#the railway panic

[clove-pinks]

Eighteen-Forties Friday: The Railway Dragon

An illustration by George Cruikshank in The Table Book, 1845 (The British Museum). The commentary in Richard A. Vogler's book Graphic Works of George Cruikshank adds that the accompanying text signed by Angus B. Reach and titled "The Natural History of the Panic" details "the way this monster has destroyed Englishmen by gobbling up their money."

Conveniently, another book from 1845 addresses the crises driven by financial speculation in railroads: The Railway Panic: Hints to Railroad Speculators, Together with the Influence Railroads Will Have Upon Society, Together with the Laws on the Subject, by Henry Wilson (Google Books). Although Wilson denounces "modern schemers" and speculation, he's very pro-railroad, and he even thinks that railway travel will break down class barriers:

In former times, each class of persons had their modes of travelling. There was for the rich, the post chaise; for the country gentleman, the mail; for the tradesman, the stage coach; and for the poor, the waggon; a man's respectability was established by the mode in which he travelled. The difference between railway and stage coach travelling is nearly all the difference between civilization and barbarism. The railways will, ultimately, reverse the picture; and the rich will be brought in contact and converse with the poor, sympathies are engendered between the various classes, and the manners of the higher class descend to the lower.

Karl Marx evidently thought something similar in 1848, according to William Scheuerman in The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Spring 2023 Edition): "Despite their ills as instruments of capitalist exploitation, Marx argued, new technologies that increased possibilities for human interaction across borders ultimately represented a progressive force in history."

It was Scheuerman's article on globalization that made me reflect on "the compression of territoriality," as he puts it, with new modes of travel making the world seem more accessible and smaller in the 1840s.

Writing in 1839, an English journalist commented on the implications of rail travel by anxiously postulating that as distance was “annihilated, the surface of our country would, as it were, shrivel in size until it became not much bigger than one immense city” (Harvey 1996, 242). A few years later, Heinrich Heine, the émigré German-Jewish poet, captured this same experience when he noted: “space is killed by the railways. I feel as if the mountains and forests of all countries were advancing on Paris. Even now, I can smell the German linden trees; the North Sea’s breakers are rolling against my door” (Schivelbusch 1978, 34)

Or maybe just a train monster in your kitchen

[iris-echos]

Hey yallll

Ive had tumblr for a while but ive only just started using it bc i found out my (now ex but we chill i prommy) girlfriend is on it so i thought id do a lil into

My name is neither iris nor echo but bc im not gonna share my name here just call me one of those if youre gonna refer to me by anything

Im a minor so dont be like... weird or creepy or anything (basically no sexual stuff and no one flirt with me)

I am in so many damn fandoms like the magnus archives/protocol, welcome to nightvale, supernatural, Sherlock, doctor who, good omens, ofmd, dndads theres others but i can't think of any more

Uhhhhhhhhhhh

I do art sometimes? Its not always great but im proud of it (i love making tma fanart bc it gives me excuses for shitty proportions)

I also really like music... like a lot

I have adhd and probably other stuff but adhd is the only one that's confirmed

Oh and yeah just dont be an asshole both on my page and just in general (no bullying, racism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, sexism, ect.) i dont care if it was "just a joke"

Thats it bye guyssss

Edit: full fandom list (will be updated) i may interact with some of these more than others but unless i remove one im still fairly interested in it and may mention it occasionally

Batman/dc/batfam

Criminal minds (s6)

The Magnus Archives (not really protocol as much bc i like binging episodes)

Dungeons and daddies/peachyville

Malevolent

House MD (s3)

Merlin BBC (s5 but not finished)

Sherlock BBC

Supernatural (s10/11? Idk its been a while)

Doctor Who (s8)

Newsies

Romeo and Juliet

Will Wood

Good Omens

Dead Boy Detectives

Midst (newly started)

Hannibal (s1)

Midst (s2)

[mariusperkins]

worrying over potential plots for S3 of the gilded age from "what if the Russells get Divorced" to "what if the wall st crash of 1884 happens" to "what if they find out that the Russell's chef isn't really French"

[thegreatyin]

Okay, I am in need of an update. What was the Scoundrel’s reaction to seeing Furnace without her helmet?

confusion! followed by intrigue. followed by fascination. followed by horror. followed by blanching and running away for a minute or two while they have a fear-induced freakout in a corner (while furnace is still laying there. horribly wounded. fantastic bedside manner, scoundrel!)

tldr: they hate the discordance and they want to go home

[because-its-eurovision]

Eyyy happy birthday 🎉🎉

Thanl youuuuu 🎉🎉🎉

[lectern-fullcauldron]

things I really appreciate about hermitcraft:

I love that the hermits clubbed together to buy tfc a new pc and monitor in 2020, with a massive screen aimed at combatting his migraines and motion sickness

I love that cubfan has Joe Hills twitch emotes as part of his collection. Joe won't sign a twitch contract and can't have his own emotes, so cub just made some for his subscribers to play with on Joe's streams

I love that Keralis keeps sending computer mice and other gear to the other hermits whenever they mention computer problems (because when you own a hardware company, why wouldn't you be your friends' sugar daddy)

I love that Joe has mentioned that grian will resource gather for other hermits off camera in his free time, just because he can

I love that when iskall talked about his hermitcraft downtime, he said that none of the others tried to force him to make a video, they all just popped in and out, offering his various projects they were working on to see if he wanted to join in

I love that the hermits always have lots of advice for each other - whether it be parenting advice for doc, or just in having worked with mumbo since he was 17 and in sixth form college, of talking about tfc's wisdom (and sometimes we even get to learn about tango's washing machine and international taxes)

I love that hermits will take on infrastructure projects, like netherhubs and railways and roads and enderfarms

I love hermits helping hermits

I love stream weekends

I love that some hermits are dedicated enough to neglect their own bases and spend weeks helping out a friend - particularly Cleo, moving into stress' season six castle and Scarland and more to build diorama after diorama.

I love the dedication that the hermits have, and I appreciate how hard they worked for the king arc, the crossover, and the charity stream.

I love the strength of the community when a charity stream comes around.

I love that hermits will rush across the server or panic log in when someone needs help - killing doc's escaped withers, collecting gear, clearing lava after a tactical log out, turning off farms

I love that they offer each other building advice and redstone help (even if it is just scar and iskall being judgy about block choice)

I love scar's first reaction to ever seeing grian in person was 'you're drowning in fans at this convention, I wish I could help you, but we don't know each other yet'

I love Hypno and Joe singing karaoke at minecon in 2012

I love that they do make a wish hermitcraft guests and hermits who can help will be there

I love shared farms and shared resources, and a hermit flying in unprompted to drop off a shulker of that thing you mentioned you needed for no charge

I love hermitcraft as a community

[oukabarsburgblr]

Man in the Elevator [Office AU]

FEATURING : MALE STRANGER (OC) x male reader

As you arrive to work, you find yourself stuck in the elevator with a handsome unknown coworker. Unable to exit, a robotic voice from the intercom announces that to leave the elevator, you'd have to do the despicable. And with a total hot stranger?!

Dubcon, variation of sex pollen kind of fic, male oc x male reader

aftermath

Find out more under the cut!

What kind of porn scenario is this?!

The (h/c) gritted his teeth, tempted to smash the button of the intercom. "...I think someone is just messing with us." He didn't want to turn around, only glancing at the mirror to his left, the only big reflective piece in the small elevator.

A man, handsome (m/n) noted, stood in a nice, ironed black suit, a navy button up and a matching black tie. His skin was pale, spiky and short dark hair, his build strong and quite beefy. He'd look like someone you'd have a crush on at the gym. The expensive one you'd think twice before purchasing a membership.

Daisuke Yuichi.

(m/n) read his name tag as he sighed and crouched down on the elevator floor, hearing the man behind him trying to reassure him.

It was like any other morning, he'd wake up, get ready for his job at any normal office environment and arrive to work using the public railway. Although the normal elevator he would use in the lobby was unusable, scheduled for maintenance, and he opted to use the lower ground one on the west side of the building so he went downstairs to the garage.

He didn't pay any mind when a guy who looks richer than his office acquiantances waited for the elevator beside him and stepped inside as well. It was sudden when the elevator shook and went rigid, not responding when the (h/c) frantically smashed the button to open the elevator.

"To exit the elevator, please commit sexual intercourse with the person closest to you!"

The (h/c) felt his stomach dropped as the formal prerecorded voice rang inside the lift. A gasp escaped the stranger behind him as well. "Hey what the fuck? This isn't funny!" He kicked the metal doors, agitated but to no avail.

"To exit the elevator, please commit sexual intercourse with the person closest to you!"

"I...This never happened before..." (m/n) turned behind him. The good-looking man had a worried expression. "Can you try calling for maintenance? My phone has no line."

True to his words, the (h/c) could not call anyone for help, limiting his communication to the outside world making him feel more panic inside. "Damn it..."

Currently, every time they pressed any button whatsoever, the same message would repeat, clarifying that someone needs to fuck someone and (m/n) would rather not be involved. Well-

"I'm really sorry if I make you feel uncomfortable...I'll stop talking now." The stranger, Daisuke, really tried his best to reaffirm the (h/c) as he sat in the corner, as far as he could but (m/n) ignored him, too annoyed to even talk. It doesn't help that his face was a real beaut too. One of those gentle giants that girls would rave over.

"..." (m/n) didn't speak, annoyed at the whole situation as he remained his crouched stance, crinkling his suit. "Do you...work here too?"

The (h/c) groaned, Daisuke really was a chatterbox, either that or he speaks to calm his nerves. "If it isn't any obvious, then yes. I do work here." He snapped accidentally.

"Sorry. My name is Daisuke! Daisuke Yuichi." Hearing (m/n) respond made Daisuke's tone much lighter, smiling as he held out a hand. The (h/c) grabbed it and shook it lightly. "I know." "Eh? You know me?" "No. I read your nametag." "Oh..."

The ravenette seemed disappointed, (m/n) almost rolled his eyes. Was he supposed to be some hotshot or something?

"Can I know your name?" "(m/n) (l/n)." "That's a nice name." Daisuke's lips form a gentle smile, reaching his eyes. The (h/c)'s face was blank however.

"...so what's the plan?"

(m/n) squinted his eyes at Daisuke, who still had that polite smile on. If he had to describe this new stranger, a polite, neat, rich guy. Other words, a golden retriever, maybe?

"We wait. This can't go on forever." Daisuke pouted and looked the other way to hide his face. He mumbled an 'okay'. (m/n) was horrified. What the fuck was wrong with this guy? Was he ready to do the deed with anyone at any time?!

The (h/c) scooted further into the corner, burying his face into his knees. Waiting for the elevator to return to normal or when help somehow miraculously arrived.

Half an hour passed when the intercom suddenly announced that 'assistance' would commence.

"To ease the occurence of an intercouse, external assistance would be provided!"

(m/n) was screaming internally and screamed externally when visible coloured gas came pouring in from the vents. It was heavy from Daisuke's side. "Hey hey! It's okay. We'll be fine." The ravenette held (m/n) by his shoulders when the (h/c) was panicking and thrashing about.

"You're fucking with me right now?! This is absurd!" (m/n) wailed into Daisuke's hold as the ravenette immediately took off his blazer. He grabbed a water bottle and soaked part of his blazer and pressed it into the (h/c)'s face.

"Don't breathe it in. This will help." "What about you?!" (m/n)'s voice muffled against the damp clothing. He only noticed the rising red hue on Daisuke's cheeks and the flush on his neck and ears. He smiled apollogetically. "I think it's a bit too late for me."

The (h/c) blinked owlishly as he glanced at the feverish ravenette's crotch, his mouth screeching when he saw the big hard outline on his slacks. Daisuke sweatdropped as he slumped down against the wall of the elevator.

"Don't worry. I pride myself on my self-control. I'll just...ride it out." Daisuke smiled as he turned his face away, his breathing getting heavier and heavier.

(m/n) couldn't help but feel slightly guilty. He pressed the damp blazer further into his nostrils, the small space being filled up with the gas. He could feel himself getting slightly aroused, although notbas affected as Daisuke.

Said person only faced his body away, panting to himself in the corner while clutching his tie, pulling it loose. The ravenette closed his eyes, humming to distract himself from the growing fervour in his pants.

Daisuke felt bad for the other person in the lift, (m/n) that is. Such a handsome guy too. Wish our introduction was a bit different... Daisuke thought to himself, resisting to look at the (h/c).

"Daisuke..." "Yeah?" He croaked out. The aphrosidiac was really getting to him but he couldn't just pounce on the (h/c). What kind of person would he be then.

He flinched when a (s/c) hand grasped onto his shoulder. "Don't-!" "It's fine." (m/n) hummed, Daisuke's blazer was crumpled in a corner. The ravenette's eyes widened seeing (m/n) willingly inhale the stimulating gas.

"Why did you-" Daisuke went to cover (m/n)'s nostrils but the latter swatted his hand away. "It's...not fair for you. Besides, it's the only way we can get out of here right." The (h/c) straddled the ravenette, Daisuke's face becoming entirely flushed seeing (m/n) in his lap.

"We can do it." (m/n) mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows and glancing elsewhere. Daisuke stared at him for a bit before pushing his hips upwards, lightly grinding himself into the (h/c)'s crotch. (m/n) let out a surprise gasp as he clutched the ravenette's shoulders. He panted lightly as he tried to avoid Daisuke's horny gaze.

"....But I don't want to bottom." A vein almost popped on (m/n)'s forehead as he punched Daisuke's bicep. "FUCK OFF!" The ravenette laughed as he wrapped his arms around (m/n). "I'll do my best, (m/n)." He smiled up at the (h/c) who only nodded feverishly, feeling the lust fully taking over.

Daisuke pulled (m/n)'s waist down and began to rub their the (h/c)'s ass on his crotch, elliciting a few gasps from the latter. He could feel his nails digging into his shoulders which only drove his excitement further.

Daisuke unbuckled (m/n)'s belt, earning a whine and pulling his pants down. The (h/c) had never been so grateful that he was wearing nice briefs today. Daisuke palmed his erection, rubbing his thumb over the wet patch on his underwear.

(m/n) instantly pulled off his bottoms and hurriedly pawed at Daisuke's own pants. After their lower halves were bare, the ravenette slid his cock, (m/n) didn't dare to look at how big it was, in between the (h/c)'s ass, slipping and humping their bottoms together.

"Don't just- mmff! Shove it like that! Stroke it first- gah!"

"S-Sorry. Is this- ang ahh! Good for you- mmng!"

Even (m/n) was moving his hips, back and forth to reciprocate Daisuke's movements who was gliding his now wet cock under the (h/c)'s dick, balls and asscrack. (m/n) was confused on how the hell did Daisuke had that many precum as he stroked his own cock, ignoring the staring ravenette.

Everything felt hot and sticky, (m/n) felt every inch of his pores being pressed and melting. His body twitched against Daisuke's, his teeth gritting as he shut his eyes closed, relishing in this sinful hedonism. He flinched when he felt a spurt of wetness hitting his lower back.

"S-Sorry..." Daisuke clenched his teeth, clearly embarrassed of his quick ejaculation. (m/n) ogled the ravenette's face, scanning his reddened cheeks and long eyelashes. The world really did gifted this stranger with a good body and a good face. And the world gave this man to (m/n).

The (h/c) pursed his lips as he mumbled. "You talk too much..." He quickly jacked off his own penis, his hips stuttering when he came, Daisuke holding his waist in place. Cum smeared on Daisuke's clothed torso, littering his navy shit with milky white.

"To exit the elevator, please commit sexual intercourse with the person closest to you!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" (m/n) yelled at at the intercom, opting to throw his shoe at the button panel. He heard Daisuke chuckle as large hands began rubbing his sides up and down. "We don't have as much as a choice do we?"

The (h/c) slowly turned to see the smiling ravenette before scrunching his nose. "You're doing it from the back."

-

Hands gripped the cold metal railing, pants escaped from his mouth as it fogged up the mirror in front of him. (m/n) had long discarded his shoes but kept his long-sleeved top on. Daisuke had already unbuttoned his, well-defined abs, fat chest and his happy trail exposed as he pressed his crotch against (m/n)'s bottom.

Both of them were standing, the (h/c) bent over and holding the handrails of one of the two walls it was built in. Daisuke behind him, his large pale hands caressing (m/n)'s back, the latter slapping his hand away. It doesn't help that they just so happened to be in front of a mirror, fortunately for (m/n) it only showed their upper halves.

The ends of (m/n)'s shirt barely covered his behind, he felt Daisuke lightly touching it, Daisuke was thinking whether to move it but decided otherwise.

"Do you mind?" (m/n) looked up to see Daisuke holding two fingers near his face, his back almost touching Daisuke's bare chest. The (h/c) furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Why won't he do it himself?

"I've never done it with a guy before." "So?" The ravenette didn't answer, only pushing his fingers into the corner of mouth, (m/n) reluctanly opening his mouth, the gas influencing most of his decisions currently.

Daisuke began to rub his fingers all over (m/n)'s teeth, gums and his tongue prompting a gagging noise from the (h/c) as he rolled his eyes back. Instinctively, (m/n) began to suck on the thick, rough fingers, licking the padding before swirling his tongue all over his digits as knuckles knocked on his hard palate.

The ravenette's index and middle finger began to piston in and out of (m/n)'s mouth, dragging his saliva back and forth and encouraging choking noises from the (h/c). The bottom's eyesight was getting blurry and he glanced at the mirror to see Daisuke breathing heavily, his face flushed as he shoved his fingers down (m/n)'s throat.

This fucker is really getting off of this. The same could almost be said for the (h/c) who groaned as Daisuke finally pulled out, his fingers dripping with wetness and (m/n)'s throat felt raspy and sore. He flinched as cold fingers tapped on his entrance.

Daisuke tested the waters by gently prying (m/n)'s asshole, slowly pushing his fingers in as the (h/c) shivered. Sweat began to drip off of his face as he felt the ravenette behind him began caressing the inside of his hole, rubbing his walls and slowly pushing deeper and deeper.

"Mmnng just hurry up...please."

It was so teasing to feel the stranger trying to relax his hole by circling his fingers inside his ass. Clearly he wasn't lying when he said this was his first time with a man. "Patience is a virtue. I'll put it in soon." Daisuke teased (m/n) as he tapped his ass gently, the latter feeling heat rise on his face. As soon as they got out of this elevator, he's clocking his face.

Fingers pulled out and (m/n) sighed at the empty feeling in his anus but he heaved and immediately covered his mouth when Daisuke's tip suddenly impaled his entrance. The ravenette shivered as warmth enveloped his penis, he threw his head back and gazed at the mirror to see (m/n) but only found a shaking (h/c) whose head was facing the ground, concealing his expressions.

Daisuke frowned at that, wanting to see (m/n)'s face as he experimentally thrusted the rest of his penis in. He hissed at the tight hole, the (h/c) clenching down on him. The ravenette rubbed circles on (s/c) hips to calm him down as he felt the grip on his dick relaxing.

He let out a breath of relief as he gripped (m/n)'s hips and immediately pushed the rest of his cock in, hearing a muffled squeal from the (h/c). Daisuke grinned and took it as a green light, instantly thrusting in and out of his ass, moaning ardently. "F-Fucking hell. Haanh ha hah you feel so good-"

He took in the sight of his moving crotch and (m/n)'s ass colliding together, getting turned on more at the sight of his dick pounding into the squelching hole. The gas was too good at its job, precum leaking out of the (h/c)'s hole as Daisuke fucked into (m/n) harshly.

(m/n) cupped his mouth with his hand, not wanting to let out any lewd noises but having only little success. His thighs shook every time Daisuke's hips slapped into (m/n)'s behind. He could feel the ravenette's large cock pushing against his walls, filling him up to the brim.

Daisuke frowned at the (h/c)'s shirt as he pushed the fabric upwards, exposing a (s/c) back. A yelp escaped (m/n)'s lips as the ravenette licked a stripe up the (h/c)'s spine. The shock made him cum, semen squirting from his sensitive penis, spraying on the elevator walls.

The sudden tightness made Daisuke groan loudly as he stilled himself inside the (h/c). Unconsciously filling up (m/n)'s hole, the owner whimpered into his hand. "Urgh unh huh are we done-?"

"Required quota has not been achieved! Please try again!"

"Be so fucking for real right now." (m/n) groaned as he rested his head on the cool metal pole, he didn't move as Daisuke pulled out, liquid pulling out of his puffy hole. He could feel Daisuke's stare on his ass, he wiggled away when Daisuke began to poke into his drippy anus with his index finger.

Another wave of aphrosidiac poured into the lift from the vents, making (m/n) wanting to pull his hair out. What kind of sick pervert is making us do all of this??

"So."

The (h/c) let out a noise of shock as Daisuke suddenly hugged him close, pushing him against the mirror and the metail rail. "Can I do more than the back?" He smiled, blinking at (m/n) who stared at him in absurdity. The audacity??

Daisuke remained nonchalant, blinking his black eyes up at (m/n), his long lashes fluttering against his smooth white skin.

"...Fine."

Maybe (m/n) regretted saying that. Daisuke went on for so long, pushing him further up the wall, bringing up his left leg to push it against (m/n)'s chest. Exposing his puckered hole, the ravenette pushed in again, thrusting like a wild animal moaning like crazy in the (h/c)'s ear.

(m/n)'s leg was shaking, struggling to hold himself up on his tippy toes as he endured Daisuke's slams, covering his mouth again. The (h/c) shivered when Daisuke lapped his tongue at his ear, licking the shell and teasing him. He could feel cum from the previous round leaking down his leg.

"Don't cover your mouth please." The ravenette kissed (m/n)'s neck. "I want to hear you. Your voice." Daisuke pressed his lips on his jaw. "Please." He begged the (h/c), fucking himself in deep and slow earning a muffled whine.

His hand trembled before he hesitantly uncovered his mouth, Daisuke's face visibly lit up as he began to pound harder. (m/n)'s high pitched moans drawn out longer with each thrust. His hips shuddered when he felt a hand stroke his cock, pushing his precum out from the base of his dick.

His head was hot, everything felt hot, like he was smothered by a thick layer of warm air. And that warm air was causing him to these sinful things, well that's exactly what's happening.

(m/n) didn't even realised when they both had cummed. Only when Daisuke pulled himself back and began fingering his hole to get his attention. "Mmngg angh ah hn-!" "That's it. Thaaaaat's it."

Daisuke drew out his voice, whispering praise into (m/n)'s ear as he fished his semen in the tight entrance, rubbing his gummy walls. It was either the aphrosidiac had a love spell embedded into it or Daisuke was really attractive. The (h/c) took in his features, his sharp nose, round eyes and nice plump lips.

(m/n) felt like kissing the ravenette. He shook himself sober when he realised he was leaning into Daisuke's face, the latter disappointed when he pulled away.

It's fine if (m/n) doesn't feel like kissing him, Daisuke does. And he'll coax him using sex!

"Required quota has not been achieved! Please try again!"

The next few scenes were a blur to (m/n). All he could remember was that the gas was the thickest for the next hour, and he was moved into all sorts of positions. Daisuke fucked him up a wall, his arms under his knees as he held up the (h/c) like a champ, his muscles sweating as he teared off the rest of his clothing, exposing his bare body to (m/n).

His thrusts began to increase as well, the lust seeping in their veins were at its maximum as they fucked like wild animals in the small elevator. (m/n) whined for more by spreading his legs, biting on Daisuke's neck, nibbling on his skin and leaving marks all over his flushed neck.

Cumming into the (h/c), Daisuke pushed his thighs against the wall, fully spreading (m/n) open, the rim of his hole stretched as it throbbed around the ravenette's dick, massaging it and swallowing it whole. (m/n) no longer held back his voice, openly crying and moaning like a bitch in heat, fully accepting the gas into his system. Daisuke did a long time ago.

The ravenette breathed in (m/n)'s scent in his neck, inhaling before hovering over the (h/c)'s neck with his lips, experimentally kissing it all over. (m/n) bit his lower lip, gazing at the ravenette as he was still held in an embarrassing exposed position.

A pink tongue pressed against (m/n)'s Adam's apple, lapping it up with spit as he bit the skin with his fangs, breaking it. The (h/c) squirmed, mewling in Daisuke's hold. "Stop teasing me..." He muttered, his gaze elsewhere.

Black eyes scan (m/n)'s face before his right hand softly pulled his chin to make eye contact. Daisuke carefully leaned forward, his breath mixing in with (m/n)'s as he leaned in closer and closer, the tips of their noses touching. The (h/c) peered, his eyes moving left and right before stopping, gently blinking as he stared at the face in front of him.

Slowly, Daisuke's face moved lower, his lips brushing against (m/n)'s before full-on pressing them together. The (h/c) closed his eyes, relishing in the soft kiss as he felt his body relaxed in Daisuke's hold.

A swipe at his teeth and (m/n) opened his mouth, Daisuke eager to tie their tongues together, mashing them and coating them with saliva. Drool seeped out of the corner of Daisuke's mouth, he shoved his tongue against (m/n)'s gums, teeth and his palate.

They both ignored the announcement of the intercom as Daisuke lowered them to the floor. (m/n) wrapped his arms around the ravenette's neck, pulling him in closer and Daisuke tilted his head to obtain more access to the (h/c)'s delicious mouth.

The mood changed instantly, even with the gas dissipating, they were still going at it, both on their knees and Daisuke thrusting up into (m/n)'s bottom as he stationed himself behind the (h/c) whose top had been pulled off by Daisuke, exposing his chest. (m/n) moved himself as well, bouncing against Daisuke's thighs, impaling himself over and over, his head turned behind as he continued making out sloppily with the ravenette.

Passionate gasps tore through the small space of the elevator, especially from the (h/c) every time Daisuke thrusted a little too harsh, driving the tip of his cock into the bundle of nerves that drove (m/n) insane, making him see stars just from that small wet touch. Daisuke couldn't stop cumming in (m/n)'s ass. It was so addicting. It wasn't much different from a woman's but (m/n) was so incredible in his eyes.

Fingers rubbed and twisted (m/n)'s nipples, making the latter broke contact from Daisuke's face, a string of spit breaking as the (h/c)'s body shivered when the ravenette pressed his fingers harder. (m/n) jerkily shoved his ass down, tightening himself on Daisuke's cock, the ravenette gasped out and buried his face into the (h/c)'s shoulders as he immediately spilled cum in (m/n)'s already filled hole.

White semen dripped out onto the floor beneath them, (m/n) moving up and down shallowly on Daisuke's cock, teasing him. The (h/c) wanted more. Daisuke was close to passing out. Tiredly, he fell backwards, lying on the tile floor of the elevator. (m/n) whined as he turned around and crawled over the ravenette.

"Mmm are you done already?" (m/n) complained feverishly. Daisuke's cock was still hard, aphrosodiac working overtime but the owner could barely feel his hips anymore. "...I'm sleepy." He croaked out to which (m/n) frowned.

Daisuke flinched when he felt a tongue swiped across the bulb of his cock. (m/n) ran his tongue up until he reached the tip, sucking on the precious mushroom, licking the slit fervently. He released with a pop as he straddled the ravenette.

Nodding eagerly, he cried out for the (h/c) when his dick was enveloped in a plush warmth. (m/n) grinned lewdly, moving his hips side to side, clearly enjoying the joystick in his ass before he propped himself up with his hands and began to bounce on Daisuke's large cock.

His loud moans resonated in the small space as he threw his head back in pleasure, using Daisuke's penis like a warm dildo. Eyes twitching, his face was covered in sweat, his chin coated with a thin layer of drool and his anus was painted with thinning precum over and over again.

Daisuke's hands reached behind (m/n) and squeezed his plump ass, massaging and pulling at those soft cheeks. He slapped the (h/c)'s butt, earning a whorish moan, as he shamelessly thrusted himself up into (m/n). "C'mon- mmff! Just a bit more- mnggahh!"

Slaps of wet skin reverberated faster as Daisuke continuously smacked the (h/c)'s ass, rubbing his palm over the spot before hitting it again. (m/n) rode the ravenette harder, pressing down harshly, feeling the pit in his stomach burn intensely as he brought his hips up to clench on Daisuke's tip. Repeating the same motion for god knows how long before he came, squirting watery semen on Daisuke's abs.

The ravenette moved his hands to (m/n)'s hips, holding him in place as he pounded up into the (h/c)'s asshole from below, riding out (m/n)'s orgasm who cried out from overstimulation. He groaned and focused on chasing his own high as he slammed himself in and out of (m/n) until he felt himself tipping over the edge.

Daisuke came one last time, although his cum gushed out halfway through his thrust but he persevered and continued humping the (h/c) all while cumming for ten seconds straight.

Both paused, catching their breath before (m/n) collapsed on top of Daisuke, the latter wrapping his arms protectively around the (h/c) as he adjusted himself, making sure he pulled out and patted the (h/c)'s head before promptly passing out on the elevator floor.

(m/n) was still awake, his hands laying on Daisuke's chest as he stared at nothing, his mind blank and his balls empty, although his ass was filled. His eyes widened as he heard the familliar 'ding' of an elevator as he turned back to see the doors opening, revealing the garage they had came from earlier.

"Daisuke wake up! It's open!" He shook the ravenette in an attempt to wake him up but the latter only groaned and continued to remain in his dreamless slumber. (m/n) frowned as he hurriedly pried himself away Daisuke's strong hold.

He quickly dressed himself to the best of his abilities and donned on Daisuke's clothes onto the ravenette, not wanting him to get caught in a naked manner. Fixing his shoes, he collected himself and avoided the wet spots and quickly exited the elevator, wincing in every two steps he took.

With a final glance back to Daisuke, (m/n) hurriedly left the area, reminding himself not to use that same elevator ever again.

-

"(m/n)! Someone's looking for you."

The (h/c) looked up from his cubicle as he stood and approached his supervisor, the one who had called for him earlier. It had been two days since the incident. (m/n) lied to his boss, saying that he had overslept and took a sick day the next morning, not wanting to run into any weird shenanigans ever again. Especially the ravenette.

He tried asking his coworkers about some mysterious lift that's possessed by a sex demon but all he received was recommendations to a psychologist.

Stepping into a meeting room, guided by his supervisor, he was ushered inside and was immediately left alone, not noticing the other person in the room. "Hey! What's that for?" (m/n) pulled the door knob, knocking on the wooden surface.

"It's for me. I asked them to."

(m/n) froze, remembering the familliar voice. The voice he fucked two days ago in that really weird elevator. The same person he left alone, lying on the floor in a desperate attempt to save his own face.

"It wasn't hard to convince my father to search for you, you might know him. He's the CEO after all." Daisuke shrugged, playfully pulling the (h/c)'s tie, twirling it around his finger. He paused and smiled at (m/n).

"I miss you."

The (h/c) didn't know what to say and he opted to turn himself back around, not facing the ravenette as he tugged on the knob much more aggresively. Daisuke laughed as he pulled (m/n), who screeched and squirmed, into a hug.

"I wanna take you out, (m/n)! Even though we already skipped a couple of steps, I'd love for us to go on a date."

[END SCENE]

[unedited]

Afterthoughts :

Oml i love it if the reader is a tad bit sassy or just an untouchable (not shy) beauty HEHE

OR WHEN LIKE THE TOP MOANS??? LIKE U WAN ME THAT BAD?? HEHEHHEEH

this the same daisuke that was in my ybc gangbang fic btw hoho and by Office AU means that this is not their official like storyline that i want, it's just an AU where they fucked in a horny elevator

I would describe Daisuke Yuichi as someone who's rich AF, daddy's boy (as in father is so protective of him), nice and polite (although everyone has a dark side 😉), kinda needy and demanding but in a "i dont want to say it so im just hinting it until u say yes" kinda way. The only character i would describe that looks like him the most (hair term) is kashima yuu💀. I hope u look forward to see him more!

more of daisuke yuichi! ☾

aftermath , profile

[call-of-ishmael]

Outis has a very interesting aspect to her character i started thinking about when playing Timekilling Time:

In this exchange she is genuinely offended at not having been picked.

And she has a very similar moment in Canto V where upon her skills being brought into question by Ishmael shes also genuinely upset.

With one of the themes of the Odyssey being a mans struggle against fate, i feel these moments are yes comedy relief but also her letting show how important it is to her to be the one in control.

There is this very prominent perfectionism that leads to her harsh insults when confronted with the failure of others and leading her to show genuine distress at the situation going out of her control.

In the Railway 4 cutscene the mere vague possibility of the Head getting involved sends her into a panic.

I definitely need to write up a better post about it.

[strawberrystepmom]

the one

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

word count: 10k

about: in the aftermath of incredible loss and pain and nearly losing satoru himself, a week long road trip on one of the most famous routes in the world solidifies what you've already known to be true about gojo - he is the one for you & you for him.

contents: nsfw - mdni. established relationship (reader and gojo are engaged), story told through vignettes, major spoilers for ch 220 and beyond although the story is not canon compliant (gojo dies and is revived), major character deaths and discussion of them, descriptions of anxiety, panic attacks, and dealing with trauma, discussions about marriage and engagement, mentions of blood and injury.

gojo has an identity crisis, reader is a teacher and is appointed interim principal of the Tokyo campus, lots of flowery descriptions of nature and of my beloved california (i am not a california girl but i have longed my whole life 2 be one), gojo is referred to as husband, sweetheart, and baby, reader is referred to as wife, angel, pretty, and baby, reader has breasts, small smut scene with sensual and romantic unprotected piv sex, mutual body worship, vaginal fingering, creampie.

notes: if you have made it to this point and still want to read, thank you. this is a love letter spritzed with parfums de marly delina sent directly to gojo satoru from me and i'm very proud of this work.

he's so important to me and i think exploring him when he can't hide behind the veneer of being strong anymore is one of the most worthwhile uses of my time since ever. i hope that you enjoy ♡

wavy divider thanks to @/cafekitsune!!!!

One week.

One measly, little week - 168 hours or seven unique opportunities to see the sun rise and set - is all you’re asking to be granted while promising all but your limbs and hypothetical first born child to the acting principal of both the Kyoto and Tokyo campuses following the deaths of both Yaga and Gakuganji.

Utahime’s arms are folded over her chest and her mouth is set in a firm line while taking everything that has happened over the last month into consideration. Do you guys even have time for a break of any kind? 

Time, as you and her have both learned since that fateful night in Shibuya, becomes more difficult to quantify when you feel it’s slipping away. Every day since October 31st has felt like something each of you have had to earn rather than been given by sheer act of existence. It has been a fight since the moment each of you stepped foot into the railway station and now that it’s over, things feel so undefined. 

What comes next now that the immediate evil is gone? There will always be another threat of danger that appears as soon as one is eliminated and all that’s left of the sorcery community learned the hard way that sometimes that evil proves difficult without the man who has worked tirelessly to keep all of you safe around.

“Please. He needs this so badly and I know if I don’t force him to stop, he won’t.”

Your plea causes her gaze to shift from downward to your face and Utahime’s distaste for the man in question all but disappears when she looks over the concerned furrow of your brow and the dark circles under your eyes. She watched Gojo being whisked away to return to the Tokyo campus, the place where the two of you are sitting and having this discussion, ripped to all but bits but still throwing his thumb up to confirm he’s okay to everyone’s mixed annoyance and amusement. 

Contemplating every aspect of the situation for a moment, she comes to the conclusion that this week is something both of you need and there’s no viable way for her to tell you no. Not when you look so desperate, hands shaking and eyes sunken. 

Despite the mess you will be leaving behind, building debris and rubble the mere surface of the ripples caused in your small community and wider society by Satoru’s defeat of Kenjaku and Sukuna both within days of each other, she feels there’s no other option but to reluctantly give in.

“Okay.”

The tone of her voice is so tentative you’re expecting a but as her very next word but she shuts her mouth with finality written across her face. Grateful, you bow your head and blink back tears but she walks toward you and grabs one of your hands. She squeezes it gently, reminding herself to avoid the spots you broke it in 7 weeks ago and you find the sudden change in her demeanor concerning. 

Did she change her mind? Is he going to have to go from half dead on a cold metal table right back into the swing of things? 

“When you get back, be ready because you’re in charge here.”

The news comes as a shock and she can tell, your eyes widening and hollowing further. Bile rises in your throat and you swallow, blinking additional tears back, ashamed that your weakness is what represents the strongest individuals you’ve ever met and not just the one who your heart belongs to.

Iori doesn’t stick around for long to watch you come to terms with your new position, simply squeezing your hand and patting it with the back of her other one, before dropping it to slink off to her students that stand on the opposite side of the lounge everyone is occupying. 

Shutting your eyes tightly, you use the time to balance yourself and remember that you can deal with the upcoming challenges when you return. What’s most important is the here and now and there are a few things you’re currently sure of. 

First, Satoru is alive and breathing despite the terror you experienced when he was not. Second, you have at least one week to contemplate your own future and in true procrastinator form, you will wait until the last minute to even begin processing the weight of the responsibilities that have been placed on your shoulders. 

“He’s asking for you.”

Shoko’s approach is stealthy and you don’t notice her until she’s pulling a glove off beside you, the snap of the latex making you forget the tidy little list you were creating in your head. She doesn’t look any more morose than usual and you take it as a good sign, awkwardly nodding and keeping your head pointed toward the ground to avoid prying eyes. 

It’s not like everyone doesn’t already know about the two of you but there’s no plausible deniability anymore. No coy smiles and playing it off like it’s no big deal, not when there’s an engagement ring nestled safely in its box on your nightstand at home and when he’s asking for you as soon as he wakes up.

The room is eerily silent as you shuffle out of it beside one of your oldest friends and this is where she finally drapes an arm around your shoulder, stopping you and crowding you off to the side of the hallway. 

“He doesn’t look like himself right now,” she warns and you nod. You expected it, his energy depleted by the time both battles were won, but you still swallow thickly and struggle to get the lump in your throat down. Once she’s certain you are okay, she nods and keeps her arm around your shoulder until you reach the metal door to her domain that separates you and the love of your life.

“I’m going to give you two some privacy but if you need me you know where I’ll be.”

You’re sure she’s grateful for the reprieve, catching sight of her puffy eyes as she turns to walk away. You stop her and she smiles wordlessly, friends for long enough that the two of you know what the other is thinking. 

Thank you, I know, I’m glad he’s okay too.

Pushing the door open you hear an exaggerated groan and a watery giggle bubbles out of you. He just can’t help himself, one arm wrapped securely and safely and the other still oozing through its bandages. His torso is exposed and you can see the blow that killed him firsthand, an unnaturally precise cut across his lower abdomen. 

This is the sight that chokes you up and he chuckles weakly, unable to lift his head more than a few inches. He does look different, covered in scrapes and cuts and blood of uncertain origin, but he’s still himself. Those dimples still stick out against his pale skin when he smiles weakly at you and despite its pinkish hue, his white hair sticks up on end like it always does.

“No crying, baby.”

Sniffling, you look toward the cold tiles below and he tuts from the operating table. Holding his cleanly wrapped arm up he curls a finger toward himself to beckon you over.

“C‘mere.”

Slowly, you do. Each footstep feels as though you’re walking across cracking ice and it makes you cautious, scared that you’ve deluded yourself into believing that he’s here and he’s fine and things are going to be okay and in the midst of the angst, suddenly you remember - he is. 

He’s in front of you and breathing and you can’t stop the tears from falling when you reach the edge of the table, reaching to cup his face in your palms like you always do. 

“Don’t ever do that to me again.”

Another weak chuckle and he wraps his hand around one of your wrists, delicately holding it with his thumb and index finger. 

“Didn’t you say that about the prison realm too?”

Nodding and sniffling, you smile and he smiles back. It’s warm and inviting and all you can think about is how you feared you’d never see it again; that he’d become another loss forcing you to grow colder and colder until the inevitability of becoming a husk like the other sorcerers in your life would come true. 

“Yeah, I guess I did. Maybe I need some new material.”

A chuckle that turns into a wince makes you coo and his half smile instantly turns smug, one corner of his mouth upturned into a smirk. 

“I have always been the funny one, haven’t I?”

Scoffing, you don’t playfully swat at him like you always do and he misses it. The gentle swipe of your fingers across his pec or shoulder or arm to let him know he has entertained you is something he will not take for granted from this day forward. His chest tightens and his loose grip around your wrist tightens.

It hasn’t registered quite yet that he almost never saw you again twice. That realization will come painfully when he’s struggling to sleep some night, wrapping himself around your body to be certain you will never leave his side, as all of his realizations about his own mortality do. 

Until then he’ll embrace the reality in front of him.

“I’m so happy to see you,” he whispers and you see a shadow of sadness cross his face, smirk drooping into a frown. Your palms on his skin leech warmth into his tired bones and he shifts his head to lean into one of your hands, eyes fluttering shut and staying that way until he musters enough humility to say what he wants to say to you the most.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s still the coward's way out but he’s simply too tired and weakened to go into the specifics of everything he’s sorry for. Is strength even worth it if you still managed to save so few people you care about? The weight of the world remains on his shoulders and you carefully lean over him, pressing your cheek to his and shifting your hands from his face to his shoulders. 

“Oh sweetheart,” it’s a nickname you rarely use for him and it makes his heart leap to hear it even when your voice cracks. “You have nothing to apologize for. Never to me.”

He wishes he agreed with you. 

“Well, I am and nothing like this will ever happen again.”

The unspoken truth between both of you is that he said the same thing when he was released from the prison realm weeks ago and yet, this happened.

“You can’t control everything, Satoru.” You lift your cheek from his and glance down at him to see his eyes half open. “Nothing that has happened is your fault.”

Something else he wishes he could agree with. He gives you a small smile and you lean to kiss his cheek, shutting your eyes tightly to keep from breaking into absolute hysterics. You’ve been teetering on the edge for days but you know this is not the time for your usual dramatics, it’s time to hold it together for him like he has done for you so many times.

“But we can and should talk about this more on our trip.”

His half open eyes shoot open and he looks at you with uncertainty etched in all of his pretty features. 

“Trip?”

Currently, he’s in no condition to go anywhere except for hopefully home with you tonight, but a few more hours with Shoko and his cursed energy slowly returning should be enough to get the process of healing going but he knows you know that and wonders what your angle is. 

“Road trip. Very little impact, all we have to do is fly to California and don’t worry, I’ll drive the whole time.”

He smiles and chuckles, reaching to capture your hand in his own and lift your palm to his mouth. Kissing you gently, he sits up a little more now that he’s feeling stronger and you lean on the side of the table.

“How long?”

“I had to practically beg for it but we both have a whole week off. The road trip will be 5 days and we’ll have two days to travel there and back.”

Summarizing the trip aloud makes it feel real despite you having done no work to make it so, eager to see him and how he’s doing before making any solid plans, but you can tell that he’s interested based solely by the look on his face. Still, you worry it’s too soon and too much after everything that has happened.

“Do you want to? We can always hold off and do it another time if you don’t feel up to it.”

He shakes his head and kisses your palm again, molding your fingers to the curve of his face so that he can be held by you for just a little while. Your touch may not heal him physically but it fills the gaps in his soul, the little pieces he has been torn into since October 31st, and he needs it more than he needs another session of energy granted to him from Shoko right now.

“I want to go as soon as we can. Especially if I get to look pretty in the passenger seat the entire time.”

It’s so beautiful to have him come back to you a bit at a time and your heart swells until you’re afraid it’ll burst when you look down at him. His eyes are shut again and his cheek fits perfectly in your palm, just as it always does. 

He lived and now he gets to have a week by your side with no responsibilities. If he weren’t so comforted by your presence right now, certain you are real and tangible and holding him to the best of your ability in his current condition, he would believe that he’s still dead.

“I should let Shoko get back to work,” you say finally and he whines. A little bit more of him comes back with each passing moment and emotion swells again, your eyes burning when they start to well up. 

“I love you,” he whispers and you lean down to kiss him for real, your soft lips hungrily pressing against his dry and split ones for the first time since he left you and came back. It’s familiar and it sends you over the edge, tears breeching your closed eyes and dripping onto his cheek. He laughs, although it’s a bit hollow, and you back your face away from his.

“I told you no crying.”

You laugh and lean in to steal another kiss, his arm wrapping around your body and cupping your hip. The kiss grows in intensity, although it’s more a lazy exploration of each other’s mouths more than it is an earnest makeout session, and his hand slides from your hip to your ass just as the metal door screeches open.

“Save that for when I send him home with you tonight.”

Heels clack across the tile floor and you peel yourself away from Satoru, who keeps his hand firmly cupping your ass, turning your head to see Shoko snapping on a pair of gloves and walking toward her patient. You shoot her a grateful smile and she nods her head, letting you lean in for one more kiss before reluctantly parting.

“Man I love her,” you hear him mutter to Shoko who laughs and shakes her head as you’re leaving. 

“Yeah, I know. You never shut up about it even when you’re half dead.”

DAY 1 - SAN FRANCISCO, CA

Your flight landed three hours ago, 9 hours passing far more quickly than you expected. Satoru held your hand the entire flight and you let him have the window seat, watching clouds obscure the light dancing over his face every time he'd shift his gaze toward the sky outside. Looking at him never gets old, even with a baseball cap pulled over his face to obscure his injuries despite how much they’ve improved since days ago. 

Disembarking and entering the airport felt like going through the motions and you realized while grabbing your luggage that it has felt like that all day. It feels like just going through the motions despite everything and your excitement for the next several days and guilt gnaws at you because of it. Shouldn’t you be living every day, minute, second as joyfully as possible given Satoru is alive and with you? Why do you still feel so bad?

The feeling remains a mystery while the two of you gradually make your way out of the airport and into the cool city lying outside, your rental car already picked up and the keys jingling in your hand as you unlock the door to load everything up. Gojo takes the duties over for you and you smile at him gratefully, heading to the driver’s seat to get settled in.

“You alright?”

He has asked you many times today how you’re doing and your answer has been a polite nod and a smile each time, maybe a muttered “yeah I’m alright” if he’s lucky, but he can tell something is bothering you. Chalking it up to travel anxiety, he slides into the passenger seat and finally takes his hat off, chucking it aside. You watch his wispy hair fall over his face, the dark bruise on his cheekbone finally looking lighter than it did when you left Tokyo this morning and you genuinely smile for the first time all day.

“Hello handsome.”

Satoru chuckles and you laugh along with him, eyes crinkling at the corners. You aren’t sure if it’s exhausted delirium making you feel better but you allow yourself to feel at ease for the first time in weeks, settling into your seat and starting the engine of the mid size SUV that will be your chariot for the next several days.

“Do you wanna go straight to the hotel or did you want to stop somewhere first?”

He hums, thinking, and his stomach growls which gives him his answer.

“Let’s stop and get something to eat.”

You nod, tipping your head toward his phone.

“Your pick. Find a place and I’ll get us there.”

Picking the device up, he smiles at the sight of your face next to his on the screen, matching grins as big as your faces. Hopefully there will be opportunities for more photos just like that one on this trip despite how worn both of you feel right now. 

Even smiling sounds exhausting at this point but he musters one for you, opening the app with a little map as its logo, searching for restaurants near the airport. He wrinkles his nose at the list of chain restaurants and settles on a deli that looks easy to get in and out of, disinterested in a sit down meal. 

He turns the phone in your direction.

“Sounds good?”

You hum affirmatively and press on the screen, a digital voice through the speaker giving you turn by turn directions. You’ve visited San Francisco before and so has he, just not together, and the two of you smile contentedly watching the city roll by and you’ve arrived before you know it, parking on the sidewalk outside of the entrance. He grabs the cap he dropped onto the floorboards and slips it over his head, the bill covering his bruised eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you don’t notice he’s glancing at you until you turn to look at him and his brow is furrowed in concern. You are wound as tightly as he’s ever seen you and he worries this entire trip and the pressure of it is stressing you out more than you already are, the opposite of the desired effect. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, angel?”

Nodding, you plaster on a quick smile and reach for the door handle. 

“I think I’m just tired. I can’t remember the last time I slept well.”

He understands not to push any further despite lingering concern and he opens his door, stepping out into the cool evening and sighing contentedly, stretching his long limbs out. Still a little stiff from his injuries, he waits on the sidewalk for you to round the car and join him and wiggles his arms and hands. 

“You look so cute when you do that,” you mutter with a smile. For a moment, his concern quiets down but your face falls so quickly it comes straight back. Coming to his side, you clutch his hand as if it’s an anchor keeping you sane and nod in the direction of the door. “After you, baby.”

Gladly, he pulls you along with him and the bell over the door dings. It’s a small space and while not packed wall to wall, it’s more crowded than you expected on a weekday evening and you take it in stride, the overhead lighting making your eyes burn after a day spent in mostly darkness. Satoru leans down and kisses the top of your head, inspecting the menu hanging from the ceiling, keeping his mouth pressed against your hair and humming. It’s comforting and you appreciate the gesture, he knows you well enough to be able to tell when you’re struggling, but you can’t focus on what’s happening with the pit in your stomach growing wider by the second.

This room full of people has no idea what either of you have just been through. The weeks of hell, watching the man you love so much you’re afraid it will be your downfall, die in front of you and return like Lazarus himself, your best friend’s death. 

Your hands start to shake and your mouth runs dry.

They have no idea your fiancé just killed the body of a man he loved dearly for the second time or that children he assisted raising both lost their lives in the process. These strangers will never know or understand what happened, their lives continuing as carelessly and freely as they always have, and a lump develops in your throat remembering the responsibilities waiting for you when you return home. 

Your life has changed forever and the world keeps turning, a notion that is suffocating.

It has been years since your last panic attack but you recognize the feeling immediately. The room shrinks and you laugh nervously, balling your fists. Satoru recognizes something is wrong and tries to grab your attention, quietly mouthing words you can’t make out. Shaking your head and blinking, you laugh again and he uses his grip on your hand to gently guide you toward the door. He keeps his steps short and soft to make sure you stay with him until the two of you are able to find a way to slip outside. 

Bending at the knees slightly to come face level with you, he cups your face with your free hand and knits his brows together. If you can't remember the last time you had a panic attack neither can he and he wracks his tired brain to figure out how to make this better. You aren’t asking him to, just for his support, but he has failed to keep you safe and happy so many times he can’t bear to let you fall victim to your own mind while he stands and breathes beside you.

“Come on, let’s get in the car.”

Nodding, you can’t fight the tears anymore and they start to flow freely, dripping down your face and onto the sidewalk below as you let go of his hand long enough to skulk to the driver’s seat of the SUV. Opening the door and sliding in, the door has barely shut by the time you sob aloud, gasping for air and lifting your shaking hands to your face. 

Satoru grasps your wrists with one of his hands and pulls your hands down from your cheeks gently, using his other hand to position your head until you’re facing him. Seeing you like this utterly rends him, his own throat tightening watching you struggle to breathe. Without thinking, he does what he would do for his students in this situation.

“Can you breathe for me?”

Despite how sobs make your shoulders shake, you nod and try to inhale deeply through your nose. It still doesn’t feel like enough air but you panic less once it reaches your lungs, exhaling through your mouth.

“Oh, baby.” He hates that this is the only thing he can think of to say. There has and never will be a point where he’s better at words of comfort than you are and it intimidates him how his blindspots only come to light when people need him the most. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Without thinking, you blurt out the news you wanted to tell him after you returned home. 

“They’re making me principal.”

His eyes widen and he starts to grin but it dims as soon as he sees more tears fall down your face, your sniffling filling the car.

“They picked the best person for the job,” he comforts and you shake your head, refusing to believe that it’s true.

“They picked the easiest scapegoat. They’re going to kill me just like they did Yaga.”

The people who killed Yaga have been permanently removed from their positions by two of your students, their deaths coming just before Satoru’s battle with Sukuna began, but you still worry about what comes next. The clans now hold all of the power and if they’re angry enough over what occurred, you’re the person who will be on the hook to deal with it all.

“No one is going to do that, I would never let them.”

You sniffle and look away, brows furrowed while tears drip into your lap.

“What if it isn’t your choice, Satoru?”

A dark thought consumes the usually easy going man, his stomach turning. Has your faith in him wavered? Do you think he wouldn’t cut down anyone who dared try to hurt or upset you? 

“Look at me?”

You do, just as you do any time he asks, and he sighs defeatedly. Now your hackles are raised because you’re worried about him, sniffling and reaching across the car for him. You clutch onto his t-shirt and he lets you, the fabric spilling between your fingers.

“I will never let anything bad happen to you ever again.” You’ve never seen him look so serious, no trace of humor to be found anywhere. No glimmer in his tired blue eyes, no upturned lip to reveal a dimple. You know he needs this confirmation and you nod, sniffling and pulling him closer to you with his shirt.

“Do you trust me?” You nod but it isn’t enough, his gaze still hardened. “I need you to say it.”

Swallowing to try and wet your dry mouth, you nod again and sniffle.

“I trust you with everything and I always will.” Another sniffle but you feel more normal, your breaths still coming quicker than usual but slowly steadying with each moment that passes. Keeping his shirt in your balled fists, you sigh and shake your head. “This isn’t about not trusting you, it’s about being afraid of what comes next.”

Now he understands. 

Your faith in him is unshakeable, something you have told him more times than you can count and meant every single one, but the future itself is terrifying. Nobody knows what is coming next, least of all you.

“I know but just like you always tell me, things will work out how they’re supposed to and if they don’t, I will kill anyone who is mean to you.”

Finally, this draws a watery laugh from you and he softens, posture slackening. His stomach growls again and you whine, upset that your own antics prevented him from doing what you two came here to do in the first place - eat.

“I’m sorry about this,” you mumble and he leans over the console to kiss your forehead. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, I’d rather get room service anyway.”

Sniffling again, you untangle your hands from his shirt and turn toward the wheel, positioning yourself to start driving again.

“Wanna go to the hotel then?”

He nods with a soft smile, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

“Do you want me to drive?”

You shake your head, face looking far less distraught than it did a few minutes ago, and he breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Will you really kill anyone who is mean to me?”

He hums exaggeratedly to accompany an animated nod.

“Thank you,” you whisper and he squeezes your shoulder with his arm.

“I’m a nice guy, what can I say?”

DAY 3 - MONTEREY, CA TO BIG SUR, CA

The California coastline glimmers beneath the sun and although you’re driving, you keep sneaking glances toward the edge of the highway, eyes widening every time something beautiful comes into view. You may as well keep them wide open, constantly amazed by the world surrounding you even as it breezes past while you drive.

Day 2 went off without a hitch for the most part, no panic attacks or the like occurring, but you noticed this morning that Satoru seemed quiet. His usual exuberance has been missing from your conversations, instead dimmed down into something that feels like an imitation of the man. You understand this is part of the process of coming to terms with everything that happens but you feel guilty, as if your outburst is keeping him from feeling comfortable enough to be himself.

It could also have nothing to do with you but it’s easier to blame yourself than it is to think about anything else that could possibly be bothering him, your tendency to fall on your sword even worse when it comes to him. The devotion he gives you is returned in full, your natural instinct always to keep him happy and away from anything that could hurt him as unfair as it can be to do so. 

You can’t protect anyone from sorrow, it comes as naturally as the waves wash up on the shore below you, all you can do is witness it unfold and hope it doesn’t become a tsunami.

The two of you have been driving in comfortable silence for miles, occasionally oohing aloud at the cliff sides, but it has become less comfortable now that you’re thinking about how it has been like this all day. You try to think of something to talk about but come up short, focusing on the road, and he captures your attention when he speaks.

“I saw them, you know. When I died.”

You raise your eyebrows but don’t look at him, keeping your focus on the road.

“Did you?”

Satoru nods and clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, carelessly sticking his hand out of the small crack in the unrolled window. It isn’t big enough to let the chilly winter air through but it’s just wide enough for him to feel the wind at 40 mph with his Infinity off. 

“Yup, they asked me about you. How you’re doing.”

He doesn’t have to say who he saw but you know, gut churning. It’s unlikely that Kento would ask, given you were one of the last people he saw before meeting his fate but Yu and - as painful as it is to even recall his name sometimes - Suguru would. 

“What’d you tell them?”

“The truth.”

Raising a brow, you focus on the road ahead of you and drum your fingertips idly against the sides of the steering wheel hoping he’ll elaborate on what the truth actually is. The silence sits heavier than you’d like it to and you open your mouth to end it but he beats you to the punch, head tipped back against the seat he’s sitting in. 

“Told them about us and that we’re going to get married.” You smile and he watches your cheek curve, mirroring it with one of his own that fades quickly while he continues speaking. “Told them you’re probably doing pretty badly because I failed to keep you safe. That you have been dead already.”

Shooting him a glance out of the corner of your eye, it’s hard to convey exactly how his words affect you while navigating a vehicle down an elevated single lane highway. 

Sometimes he forgets what it’s like to exist vulnerably. You’ve always been the wall between himself and the world, the place where he has allowed himself to soften and take down all airs, but now he wonders what it would be like if he extended that beyond just you. Other friends, what remains of his family, his students. He could never fully give himself to anyone the way he has to you but it’s something to consider while he spreads his fingers and lets the wind blow through them.

Does he deserve any of this?

He didn’t keep you safe. He didn’t keep Megumi or Tsumiki or Nobara safe. He failed, yet here he sits by your side, cold air chilling the tips of his fingers. In an instant, he feels nothing, turning his Infinity on wordlessly and keeping his gaze locked on the trees rushing by his window while you consider what to say to help him right now. 

“It has never been your responsibility to keep me safe, Satoru.”

He chuckles humorlessly and swallows so thickly you can hear it even with the sound of air entering the car through the cracked window. 

“For my entire life, my only purpose has been to keep people safe. If I can’t do that, what can I do?”

Glancing at the road, you spot the shoulder and decide to pull off to the side, parking and turning on your lights. Satoru has been wordless and still for longer than you’ve ever seen him and your heart breaks imagining how he must feel right now. 

The weight of the world is a heavy burden to carry and he has done it since before he could form full sentences, a fact you forget because he wears the responsibility as though it’s a cloak he can shrug off at any time, but you know that he takes it far more seriously inwardly. His life has been wrapped up in grooming him to be not simply a protector, but the protector, the gatekeeper of the insular society the two of you are a part of.

“Look at me?”

You ask just as he asked you to do two days ago and he does, the quarter turn of his head giving you an actual view of his face for the first time all day. He looks better than he did yesterday, scratches and bruises healing far faster than they would otherwise as he restores his energy. His eyes meet yours for a minute and you catch the shimmer that means his Infinity is turned on and you look away from him to compose yourself. 

His carefully crafted facade has shattered at his feet - he’ll always be The Strongest but his weakness was exposed in the form of bleeding out, severed through the middle, on a battlefield. What is he supposed to do now? 

Your eyes turn toward him once again and you sigh though it holds nothing but concern and you unbuckle your seatbelt to shift your body until you’re facing him, knees pressed against the center console. He half smiles and chuckles to himself seeing you move and get comfortable but it dies as quickly as it came, his head still pressed to the headrest while looking directly at you.

All you can do is help him pick up the pieces and figure out who he wants to be now that he has the ability to choose. 

“You know I don’t love you because you’re strong, right?”

He shrugs.

“I’m sure it probably helps.”

“No, Satoru. I love you because you make me laugh and cry and get angry sometimes. You let me be myself and never ask that I be anyone different even though I’m sure it would make your life easier if I were less stubborn and set in my ways.”

Getting choked up, you stop yourself and his eyes stop shimmering, Infinity off. He reaches across the center console and holds your hand, smoothing his thumb over the back of it and feeling the puckered wounds that are becoming eerily smooth scars. Swallowing, you blink and will yourself to keep it together until you get through what you have to say.

“I love you because you are courageous and that has nothing to do with your abilities, that’s who you are in your heart. You care so much despite how little you try to show it and your devotion goes deeper than the ocean and you are loyal and…”

Trailing off, searching for the words to sum up how you feel about him, he squeezes his hand and you see a peek of him in the soft smile on his face. Tipping his head to the side, he widens his eyes.

“You forgot handsome.”

Despite being near tears, you laugh and he feels warmer just listening to it and witnessing the grin he loves so much spreading across your face.

“You are the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on, even when you’re a little scraped up, don’t worry about that.”

Despite how difficult you have been to understand throughout various points in your decade long relationship with the man, he knows everything you’re saying is true or else you would not say it. You are too honest at times even if it’s sugarcoated to keep from hurting feelings but he knows you give him the most vulnerable form of yourself just as he does for you. 

He scrunches his nose and turns toward you, unbuckling so he can shift his body to face you. 

“Those sound like vows. Have you been practicing?”

Shrugging, you play his question off with a wry smile because he caught you. You still feel teary but blinking keeps any from coming and you idly play with his fingers and allow yourself to indulge in romance despite the heaviness still lingering between the two of you.

“Not necessarily practicing, just trying to figure out how to put how I feel about you into words because I don’t think the words I need exist.”

An arched brow is his response and you roll your eyes, tilting your chin toward the ground to hide your smile. He doesn’t want to coax anything additional out of you but the relief he feels knowing you still want to marry him despite everything that has happened is almost as comforting as the first breath he took waking back up after being healed enough to keep going by Shoko and Yuuta. 

He would be doing you both a disservice if he let you off the hook completely, though.

“So you still want to marry me?”

You scoff, lifting your head to look at him with a raised brow that mirrors the one he just gave you.

“Please. I’d marry you right now if you wanted.”

“Then do it.”

Opening your mouth to speak, you stop when the words won’t come, and he fills in the blanks for you.

“Let’s get married right now.”

“Satoru, we are in a car pulled off to the side of the road on one of the most famous highways in America.”

“So?”

At least his mood seems to have improved, the mischievous glimmer back in his eyes as he looks at where your hand and his take turns smoothing over each other. The two of you are always so sync even if you don’t realize it, seeking one another out like air, and you inhale sharply to keep from getting emotional once again.

“Okay. How do you wanna do it?”

He grins, shrugging.

“I guess we just say it.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you shoot at him despite the smile on your face and he leans across the center console to kiss you. It amazes you just how many different types of kisses this man can give you in the span of a few minutes, going from silly to sweet to sincere to sexy, but you’re grateful to be on the receiving end of each one. Your lips mold to his perfectly, no longer split and cracked the way they were a few days ago, and he pulls back from you with raised brows and meets your eyes.

“And you’re my wife.”

For as unceremonious as the event of apparently becoming his wife has been, you feel a rush of heat to your face when he says the word in reference to you and the way his gemstone eyes are gazing into yours tells you that he means it. You are his wife and as far as you’re concerned, just saying it is enough, you can worry about the rest later.

“Does that make you my husband?”

Smiling, he tips his head and leans forward to press his forehead against yours.

“I sure hope so.”

And so it begins, the rest of your trip as makeshift newlyweds, your heart pounding at the realization that this means forever. This is the commitment to one another you’ve both been anticipating and scared to make, you spent years running from him because you knew this was the only outcome, but with noses touching and two sets of eyes blinking at one another it has never been more apparent that you two were meant for this, for each other.

DAY 6 - MALIBU, CA - POINT DUME LOOKOUT

The final day of the trip has passed by at lightning speed, your flight leaving from LAX first thing in the morning. It feels correct that you’re spending your last few hours on some of the most beautiful soil on earth watching the sunset over the horizon in Malibu despite the cool air of the January day. The ocean glimmers and you can’t help but gasp in awe at what you see, feeling like a proverbial goddess staring at the open land below you.

“This is beautiful,” you mutter and Gojo joins your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He has a blanket and spare jacket tucked under the other, something to keep you both warm after the sun fully sets and the air grows colder.

“Almost as pretty as you.”

Rolling your eyes, you swat at his chest and suddenly every piece falls back into place. The past five days have been exactly what he needed to find himself, to return to who he is and who he wants to be, and it thrills him to think for even a moment that he may someday feel completely normal again. It won’t undo the things that have happened but it will help him make sense of them.

“Ouch,” he mutters playfully and you laugh, pulling the blanket out of the crook of his elbow and placing it on the ground below with a flourish and a shake of your hands. You instantly sink to the ground below, crossing your legs and sitting back with your hands bracing you. Satoru follows suit with an easy smile, sunglasses covering his eyes despite his facial injuries now being mostly gone. 

Sighing, you tip your head upward and let the sunlight warm it. 

Things are going to be okay, you tell yourself with an earnestness you couldn’t muster a week ago. This is exactly what you needed.

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, contentedly watching seabirds drift by in the distance, but you sit up and turn to face Gojo, smiling wistfully watching the sunset on his features.

“You wanna know what I’ve been thinking about lately?”

He hums at your question, nodding emphatically.

“Of course.”

Turning your face back toward the sunset, you recall a moment you have been thinking about since the moment it happened, the night he called you his soulmate. It was in the thick of an emotional evening after a long day, the two of you indulging in some pillow talk before falling asleep. It was so easy for him to say, as if he never assumed anything else could be true. 

“Years ago you told me you’ve always known it was going to be us and I brushed it off as you running your mouth,” Satoru fakes offense at your words but you smile wistfully, shaking your head and looking down toward your crossed thighs, the sun suddenly becoming too bright to keep gazing at. “But it’s not a coincidence it has ended up being us two, is it?”

You feel guilty for leaving out Shoko and Utahime and the other friends and students you have met along the way but he knows better than anyone what you mean. He smiles back and captures your hand in his, your palms pressed together while watching the sunset over the Pacific Ocean, cold winter waves lapping at the jagged rocks below the cliff you sit on. 

“Add clairvoyance to my list of skills because I called it, didn’t I?” Humor mixed with unwavering honesty, one of the things you love the most about Satoru, peeks through his every word and you feel so full of love it’s hard to do anything but finally stare at him, eyes squinting thanks to the last bright remnants of daylight. “Even back when you thought I was nothing but a pest with freakishly long arms I knew it had to be you.”

Giggling, you think back to those days that were a practical lifetime ago. Time seemed like it was endless, stretching on and on forever in sundrenched days lounging in the courtyard grass at school, and you assumed you had endless amounts of it. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, it’s all the same when you know you have theoretically at least six more decades to live. 

You were reckless with your feelings and even more so with those of others back then, the man next to you a frequent recipient of annoyed eye rolls and scoffs. He knows he deserved them all even if he gives you a hard time about them now, his boyish determination to impress you gradually buffing away your edges until none remained. 

To the uninitiated, it may appear he tamed you, buffed and smoothed you into perfection equal to his own, but anyone who matters knows better. Satoru remade you, as being loved unconditionally does to anyone. He loved you when you were scowling and spitting and swiping, refusing his friendship and certainly his affections, and he loves you now with your palm pressed against his while you gently breathe in brisk ocean air wrapped in his coat.

“Thank you for never giving up on me.”

He pulls you closer, chin resting on top of your head as it always does. No response comes and you don’t need one, content to listen to the soft puffs of air leaving his nostrils that ruffle the top of your hair. Weeks ago, you weren’t certain you’d ever hear them again. Now though, the mix of the roaring waves and his breaths and his heartbeat pounding against your back catch you off guard and you start to cry, a tear trailing down your nose. 

“Don’t do that. No crying.”

Despite the tears, you laugh. It’s impossible to do anything but when he looks down at you with his head cocked, a little mocking pout on his lips. Leaning up, you kiss him gently and he hums into it, thumb reaching to swipe the stray tear off of your cheek. Leaning back from him, you sniffle.

“Just a little? You know how I am.”

He shakes his head. How can he ever deny you anything? You’re his life, his reason, his world. His one.

“Okay, a tear or two for my little crybaby but that’s it.”

Whatever tears were welling up dissipate quickly when you start laughing and it wows you how it seems like everything is truly back to normal. The two of you glancing at one another like lovesick teenagers, the same as you did ten years ago, the same as you will for the rest of your lives.

“You were right, you know. We are soulmates.” 

He grins.

“That’s not something I hear from you often but I’ll take it.”

DAY 7 - TOKYO, JP

The 9 hours back home felt far longer than the ones passing on the way there but after a blissful week and an easy flight, you are home and you are clean and you are comfortable in your own bed.

Spread across the mattress in nothing but a towel, you listen to Satoru hum from the adjoining bathroom while he brushes his teeth, running water mingling with a song that kept playing on the radio during your trip that has been stuck in his head for four days. Giggling, you wonder if he knows you can hear him or if he’s truly in his own little world.

“Turn the water off, it’s wasteful!”

You playfully shout into the bathroom and you hear the water cease but the humming continues. He’s well aware that you’re listening and it’s glorious to see even more of him come home - his happiness returning and stabilizing over the last few days. You worried at the beginning of your trip things would never be the same and they won’t, of course, the losses you’ve both suffered more than any one person should have to, but they will feel good again and already do.

Speaking of feeling good, your husband (who is very insistent that you call him this despite no legal documentation of your marriage existing) saunters into the room with a towel low slung on his hips and you can’t help but let your eyes roam over every part of him. His arms are no longer bruised and scuffed, back to their defined and pristine glory. The face you know every contour of is back to normal as well, nary a trace of anything happening in the first place, but curiously - he isn’t devoting any energy to heal the scars across his torso. Small silvery slashes and the big one where Sukuna split him into two remain visible.

Your mouth waters watching him dry the ends of his hair with a towel and it’s no longer satisfying to merely look, you need to feel; to touch every piece of him to ensure he’s still here despite having done it many times over the last several days. Every touch will be like this for the rest of your life, you think, making sure he’s whole and real and yours.

“Come here,” you nod and tilt your head, flipping from your back onto your stomach and swinging your legs in the air behind you. Gojo hums, raising his eyebrows and sliding onto the bed next to you, leaning onto his side and propping his head up with a hand.

“What can I do for you?”

You giggle almost girlishly, fluttering your lashes for no particular reason other than to let him know that he still has the ability to fluster you a decade together later. Tentatively, you reach toward him and trace your finger over the scar through the middle of his torso, the flesh smooth and pearlescent.

“Keeping that one?”

He shrugs, looking down to see your single finger become an entire palm pressed against his abdomen, your fingers tracing small paths across his abs and chest. The muscles beneath your hand tense with each touch and you pull yourself to your knees, crawling across the bed to kneel beside him.

“Maybe I’ll get rid of it eventually. I have the choice, you know?”

That he does and you nod, understanding. Your hand continues to travel over his chest, smoothing over each of his pecs and your core flutters excitedly when your hand travels from his upper torso to the lower portion, fingers sliding beneath the knot of his towel. 

He looks over your body, the way that your tits are pressed together and spilling over the towel secured over them, eyes trailing from your cleavage to your shoulder where a jagged and angry scar of your own sits. It’s from an attempt to dismember you in Shibuya, to cleave your arm straight from your shoulder, yet you don’t let the fact that it’s there bother you a bit. 

Satoru’s cock starts to harden under his towel merely looking at you and you smile watching it come to life beneath the cotton covering it, pushing him backward and flat onto his back so that you can straddle him. Discarding your towel, you drop it on the floor next to the bed and lean over him, chests pressed together while your knees rest on either side of his hips. 

“Hello there,” he teases and you laugh, leaning down to kiss him and bracing your forearms on either side of his head. There is no time wasted on gentle kisses, opting instead for the type that sear as you pant into his mouth and feel his bulge pressed against your bare cunt. You grind against him, the friction from the towel over his cock making you whimper, and one of his hands finds your hip to hold you steady while you make yourself feel good. 

“You like that, baby?”

Humming affirmatively to his question, you drag yourself across his covered length for only a moment more and choose instead to sit up, giving him a full view of all of you. This is a sight he has been blessed with more times than he could begin to count but every time it feels like a gift, your breasts swaying as you steady yourself. His hand slides from your hip to your waist and even higher, thumb and index finger pinching your nipple and making you tilt your head back and moan.

“To think I almost never saw this again,” he mutters to himself but you hear it, leaning forward enough that your face hovers above his. You kiss the side of his jaw and he groans, cock so hard the towel has shortened by several inches while it fights to sit against his stomach as gravity intends for it to.

Kissing further down his jaw and his neck, you rest your face in the crook of his neck for a moment and sigh dreamily. You're already soaked, ready to slip him inside of you at any moment.

“To think I never saw this again,” you repeat back to him and sit up, reaching behind you to unknot his towel and push it off of his hips, looking over your shoulder and groaning at his pretty pink tip resting against his belly, glossy with precum. You look down at him with a slight pout, leaning in to kiss him while running your hands over every inch of his body that you can.

“Look at you, Satoru. You’re so beautiful.”

He’s no stranger to your compliments but he flusters a bit anyway, chest turning pink as his face heats up. His white lashes flutter as he looks down at you, your mouth pressing kisses into his neck and warm chest. You scrape your teeth over his nipples and it makes him whine, bucking his hips and pressing his heavy cock against your pussy.

"Fuck baby," he mutters, hissing when you press your hips down against him, the wetness seeping from you coating your lips and his shaft in return, your hips gliding easily over him. Your mouth remains occupied, pressing kisses lower down his abdomen and over the scars he hasn't yet healed. It's your responsibility to remind him that every single piece of him is as lovable and stunning as ever and you take it seriously.

"I need you."

The rasp in his words makes you smile and you nod, ceasing your kissing and straightening your spine so that you can press your tits against his chest again. There is zero space between your bodies, just how you prefer it. He reaches for his cock and groans, wrapping his fingers around the base, abandoning it to brush his fingers over your wet cunt.

"All that for me," he marvels, two digits sinking into you with ease and you arch your back slightly, letting him spread you open while grinding your hips down against his pelvis, the direct contact of his body on your clit sending sparks through you.

"Just for you, handsome," you smirk against his neck and he crooks his fingers inside of you, brushing the spot he knows drives you wild. You moan and he pulls his fingers out of you, your cunt clenching in protest only for him to immediately replace them with the girth of his cock, your walls stretching to accommodate him.

"Feels so good," you whisper and he hums, hands coming to your hips to keep them steady while he thrusts upward into you slowly, sinking himself to the base methodically, shallow thrusts pulling him nearly out of you.

He's greedy though, undeniably addicted to the way you make him feel, and keeps enough of himself inside of you that you are unable to even begin to miss the way he feels. Your walls clench around him, keeping him secured inside and your hips grind lazily despite his grip on them.

The pleasure is mind numbing but you keep yourself alert, moaning softly while he throbs inside of you. More lazy thrusts met with slow and passionate grinding make you moan on unison, lips finding each other. Moaning into each others mouths, occasionally brushing tongues and kissing, you're overwhelmed with nothing but pure love knowing you have this to look forward to forever.

Forever sounds like a long time but you can't think of any better way to spend it than with your Satoru.

"You gonna cum baby?"

He asks and you nod, your walls gripping him tightly. His thrusts speed up, the sound of skin on skin filling your bedroom. The mind is a powerful tool and despite this being quite possibly the least active sex the two of you have ever had, you're so in love with him your body does what it does naturally and that's cum around his cock, clenching and pulsing to let him know how much all of you loves all of him.

"I love you," you babble against his mouth and he chuckles. "I know baby, I know."

Your hips still and you let him hold you in place, his back arched as he thrusts fully in and out of you, his own release slowly coming over him. His eyes flutter shut and he stays buried inside of you, ropes of his cum filling you and seeping out around the base of him, dripping down onto the towel below him.

You don't say a word, sinking into his chest while he softens inside of you. Talking feels unnecessary when your body itself says so much but the big mouth is back to normal so the blissful silence doesn't last for long.

"I love you too, by the way."

At least he's being sweet.

Giggling, you kiss him and wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, clinging to him while he moves from your mouth to press kisses into your hairline.

"So," he starts and you look up, hovering off of his chest enough to look him in his eyes. "When are we telling everyone that we're married?"

"Let's make it legal first, yeah?"

He pouts but it is replaced quickly with a wry smile and you sink back down to rest against him, cheek pressed into his collarbone. The news surely won't come as a surprise to anyone but you want to make sure it's set in stone before letting everyone know.

"Let's go first thing in the morning."

His eagerness makes you laugh but you acquiesce, knowing there's no excuse to wait. You spent enough time fighting off the inevitable that for once, you're glad to just sit back and enjoy the ride, especially when you're enjoying it by Satoru's side.

[poppitron360]

Hii! Can I ask for some of your more lighthearted (as in not too angsty) Leo Valdez headcanons?

1. CANNOT SIT ON A CHAIR PROPERLY

FOR THE LIFE OF HIM. YOU COULD POINT A GUN TO HIS HEAD AND HE STILL COULDN’T DO IT.

I NEED MORE FANART OF THIS PLEASE

2. Can in theory breathe fire but doesn’t bc it gives him a really bad sore throat.

3. Still reading TOA- I just found out that Leo’s full name is “Leonidas” (either that or it’s a nickname Calypso gave him, but the fandom seem to agree that it’s his real name) but he HATES it when Calypso calls him that, so my hc is ANNABETH is the ONLY one with “Leonidas” privileges. And that’s bc he’s so fucking terrified of her he doesn’t DARE appose her on it. I feel like she does use it respectfully though.

Hazel is also allowed to use it sparingly.

4. Oh yeah fuck canon Leo and Annabeth are besties and they bond over both being runaways and also engineering/architecture stuff. Leo’s DEFINITELY had a peek around Daedalus’ laptop- his design for an automaton that can house a human soul got him thinking about his mom. He always planned on maybe taking a closer look at those files but then the laptop got lost in Tartar Sauce. I know you said no angst. Whoops.

5. Leo and Hazel start a support group for demigods who have come back from the dead. Every Wednesday in New Rome. Biscuits and Orange Juice will be provided. They call themselves the “YOLTers” (You Only Live Twice- because YOLO is for the weak). Thalia is also a frequent attendee.

6. I hc him as hard of hearing after the explosion in Blood of Olympus. Specifically deaf in his right ear and chronic tinnitus in his left. He uses hearing aids sometimes and also uses ASL and Morse Code to communicate. I choose to view that as wholesome bc we need more disability representation.

7. He is a “Leonidas” ONLY at Starbucks. He then follows it up with a bunch of equally hard-to-pronounce middle names (which he completely made up) said in a rapid-fire Spanish accent and watches the Barista panic as her white ass tries to spell it all. It’s even funnier when she tries to say it back to him when giving him his order. He takes the cup (leaves a generous tip) and says “but usually I just go by Leo” and walks away.

That is pretty much my entire understanding of American culture right there-

8. Trains autistic. He loves them. In the one I’m currently reading- The Dark Prophecy- Calypso and Apollo go on a train without Leo and I’m just imagining them getting back and him being “But what kind of train was it? Standard gauge or narrow gauge? Man, I love narrow gauge trains. Did you know that there’s this place in Wales called the Ffestiniog railway, where they have this special type of locomotive where the engine- the sicky-outy bit- is like, either side of the locomotive, so that there’s no need for a turntable-“

Okay I might also love narrow gauge trains (I’ve been on the Ffestiniog railway, it is amazing) (Also that is not a typo, in Welsh I believe the double f makes a soft sound (like in “off”) and a single f makes a hard sound, more like a v (like in “of”) you learn a new thing every day!)

9. Ambidextrous but Left-hand dominant (Often has to specify to his tool belt that he needs left-handed tools)

10. When speaking will put weird pauses in the middle of a sentence and not stop between sentences like talkingreallyfastwhenhe’sreally exited and talking slowly when he’s tiredit’skindaweird and choppy like hisbrainisgoing a million times faster than hismouth.

11. His favourite Disney film is Frozen.

12. When he’s comfortable around you, you start to hear more of his hispanic accent.

13. Said it before, will say it again. Headcannon no. 13 is ALWAYS WITHOUT FAIL “They’re a Swiftie.”

He has to listen to music as a way of not being alone with his thoughts. I discovered Taylor at a young age, and she has remained one of the few consistencies in my life since then. She got me through some tough times (Not as bad as Leo, but she helped me survive 2020). I feel like Leo would be the same- not always knowing where he’ll be sleeping that night or if food will be on the table, he’d want comfort, stability. Taylor would be there.

14. He wakes Frank up at 3am with “Hey I can’t read that what does that say?” “…Leo you wrote this. You’re telling me you can’t read your own writing?” Little does Leo know that Percy came in with exactly the same request half an hour before. Frank is finding being the only non-dyslexic on the ship incredibly frustrating.

15. Has the philosophy “anything is a fidget toy if you fidget with it” and STICKS to it

16. If Piper sees an item of clothing with an ungodsly amount of pockets, she is contractually obligated to buy it for him.

17. Eats cheese straight off the block. Like doesn’t even bother cutting it, he just *noms* straight into the block of cheese like it’s a chocolate bar. Similarly also eats Nutella straight outta the jar, sometimes without even using a spoon (and y’all know he doesn’t wash his hands).

18. Slightly more immune to electric shocks than normal bc of his way with machines (Valgrace nation do with that what you will)- similar to how Percy, as seen in botl, is a little bit fireproof.

19. You can’t tell me that during his first quest with Jason and Piper, they didn’t at least once triple-spoon with Leo in the middle bc he’s warmest.

20. In fact, “Cuddle Leo” is a common pastime for Jasiper. Particularly when it’s cold.

21. HE. CAN. SEW.

I saw a lot of people hc that Leo makes Percabeth’s wedding rings but that is factually incorrect. TYSON makes the ring. LEO makes Annabeth’s dress. I just started this fic where Annabeth, Piper, Leo, Reyna, and Rachel all go wedding dress shopping for Leo to get ideas, but he makes absolutely the most BEAUTIFUL gown for her- much better than any store. It puts all other wedding dresses to shame.

22. He can also knit, crochet (This hc was supplied by my mum who I’ve forced to read Heroes of Olympus), weave, and do macramé. He’s gone down rabbit holes about old-fashioned lacemaking. Him and Annabeth have sewing/crafting competitions at camp and on the Argo.

23. Autistic hand-flappy stim

24. He watches Stand-Up Comedy specials with Jason. I feel like if he wasn’t a mechanic he’d be a comedian (or run a taco truck, like Jason suggested in TLH). He takes his friends to as many comedy shows as he can. He loves them.

25. A Valgrace hc but it relates- while I was thinking up ways for Leo/Jason to propose (just a regular day in my brain), I had an idea for Leo to take Jason to one of those comedy shows that does crowd-work, and sits in the front row to get their attention. When the comedian asks who they are, Leo introduces Jason as his fiancé. When Jason goes, “Wait, no I’m not!” Leo yells “WELL WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE?” And gets down on one knee.

Also, sorry it’s taken me so long to respond. I’ve had this saved to my drafts and I’ve been slowly adding to it every time I get a new headcanon.

[ms-fandomgirl]

BBHG: Japanese Curry (Ch. 1)

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Words: 1,658

Summary: A chance encounter in the Shibuya Train Station leaves you with a sore shoulder and a mysterious bento box. You’re willing to write the incident off and move on, otherwise preoccupied with navigating a new city and a new job, but a bombastic blond, meddling friend, and fate itself seem to have other plans.

Genre: Pro Hero AU, fluff, strangers to lovers, medical setting

Links: Next Chapter | Masterlist | Cross-posted on Ao3!

Japanese Curry - a thick curry with a stew-like consistency, commonly including a protein, sweet onions, carrots, and potatoes. With many variations ranging from regions to households, it has become a staple comfort food in Japan. 

Tokyo was a living, breathing city. Its body was an ever-changing collection of homes, pop-up stands, and skyscrapers, stretching out as far as the eye could see and held together by the sinuous wires of telephone poles and railway tracks. Beautiful, messy, and thriving, it was all thanks to the heart which lay beneath. The pulse, strong and steady despite the city’s nature towards change, thrummed with citizens’ going about their day, carrying life which echoed throughout train stations and ricocheted off neon signs.

Overall, Tokyo was a beast, wild and untamable, especially when compared to your small rural hometown where people moved slowly and time moved even slower.

Descending into the underground railway station too early on a Monday morning, Tokyo definitely felt untamable, but not in a sense of freedom or adventure. Bento clutched in your hands and cross-body bag acting as a shield, you felt more like you were training for battle as you made your way down to the train station platform.

‘A straight ride through Shinagawa and then-’ the train doors opened two minutes early, causing a physical wave of panic to ripple through the crowd of hurried passengers as they pushed onto and off of the platform.

Time slowed, reduced to excruciating seconds as you watched the open doors get farther and farther away. You took a step forward, desperate to make up the difference and scuffed the toe of a stern looking businessman in the process. He retaliated in response, briefcase bumping you just enough to be forceful.

You threw out your arms to stop yourself, but there was nothing to brace against. Already dreading the embarrassment that was sure to follow your complete wipe-out, you gasped as you instead careened into an incredibly hard chest covered by a very soft army green hoodie. The scent of warm caramel and expensive smelling cologne invaded your senses, and for a second, you thought disaster had been avoided. That is, until your bento box, along with his, fell to the ground with a soft thud in the chaos.

“Watch it,” the stranger growled. He bent over, grabbing both bentos and shoving yours into your arms. You began to offer your thanks, but the stranger didn’t care to wait, immediately muscling his way through the crowd until he was lost from your sight.

“What an asshole,” you grumbled. A mother nearby gasped and covered her daughter’s ears. You opened your mouth to apologize, but she had already disappeared as well. Once again, you were left alone with only your bag, bento, and the rush of the train station.

You would like to say that the day got better, but it, in fact, did not.

Arriving at the Tokyo Central Hospital, you began your shift, checking on your assigned patients and tidying up the rooms. Things were normal, easy even, which should have been your first indicator that something was bound to go wrong. People called the ICU: Quirk-Related Injury unit many things, but “normal” and “easy” certainly weren’t among the commonly used phrases. Descriptors such as “crazy” or “a living nightmare” were much more accurate and commonly whispered over the water cooler in the breakroom.

It was right after your mid-morning break that things began to spiral. The springtime air made the general public get out and get active, but this also seemed to be the case for villains as well. One with a particularly destructive quirk had targeted a heavily populated food court, and you suddenly had an influx of patients to care for who got caught up in the crossfire.

In situations like this, time was a blur. You weren’t sure how long you had been working for, but you did know that you had just collected the charts for the last new admittee when Hina, a fellow nurse, dragged you by the arm into the breakroom for a very late lunch.

Walking to the far corner of the room, Hina flopped down into an unyielding plastic chair by the window, digging around in her satchel until she produced a crinkly bag of Tanko octopus chips. She opened the bag facing away from her, shoveling a handful into her mouth and swallowing so quickly you were glad that you knew how to perform the Heimlich.

“I can’t believe you’re still eating those,” you said, taking the seat across from her.

She shrugged her shoulders, giving you a sheepish grin. “They’ve really grown on me!”

You raised an eyebrow and eyed the package, looking at the small image of a hero nervously smiling at the camera. “Before the Suneater commercial, you used to say that you were allergic to octopus whenever we went out so you’d never have to eat it.”

“Well, these are octopus flavored chips, not octopus chips. There’s a difference,” Hina replied, smoothing out the empty package so she could lovingly stare into Suneater’s eyes. You were pretty sure Hina would spontaneously combust if she came within ten feet of the man in question, and you only hoped that you were there with popcorn and a camera if the day ever occurred.

“Yeah,” you snorted, “the difference is that you’re a simp.”

Unwrapping the pastel orange cloth from your own bento, you nearly missed the box as you went to grab your first bite, otherwise preoccupied with watching yet another hero interview that Hina was showing you: Suneater and Lemillion Answer Google’s Most Popular Searched Questions. You had been experimenting with your family’s curry recipe last night, and it was the best one yet: undeniably spicy, but with a soothing sweetness that came from adding in a dash of local honey. As expected, your tastebuds were immediately assaulted by the sting of spice. However, instead of dying out, the burn grew and grew, until your tongue began to go numb with the heat.

“Hey!” you spluttered, immediately looking for any type of liquid that would offer relief. “This isn’t my lunch!”

Reaching across the table, you grabbed Hina’s grape Ramune, downing half of it in two gulps. Unfortunately, the added combination of the carbonation and spice made everything worse, your face beginning to turn red from your uncontrollable coughing. A hand holding a small paper cup of water appeared in your periphery, and you gratefully looked up at Hina, your savior. Grabbing the cup, you let out a breath of relief as you drank, the water feeling like heaven as it slid down your throat. Eventually, the spice dissipated and you were left with residual tears in your eyes and embarrassment causing you to sink low in your chair. Although collapsing in a room full of doctors wouldn’t have been the worst-case scenario, you knew that you’d never hear the end of it. 

“What was that all about? I thought you said that you had almost perfected your recipe?” Hina asked.

You grabbed a bit of curry covered vegetable, glaring as you inspected it closely. “My curry recipe is almost perfect. But this isn’t my curry at all.”

“Look,” you said, waving around the vegetable in question, “I don’t even like squash.”

You continued to pick at the curry, separating the vegetables into somewhat identifiable piles while Hina looked deep in thought.

“Did someone here try to prank you?” she asked. “I know there was that prank war that happened in PT and Recovery, but targeting your lunch seems like a harsh way to start things off.”

“I don’t know.” Of course this would happen to you. First with the influx of patients, and then this morning with the train station– “It was that guy!” you yelled, slamming your chopsticks on the table. Hina jumped, clutching her drink to her chest and looking at you with wide eyes.

“I almost wiped out in the train station this morning, but some good-smelling asshole caught me and handed me back my bento after I had dropped it. I guess he accidentally gave me his, though.”  

At this news, Hina looked at both you and your bento with a curiosity that you knew all too well. It was the glint in her eye that she got when she discovered a new TV show or Suneater interview - an omen of mischief and oncoming obsession - and it was now directed at you.

“Oh?” she asked, trying her best to give you an innocent smile. You knew better, waving off her batting eyelashes. “A meet-cute in the train station?” 

You groaned but made no attempt to dissuade her. Any denial was proof at this point. “More like a meet-fight. That guy was rude as hell.”

“I don’t know, this could be the beginning of your enemies-to-lovers arc,” Hina teased, giving you an exaggerated wink that sent the both of you into a fit of giggles.

“You read too many romance books.” You tried to sound annoyed, but the facade crumbled when she stuck her tongue out at you.

Jumping at the chance, Hina began to regale you about her latest purchase at the bookstore down the street. You continued to pick at the bento before you, figuring that spicy food was better than no food and now stubbornly determined to finish despite the heat. There was no way you were losing to some stranger’s Japanese curry.

One intercom announcement later, and you and Hina were pulled back into work, idle fantasies and what-ifs lost to the very real needs of your job. By the end of the day, the only memories of the morning were rinsed down the drain and stacked neatly on the drying rack. After all, Tokyo was one of the biggest cities in the world. The only way you would meet the good-smelling asshole again would be through an act of fate itself. 

A/N: Thanks so much for joining me on this journey of posting my first multi-chapter story! Technically, Violet Petrichor has two chapters, but since it is only an epilogue, I don't count it like I do this one. Also, I would like to caveat this whole fic by saying that I am not in the medical field at all, so if something is terribly inaccurate, I'm sorry.

I currently have a plan to post once a week every Friday!

As always, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated, but please do not repost here or on other platforms. However, fan arts, edits, or anything like that are beyond amazing and totally welcome! If you have a question about it, just ask me.

Tag List: @lavender99, @gold24fish, @bqkuho3, @satorulicious

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments! Also, if the tag list DIDN'T work, please let me know as well. I've never done one before, so I'm not sure I did it right.

[lou-struck]

Coming Home

Izuku Midoriya x reader

~Izuku has worked three days straight on a rescue mission and you are ready for your hero to come home.

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: Mentions of injury, rescue missions gone awry, loneliness, overworking, mutual apologizing for something out of their control, a bit of angst but with a happy ending.

*reposting because when I post on mobile the tags don't work.

You have never felt so aware of the sound of your own knife scratching across your glass plate. The screeching scrape fills your empty home as you try to eat the meal you had just cooked, only to feel your appetite being robbed by the deep-set feeling of worry in your gut.

Your eyes flick between the empty place setting across from your own and the front door, hoping, praying that Izuku will come home safe tonight.

This nightmare had begun three days ago in the small hours of the morning when a group of villains managed to board and hijack a small underground train line filled with commuting passengers.

The railways have been shut down completely, and you heard through the grapevine that the Villains are beginning to panic, disagreeing amongst themselves about what they should be asking for as a ransom for all the lives in their possession. 

With Law Enforcement at a standstill, they called in the Pro's Izuku, being chosen as one of the country's top heroes, to go underground, infiltrate the stopped train, and put an end to this whole nightmare.

Before leaving, he had told you that this mission was supposed to only take a few hours and that he promised to be home for dinner, but that wasn't the case. The villains chose to stop the train in a dead cell zone meaning that the rescue team has no service in the tunnels. You haven't heard anything from Izuku since that morning. You were assured that he was still safe, but the mission has taken much longer than normal.

The media is also in the dark about what is going on, and they keep playing the same initial cell phone footage that one of the passengers took before the train was stopped, along with a few interviews from the hostage's loved ones.

It's maddening.

And so the television remains off.

With a heavy sigh, you get up from your place at the table and stare at the mess awaiting you. Unable to keep the food warm any longer, you began to put it away carefully. It looks like Izuku won't be home anytime soon. 

Before you put everything away, you take out a special Tupperware container. One that has multiple compartments for each of the dishes that you made tonight.

If Izuku comes home in the middle of the night, he will have a full home-cooked meal waiting for him. With his meal boxed up, you place the container on top of the other two in the fridge. The untouched, multicolored lids only make you feel more lonely.

It doesn't seem fair to rest while Izuku is working overtime, doing god knows what. Although the details make you sick to your stomach, you have to check for updates.

Plopping down on the couch, you turn on the television to check the broadcast, hoping for new footage, a progress report, anything.

But the broadcast has stopped completely, which can only mean one thing. The mission has ended. 

Izuku is coming home.

These last three days of radio silence have placed a heavy weight on your chest. And with the initial disaster dealt with, you feel a bit lighter, but it won't be fully lifted until you can stare into Izuku's loving green eyes and hold him close.

~

You've been watching the driveway for what seems like forever, but you don't see him pull up. Only the headlights of a few passing vehicles mock you. 

Until you hear the sound of the front door opening curiously, you walk towards the sound. Even in low lighting, you are able to make out the familiar figure leaving up against the doorway. 

"Honey, I'm home," he calls, stumbling through the door. He looks exhausted, his skin looks sickly pale and deep dark circles rest under his eyes, and various scrapes and scratches litter his arms.

"Zuku?" you ask, stepping towards him cautiously, "Are you hurt."

He reaches forward and envelops you in a hug, "M' okay," he says, "just wanted to see you."

His tired words make your heart flutter, and you run your fingers through his messy green hair, gently untangling a few strands. "How long has it been since you've gotten to rest, Zuku?"

"I dunno, 3 days?' he hums; you notice how limp his body is on top of you. "The agency wouldn't let me drive home, so I had to call a cab."

"After 72 hours, I wouldn't let you drive either." You say, brow furrowing in concern. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

You try to turn towards the bedroom, but he stops you stubbornly. "No, I can't stop now," he murmurs into the crook of your neck, his figure sways tiredly. "I have people to rescue."

"Shhh, they're safe." you soothe, "you saved them; let's get some rest."

He nods, and you help him to the room. His lids flutter sleepily as he sits down on the mattress. But he doesn't take his eyes off you for a second. He hardly has enough strength to sit when you try to let go of his hand to grab a sleep shirt for him. His grip tightens protectively. "Where are you going?" 

"I'm just grabbing you something soft to change into Zuku," you answer, shaking off his grip.

"Oh, you're so smart, y/n." he chuckles tiredly. "I've missed you. Did you know that?"

You toss the shirt over to him for him to put on. "I've missed you too," You wouldn't dare tell him this when he is in this kind of deliriously tired state, but his hero suit reeks, and the sooner he gets it off, the better. 

You watch as he unzips his suit and tosses it on the ground; although the look of his chiseled chest and abs usually are breathtaking, now you cannot take your eyes off of the deep bruises and scrapes from under the suit. You feel uneasy looking at the marks, but you can't look away, even after they have been covered up by the clean sleep shirt. 

He notices this, and his face falls suddenly. He looks guilty. "The mission… didn't quite go as planned," he mumbles, smoothing out a wrinkle in his shirt self-consciously.

"I know," you say, noticing just how small your voice sounds. "You helped a lot of people though, Zuku." You sit down on the edge of the bed as he does the same.

"Still," he sighs, leaning back onto the sheets, not trusting himself to look at you. "I know I let you down, and I worried you. I don't like making you feel this way."

His words make your eyes turn glassy, and you let out a shaky breath to hide the choked sob that threatens to escape your lips. Your relationship isn't rocky or anything, but Izuku hates to let you down. The whole situation is weighing on him much more than you had thought. 

You scoot much closer to his side of the bed and grab his hand. "Hey, look at me. Please?" you murmur. He turns his head, and you see that his eyes look just as teary as yours must be. "You're a hero; things like this happen," you say, giving him the most comforting smile you can muster. "I just worried about you."

"But I want to be a Hero for you, too," he mumbles, raising the back of your hand to his lips and kissing it softly. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to tell you what was going on. I wanted to more than anything, but I- I couldn't." He looks so tired, but he is using the last bit of his energy to stay awake, to stay present for you. He has the biggest heart.

"I know," you say, "And we can spend these next few days taking it easy together. But for now, you need to get some rest, Izuku."

"A-are you sure?"

"I'm positive," you smile, curling up next to him. As soon as he lays back fully on the pillow, he is out, and the soft sounds of his breathing fills the room. Even in sleep, he pulls you closer; the weight of his arms around you is so comforting; you feel in that moment that nothing can hurt you. 

Because he is here.

[meanscarletdeceiver]

was rereading some of your Ao3 work and had a thought, if Nobby, or any preserved engine for that matter went the way of "passing on" i.e the face fading away as mentioned in "Departure", do you reckon they'd be kept around, or would they be scrapped? I'm not majorly active on Tumblr so apologises if this has been answered somewhere that I've missed, but I was curious.

That's an interesting question (though repeats are fine, dw)! My fics are never necessarily in the same universe unless noted, and for the Nobbyverse in particular I really did remake my mental image of the TTTE world from the ground up - I've never considered 'departure' in the context of that series (excepting only that I supposed poor 115's spirit would have passed on after being buried and abandoned) - so for me this is a new angle to examine.

And I'm cackling a little up my sleeve, because this actually sounds like a great plot set-up… if you own a preserved engine and its spirit has 'passes on,' you've probably fucked up, and very publicly too.

A preserved engine whose animation faded away would lose a great deal of its appeal for the public. I generally suppose that engine sapience has become rarer and rarer over the years of mass-production and cheap-ass maintenance, so in-universe part of the glamour associated with 'the old days' is that people yearn for the times when trains were alive. You go to a transport museum in part to show your kids what a talking vehicle is like because most kids don't meet them anywhere else.

Furthermore, although the general public could certainly get used to visiting 'dead' engines, just like seeing dinosaur skeletons... they aren't used to it because unalive preserved engines are almost unheard-of. Engine spirits 'depart', not out of any old unhappiness but specifically because they believe that they are no longer needed in this world. An engine who knows that they are being preserved for posterity is wildly unlikely to believe that.

But I'm sure it happens, especially for the sort of engines sitting in storage for years on end, waiting for some sort of overhaul or opportunity. However even in those cases it really doesn't take that much care to avoid a 'departure' - machines are like camels when it comes to attention! They are hugely inclined to err on the side of believing they matter to humans. So long as someone visits them regularly with assurance and keeps 'em clean and dry, they are capable of waiting in readiness for quite a long time.

So the norm is that engines are preserved alive and stay alive. Any 'departure' is so abnormal that rail enthusiasts would be pissed. Questions Will Be Asked. Either some heads or gonna roll, or the owning institution's name is going to be mud among railfans.

Thus, if I'm in charge of the York Railway Museum and my staff reports one morning that Coppernob's soul seems to have 'passed on' in the night, I'm gonna be in panic mode.

Which, even as I type this and you read it, we both know means that Nobby has definitely faked them out at some point or another.

If an engine has really 'departed,' however, I expect they're immediately tarp'd ("she's, errm - she's having a nap! 🙃 ") and moved into storage a.s.a.p., where either attempts are made to coax their spirit back, or else the owners hope that the public eventually forgets about them. There are still people who would be interested even in the lifeless body, but too bad for them, they will have a hell of a time ever seeing it now because things will usually be so lock-and-key.

And that brings us to Boxhill, maybe… (? 🤔)

[bruhstation]

what playing god does to TWO mfs (explanation of their characters and relationship in act 1 under readmore)

at the start of casa tidmouth (tatmr), d10 is on this relentless quest on capturing lady. the reason of this is because he’s morbidly curious on what would happen if a mere human like him get into contact with gold dust. at that time, lady was putting on a disguise of a normal human working as a newbie in the northwestern railway, and d10 managed to figure out that she’s the lady of the legend thanks to various tales of her and the sodor’s rumours bulletin board. also because he eavesdropped on thomas and percy who wanted to help her look for gold dust resources.

throughout the beginning until mid of act 1, d10 plays this role of a saturday morning cartoon villain. every time he encounters the adventure trio, he always tries to thwart their plans using his 200 iq brain and rube goldberg machines (and incredibly incompetent dieselworks minions), though he always ends up failing.

another thing is that lady wasn’t really threatened by him. whenever d10 recites his essay on how he’ll capture lady, she would just smile and cheerfully respond to his genius plans. lady also perceives emotions and morality much differently compared to humans. she always believes that there’s a way out of every situation because... she’s a god! she has gold dust (albeit only a bit)! she’s not being mean or looking down on d10 or humans as a whole. it’s just the way she is. when humans panic over an injury, she nonchalantly believed it can be healed. when humans experience grief, she believed they’ll get over it soon. this is also because she never experienced companionship prior to arriving to sodor, so she had NO idea how to emotionally connect to others or understand how others feel. she just knows that her duty as the goddess of sodor is to help humans physically, not emotionally.

unfortunately d10 thought she’s looking down on him and always strives to improve his machines and plans to capture her. lady just plays along because she thought it’ll be fun to entertain a mere human like him. there are times where d10 managed to capture her (lady is still unfazed and goes along. she knew he’ll always fail) but as days and weeks progress, d10 slowly started to feel like his actions isn’t rooted in malice but rather because he just... wanted to do it. d10 felt uncomfortable about this relation because he had always thought of himself as this irredeemable, unstoppable force and is never bothered about it. he constantly wavered on his ideals whenever he thought of doing something nice for a change and always forced himself to think of himself as this tough, crazy maniac who’s a big evil genius to ground himself.

the days where d10 and lady didn’t have their one-sided rivalry, lady would just tease d10, tell him to relax his shoulders, and basically annoy him. it eventually evolved into days where they would have small talk about random things, like d10′s rube goldberg machines and lady’s godlike characteristics. lady thought that his machines are genuinely cool and awesome, something that he’s never heard anyone say before. d10 mentioned things about his fascination with gold dust and wanting to know more about its wonders or if it has any side effects... a goddess that learns about science, and an engineer that is interested in how magic works.

even though in their earlier interactions d10 always instigated first, it was always thomas that gave d10 the push he “needed” to kickstart his daily villainy shenanigans by exclaiming out loud something along the lines of “look! diesel 10!’s back!!!!”. so when he’s not present, d10 can’t bring himself to do..... mean bad toughguy things.

d10 initially thought that lady was sent by thomas to spy on his activities, but many convincing words from her proved otherwise. lady finally became honest on how she views humans and said that she found it hard to emotionally connect with others. her role as a god wasn’t to be worshiped, but to be relied on. strangely, d10 related to her. he always believed that there’s nothing science can’t answer. as long as he can use others using his knowledge and sheer willpower, he can achieve whatever he wants and quench any curiosity his brain comes up with. he pushed others away and others pushed him away because of his low sympathy and thought process that is considered “abnormal”. for the first time, lady truly understood the feelings of a human. d10 always takes his leave right before thomas arrives, though. he doesn’t want to make things complicated, but for the first time, he unconsciously felt like caring about someone else besides him.

seems like there’s a lot of things lady and d10 share in common.

and just like that, a friendship between them formed. lady is still her unwavering, cheerful self, but she began to think about her own feelings more rather than let others slide. d10 is still his maniacal, crazy engineer self, but he started to think about wanting to use his genius brain for something sliiightly less destructive. rebuilding the dieselworks, perhaps? one can only imagine. he still thought his machines were awesome, though, and he doesn’t think he can become a 100% good guy. d10 is the first person that made lady experience more “human-like” emotions, while lady is the first person that wasn’t scared of d10 and paid more attention at how intricate his machines are instead of how much they’re safety hazards.

things were starting to look good!

and then the first part of the dotd arc arrived.

[duskstargazer]

[1968]

Most engines on the Fat Controller’s railway get along fairly well in spite of their differences. Most times, they’re able to put any issues they may have with one another aside and work towards a common goal. “Most engines” does not, unfortunately, include Murdoch and Bear.

“FIFTEEN MINUTES!!” Bear roared. “You held me up for fifteen minutes! And who do you suppose caught the blame for those seven milk tankers having gone off?”

“And what would you have had me do?” Murdoch retorted. “There were live sheep on the line, I couldn’t just move forward, I might have run some over!”

“Perhaps blown your whistle? What do you have it for, if not to make your presence known - as you seem to love to do."

“If I had blown my whistle,” Murdoch seethed through clenched teeth, “it would have only made them panic. Believe me, I would have loved to have blown smoke and forced them to move, but that simply wasn’t an option!”

A small group of engines watched the shouting match unfold, with mostly unanimous responses.

“What’re they arguing about tonight?” Charlie asked as she pulled in.

“Bear’s blaming Murdoch for delaying his train, and Murdoch’s blaming sheep.” Molly sighed, bedraggled as though she hadn’t slept for weeks. “Or… something.”

“And just last week, Murdoch was accusing Bear of leaving oil on the main line. And you know Bear took that one personally.” Almond added. He knew Charlie was keeping score of these things.

“So that’s five arguments incited by Murdoch, and three incited by Bear this month.” Charlie murmured.

“…”

“We’re a little over halfway through the month.” Molly sighed.

“I need a drink.” Almond groaned.

Rebecca pulled in a moment later. She made to take on water just outside the shed, but when she heard the raised voices, and Murdoch caught her glance and sent a glare her way, the big yellow engine quickly decided that the tower near Tidmouth Sheds would be a far better choice.

[putuponpercy]

I need the episode where Edward spins a tale of a misbehaving engine that was so down right disobedient that after countless lectures and warnings fell on deaf ears its controller sent it away to have its smokebox door replaced and when it came back it had not only different personality but also a completely different face - like they're a different engine entirely and the one before that is gone.

And after Edward falls asleep the others joke and argue over whether there's any truth to it which - pah - of course there isn't right? Right?

A crash happens days later. There's damage. A lot of damage. There's whispers about needing a new smokebox door. Mass panic ensues. The railway's in shambles. Confusion from the left, delay from the right, disgruntled passengers forefront and center, and a very confused Fat Controller at the back wondering what has gotten into everybody because where are his engines?

Eventually one or several of them in panic ask the Fat Controller to try and repair the injured door rather than replace it because they don't want their friend to disappear which leaves him even more confused until Edward laughs and comes clean that he made the whole thing up and at that moment the injured engine comes back completely fine brand sparkling new smokebox door and all.