teasingly, but it comes out with a slight tremor in the middle. His cheeks flush as you grab the front of his shirt and drag him towards you.
He whimpers softly as you press his ass down against your lap, his lips trapped against yours. He rocks his hips. The half-hard bulge in your pants demands his attention, and he moans your name as you pop open his shirt roughly, hands exploring his soft, smooth skin.
"Excited, are we?" you murmur, nibbling the side of his neck. The wet heat of your tongue makes him shiver, nails digging into your shoulders.
"S-Says you," he retorts, gasping softly as your callused fingers find his nipples, cute and pink. He jerks, stomach tensing, and reaches for your belt shakily, undoing it defiantly. "Not f-fair. Fuck, be gentle..."
You shake your head, exhaling softly as Satoru manages to fish you out of your open fly. Your length slaps his wrist. "We can be gentle or we can be done in time for dinner. Your choice."
Twitching as you flick his chest again, he whimpers. "You..."
"I?"
He gulps, blue eyes trained on the thick cock in his hands. He grips the base and twists his fist up and down the shaft, brushing his thumb over the slick slit. You groan softly, switching your attention to the other side of his neck. He tilts his head with a tremulous sigh, allowing you better access to his fair skin.
"I really did miss you, you know," he says quietly, stroking you to full mast. "Your smile, your body next to mine when I wake up... and this cock. Nothing's better than your cock."
With a chuckle, you squeeze his hips, feeling them twitch under your grip. Cute – sensitive. "Yeah? My pretty doll missed my cock?"
"Mhm. Tried other things while you were away." He shuffles off your lap, sliding between your knees with ease. He gazes up at you, one hand on your thigh and one hand on your cock, and licks his lips, glancing away. His cheeks are red. "But nothing can get me off like you can. You always fill me up so good, always treat me right..."
He leans forward, wrapping his pink lips around the head of your cock. His eyes flutter shut and his tongue swirls around your slit – the taste of your precome curls a ball of arousal in his lower belly, and he widens his knees slightly in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure. It doesn't help.
"Fuck, Satoru," you murmur, combing your fingers through his silver hair. His blindfold acts as a headband for his bangs, and you're afforded a full view of his creased concentrated brows and his wide-blown pupils. He bobs his head, thick lashes fluttering against his cheekbones, and swallows several inches of your cock.
But that's as far as he gets before he gags and pulls back, gasping wetly as his pale chest heaves. Nervously, he glances up at you, only to grow more desperate at the lazy grin on your face.
You prop your cheek on a fist. "What was that about improvement, Satoru? Seems about the same to me."
His frown deepens. "It's not my fault! You're just—"
"Excuses don't befit you."
His jaw snaps shut audibly. He reaches forward, taking your cock in both hands, and spits on it, smearing it down your length. You hum softly as he takes the tip into his hot mouth again, and his tongue flicks against the glans hungrily.
His nails dig into your thigh as he regulates his breathing, slowly bobbing his head down half of your length.
You have to hand it to him – he's gotten quicker at getting to this point. Still, he's shuddering, and he's clearly a mess, eyes glistening and lips slick with saliva. He looks small, shoulders pulled in, and so, so pretty as he chokes down your cock, determined to do it right.
"Oh, Satoru," you purr sympathetically, petting his hair. "Nearly thirty and you still can't suck cock to save your life... what'll I do with you?"
He pulls back with a slick pop, eyes wide and glossy. His voice is hoarse. "N-No, I can! I can, I promise, j-just let me try again—"
"You're my good boy, aren't you?"
The words die in his mouth. Head foggy, he nods, throat bobbing as he stares up at you.
You stroke his cheek, smiling softly as he leans into it and kisses your palm. "Let me fuck your mouth. Maybe your toys are just too small to be of any real help, huh?"
Ashamed, Satoru swallows, picking at his shirt cuffs. He inclines his head a few degrees, barely a nod, but he allows you to gently guide his mouth around your cock once more. He wanted to show you how much he loved you, how you wouldn't have to do all the work anymore, but there was something so addicting about the way you controlled his body that he was a little glad to have failed. His eyes slide closed as you grip the back of his neck and hold back his bangs, guiding your cock down his throat.
He moans softly, his own dick throbbing inside his pants as you hit the back of his throat. He swallows around it dutifully, grasping your thighs for balance as you pull him down on your cock.
"Good boy. That's it. Such a good boy f'me." Your voice is a low murmur, flowing in one ear and out the other. Satoru whines quietly, the vibrations making you groan, and saliva drips down your shaft. You lean back and lift your hips slightly, pushing into his mouth.
He gags slightly but settles quickly, tongue gliding against the velvety veins of your dick. Your grip on him is firm but gentle – if you let go, he'd slump like a ragdoll against your leg, no doubt about it. He rocks his hips pathetically against nothing, whimpering as you fuck his throat, and you take pity – you shift your leg between his knees.
He fists your jeans, knuckles white, and moans as he grinds against your leg, his cock throbbing against his zipper. His whimpers sound broken, choppy, in a way you recognise as gratefulness. Thank you, thank you. Your dick pulses and he swallows, drooling and panting with his lips stretched white around you. He swallows greedily around you, the shape of your cock distending his slender throat.
"It's okay," you hum, brushing the tears from the corner of his eye. "You don't need to do anything. Not when I'm here. You just need to be my pretty puppy, yeah? Let me take care of everything. I got you."
A rough shudder runs through his body. He shoves his cock against your leg. He twitches, hips jerking involuntarily, and you can't help the fondness in your voice when you coo at him.
"Oh, sweetheart..."
Carefully, you pull him off of you, and his tongue lolls out of his mouth as he pants, eyes clouded and hazy. His grasp on your leg tightens as you lean forward, placing a soft kiss on his forehead.
"Poor thing. Must be pretty pent up, huh?" You pull him up, and it takes a moment for him to find his balance. You tug his slacks down his hips, but the square something in his back pocket gives you pause. You dip two fingers inside and pull out a black packet.
"Condoms?" You glance up at Satoru, who looks anywhere but at you. "You planned this, didn't you? Dirty puppy."
He wrings his hands, finding his voice. "I-I'm sorry... I just – it's our anniversary, 'n' I thought—"
"You thought you'd be cute," you finish for him, and he nods with a soft pout. You reach in again and pull out another. And another. It's a row of them, separated by perforated tear lines, and his face grows red as you lift a disbelieving brow at them. You let the string of them hang from your fingers like a grocery receipt.
"Satoru... How many of these do you think we need?"
"I don't know! I'd rather be safe than sorry."
You chuckle and lean forward, pressing a kiss against his stomach. He cups the back of your head, slender fingers playing with your hair absently. "You're too cute. Wanna put one on for me?"
"You just like it when I touch you," he mumbles, but accepts the little square. He kicks off his slacks and underwear and takes a seat on your lap, tearing the packet open with his teeth at the same time. His eyes flick up to yours as he slides it down your shaft, his hands warm and pretty wrapped around you. He squeezes – you groan softly – and he whispers, "All done."
"Thank you, baby." You stroke his hips. He giggles in response.
"You can put it in," he murmurs, squeezing your shoulders as he leans forward and aligns your tip with his entrance. "I... Last night..."
"Hm." You watch him rub the tip against his hole – psyching himself up for it, you realise with a smile. "Was that before or after our call?"
His grip tightens. "Ah... After."
"Yeah?" Your smile takes on a dangerous edge and he gulps. "So, when you said you missed me..."
"S-Stop teasing me," he demands, his voice lilting with a whine. His brow furrows and he lowers himself on your cock, gasping as the head breaches his hole. The lube makes the glide easier, but the delicious burn of the stretch has his eyes fluttering and rolling back. The warmth... he's missed this. A toy couldn't have him shaking on his knees on the first thrust. Pain makes tears prick at his eyes. "Ohh, god..."
Satoru braces both hands against your shoulders, his toes curling in his black socks. He whimpers softly as you lean forward, pressing your chests together, in order to ease your cock deeper inside him. He rocks his hips, shallow and jagged, and presses his lips fervently to yours as he drops his hips and takes you all the way down to the base.
Tears prick at his eyes and he moans, long and loose and relieved. Your cock rests perfectly against his prostate, hot and thick, and every minuscule shift of his body has you rubbing deliciously against it. His cock throbs, dusky against his alabaster skin. His stomach flexes.
"Good?" you whisper, hot breath fanning against his throat. He shudders and nods, reaching back and spreading his asscheeks to swallow you deeper. His head falls to your shoulder as he lifts and lowers his hips messily, lips parted to gasp and pant softly.
You take over, hands big and rough on the creamy meat of his ass. There are new calluses on your palms, and a shard of annoyance cuts its way into the pleasured fog of Satoru's mind. Trying to appoint you clan leader through marriage – and therefore safe from the nuisance of arduous missions – had backfired fantastically, and now all those old coots know how much you mean to him.
Like, what was the point of marrying you to each other if you both still had to do the dirty work? Why couldn't he, as the strongest and least likely to complete the paperwork, simply come home to your kisses? You might hate him for making you do all the accounting and logistical work, but at least you'd be safe. He's very good at shoulder massages. The occasional assassin would be like swatting a fly to you.
"Sweetheart," you croon, snapping him out of his stewing displeasure. You grasp his chin in your hand and turn his face to yours, pressing a light kiss to the tip of his nose. He hums softly. "What's wrong?"
"I want you to be here every day," he whispers, pressing his cheek against yours. "Don't wanna have to make up for lost time like this. Drives me crazy."
"Oh, puppy... I know. But hey," you say, thrusting up into him and making him gasp, "you're hot when you're needy. And I'm all too willing to indulge you."
He clenches down around you. His cock twitches. "Mm, really? We could try using up all those condoms..."
You roll your eyes. "You're incorrigible."
"What does that – ah!"
He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as you thrust up roughly into him and drag him down at the same time, his ass slapping your hips. He scrambles to brace himself, his cock dripping a weak spurt of precome on his stomach. His chest heaves, his face flushed and his eyes wide. His eyes are blown with lust, deep ocean-blue, and his lip quivers as you repeat it, fucking up into his soft, eager little hole hungrily.
Satoru pants, breaths rough and uneven, as he tries his best to ride your cock. But with every thrust, you slam against his prostate and knock the thoughts out of his skull. He stutters and moans, trying to repeat himself – because really, what do you mean he's incorrigible? – but you've got a wicked grin on your face that spells nothing but trouble for him.
"W-Wait," he squeaks out, arms trembling as he tries to hold himself up on your chest. "I'll—!"
"Come for me," you grunt, rolling his hips on your cock in a way that has his vision blooming with stars. "Lemme see you, Satoru. Let me see you, puppy."
He lets out a loud, sharp whine as his body jerks and his cock spurts, painting your stomach with thick ropes of white. The flush of his cheeks extends down his neck and chest, prettily pink, and he collapses against your chest, lazily rolling his hips and riding out his high.
Cooing his name softly, you pet his hair, which he melts into like pudding. His hum is like a purr when your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. "Good boy... so gorgeous when you come, aren't you? Did so well for me, sweetheart."
You begin to tug his blindfold down, as the rapid flickering of his eyes betrays how overwhelmed he is, but he shakes his head, nudging your hand to instead pull it off.
"No," he whines, raising his bright, flitting eyes to your face. They steady when they focus on your face, and his features soften. "Wanna see you. All of you." He exhales, a little shaky. "You still haven't finished."
"It'll be too much for you. Let's stop here."
He scowls. "How do you know that?"
"I—"
"Yeah, that's right. You don't. I can keep going." He lifts himself up on his knees until just the tip rests inside him, then drops back down. He swallows a whimper. "S-See? M'fine!"
Your brow furrows slightly as you hold him still. "Satoru—"
"Please," he interrupts, eyes wide and pleading. "Baby, please, I can do it. Want you to come, too, okay? I want to – because I love you."
You didn't think sudden love confessions in the middle of sex could be so hot.
A breathless grin makes its way across his lips when you glance away and sigh, your hands tightening on his waist. It's the perfect place to grab, slim and fitting just right against your palms. He places his hand against your stomach between his legs, arching his back ever so slightly.
"Well," you drawl, shifting slightly. His breath hitches as your cock brushes his prostate. "Then maybe you could show me how much you love me."
"You—" He lets out a bitten moan as you move his hips, helping him grind against you. "Baby."
In response, you only offer a smirk, eyes glinting.
He sighs shakily and nods, leaning back and bracing against your knees. The position tightens him up and you groan, head tipping back against the couch backrest. He traces shallow ovals over your lap, his hole fluttering against you with every tug.
"Feeling unsteady, puppy?" you remark, but it's softer than your usual teasing. You trace his ribs, thumbs brushing over his nipples. He whimpers.
"No," he breathes, quickening his pace. His half-hard cock smacks his stomach with every harsh drop of his hips, the reddened tip dripping and slick. "I got it."
It's hard to act as if the sight doesn't affect you. His lean muscles flex with every shift, and as he sucks in a shuddering breath, a bulge pokes his belly. The print of it appears and disappears with each roll of his hips.
"Fuck," you hiss, gliding your hand down and pressing a thumb against it. Satoru twitches and stutters at the sight, letting out a ruined cry when words fail him. His breath grows ragged as he rides you harder, eyes wet with need. The bulge in his tummy moves with him.
His white hair is dark silver at the ends, stuck to his temples. A thin sheen of sweat coats his body, shimmering when it catches the light. With his milky skin, it's as if he's been brushed with crushed pearls.
You reach up and brush a thumb against his bitten lower lip, plush and warm. He parts them and presses his tongue against the pad of your thumb, moaning as you push it in. He grabs your wrist, nails digging into your skin, and lavishes wet kisses upon it. His tongue swirls around your thumb as if it was your cock and he pants hotly, lips pursing ever-so-slightly around it.
Your cock throbs inside him. The beginnings of a smug grin tug at his pillowy lips, and his eyes flash confidently. They falter and roll back into his skull as you bury your cock inside him with a rough thrust – he melts into your touch, his pretty little cock pulsing and dripping precome down his shaft and balls.
"You're so good to me," you chuckle throatily, pushing your thumb deeper into his mouth. He moans sharply. The whiplash between your warm, caressing palm and the violence with which you fuck him makes him downright dizzy. "Maybe I should take long business trips more often."
At that, he lets out a wrecked little sob, shaking his head. He leans deeper into you.
"No?" He shakes his head again, cerulean eyes clouded and unfocussed as you force his hips up and down from tip to base, knocking the breath out of his lungs. "Oh, sweet thing..."
His legs quiver. He's barely holding himself up, his sensitive hole aching with the sharp burn each time you pull out. You press his face into the crook of your neck and he mewls as you tug his arms behind his back, your hands strong and firm. He feels powerless like this, buried in the scent of your sweat and cologne, and all he can do is moan.
He stiffens when something snaps around his wrists. He arches back, trying to spot it. "What—?"
"Sh-shh, puppy. You're too antsy. Gotta learn to take it slow." You smooth out his blindfold, twisted several times around his slim wrists. You glance down at him, your hair tickling his cheek. "Don't you?"
It feels like he's breathing soup. His heart hammers and he clenches around you, knees and feet scrabbling for purchase against the couch without the use of his arms. He whimpers, tugging at the bindings. His fingers flex. "Y-Yes, sir..."
"Good boy."
And god, do you take it slow. He's a mess in minutes, teary-eyed and trembling, as you use him like a toy, lifting and lowering him on your cock, which feels all too big and thick in his swollen, abused hole. He swears he can taste it. He babbles, his sudden orgasm going totally ignored even as he sobs and calls you everything under the sun ranging from his usual pet-names to your title. You ignore him, focussing on keeping your thrusts steady and even.
"Sir," he gasps wetly as his aching cock twitches valiantly. "Sir."
"Yes, puppy?"
His brain is melting out of his ears. Hot tears streak down his flushed cheeks, wetting your shoulder. It's humiliating, being trapped like this on your cock, and he can't help the new ball of arousal swirling low in his belly.
"Too deep..." He lets out a wet whimper as his cock begins to harden again. Oh, stamina. "P-Please – come already..."
"I'm trying pretty hard." You hum, rolling him in your hands like a scientist with their pet project. You sigh as if disappointed. "You're all loose – like a whore."
Choking out a devastated moan, he shuffles on his knees, walls squeezing and swallowing your cock with renewed vigour. "Sir, I'm – 'm not—"
"Please, Satoru. You already admitted to touching yourself while I was away – you couldn't wait just a few weeks for me to come home. If you were good, you would've kept your hands to yourself. You forget who this—" you lift his hips and tap his asshole, making him clench and whine "—belongs to."
Few weeks? Few weeks? Satoru wants to cry. It isn't his fault his love language is physical touch. Going cold turkey for so long was agonising.
"'M sorry," he whispers, eyes squeezing shut as you dance your fingers over his swollen cock. "O-Oh...!"
You huff, shifting on the couch. You hold him up, his delicate hipbones slotted into the V of your thumb and forefinger. "I know you are, but I'll remind you anyway. You belong to me."
You set a punishing pace, fucking up into him and dragging him down to meet your thrusts. His hair bounces and he cries out, arms flexing against the blindfold. His eyes roll back and he moans, open-mouthed, against your neck, broken little half-sobs punched out of his throat.
He can't get a single full word out. Even his cracked, ruined 'fuck, fuck, fuck' is peppered with whines.
Then your hand comes down, hard, on his ass.
His eyes widen. His mouth opens in a silent scream. He comes.
You groan as thin streaks of come splatter your stomach, his cock rutting against you through it. His hips jerk and he starts to sob openly when your pace only quickens, his ass rippling with each thrust. "Fuck, sir," he wails, "y'feel so good...!"
You massage his stinging cheek, whispering sweet nothings in his ear that float him away into a soft cloud of thoughtlessness. It's so easy to give up control to you – so easy to hand himself over. If he has nothing else to give, you will have him.
Even through the fog of pleasure, he remembers how to kiss you. He would know how even if he lost every memory. He moans into it, raspy and wrecked. His toes curl and bliss weighs down his bones as you groan his name and thrust up once, twice, into him, cock throbbing hotly against his soft, gummy walls. Finally, you sink into the couch, holding him close.
He lays there, slumped against you, as you catch your breath together. His eyes flutter shut, the image of your face as you come seared into his mind, and he giggles drunkenly to himself.
You were so good to him even when you were mean.
Gently, you ease his blindfold off his wrists, and he immediately wraps his arms around your shoulders protectively. You're his, and his only. He sits quietly as you clean up to the best of your ability with him on top of you, and he whines softly when you try to set him aside.
"Satoru," you try.
"I'm sore," he retorts, feeling your chest rise and fall with your breaths. His voice is deliciously ragged and raspy. "Fix me."
"No."
"Then I'm staying right here."
"The house will burn down."
"Let it."
Incorrigible. You sigh and lift him just enough to do up your zipper, then lift him in a princess carry and rise to your feet. Satoru purrs and clutches you tighter, rubbing his cheek into your shoulder as you carry him through the house. "Let's find you some new pants, sweetheart."
"M'kay."
"After that, you're on your own," you warn him, stepping sideways through the bedroom door. He uses it as an excuse to tuck his head in the crook of your neck. "I need to check on the soup. I'll call for you when dinner's ready."
"Mm..." He gazes up at you with a sugar-soft look in his eyes. He rubs his hazy eyes as you set him down on the bed to open up his extensive wardrobe. "But I need to set the table..."
"I'll do it. You just take care of clean-up, yeah?"
"Mhm." Satoru tugs the open sides of his button-up shirt closed and fixes the long hem over his milky thighs. He sighs softly, watching you gather his pyjamas with soft blue eyes. "It's really good to have you home, you know. Everything's back to normal."
"Is that right?" Your voice softens and you cross the room, ducking down to Satoru's level. Expectantly, he lifts his face, closing his eyes, and smiles as you brush back his bangs and press your lips to his forehead. "Then you better make sure to spoil me rotten."
He catches your hand before you can pull away. With a teasing, bitten-back grin, he lowers it, and tugs his shirt hem up. He places your hand on his thigh, dragging it higher.
"Like this?" he whispers, coy when he flutters his lashes at you.
Your fingers dig into the soft, sensitive meat of his thigh. He mewls softly, plush pink lips parting.
You tear your hand away, drawing in a sharp breath. "Fuck. Later. Soup first."
Satoru huffs and rolls his eyes, leaning back on his palms when you scramble out the door. "Stupid soup," he mumbles to himself petulantly. "Why would he eat anything else when I'm right here? Stupid noodles. Stupid husband."
A voice breaks through the silence from down the hall. "I heard that!"
"Good!" He collects the clothes you'd picked out for him, smoothing his fingers down the soft cotton patterns. "I ain't a liar!"
He mumbles a radio song under his breath as he tosses away the plain black boxer shorts into the wardrobe. A sly smirk flickers across his features as he pulls out a pair of baby-blue panties from a drawer, placed right at the front and tucked into a neat little square. It's a pretty thing, lacey and soft, and it sits nice and high on him, accentuating his slender hips. They make his legs go on for ages.
He tucks it into his stack of clothes with an innocent hum, and then off he goes, prancing into the bathroom with an extra pep in his step. He doesn't lock the door behind him.
Satoru understands that you enjoy taking care of him, pampering him like a princess even when he pulls your hair and takes your toys. You always will. It's a wonderful thing, to be loved so sweetly; no one else could do it better.
He needs to return the favour, he thinks, glancing at his clothes and the little secret they hide. Nothing feels like it could ever measure up to what you do for him, but he can do this, and it's a start. Perhaps it'll get him closer to being your equal.
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randomshyperson · 5 months ago
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One Of Your Girls - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots
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summary: A study session turns into a make out session. Or the one where the most beautiful girl on campus is your situationship and you would never refuse to distract her, even during exam weeks.
words: 3.820k | warnings: (+18), college au, fuck buddies, popular!wanda x loser!reader, mostly smut but there’s actually some plot here, bottom!wanda (we need way more of this sorry), oral, fingering, some dirty talk, reader is briefly described to be shy and introverted because of the loser archetype, w and r are actually super comfortable with each other don’t be fooled, text messages are in bold cause i never tried that before.
A/N-> I have written more than 100 works for wanda, but I don’t remember ever writing casual sex before. To be a demisexual is really something, huh? Anyways, this was actually based on “One of Your Girls” from Troye Sivan, but around the middle I just started doing my own thing honestly. Good reading!
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Song-Based Collection
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To inspire students to have sharper minds, as she likes to say, Miss Harkness is known for having the hardest tests on the entire campus. This means that you needed to study seriously for next week's exam, without quick readings or breaks to watch the television or talk about anything other than Applied Sociology with your friends.
And definitely, no 'study' sessions with Wanda Maximoff.
You shouldn't even think about Wanda, and her emerald eyes and bold hands. You need to think about Émile Durkheim or Max Weber, and any other sociologist from past centuries, with their difficult theories from which long and complicated questions will be in your exam.
But Wanda and the casual thing you two have is like clockwork. You had barely made up your mind about keeping your distance, and prepared a proper study session in your dorm - empty that afternoon due to a divine miracle that occupied Natasha and her girlfriend Maria all day - for your cell phone to vibrate with the notification from the person you had decided to ignore.
Stealing a glance at the contact name, you grunted quietly and turned your attention back to the book that had just finished reading the first page.
Focus.
Another vibration makes you roll your eyes.
Wanda didn't do anything wrong, maybe you could just say you’re busy.
"I am bored."
Her text makes you laugh through your nose. Typing quickly, you don't expect a return to your "And I’m busy. Talk to u later."
Your cell phone vibrates again, but you stand firm. Sociology will not study itself. There's a shift of pages, and you taste some of the mint tea from the mug on the table before your cell phone rings again.
Maybe it's someone else. It may be important.
You can’t even fool yourself.
The book is placed on your lap, and you unlock the screen for a photo that brings a warm color to your ears and spreads around your body as quickly as this whole thing began.
"What if I was in public?." You type with a certain harshness, which doesn't match the way your heart missed a beat. Or how you've completely forgotten about the book now, and all you can do is bite back a sigh at the image of the prettiest nipples in this galaxy.
Wanda responds in the same second, and you want to ignore the way your stomach twists at the thought of her feeling eager for a response from you.
"Kinky."
You laugh, rolling your eyes. "You're the worst" That's what you type. You end up sighing when looking at the pile of books around. Wanda only needed one stupid photo to completely take your focus away.
She types before you can tell her off for it. "Are you in your dorm? Wanna see you."
You bite your lip. She is so infuriating.
"I have to study."
You can almost hear her giggling on the other end. "Don't you always?"
You think about cursing at her teasing, but you don't want to cross any lines. It's true that this relationship is a constant push and pull, but Wanda isn't clingy for no reason. You're about to ask if something happened when she adds "Are you really gonna force me to send another photo..."
You swallow hard. "I'm not forcing you to do anything. I was innocently studying until now.”
It takes her a moment, but finally, there's another photo. With your fingers shaking, you forget to breathe at the image of her thighs, a red garter belt in contrast to the pale skin, barely covered by her mini-skirt. It was such a simple image yet so provocative, Wanda truly had talent.
"Fuck me." You sigh quietly, unable to type anything back for a moment.
And so she does it first. "Did I melt your brain?"
“Please come here.” You begged, only imagining her smirk on the other line.
Wanda typed back a second later; “I thought you were studying. I wouldn't want to distract you.”
You huckle incredulously at her cynicism, and almost type back a curse but end up deciding to get up instead, hurrying to make the room less messy for your guest.
Wanda takes a while to show up at your room - Unlike you, she lives on the other side of campus, in an apartment shared with her brother. The outfit she's wearing is definitely more impressive in person, and you have to control yourself not to feel jealous at the realization that a good part of the university has just seen her parading around looking so stunning. This was definitely Yelena's doing, the one responsible for trying out everything she learned in her course on her friends and successfully dressing the whole group like supermodels.
Sometimes you wish you were more sociable, at least to be friends with Yelena and get new clothes.
Not that you have any idea of ​​this, but Wanda did a great job of hiding the way her stomach did two flips when she saw how comfy you looked, the dark green sweatshirt covering your shorts making her immediately think about exploring underneath.
"What's up, loser?"
Wanda had this problem. High defense barriers, almost all the time, but especially when she was feeling things that were out of her control. Like the way her heart raced in your presence, or how she was starting to run out of decent excuses to meet you without admitting the only reason was simply because she wanted to spend some time together.
When you first talked, freshman year, she was the most intimidating person on campus (she still is), but with a little insistence (or friends playing cupid) you had managed to see sides of her that no one else had seen. And vice versa.
It was a pretty interesting dynamic, the most popular girl on campus and a big nerd with social anxiety were somehow dating. Wanda dragged you to parties whenever possible, a possessive hand on yours and a threatening look at any idiot who thought of giving you a hard time. And often you end up in some drunken Instagram live or records of friends making out in the background.
When you weren’t doing the things she liked, Wanda would just show up. After your classes, in the study hall, during your break from your internship, and in your dorm. She didn’t mind showing you off, but there was something so soft about spending time alone. When her defenses were down, the mean girl mask would fall and she would laugh at your stupid jokes, or dress up in your clothes to make pancakes in the middle of the night.
It wasn’t an official relationship, but it was something really closer to one. Something that gave her free rein to come and go as she pleased from your life, and mess everything around as she went.
You made room for her to enter, and she gave a long kiss to your cheek before leaving her shoes at the entrance. You were blushing when you closed the door.
The dorm you shared with Natasha had little more than the space needed for two beds and two desks, but somehow you and her managed to squeeze in enough decorations on the walls and even some of her ballet and fighting awards. Your side was covered in band and movie posters and science holiday medals. A barely used keyboard sat dusty in the corner, and you had made a mental note to show Wanda how to play Over the Rainbow sometime. She tossed her backpack on the corner of your desk, and you hurried to try to clear up some of the clutter on the wood, blushing even more when she chuckled. 
“Come here.” She asked softly, and you swallowed hard as you stumbled closer to her again, guided by her hands holding your wrists. Wanda actually wanted your arms around her, and that’s where she put them. So her hands went up to your shoulders. “You always get so shy when we’re alone.” 
“I am shy.” 
She shakes her head slightly.  “That’s not true,” she says, leaning in close to brush her lips against yours. You gasp slightly, and Wanda pulls away, teasing. "You're an introvert, but no one shy says the things you say when you're turned on, darling"
Yochuckle, shaking your head with pink cheeks. "Shut up." 
She bites back a smile, and leans in, but the kiss is too short, it's so unfair. You try to chase her mouth, but Wanda pulls away to hug you. And that surprises you as much as her breathing deeply into your neck. 
You don't remember hugging her before. Not really. There's plenty of sex of course, and making out and pillow talk and late-night snacks. But Wanda isn't the type to cuddle, or hug. It gives what you two have an intimacy that you understand she doesn't want to have, or didn’t, past tense. 
Your hand caresses your back, and you're not quite sure if you should say anything but finally you do; "Is everything okay?"
It's like throwing a bucket of cold, reality-filled water over her. She breaks the hug, forcing a laugh that doesn't convince you at all.
"Of course!" She says, pulling you close at once and giving you a kiss that's much more determined than before. That almost makes you forget where you were, almost. "Let's take these off." She pulls the folds of your sweater up, but even though you let her, you risk:
"Wanda, are you sure-"
She cuts you off again, this time kissing you with tongue. It's definitely hotter, and it elicits a breathless moan from you. Her hand holds your face, controlling the kiss until you whimper against her mouth. Wanda lets you breathe as she pushes you by the shoulders to the bed, and you fall sitting, facing her.
"I said take your clothes off." She repeats, but it's her who puts on a little show. She pulls off her blouse at once, and the exposure of her breasts covered only by a red lace bra leaves you mesmerized. Wanda giggles at your reaction. “Every damn time.” She teases, her hands moving to undo it. But you move suddenly, grabbing her hips and pulling her onto your lap in urgency. Wanda gasps in surprise at the heated kiss, losing herself in the task of removing her bra as you start to suck on her tongue. With one hand on your shoulder for support, the other ruffles your hair before she feels her bra loosen on her body, not having even noticed your hands working on the clasp until now. She bites her bottom lip as she feels the item being pulled away from her body. 
“You’re getting better at this.” She teases again. You look at her with lust-bright eyes but also with a frown.
“Better? When have I ever been bad at this? Certainly not with you, because you came three times on your first time together.” 
Wanda raises an eyebrow at you, her hips grinding slowly against your lap. “Like I said, not shy at all.” You roll your eyes, gripping her hips a little more firmly to guide her movements. It's Wanda who chases your mouth again, returning with equal fervor every kiss you give her.
Your hands let go of her hips to slide down her thighs, until finally touching the garter belt. You break the kiss with an affected groan, and Wanda takes the opportunity to catch her breath a little. If the image of her swollen lips and dilated pupils wasn't enough to drive you crazy, looking down did. Her skirt was wrinkled up, and the red garter belt was truly a sight. A damp spot was now visible on your pants from all her grinding, and you would have time to feel proud of making her so aroused with just kisses later.
As you pulled the garters and made them slap gently against Wanda's skin, you smiled when she shivered, a breathy moan escaping her mouth. It was such a beautiful thing, turning all her bad girl attitude into a pathetic mess of whimpering.
But suddenly you remembered that she had walked across half the campus wearing this, so your clenched jaw had another reason.
"Did you get dressed up for me?"
Wanda gave a short laugh, not really understanding what you were saying. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
You glared at her, your hands giving another warning tug, and Wanda wanted to hate the way her body twitched, but she couldn't help it.
"If not me, who?"
She blinked in confusion, deep in her own lust. 
Why were you still talking when she was literally dripping on your lap?
"What are you-" She fell silent when you grabbed her throat, your grip making her thrust her hips in desperation for friction, her mouth opening in a needy moan. Her own reaction surprised her, and Wanda would have tried to work things out if you hadn't taken away her ability to respond when you kissed her again, dirty and hard until she started whimpering on your tongue again. When you pulled apart again, your fingers invaded her mouth and Wanda's eyes widened, realizing that this might be the first time she'd come without even being properly touched.
You seemed to have noticed the same thing, a chuckle escaping you as she began sucking on your fingers with the same fervor she was trying to grind into your lap.
"Tsk, look at you, Wanda." You began, your hand moving from her throat down to her garter belt, to pull it off again. "You really want me to believe anyone else can turn you into this needy mess?" Flushed with arousal, Wanda still manages to frown in confusion. Anyone else. What the hell are you talking about? There’s no one else.
But suddenly, you remove your fingers from her mouth, and when she tries to ask, it's too late. Your soaked fingers have moved down and they fill her without warning, sinking inside her and eliciting a throaty moan that makes her head fall forward, forehead to yours, and nails digging into your shoulders. You laugh hoarsely. "Fuck, you're so wet, Wands."
The dirty sound of your fingers moving inside her echoes in the room along with her breathless moans, but you don't prolong things for too long. There’s an urgency and roughness to your movements that makes Wanda roll her eyes back and bounce on your fingers in animalistic desperation.
“Oh, baby, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—” It’s always such a beautiful sight. She arches on top of you, spasming as her climax hits her and spreads hot waves of pleasure. Your hand is soaked, but you pull your fingers away to lick them one by one as Wanda tries to get back into orbit.
When she finally does, it's rewarding. It's your turn to have your throat grabbed, and Wanda presses forward until you're lying on the bed, at her mercy, even as a smile plays on your lips.
It's time for her to shake that smugness off your face.
"You're overdressed." It comes in a warning tone, and her hands go down to remove your clothes, one by one. You help her, between one kiss and another, a touch and a squeeze, until finally, Wanda ends up on your lap again, this time, with no fabric between you other than the beautiful lingerie she picked out for you.
Oh, of course she lets you know.
"I don't want you to get any more cocky than you already are." She began between the countless breathless kisses you were exchanging, minutes on end in this hot make-out session. "But all I could think about when I bought it was how you were going to look at me." She takes advantage of your gasp in surprise to bite your lip and pull, making you tremble. With a smug little smile, Wanda looks at you with darkened eyes. "And how were you going to take it off."
Your hands move of their own accord - There's a hard tug to pull her against you, and you end up rolling around on the bed, until Wanda ends up underneath, writhing at your touch. Your fingers slipped under the belt again, but now you take your time to remove the item, slowly until Wanda couldn't hold her breath any longer.
Stealing a glance at her dripping pussy that she displayed so proudly on her parted legs, you clicked your tongue again before finding your space in her middle, your hands fitting behind her thighs.
"You spoil me, you know?" You whisper, feeling her fit her ankles into your back, an impatient whimper escaping her. You were so close to where she wanted, needed, but still not giving her what she was begging for. "I don't know what I did to deserve such a sweet gift."
Wanda tries to play along, she really does. But you give her a tentative lick, and another, and all that escapes her are shaky moans, as one hand grips your hair, the other seeks support in the sheets. Something she can pull at will without hurting.
She feels hot in all the right places, and she wants to police herself for how addicted she is becoming to the feeling of having you like this, but it's impossible to think about that right now. With you eating her so well and making her forget all her problems.
You hum suddenly, satisfied at the taste, and at the vibration, Wanda loses it. There's a loud whimper escaping her throat as she arches against you, begging for more, but you hold her in place, your own hips grinding against the bed as Wanda starts to sound desperate for your tongue to go deeper.
When you risk teasing her again, shallow tongue strokes that leave her dizzy and shaking, Wanda loses her patience. She curses under her breath, and grabs your hair with determination, managing a satisfied grunt from you before she forces your face against her pussy. Not caring if she’s hurting you or suffocating you, Wanda chases her high with near desperation. She grinds her hips against your face, and locks her legs behind your back, using you until she comes.
She sounds so hot when it finally happens. Your name drips from her tongue as she drips into your mouth. It’s so strong that her body instantly goes weak, her legs shaking around you. You chuckle against her thigh, taking great satisfaction in leaving her like this.
Still catching her breath, she calls out. “Come here, asshole.”
You think she wanted a kiss, maybe another orgasm. But Wanda just adjusts you to her side, so she can rest against you. This is new too, spooning. It's the kind of thing casual encounters shouldn't do.
Of course she notices how tense you've become, and it only takes the moment for her to stop shaking for Wanda to look up, her chin resting on your chest.
"You don't have to overthink everything."
A nervous laugh escapes you. "I wasn’t."
Wanda makes a small grimace of unconvincedness. "I know you were. It's what you do. It's one of the things that makes you, you." She says, and it takes you a little by surprise. She sighs then, and looks away, resting her face against your chest again. You almost think she's not going to say anything else when she continues. "It's good that you think of all the possibilities. That way I'll never be able to disappoint you, you'll always see it coming."
You frown, absorbing her words in silence for a moment. Wanda begins to draw patterns on your stomach that look like her initials, until you sigh.
"I know we haven't named it what’s between us, but whatever it is, you can always tell me what's bothering you." You let her know quietly, your fingers playing through the strands of her hair. "And we can just talk, you know? It doesn't always have to end in sex. You don't have to get a new lingerie as an excuse to see me. No matter how hot you look on it."
She pinches you for the joke, but she’s smiling when she looks back at you.
“You’re not good at the whole casual sex thing, are you?” She teases, but she’s genuinely so happy with your previous words that she just can’t hide it.
You smile, watching her hover closer and closer. “You think? Because I think I’m doing pretty well at this, miss-Oh, baby, I’m gonna come,”
You do an imitation that makes Wanda's eyes widen and she blushes deeply while she huffs in embarrassment. You burst out laughing when she tries to cover your mouth and stop the teasing, and it ends up turning into a small fight of hands and tickles until Wanda ends up underneath again, now with her hands pinned on either side of her head.
There is an exchange of glances between the two of you, and you are smiling just like her.
You know that today, Wanda will not tell you what bothered her, what brought her here. She is right, however, you’re an overthinker and already have a hundred possibilities for what could have brought her there, and considering that you know from her friends how much she has been fighting with her father in the last few weeks, it is not hard to assume it is related to that.
But Wanda returns the intensity of your gaze, and you know that something between you has changed. She will tell you when she is ready.
Your grip on one of her hands loosens, and Wanda uses the opportunity to touch your cheek.
"What are you thinking about?"
You sigh, and she can tell. Her heart misses a beat, and she considers if she’s ready for a confession. If it would scare her or make her so happy, she would freeze. Maybe both. 
But you grimace a little, and smirk, and Wanda feels silly for even considering.
"I'm definitely going to fail Miss Harkness's class this semester."
Wanda frowns and then bursts out laughing, confused and incredulous.
"What?" She asks between laughs. “Why would you be thinking about this now? With a naked girl in your bed, you nerd!”
You giggle at her words, your free hand fitting on her waist as you wait for her to stop chuckling. "I don't know why you're laughing, this is your fault. You ruined all my study sessions with your... distracting presence."
She rolls her eyes in a playful manner. “"Well, I could always just leave-"
You grip her waist tighter, holding her in place. "Nah, who cares about classes anyway? Come here."
Wanda will definitely help you study, she makes a mental promise. But she will kiss you first just a little longer.
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porcupine-girl · 2 years ago
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An important message to college students: Why you shouldn't use ChatGPT or other "AI" to write papers.
Here's the thing: Unlike plagiarism, where I can always find the exact source a student used, it's difficult to impossible to prove that a student used ChatGPT to write their paper. Which means I have to grade it as though the student wrote it.
So if your professor can't prove it, why shouldn't you use it?
Well, first off, it doesn't write good papers. Grading them as if the student did write it themself, so far I've given GPT-enhanced papers two Ds and an F.
If you're unlucky enough to get a professor like me, they've designed their assignments to be hard to plagiarize, which means they'll also be hard to get "AI" to write well. To get a good paper out of ChatGPT for my class, you'd have to write a prompt that's so long, with so many specifics, that you might as well just write the paper yourself.
ChatGPT absolutely loves to make broad, vague statements about, for example, what topics a book covers. Sadly for my students, I ask for specific examples from the book, and it's not so good at that. Nor is it good at explaining exactly why that example is connected to a concept from class. To get a good paper out of it, you'd have to have already identified the concepts you want to discuss and the relevant examples, and quite honestly if you can do that it'll be easier to write your own paper than to coax ChatGPT to write a decent paper.
The second reason you shouldn't do it?
IT WILL PUT YOUR PROFESSOR IN A REALLY FUCKING BAD MOOD. WHEN I'M IN A BAD MOOD I AM NOT GOING TO BE GENEROUS WITH MY GRADING.
I can't prove it's written by ChatGPT, but I can tell. It does not write like a college freshman. It writes like a professional copywriter churning out articles for a content farm. And much like a large language model, the more papers written by it I see, the better I get at identifying it, because it turns out there are certain phrases it really, really likes using.
Once I think you're using ChatGPT I will be extremely annoyed while I grade your paper. I will grade it as if you wrote it, but I will not grade it generously. I will not give you the benefit of the doubt if I'm not sure whether you understood a concept or not. I will not squint and try to understand how you thought two things are connected that I do not think are connected.
Moreover, I will continue to not feel generous when calculating your final grade for the class. Usually, if someone has been coming to class regularly all semester, turned things in on time, etc, then I might be willing to give them a tiny bit of help - round a 79.3% up to a B-, say. If you get a 79.3%, you will get your C+ and you'd better be thankful for it, because if you try to complain or claim you weren't using AI, I'll be letting the college's academic disciplinary committee decide what grade you should get.
Eventually my school will probably write actual guidelines for me to follow when I suspect use of AI, but for now, it's the wild west and it is in your best interest to avoid a showdown with me.
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lymtw · 1 year ago
Text
All Is Forgiven
Thinking of an argument with Toji that leaves you mute by choice towards him. He still talks to you and asks you questions, and while you don't turn away from him, you don't respond to him either. He ends up having to figure out whatever he needs on his own because after a minute or so you huff and walk away from the conversation.
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"Mama," Toji calls from the bedroom, rummaging through his clothing drawers. "Have you seen my gym shorts?"
If he was able to get a word out of you, he would know that you washed them for him. Though you were still sizzling with anger towards him, you pulled them out of the dryer and walked them over to the room. He could hear your little footsteps as you approached the room, and when he turned to look at you, he noticed you were holding his shorts in your hand.
Your eyes were vacant towards him. You didn't want them to be because it sucks when you can't look at him with the endless amount of love you have in store for him. It's still there, but it's being masked by a poker face.
You toss the shorts onto the bed and leave. Toji sighs, irked by the fact that it's actually starting to sting now. Your disregard for him because you're ruled by your emotions and he lets things go too easily because he can't hold a grudge towards you, even if he feels you're in the wrong.
Toji never knew how much he depended on your voice until you wouldn't let him hear it. He depends on you to tell him where things are because without you they would be scattered all over the place. He doesn't know your method of organization, but somehow when he needs something and looks to you in order to find it, you pull it out from right under his nose. He depends on you to tell him he's doing a good job, and to tell him you love him, and just reassure him in general. It makes him feel good to know that someone thinks he's good enough, but recently the one person who feeds him affection like it's as important as food and water, has left him to starve. You haven't said a word to him in almost two days, and he feels like he's starting to go crazy. The sound of his own voice is driving him insane. It's gotten so bad that he had to make a mental note of how he's going to get you back that same night.
Toji leaves for the gym and texts you during his time there. He includes some images because it's now an unspoken rule that he always has to send you gym pics.
[ Attachment: 3 Images]
... 😳🤐
Yeah, I know you like those. I'll be home soon.
You take the time to doll yourself up while he's still out. It's for him, but you won't tell him that until you come back from your "night out". Really, you're just gonna go get dinner for both of you from his favorite little restaurant. You just want to see how far he's willing to let this go, because you're caving. You're ready to apologize even when you know he's not upset at all. You're ready to spoil him in order to make up for those severe feelings you held towards him. You're ready to hear about how stubborn and unbelievable you are for this little act you pulled.
You spray on some perfume and walk out of the bathroom, just in time to catch Toji walking through the door.
"Woof, where're you going, ma?" He asks, setting down his gym bag before absorbing everything you were gracing him with. His eyes flit up and down your body, lingering on the very bare skin of the legs that come out from under your skirt. He can smell your perfume from where he stands, its elegant scent masking even the smell of his own potent sweat.
You didn't answer his question, and left him to wonder why you're all dressed up at seven o'clock at night. Was it a girl's night or were you openly showing him that you have options? Did he miss a message or a call from you?
You grabbed your wallet and scooted past him. You walked halfway down the corridor of your apartment building before realizing that maybe this was a bit much. You would make him worry over you going on a five minute walk to grab some food? All so you can show him you're mad? You cracked.
🥟🥡🍜.
Toji was staring at his screen, waiting for anything from you. The screen flashes like some sort of miracle and your message is seen by him. He chuckles, feeling a sense of relief wash over him at the sight of your little emoticons.
You came back home as fast as possible, bags of food in hand as you patiently waited for the elevator to bring you up to your floor. You took your time walking through the corridor, this time, not knowing how you would react once you saw Toji or if you would immediately say something to him. You're ready to talk to him, you want to talk to him. You miss him, you love him, and you hate the passiveness you threw yourself into around him as an act of retaliation.
There you were, standing in front of the door, nervous beyond belief for what was behind it. You collected yourself and twisted the doorknob, ready to face anything that came to you.
Toji stood from the couch and walked over to you to take the bags from your hands. The smell of his body wash wafted into your nose. There was an imaginary white flag hanging out of your pocket, and it was about to fall out to signal your surrender to Toji.
He pecks your cheek and watches in real time as get all flustered. It's one of the most adorable things he's ever seen—you standing there so rigidly afterwards. He gives you a soft smile and resists the urge to coo at you for being so cute. Instead, he heads to the table to put the bags of food down.
You shut the door, and within a split second, Toji was in front of you again. "Ma," he says, sounding a little more desperate than he thought he would. "Say something." You stand there like a statue—unmoving, but unlike a statue, you are easily moveable. Especially, by Toji. "Anything, mama, please." He crouches down at your feet, his warm hands resting on the backs of your knees and his cheek resting on one of your thighs. This position made it look like you were being worshipped by him, and anyone who ever saw him do this would know that it was true, because he worshipped everything about you. From the top of your head, to the ground your feet stood on.
"Don't you miss having my hands on you?" They glide up and down the backs of your thighs. He looks up at your stunned expression. You won't look down at him, so he gets to see the way you swallow the words dying to leave your mouth, and the slight widening of your eyes as he lets his hands roam your lower body. "I know I do. I've been in hell these past couple days." He presses a soft kiss to your knee, then one more on your thigh. "I didn't mean what I said. I don't think you're selfish, baby. Maybe i'm just a greedy asshole," he says, rekindling the subject of what led to your silence towards him. His hand maneuvers around your leg so that his palm is on your thigh, making its way up towards the inner part of it. "But, I know something," his lips trail further up your thigh, softly kissing your skin. "I'm greedy about you. That can't and won't be changed, even when we argue like idiots."
You put your hand on his head as he starts kissing up your inner thighs, making his way even further up beneath your skirt.
"Come on, my sweet girl," he murmurs, his lips meeting the front of your underwear. "Tell me you want me to stop. Tell me you hate that my filthy paws are on you, right now."
Your legs tremble at the lightness of his touch, and you internally cringe at how sensitive you've always been for him.
"Toji..." you gasp. You feel his warm tongue flatten between your legs, a slow upwards drag of the muscle makes your thighs quiver before him. You whimper at the damp warmth his saliva leaves on your panties. "Fuck..." you moan, breathily. "Don't stop. Stay there, please."
The first word you reintroduced yourself with being a moaned out rendition of his name was heaven reaching down to pat him on the back for knowing exactly what to do to get you to talk again.
"Open wider for me, baby. Let me see," Toji says, your skirt still veiled over his head. You take a step back so that your back is against the door and widen your stance a little more. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and you shudder when his tongue returns to slide through your clothed folds. He doesn't even need to produce that much saliva to drench the fabric of your underwear because you've done that for him already with your leaking arousal.
You shut your eyes and rest your head against the door as Toji continues his act of filth between your thighs. You can hear him panting below you, your taste pleasantly coating his tongue every time he sucks on the garment that clings to you.
You cry out his name with sharp breaths following, your fingers tangling into his locks, gripping and tugging as his lips catch onto your cunt. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you grit out, whimpering at the contrast between his mouth and his hands. His hands offer a gentle massage to your thighs, softly kneading the plush between his fingers. His mouth moves purposefully because he knows exactly what it takes to make you fall apart with it. He coats his tongue with your essence every time he laps at the wet patch on your underwear, sticky webs of arousal connecting him to you.
"T-Toji!" You squeal, your cunt throbbing with every brush of his tongue. "I'm gonna cum... Fuck, i'm gonna cum..." you whine.
Toji pushes your underwear to the side, and glides his tongue through your generously slicked folds once and you're instantly arching your back off the door, squirming in his hold and moaning carelessly as he sloppily makes out with your cunt. He desperately chases the sound of your pleasure-ridden voice, wanting to hear the way it raises in pitch when he strokes you just right. He doesn't want it to stop, it's been too long. Two days way too long. You tug at his hair with one hand, dragging the nails of your other hand down the door. You breathe heavily as Toji manipulates your pleasure until your thighs are trembling.
Toji pulls away and lifts your skirt off his head. He lowers your leg back down and stands up from his crouched position. He faces you with glossy lips that shine with all the juices he collected from you, some of it drooling down his chin to give him an even more messy appearance. He presses his lips to yours, making slow movements to allow you to realize what is happening while your eyes are closed. You can taste yourself on his lips as you catch the rhythm.
There's a loud smack in the last kiss before he releases you, a feral look in his green eyes as he dotes on your blissed out appearance. You look too pure for someone who's just experienced something so sinful. "Hey, look at me," he coos, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "Look at me," he repeats, staring at you as you try to catch your breath with closed eyes.
You hum, rolling your eyes open to lazily stare back at him. Your eyelids felt so heavy as you looked at him, but you liked how vigilant he was being. It made you crack a grin, a small gesture that had Toji's heart thudding a little quicker, now.
"I wanna fuck you so bad, ma." His eyes trail yours as they look away from his gaze. "If this is your reaction to my mouth, I don't even know what to expect for when I'm inside you."
You look down to see what's been poking your thigh for the past minute or so, and it's the monster in his pants, outlined for your eyes to quickly spot and everything.
"Come on," you say, reaching your hand out to him. He takes it and allows you to lead him to the bedroom.
Toji shuts the door and locks it to give the situation a deeper level of intimacy. There's no one there but the two of you and yet you feel even more secluded by the gesture.
He wasn't aggressive in the way he bared you for his eyes. He pulled you close to him by the waist, your body against his as he peeled your layers of clothes off.
"Stay," he says, when you take a step back. He takes that step towards you again, placing his hands on your hips, and snaking them around to your back to locate the zipper for your skirt. He exhales through his nose, lidded eyes watching the longing expression on your face closely as he pulls down the zipper and allows the article to fall on the floor. His fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt before he fully slides his hands beneath it, and raises it up your torso higher and higher. You put your arms up and allow him to slip it off your head.
He makes haste of getting his own clothes off, a sly smirk decorating his face when he sees you admiring him from where you sit on the end of the bed as you take off your bra and underwear. You're forced further up the bed by Toji as he inches closer and closer to you. You reach a dead end and welcome the suffocating warmth of his body as he cages you onto the bed.
"Don't do that to me again, mama," he murmurs, before leaning down to peck your lips. "Don't let me talk to myself for that long when you have such a pretty voice to respond with."
You laugh, pulling a small grin from him. "I didn't think you'd care, to be honest. I thought you'd tell me i'm being childish or ridiculous."
"Nah, princess. I thought I was gonna die."
You giggle, pulling him close again. "You're exaggerating."
"You wouldn't let me touch you. Not even when we went to bed, so it was like we were friends instead of lovers sleeping together. Especially with how far on your side you slept."
"Oh, baby," you coo, pressing multiple quick apologetic kisses to his lips. He chuckles at the affection, and his eyes close instinctively as your kisses become more widespread on his face. He missed this more than anything. "What can I do for your forgiveness, my love?"
"Just let me fuck you, ma. That's all. Give me my privilege to all of this, again." His hand slowly trails from your chest to your stomach, a touch you longed for dearly during those two days that you verbally ignored him.
"It's yours," you whisper to him. You peer up at him with your constellation eyes, silently begging him to realize how much you need him. "I'm yours, so show me the use you have for the privilege over my body, baby."
He leans down to kiss you, softly. He's desperate for you, but his lips don't falter their delicate synchrony because of it. He guides the tip of his cock through your folds, rubbing up and down the slickness a couple times before slowly sinking into you. Your ability to tangle with Toji's lips slowly deteriorates, and your focus strays to the stretching happening lower down your body, so Toji picks up the slack and feeds you his kisses.
"Come on," he groans out. Not even he is immune to the rebirth of sex with you. You're warm and inviting, and you embrace the pain and comfort he offers every time he craves you or you crave him. This time is no exception. "Kiss me back, sweetheart. Give them all to me," he mutters, before attempting to connect his lips to yours again. You dig your heels into the mattress and your toes curl as you feel his girth continue to submerge inside you.
Toji cups your chin and uses his fingers to squish your cheeks together into a makeshift pout for him to kiss. He can hear your hummed little whimpers in response to him sheathing himself further into you. He was being gentle, because hurting you is a crime in his world.
"Fuck, I missed this, mama," he says, goosebumps rising on his torso as he drags himself out of you halfway and pushes himself back in again. "So warm..." he says over the sound of your pleasured moan. He sighs, a grunt following as he starts a careful rocking rhythm into you. "I could stay inside you forever."
"I could keep you here forever," you rephrase, gazing up at him with those eyes he unequivocally loves. They've reverted back to the default loving expression you hold for him, the vacancy of your previous gaze now filled with love, excitement, lust, and overall enchantment. It's a beautiful thing to see your hurricanes subside.
He leans down to kiss you again, distributing the kisses on your face and leading them towards your neck. You could feel his abs dragging up and down your stomach with every roll of his hips against yours.
"Mmm... Toji," you moan, bringing your hands to his back. One of them moves up to the nape of his neck, threading through the dampened locks of his hair, the other traces his spine to distract you from how badly you want to dig your nails into him.
"I know," he coos, kissing the spot beneath your ear. "I know, doll. It's always this good with you."
You gasp at the feeling of his cock prodding the more sensitive area within you. "Right there, right there... Oh..." you moan out, inevitably digging your nails into his shoulder blades while Toji directs his kisses back up your neck and towards your face again so he can see the honest expression on it. You're lost in pleasure, vibrating as another orgasm rushes through you.
"Fuck, mama.. let me-" he groans, outwardly losing it at the overflow of your juices. "Let me see those pretty eyes," he pants, gripping your waist a little more harshly as he feels his cock on the brink of expelling into you. "Need you to watch me," he says, taking in the way your lips part to release your sounds of utter satisfaction. Your eyes flutter open to center on his greedy eyes. You mirror his lustful, lidded gaze, the look enough to make him spill inside you, making your cunt even sloppier. "You're gorgeous, ma," he says, mindlessly, as he fucks into you with a little more fervor. "Fucking stunning," he mutters through pants, to which you respond with a sly smirk. The gesture lured a groan out of him and made his cock twitch as he finished releasing into you.
You giggle when he stills his hips. Your combined attempts to regulate your breathing fills the silence that follows. "What're you laughing at?" He asks, massaging your hip with his thumb.
"You tell me that all the time like you're obsessed with me or something."
"And if I am?" he says with a voice so deep you have to blink to see that it's still your gentle giant of a man. "Is it too much for you? Can you handle it? Am I suffocating you, baby?" he purrs, cupping your cheeks while leaning in close to emphasize his points. All it does is allow you to closely admire how handsome he is and really think about what's happening in this moment. This green-eyed, raven-haired man, with the prettiest pointed nose and the most attractive scarred lips, is bedding you, and doing it so well.
"Never. Come closer and bite," you murmur.
He takes your lips in his again, a little more aggressive than before. You asked him to bite, and that's exactly what he's doing. The make out has him rocking both of you a little faster, working you towards yet another orgasm. You nip at his bottom lip and run your tongue over it when hisses. You hum out a little giggle, and moan into his mouth when he jolts into you.
"God, i'll bust again if you keep doing that. I'm serious, mama" he groans, swiping his tongue over his stinging bottom lip. You think he's being dramatic so when he leans down to kiss you again, you bite his bottom lip and suck on it. You gasp, releasing his lip and stare at him with wide eyes as his excessive warmth spurts into your cunt, filling it to the brim and beyond, to the point of leakage.
"F-Fuck... you're terrible," he groans, shuddering with tense abdominal muscles as he lures the entirety of his orgasm out. "Cum," he says, panting as he picks up the pace of his rutting to get you to follow his orgasm. "I can feel you clenching around me like hell. I know you want to," he says, reaching a hand between you and him to stimulate your clit.
Your already labored breathing picks up and your heart is pounding in your ears aggressively as you roll your hips back against his. You whimper as you feel your peak get closer and closer, a cried out and breathy "fuck!" leaving you when it arrives, followed by high pitched moans that make Toji's heart race. You arched your back off the mattress as you reached the zenith of your orgasm with the help of Toji's finger rapidly rubbing your clit while he maintained his satisfying pace inside you.
You whimper, slapping a hand onto Toji's wrist to stop his movements on you. He smirks at the sight of your trembling thighs, your heaving chest, and the sound of your dazed hums. You always were such a delicate thing. So fragile that even with just enough of his attention, he could break you.
"Tired yet?" He asks, admiring your relaxed facial features. You nod with your eyes closed, your lips parted to release little puffs of air. "Thought you'd be. I'll go grab some towels for us to shower." He pulls out of you, taking a moment to admire your collaborative masterpiece.
"Baby..." you whine, sitting up when you feel his weight lift off the bed. "I can't get up." You dramatically let yourself fall back on the bed and stick your tongue out to portray your exhaustion.
"Get up, you faker. That's all you have to do and i'll take care of the rest."
"Too tired to wash myself right now..." you say, waking up for a second before closing your eyes again. Toji can see the sly grin on your face and the little shake of your stomach as you stifle your giggles.
"Guess you're too tired to eat, too, huh? You know i've got a huge appetite, and I could eat all that food you brought by myself."
"You wouldn't," you say, abruptly sitting up on the bed and squinting at him. "There's enough to feed three people in those bags."
"I've got the stomach of three people in one, so you better catch up before you're left with my seconds."
You sigh, too tired to move, but you get up anyway and trail behind Toji. "Baby, can you pleeease clean me up? I'm beat."
He puts his hands on your shoulders as he now walks behind you. "Sure, but don't complain when I take longer on certain areas."
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