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#new level of grossness achieved
floating-in-waves · 1 year
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New level of bug eye glasses. It's so hot I feel like my eyeballs are sweating. I thought I escaped the heat of Fl, it's worse here. Thank gods Staind and Evanescence are at dark, otherwise my ass would stay planted in this chair.
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love the subplot in my possessed!jaime snippets thats about the disjointedness they feel at experiencing the ways in which the other one is fucked up that are vastly different from their own brand, but neither of them pinging a bunch of red flag stuff in their collective experiences as weird or wrong bc of the fact that neither of them has a frame of reference for it. also brandon being like ‘damn wait other people dont experience bloodlust? fr? i thought that was, like, a joke bc of how its ‘unseemly’ so youre just supposed to not let it get out of hand’ 
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9w1ft · 4 months
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i wanna be LSK but… //
I’m so sorry anon, but I personally find it really funny when people hear the songs where taylor is working through her feelings of being betrayed by Scott B and attribute them to karlie instead.
It’s like finding a man holding a gun standing over a dead body and saying, hang on a minute… what if the real murderer is the victim’s gf… because two of her friends liked a gossipy tweet written by a known shit-stirrer!
that is to say, we know for a fact that taylor felt deeply betrayed by scott b, seeing as he’s verifiably the actual person who sold her masters to scooter, after treating taylor like family since she was very young. it’s pretty self-evident he deserves the level of vitriol in the smallest man who ever lived (besides the other descriptive details that link him to tsmwel, mtr etc).
as for taylor and karlie suddenly never being seen together again (seemingly drifting apart a whole year before the heist even happened, remember?), well she hasn’t spoken on that, so naturally we read between the lines in the songs to find out. some people have taken the masters heist songs to be about karlie, and ran with that. but others see karlie and taylor’s retreat into privacy reflected in songs under the ‘love blackout’ theme (especially around here, you’re on a longtime kaylor blog 🙈)
love blackout = the hints taylor has put out again and again that she intentionally distanced her public image from karlie’s because it was too dangerous to carry on as openly as they had at first. 2016 election sadness themes, secret love themes, all consistent over the years. all while writing new love songs that use callbacks to the rep muse, to yail even 🥺. as if taylor’s been using all the confusion and her masterful quill of misdirection to achieve her priority of protecting karlie. not protecting karlie’s public image and clout with swifties, which she doesn’t need to maintain her success because she was always successful in her own right! no, it’s all for Karlie The Person in their secret bubble of reality. all this showmanship, you know. the great war, hello!!!! too many songs to name where the kaylor chandelier is safely out of sight, but you can still see flickers through the boarded up windows ❣️
so forgive me for having a chuckle. to any anons who sincerely🛸want to believe, I’m just throwing it out there that there are plenty of us that never found the karlie-betrayer theory convincing at all. if you take a closer look at everything, the timeline of events and all the songs since, does it really make sense? (especially when there are so many shitty men in the mix who are more obviously to blame lol)
~ if you post, thank you for facilitating this rant 9wing, I’ll get off my soapbox now xxx
yup yup
i think a lot of people are predisposed to blaming karlie and so everything becomes a sort of confirmation bias.. which partially, i would argue, was by design.. so in a sense i do not fault gaylors or others for falling into this hole. but i do sometimes feel like faulting them a tiny bit for those who never climb out of it. there’s plenty of information and clues needed to figure it out and climb out of it.
one thing i don’t like about the whole “let’s not talk about muses” discourse is while the spirit of it is supposed to be “let’s study why these songs sound gay instead of commenting taylor lyrics on these people’s instagram pages,” in practice the phrasing almost is like giving yourself permission to pass judgement on the people in taylor’s story and then never reevaluate them. people often say ~lets not talk muses that’s invasive and gross~ and conveniently refuse to adjust their perception of karlie (for example) based on what taylor is putting out there, while making convenient exceptions for any interpretation they find that works to reinforce their already negative perception of her. and then after bitching about her they’ll cover their timeline in lisa frank dolphins because apparently that’s what paradise is. i dunno. it all feels dystopian to me atp 😆
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funishment-time · 9 months
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one of my favorite Irumatsu headcanons
is that Miu is physically a little gross.
not Toko-level, but she definitely Forgets To Shower or Brush Her Hair Out or Eat Real Food, etcetera. she hyperfixates and genius can't wait, you know?
so Kaede, fellow hyperfixator, gives her girlfriend something that works for her: a calendar of good habits. you treat yourself Nicely and eat a good Breakfast and you can put a sticker in the right column for your achievement. it's nice to buy stickers for yourself and it's nice to see them all fill up, right?
Miu pretends she hates this, but in reality lives for those stickers. she shows them off to Keebo with all the vigor she uses when she's come up with a new invention, something real good. "look, i remembered to eat 3 real-ass meals all this week and Kaede let me have the fuckin' holographic Nico Nico Happy sticker! bet Idabashi never gave you shit like this, son!!"
(indeed, Idabashi has not. Keebo notes this as something humans seem to enjoy, and for the rest of his life gives huge Sticker Bundles to his friends whenever he feels particularly proud of them.)
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rarespawnwrites · 3 months
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WIP Wednesday
Early Access Afterlife (dpxdc)
Okay. What had been said about his situation so far? The most common term used for what was happening to him was “transmigration”. Which just meant… moved? Somewhere else?
The somewhere else could mean his new (used?) body. Or it could mean this unfamiliar city. But the goat and the girl had made it sound like he was going to be living in a story.
Huh. It kind of sounded like Ghost Writer was running this whole thing.
Okay, so he was moved to a story. He was supposed to start in an action scene. He’d woken up in a coffin.
Danny mentally shuddered, the memory of seeping mud and things that wriggled overwhelming. His body, unconcerned, rescued an uneaten, still wrapped-in-foil hot dog someone had just dumped in a trash can.
Gross. Well, at least it was covered. It was even still warm.
What else? He had a quest. This whole thing was trying to be some kind of video game. Ghost Writer collab with Technus? Anyway, what was the quest…
The screen obligingly displayed his current quests for him. Well, quest. He only had the one right now.
Active Quests Tutorial Quest (Main): What Resurrects You Makes You Stronger Achieve the “Peak Human” ranking in 10 skills by the end of the tutorial period. Reward: Unknown Failure: Nonstandard Ending
Ten skills in four years, huh? Danny wasn’t sure what “Peak Human” meant to the system. He had no idea how long getting a skill to that level would take, but it had to be plausibly doable in the allotted time frame, right?
What did it mean by a nonstandard ending, was another question. Would it boot him back out of this body? Was it just another path this life could take that didn’t result in the original story?
Well, he needed to make some assumptions if he was going to get anywhere with this. So… Jazz had once read a book she’d gone on about that claimed it took 10,000 hours of practice to master any skill. For right now, that was as good a guess as any.
One of his benefits allowed him to learn skills five times faster than normal. Say it takes him 2,000 hours to get to the required level for each skill. He needed to practice enough for ten skills. That’s 20,000 hours.
Uh… that sounded like a lot?
How many hours were in a year? In four years?
Danny thought really pointedly at his screen about a calculator app. After a pause, one actually opened on its display. Finally, a convenience. He plugged in a few numbers to find out how many hours were in four years.
He frowned.
Then he checked how many hours would be left when accounting for 8 hours of sleep at night. If his mental state could be reflected in his body, his eye would have twitched at the result.
If Danny did… 16 straight hours of training a day, he’d have enough time for sleep and roughly one day off per week.
What.
Wait, so the two days he was spending zombified… those were the ENTIRETY of the free time he was allotted for the next two weeks?!
There’s no way. Bring on the nonstandard ending. Danny had been a half-ghost and a ghost-ghost, what could this world even scare him with?
【System Message】 A new entry has been generated and added to your codex: Nonstandard Endings.
Did he really want to look?
The answer was no.
He looked.
【Codex】 Entry – Nonstandard Endings All Joker routes Amanda Waller route Black Mask route Cadmus route Court of Owls route Despair route Dollmaker route Gnomon route ...see more
Selecting a route displayed a blank, rectangular area with a title caption. The blank area seemed like it was obscuring an image he hadn't unlocked, but the title caption was visible. Below that was a section labeled “Summary” that was, like the images and unavailable sections of the System Store, locked.
Daniel looked through a few routes, then picked up speed as he scanned through more and more.
Even after the “see more” it seemed the title captions didn’t change in flavor: Brainwashed ending; Zealot ending; Mind-Controlled ending; Specimen ending…
【System Store】 Looking for the perfect ending? Want a little variety in your new life? Give yourself another chance! And another, and another! Buy the Regressor Package to do it all over again. Collect CGs from every route! Buy for 100 credits
Who would want that?! Every single ending implied mindless slavery!
Also, why does the system have pop-up ads? ...It was probably time to check out that options menu.
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pjisskullourful · 4 months
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K̲̅e̲̅e̲̅p̲̅i̲̅n̲̅g̲̅ S̲̅e̲̅c̲̅r̲̅e̲̅t̲̅s̲̅
🎀 Damiano × reader
NSFW 🔥 smutathon, adults doing adult stuff
° Damiano David/female reader insert
° you gotta know I need it, tired of losing by Keeping Secrets ||| things change between you & your longtime friend damiano when he makes a cheeky comment at a party, you cant help reading into it [based dec 2020, lets not talk about the pandemic]
wordcount::. 19,684
° commissioned by lore (@lifeofa-fangirl) 💋 i have thanked you profusely& i will continue to thank you. thanks for sticking with me through this extended process& for believing in me when i didnt believe for myself [commissions are temporarily closed]
° lyrics stolen from madison rose & kandy
° [ITA:] bella: pretty
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Shooting stars crash, crack and collide In the shadows we come alive Rub your skin on my skin to ignite Burn it down baby, let’s play with fire
“This guy!” Rachel exclaimed, instantly louder than what you had been saying to Damiano. “This is exactly the guy that I’ve been waiting to see.”
You had heard similar things said to him during the couple of hours since arriving at Taren’s Christmas party. You wondered if it was tiring for him, having so many people paying him attention and expecting it back. In the two years that you had known him, he had been gradually becoming more in demand, gaining more-and-more momentum with his band. The level of fame he had achieved had changed how people in your group of friends saw him. Not everyone, but enough that you had noticed.
The only thing that it had changed for you was how much time you got to spend with him - success meant a very full schedule. But he was still the same guy to you. He was the guy that you had almost shared a kiss with on four different occasions. He was the friend that loved superhero movies just as much as you, the two of you going to the cinema whenever something new came out. He was the one guaranteed to laugh at your jokes, when others seemed to not hear you.
Your little crush on him was your secret and to remain as such, because you couldn’t compromise the solid friendship that you had. Hours spent together laughing, unprompted text messages of support, all of those things were just as good as being his girlfriend - or so you told yourself.
You knew how to handle your friendship with him (you’d had a lot of time to practise that). A relationship was a swift way to surrender any control. And you needed control, you clung to it, because you saw how badly things went when you didn’t have it.
Before turning to the enthusiastic Rachel, he made a subtle gesture to you. Your shared code for put a pin in it. He wanted to hear the end of your rant about your job.
Rachel hugged each of you in turn, but it was only a one-arm embrace. Her other arm was occupied by a sizable plastic container, the contents concealed by wrapping paper. You exchanged the polite pleasantries.
“You were waiting to see me?” He asked.
“Rum balls.” She said concisely.
“What did she just call you?” You joked, seeing the confusion on his face. That was a feeling you were currently sharing.
She removed the lid from the container and held it out so you could each look inside. There was a collection of the brown and white bite-sized treats. You recognised them as something of a Christmas tradition, but you sensed there was more context eluding you.
But Damiano appeared to have figured out what was going on. “Right, rum balls.”
“Last year when I made them, he complained.” She started to explain to you. “He said I hadn’t used enough rum, so they weren’t rum balls, they were just ‘sweet balls’.”
You theatrically rolled your eyes. “You would say sweet balls, wouldn’t you? You’re always bringing balls up. And in public, too? Where’s your sense of decency?”
He played along, furrowing his brow. “Decen-... who?”
“Yeah, maybe there’s still time to add that to your wishlist for Santa.” You said.
“I called them sweet. I didn’t say they were gross, or anything.” He told her. “I was just expecting more of that rum flavour.”
She held the container closer to the two of you. “That’s why I did them differently this year. There’s definitely enough rum in these.”
Neither you nor he immediately moved to pick up one of the treats. It was a well-shared fact that Rachel wasn’t a good cook. Not due to lack of trying or ambition. But the little hobby she pursued more often than not produced results that didn’t taste as she hoped. She couldn’t get the heat of the oven perfect, or she had to substitute an ingredient with something not mentioned in the recipe. She always found a way to make chicken dry - no matter how she prepared it, or what she paired it with. At group dinners, her dish was usually the only one with leftovers.
But she always tried again. She took the good-natured teasing for what it was, proceeding forward with the goal of one day proving everyone wrong. Victoria played her ‘fussy eater’ card to avoid trying Rachel’s creations. But she could typically get some friends to eat the food out of pity.
“So, you found a new recipe to follow this year?” You asked, your hands kept at your sides as Damiano tentatively plucked one out.
“No, the same recipe. I just did my little alterations, working off of his constructive feedback.” She said, seemingly filled with optimism and pride.
Even though you were feeling uncertain, you knew that you didn’t want to hurt your friend’s feelings. You picked up a coconut-covered sphere as he was slowly raising his to his mouth.
“Mmn.” He was enthusing as soon as the dessert touched his tongue. He smiled as he began to chew. “It’s good.”
She perked up onto her tiptoes. “Better than last year?”
“Yeah, I think-...” His swallow was slow, almost as if it required extra effort. You hesitated from eating yours, watching as his eyes grew wide. “Oh, yep, there’s- there’s the rum. That’s more rum than last year, for sure.”
You were quickly understanding his choice of words, tasting rum, and then even more rum with every bite. You felt the texture of the shredded coconut, but you couldn’t taste its sweet flavour. Likewise the taste of the cocoa had been drowned out. The tang of the alcohol filled your mouth, overpowering to a degree you hadn’t been expecting.
It was like swallowing the contents of a shot glass - and you had never been a fan of shots. The dry flavour seemed to coat your throat. But you forced a smile onto your face, stifling your dislike of this taste as she looked for your reaction. She genuinely wanted to feel like she had done a good job and you couldn’t stand the thought of taking that from her.
“Ooh, yeah. That’s very rum-y. I think he’ll have to try harder to find something to complain about with these.” You said before suddenly spurting through some small coughs. You kept smiling as you reached for your glass of water. “Sorry, the coconut just tickled my throat a little.”
“Ray.” Taren said, getting her attention. “Come on, Keith is waiting to hear how terribly that mechanic ripped you off.”
“Right, let me-”
Before she could begin to turn away, Damiano surprised her (and you) as he grabbed for the container of rum balls. “Leave these here with us, will you? I don’t think I’m finished with just one and I’m lazy so I want them closeby.”
“Yeah, I was definitely planning on having more.” You lied.
She relented, transferring the food to his hands. She appeared pleased as she walked away with Taren, heading to a different area of the expansive house. You greedily gulped down more water, wanting to rinse the taste from your mouth. He quit smiling as Rachel left from your current view.
“What’s your plan, dude?” You asked. “Because I have no intentions of helping you eat those. I already feel like I’m over the legal limit, and that’s from one.”
He wasn’t eating more as he turned to you. “I had to do something to keep her from inflicting these on anybody else. And what if she offered them to someone more blunt than us? That could ruin the whole party for her- that’s not really in the spirit of the happiest season.”
This was one of the qualities that made Damiano a great friend: he wanted everyone to get a win. He was always there when somebody needed a cheerleader, boosting them and encouraging them forward so passionately.
“You’re very sweet.” You said.
“As sweet as balls?” He asked with one of his trademark mischievous grins.
You acted as if you hadn’t heard his joke, or noticed how handsome his smile was. “But you’re not gonna get me to eat those.”
“I think I could.” He said. “Come with me for a second.”
You didn’t resist, even though you had no idea what he was leading you to. It could result in trouble, his plans had ended that way more than once.
He carried the dessert with him, heading inside from the patio. You followed along, taken into the spacious basement. This was set up as something of a game room: featuring an air hockey table, a dart board and a large TV with various gaming consoles hooked up to it. There were some people relaxing in this area, but he didn’t stop to chat with any of them, he was set on his mission.
He walked directly over to the air hockey table, which wasn’t currently in use. He spun around, allowing you to see the smile still fixed on his face. He wasn’t distracted in the slightest, his eyes completely focused on you, which brought up the beginnings of feelings you didn’t want to address.
“Beat me and you don’t have to eat any others.” He said. “But if I win-... well, maybe you don’t wanna think about that.”
“And what if I just don’t agree to play?” You asked.
His smile didn’t slip, he didn’t see this as a true threat to his plan. “Oh, you mean if you forfeit? Well, I suppose I would just leave the rum balls here and hope someone else feels like being a good friend to Rachel…”
He was banking on your competitive side being activated. He had seen on countless occasions how much you loved to win at any kind of game or contest. He knew how difficult you found it to walk away if there was a slight chance that you could win, and he was exploiting this.
And you were letting it happen, wearing a smile to match his. Because who else were you going to hang out with? There were no other friends that you would prefer to spend time with. You knew that the best fun of the night would come from him and you weren’t done soaking up his company.
“Alright. The winner gets the most points out of seven games?” You said, going over to one end of the table.
He set the rum balls down closeby, then took up his position at the other end. “Uh-huh.”
You turned the table on, activating the miniscule air vents that covered the surface. The puck was placed inside of the painted circle, the middle point of the rectangular table’s length. You each collected your circular paddles, which weren’t much bigger than the palm of your hand.
“Ladies first.” He offered and you acted quickly, hoping to catch him off-guard. But this didn’t work out, with him ready to send the puck flying your way before it could get too close to the goal.
You kept going, striking the puck from different angles. You hit it so hard that it flew across the table at an impressive speed. It moved too fast for him, slipping past his paddle and into the little recess that served as your goal.
“Ladies first indeed.” You boasted, wearing a bigger smile now.
You almost forgot about everyone else in the room as you focused so intently on the game. You couldn’t look away for a second. Your mind rushed to come up with tactics, needing to come up with the key to winning.
And you succeeded - earning six goals to his singular point. You did a little happy dance while he accepted his defeat, that spectacular smile leaving his face. He ate another rum ball and with Rachel out of the room, he didn’t fake any part of his reaction. Instantly he grimaced, seeming to labour through each bite. He shut his eyes as he swallowed, all of the joy gone from his expression.
“Bloody Hell, I’m not sure that she left any rum for the rest of the world. It’s all in those little disasters.” He said.
“Why did you say they needed more rum?” You asked.
“Because that was the only thing I could think of to tell her. And I thought she would add an extra teaspoon or something, not an extra ten litres.” He said.
“Well those ten litres are all for you, my friend. Because I’m just getting started on my winning streak.” You said.
He stepped up to the table’s edge, wrapping his fingers around the paddle’s handle again. “We’ll see about that.”
You won the next set of games as well, feeling your cockiness swelling up, even though he had improved, gaining three points this time. His suffering added to your victory and you let yourself get carried away with it, laughing with the malice of a Disney villain. He scrunched his face up even more, adding extra drama to his reaction to this serving of the dessert.
The trash talking started with the next round, each of you enjoying getting invested in this contest. You gleefully teased one another, your words selected to get laughs, not to incite any actual hurt. This became a playful contest, each of you trying to find the most outrageous thing to say. You mangled one another’s names, adding extra syllables so the word loser could be incorporated. There were times when you were too distracted by laughing that he could sneak the puck past you, scoring more than a few points this way.
The teasing only got louder after Ethan had followed through on his offer of getting each of you drinks. This was your third glass of alcoholic eggnog tonight and you were enjoying the buzz you had developed. You didn’t often drink, but when you did you liked the fun-loving side it brought out of you. You got looser, forgetting about those responsibilities that plagued your days.
It didn’t take long for the eggnog to disappear. You used its far superior taste to rinse your mouth after losing and being forced to consume more of the rum balls.
Their intense flavour wasn’t getting any more appealing. So you concentrated harder after every loss. You began trying to fake him out, moving like you were going to hit the puck from the right, only to actually strike from the left. But this only worked a couple of times, the rest he could easily block.
“That’s, like, the third time you’ve done that.” He noted when you came in too strong with your paddle, sending the puck into a momentum that launched it over the raised frame of the table. “You’re getting too aggressive.”
“Boo-hoo. I lose that point every time it happens, so it’s not like I’m doing it on purpose. It just happens.” You said, leaving collecting the puck from the floor up to him.
“I don’t know if losing the point is doing enough to discourage you, maybe we need a harsher penalty.” He said as he returned the puck to its starting point.
You narrowed your eyes as you looked at him. “Like what?”
“You hit it off the table and you lose the point, but you’ve also gotta eat a rum ball.” He said.
“What? That’s a bit of overkill, don’t you think?” You responded.
He smiled as he pushed the cuffs of his long-sleeved shirt further up his forearms. “Don’t knock it off the table and it won’t be your problem.” You rolled your eyes as he grabbed the top of his paddle, returning to his less-relaxed stance. “Alright, we’re at a draw of three points each and it’s my serve.”
You gripped your paddle tightly, not thinking of any funny things to say as you clenched your jaw. He hit the puck in your direction and you tapped it back, not following through with all of your power. He moved to the right, ready to knock it away from his goal. It zipped across the table, quicker than before. You were getting into position, anticipating where it would travel to after ricocheting off the side.
But its speed continued, launching the disc over the frame and onto the ground. Instantly you started to laugh, especially tickled by the way his face fell. He was silent as he grabbed the puck from the ground, then he went to the container of Rachel’s dessert.
“Don’t knock it over the side and it won’t be your problem.” You quoted him, deepening your voice in your effort to imitate him.
He frowned as he ate another rum ball, apparently he was struggling just as much as you were to find anything to like about them. He dusted the excess shredded coconut off of his hands before walking back over to the table.
“Hang on. Aren’t you forgetting something here, dude?” You brought up, successfully getting him to pause. “That’s a point to me, four to three- you lose this round. You have to eat another one.”
He complied without any enthusiasm, but you were grinning the whole time. He popped a rum ball into his mouth, chewing it unhappily. He visibly shuddered as he swallowed it, poking his tongue out to further express his distaste.
He had a couple of mouthfuls of water as he returned to his position opposite you. “Alright, get ready to pay for that.”
“Ooo, I’m so scared.” You mocked. “My serve.”
You proceeded through more rounds, wins shared mostly evenly between the two of you. From time-to-time different people came over to watch, Victoria was very excited over the prospect of him losing. Rachel didn’t appear in the room, allowing you to keep torturing one another with her food.
“I think we should call time.” You said before a new round could begin - even though you weren’t sure how long you had spent playing. Time could behave strangely when you were around Damiano. Hours could pass under the guise of minutes, leaving you feeling like you needed more.
“Aw, do you need a break from getting beaten?” He mocked. This façade was immediately dropped. “Actually, I was so close to suggesting that myself. I don’t think I can physically eat one more.”
You looked into the container, your hands held behind your back as you surveyed what remained inside. “We ate at least half- maybe more. She’s got to be pleased with that. I would say we were way more generous than just having a pity nibble.”
“Yeah, but at what cost to ourselves?” He asked, overly solemn.
You agreed that some fresh air was necessary. You could feel how ruddy your cheeks were as you stepped back onto the patio. You considered whether your current state could be categorised as tipsy. You sat down on one of the padded benches, but he didn’t join you.
“I’m gonna get us some water.” He said and you were quickly nodding along to show your support. “And some kind of something to eat to soak up the rum- a bit of it.”
As he was leaving through the door, he passed by Thomas, the guitarist walking in the opposite direction. He came over to where you were sitting on your own, greeting you with a smile.
“Hey, I feel like I’ve barely seen you tonight. Where have you been hiding?” He asked.
“Oh, I was with Damiano.” You said and the way his eyebrows jumped up couldn’t go unnoticed. “We were playing air hockey.”
“Is that what we’re calling it these-days?” He asked, lightly nudging your side with his elbow.
“What? We really were.” You defended, your voice getting a little louder as discomfort trickled in.
“Are you sure? Are you sure that you didn’t meet under the mistletoe, and that’s why you were missing for hours, and why your face is all flushed?”
You didn’t know how to handle your friend’s scepticism at first. “Is there mistletoe? I haven’t seen it.”
“Nice deflection.” He said, still wearing that sly smile.
“I promise you that we were just playing air hockey.” You told him sincerely. “Ask Ethan, he saw us.” Unfortunately for you, the drummer was nowhere in sight. “Or if you wait for, like, a minute, you can ask Damiano himself when he gets back.”
“It’s okay, I’m not genuinely going to call you a liar.” Thomas said, trying a different approach. “I just wouldn’t be surprised if you guys did sneak off to be alone.”
“Really, why?” You asked.
“Sometimes there’s a vibe between the two of you.” He said.
You furrowed your brow - was your secret crush on Damiano a lot less secret than you were aware of? “A vibe between us? What kind of vibe?”
Thomas shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, a vibe.” Him adding extra emphasis didn’t help you gain any clarity.
“A vibe? Oh good, I was worried you would be vague about it.” You sarcastically quipped.
You didn’t get the chance to get any more information out of him. Instead you were swiftly trying to act inconspicuous as Damiano made his return.
“You’re going to be really happy with me, dude.” He told you, both of his hands were very full. “I found a little stash of dinner rolls for us.”
“Is that to help you get your energy back after all of that air hockey?” Thomas asked, apparently not done with stirring the pot.
“Oh, she was bragging about all of her victories while I was gone, was she?” Damiano asked.
“No.” Thomas said, turning to look at you. “Did you beat him?”
You smirked after being handed a cup of water and a few small bread rolls. “Of course I did.”
“We were pretty even. It’s not like you were wiping the floor with me.” Damiano defended.
“You take my seat, man. I’m gonna go see if I can find that mistletoe.” Thomas said, standing up.
“Mistletoe?” Damiano repeated. “Who do you need that for?”
Thomas patted him on the shoulder. “Maybe I’ll hang it above my ass, just for you.”
Damiano grinned. “Hell yeah, I was hoping I would get lucky at this party.”
Instead of responding with another joke, Thomas just shot a look in your direction. You thought the smile on his face was saying more. 
But he didn’t cause any trouble for you, waving as he departed. Damiano sat down next to you, apparently oblivious as he bit into a bread roll.
“Thanks for getting the food.” You said after having a gulp of water.
“You’re welcome.” He replied casually. “You know you only got so many wins because you kept topping the puck, right?”
You knew what he was referring to, using the flat bottom of a paddle on top of the puck to halt it, gaining control of its momentum. But you didn’t know why he was bringing it up.
“I was not.” You said.
“Dude, you were.” He said.
“If I was doing that- if- why didn’t you call it out when I was supposedly doing it?” You asked. “I never topped, and you can ask all my exes, they will confirm that fact.”
The words had slipped out of your mouth. Your cheeks immediately filled with a hot blush as you mentally scolded yourself for your lack of impulse control. You blamed the alcohol in your system as you covered your mouth with your fingers. You wished you hadn’t said it, and you didn’t know how to play it off.
His eyes lit up. “Oh, is that how it is?”
You began shaking your head. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“What? Why? It’s not like I’m judging you for your position preferences.” He said.
This didn’t help you to stop blushing. Was he thinking about it, or picturing it in any way? You didn’t know what you wanted the answer to be and you were finding it difficult to meet his eye.
“Thanks. It would be pretty awkward if you unfriended me just because I'm a bottom.” You said, finding a way to joke through this.
He laughed. “As if.” You dared to look up at him again. “The reason I'm gonna unfriend you is for you topping the puck.”
“I was not!” You burst out, your indignation making him laugh more. “If you saw it, you should have said something.”
“I'll have to remember it for next time we play.” He said, his laughter stopping. “Oh, I’m an asshole. I totally forgot that you were in the middle of telling me about that friction at work, with what’s-her-name.” He said. “That’s my bad, dude. Did you wanna tell me more about that, her being overbearing as Hell?”
Sumia seemed like a safe topic to move onto - you could get back to how you had been communicating earlier, when you had been at ease, your feelings seemed less unavoidable then.
And your co-worker gave you a lot to vent about.
“I don’t know how much more patience I have for her and her telling me how to manage my team.” You said.
“Why does she think she’s your supervisor?” He asked.
“Beats me. Supervisors make more money, so maybe that’s what she’s angling for.” You said. “It’s like she’s trying to prove that she can do that job, by supposedly helping improve how the lab runs. But there’s no indication that the boss has that kind of promotion to give.”
He had finished eating, crossing one leg over the other towards you. He rested his elbow on the top knee and then held his chin in his hand as he listened to you. “Maybe she’s into manifestation.”
“Maybe she’s a jerk.” You said, grateful when he let this pass without pointing out the immaturity of trying to make this part of your argument. “She’s a shadow, a really terrible shadow. It’s like she’s always waiting for me to slip up. Instead of doing her actual job, she watches for me to do something that she doesn’t agree with slightly, so she can run off and tell everyone I’ve been naughty or something.”
“Well I hope she’s not in touch with Santa.” He said, surprising you out of your train of thought. You cocked your head to the side as you looked at him, too perplexed to speak. “‘Cause naughty girls get punished by Santa, you know.”
The image surged into your mind - too fast and too powerful for you to fend off. Your friend wearing only a Santa hat, calling you naughty. The word punish posed so many possibilities and your mind wanted to explore them, your heart already racing just as your thoughts were.
Your eyes had grown wide and you could feel the revealing blush in your cheeks again. It felt like your mouth was stuck shut as you willed this increasingly-detailed fantasy from your brain.
You didn’t have to be speaking to give him a response he wanted to observe. His eyes remained on your face, watching the changes in your expression - which were beyond your control. A smile was beginning on his mouth as you were scrambling to keep yourself together.
“This isn’t the reaction I was expecting. You’re looking a little shocked.” He said.
“Am I?” You asked and an attempt at clearing your throat brought on some coughing.
“Yeah, why are you acting like this is brand new information?” He asked.
You looked down at your lap, finding the napkin your bread rolls had been resting on was clear, you couldn’t use your food as a distraction. “I’m not trying to act that way.”
“Okay.” He said and when you looked up again, it was to find that he was still wearing his amused smile.
You feared what he might say if you asked what he was smiling about. You wanted to know, but you feared the change it could bring.
You were trying to recall a normal way to act. Maybe you could have found the right thing to say - 
- if not for Rachel serving as an interruption, again.
“You guys, oh my God, you ate so many.” She said as she rushed over to where the two of you were sitting. She carried the container and wore a broad smile. “Someone said you were eating them the whole time you were playing air hockey.”
Now that the focus had shifted, you found that your ability to speak normally had mostly returned. You had to protect Rachel’s feelings, and you had to make sure that eating all of those rum balls hadn’t been for nothing. “Did they say anything else?”
“Like what?” She asked, proving how oblivious she was, which ushered in some of the relief that you needed.
Before she could read too much into your question, he was distracting her with compliments - tapping into that charm he had a seemingly endless supply of. “Of course we ate so many, they’re great. I don’t know about her, but it was hard to stop once I started eating them. Maybe all that extra rum made them addictive.”
You nodded along to what he was saying and it was clear that she was buying it as she went on smiling brightly, standing with her shoulders pushed back. The dishonesty was giving her a boost in confidence - could it be such a bad thing?
“I feel a little bad that we had so many before anyone else could really have a chance to try them.” As he spoke, the movement of Thomas coming back onto the patio caught your eye.
“No, I think there’s still enough left.” She said.
“Hey Ray.” He greeted, standing beside her.
She swung her body to face him, presenting him with the selection of dessert she still had. “Hi, have a rum ball?”
“Oh, nice.” He said, his optimism surprising you. Did he think she had purchased them, instead of making them? “I was hoping someone would bring these.”
Damiano grabbed your wrist, each of you watching carefully as Thomas picked out one of the rum balls. There was no way to guess how he would react - he had always been a wild card like that.
He began to eat and it appeared there were no issues. He didn’t wince or frown at all.
“Mmm.” He hummed as he swallowed it down. “That’s good, it isn’t too sweet.”
“That’s exactly what I was going for.” She said, briefly showing Damiano a favourable smile.
Thomas wasn’t dropping the act. Was his poker face stronger than you had realised? He took another of the small spheres, happily eating this as well, not needing to be pressured into doing it.
At the same time, you and Damiano looked at each other. You could already tell that he was thinking the same as you - your unpleasant efforts hadn’t needed to be undertaken at all. While you had been groaning through every mouthful, Thomas would have enjoyed eating Rachel’s dessert, fulfilling her desire to have her cooking validated.
You started laughing first, feeling foolish but not embarrassed. As Damiano continued to look at you, he joined you in fits of laughter. That sense of obligation towards Rachel was evaporating and you kept laughing as even more relief took its place. His hand went from your wrist, now holding your hand. You were united in finding this unexpected outcome ridiculous.
“What are you two laughing about? What could possibly be this funny?” Rachel asked.
“Oh, you know what they’re like, always up to something, that’s their vibe.” Thomas said.
As you tried to get your laughter under control, you shot a glare in Thomas’ direction. But it seemed that Damiano had missed the statement and its potential subtext, he was too busy giggling to notice.
The other two left after a moment and his continued snickering made you want to start up again.
“Dude.” He said through a gasp for air.
“We literally didn’t need to do that, any of it.” You said, smiling as you shook your head. “I’m gonna have rum in my system for weeks. And the whole time, Tom would have eaten them and spared Rachel from heartbreak.”
He was still laughing. “Her Christmas spirit didn’t need us to save it.”
“We are so dumb.”
You properly noticed that he was still holding your hand and you looked at how your fingers fit perfectly with his. He had held your hand before (squeezing through crowded clubs and not wanting to lose track of each other, amongst other instances). You told yourself that this shouldn’t feel any more significant than the other times it had happened. You rejected your own inclination that this was a ‘couple-y’ thing to do.
But you missed his hand in yours as soon as he took it away. He used his fingers to wipe beneath his eyes as he steadily brought his laughter to an end. “That’s my bad, I should have remembered that he eats absolutely anything.”
“Yeah, I thought you guys were supposed to be brothers.” You said.
He looked you in the eye, he had quit laughing, but he was still smiling. “That’s definitely naughty girl behaviour.”
You stared back at him, denying the insistent imagery your mind was all too ready to produce. “What, what are you talking about?” Once again you were trapped under that gaze that seemed to see too much.
“Lying, only naughty girls lie.” He said.
You knew that the way you were holding yourself together would disintegrate further if he said more words. “Can we drop this?”
He playfully pushed you a little further. “Why, do you not like being called that?”
You kept your lips firmly pressed together. You didn’t know what to say, you couldn’t risk slipping up. It was the opposite of not liking him calling you a naughty girl, but you didn’t know how to make sense of that for yourself. There was no way you could explain it to him.
The teasing smile fixed to his face made you squirm. It differed to the typical way you would make fun of each other. A thought occurred to you - if you kissed him you wouldn’t have to see that smile anymore, you could get a break from its disarming effects.
This situation had shifted and you could feel the control you used to protect yourself under threat. And you weren’t ready to be without it, regardless of how appealing and handsome he was.
You had to fight yourself, and your urges, back, the effort feeling almost physical. But you did it, producing distance between the two of you by getting to your feet.
“I’m gonna go and see if I can find some pudding. I would like to get to the part of this night where I’m eating a dessert I don’t have to pretend to enjoy.” You said. “I’ll see you later, dude.”
“See ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya.” He said, showing no signs of hurt feelings.
You didn’t hesitate to walk back inside, you needed space and time. You knew that you and your friend could get back to normal before too long. But for the moment you needed solitude, time for the ripples he had created to die out.
*** *** ***
 Hey dude. Are you home? I kinda have a favour to ask…
This wasn’t the first time you were hearing from Damiano in the week since the Christmas party. The way you had been communicating could be characterised as normal, the word naughty hadn’t been used once.
But that didn’t mean you had stopped thinking about it. When your brain wasn’t actively engaged with something (work, Pilates), it wandered and a fantasy was unfolding. In your mind’s eye you saw a Santa hat as the concept of punishment produced many ideas. Would it be spanking? Would it be restraints on your body? Would it be more telling you how bad you were?
Your ventures into rough play had been short. Previous partners had treated it as a brief aspect of foreplay, doing as much as it took to turn them on before progressing to the ‘main event’. How much you wanted was usually ignored, but your people-pleasing tendencies kept you from voicing any complaints.
As you imagined going further than you had before, you willed a different face to appear under the Santa hat. You didn’t want it to be your friend. You tried to replace him with Harry Styles, or other celebrities you found sexy. Or a guy that you had gotten a crush on in the four months that you had worked together - what was his name?
But Damiano’s visage always returned to claim ownership of this role. There was a vast catalogue of memories that could be called upon to create a very clear image. You had gone swimming together countless times, you were familiar with what he looked like in nothing but a Speedo. Maybe other people at these group activities didn’t pay as much attention to his body as you did. But you always found something to like.
The fantasy always stirred something deep in your gut. You didn’t hate it, but you didn’t want it in your brain. It could compromise what you had and enjoyed.
You hoped for it to be a phase. It was like getting a song stuck in your head, it couldn’t stay on a loop forever. Sooner or later, your mind would move onto the next.
For now you were doing everything in your power to act normally with him. Surely the actions would impact your mental state, taking you back to a place of feeling normal (and in control).
Tell me what the favour is first. Maybe I’m not sure if I’m home yet.
You considered the words before hitting the send icon. Typically you gave messages a pre-send proofread to make sure there were no embarrassing spelling errors.
This was different: you were checking for anything that could be misconstrued or turned into innuendo. You had to conceal the swirl in your mind, picking up the implications that came with him reaching out to you so late at night. Why was he thinking about you past 11PM? Was it too much of a stretch to think he might be having difficulty falling asleep in a way that was linked to you? All of these theories had to be kept to yourself.
Haha. I’ll see you in about 20. He responded.
You stared at the screen of your mobile phone, feeling like you were on the way to becoming out of your depth. Hold up! You still haven’t told me what the favour is yet.
There was a brief pause (time for you to squirm on your sofa and tap your fingernails on the phone’s case) before you received his next message. I ran out of wrapping paper. None of the stores are open this late. & I’m driving to see my family tomorrow afternoon.
Running out of wrapping paper on Christmas Eve sounded like a stressful situation to be stranded in. It wasn’t a problem for you to worry about - you had packaged up your final purchase earlier in the week. You were the perfect person to rescue him and he was especially grateful when you confirmed that you could help him out.
From the highest platform of his cat tree, Iggy watched you sit up on the couch. You halted the renovation show that you had been watching, now motivated to get to your feet.
With the purpose of his visit so obviously platonic, it would have been odd to try to impress him, too much effort put into your appearance would be a waste. But you didn’t want to look like crap either. You went into the bathroom because brushing your teeth seemed like the best place to start. As you did this, you considered your reflection. The pyjamas you were wearing weren’t covered in any kind of embarrassing print and the robe you wore didn’t have gross stains on it.
You looked casual and comfortable. This wouldn’t be the first time he had seen you in your pyjamas. They were hardly glamorous or sexy, but they were you: the friend that he knew he could rely on.
After brushing your hair, you gathered the supplies he would need to get the gifts ready for his family. You placed all of this on the coffee table.
Instead of sitting on the sofa to await his arrival, you headed in the direction of your bedroom. You had just decided that putting a bra on was a good idea.
Suddenly Iggy was done with his lazing about. Your cat went sprinting past you, needing to get to the bedroom before you, for some unknown reason.
He had just disappeared out of your sight when you heard a knocking on the door. You would have to face Damiano without a bra, as your cat maintained his anti-social way of life.
You opened the door and couldn’t help laughing at what you found waiting for you. Damiano was dressed up - wearing an elf costume, complete with a hat and a green shirt that had a bright red collar. In one hand he carried a large fabric sack, it seemed a bit extra to transport his family’s gifts like this. But maybe he was this level of dedicated to the joke.
He smiled, seeming pleased with your reaction. “Are you going to let me in, or just stand there laughing at me?”
You moved to the side, still laughing as he came inside. “I’m sorry, but seriously, what are you wearing? Did you guys have some kind of themed Christmas show? Because I do not remember you mentioning that.” There was a bell at the tip of his green hat and it made a merry little sound with every step he took. “Or is this a service that you provide to the community every year? You put this costume on and you go door-to-door spreading the festive spirit?”
Once he had reached the lounge room, he stopped walking, turning to face you and you could see he was still smiling. “No, you’re the only one I’m seeing.”
“Okay. Well, can the elf wrap the presents himself? Or was he expecting me to help ‘cause I’m good with ribbons?” You asked.
“I lied about needing wrapping paper.” He said.
“Huh? Why would you do that?” You asked, more confused than upset by the deception.
“It was the only excuse I could come up with to come and see you. I needed to see you.” He said, his tone more serious than you had been expecting of a man dressed in a novelty T-shirt.
“What on Earth is going on?” You asked. You were trying to pick up clues from his expression, but you weren’t sure you had seen him like this before.
“Okay. So, part of this thing is that I wanted to give you a good laugh. I know how stressful your job has been lately and I know that you’ll be spending Christmas alone.” He said and it was flattering to know how well he listened to you, even when you were just talking about your parents going to England to spend the holiday with your little sister. “I figured you could use a little extra merriment, from an external source. And it seems like I accomplished that, awesome.”
“Yeah, you have.” You said. “What’s the other part to this?”
He paused to set the sack down on the floor and take a deep breath. “Don’t feel any pressure to respond in a certain way. I’m gonna be honest with you and I just want you to be honest back.”
“Okay.” You said - you were too confused to joke with him in any way. Your brain was so preoccupied that you had stopped noticing the silly hat and shirt.
“I want you.” He said.
The monumental statement wasn’t followed up by any laughter, keeping the sincerity present.
“I don’t mean to surprise you with this. But it kind of surprised me.” He said, happy to fill the silence as you remained too stunned to speak. “It started at the Christmas party-... well, maybe that’s not fully true. I guess I’ve thought about you, us, a couple of times. But it changed, it got more serious after the party.
“I was genuinely joking with that naughty girl stuff, ‘cause that’s what we do, lightening the mood and all that. But the way you reacted… I would have to be blind to not see that. You were having thoughts about it that went beyond a joke, maybe feelings, too.
“A lot of people think you’re shy, I’ve seen new people come into the group with that perception of you. And by extension of that, you seem innocent.” He said. “But I don’t think you’re what you appear to be. Your reaction makes me think that you like being called names and you like being put in your place, in a very un-innocent way.
“And thinking about you like that you got me all worked up. And I’ve barely been able to get it out of my head. So I thought we could bring our ideas of what Santa would do with a naughty girl together, and see what we like best.” He said and he picked up the sack, bringing it to sit in front of his feet. “I have my bag of tricks and I have a role that you could play, if you’re interested…”
He paused, looking down as he drew in a deep breath. “And if you’re not… I completely respect that. I will just go away, I might hit up Rachel’s place on the way home and see if she has any rum that she can share, so then I can drink this embarrassing moment out of my brain.”
“She’s not gonna have it. There isn’t a single drop left anywhere in Italy because she used it all.” You said, smiling. “They’re rushing to import more from the West Indies, but that would take a couple of weeks to get here.”
He met your gaze again, smiling as well. You supposed that he was waiting for you to say something. 
You powered through the trepidation, endeavouring to meet him in the middle. You had to act on your feelings, denying them hadn’t gotten you anything good.
You walked the short distance that separated the two of you. The way he was looking at you added to the certainty you felt, able to combat the nerves. You were filled with adrenaline and the concept of stopping didn’t feel possible.
You placed yourself directly in front of him. You stepped over the sack with one foot as you raised both of your hands to his face. You cradled his cheeks in your hands, wondering if you had ever before been able to truly appreciate all of the beautiful features of his face at the same time like this. He was familiar, but changed enough to provide new excitement.
You expressed these different feelings by kissing him. And putting your lips to his felt immediately good, not that level of awkwardness a first kiss could hold. You weren’t making adjustments, nothing needed to be changed.
After a moment (perhaps giving you a window of time to change your mind and back out of this whole thing) he wrapped his arms around your waist. Your heart was fluttering as you tasted more-and-more of his top lip, the pleasing scent of his cologne adding to this. One of your hands travelled up, moving into his soft hair, enjoying what wasn’t trapped under the obnoxious hat.
You parted very slightly, your nose still resting against his as you tried to somewhat catch your breath. “Naughty girls get punished by Santa.” You said, not needing to pause to recall these words that had been ever-present in your mind since first hearing him say it.
“That’s right.” He said.
“Then how come you’re dressed as an elf?” You asked, teasing.
He laughed lightly, which you joined in on. “This was what I had at home. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” You said. “I don’t see it bothering me for long. Everything’s gonna come off of your body soon.”
He was grinning. “Are we-... do you really wanna do this?”
You caressed his cheek. “Yes, I’ve hardly been able to stop thinking about it too. But this isn’t the only time I’ve thought about you like this. Not to sound like a high schooler, but I’ve got a crush on you.”
“And you never told me?” He asked, the tips of his fingers playing at the spot under your chin. “Keeping secrets is more naughty girl behaviour.”
“It sounds like there’s a lot of things you could punish me over.” You said, the adrenaline keeping you from being too shy to say something like this. You could inhabit this character and speak your truth without overthinking every single word.
“Have you ever been punished before?” He asked, his tone less flirty.
“No, but I wanna be.” You said.
He gave you a brief kiss before taking a small step back. “We need to start with boundaries because I don’t wanna do anything that interrupts your fun. I’m not going to do this with you unless we do it the right way.” You nodded along, even though you didn’t fully understand what was expected of you yet. “Do you have any strict no’s?”
You couldn’t help feeling a little intimidated. Usually it took a few dates for you to get into this kind of kinky conversation, but you had only kissed this guy a couple of times.
“Uhm, I'm not a big fan of anal. If this is something you’re into, I’m sorry, but I don’t like calling people Daddy…”
“That’s totally fine.” He said. “Do you have a safe word?”
“No.”
“Well, have a think about it.” He said. “I don’t mean to make it sound intimidating. If there’s something you don’t want to do, you just have to tell me.”
You made an attempt at looking more confident, pushing your shoulders back slightly. “I’m not intimi-...” He compelled you back towards honesty without any words, a glance was all it took. “I’ll let you know.” In his silence, you noticed how the smile on his face was growing. “What, why are you looking at me like that? Did I say something funny?”
“No, there’s nothing funny. You’re just really adorable right now.” He said. “And I’m not used to seeing you like this. I like watching you squirm, it’s not how you usually act around me and it’s not just so fucking cute. It also gives me inspiration, it makes me want to do other things to see what else makes you squirm.”
“I’m squirming?” You asked, all of these movements had been happening involuntarily, they didn’t feel significant to you.
He had walked over closer to you again. “Yes and I’m getting a little obsessed with it.”
“I bet you could show me all new ways to squirm.” You said.
“Only if you're a good girl…”
You were smiling as he put his fingers under your chin, guiding you to tilt your head back so he could capture your mouth with a kiss. There was safety and excitement in the way he wrapped his arms around you. You didn’t resist this rush for one second, letting your lips part at the first touch of his tongue because you wanted to indulge deeper.
Before you could find that perfect rhythm with him, he was bringing the kiss to a gentle end. You waited to feel his lips again as his breath continued to caress your face.
When you opened your eyes, you found that he wasn’t moving in for another kiss. Instead he was carefully studying your face, seemingly unwilling to overlook a single feature. For the first time in your life, you felt like you understood what it meant to be admired.
“I'm more turned on than intimidated.” You wanted to clarify.
“And I intend to keep it like that.” He said as he smiled. “Do you wanna go into the bedroom?”
“Uh-huh, I really want to.”
He picked up the holiday-themed bag and you began down the short hallway.
The epiphany came to you as you were walking and you immediately spun around, needing to share the thought.
“Grinch.” You stated.
He stared at you, waiting for it to be his turn to talk. “I’m gonna need some sliver of context before I can get to be as happy about this word as you are.”
“What if we make Grinch the safe word?” You asked. “Or is that a bit too obvious and uninspired?”
“Of course we can use that. Good work, baby.” He said.
The way that he sounded so pleased added an extra spring in your step as you continued toward the bedroom. Earning his approval was having an effect on you.
And you definitely liked the sound of him calling you baby. It was so different from the way he would usually address you, joking as he called you dude. This rolled off his tongue giving you some intriguing feelings, which you didn’t feel compelled to run from. Your old reactions wouldn’t suffice in this brand new scenario.
Once you were standing in the illuminated bedroom you turned to face him, and he was instantly upon you. It seemed that none of the toys he had brought were breakable, with him paying no attention to how the sack landed after he had tossed it in the direction of your bed. You were more than willing to be distracted from this, getting swept up in more of his exciting kisses. He put his hands to either side of your face, holding you in exactly the place he wanted. You wrapped your arms around his middle, feeling the acceleration past the point of no return - you could not walk it back from here. 
You savoured how it felt to explore beyond the typical with him. His lips left yours, travelling downwards. As he continued gracing your skin with kisses, he tilted his head and the bell attached to his hat jingled. It was almost funny how out of place it was, failing to add anything to the established mood.
But you didn’t want to laugh and you didn’t want to hear anymore of it. You grabbed for the cap’s tail, the bell ringing again as you pulled the hat off of his head. His mouth was discovering your neck as you tossed the accessory away, hearing the jingle for the last time. Your hands moved into his hair, the soft strands gliding between your fingers. His slow kisses moved across more of your neck. You wondered if he would leave marks, they would be exciting to wear.
He paused before getting too much lower. “I can’t get to any of the fun bits, you’re so bundled-up.”
You scoffed. “It’s winter and it’s nighttime. What were you expecting, should I be lying around my apartment in lacy lingerie and high heels?”
“No.”
“Thank you.”
“You should be lying around in absolutely nothing.” He said.
“I guess that I’m gonna be the first present you unwrap this year.” You said.
He smiled and returned his lips to yours. But the distraction of getting you out of your clothes soon took priority. You saw the enthusiasm on his face as he undid the tie of your fuzzy bathrobe. He didn’t take his time, moving consistently quickly to remove your layered comfortable clothing.
Your skin formed goosebumps as you became more exposed. But this wasn’t in response to the low temperature that had seen you grab for so much covering. This was the anticipation, which was also keeping a blush in your cheeks.
You didn’t feel judged as his eyes took in all of the details of your naked body. You knew that your safety with him wasn’t at risk.
He began to experience your body beyond sight, and the touch of his hands brought to your attention just how sensitive you were. A caress to the small of your back brought warmth into your gut. The way he gave your hip an affectionate squeeze made you notice a tremble in your knees.
For the moment you had entirely forgotten about his sack, you definitely weren’t trying to guess at which sex toys were inside. You were feeling like a toy yourself, being played with. He was gently exploring you, getting a hint of your features that lay beneath the surface. 
His fingers continued to trail all over your bare skin and you saw the tantalising sparkle in his eyes before he gave you some more kisses. You wrapped your arms around his middle, low enough that you could slip your hands under the hem of his festively foolish shirt. Now it was your turn for fingers to trail as you appreciated his skin differently to ever before.
You followed your inclination to experience more of this, aware of your greed rising. One of your hands travelled up his back, while the other pulled the hem up because you were wondering how it would feel to have your bare skin pressed against his. It was a very inviting idea and you continued to gradually raise the bottom of his shirt.
His fingers caressed your cheeks as the kiss reached a gradual conclusion. “Are you feeling a bit eager? Don’t get too distracted now, you’re the one getting unwrapped here, babe.”
“What? I’m just trying to make it more even, is that so bad?” You asked.
“I wouldn’t classify impatience as a good girl quality.” He said with just the right amount of sternness in his voice.
You played along, pouting your bottom lip out a little. “You’re gonna make my punishment harder ‘cause I don’t like to wait?”
“Your punishment will be as harsh as you want it.”
“As harsh as you want.” You corrected.
“I have something that could be a counter to that impatience before you get too unruly.” He said.
“Alright, I trust you.”
It seemed that this was the right answer because it earned you some more kisses. As you soaked up the heat from his body, he slightly altered the way he was holding you. One of his hands reached lower to the back of your thigh and his arm tightened around your waist. Squeezing you close to him, he manipulated your body until both of your feet were leaving the ground.
This gave you a different type of rush. You had never been carried by a partner like this before. You clung to him as your eagerness continued to run rampant through your system, unwilling to forfeit its dominance. The muscles on his arms that you had noticed a fair amount of times weren’t just for show, he held you steady. He took careful steps, moving blindly as his focus went to continuing to kiss you.
He made it to the bed with barely a falter of his grip. The momentum changed and you were moved away from his body, his hands guiding you elsewhere. Your butt reached the mattress first as your eyes started to flutter open.
He was in the ideal spot directly in front of you for no more than a second. Then he was turning away, fetching the bag he had brought to delight you with. You regained your balance, trying to anticipate what he was about to show you, even though there were no visual clues. Judging by what he had said, you expected some form of restraints - but which style would he favour? Fuzzy handcuffs would go with the novelty of a Santa sack. Or did he prefer the precision and care of tying you up manually?
Amongst the other items in the sack, he found one, showing it to you as he walked over again. You were pleased to be proven correct by the sight of handcuffs, his thumb hooked through one of the shut loops. These weren’t novelty items, there were two thick cuffs that appeared to be made of leather. Despite the cute stars printed across them, you knew they would be strong enough to hold you.
“Would you like to veto these?” He asked. “And there isn’t a limit on your vetoes, you can use as many as you need.”
You were shaking your head before he had finished speaking. You weren’t very interested in ruling things out - you had already decided that you wanted to show off how much you could take. You were attached to the idea of impressing him.
Your eyes went to his other hand, which held the bag, its shape distorted by the items it still held. “It’s pretty obvious you didn’t just come over here with some cuffs. What’s left in that sack, what else did you bring?”
He smiled without a hint of bashfulness. “I think you’re probably better off asking what I didn’t bring.”
He wasn’t about to show you his entire hand yet. Instead of upending the bag, he reached in to collect something else currently out of your sight. A subtle crease came into his brow as he briefly concentrated. Before you could offer any assistance, he achieved his goal and showed you two of his fingers brightly decorated. They were unique finger puppets, but they weren’t entirely unfamiliar to you. You leaned forward, eyes greedily studying the little protruding bumps and ridges.
“Oh, I used to own stuff like that, I know how they work.” You said.
He didn’t let this deflate him or take away from his presentation at all. “You know all about them, huh?” You nodded, still feeling some self-confidence. “But have you had someone use them on you?” You stopped nodding. “‘Cause that can really change the experience. Do you want me to demonstrate that?”
You weren’t intimidated, feeling like you weren’t entirely out of your depth yet allowed you to stay possessed by intrigue. “Uh-huh.”
The cuffs and the remaining contents of the bag were ignored for the moment. He came in close again and you were relieved to not have to wait for the next kiss. You shut your eyes and drew your desires purely from his mouth.
You could have gotten distracted by this, still learning the little techniques that his kisses possessed. But before you could fully forget about the accessories placed on his fingers, you were feeling the rubber toy stroking down your chest. It dragged across your skin differently to his bare touch and you were hotly anticipating where you might feel the other toy.
The second stimulator got your attention when he flicked it against one of your hardened nipples. You couldn’t help flinching, bringing laughter from him, even as he continued to kiss you. The sound was muffled by your mouths, dying out as you pictured that cocky grin on his face.
He began to trail his fingers (both covered and not) down one side of your body. This whisper of a touch left you with goosebumps. He moved his hand up-and-down, applying pressure with the toys in a kind of massage, the slow patterns were so attentive. At the same time his tongue was pushing into the small space between your lips, easing them further apart. The exploration of his tongue paired perfectly with the caresses of his hands, one on either side of your body now.
You squeezed your thighs together when you felt him firmly grab your hips, almost pinching. Then he rubbed and clenched his fingers, rubbed and clenched. You couldn’t help lifting your hips a little, keen to press more of yourself against him. His tongue kept playing against the roof of your mouth, encouraging you further.
“I like the way you’re squirming under me.” He said. “I can tell this good girl is enjoying herself already, hm?”
“Mm-hmm.” You responded.
His hands moved lower than your hips, the toys pushing against your skin. The movement held your focus. He went to your ass, holding it in his hands, fingers extending and massaging this area. It seemed to you that he was truly trying to learn your body, giving you the sense that this was so much more than a fleeting interest and you let yourself get more excited, writhing a bit more frequently now. 
When you opened your eyes it was to find him watching you, something of a smile still on his face as your reactions intrigued him. He noticed you looking and smiled a bit wider. His hands were now dragging up-and-down, going from the top of your butt to the tops of your thighs.
“I’m not used to having a knowledge advantage like this. You’re so clever, so quick, so tuned in, you always know more than me. Not in a cocky, or arrogant way- that’s never been you. But you’re a smart, smart girl, and maybe this is an area where I’m ‘smarter’, so I think I might savour how this feels.” He said. “Having all the control as I show you something new, surprise you a little.”
“That means you’re gonna stretch this teasing out, aren’t you?” You asked.
“Is that not what you want, baby?” He asked with a teasing grin now on his face.
“I need to work on my patience. And I just want to know if it will be worth it.” You said.
“Of course it will be worth it. If you can earn it: you’re going to get a big reward.” He said. “And I don’t really wanna rush something I’ve waited so long for.”
“Waited, what do you mean?” You asked.
“All of the times you’ve popped into my head and I’ve wondered if it would only work as a quick fantasy… what’s that expression, if I had a dollar for every time?”
“You would have a lot of dollars?” You offered.
“Precisely.” He said. “Naturally my smart girl knew what I was talking about straight away.”
You wondered if he would be able to give you a more specific amount of this metaphorical money - you made a note to hold this question for later.
For now you were just concentrating on kissing him, his mouth covering yours again. His expectations were present in your mind, but they couldn’t intimidate you, not while you were preoccupied by how right everything felt. One kiss melted into another, a perfectly correct rhythm.
You felt one of his hands wrap around your thigh, the fingers splayed out in a purposeful grasp. He began to ease your legs apart.
Your concentration instantly sharpened when his covered fingers got to the area typically covered by your panties. You wrapped an arm around his neck, needing a hint of steadiness. He rubbed and massaged at your pubic mound, the pressure enticing you. You noticed how much blood was pumping into this area - all before he had made any contact with your labia majora. He was warming your body up inch-by-inch and it was splendid.
You felt the want pooling in your cunt as he started to work over your labia. He took his time to caress these folds, the rubber fingers gliding over your pubic hairs. It was a nice increase of intimacy, keeping you on track of hoping for what his next move would feel like.
He broke the kiss and you saw how he was grinning, his tongue dragging over his top row of teeth. “Isn’t that so much fun, so much more fun than just playing on your own?” He asked.
“Mm-hmm.”
It seemed he wasn’t done with making you wait. Instead of going forward, he took his fingers away and it was only the cool air touching your pussy.
But you didn’t relax, expecting more and wanting to be prepared.
You kept your eyes shut for the moment. You weren’t motivated to open them until he spoke again and he had straightened up, some distance between your bodies as he returned his hands to the sack of supplies.
“So you’ve met this kind of toy before, how about this? How familiar are you with this?” He asked, showing you a larger object.
“Oh, a wand. Of course I’ve used one of those before.” You said.
His hand went back into the sack. “Alright, I’m gonna need something to help me surprise you, then.” He produced an eye mask, which bore the same star pattern you had seen on the handcuffs. “Do you want to veto this?”
“No, but, well, I mean, not veto, but…” His eyebrows raised as you stumbled over your words. “I’m not against the blindfold, but am I really not gonna get to see you? You get to see me totally naked, but I’m not gonna see anything?”
“Just for a little while…” He said and he wore a smile as he came closer with the eye mask. “God, you’re adorable when you’re pouting like that. Don’t worry, kitten, you will get to see me naked, I’m here to tease you, not subject you to cruel deprivation.” He eased the mask over the top of your head, not pulling it any lower than your eyebrows for now. “My plan is actually for you to get sick of the sight of me naked.”
You smiled at this obvious joke. “Why would that be your goal? That would take a whole lot of nakedness.”
“Exactly.” He said. “What’s your definitive verdict for the blindfold?”
“I’m okay with it. That's the same stars as the…”
“Uh-huh, it goes with the cuffs. Actually it’s from a four-piece set. It also came with this…” He left the mask not blocking any of your view, his focus going back to the bag. He pulled out a small, flexible-looking paddle. Its body was decorated with the same solid white stars.
Then he showed you another item, which carried on the star motif on its thick straps. These adjustable straps were short and attached to a modestly sized ball. You knew exactly where that solid sphere was supposed to go, and it truly intimidated you.
“A ball-gag?” You asked, wondering how you could stall for a little time.
“Yeah, we don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. Personally, it’s not my favourite. But I brought it along anyway because I’m here to explore your favourites, and we’re gonna do that without judgement, one hundred percent.”
“I don’t need it.” You said.
“Cool, let’s just…” He trailed off, stopping himself mid-gesture. “I was gonna throw this to the side, but I don’t want your boy to come along and think it’s a toy for him and get at it.”
“Iggy’s scared of everyone, you’re literally not gonna see him at all.” You said of your cat.
The ball-gag returned into the sack and you felt better for it. He opened the velcro of one of the handcuffs. You straightened your arm and he wrapped the band around your wrist, then pressed the two ends together. You were smiling as you offered your other wrist to him.
“I’m proud of you for using a veto.” He said as he got the second cuff secured.
“Oh, thanks.” You said, not entirely sure how to respond to this unexpected compliment. Was it sexy to him that you had said no? You supposed that one veto wasn’t going to place many limitations on him, the bag in his hand still heavy with possibilities.
He kissed you, his fingers brushing up against the sides of your face. You lifted your hands, the chain giving a little rattle to remind you of your restrictions as you extended your arms. You held onto his shirt as his tongue massaged against your lips.
You felt something soft pressing against the top of your face. When he eased away, you opened your eyes to only see the dark fabric of the eye mask. You continued to hold onto his shirt as you waited for his kiss. You knew that it would anchor you through the rushing emotions and uncertainty.
A new but quiet sound got your curiosity as soon as you heard it. This proceeded you feeling the vibrations of the massaging wand, its rounded head pushed into the soft area beneath your belly button. At the same time, he leaned his body into yours. You had the sense that he was close enough to kiss, but it didn’t come.
“Lay back.” He said.
You instantly leaned away, your body blindly seeking out the bed. “So stern. Yes, sir.”
His lips crashed against yours before you were laid out. He was setting a lustful pace, faster than before.
Your back reached the bed, with him lying on top of you. The pressure from his weight was wonderful, further adding to the concept that he was fully in charge.
You had stopped noticing the mechanical humming of the magic wand. But it was brought back to your attention when he applied the stimulating bulb to your pubic mound. Your heart launched into your throat and you were breathlessly trying to keep up with his rushed kisses.
“It’s better like this, hm? It’s less intimidating for you, right?” He asked in a low voice. “Because you’re not trying to read my expression, you aren’t worrying about where I’m looking. You don’t have to wear the blindfold for the whole night, but it’s got its advantages.”
“I’m seeing that.” You said before giving a giggle. “Well, not seeing in the literal sense, but you know what I mean.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’re still maintaining that knowledge advantage.” You said.
“And loving every second of it.” He said. “Raise your hands up above your head.” It wasn’t a request. At the same time you were feeling the vibrating toy moving lower, in a drawn-out manner.
“Yes, sir.” You said, making this adjustment.
In the same second that you had finished speaking, he swiftly delivered the vibrator to your clitoral hood. This opened you up to an excitement greater than before and you couldn’t help squirming as his body kept you pinned down. The vibrations titillated you, awakening nerves, even at this low setting.
His lips going to one of your nipples brought a choked sob from your mouth. He began to suck and the intensity perfectly matched the vibrations, creating a fire in your gut. You saw stars, but these weren’t the same as what was printed on the fabric. These little stars were appearing and glowing prettily in your imagination.
He transferred to the other nipple and increased the toy’s pulsations. He kept it against your clit, set on this as the best location.
When he gradually moved his mouth down lower, he also took the sex toy to a lower spot. Now its smooth head nestled between where your puffy lips usually concealed your entrance. The pressure he utilised had you feeling the consistent vibrations in your labia minora, an intensity you needed more than a moment to adjust to.
The desire reached deeper into you, rocking you on a greater level as his lips massaged across your skin. You were amazed by how much effort he was putting into your experience, working so hard for your pleasure. His lips trailed onto your belly as he stepped the vibrations up to the next mode.
You felt his lips parting so he could flit his tongue on your skin from time-to-time. And as you rode the sensations higher, more sounds fell from your mouth. Containing them felt entirely beyond your control and your face coloured with more pink as he heard every honest reaction.
He adjusted how his weight rested, lying his body on your legs as he progressed to kissing beneath your waistline. Your hands went to the pillow, gripping it as a means of supporting yourself as you anticipated what might be next.
The surprise was more than you could fathom when your clit was encapsulated by unique vibrations. Your mouth opened but no words came out as your brain struggled to make sense of what you were experiencing. The massage on your clitoral hood existed independent of the work of the stimulating wand, which he was continuing to hold at your entrance. This didn’t deliver the moisture from his lips, and you could still feel those on your belly, anyway.
You didn’t know what created the sensation, but you did know that you liked it. You watched the unreal stars growing, completely blind to anything else as your mind focused on the present.
“There’s the surprise I wanted.” He said, the stimulants persisting at the two spots on your crotch.
“Oh, uh-huh.” You gasped as your back arched.
“And have I found a toy you aren’t familiar with?” He asked, his tone a little gloating.
“I think so.” You said, slowly adjusting to this unrelenting intensity.
You guessed that he was no longer within kissing range, now his voice seemed to be coming from a spot close to your hip. It wasn’t much of a leap to presume he was getting a close-up view of how your pussy was reacting to his treatment.
“This fun little tool is a clit sucker.” He said as the pulsations continued to engulf the hood.
“I definitely don’t need to use a veto for that.” You said.
He chuckled. “That’s good baby, that’s really good.”
He took the wand away from your pussy. You weren’t sure where it was relocated to, you just took the opportunity to concentrate fully on what was happening to your clitoral hood.
When the pulsations came in harder, you could only guess how much he had turned it up by. Were there more powerful levels he intended to use on you?
It didn’t feel the exact same as having a pair of lips sucking on your sensitive peak. But it felt wonderful in its own way, consistently getting you more excited, until your toes started to curl.
All of a sudden there was an external heat at your entrance, with him pressing a kiss onto your pussy lips. Your heart skipped a few beats and you awaited more.
It didn’t take long for him to initiate another kiss, then another - more-and-more until it felt like he was making out with your entrance. He sampled how your desires tasted with some swipes of his tongue. All the while he kept the active toy sucker on your clit.
His tongue began moving into you, prompting your thighs to quiver and shake. More noises began to swell up in your chest and you bit into your lower lip, feeling unwilling to fully share them. He lapped in deeper, and greedy (yet incoherent) whines came from you, barely muffled. You sucked on your lip as great chunks fell out of your composure.
“Hey, hang on…” He said once his lips were detached from your cunt. “No, no, no, don’t hurt that pretty lip.”
You stopped what you were doing before you had fully understood what he said. You lifted your head from the pillow, momentarily forgetting that the eye mask blocked your vision.
“That’s my lip to bite on, to suck, to play with- I’m gonna be the reason it’s swollen tomorrow, okay?” He said. You hoped that your continuing wiggling wouldn’t be perceived as you not listening (something worth punishment). You simply couldn’t hold yourself still, not while the sucking device was working its magic. You nodded your head to prove that you were paying attention, trying your best to behave.
“If you really need something to bite down on…”
“Not the ball-gag.” You said quickly.
“No, no, I wouldn’t dream of bringing it back.” He instantly reassured you. “Here, bite on this if you need to.”
Something flat nudged against your lip and you complied by opening your mouth. Your mouth was only partially filled. As you shut it, the confusion left you, he had given you the flexible paddle to set your teeth into. Or at least that was what you guessed it to be. You could comfortably close your lips around it, keeping it in place without his assistance.
“Is that good?” He asked and you gave him the only answer you could of nodding your head. “And what about this?”
He seemed to refocus on how he was holding the sucking device to your clit, bringing it closer so that you could feel its pulsations with complete consistency again. Appreciatively your hips bucked up, which made the toy’s power all the more apparent. The makeshift-gag muffled your whimper.
“Yeah, that’s good for you, huh?” He asked. “And this is probably even better.”
He turned the vibrations up and your jaw clenched, your teeth locking onto the paddle. You raised your bound hands up to your face as you felt yourself getting lost for the moment. The intensity was huge, making you feel like all of your senses were being overwhelmed. How could you grasp for even a shred of composure in your current state?
He parted the device from your clitoris and it felt like you could come back to yourself a little. The breaths you drew were shaky, but they were full.
Then his tongue returned to your cunt. This slower stimulation felt like exactly what you needed, with him lapping appreciatively at the moisture. You lowered your hands and stopped gritting your teeth against the paddle as you started to settle into this sensation.
He slowly dragged his tongue up to your clitoral hood. You blindly reached your hands out, placing them on his head with your fingers exploring the soft strands of hair. Your lungs filled with more (needed) air as he gently drew circles around your sensitive nub.
Before you could get too invested in this progression, the intensity sharply increased with the reintroduction of the sucking device. You gave a dramatic twitch beneath him.
The thrilling vibrations were taking you back to that place with no thoughts and limited control. The quivering in your thighs was soon accompanied by the thrusting of your hips. They moved according to their own rhythm, just trying to make use of all of this feverish excitement. It accelerated the effects of the device.
But you didn’t find the ideal pacing, because the device was taken away too soon. This void was filled by his mouth before too long. As he worked his tongue and lips on your clit, you decided that this felt better than the device - this was the sublime experience of having your clit sucked.
The toy couldn’t replicate this perfectly. But when he switched it back, you still found plenty to enjoy of how it treated your clitoral hood, keeping your mind blissfully blank. It was a solid consolation, you couldn’t deny how titillating its vibrations were.
He kept switching from one to the other, your clit consistently stimulated and the tingles this brought to your body only grew more pronounced. You gave in more with each switch, beginning to see each as your path to orgasm.
But he never quite let you get that high. You spat the paddle out of your mouth, letting him hear your noises louder, in the hopes this would persuade him to allow you to ride this excitement to its logical end.
You pumped your hips, patience wavering as you tried to match him, tried to find the essential synergy. Your hands in his hair curled into unthreatening fists, gripping as more of your desperation showcased itself.
“Sir…” You whimpered, hoping you had found the cheat code to make him give you exactly what you wanted.
He applied more pressure with his tongue as he repeatedly worked it up-and-down against your clitoral hood. In response you lifted your ass higher off the bed. Your pussy was brought flush to his face as he seemed focused on working your clit in this promising way. His hand grabbed your butt as you delivered thrust after thrust into his face. The stars in your eyes got even brighter as it began to feel like your body was floating. A powerful fire burnt in your gut, with involuntary sounds falling from your mouth (you were too enchanted to feel self-conscious over whether the sounds were to his liking or not).
Your next noise was a loud and mournful moan when he took his mouth off of you. You kept your hands in his hair, even as your arms shook. The seconds without feeling anything from him seemed to stretch out.
“Please, don’t stop.” You said as he kept you waiting.
“Oh, so you’re not a fan of edging?” He asked, his tone so casual.
“I can’t say that I am.” You said, squirming in your wet-thighed anticipation.
“But the noises you’re making are just so nice, so so sexy, can you really blame me for wanting to savour them? I’ve been waiting a long time to hear you like this.” He said.
You huffed, trying to find the winning approach as you pouted again. “But-but don’t you wanna know how I’ll sound when I come? Aren’t you curious about hearing that noise?”
He caressed your ass now, still not giving you what felt as essential as oxygen. “I suppose that’s the noise I really want to hear. But I didn’t know that you wanted to come.”
“Damiano.” You substituted the curse words populating your brain for his name.
“What?” He asked, playing at being oblivious. “How am I supposed to know what you want unless you tell me?”
“Is that what this is about, you’ve been waiting for me to say it?” You asked.
“Uh-huh. I wanna hear you say exactly what you want. I wanna hear your dirty talk.” He said.
You shifted your legs, feeling a seed of insecurity over the possibility of doing this wrong. You wanted to sound sexy for him - but did you know how?
“Don’t overthink it.” He told you, demonstrating a superior intuition of what you could be thinking thanks to how long he had known you. “Just say what you want, that’s all I’m looking for.”
“Well, I wanna… I wanna come.” You said, feeling like you were stating the absolute obvious.
His fingers caressed your butt and it was the only thing that you had to hold onto.
“Uh-huh, and who’s gonna make you come?” He asked.
“You. I want you to make me come.” You said, before rushing to add. “Please.”
“Good girl.” He said. “How do you want me to make you come?”
Fingers playing in his hair, you considered making a joke. You could poke fun at him by saying that it was more than dirty talk he was after: he was going to have you write an essay of how you wanted to achieve an orgasm before he actually made it happen.
You wet your lips as you let this half-baked idea go. You chose to not get distracted. “I want your lips and your tongue.”
“Want them to do what?” He prompted.
“Please, I want you to use them on my pussy to make me come.” You said, too impatient to feel embarrassed over saying something so explicit. “Please.”
This proved to be what he needed to hear. Without a further word, he returned his mouth to your pussy, satisfying the way you burnt to feel more.
He didn’t come at you with any of the toys (both known and not). Instead he was finding his own rhythm with just his mouth and you let out an appreciative moan. Your hands rested on the back of his head as you got drunk on how these wonderful sensations were building. He kept one of his hands on your ass, a secure hold that was matched by the way he gripped at the top of your thigh, maintaining the distance between your legs that he wanted.
He created something of a seal around your clitoral hood with his lips, then applied his tongue to it. He played with the peak, seeing how far he could push it and experimenting with your responses to different patterns. You could focus on every swirl, no stops or toys to interrupt the flow. It was simpler than before, but it was such an effective way of blowing your mind.
He moved his tongue up-and-down consistently, not letting his mouth slip even slightly. The pressure was fantastic and you capitalised on this by thrusting your hips, driving your pussy into his face again. Your hands gripped his hair, needing him to stay where he was.
It didn’t matter how hard or fast you grinded, his mouth never failed you. You felt your chest hollowing and it seemed that you became smaller, so easily dwarfed by the immense pleasure.
Your breaths were marked by little whimpers as the effort took more-and-more from you. But you knew it would be worth it, getting blinded by the imaginary stars.
He made a slurping sound as he worked to keep the moisture in his mouth. The suck that corresponded with this brought a tremendous quake through your core.
You were irrevocably overpowered, levitating off of the bed further than before. Your fingers gripped onto his hair as you began to greet that lovely edge.
“Yes.” You whined, feeling how good it was to let everything go. “Oh my God, yes.”
You began to come undone, getting lost entirely.
There was an unexpected spike, the pleasure hitting a new level when he reintroduced the wand vibrator. You felt the pulsations in your clitoris as your pussy enjoyed the climax.
It was a spectacular explosion, the aftershocks still racing through you even after the vibrator was taken away. You didn’t know how to pull yourself back together, but for now you didn’t care.
The brightness of the room came back to your attention before you had opened your eyes. He had pushed the eye mask out of the way, allowing the light to push against your eyelids. The corners of your lips started to lift into a smile.
“Feeling that extra merriment now?” He asked before his lips captured yours for a moment.
“So much.” You said. “The merriest ever.”
“But I haven’t finished showing you all the surprises in my sack.” He said.
“And you still haven’t taken that silly costume off.” You said.
“It’s part of my character and it’s effective.” He said in his own defence before he seemingly had a realisation. He sat back on his knees and reached for the bottom of the green shirt. “But I guess it has served its purpose.”
He discarded the shirt and you were finally given the luxury of your eyes exploring his torso with little to no shyness. You could study like you never had before, really fixating on the details. You could notice and be enticed by everything that you saw.
You were grateful when he didn’t hesitate to take his jeans down. But just watching wasn’t enough to satisfy the desires swirling through you.
You extended your arms out. But before your hands could reach the waistband of his briefs, he stopped you by grabbing the chain that connected your handcuffs. He gave you a stern, but not disapproving, look as he used the chain to direct your hands closer to your chest.
“You haven’t learnt how to be patient yet?” He asked and you instantly identified this as a challenge.
It wasn’t a challenge you could ignore. “I guess I haven’t fully grasped the concept.”
You saw his eyes flicker, but the movement that corresponded with it was too quick for you to see. Instead of seeing him pick up the paddle, you felt its return to the scene.
He slapped the flat object against the side of your thigh, instantly compelling you to ditch any further challenges. Your breath hitched as you felt your leg heat and sting. You were caught off-guard by this sensation, needing to pause to figure out your own reaction.
His eyes were on your face, he was holding the paddle up, his arm tensed as if to strike again. But he didn’t follow through. At first you were reminded of a video that was buffering.
Then you realised he was waiting for your consent. And you gave it. You licked your lips as you turned your hips a little, presenting him with more thigh, and even some butt, to spank. You kept your hands to yourself, lying on your chest in what seemed like a safe zone.
The next slap from the paddle surprised you less, now you knew how to register the feeling. You liked it, hoping your skin would glow pink in a way that would please him.
There were no words coming to mind because the seconds between each spank were filled by you trying to prepare for the next. Then when it came, your mind went totally blank. As the sting radiated out, you began the climb of anticipation again. Your body was filling with tension, growing more intense. But you held onto the faith that he would be able to resolve all of it.
Another satisfying slap filled the quiet in the room. You heard his heavy breathing as more heat filled into the raised side of your butt. You still weren’t feeling pain from the continuing spanks, it was a sharp sensation and each time it cut through absolutely everything else. Your enjoyment was only increasing.
He pulled his arm back and your eyes fluttered shut as you awaited the next strike. Instead, he spoke. “Do you feel like having another try at behaving correctly?” He placed the paddle against your ass, resting it against the curve. “Or would you rather be a naughty girl?” Your need to be cheeky had definitely dulled. “There’s something I really want to show you from my sack. But I’m not about to share it with a naughty girl.”
“I’ll be good.” You said. “I’ll be very good, sir.”
He smiled, starting to lean down. Before his mouth could meet yours, he gave you another slap from the paddle. You couldn’t help flinching but you loved how it felt, settling into the feeling as he kissed you again. You let out a little whimper, your hands going to his hot pectorals.
Before you could get too accustomed to how his bare skin felt on yours, he pulled away. He ditched the paddle as he stood up.
He brought a small, slim box out of the sack. He moved too quickly for you to properly gain all of the details from the box. The device that came from it wasn’t familiar. It was matte black, probably made of silicone. It had two thin prongs, which kind of resembled legs, coming together at a compact disc. You kept your eyes on it, willing clarity to come.
He set it down on the bed, beside your leg, then proceeded to get something new from the bag. This next thing was far more straight-forward - a box of condoms. He collected one of the packaged items before getting back to taking his pants off. As soon as they were lowered, he took his underwear down as well. There was no missing how keen he was - immediately the stiffness of his dick confirmed that you had succeeded in turning him on.
There was a portion of yourself that felt self-conscious for wanting his cock so much. But overwhelmingly, you felt excited. All of the lust that had been developing now had a place to land.
He started at the tip, covering it then unrolling the latex further. As you watched this motion, you thought about what it would be like to experience his dick for the first time purely through taste. It was an intriguing and enticing fantasy, it didn’t seem farfetched to assume he would greatly enjoy it too, continuing your seduction.
But then you realised he didn’t want you to have any thoughts at all. At once you tried to empty your mind.
When he picked the tong-esque item up, you noticed a second, detached disc, but he held this in the palm of his hand, downplaying any significance.
“Did I bring another surprise?” He asked.
“Yeah, I have no idea what that is. I might be able to guess what it does.”
“You can guess, if you wanna. Or I could tell you and explain it. Or I could show you.” He said, entertained even in this in-between moment.
“Show me, please sir.” The answer seemed so obvious to you.
He grinned as he climbed up, placing his knees on the bed. “I really like it when you call me that.”
“Then I guess I have no choice but to keep saying it.”
Remaining above you, he placed the new device on you, its legs reaching toward your mound. At first you felt only the faint hint of its weight and nothing else.
Then he pressed a button on the tiny remote in his hand, and the disc on your lower tummy silently began to vibrate. It wasn’t too intense straight away, but it was enough to make you smile. He dragged it closer to your cunt and you worked to not squirm in your anticipation. You looked from the strangely-shaped device to his face - naturally he was still smiling, as his eyes glittered.
“But what do these little legs do?” He asked the question that was on your mind.
He picked the toy up and showed you how the prongs could be repositioned, bending them with little to no resistance. He curved them to face opposite directions and you were doing a lot of thinking trying to figure out the advantages of this. Was it supposed to go inside of you? It looked too thin, but you guessed the capability to hit two different angles at once had a lot of potential.
“Uh-huh, and what’s the point of that?” He asked.
He answered by taking the toy down, towards his dick as he changed the bend in the legs again. He placed it over his length, the connecting disc at the top. He gave the legs another repositioning twist, one at a time wrapping them around his cock, close to the base. He got this adjustable cock ring how he wanted, the ends of the legs crossed over at his balls.
“That’s a great surprise.” You said, showing him that you were less confused.
“You like looking at it, wait until you feel it. Wait until this pad is vibrating against your clit while I’m fucking you so deep.” He said.
Your legs were already spread, it was hard to know how much longer you would be able to hold yourself back. “Show me, sir?”
This earned you the proximity that came with making out. You lifted your arms out of the way, passing the cuff’s chain over his head. You rested your hands at the base of his neck as his body pressed so perfectly on top of yours. You settled into one another, lips working together as the synergy kept strengthening.
With no hesitation, you moved deeper into the lust. Your thighs clung to his hips as his tongue tasted and played with your bottom lip. Your tensed body wanted to melt for him more than anything.
He sucked on your lip as he started to sink down into you, accepted by your thoroughly-primed pussy. You identified this as the best sensation of the night, instantly superior to the toys, and definitely worth waiting for. Your fingers curled, grasping for his hair as you stretched to accommodate him further.
His body settled on top of you, fitting in between your legs. This closeness brought even more excitement - you already knew that he would be able to take you to another stunning peak. He had more energy to give to your pleasure.
Rather than seeking the greatest penetration at once, he gave you time to adjust. He was going to build to the moment of overwhelming you. For now he tested his range of movement, pumping his hips so you could feel the potential of what he could do with his shaft.
Gradually he worked himself deeper. You couldn’t help imposing little breaks between kisses as the pressure increased inside of you. 
It wasn’t long before you gave up from trying to keep up with his mouth altogether, a parting suck applied to your lip before you leaned your head slightly back. You decided to give your attention to moving your hips, attempting to match his affectionate pace.
Before you could truly sync yourself to him, the vibrating toy collided with you, surprising you momentarily beyond comprehension. Your hips dramatically jutted up as your mind slowly began to catch up. You shook as you adjusted to this new intensity.
It seemed your vulnerability was clear because he paused to ask. “Are you okay, bella? Is it too much?”
You arched your back to press into him, smiling. “Oh, it’s good. It’s really fucking good.”
“You don’t need your safe word?” He asked, still not moving.
“Absolutely not.” You said.
You opened your eyes and lifted your head in the pursuit of capturing his lips in a kiss. It didn't matter how short on breath you were feeling, you prioritised cultivating your connection with these excited kisses.
You also drove your hips forward, craving the beginnings of friction. He stopped hesitating and grabbed your butt as he gave you a push, moving in deeper. You couldn’t help whimpering as he delivered another thrust.
He swiftly and confidently took the lead - it made you want to call him sir repeatedly.
With each pump from him, you had begun to feel the silicone legs of the toy wrapped around his dick. You felt the smooth material rubbing against your pussy, but you had yet to register the vibrations (not that you felt you needed it).
You rested your head in the curve of his neck, unable to keep up with his kisses. But you were managing to stay with the pacing of his hips. You met every strike, lengthening each motion and giving you even more to enjoy. His energy was matching and coming together with yours as it had so many times over the past two years - but in a brand new way, more intense than you would have associated with him.
This was the most important mutual goal you had ever worked toward with him. You stuck with him, even as the threat of getting overwhelmed crept in again.
As everything wanted to shatter around you, he remained your constant. Listening to his raspy breaths kept you from getting entirely lost. Your short nails pressed into his skin and your nostrils were filled with the enticing scent of his sweat mixed with cologne. You didn’t care about anything beyond his body.
The tender massage between your inner-walls got even deeper, touching at a depth his tongue hadn’t reached. It brought the stars back to your shut eyes, but they were so much bigger and brighter now.
“Fuck.” You exclaimed in response to feeling the vibrations on your clit again.
Your gut clenched as you rode this sensation higher. He let you enjoy this stimulation, not rocking back according to the earlier pacing. Your cunt fluttered and spasmed around him. This prompted some cuss words from him too.
He writhed against you, barely pulling his hips away. Instead he completed some quasi-thrusts, seeing what else could be gained from this closeness. 
When he returned to full motion, it was absolutely electric. The quick touches of the vibrator to your clitoral hood were enough to keep you reeling.
The perfect synergy of your bodies soon brought you back to the edge. Little ecstatic cries began to fall from your lips.
“Yes, uh yes, yes-yes.” You stammered as you failed to meet more than a few of his bucks.
He kissed across your forehead, something so affectionate was in direct contrast with the frantic rhythm of his body. “Merry Christmas, babe.”
Hearing that wholesome phrase was so unexpected that it felt out of place and you couldn’t help but laugh. This noise transformed quickly into an audibly strangled breath as he plunged all the way in again.
There was no composure left for you to regain. Even as he adopted slow and shorter strokes, you were helplessly overstimulated.
He put his hands to your sides, a determined hold. He kept his hips pressed against yours as he grinded into you repeatedly. The vibrator was directly on your clit, the pulsations were ready to devastate you.
“It feels like you’re ready to come.” He said. “Are you?”
The prospect of him edging you again occurred to you, and you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist before you answered. (You didn’t know how you would cope if he put you through more of that.) “Yes, yes sir, I am.”
He spared you any further teasing, he didn’t retract. He stayed close, quickly snapping his hips. He whimpered as he kept working his tip on your sensitive walls.
You held him tighter (your cunt clenching too), giving yourself up to the pressure that just kept rising. Your hips stuttered at their own tempo, there was no rhyme or reason to it, simply moving to express some of your excitement. He didn’t correct this behaviour, letting you continue as everything began to come together.
Your gut tightened and you had to bite your lip to stop the loudest noises from getting free. He moaned your name over the consistent sound of your skin slapping together.
“Oh, fuck. I think I’m…” His pitch changed and you noticed how he had begun to be plagued by tremors. “Yeah, I’m gonna come, like right now.”
You were holding onto his taut shoulders as you opened your eyes. As he remained in motion, you saw the look of concentration on his face. Instantly you were enthralled by the idea of seeing him become complete, as you were on the threshold of.
“Yeah?” You asked.
“Yeah. Oh yes, yes, yes.” He said, his eyes squeezed shut as he kept rubbing into that deepest part of you. “Yes, yes, fuckin’ yes.”
You wanted to watch him driving to that point of perfection. But the relentless pulsing against your clitoris was stealing your focus, insisting that you fall apart. The fluttering of your eyelids became harder to fight against.
There was a powerful moan that was swelling in your throat as he suddenly became rigid. He pressed against you firmly, loudly trying and failing to catch his breath. You felt how he shivered on top of you, demonstrating less control than any other point of the night.
The pressure caused by having him so close (and deep), with the vibrating disc still on your clitoris, was enough to take you over the edge. Your pussy clenched around his shaft as the orgasm dawned throughout your entire body. Biting your lip wasn’t enough to stifle the cries that your revelation brought out. You were stunned on every possible level.
Even once the vibrator’s massage was over, and he had pulled out, you still felt like you were on the verge of breaking apart again. Moving was beyond your capabilities right now and you thought it would be easier to fall asleep than recover.
“Oh my God.” You gasped when upon opening your eyes, your vision filled with him. The reality of this situation was beginning to settle in, things were clearer now.
“You alright?” He asked as he moved closer to free your wrists from the restraints.
“Uh-huh, I don’t feel like I need to say Grinch, still.” You said.
“I wasn’t going to make fun of you, but you really did pick the dorkiest possible safe word.” He said, wearing a cheeky smile.
You rolled your eyes and pulled up the top of the blanket. “It suits you, then.” This earned you a laugh from him. Before you could slip into the old and familiar teasing, you stayed tapped into this vulnerability. “You’re gonna stay, right?”
He smiled as he finished removing the cuffs, then he swept in to kiss you. “Of course, I would love nothing more than to stay with you, bella.”
As his fingers caressed your cheeks, you kissed him. This led to another, then another, at a slower pace than before because you knew you didn’t need to rush. This was an affectionate yet lazy continuation of your intimacy.
It didn’t develop into anything more, he simply laid down with you. You wrapped your arms around him, the two of you sharing looks that lingered longer than what you would have classified as normal.
You didn’t need to ask him to move his limbs, he hadn’t positioned himself in a way that had brought you any discomfort. You liked the way his arms fit around your waist. You didn’t need to put any of your clothes back on, this embrace had you feeling warm enough.
He broke the silence, speaking softly and at the sound of that you didn’t feel like you needed to prepare any witty retorts. “Thank you for trusting me. This was one of the biggest gambles of my life, and I feel lucky that you were willing to go along with it.”
“I’m glad I could maintain my unbroken streak of always going along with your ideas.” You said, able to see the smile he wore even in the limited lighting. “You mean the world to me, I’m always gonna trust you.”
Maybe more could have been said - there wasn’t a finite amount of emotions to be told. But the silence didn’t bother you. You didn’t feel obligated to speak: to win him over or otherwise make this moment. You were so content, running your fingers through his hair until sleep arrived.
*** *** ***
You began hearing a consistent tinkling, fun and non-abrasive, but persistent enough to keep you from falling asleep again. You didn’t open your eyes, trying to determine the source without seeing it. You were floating in the daze of not yet awake, the world covered by a kind of fuzziness. You rolled onto your side, yet to realise that Damiano was missing from your bed.
Your thoughts were clearing up as you continued to listen to the jingling. As you readjusted the warm blanket over your bare form, you recognised this gentle, non-rhythmic music. You had heard it very recently, even though it wasn’t a regular fixture in your home.
It was the silly bell from the elf hat. You were certain of this, opening your eyes at once. You lifted your head from the pillow, too curious to resist now. You looked around, trying to gain as much information from the room as possible.
You found Damiano was sitting on the carpet and he had the novelty hat in hand, jostling the fabric so that the bell would dance in the air. It was shaking and bobbing directly in front of your cat.
Seeing Iggy was the last thing you needed to drag yourself fully out of sleep. You hadn’t expected to see this, but he looked completely at ease. In the two years that you had owned him, he had never played with anyone but you. In all of his visits to your home, Damiano had only managed to briefly pet the cat, with Iggy always maintaining his strict disinterest in outsiders.
But now he was playing, seemingly totally invested. He sat so close to Damiano’s legs, those predatory eyes fixed on the silver bell. Damiano swung it close to Iggy and he picked up both of his front feet to swipe at it. The whole time, Damiano was beaming, so clearly enjoying this brand new experience.
“I don’t believe it…” You said, keeping your voice low to avoid startling your cat.
Damiano kept the hat in motion as he looked at you. “Crazy, huh? I guess he finally decided that I’m not his enemy. I didn’t even need to use any catnip to bribe him into this.”
“It’s a legitimate Christmas miracle.” You said. Reflecting back on how Iggy had shunned the attention of all of your past partners, this didn’t seem like an exaggeration to say.
“I know, right?” He said. “He was sitting there looking at it on the ground when I woke up. And I thought he would run away as soon as I got out of bed.” His words were accompanied by the music of the bell, which you were coming to enjoy more. “But…”
His face fell when Iggy began to walk away, unhurriedly going to the opened door. “Oh, now he’s leaving.” Iggy didn’t look back, disappearing without a sound. “He’s done with me, I guess.”
“Bye, sweetie.” You called after your pet.
“Damn, I miss him already.” He said sadly.
You couldn’t stop smiling. “He hates everyone.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m better than those other nobodies. That’s just how it is.”
You giggled. “You’re still naked.”
He got up on his knees, walking his way toward the bed in this fashion. “So are you. We’re just hanging out, naked.”
“I like it.” You said, sitting up higher as he got closer to you.
“Yeah, me too.” He said.
He reached the side of the bed, just slightly beneath eye-level. He leaned in, his eyes going to your lips as you put your hands on either side of his face. You kissed him, slowly, enjoying this indulgence just as you had last night.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, keeping his face close to yours.
“I’m good.”
“Yeah? You haven’t got any sore spots that I need to kiss better?” He asked.
You pushed one of your hands up the nape of his neck, into his hair. “Nuh-uh, no spore spots, no regrets.”
“That’s fantastic, babe.” He said before moving in for more kisses.
You managed to drag your tongue along the line where his lips met, before he eased back. You were left with building cravings.
“I’ve been awake for a little while, and I’ve had time to check Santa’s sack. It appears that there’s still something in there for you, one more thing.” He said.
“Oh, but it’s too early to be calling me a naughty girl. At least, I think it’s too early.” You realised that you hadn’t seen any form of clock, or even glanced at the window.
“This isn’t something for a naughty girl.” He said. “This is a gift.”
“Well in that case: gimme!” You said enthusiastically.
He laughed as he got up, going over to where the sack had been sitting overnight. He picked out an item that was wrapped in festive paper. You smiled, ready to love it, even with no inclination of what it might be. He handed it to you, taking a seat at the edge of the bed with you.
“I hope you like it.” He said as you started tearing away the wrapping.
“I have no doubt that it’s going to be amazing.”
Beneath the paper, you found a sleeve of protective bubble wrap. In here was your gift, a rectangular photo frame. You recognised the series of small photos from a photo booth at the cinema you usually visited. The five photos showed you and Damiano, side-by-side, making various faces for the different photos. You hadn’t seen these photos for two years, you had no idea he still had them.
“Oh wow, this is from forever ago.” You said, seeing how happy the two of you appeared.
“Yeah, do you remember this? It’s from when you dragged me to that midnight screening.” He said.
You rolled your eyes, unimpressed by how he was attempting to rewrite history. “I just said that I wondered what those were like, how the vibes were. And you said you would try it with me for Endgame’s premiere. There was no dragging involved.” You jabbed your pointer finger into the air before he had a chance to cut you off. “And it definitely wasn’t my fault that you fell asleep less than halfway through the movie.”
“I had been touring for months. It’s a miracle that I didn’t fall asleep while we were taking these photos.” He said. “I thought you might like to have these, like a time capsule of us being nerdy together.”
“I love it. I’m gonna put it somewhere that I’ll see it every day.” You said. “Just looking at it, it’s like I can feel how much fun we had that night… before you fell asleep.”
He eased your unruly hair back from your face. “You are really cute when you’re telling me that I’m wrong, did you know that?”
There was the beginning of a blush in your cheeks as you looked at him. “I know now.”
With a smile, you closed the distance between your bodies with a kiss. His arm slipped around you. You didn’t feel like you had sacrificed any of the significance of the friendship showcased in these old photos. Nothing needed to be lost on the path to this new level.
“If you check under my tree, you’ll find there’s a gift for you there.” You told him.
He grinned. “Really? You always get me the best gifts.”
“Why don’t you go get it?” You asked.
“I was thinking that I would open it later.” He said. “Like when I’m opening other presents with my family. And maybe you could be there too?”
“You want me to spend Christmas with your family?” You asked, thoroughly surprised.
“Don’t you think that would be better than spending the day alone? There’s no racist or otherwise weird uncles to ruin the vibe. My dad is a really great cook. And I’ll drive. And I don’t have to introduce you as anything more than my best friend if it feels too early for that.” He said.
Your heart had started fluttering as you listened to him. Now you picked up one of his hands, squeezing it as you found another of his appealing ideas to go along with. “What time do we need to leave?”
»»————- ♡ ————-««  
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Text
breakdown of Mormon mythology:
Everyone who has ever lived or will ever live began as the literal spirit children of heavenly parents - God the Father ("Heavenly Father" in Mormon parlance) and his wife or wives. The essential "intelligence" of these spirits, like matter, is uncreated and eternal, but the spirits are created by marital union between the heavenly parents. These spirit children were happy, but in order to advance to the next level of power and start families of their own, they had to pass through a probationary period in order to receive physical bodies.
In order to do this, a meeting was called in Heaven in order to plan out the world we currently live in. Two plans were presented for this new world, one by the pre-mortal Jesus, then known as Jehovah, the eldest of Heavenly Father's spirit children, and his brother, Lucifer. Lucifer suggested taking away humanity's freedom of choice and making himself the savior of this new world. Jesus suggested giving humanity "agency" (a major term in the Mormon lexicon), as on other worlds. The ensuing conflict caused a war to break out in Heaven, in which Lucifer convinced 1/3rd of the spirits destined for Earth to join him. Thus Lucifer became the devil, and his followers the demons, forever denied bodies of flesh and bone. Heavenly Father, alias Elohim, then created the world with the assistance of Jehovah and the archangel Michael, the pre-mortal Adam. Adam and Eve started the human race, as most of you know, and everyone who has ever lived since then was someone who made the choice to come to earth to receive a physical body and hopefully return to Heavenly Father, achieve the highest level of power, and eventually start their own universe after this probationary period. Mormons are a bit cagey about this, but Mormonism is a polytheistic religion - there are thousands, millions, maybe even billions of gods out there. Gods in Mormon mythology are sort of like dads. Dads are everywhere, you may eventually become a dad yourself, but you only have one. The cycle will continue forever. Mormons believe that Jesus was the first-born of God's spirit children, but also have their own gross take on the virgin birth. They believe God literally traveled to Earth and physically impregnated Mary; hence Jesus is referred to as "first begotten in the spirit and only begotten in the flesh." Mormon theology says that Jesus atoned for humanity's sins, not only on the cross, but in the garden of Gethsemane. After his death and resurrection, Jesus traveled to the Americas to preach to the American Indians, who Mormons believe are actually the descendants of ancient Israelites, and established his church in the Americas as he did in Palestine. Eventually all of the righteous, white Nephites were exterminated by the dark-skinned Lamanites, but not before they recorded their history on gold plates that were buried by the last living Nephite, Moroni, in what is today upstate New York. Many years later, Moroni, as an angel, visited the young prophet Joseph Smith and revealed the location of these plates, which would eventually become the Book of Mormon. And that's why we're here today. If any current or former Latter-day Saints, or anyone who simply knows more about this than me has any comments or corrections, I'd like to hear them. This is practice for me writing my book about Mormonism.
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goongiveusnothing · 21 days
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The fact that his stans fight everyone on Twitter to say how he is the best because he always is on top of the charts, is awarded the Grammys and every award out there. His music is the most streamed and still say in the same breath that he pretends to date women who are still trying to make it in the entertainment industry. Doesn’t that make him an abuser who is exerting his influence by using his fame to pretend to have a relationship with them. Isn’t it gross that the level of fame and fortune he has achieved is not enough for him and his greed to remain at the top is based on false narratives according to his fans?
So according to them his management is racially profiling women and to make him seem like he is trendy finding up and coming women of colour to date. So he is cheating his fans to believe that he dates women of colour to uplift his image.
This is according to his own fans, it’s not even people who don’t like him.
So the way I see it if his fans are correct then he is a racist scumbag who is using women of colour to build up his image and if he has a new girlfriend every few weeks/months because he can’t keep it in his pants he is a womaniser who has no respect for women.
Either way, it explains why his friends, family and acquaintances are all greedy assholes who have no issues in commodifying and selling something like kindness at 150 dollars a piece.
they can't work out if his life is real and reflects who he is (bad) or if it's fake and doesn't reflect who he is (which makes him even worse).
instead he's just a boring fuckboy who loves to seize on women he thinks are useful to his career and appearances and who also privately adore him in a way he needs. then he needs to move on because he needs constant new sex partners, hence the threesome with emrata and why he can't keep a girl and keeps cheating on them.
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sloppysequinz · 4 months
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Dear Intox Mommy,
I will be taking a long plane trip (4-5 hours) soon, but I find flying to be tedious and am determined to not do it sober. But I have not been able to decide on the method of my intoxication , so I am hoping you can help me choose.
My choice is between being drunk, or being high on THC in edible form. For alcohol, the pros are that I’ve flown drunk before and enjoyed it, and I can accurately calibrate my booze intake to achieve a desired level of inebriation. Plus I hold my liquor well, so I can be pretty drunk and not attract attention. On the downside, flying drunk often leads to dehydration and a hangover. Also, my flight is in the morning and it seems a bit weird to be hammered before breakfast.
For weed, the upside is that edibles don’t smell, so the chance of detection is even lower. Plus when I get high from edibles it’s an all-day high, so there’s no risk of sobering up on the flight, unlike alcohol. The negative here is that it’s an all-day high and I want to do some touristy stuff, and being stoned could make things tricky trying to navigate (no driving involved) an unfamiliar city.
What would you do in my shoes?
Sincerely yours,
Senselessly Sober in Suburbia
Dear Sober,
I can certainly see your dilemma. Both of your options are achievable, desirable, and have their benefits. However, both have drawbacks.
To answer your question about time of day, there is no time in an airport. All rules are fake there. Therefore, there is no time of day during which it is wrong to be high/drunk. I will be answering with that in mind.
My key factor in answering this question, I am thinking of how I would feel post-flight. You mention that you will still be high when you're doing your post-flight touristy things, but you also mention the post-flight hangover from alcohol. Personally, I would rather be a little high while exploring a new place than hungover. When high, I often feel joyful and open minded, and when hungover I feel gross and unhappy. I think alcohol would be more of a post-flight problem than you realize.
Furthermore, dear reader, you say that you have experience flying drunk and have the process locked in. This high level of control could be desirable in a new place, but given that you're coming to me, I think it's likely you are interested in trying new ways of getting fucked up. I think you should seek a new experience and try flying on THC. The thrill of a new experience, what better way to start a trip.
In closing, my dear: proceed with the weed. Enjoy dialing in a new intoxicant and let it bolster your new experiences. And do tell me how it all goes.
Yours in flight,
Intox Mommy
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twistedtalking · 1 year
Note
Ello!
Since I get no requests, and this is an interactive-heavy blog, I have come to request something for myself again.
So, how about:
Confessing to the dormleaders (canon)
"I've liked you for a very long time! Please go out with me!"
tw: slight ooc
Riddle
Go out with you? Surely you are aware of the school guidelines?!
Student handbook page 253, paragraph 2, line 27; "One shall not partake in an immoral relationship whilst on school grounds". Furthermore, is it not common sense that one should spend their school days gaining knowledge, instead of fooling around?
(It's Riddle. What did you expect)
Leona
No. *Goes back to sleep*
(At least he's direct?)
Azul
What??
.
.
...Oh!
Ahem. So, you have a crush on me?
gross
How interesting~ Won't you sign this contract for me, darling?~ It'll make me really happy if you do~
i want to throw up.
(No! Compose yourself, Azul! For the free labor!)
Don't take too long reading the contract, okay? You wouldn't want to keep me waiting, right? And, who knows, if you sign it now, I might give you a reward~
(Grossed out, but free labor is free labor!)
Kalim
Yeah sure! So where we going? Can I invite some people too? Hey guys, drinks is on Prefect!
(Jamil: that's not what-
Never mind.)
.
.
...OH!
So that's what it means. Thanks for explaining it to me, Jamil! Sorry I misunderstood you, prefect.
.
.
Everyone, the  Drinks are on me! Cause The prefect's too poor to buy that many drinks. (Breaking news: Innocent sunshine boi misunderstands something for the 5th time this hour)
Vil
Really, potato? I'm an actor. I have a reputation to uphold. Along with that, I'm also the dormleader of pomefiore, and a model as well. I don't have time for dating. I'd rather use my free time on improving myself so I could unleash my full potential.
Idia
Online: eww. Gross. Wtf. 2d is already perfect.3d is way too much work. Dating games are ok, but irl dating? **
(Achievment unlocked: Idia route forever locked)
IRL: !!! Fudge. ...u sure? Me? Hey, Why pull for someone like me?? I'm the most boring character here! I put none of my points on charisma! Why not that extrovert, Diamond-shi instead? Or puppy dog Kalim? Wouldn't they be better options?
Idia used convince. It was not effective.
Back up! Ortho, call for back up! I accidentally unlocked another route I didn't want to play! (Why do I keep getting confession scenes when my charisma level is below zero?! And with a character I'm not even interested to play? How is my luck so good yet so bad?)
It's like that ghost bride event all over again. Crazy lady who needs to get her eyes checked. Ortho, search for fastest way to reject someone. (Achievment unlocked: Death by heart attack)
Malleus
you are precious to me as well, child of man. So, where are we off to? Will we go gargoyle watching, as usual?
(Been friendzoned by confused dargon)
Matthew 11:28
“Come to me, all  you who are  weary and  burdened, and I will give you rest."
-Jesus
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thoughtlessarse · 4 months
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In 2022, the first year of sharp rate hikes to curb rising inflation, the countries of the Global South paid almost $50 billion more in debt than they received in new financing, according to data from the UN’s trade and development arm Crises, like successes, are seen through different eyes depending on who the passive subject is. And this is one of those silent shocks, a blind spot in the wide angle of the world economy. Far from the headlines, rising interest rates are taking their toll on emerging and developing countries: the Global South paid more on its debt last year in principal and interest repayments than it received in development aid and new loans. Inflows to this group of nations fell to their lowest level since the global financial crisis, according to figures from the NGO ONE Campaign. A warning sign that should give the Federal Reserve and the European Central Bank (ECB) pause for thought. In 2022, the first year of sharp rate hikes to curb rising inflation, the countries of the Global South paid almost $50 billion more in debt than they received in new financing, according to data from the UN’s trade and development arm (UNCTAD). At the same time, official development assistance (ODA) fell for the second consecutive year and remained well below the target of 0.7% of gross national income (GNI). This target dates to the 1970s and, more than 50 years later, it has still not been met. “We are witnessing a worrying trend: financial flows are flowing out of the developing countries that need them most and towards their creditors,” summarizes the head of UNCTAD, Rebeca Grynspan, in statements to EL PAÍS. “These are nations that need external resources to complement their internal efforts and, without a positive trend in external financing, their capacity for growth is severely limited.” The fiscal constraints imposed by this situation, she adds, make it almost impossible to achieve Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs): “Addressing the overlapping crises, such as the climate emergency, will be an unattainable challenge if these trends are not reversed.”
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A few stories about the Tangerine Tyrant caught my eye today, and they all point to his increasing desperation - so I figured I’d go around the horn and celebrate his continuing dissipation.
First: Criminal Defendant and Adjudicated Rapist Donald Trump yesterday predicted a “bloodbath” if he didn’t get reelected, and the media quickly devolved into outlets condemning his use of violent rhetoric and others - Fox and Newsmax - concern trolling over how he was talking specifically about the automobile industry. So, whatever. If you’re interested in parsing the event along those lines, have at it - but I think there’s a more interesting, deeply indicative phenomenon just below the surface that speaks not just to Trump’s mentality but that of his whole bonkers cult.
If you’re looking for the atavistic pull of Donald Trump on his followers, it’s in his power to do whatever the hell he wants and face no consequences. NO ONE can tell him what to do. NO ONE can keep him from attacking whomever he wants. NO ONE can prevent him from sating his desires. NO ONE.
Now, we know that’s not true - as evidenced by his exile to Mar-a-Lago for the past three years, but it’s part of the mystique. In a lot of ways, it makes sense if you look at his cult following - people who are, by and large, deeply disempowered and enraged at a culture that is stripping away their traditional privileges and social entitlements. They WANT Trump to keep shitting the punch bowl as a sort of wish fulfillment of their own stifled rage. Maybe they can’t rape the woman they want to rape or kill the immigrants they hate for speaking Spanish or Hindi at the Gas-n-Sip – but they sure as hell can dream about it when Trump gives a cross-burner of a speech. That’s all standard form.
But what we saw last night - and in the fascist outrage-trolling today - was something new. It’s been creeping into the 2024 election cycle here and there, but yesterday, it entirely broke through, and it’s this: NOT EVEN TRUMP’S BRAIN IS ALLOWED TO CENSOR TRUMP’S MOUTH WHEN IT COMES TO RAGE AND ANGER.
Look, Trump KNOWS that using words like “bloodbath” is going to cost him non-MAGA voters. He knows that calling people “vermin” is going to hurt his chances of navigating the very narrow path ahead if he hopes to return to the White House. Yet, he can’t stop himself. Trump is unable to act in his own easily achieved best interest if it means not being a monster, and while it’s lamentable that he’s bringing such hatred to our national debate, I encourage him to keep it up.
You be you, Donald!
Every single time you let your id out of its box, it’s like sending America an unsolicited, mushroom-shaped dick-pic. Sure, your fans are going to love it, but the rest of us grossed the fuck out.
So, please! Rage on!
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Second:
Trump’s lawyers in the NYS civil fraud case settlement submitted a filing today that it is “a practical impossibility” for Trump to post a bond for the half-billion dollars he needs to cough up in order to appeal the decision. According to reports, he approached 30 different surety companies, and they all turned him down. Why they would do that might indicate what’s got him tuned to “bloodbath” and “vermin” levels of rage.
It might be a simple point, but it bears a paragraph of explanation.
Most folks who don’t work in the NYC real estate market – or any real estate market – might think, “Hey, he’s a rich guy. Why not just sell a few of those buildings he owns? They’ve gotta be worth a pretty penny.”
Or, alternatively, “Why won’t anyone take Trump Tower as collateral for a loan?”
The simple answer is he doesn’t really OWN any of that shit outright. It’s ALL mortgaged to the hilt. To get a clearer picture of this, let’s look at 40 Wall Street – one of Trump’s “prestige” properties.
The numbers are a bit hard to come by, but an hour of reading suggests that the building is presently worth about $200 million. Mind you, part of the fraud charges – now proven – included his valuation of the building in 2015 at over $750 million, but it’s just not worth that at all.
So, take the $200 million as a starting point and note that Trump’s mortgage on the property, according to a Bloomberg report in November of 2023, stands at $122 million. So, if Trump were to liquidate his stake in the property fully, he’d only net about $78 million – and that is BEFORE the capital gains taxes, NYS taxes, and NYC taxes on the sale. According to a few articles I’ve scanned this evening, that would be up to about 40% of his earnings. That means, even if he drops one of his most precious assets, he would only raise about $50 million.
He owes TEN TIMES that number by next week.
Play that out another round, and realize that if Trump tried to sell ten or twenty office buildings in NYC all at once, the price of ALL of them would plummet to fire-sale prices.
He’s fucked. Moreover, he knows it and is desperate to find a way out.
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This brings us to news item number three: The Return of Paul Manafort.
News leaked today that Trump is considering bringing convicted felon and former campaign manager Paul Manafort back into his 2024 bid for the White House. Manafort, primarily due to his complete lack of a moral center, would be a tremendous asset for Trump. He’s a solid political operative, but what he REALLY brings to the table is a direct line back to the Russian oligarchy and their money. That, obviously, is an enormous threat to national security, and I’ve got to hope that the intelligence services in DC and around the world will be on heightened alert for any covert – or overt – entreaties to Putin or his cronies for a loan. I’ve got to hope there are ways of making such entreaties known to the public through selective leaks if nothing else.
But that brings us back to observation number one.
Trump knows that going to Putin for help with his financial difficulties if it becomes known, would be a dagger to the heart for his chances of returning to the White House. Yet, if I’m right, he will be unable to stop himself when it comes to finding a fix for his hemorrhaging empire. His brain will tell him this is a terrible idea, but it won’t matter. NO ONE is allowed to stop Donald Trump from doing whatever the hell he wants to do – not even Donald Trump.
In 1776, James Otis, a thoughtful supporter of the Revolutionary War, noted about politics, “When the pot boils, the scum will rise.”
Trump is proving that to be true, even when there’s only one evil, arrogant, rapist bastard in the soup. He’s so screwed.
Love to you all.
Michael J. Tallon
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weebsinstash · 2 years
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Just some more ideas for sone stuff Mr Rich Douche Yandere would do to his darling/the Reader
--apparently hair elastics like ponytails can technically damage your hair, so if you use them he insists on tying your hair up with silk ribbons and other soft materials (and wants to do it himself obviously)
--doesn't let you swim in public pools or public bodies of water besides the ocean and even then that's on private property. Not only does he not want to have to share your half nude body with anyone else, but, poor people can be dirty and gross to the point of being another species in his eyes. And not to enable him but have you ever read those stories of people who don't bathe before going into pools because they believe the chlorine is like a shower? 🤢
--really, activities that require you touching other people or sharing things with other people just strike him as unsanitary and "you're too good for them anyways". He kind of thinks all poor people in general are trashy and you're just an exception, perfect to him in almost every way. No buffets, no public gyms, no bowling, no clubbing, no strip mall beauty salons/spas that might have dirty equipment, no sports events not in a private box, like, the list goes on and on
--pressures you into having "real hobbies" aka things he approves of, likes himself, and/or can do with you, but are usually like, rich people bullshit: painting, golfing, teaching you to play a classical instrument, archery, horseback riding
--dresses you in only the best, kind of excessively. Once you enter a serious relationship with him, he'll make you forget what jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers even are. Absolutely buys you new clothes to throw out and replace anything you owned before him.
--you know how some yanderes will go as far as to collect tissues, they're so obsessed with anything you've touched or owned? Not his ass! If it isn't super sentimental to you or something you use often, he slowly replaces everything you own with things he's bought for you. Only the best for his baby 🥰 and also no traces of your past can be allowed to remain. He's all you need now right? so let's get rid of all those things given to you by people who came before him. You don't need those useless old memories...
--none of your friends are good enough for him and he'll heavily discourage you from spending time with them, even outright bribing them/threatening them into avoiding you.
--wants to get married and tie you down basically right away, but he's calculated enough to at least kind of wait and make you love him first. If he's a noble, he'll pull strings for another noble to adopt you or something to "legitimize your status", and if he's a king or emperor he may just ignore the laws to let you be directly at his side and not a mere concubine. Who's gonna stop him? He's literally the man in charge
--i like to imagine at some point in the relationship you're living with him in one of his homes and he's in his office with his multiple computer monitors that he uses for work, and he's just sitting there watching you through security cameras to see you in your private moments, simply craving and consuming every last detail about you no matter how personal
--when he's away, you're assigned private security because he's wealthy/important enough that you could be kidnapped. He definitely overplays the possibility of danger when you bring up doing anything that loosens his control and surveillance, though. He'll tell you it's only because he treasures you much and has to keep you safe
--all im saying is that he's "leader of a country" level rich and money can achieve anything. That ex-boyfriend you bumped into on a date with him? Missing without a trace, the cops don't even investigate. Relationship go south and you run away? A black van rolls up while you're on the sidewalk and you get taken right back by men in black suits who are being paid way too much to mind if you bite and scream. You start cracking under the pressure if all his expectations and say you'll leave him? Threaten to hurt yourself? Hippity hoppity your body is his property, and he's sending you to a private clinic where they'll force meds into you and monitor you while he finishes his business affairs and sets up a nice little "vacation home" for you both to "take time off" and for you to "clear your head". He's thinking an island, something nice and remote....
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beingharsh · 1 year
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Mainstream feminist ideas needed to appeal to people whose interests were in direct conflict with each other and as it turns out, privilege theory is pretty appealing to the most privileged. It allows them to work through their guilt via charitable donations, personal reflection, and empathy with the oppressed... But oppression doesn't exist because some people are rude, so making them act more polite will only get us a fraction of the way there. Misogyny will not end if we stop calling periods gross, classism will not end if we stop thinking poor people are dirty. If anything, this line of thinking can make the oppressive structures in society more adaptable, more sustainable. It's like we positioned the guillotine wrong and instead of beheading the king, we gave him a nice new haircut. And now he's relatable to the Common Man and we can't remember why we were mad at him in the first place. I say all this because on that surface level where oppression is contained in occasional rudeness, we've won. Pop feminism achieved so much of what it set out to do in the 2010s. Many microaggressions are way less socially acceptable now. Like, it's been years since anyone asked me if I've had the surgery; Kristen Bell is bisexual on TV; RuPaul is bigger than Jesus; pronouns and email signatures are in, gendered language is out; with 'manned flights' giving way to 'crewed flights' and so on. Feminists advocated for these things and they happened. We've changed the culture by any measure conceivable. And yet, things are the worst they've been in my entire life, and they don't seem to be getting better.
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thenixkat · 6 days
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also the protag of Kaiju no. 8's name is Kafka which is extremely on the nose
ok i'm watching the first ep
so human civilizations have been fighting kaiju since the 14th century at least. And their really advanced tech is made from kaiju bits another neat design. just a big fat lizard from the sea. Nice coloring and girth
yeah def cleaning up the dead giant monsters would certainly be an important industry we're just like a min in but I can see why folks would be interested in a series that's just about post-kaiju battle cleanup. like that's very interesting
Mc to injured coworker: Don't forget to file a claim for worker's comp
also Kafka is 32 yrs old i'm with Kafka how the fuck does management expect that to get cleaned up by the end of the week? that is a dead animal the size of a city block with its guts splattered across another city block, that shit should take no less than a month to clean
clean yer fucking room
you could have who knows what growing in those beer cans
listen i dont have a foot to stand on about dishes but like, dont put trash in the sink damnit
local 32 year old doesnt like his job and feels like he failed to achieve his dreams
edgy teenager that just joined the clean-up crew and assigned to Kafka to teach him the ropes damn near calls Kafka a loser for giving up on making it into the kaiju fighting forces like damn kid i feel like, as someone who basically shovels shit for a living you get used to gross work. Like, I don't enjoy scraping up bloody dog diarrhea and it smells god awful but I'm not about to be gagging or not able to eat my lunch cause of it. And i've only been shoveling shit for 3 yrs. Man been in monster clean up for how long and still gagging after chainsawing giant intestines really? yeah actually the monster clean-up stuff is neat. I could see a slice-of-life story of a monster cleanup crew just as a whole series
local teen a bit more grateful after making it through a whole day of cleaning shit. Is a lot nicer still calls his ass a quitter damn mfers just having a conversation at the end of the day at their workplace and a kaiju shows up to try and eat a bitch out of nowhere
people with anxiety must have shit bad in this world local 32 yr old impresses teen by saving his fucking life
and being level headed in situation and distracting the monster while telling the kid to get to safety and call the fucking authorities imagine living in a world where natural disasters have teeth and the ability to chase you with intent to devour man oh hey jumping through a glass window causes injuries local teenager comes back to help and does save the mc from getting ate but like, child, uh, you are both bite sized to that spider thing
sir you have broken bones and lacerations and very much bleeding. Pls stay down.
I know the tiger thing is probably supposed to be cool but like… dont keep tigers as pets. or use them as attack animals at yer work place that could go south really fast pls there's bound to be injured civilians
local teenager trying to be nonchalant in saying thanks and that the old dude was kinda cool and made good calls just a bug here
staring at this man while he's having a moment with his new friend the bug (psychically to Kafka): Found You
does that… get elaborated on? I feel like that's something that should get elaborated on
also here's a theory: bug's been searching for Kafka, I have to assume he's not been as injured and bleeding everywhere to the extent that he did today and it followed the scent of his blood to him. Like I have to assume it was looking for him for a reason and that he's compatible with being turned into a kaiju and keeping his original mind and personality intact for a reason as well it forced itself down his throat
that's a thing
and now everyone is freaking out
fucking buff Donnie Darko is still a letdown compared to the literal dragonfly ok that was funny. but uh forced to deepthroat a bug kaiju at least the size of a macaw and length of a small python
outside of the thrashing and gagging as it whent down and he transformed, dude took it rather well. Didnt even throw up this lady really just owns a tiger that lives in her apartment outside of fighting monsters for work. That is not good tiger keeping
just cause yer a bad ass monster slayer doesnt mean you should have a pet tiger who lives in yer appartment when yer off work that you just let walk around unrestrained. That's bad for the tiger, its bad for you, and its bad for bystanders
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zephyrspace · 2 years
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Doc SSR - Work Uniform + Vignette “Ambitions..?”
medic!au, gn!reader
summary : congrats, after using up all your pulls and level up materials, you finally got the new medic ssr! i wonder what kind of voicelines they have?
a/n : ive been obsessed with just listening to everyone’s voicelines lately so i just pulled this out of my ass and thought that everyone would enjoy some more medic content-
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summon : “sigh, what are you in for this time? c’mon in, let me have a look at you.”
groovy : “it stings? hang in there, i’ll make this quick, i promise.”
set to home screen : “let’s get to work!”
home transition 1 : “the tri-yearly check-ups are fast approaching again… even if you’re not part of the seven dorms, i’ll make sure to get your portfolio made up and arrange a time for your appointment soon.”
home transition 2 : “make sure to tell that cat-rat of yours that if he attempts to go through my cupboards for food again, then i’ll skin him and hang his fur on my wall like a trophy.”
home transition 3 : “remind me to re-supply diasomnia with digestion pills soon. poor cretins, lilia needs to hold back on his cooking…”
home, after login : “good morning/afternoon/evening, i’ll be at my desk if you need anything.”
tap home 1 : “everyone seems to refer to me as ‘doc’ or ‘medic’… it makes me wonder if even half the school population knows my actual name.”
tap home 2 : “my octa-trio senses are tingling again... try to steer clear of their vision for today.”
tap home 3 : “i’m open to any volunteers in helping me with my experi- ahem, helping me in the clinic.”
tap home 4 : “want a lollipop? i’ve got plenty, here.”
tap home 5 : “if that adeuce combo ever bothers you too much, tell me so i can prescribe them gross medicine next time they get into trouble.”
tap home 10 : “could you stop doing that? it takes so long to iron this thing (uniform).”
battle start : “who do you think you are?”
battle won : “sigh, let’s get you to the clinic.”
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vignette - ambitions..?
summary : prefect manages to catch doc off guard! but why do they look so… conflicted?
tags : angsty, very very short
“doc, if you weren’t a medic, what would you be? do you have any other ambitions?”
yuu didn’t mean any harm in the question at all, he just wanted to fill in the silence of the clinic while doc took notes down.
the medic stops writing completely, the grip on their clipboard and pen stiffen. “ambitions..?” an ambition, a strong desire to do or achieve something. to be something.
“yeah! what would you be doing if you weren’t working here?”
“…”
“doc?” yuu doesn’t know what’s wrong, but the atmosphere in the room changes. it’s silent for too long.
“…i’d love to be a student here,” a melancholic smile. it doesn’t reach their eyes.
“huh?” the prefect definitely did not expect such a reaction from them nor expect such an answer, perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything at all.
“i envy you, yuu. like a lot. you’re otherworldly, yet, you get to live as an ordinary student,” doc starts listing things off, as if they actually thought about this before.
“live in your own dorm, make your own friends. you get into trouble, roughhouse with each other. eat with each other. late nights spent just talking.”
yuu stares. doc has this look swirling in their eyes that yuu doesn’t even want to decipher. he wants to run away.
“although you’re far from home, cherish this time spent here, okay?
yuu leaves the clinic, he hopes he doesn’t have to look at doc’s eyes for a while, lest he gets devoured.
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