#and the more you read the more you learn your references but the more you want to bang you head against a wall

[suashii]

— 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑔𝑒𝑜𝓃 𝓈𝒶𝓂𝓊 ౨ৎ

miya osamu x reader. 0.7k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ papa!osamuﾉ reader is referred to as mom ﾉ repost!

a/n: father's day drabbled #3! kuroo's version and atsumu's version are available to read :3 suna tomorrow!

“dad, odie got mr. stuffins.” at the voice, osamu looks down beside him as he turns off the faucet to the kitchen sink. your daughter stands with her hands held out, her favorite stuffed animal nearly in tatters. the fabric is torn open by the threads, exposing the fluffy stuffing. and the offender is nowhere to be found.

“oh no. how about i hold onto him until mom gets home to patch him up?” osamu leans down to her level after drying off his hands.

“nuh-uh. he needs surgery right away!” the girl thrusts the damaged bear into his chest.

“i know, baby. i just don’t want to ruin your toy.” well, ruin it beyond its already ruined state. despite the stuffed bear already being torn apart, osamu’s sure that if he gets his hands on it, it might just end up looking worse. it’s more than likely that your daughter is already harboring ill feelings for the poor family dog and osamu doesn’t want to be next.

“daaad, you gotta fix him now. please?” she sticks out her bottom lip in a pout, fat tears pooling in her dark eyes. osamu swears he can hear a little sniffle.

how can he say no to that face?

“okay, okay. i’ll see what i can do.”

maybe it wasn’t the best idea for osamu to offer his services so hastily. even after several youtube tutorials, he still isn’t completely confident in his abilities to mend the broken. before now, he’s never had any reason to learn to sew. to make things worse, a whole piece of the fuzzy material is nowhere to be found. at this rate, even if the tutorials were of any help, he still wouldn’t be able to sew mr. stuffins back together.

but he’ll make this work—for her.

that’s how osamu ends up cutting up an old pair of his pajama pants to stitch your daughter’s beloved toy back together. it takes longer than he imagined it would to fit all the stuffing back into the bear and he poked himself with the needle more times than he could count, but, eventually, the task is done. the plushie is in considerably better shape than when it was brought to him, but it’s far from the bear your daughter knew.

after building up the courage to present the new and somewhat improved teddy to your daughter, osamu makes his way back into the living room where the girl sits coloring at the coffee table. upon hearing her father’s footsteps, the girl drops her crayons and runs to his feet. she looks up to him with expectant eyes.

“dad tried his best, but mr. stuffins looks really different,” osamu admits. it probably won’t be much help—the warning, that is, but he wants to prepare her for the very unfamiliar version of her old friend.

she bounces on the balls of her feet, excited for the fated reunion.

“if you don’t like it, i’ll buy you a new one.” he finally pulls the bear from behind his back, presenting it to the little girl. she quickly grabs it, eyes silently taking in all of the changes to her toy. osamu waits for a reaction. he never thought he’d be one to seek his kid’s approval, but today seems to be full of surprises. this moment is more nerve-wracking than any volleyball game he’d played in high school.

“so…” osamu starts, not able to wait any longer. he’s feeling just as impatient as her now. “how’d i do?”

“mr. stuffins is wearing your clothes,” she giggles, running her little fingers over the recognizable flannel patch. the tiny smile on her face and the absence of disappointed cries must be a sign that he’d done something right, but osamu wants to know for sure.

“you like it, then?”

“mhm, i can’t wait to show mom!” she hurries back to her place at the coffee table, surely excited to update mr. stuffins on everything he missed while he was undergoing his operation. thinking better, she stops in her tracks. the girl turns on her heel to make her way back to osamu. she wraps her arms around his leg in a hug, the bear trapped between her body and osamu’s limb. 

“thank you, dad!”

he sets a hand on the top of her head, ruffling the strands of hair. “you’re welcome, sweetheart.”

thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[just-a-ghost00]

Who is your soulmate/twin flame? - Pick a Bangchan aesthetic edition

Twin flame is usually a term used to designate a specific type of soul bond/ soul contract between two individuals. They are sometimes refered to as « a single soul coming from the same egg » that got seperated before being incarnated. Each bearing different wounds, they navigate lifetimes to hopefully heal and reunite, becoming one again. Twin flames could be what you could say is Plato’s definition of soulmates. In modern times, the term soulmate refers to two distinct souls that have shared many lifetimes together and are meant to cross paths again in this lifetime to teach each other lessons and help each other resolve karma. Whether we are referring to one or another, both have in common a deep sense of love and connection. Whether you enquire about a twin flame or a soulmate, know that they aren’t necessarily a romantic partner. They could be of any gender. They might not be incarnated yet. They could be a child, an adult, a parent, a friend, a coworker. If you proceed with this reading, you should step in it with an open heart and mind. Take only what resonates and leave doubt at the gate. As you read, you may find that the person I’m describing sounds like you. That is because soulmates/TF tend to mirror one another. If it doesn’t feel like anything that makes sense to you, then maybe this reading held no messages for you today. Yours truly,

Just a ghost.

Group 1 - Rocky Chan🤘 Channeled song : BTBT from B.I feat Soulja boy & DeVita

Tarot : 8 of wands, Queen of swords, ace of swords, 9 of wands, 2 of cups, The Fool

Oracle cards : Ametrine - Make your big dreams your big life, Shiva Lingam - Go all in on your essence, 3 Dolphin - Socialize and celebrate life, play

Messages from Merlin :

Mandragora spell - Be the master of your beliefs : Your fears and anxiety are the product of your beliefs. Stop ruminating, for none of it is meant to happen. Your beliefs shape your reality so transform them to make them reflect your wishes and thus materialize them.

Red dragon & white dragon - Shed light onto your shadow : Shed light onto your inner conflicts. By accepting your mistakes and fears with humility, you’ll allow your trust and harmony to take back their rightful place in your realm. Don’t hesitate to apologize to and forgive yourself.

Whyvern spell - Choose consciously : Before you give in to temptation and follow a thought, a project or a person, take the time to learn more about them. Listen to your reason and intuition in order to avoid delusions. You can then peacefully envision what’s next.

Significant signs : Pisces, Gemini, Scorpio, Cancer, Sagittarius, numbers 8 1 9 2 0 3, letters F P A S L , colors like pastel pink / purple / ocean blue /red, dolphins, snakes, white dogs

Key words : idealist, hopeless romantic, Peter Pan syndrom, mommy issues, creative, connection, playfulness, emotional immaturity, soft hearted, touch starved, loyalty, inner child healing

This reading is going to be quite lengthy so bear with me. Grab a pen and a notebook if you wish. This person feels rather masculine. They are a soulmate of yours without a doubt. In terms of looks and general information, they have rather wavy hair and a lean body. They’re a swimmer or they enjoy any kind of activity related to water, like fishing or diving. They have tanned skin. They probably have kind of a surfer vibe. They live near an important body of water or they want to live near water. They likely have clear and shiny eyes, big doe eyes and kind of a lost puppy look. Their style feels pretty flowy and laid back. Probably casual most of the time. They feel gender fluid. They could identify as being bisexual. They are likely younger than you. If so, they are only a few years younger. You might want to check group 2 as well if you hesitated between the two groups. They could like painting as well, especially water coloring.

This person is a dreamer. Eternally dissatisfied with life, they long for more. They seek for thrilling and exhilarating sensations to make them feel alive. They are carefree, playful, innocent in many ways. It’s like they never had the time and space to really grow, to be a child with childlike occupations and worries. They had to grow up and be responsible too quickly too soon, probably because they were the eldest of their siblings or because they had to take care of an ill relative. They are an idealist. They tend to be very harsh on themselves, they struggle with the feeling of being good enough. They are the people pleaser, the mom friend, the psychologist, the cutie bestie of the group that gives so much but only gets so little in return and would never say a thing about it because they think they don’t deserve to demand anything. They are the social butterfly, the « I have so many friends » that they barely know type. They crave attention, they crave love. They love the idea of love. They are often in their little bubble, wishfully thinking about life and people. They are probably the type that wonders where in the world their soulmate is and WTF they are doing. They idealize love. Probably because they’ve never really been in love. They are incredibly intuitive and sensitive, caring and lovable. They like to make people feel good, to show love through acts of service and affirmations. They are all over the place. They are so excited by life and what it has to offer. They are an over thinker. They are pretty communicative. Though they are innocent and naive, they know pretty well what they want. They don’t hesitate to cut people off when needed. They have a lot of responsibilities on their shoulders. The concept of love and being in relationships is pretty new to them. They lack experience in the matters of the heart. They are a wanderer. They like to travel and explore places but also mindsets and people. This person has the potential to astral travel. They have very vivid dreams and nightmares. Intimacy scares the shit out of them but they crave it just as much as they dread it. This person wants to have children. They love children, love the idea of a big family. Since this person is so creative and dreamy and they have the Play card, they could very well be an artist or someone that has a meaningful presence online. They work in the entertainment industry in some way, shape or form. They tend to burn themselves out. They lack patience sometimes. They might struggle with ADHD or any other form of neurodivergence. They could be on the spectrum. This person’s purpose in life is to bring healing by alleviating the weight of other souls. Hence the entertainment thing. They are meant to distract people from their struggles and shadows so that they can appreciate their existence to a bare minimum and breathe a little. They could enjoy working with kids specifically. Being a teacher or a social worker could also be a thing they are into. They like to share and evolve in groups. Because they struggle with finding a sense of belonging. They feel sometimes like they are not from this earth and something more awaits them. Especially if they are on the spectrums (LGBTQIA+, Autism and so on). It can be hard for them to relate to other people or read the atmosphere in social settings. Being the comic relief of the group helps them deal with the stress that generates. They often wear masks to be liked by other people which gets pretty tiring. Hence they have no energy left to tend to themselves which is why they look for connections where they can rely on their partner without asking for or worrying about anything. They like to be pampered and praised, especially in bed.

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Group 2 - Smiley Chan 😄

Channeled song : You can’t hold my heart from Monsta X Significant signs : Scorpio, Leo, Sagittarius, Gemini, Libra, Taurus, letters S L J P B K, snakes, ravens, numbers 37 19 9 6 11, colors like pastel green / sandy grey / soft blues

Tarot cards : Queen of wands, The Sun, 9 of wands, The Lovers, Page of swords, Justice Oracle cards : The Pillar, 37 Candy Basslet rx - Know your worth, Shungite - Get real with your truth, Bloodstone - Power up your vitals

Messages from Merlin The Wizard :

The 9 Guardians of Avalon - Ask and you shall receive : They guard the order of all things. They ensure the threads of fate twist and twine as they should and at the right time. Be sincere about what you wish for and they shall answer in their own way. Pay attention!

Guinevra Queen of Arthur - There is no King without a Queen : you need the qualities of both masculine and feminine. Combine your thinking with your sensitivity and creativity to your decision making skills and influence. It is within this fair and balanced union that fruitful projects can be birthed.

Tuatha Dé Danann - Message from the silent people : We became Sidhes, people from the underground of the earth we seek to protect. Faes and divine beings, our magic is powerful. Come meet us in the forest, by a lake or a river. Seek our help in the form of a simple prayer and we shall know how to comfort you.

Key words : daddy issues, ambition, balance, communication, spirituality, intensity, depth, grounding, self confidence, self worth, anger issues

There is a lot to cover here and this is going to be a lengthy reading so bear with me. Feel free to take notes, make your own research if you feel called to especially when it comes to the crystals mentioned. So first of all, I want to say that this person’s energy feels like it’s currently in it’s feminine era. Though this person is very balanced in general they are indulging more into their feminine side. They could have long hair and rather tanned skin. They like going outdoors, bathing into the sun, going for walks or running. They are athletic and pretty active. The reason I am saying this is because all of the tarot cards we have here are illustrated with very feminine characters. Now this person is very much owning their power and doing their best to unapologetically be themselves. In the past, they struggled with their body image and sense of self but it seems like they are coming to terms with that. They have strong boundaries and there’s a depth to them that could really trigger/scare people, including you. This person has been through so much they can’t be bothered anymore. They don’t have time for mind games, petty lies and arguments. They want to be treated with respect and are willing to do the same so long as you don’t cross them. They are very much down to earth and simple in their functioning : all or nothing type of mentality, be good to me and I’ll be great to you, stab me and I’ll bring hell upon your head. They don’t forgive and forget easily and could hold grudges. This person values honesty, fairness, integrity. They have a strong moral compass and look for people who can match their intensity. They are cerebral. They like to think, to imagine, to create. They have the energy and mentality of a leader, a pioneer, someone that people look up to because they pave the way in a very unique manner. This person really stands out from the crowds. They tend to burden and pressure themselves because they hold themselves in high regard. This is due to their upbringing. They were raised to be the man of the house, regardless of their gender. I have a gut feeling they could identify themselves as genderfluid. They value love and connections, loyalty and compassion. They give their all in relationships and are very protective of the people they love. They are very sensual, kinky even. This person is likely to be a potential romantic partner, whether you know them already or not. They are definitely not a child, though they can sometimes harbor the energy of one. They are bratty and stubborn AF. They get under people’s skin easily whether for good or bad reasons. They elicit strong reactions from people because their vibrations are beyond anything people can fathom.

Sometimes they overextend themselves. They like to give and be of help to others. People tend to feed off of their light like leeches. They could attract a lot of narcissistic people, naysayers and haters just by breathing. This person’s job in this lifetime is solely to trigger people and shake their dusty and sterile belief systems. Which is probably what they’re also meant to do in your life. Honestly, this feels like a twin flame connection. If you were ever wondering if you had one, now I guess you know. If we get more detailed about their looks and general information about them, I’d say they’re pretty curvy. They kinda set the usual standards of beauty off. This person was never meant to fit into a box. They’re their own goddam category. Very very strong energy here. They’re the type of person that maybe wouldn’t match the traditional beautiful/pretty girl/boy stereotype but instead would look magnificent because of what they radiate. Their morals and ideals are their beauty. They’re beautiful because of the way they think, the way they treat people with equity, the way they are deep down when no one is looking. They have unconventional interests or an unconventional way of going about common interests. Their eyes could be what draws you in. Other than that, their voice can be pretty addictive. Their whole being is addictive actually. They are likely to be a foreigner or someone that was raised with a different culture than yours. This person likes to play with their appearance and the way they present themselves. Their fashion style can vary depending on their mood.

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Group 3 - Dreamy Chan Channeled song : My Oasis from Sam Smith feat Burna Boy

Tarot cards : 5 of pentacles rx, knight of pentacles, 2 of cups, 6 of pentacles, 7 of pentacles, king of cups Oracle cards : Ascension, Labradorite - Protect your magic, Pyrite - call on your core power, 15 Clownfish spirit - Protect your home, 43 Koi fish spirit - Just for fun

Possible signs : Pisces, Taurus, Scorpio, colors like soft greens and yellows, baby blue, cows and bulls, white dogs, letters A L P K C

Messages from Merlin The Wizard :

Mordred's betrayals - Don't let anger be your master : your anger isn't a good advisor. Shout, write, dance, talk about your suffering to let go of it but don't let it dictate the next chapter of your story. Whatever struggles you face, stay calm, transmute your anger and then you shall know how to deal with it and find solutions.

Merlin crazy in love - What are you ready to let go of? : To choose is to sacrifice realities that could have been. With each decision, you create your story by giving up on other possibilities. If you are wondering what to do, ask yourself what you would like to experience and what you are ready to let go of in order to get there.

Shadow magic - Transmute fear into strength : It is there, lingering in the shadows. Your fear. It doesn't know how much of a strength in can be instead of weakness. Understand your fear and challenge yourself to be stronger than it. Use it as a fuel to improve and have twice as many reasons to be proud of yourself.

Key words : caring, friends to lovers trope, morning calls and text, feeling lost and helpless, laidback, no strings attached, humanitarian work, anger issues, trust issues

This person is a soulmate of yours. They feel both masculine and femine. Their energy is pretty balanced and comforting. They are likely older than you. They have a look and a body type that's pretty common. Not too fit but not that bad either. They kinda blend in the crowd. You wouldn't notice them unless they wanted you to. They likely have long brown/black hair and tanned skin. But that's just a detail. I heard their appearance doesn't matter, they focus more on the soul. They think they're not pretty is what it is about. They are prettier than they think. But more than anything, they want to be known and loved for who they are deep in their core. When it comes to jobs or interests, this person could do something that inspires people. This is very general and can match a lot of jobs and activities. They like to raise awareness and learn from other people, so humanitarian work seems relevant. Artist could also be a possibility. This person is appreciated in their community for their strong values, their gentle side and work ethic. They never judge anyone or look down on people. They are very giving and patient, understanding. They know what it's like to be afraid or struggle. They've known pain on so many levels that at this point they have a black belt in life struggles. I feel like they want to protect people from the shitty sides of life. They want to help people avoid going through the struggles they faced when they were young. Like, let's say this person is queer and had a very hard time being themselves without facing backlash from other people, now that they've come so far they want to advocate for queer rights and help people that may be going through the same experience. Or if this person was abused, now that they've done their healing they want to help victims of abuse. This person has a lot of empathy and understanding of human condition. They are pretty down to earth and realistic. They like routines and patterns. They either work a nine to five or if they don't, they make sure they always do the same things : get their coffee first, set their equipment and tools, check their emails and notifications then get to work. Get a coffee on their way back, wash when they're home, check their mails again, work some more, overthink. Repeat. They strive for more. They long for more than the life they're experiencing right now. They're going through an awakening. This person had been neglecting the spiritual realm. They were only focusing on the material aspects of life. Concepts of souls or connections that went beyond distance and matter didn't resonate with them up until now. They recently had to let go of something that was important to them. Their life has been filled with sacrifice. This person would let opportunities pass, out of humility or out of love for others. They would put other people's needs first, no matter how much pain they were in. But the scales tipped when someone betrayed them or something felt very unfair to them. Like they were screwed over. This person lost confidence because of this and went through a very dark time in their life. They have struggled with depression and anxiety. They've had health issues, their abundance was affected by this situation. They could have lost a lot of money or important business partners, for instance. They could have lost their job or home or even their family. This person is now at a place in their life where they're back on track. They've worked on themselves, fought to regain control over their life and create a reality they could be proud of. Their finances are going well, they somewhat feel fulfilled but in the back of their mind it's like something's missing. They long for connection and attention. Something genuine and light hearted. I think this person has started to date. Or at least, they're open to the idea.

[astarionancuntnin]

Die For You (Chapter 4)

summary: its the night of the ball and you take this opportunity to learn more about what the vampire ascendant has been up to while you were apart. it looks like he hasn't only made allies…

rating: M

word count: 3.8k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, implied fighter/noble!tav)

cw: reader!tav has social anxiety, usage of knives, threat of and attempted r*pe (disclaimer that astarion is not the aggressor)

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Don't say yes if you can't say no

Victim of the system, say it isn't so

Squatted on the doorstep, swallowed all the blow

Leaving without you, can't say no

The night of the ball finally came. As far as you know, tonight’s ball is hosted by a highly influential duke who Astarion intends to ally with. Your dress, specifically commissioned by Lord Ancunín himself for the occasion, is a gorgeous royal blue long gown with an open back, which highlights your toned muscles, with golden patterns of a flying dragon embroidered under the chest area, and vines of daffodil flowers grappling from the bottom of the helm up to the waist. The sleeves are made from lace matching the colour of the dress, with a pattern of hyacinths complimenting them. Along with the dress, you wear a tight laced collar necklace adorned by a nuummite stone. You notice the similarities with the previous dress Astarion had made for you; the colours and patterns were a contrast to what you remembered of Cazador’s red and black.

You slip into the dress easily and the same spawn that had prepared your bath before, now prepares your hair for the night. You sense that she was the one dispatched as your personal assistant, since she had been the one who had been taking care of you since you moved into the room. It felt odd having her being so close to you and not even knowing her name. You knew she must’ve been a human before her transformation, as you had noticed previously, but aside from the obvious, you knew nothing of her. You take advantage of the time it takes for her to prepare you for the night to learn more about her story.

“I realise now that I never asked, but what’s your name?”

You feel her hands pause their work in your hair. “My name is Amedee.” She continues to brush your hair.

“That’s a beautiful name.” You pause for a moment, anxious to carry on. “I… wanted to thank you for taking care of me, since I’ve arrived.” 

“It’s really no trouble,” you hear the smile in her voice.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you become a spawn?”

It’s unsettling how you’re unable to look at her reflection from the mirror you were facing, and you have to guess her expression based on her tone alone.

“I came to Lord Ancunín myself. I was sick, and the doctors said my condition was incurable. I had heard about the new vampire lord who had helped in saving the city and... I know it probably sounds foolish, but I didn’t want to die so young, so I took a chance and… here I am.”

“So then… It’s a known fact that he’s a vampire?”

“Not exactly. My family are Gur monster hunters, so they knew all about his identity, and that’s how I knew. It’s also why after turning I decided to stay as one of his servants. I never shared my family’s beliefs and they would never accept me back with my new condition.” She sees your wandering eyes in your reflections and lays her hands on your shoulders. “I'm here on my own terms, my Lady, I assure you.” Your eyes tentatively look back in the mirror only to be met with your own reflection. She continues as she braids your hair, “I could probably leave if I wanted to, but I have no reason to. The Master treats us well; he offers us protection, a roof over our heads, and, well, blood. As far as I'm concerned, this is my new home. My new family.”

The few moments of silence between the two of you are filled by the crackling of the fireplace. “And why do you refer to me as ‘Lady’? It’s a title I abandoned a while ago…” The brief memory of your upbringing brings out a bittersweet feeling; you never thought you would bear this title again after running away from your family.

“Oh, it was Lord Ancunín who requested that we refer to you as such.”

Of course he did, you think. “I give you the permission to call me by my name. It would make more sense to me that you do, given that we’ll be very close since you’re assigned to my personal care.”

“I– I appreciate the attention, but if it’s alright with you I would rather stick to your title.” Her voice shakes. “It’s just all so soon, I’m not sure I would be comfortable. I’m sorry.”

You sigh, “I understand.”

Just as she finishes talking, she completes your hairdo; she settles on a simple, yet elegant, braided bun. Two strands of your dark hair are let down to frame your face, along with a set of earrings matching the crystal on your neck. Then, the final touch; a black lace mask, with extravagant dragon wings completely covering your eyes and nose, and partially your cheeks. 

“And voilà! All ready for the ball, my Lady.”

You finally turn to see her smile at you and you almost feel foolish for asking her this last question, “Do you ever regret it? Turning, I mean.”

Her smile softens, “If given the chance, I would do it again.”

You return her smile as you thank her for her service and the open-hearted discussion, and head out where you join Astarion who was waiting for you at the carriage. You see the traits on his face light up, his eyes completely lost in your sight.

“My treasure, you look ravishing.”

You avoid his eyes and try to conceal the shy smile creeping up on your lips. Although the reason for this outfit was less than ideal, you did love how it made you feel. It truly was made for you, with your preferences in mind and highlighting your best features, but still matching Astarion's esthetic, along with his own suit for the night.

When you arrive at your destination, a servant opens the door to your carriage, and Astarion steps out first to hold out his hand for you to walk out. You second guess the gesture, but indulge him, as anything less than loving attention from both of you could risk arising questions from the other guests, and the last thing you wanted was to draw out any unwanted attention. As you walk through the entrance of the palace, you are announced as Lord and Lady Ancunín. The title makes you give a side look to your partner.

“What?” He retorts. “Are you not my partner for the night? Plus,” he tilts your chin upwards. “It’s a title that suits you beautifully.”

“Only for tonight, I don’t intend on sticking around much longer.” You say, as close as a whisper as you can, while carefully pushing his hand aside.

He sighs exasperatedly, “And it’s a shame, truly, so we should enjoy ourselves while we can, don’t you think?”

You roll your eyes, but you’re willing to let it go, if only for tonight.

When you step inside the palace, many emotions overcome you as you are taken back to a time before the tadpole and the Absolute, and you freeze in place briefly, but long enough for Astarion to notice. He pulls you in closer to murmur down your ear.

“Stay with me love, I would hate to lose you when I’ve only just gotten you back.”

You shake your head, taking a deep breath in an attempt to ground you back to the present, “I’m– I’m fine. I just need to walk a bit.” You adjust your mask, making sure it’s properly covering your face. 

“Well then, I have some people I need to talk to, so I’ll let you enjoy the festivities, but don’t stray too far,” he raises your hand to his lips to kiss it. “Until then, darling.” He gives you one last sly smile before vanishing into the crowd.

You’re walking around the ballroom, keeping to yourself as you eavesdrop on the inconspicuous members of this high society when you hear a familiar name being mentioned: Ancunín. You let your curiosity get the best of you; what did these people have to say about your vampiric companion? You listen in and to your surprise, it was… positive? He had apparently been helpful in rebuilding the city and using his already strong influence to have other Lords and Dukes from the surrounding lands fund the repairs. Perhaps, he wasn’t all bad like you originally thought. Maybe, just maybe, he had changed for the better after all, and all the gifts he gave you were simply his way to catch up for the months you spent apart. It left you wondering: Was he right, all these months ago? Was it a mistake to leave him? Was this goodness always a part of him and you just refused to see it? No… That couldn’t be right… Could it?

Not that further away, you hear another group of men talking about him, but this time the conversation is bitter. They seemed to hate how easily he had made his way to the top; how what took them years to achieve only took him months, and you can briefly catch a few sentences through the sound of the crowd. “All because he saved the city once. I bet I could do it too if I had the opportunity. He just got lucky.”

You huff, absolutely appalled by their words that affected you just as much since you had been part of the effort to take down the Absolute. I'd like to see you try. As they turn around, you realise your voice came out louder than you expected.

“What was that?” One of them asks, looking at you.

You try to hide your distress, “Oh! Nothing, I was just talking to myself,” you chuckle nervously.

“No, no, please, we would love to hear your input on our private discussion.” 

You huff, “You’re in the middle of a ballroom, how private could it be?”

Your words slip out before you can think of the repercussions, but it's too late by now: the man who previously spoke up moves in on you, followed by a second one. Their companion doesn’t intervene, seemingly unfazed by your intrusion, but it doesn’t stop the two other men to close in on you. Fear starts to build up in your chest; you were good with your fists, not with words, and this was not something you could solve with a few punches.

Just when you thought you were done for, the music changes and people move aside to leave a space in the middle of the ballroom, where couples gather to dance. This distraction stops them in their tracks as the mass of people moving now blocks their path to reach you. You take this chance to sneak out of the thorny situation you got yourself in and slip in the back of the crowd, where you believe you can hide from the men you had angered, when you feel the warm breath of a whisper in the back of your neck.

“Missed me, my sweet?”

“Gods!” You jump at his sudden appearance. “Do you have to sneak up on me every time you wanna talk?” You try to whisper to avoid any attention. 

“I do love your little jumps of excitement to my presence.”

You groan at his innuendo, too focused on catching your breath to come up with something clever. As your eyes settle back on the crowd, you find the eyes of one of the men from the earlier confrontation you had. Intuitively, you step back to try and get away from his eyes, only to be caught by Astarion who noticed the exchange.

“It seems you were fast to make new friends, dear. Care to introduce me?”

“Fuck no. Those assholes were bad mouthing us and I just–” You try to calm yourself as you remember their conversation. “I couldn’t keep to myself when I heard them and I may have whispered just slightly louder than anticipated. Let’s just say I was lucky the dance came on when it did.”

Behind you, he smirks as an idea crosses his mind. “Let’s show them you’re not someone to mess with.”

You scoff, “I would beat them up, but this is hardly the time and place.”

He chuckles before lowering his head to your shoulder, whispering closer to your ear. “Dance with me.”

You turn your head to look at him, puzzled, “I didn’t take you for a dancer.”

“Only when it proves necessary,” he moves in front of you and holds out his hand as an invite, his seducing smile never leaving his face. “And I believe a dance as the great Lord Ancunín’s consort might just be what you need.”

Before the next song begins, you reach out for him and he guides you on the dance floor. As you place your hand in his, and over his shoulder, his hand holds firmly over your waist, pulling you tightly against him. Your chest rises to the sudden proximity you’re drawn into and you feel as if your heart is going to burst out of your chest; it had been so long since you had been this close to each other. Your eyes briefly look over his lips and you’re suddenly thankful for the crowd surrounding you, as you’re not sure what you would do if you were left alone with him. The violins initiate the next dance and it takes everything in your power to focus on your footsteps, following the choreography that you had learned years ago.

“Darling, you’re making it very difficult for me to focus,” he whispers close to your ear.

“I don't know what you mean,” you whisper back.

“Your heartbeat, dear. I knew I had an effect on you, but this is just depraved.” he says, with a sultry voice.

You feel your cheeks grow warmer and you thank the gods your mask covers them at least partially; you would never admit the effect he had on you. You pull your gaze away from his lips. “Ugh, please, this is the first time I’m dancing in ages. I’m simply anxious about fucking it up.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that, you’re doing amazingly well.”

You knew that; you weren't really nervous about your dancing skills, you spent your entire childhood practising the same patterns, getting ready for those balls where you would find a suitor to be married off to. Not that it ever happened, but you couldn't forget those dances even if you tried to. 

Your eyes scan the room and the people around you as your twirl, and that’s when you notice their judging eyes on you, as if they knew you didn’t belong. You find yourself anxiously looking for the eyes of the men you had angered earlier.

Astarion notices your scurrying gaze and brings you back to him. “Hey, eyes on me.” When you meet his gaze, he instantly reads the fear in your eyes. “Ignore them, they don’t matter. None of them do.” 

“I don't know if I can do this,” you look away once more and he brings back your gaze on him by swiftly tilting your chin towards him.

“You can, and you will. Just follow my lead, love.”

You do as he says, your eyes never leaving his, and you find comfort in them. You feel safe, as if some invisible force protected you both. You allow yourself to breathe, your heartbeat finding its cadence once more, and you let yourself be guided by Astarion; his strong hold on you providing the security you didn’t know you longed for. You feel as if the dance could go on for the rest of the night and you would keep going, so long as he kept you close. The sound of hands clapping around you brings you back to reality, and he lets you go to kiss your hand as the dance ends.

“Perfect, as expected.”

“Thank you, that was… nice.” You smile, a true smile, for the first time since you are reunited.

“Would you indulge me in a second dance, then?”

You laugh lightly, “I think that was enough action for tonight.” You sigh, “I need some air before anything else.” “The courtyard should be just ahead. I’ll finish my round and we can leave for the night afterwards.”

You nod, “That sounds like a plan.”

You head for the large windowed door that leads to a large courtyard, surrounded by a large maze. You take this chance to breathe in the smell of the garden; the earthy, unmistakable scent of the flowers fills your lungs and eases your mind almost instantly. Your senses are so enraptured by the peace the courtyard brings you, that you don’t hear the person sneaking up behind you.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” When you turn around, you recognize the noble as one of the men from the group earlier: the one who practically ignored you. You’re surprised at his size for a high elf; up close, he is much larger than what you recall seeing in the ballroom. You take a few steps back in retreat, prepared to defend yourself, and he raises his hands in sign of peace.

“I swear, I mean no harm.”

“It didn’t feel like it earlier,” you snap at him.

He laughs, “My… colleagues are prompt to act irrationally. I’m proud to say that I’m rather the opposite.”

You lower your defences; it’s true, you recall seeing him stand passively earlier, uninterested in the conflict. He was not the one you needed to worry about. You were not dressed to fight, anyway. He sees this as a chance to approach you.

“I was actually hoping you would do me the honour of a dance? It’s the first time I see you at one of those soirées and I must say your beauty caught me off guard.” You chuckle lightly; you knew all about his type, and you were not interested. “Well, thank you, but it’s getting rather late, and I best get going–” As you walk away he grabs hold of your wrist.

“I insist, please. Just one dance.”

You look back to the lively ballroom and when you see no sign of Astarion, you turn back towards the nobleman and sigh in resignation. What’s the harm of one, meaningless dance? Right?

“Alright, just– one dance.”

He smiles and it makes you uneasy; you instantly regret allowing him this proximity with you. The sooner this is over, the better, you think, as you let him hold you for this dance. The music is nothing but an echo where you are in the gardens, but it’s loud enough for you both to follow its melody. You can’t believe it, but you’re wishing Astarion was here to take you away from this situation. You try to think about anything else to avoid being in the moment, but when you feel the man’s ragged breath against your neck and his hand going down your waist, you feel your hackles raising in alarm.

“I think that’s enough,” you try to pull away but he forcefully brings you back to him, pressing you hard against his chest.

“But we're not even halfway through this dance.” His hand lowers to grab onto your ass and squeeze it, pushing you against his crotch, and it's with disgust that you feel his bulge against your leg.

“Fuck off!” You push him away and he barely stumbles back before pushing you hard enough to make you lose your balance and fall on your back. He grabs a hold of a knife from his back and holds it to your throat as he towers over you.

“You’re gonna regret that.”

You’re frozen by fear, the knife is held so closely to your throat that when you gulp you feel the blade slightly cut your skin, making you hiss. With his weight on your thighs and the sharpness of the knife, you had no way to counter attack without risking your neck getting sliced open in the process. You feel as if all the air suddenly left your lungs, incapable to fight back as his other hand trails along your leg and up your thighs, lifting the skirt of your dress up in the process and exposing your skin to the cool air. You’re mortified, you want to do something but you’re completely incapacitated, and a weak sob escapes you. His face gets closer to yours and you feel the tears threatening to leave your eyes as he whispers.

“Scream and it’ll be the last thing you do. You wouldn’t want people to see you like this, now, would you?”

You close your eyes when his hand reaches for the band of your panties. You want to be somewhere else, anywhere else. He lets out a disgusting, breathy laugh, “The mighty Lord Ancunín’s reputation would crumble if people knew that his slut got passed around. Can you imagine the scandal? How could anyone want to ally with him when he can’t even get a hold of his bitch.” “Please,” your voice is a shaky whisper, “I’m sorry I offended you earlier, just– Let me go, please.”

“Oh, no no, you only get to leave when I’ve had what I want. First, I fuck you, then I fuck up all his alliances. Bastard will have nothing left.”

Just when his hand slips inside your panties, you feel the crushing weight of his body against yours suddenly being lifted and you start breathing again. When you open your eyes, you see him held back with a knife to his throat. That’s when you recognise your partner of the night.

“What the fuck?!” The man says.

“You have no idea how much I want to kill you right now,” Astarion growls. “If you wanna leave this place alive you better go, now. I won’t repeat myself.”

Following those words, Astarion pushes him away from you, down against the ground, only for the man to stumble to his feet and quickly run back to the ballroom without looking back. Once out of sight, Astarion kneels down to you, quickly looking over your shivering form before holding your face softly between his hands.

“Hey, hey - look at me. Where did he hurt you?”

Your lips try to form words, but nothing comes out. Instead, you break down in violent sobs, nesting yourself against Astarion’s chest. He holds you protectively against him for a moment, as if you were made of the most fragile glass, before pulling away to wrap you in his coat and guiding you up and away from this farce of a gathering.

“Let’s get you home, love.”

-

Halfway starts with happiness for me

Halfway house, lost kitten in the street

Hit me where it hurts, I'm coming home to lose

Kitten on the catwalk, high-heeled shoes

-

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @nyx-knox @anacdoce

[clovenhooves-dot-org]

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[baiwu-jinji]

Hello! I’ve read your thoughts on TGCF and I really enjoy them.

I also like the cultural references and knowledge you bring to the table. It’s something that gets lost in English translation and learning about it just adds another layer to enjoy about TGCF.

Recently I saw some asks/answers compare Hualian to another couple. I haven’t read the other story 😅 but I have heard similar opinions of Hualian being very idealized, too perfect, unrealistic or all three.

I’ve been very curious about this part as I also have a vague memory of someone noting that even the author says Hualian is like a fairytale.

I was surprised about this because their softness, respect and unconditional love for each other is something I really love about them.🌸🌸🌸

Could you share more of your perspective on this?

Is it the waiting 800 years part? The unconditional acceptance and devotion on Hua Cheng’s part(and Xie Lian’s side too)? The lack of arguments between them?

For my part , obviously 800 years is a fantastical amount of time to remain in love and devoted to someone. Especially considering how little time Hua Cheng spent with Xie Lian in the beginning. I am totally willing to suspend my belief for these two points and chalk it up to Hua Cheng’s personality. I also think Hua Cheng’s love for Xie Lian grew and matured as he did.

It’s really interesting too that those very positive traits - unconditional devotion, faith and love (not obedience because honestly Hua cheng quiet frequently disobeys😅) while more obviously written in a positive light can be explored in fanfiction from the other end. And I don’t mean obsession or stalking, but more like loving someone to the point of your own detriment.

And Hualian, though certainly they didn’t really argue in the book, they did have disagreements. (And I think in the revised novel, of at least the translated part I read, they do get a more serious argument)

To me, their easy acceptance and the unconditional love aspect can be chalked up to their personality, life experiences and the fact they both have lived centuries long.

Anyhow, I know I rambled on a bit. 😅😅😅

But I am really curious on your feedback about this or a link if you answered this more in detail with a similar ask.

Thank you! 😊

Hi! :) Thank you for your kind words and sorry about the really late reply ><  MXTX once wrote about a dream she had where a voice told her that TGCF is like a “a little red clay stove” (I translated MXTX’s dream here). The literary reference of “a little red clay stove” symbolises the warmth and comfort of domestic life and the joy of friendship and companionship, which I think is what MXTX wants Hualian’s relationship to stand for - Hualian is meant to be warm, tender, homely and cosy, with as little friction as possible in the relationship. It is a very idealised relationship (how can it not be with HC’s unfading love for and faith in XL and XL’s instinctual and almost instant trust in HC), and that’s why people love Hualian, because we long to be loved with such unconditional acceptance and unwavering devotion ourselves, and we want to find someone we could love with unconditional acceptance and unwavering devotion, whether such love is possible in real life or not. Hualian’s success and popularity is clearly not due to it being a gritty and brutally honest interrogation of the complexities of romantic relationships in realistic contexts, but because it is the sort of ideal relationship of pure bliss people dream of having. Therefore I can’t say Hualian’s idealisation of romantic relationships is one of its literary flaws because it’s never aiming to be otherwise, and its idealistic nature is one of its main selling points.

This is a digression but what I find interesting about Hualian is this sort of paradox in HC being both a lover and a worshipper - to worship a god is to worship his divine infallibility, but to love a human is to love his human fallibility (but then Borges said that “to fall in love is to create a religion that has a fallible god”, so that resolves the paradox?). And it makes me think about what HC means when he says to XL “I’m forever your most devoted believer.” What is it that HC eternally believes in as XL's believer? It’s not XL’s infallibility, or perfection, or omnipotence, or incorruptibility, or inexhuastable goodness that HC believes in, because XL is neither of those things, so what is it that HC believes in? Maybe what HC forever believes in is the fact that he will love XL forever - maybe that’s what HC is a believer of…

I hope this answer makes sense, and in short I meant to say that I can’t deny Hualian is idealised, but that’s what makes them appealing.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

CONGRATS ON 500 FOLLOWERS WOOO!! its been a little over a year since ive found your writting, how time flies T-T Could you possibly write a platonic gojo & reader oneshot where its just snippets of Gojo's first year teaching and the reader is a 1st year student not part of jujutsu society? I'd prefer if the mc had a somewhat introverted personality while being grumpy bc of being forced to attend the school. U can change their behaviour to what u feel more comfortable writing if u want tho!!

── THE SCHOLAR

Synopsis: A short snippet of how Satoru Gojo convinces you to be his first student in full.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Gojo & Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2.6k

Content Warnings: not many tbh…reader is a d1 hater of gojo and ino ig?? also just a hater in general LMAO she does NOT want to be there

A/N: wow anon i can’t believe it’s been a year since you found my account and that you’ve stuck around for so long, that means a lot to me!! i apologize for how long this took me and how short it is 😫 it was a bit difficult for me to write gojo as a teacher without feeling like i was just rehashing his dynamic w a previous y/n i’ve written 😓 but i hope this is somewhat close to what you wanted?? also idk if you’ve read my fic pomegranate ink or not but i did throw in a reference to it at one point so props to anyone who catches that hehe

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

You weren’t really sure what cause your classmate had to be as pleased as he was, but for some reason, the boy was bouncing in his seat, scribbling down notes with the fervor of a scholar — though you were quite certain that he was nothing of the sort, at least not when his test scores were taken into consideration. 

“Hey,” you whispered, tossing an eraser at his head when your teacher’s back was turned. “Ino. What’s the big deal? We’re not even learning anything yet, so what are you writing down?”

“Are you kidding me? Gojo just told us an entire story of his past. That’s valuable information!” Ino said. You frowned at him.

“It’s not valuable information, because he’s so prone to embellishment that he’s all but an author at this point. Besides, do you think you, or anyone else for that matter, will ever face seven first grades and come out the winner, without even a scratch?” you said.

“He’s the strongest sorcerer in the world, though, so it’s feasible for him,” Ino said.

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Maybe for him, but not for anyone else. This is just bragging under the guise of an educational opportunity. We’re never going to be powerful enough to replicate such a feat, so what’s the use in wasting our time talking about it?”

“You’re such a spoil-sport,” Ino huffed. “We’re the first students to ever get to learn from Satoru Gojo, and somehow, you’re complaining about it? That’s ridiculous no matter what way you put it!”

“Is everything okay?” 

Both you and Ino jumped as Satoru Gojo appeared in front of your desks, peering down at you over the lenses of his dark glasses. He didn’t seem annoyed that you were talking while he was ‘teaching’; in fact, he looked excited, as if he wanted to join in the conversation as well. You could imagine him pulling up a chair and resting his chin in his hands as he gossiped with you, and it made you scoff.

“Everything’s fine. We were just wondering when you were actually going to start the lesson,” you said.

“She was wondering that!” Ino rushed to clarify. You shot him a dirty look out of the corner of your eye, which he ignored — you supposed loyalty didn’t mean much to him, as you two weren’t really friends and therefore couldn’t inspire much loyalty in one another regardless. “I was telling her how fascinated I am by the story you were telling!”

“Suck-up,” you hissed.

“Stupid,” he hissed back. Gojo clapped his hands, returning to the front of the classroom with a distinctly unacademic swagger to his step that made you internally fume.

“No worries, we’re just getting to that part! Today, we’ll go over some basic curse theory,” he said, drawing simplistic shapes on the chalkboard to accompany his explanations. As usual, Ino was absorbed by the standard bullshit Gojo spouted, but you found it to be so boring that you actually began to nod off, catching up on the sleep you had missed last night due to a mission which had run later than expected.

Unlike Ino, who had been automatically enrolled in the school because of his family lineage, you had been scouted as a fresh talent by Satoru Gojo himself. It had been a long conversation, and he had only managed to convince you in the end by telling you all about Kaito Hinode, the well-regarded first year teacher who you would study under. Hinode was a sorcerer you believed you wouldn’t have trouble respecting, and so you begrudgingly agreed to attend the school and give the whole notion of ‘jujutsu sorcery’ a shot.

Then Hinode retired, mere weeks before you were set to begin at the school, and his replacement was revealed to be none other than that irreverent, inept, and decidedly unserious man who you had secretly hoped you would not see much more of: Satoru Gojo.

You didn’t even want to be a sorcerer in active duty, but the theoretical side of it interested you to an almost unhealthy extent. You spent days upon days studying the workings of curses and cursed energy, to the point that you could be considered almost an expert. That was the only thing cheering you about coming to the school, that you’d get to discuss with individuals on your level, and so it had been such a heartbreaking disappointment when Gojo, who cared little about the causes and more about the results, was the only proper sorcerer you came into frequent contact with.

The other teachers didn’t have time to entertain your pestering, far too busy with their own students, which meant that Gojo was really your only option. And of course you had tried — really, you had. You had presented him with your questions and ideas, but he had only made a face and told you that studying curse theory to this extent wouldn’t help anyone, and least of all yourself.

He wanted you to learn how to fight, but you didn’t care for that. You didn’t want to fight. If you could spend the rest of your days shut away in a study, reading your books and taking notes on them, then you’d be quite content. You were reluctant to go on missions, even if you were ten times better than your peers, and you often dragged your feet heading into your practical classes. More than once, Ino had had to hoist you over his shoulders and sprint to the training field so that you were not both late, and you knew that you probably shouldn’t be so harsh on him given that, but because it meant that you had to exert yourself on the battlefield instead of rereading your favorite essays, his good intentions only made you resent him more.

“You know, you could really be a great sorcerer,” Gojo said to you one day. You were sitting on a bench while Ino did exercises, ink smudging your hand as you meticulously annotated a book that the principal had given to you. You blinked up at him, amazed once again at how tall he was. He blocked out the sunlight, his shadow looming over you in a way that would’ve been ominous if he wasn’t so typically harmless.

“Hm?” you said, returning to your book when you realized he wasn’t going to say anything of importance. “Sure, I guess I could be.”

“Becoming a first grade isn’t an impossibility for you. It’s something attainable, which is incredibly rare for someone as young as you,” he continued.

“Right,” you said.

“Do you care about that, though?” he said.

“Nope,” you said. “I have no interest in being a first grade sorcerer. It just means more dangerous missions, doesn’t it? I don’t care about all of that.”

“It also means a higher salary,” he said.

“Probably not high enough to make up for the risks,” you said.

“Well, it’s pretty high, though only you can decide if it makes up for the risks or not,” he said.

“Listen, sir, I’m only even here because you told me I could further my studies with people renowned in their fields. Do you mind telling me what field you’re renowned in? Because for some unfathomable reason, you’ve ended up as my teacher,” you said.

“I’m…the strongest sorcerer? In the world?” he said, though the way he phrased it made it seem like he was asking you instead of telling. You shrugged.

“That’s an intrinsic talent. You didn’t learn to be that way; you were just born with it. Sure, you had to practice, but practicing and studying are different. Anyways, even if you are the strongest soldier, I think we’ve established that that’s not something I’m interested in. I was supposed to be under the tutelage of wise and experienced professors, but instead, I’m being instructed by you, who’s barely even a few years my elder and has never taught before,” you said, closing your book and holding it to your chest, smiling tightly at him. “I’m staying here because my parents already paid the tuition fee, but I’m not happy about it. Just so you know.”

“If you’re a first grade sorcerer, you also get more access to information,” he said after a moment. “Stuff behind a million clearances that only people of a sufficiently high rank get access to.”

You froze, your eyes brightening at the thought of this forbidden knowledge. You already knew that you were missing several key pieces in your preliminary research, but no matter how hard you looked, you had never been able to find the answers to the seemingly obvious questions. Was this why? Was it really because you did not have the seniority to warrant the understanding?

“Is that truly the case?” you said.

“I can’t help you in terms of books and learning and all of that boring stuff,” he said. “But if you put in a bit more effort, I can turn you into someone that the higher ups listen to, instead of the other way around.”

You mulled this over before nodding, standing up and leaving your book on the bench.

“Okay. I’ll do as you tell me to, but like I said earlier, I’m not going to be happy about it,” he said.

“Who cares? You can be the gloomiest girl alive!” he said, reaching out to ruffle your hair. “Let’s work together, Y/N!”

“I’m your student,” you reminded him. “Not your friend.” 

He waved you off. “You’re old enough to be both. Now let’s get to training!”

It was horrible, being Gojo’s favorite student. For one, Ino was jealous — although soon enough he found another mentor to cotton on to, and then your relationship with him mended into something a little more cordial and polite. For another, Gojo had this strange penchant for throwing you into impossible situations and watching in glee as you struggled to get out of them.

His missions also tended to be errands disguised as pressing matters. Once, he made you run around Tokyo, stopping in various stores so that you could improve your conditioning — stores which just so happened to carry the items on his week’s grocery list. Another time, you single-handedly had to exorcise every single curse harassing a nearby bakery — a bakery which just so happened to carry a specialty flavor of cake that was his new favorite. Whenever you complained about the silly chores, he asked if the exercise had made you stronger or not. You would begrudgingly admit that it had, and then he’d tell you that you should just think of it as a win-win scenario and stop whining.

“Y/N!” That was how it always began: he would shout your name as he entered the classroom, usually accompanying it with a wad of paper or some other, similarly harmless object sent flying your way. You’d catch it in one hand and glare at him.

“What?” This would prompt him to explain his ridiculous plan for the day, after which he would turn to Ino and hand him his assignments. He had gotten special permission from the school to train you in this non-orthodox manner, given that you were so far ahead in any material that giving you homework would be redundant and a waste of time for all parties involved. For his part, Ino did not complain, for he had long ago lost interest in training with Gojo, who was admittedly terrible at actually explaining anything of note.

You made a good pair, you and Gojo, or at least as good of a pair as could be made given the circumstances. As the year went on, you grew more and more familiar with the reasoning behind his atypical style, and though you would never cease to complain, it was more lighthearted, a habit instead of a genuine gripe.

“You’ll be promoted any day now,” Gojo told you on the last day of your first year — the last day that he would be your director supervisor. “They’re waiting for you to grow a bit older, but it’s maturity you lack, not talent. If you participate in the Exchange Event next year, you’ll get the recommendations you need without a problem.”

“If?” you said, picking up on what he had left unsaid. “Isn’t it mandatory? Why wouldn’t I participate?”

“It’s mandatory if you’re living on campus, yes,” he said.

“And what cause would I have to not be living on campus?” you said.

“You’re interested in curse theory, aren’t you?” he said. When you nodded, he sighed. “Still? I was hoping you’d have moved on by now…well, I can get an alternate course of study approved for you by the principal, if you want.”

“An alternate course? What would that entail?” you said.

“One of my fellow special grade sorcerers, Yuki Tsukumo, specializes in researching the exact types of things you find so fascinating. If she agrees to it, then you could serve as an assistant of sorts to her. It’ll be like an internship or something. She won’t let you slack off — it’ll be much worse than anything I put you through, that’s for certain — but if that’s the path you want to take, then it’s an option,” he said.

You had never loved him quite as much as you did in that moment. Without even taking a moment to think about it, you nodded enthusiastically, beaming at him.

“Yes! Yes, Gojo, sir, that would be ideal. I’ve read some of the proposals Tsukumo’s submitted to the higher ups, and oh, if I got to work with her, it would be such a dream,” you said.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he said. “She still has to agree to it.”

“Do you think she’ll say no?” you said.

“Maybe at first,” he said. “After she meets you, though? No way. You’re my pupil, after all. You’ll be the most impressive student she’s ever taken under her wing — and I can attest to the fact that you’ll be far and away the most dedicated.”

You supposed you had some things to thank him for, then. The corners of your lips twitched as you bowed your head at him, causing him to grunt in confusion; after all, you had never shown him such deference before.

“You’re not that bad as a teacher,” you said. “You know, for it being your first time, I think you did alright.”

“Yeah?” he said eagerly before composing himself, clearing his throat before speaking again. “Yeah, I guess you turned out just fine.”

“Thank you for everything, Gojo,” you said. “Please know that you’ll always have an ally in me.”

His black sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, just a bit, but enough that you could see the way his eyes softened ever so slightly. Then he reached out and socked you in the arm affectionately.

“Considering how often I butt heads with the higher ups, I might call upon you one day,” he said. “Don’t make that kind of promise lightly, is what I’m saying.”

“I’m not making it lightly,” you said. “If you call upon me, I’ll come. That’s what you do for someone who’s changed your life, right?”

Even the shades he had shoved back into position could not hide the breadth of his smile nor the depth of his fondness. He nodded, slowly at first and then quickly, like he wanted you to be very sure of his agreement.

“True,” he said, and then he patted you on the head. “Guess that means you can call on me whenever you want, too. I’ll be there.”

You smiled at him over your shoulder as you left for the summer and thought that you might never be so fortunate — or unfortunate — as to have a teacher quite like him again.

[ryssbelle]

Drew a bunch of Marinettes in a bunch of different artists styles it was a lot of fun!!

Artists who's styles I mimicked: @buggachat @hamsternamedmarinette @ladybeug @sabertoothwalrus and @anna-scribbles all epic artists 🤟😎

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Shadow Day 6

Shadow Beast

The Twilight Princess fan in me really came out on this one huh? I blame the sleep deprivation. We never quite addressed the effects of the Twili Magic on Twilight and how it's only sheer force of will and the fact he's so darn kind, Midna's influence and Time teaching him the Song of Healing first being the main factor in making sure he doesn't fall huh? Even more so than the One Cutscene. We also need to talk more about the fact we technically kill Midna's people and how by the end of it all Twi is so changed by the Twilight Realm who's it's own can of worms that, much like Time he can't quite go home as himself me thinks, as a treat to myself

Mostly Twilight x Reader, this goes out to all of the folks who never quite recovered from Twilight Princess and the fact we never got that sequel (I mean it gave us BOTW and TOTK and Wild, but at what cost?), but can be read as Link x Reader either on the platonic or romantic.

Don't think there's any warning this time but might edit later if needed.

Actually yeah there is one warning

TW:

References to body horror typical to Twilight Princess, though I recommend not reading it I'd you're squeamish period.

Even after so long, you and Twilight could still remember the beauty and solemnity of the Twilight Realm, with it’s zircon skies with clouds of trapped fire and rains of viper obsidian.

The silence of the infection upon the realm of light broken only by the echoes of the howling elegy of the Twili and Interlopers who came before creeping over the land like rot and wither over flowers, the lament of the lost spirits of the people and animals of Hyrule falling over your spirit like a shroud, a shared hymm from two worlds reality had been twisted, only both of it’s princess, one filled the luster of empyreal sorrow in her mind and one with the scorch abyssal fury in her heart knowing to see the reflective tragedy befallen to their people. With Link as the one who restored the memory of what once was in both worlds as divinity and calamity sang in his bones and you a witness to the restoration of harmony to the discordant symphony, the two different songs of light and shadow refusing to let go of either of you in an eternal duet.

(Once touched by magic, it shall never leave the one if holds onto Twilight may have been the one with the Beast in his soul, with the howl of a wolf, the bite of shades in his veins and the lament of innocents taking precedence over anything purely because he learned how to silence the whispers of the one’s who made a grab for heaven’s throat and we’re pushed in the cracks of reality for their prideful vánitas even as he could taste it in the back of his tongue, twining around his ribs and overgrowing into his shattered mirror heart like vines, flowering with the divinity and eternal nature of the Hero’s Spirit, already having the hunt of the Fierce Deity in it’s veins and the remains of cursed divinity welcoming the new aspect merrily so he could bear it. The song of the innocent wrongly punished among the sinners rang into your mind, scratched at your skin and dug it’s claws around your throat, chocking you with sorrow and regret, more willing to leave gouges than to let go of someone’s who’s looked into the reverse side of the sacred realm and wept with grief for it’s people and the curse of it’s beauty.

It would never leave you, Link or Zelda, who learned who love the darkness the way Midna did, madness and unsightly delight and all.)

While the people of Hyrule merely became trapped as observers at best, if they were lucky, Midna’s raging grief and resentment quickly became obvious, once she revealed that rotten Zant had done to her and her people, twisted into a new form, distorted in body and trapped in mind like the animals and beasts of Hyrule, their pain driving them in becoming feral attack hounds for the usurper, their howling screams as much sorrow, wailing in an attempt to let their agonized, tortured souls to escape from it’s mouth, a futile attempt to flee from the strain of reality forgetting their true form in favor of Zant’s twisted design, of being used as sentient canvases for cruelty and ruthlessness, of their will being stepped over in favor of corrupting recreation.

Of how it only didn’t quaff down at Midna’s mind because of the nature of her ephemerality, fully beloved by the Realm of Darkness, of how she loathed him for it and wouldn’t wish her fate of that of her people’s on any living or dead soul, once she came to love the Realm of Light through Zelda’s sacrifice.

Which was why, when you saw three of the victims of the telltale twisting from darkness utilized with the intent to drive one insane, a familiar looking plate of stone engraved on the remains of ashes from their identity, the curling of distorted, solid darkness making crooked mishapen manes, bent out of shape from their too long torso and long, long arms adorned with twitching, deformed claws, you feel very justified in way your blood froze, holding onto Wild’s arms and yanking with all you had so his shot will miss, his yelp of surprise swallowed by the bone cracking, blood curdling screech from one of the beasts as a Skyward Strike grazed it’s petrified flesh.

You feel something warm drip down your ears, taste the promise of violence and the cry of lost souls on the back of your tongue and swallow it down as the memory of the Twilight Realm attempted to bite and crack your ribcage to quaff down your heart, to devour it bones and all, calling out in desperation, “Don’t! That’s a person!”

Sky freezes, as still as a statue, Legend curses the heavens crimson in a way you are so glad Wind isn’t around to hear as he retreats Twilight snarls, the wolf in him revolted and disgusted, you wonder if the Twilight is singing in his mind too as he restrains himself from reaching for the crystal as nails just a tad too sharp invite droplets of blood to one hand, grimm as a graveyard “We need to get them together anyway, felling just one won’t be enough.”

You grimace, releasing Wild, keeping your eye on the Shadow Beasts and another on your group, pointedly not mentioning the twitch in Four, amethyst clouding his gaze and the prism of his eyes turning gray with memories you and Twilight both knew all too well, of the grimace in Time’s otherwise stony countenance, you’d wished to avoid bloodshed of whoever was turned against their will, but you and Twilight both knew that might not be possible, death, unfortunately, might be the greatest mercy you can grant these poor souls.

(The Twilight is harmonizing in your ears, jeering, you feel the Interlopers insanity and the Twili’s lament on your teeth. As lovely as it could be cruel, the merry feeling upon meeting, the sorrow at a parting.

If you ever see the Shadow, you might just try indulging the echo by offering it’s blood as tribute. You'd make it hurt. The fact it learned the spell used to deform reality in such a way was cruel and vile.)

“Legend, how is your magic?” shoots Warriors, analyzing, calculating, it snaps the purple back into Four’s gaze, brings his mind back to focus as he reaches into his inventory for his Moon Pearl, Twilight is circling the beasts with single minded purpose, herding them together and prowling as he would as a wolf, Wild thankfully listened to your warning and had switched from the more destructive Flame and Lightning Arrows to ice ones. It doesn’t contain them for long but it gives a few precious seconds to strategize.

Legend catches on, switching to the Ice Rod on one hand and grasping his own Moon Pearl with the other, Sky has another Skyward Strike ready, but doesn’t release it, you switch from your sword to accepting a Magic Rod tossed at you from Wild, “Good enough.”

You breath in shakily, the symphony of the Twilight Realm has quieted, more lament than anthem as it’s Hero steps back, returning to your side, he nods grimly, “... Then, let’s end this quickly.”

You know your will boys will do their best to heal them, and failing that, you hope that they’ll hear the requiem of the Twili rather than the lament once they’re at peace, that they'll find some form of threnody.

It is a horrible thing, to be forced to die as a beast.

[headphonemouse]

Usually I don't buy into self sacrifice in fiction because how much can one human life really be worth, when so many have been lost already? But the way that orv sets up Kim Dokja's self sacrifices, sure it has its own in universe reasons, but the reason it sold me on why those sacrifices were necessary and worked was that subjective feeling of equivalent exchange. He wanted to save his world (companions), so he sacrificed himself. This is fair payment because he exists as 'the world' to everyone else. Just. Jung Heewon confronting Anna Croft with "you want to save the world? I do too. He is the world I wish to save" (paraphrased) and Kim Dokja obtaining the story 'One Who is Loved by All' and Lee Sookyung shaving off years of her life for him before and during the scenarios and him becoming a protective and nurturing presence to his kids and showing Lee Hyunsung how to use his strength to protect justice and giving Yoo Joonghyuk hope and giving meaning to Han Sooyoung's writing and decades of waiting to meet him just by continuing to exist. There are so many other people that he means so much to and I'll never get over how beloved he is, before during and after the scenarios. The whole time! The whole time he has been loved. He isn't always able to see it but it's always been there. Meeting him is like being unable to imagine someone more worthy of love while at the same time thinking that he's not particularly remarkable. It's the way that he is cherished and returns that kindness that makes him incredible (The Little Prince and his conclusions about the uniqueness of his rose come to mind. It wasn't mentioned in ORV, but the Little Prince played a significant role in TWATF so I think some of those themes carry over to ORV because SingShong seem to really like that story)

[tim-official]

the current trend of "tumblr users embarrassing themselves by proudly announcing why they don't listen to any music made by black people" is really astounding.

i cannot help but think this is a direct result of liberal White Guilt and how people have interpreted "anti-racism" as form of cultural self-segregation - the kind of person who thinks trying to cook chicken curry is cultural appropriation, or sends white people anon hate for wearing a kimono (yes, this kind of discourse happened). like, "oh, no, i could never participate in this culture, i'd get my evil white hands all over it! it would be more Progressive if I only did White things."

if you're a poc you've seen this, i'm sure - this deer-in-the-headlights stare you can get from white people when you play music / show art / share a story / anything that is Racially Coded, this total refusal to actually engage with it out of fear that it is in some way Wrong for them to have any opinion on it. because they read somewhere that it's bad to use AAVE but the only lesson they actually learned from that is "gotcha, white people are not allowed to interact with other cultures as punishment for my White Crimes. this helps to fill up the gaping pit of my white guilt and makes me one of the Good People." this transforms their discomfort around non-white cultures (black culture, especially, i should add) into a kind of virtue

anyway if you are white and reading this. go listen to some fucking haliu mergia. ethiopian jazz. will knock your dick right off. go listen to rap or reggae or bollywood and have a genuine reaction to it - like, an actual, from-the-heart reaction. you are allowed to not like some of it. but you will definitely like at least a little. yes, you can compare it to lemon demon (or whatever) if that helps you get into it and that's your only point of reference. maybe don't say that part out loud. but don't, like, separate yourself from it, like you are seeing it in a museum and the only polite thing to do is go "ahh, huh, very interesting, so much culture here."

[clownboy-yeehonk]

.

[vhstown]

please stop scrolling and take the time to read this.

i don't think people understand the extent of the horror happening in palestine right now. "death" means nothing to people because of desensitisation so let me just tell you what white phosphorus is. it's being used in israeli munitions and has been and will continue to be fired across gaza and the palestinian borders.

white phosphorus burns when it comes into contact with oxygen (at nearly 800°C or 1500°F. the human body can withstand ~50°C for reference.) the air you breathe in ignites and it is near impossible extinguish. it sticks to clothing and skin and is very difficult to remove because it will continue to ignite in air. it burns flesh up to the bone and even past the bone because it penetrates tissue and is absorbed VERY easily. if you inhale it it'll destroy your respiratory tract and lungs. it can cause failure in multiple organs including the liver, kidneys and heart. it is being released in one of the most densely populated places on earth.

the only way to treat someone exposed to white phosphorus is to submerge them in saline or water and to pick out the substance with forceps, and when you undress a wound the substance can re-ignite. this is just ONE weapon that is being used to kill palestinian people right now. palestine does not have access to medical care, humanitarian aid, power, or internet. their hospitals are being bombed. gaza is one of the most densely populated places in the world with over 50% of the population being children. many children are the sole survivors of their families. there are videos of children experiencing panic attacks and symptoms of ptsd. the fact that israel has committed war crimes in plain sight means that we can only imagine what will happen to the palestinians in complete darkness.

israel has and will continue to deny this. your interests and fandom will still be here, you will wake up tomorrow morning and see your friends and family, but an entire nation of people are being wiped off the map. being silent is being complacent. reblog, spread information, tell people in real life, attend protests, sign petitions, call your government offices, at the very least be angry and upset and horrified because once you become numb and indifferent and hopeless the oppressors will have already won.

what's happening right now is more than a genocide and once it becomes a part of history we'll wonder how the world let this happen. genocides have been part of all nations. just because it is far away does not mean you don't have to be concerned. the fact that YOUR governments and YOUR idols and the people around YOU are supporting the mass eradication of an entire group of people should scare you. it shouldn't make you feel anything less than sick and angry and disgusted. DO something about it, no matter how small you feel your voice is, because palestinians no longer have one.

[edit] links to some helpful reblogs: one & two

post on how you can help palestine

learn about palestine with this masterlist of info

+ a further reblog of mine

[edit 2] about palestinians "not having a voice" at the time i wrote this post internet connection was cut off entirely and even journalists weren't able to report for a period of time — that is all i meant by that. they of course have a voice and i never meant to undermine how people are risking their lives in gaza to get information out there and i apologise if thats what people took from it, it was not my intention but it is entirely my bad. please continue to spread information and updates from gaza as they come.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

A fair payment [W. W.]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]

some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)

“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.

The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 

However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.

“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.

Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.

"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."

“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.

Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.

“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”

“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"

"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.

Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.

“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.

"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."

You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.

Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.

“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”

“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.

Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.

Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.

“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.

“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”

“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”

“And you are a great dreamer”

“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.

“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”

“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”

“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.

“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"

Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.

A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.

"What's that?"

“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.

You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.

At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.

You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?

“How does it taste?”

“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”

“A special and secret ingredient”

"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”

“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”

You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.

“We could say yes”

“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.

A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.

“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.

As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.

[scribefindegil]

I love first-person because it’s about what the narrator chooses to tell. What do they focus on? What do they leave out? What can you learn from reading between the lines? Are they lying to you? Are they lying to themself? It’s great for unreliable narrators and for epistolary storytelling! It’s intimate but there’s still a distance because you aren’t really seeing the narrator’s thoughts--you’re just seeing the story that they’ve constructed.

I love second-person because it’s a conversation. Does “you” mean a broad, indefinite “you”? Does “you” really mean “I” but with plausible deniability? Does “you” mean one specific person? Can they hear the narrator? Do they know the narrator? What is the relationship here? Who’s talking? Who’s listening?

I love third-person limited because it’s focused and intimate. What does the world look like from inside this character’s head? What are they seeing? What are they feeling? It doesn’t grant them the privacy that first-person does; the narrative isn’t something they’ve chosen, it’s invisible and inescapable. As a reader you’re not watching so much as astral projecting.

(I love singular point of view because of how much it leans into that limitation. You’re not getting the whole story; you’re not seeing anything unless this character sees it. How do you embrace that? What do you do with the gaps around the edges? How does that define--or warp--the events that they’re experiencing?

I love multiple points of view because of how it broadens your understanding of the story and the world. If two point-of-view characters react in opposite ways to the same thing, what does that tell you about them? About the world? How does it feel to spend time inside a character’s head and then see them from someone’s else’s point of view? How do all of these viewpoints work together?) 

I love third-person omniscient because the narrative is a character. It’s great for stories that know they’re stories! It allows for a camaraderie between the narrator and the reader! It allows for wider and more cinematic descriptions because you’re not limited to what a specific person can see! It lets you look at the characters from outside while still giving you the option to delve into their heads because you have full control over what you’re focusing on!

And I love authors who can combine viewpoints in ways you wouldn’t think would work but manage to pull it off! Stories with multiple point-of-view characters where one is first-person and the others are third! Stories that combine first- and second-person! Stories where the omniscient narrator suddenly refers to themself in the first person! Stories where you realize halfway through that you were wrong about who was narrating it!

Isn’t it fantastic that there are so many different ways to tell stories!!!!

[e-the-village-cryptid]

my first reading in my African history class this year is about why using “tribe” to refer to ethnic groups stems from a racist desire to make African conflicts sound primitive or stemming from a desire to pretend that these are just ancient conflicts that have always existed. great article and I also feel like I’m vicariously experiencing the bullshittery that this author has been subjected to from people they’ve tried to talk to about this. like the article remains extremely professional but you can just hear in the tone that they’re talking through gritted teeth, you can practically see the customer service smile

[ID: a screenshot from a section of the article titled “But why not use ‘tribe’? Answers to common arguments.” Under the bullet point for the argument “Africans talk about themselves in terms of tribes” is written, “Commonly when Africans learn English they are taught that tribe is the term that English-speakers will recognize. But what underlying meaning in their own languages are Africans translating when they say tribe? Take the word isizwe in Zulu. In English, writers often refer to the Zulu tribe, whereas in Zulu the word for the Zulu as a group would be isizwe. Often Zulu-speakers will use the English word tribe because that's what they think English speakers expect, or what they were taught in school. Yet Zulu linguists say that a better translation of isizwe is nation or people.” /end ID] 

translation: “ ‘Oh ho ho but some Africans themselves say tribe!’ You dipshit. You fucking donkey. When someone has a word that means “nation” or “people” in their own language but then when they learn English YOU TELL THEM IT TRANSLATES TO “TRIBE” then THAT WILL BE THE WORD THEY USE. Maybe if you LISTENED TO THE LINGUISTS OF THAT GROUP you’d have more accurate information. Asshole.”

each point is repeated over and over with like five different examples because you just know there are dipshits out there who will keep arguing.

to the anonymous author of this article for the Africa Policy Information Center I hope you have a good day every day and experience fewer people being assholes about this, your patience is actually legendary

[hoshigray]

𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄 [& 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲 𝑴𝑬] 𝐔𝐏!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: It's bad enough you got a crush on your gym instructor, Toji; however, it gets worse when things become too close and personal for this relationship...But who says you shouldn't get a little praise for your hard work?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: personal trainer! Toji x fem! reader - explicit contents; minors DNI - unrequited/crushing » mutual pining - sex in a public space (gym locker room + showers) - shower sex - thigh riding - oral (m! + f! receiving) - ball massaging - face + throat-fucking - breast fondling + nipple play - against a wall + upstanding citizen + standing 69 positions - praise - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - cervix fucking - pet names (angel, baby, doll, dollface, good girl, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - unprotected sex (doesn't shoot inside tho) - overstimulation - cameos: Haibara and Ino (gym manager and employee) - the reader accidentally walks into the men's locker room (they're a bit dumb, forgive them, lol) - mention of sweat spit and tears.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.4k (i'm about to lose my mind, bro.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: mannnnnn, the way this draft has been collecting dust, it was supposed to be released on Dec!! ofc my first fic back would be for toji lmao. anyways, i hope you enjoy, and tysm for 4.7k y'all are so sweet ;;w;; and thank yeww @ramonathinks for beta-reading, mwah mwah

“That one was weak; do another three.”

“Gahh– …You’re such an asshole, Fushiguro.”

“Heh, like that’s anythin’ new. C’mon, let’s go!”

We’re counting down to the last weeks of the year, and so many people have already promised affirmations for themselves in the upcoming year. In terms of this year, you can’t say much. You’ve done your work, hung out with the same people since last year, and probably learned to spoil yourself more. Maybe another thing you can be proud of is that you crossed some TV series off your “get-to-watch” list, so go you!

Although, besides those minimal things, there is one change in your life that you’ve committed yourself to. One thing that you didn’t expect to be so in tune with throughout the past half of the year. It started as a forced challenge because your friend Miwa needed someone to motivate her to maintain her gym membership. What was once something you’d thought a one-time thing gradually became something you enjoy — something you felt proud doing!

Not only has your knowledge of your body and how to keep it in good shape improved over half a year, but your love for the community has grown more and more. The gym you go to feels like a second home, with many people you’ve gotten to know and befriend along your journey. Even the manager, Haibara Yu, practically treats you like a sibling after seeing you every other day. The same goes for the front desk associate, Ino, who is the goofiest goofball you’ve ever met (not to mention the best drinking buddy). 

But – if you really had to pick – there is one person who has made this experience more enjoyable and worthwhile. “Hahhh!! There, I did them! Aren’t you supposed to be my spotter, not a shit-talker?”

“I’m doin’ my job, aren’t I?” Toji Fushiguro, your gym instructor for the past few months, has been a driving force in your physical journey. With his help, you’ve been disciplining yourself in and outside of the facility, maintaining a good diet, and keeping your body active in a balanced fashion. The gratitude you have for him supersedes all. But above all else, throughout the years, the two of you have gotten pretty close and know a good chunk about each other to call yourselves friends – at least, that’s what you’ve been doing. “Alright, that’s enough lifting for today; time for stretches.”

Aside from a friend, there is something else you refer to him as – something you’d rather die than admit out loud. Toji, your trainer, is your gym crush. Well, your crush in general. 

Can you really blame yourself, though? Look at the man! When you first look at him, his physique alone is enough to keep you staring at him for hours and hours on end. Strong, bulky arms that look like they could pick up five treadmills in one sitting and with veins that decorate up to his forearm can effortlessly grab the attention of the normal eye. He’s wearing his black fitted tee, so tight that it was as if it was vacuum sealed to perfectly showcase the outline of his abdomen, ribs, and pectorals. And it doesn’t help from the back view either; you can’t count how many times you fell into a short trance from admiring his gorgeous back, from his trapezius to his waist. Every time the man flexes his biceps and triceps, all you can do is internally thank the gods for sculpting such a man to be in front of you. And those beautiful thighs and calves shaped from his black leggings and shorts? Damn.

But the thing about him that has you squeak more than a mouse are his eyes. Forest green orbs that can shift into a stern concentration whenever he’s working on a machine or when he’s observing your form and finds whatever needs correcting. Then there are times when they are mellow and soft when you’re speaking with him or when he’s deep in thought about something until you catch his attention. Then he’d throw a small smile at you — your biggest weakness. The scar on his lip being lifted to a curl never fails to put your stomach into knots.

He’s such an attractive man from the first moment you ever laid your eyes on him. You were bound to fall in love with him one way or another. It just sucks that it’s under such a professional relationship that you have to keep this little unrequited love to yourself.

Which is getting harder and harder every day, especially now when the guy is so close to your face when he’s helping you stretch. Oh, dear lord. 

Every time you are done lifting weights, Toji will have you do stretches. He has you do them before and after a workout as they give your muscles time to warm up and straighten from the stress you put on them. So now, as you’re laying on your mat, Toji puts one hand on your right leg to keep it grounded on the floor and his other hand on the back of your left to push it up to your chest. The position has the two of you so close, him being situated between your legs and observing your breathing; it’s so wrong of you to dwell your mind into other things – other raunchier things.

And when he brings both your legs up to your chest, how the fuck are you supposed to calm your heart from exploding!?? You have to close your eyes during all this to not be pulled in by the examination of his gaze under his raven bangs. This is, without a doubt, the best worst part of the workouts. Thankfully, this is the last workout of the week, and the gym is about to close within an hour and a half. 

Toji breaks the suffering silence between you two. “Y’re still stiff; take deeper breaths f’r me.”

Oh, if only he knew how your dirty mind took that sentence. You chew on your lip with a gulp, “Maybe I still have a little energy in me that still wants to exercise.”

That made him chortle. “Is that so? Well, maybe after your stretches, you can get on the stairmaster for a few minutes.”

You gawk at him, only furthering the smirk on his face. “Are you serious!?? You promised we wouldn’t do any cardio until next week.”

“Well, next week is around the corner,” Toji moves your knees a bit to the left, bending them further down to your chest so his face could be a little closer to yours. Your brain almost short circuits at the movement, trying to distract yourself from the fact that his groin is mere inches away from your shorts. “So, since ya got the spirit, be a doll and do a few minutes on the machine, okay? Five minutes.”

Your breathing is so slow that you’re too scared to move. Your lips pressed to a thin line to conceal the quiver, and your eyes don’t dare venture down. You already know your body is going through its own internal turmoil, a throbbing sense occurring in your lower regions the more you keep looking at Toji, who lifts a brow from awaiting your response. Oh, this man is going to kill me.

“…Five minutes.” 

“Atta girl.” With a scoff, he finally straightens himself and places your legs on the mat. Toji then stands on his feet and grabs his bag. “Gonna head for the showers; finish up those stretches and head for the stepmaster. See ya later, Y/n.” And you watch him leave for the men’s locker room, finally having room to breathe. Before you can conclude your stretches with a cobra and child’s pose, you grumble to yourself in a whisper.

Why the hell did I have to fall in love with such a snarky, gruff, older guy like him…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You enter the locker room after completing the instructed exercise. Your mind is dizzy from walking on the step machine for about fifteen minutes, and your legs are mere minutes from turning into jelly. You curse Toji internally for the insufferable torture you’ve stressed on your poor limbs. 

No matter, though; you’re finally done for the evening and can head home to your soft bed. The gym will close soon, so perhaps you could use the locker room showers to freshen up. But then again, after the strain you’ve put on your body for almost two hours, all you want to do is be home and listen to your favorite music. I don’t feel like cooking today…  

Further into the room, you can hear the sound of someone using the showers, indicating you had picked the right idea to head home. You head for the locker side to grab your items to put in your bag before leaving, and it’s then that you hear the water stop running from where the showers are. Oh, shit,  make this quick, Y/n!

In front of you is the locker with the number you’re familiar with — where you always leave your things, like your own spot. You open it only to find….nothing is in the locker? Huh? Where are my leggings? And my phone??

Come to think of it, where’s your duffel bag that you usually leave on the bench against the lockers? You’ve never had a problem with people stealing from you in this place, so how does a bag full of your stuff magically disappear? There is a bag in here, but it’s definitely not yours. And now that you get a good look, you start to notice that the color of the lockers is of a different, darker shade than what you’re usually accustomed to. Wait a minute, am I in the wrong—

“Y/n?”

You go still at the familiar voice. Oh no, please, God, no. There’s no way. Your eyes teeter to the corner as you ever-so-slowly turn to the direction where that voice was coming from. And, of course, it was your personal trainer, who is—OH MY GOD!!!

Toji stands afar on the opposite side of you from the showers, without clothing, his body and hair completely drenched from water. The only thing that covers him is a white towel wrapped around his lower body. His body, which you’re used to seeing being snug tight by his gym clothes, is out for you to see as water trickled down from his clavicle, pecs, ribcage, and abs. For a split second, you take in as much of the image as you can, storing this as it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in your mind (maybe to fuel more of your erotic fantasies when you go home). But you avert your gaze when your eyes travel down his abs, counting each one until you reach below his belly button, where strays of dark hair become more prominent with a trail down his pelvis and—Okay, stop looking, stop looking!!

“M–Mr. Fushiguro!?” You croak, eyes wide with realization at what you’ve just done. Your dumbass just walked into the men’s locker room without checking first. And to add salt to the wound, your crush is the first person to catch you in the act, “O-Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to walk in here! I’ll get going—“

“No, no, Y/n, calm down,” Toji walks to where you’re standing; a mini-heart attack was about to be deployed until the older man turned to the side to grab for something in his bag. He pulls out a smaller towel. “Ya walked in here on accident, right?”

You gulp, seeing the steam from the shower still leave from Toji’s nude body. “Uhm, yeahhh, I don’t know where my head was at. Sorry…”

The gym instructor scoffs at your apology. “It happens; must’ve been a bit light-headed from the exercise and forgot where y’re at. Heh, guess those five minutes did more damage than I thought.”

“Ahaha, yeah, it was…pretty….dreadful……” Were you distracted? Yup. Because Toji used the towel he pulled from his bag to wipe off the water from his arms and face. You couldn’t help but survey the man’s movements, watching the small white towel brush on his triceps and glide down to his torso. You continue watching the small towel until your eyes drift to the happy trail on his pelvis. Your breathing goes uneven, thinking of more indecent things that connect with the trail of hair and the limb that’s shielded by the towel around Toji’s waist.

“…–ou there…Y/n?” Your name said to you snaps you back, realizing where you are and what you were doing. Your eyes crawl back to Toji’s face, who throws a small smile at you. “Eyes up here, sweetie.” Sweetie?!? If the floor could give way and swallow you, that would be appreciated. “Is there anythin’ else you need to tell me while y’re here?”

No, I’m in the men’s locker room, so I need to hurry and get the fuck out! “Uhmm, n-nope, nothing at all! So…I better get going now. See you later, Mr. Fushiguro!” You turn on the heel of your foot to head for the door, only able to take about five giant steps before Toji stops you again.

“How was it today?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, what now!? You look over your shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“The workout. How was it?”

“It…It was, umm, alright, I guess. I feel like I could’ve done better on the weights.” 

“And why is that?”

Your body turns to have your front fully face him again. “Well, I mean, I was struggling at the last few reps…I’m sure you noticed, too, since you scolded me about it.”

He hums. “Ya know I correct you because, I know, you can do better, right, Y/n?” It was rhetoric, but you humor him with a slow nod. He brings the small towel to his head and dries his damp hair. “I’ve had many clients who come at me with everything they got or burned out before the first two months. But don’t worry, Y/n, I can tell you take pride in what we’re doing, and it’s good to know…” 

His words drown out from your ears. You didn’t mean for it to – you really didn’t. But while Toji was fixing his hair, you snuck more peeks at his body, enjoying his side profile. Admiring the way his arms move and flex, following the rocky silhouette of his abs that lead down to the towel again, you gasp at the dent of something that appears to be between Toji’s legs. Good lord, even with the cotton material covering him, you can still see it and—

“….Y/n.” Oh no, I did it again. You gulp with eyes venturing back to Toji’s face; the grin grew broader than before. “That's twice, sweet thing.” 

“S–Sorry, Mr. Fushiguro. It’s just that you have a...uhhh…” The heat in your ears makes it hard to concentrate on looking at the ground, anything to avoid your instructor’s gaze. “…..areallynicebody—“

“Hmm? I didn’t hear that, sweetie,” Sweetie? Sweetie!? Why'd he call me that? What you should be questioning is why that nickname made your stomach flip. But who are you kidding — if anyone had a crush on their instructor and were called a cute name like that, of course, they’d be as hot as a volcano. “Didn’t catch that, say it fr’ me again.”

“I–I said that,” Oh for fuck’s sake, this is so embarrassing! “You have a nice body…An attractive body, really…” The heat on your cheeks and ears is reaching heights that would have you combust at any moment. It’s what you’d hope for, honestly. It’s bad enough you’re stuck in the men’s locker room for not paying attention; now you’re here admitting to your instructor that you got the hots for him. God, please strike me here and now!

Toji says nothing after you say that, and it has your nerves at an all-time high, wondering if you should wait for his reply or just dash for the door and hope no one sees you leaving the men’s locker room. However, his voice breaks the silence, “I can say the same fr’ you.”

Oh, stop it. “Oh, please, no need to butter me up, Mr. Fushigu—“

“I’m serious.” He shuts down your argument down your argument before you can even finish. “C’mere.”

Why did you do what you were about to do? You could’ve just declined, exited the facility, and headed straight home to wallow away about this entire interaction, maybe find a different gym to form a membership with. But you didn’t. Instead, with downcast eyes, you slowly approached your instructor, who stood behind the locker bench. “Closer,” he says, noting how you’re about two arms length away from him, which you meekly decrease to one. “You don’t think ya got a nice body?” 

The adjacency between you two was too much for you, your face minutes from imploding. Too shy for words, you settle for a nod to give.

“How come?”

For God’s sake, this is not a conversation you want to have now with your crush instructor in the middle of the men’s locker room. “I…Well, Mr. Fushiguro—“

“Toji,” he cuts you off, discarding the small towel to the top of his bag. “Y’re over here tellin’ me I look good when you’re the one lookin’ like you could strike any guy that walks up in this place. Doncha think so?” 

Again, your eyes avoided his toweled figure, focusing on the tiled floor beneath your sneakers. “I guess, but…Toji, when compared to you, I—“

“Then that’s what ya shouldn’t be doin’, who told you to compare y'rself to others?” Toji brings a hand to your chin to make your avoidant peer placed on him, a move you were not mentally strapped in for. “I’m me, and y’re you, right?” 

“Right…”

“And that’s a good thing,” the hand on your chin slides down to the inside of your hoodie, his forefinger sneaking under the band of your sports bra. It makes your breathing stop. “But ya know what else I think?”

“What?” You sounded so low – so tiny – you didn’t know if he could hear you. He then brings his face close to your ear, and you could’ve sworn you almost felt your heart jump out of your throat. His free hand comes around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. The cotton of the towel now brushed your leg, and you could sink into a pool of embarrassment at the gasp you let out.

His voice was hoarse and low, the air from his nostrils grazing the skin of your ear. “…I think y’r body is the sexiest thing I’ve seen.” 

The sentence hit you like a truck, your heart almost giving in to a complete shutdown. “Huh–Ohhhh, wait,” Toji takes a nibble of your ear while his hand slithers your hoodie off of you, freeing your arms and covered chest where he creeps his hand inside next. You whimper at his fingers on your nipples that harden at his grinding touch. “Toji, wait, please wait…Do you really mean—“

“Mhmm, I do,” He coos, and a kiss to your neck nearly has you give way and lose balance; lucky for you, Toji was smart enough to have a leg between yours. “Now that I have you here, I’ll prove it.” 

“We’re—Ahhnnn…But we’re in the men’s locker room,” Toji brings his face up to look at you, your half-lidded eyes locked with his emerald orbs. “Someone could see us…”

Your worries are taken with a caress to your cheek. “Don’t worry about other people when y’re with me. I gotcha, baby.” 

“And I’m…Ohooo, really sweaty…”

“Nothin’ a shower can’t fix.”

And before you refute him again, Toji places his scarred lips onto yours, a shocked moan muffled as he kisses and sucks on your bottom lip. The hand in your bra now positions to the back of your neck, positioning you for him to deepen the kiss once you allow him access to your mouth. And once you kiss him back, all the reins of restraint have been discarded along with your hoodie to the floor.

The sounds of lips smacking get louder by the second, the passion in the kiss unraveling when you bring your hands to cup his cheek and have his face practically glued to yours. And Toji complies, shoving his tongue to tease and play with yours. The hand that was on your waist comes down to your ass for him to grope with the flesh, urging more of your sobs to be taken from him. Is it possible for your brain to turn into mush from a kiss? You’re finding that out now, breaking the kiss to gather whatever air you can before Toji claims your lips again.

The leg you’re riding on is nestled between your thighs, rubbing against the groin of your shorts. With every kiss and hump comes a grind on his leg, and it alleviates the growing ache that’s flourishing in your panties. Shivers travel up your spine and heighten your horniness, this elated feeling so dangerous that you could turn into putty at any second.

Toji lets go of your lips with a heavy pant, breathlessly snickering at his work; turning his cute client into a mess flipped a switch he’s been dying to indulge with. “Mmmm, y’re too fuckin’ cute, baby,” he wipes your mouth before letting you go; you hold back a whine when he removes his warm figure from you and steps back. It’s then that your instructor finally removes the towel that’s been shielding a now-discernible tent. The white towel meets the floor, and you follow his happy trail to meet with his erection, a sight that makes your jaw drop. The older man takes a seat on the bench behind him, and his legs spread out for his dick and balls to be ever-so-present and seen.

“Ya see how crazy you and y’r body make me?” He bites his lip, getting more turned on with you marveling at him and his length. “C’mere, angel, lemme see what you can do.” It takes a good mental slap to snap out of your frozen state and look at the thing you’ve been imagining all these months. Now, when the chance has finally been brought to you, how could you pass this up?  Following Toji’s command, you come close and go to your knees between his legs. 

The sheer size and girth of his length nearly put you in a trance, your eyes taking every detail of his erection before your eyes. Every dent and curve, the prominent veins from the underside, and the oddly pretty pink tip where bits of precum dare protrude from the urethra. Your raised hand has hesitance, yet Toji is quick to assuage your unease, taking your hand with his and wrapping it on his cock. The rough skin on your palm hitches your breath, “Hmmm, oh fuck. Yeah, just like that, princess.”

And there he goes again, egging you on with more cute pet names. Your hand slides up and down along his shaft from the tip to the base, and the sensation of its veins is so raunchy for your overwhelmed fingertips. Toji’s gruff hums to your touches stick to your ears the most, a sound you never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be lucky enough to hear. You want to keep hearing them, want them to be stored in your memory for as long as you can. And when you meekly tease his glans with a tiny lick, the hiss he expresses turns you on even more, so much so that you take the tip with patience and start to suck.

Toji throws his head back to the lockers behind him; the feeling of your tongue rolling around his girth as you inhale his cock is crazy. Fuck, it felt so good – he has to fight the urge to rut into your hollow cheeks and puffy lips. “Hahhh…Mmmm, damn….Ahahaha, ya know how to use that mouth of y’rs, Y/n. Keep suckin’ me off like that, and I’ll—Ohhh! Shit, shit, shiiiit,” he wasn’t prepared for you to take in his entire erection to the hilt. The tightness of your throat around him sends shivers, having to use the bench to grip onto.

You bob your head along his length, a hand accompanying the motions to further the exhilaration. Spit and come wet your palm, yet you’re too focused on the task to care, the haze of your brain increasing every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. The jerk of his hips entails that you’re doing a good job, Toji bringing a hand to the back of your head when you kiss and lick on the head of his cock. You take note, assuming that it’s his weak spot, and continue to suck and tease the tip some more, massaging his testicles which almost had him choke. 

“—Hnnmph! Fuckin’ shit, I can’t…” Toji then has enough of this ribbing pleasure, unable to hold it anymore. With a careful hold on your skull, he stands from the bench and plows your face with his member. The harsh hit of his hips propelling his dick down to the deep crevices of your throat was sudden; the assault on your uvula results in your gag reflex; however, Toji was here to calm you down, “It’s alright, angel, breathe fr’ me.” He caters to you with a mediocre rhythm to the hips, the movement relieving the abrupt stress to your throat as you hum on his cock. You find purchase on his thighs to stabilize yourself while he plays with you orally, dialing up the pumps to your mouth until it reaches an erratic mood. Fuck, it has your head ringing, but the growing twinges and throbs between your legs practically excite you for more. Goddamn, it feels so good. So fucking good. “Jesus Christ—Y/n, I’m ‘bout to cum. Keep swirlin’ that tongue…Nnmmm, fuuck, right there, right there—Ahhhck!!”

His release comes with a few rough hits to your lips, his balls hitting your chin until they’re pressed against it. He pups his load into you, and you take it like a champ, letting the fluid venture down as the girth pulsates around your walls. His choked breathing eventually simmers down, giving it a few long seconds before he steadily removes himself from your warm cavity. The last remnants of his white substance paint your tongue, your saliva coating him. And with a voluntary swallow, you open your mouth again to showcase your clean change.

“Heh, didn’t even have to tell you,” Toji chortles, bringing a thumb to wipe your chin. “Good girl.”

KA-CHA! CREEEEK!!

Wide green eyes shoot wide along with yours, and the both of you go frozen rigid. That was most definitely the sound of a door opening. The door to the men’s locker room, where you are on your knees, in front of your personal instructor, with his dick out for the whole world to see. The blood in your body runs cold, and your stomach drops to the chilly floor. Oh, it’s over. It’s done. Your life is officially coming to an end. Welp, it’s time for me to think of a good suicide note when I get home and—

Pause on that. Because one moment you were thinking of your demise from this discomfiting situation, next you’re being dragged by Toji to the other part of the locker room, the showers. He swiftly opens a curtain and throws you both inside with a close, and the wet tiles soaked to your socks have you cringe, so you take them off.  

“Hello?” It’s a guy’s voice, of course — Ino’s. The young man is probably inspecting the male locker rooms before they close for the night like usual. You don’t dare speak so much as a letter when the footsteps draw closer to the showers, your heart rate spiking to a nervous high, and your breathing shallow. This is worse; now you’re in a confined space, face-to-face with Toji, who is utterly nude, towel left back on the bench. Your eyes locked with his, and your ears to the sounds of shoes entering the plane. “Anyone here? Saw some stuff at the front.”

“Yeah, I’m here,” your expression turns to sheer terror, wide orbs looking at the raven-haired man who spoke. No! Why would you say something!? 

“Hmm? Toji, that you?” Ino’s voice comes closer, in front of the shower curtain that shields you from his field of vision. Your heart is on the verge of dropping to your intestines. “You’re still here? Figured you’d be home by now.”

“Nah, I’m still here. Just about to finish up and head out.” Toji then turns on the faucet, cold peeps of water hitting your sweaty skin, panties, and sports bra. And, of course, it catches you off guard. OH FUUUUUU—  You don’t scream. You can’t. Instead, you shield your mouth and turn your back to Toji after giving him the most outstanding death glare of your life, which the older finds amusement in. You wipe your face from the water, cursing internally at this entire predicament. 

“Oh, okay, cool. I was just worried someone left their stuff on that bench over there. Carry on, and have a good night!” Ino dismisses himself and leaves the showers, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief. Oh, thank goodness…

Toji, on the other hand, sees your relieved state, and he can’t help but grin to himself with what he’s about to do. Moving closer to you, he brings his wet hands to your sports bra and immediately goes to fondling your breasts. A moan sneaks past you at the contact, prompting him to grope you even more. “T–Toji,” the water gradually gets warmer, juxtaposing with his cold fingers. “Stop, we have to leave, this is—Ohooo…” He tweaks your nipples with his forefinger and thumbs, and a leg sneaks in between yours.

“Relax, dollface, it’s just you and me here,” Oh, sweet Lord, you almost fell to your knees when he whispered to your ear and a teasing lick to your helix. “Got ya all to myself, now…” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, his wet hair brushing your cheek while he snakes his hand down into your panties. The way his fingers graze your clit again has you arch your back to him, another hushed shriek when he bullies his way between your folds. 

“Hey, Toji?” Ino’s voice again. Back to anxious stakes now that Toji’s toying with you. Goddamn it, Ino! What are you still doing here!? “I noticed you left your towel on the bench over there. But I also saw Y/n’s hoodie there.” Oh, fuck me!! Shit, shit, shit—"Ohhmph!!"

With quickness, you covered your mouth before your moan caught the ears of the front desk employee. And the reason for that is that Toji pulled down your soaked underwear and gave your chasm a sudden lick. If Ino weren’t back here, you’d give your personal trainer the nastiest kick to the throat you could ever do. But when he inserts a finger inside you, your aggression withered away in seconds. 

“Huh? Ohh, yeah, ‘bout that,” Toji stands back up and continues to finger you, chuckling at the sight of your trembling figure using the wall as leverage. “I saw ‘em before headin’ to the locker room. We talked for a while, but then they said they needed to change and told me to hold their hoodie for ‘em.” He says it so casually, all the while scraping your inner walls with the tip of his forefinger, summoning hushed cries that turn to silent screams when his free hand comes down to playfully pinch and press on your clitoris. God, this is too much torture for one night. 

Ino keeps questioning. “Really? I had someone check the other locker rooms, and she said she didn’t see anyone or anything except for a few personal items and leggings in one of the lockers. I’m guessing those would be Y/n’s, but where could they be?” Little did he know that you were just a curtain pull away from being found, chewing hard on your lip to quash your screams from the erratic swiping on your clit and the curving hits of his digits in your wetness.

“Mmmm, they probably are at another part of the gym or waitin’ for me at the front.” He lies effortlessly, yet his attention is still on you as he removes his fingers from you, the pleasure subsiding from the removal. Instead, he brings his erection in between your folds and humps you, and the feeling of his dick on your lips worsens the throbs in your awaiting cunt. With the heat coming from the shower and your uneven breaths, you’re bound to faint at any moment. 

“Ahh, makes sense. Alright, I’ll try and find them then,” you don’t say anything, just hesitant breaths when you feel the tip of Toji’s cock align and lightly push to your slick-coated entrance. Holy fuck, this is actually happening! Your lips quiver when Toji comes down to your ear to tell you to relax your body from tension, quietly maneuvering you by pulling your lower half to him. You do big inhales and exhales while the man pushes his cockhead to enter your cunt, wincing at the few seconds of pain that accompany each push. “See you later, Toji, and I put your towel on the hood next to your shower for when you’re done. Good night!”

“See ya.” And with Toji’s dismissal, Ino’s footsteps draw farther and farther from where you two are. And the moment you hear the locker room door slam close, Toji pushes the entire cockhead inside of you. Finally, you can squeal out to your heart’s content, balling your fists on the shower wall while your personal trainer wedges his length inside of you and stretches your walls. The girth was definitely something you knew would be an obstacle to accommodate, and it’s worse when your slit keeps clamping around the foreign limb invading inside. Tears begin to swell from the stinging touch, not that they would be distinguished by the shower water hitting behind you and Toji.

“Haahh, ahahhnn, mmmm,” Your wails seep out from your system right as the base of his cock kisses your lower region lips. And after a few seconds, he starts with a slow pace. Knowing that you can feel every dent and vein within you is insane to comprehend; the heat across your cheeks cranks up due to the euphoric sensations. “Ohhhh, my God, Tojiii. I’m so full…”

Toji pecks on your shoulder, “Yeah, sweet thing? I bet so. Just be a good girl and keep grippin’ on me like that, alright? Gonna start movin’ now…” His hips rut into your vagina, pulling his shaft slowly outward and rushing it back inward. Holy shit, it felt so dreamlike — having him actually move inside of you. But it was very much real; having his pelvis meeting the flesh of your ass was proof of such.

A hand snakes down to your clitoris, and a gasp leaves your lips at the brush of his thumb rubbing against it. Your legs tremble at the flick of his finger on your bud, and the pace of his thrusts crank up in speed, making it hard to concentrate on one thing. So many senses are being activated all at once; the shower water raining down on your back, the exhilarating combination of Toji’s dick grinding down on your insides, and the swipes and pinches on your precious clitoris. God, it was all too much. 

“Arch some more fr’ me, princess,” Toji gets up to push your back further down, the walls of your chasm clinging onto him as the more exposed opening gives room for you to be plowed. “Hnnmm, shit, feels so good…Hey, let’s try somethin’ different.”

By the time the last bit of his sentence could be registered, he already had you turned to face him, folding your arms around his neck. You didn’t know what for until he hoisted you up, and then you instinctively grabbed hold for dear life before your back hit the wall, your legs wrapped around him while he held you by the thighs. Toji brings his member back to your labia to insert it back inside, and you two moan at the contact again. Oh, this was different – never have you been lifted like this. And to be elevated by your gym crush, in this connotation, is enough to have you appalled.

But what made your breath hitch the most was Toji’s face being up close and personal. The bangs stuck to his forehead thanks to the shower water; his jet-black hair was wet and slicked. Trails flow down his face, drops of water plummeting from his nose and chin. And – oh, sweet Jesus – those green eyes of his, so striking as if they could pierce right through you. They were piercing through you. He took in your expression just as you were his, eyes filled with wanton desire, and it was all directed towards you – for you. He flashes a small smile, teeth peeking from beneath his scarred lips.

Oh, my God. You turn to the side to hide your face from his gaze; it definitely wasn’t the water that was making your cheeks and ears hot at that moment. But that didn’t fly with Toji. He sneaks into a rut that has you jump on his cock, the new position giving his dick an angle to hit your cervix. Because of that, the jab erupts a shriek you had no preparation for withholding. 

“Heh, aht, aht, don’t do that,” Oh, he knows he’s in control of this entire situation; you can hear it in his patronizing chortle. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me, doll,” he kisses your cheek and trails down to the crook of your neck. “Let me hear you—Aiishhh! Oh, fuuck…” 

Once Toji begins to jerk his hips to you, you dwell into a pleasure that you never knew existed. Toji’s length scrapes your inner walls like crazy, like a euphoric itch. The fact that you’re bouncing on the cock of your personal trainer is scary to comprehend. Having him see you like this, hearing you moan and wail for him, you never felt more exposed in your entire life. And also, him holding you like you weigh nothing and fucking you in the men’s locker room showers?! What the actual fuck!? This is actually so embarrassing – I could die! 

But why would you? The commotion between your legs feels way too good to bring this to a stop – you two are already joined in a union, so why stop? Every stroke to your slit sends a shiver up your spine, clamping onto him every time he brushes up on your sweet spots that make your nerves tingle. And the occasional jabs to your tender cervix? Damn, the stimulation was enough to have you faint with the heat growing tenfold.

“Mmmff, hoohhh, ohhhhh,” your cries are drowned out by the shower, only heard by Toji. Speaking of, this position gives you proximity to observe his expression. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes shut as if he’s in the zone. The huffs of breath he takes with every roll of his pelvis are so hot to the ear that you wouldn’t mind listening to them all day. Anytime the walls of your wetness clamp onto him, he moans and hushed curses at the feeling of you wanting him. He’s an attractive man, but, holy fuck, this was a sight you thought you’d never see in a million years. 

“—Khhhh! Hnmph, ahhhh,” Through the gruff pants, Toji opens his eyes half-lidded, catching you in the moment of staring right at him. You clench onto him; why does this man have to look so fucking sexy!? He smirks, “How we feelin’ now, baby?”

“Hahhh, I–I’m—Ohhh!! Fucking shiiiitt,” you cry out when he slams deep into you, making your toes curl, and your words come out in slurs. “It’s too muuchh, Tojiii, ughhh!! T–Tooo muuuuch…” 

“Ya gettin’ close?” Oh, yes, you were. You could feel it through the trembles climbing up your fibers. Your brows trench at the high, and Toji was mean enough to sneak a pinch to the clitoris without you noticing. Your legs tighten around his waist, and you shake your head hurriedly. He chuckles, releasing your clit from his rough fingers and putting his forehead to yours. “C’mon, angel, I won’t know what you want if ya don’t say it.”

Fuck, he’s such a meanie. You love it so fucking much. You mewl to him, “Pleaseee, Tojiii, I want it so bad!”

He lifts a brow. “Want what?” 

“—To cum!! Pleasepleaseee, I wanna cum on you, I want it—Ahaahhnn!!” Fuck, it’s coming. Almost there. 

That’s all he needed to hear, the grin on his face broadening at your response. “Cum on me, then. I’m right here to catch ya, princess.” His hand returns to your clitoris, pressing down on the delicate button to the point where all he can hear is your sweet screams of lust. His thrusts now get erratically fast, having you rebound to the hilt of his length, the smacks of skin slapping against each other fill the confined space of the shower. And the climb of your aroused high increases until it comes crashing down; you let out one last howl as the electric shocks course through your body, and your release is freed. Your walls squeeze hard onto Toji as you indulge in your climax; him pistoning his cock to your sensitive labia adds to the chilling sensitivity. Your cunt flutters around his cock while you experience your crescendo, your eyes screwed shut to enhance the experience, not aware of Toji watching you ride out your orgasm on him. 

The trembles calm down, the shocks subside, and your breathing descends into a steady rhythm. Throwing your head back, you rest your back against the wall while still in Toji’s hold, using this time to indulge yourself in this moment of clarity. 

Toji lets out a tiny laugh, bringing his face to your neck to suck on it. “That felt good, sweet thing?” You sigh out of breath, nodding to his question. “Hmmm, good. But ya know I’m not done, right?” Your blood ran cold, your body rigid still. Wait, huh? “I let you have your fun, so be a good girl, and lemme have mine.” 

The involuntary twitch of your slit should give you a clue as to how the news hit you, and you can't tell if it'll be him or the shower that will have you melting like a puddle by the time this is over...

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Haibara walks out to the front desk, where Ino hurriedly stuffs his phone back into his pocket, away from his superior’s eyes. Fortunately for the younger man, the older one didn’t see his device. “Hey, Ino, I got a question.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” The associate fidgets with his brown hair under his rolled-up ski mask.

“Have you seen Mr. Fushiguro and Y/n today? Toji told me he couldn’t make it for Monday night, but I haven’t seen Y/n that day or Wednesday.” The older brunette looks around to find any resembling cues, but his eyes see nothing that sparks familiarity. 

Ino blinks before answering. “No. And now that you mention it, I haven’t seen or heard from them since last week…”

Haibara leans on the desk and sighs. “Hope Y/n’s doing all right. Usually, they’d call or shoot a text telling me they couldn’t make it for their appointments with Fushiguro. But this is twice where neither of them show up.” 

“Hmm, can’t say I have an idea.” The other shrugs at his superior’s concerns. “I didn’t get a call or text from Y/n either, so maybe I’ll give ‘em one after my shift. Heh. Let’s hope they didn’t replace us with another gym.” 

With trenched brows, Haibara took offense to the younger brunette’s words. “Cut that out, man! I’d be pretty upset if they just suddenly stopped showing up here. Half a year of coming in and out and getting to know each other, only for them to just vanish like that…At the very least, they could give a call!” He passionately bangs on the front desk, giving Ino a startle.

RING-RING-RING!! RING-RING-RING!! 

The two froze at the sudden ring of the desk phone as if Haibara’s fist magically granted them a call. And by the exchanged glances they shared before Ino picked up the phone, they better hope it wasn’t the call they were expecting. “Hello, this is Golden Gate Gym. My name is Takuma Ino; what can I do for you?” 

“Hey, is that you, Ino?”

“Hey, Y/n!” Ino turns to Haibara, whose eyes share the same perplexity as his. “It’s good to hear from you; where’ve you been? You’ve been MIA for almost a week.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had a little accident and sprained my ankle; I couldn’t come to the gym on Monday and Wednesday.”

“Oh, shit, for real?” Haibara watched the younger man’s tone change to concern, which didn’t help his nerves either. “Sorry to hear about that, but it’s a good call not coming here and taking care of yourself.”

“Yeah, thanks. Is Haibara there with you by any chance?”

“Uh, yeah. He’s right next to me, actually.” Ino takes the initiative to give the darker brunette the phone to speak with the one on the other side of the line. Haibara outstretches his arm to take the phone and put the receiving end to his ear. “Yo, Y/n!”

“Hey, Haihai. I meant to call you Wednesday, but I’m letting you know that Mr. Fushiguro and I are still doing our weekly appointments.”

Haibara sighs in relief internally, giving Ino a thumbs up. “Oh, thank God! You two had me worried there for a second. We didn’t see you guys here and thought you’d be a no-show again.”

“Yeah, sorry for the scare. Mr. Fushiguro found out about it and decided it would be….Haahhh….best for me to do my regimine at my apartment instead…”

“Well, that’s nice of him to look out for you with your ankle. I’m sure he’s doing what he can to—“

“Ahaahhnn!!”

A sudden yelp pops into the call out of nowhere and completely takes Haibara aback from the phone as if it was so out of place for the topic that was taking place. Ino notices it when the darker brunette gives him a brief perplexed look, which the younger shrugs at. “Uhh, Y/n? You busy right now?”

Oh, you were busy, all right. You’re at your apartment right now. Your ankle? Absolutely fine, nothing wrong about it in the slightest. The only change, however, is not being at the gym for this entire week and staying home instead. Why?

How about asking your personal trainer who has you propped upside down, standing up with his hands holding you by your ass, stuffing his face to your exposed cunt which he licks and sucks on. The feeling of his tongue digging through your labia has your hips jerking, but his strong arms exhibit unmoving effort in keeping your wetness in his mouth. His pants down to his knees, and his erect length in your hand and brushing your cheek. This is most definitely not the at-home exercise that Haibara is thinking of.

“…Hello?…Y/n, you there?”

Oh, shit! “Y–Yeah, I’m here! Sorry, my ankle is acting up on me—Ohhhh…Fushiguro’s looking at it for me…” Oh, please, he’s not checking shit; fucker indulging himself between your asscheecks, ravishing your folds like a sweet fruit to his tastebuds.

“Oh! So you two are exercising together right now?” Toji nibbles on your vagina and grazes with his teeth, having you gasp and twitch. His tongue surprising your clit prompts a choked whine. “That’s good to know then! Alright then, see you guys when you’re ready to return to the gym. And tell Toji not to put too much on you, ya hear?”

“—Khhhh, mhmm…I’ll give him an earful for you. See you later, Haibara…”

“Great, see ya. Happy Friday!” 

And with that farewell, you can finally toss the phone down and coo to your heart’s content, biting your lips at Toji stuffing his mouth on your bare chasm; his muffled groans vibrate your lower half like crazy. “Ohhooo!! Ohhhfuckkk, I’m gonna cumm,” your words slur with a suck to your clitoris, your hips bucking involuntarily. “Lemme cum, Tojiiii, I wanna—Ahaaaa!!”

He removes his face from your ass with an exhale as if he was dying for breath. But based on the grin plastered on his face, he wouldn’t mind being in this position for a little while. “Oh, I don’t think so, doll. I don’t think ya deserve to cum in my mouth.”

That was the last thing you wanted to hear right now. “Ahahnn!! You’re such an asshole, Toji…”

He chuckles crudely. “That’s where I’m gonna play with next if you don’t stuff my dick in that pretty mouth of y’rs already. Suck me good; then maybe I’ll let the princess cum all over me.”

Broad strokes from his pelvis rub his dick on your cheek, a reminder of your part of this endeavor that you must partake in. The smell of him overwhelms your nostrils into a pornographic trance, your head pounding just from looking at it. You gulp and take the tip into your mouth, sucking and licking the precum off while your hands glide up and down his shaft. “Good girl, good girl…” Toji goes back to smacking his lips on your folds, moving his tongue in whirlpool motions that have you moaning on his cock. God, it feels so good, so fucking good. You can see yourself becoming addicted to this, and that’s a bit scary seeing this professional relationship drift to something more touchy and personal…

…But then again, there’s nothing wrong with that, right?

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by achumuchi + dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.