#but i figured i could at least share some of what i have that is decent

[user211201]

Totally Normal

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Originally posted on 2023-12-08

Author: dumb-and-jocked.

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“Welcome back to Totally Normal, the online show where we narrow down the one thing that makes us all meet that standard!”

The host then hit a button on his laptop, releasing an audio for an uproarious round of applause. With his entire audience streaming in live, he had to make due with tracks. He didn’t mind it though; he could always predict what his viewers were thinking. It was like they shared the same mind.

“My name’s DJ, and before you ask, yes I have a side gig in music.” A laugh track obnoxiously inserted itself. “I don’t dabble in the typical jazz; I remix these men back to the tunes they oughta be singing.”

Another fake round of applause. The host smirked before continuing forward with the rules.

“The point of the game is simple: Figure out that one thing that makes someone totally normal. Through a series of questions, I’m going to chisel away at our contestants until we get to the base. For every wrong answer, a vibration will be sent out to their device until they head back on the right track. We want to find out that one thing that solidifies them as an average joe, but we don't exactly know what that thing is."

The host then took a scripted pause. "Well, *I *know what that thing is.”

Another laugh track entered before the host silenced his imaginary audience. “So, let’s get down to it. We have our men here, but ARE THEY NORMAL?”

The last three words were all enunciated with the typical gameshow pazazz. The host even had an accompanying audio that made it seem like there was an audience chanting it with him.

On cue, the livestream booted up a panel of the three contestants. The first was a shy young man, who by his age looked to be in college but by his height possibly younger. The second was the typical corporate homosexual, the breed who was already happily married and wore tight, designer clothing. And last but not least, the third looked just a little older than the first with an office that displayed the inner workings of a minor start-up.

“Help me welcome our first contestant, coming from the cool waves of Cali, here comes Cody!”

Corey opened his mouth to kindly correct the host, but was immediately silenced by the massive track of applause. A small and nervous 20-year-old, Corey was an academically-fine student at a state school. He worked as an IT intern, helping others work through their issues in a manner where he didn’t have to fully engage. Yet he knew he would probably have to work through this introvert problem if he ever truly wanted to make a loyal boyfriend from the crop of surfers across the street.

“Up next is our cowboy-tootin’, bullet-firin’ family man, Norman!”

Nolan made a face of disgust, but he too didn’t stand a chance against the fake cheers. He’d settled down with his husband just about 10 years ago in the suburbs. Working for a Fortune 500 company, he had everything a man of his caliber could want. Great company, great style, great pets instead of real children. Nolan loved his little metropolitan life.

“And finally, the privileged heir to the corporate throne, it’s Asher!”

Aaron rolled his eyes as the artificial eruption burst through his speakers. He assumed that this narcissistic jock host had gotten all of the contestants names wrong. Aaron had built his own business up from the ground, an independent hard-worker with no one tying him down. It wasn’t that Aaron didn’t want a boyfriend, he just needed to focus on himself. That’s why he was keeping it casual, hooking up with boys a little younger and less responsible. He absentmindedly pawed at his crotch a little as the douchebag DJ started the game.

“Now,” the host cracked his knuckles dramatically. “Let’s start off with some easy questions, just to make sure those devices are working after all. Cody, you’re looking comfortable out on that beach!”

Corey looked around the library he was sitting in confusedly, neither comfortable nor on a beach.

“I think you’re mistaking me for the surfers across the street,” Corey tried to joke, but his feeble demeanor spoiled the comeback.

“Men…you all ought to be where all the other guys of your kind are at.”

All three of them put on bewildered faces.

“Cody, what’s holding you back from embracing that Cali life?” the host asked.

“I…I mean there’s the obvious fact that they aren’t keen on ga-”

BZZT

“Ah!” Corey ripped his hand away, the "vibration" more of a literal sting.

“Cody, what’s holding you back?” the host asked again.

“Dude,” Corey uncharacteristically responded. “I don’t know if they will accept me, man.”

“Bro, what’s there NOT to accept?” the host chuckled. “You fit right in!”

Corey looked over his short frame, his pale skin, his shrimpy figure. He appeared better fit for the library than the bea-

BZZT

“You’re right DJ! I'm a gnarly guy like them brahs! They’ll totally accept me!”

Corey looked over his tall frame, his tanned skin, his toned figure. He appeared better fit for the beach than the library–that’s why he was on the beach after all!

“Alright alright,” the host nodded with approval. “Now Norman, let’s talk about your life in the countryside.”

‪‘Country side’?” Nolan interjected. “Do you consider Houston-”

BZZT

Nolan flung his hand back, “HOWARDWICK the countryside? You bet! Population 402, the two being me and my husband.”

“And what massive land you got behind you, I’m assuming you and your male fling built that together.”

“My what?” Nolan peered behind him, noticing his garden he’d built with his hus-

BZZT

-the ranch he’d built with his hustle. Well, not technically–this land had been managed through the traditional good ole ways of his parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents. He’d just been fixing it up here and there.

Nolan stretched his thickening fingers, hoping to desensitize them from the pain. “W…What in tarnation is goin' on ‘ere?”

The host continued on, mocking the Southern accent he’d implanted onto the second contestant. “A place fittin' for a cowpoke like y’all’s self! Ain’t no city folk allowed; you don’t want nothin’ queer intrudin' your property, right?”

Queer?!” Nolan spat back. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with bein’-“

BZZT

“Darn tootin’ straight! Ain’t nothin’ strange gonna be happenin’ on this ‘ere land.”

With the second contestant’s location rightfully reoriented, the host moved onto the third.

“And onto our Ivy League, let’s discuss ascension…I mean, ‘climbing the corporate ladder’.”

Aaron shot the host a dirty look through the screen. “You don’t think I worked hard to earn this position?”

“Well, you certainly didn’t do it all yourself.”

Aaron held his breath. He was a decently attractive man with his slim figure and responsible will, and even his anger made him appear wiser than his years. But Aaron's best feature was his independence, and he wasn’t going to let anyone taint his name over that.

“What, do you think my current boyfri-”

BZZT

“-my dating his-”

BZZT

“-my friends with benefits were involved?”

Aaron’s fingers tingled with energy. His body tingled with fury.

“Well,” the host snickered. “If by benefits, you mean…”

“What’s all this!” Aaron flipped. “This is simply…p…preposterous!”

“What are you talking about?” the host egged on. “It's simply normal for a man with your caliber to have such an ‘inheritance’.”

The other two contestants watched on with intrigue.

“I…I may have a b…benefactor,” Aaron suddenly revealed, as if something had just been placed upon his chest. But he was still independent, right? “But that has nothing to do with it!”

“Benefactor? Do you mean your DADDY?”

The fake audience suddenly burst into a chorus of shocked “Ooooohhhh”s. Aaron’s usual calm nature was flatlining, being replaced by a more quickly-agitated behavior.

“We may be really closely acquainted!” Aaron backpedaled. “But it’s nothing of that kind of sort!”

The other two contestants smirked as the growingly-pompous bastard was taken down a peg.

“Sounds pretty queer to me, man,” Corey interjected confidently, scratching at his defining abs.

“Yeah, Ah reckon that fellas a little less normal than us folks,” Nolan added, adjusting the large hat that had secured itself upon his head.

“SHUT UP SWINE!” Aaron spat, his face gaining back a little of his baby fat as he absorbed more child-like aggression. “I'm perfectly normal!”

The two men laughed alongside an obnoxious laughter track.

“He’s right folks, we men are on the right side of history.” The host knew he needed to move on, the show only had so much time of course, but he was having fun. “Surely that father-figure is just some kind of…relative?”

“Just a relative, brah?” Corey asked as his trim cut bloomed out into luscious blond waves.

“Seems closer than that, partner.” Nolan quipped as a graying stubble crawled upon his widening jaw.

“A….A relative?” Aaron stammered, a higher youthful pitch lightening his tenor as this benefactor became clearer in his head. “He’s…he’s someone who I f-“

BZZT

“Father! He’s my father: Asher Osvald the Third!” Aaron screamed, his blond locks gelling up into a refined style that didn’t match his own personality. “And you all better remember it when you see our company in the headlines!”

Both Corey and Nolan took their respectful back-offs, but the host could only smirk with pride. After a moment of self-congratulation, he noticed some slight hesitation from the first candidate.

“Dude…” Corey started. “Can’t you just see he’s messin’ with us, man? Don’t you guys feel kinda strange-“

“Aren’t you supposed to chill, dude?” The host immediately cut him off.

Corey’s mouth went flat, his chin taking the opportunity to curve out a little further. “How can I chill with-“

BZZT

“Without the support from my brosettes across the screen, duuuuude!”

The host watched on with glee as the female portion of the livestream burst into a flurry. Lots of hearts and kisses and even some eggplant emojis were flooding the chat. And the comments were getting suggestive too. One chick wanted to know why he was wearing a dorky button-up, and she was soon exposed to his lean bod and treasure trail. Another suggested he should flex for the camera, and Corey was happy to oblige, each of his muscles pumping larger as he did so.

“Now, Cody,” the host coyly asked. “I’m sure the fans would like to know what you do for work.”

“I uh…I work with coding.”

“You are studying IT?” the host replied, incredulous. “Sounds complicated man.”

Corey beamed at the compliment, an excited fever entering his voice. “Yeah, but I sort of have a gift for-“

BZZT

“IT...like as in ‘it’ man...not ‘eye-tee’ or whatever.”

“But it has something to do with a code, right?”

“Well…yeah man…” Corey’s lifeless vocal fry responded. “But it's not that nerdy crap…something more…uhhh…”

The host graciously provided the answer, “Manly?”

“Yeah man….’it’ is the uh…bro-code brah.” Corey fiddled with the cross necklace that had materialized around his neck, trying to structure his thoughts. Corey felt like his head was spinning in a light vertigo, but not out of stress. Rather, a pleasurable confusion. Cali dudes don’t think that much right? They just go with the flow, so why shouldn’t he man? Wasn’t that what was normal?

While Corey processed his internal dilemma, the host reconnected with the second contestant, noticing he too was becoming a little self-aware.

“Hey Norman, you’re really rocking that fit.”

Nolan was honestly surprised at the comment. He knew he looked good in his tight, patterned three-piece, but he didn’t think the ultra-straight host would notice that too.

“Those shoes must be great for the ranch.”

Nolan laughed. “These ole’ things? They’re Prada from last season-“

BZZT

“Uhh…Ah mean these boots are from that one brand-”

BZZT

“Ah’ve had these kickers for years, fella!”

The host observed quietly as the rest of the second contestant’s clothes altered. The suit jacket and vest disappeared completely. The pants grew out into a straight pair of jeans that had been worn continuously for many seasons. The shirt rolled it sleeves and loosened some buttons, darkening to a dusty black that was meant for hauling hay rather than implying gay. But as the outfit masculinized, there was one item that stubbornly fought back, unlike the man who wore it.

“And that belt, how long have you had that?”

Nolan evaluated the expensive snake leather. “Oh yeah, this ‘ere was a gift-“

BZZT

“What in TARNATION was that for?!” Nolan yelled, the vibration noticeably more painful than the previous blasts. The material of his belt quickly grew cheaper, a massive longhorn buckle blooming forth above his blooming pouch.

“S…Sorry y’all,” Nolan collected himself. “Ah don’t know what’s gotten ovah me, or why Ah’m speakin’ so-“

“Enough apologies,” the host gagged. “You are a man, are you not?”

“Yessiree, but that doesn’t mean we men ain’t got to be sens-”

BZZT

“Ah reckon yer right there, partner!” Nolan puffed out his chest, carrying his emerging muscle gut with him. “We men oughta be tough! The MAN of the household.”

The host snickered, his eyes meandering around the second contestant’s body as additional muscle and bulk was piled onto his frame. “And men like you ought to have a body like that, don’t they?”

The cowboy huffed, his torso heavy with Southern pride. Nolan had worked his muscular frame up over all these long years, from sunrise to sundown. At 6’4, his big hearty body was always devouring meat to stretch out everything from his big strong biceps to his huge Size 15 clompers!

With the first and second contestants almost there, it was time for the host to catch his third man up to speed. He had already advanced mighty far, his skin having cleared up a bit and a few arrogant gold trophies having appeared in the office background, but the host had some additional notches yet to secure before the final round.

“Now Asher, let’s get real here.” The host put on his classic douchebag smile for the audience. “Any ladies tickling that fancy lately?”

“What?” Aaron scoffed. “Are you dense? I'm into g-”

BZZT

“Girls…no…wait what?” Aaron felt strange. Why did the host ask if he liked…girls? And why was the thought of girls suddenly something he…liked?

“Listen ere’, partner,” Nolan suddenly interjected. “Yer talkin’ 'bout women like they’re nothin’!”

The host, displeased, fought back. “Aren’t you married to one, partner?”

Nolan couldn’t believe the disrespect. “Me? Married to a woman? Yeah right-”

BZZT

“-Ah am! Ah’ve been married to my lovely wife for darn straight twenty years! Ain’t nothing QUEER happenin' on this ‘ere normal ranch. I got youngins to raise after all!”

As Nolan became bombarded by memories of his new flock of children, the satisfied host switched back to his third contestant.

“Look, I think we should respect women.” Aaron tried his best to sound mature, now finding it extremely difficult to maintain. “In fact, I think we should respect all others appropriately-“

BZZT

“And by appropriately, I am referring to overlooking these swines of colleagues who cannot afford a top notch education adjacent to my own.”

The host queued up a laugh track for his next one-liner. “They weren’t kidding when they said someone with your prestige had everything handed down to you, including bad manners.”

Aaron felt his anger rising once again, it easily filling his shortening body as he squared out to an average 5’9.

“Well excuseeee me! I am my own person with-“

BZZT

“My father is a reputable man who would wish to-”

BZZT

“DADDY!”

Aaron stomped his foot, bewildered at this idiocracy. Why was he continuously interrupted? Why was he not given the required recognition? He was captain of the country club’s golf team, rowing team, youth league, and the youngest member on the executive board for Christ’s sake! He studied at an Ivy League! He was everything!

As Aaron tried to understand why none of these other men appreciated the absolute honors of his merit–which he refused to ever admit weren’t even his own–a small alarm went off from the host’s computer.

“Like what was that, mannnn?” Corey’s face furrowed into an all-too-natural look of dumbfoundment.

“Yeah,” Nolan reared. “What's y'all gonna do next?”

“I demand to know it this instant!” The host was surprised at the third contestant jumping in, but he assumed it was just his way of trying to maintain his (nonexisting) position on top. “Or else I’ll tell my father about this-!”

An insane uproar of artificial laughter echoed throughout their ears, startling and silencing them.

“Alright folks, you know what that sound means!” the host grinned. “It’s almost time to wrap up our show, and because our contestants still haven’t figured out what makes them 'Totally Normal', we’re going to have to speed things up!”

“But can’t there only be one winner?” Aaron whined.

“Technically, no,” the host responded honestly. “All of you can be winners if you find out what makes you totally normal.”

For the first time since the game had started, all three of the contestants fell silent.

“I mean, let’s look at our surfer stud Cody,” the host started. “You are almost there, but you gotta loosen that one thing that’s still pent-up, man.”

“Brah…” Corey complained. “What else is there?”

As if by some subconscious command from the host, Corey began dumbly palming himself, a light drool dripping from the edge of his lips. The constant cycle of tits and feminine bits in his mind bombarding all over thoughts.

“A totally gnarly surfer focuses on working out, banging chicks, and chillin’ dude.”

Corey guffawed with a stupid relaxed expression, casually groping as the host moved on.

“And Norman, you’ve worked hard for your position in life, haven’t you?”

The Texan father nodded in cold agreement.

“So what would pride a totally traditional cowboy more than his ranch, his woman, and his legacy?”

Nolan groaned as he instantly unbuckled the massive lock hiding his mighty steed. Huffing loudly, the Southern Baptist’s lil’ pony was wrangled into a full-fledged stallion, the kind that was built to produce offspring. And the kind that got worked up over anything that could threaten the generational uniformity his family, religion, and nation he swore to protect.

“And you, Asher,” the host swiped over to the final contestant. “What’s stopping you from becoming the total Harvard bastard?”

Asher’s face went red and his cock went hard.

“I’m talking complete corruption, pure privilege, Daddy’s little-”

The host was suddenly cut off by a loud holler, the exclaim like the crashing waves of the ocean. Immediately, the comment section blew up as the host, players, and audience watched the surfer jock release a blast of his sea salt spray.

But before the host could congratulate the first winner, the southern father turned around the corner. With one hand whipping his meat and the other held tightly onto his hat, it was only mere moments until the inevitable:

“YEEHAW!”

Once again, the audience burst into merriment over the propagating blast. It was then that Aaron’s anger truly took the best of him. He couldn’t be beaten by two no-names! He was the top of his class, an heir to a Fortune 500 company, and a totally normal man for Christ’s sake! Gripping his pecker and shining it furiously, Aaron accepted his heterosexual rage and vowed that he would win and please his…please his…!

“F…FAAAAATHERR!”

A loud, pretentious yell echoed out of the Harvard student, an endless splurge of funds dumping out of his mighty account. It was just one of the many things his heritage’s estate had granted him.

The host didn’t try to hide his devious sneer as the viewers erupted once more. He’d loved his job because everyone won every time. And now, seeing all the new stereotypical straights he’d created, the host couldn’t help but feel his own massive sausage chub. But he laughed the feeling off, knowing beating off over these other men wouldn’t have been “totally normal.”

“And it looks like with just a minute left on the clock, all three of our contestants will be going home as winners today!” The host then added his artificial rounds of applause. “So, did you three ever figure out what makes you ‘Totally Normal’?”

“Isn’t it obvious, brah?” Cody replied, the typical airhead more sure of himself now than when he had dropped out of high school. “It’s that we’re straight, mannnn…”

“He’s right, partner!” Norman added, his fatherly conviction always strong and steady. “Ain’t none of us are them faggots. If Ah do say so myself, we are all what the mighty Lord named men.”

“Well, if that is what common plebians such as yourself are called, then you shall address me as ‘I-V’,” Asher Osvald IV’s voice was doused in entitlement and a lack of understanding for anyone but himself. A pair of offscreen hands adjusted his tie just to prove his privilege. “After all, I do attend Harvard. I guess you could say I was destined for greatness since birth.”

“Yes, Asher, everyone here knows you are a prick.” The host immediately followed up his quip with a laugh track. “But that’s all we have for today’s show. Signing off, this is Host DJ!”

“Hang ten and surfs up, dudes!”

“The biggest rodeo’s the family and kids y’all!”

“I’m probably way richer than you vagrants, so don’t bother.”

“And don’t forget to ask yourself,” the host winked before adding in the final audio. “ARE YOU NORMAL?”

[fakesimp]

Hired? Or Claimed? , With Shu Yamino

Warning !

Mentions of Blood, Drugs ; Shanti! Shu ; Strangers— Acquaintence— Lovers? ; Lowkey Possessive! Shu ; Modern set timeline ; Unestablished Relationship

A/n !

IMEJFJENWIWJDFF—

before you guys say anything, Some beautiful, lovely followers, those who is kind enough to share, ..yes, I thank you personally for that 🙏🏻 I hope you have a great day.

And I wrote this, based on fanarts I've seen, and a theory I found about Shanti and Mafia being related. Whoop. Enjoy!

Also Happy birthday My Beloved Sorcerer.

➶◜◝➴

How did you ended up here?

Oh, right, it's because you have some debts to pay, but you have no money with you.

Weeks of you trying to find a decent job kept failing for some reason, it drives you insane. You never thought the day of you doing some type of dirty job will ever come.

You, who got no choice, decided to dive into the dark side of the internet, the world maybe, trying to see if there's anything, a job you can find with big earnings.

Your eyes scanned through the screen of your phone, and laptop, to see if there's any response to your post upon is there any job out there to get big amount of money without doing much, dirty work.

Hours have passed.

You were about to give up until you see a notification coming from your phone, an anonymous message, asking you, would you like some help to pay your debts?

You opened the message, to see there is more to their message. The anonymous message also included their location to meet up, you were skeptical on going to the location or not.

It could be a fraud. But you did say that any job would be fine as long as it gave you a big money in the end, you would take the risk.

After contemplating for awhile, you finally decided to check out the place tomorrow. Also, just in case, you also bought some taser, and other self protection things.

You will never know what's gonna happen when you're on your way there, the chances of you getting in danger is there. You are literally going to visit an unknown place, of course at least you need some, self protection right?

. . .

You are starting to regret you choice on coming over to the location that was sent by the anonymous person. You are walking down the dark alleyway despite the sun is high up in the sky, you looked at your phone once again to see where you're going.

And then you stopped by a building, that is quite, clean also, welcoming? Depsite other buildings that looks not so friendly for you.

You looked around one last time, and checked your phone. It says that you have arrived at the destination, you look around the door, and the walls to see if there's anything, you can press to let the person? Or people inside.

But you didn't find any, so you ended up knocking on the door. There was no response at the first 5 minutes, you knocked again. There is also no reponse, third time is a charm, right?

You were just about to knock again and the door swung open, revealing the person standing behind it. They tilt their head slightly, scanning you from head to toe. "You, .. You're the person who needs their debt to be paid?" You blinked, and slowly nod your head.

"I was, the person in [ ... ], asking for a job— you reached out to me in my dms—" "Oh, come in, I will escort you to his room."

You followed the person, looking around the place, it's very japanese vibe, you can see some of the furnitures, walls, doors are built like a Japanese old houses. Not to mention the sweet scent scattered around the place, you noticed that the person took you to the deeper side of the building.

And then they stopped, knocking by the door. Speaking something in Japanese? Not long after you heard a voice coming from behind the door, the person turned to you—

"Inside, he is waiting for you."

He said as he took a step to the side, and slowly opening the door for you. You see a figure inside, though vaguely, since there is a curtain separating you and the person inside.

You stepped into the room, and the door closes behind you. You bit your lower lip as you look at the person behind the curtains, it didn't really let you see exactly how the male looked like. All you can see is just his silhouette, and it's also vaguely too. You can see them because of the dim lighting from his side, you then heard footsteps behind the curtain.

"I heard from my underling you needed to find a job?" His honeyed voice echoed throughout the room, tickling your eardrums with his voice. "Y, Yes, I need to pay my debts— and, I couldn't get any decent job so—" Before you can finish your sentence, you heard a low chuckle from his side.

Made you who had been fiddling with your fingers, and looking on the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world, finally looked up.

And then you noticed that the silhouette is standing so close to you, making you inhaled sharply upon the realization how close he is.

"I can give you a job, a simple one even, as long as you don't get caught. You are going to be fine." He said, making you sweat upon his statement, what does he mean caught? What job is he going to offer you? "I'm, I'm sorry but, what job am I working on—?"

"Delivering drugs." He casually said and then the next thing that happened, there is suddenly a gust of smoke slips through the curtains— making you instinctively stepped back, "Don't worry, for now it's just a simple delivery in town." He added.

Is he trying to convince you to deliver drugs for him right now? "Well? It's just a simple job after all," He walked away and you then heard some ruffling from his side. "About your debts, you don't need to worry, they will be paid entirely, guaranteed." He said, now you're contemplating even harder.

So in exchange of delivering drugs for him, you get your debt paid entirely. You stood there for a good minute, trying to think if you should take the risk or not. If you're caught then you'll end up behind bars, and that is something you wished that rather not happened if you actually decided to deliver drugs for this man.

"Okay, Y, you just want me to deliver drugs right? In town?" "Yes, so this means you're accepting the offer?" You bit your lips, you closed your eyes— "Yes.. I accept your offer, you will pay my debts, right?" "Yes, your debts will be paid, don't worry." You heard another low chuckle coming from his side.

"Well, then, I look forward for how you're doing," He hummed softly, you then smelled a sweet scent coming from his side. "You better don't do anything weird, reporting to the police or such, or you will get the consequences.

And I believe you wouldn't like it the slightest, well then, good luck, new recruit."

. . .

That was 6 months ago, a lot have happened in that 6 months, there was up and downs. But one thing for sure is that your boss, who's called as Shu Yamino. Kept his words, he paid your debts. Everything was paid after your 3 months of working with him, the drug package is getting bigger and bigger the longer you work for him. And the range of you sending the drugs had gone further from your first month working, it went outside the town. Even countries.

And right now, you're on your way back to meet with Shu, you just got back in town from going abroad to another country to send off some drugs, how did the drug manage to go pass the scan? Only God knows how. At least the drugs are sent away, and delivered safely.

The moment you arrive at the building you are greeted with blood trails, making you quite concerned. But then you remembered what Shu said—

"If you ever see blood in the building, anywhere. Ignore it, your job is simply delivering drugs, you don't need to get yourself involved into other things."

He said so on your first month working with him, and that got your heart skipped a beat thinking about it. That means there is some fighting also, killing? Maybe? Involved in this damn place.

Even after 6 months, you still getting goosebumps on thinking about the bloodbath happening. You took a deep breath as you continue stride forward, trying to ignore the blood trails. But you can no longer ignore them when you realized the blood trail leads to Shu's room.

Did he got hurt?

You pondered upon the thought, you slowly knocked on the door, you heard shuffling inside the room, and after awhile you heard a familiar voice coming from the other side.

"Who is it?" He asked, "It's me" You replied, he then went silent, you know that his silence meant that you can go inside. You slowly opened the door and stepped inside, the smell of iron strokes your nostrils as soon as you went inside.

You never really see how Shu looked like, only some of his underlings saw him, but most of his underlings never saw him personally. That is including you.

You took a deep breath, "The drugs have been delivered," you started off, you didn't hear anything from him for a good minute. "I see, good job. You can take a few days off, you've done well the past 2 months." He said and then you heard another soft shuffling from his side.

"... Um," You blinked, stared at his silhouette behind the curtain. "I, Know you said that I shouldn't get involved in other things other than delivering drugs—" You spat out, "But I can't help it— Are you, okay—"

He did not say anything for a good minute, making you start to regret asking how he's doing. But the next thing you knew you heard footsteps coming closer, and closer and closer.

Eventually you see his silhouette right before you, the one that separates you is just the curtain. "The blood, is the reason why you're worried, no?" He asked barely in a whisper, you hesitantly replied— "Y, Yes.."

You don't know how long this silence had been going, but then slowly you saw his hand go through the curtain, his slender fingers reached out to you from behind the curtain. Silently inviting you to go to his side, you stared at his hand, you don't know where the courage came from—

But you placed your hand on top of his, he then slowly pulled you through the curtains. And you finally can see who you're working for—

Shu Yamino, his raven hair, his piercing purple eyes staring down at you. "It is not my blood." He said, he didn't let your hand go, but you didn't even realize he' still holding your hand.

You couldn't get your eyes away from his eyes, it's so, beautiful, also, tantalizing. It made you feel like you're getting hypnotized, "Are you okay?" He chuckled softly as he dangerously leaned closer to you.

"Huh? O, oh!— I, yes- I'm, okay—" You felt embarrassed upon staring at the man oh so shamelessly, he is your boss! And you just shamelessly stared at him.

He is pretty, you can't really blame yourself upon seeing his, beauty. You looked away from him and took a step away, only to realize that his hold on your hand tightens. "Where are you going, hm?" He asked in a whisper, he then pulled you closer.

The next thing you knew, he blew out some smoke to the side, before he looked back at you. His eyes narrowed slightly, seemingly annoyed with how you stepped away from him.

"I— No where—? I, I should go back home—" You were about to pull your hand away from his hold, only for him to pull you even closer to him, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you in. "Are you scared?" He asked, his face is right beside your ear, whispering huskily at your ear.

"Why are you trying to run away from me?" He asked once more, making your whole body shiver. "I, I don't know—" You replied, you then felt his hand on your lower back, pulling you in even closer than before. Making your hips pressed against his, his other hand brushed against your hair, kissing the tip of your hair as he leaned closer to you.

"Sweet.." He whispered, you realized that his clothing is painted with red, not too much but you can smell the blood iron stroking your nostrils due to how close he is to you. "Sweet..?" You repeated—

"Your scent.." He hummed softly, the next thing you knew, his face buried at the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

You don't know what's happening. There is so much happening within a span of a minute, making you confused. Why does he act like this? You never really talked much to him, other than reporting. You two do have small talks before, but it's not much since he seemed to be so busy.

But from what you heard, Shu knew how his underlings looked like, despite them not knowing how he looked like. "I am curious, ..." He whispered, "how long you will last" he added, you then felt his lips brushing against your skin. Making your body shiver once more, "What, ..do you mean?" You asked shakily, trying to breathe properly.

"Not many of my underlings stayed, they either died or getting captured." He added, "But you at the other hand," he sighed. "You handled your job very well, you never underestimate the work that is given." He continued, his hand on your lower back gently moved up and down. As if he's trying to soothe you.

"... I'm sorry, You can leave now" He said, but before literally letting you go, he planted a soft kiss on your neck before stepping away from you.

"You can forget whatever happened just now,

Or..

You can stay. Your choice."

©fakesimp . 2024

A/n !

How are you feeling with the ending JWNSHHWHEHED, I don't know how to end it. But i feel content with it heheheh.

Also Shu Yamino.

How dare you be hotter. That is a crime.

[cityof2morrow]

Mod Organizing & Load Order Shenanigans

Published: 5-1-2024 | Updated: N/A MOD ORGANIZING During the [first] "pandemic summer," I started reorganizing my game folders. I also started  a "conflict management" list, containing all the known conflict info from download pages, new conflicts I discover while playtesting, etc. It's 44 pages long at the moment....a testament to my unapologetic mod addiction. I encourage all simmers to keep a list like this. It’s very reassuring (and handy!) to be able to look up known conflicts or keep track of mods which have been merged (duplicate files can break your game FAST!).  **I won’t be able to share mine at this time but most of my info comes from the same pages where I download CC/mods - shout out to the creators who take the time to include this info.

MY LOAD ORDER(S) I number my folders and use mostly lower case filenames to force the load order I want – these were the most important changes I made re: how I maintain a heavily-modded-but-still -very-functional game. With few exceptions, this has been much more effective than keeping track of the number of z's and cases. It also means I don't need to rename downloaded files - I just put them in the right folder. When I played exclusively on mac, I learned that numbering the store cc folders was the ONLY way I could get all the content to work. I never figured out why but I imagine it was because the mac series doesn't include expansions required for some of this content.

DETAILS (the codes) I put that grad school debt...I mean...those grad school research skills to good use and made up my own codes. Here they are... 0= files needed in every save aka my "essentials." These include repair files, shader/UI files, CEPs, global probes (like scriptorium, money globals, inteen checker, inventory checker, etc).

1= mods that do NOT need a load order, some OFB-themed sets I want to keep separate from other CC - like the #co2bellabrand or upcoming #co2cdkseries stuff.

2= mods that require a hard load order. As @episims writes HERE, this only works for mods with non-game-breaking conflicts between them. Only the last mod in the sequence will retain ALL its intended functions. The code for this section goes like this: [number]-[what the mod deals with in-game; i make sure to consider alphabetical order]-[load order number] -name of the mod(s)

I have several global mods that need to load as close to LAST as possible. These folders all start with "2-z-[load order #]-." The "2" tells me they need to load in a certain order and the "-z" makes them load after all the other #2 folders.

See Object Freedom 1.02 (@fwaysims, 2023) and Shiftable Everything (@lamare-sims, 2022) both load at #78? I don't have them BOTH in game at the same time, but giving them the same number ensures that the right load order stays no matter which one i'm paying with. 3 = build mode and neighborhood deco/defaults

4= buy mode

"ts1," "ts3," and similar labels = content that was converted for Sims 2.

5=CAS/bodyshop

OTHER DETAILS I also label folders with certain "type codes" - these tell me things like whether they add permanent data to my saves (custom memories, careers, foods, etc. do this) or whether they are maxis-match. Here are some examples:

-BIN = mod files which go in the program folders -DEF = default replacement -MEM = this content includes custom memory data -MM = maxis-match or an add-on for default game furniture -ADD = content that is not maxis-match -NPC = this content includes or changes one or more NPCs -FIX  or -EDIT = this is a fixed or uniquely edited version of a pre-existing mod -BETA and -TEST = this mod is unfinished and/or a test version Remember, conflicts do not always mean something has to be removed from your game, nor are all conflicts unresolvable. No matter what kind of method(s) you use to organize your game – it’s just important to try/have at least one in the cut.

CREDITS Thanks: Episims, PleasantSims, and all simmers who include load order/conflict notes. Sources: Beyno (Korn via BBFonts), EA/Maxis, Forcing the Load Order of Mods (whoward/Pick’N’MixSims, 2021 via sims2tutorials), Image(s) (Alexander, 2016), Offuturistic Infographic (Freepik).

...Oh and yes...I AM in fact an INTJ/Capricorn.

[jordosprout]

I Need To Know TBB Headcanons (S3 SPOILERS POSSIBLE PLEASE BE WARRY)

What do you think the batch spends their time doing on Pabu? What occupies their time now that they are retired? I have only pieces of ideas but I have been tryna find some other folks thoughts. But to get er' rollin' I'll share my ideas.

Wrecker

• He's definitely a community man from what we saw so

- Maybe he babysits

-Maybe he helps fish like we saw in the past

- Or perhaps he carries heavy equipment for repairs/building

Hunter

- Maybe he helps figure out the best fishing spot for every passing day

- Maybe he builds boats or surfboards? Definitely got old surfer vibes from him at the end of Bad Batch (I am so sorry but I could not get Barbie's dad(?) from that one surfer movie out of my head)

Crosshair

• Cross was the hardest to figure out for me due to how little of what he is skilled at outside of being a soldier. But once I thought about it I couldn't stop LMAO

- I think for a long time he struggles with figuring out what he wants to do now that he's free to be whoever he wants to be. He's used being told what to do, and now that he doesn't have someone controlling him he's having a difficult time adjusting. He probably asks Hunter to give him tasks frequently, and after a while he's given the task of taking care of himself. Learning what he wants.

- I definitely imagine him trying multiple things such as: fishing, farming, all the good stuff

- I see him landing on something creatively driven like tattoos and painting. But I do think it takes a lot of time and soul searching before he gets to that point.

- Probably really distant for awhile, he wants to be around the others but feels he doesn't deserve it

- Reluctant on getting a prosthetic, I can see him choosing not to have one

Omega

• Omega wasn't too difficult for me, seeing what she ends up going off to do at the end of the last episode.

- After using pieces of the Marauder to fix up her own ship with Phee (and Tech depending on your thoughts on it), I see her convincing Phee (again, and Tech depending on your opinion) to give her flight lessons.

- She practices the Tech Turn often, doing her best to perfect it. (If you think Tech should stay dead then let's say she does this late at night on her own and has gotten in trouble for it a plethora of times. She can never quite do it as he does. But if you're like me and he lives, then of course he'll help teach her.)

- Omega probably sneaks off a lot, wanting to explore her new home

- Then I think she eventually gets into contact with Herra, and that she's the one who convinces her to become a rebel pilot

Tech

• In my perfect Bad Batch, Tech is alive. He will always be here in my mind; even if I'll have to mourn him as a character in canon alive and well.

- Tech spends much of his time recording and noting down the things he learns about the new island he lives on. Likely going off with Omega.

- I think Tech and Phee try a relationship at one point or another, personally I see them deciding to break up but I can see them staying together. His calm nature mixing with her unpredictable one perhaps. Though I think their personalities might be too different for an intimate relationship.

- Tech probably has his own repair shop, or maybe he creates his own inventions.

More Group Stuff

- Definitely live together at least for a long while

- I think Hunter would get into a relationship before anyone else, then Wrecker getting into one kinda on accident? He'd be super oblivious and go on dates without realizing that's what they are. I think Cross n Tech would be last if they were to get into relationships (personally I see them on the aromantic spectrum, specifically Tech being demi and Cross being recip-romantic or Grey-romantic)

- They do a lot of stuff together, swimming, getting tattoos from Cross, therapy, family dinner all the lovely stuff

And I Think That's All I Got

Thanks for letting me ramble in your feed :)

[xoxoluka]

Could you write one about Schlatt and (streamer)reader meeting on the sdmp?? Maybe they met before years ago like 2020 but their friendship sort of fizzled out?idk

have a nice day🧚‍♀️💝

believe it or not i haven't caught up with sdmp EEK but i will i swear; i've only watched like the first stream and then other clips on tiktok, heres what I came up with!

jschlatt x streamer!reader headcannons

warnings: nothing crazy i don't think, schlatt's online persona

a/n: listen bro i dont really know what im talking about im doing my best, i made it headcannons because i can't write in-game content 😔

⚜ you received an invite to a new minecraft server, one ran by the Sleep Deprived podcast members.

⚜ the last server you were in... yeah, we won't talk about that. you had left it suddenly, and no longer associate yourself and your content with specific people. a few exceptions were tommyinnit, tubbo, and technically jschlatt, although it had been a while since you actually made any content together.

⚜ when you first joined, you met so many new faces and reconnected with a few old ones. or at least tried to. schlatt wouldn't let anyone even near his property, so you couldn't really have a conversation with him without him hitting you or banning you.

⚜ you had made it a mission to yourself, and even a prediction in your twitch chat that you would get schlatt to allow you onto his very special property.

⚜ clearly, we've all seen what happens when you're too loud near his property or if you enter it without his permission. you didn't want to end up like one of them

⚜ you knew schlatt had a very pretty view over the ocean on his property, and even a tiny beach area, and you wanted in, and you also may have had a small crush on him back in the day, so you and your chat made a plan.

⚜ it started with leaving small objects in front of his fence, or putting them in a chest with a sign that said 'for schlatt.'

⚜ you would leave him flowers, some things that you had heard him asking other people for, food, coal, iron ore, anything.

⚜ you had noticed him asking around for who left it, but no one had figured that it was you, so you continued.

⚜ you started leaving larger objects, like already crafted objects, and started sending him letters.

⚜ you sent him a letter, saying 'meet me at spawn tonight. :p'

⚜ once he arrived, he was incredibly skeptical, so you gave him your proposal.

⚜ "listen, schlatt," you start. "i have a proposal. if you let me live on your land, i'll continue to supply you with all of the goods i get. what's mine is yours, if what's yours is mine."

⚜ "hm," he ponders. "i'll think about it."

⚜ he grants you small things from then on, like you're allowed to come into his property, but not yet live. you build a house fairly close to his fence, and place shared chests where you store things that you find.

this was straight dookie my bad anon

requests still open!

© property of xoxoluka. do not repost.

[sysig]

Finally doodled HL Mod Stanley <3 (Patreon)

[spacecasehobbit]

Every so often, I find myself thinking of the kind of story that Billy could have had if it had been Neil who got flayed in S3, instead of Billy.

If it was Neil who went off to work one day, and came back Wrong... not because he came back mean, but because he came back too nice. Too calm, missing all the sneers and casual insults that are usually thrown Billy's way whenever they're in the same room; strangely unconcerned with Billy's life but too concerned with whatever Max and that new friend of hers are up to, instead of offloading "responsibility" for his step-daughter's every move to Billy under threat of violence if he doesn't make her stick to Neil's rules.

And Billy is the only one who notices just how wrong this all is.

Max listens to him about as well as she ever does - which is to say: not at all - when he tries to bring up Neil's behavior with her (admittedly, he probably brings it up with his usual amount of grace and tact, which is to say: also none). It's not like Billy can tell the cops that his dad is acting weird by being too nice, if he was even the sort of person who went to cops to solve his problems. He hasn't exactly cultivated the kind of friendships where they talk about his relationship with his shitty dad, either, so he's exhausted his extremely short list of people who might understand as soon as Max storms off in her usual cloud of pissy, righteous teenage anger at his inability to talk to her without being a dick right off the bat.

And like, he's not even entirely sure why he's bothering to try and understand this new leaf Neil's turned over? Shouldn't it be a good thing that his dad is mostly just ignoring him, that Neil's finally taking a bit of responsibility for the kid whose mom he decided to marry and play happy little family with in the first place?

It's just... it's weird, is all.

It's weird, and it grates at him, and he can't help but drag himself into this mess, looking for trouble even when it doesn't find him first as his dad likes - liked - to say whenever Billy got caught up in the consequences of his own poor decision making.

So long story short, Billy goes from the one always being watched to the one always watching his dad, discovers his dad may or may not be starting some kind of cult with all his (white, male, because the man's definitely got plenty of bigotry that Vecna's perfectly happy to play along with, as long as he gets his army somehow) coworkers, discovers that actually it may be a literal fucking Satan cult or some shit when some of those coworkers and/or his dad start bleeding black (and maybe he catches sight of that new friend of Max's displaying what are definitely magic fucking powers), and winds up stumbling into the midst of the Upside Down plot all on his lonesome just as things are coming to a climax with the melted-people-spidermonster at the brand new mall, of all places.

And maybe Billy's been doing some of his own rather difficult and unpleasant personal introspection and character growth, in between spying on his dad and discovering that his sister and her nerdy little friends know way too much about magic and monsters, but still can't seem to notice just how fucking weird her own step-dad is acting until he goes straight-up feral at their little magic friend, said magical friend shoves him through a brick wall with her brain, and he escapes without so much as a broken bone so far as Billy can tell from his vantage point, hidden what is suddenly looking like a much less safe distance away from whatever-the-fuck-that-was than he'd originally thought.

The point is, Billy's done some thinking of his own. Some growing as a person, even, one might say.

So by the time he follows his dad to the mall, he still honestly has no clue what the hell is going on, but he knows his dad has always been a bastard, and he knows that little magic kid his dad is dragging towards a horror movie spider monster the size of their house might be the only one who can save this stupid nonsense town full of monsters and cornfields and bullshit and maybe, possibly, a few people who don't deserve to die horribly in some insane alien monster apocolypse.

In this universe, instead of El making a last minute, desperate attempt to reach out to Billy with empathy before the Mind Flayer feeds her to the monster, it's Billy who steps in out of nowhere to distract his dad from this random little girl the monster seems to want so badly but isn't gonna get.

Because Neil's been acting weird. He's been ignoring his fuckup of a son, paying too much attention to Max and hasn't even called Billy a delinquent or an irresponsible fuckup or a faggot in nearly a week, and apparently he's possessed by a monster that might literally be from hell.

But Max seemed to think Neil was still somewhere in there when he went crazy on her little magic friend, and maybe she couldn't reach him, but Billy's spent half his life learning just how to push his dad's buttons and get Neil's attention lazer-focused on himself.

Pissing off Neil Hargrove is an artform that Billy's long since perfected.

It feels good to be doing it on purpose because he's trying to stand in front of someone else to keep them safe, for the first time since his mom left and he started thinking he had to care about himself first, since no one else was going to. Doesn't even feel afraid when he tells his dad loud enough for the peanut gallery to overhear that he was right all those years, he raised a filthy fucking faggot who likes dick instead of pussy, that he doesn't give a shit about respect and responsibility if those things are supposed to turn him into a Man like the one that Neil Hargrove's always been.

Billy's always been a disappointment to his father.

Somehow, that fact doesn't sting like it used to.

Now he's got proof his dad hates him enough to shake off a shadow monster from another world just to beat on his own kid, and Billy?

Billy meets his dad's rage with a fucking smile.

For once, his dad's hits don't hurt more than the ache of the physical bruises they'll leave behind, don't come packed with that extra kick of guilt and shame and longing for a dad who loves him. For once, he makes himself get back up, bloody teeth bared with all the feral hatred and rage fostered from years of living in fear of his own father, and he hits back at the man who was already a monster long before he ever got possessed by one from another world.

Billy was never gonna be the kind of son his father wanted, but it's on his own terms now. Because Billy's never gonna be the kind of man his father was, either.

And step one of being a better kind of person is making sure this stupid fucking town and his annoying bitch of a step-sister and all the other weird little nerds and annoying classmates she seems to hang out with and all the other blissfully ignorant hicks sensibly enjoying the 4th of July fair instead of fighting eldritch horrors in the mall, actually survive to see July 5th...

Even if that means fist fighting his dad in the mall while a little magic girl takes advantage of Neil's distraction to take on a melted flesh monster in the background of this brand new form of fucked up mess his life has somehow become.

[pepprs]

having some time alone in the hotel this week (which is abt to end bc we’re moving back home tmrrw even though the renovation isn’t finished 🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪) and being able to have the bedroom to myself has made me think rebellious thoughts my family would be very offended over. like maybe i listened to less and less music these last few years due in part to the fact that ive spentmore time at home than i used to and i also lived on campus w roommates in a very uncomfortable arrangement and im unable to move freely about the cabin when im living w other ppl whose needs don’t align w mine and so ive just gotten used to not having all of my needs met and always being the person to take the short end of the stick…. but i actually need to be able to sing and dance and draw and do whatever and when im alone (which is almost never) im able to do that and that’s actually legit and as important as anyone else’s needs in a space i share w them. idk if i worded that well but yeah

[applejarjar]

realizing I missed my window to have a very important and soul bearing conversation with my boss

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

*makes a whole bunch of art and crafts*

“I want to sell this so I can make EVEN MORE and also hopefully someone else will enjoy it!”

*can’t fucking drive because of my gods damned epilepsy*

“Alright, so, while I could probably walk this stuff to the ups store two blocks over during spring and fall, once it starts to get really snowy the sidewalks are going to be shit and i don’t want to risk damaging something before I can even send it!” 🥲🫠

[hoshigray]

𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Going on a date with the guy who broke your heart is something you’d never thought would happen – especially on Valentine’s Day! But it’s just for him to be in your good graces again, nothing more…Yeah, go ahead and tell yourself that.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining + confessions - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - going on a date - sex in a public space; hotel room - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (sucking and swiping) - missionary position - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up + Gojo doesn't shoot inside) - pet names (baby, cutie pretty, princess, sweetie) - angst + fluff - cameos: Shoko, Mei Mei, Utahime, Geto, Nanami - mentions of tears and spit - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (going out with a bang, jfc)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: final part to this short yet fun story !! tysm for the love you've given this series, it was a random idea that came to me last year and I'm so glad I was able to put more thought into it. all y'all's comments and rbs have been entertaining to read thru, love the support and engagement this story sparked with you, and I thank you sm for sticking around ccc: also!!! ty for 5.9k loveliessss mwah mwah~

and lol, yes, the title is based on the laufey song, hehe~

prev story » ❤︎

“Sorry, Satoru, Y/n doesn’t wanna see you right now — like, at all.”

“Oh, Gojo. Sorry, Y/n’s in no mood to talk to you right now. Said you better not make so much as a step past this door. Because if you do, I’ll have to charge your savings.”

“Hmph, you got some nerve, Gojo! Didn’t you hear from Mei Mei earlier? Y/n doesn't wanna talk to you…What the hell did you do this time?”

You could hear your roommates telling off the person showing up at the front door from your door. Before, they’d come to you and ask if you wish to give this person an audience for your presence. Yet you say the same thing: you’re not ready to converse with them. You’ll probably never want to talk with them again. 

It’s been like this for the past week. Ever since the little fiasco between you and Gojo — not to mention you slapping him across the face for his upsetting words — things between the two of you have been quiet as promised. The very last words you ever told him were to never speak to you again after publicly humiliating yourself by crying in front of him.

Outside of being the talk in everyone’s mouth (I mean, who wouldn’t gossip about one person slapping another after walking into them saying some mean shit about the other), you’ve been worried about by your friends ever since the incident. Your direct senior roommate, Utahime, was the first one to see you crying to yourself after coming home from classes and immediately called up Gojo to rip him a new one for making her junior roomie cry. Shoko was the passive one who listened to both sides yet still put your emotional state above anything else, telling Gojo white lies that you weren’t in your dorm room whenever he’d try to visit. And Mei Mei walked with you to your classes throughout the week in case the tall figure tried looking for you.

But it didn’t stop there. After that day, your Contemporary Issues course with Professor Naga was sheer awkwardness. The silent tension between you and Gojo was so thick that it effortlessly suffocated your peers and made it hard to concentrate — especially for the professor and your friends, Ijichi and Haibara. Outside of the class, you did your part in avoiding Gojo, and the same applies to the lectures you shared with him. No words, no greeting – not even a mere glance – were shared in his direction. It was as if your life mission was to avoid him at all costs.

However, this is Satoru Gojo we’re talking about. Although he respected your no-talking rule in the premise of lectures, he’d still try to get your attention once class was over. And even then, you’d bolt to the door to not give him the chance. He’d follow right behind you and have to maintain a respectable distance when Mei Mei was the light lavender eyes behind your back.

But what the hell did he expect? What he said hurt you to your core, so there was no way you’d want to speak with him again. He deserved that slap! The sting you inflicted on his face for a few minutes was nothing compared to the torment of your heart that’s been aching for a long while now. You can’t even look at Gojo after what had transpired. The pain he caused has been with you for a while, yet it still felt new and fresh to reflect on. 

And yet…your mind still can’t help but agonize you even more. Do you think it was easy to not engage with Gojo this entire time? Oh, it was the worst, both for your soul and mind. The memories of his smile and dimples would come up every often, pooling you deeper into your dread. The routine of him speaking to you with whispers when it was just the two of you — like he didn’t want others to find you in the comfort of each other’s presence — like it was sacred. And the way he said your name. It toyed with your heart whenever you’d reminisce it. 

“Y/n!”

Especially after how much has changed in your relationship with him, you really thought things between you and him were going for the better. Or, to be honest, becoming something a lot closer and personal. Something you grew to want with him as the days’ encounters and nightly calls went by. 

“Y/n...”

But you were wrong, lecturing yourself for being so dumb and naive for wanting such a thing. Amid the fun, you had forgotten what you two were and believed that you could change from that. Change with him. And yet here you are, broken-hearted, barely concentrating on your Word document on your laptop. 

“Hey, Y/n,” your brow twitched with the snap of reality, Utahime opening the door after knocking. “It’s the front door again; it’s—“

“GRRRAAAHHHHHHHHH!!” 

You were never one to shout within your apartment — Utahime’s eyes widened at the sudden shout of vexation. You stood up from your desk and walked past her, marching through the hallway. Mei Mei peeks from her shared room, and Shoko pours coffee in the kitchen. All three of your roommates observe you stomping to the door.

You swung the apartment door open with vigor, “I SWEAR TO CHRIST, GOJO, WHAT PART OF ‘DON’T EVER TALK TO ME’ DO YOU NOT UNDERST—…Geto?”

“Oh, hey there, Y/n. I was worried about you.” You were surprised to open the door and not find the unusual silver hair you expected. Instead, it was Suguru Geto, Gojo’s dark-haired direct roommate, rubbing his cold hands together that weren’t covered with his black windbreaker. Next to him was Kento Nanami, standing silently in his sand-colored trench coat.

“Hey, guys,” knowing they aren’t who you thought it would be, your shoulders relaxed with your tone. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Geto sighs heavily before telling anything. “We wouldn’t be here for a reason. And, after hearing what happened between you and you-know-who, I think you can guess why we're here, too.”

And then it hits — the realization of how these two’s abrupt appearance came to be. “…He asked you two to come and talk to me for him.” 

The two roommates look at each other for a second, and then Geto points behind him with his thumb to the stairwell door. You follow his finger, seeing the person you’re talking about watching you from the door window. You try not to contort your face into an ugly, exasperated expression in front of the other boys. So, you settle for a sigh to alleviate the stress growing inside you.

“Ugh. What is it.” You ask Geto with an attitude that wasn’t easily sheathed.

“Honestly, all I know is that he really – like, really – wants to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to him. So there,” you shake your head and backtrack past the threshold of your door. “Sorry you two came here for no reason, but I can’t—“

“—Wait!” Geto cuts you off and brings a hand on the door to stop you from closing it. You caught the intervention, widening the door again. Geto explains himself. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you—well, no, sorry. I get that Satoru said some things that hurt you last week. Believe me: I already lectured him hell and back for it when Shoko told me you came home crying, and you have every right to be mad at him right now…But—“

“Did he tell you what he said to me?”

“H—No, he didn’t,” your brow quirked at that response. He didn’t? “All he told me when I confronted him was that he messed up real bad and crossed a line.” 

“A line?” You enunciated after him. “That’s cute...Geto, he won’t tell you what he said because I caught him saying those things. That scumbag,” you averted your gaze to the door window, seeing Gojo gulp at your fierce eyes. “—knows what he said. And he knows that I told him I want nothing to do with him for that.”

Nanami was quiet throughout the entire thing, so it took you aback when he spoke. “And I’m on your side in that regard. You’re right, he is a scumbag; tactless, crude, borderline annoying—“

“Just borderline?” Geto points the word out to lighten the mood.

“And the type of person to get on someone’s nerves purposely. And with that, I don’t blame you for cutting him off. If anything, it’s what he deserves, if not more.”

You knew there was more to say beyond that. “And yet…"

“And yet,” Nanami picks it up. “…I’d be lying if I said that guy doesn’t know when he’s at fault. He can be prideful and childishly playful — albeit disrespectful to anyone he thinks doesn’t deserve it. However, he’s not emotionless, and if he is disrespectful to his friends, he knows when he’s in the wrong.“

“And take it from me, Y/n.” Geto comes in with the assist now that things are a bit calm. “Fucking asshat will take days to apologize to me for something stupid, and that’s if he feels like giving me one. But even if he doesn’t, I know he cares about me like any best friend…Like he cares about you.”

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, so you close them and shake your head. “He doesn’t care—“

“Yes, he does.” Nanami doesn’t let you finish that sentence. “Like I said: Gojo is many things, but he’s not an emotionless moron. Because I can tell that whatever he said distraught you to your core and made him feel bad about it — pathetically so.”

“…How do you know?” You don’t know why you asked that question; why the fuck should you care? The fucker in question is the one that broke your heart behind your back, so why bother?

“Because when he came home that day, Geto pulled him by the shirt, threw him against the wall, and yelled at him like no tomorrow. And he just stood there, letting Geto give him his rightful lashing. He even told him he didn’t deserve you as a friend, which I agreed with. But then Gojo said something after that…”

Again, this isn’t something you should be caring about. So why are you turning to Geto to ask, “…What did he say?”

“He said I was right, that he definitely didn’t deserve you.” Before the raven-haired boy answered, he exhaled through his nostrils. “And that what he said about you was, by far, the dumbest thing he’s ever done, which is saying a lot.”

“A whole lot.” The blond-haired boy jumped in. “Y/n, don’t take this as me vouching for him. But, if you could have seen the look on his face when he said that,” he nods when you shake your head ‘no’ again. “You would feel the guilt and shame pouring from him. It was pathetic to look at — pathetic for him to express. But it was real.”

And you know it’s the truth — not because it came from Nanami, but because you could picture the scene as if you were there. You could just imagine Gojo’s face, a dangerous move as your heart skipped with a twinge. You imagine the emotions he was expressing, your skin crawling thinking about his blue eyes – usually filled with life and light – appearing so broken and devoid of animation. 

“He does care about you — there’s no mistake about it. You two have been friends since freshmen year; he’d be an idiot to let those years go down the drain because of him. And that’s why we went along with coming here in his stead and asking you to talk to him.” You open your mouth, but Geto isn’t finished. “Please, Y/n. You’re the mature one, but you don’t have to act strong on this one. I can only assume, of course, but I’m sure you want this handled, too.”

He wasn’t wrong, yet at the same time, you couldn’t shake the heavy feeling that was weighing you down. 

“I…I don’t want to speak with him.” The two guys didn’t change their facial expressions. “Not now, at least...I don’t want to see his face right now.”

“Then how about a phone call later tonight?” Nanami proposed. “You two can talk it out with each other after you guys think about what to say to each other. You can even have the call while we’re sleeping so you can have privacy.”

“Ehhh, but I’m nosy.” Geto teases his sophomore roommate, making the younger blonde huff. 

“Not tonight, you are. Plus, you got a project to present tomorrow, so you need sleep.”

“Fair, fair…But seriously, Y/n, you should talk with him. If not for him, then for us, for Shoko, Utahime, Mei Mei, all of us. We don’t want you upset about what this idiot did this time. So, one talk should be okay, right?”

It should be okay. Keyword: should. However, the anxiety that you harbor within your limbs tells you otherwise. The pool in your stomach churning into a state you find uncomfortable to fight against. 

But concurrently, you couldn’t lie to yourself; a piece was missing in all of this. The resolution was needed — there had to be a way to see the entire picture in this matter. Otherwise, you’d be walking around campus mad at the person behind a door examining your reactions for the entire semester — no, the whole next year! You knew you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that. You can barely go through it right now. So, might as well get this off the table before it worsens…At least, that’s what you say to rationalize.

“…Okay,” you straightened your posture. “The girls have morning classes tomorrow. Tell him to call me at midnight.” 

Your answer sealed the deal, the two males dismissing themselves before you closed the apartment door. Your roommates peered around the corner once they heard the door lock, coming to ask if you were all right. You molded a faux smile and said you were fine, and yet you couldn’t tell if that was a lie to them or yourself. 

From there, the time felt so long to witness and experience throughout the day, watching one hour pass after the other. The sun had never settled under the horizon so slowly before, taking its time to draw the curtains of darkness over the Earth. And yet the time went fast simultaneously — the minutes spooked you every time you looked at the clock. 

Was this the universe’s way of toying with you for agreeing to talk to Satoru Gojo? It had to be. Your stomach doing somersaults didn’t help either; you could barely get through eating dinner because the dreaded talk bound to happen in a few hours was all your mind could think about. 

And then, when everyone was fast asleep ten minutes before midnight, your nerves couldn’t settle down. Five minutes before, you decided to take yourself and the phone to the bathroom (because the fan would be loud enough to tune out your conversation), needing the tiny space to yourself to pace back and forth and not to disturb Utahime snoring away. One minute before, you were sitting on top of the toilet, watching the seconds go by on your phone, praying that he wouldn’t call on the dot. He wouldn’t buzz you at the immediate stroke of twelve, right? He had to be doing something — anything else — hoping he’d spare you another minute if he could.

BZZZR!! BZZZR!!

However, that wasn’t the case. He called you right on the dot, and your heart jumped at the vibration from your phone. His display name was titled ‘do not answer this jerk,’ a change you made the day after the incident. Yet here you are, in the bathroom, and your thumb shaking over the green button. 

It wasn’t until the sixth vibration that you pressed the button with a sharp inhale, bringing the phone to your ear with haste. The silence was in the air for a couple of seconds, worsening your anxiousness. Until—

“…Hey.” He was the first to say something, thank God.

“Hi…..Where are you?”

“Outside my apartment, sitting on the stairwell...You?”

“In the bathroom.”

“You sitting on the toilet?”

You know what he was doing, making the conversation easier before getting to the hard stuff. Nonetheless, you admit it was working while your nervous state gradually deteriorated. “…And what if I am?”

“Then I’d say….Heh, actually, no. I can’t make that joke right now. Not when we’re like this.”

“Mmm, like this…” You hummed, the awkward tension filling the silence once again. “….Look, Gojo—“

“Before you say anything,” he cut you off, but you allowed it. “I have a lot I wanna say to you, and I want to get them out the way before I forget and never get the chance to say them to you…Can I say them?”

Your brows scrunched together, your free hand drawing reassuring circles on your thigh, and your teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “…Go ahead.”

“Okay…So, first off,” you held your breath to brace yourself. “What I said about you on that day — I’m not gonna sit here and say I didn’t mean those things when I said them because I did. But NOT in the way you’re thinking.”

“Then what way did you mean them, Gojo?”

“I meant them in the implication that I was trying to protect what you and I had.” Had? “Our relationship was being questioned, some girl was asking about us and…I know you weren’t ready to have our business out in the world yet, so I thought….I just said what was believable with how everyone sees us since we’re always butting heads and shit. So, I said and meant those things to protect us in the heat of the moment. And then…I guess I got carried away.” 

“You guess you got carried away?” You repeated, your anxiousness now substituting for subtle anger. “…Just a little person angry at the world around them? So exhausting to deal with someone so boring and uncute as me?”

“Holy fuck, you remember it all—“

“Of course I did!” How could you not!? “And then — hmph, now this one I’ll never forget — ‘I’ve seen prettier, been with better, I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them’…” Your emotions were a mix of offense and pain, irritation and misery. Despite that, your voice maintained a calm tone, even if you wanted to do nothing but yell at the screen. Yet that wouldn’t solve this. “Gojo, the fact that I know all of that, verbatim, and have refused to talk, think, touch, or even look at you since them…To say you got carried away is just…like, holy fuck. Who the hell were you?” 

He didn’t say anything for a minute, but you couldn’t blame him. Being hit with his own words like that, any moral human being would stop and let that shit simmer into their skin. 

“…I’m sorry,” you wanted to call bullshit so bad, but not after he followed up with this. “Really. I’m so…so fucking sorry, Y/n. I know that shit wasn’t cool, and, to be honest, I expected more than one slap for that. I only meant it to save you the burden of gossip; believe me when I say that.”

“I—ahem…” Nope, you were not going to do this. Not tonight. “I want to believe you, Gojo. But I just…I can’t; it hurts my head thinking about it.”

“I know…I did that to you, and I’m so fucking sorry. My foot was too far up my mouth when I said all that, just one useless thing after another….And you know what’s crazy? I think my conscience knew me spouting shit wasn’t the right call. I mean, I literally walked with you to the class that day; what kind of friend does that and say shit like that afterward? And when I saw you….the way you looked so…distant? Just like that, everything that we had was just gone. I couldn’t see it — I saw absolutely nothing when I saw you. That scared me, seeing the happiness and the smile you had minutes ago just vanish with the flip of a switch. And I fucking did that. I knew at that moment that I lost you…..Y/n…? Are you crying?” 

You immediately moved the phone away from your ear, covering your mouth with the arm of your sweatshirt. The cries you tried to suppress poured out at that moment, and the pain that scratched your insides left your system with every sob and intake of breath. The tears damped the material, soaking them in as they rolled down your cheeks.

As ways to start the eve of your Monday, crying with the person who broke your heart on the phone was not one you expected to be one of them. It all hurt: the rapid emotions, the memories of that day replaying in your head, the genuine sincerity expressed in his voice. It was all too fucking much, your face heating up to a concerning level that you’d think you’d blow up.

You give yourself a few seconds before bringing the phone to your ear, “….What else?” 

“Huh?”

“You said—sniff—that you had other things you wanted to say to me.” A change of subject was necessary, not wanting him to notice the broken crack of your voice. “So, what else?”

The request took him aback, but he knew better than to question or fight you. “…Second of all, I wanna say – since I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance to tell them to you in person – I want you to know that you’re more than what I said. There’s nothing 'kinda' pretty about you — you’re pretty all over. I’m not saying that to butter you up; it’s something I’ve said to myself all this time…Who am I kidding, saying I’ve been with prettier and better when I hurt the most beautiful and kindest one my eyes ever laid on….? Boring and uncute? Heh, you’re anything but. Sure, I say you're uncute when you nag at me to no end, but I don’t think there’s been a single day that I’ve thought you were a sore for my eyes. You’re too gorgeous for that.”

“Gojo—“

“I don’t deserve you as a friend, Y/n.” Your breath hitched. “Honest. I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now. And yet, you gracing me with time to spare shows that I really don’t have the right to have you close to me…I’m sorry.”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he was honest about his apology. You felt it in your bones; your gut told you what Gojo told you was true. Your anger was nowhere to be found, but your guard was still up.

You slowly exhale through your mouth before taking your turn in the conversation. “So…Is that all?” 

“….”

“…Gojo?”

“….”

“Gojo? Are you still—“

“I like you.”

Okay, you lied; your guard wasn't up for that.

There’s no way he just said that. There’s no way those three exact words left his mouth and entered your eardrums. They kept ringing throughout your head, bouncing off the walls of your cranium with each repeated syllable. Your eyes widened by the second, your body coming to a complete standstill. And yet, the only thing that was moving and showed signs of life was your heartbeat increasing with the silence.

He likes you. The Gojo Satoru — your frenemy, annoying peer, and friend who enjoys your yelling and nagging — likes you.

“You…You what?” You heard him perfectly, but you wanted to confirm this wasn’t some joke.

“I like you.” He didn’t hesitate to replicate. “I do, I really do. I’ve liked you for….quite a long while, way before we started having sex together.”

“How long ago is that?”

“I think since the spring semester of freshman year when we had started to get a little closer before you became friends with Geto...Yeah, for a while now.”

“…Why?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you like me? 

You heard him sigh out a large breath before answering. “…To be honest, I just like how you…are you. Like, you’re not scared to be yourself around me. Many people I’ve known try to kiss my ass for me to call them a friend, and even then, those guys are assholes…But you, I don’t see that — I never saw that. You’d never kiss my ass; you’d always be down to tell me when I’m wrong or right. Being around you was different from other people; I felt comfortable around you like you were one of my friends.” 

You didn’t intervene, listening to every word he was to say. 

“Not to mention…Heh, you’re so cute. Like, actually. And pretty, and independent, and bright. I can’t count how many times I’ve been lost in my thoughts about you. Especially recently, you’re all that I can think about. I like how it feels to hold your hand, and your fingers look small against mine. I could never get enough of you talking to you; it’s one of the things I look forward to. And, holy fuck, the way you smile. I swear, you could kill me with that face of yours. And your eyes — I’m always told mine are so beautiful to look at, yet I find that impossible whenever I get stuck when you look at me….Y/n? Are you—You’re not crying, are you?”

You said in sniffles. “You’re such a fucking asshole, Gojo…”

“Huh!? Why??”

“You break my heart one day and then say all these things the next…Are you trying to tell me that stunt you pulled is that dumb thing where people say stupid shit about someone else because they like them?”

“Hey, I told you why I said them! Besides, those two bimbos were getting in our personal life, and we didn’t have anything to call our relationship, so…!”

“Sniff—And you! Why didn’t you tell me you liked me for so long instead of annoying me to no end?”

“I could’ve done that, but…I don’t know. I guess our relationship was easier the way we had it. Things were less complicated for you. Plus, you’re cute when you’re angry at me.”You had to scoff at that. Of course, he’d say something like that. He can be such a prick sometimes. “I was okay with how things were, being all naggy and arguing with you while secretly close to you. I didn’t want to change something we were used to into something more.”

“Mmm.” You could only hum to that sentence, letting his words sink in before saying anything. “…Would it have been a bad thing if it was something more?”

He didn’t answer immediately, indicating that he took the question in serious thought. “No…I wouldn’t have minded. But that decision was all yours to make.”  

“Gojo,” The words you were about to say were about to be so nerve-wracking that you had to take in a deep breath. Chewing on your lips while exhaling through an open mouth. “….Would it be a bad thing if I said….that I liked you, too? And that…I still like you—”

KA-BANG-BANG!!

You jumped at the sudden sound coming from the other side of the line, as it was not the response you were expecting, and you could hear him saying curses further from the phone. After a few brief seconds, Gojo’s voice comes back.

“Fuck, sorry, sorry! I just dropped my phone on the stairs!” He sounded so worried, as if he lost you. “You.…You like me?”

“Yeah, I do…” Gosh, you didn’t think this would happen, the heat on your cheeks expanding to your ears and neck. “I really do. And I’m also willing to forgive you. BUT, you have to prove your worth by redeeming—“

“I WILL!” Again, it wasn’t the reaction you were expecting! He replied with such momentous excitement that you could imagine the sparkle in his blue eyes. “I will, I promise! In fact, I have an idea; how about I take you out on a date?” 

Huh!? “A date??”

“Yeah, on Valentine’s Day, this Wednesday! I know this great place not too far from here, or maybe you wanna go to a small café to wind down from classes? You can pick—”

“Wait, wait! We have classes that day; we have our night class with Professor Yaga—“

“We could skip—“

“Hell. No.” You shut him down with quickness. “We’re going over some serious discussions that day for our papers on Friday; we’re just gonna have to do the date after class.” 

“Pfft, God, you can be such a geek sometimes.”

For the first time that night, you rolled your eyes. “Says the Digimon-fanatic talking to me right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He snickers at the phone, and your heart swoons at it. It felt like you hadn’t heard that laugh in ages. “So…Is that a yes?”

It had you thinking for a temporary moment; talking with Gojo again just felt so…familiar. It was something you’d been missing for the past week, accepting that you’d never experience it again. And here he is, inviting you on a date? This was, by all means, a weird night. An apology, a confession, and now being asked out? 

Regardless, you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to be by his side again. And with a chance like this, why brush it off? “Yes, I accept your date.” 

“Then it’s a Valentine’s date. Cool.”

“Cool.” You awkwardly repeated after him, becoming squeamish with the brief silence. “Okay, well, now that we talked. I need to get some sleep.”

“Mmm, okay. Go get your sleep, then. Be sure to think of me in your dreams~”

Your head is shaken again, this time with a smile. “Whatever. I’ll try…Think of me too, Satoru.”

“I always do, Y/n.” Jesus, the way he gently and affectionately said your name. Is this what it’s like to admit you like someone? “Good night.”

“Good night…Oh, wait! You said you had a joke earlier.”

“Hmm…Oh, yeah?”

“Well, now that we’re kinda on good terms…What was the joke?”

“Oh! I was gonna say it’s kinda a shame that you’re sitting on a toilet and not on my face.”

“Goodbye, Gojo.”

“PFFFT, No, wait, I’m so—“

CLICK!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

As far as dates go about, this is one that Satoru Gojo was the most nervous about. 

As promised, after your class with Professor Naga ended, Gojo waited for you with his car on Main Street by your dormitory. He was already dressed for the date, adorned with a black turtleneck and jeans that matched his Chesterfield coat. But you had a few things you wanted to touch up on before going out for the night, so he texted back that he’d wait for you outside.

What he didn’t expect was being instantly shot down by you once you came down and walked to his car. Because holy fucking shit, you looked so fucking beautiful. If this was a “touch-up,” all the people he went on dates on must’ve not been trying.

You were wearing a black halter long-sleeve top; your collarbone and shoulders were out for his eyes to trace and breathe to hitch. Your arms were shielded by a hoodie that looked a bit big for you but did its job of protecting you from the cold winds. And black thigh socks that contrasted with the plaid skirt and the puffy boots. And…did you put on lipgloss on? Holy shit.

“So,” you’d say meekly to catch his attention since he’s examining your every feature. “I’m ready…” They were simple words, yet they had the power to have him stop leaning on the car and grab the door for you. You were chewing on your lip, avoiding his gaze that watched every step you took. “You’re staring, Satoru…”

“Hmm? Oh! Sorry...” He’d close your door and mutter, scratching his neck where the heat from his ears crawled around. 

And from there, the date began. The plan? He wanted to take you to some fancy restaurant, but you politely declined and told him you’d settle for dinner and a movie. And you two did just that, going to this burger joint that was popping off when you entered. You two sat at a booth by a window, enjoying your food and conversing about each other’s day.

“You did not have to do that.” You said in giggles, bringing a fry to your mouth. 

“I did, too!” Gojo replied after taking a big bite from his burger. “The fucker almost tried to dirty my basketball shoes; do you know how much those shits cost? Expensive as hell.” 

“Yeah, but to push your buddy to an ice bath because he almost dirtied your shoes?” You shook your head with a smile. “And all shoes are expensive these days, Satoru.”

“Yeah, well, mine were custom-made. So,” he takes another bite. “Serves him right.”

Gojo didn’t notice it himself, but you saw a bit of ketchup on the corner of his mouth. Tending to your friend’s obliviousness, you grab a napkin and stretch to him. At first, he thought you were giving it to him to wipe it off himself; nope. You did it for him, tenderly dabbing the condiment off his lip. 

And you didn’t even notice what you were doing until your eyes met his, instantly pulling your hand back. “Sorry! You just…had something on there…”

“Mmm, thank you…” he said it low, but you heard him. What you couldn’t hear, thank God, was the beat of his heart going at an unsteady rate. It took a minute for you two to shuffle uncomfortably for the conversation to flow back.

After the dinner was the movie, a random action movie that you two felt interested to see. And it wasn’t that bad of a film; the plot was pretty subpar, the acting mediocre, but overall, a good movie. 

However, Gojo couldn’t focus on the movie for lengthy periods because his eyes would usually drift to the right of him where you sat, surveying how engrossed you were watching the film that you didn’t notice him. God, even in the dark, you looked so gorgeous and cute. 

Sometimes, he’d glance at your armchair and look at your hand, the inner dialogue between himself on whether he should go for it and place his hand on top of yours. But he doesn’t do it. He wants to, but he can’t, not like this. It was killing him so much; the feeling of wanting to touch you and have you against him again was haunting him — they’ve been haunting him for the past few days now.

“Fuck…” he’d mutter under his breath, but you wouldn’t hear because of the sound of explosions coming from the theater speakers. He wanted you but didn’t want to mess this date up. He couldn’t afford to screw this chance with you, he just couldn’t. 

Once the movie was over, he’d walk with you to the parking lot where the car was parked. The chill winds of February crawl up on your bodies, and you bundle up into your warm hoodie. “Did you enjoy the movie?”

He hummed with a tilted head. “Meh, I’ve seen better. It wasn’t too bad. What about you; you liked it?” 

You looked up to ponder and shrugged, swaying side-to-side as Gojo leaned on his car. “Yeah, it was okay. There’s better stuff out there.”

“You just saying that to agree with me?” 

“No, maybe you’re reading my mind and copying my answers.” You give a tiny smug look, only for him to smile along.

He then asks, “So…did I do good with this?” He can’t lie; how you lifted your brow instead of giving an immediate answer made him a little nervous. And with the tilt of your head and turning your body fully towards him, you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. You hand him your verdict:

“I think so. You treated me to good food, didn’t try to poison me, and got a free movie ticket out of it.” You jokingly punch his chest. “Yeah, I liked this date, Gojo. Consider yourself redeemed.”

He snickers lightly, “Good, I don’t think I can take another day of you being mad at me.” That made you giggle; good. Things go quiet for a while, and he averts his stare downward. His eyes land on your hand, the thoughts from the movie theater teetering back to his head. Goddamn it, he really wants to touch you—

“I can see you staring through those glasses, Gojo.” And just like that, you propelled your hand to link with his, making the tall boy flinch. “Your subtlety is wearing thin.”

Your teasing tone evokes a chuckle disguised in a sigh from Gojo, his fingers slithering to intertwine with yours. “What makes you think so?”

You peer up to him. Fuck, your eyes were so beautiful. “You were practically staring daggers at me while watching the movie. Am I on your mind that much?”

“Yes.” You expected a different answer – something more playful – and it’s why you couldn’t breathe after he brought his face closer to yours. “Infintely.”

Suddenly, the cold air didn’t bother you anymore. The heat on your face blossoms across your cheeks and ears while maintaining eye contact. “Am I on your mind right now?” He nods, your noses barely brushing each other. You whisper to him, “What are you thinking about?”

“I wanna kiss you.” He closes his eyes; you can see from his shades. “I want to hold you like I did before.” The hand clutching yours gets firmer. “I want you…Just you.”

The way he has with words effortlessly pulls you in, his voice comforting to the point you allow him to put his other hand around your waist. You faintly reply before connecting your lips with his. “I want you too…Satoru.”

When he pecks your lips, a feeling you two feared was wiped off the Earth returns to warm your bodies. Your hands instantly go around his neck like usual, sighing through your nostrils as you permit to sink into his hold and kiss.

Gojo uses this to bring his hand behind your neck to keep you on him, the kiss becoming more passionate by the second. He licks on your bottom lip, a sign of wanting entry. So, you open and lick him back before he takes the initiative to put his tongue inside your mouth. And you moan into his lips — fuck, how he missed the sounds you’d make for him. It felt like forever since the last time he heard them. 

This moment brings the spark between you two back, the sounds of the world around you drawing out from your space. All that mattered was you being in his embrace and him having you with him like this again. It all felt right — being with each other — with nothing bothering this peace meant for you two.

So much so that Gojo took it upon himself to convince you to stay with him tonight at a nice hotel close by, where you two couldn’t get off each other the moment you closed the door to your room. Hot kisses are exchanged as you two remove each other’s clothing, Gojo undoing your bra and lifting you to place on top of the bed. 

His lips never leave yours, even when his hands play with your chest. Your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer as he rocks into you. Your core down south experiences throbs that entail you want him, your horniness dialing up with every grind of his groin.

He breaks the kiss to playfully bite your lip so he can hear you yelp for him, placing his lips from your chin down to your neck. You say in shaky breaths, “Hahhh, Satoru, please touch me more…”

He lifts his lips from your clavicle, “Of course, princess; you know I always got you.” He then licks from your collarbone down to one of your nipples in a tantalizingly slow fashion, your body squirming from anticipating what he’s about to do. His tongue finds its way to swirl around the bud, having your hum to the wet touch. And when he decides to suck it into his mouth when it’s hardened, you gasp. 

But it doesn’t stop there, one hand tweezing the other nipple as he licks around the one in his mouth. The free one snakes down your abdomen to your skirt, lifting the material for his digits to meet the damp spot of your panties. 

You jerk at the feeling of him moving the material to the side, rubbing his bare fingers on your precious, wet cunt and clit. “Ahhnn! Satoru, Satoru—Mmmm…” He rubs around on your folds in circles before adding his forefinger smoothly inside, his slender digit efficiently rubbing your vaginal walls have you holding back whimpers. 

When he thinks you’re ready enough, he adds his middle finger inside. Both his digits scrape and graze around your inner walls, provoking silent screams to leave your lips. Your fingers find his hair to tug, which only has him suck on your breast more. 

“Hooohhh, mmmmh…Right there, right thereee…please—Ohooo…!” You moan to him, your thighs jerking with every scratch of his fingers in your chasm.

“Mmm…you close, pretty?” Gojo releases your nipple for a quick second, returning it inside his warm mouth after he sees you nod hurriedly. “Hold tight, okay? Lemme get you ready, sweetie…”

You cry at the increase in speed, the nails of his fingers scraping the velvety tender spots inside you. Your body jerks to him as your hands find his shoulders to pinch on. Gojo lets go of your bud once again to move his lips down south, spreading your legs to take a look at your mess.

“Holy shit,” he says with a bitten lip before he crouches down to kiss your clit after slipping your panties off. “I fucking missed this pretty thing so fucking much.” He licks your soapy folds up to your clit, drowning the delicate button with feverish laps of the tongue. It has you screaming his name, and he loved that so fucking much.

Gojo stuffs his face to your slit, drinking your essence while teasing the clit with fast swipes. Your wails get louder and louder, and he doesn’t make it any easier when he keeps your legs spread for him to continue his work. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, I’m—“Ahhahnn!!”

That’s when you come onto his face, your cunt spasming with electric pulses and your legs shaking with every hit of your orgasm. And he keeps on sucking and licking your fluids; you’d think he’s sucking the life out of you. But you can’t blame him; the boy is starved for you.

He soon withdraws his face from between your legs when you’re done with wailing and crying, licking his lips and leaving off the bed to take out a condom, throwing his jeans and drawls to the floor. But then something is wrong, and you can see it when Gojo presses his lips into a thin line before climbing back to the bed and maneuvers on top of you. He aligns the glans of his cock to the entrance of your vagina, and it’s there that you notice he doesn’t have the rubber on.

“I…I forgot to bring a condom, sweetie.” He says to you in a tune that harbors slight worry, and you can tell from his azure eyes that he’s a little nervous about this step. You held back a giggle; for once, he looked adorable when worried about something.

“…How good is your pull-out game?” You ask, half-jokingly.

His white brows trench together. “Are you sure?” 

You nod and kiss him on the cheek. “I trust you, Satoru, so just be careful, okay?” 

He blinks at you, taken aback by your lack of resistance. Yet, at the same time, he knew you needed this just as much as he did. So, with that in mind, he pushes the glans into you, observing your breathing to gauge how much to propel inside. The tip of his length then bullies itself inside you, a sharp gasp coming from your sweet lips while Gojo moans at the raw feeling of you around him.

“—Hnnn! H–Hooooly fuck,” with every inch he pushes inside of you, the sensation of your pussy chills him up his spine. The rubber had been shielding this away from him, every dent and smooth tissue of you wrapping around him. Oh, fuck, this was a dangerous game to play. “Oh, shiiit, you feel so fucking good..”

You could agree with that notion, experiencing his naked girth inside you for the very first time. You could feel his veins graze against your walls, the curve scraping your spots tenderly. “Ohhhh, fuck, you too, ‘toru…Oh my God…”

Even starting with slow thrusts was a hard card to pull, the subtraction of the condom making this feel so new and fresh — a scary dance to do with two young lovers. He pulls his cock slowly til halfway up the tip and then rushes it back inside to your wetness. Your pretty purrs fly out with every movement.

Gojo takes this time to look at you with your disheveled figure sprawled out for him to see and pick at like eye candy. Watery eyes batting up at him with pleasure behind half-lidded orbs, your chest that he loves so much out for him to give a nipple another tweak, and your legs curling around him as his tempo increases. You’re so fucking beautiful, and he’s so lucky to be able to have you under him again. He wouldn’t want it any other way — he wants to belong to you and you with him. It’s a dream he’d kill to have with you.

“Y/n…” he says your name in a shaky breath, groaning at your slit clamping onto him so suddenly. “Can I…Be your boyfriend?”

You didn’t have enough time to react appropriately because Gojo hammers his cock into you with no warning. You scream out for him to stop, to wait a minute so you can give an adequate response! But no, he ruts into you like his hips have a mind of their own, forcing you to cling onto him for dear life as the curve of his length jabs you in places that have you rolling your eyes to the stars.

“—Ahahhnn!! Ahhh! W-Wait, Satoruuuu!!” Your words slur out with a hot breath, drool coming down your mouth with no control. “You want me….Mmnph! To be your—“

“Yes! Oh, fuck…yes!” He says with no hesitation, slamming his pelvis down to your pussy so fast that his balls smack on your taint. Oh, fuck, this felt way too damn good! “I wanna be yours, and I want you to be mine—Hooooh….No one else’s…!”

“Nnahh…!! Ohhh, my God, fuuuuck…!” Your heart beats eighty miles per hour, your whole body endures heat shared with Gojo, and your thoughts travel too fast to keep up. He wants to be my boyfriend? He wants to be my boyfriend! “…R–Really?”

“Yeah, really, really.” He smiles breathlessly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let’s be a couple, yeah? I want you so bad; you drive me so fucking crazy—Hannhh!! Shit, shit… I don’t want to hide this anymore — to hurt my cutie anymore. Let’s make this official so I can be with you without worries.” He snaps his hips harshly, grinding his pelvis with the flex of his abs, provoking more horny howls to seep from your puffy lips. He lowers to whisper to your ear while a hand clings to yours on the side. “Whatcha say, princess, hmm? Let’s be together….Hmmm…!”

Holy fuck, this is not a confession you were expecting while having your insides churned out, with your crush between your legs, in the middle of a hotel room, on Valentine’s Day. Your mind was getting foggy enough from the hot commotion in your inner thighs — now your head was filling up with fantasies of being with Gojo as a couple! This was beyond bizarre, something out of a fucking movie! 

And yet, you couldn’t find any reason to say no! There’s no denying it — those feelings Gojo had for you were the same as you had for him. You feel so happy being around him, in his hold, whispering and expressing his vulnerable side to you, and you’d want to throw all that away? Hell no! 

“—Mmm, yessss,” you can’t help but shed a little tear at him, to which he readily dries away with a thumb. “Yesss, Satoru, I wanna be yoursss — please…take care of me!”

Gojo slams his lips onto yours, your mewls taken by hungry lips while his strokes go at a rapid tempo. You almost choke on his spit from the way your clit catches abrupt hits from his pelvis, and the tip of his dick pokes your fragile spots with precision. 

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! You felt it; it’s coming. You felt it in your bones, the shivers crawling up your spine as you inhaled to prepare. “Maahhh! ‘Toruuu, I’m gonna cumm…! Quick, pull out—Oooooo!!” 

Thank God you gave him a warning. The tall other was too lost in the feeling that he was just about to come inside you! He removes his body off of yours to swiftly pull his member out, using his hand to finish the job for him, although he already misses the warmth of your cunt. 

He comes at the same time as you, his load shooting out from his urethra and spilling onto his hand. White fluids slide between his fingers as he continues to stroke himself off while your legs twitch and your slit contracts and flutters on nothing, letting the wave of your climax pass on through with every howl. 

The air of the hotel room cools your bodies after disconnecting your sexes off each other, and huffs and pants from heaving figures are evidence of you two trying to find your balance in the world. Sky-blue eyes lock in with yours, and he laughs in faint puffs.

He crawls his way back between your legs after wiping his hand, placing kisses up your neck and chin. “Hahhh, fuck, that felt way too good.”

“Mhmm,” you hum with him, letting him place his head in the crook of your neck. 

“Hey,” he traces a finger along your collarbone. “Wanna skip classes tomorrow?”

Your eyebrows draw upward. “One day of Valentine’s isn’t enough?”

“Nope~. Plus, I wanna make up a week’s worth of not being around you.”

“Pfft, sure,” you stifled a laugh. “But you need a single day to do all that?” 

He lifts his head with a grin. “Well, we don’t have enough clothes to stay here until Saturday.” He maneuvers himself to lie on his side. “Why? You doubt I can do it?”

“You’re free to prove me wrong,” you give him a sneer. “I suggest you start getting to work.” You didn’t expect your words to flip a switch, causing the snow-haired other to grab you by the legs to him. He restrains your hands above your head, and you can’t fight the giggles from his playful manner.

“With pleasure,” he claims your lips again, your sweet murmurs entering his ears.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Psst, oh my God, do you see that?”

“Holy shit, this can’t be real!”

“Woah…Am I in the right universe?”

“Satoru, I told you people would stare…hurry and let go of my hand—“

“Nope! I like where your hand is right now~.”

It was like this the entire day. Ever since your Valentine’s Day date with Gojo, things instantly returned to where they were supposed to be and more! It was amazing how one day could make the bitterness of the weeks prior dissipate with the February wind. There was nothing to be scorned about —nothing to be scared of — everything felt clear to you and the person you were holding hands with.

After that date successfully went well — and won your heart in more ways than one, you’ll admit — you and Gojo decided it was time to unveil the status of your relationship. No more secrets, no more hiding feelings for each other; you two were officially a couple, both in private and outward!

Spending two days alone together felt like a dream, being so close to each other without worrying about being seen and critiqued in the eyes of others. But now, back on campus grounds, you can’t go back on your promise and have to walk with your cheeks and ears burning as Gojo’s fingers tighten the grasp around yours. 

Of course, the change of pace was a complete shock to the students and staff on this Friday. The number of perplexed gazes and starstruck figures who stopped to look at the two of you was too many to count — hell, you even saw Professor Gakunaji’s eyes widen for the first time! It was all so embarrassing, being the talk on everyone’s mind after keeping a low profile for so long. And here you are, holding hands with the star basketball player, the guy everyone knew assumed you couldn’t stand being within arm’s length with, and now, the boy you want to spend the rest of your college life with, Satoru Gojo.

Who, by the way, is loving every single second of this — of course he is, the fucking cheeky bastard! You don’t think you’ve seen his smile and dimples never leave his face for the entire day. He was stuck to you like glue, walking you to your classes and immediately returning to your side after his lectures ended like a happy puppy. He knew you were a little overwhelmed with it all, but that wasn’t a problem because he’d happily make sure you didn’t think you were the only one going through with this. Plus, you just looked so fucking cute looking all bashful around him now that he expresses his love for you publicly. I mean, the way you were in shock after he kissed you on the cheek after walking you to your second class of the day with Utahime? Oh, he wished he had a picture! Especially with your roommate’s jaw dropped to the floor (which never closed throughout the remainder of class as she just stared at you) after seeing the startling, romantic interaction.

And now, here you two go, walking out from your last class of the day with Professor Yaga — who was caught off guard when you two walked in together with a lovey-dovey (mostly on Gojo’s part) atmosphere but gave you a small smile as you walked to your seats (which were changed because Gojo pleaded you sat next to him from now on) as Haibara and Ijichi exchanged cheeky glances at the observation. 

You two were walking down to the dining hall, where you planned to have dinner with Shoko and Geto and tell the two best friends of Satoru Gojo of your intimate relationship. But gosh, everything was going too fast! “Hey, Satoru—“

“Yeeeess~?” He says in a sing-song tune, too pleased with himself as he swings your hand to and fro with his. 

“Do we really have to do this today? Why not eat with Shoko and Geto tomorrow—“

“Huuuh!!? But I’m taking you out tomorrow!” You want to hide your face when passersby hear your boyfriend’s reaction, immediately swapping gossip when they’re out of your vision. “Besides, they’ll be hella busy studying tomorrow at the library, so today was the best option.” 

You nod aimlessly. Ughhh, this is just too much. I feel like my head is gonna implode. Then, you felt Gojo grip your palm tighter and put your walk to a stop, prompting you to look up at him again. 

“Hey,” he says with his signature smile, his dimples becoming more prominent now that you’re gazing up at him. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? I got you, and you got me, right?” And he brings you in for a tight hug that has you squeaking and your lips quivering from hearing people gasp at the display of affection. “And now that I finally have you to myself — officially! — don’t think for a second that you can ever get rid of me!”

On the one side, you really want this fool to let go of you so everyone can stop staring and you can get this dinner over with! And yet, on the other side, your heart was beating in such a tune that had you melt into his embrace, and the smell of his cologne made you hum to his chest. You can’t seem to fight the smile growing on your face and your hands coming around to hug the white-haired, lovestruck fool back. “You’re too silly, Satoru…”

“Uhh, are we interrupting something?” 

With haste, you and Gojo break the hug to see the owner of that familiar voice. To your surprise, it was Shoko greeting you two with a smile. Next to her was Geto, also harboring a sly smile on his face before you. 

You cough to clear your throat away from Gojo, who sneaks his hand on your shoulder to keep you close. “H–Hi Shoko, Geto! I see you guys beat us to the dining hall.“

“Yeah, we were wondering if you two would make it. But now,” Shoko’s brown eyes venture from the figures of Gojo and you being close together, “I can see that you two wanted a bit of time to yourselves.”

“Uhhh, oh, you know; we just wanted to walk together since we had our last class for today!” You try to move your shoulder away from Gojo, but his grasp gets firmer and firmer.

Geto laughs, “Oh, no need to act so shy on us, Y/n! It’s good to know that you two are back to being close and cool now. Especially now that you two are a couple.”

“Ohhh, c’mon now, we’re not—“ you stopped, your body going rigid, and everything suddenly fell silent. “Wait….You knew?”

Geto hums as confirmation. “Yeah? Gojo told me.”

Your face forms into confusion. Gojo?

“Me?” Silver brows hang up at the statement. “I never said anything.”

Shoko makes a slightly bewildered expression. “What are you talking about? Remember that photo that you sent to Geto on Wednesday, and—“

“Woah, woah, woah.” Gojo’s fingers tense on your shoulder. Oh, he knows he’s in trouble. You can tell as he silently removes his hand while you question his best friends. “What picture?”

“Uhhh, the one he sent when you two were out for Valentine’s?” When we WHAT!? “Hold on, lemme pull it up from our messages…Yeah, this one.”

The moment Geto brings out his phone and gives it to you, Gojo felt his heart dropped to his ass. Not that you could tell, but the aura of fear was enough to be picked up. What showed on the screen not only had your jaw drop to your feet, but the cutesy feelings you had a minute ago with Gojo faded. Instead, it was replaced with the growing irritation that had your fingers tremble.

Geto’s phone screen displays a message and an attachment from Gojo on the night of your date. Judging by the time, it happened when you assumed you two were sleeping. The attachment proves your point, showing your sleeping face peacefully on Gojo’s bare chest. And the man in question is shown groggily awake, holding his phone to take the picture while his lips are planted on your forehead. The message below the photo answers Geto’s question, “Yo, you two made up already?” To which the taller figure says, “Yeah, kissed and made up. :3”

“Gojoooo….”

Before you do or say anything, your shaky hands return the phone to its owner, which Geto takes silently while backing three steps away with Shoko. 

“SATORUUUU!!!”

You yell out his name without a care for the people around you who immediately look at you. You turn to where he’s supposed to be — supposedly by your side. But you’re not surprised to see that he’s gone, turning your heel to find that the snowy-headed figure was backing up with his hands up.

“H–Hey now, Y/n,” He says nervously. He better be nervous because your eyes showcased a wrath he wasn’t ready for. “Calm down for me, okay, princess?”

“You…Are so…FucKING DEAD!!!”

And it was there that you chased him down, running around the halls. Geto and Shoko watch with baffled expressions before they scoff with laughter. The same goes with the other students who witness the commotion, enjoying the familiar banter between you two. 

It’s weird to say that you and Gojo are officially a couple now, at least to the public eye. However, no one seems to be in denial of it or push it aside. If anything, they seem happy for you two, finally coming around to express each other’s love for one another in a better way than insults and shouts.

And your friends can say the same, enjoying the change of ambiance whenever you two are in the same space. No more trying to ignore the rambles and arguments between you two, no more tired eyes rolling around their sockets when you call each other names. Because they know those will happen anyway; nonetheless, it’s now in a better light that the banner of young love is finally open and hanged.

 It’s a love that you and Gojo can finally express, be free, and be happy with.

“COME BACK HERE, SATORU GOJO!!”

“NO, YOU’RE JUST GONNA HIT ME!!”

And you two wouldn’t want it any other way. 

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

[inkskinned]

so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.

this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.

somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.

i used betterhelp.

i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.

the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.

they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.

the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.

i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."

i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.

the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.

i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.

in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.

the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.

betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.

i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.

there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.

in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.

i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.

[maniculum]

Medieval Scorpions Effortpost

So yesterday I reblogged this post featuring an 11th-century depiction of the Apocalypse Locusts from Revelations, noting the following incongruity as another medieval scorpion issue:

The artist, as you can see, has interpreted "tails like scorpions" as meaning "glue cheerful-looking snakes to their butts".

Anyway, it occurred to me that the medieval scorpion thing might not be as widely known as I think it is, and that Tumblr would probably enjoy knowing about it if it isn't known already. So, finding myself unable to focus on the research I'm supposed to be doing, I decided to write about this instead. I'll just go ahead and put a cut here.

As we can see in the image above, at least one artist out there thought a "scorpion" was a type of snake. Which makes it difficult to draw "tails like scorpions", because a snake's tail is not that distinctive or menacing (maybe rattlesnakes, but they don't have those outside the Americas). So they interpreted "tails like scorpions" as "the tail looks like a whole snake complete with head".

Let me tell you. This is not a problem unique to this illustration.

See, people throughout medieval Europe were aware of scorpions. As just alluded to, they are mentioned in the Bible, and if the people producing manuscripts in medieval Europe knew one thing, it was Stuff In Bible. They're also in the Zodiac, which medieval Europe had inherited through classical sources. However, let's take a look at this map:

That's Wikipedia's map of the native range of the Scorpiones order, i.e., all scorpion species. You may notice something -- the range just stops at a certain northern latitude. Pretty much all of northern Europe is scorpion-free. If you lived in the north half of Europe, odds were good you had never seen a scorpion in your life. But if you were literate or educated at all, or you knew they were a thing, because you'd almost certainly run across them being mentioned in texts from farther south. And those texts wouldn't bother to explain what a scorpion was, of course -- everyone knows scorpions, right? When was the last time you stopped to explain What Is Spiders?

So medieval writers and artists in northern Europe were kind of stuck. There was all this scorpion imagery and metaphor in the texts they liked to work from, but they didn't really know what a scorpion was. Writers could kind of work around it (there's a lot of "oh, it's a venomous creature, moving on"), but sometimes they felt the need to break it down better. For this, of course, they'd have to refer to a bestiary -- but due to Bestiary Telephone and the persistent need of bestiary authors to turn animals into allegories, one of the only visual details you got on scorpions was that they... had a beautiful face, which they used to distract people in order to sting them.

And look. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but I would say that a scorpion's face has significant aesthetic appeal only for a fairly small segment of the population. I'm sure you could get an entomologist to rhapsodize about it a bit, but your average person on the street will not be entranced by the face of a scorpion. So this did not help the medieval Europeans in figuring out how to depict scorpions. There was also some semantic confusion -- see, in some languages (such as Old and Middle English), "worm" could be a general term for very small animals of any kind. But it also could mean "serpent".* So there were some, like our artist at the top of the post, who were pretty sure a scorpion was a snake. This was probably helped along by the fact that "venomous" was one of the only things everyone knew about them, and hey, snakes are venomous. Also, Pliny the Elder had floated the idea that there were scorpions in Africa that could fly, and at least one author (13th-century monk Bartholomaeus Anglicus) therefore suggested that they had feathers. I don't see that last one coming up much, I just share it because it's funny to me.

*English eventually resolved this by borrowing the Latin vermin for very small animals, using the specialized spelling wyrm for big impressive mythical-type serpents, and sticking with the more specific snake for normal serpents.

Some authors, like the anonymous author of the Ancrene Wisse, therefore suggested that a scorpion was a snake with a woman's face and a stinging tail. (Everyone seemed to be on the same page with regards to the fact that the sting was in the tail, which is in fact probably the most recognizable aspect of scorpions, so good job there.) However, while authors could avoid this problem, visual artists could not. And if you were illustrating a bestiary or a calendar, including a scorpion was not optional. So they had to take a shot at what this thing looked like.

And so, after this way-too-long explanation, the thing you're probably here for: inaccurate medieval drawings of scorpions. (There are of course accurate medieval drawings of scorpions, from artists who lived in the southern part of Europe and/or visited places where scorpions lived; I'm just not showing you those.) And if you find yourself wondering, "how sure are you that that's meant to be a scorpion?" -- all of these are either from bestiaries or from calendars that include zodiac illustrations.

11th-century England, MS Arundel 60. (Be honest, without the rest of this post, if I had asked you to guess what animal this was supposed to be, would you have ever guessed “scorpion”?)

12th-century Germany, "Psalter of Henry the Lion". (Looks a bit undercooked. Kind of fetal.)

12th-century France, Peter Lombard's Sententiae. (Very colorful, itsy bitsy claws, what is happening with that tail?)

12th-century England, "The Shaftesbury Psalter". (So a scorpion is some sort of wyvern with a face like a duck, correct?)

13th-century France, Thomas de Cantimpré's Liber de natura rerum. (I’d give them credit for the silhouette not being that far off, but there’s a certain bestiary style where all the animals kind of look like that. Also note how few of these have claws.)

13th-century England, "The Bodley Bestiary". (Mischievous flying squirrel impales local man’s hand, local man fails to notice.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (A scorpion is definitely either a mouse or a fish. Either way it has six legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Wait, no, it’s a baby theropod, and it has two legs. (Yes, this is the same manuscript, that’s not an error, this artist did four scorpions and no two are the same.))

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Actually it’s a lizard with tiny ears and it has four legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Now that we’re at the big fancy illustration, I think I’ve got it — it’s like that last one, but two legs, longer ears, and a less goofy face. Also I’ve decided it’s not pink anymore, I think that was the main problem.)

13th-century England, MS Kk.4.25. (A scorpion is a flat crocodile with a bear’s head.)

13th-century England, "The Huth Psalter". (Wyvern but baby! Does not seem to be enjoying biting its own tail.)

13th-century England, MS Royal 1 D X. (This triangular-headed gentlecreature gets the award for “closest guess at correct limb configuration”. If two of those were claws, I might actually believe this artist had seen a scorpion before, or at least a picture of one.)

13th-century England, "The Westminster Psalter". (A scorpion is the offspring of a wyvern and a fawn.)

13th-century England, "The Rutland Psalter". (Too many legs! Pull back! Pull back!)

13th or 14th-century France, Bestiaire d'amour rimé. (This is very similar to the fawn-wyvern, but putting it in an actual Scene makes it even more obvious that you’re just guessing.)

14th-century Netherlands, Jacob van Maerlant's Der Naturen Bloeme. (More top-down six-legged guys that look too furry to be arthropods.)

14th-century Germany, MS Additional 22413. (That is clearly a turtle.)

14th-century France, Matfres Eymengau de Beziers's Breviari d'amor. (Who came up with that head shape and what was their deal?)

15th-century England, "Bestiary of Ann Walsh". (Screw it, a scorpion is a big lizard that glares at you for trying to make me draw things I don’t know about.)

I've spent way too much time on this now. End of post, thank you to anyone who got all the way down here.

[flamingpudding]

Guys it's just merch

Danny watched with a smile hidden behind his mug of hot cocoa his new family. Originally he was only going to mess with them a little, since he wanted to keep his civilian live he gained with them but at the same time wanted to kind of provoke them to tell him about their night time jobs on their own.

Not like he could just flat out tell them he knew about their vigilantes lifes and that would be embarrassing to explain.

It's not every day that Danny's powers fluked on him, but with the stress of the past months, it happened. Right at a moment, he had to be clumsy and trip over his own feet and accidentally phased through a grandfather's clock, finding a hidden passage. Well at least he learned that way that Batman hadn't placed him with some other rich fruitloop that wasn't his godfather but well... with Batman himself and his family out of mask.

Yeah no, he did not want to explain that and hoped they would do that themselves. But apparently, they took Danny's statement of wanting a normal life a bit too serious.

Which brought him back to his current entertainment in the form of messing with his siblings.

"I don't get what the problem is guys. It's just merch." He chuckled slightly at the face Damian was making. While Jason chose to kick Tim under the table.

"Soooo how much merch on Red Robin do you have with this shirt now?" Dick asked instead with a bright smile, Danny still hadn't figured out how to tell what emotion he hid behind them sometimes.

"I think this is my third shirt of him." Danny mused, placing his cup back on the table and tapping his lip in a thinking motion. "Though I was going to pick up a couple of custom-made jackets of Red Hood and a Nightwing plush later today."

He acted like he did not hear the triumph like hiss of 'yes' from Jason as well as the very upset huff of Damian.

He just grinned at the amusement about how they apparently were competing over how much merch he owned of each of them.

When he found a Robin figure and several Robin pins mysteriously placed on his desk the next morning, he broke out laughing. Yet still just to mess with them gushed about his newly gotten merch to his family while sharing a knowing look with Alfred who knew he was just messing with them.

If there was a surprising amount of Batman merch, suddenly mixed into what he already owned the following week without his knowledge. Well, he wasn't going to complain about free stuff.

But he still would get a good laugh out of their reactions on the day he decided to full on dawn every piece of Batman merge instead of theirs.

[blitzyn]

stop moving

re4r leon s. kennedy x m!reader

request: none

synopsis: After finding yourself stuck in a closet with Leon, you end up squirming just a little too much.

a/n -> i have fallen victim to the leon lover rabbit hole. ALSO. I FUCKING FRACTURED MY FINGER??? guys i almost cried when i had to write the word balls. </3 but thank you all for 1k followers! tbh i only started this acc because i liked the font when i wrote something in my drafts lmao. but still! it means a lot to me and im happy to have gotten this far!

wc -> 2.5k

cw -> thigh fucking, hiding in a closet, spit as lube, handjob (r receiving), pet names (baby x2, sweetheart x1), he's kinda possessive tbh, not beta read

This was supposed to be relatively simple: get in, figure out where the president's daughter was, save her, then get out. Sure, you've seen your fair share of weird shit — especially after the outbreak in Raccoon City, but finding out that there was a whole religion dedicated to spreading a plague for the sake of taking over the world definitely takes the cake. For now, at least.

But finding yourself cramped in a closet with Leon, surrounded by a horde of hostile cultists, also wasn't something you expected to happen throughout the entire mission.

"Stop moving so much," Leon quietly muttered from behind you just as you shifted.

"I'm not," you huffed, a bit annoyed that you had to hide in this stuffy closet, even if you knew that you'd probably be dead by now if it weren't for your partner's quick thinking. Against his words, you adjusted yourself again, trying to find a decently comfortable position. Suddenly, you felt his hands on your hips and the warmth of his chest pressed to your back as he pulled you flush against him.

"I said, stop moving," he repeated, whispering in your ear. You held back a shudder at the feeling of his breath ghosting over the shell of it, stilling completely in surprise. Just then, thunderous footsteps could be heard outside the closet; slowly, listening for any sound that might reveal where the two of you hid.

You tensed and instinctively backed up to further yourself from the perpetrator, even if there wasn't much room to move to begin with. You could faintly hear Leon grunt from behind you, but you were in no position to apologize at the moment. Your eyes were glued to a crack in the old, wooden door, watching as the light shifted when the person passed by.

You waited with bated breath, hoping that it wouldn't come near. But, like some cliche horror movie, you could see the light at the bottom of the door disappear, meaning it was far too close for comfort. With every second the person stood there, the tighter Leon's hold on your hips became. The two of you went so silent your ears rang, and you were briefly afraid that it'd hear the sound of your racing heartbeat.

But after what felt like an eternity, its heavy footsteps started up again and away from the closet. You heaved a sigh of relief when the front door slammed shut, rendering the building empty once more.

"Fucking hell, sorry," you mumbled, trying to shuffle forward and give Leon his space when you realized that he hadn't let go of you yet. "You okay?"

Using the dim light that filtered through the cracks in the door, you lifted your arms a bit and curiously peered at his hands. But that's when you noticed the black lines covering his arms. Upon closer inspection, you quickly realized that they were his veins.

"Christ, Leon, what—"

"Be quiet. Just—just for a second."

You found it hard to tear your eyes away from his arms, waiting in silence. You focused on the sound of his labored breaths, biting your tongue to keep yourself from questioning him even further. Your mind couldn't help the invasion of 'What happened?' and 'What is that?' that threatened to spill from your lips. How did you not notice this earlier?!

You were pulled from your thoughts when you felt him rest his forehead on your shoulder, muttering and grunting under his breath. And that's when you felt it — the reason why he was so reluctant to move just yet: he was hard.

"Oh." You couldn't help it, even if he had already told you to shut your mouth twice already. The silence from then on was painfully awkward as the two of you tried to figure out what to say. With a deep breath, you miraculously found the courage to speak up.

"Do you... Can I help you?" You offered, remaining still to keep yourself from accidentally pressing yourself up against him again. It was silent while you waited for his reply, embarrassment wriggling its way through your chest the longer the two of you kept quiet.

"I mean, you don't have to accept, you can just ignore me—" you began to ramble on, mortified that you even asked the question. "I just thought, cause, like, it'll be hard for you to—shit, I didn't mean it like that—"

"[Name]," Leon interrupted you, finding your instant silence charming in its own way. You could hear him take a deep breath in just as his hands slid further up to firmly caress your waist and abdomen. Electricity shot down your spine and pooled in your gut when he tugged you closer to him, grinding himself against your ass. "You can."

He reached for your hand and brought it behind you, placing it directly onto his cock. You gave it a tentative squeeze, savoring the quiet grunt that came from him, feeling your confidence grow by the second. You heard the gentle jingling of his belt as he undid it just enough for you to dip your hand underneath the waistband of his pants and boxers.

"Not wasting a second, huh?" Amusement and lust were laced in his voice as he spoke, a quiet moan spilling from his lips soon after.

He was hot and thick in your hand, throbbing rhythmically. You swiped a finger over the tip that beaded precum, savoring the shudder that came from his body. His hips trusted up into your fist, seeking more, and you were more than happy to oblige.

With a steady pace, you moved your hand up and down, tracing the prominent veins. You felt your own cock twitch at the sound of Leon's breathy groans and sighs, but you ignored it in favor of getting him off.

"Fuuckk," he drawled out, leaning forward to press his lips on the side of your neck. "You're good at this. Makes me think you've done this typa thing before."

"No," you responded, gently rubbing the spot on the underside of the tip. "You're the only one."

"I get the special treatment?" He muttered teasingly, his breath hot against your skin. "Must be my lucky day."

He could feel his body buzzing with adrenaline as he peppered open-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck, untucking your shirt to slide a hand up your torso to pinch and toy with a nipple. His free hand traveled lower, slipping his cold fingertips underneath the waistband of your pants, but refused to go further than that.

You could feel his lips curl in a subtle smirk, but even as you realized he was teasing you, testing your patience, you had no intention to retaliate. Christ. The hold this man had on you. It was downright pathetic.

"God," he started, pressing his palm flat on your chest to bring you closer to him—eager for more of your touch. He let his teeth gently scrape against your skin, threatening to bite—to mark you, but he forced himself not to. He couldn't. Not right now. "I want to fuck you so bad."

His words were breathless, borderline desperate, as they left his lips. He couldn't help but thrust his hips up into your fist, pushing and pushing until your hand was flush against your ass, keeping you from jerking him off as he rutted against your hand.

"We can't, Leon," you muttered, disappointment lacing your voice. As much as you'd love to have him inside you, fucking you deep, you knew you couldn't. Not when the Ganados were still outside, at least. "Just let me finish you off."

Leon let out a low growl, knowing that you were right. There were a lot of things the two of you couldn't do inside the confined space of the closet, forcing him to conjure up ideas of what he wanted to do when all of this was over.

But for now, he settled on the second best option: your thighs.

"I know," he murmured, breathing in deeply as he pulled your hand away from his throbbing cock. "Then let me fuck your thighs. I'll be quick, I promise."

You mulled over his words, unsure if it would be a good idea.

"Please, baby," he pleaded, his voice heavy with lust. "Just this once. Then, when we find Ashley and get the hell outta this place, I'll make sure to fuck you properly. Nice 'n hard 'n deep. Wouldn't you like that?"

Fuck it.

"Mhm, yeah, go ahead." You relented, knees weakening at the thought of having his thick cock inside you, stretching and filling you up perfectly.

"Atta boy," he buried his thumbs underneath your pants and boxers, pulling them down to let them drop to your ankles. "Knew you'd come around."

He groaned at the sight of your bare thighs and drooling cock, running his hands along the curve of your ass to lean back and spread it, focusing his gaze on your asshole. "Fuck," he hissed. "Can't wait to feel your tight little hole around me later. Gonna fill you up with my cum, make you mine."

Arousal sank in your stomach like a rock as your hole clenched around nothing. Whatever's coursing through his veins made him more impulsive, more desperate, but with the fog that clouded your thoughts, you hardly found it in you to mind.

He spat on his cock and moved a hand away from your body to briefly jerk himself off and smear the saliva around.

"Open up, baby," he instructed as soon as he was done, raising his hand to caress your hip. "Spread your legs a little."

Like a trained puppy, you obeyed, widening your thighs just enough to let him guide his hard cock in between them. Your breath hitched at the sight of the head peeking out, squeezing your legs around him just a bit tighter.

"Jesus fuck, [Name]," he groaned, leaning forward to press his chest against your back. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close to him. Through the hazy mess that was in your mind, you found comfort in the warmth and firmness of them as you placed your hands on his forearms for some sort of stability. "That's it. Squeeze me just like that."

You could feel every twitch and throb, and you were sure he could feel yours, too. It felt like your senses were on overdrive as you listened to your labored breaths, his pleased sighs and grunts, and the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your thighs. He set a leisurely pace, rocking his hips back and forth.

"Shit..." He hissed, speeding up his thrusts as his dick rubbed against your balls, smearing his makeshift lube across your skin.

His hips met yours with quiet slaps, making sure to keep the noise level at a minimum despite the overwhelming urge to just bury himself inside you right then and there. He mouthed at the nape of your neck, tasting the salt of your skin, gently pressing his teeth down hard enough to send sparks down your spine.

His fingertips pressed into your sides so firmly it hurt, but it only served to mix in with the desire that burned brightly in your belly. He fucked your thighs with a sense of urgency, as if trying to satiate a hunger deep within his subconscious—not that you minded.

He grunted and groaned with every thrust, tightening his arms around your waist to tug you back to him whenever your hips jolted forward. It was intoxicating; the way he so effortlessly turned your body into a sensitive mess left you wanting more.

But as soon as a strong hand wrapped around your aching cock, you nearly came on the spot. One of your hands left Leon's forearm to slap it over your mouth as you tried to keep yourself from moaning too loud.

He breathily chuckled beside your ear. "Is this what you wanted?" He rhetorically questioned, swiping a finger over the leaking head so perfectly it left your skin tingling. "Tell me, sweetheart."

"Ohh, fuck," you hissed. It was embarrassing how you so eagerly responded to his touch. "Yeah, th-that's it...!"

Your eyes fluttered shut, focusing on the feeling of his slick cock moving in and out from between your thighs. Your lips parted from behind your hand to let out quiet pants and moans, digging your nails into his forearm the closer you got to your orgasm.

"Oh god, Leon—!" You moaned, pressing yourself further against his back. You could feel your legs faltering, but he didn't seem to mind having you rely on him to stand up.

"I know, baby, I know," he muttered, his voice tight and strained as his thrusts gradually grew sloppy and weak. "Me too."

His cock pulsed and twitched, and he can't help himself from clamping his teeth over the side of your neck this time. It wasn't hard enough to draw blood, but it left a noticeable bite mark that dully ached.

"Come on, baby, cum for me," he instructed, and you had no choice but to comply.

With a muffled moan, you arched your back and finally came as ropes of your semen coated the dusty wooden floor and Leon's fingers. He stroked you until he was sure that you were spent before letting go to chase after his own release.

"Shit," he cursed, breathing heavily. "I'm gonna cum so... so fucking hard...!"

With a strained groan, his hips jerked erratically as he came, holding you tight enough to leave bruises. You gently rub your thighs together, helping him ride out his high. It wasn't until a few moments later did he finally stop, breathing hard against your neck as he calmed down. But that's also when the clarity kicked in.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered, moving his head from you. "I'm sorry, I don't know what happened—I just—" he apologized, sighing in defeat a moment later.

"It's fine," you replied, patting his arm. You had to suppress a shudder when he pulled away from your thighs. The cum that ended up on the insides of them quickly cooled, leaving an uncomfortable sensation on your skin. You were just gonna have to suck it up.

"Let's just get outta here, already." You shuffled forward a bit to tug your pants back up your legs while Leon composed himself.

"Yeah," he said, pressing an arm against the dusty, wooden door. Through the dim light, you could see that his veins were no longer visible again, but that thought was going to have to hold off until later. "You ready?"

"Yup." You nodded after briefly making sure you still had everything in place.

Without further thought about what happened just a few seconds ago, Leon pushed the door open and quickly left the closet as you trailed close behind. Now, it was back to work.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Life Lessons || CL16

Summary: After an embarrassing secret is shared Charles accepts some help to learn a few things about female pleasure.

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fem rec oral, sex ed

WC: 2.9k

Charles - The Lazy Lover - Leclerc. That was what the wag gossip pages all shared in their stories and Charles’ cheeks grew red with embarrassment as he read the latest caption. The supposed ‘inside source’ had recounted the disappointment his past girlfriends had found in Charles’ bedroom activities. They cited him as ‘vanilla’ and ‘a missionary man’, but none of those hurt more than the sentence that described his oral capabilities as ‘nonexistent’.

He didn’t think he was bad in bed, and he wouldn’t have called himself selfish, but he couldn’t help asking some of his exes for the truth. Each of them denied sharing the information to the gossip pages, but they all replied with the same consensus.

Charles chased his own pleasure and they didn’t feel comfortable telling him what they needed to reach their own high too. He felt guilty, wondering how many of the relationships would have ended differently or not ended at all if he had paid more attention - to their sex life as well as the rest. He certainly hadn’t been the most attentive in any aspect of his last relationship with Alexandra.

“Don’t laugh,” Pierre started the conversation seriously, something that immediately caused concern for Charles. “I know someone who knows someone that can help you. She’s a private tutor, of sorts.”

“Do you know how fucked I would be if news broke I went to a hooker?”

“She’s not a hooker,” Pierre assured him as he wrote an address down on a napkin and slid it across the table. “It's already taken care of, 8pm tomorrow.”

Charles looked at the address and sighed. “This is in Paris.”

“Of course, City of Love, my friend.” Pierre finished his coffee and rose from the table, pushing a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Charles mumbled, still uncertain about the whole idea of having a stranger teach him how to be a better lover. “I guess.”

Later that afternoon, Charles received an email with a rather detailed questionnaire about his experiences in the bedroom as well as a small dining and drinks menu to select from. He figured he couldn’t be any more embarrassed than he already was and took his time to honestly answer the questions.

—

Charles debated turning around at least three times as he climbed the stairs in a modern apartment building. He had caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower from the stairwell window and paused as the lights danced along the metal, wondering if he was in the right place. He was still in half a mind that Pierre had sent him to a brothel, but this didn’t fit the stereotype he had in his head of a Parisian whorehouse. He definitely imagined more Moulin Rouge lighting and seedy alleys.

He reached the 3rd floor and found only one door on the landing, his finger barely able to aim for the doorbell with its shaking. He didn’t know what to expect when the handle started to turn, but it certainly wasn’t a bright welcoming smile and the delicious smell of fresh baking.

“Hi, you must be Charles,” you greeted your newest client. “Come in, please.”

You could tell he was nervous as he hesitantly stepped inside and his eyes scanned your home, taking in the artwork on the walls and the candlelit table with two place settings. You tried to ease his mind with a quick introduction about who you were while you poured him a glass of wine.

“Help yourself,” you said as you took a seat and waved a hand to the fresh bread and cheeses he had selected from the menu. He took a breath and sat down opposite you, the candlelight catching the sharp jawline and angular features of his handsome face. “So, Charles, what is your goal? What do you want to get out of this?”

“I, uh, to be able to please a woman?”

“You don’t sound sure,” you teased as you watched him spread an olive tapenade over the fresh toasted bread.

“No, no, I am,” he said a little more forcefully before sighing. “I didn’t realise I was…bad…in bed, until recently.”

“Well, rest assured, we will change that. But first, tell me a bit more about yourself, there’s only so much I can learn from the questionnaire.”

—

Charles began to relax the more he shared. He knew he was protected by the NDA you had sent with the rest of the paperwork and the anonymity that came with baring his ugly truths to a stranger helped to ease the discomfort of what he was doing. He still wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing but your encouraging smile kept his words flowing, like he was finally doing something right.

He hadn’t realised how quickly time had passed until the grandfather clock in the entrance chimed the hour and he saw he had eaten his fill of the meal he chose.

His overnight bag still waited on the hall table, the list of what to bring had been ticked off and double checked. His calendar had been cleared for the weekend and his phone turned off. Everything he needed to remember could be jotted down in the small journal that sat beside his used cutlery.

“So, um, what happens next?” he asked as his eyes darted to the bedroom door.

“Whatever you feel comfortable with, Charles. Come,” you rose from the table and grabbed his bag, taking it to your bedroom as he trailed behind. His feet rushed before slowing down as he caught his own eagerness and frowned to himself. It was common. There was a blurred line between of uncertainty on whether they were here to get laid or here to learn.

You placed his bag beside the large desk that covered one wall of your room and pointed to the computer chair where he took a seat. “Every woman is different and there isn’t a universal button to make us come. But, by understanding the physiological functions and anatomy, I will teach you the tools to find the right spots to make her fall apart.”

“A-anatomy?” he stammered.

You took a step back and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor and bare your nakedness. His eyes widened and he swallowed deeply as he drank in your body. A soft breath fell from his parted lips when you climbed onto the desk and spread your legs either side of him. “I could show you a textbook, but I find this much more effective.”

His throat bobbed as he tried to keep eye contact and the act brought a little laugh from your chest, forcing him to look at your breasts bouncing with it. “You can look, in fact that is exactly what this first lesson is about. Look, Charles.”

His eyes closed but when they opened he was staring at your core, his chest inflating with his deep breath. “Do I just start?” he asked hesitantly, wetting his lips with his tongue.

“Just look for now,” you said with a smile as you reached down your body. “Everyone has erogenous zones, places that feel good when stimulated, and these can be found all over your body, men and women. Thumbs, wrists, behind the knees, inner thighs, neck. Simply kissing and sucking these spots can feel just as good as foreplay.”

“Really?” he eyes widened in surprise and his eyes scanned all the places you had mentioned.

“Really, and I want you to find mine.” You bared your throat and relaxed back on your elbows. “You’ll watch for the physical reactions to confirm it. Deep breathing, moans, eyes closing, jaw slack, forehead pinched - they are some of the outward signs of pleasure.”

“Are you okay with this?” he asked as he found your bent knee the closest point to his lips and his tentative touch warmed your skin.

“I am, and I am pleased that you asked for consent.”

He smiled proudly at the praise before he lifted your leg and kissed the back of your knee, his eyes watching your face as he dragged his tongue along the tendon and crease. Your head fell back and he grinned. “There.”

“One,” you confirmed with a nod before he moved up to your thigh, trying the same thing with a kiss and a lap of his tongue. A giggle bubbled up and you squirmed away. “That’s just ticklish.”

“So not that one?” he double checked, and you shook your head. “Okay…”

The man was thorough and he made sure to find which ones were good for you and which ones weren’t. He paid attention to the signs and more than once he paused to jot down a note in the journal you had provided.

“You’re a good student,” you praised.

“I have a good teacher.”

You smiled at the compliment. “Would you like to explore lesson two tonight or rest? We have all weekend.”

His eyes gave away his answer before his lips did and you climbed off the desk. “Let’s start with the basics then. The first thing you want to do is make yourself comfortable. Craning your neck from where you lie between her legs isn���t comfortable and won’t encourage you to stay there if things take a little longer,” you explained as you moved into the bed and tossed him a pillow. “So, pop one of these under the small of her back.”

He looked at the pillow and shuffled forward. “Now?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, lifting your hips up so he could lay it in place. “Two things happen here, one, it lifts her hips higher for better access which your neck will be thankful for, and two, it tilts her pelvis down and makes it much easier to work her g spot.”

“I thought that was a myth.”

“Why don’t you find out?” you dared. “Did you clip your nails before you came?”

He looked at the short nails and wiggled his fingers with a nod. He had followed every instruction in the email.

“Good, the last thing you want is to accidentally cut a partner with a sharp nail. Now the technique most people find effective is palm up, one or two fingers, gently work your way inside - it’s all about timing, take it slow and build to begin. Once your fingers are inside, curl your fingers up and you’ll feel the tissue is softer, almost spongy. Massaging pressure over that stimulated the g-spot, and if you are good at multitasking you can then add pressure from the outside too. Just place a hand low on her abdomen, slightly above the pelvic bone - don’t press too hard though as it will push on her bladder. First though, you’d probably want to start with warming her up with some cunilingus, eating pussy.”

Charles hopped off the bed and grabbed the journal, quickly jotting down the instructions with quiet eagerness.

“You can practice if you feel comfortable,” you invited when he put the pen and page down.

“Uh, yeah, please,” he stammered as he knelt on the bed and shuffled closer.

You reached into the bedside drawer and grabbed a bottle of lube. “I don’t need this,” you said and he smirked as he saw the other outward sign you had explained - arousal - it already lubricated your slit with the thought of what Charles was going to do to you. “But you should always keep a bottle at home. All women are different, some are drier than others no matter how aroused they get. Or, it’s handy for other areas of play like anal, or even a sensual massage.”

You put the bottle back and settled among the pillows. “Use me, explore, feel the different textures and I’ll guide you if you need it. Remember to look and listen to the signs of pleasure.”

Charles nodded and settled between your legs, getting up close and personal with your pussy. His indecision held him frozen as he wondered where to begin so you offered some guidance. “Finding the clit is a good starting point and then exploring around it to find the sensitive spots. Lick, suck, kiss, try it all.”

Encouraged, he laid a tentative kiss on your slit, his eyes rolled up to watch for your reactions. Seeing nothing, he took aim and tried again, his lip brushing over your clit and a soft sigh reached his ears. More confident, his tongue flicked out and caught your clit making you jolt.

“Was that good or bad?” he asked with a frown.

“Both, that spot is very sensitive - think of the slit at the tip of your cock. When it’s primed and ready that feels amazing but straight off the bat it is a little shocking to the system. You’re in the right area though, so keep exploring.”

This time he circled his tongue around and your moan was louder. You could practically feel his smile on your skin.

“That feels good,” you hummed as warmth spread through your body and he reached up on his own initiative, massaging your breasts. “Oh, you’re a natural now.”

Inspired, he explored further, his tongue lashing along your slit, dipping into your cunt. Your back arched off the bed with a gasp so he delved deeper, fucking you with his tongue as a familiar tightening grew in your core.

“Now would be the perfect time to try to find the g-spot,” you murmured as you fought the urge to succumb to the pleasure, but the lesson wasn’t over.

His rhythm faltered with a fresh wave of nervousness and he pulled back with shiny swollen lips to drag his fingertips through the mess he had made. The slick digits started gently, dipping inside your cunt a little deeper each time until it met the resistance of his palm.

“Feel around for the different textures and then curl your fingers a little.”

He did as instructed and his lips parted in surprise as he felt the spot. “Oh, wow, I’ve never noticed that…”

Your laugh made your pussy clench and he chuckled as your walls tightened around his fingers. “I like that feeling,” he commented with a flirty smirk.

“I thought you would,” you said with a wink. “I also do lessons on male stimulation if you’re ever interested.”

“Like…gay?” he asked quietly, a frown starting to form on his brows yet it wasn’t a look of distaste.

You were intimately aware that he still had two fingers curled in your cunt but it was good that he felt comfortable enough to hold a conversation at the same time. “It’s about learning the male anatomy, like what we did here. Whether that knowledge is used for self pleasure or with a partner, male or female, that is up to them.”

He contemplated the idea for a moment before he remembered what he was doing and began to work his wrist, curling his fingers in sync so they dragged over that delicious spot. He watched your sordid reaction with fascination before he grew bolder, his tongue finding your puffy clit.

“Oh fuck, yes,” you moaned loudly as your pussy tightened in anticipation. He had read your body perfectly and flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit but this time you were primed and ready. Your orgasm began with a tingle through your hair, leading to a fine tremor that danced down your spine, it raced down your legs and curled your toes. “Oh, Charles!”

He moaned against your clit as his wrist snapped forwards and back, the wet sounds of your body filling the room as his fingers fucked you through the explosion. Your cunt clenched and spasmed around the digits and stars spotted your vision. Your head fell back into the pillows with a cry and liquid gushed over his fingers with the release.

Disoriented and overstimulated, you reached between your legs and placed your hand over his. “Please, too much,” you whispered with a hoarse voice and rough aftershocks snapping at your thighs. “That was so fucking good, Charles. I, I just need a minute.”

You threw an arm over your head, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you waited for your heart rate to calm again. A small laugh bounced from your chest as you came down from the high and you finally had the strength to prop yourself back up on your elbows.

“That was perfect, Charles, you are a very quick learner.”

He was busy staring at his hand, your release coating his palm and running down his wrist. “So that’s what an orgasm feels like?” His brows pinched as he realised he had never felt that before.

“It’s what this one felt like. They can be different based on what areas are stimulated, the intensity, intimacy, lots of factors.” You could see he was still disappointed in himself for his previous ignorance and you sat up slowly, crossing your legs as you faced him. “Just because a woman doesn’t orgasm it doesn’t mean she didn’t enjoy the experience. Does a blow job feel good before you cum?”

He shrugged, still a little unconvinced. “Yeah.”

“See, forgive yourself and move on, now you know what to do for next time.” You carefully climbed off the bed on unsteady legs and offered your hand. “Last lesson of the night, aftercare.”

He stood up and froze, looking down at his pants. “Sorry, I kind of, uh, um…”

“Why are you sorry?” you laughed, drawing his attention away from the damp patch on his trousers. “You are meant to enjoy pleasuring your partner. Never apologise for that, Charles.”