#predictive shop search

[larrylimericks]

8Nov22

An article in syndication— A chance to reach new populations! On new music? You’d think. No, these 200 links Share Lou’s “parenting’s hard” revelation.

[johnbrand]

Kickin' it Straight!

SuckMcDick69 has gifted you Kickin’ it Straight! Downloading now…

Puzzled, Mason clicked on the notification. He had no idea what game his console was installing, nor who this “SuckMcDick69” person was. His only guess would have been that it was Mick, the repulsive, 30-something hetero next door. But Mick despised Mason and his boyfriend Corey, particularly after they had submitted that noise complaint a while back. There were only so many feminine moans and repeated bed-frame slammings into the wall that the couple could handle.

But looking at the game, it seemed legit. Even a quick Google search confirmed this. Sure Mason did not know where the gift was from, but what was the harm in playing it anyway? The couple had a date night planned but Corey would not be home for another hour. And Mason had already taken a shower. His slim, shaved body still glistened with a few drops and his wavy fringe was still too wet to style. So, without a second thought, Mason decided to launch the game.

“Kickin’ it Straight!” had a simple premise: land the ball into the miniature goal on the other side of the map. However, each kick was incredibly uncoordinated, curving in random directions so that the only way to win the game was to punt a perfectly-straight shot. Each attempted shot earned the player in-game currency, either beer can tabs or the super rare single dollar bills. With these, one could save up and purchase bonuses to straighten out their intention. 

The graphics were decent and the gameplay fine, but this was not Mason’s usual style of game. He was surprised at its addictive quality, having soon racked up enough can tabs to purchase a bonus. +10 MUSCULATURE! Almost as if delivered directly from the game through his controller, Mason felt a tingle of excitement crawl along his body. That added muscle was definitely going to help straighten him out! 

With a slightly stronger grip, Mason began kicking again, noticing his aim had barely improved. He assumed the game was structured purposefully for players to dedicate time in order to complete it. So Mason saved a little longer, waiting until he could purchase two upgrades at once. With another +10 MUSCULATURE, Mason could practically feel his abdominals hardening with elation, but he also secured a +5 HEIGHT. He stretched his buzzing arms and legs, kicking the latter set up onto the futon and spreading them across the cushions.

Now able to rack up more can tabs, Mason was soon hoarding a good amount of cash. Previewing the shop, he ended up selecting three different bonuses. He grabbed the final +10 MUSCULATURE and +5 HEIGHT to round off those two categories. After completing an additional challenge, Mason also earned a +15 ANDROGEN. He did not know what that meant, but he did not care. Mason did however notice the tingling sensation in his lower half again, but after scratching at his furry legs he disregarded it, his feet now hanging over the edge. 

Suddenly, a big hoop presented itself to the left of the goal, offering dollar bills if Mason scored the shot. Thanks to his bonuses, he could better predict the angles of his kicks, allowing him to punt it directly in on the first attempt. Immediately he ventured into the shop, purchasing +5 CLEATS out of the three options assuming he would be supplied with better shoes. Navigating out of the shop, Mason subconsciously rubbed his feet together, seemingly ticklish as they thickened and plumped into much larger soles.

As he continued on, the amount of bonuses Mason had available began to change, each checking off as his aim shrunk narrower. +10 MATURITY, +20 VIRILITY, +25 CONFIDENCE. Eventually he no longer processed what he was purchasing, obsessively venturing back and forth from shop to field to check each item off. +20 POWER, +20 AGGRESSION, -10 INTELLIGENCE QUOTIENT, -20 INTELLIGENCE QUOTIENT, -30 INTELLIGENCE QUOTIENT. 

Near the end, Mason only had two more bonuses to purchase, both only attainable with dollar bills. Scratching between his crew cut and scruffy beard, it took him a few moments to realize he could purchase both. REMOVE HOMOSEXAULITY DISADVANTAGE, INSTALL HETEROSEXUALITY ADVANTAGE. With this came a purchase animation, showing Mason’s character placing the dollar bills into the waistbands of busty, oversexualized cheerleaders. He groped himself casually, feeling his juicy man meat grow hard. 

Once it was finished, he was put back in the game for the final shot. With pure determination, Mason kicked the ball straight down the line into the goal. Obnoxiously, he shouted out a booming, abrasive victory cry for everyone in the building to hear. Everyone would now know that Mason was "kickin' it straight!"

After closing the game, Mason received a notification on his phone. It was from Mick next door, asking him to come over to discuss something. Without a second thought, Mason got up and left, not even bothering putting some clothes on. He was promptly greeted at the next door by a man of similar size, stench, and sense.

“Sorry I'm late, honey!” Corey announced a while later once he finally arrived home. Looking around, he was surprised at how empty the apartment looked, as if it had recently purged. His eyes momentarily went vacant, processing something, and then reanimating.

Who was he calling "honey?" He lived alone, unlike the two dickheads he could hear shouting at their game next door. The pair were like twins: both twelve inches taller, ten years older, and a whole lot manlier than Corey. The traditional moral contrasts were somehow even starker than the physical differences. With a sigh, Corey just hoped he did not have to file another noise complaint–something warned him Mick and Mason had the means to retaliate.

[sp1rit-realm]

༻¨*:· 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 remus is used to the same day, and then you come into his life.

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 please give me some grace. i havent written a full on fic in... a hot second 𖦹 record shop owner!remus x fem!reader (she/her prns) 𖦹 sirius uses he/they prns 𖦹 also. reader moves to england so she doesnt have british accent. yeah. 𖦹 lily evans being the best 𖦹 FLUFF (everyone cheered!) 𖦹 [brief] ANGST (everyone cried!) 𖦹 not proofread

༻¨*:· words ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 2.7k

Routine—a very familiar word to Remus. His days were the same. Wake up, go to work, go home, shower, then sleep. He ate the same thing for breakfast and the same thing for lunch. Dinner was the only thing he frequently changed—maybe one day, he would have pasta, and the next, he would have chicken. He hung out with friends on Saturday, and they went to the same pub every time. The topics were usually the same. Sirius met someone new, someone they claimed to be "The One," only for that person to leave their life. James usually talked about training, Lily, and updates on her pregnancy. Since school ended, things had become... predictable.

You walked into the rickety old record shop, intent on finding your favorite album. It broke on the move to the UK, and you needed it desperately. 

Upon hearing the bell ring, Remus looked up. It was part of his routine—to see who had entered his shop—and there you stood, tote bag in hand with messy, windblown hair.

After searching through the Rock section for ages, you practically squeal when you see the album.

Remus looks up as you walk to the counter, "Hi." 

"Hi," You smile. Your accent throws Remus off, and he smiles. 

He looks at the record, then puts it down, "We have this in a white vinyl," He says, "I— I didn't mark it as colored, so you probably didn't see it. I can go grab it for you?"

You eagerly nod, "That would be fantastic!"

He stands, and you realize how tall he is—it's like he's towering over you.

A moment later, he returns with the other record, "They're hard to come by," He scrawls something on the record sheet, then rings up the album.

You thank him and pay, leaving him to wonder if you'll be back.

The next time you see him, he's with a pretty girl. She's got bleached blonde hair and a cute button nose. She's beautiful. Of course, you recognize the tall man—how could you not? He and the girl make their way to the counter; they both order.

"For Remus," A woman calls out. 

Remus—that's his name.

Remus steals glances at you the entire time he's at the coffee shop.

"Who's that?" Marlene asks with a coy smirk.

"I don't know. Came into the shop a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh, so you have a little crush." Marlene is full-on smirking now.

Remus goes red, "What? No." He shakes his head, "No," He repeats, trying to reassure himself that he doesn't have feelings for you.

"Sure," Marlene mutters, taking a sip of her drink.

Remus rolls his eyes.

About a month passes by until you see one another again. You walk into the shop. Remus looks up when the bell rings, and he smiles.

Sirius is there today, and they go up to you.

"What're you looking for?" 

You answer, and he leads you to the section as if you don't know the alphabet. He doesn't mean it that way, you know that. 

Still, you tease them about it, and their face goes stark red, "Sorry. I just— Sometimes record shops can be confusing in how they order things. Like, when it goes from 'C' to 'D,' does the 'D' section continue on the other side, or does it continue straight across? You know?" 

"I'm kidding around," You smile, "I've been here before. Granted, it was just once, but I know how it works. Thank you, though."

"But of course," Sirius curtsies, "Anything for you..."

"Y/n," You introduce yourself.

"I'm Sirius. Like the star," He clarifies, "Like, that's my name. S-i-r-i-u-s," They spell out.

You giggle, "Nice to meet you, Sirius."

"Nice to meet you. I love your silly accent, by the way."

"You're the one with the silly accent," You shoot back.

"Not when my accent is outnumbering yours."

You tilt your head and hum, "Strangely, I understand what you mean."

"It'd be concerning if you didn't."

"Do you frequent this shop a lot?" You ask, flipping through albums.

"My friend is the owner." Sirius shrugs.

You perk up, "Remus?"

Sirius quirks their brow, "You know him?"

You get hot, "No."

He narrows his eyes, "So, how do you know his name is Remus?"

"Well," You whisper, "I came in a while ago. He was really nice when I checked out. Then, a couple of weeks later, I saw him at a coffee shop, and they said his name when his drink was ready."

"You're a creep," Sirius raises his eyebrows.

"No!" You argue.

"Such a creep." Sirius begins walking away; you rush to follow him, "I'm telling him." He says.

You begin to panic, "Wait! No!" 

Sirius keeps walking to the front.

"Sirius," You whine, "Stop!"

"Remus!"

You silently will him to stop.

"Remus!" Sirius calls again.

"Lovely lady over here has something to tell you," He smirks.

If looks could kill, Sirius would be six feet under.

"I just– um–" You sputter out, "I just wanted to thank you for helping me with the record last time I was here."

You swear he blushes, but you don't want to look to find out.

"It was no problem," He smiles, "Maybe I could give you a call if any of their other records come in?"

Sirius smirks from the sidelines.

"Um..." It takes a moment to process, "Sure." You nod assertively, "Yeah. I would love that!"

Remus's world has turned upside down—you keep him on his toes. He stays up because, maybe, you'll call tonight. You eat lunch with him sometimes, and gone are the days when he eats the same thing every day. Gone are the days when he closes up shop at 7:00. Gone is routine.

"Do you want to have dinner tonight?" You ask, wrapping the cord around your finger.

"I'm actually going out," Remus responds. You frown, and your imagination runs wild. What if he's going on a date?

"Hello?" He asks, and you realize you've blocked him out.

"Huh? Sorry?"

"I asked if you wanted to come with me. You can meet my mates. If you want." He spits out. Saying it once is nerve-wracking enough; saying it twice is terrifying because what if you say no? What if you don't want to meet his friends? What if–

"I'd love to!" You cut his frantic thoughts off, and his heart swells.

"Really?" He asks.

"Of course!"

So, now, you're standing in front of a random pub, wondering if he's pranking you. It's been about five minutes, and you know that's not a long time to wait, but your anxiety is getting the better of you. 

Then, five turns to fifteen, and you're wondering how pathetic you look.

"Y/n?"

Your head whips to the door, "Sirius? When'd you get here?"

Sirius checks their wrist like they're checking a watch, "'Bout half an hour ago. Did the dimwit not tell you to meet us inside?"

You shake your head, "He said to meet him at the bar. So, I guess he didn't quite specify." You shrug.

"Well, come on in," He holds the door open for you.

You thank Sirius and look around for Remus. He's not hard to spot, and Sirius jogs over to their booth before whispering something into Remus's ear. He looks up and smiles brightly.

"You're here!" He exclaims.

"You're here." You say, tone almost scolding him. 

Sirius whispers something else to him.

His face drops, "Oh... sorry for not telling you to meet us inside." His mouth quirks to one side in a guilty expression.

You smile, "It's okay. I forgive you." You sit next to him.

"Oh, thank god," He rests his hand on his chest, "A pretty girl being mad at me would've been my death."

Heat blossoms in your chest.

"So..." James begins, "Now that flirt time is over, can I say hello?"

"Ha!" Sirius barks out, "Flirt time!"

Remus gets warm, "This is James, another one of my school friends. James, this is y/n."

All James says is: "You're his lock screen, y'know?"

Remus kicks him under the table.

"I mean–" James smiles, "Hello, it's nice to meet you. I have never seen your face before."

"Smooth," Sirius whispers to James.

You smile at Remus's red face.

"Ignore him, please?" He begs.

You nod.

Sirius and James tell you embarrassing stories about Remus for the rest of the night, and the boy starts to regret introducing you to them as a pair.

 At the end of the night, he drops you off. 

Rubbing his face, he sighs, "I hope they weren't too much."

You smile brightly, and Remus feels like he could fall to his knees, "I had an amazing time. They're really fun, Remus."

You leave him with a kiss on the cheek—he puts his hand up to the spot and smiles the whole way home.

"I've missed you," You say into the phone.

"I've missed you, too. You should just let me come over." Remus begs for the umpteenth time.

"I don't want to get you sick," You frown, "That would be horrible."

"It wouldn't be the end of the world. We could quarantine together," He smirks, "I could make you soup, and we could cuddle together on the couch and watch some ridiculous rom-com."

"Take a girl out on a date first!" You joke.

"I would if you weren't so busy being poorly." Remus groans.

"So you're asking me out on a date?" You smile and do a little happy dance.

"I guess I am."

He's smug, and you can tell.

A week later, you sit in a fancy restaurant—the kind where the prices aren't even on the menu. Remus is fidgety. He's wearing his nicest button-down, and you think it looks funny on him. He gets red at your comment and looks down at the table with pursed lips.

"I just meant that I'm so used to you wearing those comfy sweaters. You look good, though." You earnestly smile at him.

"You look nice tonight, yourself."

"Well, I'm going on a date with this charming boy. I wanted to impress him."

"I hear he's very impressed."

You insist on paying, but he won't let you. As soon as you pull out your wallet, he snatches it from you.

He kisses you before leaving you at your car, and you don't want it to stop. It's soft and tender, and it's everything you hoped it would be. 

One date turns to two, which turns to five, and now you're anxiously pacing in your flat. You're dating Remus; you have been for a few months, and you're not sure when it's an appropriate time to ask the question, but you'll ask tonight. Except Remus doesn't come. He doesn't call, either. 

After an hour of worrying, you call Sirius.

"Hello?" He answers—it's obvious he's high.

"Hi. Do you know where Remus is?"

Sirius laughs, "Right here."

"Can I talk to him?"

You hear rustling as Sirius passes the phone.

"Hello?"

"Remus," You whine.

"Hey there. What's going on?" He's calm—too calm. He's also high.

"You were supposed to come over tonight." You frown—it's a fruitless effort. He can't see you.

"Shit. 'M sorry, baby," He frowns, too. You can hear it.

"'S okay. I was just really looking forward to seeing you." You dramatically slide down your wall into a crouching position.

"I'd come over, but, y'know," He wanders off.

"You're so high you can barely walk?" You offer.

He takes it, "Yes."

"It's alright," You sigh, and Remus feels terrible, "Promise you'll come over tomorrow?"

"Promise," He answers.

But then tomorrow comes, and Remus has yet to show up. So you dial his number, but he doesn't pick up. An hour passes until your phone rings, and you're anxious and giddy and hopeful as you pick it up.

"Sorry." Remus's voice is gruff, and you can hear the guilt in his tone.

"It's okay. You can still come over. It's not too late."

"No," He sighs, "I'm sorry, but I can't... I have to break up with you."

Your face drops with your stomach, "What?"

"I can't be with you. I'm— I'm sorry."

"No!" Tears blur your vision, "You can't just tell me we're over. Explain yourself!"

"I just can't do it anymore. It's too hard."

You choke out a sob, "What's too hard? Loving me?"

"No," He sighs, and he sounds tired, oh so tired, "I'm incapable of giving you what you need."

"And who gets to say what I need?"

"Y/n, for your sake, I'm ending this. I can't provide for you in the way you'll need me to."

"Remus," You sigh, "I don't understand. What do you mean you 'can't provide' for me?"

"I can't emotionally be there for you. I'm sorry." 

And as you hear the dial tone, you let your sobs out.

You feel empty. Your only friends are Remus's; now you feel like you can't talk to them. 

"You're daft," Sirius scolds, "Y/n was lovely, and you break up with her over the phone?!"

Remus hangs his head in shame, "Yeah, I did."

Then Remus looked up and was met with one of his worst fears. He'd been on Lily Evans's bad side more than once, but never like this. He'd only seen this stare a handful of times, but not once was it directed at him, until now.

She marches over to the booth, never breaking her stare, leans close to Remus, and slaps him, "You twat!" 

He doesn't know what to say, so he holds his cheek and waits for her to continue.

"You hurt an exceptionally lovely girl for what?! Because you're insecure? Because it was too scary to feel loved so deeply? That girl gave you her all, Remus! And this is how you treat her?" Lily's face is red at the end of her rant, and Sirius tries to hold in their snickers.

Lily narrows her eyes at Remus, "I can read you like a book, Remus Lupin. I know what's going on in that magnificently stupid head of yours! Go apologize to her!"

"I can't," He murmurs, "I've already ruined it."

She rolls her eyes, "You won't know unless you try, and not knowing will eat at you, and you will die confused, sad, and alone."

"She has a point," Sirius agrees, "I mean... we all know you'll just mope around until we push you to talk to her, but by then, it'll be too late. She will have found somebody, and they'll get married, and you'll just be that bloke from when she moved here. Go talk to her."

"What do I say?"

It's almost midnight when a knocking at your door wakes you. Groaning, you get out of bed and make your way to the door.

You undo the bottom lock, keeping the chain in place.

"Yes?" You peek through the crack, surprised to see Remus holding flowers on the other side.

"I'm sorry."

He thinks he's surely blown it when you close the door, but he hears the chain clanking as you fully unlock it.

"What are you doing here?"

Remus wants to cry at the sight of you. Your eyes are bloodshot and puffy, with red tracing your waterline.

"I—" He has a whole script planned out but seems to have forgotten every word, "I have flowers," He settles on.

"For me?"

He nods.

"What are you doing here?" You ask again, taking the flowers.

"I'm here to apologize. I was a dick the other day."

You tilt your head, "You mean the other day when you broke up with me?"

Remus almost doesn't catch the sarcasm, "I'm sorry. I get so caught up in my head—"

You turn from him, "Come in," You mutter as you walk into your kitchen.

He closes the door behind him and toes his shoes off, "I get scared when I let somebody get too close."

"Tea?"

"Yes, please."

He watches as you move around your kitchen, grabbing cups and boiling the water. He's missed you.

"Why let me get close at all, then?"

"Because I like you."

You turn and look at him, "Do you, now?"

Remus sighs, "Look, I fucked up, I know that. Do you think we can try again?"

You walk over to him, "You said you can't give me what I need. What does that mean, Remus?"

"I'm unfit to be with somebody."

"I don't think so. You were wonderful the past three months. So wonderful that I think, if you work on yourself, we can give this another go."

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, leaning in.

"I look terrible," You laugh.

"No," He rests his forehead against yours, "You're always beautiful."

"Kiss me." 

hi guys sorry if this is bad😇😇

my lovely mutuals <33 @sepptember @violetteshoneybee @ay0nha @maroon-winestain @prongsio @imabee-oralizard @storyofaromance @queerpumpkinnn @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @zvdvdlvr @reysdriver @g1rld1ary @starsval @vampieteeth @maddipoof @bruisedboys @ell0ra-br3kk3r

[lees-chaotic-brain]

JJK Men Getting Jealous

Feat. Gojo and Megumi

CW: Random guys being creeps, harassment, attempted kidnapping (or so he thinks), reader has female pronouns and anatomy, light swearing

Part Two | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

Gojo Satoru

The two of you were enjoying your date at the park when Gojo received a phone call. Normally, he would have ignored it, but you forced him to, telling that he needs to take care of his responsibilities. After all, you loved Satoru as he was, but the man needed to grow up a little.

Stepping away, he turned his back and answered the phone, immediately trying to weasel his way out of whatever assignment he was needed on.

Meanwhile, you were seated on a bench and scrolling through your phone when a street photographer approached you.

"Excuse me?" A young man was looking at you hopefully as he held up his camera.

"I'm a street photographer, and well, when I noticed you sitting here I just knew I had to capture your stunning looks for my portfolio. So would it be okay if I took your picture?"

Flattered, but a little uncertain, you replied.

"Well, thank you, but actually I'm just waiting for my boyfriend-"

He cut you off.

"Oh don't worry! This will only take a second!"

Stepping up to you, he reached out and brushed your hair back with his fingers.

"What-what are you doing?" You ask nervously, leaning away from his touch.

"Just brushing your hair back from your face! Can't have it covering those stunning features of yours now can we darling?"

He winked cheekily.

Finally finished with his call (he had managed to dump the assignment onto the three first years), Gojo turned around, ready to bask in your presence and affection.

Instead he witnessed an unfamiliar man moving his hands to your chest brushing off your shirt and smoothing the fabric.

Pausing, he took a moment to try and comprehend what he was seeing.

Then he saw you flinch and swat his hands away.

He was by your side in an instant.

"Please stop." You said firmly. "My boyfriend-"

"Is right here!"

Gojo interjected cheerfully, swinging an arm around your shoulders and using his other arm to push the photographer away as he sat next to you.

"Why don't you take a picture of me and my girlfriend?"

He suggested menacingly, looking at the man over his glasses.

"After all, don't you think we make an absolutely stunning couple?"

Needless to say, the photographer snapped a couple quick pictures of the two of you before speeding away.

"Thanks 'Toru."

You said, sighing in relief once the man was finally out of sight.

"No problem! After all, he was touching my boobies."

To emphasize what he was saying, he turned and buried his head in your chest.

He peeked up at you with puppy eyes.

"These are all mine, right?"

"Of course babe."

You laughed, and stroked his hair.

"They're all yours."

Megumi Fushiguro

While the two of you were shopping with Nobara and Yuji, you saw something that interested you and you wandered off.

Noticing that you were missing, Megumi split off from the others, and went to search for you.

Finally finding you, he couldn't help but to smile a little, because you were just so damn cute.

You were happily wandering around a manga store quietly humming to yourself as you browsed.

Moving to join you, he was shocked when a guy around the same age as you guys snuck up behind you and put you into a chokehold.

Were you getting kidnapped in front of him? He was speeding up, ready to give the guy a beatdown he wouldn't soon forget, when you flipped the guy over your shoulder.

The guy twisted gracefully midair to avoid being slammed on his back, and landed smoothly on his feet in front of you. You shot your arm up, ready to strike, but the guy easily caught your wrist.

"I told you to stop using that move, it's too predictable."

The guy said, shaking his head at you.

Pausing, you looked up at the guys face for the first time.

"TAKESHI?!"

You shrieked his name, and launched yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"You big dummy! What was that for?! You scared the shit out of me! But never mind that, I missed you! What's going on? Why are you here?!"

Laughing he spun you around.

"Whoa. Slow down. I missed you too idiot. I missed my sparring partner and was just checking to make sure that you were keeping up with your training!"

He batted his eyes innocently as he set you on your feet.

"After all, my mom would kill me if I left her beloved unofficial daughter unable to defend herself in the big city! What if you got mugged?!"

Unable to suppress your smile you pinched his cheek.

"You just did that because you wanted to scare me. Jerk."

"Aw, you know you love me."

"Ahem."

You both turned to find your unimpressed boyfriend staring at the two of you with his arms crossed over his chest.

Striding over to you, Megumi wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side, giving the other guy an once over.

"I'm Fushiguro Megumi. Her boyfriend. Who are you?"

Takeshi gave you a fake wounded look.

"What? But I'M her boyfriend!"

Blinking at him, Megumi frowned.

"What?"

Stepping out of Megumi's grasp, you walked over to Takeshi and cuffed him over the head.

"STOP TELLING PEOPLE I'M DATING THAT YOU ARE MY BOYFRIEND!!"

"BUT I AM!!"

"YOU ARE LITERALLY GAY!"

"AND!?"

"AND YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND OF YOUR OWN!!"

Poor Megumi just stood there in shock. After the two of you worked it out with a quick wrestling match (you won) and stopped screaming at each other. You and this "Takeshi" explained that you were childhood best friends, and that Takeshi was just a jerk who liked to mess with your love life.

Needless to say, Megumi spent the rest of the day pouting, and needed lots of reassurance cuddles that he was way better than Takeshi, and you would never leave him for him.

"You would never leave me for him, right?"

"Of, course baby. He's just a friend. I love you so much more than him."

"But you love him a little bit?!"

"GUMI. HE IS LITERALLY GAY AND HAS A BOYFRIEND."

Thanks for reading! Should I make a part two with Toge and Yuji? Let me know!!

[littleplantfreak]

Chatterbox pt. 2 - SFW

Here's part 1 with everyone else

Togame Jo - If it's you, he lets you talk for hours. Anyone else, he prefers to keep it short and sweet. Choji'll start listening in and ends up putting you on speaker when they're at the Ori, but he gets embarrassed if Choji bring up the name he has for you in his phone. It's either some cutesy form of your name or a nickname like bunny or babe with emojis. "Togame why do you have hearts and sparkles on her name? Mine isn't like that! I'm adding some to mine too." And now he has his friend in his phone as ‘✨🦁Ch💛ji🕺✨’.

Choji Tomiyama - Loses his phone so much Togame has to search for it on Find My Friends at least once a day. But then once he finds it and realizes he missed your calls/texts he gets super pouty because he could've been bringing you with him on his daily adventures via call. Calls you back immediately even if it's past normal waking hours which has you like

Once you actually get him on the phone though, he'll talk your ear off until he gets the urge to see you. Then he's just walking to your house without telling you he's coming to get you, all while you chat on the phone. "Hey can you open the window? I'm on the second floor gutter and it's gonna fall soon." Bro.

Tsubaki Tasuku - Another chatter. Keeps it near two hours though cause his schedule is usually hectic. Sends you texts very frequently though. Insists on showing off how cute you both are on SNS and they're professional level photography (courtesy of Seiryu.) Actually a lot bolder with her affections on the phone, often making you flustered. You guys have matching charms on each other's phones too.

Kaji Ren - Although he likes the sound of your voice, like Hiragi, he wants to hear it in person rather than on the phone. Insists he's coming to pick you up right now because it's not like he's doing anything more important than spending time with you (doesnt matter what time you call him either. If you have a nightmare or something in the middle of the night, he's already at your back door.)  Has one (1) heart next to your contact name, but if anyone comments on it he flushes and gets aggro like immediately.

Endo Yamato - I shiver thinking about being able to talk to this guy on the phone. He somehow knows what you're doing when you call him despite you not even telling him yet. His ears just happen to be really good, and if he's honest about it, he kinda finds you predictable (not a bad thing, it's just how he is.) Matches your energy while texting, and he really likes when you send him pictures of your day. He doesn't seem like the type to be on the phone for more than 30 minutes to an hour.

Chika Takiishi - He lets you chat for hours, but doesn't really respond much unless prompted. Forgets you cant see that he's nodding at what your saying, which is really kinda silly to see from his end. If he's gotta do something that he can't use his phone during, he'll leave the phone with Endo while you keep talking.

Tachibana Kotoha - Loves to chat just like Ume. She'll usually put wireless headphones in so she can multi-task better during calls. Sends shopping links back and forth with you, pretty much window shopping but also getting inspo for new outfits. She's got the customer service voice down and accidentally answers your calls with it sometimes which is pretty funny. Uses more exclamation points than you'd think she does in text. Her limit is probably 2, 3 hours max (She's a busy girl.)

Suzuri Shuhei - Really likes talking on the phone and thinks things get kinda lost in translation during text. Types messages to you like he's writing a book sometimes, and other times it's like "K. Ok. Yeah." Sir just text that you're at work or gaming rn we CAN wait till later usually. Starts pretty much every call by asking what you did for the whole day, and then follows it up with his day as well. It's kinda domestic to him to end the day like that. Max is probably 2 hours but he can do more than one call a day sooo.

Sako Kota - When he's not sending you instagram worthy pictures of the cute desserts or drinks he's getting, he's calling you and asking what you want from the place he's at. Brings you anything you want, whether you're at work, school, or home if you don't or can't go with him. He doesn't wanna be on the phone for more than half an hour, but he also calls multiple times a day even if it's just a quick question about something you were talking about earlier. He doesn't know, but when you call he visibly perks up and everyone can tell it's you despite him keeping his regular tone of voice.

[strangelittlestories]

Here in the end times, it feels like everyone got a little weird.

That'll happen, you know? In a city of bondage rooftop pirates, predatory psychic business suits, and tacticool kindness cults; in a world where the sun's gone all high contrast, low brightness; in a time where isolation is a synonym for safety ... let's just say the 'Overton Window of Normality' has shifted.

Yep, when the light broke, we all got a bit strange.

All except for Simon, that is.

Simon is perfectly normal. Simon is swell. Simon still stops by Nero's for a coffee in the mornings and the Coffee Mafia *serve him* (I think just out of confusion).

Simon goes into his co-working space three days a week. Sometimes he works on his screenplay. Other times he goes through long-dead databases and de-duplicates records. If you ask him why, he'll just say that he gets tired of working from home all the time and needs a change of scenery.

Simon keeps a spreadsheet to track the good places for salvage in London-in-Darkness. He has different tabs for foodstuffs, fuel, clothes, makeshift weaponry, and a dozen other useful categories. He sorts them according to quality, abundance, known predators, level of contrast corruption, and convenience for his commute. Ask him to show you his v-lookups sometime.

If you haunt the high buildings like I do, then you'll see him sometimes, scuttling about in his scruffy converse, jeans and hoodie. If he sees you see him, he'll wave.

It's not that the various predators, gangs and high-contrast memetic hazards avoid him, exactly. They continue their usual routes; their patterns of search, destroy and throw-a-wobbly. But somehow they just ... miss him. He'll be overlooked or have a miraculous lucky escape. Occasionally, he'll get captured for a few days and spend the time working on his yoga routine, before the next localised burst of spectrum distortion gives him a chance to scarper.

You might be tempted, if you run across him, to join Simon.

You might hear him say things like: "Why don't we pool our resources" or "Let's catch up sometime" or "I've set up a mini golf course in the Tate Modern, if you fancy it" or "Do you want to listen to some Bruno Mars? I think I have one of the last unscratched CDs."

I urge you: do not listen to him.

He means you no ill will. Simon is *normal* and *nice*.

But nice is not kind. Normal is not benevolent. And sometimes, people overlook that the world will hurt those less lucky than them without really thinking about it. And it is *normal* to protect yourself in that way. It is *nice* to gloss over difficult things.

Simon lives a live that is orthogonal to the rest of us. His plane of existence is ever so slightly out of sync.

Yours isn't.

He is a last unchanging remnant of a world that was.

You aren't.

If you meet him, you will want to follow him. His is a world of order and predictability, of self-care days and flexi-time, of secret film screenings and hidden menus in bougie coffee shops. You will be enchanted by the way he talks about getting plenty of natural light, the way he complains about his commute, and how he still tips twelve percent.

But I beg you: do not heed his Simon song. For it is the song of Bruno Mars and you will be dashed on the funk rocks.

Don't go with him, the world that keeps him safe does not exist anymore.

And when I see Simon scuttling through the streets with a new friend, I am sometimes glad that it is gone.

[all-mirth-no-matter]

Time After Time | Chapter Fourteen

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: Startling revelations ensue after drinking the tea. While you wait for Tommy to return, Benji comes in search for another date. Ada takes you shopping for a new dress to wear to the races.

Warning: language, slight supernatural (kinda?), harassment (not anything explicit but not fun), less tommy in this one but promise next chapter will make up for it!

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 14: Raise Hell

I found myself an omen, and I tattooed on a sign. I set my mind to wandering, and I walk a broken line. You have a mind to keep me quiet, and although you can try. Better men have hit their knees, and bigger men have died. 

It came upon a lightning strike, and eyes of bright clear blue. I took that tie from around my neck, and gave my heart to you. I sent my love across the sea, and though I didn’t cry. That voice will haunt my every dream, until the day I die.

— Raise Hell, Brandi Carlile 

The tea cup landed on the rug with a soft thud, the hot liquid spilling at your feet — though you couldn’t feel a degree of it. 

Your mouth gapped open at the sight before you — your mother, sitting on the rug across from you, her legs crossed same as yours, as she smiled at you. 

“This isn’t real,” you whispered, still too surprised to move, your heart racing. 

Your eyes searched over your mother’s features, looking for some hint of something fake to indicate the trick that was being played here. 

But there was your mother — as plain as day. There was no otherworldly glow or translucent quality. She looked solid, wearing the same kind of modern shirt and jeans that she would have been wearing back when she was alive, looking very out of place against the 20th century backdrop. 

The only difference between the person in front of you and the memory of your mother was the smile on her face. 

“Real is quite relative, don’t you think, Y/N?”

Her voice sounded the same as well, if not maybe stronger than it had in her last handful of years. 

Instinct to combat your mother reared its ugly head as you scoffed and responded involuntarily, “Quite relative to whether I’m hallucinating or dreaming, sure.” 

Your mother chuckled, “I’ve missed you, my darling. We have so much to talk about.” 

Swallowing, you accepted that whether dream, hallucination, ghost, or indeed real, you’d done this for a reason. You’d been given this opportunity by the Delphi for a reason. It was now or never, and you couldn’t let a little thing like freaking out over talking to your dead mother stand in your way. 

“Do you know what’s happened to me?” you asked, feeling yourself sit up a little straighter. 

Her smile fell, eyes moving around the bedroom before landing back on you, running down the clothes you were wearing. “The curse. It finally came for you, too.” 

“Too? Are you saying—“

“Yes. I too was pulled from my present and into the past. As was my mother, and her mother, and her mother before that.” 

You couldn’t believe it. Of all the things you had expected, this hadn’t even crossed your mind. “How far back?” you wondered aloud.

She shrugged, “Centuries, I suppose. All the first born daughters of this cursed lineage. Cursed to know the future, because it’s our past.” 

So that was the schtick, you realized. You couldn’t predict the future, but you could recall it from a past that hadn’t happened yet — as long as you’d been paying attention. Your mother’s insistence of learning history now made more sense. 

And yet, there was still a big question, one you asked aloud, “Why?”

“I don’t know. That is still a mystery.” Your mother dropped her head slightly out of shame, “Even in death, I’m still searching for answers.” 

I curse you, Cassandra! The voice from your dreams echoed through your head and a crazy realization hit you. “Who was the first?”

Your mother swallowed. “When you were born, I saw a vision of my daughter. A woman who would know the future, just like I did. I heard the whisper of a name. It should have been a warning, but I was under a lot of drugs and hormones and thought the name was pretty. So did your father. We already had your first name picked out so on the spot agreed to name you Cassandra. I had no idea it was the name of our matriarch — of the first to be cursed.” 

“So it’s true, we come from the original Cassandra of Troy?” Your mother nodded and you shook your head. “But that doesn’t make any sense. Say the stories are true — say the Greek Gods really existed — she could actually tell the future and she’s from the ancient past.” 

“Another mystery.” 

You huffed, so sick of the ambiguity. 

“I’m sorry,” your mother said softly, causing you to meet her eyes again. “For lying to you all those years, for confusing you. For causing you grief and madness.” 

You felt a lump in your throat, your chest tight at hearing the acknowledgment you’d wished for your whole childhood. Your brain wanted to comfort her, tell her it was alright, but your heart was more wounded than you’d ever realized.

You swallowed down the rise of tears that were threatening to build and changed the subject. “When were you born?” 

She blinked, aware of your deflection method, and answered. “The early 2020s.” 

“But that’s so—“

“Close?” your mother sighed. “Yes. I grew up blissful — my mother never mentioned her own displacement. So when I was stripped from my loved ones in 2040 to 1990, I was distraught. I was lucky to meet your father, though regretfully I was never able to open myself up completely to him, still mourning the loss of my first love. I would jump from fits of madness to total denial. After we had you, I thought things would be different. But as you grew, I became more suspicious that you would also be stripped away from me, or I you, and the fear drove me mad. So I tried to prepare you. But the closer I got to my own birth date, the madder I became and more desperate for answers I grew. Eventually, I became convinced that I’d made the whole thing up. The line between reality and delusion became nonexistent.”

You felt the tears begin to pool again as you thought about your own struggles with reality since arriving here. Madam Despoina had told you that you were stronger than your mother. But that wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. 

“I’m sorry for your father, as well,” she went on. You opened your mouth to protest, but she stopped you. “I was able to warn him about certain events — terrorism, the housing bubble, natural disasters — but I couldn’t save him, not in the end.”

“Did you ever tell him? Properly, that is?” You found yourself asking, thinking about Tommy.

Your mother shook her head. “Not directly. The best I could come up with was the gift of prophecy. After a while of telling that story, a part of me began to believe it. Believe it for you.”

“I’m sorry,” you found yourself saying, “for being so hard on you. I didn’t understand—“

“And now you do,” she said with a soft smile, “more now than ever. And unfortunately, darling, I’m going to have to put pressure on you one final time.” 

“What do you mean?”

“The curse — it must be broken. You have to find a way to break it.” 

“Me? Why—“ your words stopped as you thought about Madam Despoina’s prophecy. “‘You have a chance to mend ancient mistakes. Break the cursed chain, end the line of travel.’ A woman from the Delphi family who said she was a descendent of the Pythia told me that.” 

She smiled knowingly again, “Your tattoo, ya?”

Your mouth dropped slightly, “You knew?” 

“I have the same one. I had the same impulse before I was pulled away. I didn’t even know you had it until I—“ she cut herself off, looking somber again before clearing her throat. “It’s the tree of knowledge, of balance. But how were you able to find them?”

“I’ve met some people since arriving here. A Romani family that I’ve grown quite close to. One of the brothers specifically, he— he helped me find them.” 

Your mother hummed as she listened, her eyes moving again to the space around you. “What year is this exactly?” 

“January 1919.” Your mother’s eyes widened. “I’ve been here a few months now.” 

“And I thought fifty years was a shock,” she murmured. “Remarkable. Although the interwar period has it’s merits I suppose. Roaring 20s, jazz, rise of automotives, electricity, women’s suffrage. Though suppose it also has it’s negatives: Great Depression, prohibition, facisism, gangsters—“ You must have had a reaction, because your mother paused. “This man, is he a nice man?”

You swallowed at that, your eyes shifting. “I think he wants to be. But the circumstances are a little more complicated.” 

“Complicated like organized crime complicated?” She retorted, and you were surprised at her humor in the situation. “Oh sweetheart, you didn’t—“ 

You scrunched your face, “I didn’t mean to. There’s been odd coincidences between us since even before we met. I had a vision of him the night I woke up here. He had one of me as well. And then there’s the other dreams—“

“What dreams?”

You took a deep breath, feeling once again like you were in a room filled with puzzle pieces trying to figure out which was the right piece to pick up and share with your mother. “I’ve had dreams. Very real feeling dreams of myself as Cassandra in ancient Troy. They’ve just been pieces though, it still feels incomplete.” 

“You’ve got a strong connection to her,” your mother mused. “There has to be something in those dreams, that story, that can help you?” 

Shifting in your place, she rose her brow at you. A wave of nostalgia hit you as you recalled the look many times from your childhood. She knew you had more. 

“The Delphi woman, Madam Despoina, she— she called him Apollo. It’s his face I see in my dreams when I, as Cassandra, am with him, as Apollo. But I— I don’t know what that means.”

Her eyes narrowed as the muscle in her cheek flinched, “And does he mean something to you?” 

Her question caused your brow to furrow. “What does that have to do with this?” 

“Mother’s intuition, I suppose,” she smiled. “It’s been good to see you, my darling.” 

“What do you—“ 

You blinked. 

She was gone. 

——-

You woke up the next morning on the cold floor of your apartment, the empty tea cup still laying on the rug. 

“Mum!” you exclaimed with a jolt upward, looking to the spot in front of you. 

But of course, no one was there. You were as alone in your apartment as you’d been when you arrived last night.

You reached for the tea cup and knew that it didn’t matter. Yesterday you might have tried to argue with yourself that you’d simply been dreaming or hallucinating, but the time for denial was over. 

Whatever this stuff had been that Madam Despoina gave you had given you the ability to talk with your mother last night. 

As you got ready for your shift at the Garrison, you tried to go through everything your mother had said to you, trying to commit it to memory, afraid that any little bit of it could slip away. 

You were going through it for about the twentieth time when a patron cleared his throat at the bar. 

“Apologies, I was—“ you turned and your customer service smile fell, “Oh, Benji, hello.” 

“I was just coming by to see when you were available next,” he said, offering you his most handsome smile. “No deaths or births or any other excuses this time, eh?”

Your brow lifted, finding that statement slightly rude. It’s not as if you’d blown him off for a headache or something minor — someone had died. 

But you knew what you had to do. Benji had been nothing but nice, if not a little forward, with you since you’d meet. It’d been wrong of you to accept his invitation when you were feeling alone and rejected. You couldn’t allow him to continue to believe he had a shot, but there was no reason to be rude about it. 

“I’ve been thinking about that, Benji, and I just— I don’t think it’s such a great idea.” His smile slowly began to fall as you talked, his brow creasing. “I shouldn’t have accepted in the first place,” you continued, feeling awkward and guilty. 

“Come on, love, you haven’t even given me a chance,” he tried to defend, pulling another smile on his face, though it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“I wasn’t ready to start anything. I’m still— I’m still adjusting and I—“

“Hmm,” Benji shoved his fists in his pocket. “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with the rumors going around of you and Tommy, would it?”

Your mouth opened slightly at the allegation, but you couldn’t form any kind of defense. Instead you crossed your arms, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” 

“Liar,” he hissed, slamming his fist to the bar top. The handful of patrons in the pub looked toward them, curious by the commotion. Benji noticed the eyes and cleared his throat, lowering his voice as he lifted his finger. “You’re making a big mistake, Y/N. Tommy-boy can’t sit on the throne forever, I’ll make sure of that.” 

He gave you a wicked smile as he turned and left the pub, slamming the door on his way out. 

You contemplated whether you should tell anyone about your interaction with Benji. Unsure if his threats were real or brought on simply by rejection and jealously, you decided to stay quiet for now. 

Things had been quiet for a few days afterwards, but slowly you began to notice some major irregularities in the books. Benji’s numbers were showing signs of stealing again. It started off small, similar to what it’d been when you originally became suspicious of him. But now it was quite obvious.

Finally, you came to the conclusion that you had no choice but to bring this to Polly’s attention. It was early in the morning before the shop opened. Polly was helping with John’s kids while Ada was MIA (though if you were a betting woman, you’d say she was with Freddie), and you found yourself sitting alone at the kitchen table, book open in front of you as you felt weirdly conflicted over Benji’s malfeasance.

In the past, you hadn’t been aware of what happened to the people you reported. But now, you knew that there were physical repercussions for stealing from the Shelbys, even as extreme as death. And whether it was guilt for leading him on or some piece of you that still believed that deep down he was a good guy — you began to contemplate whether he deserved a fair warning before you officially reported him. If he knew that he wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was, that someone was paying attention to him, maybe he’d realize his mistake and end it before something bad happened to him.

You got up to get some tea, trying to think through how exactly you were going to warn him without giving yourself away, when the front door opened.

“How were the kids?” You asked over your shoulder as you poured, assuming Polly had returned.

“Y/N?”

A deeper voice than you expected came from behind you. Spinning around, you were surprised to find the man himself standing in the kitchen doorway.

Your heart rate surged when his eyes moved curiously from you to the table, the open diary and pencil next to it.

“You–” he started, the gears in his head turning to process the scene in front of him. “It’s been you all along.”

“What are you–” you tried to discreetly walk toward the other set of doors, but Benji rounded the table quicker than you, cutting off your escape routes.

What was the saying about good intentions?

“Benji you shouldn’t—“ you tried to lift up your arms between you.

His eyes narrowed and he took a step toward you. Your back hit the counter behind you as he caged you in. “It’s you isn’t it? I kept trying to figure out how it was Lenny and Jackson got stitched. And there you were all along — the little mouse hiding in plain sight.”

“Get off me!” You shouted as you tried to push him away, but he grabbed your arms. You tried to use some of the self defense moves you’d learned, but Benji was stronger than you’d anticipated, and much more sober than the last man you had to fight off of you in the pub. He spun you around and pinned your arms behind your back, pressing his weight onto you so you were pinned even tighter against the shelves and counter. You tried to kick, but he had your legs locked between his.

You were completely defenseless.

“You think you can fuck with me—“

“I wasn’t— I haven’t said anything–,” you gasped out, your face against the shelves as you tried to catch your breath while still struggling to get him off you. You felt the tears begin to fall down your face as you felt helpless.

“And you fucking won’t! You killed my mates. I’m gonna make you wish you’d never met Tommy—“

“Oi!”

Polly’s voice shouting from the doorway finally caused Benji to release you. At the slightly feel of freedom, you pushed him off and ran for the other other end of the kitchen. You grabbed a near empty bottle near you and threw it at him. He ducked as it broke against the wall behind him.

“Out!” Polly shouted, grabbing his arm and pushing him out the door. “And don’t you dare come back!”

Benji was shouting as well, raving that he was a Peaky Blinder dammit, and no one could stop him from getting what he wanted.

He looked back at you as he said that and you shivered.

Sure, you were shaken by being manhandled like that by someone you thought was a good enough man. But more than that, you were angry. This had been the second time since you’d been here that a man thought he could toss you around like you were some kind of doll.

Polly turned back toward you, and immediately got busy pouring you a cup of tea. She let you take your time as you finally launched into explanation. At the end, she calmly rose from her seat and found Scudboat in the betting den, who’d shown up at some point in all your distraction. You watched as she whispered in his ear and then calmly again walked back toward the kitchen. She reached into a drawer and pulled out a small handgun.

“You know how to use this?” 

Nodding, she handed it to you and told you to keep it on you from now on. 

“Go back to work, Y/N. Benji won’t be bothering you again.” 

——-

Polly had been right. Another week went by and you hadn’t seen or heard a peep from Benji. Part of you wondered if the bastard was dead, and you weren’t sure how exactly you felt when you realized that you didn’t really care. 

You also wondered if Tommy knew now about what happened with Benji. You hadn’t heard from him since he left again, but knew from Polly and Ada that they’d be back by the following weekend. 

In all the excitement, you’d forgotten about Tommy’s invitation to the races. When Ada burst into your apartment to announce that they were going shopping, you’d been surprised. It’d been a while since you’d been to the shops, but you weren’t going to deny the opportunity to find something nice to wear to your first race. 

“I’ve been crying nonstop for weeks,” Ada explained as you both walked around, looking at different fabrics as she pointed out some options. “Every little thing sets me off, I tell ya. I thought it was because of the funeral, but Martha and I weren’t really that close. Suppose it’s sympathy for the kids. Dunno. It’s been making me so tired though. I think I may be ill or something.” 

“Maybe,” you mused, grabbing the dress she handed you. 

A woman caught the corner of your eye. At your gaze, she dropped her head and turned. 

You ignored her, used to people staring when she was out with Ada. You hadn’t understood it when you’d first become friends, but now you realized. 

When you saw her again at the next shop, you began to feel less like it was accidental. 

“Hi,” you greeted when you met her eyes again. She looked away and tried to leave, but you spoke again, “Can I help you?” 

The woman stopped finally and turned, her head down slightly sheepishly. She wore a small hat and trendy dress, her hair was cut short like most women of the day, and you could tell she was quite tall, though she seemed to slouch slightly. Her facial features were sharp, complimenting her slim body shape. She was quite beautiful, and in your day could see her being the ideal supermodel. But the bags under her eyes and wornness of her skin led you to believe that her story probably wasn’t that simple. Not here, in Small Heath. 

“Pardon?” She finally said innocently, trying to subtly give you a once over as well. 

You shrugged, “It just seemed like you were needing something from me. My mistake.” 

You turned to leave but she spoke again. “This is incredibly improper of me, but I saw you and I just— you and Tommy, ya?” 

As you turned back to her, your brow creased. Instinct had you looking around for Ada. Ever since your encounter with Benji, you’d been edgier than you’d ever been, always looking for the exits and for familiar faces to run toward. It made you feel incredibly vulnerable and you absolutely hated it. You felt your fingers grip the strings of your handbag, knowing the gun Polly had given you was safely tucked away inside.

Swallowing, you resounded yourself to shake it off, to toughen up, and you straightened your shoulders as you addressed the stranger once again. “Excuse me?” 

“My sister saw you both walking home often late at night. I suppose he’s moved on, I shouldn’t be surprised.” She was rambling now, her cheeks blushed as if she were embarrassed by her own words. “I know we shouldn’t be speaking of this, not in public at least. It’s just hard, y’know, losing a customer. Especially one like him.” 

Customer. You looked over the stranger in front of you again and tried to think of any other instance where her phrasing would make sense aside from the very clear one that came to mind. 

Ada called for you, reaching you with a handful of dresses. You turned back to the woman who nodded and made her leave. 

“Ada, who was that?” 

She craned her neck and clicked her teeth. “Ah, that was Lizzie Stark. Surprised you haven’t seen her around town. Though why would you, less you were payin’ I suppose. Here, try these on.” 

——-

It’d been a while since you’d been on a real date. Even before you’d been sent to this place, dates had started to dwindle as you got older and got more choosy. For a while, starting in college, you’d easily been able to flirt with someone new, get to know them, and then start a fling for a while until one or both of you got bored. The couple serious relationships you’d had were harder for you. Being vulnerable hadn’t come easy for you, and it created commitment and trust issues. Dates became more complicated than they were worth. 

Tommy had greeted you at your place, and you surprised yourself with how much you missed him in the few weeks he’d been away. There was something about his presence, knowing that he was here, in the city, gave you a wave of some kind of safety and security that you hadn’t realized you’d been missing. 

He looked tired, though he smiled at you warmly as he walked you toward the family car, and offered you a hand in as you climbed in. 

This had been the first time you’d actually been excited for a date since possibly high school. 

And of course, Harry had to go and buzz kill your mood the day before the races. He hadn’t meant to, of course. After the Benji incident, he’d been extra protective and cautious. You’d explained the situation (without the stealing money from the Shelbys part) and he’d been surprisingly sensitive. But he believed his recent pub decision would make you feel better instead of make you sour.

“Somethin’ the matter?” He asked when you were quieter than he expected. “If this is about Hancock—“

“No,” you answered, already knowing from Polly that Tommy and the brothers had learned of Benji’s malfeasance, but he’d disappeared before Scudboat and Lovelock could find him. You’d cursed your previous self for trying to be sympathetic toward the man — it seemed like you’d just made everything worse. “It’s nothing honestly, just something silly.” 

“Go on, then. I can handle silly.” 

Your cheek flinched as you looked over toward Tommy, humored by him even saying the word ‘silly’. He rose his eye brow as he looked over to you, offering you a smirk before pulling his eyes back to the road. 

“Harry’s putting in an advertisement in the paper for another barmaid.” 

Tommy’s smirk turned into a frown, “Is he mad? The place wouldn’t be standin’ without you — I’ve seen the numbers, I know. I’ll have a word with Harry—“

“He’s not replacing me,” you quickly corrected. “I thought the same thing, but he wants me to concentrate more on the books and said he’d rather bring someone in part time to fill in behind the bar.” 

“Ah,” his brow creased as he gave you a short look. “The problem, then?” 

You sighed, knowing that you were being childish. “I’m just feeling territorial, is all. I know I’m not technically being replaced, but part of it feels that way. Did I mention I have a small case of control issues? I blame it on being an only child.” 

Tommy chuckled softly and shook his head. “You have nothing to worry about. If anything it’ll leave more time for you to do your real job.” 

“My real job?” You asked him curiously. 

“The Shelby business, ‘course. Wheels are already in motion, and today we’re going to enact the second part of my plan.” 

“And that is?” 

Tommy smiled, “Gonna buy a horse.”

>> next chapter << chapter masterlist

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[jymwahuwu]

I feel like I have goldfish memory but good news, I remembered what scenario I was thinking about for once.

So what if reader was trapped in a samsara like the sabzeru festival (is that how you spell it?) But instead of a festival setting it's the day where she got kidnapped by our beloved general.

On this day she got kidnapped it was just supposed to be another ordinary day but then the kidnapping happens and the next morning she sees that's she's back at home and now throughout the day she's been trying to find different ways to prevent the event but always fail in the end.

The only twist here is that Jing Yuan starts to notice how we start to predict his moves and whatever he's going to do so he starts to catch onto what's happening and tries to stop us from going into another samsara but since we don't know that he knows about this time loop he just pulls a move that we weren't expecting and kidnaps us again.

Idk if you've done this but my ✨insomnia✨ ain't letting me sleep till I type this whole thing out 😭

🍰anon

I'm starting to worry about your sleep 🍰anon 😭🥺 You seem to be as sleep deprived as me.

And never thought time loops could be so interesting! This reminds me of a gaslighting post I read before where a girl broke up with her boyfriend and he kept manipulating her by pretending that they never broke up. But this is really a time loop >_<

-CW: yandere, kidnapping, non-con, breaking into your home

On the day of the kidnapping, the sky was overcast, and the continuous dark clouds organized and gathered, swallowing up the sun. Just an ordinary day, a rainy day. The lights of passing spacecraft and the crowds. You complete your daily activities as usual, such as working/resting/shopping/walking/dining. Opening the door, you took off your shoes and packed your rain gear in the hallway, not noticing anything unusual at home…and then…you fell into a coma.

When you wake up, you're in a luxurious room with a cute cartoon tape covering your mouth. You mumbled something incoherent, thrashing around in panic. The huge figure turned - who was that? Who is that? This stranger had long, layered white hair, broad shoulders, and muscles that seemed to be hidden under the armor and cloth. As soon as he saw you waking up, he immediately approached you and spoke softly. "Oh, you're awake. I've already taken a bath for you. Don't worry." The rain fell pattering outside the general's mansion.

What bath? What bath!? For you? Your eyes widened, tears of horror running down the tape. A flash of lightning flashed across your face quickly and then disappeared. Jing Yuan held your face and looked at it for a while before kissing the tape on your lips. "Sh- don't be afraid. I'll be good to you."

If you respond tactfully, there's a chance you won't get fucked immediately on the first day. After a good night's sleep, you find yourself back home, like you've never been kidnapped!! You thought you were having an immersive dream and didn't care, but you've been kidnapped again. What happened happened again.

Check the time on your phone:

[same date].

You have searched several times and calendars on the Internet, but all of them are stuck on that day and have not moved forward. Maybe this is an opportunity to change the kidnapping? You start searching and investigating who that person really is. Of course, Jing Yuan told you the name (lovers will know each other's names.) You found his introduction on the Space Online public think tank… Uh… Jing Yuan is one of Xianzhou's generals.

Xianzhou Alliance, isn’t that a well-known space civilization alliance? He kidnapped you…does anyone believe it?

Within the time loop of the same day, you tried more than ten ways and routes to avoid being kidnapped, including returning home at different times, sleeping at a friend's house, preparing weapons, taking friends home, renting a hotel room to rest, etc. . Without exception, all failed. He can always resolve and recognize your defenses and lead you away.

Jing Yuan actually knows this time loop and all the struggles and precautions you take. He can't help but see how far you can go, how smart you can be, but doesn't want you to actually escape his chessboard.

Until, after you were kidnapped again, you thought you would wake up and return home…but no. Moreover, Jing Yuan has found a way to end this day's time loop, preventing you from entering another loop. He has Xianzhou technology support after all. You look around the room - this is still the General's mansion.

Why?

Jing Yuan enjoys the fruits and sweetness of victory. Putting you at his mercy - stopping your resistance, his warm palm rubbed between your swollen thighs, spreading your buttocks. He holds you with your legs spread forward, holding you like you were a cute puppy, and penetrates you with his cock. Your heart skipped a beat at his words.

"The only timeline is that we fell in love."

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Dragging Conrad Black Friday shopping 💕

I don't see the interest of doing a full fic with this, so here's a drabble

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You almost felt bad for dragging Conrad from stores to stores during this shopping madness. The mall was packed with people, all ready to fight you on the best deals. 

With a coffee in your hand that was not holding any bags, you searched for the next stop on your list. It wasn’t your first rodeo, so you had planned prior to coming to the mall so you knew exactly where to go. Unfortunately, some stores had queues to get in, which was the most annoying thing about black Friday shopping. 

And the parking situation. This one was an utter nightmare.

‘’We should get something for Susannah, she loves this store and there’s good deals,’’ you said, approaching a fancy paint store.  

‘’I already know what I’m getting her this year,’’ Conrad dismissed with an air of nonchalance.

You gave him a look of disapproval, immediately guessing his idea. Men were too predictable for Christmas shopping. ‘’You can’t give her a robe again.’’

‘’Why not? She loves the one I got her last year. She wears it everyday,’’ he quickly defended.

‘’Exactly. She doesn’t need a new one.’’ You grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the paint store.

—

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[wing-ed-thing]

Marriage Pact (Erwin x Reader) Part IV

Synopsis: To the surprise of the cadets, Commander Erwin is married to more than just his work. Their curiosity brings up fond memories of your and Erwin’s early days in the scouts.

Word Count: 6.4k

Tags/Warnings: Language, No Reader Pronouns, Fluff, Marriage Pacts, 104th Cadet Corps Shenanigans, Proposal, Canon-Typical Violence, Self-Inflicted Injury (Non-Mental Health Related), Animal Death, Divergence from Canon Mechanics

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Finale

Notes: Erwin Smith has a playful side. Erwin Smith loves teasing. Erwin Smith loves banter. I will DIE by this in this essay I will—

You were ready to be done. Your days passed by with the sun rising over your early morning drills and setting past your office window where you slaved over your never-ending mountain of bureaucratic work. 

As expected, the second expedition served little more than to record Erwin’s exemplary performance as part of expedition command. He all but took the lead, riding front and center as he orchestrated his new Long-Distance Enemy Scouting Formation (LDESF). The formation had been used before, but not with Erwin at the helm. You knew he’d be Commander Erwin before long.

All the backers had high expectations of him, and suffice it to say, he blew all predictions out of the water. No matter how much Erwin liked to deny and parry your predictions of his promotion, the evidence rapidly mounted against him. And with backers and donors all in agreement at his display of talent and reassurance, the Scout Regiment faced restructuring. 

The following month was one of the busiest you had seen in your career. Save for a few elite soldiers handpicked by Erwin, the rest of his squads were relocated to be under different section commanders. You gained an additional two squads and a handsome raise while the other three were dispersed unevenly between Hange and Fletcher. To a lack of surprise, Fletcher received less than half of the members that Hange had gained, leaving Erwin with one special ops squad and a small team of medics and veterinarians. 

It was the mundanity that centered you in the coming weeks, and the time you would have dedicated to reading into interactions with Erwin was properly directed toward your career. Your squads kept you busy, and the most face time you had with your fellow section commanders existed strictly between trainings and within supervisory meetings. And although you found it slightly more difficult than usual to focus on the new policies with Erwin sitting right across from you, your unconscious searching for his neat blond hair gradually dwindled. 

The marriage pact was a thing of the past: a joke made after you and a coworker had one too many. You were ready to leave it behind, hoping you could laugh about it sometime down the road when you might actually be married. 

Married, but certainly not to Erwin Smith. And his new promotion to special ops section commander only served to further solidify the fate you assumed was laid out for you. 

In addition to the overhaul, the funds all four section commanders secured during the Military Ball allowed for an influx of resources, all of which had to be organized into expanded storage facilities. Trost Headquarters was busier than ever, and in the midst of it all, you hardly had time to talk to Erwin, let alone see him.

“Erwin’s in Stohess?” You frowned with a crinkled brow. Miche stood attentively as you both wordlessly side-stepped to an uncrowded portion of the hall. He held a sizeable box of supplies against his hip. Despite the heavy metal contents, Miche didn’t appear to struggle with its weight in the slightest. “What? Is he meeting Edmonds again?”

“Said he wanted to get some shopping done.” Miche shrugged, ever a man of few words.

“Shopping,” you repeated lightly with a downward nod, “In Stohess?”

Miche shrugged again, “Maybe to blow some of that special ops salary money.” His eyes were beginning to wander, thoughts of finishing his task more prevalent in his mind than whatever Erwin was up to. 

“I don’t think Erwin is the kind of person to blow money, let alone in a place like Stohess.” You tapped your foot in thought as you played with a stay strand of hair at the back of your neck. Like most zones in and around Wall Sina, Stohess was known for its affluent districts abundant with skilled craftsmen and desirable goods.

“Who knows, maybe he wanted a chandelier.” Miche shrugged a third time, shifting the oversized box in his arm. He seemed awfully jumpy today. “I hear you can find quite the artisans there.” His eyes darted to the end of the hall leading to the staircase. “Gaffers, blacksmiths… jewelers,” he murmured. You wondered if he was waiting for someone.

You sighed.

“Well, if and when you see him, could you tell him to come by my office? You have better luck tracking him down than I do.” You gestured in the vague direction of your office space. Miche offered you a simple nod before you wordlessly left in opposite directions. 

But even with a messenger on the lookout, Erwin ultimately didn’t appear during work hours to talk about the upcoming expedition. You heard him at one point. (His workspace was at the other end of your lengthy hallway, and the stone tiling bounced voices around until everyone on the floor could hear.) But when you had the chance to pop your head out into the hall, Erwin’s door was closed. Clearly, he had just about as many meetings as you did. 

It wasn’t until the end of the work day that you received a knock at your door. You were already staying later than you should have. Erwin let himself into your office as you were wrapping up the last of your files. Your jacket rested on the edge of your desk along with your work bag. 

“I’m a bit surprised you’re here,” he said, stopping in your doorway. Erwin leaned into the room, resting a fraction of his weight on the grip he still had on the door handle with one foot poised on the hallway's tile. 

“I’m not surprised that you are.” You quirked a smile, dipping your head to the side in a roundabout nod. You placed a few things on one of your bookshelves. Erwin stepped fully into the room, closing the door gently behind him. “I take it you saw Miche?”

“We, unfortunately, didn’t see each other until he was leaving for the day.” He stuffed his hands under the straps stretching over his sides as he strode to your desk. He sat halfway on the surface as you continued filing your bureaucratic work. His eyes flickered down to your jacket. “I thought maybe I could catch you, but you seem like you’re on your way out.”

“I mean, how long were you planning on sticking around?” you asked, turning your attention toward the clock. You surveyed the small pile of items that needed to be filed away, weighing if you would be in the mood to deal with them the next morning.

“Probably not for very long,” Erwin admitted. He coiled his arms over his chest, still half sitting on your desk. His feet could still touch the floor. You heaved a light sigh, but ultimately, not getting the chance to chat with Erwin about storage organization and horses didn’t quite end the world for you.

“I thought you always stayed late,” you responded, more asking than stating anything specific. You shuffled a few things around your desk to look busy. You placed the bottom file you were holding on top of the top one before switching them back again. 

“Is it such a surprise that I don’t live in my office?” Erwin cocked his head to the side, his thick brows high on his forehead. “I make plans, too, you know.”

“Like blowing your bonus in Stohess?” The words tumbled from your lips without you even processing them, a playful retort than anything of resentment. Erwin blinked a few times. The surprised crease on his forehead remained. You offered him a taut smile, trying to play off the forwardness of your assertion.

“Did Miche tell you that?” he questioned, shifting on the surface of your desk to face you more directly. 

“Oh, you know, word gets around.” Your tongue darted out at him in jest. You snickered to yourself as you reorganized a few papers on your desk with your free hand.

“What else did he tell you?” His tone was straight, letting on little besides the hint of tentativeness in the undertone of his voice. You could feel Erwin’s eyes on you without even looking up. “Not much else. You know, tight-lipped as usual.” You shrugged, finally filing away the last two bundles in your arms. Your thin smile gradually morphed back into the natural orientation of your lips. 

“Clearly not…” When you turned around, Erwin had his gaze on the carpet below. He rubbed at the bottom of his lip with the back of his index finger, holding an otherwise neutral expression about him. You couldn’t help but think he looked troubled: not overly angry or worried, but so deep in ponderance you wondered if you could pull him out of his own head. 

“Erwin?”

“Hm?” He perked up out of his daze as though he hadn’t been lost in his thoughts to begin with. A beat passed the two of you by as Erwin discretely gathered his bearings. You picked up your jacket, draping it over your arm. 

“I had some squad stuff to talk over. If you had time tomorrow, we can just do it then.” You looked out your window at the state of the sun. A few clouds passed overhead. You turned to peer at him out of the corner of your eye. The number of items you needed to speak with Erwin about far exceeded the ten or so minutes he probably had, and you were willing to bet that he knew that. “There’s also still the talks with the farms about renegotiating our agreement with the increased demand for horses. We need everyone on board.”

“That’s all?” 

You turned to him with a curious hum.

“What do you mean?” 

Erwin stared at you for a beat before shaking his head. He slid off the front of your desk, part of him still appearing lost in thought as he stared blankly at the shelf you had just reorganized. The side of his mouth dipped in tandem with his chin as if he had come to a mediocre conclusion in his silent debate with himself. 

“What?” you asked again, finally able to wrangle Erwin’s attention again.

He blinked a couple of times. His lips parted with hesitancy.

“I just thought you wanted to talk to me about personal matters.” His chin dipped again. Erwin glanced at you out of his peripheral but didn’t linger. “But if you want to talk about work, I have time tomorrow morning at, say—” He studied your clock before turning back to you. —“Nine o’clock?”

Personal matters? Given the amount of time that passed since your supposed agreement— you still considered two and a half months to be an excessive amount of time to have never spoken about it to the point where it must’ve been purposeful— you just assumed the engagement was off. 

“If that’s all…” He chirped before heading toward the door. You called after him and scrambled to the other side of your desk. “Horses…” he mused to himself. 

“Wait, hold on a second.” 

Erwin was already halfway across the room. He turned again, not fully facing you. His irises held a confused surprise in them as he stopped, looking at you innocently as he waited for you to speak.

And that’s when you realized he knew exactly what he was doing. 

Jackass.

“What was that?” Erwin’s astonished voice snapped you out of your freeze. The feigned shock in his eyes solidified into interested amusement as his mouth slowly contorted into a barely suppressed smirk. Erwin stepped closer.

You said that out loud, didn’t you?

You grasped at something to say, a million thoughts racing across your mind all at once. Maybe you should apologize. Erwin was your peer, after all— calling him names was hardly professional— but was it such a crime if it was true? Or maybe you should clear the air and play it all off as if you had no idea what he was talking about. You could both never speak about the marriage pact ever again as if it never happened and move on— oh fuck it.

“What about our— the agreement?” you exclaimed, your voice so loud you practically screamed it at him. 

He let you stand there as the words hung awkwardly in the air. It was truly a question drenched with desperation and hesitancy. 

Erwin pivoted a half-step to stand fully in front of you. His feet sat almost shoulder length apart as his tongue poked at the inside of his bottom lip. He glanced off to the side before meeting your eye again. You wondered if you were missing something. The bridge of his nose creased, and the smugness you thought you saw before melted into genuine confusion.

“The agreement?” He asked, and with two words, your heart sank to your stomach. Erwin repeated it like a question, and you knew he was too smart to have simply not remembered. “I thought we were still figuring that out.”

You waited for him to say more, but Erwin made no motion to continue as you stood in the spotlight of his gaze, burning with embarrassment. 

“Oh.” You breathed in sharply, shaking yourself as you slipped on your jacket. “Still figuring it out… Well, it's not urgent anyway. Let's just… move on from it.” You tried to make for the door, but Erwin sidestepped to intercept you. A single, firm touch found your uniform-clad elbow. 

He spoke your name with a similar sternness, almost as if he were chastizing a child. He held a frown on his lips and a tension-filled crease above his brow.

“If there’s something on your mind that you want to talk about right now—” Any remaining amusement in his eyes was eclipsed by severity. You didn’t stick around to see much of it. With your gaze cast somewhere else, you shooed him out of your office, and Erwin said little as you swiftly locked the door to your office. 

You tuned out whatever else he was saying, muttering some retractions to play off your disdain before bidding him farewell for the day. You exited through the stairwell at the end of the hall.

***

The third— or now just a routine— expedition arrived swiftly. You found that time passed faster in the service and seemed to with each passing year. But with most of your waking hours spent with a mandatory, purposeful rigor, you hardly felt the weight of what was to come until you were already seated on your horse. 

No night full of drinking and games occurred that eve. Everyone had their fill of booze and celebrations at the beginning of the month. The increased wages for leadership, heightened equipment quality, and rations hadn’t hurt their spirits either. But above all, every troop appeared invigorated with the introduction of the LDESF, and their high spirits were palpable for the entire ride to Wall Maria.

The people appeared equally cheerful, if not more. For once in a long time, they crowded the streets and filled the air with their enthusiastic praises. Hange took their hands entirely off their horse, waving to everyone with an excited rigor. 

You heard your name several times as you rode past the throng. The people of Wall Maria shouted words of encouragement, confident that you and your fellow section commanders would surely reclaim more lost territory. Even the horses under your saddles moved with anticipation. 

You glanced at the back of Erwin’s head as he rode in front of you. He held his upright posture, not even acknowledging the shouted praise beyond a few polite nods. 

You kept a firm hand on your reins with your eyes cast upward to where Wall Maria towered directly overhead. The sky was a rich, light blue and cast a pristine background to a flock of birds soaring above. Not a single cloud accompanied them as the atmosphere swelled with cool, spring air. 

The gates opened a short distance in front of you, and the shuffling of your horse beneath your saddle grew more restless. As the heavy metal door pulled upward, light trickled into the exit tunnel, and you were on your way.

The squads fanned out quickly, with all four section commanders taking charge of their respective units. You paced yourselves, Commander Shadis setting a fast but manageable tempo. Even at the break-neck pace you were traveling, the whole battalion fell into place neatly, forming the arrowhead shape of Erwin’s formation. 

You held your smoke gun at the ready, eyes trained on the peers around you for your first signal. You had significant ground to cover.

The pop of smoke guns sounded in the distance, draping the atmosphere in vibrant pigment. The formation drifted, forging on together as a titan appeared in the west. More popping echoed somewhere behind you. Horse hooves thudded arrhythmicly across the grassy plain. You swivveled your head briefly.

Two teams behind you had engaged with two five meter class titans and were making short work of them. You loaded your gun, shooting the colored smoke into the air to notify the rest of the battalion not to move too far ahead. A pellet of the same pigment shot up into the air from the west. 

The formation leaned to the east, advancing forward directly toward the patch of forest straight ahead. Three wagons carted ahead of you, gradually closing in the clear path between the formation and the trees. 

Everything had gone so smoothly. With a clear goal in mind, you had no doubt that this expedition would go by quickly. And once everything was finished and you were, hopefully, back home, all would return back to normal.

***

One of the Scout’s major priorities was to set up several bases outside the Walls, which was the main objective of your current mission. Utilizing the dense, wooded area rather far into titan territory, it had been a previous section commander who had proposed the idea of a lofted base of operations high in the trees. 

After some trials and rigorous testing, leadership intended to have the scouts run expeditions from the base. Being in titan territory, many hoped that it would allow soldiers access to resources and medical care much faster than a trek back to the Walls. The woods also provided ample cover, ideal for ODM gear, which would hopefully make patrolling the immediate area more manageable. Not to mention that the height of the trees made this newly established base the most titan-proof, at least according to higher leadership. 

The groundwork had already been laid. A colony of several wooden structures was built onto the branches. They were simple in architecture but boasted a sturdy structure. They housed enough to support basic camping and material storage, in addition to a landing platform just outside the roofed portion. 

It had been a mission with a purpose and a clear, achievable goal to the end. The scouts utilized lifts to haul all the cargo up into the canopy, and a small team patrolled the edge of the forest to clear out any titans that wandered too close. 

The few days that you spent in the forest went suspiciously smoothly. Your squads ran new drills to get used to the new base, and you worked with your fellow leadership to analyze their progress to report back when you returned to headquarters. And by the time your expedition in the forest was over, the scouts had achieved their best stats perhaps of all time. While your troops had experienced some injuries, they had been few and far between with the most severe being a broken bone. 

The luck you were having made you uneasy as you prepared to depart. Your squad was at the back, following the rest of the battalion as the scouts gradually left the forest. In experimenting with the new formation, Shadis wanted to stagger each wave of troops to create a less concentrated grouping. Erwin came up behind you, riding around you to your left. 

“You alright being at the back of the pack?” He stopped next to you, knocking your shoulder with the back of his hand. Erwin smiled at you, and you let the corners of your lips twitch upwards back. 

“We’ll be alright,” you said with a nod. You glanced down at the ground, your horse shifting under you. 

“I know you will,” Erwin hummed. His hand brushed over your shoulder as he rode away. You watched the back of his head as he took his place ahead at the center of the formation and continued to keep him in your peripheral until he rode away with his wave of troops. 

You waited, watching as the last few squads trickled off. It was only when they had begun to disappear into the distance that your last patrols swung around the corner.

“Section Commander! We have a problem!”

It was too late.

And it had to come at the worst possible moment. 

The ground shook.

You sat on the saddle of your horse, feeling smaller than you’d ever felt before. Eight titans bounded around the trees and surrounded you, all of varying sizes, but most in the 15 meter class. You were seasoned enough to not underestimate a single titan, but an entire hoard was an entirely different level. They completely surrounded your team, some hunched over and staring with drooling mouths. 

Before a single word left your lips, one of your patrols bounded around the corner with a loud battle cry and swords at the ready as he swooped toward the nape of one of the titans. Your hand shot out.

“No! Don’t—”

The titan was too fast in plucking him out of the air and crushing your soldier in its fist. The other titans ran through your group at the sight of limbs and blood, causing your horses to move erratically.

“Retreat!” you shouted just as everything plunged to hell. You narrowly missed getting stepped on as the titans gathered around what was left of your patrol. A titan shot its hand forward to grab at one of your squad captains, and with a swift draw of your swords, the hand fell to the ground with a soft thud. “Get back to the group!” 

You veered your reins, eyes on the group of titans as your troops sped past you in the direction of the greater battalion. Your forehead crinkled as a thousand thoughts raced through your mind at once, and in between the static and the rapidfire calculations, you quickly came to a conclusion.

You took a knife from your equiptment pocket and drew it quickly across the back of your forearm, leaving a long, red slit that immediately began to drip blood. You veered your horse around violently, causing it to rear up on its hind legs with a startled neigh.

Didn’t hesitate in following your orders, galloping through the plains at a breakneck pace as you started in the opposite direction. You hit your swords together, creating a discordant clanging as you swooped circles around the group of titans. You heard your name being called by a few of your troops, but they were whisked away by your formidable leadership team.

“We have to help!” one girl cried, loading up her smoke gun. It was smacked out of her hand. 

“The section commander is buying time to let us escape! If we don’t leave now, the titans will chase us to the rest of the squads,” one of your squad captains shouted, his voice cracking. He hurried her along, all of your subordinates ensuring that every soldier was riding in the direction of the rest of the scouts. He gulped, horrified and grave tears beginning to pool at the corners of his eyes. “They’re acting strange and the section commander knows that’s gonna save out hide. Someone has to stay behind.”

You maneuvered around the trees, whipping around speedily, but not making very many strikes. Even for your skill set, taking on so many large titans at once— and by yourself— wasn’t an easy feat. Your skills lied more in speed, aerial agility and team communication, and only two of which was of any use to you in the moment. 

A titan’s hand flew through the air, and you maneuvered just in time before the large palm smacked into the tree branch you were just standing on. The wood splintered and the limb went crashing to the ground. 

You kept moving, falling deeper into the forest toward the canopy base. While conservation of gas always mattered on the field, you could afford to exert some more gas than usual in an effort to draw the titans away. Keeping their attention would serve to be the hardest, as titans by nature were more keen on pursuing larger groups, but by keeping the scent of blood in the air and right in front of their eyes, you could hope to lure a good chunk of the titans to the other end of the forest. You trusted your team and the greater battalion to be able to handle any stragglers. 

You leaped across the branches, swinging both your swords down onto the nape of the largest titan. At the very least, you could get that one off your plate, but the motion left you vulnerable. 

Giant hands swiped at you and fingers clenched inwards with force as you blasted through the group, contorting your body as you managed to slip away. 

You shot your ancor at another tree, managing to use your momentum to your advantage to take out the ankles of a titan to the rear of the group. As it fell, you sliced the neck before shooting back off toward the canopy base. 

Your canisters were less than a third empty and you would need to refresh them soon to take on the remaining titans. You blasted ahead at lightning speed and the giants followed at a breakneck pace. 

The base sat just ahead, more in the middle of the eastern sector of the woods rather than directly in the middle. Considering you just restocked it yourself, you knew there were more than enough materials to expand your options. 

Another large hand reached for you, and twisting at the right moment, you managed to spiral over the forearm and up the bicep to make a deep cut. You shot forward, ancors firing left and right as you swooped up into the canopy. 

Even as your boots hit the hard wood landing, you were wracked with a feeling of dread that fell into the deepest pit of your stomach. You retreated into the rooved portion, releasing the blades you already had in your grips in exchange for fresh ones. Your canisters also hit the wood floor as you rifled around for fresh ones. 

The titans, now joined by one more, crowded around the base of the trees. The temporary checkpoint wasn’t intended for longterm use in it’s current state, but as a stopping area to restock on necessary supplies, treat the wounded, and other services that couldn’t be done on the run with the hopes that it would elongate expeditions. It was meant to be used in the way you were using it now, but being a single soldier, you weren’t sure if a simple restock was enough to bail you out. 

Titans would only continue to gather around you, and even if you decided to stay, you weren’t sure if or when you could possibly be retrieved. In all likelihood, your best guess would be a month away when the Scouts had their next expedition. That is, if they made it that far or even had the clearance to enter the forest. Even then, given the accumulation of titans without a patrol team to thin them out, you would be the reason many soldiers would be risking their lives. The base was meant to be used for a portion of a day or overnight, not for a month.

You stood on the edge of the platform, refreshed swords drawn and your whistle between your lips. The titans squirmed around eagerly below, gnashing their teeth and letting drool dribble from the open mouths. With a deep breath in, you called your horse before pocketing the whistle and letting yourself fall off the side of the platform. 

Even as an experienced soldier, you didn’t think you’d ever get truly desensitized to facing titans. You supposed that the blunt nerves you felt was only a testament to your humanity. You tried to find satisfaction in that. 

Your body worked on it’s own, diving straight into the den of the beasts and felling one on your departure down. It was a jumble of metal, blood, saliva, and teeth. The leather straps of your uniform were beginning to dig uncomfortably into you, straining your limbs as you fought gravity and for your life. They strained more than usual.

Titan blood mixed with your own, staining your steaming white clothes. Two more went down, then one more, leaving a hot mass of meat behind as you finally saw your horse galloping in the distance. You whipped through the trees, adrenaline coursing through your veins and determination manipulating your movements as you swiped past the very last titan of the group with your sword.

That was it.

You positioned yourself to be able to fall right into the saddle of your horse, your anchors recoiling as you sheathed your swords and took the reigns. It was a long way out of the woods, and even longer back to Wall Maria, but if you were dying anyway, you might as well try.

And it was a cruel sense of irony that allowed you to see the edge of the forest. 

You rode along, trying to center your breathing and your head and you glanced around widely for any signs of titans. And when you saw the golden light of the day ahead, you were almost relieved. 

It was right there, but so was that very last titan.

The just-too-shallow cut on the back of its neck was gone, and the repercussions of your carelessness swiped your horse out from under you in an instant. You flew forward, your ankle twisting as you landed in the leaflitter. Your thigh slammed into your sheath on your way down, and as you tumbled, your bulky equipment tore at your limbs as you tumbled. 

You skidded back, somehow able to get to your feet. Sticks, leaves, and dirt scratched at the backs of your ankles as you came face to face with the ten meter titan behind you. Your horse was splattered against an adjacent tree, and your hands flew to your swords. You pulled on the grips—

You pulled on the grips—

Your eyes glanced down in horror at the grips jammed in your sheaths. You kept tugging on them, only to hear the sobering sound of metal shaking but not giving. And then the gear at your lower back began to fall. 

It was only then that you realized that your straps had completely given way, having been torn and hanging limply off your body. Your straps, the ones that you had been meaning to replace. Your weight shifted to one side as one of your sheaths began to fall to the ground.

Your head snapped back toward the titan as it raised a giant hand in the air, lunging forward with its mouth wide. 

Suddenly, a giant mass swept in from the side, swiping you out of the way and knocking just about all the wind you had in your chest out of you. You nearly heaved at the impact, but the bile in your core was sated by sheer shock. Another impact made you slam your chin against hard leather. You felt blood begin to dribble across your cheek.

Your head spun, able to focus on little else but a tuff of blond hair. The front legs of Erwin’s white stallion galloped under you, and your hand immediately shot out to grab anything you could to balance yourself as you laid sprawled out on your stomach. 

“E—Erwin?” you could barely get the word out. “Why— why did you come back? I thought— thought you—”

“We had a deal. Don’t you remember?” He called over the whooshing of the wind and the harsh pounding of the titan’s stride from behind you. Your head spun from the motion and the thumping of Erwin’s horse directly under you. You strained your neck, barely able to catch sight of how Erwin’s bangs blew in the breeze. The sun illuminated the back of his head in a golden glow, and in the haze of it all, the only thing you could focus on was him. He glanced down at you, a slight smile on his lips. “I can’t marry you from the stomach of a titan.”

Electricity shot through your chest, but you hardly had time to think, let alone speak. Erwin’s anchors shot up somewhere out of your sight. 

“Brace yourself.” 

Erwin shot up into the air, leaving you to cling onto his horse for dear life. 

There was a hiss from his canisters. The noise of harsh metal on metal rang out as Erwin manuvered somewhere behind you. 

Light ahead grew clearer as you fought for your place on the back of Erwin’s horse, the stretch of forest you were galloping through growing shorter. 

A great whoosh of wind came just before an even louder slam that shook the ground below, giving you little warning as you were thrown through the air. Erwin’s horse went on without you, leaving you to tumble out into the grass just beyond the edge of the woods. Your arms came up to shield your head, but your shoulder hit the dirt hard.

You rolled violently before skidding off a good distance away. You landed on your back, bleeding and unable to breathe with your eyes were still scrunched closed. 

The uproar in the background ceased and you heard the recoiling sound of Erwin’s coils as he swooped out of the forest. He moved somewhere ahead, reuniting with his stallion. You couldn’t even muster the energy to look, but you knew your nightmare was over.

“You alright?” he called, and the sudden professionalism in his voice made your eyes snap open. You sat up in the field, wondering if you heard him right. And when your head swivveled toward him, Erwin wasn’t looking at you at all. In fact, he was already back on his horse as red titan blood evaporated off of him.

“No!” You answered, your relief being swiftly replaced with anger. His words had sunk in and the sheer audacity he had to speak to you normally after that slammed the energy back into your body. “What the hell, Erwin?” You screeched across the field as the world continued to spin. You picked yourself off the ground, debris smeared across your face as your stumbled to your feet. “That was the stupidest stunt I’ve ever seen! I had it! And you— and you—!”

“You certainly did not have it.” Erwin’s brows bounced on his forehead, his eyes widening for a moment as he blinked in adamant disbelief. His white stallion trotted slowly away from the steaming titan in the background, meeting you just a short distance away as you stormed forward, still subtly off balance. “There’s a reason those straps are meant to be for your dress uniform only. You can’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

You chose not to hear that last part.

“And you chose now? Now of all times?”  You continued to rant, curse words falling from your lips harsher than you had fallen out of the air. Erwin paid you no mind as he dismounted from his saddle. You nearly had a conniption as he ran a hand through his hair before adjusting his jacket. “You haven’t said anything about marrying me once in three months and you have the goddamn nerve— We’re on a job for— Erwin Friedrich Fucking Smith, you waited until now—?” 

“Oh, you’re getting serious,” he mused. You jabbed a finger directly into the middle of his chest. 

—“And you know what, no! I’m over it. You do know that Pixis offered me a position not too long ago. When we get back I’m putting in for a branch transfer so I never have to see you again, I swear! I’m sick of guessing and not knowing and what the hell is that?” 

You did a double take at the box that sat right in the middle of Erwin’s palm. 

No, it didn’t quite sink in for you.

It would take you a moment, just like when you were still processing his words from before.

“Well, I wanted to wait, but if you’re going to throw yourself at a titan if I don’t propose, then I suppose there’s little else that can be done.” Erwin slowly dropped to one knee, opening the leather box to reveal the simplest, yet most beautiful ring you had ever seen. 

It sat perched between two velvet cushions, shining in the light of the day. It didn’t even look real, and you were convinced that the sight in front of you wasn’t happening. The anger and annoyance that had built up in your chest and exploded melted away, leaving a confusing mix of energy and high emotions in its place.

And you were at a loss. 

You couldn’t even think. 

You stood in front of him with your mouth agape, staring dumbly from the ring to his face as your thoughts short-circuited. Every piece of inner commentary went blank. 

Erwin’s brows knitted together.

“You remembered, didn’t you—?” 

“Shut up,” you spoke quickly, but your answer only made Erwin tilt his head in shock. He opened his mouth to say more. Your palm flew out in front of you. “Nope! Shut it. Shut up.” You took a deep breath, glancing to the side and then back to where Erwin kneeled patiently in front of you. And it was only when you noticed the slight smirk on his lips did you spin around, your hands flying to your face. “Erwin, you ass—”

 “I’ll take that as a yes.” He caught your hand, having stood up somewhere behind you, and unceremoniously slid the ring onto your finger. He held your hand draped over his. 

Erwin circled you until he stood in front of you again, one hand still holding your own. A knuckle pressed under your chin, tilting your head up and you didn’t even notice the small amount of wetness pooling in your eyes until he swiped the back of his finger under your lower lids. 

“Are you alright?” His tone was ever-serious, but his voice was soft. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. You squeezed his fingers gently. “Yeah, it’s a good thing.”

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Author Commentary: I was hesitant to add the humor I did because I was overly concerned about Erwin's characterization, and I suppose the tone matching him? But then I remembered the first chapter started with a comment about how nice his ass was so I just—

Also, this chapter took so long because I had no idea how I was going to write the proposal scene and the set up. This chapter has been half done for months and it was half the proposal and half the titan scene. I actually hate writing AOT action which I suppose so many of my AOT works are about the characters doing paperwork at HQ... We ignored a lot of titan rules in this chapter, but what can you do?

Also also, this fic kinda turned into a different story in the middle of this huh? Kinda cool. There's one more chapter. I wanted to cut back to the cadets at the end of this chapter but I wasn't expecting the titan fighting scene to be so long. The wedding, the aftermath, and everything in the present will all be stuffed into the next chapter.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Finale

Deleted Scene - can you see why i deleted this now haha

Stupid, Stupid, Emotionally Unavailable Erwin Smith (Levi x Reader x Erwin)

Notes: I’m happy to add people to the tag list, but requesting to be added without interacting with any part of this series outside of your tag request will result in a swift block.

@goddessinsweats @lionhearted-soldier @answer-the-sirens @piercedddriver @scarletrosesposts @thewrittenromance @erwinawesomeness

[kokiriofthevalley]

Link's search histories

no totk spoilers pls also sorry obscure link fans and TP fans

Side note: oui oui baguette

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[sehodreams]

thoughts on dark rich riize buying reader in a human trafficking black market. the reader legally belongs to the buyer.

Damn I like the concept, these are the ones who came to my mind (sorry for the others I couldn't imagine)

Lol not me searching "how do a black market look like? for writing purposes not for illegal purchases" to understand how it worked HAHAHAAHAAHAHA

TW and tags: smut, oral sex (m receiving), dubcon, noncon, slapping, overstimulation, hints of sadism, dom!riize, I can't remember how all the nasty stuff here is called so if someone told me I'd be grateful 🤣

Eunseok

He'd be warm, like, you felt scared to be there, but he'd always talk to you softly, telling you how much he enjoyed your company, your presence, and how beautiful you looked with his gifts.

He'd buy you everything that reminded him of you, his little doll.

He'd be just so nice, soft touches and multiple kisses in day light, but when the night came, you were scared of who would you with that night, would it be your soft owner? Or the other guy? The guy who slapped your face and left hand marks on your neck, or that would sometimes go crazy and let candles drip over your back when he fucked you from behind.

You could never predict what would happen, and he would always repeat the same thing "my doll", because he had to make sure you understood that, you just were his pretty, warm and soft doll.

Wonbin

Wonbin always looked so sweet, he gave the prettiest smiles when he was on those video conferences for work, and you saw him being so kind to others, so why couldn't he be that nice to you?

You'd watch him from your cage, always in front of him, to be comforted with your presence and on his watch to know your every move. You had tried to escape three times, and those were already too many times for him to ever trust you again, so your punishment was to always be behind those bars the time he decided.

He'd let you roam around mostly at night, when he felt like having you even closer, his chest on your back while playing with your little bud, fucking you over the same table you had dinner, or making you suck him after you had your daily bath.

Now, he was pushing the vibrator to your dripping cunt, making you cum until you cried and made a mess over his expensive couch after you told him you wanted to leave after he asked you what would you like for your first month anniversary there.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" you'd repeat, crying of overstimulation after your third orgasm.

"I don't think you're sorry enough" he'd smile, whispering to your ear, to then leave pecks over all over your neck. "You need to learn that you're not a guest here, you're my property, so you better get used to your new life"

Anton

You had no family and no friends, so you were the perfect target for the people that took you from your little apartment in the middle of the night, no one asked for you, your coworkers quickly forgot about your existence and then you just... Disappeared. So, when he bought you, you didn't put much fight, tired of your old life, maybe that would be the best, you thought.

There, with him, at least you had a much nicer home, a hot meal every day and what you always wanted, a person to depend on. So, what if he made you wear a collar with his name all the time? And what if you had to wait for him to feed you because if not he'd get angry? You didn't want to make him angry, you wanted to always see that pretty smile telling you how good you were, "such a good girl" he'd say every time you let him take off the little clothes he let you wear, putting his dick inside you when you watched his favorite programs, or when he was playing those silly games that made him insanely rich.

And sometimes he was more than nice, like when he took you shopping in the middle of the night to those stores you couldn't afford in your old life with your disgusting minimum wage, buying you all the food and clothes you'd ever want and need.

And what if those nights he made you walk with a leash? You'd do it all again if you could always be with him.

Shotaro

He was so nice most of the time, buying you expensive dinners, letting you cuddle beside him, making sure you had everything you'd ever need, you ended appreciating him.

It was hard at first, to get used to that lifestyle, not being able to leave the apartment, to lose all contact with your family and friends, even to endure his touches, but you had to get used to it, he was clear when you arrived, the only thing he expected from you was to look pretty, not talk and welcome him with open legs every time he needed.

When you refused at first you had it bad, he'd starve you, talk to you coldly and take you with force, but when you learned how to be the little angel he needed, everything got better, his hands wouldn't furiously touch you anymore, instead he'd caress you with them, touching the little place that got addicted to his attentions, and who needed to talk? now all you needed inside your mouth was his cock when he came after a long day of work, to thank him for everything he did for you

[cacti-are-like-flamingos]

Softcore

Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

The Cursed Trio | Artificial Paradise

**Finally finishing up Uni forever --- well, until I decide what to do my Master's on. About to go hard on finals so wish me luck on that. I'm so sorry for the wait!

...

It's been a while since you've had a chance to catch your breath from all the messed-up stuff swirling around in your everyday jujutsu life. A week has passed since that little... "moment" back on Halloween.

Honestly, it was supposed to be a good, vulnerable moment between the three of you — something that should've solidified your bond. But, you can't shake this sense of shame.

Shame for multiple reasons, but the main one is that, for some reason, you feel ashamed for feeling the way you did. For expressing yourself the way you did. That vulnerability you felt in Gojo's arms, watching as Suguru took his own swig from the sake bottle — it frustrated you to no end. Why did you feel so awful just being in the moment? In a way, you felt humiliated for being so raw with others. But at the same time, you argued with yourself that what you did was okay. Of course, you have the right to expression — a right to sensation, a right to feeling.

Yet, you can't help but want to shove that night into the background so those feelings won't sting anymore. Whatever you felt, it's confusing to say the least.

Despite the inner turmoil, you pushed through — the best you could manage for the moment was to shove those feelings aside. Because, let's face it, if you indulged in those thoughts, you'd likely end up diving headfirst into a sea of emotions, drowning in them until it seemed like you'd never felt anything else.

Fortunately, today just so happens to be one of the best distractions imaginable.

It's Ieiri's birthday.

If it weren't for Utahime creating a group chat just for the birthday party, you wouldn't have even known it was Ieiri's birthday.

Originally, Ieiri wasn't keen on doing anything special for her birthday, leaning towards a chill day at the park with some convenience store snacks and her favorite pack of cigarettes. But Utahime insisted, emphasizing that her little kouhei deserved a proper celebration. So, everyone tossed in their own ideas — mainly you, Mei Mei, Utahime, Haibara, and Kento.

Utahime was all about a shopping spree, Mei Mei favored an amusement park, Haibara suggested a classic dinner at a restaurant, and surprisingly, Kento threw in the idea of a night out in Shibuya. Gojo and Suguru were predictably useless; Gojo with his absurd ideas, and Suguru just going with the flow.

Honestly, you didn't pitch in any ideas either. You thought Ieiri's original plan was pretty nice. It felt more intimate than the traditional options. Nevertheless, the idea of hitting Shibuya and diving into the nightlife gained popularity in the group, especially when Gojo realized he could easily charm some pretty girls at the club.

And thus, the steps to heading out to Shibuya began.

Getting Ready

Just like the chaos of preparing for the waterpark months ago, getting ready this time was an absolute mess among the three of you. Especially when Ieiri asked you to help with her makeup — not gonna lie, you had to watch a few YouTube videos just to figure out what the hell to do.

You and Ieiri rushed to the nearest makeup store, searching for budget-friendly brands so you could assist her.

Side note: Ieiri only had the essentials like mascara and lip gloss, but considering it was a night out in one of Japan's busiest areas, she decided to go big with it.

Then there were Suguru and Gojo, bickering about what outfits to wear since they wanted to either match or at least have complementary outfits. This whole matching outfit thing started a few months back when you and Gojo unintentionally showed up with nearly identical outfits, sparking teasing from Suguru and Ieiri. After that, it became a quirky routine to find something that coordinated with the others' clothes.

Side note: Another factor was that each of you had a habit of raiding each other's closets, especially Suguru's, given his penchant for oversized clothing. His wardrobe was practically a hot commodity within your little trio.

The dorm rooms in disarray, small piles of clothes scattered in the hallways from Gojo tossing everything out of his closet, forgetting his door is wide open. Suguru shuttling back and forth between his room and yours, showcasing outfits for judgment, only to grumble and search for another when either you or Ieiri vetoes the look. You, attempting a YouTube tutorial while applying budget foundation on Ieiri's face, accidentally smearing some on the lollipop stick she's perpetually chewing on. The floor becomes a makeup disaster zone as you holler for Gojo to fetch you an outfit from your closet. He barges in, tiptoeing around you, eyeing how you're doing Ieiri's makeup, and can't resist making a comment. Suguru peeks in, curious about the commotion.

Cut to the climax — Gojo and Suguru literally shoving you aside as Gojo grabs the setting powder, tapping it onto the birthday girl's skin, while Suguru crouches beside them, offering ideas for eyeshadow styles and more. Meanwhile, you're rolling your eyes and grappling with the decision of what to wear.

Ah, don't forget the music. Every room has its own soundtrack as everyone gears up individually — each of you with your dedicated playlist for getting ready. Honestly, it's as chaotic as it gets, especially when Yaga storms down, hollering for all of you to clean up the mess while sneakily appreciating Gojo's makeup on Ieiri.

You and Suguru linger in the background, tossing all of Gojo's clothes into the closet without bothering much about hangers and such. That's a problem for future him.

Curious about what Kento and Haibara are up to as they get ready for the night? Well, Kento is bombarding your phone with pictures of potential outfits he's considering. In the background of these photos, you can spot Haibara making faces and waving at you. Midway through this whole ordeal, he even gave you a call. During the conversation, not many words were exchanged; instead, you both used each other's sounds as a sort of background noise while putting on your outfits, only to take them off and start the process anew.

Every now and then, you'd catch Haibara screaming something in the background — usually about not being able to find his favorite socks or some such. Kento, in response, would grumble under his breath before directing him to the last place he saw the elusive socks.

Before long, Mei Mei and Utahime reached the school gates. Yaga guided them to the dorm rooms, and the three of them observed the chaos unfolding with all four of you (Kento and Haibara were on the other side) scrambling around to gather the rest of your stuff.

Gojo was putting the finishing touches on Ieiri's makeup while she tidied up her room. Suguru haphazardly tossed the remainder of his clothes onto his bed, and you dashed to your room with Kento still chatting in your ear while you struggled to put on your shoes. Meanwhile, Utahime was yelling at all of you for leaving such a mess, and Mei Mei chuckled under her breath, commenting on how cute it was that Gojo knew how to do makeup.

On a side note, you had Gojo's glasses, so you had to sidle over to him as he touched up Ieiri's lipstick, all the while putting the glasses on his own face, with Mei Mei cooing in the background.

On the way to Shibuya

The trip to Shibuya isn't long, but as your little group sprints onto the train, time seems to speed up with everyone bickering and bantering. Mei Mei and Gojo are doing their usual banter dance, sprinkled with a few flirty comments here and there. Suguru is engrossed in a deep conversation with Kento near the window, while Ieiri and Utahime chat animatedly with each other.

Haibara is trying to strike up a conversation with you, but for the life of you, you can't seem to respond. It's as if your thoughts are shrouded in a fog. You feel like you're not entirely present, but you desperately want to be—your gaze seemingly lost in space, unfocused.

Before you know it, a warm sensation envelops your hand, grounding you back to reality. Haibara is leaning over you, a slightly concerned expression on his face as he quietly asks if you're alright.

"Are you alright? You seem... off." Blinking away the remnants of your brain fog, you manage a nod and respond with a quick, "Yeah, just, uh, spaced out a bit."

Haibara frowns, "You've been doing that a lot. Did something happen?"

Internally, you think, "What didn't happen?"

Trying to suppress an eye roll at his concern becomes an act of frustration. Why would you do that when it's perfectly fine for him to express concern? After all, he cares about you.

Stop being a fucking bitch.

With a slight, disarming smile, you shrug. "I'm just going through one of those moments—it'll pass eventually. So no need to worry about it." He doesn't seem entirely convinced, but then again, he knows better than to push you for an answer.

You've always been like a brick wall, unyielding and towering. Just when something manages to climb, they only catch a glimpse of the other side before more bricks are piled on, obstructing their view.

With a soft hum, Haibara settles back into the seat beside yours, sinking into his chair before resting his head on your shoulder. He traces small circles on the back of your hand as you attempt to steady your breathing.

Side Note: Kento and Suguru were actually brainstorming ways to cheat on the upcoming exam. The two of them were seriously fried from all the missions, studying, and non-stop testing. Kento floated the idea, and Suguru ran with it. Right now, they're thinking of scribbling the answers on the inside of their collars — they figure it's a safe bet since they've got a solid track record as studious guys.

The Shibuya Scene

It didn't take long before you could sense yourself distancing from your more negative emotions—or, in reality, the closer you got to Shibuya, you pushed yourself to catch the group's infectious energy. You let it flow through you, sweeping all your thoughts, worries, and insecurities to the back of your mind. The bustling crowds on the train, everyone dressed up for the night ahead, helped in the process.

For the first time that day, you could finally breathe as you jumped to your feet, pulling Haibara along with you.

Dragging Haibara along, you hustled over to Suguru, who had kindly volunteered to be the backpack carrier for everyone's stuff. You held the bag for him while he got up from his seat, with Kento standing behind you, attempting to steady a very dizzy and giggling Haibara who quipped, "Well, you bounced back up pretty quick."

If only he knew.

Your initial mission was to grab some food because, for some reason, none of you felt particularly hungry before heading out. But the moment those train doors swung open, Gojo started complaining about how famished he was. He slung his arm over Kento, who was visibly irritated by the gesture. His blonde eyebrows twitched as he attempted to shove the clingy Gojo off.

You stumbled upon this quaint spot called Zuicho—a bit hidden and surprisingly small. Only eight seats were available, but luck was on your side as most of the patrons had left, leaving 7 out of the 8 seats open. The restaurant specialized in katsudon, and despite the limited menu, the reviews were solid, so the group decided, "Why not?" Kento generously offered Ieiri the last available seat while he opted to eat standing, patiently waiting for the lingering customer to vacate the spot.

One stern look from Mei Mei, and the man occupying the final chair hastily scurried away, bowl in hand. This prompted the restaurant staff to shout and chase after the fleeing diner. Surprisingly, Gojo footed the bill for the pilfered bowl, nonchalantly waving his little black card around as if it were of no value whatsoever.

Upon arriving at Shibuya Cross, Mei Mei, accompanied by an exuberant Haibara, suggests the idea of a group picture. Mainly, Mei Mei seizes the opportunity to stand closer to Gojo as everyone finds their spots, enlisting a stranger with tinted glasses to take the photo – another young foreigner, much like yourself. Eventually, the group naturally disperses, exploring the area. Though not old enough for the clubs, curiosity propels your little groups through the bustling streets.

Gojo ends up pulling Suguru toward a group of admiring girls, while Mei Mei attempts conversation with the relatively unresponsive Kento, who keeps an eye on you and Haibara. The two of you are engrossed in a debate over whether to spend money at an intriguing kiosk. Utahime and Ieiri have vanished, likely off seeking possible group activities.

Side note: Utahime brings out a pink sash and a tiara both proclaiming "birthday girl," draping them over Ieiri. Ieiri nearly lunges at Gojo when he manages to snap a photo of her unawares. You and Utahime have to hold her back while Suguru gives Gojo a smack on the back of the head amid his maniacal laughter.

Add-On: Gojo slyly managed to shoot the picture over to Suguru, who sneakily checked it out after Gojo deleted the photo on his phone right in front of Ieiri. Suguru decided to hold onto it, a mischievous grin playing on his face as he and Gojo exchanged a knowing glance.

A while after the photo, something neon catches your eye. Next thing you know, Utahime and Haibara are jumping up and down, excitedly yelling about Mario Kart cars that can be rented out along with onesies.

Suddenly, Utahime is hollering at Kento to find the location on his phone, simultaneously giving his collar a playful tug. Ieiri is genuinely pumped as the gang heads over to Street Kart Shibuya — then comes the dilemma of deciding who gets to rock which onesie. And let me tell you, that turned into a full-blown war. Suguru claimed Pikachu, Gojo insisted on Stitch, Mei Mei initially resisted the whole costume thing but eventually caved, opting for a low-key Mario. Ieiri went with the timeless Winnie the Pooh, Utahime snagged Kirby, Kento happily nabbed Luigi (much to Mei Mei's satisfaction), Haibara transformed into Bowser, and you, my friend, embraced your inner Ninja Turtle.

You all cruised through the streets like there was no tomorrow. Surprisingly, Gojo was the picture of safe driving, while Suguru embraced a bit more recklessness, a wild grin on his face as he zoomed by most of the group. Utahime was hot on his heels, having challenged him to a small race.

Meanwhile, Kento kept to the rear with Mei Mei and you, the three of you just chilling. In the meantime, Ieiri and Haibara engaged in a conversation, shouting over the roar of their engines.

Side Note: Gojo had brought a speaker along, handing it to Kento to carry along with Ieiri's iPod. This way, he could blast her favorite tunes as the group navigated the crowded streets of Shibuya. Pedestrians, mostly spirited and slightly tipsy, cheered and danced on the sidewalks, as they listened to the songs.

It's a miracle none of you crashed.

Side Note: Since none of you could really get into the nightclubs, you ended up just standing outside, huddled together, grooving a bit to the music. You chatted among yourselves while Gojo and Haibara grabbed sodas and snacks from the nearest convenience store, bags swinging from their arms as they passed the drinks around.

Add-On: Ieiri managed to snag a cigarette from a tipsy guy loitering outside the club, and you lit it up for her. Suguru nearly lost his shit when he caught you lighting up Ieiri's cigarette; he assumed you smoked too, and he was this close to giving you a smack for it.

By the end of the night, Utahime and Mei Mei hopped on the train back to Kyoto, catching it before they shut down for the night. Unfortunately, despite Kento's repeated reminders, the rest of you forgot. By the time you reached the station, it had already closed. So, everyone had to trek back to Jujutsu High on foot.

As you stroll along, Ieiri sticks close, a smile playing on her lips as she chuckles at something Haibara said, her fingers briefly brushing against yours. For a moment, you savor the warmth of her touch before sliding your hands into your hoodie pockets. You notice a slight dimming in her eyes, prompting you to remedy it by awkwardly resting your head on her shoulder as you all continue walking, muttering something about how Haibara can be pretty dumb.

Side Note: The speaker has run out of battery by now, so Suguru has Ieiri's iPod in his pocket, playing some random song at a low volume. It serves as background music, adding to the vibe of the stroll.

You can't recall how the night wrapped up — one moment, you're relishing the crisp night air while Gojo and Kento go back and forth, the other two idiots snickering in the background. Then suddenly, you find yourself sprawled on your bed, still decked out in the same clothes from the night out, silently gazing up at the blank expanse of your room's white ceiling.

Your eyes fixate on a piece of paper you taped up there ages ago, its gold lettering shimmering in the ambient lighting. A whirlwind of thoughts swirls through your mind, yet none quite break the surface. For a moment, you exist in the fabric of time, quietly tuning in to Suguru's thunderous snores echoing from the next room.

Suddenly, a text pinged on your phone. You knew instantly who the sender was as you groaned in annoyance and frustration. Crawling to your phone, which had been charging on the nightstand just above your head, you squinted your eyes at the brightness of the screen as you read the message.

Gakuganji

Meeting. End of the month.

You almost wanted to throw a fit as a bubble of dread filled your being. Shutting the phone off, you tossed it to the side before flopping back onto your bed. Red-tinged eyes stared up, once again, at the ceiling.

You never knew an object could also have a fuzzy outline

...

Song Inspo: xanny - Billie Eilish

(A/N):

Oct 22 - Is this like a filler episode? Yes, yes it is. I just wanted some fluff and what better way than with a little Birthday special? 🎆

Nov 14 - Ha, nah. Also, I'm currently obsessed with Megan Thee Stallions new song Cobra.

Originally:

This episode was supposed to be more light-hearted, but once I started typing, your character just took on a life of its own.

At first, Gojo was set on being Pikachu and Suguru, Stitch. However, when I considered the vibes and personas of those characters (admittedly, I don't know much about them), I recalled that Stitch was hella sassy, while Pikachu was pretty mellow. So, it just felt right to pair them up with their corresponding characters.

Originally, Suguru was supposed to drive recklessly, offering a glimpse into his deteriorating mental state and potentially hinting at suicidal tendencies. However, I added a playful dynamic between Utahime and him for a lighter touch, though it can still be interpreted differently.

I didn't plan to wrap up this episode the way I did, but it struck me as a fitting method of foreshadowing.

Gojo caught on to your spaced-out moment on the train, his black-tinted glasses shielding the fact from everyone else. But, his eyes were locked onto you the entire time.

It's one of my shorter episodes, yet it delves into the emotional turmoil your character seems to be constantly navigating, even in situations where it shouldn't be the case, like this relatively peaceful episode. It just goes to show that even when everything seems all right, it really isn't.

Kento took into account Ieiri's personality and preferences, which is why he suggested a simple night out in one of the busiest places in Japan.

Contrary to expectations, Gojo didn't go to flirt with pretty girls. In truth, he just wanted to stay with you and Suguru as a way to compensate for all the isolation he felt.

The act of denying yourself the simple touch of Ieiri's hand holds a deeper meaning; it's a symbol of rejecting affection, perceiving it as a potential threat to your own being. It also mirrors your reluctance to allow her into your personal space. Yet, in your attempt to spare her sorrow, you seek alternative paths. However, this action is also symbolic of your manipulative tendencies. On one side, you're indifferent to the possibility of causing her pain, yet on the other, you strive to maintain a facade of camaraderie. It's a double-edged blade, where the latter is the subtler but significant edge.

Usually, when someone puts something on the ceiling, it's often a way to convey that the person attaches some hope or sentiment to the object. It's like they're looking forward to it or, at the very least, it holds strong sentimental value.

The piece of paper taped to the ceiling is a direct reference to a previous episode. Did you ever figure out to whom the card belonged? And why is it taped to the ceiling?

A meeting at the end of the month? What's that about?

Yet, the lingering question persists: What exactly is your relationship with Gakuganji?

...

Drop a comment!

Feel free to donate me a🦩

Hope you enjoyed!

[reccyls]

Babysitting Warlords and the Littlest Princess (Part 3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

From a collection event where Mai gets turned into a child.

---

After Mai vanished from the meeting hall, the warlords split up to search the castle. Kanetsugu and Keiji made their way to the kitchens.

Keiji: Is she going to be here?

Kanetsugu: Children are easily attracted to the smell of food. Kanetsugu: She left in the middle of dinner last night. If she's feeling hungry, she'll probably be led here.

Keiji: It can't be that ea... Wait, that's her!

As Kanetsugu predicted, Mai was standing in the kitchens. And she was reaching a little hand towards the lit coal stove...

Keiji: Hey!!

Mai: !?

Keiji grabbed Mai just before she made contact with the stove. The two of them quickly carried Mai, who had frozen in surprise, out of the kitchen.

Keiji: What were you doing? That was really dangerous.

Mai: Sorry... I'm sorry. It smelled so good...

Afraid that he was angry at her, Mai looked down at the floor. Kanetsugu sighed, and pulled a small pouch from his sleeve.

Kanetsugu: Have some of this. It will tide you over until dinner.

Mai: Steamed buns!

Keiji: Hold up, why are you carrying manjuu around anyway?

Kanetsugu: Lord Shingen asked me to buy some for him while keeping it a secret from Yukimura.

Mai happily began to nibble on a manjuu. Seeing as she seemed to have calmed down, Keiji and Kanetsugu exchanged a look of relief.

Keiji: Why don't we head out to shop for snacks? Seems to keep her under control.

Kanetsugu: That's a terrible idea. What if she gets lost?

Keiji: Aw, come on, there's two of us to watch her. It's not like she's going to just vanish-- Keiji: Wait, where'd she go!?

Kanetsugu: You just had to say something... Let's go, she can't be far.

After the two of them had left, Mai peeked out from behind a pillar, looking around.

Mai: Hmm? They're gone...? The butterfly is also gone... Mai: ...I want more snacks...

Looking out at the gardens plaintively, Mai suddenly remembered something.

Mai: Shopping, snacks!

Recalling Keiji's words, Mai began running, until...

Hideyoshi: Found you.

[kaylatoonz]

Evil grows in the dark and heroes bloom in the light

This idea feels more of an AU than a possibility of this happening in the SCU but it is fun to write/draw nonetheless.

This idea is inspired by the Sonic Fleetway comics, tangled, and Lion King 2: Simba’s Pride.

(I made this before I knew if Jim Carry was returning as Eggman in any future installment, just to let you know)

After the events of the third movie, Eggman is defeated once again this time at the cost of his life. Agent Stone is devastated at the loss of HIS doctor and wants vengeance against Sonic and his friends. Unfortunately, he would have to bide his time and lay low until the heat died down. With the ultimate weapon loss, he scavenges G.U.N base one last time in search of anything from Eggman or the government to use against Sonic in the future.

During the search, Stone discovers a brown hedgehog in a cryo-chamber similar to the one Shadow was found in. After looking into some files, he learns the subject, Project Rose seems to be a failed attempt at re-creating a more docile version of Project Shadow (to control better) years after Shadow was deemed too dangerous. At first, Stone was appalled by the idea of using another alien mutant to progress his plans for revenge, it hadn’t worked out the last two times! Not having a lot of options he took his chance with this creature, deciding that he would play his cards carefully this time and dispose of the beast as soon as possible if necessary.

Months later, Agent Stone, discovered like Shadow she has a connection to chaos energy, though a lot weaker and more unstable. Similar to when his doctor wielded the master emerald power, she can create anything from the material she’s offered. She also has supernatural strength, enhanced athletic/acrobatic, an unexplainable sixth sense, and cloaking abilities.

The only downside is that her powers are more limited compared to Shadow or Sonic and even seem to put a lot of strain on her body. He predicts that her body will expire in a matter of months or a year at best. Not that he cared as long as he got his revenge on Sonic, she would be one less problem to deal with once he was done, anyway.

Since Agent Stone doesn’t have the vast intelligence of his beloved doctor he settles with using Amy to create complex machinery. By night he causes trouble for Sonic heroes making sure they never forget the doctor (the team doesn’t know Agent Stone is the one causing trouble). By day he brings back material and blueprints he managed to scavenge during his nightly ventures.

Each day, Rose would create machinery, and weapons, unbeknownst to her that aided him in his conquest to destroy the blue pest and his friends. Unfortunately, for him, despite having many of the doctor's glorious blueprints and plans at hand, none have come close to destroying his foes.

Rose could easily see Mr. Stone’s frustration whenever he returned from his “night job”. Wanting to cheer her guardian up, she decided to sneak out and gather some material to make Mr. Stone happy. Rose, never having been outside, is quickly enamored by the luscious forest and flowers. So much so that she didn’t notice a blue blue until he was right on top of her.

Stone had relocated his base Of operation from the coffee shop to the depth of the forest of Greenhills. so it was a matter of time before Rose was at the “wrong” place at the “wrong” time resulting in her encountering the blue blur.

After untangling themselves they get a good look at each other and both are shocked. Sonic was in shock due to meeting another hedgehog who had hauntingly familiar eyes, leaving him gawking at the girl like an idiot. While Rose is shocked to meet another creature like herself but with such beautiful quills. Rose is quick to excitedly shoot questions out to the shell-shocked hedgehog. Before Rose could get a response from the blue hedgehog she sensed Agent Stone returning to the base so cut the meeting short. She quickly grabbed one of the daisies she dropped early and suggested they meet here again sometime to get to know each other better. Again before Sonic can respond the hedgehog girl disappears before his eyes (literally).

Upon returning to the base Rose decides to keep her meeting with the mysterious blue hedgehog secret for now, not wanting to get in trouble for sneaking out. She didn’t think a two-petal daisy would cheer up Mr. Stone or make up for running off. Things progress like usual with Mr. Stone, bringing in material and blueprints of bots to practice her creation ability. The session goes on like any other until Rose’s mind can’t help but wander back to the blue hedgehog. And unbeknownst to her it influences her powers to create the head of a metallic blue hedgehog instead of a plain android like the blueprint. Noticing her mistake, Rose quickly tries to apologize and explain herself though Stone calmly brushes it off. Stone smiles at Rose for the first time in a while (if ever) and tells her that she is on to something and this may be her best work yet. So before Rose could exhaust herself for today, he excused her from their session for today and sent Rose to her room.

Behind closed doors, Agent Stone was a bit furious that the insolent creature had shown its first sign of disobedience and interacted with the blue menace nonetheless! But that didn’t matter for now her day would be numbered soon enough. Now he had the perfect plan to destroy that hedgehog in the best way possible thanks to his little rose. He would build that robot in that blue rat likeness, using any information gathered from Rose and Sonic’s meetings ( assuming the ungrateful girl will sneak off to see the blue rat again). Then when the sonic bond with the rose reaches its highest, Stone would tear it away from him(just as Sonic did to him) using Sonic's image. Then his friends and family before lastly the blue hedgehog who would most likely be more than broken when Stone strikes the final blow.

Unfortunately for Stone, his plans don’t go exactly as planned. With each meeting, Sonic and Rose's bond grows stronger, and Rose learns and grows. Through Sonic she learns what real healthy love (familial, platonic, and romantic) looks like which eventually helps her realize something up with Mr. Stone. Sadly by the time she comes to this conclusion, Stone has initiated his plans leaving Sonic to believe that she betrayed him. Wanting to right this wrong Rose lends her aid to team Sonic to defeat the metal monster of her creation. With the chaos emeralds and Rose's help, they were able to defeat Metal Sonic and Agent Stone, but at the cost of Rose's life. The battle she had put herself through, pushed her body to the limit, exhausting all the chaos energy that was meant to keep her alive and stable. Devastated sonic kneels down to his rose, holding her close begging, her to wake up. Stone takes satisfaction in the fact that despite his failure he had given Sonic a taste of how he felt when he took his doctor away.

As Agent Stone is taken in by the G.U.N agents Sonic pays them no mind as he desperately tries to offer up as much chaos energy to Rose’s body in hopes of reviving her. It seemingly has some effect on the hedgehog girl as her quills go from brown to pink and when her eyes eventually open they are a bolder green compared to his own.

Bonus context:

Agent Stone is the type of man who would take satisfaction in a loss if it means, he leaves his enemy physically or mentally scarred. (in the IDW pre-quill comic. He was pretty intimidating so I wanted to go the extra step). he doesn’t care about ruling the world like Eggman (nothing matters if Eggman can’t be the one on top in the end). He just wants to hurt Sonic and his friends/family as much as he can.

In the beginning, Sonic keeps his meeting between him and Rose secret for selfish reasons. Sonic loved his brothers but sometimes he wanted some things or someone to himself (sonic still adjusting to sharing with his brothers). After the ordeal with Shadow, sonic also wanted some semblance of peace or escapism from the trauma. It isn’t until Sonic starts to notice that Rose’s home life might not be so great that Sonic starts to get his brothers and parents involved. Because of this sonic still feels guilty that he could’ve done something sooner.

After watching Disney’s Tangled with the Wachowskis, Amy teasingly calls Sonic her Rapunzel while Sonic insists that it’s the other way around.

Agent Stone is basically mother Gothel to Rose, so she has experienced a lot of gaslighting and guilt-tripping from Stone.

Rose takes up the name Amy as her first name a few months after she leaves Stone's custody. Despite her name coming from a dark place (Project Rose) she wants to keep it while adding something new to it representing the start of her new life as Amy Rose.

Sonic thinks Amy looks beautiful before and after her transformation.

After spending some time at the Wackowski‘s recovering, Amy takes off on her own leaving a note to Sonic explaining how she is going to explore the world for herself and promising that they’ll meet again. Sonic is a bit sad at first but lightens up in the hopes of meeting her again.

If Shadow is still alive and crosses paths with Amy, he would consider her his little sister and do anything to protect her after learning about her connection to him.

Agent Stone would be on Shadow’s kill list after finding out what that man put his sister through.

Shadow would probably gatekeep Amy from Sonic.

[mazeinthemiroh]

you need a holiday [part 3]

pairing: hongjoong x best friend! reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers, slow burn / slow romance, comfort, slight crack

word count: 1.2k

warnings: cursing, allusions to mental health issues

summary: hongjoong is surprised to find himself at the airport. he didn't think he could do it, but here he was, a suitcase clutched in his hand as he marched to find you.

author's notes: you can find part 1, part 2 , and part 4 here. thanks for all your support for the past two! this part is getting more into the romance/fluff territory, which you guys have been awaiting! i hope you guys enjoy <3 part 4 will be coming out soon ~

'I think your little friend will be joining you after all.'

That's the text you received last night from Wooyoung. And God, you hoped he was right. But still, there was a lot of uncertainty with Hongjoong.

Considering how he has been recently, you couldn't predict his behaviours. He was usually quite a predictable guy. He ordered the same drink at the coffee shop, he painted his nails to match his current hair colour, and he reacted the same way each time when you told him to take a break.

Take a break.

Those words echoed through Hongjoong's mind as he bounded through the airport, the handle of his suitcase clutched in his hand as his pace quickened. His face was covered by a simple white mask, and he wore a black beanie on his head, pulled down to cover his forehead fully.

He felt stressed, agitated. It was only when he saw you, sitting in the seating area and scrolling on your phone, that he felt himself relax. His shoulders dipped as he let out a deep, hearty sigh. 'Breathe,' he told himself, 'Breathing is good.'

Honjoong finally decided to move, before he stood in front of you, releasing the suitcase from his hands so that the handle collided with the floor, making you look up from your phone.

Your eyes were wide at his abrupt appearance, but soon replaced by a knowing look and a small grin.

"Hey, sexy. Fancy seeing you here."

The plane was completely full. A baby in the back was already screeching at the top of its lungs, and the plane wasn't in the sky yet. Many people get themselves organised into their seats, some arguing over which seat number was who's. Suitcases and backs were flung into the compartments at the top. It wasn't was Hongjoond was used to.

Recently, due to his lavish work lifestyle, he had the privilege of travelling more privately, with the comfort of himself and the members, no one else. Travelling so publicly was putting him on edge a bit, along with the fact that he had felt he had abandoned his work for a couple of days of bliss.

Was it going to be worth it?

"Nice fit," you complimented him as your eyes flicked through the brochure of good the plane service provided. Hongjoong was, in fact, wearing a hoodie you bought him for his birthday. He exhaled through his nose and nudged you playfully, before smoothing down his clothes and making sure he was comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you could be when you had limited foot room.

"So," your voice was bright and chipper. You seemed to thrive in the morning hours, while Hongjoong was a night owl. It made your dynamic feel a bit off, with Hongjoong behaving unintentionally like a grumpy cat. You wanted to squish his cheeks and ruffle his hair aggressively, but you figured he'd probably bite you. "What made you change your mind about this trip?"

Hongjoong sighed and gazed out the window. He eyed the stairs being taken away from the side of the plane. The engines were on and rearing to go. This was it.

"You hounded on at me. Then Seonghwa. And then Eden," Hongjoong's hands reached up to touch his chapped lips, before diving into his hoodie pocket in search of his lip balm. "So what choice did I have?"

You hummed, not sure how to feel about his answer.

"Sounds like you're getting weaker, Captain," you teased, whilst dragging out your own lip balm for him to use (he seemed to be having immense trouble trying to find his own.) He gave you a nod of thanks and smoothed the balm over his lips, letting out a small laugh at your comment.

"My friends and my crew have eroded my fierceness over the years," he joked, "I'm all soft now. People will no longer fear me."

"People never feared you," you snorted and rolled your eyes, "you think you're an actual pirate?"

Hongjoong was always very aware that he might intimidate people. He never wanted to. But perhaps he was so serious about work or so focused on saying the right things in social situations that, when he was by himself, he would think he was too intense. He was oh so aware of himself, and it drove him crazy.

But he always assumed the worst. You knew no one disliked him because, well, how could they? A leader, trying his hardest to get everything into place, striving for perfection whilst being considerate and compassionate and caring for everyone involved. There was nothing to be afraid of with him. He was honest, truthful, genuine; people knew what they were going to get with him. And there was nothing to be afraid of about that.

The cabin crew went through all the safety procedures. The usual seat-belt, life-jacket, oxygen-mask shenanigans. And then you felt the plane move onto the runway.

"It's like in Turbulence," Hongjoong hummed, trying to make light of the situation despite his confused emotions as he gazed out the window, "it was so cool watching Wooyoung film his part on the runway-"

He turned to face you and his face turned to be full of worry as he caught sight of your low gaze and heavier breathing.

"Hey, what's up," his voice was filled with concern. The plane shook slightly.

You raised your gaze to meet his slightly, "It just freaks me out when the plane takes off. The shaking the loudness, the uncertainty. I know, it's me being silly but-"

"You're not silly," Hongjoong shook his head, "It's going to be okay."

You nodded and stared intently, eyes sparkling a bit. He was a very affirming presence, and would always put other's worries ahead of his own. It was how he coped. If he wasn't focusing on his own problems, he was less likely to worry about them. Caring for other people was such an alluring conviction for him.

"Can I hold your hand?" You asked quietly, so quietly that you thought he had imagined it at first. "Just for the lift-off?"

Hongjoong's lips parted as he looked at you softly, his hand already edging to yours. And when he grasped your hand in his, it was strong and affirming. A gentle squeeze of reassurance, telling you it was all going to be okay.

The plane shook as it sped up, shooting down the runway to gain momentum. Your grip on his hand tightened and your eyes were closed, trying to relax your breathing. He kept an eye on you, his thumb stroking the outside of your hand for an extra tingle of assurance.

A moment more, and the plane was in the air. You let out a sigh of relief and opened your eyes. Still alive.

"You alright?" Hongjoong asked, a small smile on his lips. He already looked like he was starting to relax, himself. Being up in the air must have confirmed to him that he was going on holiday. A vacation. A break. And no matter how bad he felt for leaving work so abruptly, he couldn't help but feel a small, guilty pleasure about it.

"Yeah," you nodded, "thank you."

You both smiled at each other and gazed down, suddenly realising you were still holding each other's hands.

Releasing your grip on each other, you laughed the brief awkwardness away. You felt heat rise to your cheeks, trying not to think much of it.

But Hongjoong started to miss your touch already.

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