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#it can be though but i didn't made it thinking explicitly that way
pocketwei · 6 months
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catching fire (who by fire)
sketch for @/TheBlindMartyr (twitter) who won the giveaway organised by @opdoffyzine! Prompt was "Doffy and Cora BOTH catching on fire? (I'm convinced the first time Cora caught ablaze didn't end well.)"
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ambrosiagourmet · 3 months
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I love Izutsumi. She's got a great design, she's a fun addition to the main party, she adds some new tension, and she's honestly one of the reasons I read dungeon meshi in the first place. I mean, "the most cat to ever girl" is an extremely appealing hook to anyone who loves cats and girls (me, I love cats and girls).
However, while I have always liked Izutsumi, I finished the story kind of feeling like I didn't really get her. I felt like I had a decent grasp on her character an character arc (she's a traumatized teen given space to feel safe and open up, and because of that she realizes that she can't grow without letting go of the coping mechanisms she once needed). But I didn't feel like I really understood her role in the story as a whole.
She follows the group of her own accord, after a coincidental meeting and a misunderstanding of what they can do for her. She's never super invested in saving Falin, at least not compared to the rest of the group. Though they do help her escape Maizuru's shackles, and are clearly good for her in general, she doesn't really have a healing Moment with the group the way that Senshi does with the hippogriff soup.
And yet, she gets an entire chapter, the third-to-last chapter, dedicated to exploring her growth and future. She's the one who frames much of the falling action, who lets us check in with everyone. She's the one who helps talk Laios into accepting his role as king. She may join the story part way through, but she is there for most of it. So Izutsumi! What's your deal!?
Well, I think I've come up with an answer, at least for myself, that I really like. Two of them, even! Though they both really work together to form the overall point - Izutsumi is the character that most helps the story face towards the future. Here's why I think that.
So the first of these "ah-ha" moments was when I realized that Izutsumi really is the best supporting evidence for Laios' point about the good things that wouldn't have happened if Falin hadn't died.
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If Falin hadn't been eaten by the dragon, Izutsumi probably would still be a slave. It was because of Shuro and Laios' parties both being in the dungeon to rescue Falin, as well as Marcille's use of ancient magic in the resurrection, that she got the chance to escape. None of that would have been the case if Falin hadn't died. Shuro wouldn't have separated from the group and joined up with his retainers, Marcille wouldn't have revealed her knowledge of ancient magic, and Izutsumi never would have even met any of them. They are only part of her life because of Falin's death.
Though this isn't explicitly pointed out by Laios or Izutsumi in the scene, I do think you can very much feel the presence of it. For one, when Marcille reflects on the journey and how much it made her realize she didn't want to lose everyone, her relationship with Izutsumi is prominent:
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It's the main original group at the top and center, but when you read it right to left, it’s Izutsumi and Marcille who might catch your eye first. And it's specifically Marcille and Izutsumi's relationship on display here, not just Izutsumi's presence in the group in general.
Also, after Laios' statement about how none of their adventure would have happened without Falin dying, it is Izutsumi who gets the final word:
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Izutsumi is also the one here who is the most forward-facing. Chilchuck is trying to correct Laios, Senshi is focused on the immediate future, and Izutsumi is talking about her new goal.
And I want to talk about that goal in general as well, because it’s also interesting how it comes up. In that moment, everyone is trying to remind Marcille of her less destructive desires - to eat food, to share it with them, and to meet Chilchuck's family. All of which are previously established, existing desires. When prompted by Chilchuck to join in, however, Izutsumi offers something new:
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That's interesting, isn't it? It's kind of funny, of course, to see her rambling on about a completely new thing, her own personal motive, in the middle of everyone working together to reach out to Marcille. Izutsumi doesn't even know who Yaad is! But at the same time, it’s kind of meaningful. Amidst the focus on desires that everyone already had, she adds a completely new one to the mix. It’s even the final bridge that lets Laios reach Marcille.
It is, in fact, even an idea that comes back later to help out another lord of the dungeon. The idea of finding new goals and feeling new desires... this is exactly how Kabru reaches out to Mithrun, after the Winged Lion is gone
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So yeah, Izutsumi's presence here, both in what she's actively choosing to say as well as what she represents of the consequences of Falin's death, supports the story's ideas of moving forward. Of accepting the past, and finding new reasons to live.
Which is all really good, and that alone works pretty well as an answer to what Izutsumi's role in the story is.
But oh, oh. There's more. Something I realized after having thought of all this, because I still couldn't let go of the feeling that there was still something I was missing.
And as I reviewed the things I loved about Izutsumi - her sometimes unhealthy ways of coping with trauma, her struggles with isolation, her skill with fighting, her selfishness contrasted with the ways she grows to care for and protect the group, her perpetually guarded nature, born from the seeming impossibility of ever fitting in or finding a safe place to just be herself - I realized something.
Izutsumi...
is a foil to Falin.
Where Falin copes with isolation and trauma by being eternally caring and struggling to say no to people, Izutsumi copes by constantly saying no to everything she can. Falin is often considered selfless, but does have selfish desires that she can’t easily express until a moment of crisis. Izutsumi is delightfully selfish, but chooses to stick by her friends when they need her. They are both transformed, against their will, into partly monstrous hybrids, and they both will have to live with that - there is no undoing what has been done to them.
Falin anchors the group in the past. Izutsumi pulls them towards the future. Neither would find freedom without the other - it is Falin's death that leads to Izutsumi joining the party, and likewise, it is Izutsumi who inspires the realization of how they can save Falin.
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And Falin is her future, as much as Izutsumi is Falin's. Both learn to be a little more like each other, even though they never meet. Falin gets a little more selfish. Izutsumi gets a little more willing to bend.
In this context, I feel like I have finally started to understand just how important Izutsumi is to the story. She is a proof that they cannot just go back, and she is a clawed, happy-to-scratch-anyone-who-pisses-her-off reminder, at that. In any conversation about what the group wishes would have happened with Falin, she cannot be ignored or brushed aside.
She is a reminder that, even in the midst of a tragedy so big it feels like a shadow you will never escape, you have yet to met all the people you will love. Hell, some of those people might even be catgirls. We should all be so lucky.
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youraverageaemondsimp · 5 months
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Taste of depravity. // DARK!Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon (Cole)!Reader (Criston's daughter.)
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MDNI, reader discretion is advised.
Summary: Aemond knows he shouldn't want you, especially after finding out you that were Criston's daughter, who was his father figure his entire life, yet he can't help himself but to crave the sweet taste of sinfulness.
A/N: y'all he's dark but not the usual dark, he's just psychotic(?) Idk. No noncon, but he's extremely obsessive towards her, and criston is stressed tf out. // divider credit: @cafekitsune
WARNINGS: dark!aemond, p in v sex, unprotected sex, biting, breeding kink, humiliation, dacryphilia, overstimulation, fingering, virginity loss, tiddy sucking, oral (f. receiving), face sitting, manhandling, profanity, reader is a bastard, aemond insults reader for being a bastard, he gets off of her suffering, he's insane, stressed dad criston, traumatic encounters by criston, dilemma, angst(?), fluff, reader is described to resemble criston so she has dark hair and eyes but no color is explicitly stated, + not proofread.
WC: 7k
Criston walked through the hallways of the red keep, armour clinking against each other as he walked towards a person's chamber who he swore to never involve himself with again.
Rhaenyra.
It wasn't the sudden love for her that made him do this, no, in fact he never even loved her, he had only realised after whatever happened on the ship with her.
It was guilt.
Guilt that he had stained his white cloak, guilt that he wasn't able to refuse, because the power imbalance between them was way too high, he couldn't risk it, burning all his efforts just because of refusing a princess.
He couldn't say no.
He was disgusted with himself afterwards.
He tried to pretend it was love to no avail, convincing himself that Rhaenyra didn't just use him for sexual pleasure, that he wasn't just an object or someone to discard, he believed that she loved him.
But none of that was true.
The events that followed along were obvious, she was married off to Laenor, and recently returned to the keep, pregnant with her fourth child.
It was only then Criston noticed the eldest child.
You.
He tried to think you were the same as Jacaerys and Lucerys, a rumoured bastard born to Ser Harwin Strong, Anyone can easily mistake you for his child itself, but not Criston.
The timing did not add up.
And neither did your features resemble Harwin Strong's.
Dark hair and dark eyes.
Features of him.
There was only one answer, and he wanted to be sure himself.
Which is what led him to visit Rhaenyra, something he would've never done in a thousand years to come.
He sighed heavily, knocking on the door, the guard allotted to her chamber looked at him suspiciously before announcing his presence, to say Rhaenyra was shocked is an understatement, she immediately opened the door, a hand resting on her stomach.
“Ser Criston.”
“Princess.” he greets her by bowing his head.
“Princess- I must speak with you, if you'll allow it.” his tone told her everything, and she looked around, before signalling Laenor, who was in the room, to take the boys to the training yard while she let him in.
He tried not to remember the last time, of what happened when he was with her.
“What is the issue?” she asks him, not wasting anymore time.
“Might I speak plainly, princess?” he asks, face stoic, he looks at him for a moment before nodding, and he takes a deep breath.
“Is she mine?”
Silence falls in between both of them, the way she clenches her jaw doesn't go unnoticed by him, and he clenches his teeth as he swallows thickly, bracing himself for the answer.
He already knew it.
He just needed confirmation.
“Yes.”
And that was enough to send all the waves crashing down on him, he stood there, breathing heavily, it felt as though there had been even more weight placed upon him, more than before.
He looks down, and bows.
“Thank you for your honesty, princess.” He says, “Ser Criston, please do not let this get out.” she pleads to him and he thinks for a moment. “Rest assured princess, I will not speak of this to anyone, for it will sully my reputation as it will do yours.” he says sternly and turns on his feet to leave.
His walk down to the training yard was swift, he was behind his allotted time to train the young princes due to this ordeal, yet he couldn't bring himself to care, all he could think about was you.
He stopped in his tracks down the stairs when he spotted you with your younger brothers, playing around with the wooden sword, they were clearly not training since he was their main instructor, just playing around.
He noticed how you smiled brightly, pretending to stab Jace and he fell, committing to his act of being stabbed by you, “Oh no more princess! I beg your mercy.” he played pretend, which made you giggle.
Then you heard a scoff.
You turned to see who it was, only to find your uncle, Aemond, looking at you with raised eyebrows as if he was judging you.
He was.
“Girls aren't allowed to train here.” he simply says, shifting his weight onto his right leg as he relaxes his grip on the sword before holding it placed down in front of him, leaning both his hands against it.
You furrow your brows, opening your mouth to speak up and reply to him but you are immediately cut off by Criston cole.
“Don't stand too upright my prince, you'll get knocked down.” he interferes with an advice for him, and you close your mouth before giving the wooden sword to Jacaerys.
“Ser Criston, May I stay and watch?” You ask him, eyes wide and pleading.
Normally he would refuse.
Normally.
But this situation was anything but normal.
“I already told you, girls are not allowed here–”
“Yes you may, princess.” He cuts Aemond off, and Aemond rolls his eyes while you smile widely at Criston, “But for your safety, please stand far away.” He tells you and you nod, immediately standing as far as possible.
Criston sighs before beginning the training for the boys.
It has almost become a routine for you, watching them train, Criston allowed you to stay and watch, much to everyone's surprise.
You had been hanging out with the boys, using the excuse of keeping a watch over your younger brothers as an excuse, Aemond did not like this however.
This obviously meant you were spending more time with Criston, it was fun being around him, when the boys would warm up for their training he would occasionally tell you about his achievements.
He has no idea why he's doing all of that, he could just ignore you, but he couldn't bring himself to.
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It was a fine day, you were in the dragonpit with your brothers and uncles, Jace was learning new commands for his dragon, and you watched boredly, not understanding the obsession with dragons, you did not have one of your own, but you did not care.
Everything was going well, till you noticed Aemond, looking annoyed and wanting to be anywhere else but here, you obviously knew about his obsessions with wanting a dragon, it wasn't unknown.
The young prince's egg never hatched, leaving him without a dragon. You felt bad, knowing it must be tough to be the only one who has no dragon to ride, except you, but you had long given up the idea of wanting a dragon and accepted that you might not ever have one.
His public interest and the desire for always wanting a dragon so badly was what led to this moment, which altered him forever.
Aegon, Jace and Luke decided that it would be funny to mock him.
So they dressed up a pig and presented it to him, pretending it is a dragon while laughing loudly.
You did not find the situation funny at all, your brothers both laughed cruelly, along with Aegon who made the pig noises, you couldn't even bring yourself to let out an awkward chuckle, because you knew how this situation was incredibly mean.
Aemond obviously wasn't laughing, instead he stared at the pig before swallowing thickly, blinking rapidly, you remained silent, observing him. Prince Aegon left whilst mocking him, laughing along with your brothers and exiting the pit while you stayed back, and watched Aemond, who just seemed to be staring at the pig.
“Uncle? I-”
“Don't.” He cuts you off, his voice trembling, as if he was moments away from crying.
He was.
“Aemond.” You stand next to him, you watch as he shoots a glare at you, gritting his teeth.
“Are you here to rub salt on the wound?” His voice was laced with venom and hatred even though it was trembling.
“Why are you always speaking to me like that? I've never been anything but nice to you. Let me guess, you are going to assume that it was I who planned this as well?” You snap, words spilling out of your mouth before you could stop them, his eyes widened.
“I wouldn't be surprised if it was you, after all, it would be your way of getting back at me.” He shakes his head.
“I would never do that to you.” you mumble, which causes his eyebrows to raise slightly in surprise, “I know- well at least I think I do know- what it feels like to not have a dragon, mine didn't hatch either, Aemond.” you try to comfort him.
“It is just that, I simply do not care, I've accepted it.” You shrug, and he scoffs, “A true Targaryen is to have a dragon, I can understand why it wouldn't hatch for you- cause you're... plain.” He stops himself mid sentence, clearing his throat. You look down, fidgeting with your fingers as the air turns awkward, you expected Aemond to leave but he instead stays.
“I- I did not mean it that way, I simply meant that we are both different individuals, not having a dragon might not bother you, but it bothers me, it is a big deal for me, especially if even someone who is a wastrel like my brother has one.” He speaks up and you look at him, maintaining eye contact with him.
You don't know what came over you, but you suddenly grab his hands and hold them tight, “You will have a dragon one day.” you reassure him and he looks down, “You think so?” He asks and you nod, “I'm sure of it.” You smile but he doesn't return that smile.
He simply grabs your hand before turning around and leaving the dragonpit.
To say things changed between you and Aemond since that day would be an overstatement, his behaviour towards you remained the same, except this time it feels as though he is purposefully saying hurtful things, to get a reaction from you.
Is this what you get for being kind?
Yes.
But something did slightly change.
It was the way Aemond looked at you.
He might be mean, but he immediately comes to your defence when it is not him who is doing the mockery.
You learnt it when Aegon was mocking you and Aemond stepped in, defending you, same with your brothers, who would sometimes crack jokes that would be way too over the line, only to have Aemond shut them down.
You had mixed feelings about this.
It was a normal training day, you watched as Criston trained the boys, deciding to focus more on Aegon and Aemond instead of Jace and Luke, but it didn't matter since they were also learning along.
Until a certain presence had come in.
Harwin Strong.
You watched the interaction happen, the air became intense as Criston felt insulted, not wishing to take any criticism from someone from city watch.
Then they fought, Harwin threw punches at Cristons face until he was stopped by the guards, “You act as if you're any better, your attention towards the princess is also quite the unique thing.” Is what Harwin slowly said on top of him, but everyone was too scared and focused on the fight to stop to even care.
Things started to go downhill from then onwards.
Aemond and you have gotten slightly closer and things seemed to be less intense between you both, that was until your mother whisked you and your siblings away to dragonstone.
Criston was devastated, angry but he couldn't do anything about it, nor stop it.
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Until driftmark.
He got to see you again, you stood there beside rhaenyra and your siblings watching as the funeral progressed, and clearly understanding the venomous words Vaemond aimed at your family.
Criston fought the urge to leave Alicents side and instead spend it with you, he wants to be closer to you, he wants you to remember him, maybe one day you'll even find out that he is your father, and when you do, he doesn't want you to be disappointed in him.
He made many plans, that if everything went well then your family would visit the keep often.
Of course until Lucerys took Aemond's eye.
He knew the drift between both sides of the family was clearer than ever, especially after Alicent lunged at Rhaenyra in anger with a knife.
Aemond did his best to interfere.
To everyone's surprise, when you came to realise what happened, you immediately sped to Aemond's side, and looked at his face before wincing at the raw sight, he was holding his mother before he turned and his gaze fell upon you.
Your lips trembled slightly as you looked at him softly and with pity, but he didn't return anything back, not even a scowl.
And that would be your last interaction with Aemond, or anyone on that side of that family at all.
Up until years later.
Many years have passed, and Criston tried to forget about everything, but he couldn't. Instead, as the years went by, he grew more worried but curious, he wondered if you'd grown into a woman, he wondered if you look even more like him now.
Luckily all his questions would be answered when he found out that your family would be returning to the keep, as Vaemond had made a petition against Lucerys.
Aemond was far too excited to see you too again, he remembers taking nothing but pleasure in the expressions you'd make when he'd be mean to you, they were forever etched into his memory.
Since the incident from the driftmark, Aemond grew into a much more calculated yet even more mean of a person, his words would be laced towards venom against the ones he despised, dripping ever so sweetly from his tongue.
Your arrival was anticipated by both the men patiently.
And day had arrived just like they hoped, you stepped into the walls of the red keep once again, yet everything seemed to lose its familiarity with the family sigils being replaced to that of the seven.
You did not come across both of them till the next day, until you went into the training yard with your brothers, you watched as they reminisced and smiled, you looked over the spot you always stood whenever you would watch them train, the spot looking smaller since you've grown in height.
However you felt the stares of the people prod at your back and you looked at them to see all of them whispering about your and your siblings obviously non valyrian features.
You try not to let it get to you, and distract Luke from the judgemental gazes, considering how he's already been feeling insecure due to the petition.
That was until you heard a noise in the background, and watched as the people gathered in a shape resembling a circle, you quickly patted Jace and Luke and gestured to them to come with you to watch what was going on.
You immediately spotted the familiar face of Ser Criston Cole, making a wide smile appear on your face as you watched him sway his weapon against who you weren't sure was Aegon or Aemond as the back was turned.
Ser Criston hasn't changed since the last time you saw him, you watch as he swung his weapon towards the Prince, and he countered that attack and blocked it with his sword, causing Criston to withdraw his weapon and take the Prince's previous spot, which lead to the Prince now facing you.
You immediately recognized him the moment you spotted that eyepatch, sitting snugly over his left eye.
Aemond.
Something about seeing him like that made heat travel down your body, is this what they call desire? You swallow thickly. He has indeed grown into a very handsome man, the loss of his did nothing but elevate his looks even further.
The trial match soon came to an end, with Aemond's blade pointing towards Criston's collarbones.
“Well done my Prince, you'll be winning tourneys in no time.” Criston praises, “I don't give a shit about tourneys.” Aemond answers while regulating his breathing, his grip loosens on the sword as his eye lands on you and your siblings, “Nephews,” the sword in his hand is spun slightly as he lowers it, “'Have you come to train?” he asks and that's when Criston's attention turns towards you and his eyes widens.
Jace's throat tightens as he tries to form a reply, not expecting Aemond to be this well trained over the years.
“Niece.” Aemond addresses you next and you look at him, “It has been a while.” He comments, his eye scanning your figure from toe to head, before his lips twitch, forming into a smirk.
“It has, Aem— Uncle.” you reply, cutting yourself off before you spoke his name.
“Princess.” Criston greets you and you smile, “Ser Criston, It is a pleasure to see you again.” you tell him and he nods, giving you a tight lipped smile. He's noticed how you resemble him even more now, which makes him happy but also fear.
“OPEN THE GATES!” you hear a distant voice yell and watch as the gates open.
Vaemond Velaryon enters the premises with guards around him, the chatter and everything falls to silence as the only noise now that can be heard are the footsteps of the guards as they accompany him.
The way he looks at Luke doesn't go unnoticed, causing already shaken up Luke to shiver further in fear, but you hold his hand, reassuring him.
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You travel to your chambers patiently and prepare yourselves for the court hearing that would likely be held in a few hours, you sit down and pace around the chambers that were given to you when you had arrived here.
You hear the sound of a stone sliding in your chambers and you turn around to see none other than your uncle aemond emerging from behind a tapestry in the chamber.
“Aemond? What are you doing here? You shouldn't enter a lady's room like that.” You question him, calling him by his name instead of uncle like you did earlier.
He makes his way over to you, his presence was intimidating as he looked over to you. “Pardon my rudeness but how can I contain myself when my niece, who I haven't seen for the past few years appears in front of me?” He quirks up an eyebrow, his eye scans your figure once again, but this time, his gaze lingering more on your breasts before he meets your eyes once again.
“Especially when she's all grown?”
“When the object of both my desire and ire is right in front of me, how can I not?” His hands rest on your hips, and your mouth falls open.
“You are being inappropriate-” You protest.
“Look me in the eye and tell me you did not feel something when you first saw me.”
Fuck.
You thought you covered it well.
“What? Did I catch the cat in the act?” He mocks you and you glare at him, one of his hands travels to your cheek, tilting your head upwards before he descends his lips on your own.
You're shocked at what he's doing, but you don't protest, your mind becomes hazy as he continues kissing you, lips moving against yours in a rhythm, he swipes his tongue against your bottom lip, asking for entrance and to your own surprise, you allow him to by slightly parting your lips open.
The kiss elevates further from there, his tongue fighting against yours as you kiss him back, your hands grip his shoulders as leverage while his own grab your waist pulling you close, it gets rougher, hungrier but more passionate.
He pulls away for air looking at you while breathing heavily, you hold him by the face and pull him into a kiss again and he returns it immediately.
Your head spins as Aemond walks you backward until your back comes in contact with a wall, his grip tightens on you further, he pins your hands above your head as pulls away, and you look at him with pleading eyes, your lips swollen from the kiss.
“Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful for a bastard.” He comments and you frown, “Everyone knows, they just don't say it in front of you.” He says meanly, “I could have your tongue for that.” You threaten him but he smirks, “Hmm? Really?” He mockingly questions and you try to glare at him, but it doesn't seem much threatening.
His free hand hikes your skirts up, and travels upwards to your cunt, you gasp when you feel his cool fingers press up against your clit, then travel slightly downwards where your wetness was beginning to leak from.
“Don't fucking tell me you're getting wet all because I called you a bastard?” He questions, and you try to deny it but your body betrays you by making you clench your thighs together in arousal, he chuckles meanly and you bite your lip to try and fight the humiliation you are feeling.
“You seem to like it when I'm fucking mean to you, don't you? Seriously, you're getting wet from this.” You heave when you feel him pinch your clit, pulling on it meanly, causing you to squirm.
“Yes, yes you fucking do.” He growls.
“Aemond-” You choke out his name and he replies with a hum, “Hm?” He peppers kisses against your neck as you try to form sentences but you cannot seem to do so because of the way his fingers are rubbing small circles onto your clitoris.
“We s-shouldn't— it's unseemly of us oh–? ahh—! fuck.” You throw your head back against the wall when you feel him insert a finger into your awaiting entrance, He slowly moves it in and out, he lets go of your hands which were pinned to the wall, causing them to immediately fall on his shoulders in an attempt to balance yourself.
His free hand trails down to your bodice, he pulls the material down, freeing your breasts, he mutters a curse before peppering kisses to the flesh, and biting harshly which chokes out a whine from your throat. He pulls away and watches as the shape of his teeth get imprinted into the flesh of your breast, marking you.
His mouth then descends onto your nipple, you let out a loud and a lewd moan when you feel his finger curl up and hit the sweet spot inside of you while simultaneously his tongue flicks and plays with your bud.
He inserts another finger inside slowly, stretching you on them and your grip on his shoulder tightens, nails digging into the material of his clothes.
“Are you a maiden?” He asks you suddenly, pulling away from your nipple and you look at him for a second, processing what he said before nodding shyly, which causes him to smirk. “No wonder why you are clenching around my fingers so tightly, Relax.”
He speeds up his pace, hitting the sweet spot over and over again, you clench your eyes shut when you feel a type of tightening begin to form into your lower abdomen.
“Open your eyes.” He commands, you obey and look him directly in the eye, “Good, I want you to look at me when you peak.” He kisses your cheek, and as if right on cue, your orgasm hits you like a sudden storm.
Everything around you feels hot as the pleasure ripples through your entire being, making you moan his name out loud.
He slowly pumps his fingers in and out, letting you ride your orgasm out before placing a kiss to your lips and pulling his fingers out, letting your skirts fall back to place again, and puts the same fingers in his mouth, licking up the evidence of your essence, a satisfactory hum leaves his mouth.
Before he could advance any further, there is a knock on your chamber door, before he watches it slightly open, quick on his feet, he swiftly leaves your chambers through the secret passageway, and you try to fix your clothing, pulling up the material back up to your breasts and patting down your hair.
You watch as the knight enters your chamber and bows to you, “Princess, the court session is about to take place, your presence has been requested.” he tells you and nods, clearing your throat, “I shall be there.” He bows his head before leaving the room and you quickly fix up your appearances before leaving your chambers.
Heart racing at the thought that you both would've been caught if you hadn't reacted quickly.
Aemond, in an attempt to move to his chambers quickly, accidentally took the wrong route and ended up on the path to the small council room, which he figured out when he heard the voices of his mother and Ser criston.
“What do you mean by this criston?” He was about to turn back but halts when he hears his mother talk. “I have noticed your attention on the eldest daughter of rhaenyra, are you infatuated with her?” Alicent asks plainly, voice laced with concern. “No- my queen, she-” Aemond hears Criston sigh, “I suppose I cannot hide it any longer.” This makes Aemond grit his teeth, did Criston actually like you? He couldn't let Criston have you.
“She is my daughter.”
“What?”
What?
Aemond's eye widens as he hears those words leave his mouth, and Alicent is shocked as well. “How long have you known this for?” Alicent questions, “For many years, few months before driftmark.” He tells her, “I apologise my queen, I should've told you it immediately but- I was concerned for her safety.” He confesses and bows his head in shame.
“All is forgiven Ser Criston, Was this from the time you had laid with rhaenyra?” She continues to ask and he nods, “I am glad it is just that, because I plan to betroth Aemond to her, and with what you've just revealed to me, I think I can confidently go through with this.” She tells Criston of her plans, and this satisfies Aemond very much, but there is the fact that he cannot look at you the same anymore, for you were the daughter of someone who was his father figure his entire life.
Besides, he wondered what would Cristons reaction be if he found out what Aemond actually did to you mere moments ago.
“Prince Aemond? Your grace, I do not question your decision, but they don't seem very close, from what I remember, he had always seemed quite rude towards her.” Criston speaks up, he tries not to show the distaste for the choice as he has no say in this, because he cannot rightfully claim you as his daughter. “They will make up eventually, they're both grown ups now, I'm sure they'd put their childish quarrels aside.” Alicent answers him, Criston bites his lip, preventing himself from saying anything. “Besides, she is next in line to the throne, I know there will be complications if we crowned aegon, so we'll retreat and let Rhaenyra rule, after that, Y/N will ascend, at first I was reluctant to have a bastard on the throne, but I changed my mind after your confession.” Alicent reveals her true motives to him which makes Criston internally punch himself for revealing that, he still thinks Aemond isn't the right man for you.
“It is not uncommon knowing that after their marriage- she will eventually give birth to Aemond's children, his heirs, our blood, and they will definitely inherit the throne right after her, putting our blood on the throne.” Criston nods as he listens to Alicent speak.
They fall silent for a bit thinking through it.
“My Queen, the court session is starting.” A guard comes inside the council to inform her, Aemond immediately goes back to his room before cleaning and composing himself and then making his way to the throne room.
The court session was progressing, with Vaemond backing up his reasons to sign a petition against Lucerys, and everyone in court listened intently.
But Aemond's attention is somewhere else, on you, who is currently squirming under his gaze, trying to avoid it, this makes Aemond smirk a little, with all he had overheard from his mother, he could only think of one thing.
You bearing his heirs.
How amazing you'd look with your stomach swollen, carrying his seed deep inside you, this thought alone makes his cock ache.
It was one boring session, until Viserys arrived, and knowing Vaemond had nothing to lose anymore, considering he already lost, he chose to direct vile insults towards you, your brothers and your mother, which led to Vaemond's head partially being cut off by Daemon.
This shocked everyone and Viserys fell weakly onto the chair.
“And one more final— hh. thing.” He wheezes out, “The queen- has proposed a. be- be-brothal between Aemond and Y/N, w-w-which. i. hh accept, it is a perfect way to reunite our drifted houses.” He manages to get the words out. Your gaze turns towards Aemond whose smile just got bigger and you look away immediately blush creeping up your cheeks, frankly, all you could think about was his fingers inside you.
Viserys ends up having a coughing fit, which causes Alicent to panic and scream for the maesters.
Viserys doesn't seem to have left more than a few moons to survive, so they plan a wedding in one moons time, to have the king witness it before he dies, and also so that Rhaenyra can't go back and change her decision.
Dinner that night went peacefully, with Aemond right beside you, Aemond was too focused on you to the point he didn't notice how Lucerys chuckled when the pig had come in, you did, so you shot him a stern but warning gaze, which made him shut up.
You were back in your chambers again, the maids undid your hair, letting it fall freely and got you ready into your bed clothes, you decided to sit by the fire and read a book when you heard the familiar sound of a stone sliding again.
You lifted your head and found Aemond, also in his bed clothes who was coming towards where you sat, “What are you reading?” He asks and before you can close the book, he snatches it from you and views it.
“A caution for young girls?” The name alone is enough to make blush creep up your cheeks, “If I remember correctly, isn't this book forbidden?” He teases and you get up from your seat and grab the book from his hand, turning away from him before placing it on the table.
“What do you want?” You ask, not bothering to turn back.
His arms snake around your waist and wrapping them around it, he nuzzles his nose into the back of your neck and places kisses on it, “I think you know what I want very well.” He mutters, still kissing your neck.
“I'm afraid I don't.” You try to play clueless, not wanting to react to what he's saying but all of that comes crumbling down when he gropes your breast before squeezing it tightly. “Don't you?” He questions and turns you to make you face him.
His hand moves to your cheek, “You want me to remind you? Where we left off?” He asks and you stare into his eye, not speaking anything, trying to deny him. That doesn't last long when he presses his lips against yours, and once again you're kissing him back, he is just so addictive.
He suddenly pulls away, and throws you over his shoulder, catching you off guard and makes his way towards your bed before throwing you on it, causing you to bounce slightly.
“I cannot hold back anymore.” He hovers over your form, trying to contain himself, “Don't.” that one singular word leaving his mouth was enough to break his restraint, and before you know it, he's on top of you kissing your face, neck, breasts as he paws at your nightgown, trying to remove it off you.
Frustrated, he tears it off your body, ripping it into shreds before throwing the fallen pieces away.
Your body is in full view to him now, you feel so vulnerable yet aroused, you rub your thighs together to soothe the ache forming in between them. “Spread them.” He speaks and you're confused until you realise he means your legs, you feel ashamed to do so. “Did you not hear me? Spread those fucking legs.” His voice becomes impatient now, causing you to spread your legs.
You lay there, humiliation poking every inch of your body as he remains silent, staring at your cunt, you shiver when you feel the cold breeze hit your core, and then suddenly Aemond moves swiftly, giving you not enough time to realise what he was doing.
“Wha—” your question is cut off short when you feel his warm mouth on your sex, making you shriek in surprise when his tongue laps at your clit, flicking the bundle of nerves up and down, “Seven fucking hells, you taste divine.” he mutters against your cunt before devouring it once more, his tongue prods at your entrance, before entering inside you, whenever he moved, his nose would bump against your clit causing stimulation.
He suddenly pulls away and lays down next to you before pulling you on top of him, you end up straddling his waist and lay your arms on his chest as support. “Sit on my face.” He demands, “But-”
“Did I fucking stutter? Sit. On. My. Face.” He growls and cuts you off, making you shiver and you obey him changing positions to where your cunt is hovering right above his mouth, his warm breath hitting it.
He grabs your thighs harshly, annoyed at your reluctance and pushes your cunt into his mouth before lapping at it like a man starved, you throw your head back at the pleasure.
You move your hips unknowingly to aid your building pleasure, and it is when he nips at your clit that you feel your peak coursing through your lower body, you choke out a moan of his name.
He once again changes position by laying you on your back and moving up a little, his lips meet yours again, and you wince at the tangy taste of your own juices.
Aemond pulls away, “Gosh, I can't believe a bastard like you has me fucking cunt struck.” He whispers in your ear, “D-don't call me that.” you tell him, “But you seemed to to fucking like it earlier.” You stay quiet to that, not wanting to admit it.
“I know of your tastes my lovely niece, do you even know who your father is?” He asks and you shake your head no, “It's Ser Criston Cole.” He tells you and you look at him shocked, “I overheard him talking to my mother earlier, how does it feel? Lady Cole?” and you remain quiet.
Ser Criston Cole was your father?
It all made sense now.
“But enough of that, your attention should be on me.” He grabs you by your cheeks, squeezing them, “My dirty little whore of a bastard, with a cunt so divine that it puts gods to shame.”
“You should be ashamed of yourself, letting me do all of this to you, do you have no dignity? you're crumbling the moment I try to do something.” He says meanly and tears prick at the corner of your eyes, it wasn't anything new, he had always been this way, ever since he was young, you knew this was humiliating, you knew this was insulting, seven hells, you're even almost crying at his words, yet you can't help but get wet at everything he's saying.
“You're mine, you have always been mine, got it? mine to mock, push you around, fuck, breed and do whatever as I please.” He growls, you lay there and nod, “Gods, it feels so good to be so mean to you, I hate to admit it, but I love seeing you cry.” He wipes the tear that has escaped your eye with his thumb before putting the very same thumb into his mouth and tasting it.
He pushes you further up the bed, before he sits back, he undoes his breeches, and pulls it off along with his tunic, leaving him bare just like you, and you swore that the gods favoured him much more than others, his body seemed as if it was sculpted and moulded personally by the smith himself.
He spreads your legs wide before placing himself between them, his cock rubbing against your folds, “Do you want my cock so bad? Your cunt is fucking weeping for it.” He questions and you nod, “Use your words.” He orders you, and you swallow, “I want your cock.” You speak slowly.
“Beg for it.” He smirks when he sees your eyes widen, and you take a deep breath, trying to form words, he taps your clit with his cock causing you to squirm, “Please-” You managed to choke out. “Please what?”
“Please—! Please I want your cock inside me so fucking badly.” You say, and that is enough for Aemond before he positions his tip at your entrance. “This is going to hurt okay?” He tells you, and you nod.
And gods did it hurt.
His cock was too big, the stretch was unbearably painful, yet Aemond was patient, pushing in slowly and slowly until he was fully sheathed, it took him every grain of control to not start ramming into you like a wild beast, especially the way your cunt was clenching around him, he breathed heavily, letting you relax and adjust to him.
“I'm going to move, stop me if it's too painful.” He tells you and you stare at him, “I thought you found joy in my pain.” you mutter which makes him chuckle, “I do, but even i have my limits, and this is where I draw the line.” He tells you, which makes you smile, “You can move now, Uncle.” you tease and he grits his teeth before drawing his hips back and thrusting into you harshly, you wince as the first few thrusts cause you slight pain, until you relax and eventually get used to it, and slowly get pleasure from it.
But this pace wasn't enough.
“Faster- Aemond–” You heave out as your body jerks up and down beneath, and just like you pleaded, he swiftly increases the speed. “You're a filthy fucking bastard, you know that?” Aemond sneers at you, grabbing you by the cheeks as he brutally thrusts into you. “Answer me.” he groans into your ear and you nod, earning a light slap from him on your cheeks, “With words.” he growls.
“Yes, I- know!” you moan when you feel the tip of his cock hit the sweet spot, hands gripping the linen sheets tightly as he bullies your hole. “And who does this filthy bastard belong to?” He asks, sickeningly sweet, hands leaving your cheek to grip at your breast, twirling your nipple in between his thumb and index finger.
“Y-You.” You gasp when you feel his hand trail down to your cunt and press up against your bundle of nerves before rubbing small and gentle circles on it, elevating your pleasure. “Good girl, you're so good for me, aren't you? Good for your uncle, you'll let me breed you right?”
“Hmm–! Yes! I'll let you breed me– oh fuck right there– yes–” You throw your head back against the bed as you feel him hitting and ramming into your sweet spot again and again and before you know it, your peak is ripped through you brutally, causing you to clench around his cock, making him moan loudly.
“Fuck-” and with a gasp, Aemond finishes inside you, his hot spend coating your inner walls, creating a warm feeling, he slowly rides his orgasm out, staying in until his cock begins to soften.
“You'll look so beautiful with my children, your breasts will swell with milk, and I'll indulge myself in them, because you're mine, you belong to me and I shall do as I please with you, and you'll let me right?” He asks and you nod, “Such a fucking pretty bastard, and my soon to be wife.” He presses a kiss to your forehead.
He pulls you into his arms and you both fall asleep, too tired to even clean up because of the eventful day.
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A month later.
To say Criston was disappointed would be an understatement, he didn't hate Aemond, but he didn't like him to the point where he would watch his only child, that too who he cannot claim openly, be wedded off to him.
But at least you look happy and content with him.
After the vows were said and you were officially declared as Aemond's wife, Criston left the scene not being able to control his emotions, he stood at the very same place where he almost took his life, gazing up into the sky, “Ser Criston?” He heard your voice and immediately turned to you, “Princess.” He bows, “You can drop the formalities.” You tell him with a smile and he looks at you questioningly, “Fathers shouldn't be formal with their daughters after all.” You explain and his eye widens before he looks around to see if anyone heard that.
“You- know it?” He chokes, not being able to hold back his tears anymore. You nod “Aemond told me.” You tell him, and he immediately hugs you and you return the hug, “I am sorry, I failed you, but I had my own reasons, even then, I still apologise, I wish I had been there for you more.” He cries and you pull away from the hug, “It is fine, I can understand.” you reassure him and he smiles at you.
Everything seemed to have ended happily.
Though there was that one thought which Criston had that was immediately forgotten when you pulled him back to the wedding.
How did Aemond even come to know of it?
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— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡
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lixie-phoria · 1 year
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ੈ✩‧ 🎀🩰 ➛ felix thinks he's subtle as he pines over you
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pairing : felix x gn reader
genre : fluff | warnings : none
chan's ver. | hyunjin's ver. | jeongin's version | lee know's ver. | changbin's version | han's ver.
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"felix can you please concentrate?"
the idol startles at the comment, looking up from his phone to see the boys staring at him expectantly.
"oh, right," he sheepishly mumbles, placing his phone up side down reluctantly as chan goes back to briefing them on the likely plans of their latest comeback. but felix's heart wasn't in it.
he couldn't help himself when his right leg started bouncing unconsciously and he chewed at the inside of his cheek.
why hadn't you acknowledged the flowers he had sent over to your place over an hour ago? he knew the florist was only a 5 minutes drive from your place, so there was no way you hadn't received them yet.
felix was in love with you, and everyone seemed to know it except for you. but in your defense, he'd never tried to explicitly make a move. he instead resorted to sending you flowers everyday. every evening when you reached home from work, there would be a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers you had ever seen waiting for you at your doorstep. everyday was a new flower with their meaning attached and signed by 'your secret admirer'.
it was adorable and the most touching gesture someone had done for you in a while, and you would thank the sender everyday by storying the flowers or tweeting about them. felix had been waiting for this acknowledgement for the past half an hour, thumb growing sore as he refreshed his notifications every two seconds.
did you not like the flowers he sent this time? were you okay? did you reach home safe?
"felix, if you really want to know if y/n received the flowers or not, just text them about it?"
felix startled for what seemed like the 100th time that day, meeting hyunjin's eyes defiantly.
"if i do that, then they would know i sent it to them."
"isn't that the whole point?"
"no."
all 7 of them collectively let out a sigh. this had been going on for months.
chan understood felix's plight, though. he'd been in a similar position himself.
the elder shook his head, subtly pulling out his own phone and typing in a quick message to you.
[ chan ] hi yn :)) which flower did your secret admirer send this time?
it was an innocent question, since you usually updated chan about the flowers first.
you immediately read his message, but when you didn't reply chan furrowed his brows.
but the next second felix jumped up from his chair, a giddy smile pulling at his lips and scaring han half out of his mind.
"they tweeted about it!! they said they loved them and it made their day better."
what felix failed to notice was the little sun emoji you had used when you tweeted about the flowers; an emoji you explicitly used only when talking about or to felix.
oh, so you knew.
how you knew, they weren't sure, but the boys did not have the heart to tell felix that for all his efforts, turns out he hadn't been subtle at all.
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©lixie-phoria, 2023
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radiance1 · 6 months
Text
Okay guys.
Dragon Danny, this time not eastern.
BUT HEAR ME OUT, HEAR. ME. OUT.
He's made of....
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GOO!
Not just any goo, obviously. But ectoplasmic goo :3
This au is gonna be disconnect from both the Ghost King and Ghost Prince headcanon I should say. Instead of being king of all ghosts, he's basically like...
A mega Blob ghost.
King of the Blob ghosts, even.
Like, basically the equivalent of those giant slime monsters or that King slime boss from Terraria but a dragon!
Whenever he's in dragon form, he can choose if he wants legs or not, if he doesn't, he basically just moves like, well, a snail. Obviously faster than a snail, but still. He doesn't leave a trail behind most of the time though, because he actually needs that stuff thank you very much and leaving a trail behind is pretty messy obviously.
Whenever he uses legs he just walks as any other two legged creature.
Because of his unique biology, he can basically shift between Eastern and Western dragon form at will. He can manipulate his body far more than that, but anyways.
So, Danny has outlived his friends and family, so there isn't much for him to really, well, do anymore. Like, at all.
The GIW was and still is persistent as ever though. Even if he's outlived the original members that were gunning for him.
Apparently, becoming a goo dragon and ascending to his status as King of the Blob ghosts bumped up both his valuableness and his threat simultainously.
Which he guesses is fair because if he saw a guy turn into a giant dragon and he doesn't have a positive relationship with he would see him as a threat too.
So, how did this lead to him being locked up inside of a heavily fortified base created explicitly for him to be contained within.
Well, funny story that (It's not).
He was just minding his business, having recently broken out of another containment facility by the GIW to try and contain him, and he went back to the forest near Amity Park to just chill as he always did.
A few... weeks? Months? He honestly couldn't remember, he was confronted by the GIW. Didn't take them seriously, got this gas/liquid thing shoved inside of him, knocked out, then woke up in contaiment.
Which is basically a giant hole in the ground.
Except that it's a high-tech hole in the ground.
Something, something, ectoplasmic suppressors or whatever that leave him less able to manipulate his own ectoplasm, which is a bummer. He can still manipulate it, of course, just to a far less degree than he could've before, along with that liquid that'll be pumped into him via some metal round in the ground directly below him whenever he gets too rowdy.
Well.
Consider him effectively contained.
So, time passes, how much he couldn't tell you since his concept of time is warped after living for so long plus, it's not like anyone there would really tell him if he asked now would they?
However, today seemed to be an exciting day, because something was happening.
He could see it in the way scientists scramble for an exit and how the guards run through his area. Of course, some still stay to 'guard' him, since he thinks he's some kind of priceless item.
A scientist's words, not his, but being referred to as priceless is nice.
And then wouldn't you know it?
That one scientist that said they would do their best to help him actually pulled through with their words! Thanks, Henry, he has decided that he will not kill you!
(He wasn't going to do it anyways, but it's fun to scare people.)
With both the guards gone, the ectoplasmic suppressors down, and no one to stick that liquid shit into his system.
Well.
You can say he finally gets to go apeshit.
And a dragon is a formidable foe any day. Add to that a rampaging, bored of his mind, petty, dragon that's able to manipulate himself however he wants?
Even better situation for him, how the facility is seemingly being raided right now!
Danny then, no warning, shoves Henry inside of himself. For protection, and then continues his rampage.
Meanwhile, the Justice League, the ones raiding said facility, is currently here because of the Anti-Ecto Acts.
A set of laws they do not, and will not, stand by.
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cupidscrule · 16 days
Note
sooo if u could do bullysatosugu x fem!reader u would do me a biiiiiiggg favorrr and thak youuu
PUPPY BABY !
BULLY!Satosugu× afab!reader (no prns r used)
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WARNINGS - light bondage, mean Satoru and suguru, slight non con? Reader doesn't explicitly consent but it's Implied, au where suguru isn't a cult leader, p in v, forced blow job, marking, reader gags on their panties
1.2 k wrds
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You were their victim, all throughout highschool and now as a teacher. Still their victim, even though you three had grown up that didn't stop them, Satoru. Suguru.
Fucken assholes, calling you names, making fun of how you look, talked, anuthin' they could.
It was miserable, you couldn't do anything against them either way so it was pointless, the only reasonable person in your life was Shoko
"I swear I'm gonna kill them." You mutter to her dramatically falling back onto her bed, "I know they're annoying " she replies glam in over at you, she was the only person you could TALK to. At least she was always there as a buffer between you and the bastards, always let you rant and scream with her.
They never fucked around with Shoko though, no idea why they won't respect you but they will her.
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"I'm so tireddd" you groan leaning back in the empty classroom, your students were currently out on a mission, probobly not dead. Shoko was off doing god knows what and, well there was Gojo and Geto. Honestly it was a pretty good day, they weren't around you; they were doing their own thing. Meaning you get peace and quiet. Which is rare.
"Hey y/n! What's up" the way too familiar voice echos, sound of the creaking door opening. Standing in the doorway the men.
"The hell do you want" you murmmer looking over at them, eyes halflided looking both grosed out and annoyed. Typical reaction to seeing those dicks.
"You looked lonely, thought we'd stop by" suguru said causally, shrugging his shoulders.
"Whatever bullshit your up to, I don't care" you say plainly, to your dismay they don't leave though. Coming up closer to you, Satoru talking about random shit, suguru just looking over at you. You were leaning on one of the old desks, too tired to be bothered to get rid of the pests
Satoru coming up beside you pulling on your hair harshly, slightly whimper comes from your lips
"Oh fuck sugu~ hear that" the white haired one says smirking like a cunt
Pulling away from him, standing a few feet away from them. "Fucken' whore" he whispers small laugh coming from him
" 'toru aren't you being a bit mean to the poor thing?" Geto hums, hands in his pockets. Eyes lingering on the display infront of him
"Nah shes not crying it's fine!! Sugu don't be such a downer " Satoru says fake frown on his dumb little face. Looking back over at you his hand going to grab your face, only to be stopped by you slapping it away
"Don't touch me." You say short, teeth gritting
"Bitch oh you're gonna regret that" he glaring at you, roughly grabbing onto your shoulders pushing you firmly against the wall, his grip tight, nails digging into your soft skin though the fabric of your uniform
Before briefly releasing you, shoving you down. Honestly you're kinda shocked, shocked that he thinks he can just get away with this. But of course it doesn't even MATTTER suguru's standing beside the cunt. They both have a devilsh look on their eyes which made you shudder, brows furrowed at them
"Yknow I've- fuck always been more a dog person"
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Fucking humiliation is all you felt, they had you on your knees. Hands held behind your back, gagging on Satoru, even worse was your soaked panties, the fact you were getting off on this
Suguru sat on a chair behind you, holding your wrists firmly, while you were buried between satorus legs, his hand held on your hair gripping it and fucking your sore throat. Only sloppy moans came from you, tears in your eyes
"Shit you crying? What happened to tellin us to fuck off ?" Suguru laughs, using his free hand to rub the tears off your face.
"Mmf- don't even have a gag reflex you really are - fuck a slut huh?" Satoru says, forcing you to take his whole length, feeling his seed seep into your throat.
He pulls out, still semi hard dick in his hand "swallow." He said, watching you, a teary pretty little mess choke it down, face all red.
"Better listen hunny" suguru mutters patting the side of your cheek, you would almost think it was endearing if it wasn't for your situation.
No matter how much you tried you just couldn't make a coherent sentence, just babbles of cuss words.
"F-fuck y- you-"'
"Use your words" suguru says again in that sickly sweet tone
Satoru still up in front of you, looking down at you as if you're a bug.
"I h- hiccup hate- you. " Only words to come out of your mouth, wasn't really what they wanted to hear but it was something !
Suguru letting go of your wrists , releasing you, thighs were pressed together , dribbles of cum coming down from your chin with still teary eyes, awe it made satorus heart melt. For a moment he almost wanted to take away all the pain you were in, but then you wouldn't be crying so what's the fun in that?
"I'll take care of you hm? Alright hunny?" Suguru says, picking you up, bending your down, stomach down and ass up on the cold desk you were sitting on, you still had all your clothes on. Well despite your shirt being ever so slightly unbuttoned. Suguru with ease pulled down your sweats, your white lacey panties soaked, small giggle comes from Satoru after seein' that
"I was just jokin' damn, slutty one aren't ya?"
Suguru gently pulling them off, handing them to Satoru who proceeds to jam them in your mouth, making you taste your own filth, hearing suguru unbutton his pants, running his dick on your slit making muffled moans escape from you
Bullying his dick into your right hole, soft groans is all that's heard in the room, suguru has your legs resting on his hips while he digs into you.
Hands digging into your ass, earning small whines from you
His pace wasn't as bad at Satorus, still sore though. Till eventual you can feel him slowdown chasing his high, pulling close into you and cumming inside, hands still gripped onto your ass making small red marks.
"Cries too much" Satoru says pushing you over onto suguru
"Satoru, be nice they've been through enough ~"
"Mfm-sore- hurt" you whine snuggling closer to them
Huh, maybe they aren't so bad.
PT 2 CHAT?1!!1
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transmutationisms · 3 months
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In a different ask about Mark Fisher, you mentioned that he “…had some reactionary tendencies that you can see in, for example, the way he talked about 'depressive anhedonia' and what that reveals about his attitude toward pleasure. many such cases on the academic left.” Can you elaborate on this and why do you think it is so prevalent on the academic left?
i guess the more accurate way i would rephrase myself is that this is an attitude common to the overculture and consequently to academia, but that i find to be particularly hypocritical when it comes from people styling themselves as 'leftists'—broadly speaking there's a real fear that 'excessive' pleasure or leisure (this is often conflated with the procurement of luxury consumer goods) is morally corrupting, distracts from or hinders political action, arrests personal growth, &c. often this idea of a coddled, pampered, pleasure-ridden younger generation is explicitly counterposed to a reactionary fantasy of past generations of 'hard workers' who performed physical labour or didn't have ipads or whatever the issue du jour is. it's bad analysis because it blames the nebulous idea of 'too much enjoyment' for what are actually real and pressing political issues: for example, whose labour made the ipad and under what conditions?
there's a huge & critical difference between saying that the procurement of luxury consumer goods for global northerners is predicated on imperial exploitation of the global south, and saying that the goods are simply 'bad', metaphysically, because they make life too enjoyable and people too soft. it comes out of a tendency among academics to a) ignore, minimise, or just not think about imperialism in their attempts to critique capitalism and b) treat the superstructural effects (culture, ideology, psychological experience) as though they are the causal factors, leading to sloppy lazy 'moral degeneracy' theorising that does nothing to liberate anyone and instead just thinks itself into a pit of condescending despair.
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mochinomnoms · 2 months
Note
What would happen if both Yuu and Riddle “protect” eachother from their pseudo siblings potencial eel mate? Because we already see Riddle mother hening Yuu so if Yuu ever explicitly states how uncomfortable they feel around Jade I’m pretty sure Riddle would not hesitate helping Yuu getting out of situations with Jade or like being the third wheel in their project group (with Jade and Yev). And I feel that Yuu would feel the same if Riddle feels a similar way to Floyd cause personally if someone was making my presh baby sibling uncomfortable (or annoying them) I would not hesitate to put the fear of god into them/gremlin my way to cockblocking them.
But then again Jade and Floyd seem like they already made up their minds that Yuu/Riddle are already their mate, but how far will they go to go against their shrimp/goldfish in law?
I just feel like this has hijink potencial, like Jade would try to talk to Yuu and Riddle pops out of no where or Floyd tries to take Riddle away then Yuu comes sliding out of no where grabs Riddle then runs away (I personally headcannon that out of the sibling relationship that Yuu is just more of a gremlin than Riddle always having a bit of a clown flair to their actions whether it’s their intention or not (totally not projecting) while Riddle is like that reasonable older sibling where antics just happen around them)
Sorry for the long post this has just been rotting in my brain for a while. -🧀anon
BRO YES
I was intending on writing these sorts of interactions between them, but since I added the titles the flow of the story has changed a bit so I'm not sure if it will fit into the main fic.
But yes, once it's been established with the two that both of the twins are interested in them, and that they want to avoid them at all costs (no emotional health with these two lads), they are making a game plan.
Riddle is very prim and proper, so he's appalled at the thoughts Jade is having about Yuu (nevermind that these sorts of things are pretty normal for most people) and going out of his way to put space between the two. Jade comes up to whisper in their ear? Riddle is loudly asking, “Oh Jade, did you have something to say? Why don't you share it with me and Yev?” Lunchtime has been monopolized by Riddle and the rest of Heartslabyul, though some of the random students are confused as to why Riddle has insisted that they sit with Ramshackle.
Yuu on the other hand take it upon themselves to interrupt Floyd mid-chase with Riddle and asking him questions about Jade. Things they know he'll report back to Jade, but subtle enough that you couldn't take them at face value. “Hey Floyd! Question: what sort of things does Jade like? No reason, I'm just making sure I have gifts for your guys' birthday!” If Riddle is in at club practice? You're there and “talking” his ear off, interrupting Floyd's quips until he gets so frustrated that he leaves.
If they try to give either one of you gifts? “Oh, thank you, I think Riddle/Yuu will like this! I'll share it with him/them!”
Study dates? “Oh, let me join you too! Let's make it a group actually, I'll bring my dorm members.”
It becomes such a reoccurring thing, seeing Yuu and Riddle together, that rumors start going around that the two are actually dating. The twins are a mix of devastated, annoyed, and thrilled at the hilarity of it all.
Shrimpy doesn't want Floyd to mess with his Goldfiishie? Fine, let's have some fun, you said you wanted to go to the store? Let's go, and oh look there's Jade as well! Oh, and look at the time, Floyd has to go work his shift at the lounge (since when has he cared), have fun with your date with Jade! :D
Riddle is very protective of Jade's Pearl? That's fine, Yuu can stay with Yev then while he and Riddle go to the gardens to get some ingredients. And if Jade happens to disappear, Floyd in his place, well then it's just a coincidence! Jade just remembered that they also needed to buy some herbs from Sam's, he didn't mean to leave Riddle. :''''(
Morays may be cowards, but they're also opportunistic predators. They'll find ways to get around Riddle and Yuu's shenanigans. After all, if the two reeeally didn't feel the same way as them, they surely they would've said something to their respective eel. Maybe they like the attention~
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hey y'all, i pretty much know that i'm the asshole big time- but i'm not sure what to do about it. i know i need to shift my perspective, especially because i'm not sure what to do going forward... or how to meaningfully apologize, so I think i need some outside judgement.
AITA for wanting to possibly return to speaking terms with someone i cheated with?
about 1.5 years ago one of my best friends (i'll call him R, we're all 20 now) confessed to me while I had a bf- R said he knew i wasn't into him but asked me to kiss him once. i felt really bad and didn't feel anything for him, so i said yes and we briefly kissed. I didn't think it was going to be a big deal until I told my boyfriend right afterwards and he got really upset in a way i now see i was really understandable. i've come to see the situation as cheating, but I think fundamentally we had a different view of it at first. my bf asked me to not be alone with him anymore or talk to him outside of groupchats (i was in a friend group of 3 people, R me and another guy). I tried really hard to follow through on this but in reality- i just didn't want to cut off one of my best friends- there were times I went against my boyfriend's wishes and slowly I let up and saw him/talked alone more. I would tell my boyfriend about it and he would be hurt by it and I would feel horrible, but I didn't put up a hard boundary. I hated myself for it, but I didn't feel like R was actually a problem, rather that the problem was my lack of respect for my bf. A month or two later, all of us moved away to different colleges. After two months of long distance and continuing to talk to R on the phone sometimes, my boyfriend left me citing that as one of the reasons.
I realized I should have valued my bf more and I stopped talking to R (basically ghosted him), but he contacted me on another platform and asked if I was okay and I realized that he was a true friend in a lot of ways. When we hung out on winter break at home, we were chilling and he kind of made a joke asking me to sleep with him. I said no very loudly because I'm not into him like that and I was still hung up on my bf. Meanwhile, after 2 months of no contact, me and my bf had started to talk again very tentatively (i had tried really hard to instigate it which, sometimes i feel bad about not leaving him in his peace- but I was having a really hard time accepting the breakup). I realized there was something I really needed to do to show him I was serious and I sent R a text saying we couldn't be friends anymore citing some lame reasons and the whole 'sleep together' thing.
After that, R didn't contact me and I felt like it was sad, but kind of a blessing because I got to focus on building trust between my bf and I and we eventually got back together.
Anyways, in the past year, the relationship has been steadily getting more comfortable and I hadn't had any contact with R or cheated since (I kind of believe once a cheater always a cheater, so this is an accomplishment. I really don't want to hurt my bf like that again.)
Okay here's the sucky part though (as if the rest wasn't already sucky of me) i was posting tiktoks for the first time this week and, little did i know, the algorithm was showing them to people who had my number. I got a call from an unknown number and a text that said "can we talk." I realized from the chat history it was R, whose number i deleted. I didn't answer, but a part of me really wanted to.
I missed him and I felt bad for leaving the friendship the way it was, I was also really curious as to why he was contacting me now?? But I knew I needed to tell my bf before I did anything. He said he would feel more comfortable if I didn't respond and I kind of agreed- but I said I was going to think about it and that I would tell him explicitly before I did anything.
Then the next day I got another call from a random number with my hometown area code- I thought there was a possibility it was R and decided to just act in the moment and let fate decide- I answered and it was him. It was kind of scary, but also exciting and didn't feel wrong in my body. He was weirdly casual just saying hi and that he saw my tiktoks and missed me, we ended up talking like old friends- like the time that had passed had healed some of that old stuff. He told me i was the best friend he ever had, and I remembered all kind of good things about our friendship. I also was able to apologize for ghosting him- if not super well. I knew while we were talking that my bf was not going to be comfortable with this and that I was unsure about what to do going forward and I think R kind of knew that was the case too, so it was also very awkward. when we hung up, it was clear I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to be his friend again.
When I told my bf as soon as i got off the phone, he was understandably very upset, even more so when I said I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep talking to R in the future. I feel really bad for hurting him, I was really mainly thinking about my own feelings. Now he and I are trying to resolve things, but I'm ashamed to say I don't know how I can make it better. I've told him that, even though it's not necessarily what I want, I'm willing to block R again, but I don't think it feels satisfying to either of us. my bf and I have been dating for 4 years now (with that break at 3 yrs) and he means so much to me, I don't want to bring us back to a place of distrust, but part of me feels like this was kind of pent up while I had R blocked. i've never ended a friendship with anyone before or blocked someone, so it all feels really weird to me, but I can imagine that my bf must feel really betrayed by my continued unsureness.
also R and my bf used to be friends for like 5 yrs- then R and I were close for 1 yr. my bf has said he felt left out by that and that he felt like R was a jerk to him while they were friends, so that's an element of it as well.
if you've read this far, thanks so much- advice? AITA? I've spent so much time feeling like scum for the way I handled the situation and while I have to love myself through it- I don't want to keep mishandling it- was answering the call all that bad, do I need to totally forget about talking to R?
What are these acronyms?
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deakyjoe · 1 year
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Beaming Beskar
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Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (no pronouns are used but he calls reader mesh'la meaning "beautiful")
Category: Fluff, friends to lovers (not explicitly stated but may make a part 2)
Summary: Din has a unique way of telling you when he's smiling at you.
Warnings: none really, fluff
Word Count: 800ish (a baby)
A/N: A short little fic to celebrate my journey of getting back into writing. Thank you to Pedro Pascal’s filmography for inspiring me. Also I'm in love with Din Djarin.
It had started when you had made a joke, something silly about the child being a wizard when he made his food float in the air, and a small huff of air had rattled through Din's modulator. Your head had immediately snapped towards him, utter shock rocketing through you. The Mandalorian barely acknowledged your existence, speaking a handful of words to you since you'd met him, and yet here he was... laughing at you. No, not at you. With you.
"I'm sorry, did you just find something I said funny?"
"I laughed, didn't I?" All amusement was gone from his voice almost instantly. You'd pushed it. Finally an opening with him and you'd already ruined it.
"It's hard to tell. You could've just been breathing loudly." You shrugged it off and turned back to the kid, not wanting to provoke him further. He could be temperamental and you never wanted to upset him, meaning you had to tread carefully with him sometimes. You rather liked the Mandalorian, despite him hardly seeming to care for you much. To be honest, you didn't think he cared for anything apart from the child. Which was understandable.
"I smiled." The statement seemed almost sad as he said it, a note of reservation in his voice.
You glanced back up at him, eyes flicking over the helmet for a moment. "I can't... I don't know when you're smiling."
Silence.
Maybe a question wouldn't hurt...
"Do you smile often?"
Hesitation. "Sometimes."
Okay, that was something. Now another question. Just to see how much you could get out of him.
"At me? At the kid?" You answered your own question. "Ooh, definitely at the kid."
"Both. Mostly the kid." He added the last part on quickly.
"Hm." You nodded though the slight crease between your brows gave more away that you intended. You craved knowing him. That was the only way to explain it. And when he gave you so little... it made things difficult.
Din spoke your name softly to get you to look at him again. When you did, he lifted his hand up and traced a line across his helmet. His index finger started on one side, down near where his chin or mouth would be, and drew a curved line across to the other side. A smile.
Your eyes lit up at the gesture and Din found himself smiling at you again. So he repeated the motion. Seeming elated at the idea, you scooted the crate you were sitting on closer to him so you were almost knee to knee.
Gazing up at him with this gorgeous sparkle in your eyes that had Din grinning beneath the Beskar, you asked him a simple question. "Can you do that every time you smile at me? Please?"
"Yes, mesh'la. Of course." The Mando'a term of endearment had slipped before he even had the chance to think about it. But how could he resist when you were looking at him like that?
You always regarded him with a certain glint in your stare, that was only ever brightened when you smiled, as if Din was the most wonderful thing you'd ever laid your eyes on. There was never any hint of hostility, forever open and joyful when you looked at him. And the smiles only ever confirmed this. But in that moment, with the way you were looking at him, Din could feel electricity pumping through his body. He felt alive. And... seen. It was almost like you were seeing straight through the armour and looking at him.
With your shoulders hunched and head ducked in embarrassment at the name he'd given you, you shot him another gorgeous smile that he returned. He loved making you smile. And he loved you making him smile, which you did more often than he ever wanted to admit.
So, naturally, he drew the line across his helmet again and revelled in the happiness that was practically radiating off of you in hot waves as you looked at him do it. The positive emotions must have been pouring out of you as the child began to babble and giggle as well, sensing the high spirits in the room.
The noises the green baby was making seemed to remind you that you were supposed to be helping him eat as you let out a surprised sound and moved back closer to him, struggling to tear your eyes away from the Mandalorian. Din loved to watch you interact with the child, it was those moments that made him smile the most. And whilst he'd maybe never admit it out loud to you, he was happy to express himself through smiles drawn onto his helmet.
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kritzel · 3 months
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Adams Past Thoughts
(English isn't my first language so sorry if I make mistakes)
After finishing HH I got to thinking, was Adam always the way that we see him in the show.
Because he, Lilith and Eve were created without original sin. So it wouldn't make sense for him to be a complete idiot from the beginning.
Here's what I think could be a possibility on what happened (after all we don't know how biased Lilith's book is):
First he and Lilith are created
Maybe he didn't really boss her around and it was more like a situation of a sibling telling the other sibling what to do (I know they where married but it's the only example I could think of)
"Just because you're older doesn't mean you can tell me what to do" kinda way (since Adam probably was made first)
But it was not supposed to be an order from Adam more like a suggestion
So Lilith walks of and meets Lucifer
Heaven realises Lilith won't work as a wife and they create Eve from Adam
Eve is a lot more naive than Lilith
Adam is explicitly told to look after her and make sure she is alright
He does just that and they both are happy together
Lucifer and Lilith create the fruit
And in a rare moment where Eve isn't with Adam she finds the tree
Eve eats the fruit
She gives it to Adam
He eats it too because he loves Eve and doesn't want her to endure the punishment alone
Everything goes downhill from here
I believe they were not really capable of feeling negative emotions before they ate the fruit
Eve being the first to eat it develops a lot of doubts towards Adam
Why wasn't he looking after me? That's what he was supposed to do now we are stuck in a world filled with danger and death
Adam ,who before the fruit didn't care about Lilith leaving him, was now starting to yearn for the woman he never had. She was supposed to be his and now she is with the most hated being of all creation.
They never really expressed the thoughts they had after eating the fruit with eachother
Resentment started building up without them really noticing
They still held love for eachother and tried to survive in a world full of danger
It went alright in the beginning
They had two kids
Everything seemed to look up
But of course Cane kills Abel
And that was the last nail in the coffin
Adam and Eve could not cope with the loss of both their sons (let's pretend Seth never becomes a person in this story)
They still tried to stay together
But the resentment grows bigger
Love turns into hate and a lot of hurtful things are said between them
They separate and go there different ways
And lets pretend Eve really did have something with Lucifer
As soon as Adam hears about that his hate for Lucifer and Eve just grows bigger
What is wrong with these women? What is it about this Lucifer?
He develops a lot of doubts about himself in his living life. Which causes him to develop the fear of being left by anyone who he lets into his life.
After he died he hears all about how great he is being the first man and all
And over the years he starts believing that he can do no wrong and it was only his wife's and Lucifers fault that everything went to shit
And even though deep down he wants a meaningful relationship he opted to just go for hook ups in fear of losing someone again
And after a few thousand years those things develop into the kind of person we see in the show
But this is just one possibility
I hope it is understandable what I'm trying to convey
Please share your thoughts with me.
What do you think happened all these years ago?
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tkwrites · 3 months
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Back to You - Matthew Tkachuk x Jessie (ofc)
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gif from @drysaladandketchup
Title: Back To You
Author: Tory / @tkwrites 
Relationship: Matthew Tkachuck  x Jessie (ofc)
Warnings: Swearing, lots of flirting. Slow burn. Smut at the end: fingering (f receiving), oral (f and m receiving).
Summary: Jessie and Matthew meet at a New Years Eve party and form an instant connection. When a fire rips them apart, can fate bring them back together? 
Word Count: 12,700
Comments: This is my entry for @wyattjohnston‘s winter fic exchange written for @luvsherleafs
This is by far the longest piece I’ve written for Tumblr. I had a really clear vision of where I wanted it to go, and I eventually got it there. In the end, I’m so proud of how it turned out. I hope you enjoy, and would love to know what you think.
Many, many thanks to Mari @eyesthatroll and Bre @fallinallincurls for looking this over and assuring me it wasn’t garbage when I was in the trenches of writing. 
Me and you  We were a strange situation  And kissing you  Felt like Christmas Vacation  An exciting place to escape  Sometimes I wish that I could've stayed Cause you were my favorite Holiday  -Christmas Vacation by LØLØ
Back to You
Matthew couldn't tear his eyes away from her and knew he wasn't the only one. 
With dark hair cascading down her back in a long, shiny waterfall, big eyes and a plump little mouth that looked just made for kissing, she was the kind of classic girl next door people wrote into movies and books for the hero to find his way back to.
He especially liked what she was wearing. Bare legs weren’t really something he would advise at two hours to January in Ottawa, but at least it wasn’t a mini skirt like most women were tugging at constantly. Her shorts had a gold stripe on the sides that caught the flashing lights, as if they might have once been extravagant tuxedo pants tailored explicitly to show off her curvy legs. Her dark shirt had flecks of something metallic in the fabric - a wrapped and tied number like he’d never seen before. 
Laughter was all over her face as she danced with the people around her. Slamming her foot (clad in gold oxfords) down with the beat before circling her hips in time with the music. 
“Do you need a towel, man?” 
“What?” Matthew asked, pulling his eyes away to look at his brother.
“I asked if you needed a towel,” Brady repeated, failing to keep the teasing smile off his face, “for the drool.”    
Matthew flipped him off, and Brady laughed. 
“Go talk to her,” he encouraged, pushing Matthew off the bar stool. “I’m sick of watching you sit here and stare at her. Go do something about it.”  
He hesitated. It hadn't been that long since he’d broken up with Heidi.
“Go,” Brady repeated, shoving him across the walkway onto the dance floor. “Move on.”
Although he wasn't sure if he was ready to meet someone new, Matthew knew Brady was right. He’d be kicking himself come morning if he let a woman this good looking go without at least shooting his shot. 
As he weaved through the crowd of dancers, his competitive drive growled in his chest, pleased. He’d be damned if he let someone else get to her first.
“Your admirer is coming this way,” Roger said, nodding to someone over Jessie’s shoulder. 
She glanced over. A tallish guy with curly hair was walking right at her, a determined intensity all over his handsome face. Her gaze swung back to Roge, eyes wide. 
“Just letting you know so you can prepare,” he said with a wink. “I told you those shorts would bring all the boys.” 
Although she'd made them for the occasion, she didn't think they would pull the amount of attention they were getting. Her clothes often garnered a lot of lingering glances, though they usually came from other women. 
Someone tapped on her shoulder and she turned.
The same guy was standing in front of her. He was much taller up close, had light eyes, and his hair looked like it might be blonde. It was hard to tell under the dim dancefloor lights. 
He flashed her a charismatic smile. The gap between his front teeth only added to his charm. 
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, leaning in and yelling to be heard over the music. 
Jessie wasn’t generally the type to accept drinks from random strangers, but this guy was hot, had nice style, and of all the dudes that had stared at her that evening, was the first one to do something about it. 
“Sure,” she yelled back. 
“Wanna go to the bar?”
After she nodded and they started walking through the mass of dancers, she glanced over her shoulder. Roge lifted his phone out of his pocket and shook it at her. His flashlight turned on. 
She sent him a text about going to the bar and his flashlight, made sure the ringer was turned on, and slipped her phone back into her shorts pocket. Another good thing about making her own clothes: she could make the pockets as big as she needed.
Matthew couldn’t keep the smug smile off his face at the glares and disappointed looks that followed them to the bar.
“What'll you have?” the bartender asked as they came to a stop in the corner of the club. It was a bit quieter. 
“A mojito, please” she said, before gathering her hair into a fist behind her and running her hand down the length of it. 
Momentarily distracted by her actions and the flash of dark red, the bartender had to ask him again what he wanted. 
“Beer would be great,” he said, flashing a bright smile, “whatever light you recommend.” Glancing back at the girl, he ran a hand through his hair to make sure it wasn’t doing something stupid, and said, “I'm Matthew, by the way. “
“Jessie. Are you from around here?”
“No, but my brother lives here. You?”
“My family is from here, but I'm usually in the states.” she said, watching the bartender muddle the mint in her drink. He didn’t seem to be doing anything funny with it. 
“Yeah? Which one?”
“New York. Well, technically New Jersey, but I study in New York.”
“What do you study?” Matthew asked, lifting his beer bottle to his lips. 
“Fashion.”
“I should have guessed,” he said. 
“You should have?”
“Yeah. You have great style.”
The smile that spread over her face made him want to kiss her. 
“What do you do, Matthew?” she asked, as she brought the black straw in her drink to her mouth. She caught it between her tongue and teeth before her lips wrapped around it. 
His train of thought ran off the rails with visions of her mouth wrapping around other things.
Thankfully, autopilot kicked in and saved him from looking like a total creep, “I play hockey.” 
“Seriously?”
He nodded. “I'm based in Florida.”
“Why the hell are you in Ottawa for New Years,” she asked, aghast, “when you could be somewhere warm?”
“We played here yesterday, so my family are all staying with my brother. Why are you here?”
“My dad grew up here, and wanted us to experience the joys of the frozen tundra at Christmastime,” she said with a long sweep of her hand, as if gesturing to the whole country. 
He laughed again, and held her eye contact. It was so intense, she was the one to break it. 
“Anyway,” she flipped her free hand, “what do you do for fun?” 
“I honestly don’t have that much free time, but I always enjoy a good libation,” he said, holding up his bottle. 
A wide smile spread over his face when she clinked her glass against it as she said, “amen.” 
“And I like to hang out with people and I play a lot of other sports.” 
“I will never understand why athletes always want to play other sports. It’s not like I sew upholstery when I’m not making clothes.” 
He laughed, loud and genuine, and Jessie felt her heart flutter a little. 
“It can be hard to turn off the competitive drive, so it helps to have somewhere to channel it. So did you make these clothes?” he asked, nodding at her outfit. 
“Yeah. I found this gold fabric,” her fingers ran down the stripe on her left hip, “and fell in love with the idea of tuxedo shorts for New Years. I play around with a lot of menswear styles.” 
“I like them,” he said. If he, by some miracle, got nominated for another award, maybe he would get a gold striped tux made. 
“We have to wear suits to all of our games, so I’m always looking for something new and interesting,” he said. 
The conversation lulled for a moment, and he continued, “what do you do for fun?” 
“I also enjoy a good libation,” she clinked her glass against his again, “and I like to play tennis and I love movies.” 
The rest of the night was spent in that little corner of the bar, talking and laughing - Matthew was funny. Quick with a movie quote and a sarcastic comment in her ear. She told him about coming to the club with her cousins, only one of whom she really knew, and he told her about coming with his family. A younger, married brother, and a sister still in college. 
He refreshed their drinks and marveled at finding a woman who could keep up with his banter, genuinely laughed at his jokes and seemed interested in him as a person rather than as Matthew Tkachuk. 
They talked about hockey, she knew some as her dad was Canadian, but not a lot, then about fashion. 
She admitted one of the reasons she’d said yes to his drink had been his pants. 
“Listen, more American men need to understand how many more girls they’d get if they just wore the right pants!” 
He cocked an eyebrow. 
“Your pants are fitted properly so I can see your ass and your thighs, and it makes you about a thousand times more attractive.” 
A cocky smile spread over his face, “Oh, yeah?” he asked, leaning into her space. 
She gulped, “yeah. If more men wore pants like yours, they wouldn’t be single.” 
He stayed in her space, and her eyes darted to his lips. He licked them, just to see what she would do at the flash of his tongue. 
Her eyes darted back to his and her cheeks pinked. He smiled. 
The music changed to a slower, more house-style song he recognised. Jessie bumped her shoulders to the beat. 
“Do you want to dance?” Matthew asked.  
“Sure.” 
They moved to the floor, and he watched, entranced as she swung her hips in rhythm.
When she turned around, pressing flush against him, his right hand immediately grasped her hip, as if that might provide some kind of grounding from the fluttering feeling in his chest. 
It wasn’t like this had never happened - girls grinding up on him. It happened quite a lot, actually. Sometimes without any kind of consent. But this? Jessie? He couldn't get enough. She was pretty and they had the kind of instant chemistry you couldn't fake. 
He found himself thinking about her beyond that night. A first since Heidi. 
For her part, Jessie couldn't stand not touching him any longer. The chemistry between them was so palpable, she was surprised other club goers weren’t getting caught in it. Feeling him move against her made desire rumble to life in her belly, growling to be released. 
They danced that way for - Matthew lost track of how many songs. She felt amazing pressed up against him. He was so in tune with how they moved together, the dancing felt like foreplay. 
When the countdown to midnight began, she turned to face him. They were still so close - she could feel his body heat seeping through his clothing and into hers, see the way his button down was just starting to cling to his skin. 
Matthew looked down at her, not hiding any of his interest. She looked back with so much hope and lust in her eyes, his stomach twisted. 
“Three, two, one!” the crowd cheered. 
He leaned down, then paused, “okay?” 
Rising onto her toes, she closed the gap between them in answer. 
All of their flirting was leading up to this moment, and Jessie wasn’t disappointed at all. It was as if everything around them faded into soft focus and the din of the crowd melted away. It was better than she could have imagined. His tongue brushed along hers, and heat flooded her stomach. 
Matthew angled closer when her fingers slid into his hair. His hand splayed over her lower back. He wished he didn’t have this beer bottle so he could have both hands on her.
It went on and on for what felt like ages - a promise of things to come. 
Someone cat called from nearby, and Jessie broke away, pursing her lips to hide how flustered she felt. At least he was as breathless as she was, his chest expanding to the confines of his shirt with every inhale. 
They stared at each other for a moment longer, not quite engaged with the crowd, which was growing increasingly restless with the New Year in full swing.
She was debating between kissing him again, or asking if he wanted to leave all together when the lights went out, plunging them into total darkness. 
The suddenness of it made her laugh. She thought it must be some kind of prank until all at once, a mono tone alarm started to scream. Lights began to strobe - harsh, bright flashes that instantly made spots appear in her vision. 
The word “fire” was popping up in the crowd.
Just as he was starting to register what was happening, murky water cascaded from the ceiling. 
The club was dissolving into chaos. Matthew snapped out of his reverie, and looked around for Taryn. 
“I have to find my sister,” he told her.
As Jessie's face was illuminated by the flashing lights, she looked stricken and worried. 
“I’ll call you, though!” he promised.
“But -” she watched him run off, knowing she hadn't given him her number. She didn't even know his last name. 
“Jessie!” Roger yelled from somewhere to her left. Her eyes roved for him, and landed when he shouted again, waving his cell phone flashlight in his own face.
She ran to him, and they followed the swarming crowd outside. 
To her complete surprise, smoke was pouring out of the building and the fire department was pulling up. She had been certain someone had pulled the alarm as a prank. 
“Fuck it’s cold out here,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself, as if that would do any good. Her coat was inside, a pair of wool tights tucked in one of the pockets. She'd planned to put them on in the bathroom before they left. 
“We should call it,” Lacey said. “Catch the next train. If we hurry we won't have to wait for another one.”
“But my coat’s in there,” Jessie complained. She hadn't made it, but she may as well have, she’d altered it so much. It was the best thing in her wardrobe. 
“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Roger assured, “but Lacey’s right, we should get out of here. We’re soaked and it’s below freezing.”
It wasn't just the coat. She didn’t want to lose Matthew. She hoped she might run into him in the parking lot, but had yet to see him.   
Roger and Lacey were right. Her wet clothing was already starting to freeze - stiffening and biting into her skin. Glancing around the crowd once more, she hoped she might see him, but there were too many people moving in too many different directions. 
As Roger pulled her away, she hoped against hope the universe would bring them back together. It had been so long since she'd felt a spark like she had with him.
“Who was that girl you were kissing at midnight?” Taryn asked, her tone suggestive as she waggled her eyebrows at her oldest brother. 
“Her name is Jessie,” he said, looking around for Brady. He finally spotted him with Emma and some of the Sens guys across the parking lot. 
“Seemed pretty serious.”
Matthew rolled his eyes. “We got on, that’s all.” 
“I’ve seen you look like that before, and that was not just getting on with someone,” Taryn argued. “I hope you got her number.” 
“I did,” he assured, then stopped dead in their pursuit through the crowd. 
Taryn ran into his back. “Matthew!” she complained. 
He was too busy digging his phone out of his pocket to apologize or move out of the way. Thankfully, it wasn’t ruined. As he opened his recent contacts, though, he found his fear confirmed. 
Taryn pushed on his back, “Matthew, move! I wanna get inside.” 
The older brother in him took control, wrapping his arm around Taryn's shoulder to lead them to Brady and finally into the car to go home. 
As they settled into the SUV, heat blasting to melt the ice that had formed in their hair and on their cheeks, Emma punched Matthew in the arm. “That was some New Year's kiss, Matty.” 
The disappointment of reality bit into him, and he snapped, “I don’t want to talk about it.” 
“Whoa,” Brady said in warning. 
Matthew leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. The possibility of her was still buzzing on his skin. 
The future was being ripped out of his grasp. How could so much hope be dashed so quickly? So completely? He'd been making plans in his head. Immediately, where they were going to spend the night if she was willing. Beyond that, how he would see her whenever he was in New York, and beyond that? Hopefully something that ended up with them together. 
“Oh no,” Taryn whispered, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. “You didn’t get her number did you?” 
He shook his head. 
“Oh, Matthew,” Taryn said, laying a hand on his back, “I’m sorry.” 
The rest of the night, he lay in Brady’s guest bedroom, Taryn in the bed next to his, and tried to relax. It wasn’t working. He could still feel the phantom of her grinding up against him, and if he thought about it too much, he got hard. 
Opening Instagram, he typed “Jessie” into the search. There were pages and pages of results. He scrolled through, hoping he might see her face. When the photos started to blur together, he clicked off the app. 
Feeling hopeless, he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Jessie’s face was etched on the inside of his eyelids. He saw her smiling, heard her laugh ringing in his ears, felt her lips so perfectly fitted between his own. They should have been tangled up in bed together. The actuality of his loneliness was a slap in the face every time he turned over. 
It was after four when he finally fell asleep.
He woke sometime around 10am when Taryn sat by his feet. 
“Mom wants to know why you’re still in bed,” she said when he sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. “I told her you were hungover.” 
“Thanks,” he said dryly.  
“Listen, I heard you last night.” 
His hands dropped and he gave her a suspicious look. “And what did you hear last night?” 
She took a deep breath. “I heard you crying.” 
A groan fell out of his mouth as his head tipped back. He didn’t even try to deny it. It hadn’t lasted long, the crying, but he hadn’t been able to stop it for a few minutes. He was sure Taryn heard his sniffling. 
“Is this about that girl?” 
“Listen, Taryn, I don’t want to -” 
She cut in, “Matthew, I saw the way you looked after you kissed her. It’s the same way Brady looks at Emma.”
Shit. He was in deeper than he thought. And they hadn’t even slept together yet. He didn’t even know her last name. If he knew her last name, he’d be able to find her. 
Letting his hands fall in his lap, he slouched over, and let the reality of what happened wash over him again. He would get over it eventually, but now? It felt too close to push aside. 
Taryn’s hand came to rest on his knee, “I was thinking, what if she left something at the club? I mean, people must have left coats and things with the fire alarm. We could at least try. See if you can leave your number for her, or something.” 
A spark of hope flickered to life in his chest. “Yeah, that’s a really good idea.” 
Jessie wasn’t too surprised to see the tent in front of the club when they pulled up. The post on their Instagram page said they would be available for people to pick up their belongings all day. Two women were sitting there, bundled up to the hilt. As she got closer, she saw the propane heaters. At least that was something. 
“How can we help you, darlin?” 
“Yeah, I was here last night, and I hoped I could get my coat that I left with the coat check?” 
One of the women stood, “what does it look like?” 
“It’s a black wool trench, and it has sort of wavy lapels,” she demonstrated on herself. “There’s a pair of gray wool tights in the left pocket.” 
She walked over to a rack behind their table.
The Club had seen better days, that was for sure. Some of the glass had been blown out from the heat, and there were charred bricks on the front from where the flames had licked out the windows. 
“Is it condemned?” 
“No, but it’ll take us a while to remodel, especially with the winter,” the other woman said, giving her a smile. 
“Did they find out what caused it?” 
“Not yet, but we’re pretty sure it was some faulty wiring.” 
“Here we go. Is this it?” The other woman, the one with pink hair, turned the coat around. 
Jessie smiled, relieved, “Yes.”
As she reached for the coat, she debated about the next part. What was the harm really? She knew she would be kicking herself all the way home if she didn’t. 
“I know this is a little strange, but I met someone last night, but we were separated before we could exchange numbers, and I wondered if he’d come by?” 
“I’m not sure. We’ve seen quite a few people today.”
“His name was Matthew, and he had curly hair, light eyes, and he was tall.” 
They looked at each other, each shaking their head. “I don’t think we’ve seen anyone like that today.”
She wasn’t sure what she would have done if they had. 
“Do you want to leave a note for him, or something?” 
She chewed on her lip, petting the smoke soaked coat draped over her arm. If he happened to come by, it might work. But what if he didn’t? Or what if some other guy with curly hair came by, and they gave him her note? 
She shouldn’t have even asked. It was fruitless. What did she expect? That he would just walk out of the building: here I am! 
“No,” she said, defeated. “I was just hoping.”
“Well, love has a way of coming back when you least expect it.” 
It felt like such a throw-away thing to say. “Yeah, I hope so,” Jessie said, turning back to her parents' car, parked in the lot.  
Matthew walked up to the women sitting in front of the club. He knew he was used to the Florida warmth by now, and just despised the cold on principle, but sitting out here? In this? They were nuts. 
“Hi, honey,” the older, motherly looking one greeted, “did you leave something here last night?” 
Yeah, my future, he thought. 
“No, I was hoping,” he reached up to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I mean, I met someone here last night and I was -” 
“Are you Matthew?” the other woman interrupted. 
His eyes shot to hers. “Yeah,” he said, breathless with anticipation. 
“Oh no,” the women looked at each other. One had her hand over her mouth. 
“Someone was just here looking for you.” 
Hope started hammering in his chest. 
“Pretty little thing, lovely red hair.” 
“Yeah,” his heart was running so fast he felt like he might be sick. 
“I’m so sorry honey, we asked her if she wanted to leave a note or something, but she decided not to.” 
Now he really was going to throw up. 
They had been so close. So close to meeting again. Why hadn’t she left a note? Why didn’t he just get her number last night? 
Because he’d planned on asking her for it in the morning. 
“Well, thanks anyway,” he said, hand falling limply at his side. 
“Good luck. I hope she finds her way back to you.” 
“Thanks,” he said, turning back to the car. Taryn was watching with rapt anticipation. He shook his head and her expression fell. 
**Nine Months Later**
For the first time since moving, the bright Florida sunshine didn't make Jessie smile as she got out of bed. That September morning, she woke up to an anxious fluttering in her chest, trying to tell herself it was going to be a day like any other. She would go to the shop and sew that new sculptural blazer for the window. She'd help Raul with his clients and do the same things she’d been doing every other work day for the past three months. 
It didn’t matter that some of the Florida professional hockey team were coming in for suits for the new season. She’d already checked, and there wasn’t a Matthew on the books. 
Even if he did show up, he had probably moved on. It was just her romantic streak that kept him alive in her memory. 
After a few miserable, sulky hours on New Year's Day, Roger had finally suggested she look him up. 
“I don’t know his last name, Roge.” 
“Didn’t you say he plays hockey in Florida?” he’d asked, pulling out his phone. He found a roster for her to look through - all men in blue, none of them Matthew. There wasn’t even a Matthew on the team. 
“I think it’s hopeless,” she said. 
“Hold on, there’s another one.”
“Another what?” 
“Another team.” 
“Here, I think this is him?” he turned the phone around and Matthew was staring at her, a smug little smile on his face. 
Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were blue. And his hair was a dark blonde, with almost a gingery tone to it. 
“Matthew Tkachuk?” she asked, trying to pronounce all the letters. It came out a bit of a garbled mess. 
“Look him up on Insta.” 
So she had. She found him easily. He was verified with over 150 thousand followers. 
She messaged him, hoping. 
Hey this is Jessie from last night before the fire stole our thunder. 
He’d never even seen her message. She had checked every day for a while, then every couple of weeks until she'd all but forgotten about it, moving on with her life. 
Pulling out her phone now, she scrolled down to the thread. The date was still staring at her, no read notifications in sight. 
Matthew wasn't even all that great. That’s what she told herself every time she went on another failed date with some guy so boring she wanted to just drop off the chair and fall asleep on the bar floor. If she let herself believe he really was as charming and interested and built just for her as he’d seemed, she would never go on another set up or app date again. It had been the alcohol and the rush of the new year that had painted him in such rosy light. It was likely he was just another boring dude like all the rest. 
The pink lace she put on under her clothes before going to work was for her, and she wasn’t hoping anyone would get to see it. 
She absorbed herself with structuring the new women’s blazer all morning until the appointment at 2. 
Matthew wasn’t entirely certain why he’d agreed to go with Benny that afternoon. He already had a suit guy in St. Louis. He didn’t need another one. But Sam was persuasive, a few other guys were going, and Matthew was always looking for something new. When you have to wear the same item of clothing over and over again, might as well make it something interesting. 
Walking into the little shop, he could see why Sam liked it. There were racks and racks of interesting fabrics. Subtle and bold patterns and solid colors he never would have considered for a suit before. 
As the other guys got to browsing, Matthew wandered over to the wall of photos. In every one, a short, dark haired man was posing with various people in beautiful suits. Sam was up there as were Barky and Bob. He didn’t know they came here too. Apparently, this was the place to be. 
Something rustled in the back, and he turned. Nothing was there, but a glass cabinet that housed a display of cufflinks. 
“Matthew?” 
His head shot up. 
A pretty young woman who wasn't in any of the photos was standing in the doorway behind the display case, holding up the heavy velvet curtain. He could see a row of sewing machines under her arm. She had on a blue skirt and a green blouse. A fabric flower was attached to her wrist, a porcupine of pins sticking out of it. 
His breath locked in his chest. She was here. In Florida. She was in front of him. The girl from the New Years Eve party he couldn’t quite convince himself to let go of for half a season and the whole summer. 
Her hair was shorter than it had been - ending at her collar bone - and a dark auburn red. He supposed it had probably always been that color. She had creamy pale skin with a dusting of freckles across her nose, and shit, had her eyes always been that green? 
He’d never seen her out of that harsh club lighting, he realized. Of course she would be prettier in the daylight. 
The murmuring behind him hushed into silence, and his mind went completely blank, as if he’d never had a thought in his life. 
“Hey,” he heard himself say. The shock of seeing her was so intense, he couldn’t remember her name. He’d just been thinking about her last week after another failed third date.
Sam shot him a questioning look.  
He was in shock. He was overwhelmed. He was… he was… he was acting like an idiot. 
His heart thundered in his ears. She was looking at him like she was trying to figure out if he remembered who she was. 
“Jessie,” she said hesitantly, pointing to her chest. “From New Years?”
Didn’t he remember? His face was branded into her memory. The dream of him - of them - roared to life in her chest unbidden. Her body reacted instantly, as if no time had passed. 
Right. Jessie, Jessie, Jessie, he thought.
Cool. He needed to play this cool. “Oh, hey,” he said. “How’ve you been?” 
As soon as it was out of his mouth, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Hope fell right off her face. He saw the moment it happened, and it sliced through him like a knife to the gut. 
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 
She wasn’t some old acquaintance he hadn’t seen in a while. She was the girl he kept coming back to. The one he thought about after failed dates or that relationship that started at the beginning of the summer only to fizzle out six weeks later. She was his, it might have been, girl.
The man walked in then, forcing her into the shop. “Ah, I see you have met Jessica. She just graduated from FIT in New York,” he bragged, “and is helping us expand into womens suiting. She’s also a marvelous tailor, so she’ll be helping with the suits as well. Jessica, these are the clients I was telling you about. From the ice hockey team. Good clients. They like interesting things.” 
She painted a smile on her face that almost looked convincing. “I can’t wait to help.” 
“You,” Raul said, “I don't know you.”
“Matthew,” he said, holding a hand out to the older Italian man. “Sam said you make the best suits on the eastern seaboard.”
Raul pulled out the leather bound book that served as his ledger, and flipped to the section Jessie had been looking at that morning, simply marked, Hockey.
“Last name?” he asked. 
He spelled it out, then pronounced it, “Tkachuk. The T is silent.” 
Raul nodded, noting the silent letter next to his name. 
“Jessica and I will take your measurements,” he said, gesturing him over to the plinth near the mirrors surrounded by dark wood. 
Jessie picked up a notebook and followed Raul. Matthew had definitely recognised her, he’d been shocked by her appearance, even. Then he treated her like…like a one night stand or an acquaintance he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to reunite with. It hurt more than it should have to have the things she was telling herself come true. 
She had hoped Raul would let her help the other clients, but luck seemed to be against her. At least he hadn’t handed her the tape. She didn’t know what she would have done if  her hands brushed against Matthew’s body. She already felt on edge just being in the same room as him. 
“Very important to get the thigh measurement with these hockey players,” Raul was saying as he threaded a measuring tape around Matthews upper thigh. “Big legs.” 
“It’s from all the skating,” Matthew said, almost out of habit. 
Jessie was doing a very good job of not looking at him. She had a little notebook in her hands and she kept her eyes trained on it as she wrote down every body part and corresponding number Raul called out. Upper thigh, lower thigh, calf, hip to knee, knee to ankle. Matthew had been measured like this before, so he just stood still and let the man do his work. 
“So, Jessie, right?” Josh asked, leaning onto one of the mirrors, nearby where she was standing, not quite in Matthew’s peripheral vision. 
She hummed in agreement. Raul was still calling out numbers to her, and she couldn’t divide her focus that well. 
“What brought you all the way down to Florida from New York?” 
Matthew clenched his jaw to keep from telling Josh off. As much as he wanted it, he didn’t have any claim over Jessie.
“Um,” she said, still jotting numbers. She spared a glance at him. He had long, unruly, dark hair, dark eyes, and a goofy smile. She smiled back, “can you give me just a minute to finish up here?” she asked, pointing at Matthew’s stomach with the cap of her pen. 
Josh blushed, “yeah, of course.” 
She went back to her notebook, face impassive once more. 
Josh stayed where he was. 
“So Chucky, what do you think about the schedule this year?” 
Matthew shrugged, then snapped himself back into place at Rauls reprimand. “Sorry,” he mumbled. 
Jessie gagged internally. hoping that wasn’t really his nickname. Chucky was either a possessed doll, or a possessed rat mascot, neither of which she liked to think about for very long. 
They continued to talk about something with their team. When she and Raul finished, she handed the notebook off to him, which he would transcribe into the ledger. He still didn’t trust her to do it the way he liked. 
Matthew didn’t move off the plinth, but she turned to the other man, “sorry, what was your question?” 
She sounded so polite, so formal. Sure, they’d only met that one night, but she hadn’t been guarded like this at that club in Ottawa. He supposed that was probably his fault. God, why was he such an idiot?
“I wondered what brought you to Florida. It’s a long way from New York.” 
“Oh, the heat,” she said. “I was so tired of the north-east cold.”
“And you know Raul…”
“He and one of my mentors are great friends, and he got us in touch. I have some family down here, and wanted to live somewhere warm for a change. Raul wanted to expand into some womenswear, and tailoring happens to be one of my specialties.” She said it without much emotion. Just stating the facts. “We met, I made him and myself a suit to audition, and here we are.” 
Matthew opened his mouth to say something about how he was glad she was here, but she walked away before he could force the words out. 
Josh gave him a look that said something like, women, right? 
Matthew walked away before he said something stupid.
“While I update the rest of your measurements, Jessica can help you with fabrics. She’s excellent with color. Jessica, why don’t you get the samples and help them pick out what they need.” 
She nodded, went into the back and came out with five big binders. She set them on the table, and flipped some of them open. 
She helped Reino pick out a dark teal, a blue and a few subtle plaids before moving on to someone else. 
Matthew was the last at the table. 
“What are you looking for?” she asked, trying to keep her voice and demeanor level. No need to let him know how her heart still pounded just looking at him when it was so obvious he didn’t care about her. 
“I'm always looking for something interesting,” he said. “What would you suggest?” 
Her eyes darted up to his face. His eyes were so blue - much more intense in person. He had the kind of eyes poets say hold summer skies and glacial lakes. It was the first time she really saw them, and they took her breath away. 
“Well,” she forced herself back to work, “you could pull off almost anything with your coloring. How adventurous are you?” 
“I’m willing to try anything once,” he said, trying to sound flirtatious. It just came off desperate. 
She chewed on the inside of her lip. “How many suits are you looking for?” 
“Eight,” he said. 
He didn’t need eight suits. But if it kept him at this table for longer, he would buy as many as she would sell him. 
“All for here?” 
“For here?”
“To be worn here, in Florida? The others have mentioned needing some for travel.”
“Oh, I’ll need three or four for travel, three at least for the cold.” 
They talked through colors. She opened a binder she hadn’t given anyone else. None of the other guys were as handsome, or seemed as adventurous with their style as Matthew. 
“If you’re brave enough, I think this lilac would look really good on you,” she said, pulling the pastel fabric sample off the board and holding it up. He was more bronze than he had been when they’d met, but it would still look good when his summer tan faded. 
“Okay,” he said. He trusted her style. He’d never worn lilac, but if she thought it would look good, he’d give it a shot.
Jessie got the feeling he was just agreeing with her to get this whole thing over with. Still, she couldn’t help pulling the best fabrics for him, even an expensive light blue linen blend that would make him look like Brad Pitt in Santorini. He didn't balk when she mentioned the price. He didn't even seem to notice. 
“Chucky, how did you know Jessie?” Bennet said as they walked down the block to the public parking they’d all met at. 
“A party,” he said, trying to sound non-committal. 
People got into their cars, but before Matthew could leave, Benny came up to his driver's window. “You wanna tell us what’s going on?” 
“You’re never this quiet,” Reino said from his place on Benny’s left. 
Matthew sighed and got out of the car. This was going to take a while. Sam had always been a bit of a brother to him and he knew he wouldn’t let him go without an explanation. 
“Jessie and I met last New Years Eve,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the hood of his car. 
“Okay, and what did you do? Hookup and never call her again?” 
“No!” He sounded too defensive, even to his own ears. 
Reino raised an eyebrow, “so what happened?” 
His hands raked into his hair so he didn't have to look at them as he told the story. “We met at this club in Ottawa, and we had this amazing connection. I've never felt anything like it before. Like, boom: Instant chemistry.” It felt even worse to say it out loud. 
Both guys just waited. 
“But the club caught fire.” 
“Wait, what?” Benny asked. “Really?”
“I know, man,” Matthew said, throwing his hands up, “and I thought I had her number, so I left her to find Taryn, but I didn’t, and I couldn't find her after. I didn’t think I was ever going to see her again, and then, all of a sudden she was here,” he gestured in the direction of the shop, “and I just…” 
“Fucked it?” Benny asked. 
“Yeah.” 
“So go back and talk to her,” Reino said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. 
He scoffed. “What would I say? ‘Hey, sorry I completely forgot your name and treated you like our connection didn't matter, but I actually haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for the past nine months?’” 
“Better than not saying anything,” Benny said. 
Matthew shook his head, “I can’t go back in there.” 
“Why not?” 
“You didn’t see her face. There’s no way she wants to talk to me.” 
A few weeks later, Jessie was piecing Matthew’s jacket from the blue linen in the back of the shop. The fabric was so light and delicate, she couldn’t even have music going while working with it. One wrong move and there would be pulled threads all over the place. She knew Raul would disapprove, but she gave herself twice the seam allowance to make sure she could finish the inside raw edges. Otherwise the fabric would start to pull apart - eventually, quite literally, fraying at the seams. 
“Uh, hello?” someone asked. 
She jumped and dropped the scissors. She let them clatter to the floor with a curse. She’d been so focused on the task at hand, she hadn’t heard the bell ring. 
“One second,” she called, before securing her pattern with an extra pin, picking up the scissors and coming out to the sales floor. 
“Hi, sorry about that. I got kind of in the zone. What can I do for you?” 
It was one of the hockey guys. The one with strawberry hair. She couldn’t help but glance around him to see if he’d brought anyone with him. 
She shouldn’t even be looking for Matthew, especially considering he'd ignored all of her phone calls about his suiting. All the same, seeing him again had awoken her longing in a way she couldn’t quite tamp down. 
“Raul said I had some suits he wanted me to try on,” he said. 
She asked his name, then went to the back to retrieve the garment bag. She remembered this one. She’d convinced him an oxblood red wouldn’t look too harsh with his coloring, and she was hoping he would like the results. 
Giving him a pair of pants, she left him in the changing room while she cut extra threads on the inside of the jacket.
Immediately, she could see the pants were a smidge too loose. They talked about his preferred fit, and he avoided looking at her as she pinned the inner thigh. All men reacted this way, but to Jessie, this was all about the garment. As far as she was concerned, he was a mannequin under these clothes. 
Finally, the questions that had been ruminating in her mind got the best of her. “So, did Matthew get traded or something?” 
“Chucky?” he asked, surprised.  
“I guess so.” 
“No,” he was laughing as he said it, “he has seven more years on his contract.”
“Oh.” 
“Why?” 
“I’ve just called him a few times about measurements, or fittings, and he’s never called back or come in.”
“Really? He told me he was here yesterday.” 
Of course he was coming in on her day off. Why had she even told him that in the message?
She stood up, and moved onto the jacket after asking him if he ever planned to wear it with a sweater. He wasn’t sure. Or if she should shorten the sleeves. He liked them a little longer. 
“Chucky told us what happened in Ottawa,” he said. 
Jessie felt her shoulders tense, but kept working. “Yeah?” she asked, not daring to look up. All this still felt too close to the surface, and she didn’t want this man she barely knew to know how much it had hurt when Matthew brushed her aside. 
“Yeah, he said he looked for you after the fire.” 
“I tried to stay, but my cousins and I were soaking wet and it was below freezing so we had to catch the train.” 
“He said he went back the next day and you’d been there, but didn’t leave a note.” 
That made Jessie gasp. Audibly. She blushed and tried to brush it off, “I was worried it might go to the wrong person,” she said, “plus I messaged him on Instagram and he never responded.” 
He hummed, debating the best way to approach this. He wanted to do some digging without letting on that’s what he was doing. “He said you guys had quite the connection.” 
Was she really going to go into this with one of his teammates? She hadn’t talked to anyone about it but Roger. Words bubbled up into her mouth so fast, she guessed she was. 
“Yeah, we did.” God, why did she have to sound so moony?
“Do you think there’s still something there?” 
“He made it pretty obvious there’s not.” 
“I don’t think he meant to do that. He was pretty shocked to see you.”
“I was shocked to see him too, but I didn’t just brush him aside.” 
“Listen, Jessie - it’s Jessie, right?”
She nodded.
“Matthew can be pretty thick. He gets so in his head, sometimes he doesn’t really think things through, but he told us what happened, and how much he liked you, and he said he fucked it and you wouldn’t want to see him again.”
She hummed, and got him a new suit to try on. She’d been right. The oxblood did look killer on him, like he could be in a GQ shoot. He looked impressed. 
“Would you want to see him again?” Sam asked. 
“If he came in here himself?”
He nodded. 
“I’d at least give him a chance.” 
Even though she would usually just move on, she’d never felt anything like the instant connection she and Matthew shared on New Years. It was the kind of thing she thought only existed in books and rom coms. Experiencing it in real life made it into something she couldn’t just walk away from.  
They talked about where they were from and made comfortable small talk for the duration of the fitting. She told him how relieved she was when Raul trusted her enough to run the shop by herself one day a week. 
“Listen, I’ll tell Chucky to come by next Wednesday. We’re leaving for the opening roadie that day, but I’ll try to get his head out of his ass before then.” 
She giggled. 
He could see why Matthew liked her, and could see how their personalities would match up well. She was kind and easy to talk to - quiet at first, but got louder as she got comfortable, and Chucky was just loud all the time. He could tell they both valued relationships more than things. 
The next week, after their final practice before the season opening road trip, Benny cornered Matthew in his stall. “You need to go see Jessie.”
“She doesn't want to talk to me, man.”
“The way she asked me about you last week would say otherwise.”
He scoffed. 
“I told her you still like her -”
“You what?!”
“She brought you up first, and you weren't doing shit, so don’t tell me I'm ruining your plans or some bull. She said she's called you a bunch of times, but you only show up when she's not there.”
“It's just easier,” Matthew mumbled. It wasn't his fault she told him when she'd be gone.
Benny rolled his eyes. “Dude, wake up. She still likes you.” 
Matthew looked at him, skeptical, “she told you that?” 
“Yes, but she didn’t need to. The first thing she asked me was if you’d been traded. We weren’t even talking about you.”
 A ridiculous amount of hope lit up his face.
“I knew it! You still like her too!”
What’s not to like? Matthew thought.
“She runs the shop on Wednesdays. Just go talk to her.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I went there last Wednesday, dumbass. She told me.” 
Matthew hesitated, still unconvinced. 
“Go. Now. I’ll drive you myself if I have to. I’m sick and tired of you moping around when there’s such an easy solution to your problem.”
“Okay, okay. I’m going,” Matthew said, holding his hands up in defeat. 
“And check your instagram. She said she sent you a message.” 
Usually when she walked onto the sales floor after the doorbell dinged, Jessie would have to search for someone among the racks of fabric samples and ready to be tailored suits. This time, a man was standing at the counter, watching her with the same determined intensity he’d shown the first time they met.
He was here. Finally. Four of his suits had been sitting in the storage room for more than a week, further proof that he was avoiding her. 
“Hi Matthew,” she greeted hesitantly. 
“Hey Jessie.”
They looked at each other in awkward silence for a moment. 
“Can I help you with something?” 
“Yeah, Raul told me some of the suits were ready?”
“They are.”
“I just came to pick those up.” 
“Oh,” the tiny spark of hope fizzled out again. Sam must not have made it through to him. 
She looked instantly downcast. 
To hell with it. He couldn't make any more of an ass of himself. “And I wanted to see you,” he blurted.
“You wanted to see…me?” she repeated, pulling a pen from her ponytail to start fiddling with it. He didn’t know why, but it struck him as such an endearing gesture. 
“Yeah,” he said, heart falling. Was Sam setting him up? He was a prankster, but not to this level, usually. Not when it was this important. 
“Why would you want to see me?” she asked, feeling that guard go up. Every time she got her hopes up about Matthew, he tore them down.
Thoughts raced through his mind. He could lie so easily, but where would that get him? It was time to just own up and blurt it out. Her reaction be damned. “Because I really like you.”
She looked surprised. Way more surprised than he’d expected. “I thought you didn’t remember.”
“How could I forget?” he asked. “I thought you must hate me since I forgot your name and acted like such an ass that first day.”
Shaking her head, Jessie wondered how on earth they got into this situation. “I mean, I was disappointed, but then, you backed it up by never coming to the shop when I was working, I thought you must be trying to avoid me.”
“I was.”
One of her eyebrows shot up.
“Not like that,” he floundered. “Like, I couldn’t stand to see you and remember how well we got on, and how much I like you, and how pretty you are when I knew I'd blown my chance and you hated me.”
She let out a laugh. “That makes no sense. What did I ever do to make you think I hated you? I called you every time something was finished, or we needed a new measurement. I gave you the best fabric selections.”
Had that been because she liked him? “I don’t know, it did in my brain. I guess I was so embarrassed I forgot your name when I like you so much, I was telling myself you must be angry with me.”
Jessie rolled her eyes. “You know, Matthew, for someone so smart, you can be pretty dumb.” 
“You think I’m smart?” He’d been called many things in his life, but smart was rarely one of them. 
“Yes. I think you’re very smart, except when it comes to romance, I guess.” 
He chuffed a laugh, grabbing the back of his neck. “I really fucked this one up, didn’t I?” 
“I don’t know,” she said, trying to be cool and hoping against hope that this last shot would land on target. If it didn’t, she was kicking him out and scrubbing him from all her memories. “I think you might still have a chance.” 
His eyes snapped to hers. “Yeah?” 
She nodded. 
Heart pounding, but trying to keep that flirty, cool skin on, he walked around the counter to remove the barrier between them. 
Knowing he still liked her brought all those feelings from the club rushing back. She’d never felt like that with anyone else. If only he knew how many times she’d replayed that night. How many times she remembered how he felt and how no one had ever kissed her like that, or swept her off her feet so quickly.
“Play your cards right,” she said, feeling breathless with the nearness of him. “And I think you might get another chance at bat.”
As he leaned in closer, her pupils dilated, and her eyes darted to his mouth. He licked his lips just to see her force her eyes back to his like last time. Her blush was even more adorable in the daylight.
“If I swing, what are my odds of getting a home run?” 
She laughed. It didn’t break the spell. It turned out that palpable chemistry was still between them, just waiting to be ignited. Their eye contact was hot and glued together.
“Maybe not today,” she said, “but I think it’s a safe bet that you’ll get on base.” 
Time moved in slow motion as he leaned in further, looking at her mouth, then her neck, then her cleavage, barely visible through the two undone buttons of her starched, white shirt, before snapping back to hers as she stopped him with a hand pressed tightly to his chest.  
“We can’t do this here. There are cameras on the floor,” she said. 
His head dropped forward in defeat. “I have to leave for Vegas in two hours,” he said, feeling more than a bit desperate. “I really don’t want to wait until I’m back.” 
“I don’t want to either, but I’m telling you, if Raul catches me making out with a client, I’m going to be out on my ass.” 
“So what do we do?”
She thought for a moment before an idea struck her. “Follow me.” 
She made a big show of walking into the back, digging his new lilac suit out of the garment bag and hanging it in the private dressing room. “You go in there. When I come back and ask you how it’s fitting, you need to tell me something needs to be adjusted and invite me in, okay?” 
“Right. Yeah, okay.” 
She put out the sign that said she would return soon and locked the front door. It wasn’t that unusual to lock up when they were helping a high profile client, anyway. Plus, Wednesdays were always the slowest day of the week, hence why she was allowed to man the shop alone. She just hoped Raul wouldn’t have any reason to review the tapes. 
Her whole chest felt like it was full of helium as she walked back to him. Were they really about to do this? 
“Everything going okay in there?” she asked. 
“Something’s wrong with this suit jacket,” he said. “Can you come take a look?” 
Upon entering, she found Matthew with his shirt already off.
Sweet Jesus, she was not prepared for that. For his sculpted body, and his chest hair, that tapered into a thin trail running down the center of his abs before it dipped enticingly into the waistband of his pants. 
“That’s not fair,” she said. 
“What’s not fair?” he reached for her and drew her to him, hands splaying over her waist.
“You’re already half naked,” she said, eyes wandering down his chest again. 
“You could be too,” he teased, playfully pulling at the shirt tucked into her waistband. He didn’t actually pull any of the fabric loose, which she appreciated. He was letting her set the pace.
“Damn, Jessie. You’re the only woman I know who can make a pant suit look sexy.” 
She laughed, and pulled the whole shirt over her head, leaving her in a white camisole, a black lace bra peeking out from underneath it. 
“Do you always wear black lingerie to work?” he asked, voice gone husky as he ran a finger under one of the straps. 
“Only when I think you might come in.” 
His eyes snapped to hers, thrilled but questioning. 
“Sam told me he was going to try to get you to come by today.”
“So this really is for me?” he felt dizzy with the prospect.
“No. It’s for me. I put it on this morning, thinking that at the very least if you came in and you were an ass again, you wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing how hot I look in my bra,” she said, before stripping off the camisole so he could see exactly how hot she looked in her bra. 
Seeing her, in black suit pants, a gold belt buckle flashing at her waist, and her sheer, floral lace bra that plunged between her breasts, the breath was sucked out of his lungs. 
His ongoing ache for her intensified, pressing insistently against the confines of his jeans. 
He stepped toward her when she once again stopped his progress with a hand to the chest. “I really like you, Matthew,” she said, swooning a little at the happiness that lit up his face, “but I was serious. I don't want to have sex.” 
“Can you define that a little more?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Like you don't want oral sex, or…” 
She wouldn't have guessed oral sex would even be on the table. She practically had to beg past boyfriends for it. 
“I mean I don't want to have penetrative sex. The first time with someone new is hard enough. I don't want to make it more complicated by taking a bed out of the equation.” 
“I get that. Plus, it'll give me something to look forward to when I get back,” he said with a grin and a cheeky wink. 
God, maybe they really were made for each other. 
As his left hand slipped to the back of her neck, the other spread over her rib cage, thumb brushing against the soft lace that cupped her breast. 
She sucked in a breath, letting her hand ghost up his torso over the ridges and valleys, until her fingers hooked over his shoulder. The other slid around to his back.
It felt like it had been a million years since they’d last done this. Not the touching, not the skin to skin, which felt like…it felt like heaven, but the longing. 
Jessie was looking at him with that same hope and lust in her eyes. It made his stomach twist with that same wanting to fulfill them both. 
It was so long coming, he wanted to savor every movement, every breath, every glance. Her eyes were so green. Somehow even more green up close. 
Finally, when their lips met, she sighed, melting against him. 
This was all together more intense and less hurried than their first kiss had been. It was a slow burn, a thorough seduction, a fulfillment of everything Matthew had been dreaming of that night they lost each other. 
When he pulled away, their heavy breaths crashed together. 
Fingertips sliding up her back, he tried to memorize the feel of her. Her skin was so soft. 
Jessie was growing impatient. Any other moment, she would love this slow seduction. Most of the time she felt like men moved too fast. Today though, she had so much sexual frustration built up for him that the weight of desire was already heavy between her legs. 
Taking matters into her own hands, she leaned in and trailed her mouth along his jaw before nipping the soft spot behind it, just under his ear. He shuddered when she soothed it with her tongue. 
“I’ve been dreaming of this for so long,” she confessed, barely above a whisper.
That snapped him into action. Taking her waist, he pulled her flush to him, and crushed his mouth to hers. 
There was the passion she’d been looking for. 
As they surged together, she felt so restless and turned on, she tried to hook a knee over his hip in an attempt to slot him between her legs. 
Groaning against her, his hand slid over her rear and down her leg to keep it elevated and wrapped around him. 
Kissing her was so much better than he remembered. How was that possible? She was so good in his dreams. In reality, she was living - flesh and bone and wanting - and he couldn’t get enough. 
Moving to her neck, he sucked her pulse point. He felt her tremble against him, but her hand still came up to pull him back to her mouth. “Nothing visible, okay? I have to go back to work.” 
He nodded and caught her lips. It might be too late for that one, but he wouldn’t do it again. 
Her desire was a wildfire, consuming every part of her. It wanted to consume him, too. 
When she tucked two of her fingers behind the button of his jeans, a moan fell into her mouth. 
“Okay?”
“Yeah.” 
She tore the zipper down, and palmed him through his boxers. His hips jumped into her hand as a moan ripped from his throat.
His fingers fumbled to her belt buckle and paused. 
“Please,” she whimpered. 
He was clumsy with desperation and the distraction of her kissing and biting his neck, but he finally got it open and her pants undone. 
The weight of the buckle sunk the waistband to the floor with a heavy clink, and Jessie stepped out of it, kicking off her shoes at the same time. Sinking her hand into his pants, she shoved them down his muscular legs. 
He nearly fell over in his attempt to get out of his shoes so he could free himself from the shackle of the fabric around his ankles. 
Jessie giggled, and moved with him as he stepped away. He finally got his first look at her in her underwear. Made of some fabric he couldn’t name, they were also black and cut high on her hip. He could see it was a thong in the mirrored wall behind her. 
His jaw grew heavy with longing, but managed to make his mouth work enough to tell her, “you’re so beautiful, Jessie.”
“Thank you. I think you’re really handsome.” she said, running a hand down his chest. And he was - he could be a living sculpture in the Greek wing of the Louvre with his curly hair and sculpted body. 
Sliding his hands over her hips, he pulled her to him once more. He hesitated for a moment, and Jessie took charge, too impatient to wait. “Matthew?” 
“Hmm?” 
“I really appreciate you getting my consent, I really, really do, but you can just move forward. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” 
“Okay.” 
She captured his mouth again and the fire roared to life between them, stoked hotter by so much skin touching skin. 
Sneaking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he pushed them down, trusting that she would stop him if she wanted to.
She didn’t want him to. 
His fingers traced back up her leg and when he stroked her, she broke from the kiss to let her head lull forward onto his shoulder. Her panting breaths were the stuff of his dreams. She was already so wet, and he wanted nothing more than to bring her pleasure. 
“Oh,” she moaned when he explored more, running a couple of rough fingers from her entrance to her throbbing bundle of nerves. She rocked into his hand, and he took the hint, caressing her over and over again until she was trembling and moaning. 
“Matthew,” her voice was wrecked: desperate and thick with longing. 
“What do you need?” 
“Your fingers,” she begged, “inside me.” 
He obeyed, following the rhythm she set. Pressing the pad of his thumb to her clit, a wicked, self satisfied smile took over his face as her head tipped back, and her breath hitched. 
He rutted against her thigh in an attempt to pacify some of his own lust. 
“Oh,” she moaned, “just like that.” Her hands slid to his arms, clinging to his biceps. 
He wanted to eat her pleasure for breakfast - sustain himself with it on long, lonely nights. He knew he would dream of her voice and all her little sounds through the whole ten days away, anxious to come back to the very actual reality of her. He kept having to remind himself this wasn’t a dream.
Body shaking, she cried out. 
Feeling her core pulse around him again and again, the release was so long coming, it seemed to go on forever.
Matthew continued to stroke and leaned in, kissing her right through her orgasm.
As her breathing finally slowed, he eased his fingers from her. 
“Oh my god,” she said, still clutching him to stay upright. “I’m so pissed we had to wait nine months for this.” 
Laughter barked out of his mouth.
When she could make her hands work, Jessie pulled his hard, hot length from his boxers, and stroked a few times. 
His mouth fell open, and he panted, “it’s bullshit, right?”
“Such bullshit,” she agreed, devouring the pleasure that washed over his face.
“Wait,” he said, grasping her wrist. “I want this to last.” 
“You already got me off,” she said. “What do you need to wait for?” 
“I'm not going until you've come at least twice. What's the point of women being able to have multiple orgasms if I can't give them to you?”
That was some flawed logic, but she allowed him to pull her hand away. She wasn’t going to say no.
“Can I taste you?” 
“If you want,” she said hesitantly, as if he might be pulling some kind of prank. She'd never had a man offer to go down on her first.
“I do want,” he said, guiding her to lean against the mirrored wall and sinking to his knees. “I've been wondering how you taste since we met.”
Maybe that oral fixation all the girls talked about online was actually true.
“Can you put your leg up here?” he asked, sliding a gentle hand to the back of her knee, and lifting so the joint bent around his palm. He guided her foot to the stool. 
When he looked up at her, his blue eyes shining with excitement, she retraced their steps to get there. Not even ten minutes before would she have expected to end up with Matthew Tkachuk eating her out in the back dressing room. 
“That feels okay?” he confirmed, palm stroking back up her thigh.
God, he was even making sure she was comfortable. Her whole body fluttered in anticipation. “Yeah,” she breathed. 
Every other time a man had given her oral, they were fast and sloppy, obviously trying to get it over with as soon as possible. With Matthew, he seemed to be dragging it out for his own pleasure, tasting and teasing like he just couldn’t get enough. He was driving her crazy - winding her tighter and tighter. 
“Matthew,” she moaned. It was better than any of his dreams. Better than any fantasy. “More. Please. More.” 
She felt his lips briefly curve into a smile against her before he really got to work. Licking with the whole flat of his tongue, then flicking with the tip, he was suddenly everywhere. 
Her hand scrambled for purchase on the wall behind her. Met only with the slick mirror, her fingers fumbled into his hair, searching for anything to hold on to. 
He groaned into her, almost as if in pain.
“O-okay?” she asked, voice shaking as she attempted to loosen her grip.
When she felt his response but couldn't hear it, it took all her willpower to push him away. She was not going to hurt him, especially when he had been so insistent on her consent. She could feel his hard breathing rushing over her and it set her skin to trembling. 
“Okay?” she asked again. 
“Good,” he assured, eyes flicking up to meet hers. “I'll let you know if you pull too hard,” he said with a wink before diving back in. 
Her head thunked back against the mirror. He really was made for her, that was the only explanation. 
 God, she was perfect. She tasted like paradise, like water in the desert, like his favorite meal after a long period of fasting. She satiated his every craving. 
Pleasure began to tingle low in her pelvis. It loosened her hips and turned her legs to putty. She'd never had a man take this much interest, let alone put so much effort into her pleasure. She moaned something unintelligible, even to her own ears.
His competitive drive growled into a higher gear, demanding to please her until she whimpered and begged. He licked and sucked and spelled his own name with his tongue, gauging where she liked to be touched most. 
“Matthew,” she moaned. “Oh my god, Matthew.”
He slipped a finger into her, and she cried out. Her hand tightened in his hair when he added another. 
A whimper on every exhale, she panted, trying to keep some semblance of control. It shattered when he gently kneaded her g spot. 
Pleasure thundered low in her belly, and she was forced over the cliff, glad to know Matthew would be there to catch her fall. Her vision turned hazy as she crashed. Time and space exploded into nothing more than shadowy constructs. She heard herself shout as if listening from another room.
When she came back to herself, Matthew was still languidly tasting her folds, one of his forearms braced over her hips to keep her upright. 
Pushing him away from her core, she tried to catch her breath. 
As he sat back, he wiped his face with his free hand. The satisfaction of pleasing her rumbled contentedly in his chest. 
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I fucking love you.” 
He laughed, a look of delighted surprise on his face.
The reality of what she'd just said hit her and Jessie covered her face with her hands, “oh my god. I can't believe I just said that out loud.”
“That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me during sex.” 
Relief sunk into her bones. Soul mates. They had to be soul mates. 
A few moments later, she finally found her feet and pushed away from the mirror.
“Alright,” she said, reaching for him and wrapping her fingers around his erection. He stumbled toward her, anxious to feel more. 
She smoothed the precome leaking from the tip onto the shaft with her thumb. “I think it's my turn to taste now.” 
Matthew wasn't entirely sure what he'd expected her to do, but lowering to her knees in front of him right away hadn't been at the top of the list. He expected her to jerk him off for a minute, maybe kiss and tease him a little. Not that he was complaining. If she was willing, he'd gladly accept. 
“Do you like more suction or more mouth?” she asked before licking the underside of his shaft. 
Oh God.
“I dont - I don't care.” He wasn't sure he was even going to last long enough for it to make a difference. He felt so close to the surface already. 
“You don't care?” she repeated, sitting back on her haunches to look up at him. 
With her mouth off of him, he could explain his reasoning a little better. 
“Frankly, I've been dreaming about this for so long, I could almost bust just from seeing you on your knees.” 
She was flattered and also a little relieved she wasn't the only one. 
“Okay,” she said as she reached up to pump him a few times. “Something we'll figure out later.”
The fact that she was thinking about the future, too, made him weak. 
Her lips wrapped around his tip, tongue caressing, and he was right there. 
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 
“Jessie,” he moaned, “god that feels good.”
Was it the best blow job ever? Objectively no, but it was Jessie, so it felt more important than any that came before it. He felt like he was fifteen again, getting his first head, amazed by everything and having no restraint. 
“I'm - I'm gonna come,” he moaned, trying to pull back so as not to come in her mouth. 
Jessie would rather have it in her mouth than all over her, so she gripped the backs of his thighs to keep him in place. 
“Oh, fuck.” How could she possibly be this perfect? 
She sucked and caressed and he exploded with a long low groan. 
She kept licking, albeit more gently, until he pulled back, sensitivity making it too much to bear.
“Holy shit,” he said. The room felt muggy and he felt content in a way he'd been longing for since they'd lost each other. 
“Yeah,” she agreed. 
He helped her to her feet, and pulled her against him, wanting to feel her close. 
A while later, her phone, which had fallen out of one of her pants pockets, buzzed and the time flashed. 
“Shit! I have to go,” he said, scrambling for his clothes. “I still have stuff to pack!” 
“When’s your flight?”
“In an hour, but I have to drive home and then to the airport.”
They rushed to get their clothes back on. He hated seeing her bra disappear under the camisole again. 
As soon as he was dressed, he grabbed her jaw and kissed her. Her hands floated from tucking her shirt to cup his face. 
He'd just had her, but the wanting roared back to life as soon as she touched him, as if his body was trying to remind him what was possible between them. Like he could ever forget. 
“This was so amazing. I promise I'll take you on a real date when I'm back, and I'll call you while I’m gone,” he said. “I'm sorry I have to dash out of here.”
He kissed her again, hard and purposefully, before rushing out of the dressing room. 
“Wait!” she chased him onto the sales floor still tucking her shirt, “my number. You need my number.” 
“Oh my god,” he slapped a palm to his forehead. “I can't believe I almost left without it again!”
She giggled, “you're not getting away from me this time.”
They exchanged numbers and Matthew raced home. 
He rushed to pack the last of his things, grateful for the example his dad set, in always having a base bag packed the day before a road trip just in case something came up. 
He was the last one on the plane, a first for him.
“Chucky just got fucked!” someone yelled. 
Matthew felt his cheeks get hot. His hair was probably wild from Jessie's hands, and he could feel the love bite on his neck, a sure sign it would soon be a full blown mark. 
Reino met his eyes and raised a brow. Jessie? he mouthed. 
Matthew nodded. 
He wiped the back of his hand over his brow in mock relief. 
“Oh thank God,” Bennett exclaimed from across the aisle. “I thought I was going to have to lock you two in a room until you got together.”
Matthew laughed. 
When he got settled, he sent Jessie a text. Just on the plane, but I'm missing you already. I'm back on the 14th, so pencil me in for that date. 
I have you in for the weekend. We have a lot of time to make up for. 
Fanciction Masterlist
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burst-of-iridescent · 2 months
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I’ve been reading a series where a guy is in a near identical situation to Katara was in The Southern Raiders. But what I find interesting is that no one really tries to stop him and the fandom considers it completely justified. I can’t help but think despite it being two different series and fandoms that Katara’s gender has at least something to do with this. When a male character wants to seek revenge and kill the murderer to do it, the narrative and fans justify it but when it’s a female character she’s vilified, seen as out of control and letting her emotions get the better of her. I hate when people say Aang was right to say what he did and try to stop Katara from making her own choice. It doesn’t help that we know Bryke is misogynistic based on well everything to do with their female characters post series after they didn’t have the talented writers who actually understood the characters helping them. And sure I know Bryke themselves didn’t write The Southern Raiders but we know from script leaks that there were more shippy Zutara moments that were cut and I think we know who’s to blame for that. So I wouldn’t be surprised if they still influenced the more problematic parts of that episode. Such as Aang and Katara never talking about or resolving their conflict, Sokka calling Aang wise beyond his years and never talking about or resolving his side if things with Katara, and even Zuko weirdly agreeing with Aang at the end that “you were right about what Katara needed.” Even though she literally just told Aang a second ago that he was wrong and she would never forgive him and doesn’t know why she couldn’t kill him. If you couldn’t tell I have rather mixed feelings about TSR episode.
Sorry for the ramble. How do you think their conversations (Katara, Aang, and Sokka) would go if they were to talk about it all after the episode?
oh misogyny definitely plays a part - just compare the way people react to inigo montoya from the princess bride vs katara in tsr - but i think the bigger issue is the overt narrative framing of the episode.
on a first watch, tsr appears to push a very simplistic idea of "violence = bad" and strongly favours aang's perspective, which encourages the viewer to see him as being in the right while katara and zuko appear to be in the wrong. the fact that aang never changes his perspective and both zuko and sokka are (forcibly and very uncharacteristically) made to take his side by the end naturally inclines the audience to do so as well.
it's only with a closer reading that you see a more nuanced take which highlights the flaws in aang's thinking and treatment of katara. katara herself makes it clear that what aang wanted her to do would not have helped her find closure, and she began her healing process without ever forgiving yon rha - which is exactly why i hate people attributing her decision not to kill yon rha to aang when she explicitly stated she did not and would not ever do what he wanted her to!
these are the same people who will also blame zuko for being a "bad influence" on katara, as if the only reason she hunted down her own mother's killer is because zuko convinced her to do it. katara isn't some weeping willow to be bent to the will of zuko and aang; her decisions are her own, not based on the whims of the boys in her life. can we please stop stripping katara of all her agency in the one episode that actually focuses on her trauma and healing?
rant aside, i do wish that katara had talked to sokka after this episode and i imagine there would be some apologising on both sides. sokka - a realistic sokka, because my god was he wildly out of character - would probably check in on her and admit that he was afraid for her safety and well-being. katara would likely apologise for the "you didn't love her the way i did!" remark and i think it would've been nice for them to finally talk about kya and for katara to bring up the conversation she overheard from the runaway about how sokka confessed to seeing her as a surrogate mother.
(imo the impact hearing that would've had on katara was largely downplayed in the show, and is likely part of the reason she reacted to sokka the way she did in the southern raiders, but that's a post for another time.)
the katara-aang conversation would probably have gone the same way that it did in canon, because the issues with their dynamic in tsr are part of the underlying problems with the kat.aang relationship in general. i would've liked to see aang have a little more of a reaction to katara saying she never forgave yon rha (he doesn't seem affected at all in the show), and for that to maybe prompt him to really reflect on what he said.
but ultimately what really has to be tackled here is aang's idealization of katara and his focus on clinging to air nomad values at the expense of those from the other nations - and those problems run too deep to be fixed in a single episode or conversation. the southern raiders would have been a good starting point, but unfortunately the finale never engages with these issues, and so what could've been a great arc ends up going nowhere at all.
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utilitycaster · 4 months
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I do wonder if the nature of Vax's deal with the Raven Queen has made people imagine the gods as more transactional than they are, because I don't think that's the case, and specifically I think Orym went to Morri specifically because he knows this and knows she will make a concrete deal whereas the gods are unlikely to make a similar guarantee. Vax is actually a weird edge case exception, borne of the specific resurrection rules and the drama and details of the scene (in the Raven Queen's sunken temple, by the body of her former champion, a specific offer to the goddess of death of a life for a life) - and even then, she didn't take his offer the way he expected it, asking for a life of service instead of simply ending his life then and there.
When we look at the player characters who have received favors from the gods, this has largely happened in-game through player choices but not necessarily as part of a deal (the favors in Campaign 1; Fjord's relationship with the Wildmother though that does involve a paladin oath as, well, paladins do; FCG's worship of the Changebringer) or it's been part of the backstory as dictated by the player (Pike, Jester, Caduceus, Yasha). The only example where it simply happened, that I can think of, is Orym's sword, and that was a relatively minor boon (and he'd spoken to Melora before during EXU Prime as well).
Meanwhile, the messages characters have received from the gods this campaign have only come with either deities they already had fostered a relationship with (Deanna and the Dawnfather/FCG and the Changebringer) or have come from the players specifically opening that line of communication by going to the temple - Kord communicating with Imogen is the first instance of a god talking to someone who didn't speak first, and he does not actually ask anything of her so much as say he respects the storm vibe and if she betrays his worshipers he'll take action. The only people who have actually explicitly asked for action (do not let Predathos wake) are gods speaking to clerics who worship them; the Raven Queen has only offered broad visions and has not actually asked anything specific of the party, and has even provided answers to them unrelated to the current situation. Fearne's received portents from both the Raven Queen and the Wildmother for personal questions she's asked.
The gods can provide power - that is a fundamental aspect of D&D, just as one's bloodline or specific knack for music can provide power - but they rarely make specific deals. Even paladin oaths are nebulous and indeed don't even require a deity; cleric relationships have conditions but they are usually a very broad "do not actively go against the principles I, as an embodiment of concepts, embody." The transactional power? That's warlocks. There's a pact. You do what I say or I take the powers away. (Obviously we've seen a god serve as a patron, but the pact and paladin oath blur in that case - there's never been the punishment/reward system in Melora's patronage.)
With all that in mind, Orym's deal with Morri does not feel like a rejection of the gods, but rather a good understanding of how they operate vs. how a hag does.
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runabout-river · 5 months
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The Mechanisms of Nobara's Return
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The Setup
Her injury is the smallest transfiguration Mahito made without interference
This injury didn't kill Nobara instantly
Nitta used his CT to stop her from dying
Affirmation that Nobara has a chance of survival even if that chance is less than 1%
This setup itself is the biggest indication/confirmation on a meta level that Nobara's return will happen. Because otherwise, Gege wouldn't have written it like this in the first place or he would've written later scenes about her death more explicitly.
Nobara is the female lead of JJK and is often compared to Sakura from Naruto in that regard. I find it hard to believe that Shonen Jump would let Gege discard that lead so early in the story. It would also be an unpopular decision to replace the female lead with another female character (Maki) even for Shonen standards.
Temporarily replacing one on the other hand, is a decision I can see happening. I'm no expert in this but it's known that editors keep the number of female characters low in their titles in SJ. Gege most likely wanted to do something shocking as well, so this a course of action many would be fine with.
If Nobara's death had been meant to be final then not only in the story but also outside of it we would've gotten definite confirmation on it. Instead, I don't recall something like that being said. In story and outside, we have this wishy-washy Schrödinger's Cat situation going on.
Her injury
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Idle Transfiguration cannot be healed with positive energy or any other means
That's because positive energy doesn't recognize damage to the body if it's in the same shape as the soul
At this point, her death was suspended in a similar fashion to how Megumi's death was suspended inside his exorcism ritual
This suspension can theoretically be kept up indefinitely as long as Nitta can use his CT
A popular theory in this regard, is Nobara learning Reverse Cursed Technique while at death's door.
Nobara is a Black Flash user, her use of cursed energy is more refined than that of the average sorcerer
Her learning RCT would parallel Gojo learning it after being sliced open. For her, it just takes longer
Having to use RCT constantly would also mirror Gojo, bringing her narratively closer to her teacher after being the one most distant from him
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Her Return
Why did Megumi say she was dead?
Theory: because Shoko told him that she was dead:
Because Shoko thought it cruel to keep the hopes of Megumi and Yuji up. She still wasn't finished to try and save her though
Shoko was afraid of the higher-ups interfering in her treatment after Yaga was executed
Having Megumi believe that she died also makes Sukuna believe that she's dead, which makes her comeback unforeseeable to him.
Why don't we see her in the flashbacks?
To keep up suspense. But do you know who else we don't see in the flashbacks? Todo. And that guy isn't even dead.
What is she doing now?
We have some possibilities for the flashbacks:
Learning to function under her RCT
Learning to function on Nitta's CT
Training/secret missions with Todo
Recovering with her grandma/learning to use new forms of her own CT
For the current fights:
She's waiting her turn
Popular theory is that Nobara will use Resonance on Sukuna's last finger. If she does this too early, she will explode. My favorite way for her to do this is like this:
Utahime and Gramps will enhance her CT and she will attack Sukuna's finger right at the moment when Sukuna attacks Yuji to kill him, mirroring the Mahito scene.
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Which are the instances where her death wasn't made explicit?
We never saw her corpse
She wasn't at the airport
No one talked to Gojo about her death, they only talked about Nanami
Only Megumi and Yuji talk about her death. The second and last time about Hana potentially replacing her
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I think this is about it about Nobara's Return. If you have questions, I will answer.
...
I lied.
There is a way to heal Nobara.
And the person who's going to do that is Megumi.
Megumi will have to infuse one of his shikigami with Mahoraga's Adaptation ability
The Adaptation doesn't happen with CTs, it happens with phenomena
A transfigured body and soul is a phenomenon
After the adaptation, Megumi can order his shikigami to reshape or reverse the transfiguration
This Adaptation to Idle Transfiguration also has a second use: stopping the merger (or reversing it).
Kenjaku used Mahito's IT to change Tengen's barriers. If I remember correctly, he will use IT again in the future or the effects of IT will be relevant later on. And that's when Megumi will have his biggest role.
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slayfics · 5 months
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Explosive Tendencies a slow burn fanfic about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.
Chapter four: You study with Katsuki.
Chapter links
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With the completion of the internships, the end-of-term tests were coming up. You sat at your desk studying but couldn't help but wonder how your classmates were doing.
Everyone had gone into a frenzy in class about meeting up to study and being prepared. Multiple students had planned to go over to Momo's since she was at the top of the class. But since you weren't explicitly invited, you didn't want to show up. You still hadn't really connected too much with your other classmates.
You also overheard Eijiro and Katsuki make plans to study at a diner today. Fuck it I'll show up there, you thought. Katsuki did kind of owe you for fixing his hair anyway. Worst case if they seemed super irritated by it you could play it off as if you were just going to that diner regardless. That seemed a lot easier than randomly showing up at Momo's house considering you hadn't even spoken to her much yet.
You made your way over to the diner and almost as soon as you entered you were greeted with an overly enthusiastic "Hey!" that made you jump.
Eijiro had spotted you right away and waved at you to come over. Katsuki turned around with his usual annoyed expression to see who Eijiro had so openly invited to their table.
"Oh it's you," Katsuki mumbled.
"Hey, how's the studying going?" You asked, making your way over to their table.
"Uh, not so good," Eijiro laughed. "Bakugo's trying his best but I think I'm hopeless. Sit down and join us!" He said, smiling at you.
You reluctantly sat down next to Eijiro feeling a bit anxious. Aside from the times Katuski had snuck into your room, this was the first time you had spent outside of the classroom with any of your classmates.
"I'm kind of surprised you're not at Yaoyorozu's with everyone else," Eijiro stated.
"I wasn't really invited, and I didn't want to just invite myself like everyone else," You replied.
"You had no problem inviting yourself here," Katsuki said, looking up at you from his book.
You felt frozen, guess you didn't pull off pretending to just accidentally come to the same diner.
"Ah don't be so mean Bakugo, maybe they can help me. I know you are at your wits end with me," Eijiro said, laughing.
"Yeah whatever," Katsuki grumbled.
"Now that I think about it, I guess I really haven't seen you hang out with the others much," Eijiro stated curiously.
You're face flushed at his words, was it really that obvious that you hadn't befriended anyone in your class? "I uh.. well..." You stuttered trying to figure out how to answer him.
"Hey dumb ass, are you going to chat their ear off all day or are we going to study?" Katsuki barked at him.
"Right! Let's get back to it then," Eijiro said, focusing back on his book.
The three of you studied for almost the whole day. It surprised you to see how intelligent Katsuki was, his delivery was always harsh though. He'd get frustrated easily when Eijiro couldn't pick up on something right away, but you were able to explain in a calmer manner and that seemed to help.
Although, it did still take Eijiro an extended amount of time to fully understand concepts. With the sun going down you three decided it was time to finish up.
"Wow, ok I feel prepared for the written test now! I'm just worried about the test exercises," Eijiro said.
"It'll be fine shitty hair, you worry too much. You'll both do fine, and I’ll finally be able to show everyone how worthless that nerd Deku is and how much better I am than that Icyhot bastard," Katsuki replied.
You sighed, “Bakugo I already told you- I’m pretty sure everyone knows you would have beat Todoroki regardless of him using both sides or not.”
“Hm?” Eijiro looked at you both curiously. “Told him before? You two have hung out before?” He asked.
Your face flushed at Eijiro’s correct assumption and you weren’t sure how to respond. It seemed a little suspicious to say the truth- that Katsuki had snuck into your room three times now.
“Don’t be so nosy dumb ass,” Katsuki grumbled at him.
“Oh right-! Sorry! Anyway… Maybe the test exercise will be a team exercise and we'll get paired together or something! After today I'd say the three of us make a good team," Eijiro said smiling.
You smiled back at him unsure of how to respond to so much positivity. Katsuki just rolled his eyes at Eijrio.
It was striking how night and day it was between Eijiro's cheery demeanor and Katsuki's quick temper.
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Tags: @unofficialmuilover @anon-mouse223
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