#scuttle is very special to me

[apile0fb0nes]

Finally got around to making my moomins oc recently :3

So this is scuttle! Originally I wanted to figure out a way to make him a turtle, since I thought scuttle was a cute turtle name. But I ended up making him whatever species Snuff was lol. I might make a few tweaks to his design here and there but this is pretty much him!!! I was gonna give him some stripes on his tail but I kinda forgot, oops.

Anyways! Scuttle lives just outside of moomin valley, and he’s a reporter/journalist! I love him very much.

[joeloverture]

fair's fair | pervy!dbf!joel x f!reader

masterlist | notifs blog

pairing: pervy!dbf!joel x pervy!f!reader summary: [no outbreak] joel shoves you in his sweaty pits as a 'joke'. warnings: (18+ mdni) pervy!dbf!joel, age gap (early to mid 20s/38), somewhat mutual pining & sexual tension, joel in a wifebeater and jorts, reader has hair, smacking joel's ass like god intended, degradation, sweaty!joel, musk kink, armpit kink!!!, coming untouched, joel calls reader 'kiddo', 2 spanks, m!masturbation [no use of y/n] word count: 2.1k a/n: in another life, i'd be sorry for this fic. in this life, i am not. as always, a shoutout to the effervescent @lovesickonmybed for moodboard curation + creating this au. love to @seventeenpins for taking a glimpse at this + inspiring me. ty esquire team.... hooooly shit. pls suspend your disbelief if you can't come untouched we're here for a good time not a realistic one. btw you're all pussies for chickening out of the pit fics you 'planned' to write after this esquire photo fell into our laps /j

You awake to a rattling crash on the other side of the wall that you share with your dad’s combination garage/man cave. With an exaggerated groan, you peel yourself out of your creased sheets. Maybe the raccoons that have been terrorizing your garbage cans have finally broken into the garage. You’re still in your pajamas — a low-cut tank top and some bloomers that are entirely too short on you — when you rub the sleep from your eyes and shove your feet into your slippers to investigate. 

The house is quieter than dust so early in the morning. Your dad’s out at work, and the rest of the neighborhood is just beginning to wake up. There’s the tstststststs of the Adler’s sprinkler system and the birds are chirping. In the mudroom, you snatch up a broom and wrap your fist around it. You listen through the paneling of the door for any hissing or scuttling, but hear nothing. You are not looking to get rabies today.

You poke your head out of the door, broom pointed at the ground like a staff. Immediately, you’re blinded by a slice of sunshine cutting through the very much open garage.

You’re about two seconds away from sprinting back inside to call 911 when you see the unkempt, sunkissed hair of none other than Joel Miller.

You set the broom gently back against the wall. Joel’s not a threat – at least not to anything but that traitor between your legs. He’s just your dad’s buddy; drinking buddy, fishing buddy, jack-of-all-trades buddy. He’s also no stranger to those borderline goo-goo eyes you give him. How could you not? He’s just so broad and muscled and God, you swear up and down that you stare more at his ass than anyone has ever stared at yours.

Sometimes, if you’re lucky, he’ll even give you shit about it. Bending over directly in your line of sight at block parties, ‘play wrestling’ with you on the dock by the lake whenever you jokingly call him an old man, or, in one very special instant, giving your ass a smack that sent you into an hours long tizzy.

You deserve to give him shit about it, too.

After all, he’s the one ferreting around in your dad’s garage in the wee hours of the morning. You pad into the garage, footsteps muffled by your slippers as you navigate around your dad’s pickup. You catch a better look at Joel when you pass the truck bed. And, for better or for worse, he’s dressed like a slut.

His ribbed white wifebeater stretches over his wide chest, grass stains scattered along the small of his back. Sweat darkens the hems of his shirt under his armpits, glistening and beading on the back of his neck, too. In true dad fashion, he even has on jorts. He’s bent over your dad’s tool bench, thumbing around an assortment of screwdrivers. His denim-covered ass sticks out. A smile spreads across your face.

You slip around the truck and take soft step after soft step until you’re right behind him. You can’t help but notice a cocktail of his pheromones and B.O. surrounding him. He must’ve been outside for a while now with all of the stains he’s accumulated on his shirt already. You keep your breathing muted so he can’t hear you as you reach out and — smack!

Joel shrieks, shooting upright. His head slams into the shelf overhead and a few bolts go toppling onto the concrete below. He cusses like a sailor as his hand goes up to rub the back of his head, nursing where a lump will probably be in a few hours time. Joel whips around to see you, smothering your giggles behind your hand. “You little shit,” he huffs, still scratching at his head. You don’t miss how his cheeks are firetruck red. “The fuck are ya doin’?”

“Me? The fuck are you doing, Miller? Stomping around my dad’s garage at, like, the asscrack of dawn–”

“Nine in the mornin’ ain’t the asscrack of dawn, sweetcheeks,” Joel says. Then, he holds up a set of pliers. “Mower shit the bed. I’m thinkin’ Sarah stole my pliers to make necklaces, but she hasn’t fessed up yet. Your pops said I could borrow his.” He stretches, giving you a long whiff of his scent. The groan he lets out stirs something in your stomach, much to your chagrin.

“I think the mower is the least of your worries,” you say, wrinkling your nose. “You reek. Shower shit the bed, too?”

“You try doin’ yard work in 90 degree heat, kiddo. See how much you smell like that strawberry raspberry peach whatever-the-fuck soap you’re usin’.”

You roll your eyes so hard you’re surprised you don’t see the back of your skull. “Rosemary eucalyptus,” you correct under your breath.

“Hmm, what was that?” Joel asks, tossing the pliers down onto the workbench. “Gotta speak up.”

“Rosemary eucalyptus,” you say. “But I bet you wouldn’t know. What do you use? 18 in 1?”

Joel grunts. “Real funny.” He takes a step closer to you, lips taut with a smirk. “How ‘bout you find out?”

You don’t have time to question what the hell he means – he just cups the back of your head with one of his wide palms and shoves your face directly into his closest sweaty pit. “Mmmmph!” you protest, mouth sealed shut against the thatch of hair that’s spattered across his skin. You hold your breath for as long as you can, but eventually, you’re forced to suck in a breath through your squished nose. His musk, sweet and just as sharp, fills your airways. Your clit all but jerks between your legs in humiliation, drawing a whine out of your throat.

Joel chuckles, ruffling your hair. It’s enough to make your thighs clench. “You’re a little freak, huh?” He presses harder on the back of your head, so much so that you almost get a mouthful of his underarm.

“Youuu dick!” you try to say without opening your mouth too far. It comes out muffled against his sweat-pearled skin. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push him off of you.

Another wry chuckle comes from above. Joel bends his arm so that his elbow is wrapped around the back of your head, effectively trapping you in his funk. “Come on, huff ‘em. Practically fuckin’ asking for it earlier, all ‘a that mouthin’ off. So now you get a mouthful of my pits. Fair’s fair, kiddo.”

Embarrassment ribbons through your body, the kind that makes you leak into your panties against your will. Still looking for a way out, you squirm against his ironclad hold.

It’s only good for making him land a heavy-hitting slap across your ass. You yelp, a new wave of slick saturating the drenched gusset of your panties. You jump where you are, hips bucking into nothing – for escape or pressure, you’re not entirely sure. “Unless you wanna go over my knee instead?” Your face sears with humiliation.

Tentatively, you snuffle a bit against his pit, biting into your cheeks at his musk. It makes you cough a little bit – he’s been carrying the smell of cutting grass and his own sweat all morning.

“Yeah, thought so. But you can do better than that, sweetcheeks. I said huff, not fake an asthma attack.” You whimper, this time sucking in a longer breath. Here he is, holding you down, secure against his pit as you're left with no other option than to take what he gives you, when he gives it to you. All you can smell, feel, touch is just Joel, Joel, Joel. It makes you lightheaded.

Your clit is practically a kickdrum between your thighs, pulsing and doing more work than your head. You try to angle yourself so that you can rub your clit against Joel’s leg, but he puts a stop to that real quick. “Gettin’ all wound up just from being where ya belong, your pretty little face in my pit?” You mewl, reaching for Joel’s sides. You bunch your fists in the fabric of his wifebeater, and he allows it.

“Since you’re so eager to complain about it, how ‘bout you clean me up, huh?” He nudges his pit against your face again, and, confusedly, you furrow your brows. You can’t see much of him, but you do see the edge of his mouth tip up in satisfaction. “You got rocks for brains? Lick, kiddo.”

Hesitance drives the soft kitten lick of your tongue, swiping up and down across a very small portion of his pit. He loosens up on his grip on you, giving you the slightest bit more reign. You try to tell yourself that you’re scared of what he might do if you disappoint him, but hell if you don’t want this as much as he does, tongue, nose, face buried in his pits. Some sort of ultimate form of worship between the two of you.

You lave your tongue across his pit, eyes fluttering with each stroke. You swirl it in the crease of his arm, sucking his goddamn hairs clean with the fervor you’ve picked up. Enthused now, you bob your head up and down. Your clit responds, throbbing with a heartbeat of its own.

You’re panting, inhaling and exhaling him, lapping up his musk like a fucking dog, gone from reluctant to eager. Your clit twitches faster and faster, and you swear that arousal must be tacky on the insides of your thighs, leaking through your panties all over the front of your bloomers, but you can’t do anything about it. You can’t even grind against Joel – you can only slurp against his armpit, something like desperation having replaced all of your previous mortification from when he’d shoved you there in the first place.

You’re so preoccupied with pleasing him that you don’t even notice the thumping of your clit, picking up speed and pressure. Your body seizes in between your greedy little licks. You feel yourself weaken before you stiffen.

And maybe it’s the way Joel keeps groaning with each movement of your tongue. It could be how he exhales, “Kiddo,” in a raspy voice, both demeaning and endearing all at once. But in the end, it’s how he says, “Mmmm, such a good goddamn tongue. Bet it’d feel so good on my cock,” that breaks the dam between your legs.

You shudder, coming completely undone with little moans and whimpers in Joel’s arms without so much as a hand on your clit, just your face smothered in his pit. Drool runs down your lips and across your chin as you jerk and weaken in his grasp. If you weren’t so underwater, so far gone, you’d be able to hear him saying, “Fuck – whoa, whoa, whoa,” trying to stop you from falling on your ass in the middle of the garage. His hands card across your sides as he props you up against the workbench. Your vision blackens at the edges from the intensity of your orgasm, and you’re still coming, at least you think you are, when you blink yourself back to awareness. You’re wide-eyed, tears brimming at your waterline, incapacitated in a way that you didn’t know you could be.

“Holy shit,” you gasp when you finally fully come to, slumped over the workbench, still half-clinging to Joel. “Fuck.”

Joel looks stunned, looking you up and down as if he can’t get enough of you. His eyes land right between your thighs, where, sure enough, you’ve ruined your bloomers. You still feel like deadweight, and you struggle to stand upright. You’re not sure you’ve ever come so hard even with someone’s hands all over your. Joel’s glistening with even more sweat, and it’s impossible to miss the glaring bulge in his shorts. He clears his throat after a minute. “Oughta go get cleaned up before your daddy gets back for his lunch break, kiddo.”

You stumble upright, drenched in sweat yourself now, Joel’s lingering scent still pervading every breath you take. “Y-yeah,” you manage, nodding. You feel out of your own body, stumbling towards the door. You’re so wet that you can feel it with every goddamn step. Fuck Joel Miller, cocky piece of sh–

You’re immediately returned to your own body by the resounding swat Joel lands on your ass. You jump, shooting a glare over your shoulder. He puts his hands up, pleading innocence.

You’re not surprised when you crawl out of your shower, smelling of rosemary eucalyptus and dripping water all over the floor, only to see Joel’s mower abandoned in the middle of his yard. Even worse, you aren’t surprised in the slightest when you squint through your bedroom window, Joel sprawled out across his bed, hips bucking in-time with his fist before catching your eye and spraying ropes of cum all over his abdomen.

You mouth at him through the window with a taunting little wink, Clean yourself up this time.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

I know you wrote something similar. Can I request Valentino finding an excuse to spank bunny reader who's usually very obedient. She isn't doing anything bad compared to a lot of the other stars. He just reached for an excuse to tell Y/N she's naughty and spank her. She's perfectly fine with being spanked because she secretly loves it.

Smut plz!!

woooot i love bunny reader! thank you so much for this request sorry it took me forever to get to it i have been busy, i hope you enjoy it. also sorry it’s short but it was nice writing something that was short and easy to break the block <3

warnings: SMUT 18+, fingering only, spanking kink, valentino, unhealthy relationship dynamics, bunny reader, pet names, val’s a dick but like not always to you, not proofread i’m lazy teehee, i think that’s it? swearing :)

Valentino watched you prancing around the studio, your little tail flickering behind you. He tasked you will setting out some refreshment for the stars as you weren’t currently on the job, just here to watch and sit pretty alongside your Tino.

You were royalty around here and everyone knew it, you were Valentino’s yesman, he asked you did, he beckoned you followed. Lucifer forbid anyone made a mistake around you, you’d go hopping straight to the big boss, snitching to Valentino about what the others did.

You rarely got punished as well, Valentino never really attempted to quell his anger issues or explosive episodes, but when it came to his little bunny, he thought twice. You were a sensitive little demon and though he couldn’t care less about the tears- the fits you threw weren’t worth the short satisfaction of yelling at you. So it came to everybody in the studios surprise when Valentinos wings splayed out wide, scowl on his face as he watched you bend over to pick up the cup you had knocked over.

You looked over your shoulder and up at him, his body cascading shadows over you, wings out and hairs on end. Your lip puckered out as you stood, cup in hand, liquid on the floor. “Aí bunny you know better then this. All these expensive wires and cables. I can’t do my job without them.” Valentino hissed glaring down at your through his glasses, your ears had fallen behind you sad and droopy.

“I’m sorry Val, I won’t do it again.” You squeaked out meekly, not used to being at the receiving end of his anger. “No, you won’t,” Valentino hummed out voice laced with false kindness. “Private room.” The moth cooed at you, wings falling to his side as he turned and walked off toward said private room.

The others in the studio looked at you with little remorse, everyone had to put up with his anger, you weren’t special or getting any pity because you’re finally facing Val on one of his short temper days. Tears clouded your eyes, blurring the room as you walked, thankfully seeing wasn’t needed as you had the studio layout memorized.

You walked into the private room on autopilot thinking of all the mean things Valentino was going to say to you. Opening the door, Valentino sat, your surprise, calmly. Sucking large huffs of hot pink smoke into his lungs he waited, legs and wings splayed out, just for you. Closing the door behind you, you stood stiff by it awaiting to be told what to do.

Valentinos hand lifted, finger beckoning come hither, his gaze fixed in front of him not even looking at you. Frowning, you scuttled over like the prey you were until you reached his stuck out knee. That’s when he looked at you, removing his sunglasses he grinned widely. “You know, I hate to punish such a pretty whore, but ah, that’s how it is~” Everything he said was smooth and sultry, making your legs inadvertently clench. Patting his thighs with one set of arms, the other left arm coming up to the small of your back. “Bend over~ I won’t bite,” As you bent over his thighs, he leaned down and whispered in your hear: “Yet.” Before darkly chuckling.

It started with one wack, but it progressed quickly ending with him kneading your ass with two of his hands, with one stayed attached to his pipe. “Look at’chu baby, you’re a mess~” He sneered at you pulling your skimpy underwear to the side to play with the slick you had accumulated. “All for you, you’re the only one who can get me off without the cams,” You admit breathlessly between whines of pleasure.

Valentino chuckled darkly, slowly and teasingly filling you with two of his long fingers. A groan of pleasure with full timbre echoed within your chest at the feeling of him, not only did he have you off in some room like the whore you were for him, but he wasn’t really mad. He realistically wouldn’t have been so quick and kind with his affections.

“I bet you spilt it on purpose, just to have me spread you out, filthy thing.” Valentino spoke with an amused tone as he watched you squirm agaisnt his slow prodding. “Yes always want your attention,” You whined attempting to back up into the pimps thrusts, but he kissed his teeth disapprovingly at you. “Oh little conejita, you’ve been so good, i’ll give you mercy.” Without another word Valentinos finger’s vigorously thrusted in and out of you, curling to hit that spongey spot inside of you. Gripping his thigh, you cried out and wheezed the last of your breath as your orgasm came rough and fast. Stars twinkled uncomfortably in your vision as your felt his warm fingers leave your body, making you whimper.

Above you Valentino licked his fingers clean, long tongue slithering around his digits like a starved man. With an evil giggle, he pushed you off his lap and stood. “Maybe next time i’ll give you all of me, hmm?” You groaned at his remark, lifting yourself up enough to watch you leave, you’ll definitely have to get him back for this.

[lavenderprose]

"Would you love me if I was a crab?"

The responses are immediate and exactly what Ed should have expected: Stede's eyes go big, he offers a wide smile and his voice goes high and indulging as he says, "Of course! I would make a special little tank for you--"

Izzy, on his other side, rolls his eyes and says nothing at all.

There are a few crabs scuttling along this stretch of beach, washed ashore by a storm last night. They're still trying to get their bearings and make their way back to sea, presumably. Ed has counted four of them as they walk. He doesn't know if they're the kind of crabs you eat. He doesn't know if there's such a thing as crabs you can't eat.

Stede is still talking.

"Of course, we would have to make sure that the water is of the right salinity, and it might be hard to communicate, but perhaps we could invent some form of semaphore involving pincers--" Here he forms his hands into two approximations of claws and snaps his thumbs against his fingers repeatedly. "Snap snap. Something like that."

"No way to live," Izzy says then, and when Ed looks at him it seems like even he's surprised he spoke. He looks uneasy with it, like the thought had escaped rather than being released. He's been walking somewhat separate, his pace matching that of Ed and Stede but several feet further up the beach where the sand isn't so damp. Stede has had his arm looped through Ed's and they've been walking in lockstep, murmuring to each other about the lovely bright morning sun and the crisp smell of the ocean, and about Stede's newly-bought swim-cover he's wearing and about lunch. Come to think, this is the first time Ed has heard Izzy speak all morning.

"What's that, dear?" Stede asks, still distracted by his own hands. He mutters something to himself that sounds like And this could mean I'm hungry as he pokes his pinched hands towards his stomach.

"In a tank," says Izzy. His arms are folded against his body, he's turned towards Ed and Stede and the calm surf washing up the beach. The sun hits his eyes and makes them look brighter, green like seaglass. "If you were a...crab."

"Say I wanted to live in a tank?" Ed mutters, feeling weirdly defensive. "If Stede wanted to put me in a tank and keep me safe--"

"No way to live," Izzy says, shrugging. "Might be nice for a little while, but you'd get bored in a tank. You'd start trying to escape, try to wedge your pincers through the lid of--" He moves his hands for a moment, almost as though to pantomime like Stede, then scowls at himself at stops. Shrugs again. "We couldn't keep you."

"Would we know it was you?" Stede asks then, like this is crucial information. Ed doesn't know why the conversation has taken this turn, even though he was the one to ask, but he feels like his heart might break a little if they can't come to a consensus about what to do with Crab-Ed.

"Yeah," says Ed, "You'd know it was me because it would be like...a sea-witch curse or something."

"Oh! Well then we would just find a way to break the curse." Stede nods, smiling sagely and confident in his wisdom.

"You can't," Ed says, hurriedly and suddenly nervous. "It's permanent. Can't break it, I'm gonna be a crab forever."

"Would you still think like you?" Stede asks. Izzy, utterly quiet, stares towards the horizon like if he glares hard enough, the sun will descend from the sky and end the conversation.

"Yeah, yeah. Ed Teach brain, tiny crab body."

"Well that complicates it--"

"Why are we talking about this again?" Izzy mutters, still squinting towards the sun like it's personally insulted him. "If Edward were a crab, he'd have to do crab things. We'd do human things. End of."

Stede frowns. "Well the question wasn't about what we would do with our Ed-crab. It was would we love him."

Izzy snorts, and Ed feels a strange spike of dread right up until Izzy mutters, "Of course," in a way that says he thinks the answer is very obvious, and the question very redundant. When he realizes that Ed and Stede are both staring at him, he shifts his stance and cards a hand through his hair. Slowly, with obvious difficulty, he says, "I couldn't keep him in a tank. Wouldn't be fair. Of all people, I should know that." His eyes flick to Ed for a snap moment. Ed doesn't know what his face does, but whatever it is it's enough to relax the line between Izzy's eyebrows. "He'd have to go. But I'd remember him. I'd hope he was...happy. Doing crab things. I'd love him."

From somewhere next to Ed, the inelegant sound of Stede's sniffles breaks the moment they might have been about to have.

"That's such a sweet sentiment, Izzy," Stede says, wiping under an eye. "I was going to say that we could ask the sea-witch to turn us into crabs as well. That way we could all do crab things together."

"There's an idea," Ed says enthusiastically. "We could make a crab house and eat crab food and have crab se--"

"I'm not turning into a crab," Izzy says, and turns back to face the direction they'd come. "Are we done with this? I'm fucking starving."

He marches off, leaving Stede and Ed to walk in his now-determined wake. Obviously trying to escape the sentimentality of his own words. Ed exchanges a knowing, saccharine expression with Stede as they follow.

"Izzy?" Stede calls up to him, paces ahead and legs pumping. Izzy barks out a vague response. "Would you love me if I was a crab?"

Izzy stops and turns completely around. There is a smirk on his face and hidden laughter in his eyes.

"If you were a crab," Izzy says, "I would have a crab fucking boil, Stede Bonnet."

[vagabond-umlaut]

gray cashmere

Solitude makes many a tough decision too easy to make.

However, is one truly ever 'one'? Or are they 'one' from a collection of many such 'one's' — guaranteed to be affected by the actions of one another?

Strictly isolated systems are mere hypotheses, anyways.

[Alternatively: Amanai Riko's life overlaps with that of three young students from Tokyo Jujutsu High for only fifty-five hours, yet the effects they leave on her and the effects she leaves on them– they can be felt even after a period of one-hundred-and-fifty-five months.]

▸ student! gojo satoru x student! fem! reader; 4400 words of me trying my best to forget the horror of the 'Hidden Inventory Arc' by writing THE CANON-DIVERGENT FIC I DESPERATELY NEEDED TO FUNCTION ATP; riko is the little sister yours truly the reader never had; kuroi is the gentle sunshine on a winter afternoon; THE sweet romance between satoru & reader; suguru is the most awesome best friend and/or brother figure ever; FUSHIGURO TOJI IS HIS OWN WARNING; Hidden Inventory Arc Spoilers with Canon-Level Violence; Angst with a Happy Ending.

▸ notes: The reader's CT was to read others' thoughts freely without them knowing, but after a binding vow she undertook when young [disgusted with the way the old geezers governing the jujutsu society misused it for their personal gains], she lost it, gaining the ability to instantaneously kill an entity the moment she opts to read their mind in place. Not even a special-grade can stop her attack. Aniki = older brother in Japanese.

▸ belongs to series we're the summer to our winter rain but you can read this as a stand-alone if you wanna!

▸ the gif, divider and characters used ain't mine. please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

DAY 1; 11:44

Yours is a beautiful, awful life when it's the one chosen for the sake of all.

Everyone everywhere will remain smiling, crying, speaking, yelling, moving – living, if put in a word– yet you'll be nothing more than a name and, if lucky, a fading face filed away in a mind. Yet, yet, yet– everyone everywhere will remain smiling, crying, speaking, yelling, moving— and one young Amanai Riko thinks that's what makes her fate so bearable.

Too bad one of her three bodyguards doesn't think along such lines.

"She's too young to die. Why is she even agreeing to this merger?"

Your quiet voice breaks Riko's scuttling from one room to another, in search of the things she needs for school.

Craning her neck, she peeks into the room, only to find you standing by the windows, holding a cup of tea delicately as you look intently at your companions. Geto's shoulders rise and fall in a short sigh. Gojo gets up from his slouch on the couch to drape an arm round you.

The girl thinks it's the softest she has seen the goggles-wearing boy appear in the time you all have been here.

(Honestly, this is the first time she is seeing Gojo act so careful and you, so disquietened, in the three hours the three of you have been here—

A jarring contrast to the way the boy introduced you as 'the coolest and hottest jujutsu sorcerer ever' who also happens to be his 'better half' while you greeted them with a beam (which did not reach your eyes) and turned away, focus switching to your beeping mobile.)

(Geto looked like an old grandpa then, when he whispered to Kuroi, a wide smile on his face as he looked at you, how difficult it was for the two of you to get together as a couple – and how happy and relieved he and your other friends are now, watching the two of you be so very in love with each other. Kuroi let out only a tiny quiet sigh with a small gentle smile at his words.)

Your boyfriend's voice pulls her away from her mind.

"You heard the brat, didn't you? She is Tengen-sama; Tengen-sama is her. So she isn't really going to die; she's going to live forever and ever and eve–"

"I thought I was the one who couldn't read between lines well in this relationship, 'Toru," you interrupt him, frowning. Riko finds it too hard to stifle the giggle that threatens to follow – albeit, the threat doesn't stay strong for long, vanishing away at your next words. Thrown into the room, a mix of visible anger and despair.

"The kid was obviously spouting all that nonsense, more as a means to convince herself than to convince us," you say; the young student considers bursting into the room, exclaiming she ain't a little kid, yet a voice in her urges her to stay put outside the door. Begrudgingly, she listens to it. You continue, tone the same as before.

"There's some part in Riko-chan which doesn't really want to merge with Master Tengen, but a burden once dumped on one's shoulders has to be carried, and Riko-chan has no option left but to choke that wily voice in her head until it quietens forever."

Gojo's eyes drift over to the door once. A bit startled and a lot scared, Riko shrinks into herself, yet budges not an inch from her spot. Focus returning to your puckered features, the junior high schooler watches him croon softly into your ears, "Babe, how about we discuss–"

"I don't think there'll be a later, Satoru," you say, then exhale air out in a burst of clear frustration, "And I seriously cannot understand how in this world you and Geto senpai can be so relaxed about this? Y'all are answering Yaga's calls as if Riko's an important but lifeless mail, while we three are some FedEx employees and not three sorcerers leading a girl a few years younger than us to her death, grinning and singing."

The cup in your grasp looks dangerously close to shattering; not to mention the way your cursed energy swells and swells until it comes too close to suffocating the hell out of her — it ebbs away faster than it came.

Face morphing into an easy smile, the girl watches you slip out from under your boyfriend's arm and walk over to her. She wishes the grin she shoots back is half as bright as she hopes it is.

"Hey, Riko-chan," you greet, voice shifting into a soothing melody, "Ready to go to school? Geto senpai's already called the driver. He must be waiting downstairs."

"Oh, I see," Riko responds, a bit lost as her gaze rakes over your face, then darts over to the two still in the room. The weird-bangs-sorcerer offers a small smile while he cuts an apple into slices. The other boy's eyes remain trained on the back of your head, upbeat nature nowhere to be seen.

She looks back at you. Kuroi asks her to hurry via a frantic yell of her name. The girl sighs and slowly moves into the direct line of sight of everyone.

"Have any of you seen a thin blue notebook anywhere? I can't find my music no– OH MY GOD, ONEE-CHAN!!! YOUR STUPID AS HECK BOYFRIEND DID NOT JUST MAKE PAPER PLANES OUT OF MY NOTES, DID HE!?!?"

———

DAY 2; 19:55

"Satoru is not really bad, y'know?"

Your comment arrives few hours and many adventures later – though Riko wonders how much of an adventure they were for you or the two upperclassmen of yours, given the way you three were kicking ass for the entirety of the time, both before and after Kuroi was captured.

Lips curving into a teasing smile – one which the woman, taking care of her since the latter's childhood, shares – the teenager returns her attention to you.

You blink back, a tiny smile playing with the corner of your lips before it widens, digging into your cheeks and crinkling your eyes.

"What?" you ask with a giggle, "Is there something on my face? Or is suggesting my boyfriend to be kind of good really that outlandish of a concept?"

"Hmm, do you want the nice answer or the honest answer?" Riko asks back, plopping a spoonful of the ice cream you bought, then breaking into a shiver as her brain freezes from how insanely cold it is. Neither you nor Kuroi bothering to hide your chuckles, you hum. "I'm not sure which I will find honest and which, nice; why don't you shoot both my way, Riko-chan?" you suggest then add, mirth gleaming in your voice, "Of course, when you're okay again, only then."

The girl thinks of retorting to you with a silent glare but opts to think better of it. Couple of minutes pass in almost silence, Kuroi and you chit-chatting about Okinawa in general while the three of you amble down the sidewalk lining the inky-black sea, casting eerie shadows in the sparse lights dotting the streets — when she decides to reply to your suggestion from before.

"I don't really think Gojo-san is a bad person," She says, stopping and offering you a smile over her shoulder. You too stop and accept it with a bright smile of your own.

Riko continues, "I mean, yeah, he's very, very annoying all the time – making fun of me and calling me a kid or brat – but if you chose him to be your boyfriend, I guess he's kind of fine. Maybe. Plus, you don't really seem to have a bad taste," she adds with an appreciative once-over at the sundress you're wearing.

You crack an amused grin. Riko turns to her caretaker. "C'mon, Kuroi. Tell onee-chan. She has a pretty nice taste in outfits, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, you do," the other woman is quick to agree with a kind grin, "I suppose Riko-sama is correct in saying this; although, Riko-sama..." trailing off, Kuroi smiles at the addressed girl the way she used to in her childhood, whenever the latter used to babble the stuff children always do, and gently rebukes.

"Having a good taste in outfits is not the best indicator of someone's taste in men. You must never view a person from an angle as shallow as that."

"Kuroi-san is right, Riko-chan," you pitch in your two cents an instant later, then cast the woman beside you a sly glance, "Though I wonder if that was an indirect criticism of 'Toru... I hope it wasn't – was it?"

"No, of course not," Kuroi denies with a small laugh. Riko watches you crack a freer smile at her words, which slowly softens when you move your gaze back to her. The ice cream in her hand seems four seconds away from melting; still the girl decides to ignore it in favour of giving you her undivided attention.

(Ever since she met you three, you've always struck the young girl as someone a bit... different.

From the way you train your focus on your opponents during a fight; to the way you speak, neither too loud nor too quiet, just the perfect loudness and pitch required to snatch everyone's attention and keep them for yourself; to the way you carry yourself, neither as pompous arrogant akin Gojo nor as discreet smug as Geto, but as a girl who is aware of her worth and won't hesitate to show another their place, if the need so arises.

Riko thinks if she lived a little longer, she might have wanted to make you her role model. Not that it matters now, though.)

Your musing voice break through her thoughts.

"Satoru was the one who suggested this trip," you say, sharing a half-smile with Kuroi, "The best option would have been to take you back to the school as soon as possible, where you and Kuroi-san would be safe and sound. Plus, our mission too would have been complete. An extra feather to our cap, given we delivered the Star Plasma Vessel to Tengen-sama and secured the foundations the entire Japan is based on. Yet he argu–"

You abruptly fall silent, the loving look on your face withering to one of helplessness and profound sadness when the ticking hands of the wrist watch you wear catches your eye; and you shove your emotions beneath a forced chuckle.

"Oh no, it's almost eight," you say, a faux buoyancy to your words, "Do you wanna go back to the hotel and have dinner there, Riko? Or some place outside, maybe? Our schedule's packed tomorrow – our littlest Riko-chan needs some good sleep tonight to not be fussy tomorrow, doesn't she?"

Glancing at Kuroi, only to find her with the same tense cheerfulness, Riko stifles a sigh and parts her lips into a mirthful beam she doesn't feel at all.

"I really wanna try the soki soba and the yashigani. Do you know any good restaurants nearby?"

You nod exaggeratedly, lips thinning into a solemn line though the faint ray of fun can still be made through the grey clouds cast over your irises. "Don't you worry, Riko sama. Your two faithful servants will certainly find a place to dine to your liking. You just keep being the cute little princess that you are."

The girl opens her mouth to snap back at being called a little girl yet again – you aren't very different from your boyfriend, after all – then shuts it, then opens it again, a teasing giggle wanting to bubble out.

"Y'know, onee-chan," she says, skipping over to you and smiling in an innocent fashion, "I answered your second question, but I never gave a reply to the first one – you wanna know it?"

You take a second before shrugging. "Um, yeah, why not?"

Throwing a mischievous glance to Kuroi, who hides her mouth with a palm and looks away, shoulders shaking a little, Riko returns her eyes to your expectant smile. And beckoning you to come near, whispers.

"There isn't anything on your face. But the foundation's on your neck and shoulders is kind of off, I guess. Were you bitten by a bug, onee–"

An obnoxiously cheery ringtone cuts the girl off. Your face burning a deep hue of coyness, she watches you pluck your phone out of your bag, then walk a few steps away, voice dropping to a hushed murmur – which takes a minute before growing shrill then silent. Your cheeks and ears sport the deepest shade of red Riko's ever seen.

Asking them for a little more time, grin so sheepish and flustered, you whirl on your heels and walk a couple of feet away, your hand fiddling with the Okinawa keychain your boyfriend bought you today at noon.

Lips quirking in a fond smile, Riko looks away from your shy giggling figure to the chuckling Kuroi, to the big ocean waves crashing on the sands below.

Yeah, it might've been good to have a chance at a bit longer life.

———

DAY 3; 15:08

This is not good.

Oh heavens no. This is so not good.

Tears springing forth and streaming down her cheeks, Riko moves to take a step towards you. Then, stills when you put up a bloodied hand asking her to stop. Face scrunched into a smile which, the little vessel knows, conveys nothing of the agony tearing at your insides; you cast a glance at the gaping hole in your palm, then drift your gaze back to her.

Something acidic and pungent surges to the girl's mouth — though not at you, never at you – but at herself, the sole reason why you're clutching your profusely bleeding wound, left by the bullet originally meant for her; why Geto stands shocked and numb, with a hundred curses looming round the room, ready to attack at the slightest hint of an order; why Gojo's probably lying near the torii gates, dead and swarmed by cursed maggots – if what she heard less than a minute back, isn't a lie, that is.

Judging from the sharp gasp of air you drew in then — it isn't, Riko thinks.

Your smile stays as pathetically serene as ever; the only traitor now being those rivulets of grief carving their courses on your face. You part your lips in a heart-wrenching plea.

"Run, Riko-chan. Run to a place far from here. Somewhere none can find you. And don't ever come back. Please."

Shaking her head a 'No!' as fiercely as she can, the girl bites back her sobs. A cold hand pulls her by the shoulder towards the entrance; she keeps her feet firmly planted to the ground.

Everything was going so, so well– why then did this abominable man have to appear out of nowhere and upend everything in her life? Only when she realized she did not want to be the sacrifice for the sake of everyone else, and that, she too could afford an ounce of selfishness — why then did this man have to appear and extinguish that singular flame of hope lit in her world? Why, why, why—

A harsh bark of a laughter barges into her thoughts.

Your eyes develop a pinch of panic as they travel from the man you froze in the entrance to them, then back to him. The victim of your cursed technique sneers.

"You're that girl with the psychic powers, aren't ya? Thought you can only use your power to kill a person; since when can you freeze them like a statue, eh— can see, hear and feel everything, but can't move a single muscle, except to speak, huh? Or, no, wait–" A second raucous laugh rings through the halls and corridors; you clench your wounded hand into a fist so tight, she thinks she too can feel the pain weighing on your senses right now.

The assassin jeers, "You must be so, so tired to not be able to kill this poor cursed energy-less bastard, hm? And on top of all that, you also must not have refined the technique enough to shut me up, yeah?" A vein throbs in your temple; the man speaks, more gleeful than ever.

"And given how I'm slowly losing the numbness in my arms and legs... your technique is so fucking weak, girl. And the jujutsu society called you their messiah, eh? Fucking fools, the whole lot. Their six eyes in a pool of his blood outside while their other trump card's soon to meet a similar miserable end at this monkey's hands. How funny, ain't it?"

Giving no semblance of a reply to him, you turn your eyes back to her – no, to Geto who's standing behind her – and urge him, so desperate and desolate, every breath you take a short jerky heave of your chest, "Take Riko somewhere safe, senpai. And don't return till you've gotten help. Now, go. Quick."

Craning her neck upwards, the teenager catches a glimpse of the boy grasping her shoulder firmly — hoping he'll refuse to listen to you and stay right there, fighting the monster right beside you — but finds no fragment of dissent on his face.

Extreme reluctance? Yes.

Profound melancholy? Yes.

Stifling resignation? Yes, yes, yes.

But dissent? No.

It makes an appearance, now and then, but never persists for long.

She makes yet another attempt to get closer to you.

"Onee-chan, no," Riko begs, snarling and thrashing from under Geto's unyielding hold on her arm now, "please don't do this. I wanna live my life to the fullest, but I cannot if I don't have y'all beside me. So, you–"

"Riko-chan, no–"

"–ask me to go away like an escapist coward–"

"Riko-chan, listen–"

"–staying right over here, next to–"

"RIKO!"

The harsh call of her name makes the girl stumble and stutter. It isn't you who called her so; it's Geto, peering down at her with moisture in his eyes. An ugly sob crawls out her throat. He mumbles, "You're way too young to understand all this, but know that, if you're out there in the world– safe, free and happy– the Star Plasma Vessel mission can be marked successful only then. Whatever sacrifices all of us made or are going to make today," a glance at you shows the bittersweet smile you're wearing; Riko's wails worsen, "they won't make any sense if, at the end of the day, you're harmed. So, please listen to us and escape with Kuroi-san, yeah?"

The man to her not-so-distant left flexes his fingers a bit. The three of you look at him before looking at one another. You look a few minutes away from passing out, skin paling and breaths growing labored with every second that elapses.

Eyes screwn shut, Riko lets go of the fight she was harbouring in her body. Geto's voice breaks with unshed moisture. "Try not to die, kid. I already lost a best friend today, don't wanna lose a sister too."

Riko doesn't need to open her eyes to know your reaction; the heart-rending sob paired with the "No promises, aniki," you let out tells her enough – before your cursed energy expands yet again, and a chilled palm pulls her by the hand into a swift run, the hit of her shoes on the floor echoing in the stuffy underground air.

Air which soon switches from the suffocation of ancience to that of blood and death — the teenager takes but a moment to realize who the person is. Biting down harshly on her lower lip, she swallows the raw anguish tearing her sinews apart, and keeps her eyes shut firm.

Willing the darkness reigning behind her eyelids to overtake every part of her body – especially her mind, being hurtled one memory after another, and another – Kuroi making her lunch for school; Kuroi teaching her to tie her braids; Kuroi congratulating for every success of hers and supporting her after every failure, be it big or small; Kuroi being the family she once thought she had lost in a car crash–

The sharp ding of the lift and the crackling warmth of the sun on her tear-stained cheeks are the last two things Riko registers, before the world round her fades away into a noiseless black — finally.

———

DAY 4718; 16:02

"Anableps can see both above and below the water at the same time, y'know?"

The statement and the awed "Woo!" that follows it rouses Riko from the siesta she was teetering on the brink of. She yawns and rubs her eyes. Then yawns again, a bit more subdued this time, considering a family walks past her.

Uni's been very stressful of late, and to top it all off, the woman who's supposed to handle this shift has called in sick – so, as fucking same as before, the manager is gonna call in some newbie to work instead.

The newbie being none other than Riko – very unfortunately – on a tiring Friday afternoon as today.

At least, the job pays well and she gets to spend time explaining fish and their world to excited kids, plus the occasional one or two adults who look a touch different from their usual bored indifference.

But, of course, there's always a group of friends who come bounding in.

Worse than a class of kindergarten children fighting for the single toy of a dinosaur their teacher has brought — Riko avoids such crowds of like the plague. Storming past them, turning down their query, asking a coworker to fill in for her – the young grad student applies all tricks and methods known to her to escape the situation.

To escape the familiar buzz of cheer and enthusiasm.

To escape the familiar weight of nostalgia and gloom.

To escape the—

"Um, miss, where can we find the whale sharks' tank? Heard it's the main attraction here... And, uh, we're also a little lost, actually."

Trains of thought thrown off-track, the young woman squeezes her eyes shut, then opens them again, a customer service smile flitting onto her lips as she turns back. And holds back a very exasperated groan. Why the fuck did Mio had to leave for a snacks break now of the innumerable times she could have gone before? And why does this crowd have to be the very thing she hates dealing with? Ugh... Never mind–

"Just turn to your left, go down the corridor, then to your right. You'll find the whale sharks there."

The pink-haired boy accepts the reply with a nod and a bright thanks, before the black-haired boy places a hand on his shoulder and he falls quiet. The latter looks strangely familiar, Riko thinks... ignoring it, she shoots the boys a quizzical smile. "Is there anything else you would to like to ask or—"

"You're my mom's friend. I've seen your pictures at home," he cuts her off, brows furrowing. His friend looks at him, so perplexed, not much unlike how Riko's feeling. He pays no mind, continuing, "You attended a Catholic school, love music and aquatic life, and have an obsession with coconut crab meat and soba, don't you?"

"Megumi..." A slightly older girl standing behind them with two girls donning identical t-shirts, begins in a lightly chastising tone, but the tour guide feels she's miles away from them. Catholic school, music lessons, aquariums, soki soba, yashigani, Okinawa... it simply cannot be you—

"Tsumiki! Mimiko!" A voice, Riko once was under the impression she'll never be hearing again, except in nightmares, rings through the near-empty hall of the aquarium, soon followed by the appearing of a face she thought she'll never see again, except in the sole photograph left with her on the phone Geto gave her, besides 5000 円 and contacts he asked her to get in touch with, as soon as possible, that evening a good twelve years ago in Osaka.

You reach a stop before the group, a young brown-haired girl trailing you with a worried scowl on her face. Dumbstruck, Riko watches you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.

"I can understand Nana-chan's phone is busy being used in clicking photos but the same excuse cannot be extended to you, can it? No. So, why on earth can't any of you four pick your mobile up when I'm calling you, hm? Or please don't tell me the batteries are dead. Again."

The blonde girl, presumably Nana-chan, smiles smugly while three out of the addressed four kids shoot a sheepish smile your way. Your frown slowly gives way to a fond grin and you huff a chuckle, shaking your head – which only grows in intensity when the girl following you lets out an annoyed hmph! and launches into a tirade how extremely worried the two of you were and how much dumb and careless them five are.

Eyes welling over with emotions percolated over the course of many, many years, Riko watches you grin so freely — only for it to still and fade when the spiky-haired boy says he has met your friend from the photograph, and you look from him to her standing inconspicuously, half-hidden in the shadows.

A painfully slow second passes.

The entire gaggle of kids falls quiet at the disbelieving watery chuckle you let out. Taking two steps forwards, she offers you a mirror image of your expression.

"Told you the aquarium's fun, didn't I?"

A call of your name bounces off the grey walls in a saccharine tone: Riko knows instinctively, can be no one's except one blue-eyed and white-haired bastard's. You cast a glance at the tall man rushing to you, then return your gaze to her, with the same radiant beam you gave on that day twelve years back, when Riko first expressed her real thoughts out in the air.

The young woman wastes no moment before running to you and engulfing you in the tightest hug she can possibly manage, tears rushing down her face. Your gentle voice shushes her, the way an elder sister would do to a younger sister.

Riko's lips stretch in the widest and freest grin she has felt in forever.

Joyful and thankful her onee-chan is finally back in her life, giving the added length it received some much-needed hues — 'cause a longer life is obviously good but it's the best when your life is long and spent with your near and dear ones.

▸ notes: The reader was in the process of developing and perfecting a new CT, hence her CE was so unstable – spiking and ebbing – besides the fact it drained her energy like hell. Toji was a smart man, he figured it out pretty quickly and easily. [And for the ppl who're wondering how the reader was able to stop the attack on Riko: she used a tendril of thoughts emanating from a person's mind to detect their presence, instead of their cursed energy remains.] [She can't read those thoughts, though.]

▸ masterlist

[seoafin]

pairing: fushiguro toji & reader / side pairing stsg x reader an installment to the exposure therapy au warnings/tags: mentions of sex work/escorting, gambling, don't read if weird teacher/student dynamics squick you nothing is meant to be romantic and toji is a shitty teacher word count: ~4.7k

-

“So,” Toji says, eyeing your lone figure in the classroom with a raised eyebrow. “Just you today huh.”

You look up from your book at him, and then your gaze circles the empty room, the three unoccupied desks next to yours make the room feel emptier, bigger. Sorry to disappoint, you think. He’s not the only one. “Just me,” you reply plainly.

Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko aren’t here. The three of them are in Fukuoka. Before they left, Satoru had boasted about a certain famous shrine dedicated to Sugawara no Michizane belonging to his family. Suguru had slammed his closed fist down on his head with a roll of his eyes, dragging Satoru away by the hair, leaving you with a smile and a promise to return promptly. Don’t go anywhere, okay? We’ll be back soon. 

When a sleek black car had pulled up to the base of the school, Shoko had reluctantly disentangled herself from your side, complaining about unnecessary appearances.

That had been four days ago.

You heard of a brewing storm in the area. You hope the three of them are staying warm and out of the rain. You hadn’t even expected Toji to drop in on class today. He seems to call out at the mildest inconveniences. The other day he had cited not wanting to see Satoru’s face as a legitimate reason to skip on his duties as a teacher. He’s the worst teacher you’ve ever had.

You close your book. “What’s on the agenda today?”

“Hell if I know,” he shrugs. “Got any ideas?”

You stare at him.

“Forget I asked,” he scoffs. “Right,” one foot is already out the door, “I’m out.”

He stops, back turned to you. Then he sighs wearily, as if you’ve somehow exhausted him.

You are promptly plucked out of your seat, Toji's fingers curled around the back of your collar. When you look at him inquiringly, he simply says: “Field trip.”

—

Your eyes water as you enter the pachinko parlor. You are greeted by the omnipresent acrid scent of smoke clinging to the yellowing walls and ceiling. You blink away the tears stinging at your eyes, and quickly follow Toji through the large room, passing by multiple seated older men, eyes glued to the bright machines in front of them. All you can hear are the sound of balls clacking and levers being pushed. From what you can gather, nobody has won today. It slightly amazes you how Toji thinks he’ll be the exception.

You follow his dark, foreboding figure to the back of the room, to the very end of the row, where there are only three other men. Only one spares you a glance. There are eyes all over the ceiling, scuttling about. Curses, you note, traces of all the ill will that’s gathered. 

There’s a wooden stool. He barely gestures at it before saying, “Sit.”

Toji gets comfortable in front of a large flashing machine, and proceeds to pull out his wallet.

You’re aware gambling is a vice. It’s not really any of your business what your teacher decides to do in his spare time. It’s not as if Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t being taken care of. If this is what Toji would prefer to do over buying the kids new school supplies then…

All that work into keeping Megumi only to gamble his time and money away.

It would be one thing if it was entertaining but…

He’s losing.

Badly. You never expected it to be like this. How awful. If it were you, your dignity could only take so much.

You think it takes a special kind of resilience to be a gambler, but more importantly it takes luck.

You rise from your seat to take a closer look. Not a single metal ball has reached the prize slot no matter how he tries to align his timing with the press of the lever.

You glance at Toji, face alight with a fierce concentration, jaw tight. You sigh.

“You’re losing.”

“Shaddup.”

You sigh again, turn around and seat yourself back on the stool. You open your book. You told Suguru you’d try to finish it by the time he returned.

Someone is hovering. You can see a man out of the corner of your eye. You look up at him, a skinny balding middle aged man in a worn suit, tie loose around his neck, and he nearly flinches. You can hear the plink plink plink of money being lost in front of you.

“Is something the matter?” you ask politely. You figure if anything he’ll ask you for your ID. Without the jacket of your school uniform, you can usually pass off any suspicions of being a student. You aren’t an adult, but you aren’t a child anymore either. You’re of age.

He hesitantly takes a step closer. “How much?”

There are thin, wire glasses on the bridge of his nose. You can see the perspiration building on his forehead. You tilt your head.

Anxious energy radiates off of him. His gaze is fixated on your chest. “Just for the night,” he says quickly. “One night.”

Understanding quickly dawns on you. “I’m sorry,” you start apologetically. “You seem to be mistaken. I’m not an escort.” The man blinks. You continue. “In fact, if you’re looking for one, you might want to look at the man right there.”

You wonder if Toji is into men. If it even matters. Customers are customers. Money is money, and something tells you he isn’t picky.

That elicits an indelicate snort from the aforementioned man. So he is listening.

The man looks dissuaded for a minute, before pressing forward once more. “I can pay,” he says breathily, inching closer to you. His eyes dart to your slightly spread thighs before going unfocused. 

Now, just how should you handle this?

You could take his hand, momentarily stop him in his tracks. You’d be gone before he gained consciousness once more. But you’re technically not allowed to use your cursed technique on civilians, and you don’t like doing it either, despite Satoru’s protests about the underutilization of your technique.

A shadow looms above you.

“You bothering my girl?”

You involuntarily shudder at the statement, but the man pales, looking up at Toji fearfully as if he descended from the parted heavens. 

“Y-Y-Yours—”

“Mine." Lips peel back, revealing bared teeth in a mockery of a smile. “Fuck off degenerate. Or you’ll be seeing my fist next.”

The man scrambles backwards, almost tripping on his feet. He gives you one last look before you watch him disappear through the rows of metal machines. You look back at Toji, gaze dropping to his empty hand.

“Wow. You didn’t win a single thing.” You think that in itself is a special skill. 

An irritated look crosses his face. Green eyes flash. “Damn things are rigged,” he seethes. “ All of ‘em.”

Just as he finishes that statement, shouts fill the front of the room along with shrill celebratory noises. You look at him. His face grows cloudy. You hop off the stool. “I was wondering how long it’d take you to give up.”

He changes the topic. “You look fine for someone who was just solicited.”

You shrug. “Nothing would’ve happened.”

Toji begins to trudge to the exit. A walk of shame. “He looked like he was gonna haul you off to the nearest love hotel.”

“I’ve never been to a love hotel." You had told Satoru and Suguru of your interest to see the interior of one once. They had both fallen quiet for the rest of the walk home. “But it’s not exactly the kind of place you go to alone.”

He shakes his head. “You’re a full time job, you know that?”

You look at him curiously as you step outside. Your lungs are glad to trade the smoke-laden air for fresh air.

“It’s a shame he didn’t solicit you instead,” you remark as the two of you start on a journey to the nearest convenience store. You’d like a drink. Maybe if you’re in a lenient mood you’ll buy Toji one too. “I’m sure you could’ve shown him a better time than me.”

“Dunno about that.” He gives you a scrutinizing once over. “A virgin like you? Hot commodity. ‘Sides,” he smirks. “I’m expensive.”

An unmarked virgin maybe. But any man would recoil from the scars that mark your body. All the assignments from before Shoko. And if not that, then the disfigurement of your side gifted to you from the man right next to you.

“That explains how you can afford to lose so much money.”

Unexpectedly, he takes you in good humor. “You’re a mean little thing when you want to be,” he says. “The mouth on you.”

You blink. Nobody has ever called you mean. Not to your face anyway. You think about it. Maybe this is what Satoru used to dislike about you, back when you hadn’t cared about how he perceived you. All you knew back then was that you said all the wrong things. Now you eagerly await text messages from Shoko. You like it when Satoru smiles, when he flashes you a grin so bright that you can’t help but smile back. You like the soft crease of Suguru’s gaze when he regards you. You like it so much that you can’t sometimes can’t breathe. You’re a different person now. Sometimes, you need to remind yourself of it.

Inside the convenience store, you select black tea for yourself and a coffee for Toji. You walk outside to him chewing on a pork bun and you hand him the drink. It’s a brand you’ve seen him drink before. He stares at the black label. You don’t expect a thank you.

“Tsumiki is starting middle school soon,” you say, staring out into space. “She could use some new school supplies.” Along that line of thinking, Megumi could use a new randoseru. 

He’s silent. You’d buy her some yourself, but you think it’d be more meaningful coming from the man who is technically her step-father. She’d be delighted even, you think, and Megumi for as aloof as he tries to be, can only be so distant when it comes to his beloved sister. There have been too many mistakes, too many burned bridges, but this could be a step in the right direction. You don’t think he sleeps at home.

The two of you enjoy the quiet. You finish your drink, and then stand. You’re in a familiar area of the city, and there’s someone you’ve been meaning to see.

—

“You’re late,” Marie scolds, hand on her hip. You close your eyes at the scent of plum blossoms wafting from her skin. “Think of me as one of your clients. Be punctual!”

“This one’s fault,” Toji grunts out. His knuckles dig into the side of your head with enough force to tip you over, and your eyes snap open immediately. If you were a lesser person, you’d be on the ground. You frown, your head sore. “Found her hoverin’ over some damn stick in the park.”

It would have made an excellent walking stick. You clutch your shopping bag to your chest. “Satoru and Suguru never complain…”

That’s a lie. Satoru has resorted to either holding your hand or staying attached to you at all times to make sure you don’t wander like some bodyguard. Suguru too. You don’t know why. You’d rather just find them later to save them the trouble of finding you.

“Make your boyfriends wait, not me.”

You make a face. He should’ve just left you. Despite that, you hang your head apologetically. It is your fault. You had become distracted multiple times along the way, and a specific distraction had culminated in the shopping bag in your hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize Fushiguro-sensei made plans to be here by a certain time. It was my fault.”

“Damn right.”

He’s a sore loser, you think. You may have said it out loud because his gaze slides to you, mouth opening with what you think is a nasty reply.

Marie shoots him a sharp look. “Now, now Toji. A man like you knows better than to run his mouth like that.”

“Off the clock,” he replies before stepping forward. A throng of women gather around him, cooing and ah’ing, hands skirting over his arms and chest. A man like him has no need to pay for a woman, so you gather they’d sleep with him willingly for free. And from the looks of it, he has a plethora of choices. You hope they aren’t expecting more. Like money. You think many women have been reduced to tears by the man. 

Marie clicks her tongue, and a collective sigh sounds the air before the crowd disperses to their actual clients, leaving just one lucky woman who pulls him towards the back of the room, towards the more private area.

“They pulled sticks earlier.” Marie looks amused. “It’s not often Toji comes around for anything other than drinks.”

You smile. “He likes your company. You shouldn’t discount that.”

Her eyes are fond as they look at you. Her fingers brush the hair away from your face. “What a man like that is doing around a sweet girl like you is beyond me.” She sighs, shaking her head. “He’ll corrupt you.”

It’s not that bad, you want to say. Not as long as you hold no expectations about the person he is. The only thing you’ll hold him to is being a father. But other than that you’ve found that you seem to feel a certain kinship with miserable people and your teacher is one of the more miserable people you’ve ever met.

That’s when you see them. A group of girls hovering behind Marie. They span from what looks like your age to a little older, and they seem to be waiting.

“Honestly,” Marie turns to them. “What have I said about standing around the front?”

The girl in the very front pouts, glossy bottom lip jutted out. “But Marie, you said they’d be here! Those two hot guys. I want the black haired one, he was charming!”

“Then I’ll take the one white haired one. Those sunglasses…”

“No, I want that one!”

“I’ll take them both!”

“As if they’d be interested. You’re practically made of plastic!”

“What did you say—”

“GIRLS!”

They reluctantly settle. 

“Toji’s students are they?” Another girl asks, voice breathy. 

“Not like that,” Marie says chidingly. “Those two respectable high school boys wouldn’t come to a place like this if they didn’t have to,” Marie glances at you. “And I never said they’d be here. You girls and your selective hearing give me a headache!”

“We’re graduating this year,” you say. You don’t think it matters. Jujutsu High is a year longer than regular civilian high schools. Nobody in your class is underage anymore. “I’ll be sure to pass them your way after. But—”

The girls squeal. Marie winces. You’re surrounded at once, the surrounding clash of perfume making you go lightheaded. Someone’s large endowed chest is pressing against your back, and both your arms. Someone is tightly clutching your hand. Everyone is speaking. Their names, their phone numbers, their availability. Not a single girl has listed her rates. You want to tell them that they should because Satoru and Suguru have money to spend. Special grades make a salary far beyond anything normal jujutsu sorcerers do, and that was coming from someone who considered their own pay more than comfortable.

You suddenly understand every single man in the host club more than you ever had before. You, too, would pay for the experience of a beautiful woman looking at you like the only person in the world.

Your face is hot. You’ve never been surrounded by so many beautiful women in your life. Satoru and Suguru and even Toji regularly experience this? You think that’s unfair. 

“GIRLS!”

“Satoru and Suguru are in Fukuouka right now,” you say apologetically. Shoko too, you think. But that’s something you’d like to keep to yourself, lest you lose her to another prettier girl.

The girls sigh a collective “awwwww.”

You are reluctantly let go of, on unsteady feet. Marie looks downright annoyed. “I should put you all out for the night! Stop bothering the poor girl, and get back to work!” She barks.

The girls slink away, casting you pleading looks. You smile. Something flutters to the ground. You pick it up. It’s a business card with a number written on the back. Someone had stuffed it into the sleeve of your shirt. You discreetly slide it into your shopping bag. You’ll give it to Satoru and Suguru later. Satoru, when he inevitably complains about how you hadn’t bought him a gift. 

And then you feel something more in your shirt.

“Those girls,” Marie scowls as she straightens your shirt and hair with all the vigor of a mother cat grooming her kitten. You almost close your eyes. “The new ones go crazy for a pretty face. They’ll learn soon enough.”

You follow Marie to the bar, unable to help your curiosity as you glance at all the men being entertained on love seats. You recognize some faces from the women that had surrounded Toji, but instead of the excited air that had prompted a frenzy around Toji, everything now is strictly professional.

The life of a jujutsu sorcerer is hard, but in a way you envision anything else. If you ever became a hostess or an escort, you’d fail. People like Toji and the girls can do things you could never do. 

Marie pours you a drink as you take a seat. It smells sweet. “I’m sorry about that,” she sighs. “How have things been?”

“Good,” you reply truthfully. Unexpectedly so. You’re visiting Riko next month and you are carefully readying souvenirs to take to her. No deaths (as of now). Suguru and Satoru are happy. Shoko is preparing for medical school. Things are unusually good. You pause. “I was solicited by a man.”

“Oh dear,” Marie closes her eyes. “Now just where has that man been taking you?”

“Just the pachinko parlor.” And the race tracks, but that’s a story for another time. 

“Not that seedy place!”

“It wasn’t that bad,” you say. For you. “But I don’t think Fushiguro-sensei has a single yen to his name right now.” In other words: you really hope the woman currently with him isn’t expecting anything other than a good time. 

“Oh,” Marie groans. “Born under an unlucky star, that one. He just doesn’t learn.”

“I’ve never seen anyone so unlucky,” you reply gravely, sipping at your plum wine. “I am curious though. I wish Fushiguro-sensei hadn’t scared him off so early. I’ve been wondering about how much he would’ve paid.”

Toji slides into the seat next to you. There’s lipstick on his chin and smudges of it on his neck. “A cheapskate lookin’ guy like that? He would’ve shorted ya. Consider yourself lucky I was there.”

You frown once again. “Nothing would’ve happened.”

He eyes you dubiously. “With you? Who knows.”

You don’t have a reply for that. He’s right.

Marie hums, cleaning a cocktail glass. “That was quick,” she says to Toji. “Done already?”

He waves a blithe hand, not responding. You also look at him.

“Oh dear,” she says in mock concern. The corners of her lips are fighting not to tilt into a smile. “Old age getting to you?”

He narrows his eyes playfully. “Why don’t you find out?”

You eagerly take a long swig of your drink.

Marie straightens, not in the least ruffled, gazing down at him with the countenance of a regal queen. “Things have changed since we first met, Toji. You couldn’t afford five minutes of my time.”

You nod.

Toji grins, and it looks devastatingly charming. “No discount for little ole’ me?”

“You bastard,” a derisive snort. “I’d make you pay more. You’ve never paid for a girl in your life.”

It doesn’t dissuade him. “You know I’d make it worth your time.”

“All this with another woman’s lipstick on your face,” she leans over and lightly pats Toji’s cheek in a vaguely warm, yet condescending manner. She turns to you. “Never let a smooth talker into your bed.”

“You know I do a lot more than talk, Marie.”

Marie rolls her eyes. “Toji, dear. Shut up.” She smiles. “I want to hear about those boys of yours.”

It takes you until Toji snorts to realize she’s talking about Satoru and Suguru.

“They’re fine,” you say. Maybe she’s angling for their wallets. It’s an endeavor you wholeheartedly support.

She imperceptibly leans forward. “Is that all?”

“No girlfriends if that’s what you’re wondering,” you report. You’re sure the two of them will make her money. 

Speaking of Satoru, Suguru and Shoko. You take your phone out of your pocket and stare at it. No text messages. It’s been like this for the last four days. They must be busy. You’re not upset by it. 

Just…

Maybe a little lonely.

“Thank you for inviting me out today,” you tell Toji. Well. More or less he had dragged you out of your seat under the guise of a field trip. But you’re still glad nonetheless. You enjoyed it. The school is too big without your best friends, and Nanami and Haibara were out on a joint assignment this morning. You don’t know what you would’ve done by yourself. You don’t like to be alone with your thoughts. “It was very educational.”

An eyebrow quirks upwards. “Was it now.”

You look at him. “Yes. I’m never betting on pachinko.”

He clicks his tongue sullenly. Marie exhales a wheeze of laughter. 

Then he reaches over to pluck your phone out of your hand. After a second, he tosses it back at you.

Your phone is alight as text messages fill your entire screen. You stare at it, wide eyed as texts start piling in, the latest from Satoru, Shoko, Suguru, or all three.

satoru 

[13:04] respond 

[13:04] respond 

[13:04] respond 

[13:04] respond 

[13:04] respond 

[13:04] respond 

[13:06] what r u doing

[13:06] answer

[13:06] answer

[13:06] answer

[13:07] answer

[13:07] answer

[13:07] answer

[13:07] IT’S BEEN 4 DAYS

[13:09] are you mad at me

[13:10] fine

[13:10] don’t reply.

[13:15] hello

[13:20] hello

[13:20] hello

[13:20] hello

[14:05] WHAT FIELD TRIP ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW

shoko

[8:43] your phone is on silent isn’t it

[8:45] see u soon

[30 picture attachments]

suguru

[12:04] yaga said you were on a field trip with fushiguro-sensei

[12:04] can you tell me where you are?

[12:05] nowhere dangerous right?

[12:06] are you still with him? what kind of field trip are you on?

[12:06] this is inexcusable. you shouldn’t be on an unsanctioned field trip just the two of you.

[12:07] are you back at the school?

[12:07] you don’t need to be there. just leave him.

[12:07] please don’t do anything you would normally do

“Your phone was on silent,” Toji says flatly, if not a bit amused. “How old are you again?”

You’re too eagerly engrossed in reading your text messages that you don’t respond. Marie and Toji share a look.

“I don’t know…” you trail off, ungluing your eyes from your screen. Too many texts. You don’t even know how to begin to respond. So you don’t. 

A memory suddenly hits you. Before the three of them left you had been at a cafe with Satoru. While you had been in the midst of typing out Shoko a heartfelt response Satoru had snatched your phone out of your hands, clicked around with it, and slipped it into his pocket.

After then you had subsequently received no text messages. So he had put your phone on silent. You resolve to learn that setting as soon as you go home. 

suguru

[17:54] we’re coming back. i’ll see you at the school.

You excitedly stand, waving the text in Toji’s face. “They’re coming back!” You exclaim. “I’m going to meet them.” You quickly bow to them. “Don’t bother coming back early,” you tell Toji. Then you rush out.

—

You nearly run into Shoko’s open arms, burying your face into her shoulder. She smells like dewy grass. Back inside Satoru’s room in jujustu tech, the four of you are together. It feels as if they never left. 

“Welcome back,” you say breathlessly. “How was Fukuouka?”

“Wet,” she says, making a face. “How was your field trip?”

“Interesting. I think Fushiguro-sensei is the unluckiest man in the world.”

“Well, I don’t doubt that,” she replies. “I bought you souvenirs.”

“Me too,” you blurt out. Your face warms. “Well not a souvenir, really.” You give her the shopping bag in your hand. “I saw it and thought that…” that it’d look perfect on her, “that maybe you could wear it to the next festival…?”

Before she can unravel your impromptu gift, an airy voice cuts through. 

“So the two of us are chopped liver now, are we Suguru?”

“It seems that way, Satoru.”

“How awful,” Satoru sniffs. “After all the trouble we went through to get here early.”

“It was an ordeal, wasn’t it?” Suguru’s smile turns a hint menacing. Your fingers go sweaty. “I’m more interested in this ‘educational field trip. ’”

“It was educational,” your rebuttal is weak. 

“Is that right,” Suguru hums. “I’m looking forward to hearing all about it.”

You look at Shoko helplessly. She shrugs.

Satoru frowns, rounding on you. “I can’t believe you! Not a single text the entire time we were gone! Just what were you two doing anyway? Confess!”

“You’re the one that put my phone on silent,” you reply. “I didn’t even know. I thought the three of you were too busy to update me.”

Satoru opens his mouth. You can see the moment he realizes you’re right. His mouth closes. 

Suguru rolls his eyes. Shoko shakes her head. The two of them promptly slap the back of his head, earning a yelp from the white-haired boy.

“Besides, I haven’t forgotten about you two,” you say, thinking about the cards. Satoru perks up at the prospect of a gift. He’s surprisingly easy to handle at times. Like a child. It’s not bad, you think. Not at all. You smile, reaching into your pocket and pulling out a stack of cards.

“For you two.”

They momentarily glance at each other before taking the cards.

“Wait,” you pat down the sides of your body. “Ah—” three cards tucked into the waistband of your skirt that you hadn’t noticed before “—here you go.”

They stare down at the cards in their hands in silence.

"...Thank you," Suguru says, ever polite, voice strained.

You beam. “Your welcome. The two of you should go with Fushiguro-sensei next week." The two of them wear matching grimaces. "The girls really want to see you again." You look at Satoru. "Even you Satoru!"

"Hah!? What is that supposed to mean!?"

You're sure the prospect of being surrounded by beautiful women will make them more amenable to the idea. Shoko is laughing.

“Wait right here,” Shoko says quickly, getting up from the floor. A quick squeeze of your arm. “I’m getting your souvenirs.”

You turn back to them. “Was Fukouka fun?”

“...The same as always,” is Satoru’s somewhat peeved response as he throws you a box of mentaiko flavored chips. “Annoying old geezers nearing the grave. We skipped the onsen.”

The fact that Suguru doesn’t even correct Satoru on his words says enough. 

“Oh. You shouldn’t have.” It would’ve been a nice way to end their trip. You plop a chip into your mouth. It’s too salty for Satoru’s tastes, but you enjoy it just fine.

Suguru smiles. His fingers are playing with the edges of your hair, lightly tugging. “Next time, we’ll all go together.”

“That would be fun. I’d like that.” You go quiet for a few seconds. “I missed you two.”

Satoru puffs up. “Tell me more.”

“I was a little lonely without everyone. I think that’s why Fushiguro-sensei took me out on a fieldtrip today.”

In other words: he was being oddly considerate. In his own way.

Satoru deflates, pouting. You don’t notice, lost in your thoughts.

“Satoru, Suguru.” The two of them look at you. “If I were an escort, how much would you pay for a night with me?”

The two of them go silent.

[solar-net]

Poppy Chapter 3 Thoughts

Just finished watching Manly's play through of Chapter 3 and I have many thoughts as a viewer of the game.

First things first! Very polished, not very buggy and has a lot of nice environments. It's interactive and gives and you a better understanding of everything that happened before the deaths of the employees.

The sound design is a major improvement. Chapters 1 and 2 were mediocre in the sound department, nothing stunning or special. This chapter was way better and provided more and went above and behind!!

Also, lots of new mechanics that make the puzzles interesting and keeps things from being to repetitive. It's engaging and the puzzles are easy to understand, they're a little tedious at times, but they're efficient and you get the hang of them quickly! You also don't get overwhelmed.

Now for spoilers, click read more if you want to spoiled :)

I'll talk about the things I don't like first.

The main factor being the major lack of Catnap. The trailers and everything made it seem like he was a bigger deal then he actually is. I get the fact that he's supposed to hide in the shadows, but he barely has a presence until the last half of the game and it's a disappointment.

Even worse, his boss fight dragged on for too long. It's repetitive and not interesting in the slightest. Mommy's boss fight was long, but you not only got more time with her, you also weren't confined to one area. Catnap's boss fight was boring at most and uninteresting at worst.

His death also didn't seem to have that much of an impact. Sure, we know he worships the Prototype and seeing him offer himself to it was pretty sad, knowing everything that happened. But, again, we don't see much of Catnap in the chapter, which really just doesn't make me feel for him.

Ending this on the things I liked / loved!!

I loved Mrs. Delights section, save for the flickering lights, her design is scary and her movements are horrifying. She's a real danger and you can feel it when we get to her. While her death wasn't anything groundbreaking, it made me wince just because she was stuck under there and not cut in half.

The Play Area was fun! The little critters scuttling around and shooting them with the flare gun was fun to watch. I felt bad for DogDay, he was cut in half and his body was used against his will to hunt the player. It was gross and horrifying to watch. The chase was amxiety inducing and you can feel the urgency as you run away.

Poppy had a more prominent role in this chapter, and I'm glad we saw her! Also, Kissy is nice, I understand why they didn't want these two to follow the player aroun. Would have caused some complications with some areas.

Also, seeing Kissy being passive towards us, not only because Poppy is there is calm her down. But also because she's afraid and constantly on edge, and she wants to get out.

Ollie... Is suspicious. I don't trust him but jury's still out there on what his deal is next chapter.

Story-wise, this chapter really focused in on The Hour of Joy. It was nice to get a visual on the massacre, knowing that no one was spared from the wrath of the mascots.

I like that we got some more information on the workers. Knowing that someone of them probably didn't even know about the experimentation going on and thought they were doing good. But, also knowing that so many people were experimenting on the children...

It's chilling, because you know some people didn't deserve this and yet they're dead now.

Also, confirmation on the player having worked there, but left. This makes me think that the Prototype was the one who sent the letter, wanting every employee to suffer.

As for the ending, I suspect that Kissy got attacked by either Boxy or the Prototype. Meaning that she's either dead, or going to die next chapter.

This also means Poppy is likely to stay by the players side for a good portion of the game, I suspect until we meet Ollie, where she'll stay with him.

Overall I think Chapter 3 is a solid 7/10.

I wish we got more Catnap since he was the main antagonist, but I think the rest was handled well and I'm very impressed by the team. They did a lot of work and I applaud everyone who worked on this chapter!!

[jonjaydami]

One thing I will always and forever enjoy about the jondami ship by itself is the fact they are very angel x goblin coded.

Here me out

Jonathan is an angel and for the sake of everything we are gonna say biblically accurate. Cause he's sunshine wrapped up in puppy looks and baggy clothes and he looks for the good in people but with one look he could turn you to salt. Like literally could deliver divine punishment if need be. Which I think is interesting cause you got to learn to be gentle but also when to stand up and be rough. So like an accurate angel of sorts.

Then we have Damian and I know everyone is obsessed with him being a demon and stuff like that but like...after seeing the comics and reading some of the things he's said or done he's really not. He's just an autistic goblin.

Like he has no idea what human interactions are hardly and how to be normal about them so he just kinda stands there but the more you get to know him and the more comfortable he gets he just gets...weirder.

Like I can imagine him talking about animals for hours and talking about different characters from video games and backstories and drawing them out and Jonathan just stares at him like like a frog until he's done because he doesn't want him to stop. Plus Damian can have non verble moments so the moments he does speak are very special to him. Then the flexible points were he scuttles around on all fours to look for a pencil because he knows it freaks Jon out or the fact when they go outside he gets distracted by different plants he could eat (becuase hes vegan and knows a lot about plants) and even keeps special rocks in a secret drawer that he shows grayson and Alfred. Not to mention the collecting of special things like animals and swords.

So like a divine angel x a goblin really and I think it's a sweet deal honestly.

[sparkles-and-trash]

dabihawks, post war drabble ~

Keigo loves Thursdays.

Really, what's not to love? Like, it's the day before Friday, for one!

It's also a home office day for Keigo, so he can sleep in, which is a new thing he does now!

The fact that Thursday also just happens to be the day he meets up with Touya in the afternoons is merely a coincidence, not at all any reason that Thursdays are now so special to him.

Totally random.

However, here he is now, scuttling about his apartment that he has barley fully moved into, moving around his little trinkets and trying to make the place look more lived in than it truly is.

It's Touya's first time seeing this place since he joined him during the viewing when it was for sale, and Keigo might care just a tiny bit that it looks nice.

And if, when Keigo opens the door and sees Touya standing there looking all healthy (ish, he's getting there) and radiant and with the stupid half smirk, half smile he always sports when he firsts sees Keigo, if then his heart skips a beat, like it does every damn time, well then that is his business and his business alone.

Keigo can hardly keeps his wings from flapping when Touya takes in the apartment with awe, commenting at how Keigo finally discovered his own taste, and he can't help but following the white haired man around with little hops of excitement as they go.

Touya has a way of undoing him like this.

But after the initial excitement of the apartment dies down and they sit down on Keigo's new (used) couch with their tea, Keigo can tell there's something Touya's trying to say.

...but he can't seem to get to it, so Keigo decides to give him a nudge.

"So, how was the Program today?" the hero asks casually, eyeing the in reform ex-villain casually.

Touya huffs.

"It's all the same at this point," he says with a roll of his beautiful, turquoise eyes.

Keigo makes a questioning sound, and Touya continues.

"Actually," Touya adds, and Keigo perks up hoping to finally catch on to what's been bothering his guest.

Touya takes a moment to look Keigo up and down for a second, before he continues.

"I met this weird guy today, apparently he used to work for... them."

It's Keigo's turn to snort.

"You can say the Commission Touya, it's not a curse word," the hero says with a smirk.

"Not that a curse word or ten ever stopped you," he adds and Touya gives a small smile.

"Yeah, well, they only let very few people from there keep working with the new programs, but this guy clearly got to stay," Touya elaborate.

Keigo waits for Touya to finally get to the point, but he's getting a little impatient, which his frazzled wings are starting to show off.

"He asked about you," Touya finally admits, and Keigo's chest does a weird, contracting thing.

"Who..."

Keigo's voice trails off before he can finish his question, but he doesn't have to.

"He said he used to... I guess he took care of you? When you were little?" Touya asks carefully.

Keigo feels himself nod, but he doesn't find his voice.

It has to be Mera.

Mera, with his messy hair and deep set eye-bags, drowsy voice and oddly comforting presence.

Mera who never lost his patience with young Keigo who had no clue about the most normal things, who never ridiculed him, who bandages him up after rough trainings, and who tucked him back into bed after nightmares.

Keigo hadn't seen him since he turned eighteen and was pushed from the nest so roughly he nearly crashed into the pavement.

Keigo turned his attention back to Touya, and with a small voice he manages to ask:

"What did he ask?"

Touya's face was uncharacteristically soft when he took Keigo in for a moment before he spoke again.

"He heard that we're... friends, I guess, and wanted to ask me how you're doing."

Keigo wasn't sure if he imagined it, but he thought he saw a tiny blush on Touya's face when he fumbled to describe their relationship.

He sorta really hoped he did, at least.

"What did you tell him?" Keigo asked, and Touya hummed.

"That you're busy making your first very own nest, that you're still a squawking, strange little bird that's in love with his own reflection and- OUCH!" Touya's tired halted as Keigo (not so) gently slapped Touya's shoulder with his wing.

"You're such an idiot!" Keigo said as he rolled his eyes, but he couldn't hide his smile either.

When Touya was done pouting Keigo raised his eyebrows silently asking for the real answer.

"I told him you're doing better," Touya said simply, and Keigo nodded.

"That's true, I guess," he agreed.

Touya hums and moves to awkwardly pick at a loose thread at his sleeve, which is a sure sign there's more to the story.

"Touya..?" Keigo asked, and Touya nods.

"Yeah, he... he asked if I could tell you he'd love to meet you again."

Keigo's surprised to find his eyes growing a little wet.

"He asked if..?" he asks hoarsely, and Touya's nice enough for once to not point out how hard the question hit the hero.

"Yeah, and I said I'd ask, so, I guess this is that."

Keigo nods, a thousand thoughts flying trough his head at top speed.

Neither of them said anything for a while, and Keigo didn't manage to stop his thought until Touya lightly bumped into his shoulder.

"You can say no, you know?" he says casually.

"Would you come with me?" Keigo asks before Touya even managed to shut his mouth after speaking.

And now it simply hangs open in surprise.

"You want me...?" Touya starts, and Keigo nods.

"To come with me to see him." Keigo finishes.

Touya looks at him for what feels like forever, before he smiles softly, so soft Keigo's heart nearly explodes.

Keigo's eyes registers that Touya's mouth moves, but he doesn't need to hear to understand what the answer is.

Keigo meant to hug him, he swears, but then somewhere along the way his brain decided to go rouge and then...

Then he's kissing Touya.

And Touya is kissing him back.

They are kissing.

And Keigo is quite sure everything will be okay, after all.

[splaede]

AFTER DARK. Armin Arlert (CH. 3)

☰ pairings: Armin x Reader, Slight Eren x Reader

┌─ ✮⭒｡ story summary: Armin was tired of being seen as an innocent, goody-two-shoes, little flower boy. Instead, he wanted to be seen in a more romantic and…sexual light. You just couldn’t turn down a sweet boy like him, so you agreed to hone his charms and teach him special…skills.

And he turned out to be much more powerful (and hotter) than you'd ever expected.

└─ ✩⭒｡ story #tags: fluff, angst, smut, friends to lovers, friends w benefits, drama, jealousy, hurt/comfort, manipulative armin, virgin armin, loss of virginity, childhood friends, lots of tension, nerd armin, and then he glows up, love triangles, unrequited love, gaslighting, lots of buildup

☰ CHAPTER THREE. armin's transformation

┌─ ✮⭒｡ chapter summary: Armin takes you out.

└─ ✩⭒｡ chapter warnings: very subtle gaslighting

☰ table of contents | previous chapter | next chapter

You were mid-home-from-work routine when you received a text from Armin. As you unloaded your belongings from your bag, you picked up your phone from the table.

Lately, it seemed as if Armin had been talking to you quite a lot—more than he already did, no less.

Armin: Are you free later?

Ah, typical question. Since it was summer, the time spent with your friends was no longer limited to the weekends, minus the time spent outside of class hours and whenever your schedules didn't conflict. Even with your job, you were much more available compared to the academic year.

Despite having seen Armin almost every day for the last decade of your life, you never hesitated when it came to seeing more of your friends.

You: im free

just got home from work

Armin: Okay, sounds great

Do you want to hang out?

I want to take you somewhere

You: of course i do

where?

Armin: It’s a surprise

It’s really important and I need your help

I’d like for you to come along

You: armin this is really suspicious

but sure

surprise me

Armin: I swear it's nothing suspicious

You: is eren or mikasa coming?

Armin: No

Just you and me

I’ll pick you up from your house

Maybe sometime in the next hour?

You: okay sounds great

and whats the dress code?

Armin: Dress code is very casual

Please don't worry too much about it

You: i trust you armin...

see you

ill start getting ready

Armin: Tell me when you're ready!

See you!

Just the two of you? Just what was he up to? Not that you guys hadn't hung out alone before, but it was almost always the four of you as a group. With recent light of his insecurities and crush on Annie, you began to think it had something to do with that.

Then where could he possibly take you? Where would you even fit to benefit him in this situation?

You remembered the conversation from last night. He probably just wanted to finish it. After all, you were the one that offered to continue. But it felt like a hefty job, and you were unsure if you were suited for the task.

It wasn't as if you were obligated to help him. Still, you just couldn't help but want to—you felt like you needed to. It was hard to come by people like Armin, who was nothing but kind and considerate towards you. Now that your most dedicated pillar of support had finally come to you for help, it was time to repay the favor. You were afraid to fail him when he had already done so much for you.

Still, part of you was excited. You would do anything in your power to win over his crush.

You'd brush it off for now, though, since you needed to get ready. 

Armin's car had been parked within a short walking distance. From your door to his, there was only the scuttle of your shoes on the cracked pavement and the distant sound of whirring cars.

"Hey." He flashed you a welcoming, warm smile.

You scooted into the passenger seat, mirroring his smile. "Hey, Armin."

As you shut the door, you couldn't help but breathe in the familiarity of his car. It was the usual: light air conditioning, quiet music, and that friendly fragrance of his car seats. A mix of something woody and rosy—his cologne—and the minty-ness of the cup container filled with that gum he seemed to always chew.

Armin was never unkempt, always clean, and smelled of his body wash, a warm vanilla scent—a scent that reminded you of home.

You mentally backtracked. You were glad he wasn't a mind reader, or else he'd find out you had been shamelessly smelling him and his car.

"Is that Eren's sweater?"

His voice broke you out of your thoughts, and he shot you a long glance as you buckled your seatbelt.

You looked down.

Oh.

You nearly forgot. The centerpiece of your outfit was none other than one of Eren's sweaters that he had given you yesterday. How could you have forgotten? The sweater hanging off your body was a blatant reminder of your sort-of feelings for him, which you couldn’t help but convince yourself were platonic rather than romantic.

Despite the hot weather, you threw it on, determined to wear it even if you suffered from heatstroke.

"Maybe it is,” you replied with a shrug, tone teasing. 

Armin only responded with an airy chuckle. The car was moving now, a subtle reminder that he had brought you here for a reason. Before you could even ask, a notification on your phone chimed, ringing loud throughout the quiet interior.

Texts from your group chat.

Eren: mikasa and i are getting something to drink right now

you guys wanna join?

you can come meet us there

i'll send the address

we're also getting dinner later so come along

i'm paying

You blinked, rereading the text.

Mikasa and I are getting something to drink right now.

Mikasa and I.

Right now.

Oh.

Had they been making plans in private, only deciding to ask the group chat as a last-minute decision? The two seemed to already be together, after all. You knew that not everything had to be a four-person activity, but knowing that the two were alone together felt strange. You couldn't shake off your uneasiness.

No, no, you were thinking too hard about it. In fact, you were alone with Armin right now. Eren and Mikasa had their own lives and their own choices, and it was all just in your head. This was normal—you had done the same before.

Were you jealous?

You watched the front window view slow from moving buildings to lone traffic lights as yellow flickered into red. You then looked at Armin, who was swooping back his long hair and adjusting his glasses.

"Eren just texted. He and Mikasa are getting something to drink right now and dinner later. He wants to know if we can join,” you finally said.

Armin's eyebrows furrowed. "Oh, drinks...? Eren and Mikasa are...?" He paused, trailing off.

…Together?

Armin spared you a pitying glance, and despite your effort to mask it, he read the disappointment from your expression.

"Don't worry, Y/N, it's the usual. We always go get milkshakes together. All four of us. Maybe Eren was already texting her, or maybe he was driving near her place and decided to drop by. He's done this before with all of us." Armin extended his hand over the console to yours, where he placed his fingers on your wrist and rubbed circles on your hand with his thumb. "Don't think too much into it, okay? It could just be all in your head." 

You nodded.

"We might not be able to get drinks right now, but we can catch them at dinner if that's okay with you." He smiled reassuringly.

You thought it was ironic. The thought of Eren and Mikasa off on their own and leaving you and Armin out worried you, but here you were, alone with Armin and heading off to who knows where. You could only laugh at yourself.

Speaking of which...

"Armin, you haven't told me where we're going."

A cherry, tantalizing smile inched up his face.

"Sorry, you're right. I haven't."

Armin tilted his head towards you, turning ever so slightly until you could see his pretty blue-eyed smile.

"We're going to a barber shop."

You waited for him to finish, raising a brow.

"I'm going to get a haircut."

Your eyes widened.

"You're—what?"

Instantly, your eyes darted to his hair—long and clean and fair on his shoulders. Never once was it tangled or dirty, only silky and faultless as it always seemed. You suddenly found yourself threading your fingers through his locks.

"Wait, are you serious?"

All of this suspense, only to find out you two were going to a barbershop. Even as you pondered the reasoning behind the dramatic wait, you couldn't help but laugh at the silliness of it.

"Yeah! I am. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I just wanted to tell you in person rather than through text." Armin replied, bashfully craning his neck away from your hand that was still in his hair. "Hey, that tickles."

You retracted your hand, laughing, but your thoughts were still swarming with the fact that Armin Arlert wanted his hair cut. Armin Arlert, whose blonde tresses had always framed his face and neck.

"I can't believe it. What type of haircut are you getting?"

One of his hands left the wheel and clumsily felt for his plugged-in phone on the console, handing it to you. You took it without a thought.

"I saved some pictures on my phone if you want to look. You know my password, right?"

You hummed in response, pressed in the digits of his phone password, and swiped around until you found his camera roll. His recent photos consisted of various sunset shots (or sunrise, since you knew Armin was an early bird) that were taken from his bedroom window and the aforementioned hairstyle pictures. A good handful of them, too, all in different angles and lighting.

Wow, Armin sure was thorough for one simple haircut.

"I want an undercut, but I want to keep my hair up to my ears. Kinda like—"

"Kinda like Levi?" You smirked. You eyed him shrewdly, and if you weren't so caught up in your joke, you would've seen him mirthfully roll his eyes with a childish smile.

Armin paused to consider his words, and after chuckling, he spoke. "I've been thinking about getting a haircut for a while now, but I didn't decide until last night. I searched around for some references this morning, and you were talking about him yesterday. You said...you said he was hot."

An easy, brief smile made its way to your lips. "His hair is only one of the many things that make him hot."

You found it cute that Armin had remembered your banter about Professor Ackerman last night.

Speaking of last night, you wondered if he was going to mention your conversation—hopefully regarding how he wanted you to help him. Right now would be a fitting time, wouldn't it? You and Armin, alone in his car. He poured his feelings out once here, so maybe he'd do it twice.

"If you think his hair looks good, then I hope it’ll suit me, too. I just...want a change for once. I'm sure a lot of people would agree."

You almost frowned at that. Growing up, Armin rarely came out of his soft shell, known as the small-framed and timid boy who was overshadowed by his best friend's tenacity when his brains were the only asset at his disposal. Although he seemingly had long grown out of that shell and pushed past that shadow, you knew better.

"Are you doing this for Annie? Armin, I know I've said this before, but don't ever feel like you need to change for somebody."

Him changing himself to fit someone else felt wrong.

"I know, but this is for me. It's only a haircut, nothing big."

Despite the guise of a smile he put on, despite the way he'd brushed it off, deep down, he was still the insecure boy you grew up with. But if he truly was as honest as he sounded and wanted this for himself, then you wanted it, too.

"If you say so. Then I guess you're right. Either way, I think you're going to look great. Annie is definitely going to notice how amazing you look."

When you turned to him, you didn't realize he was already staring at you. He hurriedly shook his head and shied away from your stare with a soft chuckle. His lips parted to say something, but you didn't give him the chance before you butted in.

"I still can't believe it. No more long hair. It was practically a part of you." You eyed him, or rather, his hair. "This is a big deal."

He let his fingers run through his locks, twisting and brushing the strands away. "Yeah. Everyone will be so surprised."

It seemed as if he wanted to say more, but you butted in again. "And thanks for always driving me, by the way. You're always picking me up, even if I have a car."

His one hand came to frantically wave you off while the other fumbled with turning the wheel. "No, it's okay. I'm always the one asking you to pick you up, anyway. I like driving you." He smiled.

Before you could thank him, it was his turn to cut you off.

"We're here."

All of your previous doubts about Eren and Mikasa and the initial shock of Armin's announcement flew out the window and into the sunny skies.

The anticipation was unbearable. The two of you were now parked in front of the barbershop, and Armin was about to get his haircut.

You were going to be the first to witness it.

All you registered when you walked in was the sound of the bell’s chime, and you then found yourself sitting knee-to-knee with Armin as you waited for his appointment, looking down at his phone while he swiped back and forth on his screen.

Armin stilled and tilted his phone towards you. "Do you think I should go with this photo?"

"Yeah, it looks good. Or better yet, you could show them a pic of Professor Ackerman."

His expression became a mix of what seemed like embarrassment and bewilderment before he stammered, "What?! No—no way, I'm going to look like a fool. Professor Ackerman is practically known by everyo—"

You gasped and instantly slapped your hand against his shoulder, or rather, what you thought was his shoulder, but instead, you smacked him square in the face. He jolted back in shock and didn't have time to blink before you redirected his head. "Look! Your barber is ready for you."

Armin stood up, glancing back and shooting you an incredulous look. You only sheepishly mouthed sorry to him in return.

You waited until he sat down before you took your eyes off him. Armin Arlert was about to cut his hair to the shortest length it's ever been.

Now, all there was to do was to wait some more.

In the meantime, you needed to text Eren back, which you had forgotten to do earlier. You saw that Armin had already replied, likely sometime after you walked in and before you two sat down.

Armin: Sorry, I was driving

I’m with y/n right now

We can't make it for drinks, but dinner sounds nice!

You: eren whats the address?

we’ll be there for sure

Hopefully, you would. Free dinner, right?

Minutes later, Eren responded.

Eren: [Current Location]

It looked like they were there already.

You quickly tapped on the link to his location and a restaurant named "Trost's Kitchen" came into view. You had only ever eaten there twice in your life: one time as a child with your family and the second time as a high school student to tease Jean at his part-time waiter job.

If Armin's session went by fast, then you'd be able to drive there with just enough spare time to eat before Eren and Mikasa finish their meals. You amused yourself with how they would react to Armin's hair. Shocked? Confused? Hell, you hadn’t even seen it yourself yet.

For the next few minutes, all you did on your phone was text and scroll.

No, scratch that, you had fallen asleep.

Someone tapped you.

You didn't realize how much time had already passed. Definitely more than those measly few minutes that you spent texting and mindlessly scrolling.

After groggily blinking, your eyes trailed up to find the culprit.

Before you stood a new man.

What was once silky, smooth hair down his neck was now a sleek undercut and cropped short to his ears—just how he wanted, and you could now see his jawline and the innocent skin of his neck. He still kept his bangs, though, which were blonde and neat on his forehead.

You must've been staring too long because Armin nervously looked to the side.

His hand suddenly went up to his face, clasping around your wrist. You didn't even realize that it was there. It had just subconsciously occurred to you that you should reach up and softly intertwine your fingers with his golden locks.

You never noticed how round his cheekbones were, how softened his cheeks looked, or how much of a sharp jawline he had.

Hair really could change a person, huh.

And to your surprise, you had overlooked something even bigger than his new hair. As you followed the undercut to the curve of his ears, you narrowed your eyes at the empty space. He wasn't wearing his glasses. Nothing sat on the ridges of his ears. No thick, black-rimmed lenses around his eyes—nothing but his wispy, blonde lashes that fluttered with each blink. He must've taken them off during the haircut.

Armin seemed to have worked up a ripe, dusky blush with the way you were gently caressing him. His ears flushed a sweet shade of pink, too, just like his cheeks.

"God, you look so good." Your hand withdrew from his head. "You're really attractive, Armin."

You took one more thorough look at his face.

He looked mature.

He looked...hot.

Armin couldn’t seem to decide between meeting your eyes or looking away as you gazed at him. His face reddened when he lopsidedly smiled and squeaked out, "Thank you."

Your hand interlaced with his and you beamed brightly. "Let's go. Have you paid?"

He nodded with a smile.

Then you two were out the door, and when you looked back, his glasses were already back on.

"So...why did I have to come again?"

His eyes flitted to his hand, enclosed by yours. "Um, moral support, I guess...? I don't know. I just felt like you should be the first to see it. I wanted you to be here because it made sense with our... agreement ."

The sky had become a myriad of pretty oranges and yellows, but the blues barely peeked out from behind gray clouds. It made the sunset a little too murky, too pitiless, and too sullen for a summer evening.

"About our agreement..." By now, you two were fastened into your seats and out of the parking lot. "How did you want me to help you?"

He spared you a glance. "Truthfully, I'm not sure. I know you have experience, so however your past lovers got you to like them, apply that to me and Annie."

"So, are you and Annie close?"

"No, we're not that close."

"Do you at least talk to her like you talk to me?"

Lines between his brows formed as he drew them together, his vivid blue eyes flickering aside in confusion. "What do you mean...?"

You shook your head and dismissed him with a wave. "Nevermind."

Surprisingly, Armin didn't press on. You didn't, either. Instead, you turned to your phone.

You: on our way

It wasn't long until you reached Trost's Kitchen. It only took a couple of minutes that had passed by way too fast because you were busy jamming out to songs after he gave you the aux.

The two of you stepped out. It was warmer than you expected, especially after the comfort of the car's air conditioning, and the sunset had long faded away into the night.

You: we're here

Neither you nor Armin exchanged any words on your stroll into the restaurant and merely enjoyed the comfortable silence that you two always seemed to slip into. You were met with the shade of the portico and the chime of bells as Armin opened the door for you.

The bustle of conversation and clank of silverware greeted you at once. You briefly raked your eyes over the rows and rows of tables.

"Okay, wow, it's really busy here," you muttered.

You wanted to send one last text before you deemed yourself too clingy. By now, Eren would've already replied like he usually did on outings like these. Even if he did frequently ignore your messages, you knew that he wouldn't put his phone down until everyone had arrived.

You: please tell me you got a table for four

As soon as you sent that text, Armin nudged your shoulder.

"Y/N? Look..."

In a far corner of the dining space, you saw a woman with short, black hair that you knew all too well and a man with messily tied up brown hair that you knew even better.

Mikasa and Eren. At a two-seater table.

What was only a downward tug on your lips deepened into a frown when you watched them get touchy and enjoy themselves. Had they always been this touchy?

"Kinda looks like they're on a date," you noted.

Armin’s eyes didn’t stray from them when he asked, "You okay, Y/N?"

"Yeah. Let's just get a table."

To your luck, there weren't any available tables near them. At this rate, it'd be a miracle that you'd be seated anytime soon. With the line of people in the reception area and the rows of occupied tables, you almost considered eating somewhere else.

"You might just be overthinking it. It's okay, Y/N, I promise. It just...looks like what you think it looks like."

You gave Eren and Mikasa's general direction one more gander before you allowed Armin your full attention. "Nah, I don't think you're seeing what I'm seeing."

His lips pursed into a thin line. "No, I see. I'm sorry. Do you want to go to a different place, then? I'll pay."

You thought about the texts you had just sent. Wouldn't it be weird to just disappear? You were disappointed, but you didn't feel like interrupting the two at the table. Not that you had much of a choice, anyway—not with packed guests and the long wait. 

"I don't know. We came all this way and I told Eren we'd come." you sighed. "But it's better if we find another place. We can tell the others later."

Before you, Armin extends his hand, and all it's doing is insinuating you should leave. "Okay. I'll make it up to you.  Let's go, then."

He was all honeyed words and lopsided smiles, so you didn't hesitate, not even a bit, to take his hand. As you're leaving and talking, you let him draw you closer to the sound of his calming voice. 

Under the ghostly evening lights of the restaurant front, you clutched onto the sleeve of Eren's sweater with your free hand as Armin pulled you away with the other.

☰ table of contents | previous chapter | next chapter

☰ taglist: ✩⭒｡ @rinsie @tengensgirlfriend @ela-dahe @his-brats-fantasies @genderfluid-anime-goth

[jewreallythinkthat]

I really think you’re misinterpreting things. No one is saying you can’t experience joy while bad things like with what’s happening in Gaza is going on. You can still have fun and do your normal everyday activities, but it’s important to be informed and keep up to date with what’s going on. Yes, many people have known for months what’s going on, but there are still many people out there who have not kept up with what continues to go on (such as the Rafah invasion). It’s very important that we keep up with the information coming from Gaza, we don’t have to stop our everyday activities, but we NEED to be informed on what’s happening RIGHT NOW.

Hi Nonnie,

I completely disagree with you (as I'll outline below) but I appreciate the civility of the this ask.

Question: why do people NEED to be informed on what's happening RIGHT NOW? (More on this later).

I have seen multiple people post, in fandom spaces, that they don't trust anyone who isn't posting about Gaza - and these include people highly active in fandoms who I have followed for a long time. This is spam. This is designed to disrupt people's enjoyment of something to force them to think about what is going on in the middle east.

People need a break. I appreciate for those in Gaza, doe those diving to bomb shelters in Israel, for the hostages, there is no let up. Me being able to distance myself to catch my breath is a privilege they do not have, however it is not the right of a single person on this website, or frankly in the world, to force me or anyone else who wants to enjoy something to engage with a different topic - especially one which is as horrific as what's going on.

People are allowed to enjoy themselves and have fun without being forced to feel guilty that others are not as fortunate. Compassion burnout is a huge issue and forcing people who might actually be able to do some good to be exposed against their will to awful videos and photos benefits literally no one, and shaming them for not engaging is just as bad.

Have you seen that the IDF have managed to evacuated almost 1 million people from Rafah? I don't like that they're going in there. It hurts to know how much more death and destruction will come of this but the evacuation is a stunningly remarkable feat.

What do you want Israel to do? Do you believe taking hostages is a reasonable way to get what you want? That kidnapping teenage girls and parading them through the streets at trophies will help anything? I believe they are going back to the truce talks despite Egypt scuttling them last time.

Genuine question. Why do you, and other need to be informed? Have you ever thought that people must be aware of atrocities all over the globe before the current war in the middle east? Are you aware that on the DRC and Rwandan boarder, there are multiple slaughters, slave taking and continued genocide between the Hutu and Tutsi populations? Do you think the world should be aware of this? It's been going in far longer than the current war but the world is silent because it's not the cool and sexy war to be an activist about. How about what's happening in China? The oppression of women in Iran for allowing a single strand of hair on display? The fucking catastrophe in Sudan?

This war isn't special, it's not even close to the worst thing happening in the world (objectively) and I hate that I have to say things like this because all war is awful, all suffering is horrendous. There are, numbers wise, timeline wise, politically, far worse and more terrifying and more globally impactful things happening at the moment so why is there an obsessions with the Israel Hamas war above all else?

[oops-its-a-fanwork]

Part one of "Some interesting devil fruit abilities for reader to have in the pirate au" (from someone who's never seen one piece so bear with me)

I'm not a native English speaker so these may have some mistakes in them, sorry!

Also, this particular pirate au was created by @mega-punani! Thank you for creating characters I can rotate in my head like popcorn in a microwave xx

I present to you: Pocket docter!!

Devil fruit: Tiny fruit

Reader can get tiny at will!

Thats it.

:)

...Well, okay, they have some outfits that shrink with them, and possibly some jewelry and stuff they keep on them at all times, like a little healing kit! Outfits that don't fit or they don't consider theirs wont shrink or grow with them. Embarrassing!

Probably a little salty that they gave up their ability to swim in the ocean for this... regardless of having had a choice in the matter. Its not a flashy cool power but it sure can be useful!

They can make really specialized tiny tools, get very specific parts of plants and other remedies for illnesses, and they can treat delicate wounds with extreme precision if needed! The tiniest needle and thread known to man is at their disposal.

This power could have reader in fight scenes but in someones pocket, passed around to heal during battle (a little risky but that's fun!) or captured by an enemy and then suddenly be gone (if there's no sea prism stones used ofc).

Not to mention some interesting interactions with the boys!

Sans put his hat on your head while you were tiny and laughed his head off-- its a pretty goofy sight and you're struggling to keep it near you against the wind. You still insist it looked better on you than it does on him and he kind of agrees.

You end up sewing teeny tiny little things into his hat whenever you end up trapped under there. Little stars and shapes, puns, messages... You've assured him you can easily remove them but he loves it. At some point he offers it as a makeshift bed for you if you ever need it, having added a tiny pillow and letting you use the scarf as a blanket. The sight of you asleep in his hat on his nightstand endears him to no end.

Dang hes already tall but Papyrus really dwarfs you huh? He will encourage you to not feel bad or less than others for being absolutely tiny!! --even if your normal form is about average or even tall. Everyone is small compared to him and he's truly nice about it so you forgive him for it.

I feel like he might accidentally forget you in the crows nest and then frantically get the crew looking for you while you're just chilling up there. He didn't forget to put your safety first up there so you've got a lovely view to enjoy!

(Hes no longer the shortest let's GOOOOO-)

Alright so Blue is the most dangerous man to be around out of all of them. Not out of malice of course! Hes just very strong and very energetic, and where Papyrus might punctuate his extravagant poses with acrobatics, Blue does so with his unbridled strength! Which meaaaans he might grip you just a little tight when picking you up, or that he'll forget you're near him while moves around, sweeping your feet out from under you. He definitely learns with time, but you're having much more fun being carried around while at your normal size.

You've pranked Stretch by pretending to be a rat a couple of times, scuttling from under a table or jumping at him suddenly because you are very funny! And also because he was trying to ignore your presence on the ship at first. What better ways to get along than to prank and bother him relentlessly until he talks to you? Unfortunately for his pride, it works, and the pranking turns into lighthearted inside jokes instead. He wont admit it, but hes much less jumpy at the sight of wandering mice and rats now...

I also think Stretch has some of the softest clothes on the ship, and that on some cold days, you can snooze in his hood/scarf while he plays some gentle tunes. Its a very relaxing time for both of you.

Red thinks you're so, so cute... now how can he convey this to you without sounding condescending?

Through trial and error of course! You can yell at him that hes being mean and he'll think its hot, but he will genuinely tweak his approach to you a bit. He'll call you kitten, but if you say you feel he's not taking you seriously when you're small he'll only say it when you're regular sized. Hell he'll call you boss or sir/lady if that's the only thing you can tolerate. And also because that's funny as hell.

You asked to help him with hard to reach nooks and crannies on the ship and its really bonding for you both. He will always check/clean whatever spot you need to reach a bit before you climb in (like a gentlemonster) and then he'll stare at your ass when you're reaching for whatever is inside (like a perv!).

Someone makes mother hen and chickadee joke.

Someone gets tossed off the ship.

It might not be the worst analogy though: Edge is quite protective of you when you're that small, and you can always turn to him when you're 'getting bullied' by the rest of the crew. Hide in his coat and stick your tongue out while he chides them, that'll show 'm!

Edge is probably one of the people who suggested creating a little room for you to do tiny crafts in so he doesn't accidentally blow your materials away when he walks past in a hurry. He has places to be! Its definitely not because he thinks you're cute and distracting nope--

He does kind of regret it sometimes when he hasn't seen you all day. Show him you thought of him by gifting him a tiny craft, yeah?

Reader might help Razz get super specialized tiny equipment to draw with, like incredibly sharp edged pencils or brushes with materials that you know will still draw well at that size. It could make his detailed works even better!!

...ifffff he lets you watch while he works of course. It'll help you get a better understanding of what he needs! Besides, its very easy to forget that there's a cute little human on your shoulder when you're concentrating that hard. Surely you wouldn't surprise-attack kiss him on the cheek will you? ;)

You get stolen/kidnapped by Cash often, for 'ransom' (food or favors from the others), 'evil purposes' (pranks) or 'for funsies' (attention). Depending on your tolerance/love for pranks he could be an awesome pranking buddy, or a bit of a nightmare.

He might scam people by selling you as a fairy in a cage and then stealing you back immediately, or by trying to convince you to help him cheat at games with a drunk bunch in a pub.

Of course, your ability to grow back to normal size ensures there's always some form of consent to these japes. If you've had enough, grow back to size on his shoulder or in his hand, that'll show him!! He's to lanky to keep his balance, even if he sees it coming.

Bear loves feeding you things when you're small, since most foods are tough to eat when your head is the size of a grape. For example, eating crackers forces you to nibble like a mouse would which is adorable to him. He also tries to make tiny sized dishes for you for a few reasons: one, it hides the before mentioned intentions of watching you eat behind just making you food, two, he's bored and tiny dishes are genuinely challenging, and three: it gets him genuine compliments and interactions with you, resulting in a lovely blushy skeleton.

Also the teaspoon thing would be so funny in this context lmao. You can buy or carve a pretty one to make him feel better about it if you want, and he would find it hilarious if you made and showed him tiny sized food utensils.

You pull Cinnamon around ratatouille-style on occasion. Or at least he definitely lets you lead him around the place while chatting excitedly about everything and nothing. He loves having you so close, and you've built up enough trust for him to know you wont embarrass or prank him. Not that you could pull off a prank anyway: his ability to see auras makes him the only person on the ship who rarely overlooks you when you're tiny.

You've both decided he doesn't tell the others where you are when you need some time alone, but he does feel better knowing you're safe on the ship somewhere, so you do give him a little wave when you spot him.

Then for some extra little tidbits:

If Blue or Red are being annoying while training with reader (as in using reader like a weight for training), reader will suddenly shrink to throw them off balance.

If you're the kind of person to avoid confrontation when you're in trouble then congrats! You can now blip out of place during any uncomfy conversation. This leads to things like the following:

If you nervously leave a lot of conversations by shrinking and leaving when Edge is grilling you, he might take the hint that he's being more harsh then you can handle and he'll treat you with a different tone of voice (to the best of his ability of course). He might use some excuse about his loud voice impacting your tiny tiny eardrums or something but we all know you're just a softy Edge <3

And if you're a trouble-maker like some of the gang, you might actually get on bears nerves enough for him to chase you! And as that usually ends with you shrinking to avoid getting hit with a teaspoon ladle, he just picks you up and puts you in his chest pocket. You are now officially in time-out, and you can either stay there and watch him cook or grow big again and get hit (or at least, thats the implied threat. You both know he wouldn't). He says you'll stay an hour, for punishment, but it only ends up being like ten minutes before he gives mercy. Unless you get all sleepy in his pocket of course...

If the crew would ever need to find and/or rescue you, they would send Cinnamon and Edge or Sans on the case: Cinnamon can find you with his aura vision, and Edge and Sans are respectively the most focused on the task at hand and able to pull you out of whatever place you're in without hurting you.

When the crew plays card games and you're to tired to play yourself, you'll sit on someones shoulder to give advice. Is it good advice? Possibly. Are you cheating by checking in on others? Maybe. Do you use your powers for good? If whoever you're sitting with has been nice, sure :) !

You're either considered a lucky charm or a menace, its up to you ;)

[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 14

WARNINGS: British swearing

Fred holds your hand as he leads you down the halls, and he doesn't seem to intend to let go anytime soon. You enjoy it, particularly admiring (you know it's cliché, but you can't help it) how large his hand feels compared to yours.

After a couple minutes, Fred finally stops in front of the window at the end of the Ravenclaw hall. You stare out the window, searching for whatever it is that Fred wants to show you.

He chuckles. "No, no. Over here." He puts his hands on the sides of your head and gently encourages it to turn. Your eyes land on a large, old tapestry hanging on the wall.

You're confused. There's nothing special about the tapestry. It's very worn, the colors faded and the tassels at the bottom clumping together. You can barely make out the image of Ravenclaw's blue eagle sewn into the center.

"What..." you start to say, but Fred shakes his head. He looks down the hall, then around the corner, checking to make sure you both really are alone. He lets go of your hand to approach the tapestry.

You are even more confused when Fred lifts the edge of the tapestry and walks behind it. Now his feet are all that can be seen, and you watch as they go up one at a time to hide behind the tapestry along with the rest of Fred's body, as if he was standing on a step. Fred lets the tapestry fall back into place, and you can't even tell that he's standing behind it.

"Fred?" you say after an uneventful moment. It's as if he's vanished into thin air.

Then a freckled hand pokes out from behind the tapestry and beckons to you. You obey, walking over nervously like the fabric eagle might come alive and lash out at you at any second.

At this point the hand has disappeared. You use your own to lift up the edge of the tapestry. Then you gasp. Fred is standing inside the wall, or, rather, standing inside a hole that's in the wall. There's an entire doorway (without the door) hiding behind the old Ravenclaw tapestry.

"How long has this been here?" you ask in awe, stepping up to join Fred.

It's dark behind the tapestry. Fred takes out his wand. "Lumos," he says, and the tip of his wand produces a light. Now you can see that the doorway extends into a dark staircase curving upward.

"George and I discovered it 'bout two years ago," Fred replies, starting up the stairs. You follow close behind. It smells heavily of moss and rotting wood. "But by the looks of it, this one's been around since Hogwarts was built."

You avoid a tiny spider scuttling past. "You say that like there's more."

"Oh yeah. There're loads of secret passageways all throughout the castle."

"This is fantastic! I had no idea... You'll have to show me the others some time."

"Gladly."

You both come to a halt at an old, decaying door. As Fred reaches for the knob, you notice a star welded into its tarnished silver.

You follow Fred through the door and out onto a small balcony. Fred mutters something, and his wand's light goes out.

The balcony overloooks the lake that sits by the castle. It's a breathtaking sight. The sunset is absolutely beautiful, and its reflection dancing over the lake is even more so.

You inhale deeply as a cool breeze blows by. "Wow..."

You turn to Fred and find him staring at you. It's obvious that he's just now realizing this as well when he quickly looks away, his ears turning red. You smile.

"So," Fred says, clearing his throat. "What do you think?" He gestures out to the scenery in front of you.

"It's magnificent. I wish I'd known about this little spot earlier."

"Glad you like it." Fred comes up next to you and rests his elbows on the railing.

It's peacefully quiet for a moment as you both gaze out over the lake. The rippling, sparkling water is almost mesmerizing. You glance over at Fred, then double take and laugh. He's got a bunch of cobwebs in his hair, probably from walking through that passageway.

"What?" Fred asks, smiling crookedly.

"Oh, nothing," you giggle. You go to pick the grey strings out of his red hair. "You just make a good feather duster." He bends down slightly for you, holding still while you work. When you're finished, you hold up the handful of old spider silk. Fred laughs.

Suddenly, you realize how very close you are to him. At that same moment, as his laughter subsides, Fred seems to realize it, too.

Butterflies come alive in your stomach. You and Fred hold each other's gazes and you feel your face grow hot. He smirks knowingly, still keeping your gaze, and your heart melts. The urge to kiss that smirk is so strong, but...

When Fred looks down at your lips, you panic and toss the handful of cobwebs into his face.

You immediately regret it as Fred stumbles backward in surprise, sputtering and swiping away the cobwebs. He gapes at you in shock. You're afraid of how he'll react until a devilish grin spreads across his face.

"Hoho! You've done it now, y/n!" Fred starts toward you.

You make a dash for the door to the passageway and swing it open. You squeal with delight (and a slight bit of genuine fear) as Fred chases after you, his large feet stomping intimidatingly down the stone steps. The darkness surrounding you makes it all the more frightening, but you don't dare stop to take your wand out.

"Please, I'm sorry, have mercy!" you plead, laughing and struggling to catch your breath at the same time. You reach the bottom of the stairs, somehow without falling, just as Fred reaches you.

You squeal once more as you feel Fred's hands catch your waist, tugging you away from the exit and closer to him. He begins to tickle you unforgivingly.

"No! Stop! Please!" you wheeze. You're utterly helpless against him.

"You brought this upon yourself!" Fred laughs maniacally.

Just then, a sickeningly familiar voice sounds from the other side of the tapestry, causing you both to freeze. It's Filch.

"Get out o' there!" Filch growls. "Anything that happens behind tapestries shouldn't be happening at all!"

Fred lets you go and follows you out of the secret passageway. The two of you emerge from behind the tapestry without saying a word, trying not to meet Filch's gaze. You can imagine how you and Fred must look as you both stand there panting and disheveled. You briefly comb your fingers through your messy hair.

Filch seems surprised to see you of all people partaking in such shenanigans. He's never once had to confiscate anything from you, or tell on you to the Headmaster.

Filch looks away from you to Fred and scowls, as if to say, "Now you on the other hand..."

"I ought to have you both punished!" Filch sneers. Then his face softens when he looks back at you. "But it's almost bedtime... so I'll let you two buggers off with a warning." He waggles a bony, disapproving finger.

"Thank you, Sir," you say. "It won't happen again."

Filch waves an uncaring hand as you and Fred jog away.

"Suck up," Fred coughs once the two of you have put enough distance between Filch and yourselves.

"What?! I just saved your butt!" you laugh, poking him playfully in the ribs.

At that moment, George comes skidding around the corner, almost smacking into you.

"Fred! Y/n! Where the bloody hell have you been?" George pants. "There's something you've got to see!"

[loptrcoptr]

Ok yall. I just got moved to a new office yesterday. I am (for now) the only person in this entire wing (three office spaces in one little building) and am the only person who has been in this wing since… I think this past summer??

Moment of silence for the guy who came in earlier to use the bathroom, having had like six months of more of this being– I assume– what he thought of as his secret private shitter, only to find his special bathroom engaged.

He rattled the knob so determinedly before his brain kicked back in and he remembered other humans exist and he said “oh. Uh hello?” To which me, on the toilet therein, replied “hello!” Maybe too cheerily and he was so shocked oh! Pardon me im very sorry pardon ahem and scuttled right out the door. Which is maybe for the best, because if he had waited for me to finish I would not have been able to keep myself from saying “hey it’s ok, it can be our private shitting bathroom if you still want to use it” and then I’d end up getting written up to HR, who is my friend, and said friend would get to professionally scold me for talking about special poop bathrooms to people on the job, which I think she would enjoy too much

[silvandar]

BG3 Durge run: casualty list, sunmary etc. Durge spoilers.

I absolutely loved this run. Durge is like playing a completely different game! The plot is fantastic, and the dialogues are hilarious and very clever.

My Durge looks almost exactly like this! Love this tattoo design.

Party: Durge fighter, Astarion, Shart, random hireling sorcerer. Picking Duergar was a Choice, their movement is dogshit and they keep getting stuck on jumps 😭

Act 1

Gale: maimed, presumed dead. Unless Mystra took pity on him.

The Grove: bloodbath. Stole everything that wasn't nailed down.

Wyll: dead

Goblin leaders: dead. Minthara tried to shiv me when i picked Astarion over her, should have rerolled just to see her romance scene but it was late and I was tired.

Karlach: dead. Attacked me on sight yelling about the Grove massacre, which was weird but cool. How did she knowwwwww.

Laezel: dead, because she tried to shiv me when i was sick. Otherwise we were besties 😭

Act 2

Oliver: squished

He Who Was: openly likes me, headcanon dating.

Last Light Inn: bloodbath

Jahira: dead

Isobel: dead

Yurgir: freed from contract because i couldn’t trick him into yeeting himself

Nightsong: dead

Shart: Dark Justiciar mode.

Durge plot: think I'm figuring it out. Orin is getting slapped later.

Daddy Thorm: dead. Surprisingly easy to kill when everyone has misty step and range.

Githyanki plot: pretty much ignored.

Romances: dating Astarion, flirting with Shart.

Durge has slayer form which everyone else in the camp thinks is gross, but Durge absolutely loves it.

Act 3

Picking and choosing quests is fun! I'm already level 8 so can easily ignore stuff that feels too "good" to be of interest.

Somehow my general terribleness has made me Chronically Single. So I had to bang drow beef without the offer of a foursome. Sigh. Choosing the "kinky" options was hilarious.

Kissed and made up with Gortash. He's a good guy really, very swauve. Looking forward to killing him later.

Ascended Astarion. Went at level 10, fight was surprisingly easy now I know the mechanics of the power boosts. Also having Turn Undead is big and clever. Watching Cazador scuttle like a cockroach was very cathartic.

Murder tribunal: Met Saravok, he was fun! Chatted about the old days, killed an elephant, bathed in some blood. Good times.

Nightsong redux: Robbed Lorroakan while he sulked about the Nightsong being dead. Astarion can now summon Ghouls. (Genuinely, just hopped on downstairs and cleaned out the vault. Not a single combat reaction from anyone. Bugged? Or just wizarding hubris? Didn't try to take anything from the main tower tho as I didn't need the robes or staff.)

House of Grief: Shart turned about 1/4 of the adds to our side, so it was a surprisingly easy fight. Shart is now God's Extra Special Princess.

Orin: died in 3 turns, just went Slayer on her and ripped her apart. Fun! Astarion has a new sword.

Saravok redux: Durge has a nice new sword and hat. Although he did one-shot me at one point. Don't know why I expected anything other than a fight, honestly.

Gortash: roasted by the Netherbrain. Saves me killing him I guess. Bit annoyed that I couldn't loot him.

Ignored Raphael and Orpheus completely. Gave the Emperor the Netherstones. Pretty much zero Githyanki plot on this run, as it seemed pointless with Laezel dead.

Netherbrain: much harder with only 2 sets of allies! Blinding the dragon helped, and for some reason the mage got stuck and glitched, so I consider the fight Cheesed By Accident.

Ending: murdered the Emperor, dominated the Netherbrain, turned my party into thralls, ruled the world as Bhaal's Chosen. Epic end scene, absolutely brilliant. IN BHAAL'S NAME!

[sofiaisqueen2004]

His Little Mermaid-Part 2

Summary: You're a mermaid, and you've wanted to see the human world all your life. Prince Eric has always wanted to explore the uncharted waters. When your two world collide, it seems like it was written in the stars.

Pairing: Prince Eric x Mermaid!Reader

Warnings: Violence (no more come to mind)

Note: This series has a mixture of both the original Little Mermaid movie and the new live action version. All rights reserved to Disney. I do not own any of these characters.

----------------

Upon the ship, there was a prince. He just turned eighteen that day, and his name was Eric. Starting from when he was little, he had such a fascination with the sea. He’s always heard the tales of the sea about Mermaids, luring sailors to their doom. But he never really believed them

“HEY! What’s going on kiddo? Quite a show eh?” Scuttle yelled.

“Shhh! Scuttle be quiet! They’ll hear you!” Y/n shushed. 

“Ohhh I get it! We’re being secretive!”

“I’ve never seen a human this close before…” Y/n begins to smile, “He’s very handsome, isn’t he?”

“I don’t know about handsome but the kid does play a mean snarfblatt!”

“Silence! Silence! It is now my honor and privilege to present our esteemed Prince Eric with a very special… very expensive… very large birthday present!” 

Two sailors begin to bring out the present. It was wrapped in tarp but it was very big.

“Aww Grimsby, you shouldn’t have.” The sailors pull off the tarp. Eric weakly smiles, “It’s uh… really something.” 

It was a large life size statue of Prince Eric in a dramatic pose. 

“I had hoped this would be a wedding present, but it’ll do for your birthday.”

Eric sighs and rolls his eyes, “C’mon Grims. Don’t Start!” He begins walking away towards the side of the bow of the ship. Y/n sees them coming towards her and she ducks down, closer to the side of the ship. Eric looks out towards the side of the ship, seeing the rolling waves pass by.

“Eric, It isn’t me alone. The entire kingdom wants to see you happily settled down with the right girl. Including your mother.”

“Oh she’s out there, somewhere. I just… I just haven’t found her yet.” 

“Perhaps you haven’t been looking hard enough.” Grimsby added.

“Believe me Grim, when I find her, I’ll know. Without a doubt!” All of the sudden, lightning strikes, causing Eric to look up. He sees dark clouds forming in the sky, and a strong wind begins to blow.

“Secure the rigging men!” Eric yells and begins tightening up the ship.

Y/n sits there on the rescue boat, watching everything. Another gust of wind picks up and blows Scuttle away.

“Gosh these winds! I’ll see ya later kid!” Scuttle yells.

Another lightning strikes, causing the mass to catch on fire. Grimsby attempts to catch the statue of Eric, but he just narrowly misses it. The statue falls deep into the water down below. In the midst of all of this happening, Grimsby falls into the water with most of the other sailors. Y/n decides to untie the rope holding the rescue boat, letting it fall into the water for the sailors to use. Then, she hears a huge splash and turns around. She sees Eric falling into the water, unconscious. She immediately swims towards him, helping him keep afloat. 

—-----------------

In the morning, she makes it to the shore of the nearest beach, which happens to be the beach of the island where the royal family lives. 

“Is he dead?” Y/n asked Scuttle worriedly.

“Hard to say…” Scuttle goes up to Eric, and begins to inspect his body. When he gets to his foot, he raises it to his ear. “Hmmm… I can’t make out a heartbeat…”

Y/n looks at Eric sadly. But suddenly, Eric stirs slightly.

“No, look! He’s breathing!” She begins to stroke his hair, “He’s so… beautiful. I would give anything to live where you are. What would I pay to stay here beside you.” Eric begins to turn his head towards Y/n, and begins to smile while his eyes are still closed.

Castle men begin to come down the hill behind them, shouting for Eric. In a haste, Y/n dives back into the water, trying to get away from the soldiers. She hides behind a rock, secretly watching the group.

“Eric! You really enjoy straining my blood pressure, don’t you?” Grimsby yells while attempting to pick up Eric.

Eric tries to stand up in a daze, “A girl… rescued me… she was… singing. She had- she had the most beautiful voice…”

“Eric, I think you’ve swallowed a bit too much seawater. Up we go!”

“I don’t know when, I don’t know how, someday I’ll be part of your world.” 

Down below, Ursula is watching from her underwater cave, plotting her newest scheme. 

“My, my… the daughter of the great Sea King interacting with a human… How shocking! What would old daddy say? She rolls her eyes, “Serves him right! That miserable old tyrant! Still, this little mermaid’s situation seems ripe with possibilities. Yes, I see the most brilliant future for this lovesick girl.”

—-----------------

Back at the King’s palace, Y/n’s sisters yell for her.

“Y/n dear! Time to come out! You’ve been in there all morning!” Andrina yells.

“We have to get dressed too, you know!” Adella adds.

“What is with her lately?” Aquata asks.

“I know what you mean. Mooning around with that giddy smile on her face.” Said Attina.

“I asked her what was wrong but she wouldn’t tell me anything!”

“Isn’t it obvious? The girl’s in love!”

All the sisters gasp, “She’s in love?” How- with who?”

Y/n emerges from the room with her hair brushed nicely and a flower in her hair. She hums a tune while swimming past her sisters, nearly crashing into her father.

“Morning, daddy!”

“She’s got it bad!” her sisters laugh.

“What? What has she got? Their father questioned.

“Isn’t it obvious, daddy? Y/n’s in love!”

“Y/n… in love?”

—-----------------

“Where is Eric?” The Queen, Eric’s mother, asks.

“I’m not sure. I think he is still getting ready.” Grimsby responds.

“Ugh, is he still chasing over that fantasy girl?”

“I am afraid so, your Majesty.” Just then, Eric walks into the room.

“Ah, there you are. Come, have a seat. You must be tired.”

“I’m not tired.” Eric snaps back.

“Well then, come eat some breakfast-”

“I’m not hungry. I have better things to worry about. Grimsby, have any of the boats found anything?”

“Uh, I’m afraid not sir-”

“Then I will go look for her myself-” He turns to walk away before his mother stops him.

“NO! Eric. Your duties lie here. I will not let you look for this fantasy girl that you think is real anymore.” His mother yells.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

She sighs, “I forbid you from going on another ship. For anything.”

“What- Mother-” 

“Enough. You’re not allowed to go on another ship.”

“But I am helping the island. The ship I went on the other day carried very valuable trades. Did you know in other islands they use things we have on our island to cure malaria? We brought those things to those islands and they traded with us.”

“And where is that stuff now?” She raises her eyebrows at him. “At the bottom of the sea.” Eric rolls his eyes and walks the other way, his mother catching up to him. “There have been 7 shipwrecks in the past couple months. The sea gods are against us.”

“You’re wrong.” Eric then turns away and starts running down the staircase that leads to the beach. “All I’ve ever wanted was the open sea and sky, freedom from the life I always knew. I had almost drowned, ‘til you came around and you found me. All I do is wonder who you are and where you’ll be. In my mind, your melody goes on. I will finally find you again. In uncharted waters, come find me again!” Eric sings out towards the shore, hoping the mystery woman emerges from the wild uncharted waters.