#Modest cube

[vellichorom]

Can Thierry kill ME with a boxcutter next. If I ask nicely

perhaps... but he would kill you in the strange & disturbing way only a kevan brighting parody tweet could illustrate

[seoafin]

dog days are over | chapter one

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags (for this chapter): none, but please heed overall fic warnings word count: ~3.2k

fic masterlist read on ao3

“Suguru…you’re getting married?”

Your eyes are wide as you examine Suguru in a new light.

Marriage…that’s…that’s a big step isn’t it? Already? Do people get married at twenty-two nowadays? You aren’t sure. In fact, you don’t really know what people your age do. But you’re sure that whatever Suguru decides, you will support him fully. Even if he desires to get married at the early age of twenty-two. Who are you to come in the way of Suguru's apparent desire to get married?

Suguru doesn’t even blink at your words. “Of course not,” he replies smoothly, expertly dicing carrots into small cubes on the cutting board. He finishes, puts the knife down, and looks at you reassuringly. “It was just a matter of propriety. I couldn’t just leave that girl waiting for hours on end for Satoru, now could I?”

You shake your head, smiling back. Of course he would. Because Suguru is a good person who would keep a girl company at a matchmaking ceremony that Satoru either refused to show up to or forgot. You aren’t surprised to hear it. Both the fact that Suguru spent his afternoon entertaining her, and that Satoru had neglected to go to it in the first place, or even mention it to you.

Marriage…

You think of white dresses, veils, shiromukus. Endless white fabrics. Black kimonos. Cups of Sake. You think of temples, the reception, the planning. All the different options for catering and flowers and wedding invitations. Your head spins. Weddings. Marriage. Abstract concepts to you. Foreign in their conventionality. You’ve never had the luxury of dwelling too long of what a hypothetical wedding would entail. You had no use for it, really. Though you did occasionally think about how Shoko would look on her wedding day. 

Suguru is calling your name.

You blink, regaining the smile on your lips, hoping he didn’t ask you a question you had not heard. “Y-yes?”

“Just keeping you with me,” he hums, getting started on the mushrooms and potatoes. “What were you thinking about?”

“Weddings are complicated,” you say seriously. But then you think of Shoko in a wedding dress, Suguru and Satoru in black kimonos, and decide that Shoko would make a lovely bride just as Satoru and Suguru would make lovely grooms. “I hope I get to see all of you married one day.”

Though the thought of Shoko getting married disturbs you. You think of seeing her even less than you usually do and frown. Twenty-two really is a bit too young, isn’t it? She hasn’t even finished medical school yet! You force yourself away from your thoughts, regarding Suguru brightly.

“What did the two of you talk about?” You ask eagerly. 

An amused glint flickers in his dark gaze. Almost teasingly. “Flowers.”

“Flowers?”

“Flowers.”

The girl had invited Suguru to see the sprawling garden at her estate and the special lotuses she tended to daily. He politely declined. You are slightly disappointed at this. You think of Satoru and Suguru’s wedding. You think of a faceless third, a potential bride that could handle Satoru and Suguru’s tempestuous natures. A calming, dignified force. You think she’ll be beautiful, befitting the two of them. 

“Was she pretty?”

Suguru stops, knife pressed to the cutting board, mushroom split in two. He lifts his gaze, returning to your expectant gaze with an unreadable one before his expression softens. “I suppose.”

You stare at him. He…supposes? Just what is that supposed to mean? Some new cryptic way of conveying his interest? Maybe he’s embarrassed. Maybe he doesn’t want to admit it.

The amused smile returns to his lips. “I was just a temporary fill in for Satoru, nothing more.”

He resumes cutting. Finishes. Heats up oil in a large pot and pushes the vegetables into it with a knife.

He’s too modest. You’re sure he’s downplaying himself. She had invited him to her estate for a second meet, hadn’t she? You guess Satoru and Suguru and yes, even Shoko are at an age most would consider eligible for marriage. They’ll get married soon, embark on the next adventure of their lives and you’ll…

You’ll be content.

“Have you thought about it?” He asks nonchalantly. “Marriage?”

You falter, a lapse in your thoughts at Suguru’s inquiring gaze. “Not at all,” you say truthfully. “I can’t even imagine it.” Someone loving you? The thought of someone finding something worthwhile in you makes you feel greatly disturbed when you decided long ago that romantic endeavors were useless in your case. But even that line of thinking is arrogant of you. Nobody has ever shown interest in you in the twenty-one years you’ve been alive, and you are sure that even the slightest interest in you would only end with disappointment.

There is something fundamentally wrong with you. You would rather the vulnerable truth of it all not be laid bare and dissected by a scorned lover you disappointed in some way, because you had not been able to live up to the expected standards of romantic love. You would say something wrong, do something wrong. You wouldn’t understand. You don't think you'd be recover, and even the thought of it makes you feel vaguely ill.

You’re not naive. You know that love doesn’t have to be a factor in marriage, but if marriage was a necessity, then what was wrong with hoping for love, romance, passion? You’ve seen the well bred women of jujutsu society, the ones whose last names hold importance on some level, cultivated for the singular purpose of being a wife, a mother, sheltered away in their estates awaiting the inevitable. You think these girls deserve far more respect for being able to flawlessly navigate jujutsu society than you do, as a working jujutsu sorcerer. 

You also think you want better for Satoru. You think he deserves love and everything else he’s found in Suguru. You’re happy for him. For Suguru. Because even someone like you knows how rare it is to find what the two of them have.

You exhale. “But nothing’s expected of me anyway." You've never even been kissed. "I don’t have a lover, or even parents. I’m nobody important. But you, Satoru, and Shoko…" A self deprecating smile. "It seems that I’ll have to learn to live without you guys soon.” You’d be lonely. But you at least had Megumi and Tsumiki, and even Mimiko and Nanako. You were sure they’d still need you for a few more years. And then…

You’ve never thought about the future. Not to this extent. You’re unsure of what your life would be without Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko. You’re unsure if you’d even exist. 

As long as you’re alive, you’d persist. Somehow. And if you died along the way, well. You suppose you wouldn’t have to put too much thought into the future then, would you?

You must look troubled. Suguru clears his throat. You look up, just as the smell of curry fills your nose. 

He lifts up an inviting spoonful of curry. “For you.”

It takes you a few seconds to completely pull out of your thoughts, and to register the spoon in his grip. You learn forward automatically, mumble ‘thank you for the food,’ and eat his offering. The curry is delicious, savory with a sweet note that can’t just be attributed to the apples you had seen him blending before to mix into the sauce. Your gaze drops to an opened packet on the counter.

“Dark chocolate?”

“A tip I got from some of the housewives in the complex,” Suguru replies, satisfied with your response. “They said that it’d add an additional note of flavor. I’m guessing it worked…?”

You nod vigorously. “It’s delicious!”

Of course Suguru’s made good with the housewives in the fancy apartment complex the two of them live in with the kids. Suguru wanted a big kitchen. Satoru wanted a view. The penthouse seemed to both their tastes.

It’s a lovely apartment, with a large sprawling living room that includes ceiling high bookshelves, an open kitchen with a long island, and stairs that spiral to a second floor. Accommodating two adults, four kids and more, easily. It brings a smile to your face to see traces of Satoru and Suguru, and all the kids all over the apartment. You’re sure the confetti and colored paper scraps on top of the kotatsu are from Mimiko and Nanako and Tsumiki. Some school project that involved copious amounts of glue and glitter. There’s a book you bought for Megumi on the couch. Just as the bookshelves are full of Suguru’s own books. The big jar of sugar in one of the upper cabinets of the kitchen (far away from the kids’ reach) is Satoru’s. To add into his cereal, tea and anything else accommodating his usual sugary diet. There’s an identical jar back at your apartment. Satoru’s sugar jar.

To Satoru and Suguru and the girls, Megumi, and Tsumiki, it’s home.

Suguru’s eyes crease with the curve of his lips, pleased. “I’m glad you like it.” 

“Everyone’s going to love it.” Especially the twins, you think. Chocolate in their curry seemed to be exactly the kind of thing they’d delight at, in the small bursts of childlike wonder they rediscovered after Suguru rescued them. They followed after Satoru with their sweet tooths. However, after Nanako had been found with a cavity, Suguru had been forced to put a hard limit on their sugar intake, much to their disappointment.

Suguru gives the curry a stir, almost absentmindedly, as if he’s pondering something.

“I think about it,” he says, after a small silence. “Getting married.”

Oh.

Of course Suguru has thought about marriage. What, with all the marriage talks and matchmaking ceremonies and lovely elegant women in their pretty kimonos, who probably knew all the perfect ways to serve tea and facilitate conversation in all matters of talk. Suguru would make a perfect husband. Anybody would be lucky to marry Suguru. Charming and kind and handsome. 

You’ve begun to formulate a question about whether or not anyone’s caught his or Satoru’s eye, when you hear a thundering of footsteps. 

“We’re backkkkkkk!” Nanako hollers, rushing into the open living space, pulling Mimiko along with her. “Papa, are you making curry? It smells good!”

Mimiko nods her agreement, tugging on Suguru’s apron. Suguru greets them with a smile, untying his apron and pulling her up into his arms, just Satoru strolls into the room, Tsumiki at his side, Megumi trailing a few steps behind them.

“I’m starved!” Satoru announces, peering over the stovetop at the boiling curry. When a hand sneaks for a piece of chocolate, Suguru slaps his hand away. 

Suguru takes the chocolate away and puts it into a drawer as Satoru gawks. “It’s not the kind you’d like anyway.”

“Tsumiki, Megumi,” you start. “How’s school?”

You have regrettably not been able to visit as much as you wish you could. Your studies kept you busy. Your missions kept you out of Tokyo. You hope your absence isn’t missed too much. You read that children should grow up in stable environments. Your schedule was the last thing from stable.

Tsumiki beams. “I’ve got a part in the school play. We’re putting on Hachikazuki-hime!”

You make a mental note to grab the date from Satoru so you can clear your schedule. Tsumiki would be graduating elementary school soon. Already onto middle school. Children grow up so quickly. You’d have to take as many pictures as you could to compile an elementary school picture book for all the kids.

“Is that why you guys were all at the school so late?”

She nods. “Ah, and Megumi hasn’t gotten into a fight in a month,” she says excitedly. “It’s a record!”

The aforementioned boy makes a face. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

You grin, ruffling the boy’s hair. “That is a record!” Satoru had taken care of an incident a month ago in which you had been called to the school over an altercation between Megumi and another male student. You hadn’t been able to make it. You didn’t ask what Satoru had done, but you have a suspicious inkling that it had been waved away with a twirl of Satoru’s trusty black card.

You catch a glimpse of the clock above the refrigerator and balk. You snatch up your bag from the floor and wrap Tsumiki and Megumi in your arms and squeeze.

“I have to go now! I’ll see you guys later.”

“You’re not staying for dinner?” Mimiko asks quietly, peering up at you through her black bangs.

A sheepish breath escapes you. “I have a lot of homework, unfortunately.” You’d get takeout from that new tempura restaurant that opened up a couple of blocks away from your apartment. Then it was back to the books for you.

Satoru frowns. “You can’t stay an hour?”

Nanako and Mimiko and even Tsumiki voice their agreement.

Even Suguru looks displeased. Though you suppose it’s your fault. It had been your intention to stay until…

Suguru wanted to get married. He was thinking of marriage. With Satoru, with some other faceless bride to be. All three of them. You had said it yourself, hadn’t you? You’d have to learn to live without them. 

All of this is just temporary. 

You turn to the kids. “Why don’t you guys wash up for dinner?”

One by one, they shuffle off to their rooms. Megumi gives you an inquiring stare, but you wave him off.

“I’ve got a lot more work than I thought…” you trail off underneath their twin scrutiny. “I think it’d be best for me to go home for today.”

“Home,” Satoru repeats. His lips twist, effectively staunching all the words that would undoubtedly tell you exactly what he thinks about your decaying one bedroom apartment that had become your home after you graduated. You were untethered after graduation. While it was an occasion, jujutsu tech had been your home for better or worse for four years. It was the first place you had truly thought of as a home. And to leave it…

Yaga had offered you your room on campus, if you wanted to stay. But it didn’t seem right. Not without Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko. You found your apartment off a flyer attached to a pinboard while at a public library. Shoko had visited the apartment with you, negotiated rent down with the landlord, and the lease had been signed with little fanfare. It was small enough that you wouldn’t feel too lonely. Big windows overlooking a courtyard in the back. She hadn’t been thrilled about it (Satoru and Suguru even less so), but it was clean with a well worn floor and chips in the wall adjacent to the kitchen from what you presumed was to measure a child’s height. It endeared you to the apartment immediately.

Your landlord had informed you that a single mother had lived in your apartment before vacating it. You thought that there must have been love in your apartment once. So much love that a child could grow up happily scribbling away on the same walls you woke up to everyday. Maybe, somehow, this love would make you feel less lonely.

Your apartment was home. 

“Then let me pack you—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” You say hurriedly, backing towards the foyer. “I’d hate to trouble you. I have food at home.”

“I’ll walk you.” Satoru says, grabbing his jacket off the counter.

“I’ll take a taxi from the lobby.” You refuse. You can’t hide your smile, touched by their concern. “You should all eat. As a family.”

Suguru stares at you, the weight of his dark gaze making your skin prickle. It makes you feel as if you’ve said something wrong.

“At least make Ijichi drive you home,” Satoru says, exasperated, gesturing to the ceiling length windows that detail the darkness that has set over Tokyo. “It’s dark out.”

You blink in disbelief. “Satoru…” He cocks his head to the side. “Are you still using Ijichi as your personal chauffeur…?”

“...”

You turn to Suguru who seems to suddenly find the potted flowers resting by the window interesting.

Your mouth drops. “Not you too, Suguru! For the last time, you two can’t make Ijichi drop everything he’s doing to drive you through Tokyo!”

You sigh, shaking your head. These two. You feel sympathy towards Ijichi’s plight. Maybe that was why he had looked so withered the other day while you had visited Shoko in the morgue at Jujustu tech. Shoko had made a joke about watering him like you’d water a plant. You, however, could not find the humor in the situation when your kouhai had truly looked to be in need of water. And sleep. And food.

Maybe you could treat him for a meal one of these days…

“Does Ijichi like yakitori…?” You wonder out loud.

“I wouldn’t know.” Suguru says lightly, despite the peeved expression on his face. You can tell that Suguru, really, could not care less about Ijichi’s tastes.

“I don’t care about that man,” Satoru deadpans. “Why are you talking about Ijichi right now?”

You are unimpressed by their responses. “Anyway,” you sigh out. “I’ll be going now.”

“I’m coming—”

“No you aren’t,” you’re already halfway out the door. “Eat Suguru’s delicious curry,” you tell them both. “Tell the kids I love them. Goodnight.”

You don’t take a taxi. You walk fifty minutes to your apartment in the brisk winter in an effort to clear your mind. It doesn’t work. Suguru wants to get married. Satoru too, maybe, despite his efforts to avoid all the matchmaking ceremonies and invitations to go back to the Gojo estate for more lectures on the importance of continuing the Gojo line with an heir. In the end if Suguru wanted it, Satoru would end up wanting it too, as that was the nature of things. The two of them reconfiguring themselves around the other, always in tandem. A girl would catch Satoru’s eye, or Suguru’s, or maybe both of their attentions. And if she made them happy, you would be happy.

It wasn’t as if Suguru and Satoru didn’t have prospects. There was no shortage of girls who would gladly offer themselves. They didn’t need any help in that aspect. Besides, you are sure you’d be of absolutely no help in matchmaking. You always found it difficult to talk to pretty women. Your mouth never quite worked right. They always smelled nice too…

What you can do…

You can keep your distance. Slowly disengage yourself from the tangle of their lives. You’d be relegated to watching from the sidelines. You’d be content. Maybe you could keep Shoko to yourself for a little bit longer. To your knowledge, she had no intention of getting married. You hoped. Yet anyway. 

You jam your keys into the door of your apartment, slightly lifting the weight of the door up and jiggling the keys to the right. When you walk into your apartment, you set down your bag. You had forgotten about the takeout. There’s no food in your apartment except for a rotting carrot in the fridge that you throw out, and Satoru’s big jar of sugar on the island. 

Oh well, you didn’t have to eat. There's old tea in your cabinet. You ready the kettle. As you wait for the water to heat, you look out the window and think the apartment feels especially big tonight.

[hurgablurg]

Minecraft 2d animated (with rotoscoped / painted-over in-game backgrounds) movie plot where it doesnt feel the need to do the player's batman origin and instead starts in media res with

A trio of piglin children, let's call them lapis, lavender, and daisy (ego, id, superego / whatever trio trope you want to use), playing around an inactive, old portal frame in the nether, running home only to find their settlement being destroyed by territorial ghasts, their families nowhere to be seen - these are our focus characters, and the audience surrogates. A ghast catches sight of them and gives chase, firebombing the area behind until they run into the portal frame again and a fireball activates it - with no other choice, they flee through it (with minor hijinks as they try to run through it at first and only realize on accident that they have to stand in it) just as another fireball deactivates it.

They arrive on the overworld, in an old player base, and wander and wonder at their new surroundings, before one of them collapses and starts coughing and spasming, as the undead plague takes hold of all three. They are about to turn until they are doused with a splash potion of weakness and chunks of holy golden apple, inoculating them for the time being.

They awaken in the modest house of an aged and experienced Steve, dark skinned and stoic, but with a kind twinkle in their eye, like Santa claus.

The language barrier and Steve's muteness prevents any complex explanations, but the kids get through that they had a bad experience and need help.

There can be a comedy bit where Steve sweats over only having porkchops on hand and tries to make due with some noncontroversial mushroom stew, until the kids happily dig into the "hoglin meat" as well.

Steve plunges into the nether to clear a path for the kids to go home, not realizing they are telling them that their home is gone, until Steve sees it for themself. Unwilling to condemn the kids to a zombie apocalypse in the overworld, Steve elects to lead them across the land to other player's bases in hopes of finding a nether portal that leads right to a settlement or bastion, before their immunity wears off. Adventurous hijinks ensue as they marvel and panic at the beauty and dangers of this world!

Some bits and story beats could be:

Alex (or one of the other, or even all, of the default skins) is one of the players encountered, kitted with elytra and netherite, building a massive megastructure, contrary to Steve's humble lifestyle. Alex does some cool air tricks as they land, but Steve is unimpressed, even cocking their hip and raising an eyebrow.

Steve and another player seem to be communicating, eyes locked together, with Lavender theorizing that they have some kind of telepathy, until it briefly but jarringly switches to gameplay where the players are allcaps "screaming" at each other in text chat.

The kids are attacked and one seems to be on the precipice of death, or even infection, until one of the players slaps a Totem of Undying into their hands and they are saved in the nick of time, deposited a few blocks away.

Lapis is in awe of the gold ore littering a badlands canyon while camped and tries to be brave to get some, accidentally falling, as Steve jumps down after them, catches them, and buckets just at the bottom, revealing an expertise and practice with the game belied by their wooden cube house, grass block floor, and disorganized chests.

They see the ruins and zombie hordes and even the Skulk, spawned by whoever the Ancients were, and the dangers of going too far. Maybe they are even pursued by a zealous Warden who breaches the surface to "correct" these "anomalies", as an additional "big bad".

It ends up being, of course, that the portals all lead to inhospitable places, like soul sand barrens, nether fortresses, and somehow even above the bedrock ceiling. When they actually DO find a settlement, it's a bastion, and while the other piglins are ambivalent or cautious, the Brutes are quite dogmatic, refusing and attacking the kids on the basis that they are forest-dwelling foreigners who reek of the overworld. Luckily for them, they have a new found-family of players who've been quite taken with them over their adventures who arrive to help, and elect to build a sanctuary just on the other side of the portal for them to live in, and which they can visit freely. Overtime, other refugees make their way, and an amicable piglin village starts up (perhaps even hinting at a theoretical future piglin rework, hmm), with Steve raising the kids personally, and with proper anti-zombie safety precautions, showing them how to Build, in Steve's sustainable, low-impact style. A Happy ending!

[spockfallsinlove]

Little cute kinda prompt: Kirk loves coming up with the silliest sappiest nicknames to get his Vulcan to blush hehe 💜💜💜

"Babe," Jim says to the ceiling.

"No."

"Darling?" At the affronted silence, Jim tries: "Baby doll?"

Spock huffs. "I believe you are intentionally making them worse."

Jim rolls over to his stomach, flopping an arm over Spock's bare chest with a groan. "You're the one intentionally vetoing every endearment I come up with."

"Then I suggest," Spock kisses the tip of Jim's nose, so close to his face, "that you find a suitable one."

"A suitable one?"

"One that encompasses our relationship."

Jim thinks on it for a moment. Grins in the wake of a complicated puzzle, one that he can turn over in his hand like a Rubik's cube. "Challenge accepted, then."

The first attempt: on the bridge. "Thank you, gorgeous," Jim says to Spock as he hands him a PADD, smiling beatifically. Spock's glare makes his smile drop.

Second: as Spock comes out of the shower, Jim throwing a towel on his wet hair and murmuring, "Hello, sexy," to which he receives a "Absolutely not."

Third: in the rec room, as him and Spock play chess while Bones reads in the corner. "Checkmate, sugar," he purrs, to which Spock simply stands and walks away from.

"The hell are you doing?" Bones asks over his book.

Jim sighs as he sets the pieces back on the board. "Trying to find something more romantic to say in bed rather than 'Spock'."

Bones stares into the middle distance for a moment. Looks back down at his book. "I don't know why I ask."

"He's shooting down every one," Jim protests. "I don't know what to do."

"You stop dicking around and find one he actually likes," Bones snaps. "And leave me out of it while you do."

Jim hums. Considers. "What do you think about—"

Raising a hand, not looking up from his book, Bones says, "Leave. Me. Out of it."

Jim tries a few more over the next few days ("Sweetheart", which was close; "Honey", which was worse; "Bae," to try what the kids are into). None worked. Each one made Jim more and more convinced that Spock may just break up with him to get Jim to stop trying.

Shore leave came, and Jim rents them a modest little cabin in the middle of a field of wildflowers and wood to apologize. A lake spreads far and clear a few miles from the cabin, with a little overgrown path leading to it. Jim finds Spock there one morning, taking notes in his PADD as he observes a few errant wildflowers growing in the crack of a boulder.

"This planet is fascinating," he says as Jim approaches, knowing it's Jim by his footsteps alone. "The flora grows where you wouldn't think it to be. The soil is fertile, and yet these wildflowers chose the sandy cracks of this boulder. Almost in spite of the conditions."

Jim grins, sticking his hands in his pockets, observing Spock's crouched position, the curve of his shoulders. He knows them like old friends by now; could draw his lines by memory.

"Beloved," he says, too soft for human ears to hear, but perfect for a Vulcan's.

Spock turns his head, mouth slightly agape. His cheeks are getting that adorable green tint that Jim loves to be the cause of.

Jim smiles. The sun is warm on his back as he holds out a hand to Spock, helping him up, running a finger down Spock's flushed cheek. "Is this suitable, Mr. Spock?"

Spock's kiss comes fierce and surprising. It takes Jim's breath away as Spock pulls back, his hand folding into Jim's. "Quite acceptable," he breathes.

[hlficlibrary]

✤ Fake Relationship Fics ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ Escapade by dolce_piccante / @haydolce {M, 146k}

In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He's rich. He's handsome. He's reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.

2️⃣ And Then a Bit by @infinitelymint {E, 158k}

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.

(aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

3️⃣ California Sold by @isthatyoularry {M, 123k}

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

4️⃣ Paint Me In A Million Dreams by green_feelings / @greenfeelings {M, 112k}

Harry's one of Hollywood's biggest actors, has made a name for himself in prestigious films and lives the life of a superstar. There's just one thing missing to make it picture-perfect, but the one Harry's in love with is completely out of reach for him. Enter Louis, one of Hollywood's biggest actors himself, who just came out of the closet and taps new genres in the industry. When Louis sacks the role Harry auditioned for in Scorsese's next big film, their irrational feud starts. Who could have guessed it would get even worse when for promo season, their teams decide to present them as a couple for publicity?

In short, Harry's in love with someone and doesn't care about dating anyone else, Louis never felt home in L.A., Liam writes love songs for someone he shouldn't write love songs to, and Niall makes everything better with good food.

5️⃣ Faking It by TheCellarDoor / @donotdialnine {M, 46k}

A uni AU in which Louis has been Harry’s best friend since he offered him cubed fruit on the playground, and they spend more time cuddling in their dorm beds than they do apart, but it’s not like that. Or is it?

Aka Harry pretends to date his best friend to escape unwanted attention from a too insistent classmate and hopes it won’t blow up in his face. Featuring embarrassing dildo accidents, awkward boners, longing, first times, late night conversations, emotional discoveries and Niall as the exasperated friend with bad advice.

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 this charade (was never going to last) by @scrunchyharry {E, 68k}

On the surface, CitizenX, an international caritative nonprofit, looked like any other nonprofit, funding humanitarian missions worldwide and striving to make the world a better place, one donation at a time.

At least, that was what Harry thought, until he was hired as a computer specialist for a spinoff agency called carish, whose true purpose was to reveal CitizenX’s tangled web of lies.

As if the whole ‘industrial spy’ business was not stressful enough, Harry found himself in a hatred-at-first-sight relationship with one of his new coworkers, Louis, a man intent on detesting Harry.

When the worst happened and Harry and Louis found themselves thrown together in hiding, with only each other to rely on, Harry never could have predicted the turn their relationship would take.

Nor could he anticipate that it would all be taken away from him and he would have to decide how far he was willing to go to get Louis back.

💎 Love Is a Winning Game by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings {M, 47k}

Before their broken engagement, Harry had his head stuck so far in the clouds that he doesn’t even remember entering him and Louis for something as crazy as a couple's gameshow until a series of bad, post-breakup decisions puts Harry in the awkward position of needing the help of his ex-fiancé to try and fix the mess he has made.

💎 Wed’n Walk (Or, We Went to Amsterdam Together) by @hellolovers13 {E, 11k}

When Harry had first started planning his honeymoon to Amsterdam, he had not envisioned ending up there with his best friend.

Or getting fake-married to him for 24 hours.

💎 Every Line, Every Word, Everything by lsforever / @kingonafiftymetreroad {G, 10k}

“I just fucking came out of the closet to the whole world so I wouldn’t have to parade around fake relationships anymore and that’s what you’re trying to put on me again?!”

or, the AU where Harry's team suggests that he should have a fake boyfriend after he's just come out. Who would've thought it would be his best friend?

💎 Just To See That Smile by @homosociallyyours {NR, 6k}

It's Coming Out Week at university, and Harry's taken on a lot of responsibilities to make everything run smoothly. Finding his roommate's boyfriend attractive is making that a bit difficult, unfortunately. It might help if he realized that said boyfriend (Louis) is really just there to help said roommate (Liam) figure out if Liam's crush (Zayn) likes him back.

But that would make things too easy.

A fic where a hastily faked relationship and a lot of miscommunication almost ruins a perfectly good dance.

[dvzaiosamu]

a short drabble about a soft moment with you and osamu dazai drinking coffee.

no warnings ahead, I hope you guys enjoy this really short drabble.

Today has certainly been an interesting day in its own way. Today, a warm summer in Yokohama, Japan, you had planned to drink coffee like every day, only today you would make a small change in the type of coffee.

You had just gotten out of bed, wearing a thin (favorite color) dress that gave you the coolness you needed in such hot months in the second largest city in Japan. While you were posing in front of the mirror, combing and enhancing your hair to make it look more aesthetic, a familiar person was present next to you, hugging you by your hips while letting his head rest on your shoulder, it was no one other than Dazai who wanted to spend time with you, taking advantage of the fact that the day was free 'according to him', you weren't entirely sure if he simply lied to you or if the president really gave you a day off for today.

"You look beautiful as always, belladonna..." He whispers next to your ear, with a voice full of softness.

"My, my, you flatter me so much, Dazai," you mutter back.

"Perhaps..." He trails off, smiling. "Come on, are you going to come down and have coffee with me?"

"Alright, alright, let's go, Osamu," you rolled your eyes in an amused way and took his hands off your hips, so you could get away from there, preferably to make yourself a coffee.

The young man laughs lightly and follows you like a puppy to the floor below, where your modest dining room is located next to a window with small views of a flower garden that you have. When you go to the coffee machine to make yourself a coffee, you remember that today you wanted to try something new. So instead of drinking your usual coffee, you decided to try an American coffee, the bitter ones.

"I notice that there is a new change," he comments, looking over his shoulder at the option you chose in the coffee maker. A smile appears on his lips.

"I just wanted a new change, that's all."

"I see..."

When the sound of the coffee maker finally stops, the two cups of coffee are taken out by your hand and directed towards the table. As you place them, Osamu soon sits down and adds a sugar cube, while you leave it simple.

"Hey, belladonna. Have you ever seen yourself with as much splendor, elegance and beauty as I see you with?" Suddenly he comments.

"I'm not sure, for that you would have to lend me your eyes," you respond, with a wearable smile, your lips resting on the ceramic, taking a sip.

"Right!" He exclaims with a wide smile, his eyes shining slightly. "You are very beautiful."

When you least expect it, he tenderly takes your hand and plants a romantic kiss on you, with a seductive and poetic look. "And you're mine".

[arrrmagedonnn]

Well i decided to translate my lore article into English soooo I hope you will enjoy it!! Also feel free to ask some questions about them or maybe art requests with them, I will be so happy to answer!

CW: legal slavery, slave whump, conditioned whumpee, self-harm, non-con, abuse (I dont know what to add but I hope you understand vibe)

1. A bit of world building 

The setting is an alternative Europe of the 70s-80s (historical events are different, this is just to understand the general atmosphere and the development of technology). The economy is based on a system of owning and selling slaves, and is under strict control –you can legally buy/sell a slave only through the Central Market, which is located in every city. Market belongs to the Formelle family, which takes a large percentage from each completed sale, and due to this is one of the richest in the country.

The market is divided into several sections, each sells slaves of different “quality". Every Friday there is a Big Auction where exclusive slaves are sold, which cannot be bought just like that. They are considered more elite because of their physical attractiveness, learning to write/read and other skills. On the rest of the week, in the evenings, Small Auctions are held, where slaves are exhibited that have not been sold for a fixed price during the day. The Big Auction and Small Auctions are held on Monday and Wednesday by Mark, on all other days by Fran.

2. Ethan

Ethan is a slave, he was born after his mother (also a slave) was raped by her master. She worked in a large estate, with many servants besides them, so for the first couple of years they did not pay much attention to Ethan, but the more he grew, the more he began to resemble his father in appearance. So, in order to avoid a scandal and the disclosure of the rape story, at the age of 11, Ethan was resold to the other side of the country, to a farm.

He lived and grew up there until he was 17. Everything was quite good – Ethan was not given too hard work and most of the time he was not noticed at all, so he often secretly went for walks in the woods, to the river, and other interesting places near the farm. On one of these walks, he accidentally went a little further than usual, got lost and for two days couldnt find the way back. When he returned, the owners thought he was trying to escape, so they beat him up and then resold him to work in a factory.

It was a textile factory and the conditions there were much worse – constant work for 15-17 hours a day, disgusting living conditions, lack of normal food, and in case of disobedience (which was just weariness), Ethan was punished by being locked in a small dark punishment cell (after that he had a phobia of enclosed dark spaces). At such moments, he began to have a strong derealization, and in order to somehow cope with this, Ethan did not come up with anything better than stealing and carrying sharp cutting objects (needles, blades, pins, scissors) and cutting/stabbing his hands, because the pain helped him return to reality and don't start going crazy.

Ethan worked at the factory for about a year until Mark took him away from there.

By nature, Ethan is modest and intimidated, he tries to be as obedient as possible, even to the detriment of his needs. He has low self–esteem and considers himself fundamentally bad, wrong and broken, and thinks that all violence in his direction is right and deserved.

And some facts:

- Ethan can't read or write, but he can count to 30 and tell the time by the clock.

- Ethan constantly hears voices accusing and insulting him, and he is generally prone to visual, auditory and tactile hallucinations, as well as bouts of derealization.

- Ethan considers ignoring and loneliness much worse than any physical punishment.

- His favorite dessert is sugar cubes

3. Mark

Mark is one of the children of the Formelle family. Thanks to his mother, who indulged his every whim, he grew up spoiled and selfish, used to having everything in the world revolve around him. Because of his character and behavior, his peers did not want to be friends with him, so he either bought the friendship of other children for money, or was surrounded by slaves of his own age (he accidentally killed one of them during a game by throwing a stone at his head, but the next day they just brought a new one to Mark).

After graduating from high school, Mark tried to study at a medical university, but barely mastered the first year. Instead of studying, he preferred going to loud parties, drinking expensive cocktails in bars, going to boutiques with branded clothes and finding other ways to spend his parents' money. After some time, he was forced to work as an auctioneer in order to bring at least some benefit to the family business, but even so he has a lot of time for endless parties and bars.

Since childhood, Mark had a noticeable craving for violence, so when he got older, Mark began to use slaves, originally intended for sale, for his “personal use”. Mark's main fetish is cutting, so that all his slaves either died from wounds and blood loss, or became mutilated to the point that they could not move normally, and their appearance made them unsuitable for resale. Such waste continued for a long time, but in the end, Mark was forbidden to take expensive elite slaves, and instead take cheaper and already used ones, such as Ethan. By the way, Mark chose Ethan for himself only because he saw fresh cuts on him, and he was very amused by how he was hurting himself.

By nature, Mark is very mannered, arrogant, likes to be the center of attention and is fueled by adoration for himself from other people. He has an antisocial personality disorder, so he does not feel empathy for others, except for feigned pity. He likes to control everything and hates it when things don't go the way he intended.

And some facts:

- Mark uses makeup – concealer, concealer, he draws himself small arrows and a mole under his eye, because he heard that it makes the face more symmetrical.

- Mark is a sadomasochist and have ASPD

- His favorite dessert is macaroons

3.1 Mark and Ethan

Ethan lived with Mark for two years, and Mark very quickly won Ethan's love and affection through emotional manipulation. Compared to life at the factory, life with Mark was easier and calmer for Ethan, even despite the constant violence in his direction. Mark convinced Ethan that the process of making cuts makes him “beautiful“ and ”full-fledged", all punishments are done “for the good". In addition, beatings, sex, cuts and forced self-harm always alternated with affection, care and words of love, which made Ethan want violence against himself, because after it there would be a pleasant, comfortable part.

Their "relationship" lasted until Mark thought it was a funny idea to fuck Ethan in the eye socket. Before that, Ethan was already physically weak due to the constant mutilation, and after that he finally broke down, constantly just lying, sleeping, crying, and did not show the same emotions as before. Mark tried to sell him, but he couldn't find anyone willing to buy the exhausted, half-dead one-eyed slave, so Mark gave Ethan to his friend, Rafe.

4. Raf (Rafael)

Rafael is a childhood friend of Mark, but unlike him, he does not come from a rich family. His father left the family, Francesca's mother worked a lot and almost did not raise her son, so from childhood Raf was more serious and independent than his peers.

Raf's mother and Mark's father communicated closely, so the children spent a lot of time with each other. Raf was the only one whose friendship Mark couldn't buy, and who didn't suck up to him because of his status. They often quarreled, fought, reconciled, fought again, but in the end they remained close friends for many years to come. Rafe was and remains the only one whom Mark considers his equal, and whose opinion and attitude he cares at least a little.

After graduating from school, Raf dreamed of going to medical school with Mark, but he failed to enroll in budget education, and there was not enough money for paid education. Instead, Raf graduated as an economist and got a job at a regular office position.

By nature, Raf is quite balanced, restrained and serious. He suffers from workaholism and insomnia. Long-term communication with people quickly exhausts him, it is difficult for him to make new friends and even acquaintances.

And some facts:

- In high school and before the first years of university, Rof dated Mark's cousin, Lillian. They parted on quite a good note, realizing that they were not suitable for each other.

- Raf is always haunted by the thought that he is not doing "enough" – not working hard enough, not trying hard enough, and in an attempt to feel satisfied with the completion of some project, he can work continuously for several days in a row.

- Raf has a british cat, Lala, which he picked up from the street (in fact, she went into the house herself and refused to leave). Lala is not very sociable and grumpy, often bites and scratches if you try to pet her.

- Rafe likes to watch true-edge shows on TV and read detective stories, in which the reader is invited to find the killer along with the main character.

- Collects stamps and smoking pipes. - He cooks well, but because of work, he has almost no time for it.

4.1 Raf and Mark

Raf and Mark still communicate well and often, despite the difference in characters. After Rafe broke up with Lillian, Mark suggested that he start dating, but after the recent breakup, Rafe agreed only to a "relationship without a relationship" – they have sex, romance, but they do not call an official relationship.

4.2 Raf and Ethan

As I said above, Mark decided to give Ethan to Raf. Rafe himself has been extremely negative about the slavery system since childhood and does not support it, so he agreed to take Ethan only because he would not have lived long in any other place because of his weakened condition. Ethan will need a long time to get used to the new conditions, especially in contrast after living with Mark. For example, Ethan is used to being punished for any oversight, and if he doesn't, then he needs to harm himself on his own, and Rafe won't understand the reasons for this behavior for a long time.

weeeeell thats all!! I know that the article is a bit crooked and my English is not so good, but I tried my best!!

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Gojo with an s/o who's a sweet doctor that runs a back-alley clinic?

Besides medicine, s/o is also skilled in toxicology and botany which earned her a job at one of the best hospitals in Japan. However, her jealous older sister (who's her only living relative and former guardian) ended up shutting down the hospital.

He touched down in front of the clinic, down the alley just off the main highway of their bustling city, and let himself in. “[Y/N]-chan!!” Gojo called out. Helping himself to one of the lollypops at the front counter. “Are you here?”

“Back here!” She called out and Gojo walked back as he put the red candy in his mouth. “I’ll just be another minute.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Gojo asked the little girl, who clung to her bear and was being very brave while [Y/N] looked at her knee.

“I fell down.”

“Oh. That’s ok. Happens to the best of us.” Not him really, but his point was still valid.

“There! All done.” [Y/N] announced with a big smile. Then reached into Gojo’s pocket to take out one of the other 3 lollypops he had snuck into his pocket. “You were very brave today Kimi-chan. Now head home, and tell your mother you need to wash it once more before bed. Here are some extra bandages to recover it.”

“Thank you!” The little girl hopped off the table with her bandages, bear, and candy, then raced out the door.

“Another satisfied customer.” Gojo teased. Then he saw [Y/N]’s face when he turned around. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to have to close the clinic soon.” He was shocked by that. This clinic was everything to [Y/N], and had been their dream. When they were all still students at Tokyo Tech, they had never been interested in missions or fighting, but the healing aspect of their jobs. It wasn’t like they had had a spiritual awakening after tragedy either, like Shoko, it was what they always wanted to do. “My family….my sister really….” Gojo huffed through his nose. Of course it was. “She did some legal mumbo-jumbo so that my trust grandfather left me has been sealed. I can’t afford the kind of lawyer it would take to untangle it, and without that money I can’t run the clinic.” She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “I’ll have to come up with something in the next month or I really will have to close it.”

Gojo bit through what was left of his lollipop, and walked over to the watercooler to get a drink. The little plastic ice cubes she put in there to keep it cold, and for the kids, bobbing around as it filled his cup. “How much?”

[Y/N] gave him a little ‘hn?’, which was cute, and he repeated himself. “How much? How much money do you need to keep this place running?”

The look on her face was one of shock before she waved her hands. “No. Gojo, I didn’t tell you this to ask for money.”

“Who’s asking? I’m offering.”

“That’s still not the point. I have the money. It’s just my sister—“Is being the royal twat she always is.”

He remembers her sister, and not fondly. She was like any other member of a well to do sorcerer family. Stuck up. Superiority complex. And couldn’t possibly see a reason [Y/N] would want to help people instead of living in the lap of luxury like she did.

“You just tell me how much you need to get by and you can pay me back after we figure out how to unlock your money. Easy-peesy.”

[Y/N] still seemed awkward, but eventually told him a figure. Gojo was already pulling out his phone to wire transfer the money and doubled it. He knew her too well to know she was low balling him to be modest. “Ok! Now let’s go get lunch.”

“You’re buying me lunch?”

“No. You’re buying me lunch. You should have enough money to do that now.” He pretended to flinch when she punched him in the arm, but still followed up out. Hanging up her white coat along the way.

“Thank you Gojo.”

“Don’t mention it. No matter what ‘her highness’ says, you’re doing a good thing here. Not just for us, but for regular people. Looking out for the normies is what this job is supposed to be about.” He took another lollipop on the way out.

“You’re gonna rot your teeth, you know that?”

“Think you can take up back alley dentistry by then?”

[ikkosu]

REST

mouse-verse

"It's barely even ten, mouse — is that coffee on your table?"

YOU brought up the disposable cup : pale parchment rimmed with green and wagged it a little for him to see. The liquid sloshed and steam flared from the muddled veneer. Where he stood, teetering in front of your desk, his frown deepened — then, he sighed.

"I understand the forcefield parameter needs reforming. And, I understand it's not an easy task to manage. But the only thing you're working towards to, here, is killing yourself." He nudged it away from his periphery. "You hunkered down on two cups, already?"

"It's only around five milligrams of caffeine." You set it down; tack on your desk, frowning when it left a brown spot.

He pressed a digit against his temple, possibly to soothe the incoming migraine straining his circuits. "Adults are advised to consume at least less than four hundred a day. You've consumed double the quota."

" Less doesn't keep me awake." You stand up, trotting towards a metal rimmed cabinet holstered by left side of the wall.

"Less, keeps you alive." He scowls. "Don't think I'm not aware of what you've been doing up these recent nights. Those concealer under your eyes aren't so subtle, mouse."

You chuffed, sorting through the files. "Alright then, mister preacher. If you get to have a say then I do as well : how about the cubes of 'engex' I found tucked under your desk, hm? Not so preaching anymore, huh."

Prowl turns sharply away; his door wings pike up and you smiled. "Those are non-alcoholic. You brewed them, yourself."

"Indeed, I did." You grabbed a plastic bag. "And guess how much caffeine i've docked inside the engex?"

Prowl turns back, gritting his teeth. Smug brat. "Don't change the subject, mouse.You and I both know I've dealt with  far worse and a little lack of recharge isn't going to kill me. Which stands to reason,  your body needs  rest or the base is going to scour for another scientist that's at least not hell bent on killing herself."

"Already decided."

"Excuse me?" Prowl watches as you wrangle out a folded cushion from the bag: teal green of color, and rolled it across the floor.

You shrugged off your lab coat and underneath is a soft white tee with a modest neckline. Prowl isn't sure whether to turn away or keep looking.

"What are you doing." He says dryly.

You sat on the cushion, giving the spot beside you a prim pat. "We're at a stalemate. How about we counter the assault by caving in to a truce?"

Prowl stares at you for a moment, likely contemplating the need for fresh air through the open door, or the prospect of copping himself up inside your laboratory. Alone, together.

Doesn't seem so bad.

The cushion dips and cool metal curls around the side of your waist before pitting you close to his chassis. A warm kind of thrum pulses throughout your body and one servo molds against your cheek, cool to the touch, thumb on the plush of your lips.

Prowl tries not to sound amused through his solemn reverie. "If that's your suggested strategy, then I wouldn't want to know what many more would come if ever you're to take reign of the battle field."

You grinned and gave the digit a peck  "What can I say, officer? I did look for both logic and reason."

"It's still not very strategic." He murmers and his lips find the crook of your neck, nose a soft nestle against your jawline as he kisses it.

"Rest."

[dira333]

A moth to the flame - Ibiki x Aburame! Reader - part 1

tagging @heavk11 @snuggleboots and @missalienqueen for Naruto content

The woman across from his is stunning, no doubt, but Ibiki cannot stop focusing on her front teeth, the lipstick marks there that she missed when she got ready. It’s such a small thing, but it ruins the smile she’s showing now. It’s probably meant to be sultry.

“You really are a hard working man,” she teases, her left hand touching his right. He almost flinches away, barely manages to keep it together. He really should get out more.

“Of course I am. A family does not feed itself.”

Her smile flickers out like a dying lightbulb. “A family?” She asks, her tone weirdly cold.

“Well, so far it’s only me and my cat, but-”

She laughs. It’s not the same laugh he’s heard before tonight, light and airy and no doubt flirty. This one is mocking and cruel.

“A family? With you?” 

He breathes out, grabs his drink and takes a sip. He should have seen that coming.

“Now,” he tries to smile as fake as she is, “That’s not nice.”

“Sorry,” she giggles again, no doubt convinced that it sounds sexy. “But women like me don’t settle for guys like you.”

“Mhm,” he nods, pulling out his wallet, “And vice versa.”

-

He’s almost out of the restaurant - glad that no one’s around that he knows well enough to be ashamed around - when he spots you. 

Your coat is open, a rare sight, and the dress you’re wearing modest, but it has him slow down enough to hear your conversation.

“Can you please check again? There should be a reservation under the name Yamane. Or maybe Aburame, if he used my name.”

“No, there’s no reservation, I’m afraid. Not for the whole night. Maybe you should check in with your partner. He might have just forgotten-” You obviously tense at the last word and the hostess stops, clamps her mouth shut and turns away. 

“Aburame-san,” Ibiki walks over, not really sure why he’s doing it, but still urging to do so. “Seems we’ve both had bad luck tonight.”

You turn to him, dark glasses reflecting his own face. 

“Your date forgot that you existed?” You ask, voice cool and smooth, like the ice cubes he puts in his drink.

“No,” he laughs softly, “But I think I would have preferred that tonight. Do you want to get something to eat? Together? Though not here, if that could be arranged.”

You sigh and pull your coat closed around you, hiding away again like he knows you. 

“I think that would be nice.”

-

“Is it a Jutsu?” He asks over a bowl of Ramen, watching with odd fascination as your glasses fog up from the steaming food yet you don’t pull them off.

“No.” You pick up a Narutomaki with your chopsticks and plop it in your mouth. No lipstick stains on your teeth. “And before you ask, not every Aburame is constantly forgotten. It’s not genetic.”

“But what about-” “Ibiki?” He turns, a little mispleased that he got interrupted yet again. Genma’s standing only a few feet away, Senbon carelessly dangling from his mouth. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a date tonight?”

He’s not sure how Genma even knows about it, but he already hates him for it.

“What if I am?”

Genma blinks. “With who?”

Ibiki stares him down for a second before he points at you. Genma blinks again.

“Is she in the bathroom right now?”

“Are you blind?” He asks, “Aburame-san is sitting right across from me!”

“Oh, shit!” Genma laughs awkwardly, “Didn’t see you there. My bad. Well, I… I’ll get going then.”

Ibiki scowls and turns around. You’re sitting stiffly now and he can only imagine how much that must have hurt, especially after what has happened earlier tonight.

Being simply forgotten by someone you were supposed to go on a date with is never funny, even less when it happens consistently.

“You didn’t have to say that,” you point out, chopsticks now resting on top of your bowl. “Now they are going to assume things.”

“I’m sorry I said it,” he apologizes, “I didn’t know why… I” He sighs. “Since I couldn’t help but overhear your predicament I think it’s only fair to tell you about mine. I was asked out a few days ago. I don’t really read much into these things because so far nothing has worked out, but she said some hurtful things and… I guess I just didn’t want Genma to think I could not land a date even if I wanted to.”

Not for the first time he wishes he could look through your glasses. 

“I hardly think Genma will be impressed by your choice of date,” you point out stiffly, “But I don’t condone hurtful behaviour, so I am most welcome to soothe the hurt. What was it about, if I may ask?”

He can’t help but chuckle. “I want to have a family one day. Apparently I’m not the man women want to have a family with.”

“How many kids?” You ask. He’s not surprised by your direct approach, after all, he’s gotten to know you in the last years of working together.

“Ah,” he considers it for a moment, “I think my ideal number would be three, but I’d be lucky to even have one, I guess.” He hesitates only for a second. “You?”

“Five,” you say without missing a beat, “But I could see myself compromising there, if needed.”

He almost chokes on his drink.

“That’s… good for you, I guess. Your date tonight… Have you talked about that yet?”

“He’s a friend of a friend,” you explain, stiffening again, “I asked him out and he didn’t seem against it. We haven’t had a chance to talk about these things yet, though I don’t believe we will in the future.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. But you know, we’re only 18, I guess we still have some time.”

“Right,” you nod, picking up your chopsticks again. “I heard about your promotion. Do you plan on implementing some new methods?”

-x-

“Shibi,” you ask, your eyes focused on little Shino, “How did you court Zoka?” 

Shino looks up at the sound of his mother, but when neither you nor his father address him, his attention turns back to the riddle you brought. It’s a tough one, but you think he’ll get through it on his own. He’s a smart kid, even at three years old.

“Why do you ask?” Shibi asks from the table where he’s writing a mission report.

You’re sitting on the hardwood floor, can see the way he’s bent over the table. Does he not want to talk about this topic?

“I want to court someone. I don’t know how.”

“I brought her flowers. Why? The Yamanaka insist that it’s a perfect gift to capture someone’s attention.”

“Flowers,” you repeat, considering this. “Thank you, I’ll try that.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Shibi offers, but you shake your head.

“Not yet. I don’t want to… how do people say? I don’t want to Jinx it.”

“Auntie,” Shino pipes in from where he’s sitting across from you. “I got it.”

“Of course you did,” you lean in to inspect his work. “Marvelous.” 

A shy smile lights up his face.

-x-

There’s a bouquet on his desk. 

Ibiki stares down at it, not really processing what he’s seeing. It’s beautiful, even to his untrained eye. White lilacs and dark red carnations against a deep green.

“Kawano?” He asks the poor Chunin who’s been working as a Secretary the last two months. “Did someone put this flowers here?”

“Flowers?” The boy blinks. “What flowers?”

“The flowers on my desk.” Ibiki points at them. Kawano almost jumps at the sight.

“What are they doing there?”

“You’re the secretary, you should know!”

“I-I.. I’m sorry, I didn’t… No one was coming by for at least half an hour, I swear.”

Ibiki harrumphs. He’s not sure what to do with them now. Should he bring them over to Inoichi, ask him if he knows something about them?

From the corner of his eye he can see movement. When he looks up, you’re standing in the doorway, stiff as a board.

“I just found them,” he explains the elephant in the room and points at the flowers. “Did you notice someone coming by?”

“Maybe you’ve got a secret admirer,” you offer, your voice tense. “Aren’t flowers part of courtship.”

He laughs tersely. “In that case,” he picks the flowers up and offers them to you, “They should go to someone more deserving than me.”

-x-

“Zoka liked sweets,” Shibi remembers.

Shino’s sitting on your lap, so completely focused on your newest batch of moths that your conversation seems to go over his head.

“What kind of sweets?” You ask, already thinking. You haven’t seen Ibiki eat chocolates ever and you cannot picture him with those disgusting gummy worms Inoichi feeds his daughter. 

“There’s this delicacy from the land of earth,” Shibi remembers, “I got them when I was on a mission near the border, I think. They were quite pricey, but she loved them. She called them pillows of sweetness.”

“Hmm,” you make, calling your moths to fly a formation for Shino with the flick of your hand. “Imported candy could be interesting. It’s always interesting to try new things.”

Shino claps his hands when the moths land again. 

“Can I show you what I’ve learned, Auntie?” He asks, offering up his own Kikaichu.

“Of course,” you say, help him slip from your lap. He walks over to the kitchen table and your eyes get caught on the bouquet in the middle of it, the dark red and white against the deep green. 

You swallow thickly, but Shino doesn’t notice. 

“Are you watching, Auntie?” He asks and you refocus.

“Of course!”

-x-

“What’s that?” Ibiki musters the box in your hand. It’s fairly small, made out of a dark wood with intriguing carvings.

“It’s a foreign candy,” you explain, “I got it on my latest mission.”

“Ah, the land of water, right?” He nods. “I didn’t know you were into sweets.”

“I am not,” you explain tersely, “But I thought you might want to try them.”

He blinks. He’s never been a sweet tooth and he doesn’t know what could have given that impression.

“Ah, thank you, I guess.” He accepts the wooden box that’s surprisingly heavy in his hands. “Do you want to try together.”

Something dances over your face, something like the flickering sunlight falling through the foliage. It’s beautiful, but it’s hidden away just a second later, hidden away like your body behind your wide coat. 

He blinks, chasing away the memory of you in that dress.

The candy does not look appealing in any way, twelve globs of a clear, wiggling substance. It’s moving too much to be regular jello.

“How do you eat that?” He asks. You shrug and hand him chopsticks. It doesn’t work, the gel just breaks apart. 

“I’ll get spoons,” you offer, rushing to the little coffee station they’re not actually supposed to have but hide very well every time the Hokage threatens them with an inspection.

Ibiki digs the spoon into one of the globs, realising this one has a faint green color to it. It’s cool on his tongue and tastes vaguely fruity. He holds it in his mouth for a second, not sure if he should bite it or swallow it whole.

Your eyes, hidden behind glasses, don’t tell anything, but your mouth is pulled into a line that tells him you’re equally displeased with the experience.

Eventually, he decides to bite into it, only to realize that it changes the taste. And the texture. It’s prickly now and his tongue starts burning. He wants to swallow it, get rid of it, but the way his tongue feels, almost as if it’s swelling up, tells him to do the opposite.

You stiffen as he spits it into his coffee cup. His tongue feels furry in the worst way, and double its size.

“I think I might be allergic,” he offers weakly.

“Do you need me to get a medic?” You ask, hands hovering.

“A glass of water would be a good start.”

-x-

“Jewelry,” Shibi offers over a game of Go, “Though I doubt it will work for you.”

“Why not?” You ask, making your next move even though you know you’ve already lost. Your attention is elsewhere, and it’s not on Shino, who’s napping on a pillow next to you.

“If the other things didn’t work, I doubt it will work.”

“I doubt he realized what I was doing,” you say, deeply dissatisfied with today’s outcome. Ibiki did have to see a Medic and as far as you know he’s still unable to speak properly.

Shibi looks up. 

“That’s the most important part, though,” he says, “You cannot court someone if they don’t know you’re the one courting.”

You hesitate, Go piece in your hand.

“I just…” You start, the words painful enough that you don’t want to say them out loud. But you must, to get over them. “I don’t want to be forgotten again.”

“If you’re courting him, he must be worth it, right?”

You hesitate.

“Maybe.”

“Think about it,” Shibi offers, taking the piece from your hand and putting it where it belongs. “You’re still young. You don’t have to know today who you want to marry. You still have time.”

-x-

They could have done with some more people on this mission, Ibiki thinks as they race through the forest. He trusts you and he knows you’re going to do your job the way it needs to be done, but he would feel safer with at least one more person at their side.

They only rest in the early morning.

“I’ll take first watch,” he offers. You shake your head.

“I don’t have to sleep yet. I’ll go first.”

He hesitates for second before he nods. “I trust you with this.”

They hardly talk, a comfortable, focused silence between them.

It’s only on the way back, hands still caked with dried blood, that he slows down.

“Let’s rest earlier tonight,” he points at the formation of rock and trees. “We can get a good sleep and travel quicker tomorrow.”

You nod, offering to gather herbs, berries and wood while he sets up a sleeping place and some matters of defense.

He’s halfway through putting up the shitty tent that’s in every mission scroll when you approach him. There’s a white flower in your hands, one he hasn’t seen before.

“What did you get?” He asks, not sure if you want to show him something poisonous or edible.”

“This is for you,” you say, voice higher than he’s ever heard. “It reminded me of your eyes.”

He stares. “My eyes… are brown.”

“The biggest part of the eye is white,” you insist, pushing the flower into his hands. You’re stiffening again. “Though it may be a sickly yellow if you don’t have a healthy lifestyle, I-”

“Why are you gifting me flowers?” He asks, an idea creeping up his back like a slow spider.

You shut your mouth, breathe loudly through your nose. Ibiki wishes he could pull off your glasses, just once get to see your eyes.

“I like you,” you say, mouth pulled into that thin, almost pouty line he only sees when you have to admit something you don’t want to admit, “I am courting you.”

“Oh.”

Your back is as stiff as a board now as you turn, the flower dropping to the floor in your haste to get away.

“It’s alright,” you insist, “Forget about it. I’ll get us firewood and food.”

-

It takes you a long time to get back.

Long enough for him to gather his thoughts. And some supplies.

It’s nothing much, nowhere near the stuff he could get in Konoha, but he’s trying his best.

He’s covered the bedding in the tiny white buds of wild garlic, the aromatic smell filling the tent. He’s found a bush of wild strawberries too and even though he’s only managed to pick three ripe ones, he thinks they count as something sweet. Candy, if you will.

“I was supposed to bring the food,” you point out stiffly.

“Oh yeah, that’s not…” He can feel his heartbeat in his chest, realizes with a pang how uncomfortable you must have felt before. “I want to court you too.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.” He waves at you to sit. “I know how it works, I just… I don’t know yet if we could work, but I like you. I’d like to get to know you. So… if you’re not allergic to garlic or strawberries, this is me courting you back. Just don’t… don’t tell it back home, okay? I’ve got a reputation to lose.”

[tobyislame]

WHATS TOBYS FAV MUSIC???? LIKE WHATS HIS MUSIC TASTE?

someone asked what bands he likes so im grouping these together but IM SO GLAD U ASKED IVE BEENWAITIGN FOR SOMOENE TO ASK ok so . he likes every genre of music ever but lets narrow it down a lil

if it has cool guitar/bass parts hes fuckin with it cus thats mostly what hes listening for in music as a guitar player, so stuff like the strokes, interpol, franz ferdinand, modest mouse, pavement

also maaajorly fucks with 80s stuff, mostly new wave (the stone roses, echo & the bunnymen, tears for fears, pet shop boys, when in rome, duran duran, new order, peter schilling, billy idol, gary numan, wham!)

likes rap but only if its from the 90s, so yk 2pac, ice cube, the notorious b.i.g., snoop dogg, wu-tang, eminem, (sighs really hard) beastie boys

hes a country boy at heart so he likes old country but it has to be OLD, before the toby keiths and blake sheltons . think johnny cash, hank williams, marty robbins, oh hell throw elvis in there too

folk rock as well, stuff like jeff buckley, crosby stills and nash, simon and garfunkel, not sure if willie nelson would be in this category but him too

anddd also loser music cus hes just the biggest loser that ever losered . weezer, blink-182, sum 41, limp bizkit, ben kweller, the front bottoms, car seat headrest, radiohead, etc etc

also heres my toby playlist that ive been building on for 2 years, feel free to peruse the almost 400 songs on it

[thestobingirlie]

you understand my fave characters like no other before, are there any fic recs that you would want to bestow upon this humble ask??

this ask is about a month old lol, but here i am!!

in no particular order:

to have a friend

"Maybe life will be different soon. Now that I've been fully myself for a year, I know there's no going back. As it turns out, being a loner suits me beautifully. But there are times when I crash hard into the hope of finding my people. Friends who would stick with me through anything. A girl I can have a less hopeless crush on. There are adventures waiting for me. I know it." -Rebel Robin

Robin finds her people.

this fic is a must read!!!!! just beautiful. my favourite robin fic ever

the wine of life by littlearrows

After the Upside Down, Steve, Nancy, Robin and Vickie take the '90s to rest and grow up. Along the way, there's weddings, kids, a treehouse and one car breakdown.

(aka my stancy & rockie slice-of-life future fic)

theeee stobickancy future fic!!! it’s canon to me, no matter how the show ends lmao

honestly, all of littlearrows works are a must read, katie is a beautiful genius!!

the road goes ever on by MaryPSue

The Battle of Starcourt has been won, but its aftershocks are still rippling. Separated from the rest of the Party, Will struggles with feelings of abandonment, while El is trying to find her place with the Byers and come to terms with the loss of her powers - and the closest thing she's ever had to a father. Back in Hawkins, life is slowly returning to normal, or at least as normal as life ever is. The Party are starting to adjust to having two of their members at a distance, though everyone's still missing El and Will, Mike most of all.

But life in Hawkins never stays normal for long. Someone - or something - is following Steve and Robin, and they may not be the only ones under surveillance. A spectre from El's past makes an unexpected - and unwanted - reappearance. And an old enemy may turn out to be much more than meets the eye.

And sometimes, the bad guys are smart, too.

Separated by miles and misunderstandings, with communications failing and their enemies somehow always one step ahead, Hawkins' strange little fellowship find themselves caught between holding on and moving forward. If they want to survive to see another November, they'll have to face the past - and each other.

very fun body horror fic!!!! i just love fics that interact with the upside down outside of strict canon.

the very best people by scioscribe

“Why are you messing up my undercover operation, Steve?” Dustin said. “Do you want another tear to open up in the space-time continuum and suck us all into the Upside Down? Do you want the entire world to turn into squishy, mind-flayed zombies because you and Robin couldn’t get your shit together?”

(Or, the one where Steve and Robin go undercover in an evil suburb.)

stobin pretending to be a newly-wed married couple to go undercover. what more could i want from a fic?

minor falls, major lifts. by millcrs

“Steve.” Shiv lowers her voice an octave. “Steve. Calm down. Just let me see, okay?”

“I don’t want you to see.” He smacks her hands away, feels the cut of a modest rock nip at his knuckles. Wambsgans outdid himself.

“Where’d he get that?” Steve laughs, points, and Shiv’s eyes flicker to her finger like she forgot all about it. “Fuckin’ Macy’s?

—

“Look,” Connor says, palms up and placating. “We can point fingers at each other, or we can be honest with ourselves and blame the commies.”

st/succession crossover; steve as one of the roy siblings. i’m soooo obsessed with the entire series!!

in a strange land by MrsEvadneCake

Doom comes to Hawkins, Indiana. Population est. 30,000.

It’s cold, that’s all, and the breeze is kicking up. That’s why Steve feels the chill go up his spine like someone dropped an ice-cube down his back.

“Why wouldn’t I be real, El?”

“The Aboleth got you.”

i’ve absolutely rec’d this before, but i don’t even care because it’s literally one of the best st fics ever, and i need everyone in the fandom to read it.

nothing really sticks by rosie447

Steve cuts his hair with safety scissors in the bathroom of Family Video. Maybe he's less okay than he's been letting on.

steve trauma fic, everybody cheer!!!!!

[shade-pup-cub]

Febuwhump 2024, Day 13- continuation of Day 10: Time & Malon (Some of the Chain)

Fandom: LOZ/Linked Univere

Summary: Time is forced to watch a memeber of his family go through the process of what Twilight went through with the Shadow, with Dark. This time though, it kills... but not who you may think.

CW: blood, injury, miscarrage (for the love of god read this warning!)

Notes: I did not proof read this afterwards... and don't come to me with hateful comments when there is literally a warning right here. If you don't like, don't read.

“No.”

Time’s hands shook as he grabbed a towel that was hanging behind him. He pressed it against her wound and apologized for the pain of it as she clutched at his shoulder and chest, holding in the pain as much as she could. Rushed footsteps coming up the stairs alerted him to his company.

“Time?” Warriors was the first one to make it to the bathroom door. The Captain was wide eyed at him, in just as much disbelief as himself. “Hyrule, we need you!”

Shaking his head no, Time forced his words to work. “It’s the same wound as Twilight’s. Open my bedroom door, hurry.” He scooped Malon into his arms in a bridal carry, keeping her head on his chest. He made sure to be careful of the door frames and walls as he made it down the hall to their room.

Warriors had already pulled back all the blankets and quilts and stood out of the way for him to get to Malon’s side of the bed where she was gently placed. She was already sweating, eyes growing distant by the second. She groaned as she was moved a little closer to the center of the bed, making Time’s heart ache more than it was.

“What do you need from us?” A voice from the door asked. It was Twilight, wringing his hands in front of himself, brows furrowed in distress for his family. All the others were tucked in the hallway behind him.

Time sent a pleading look to Warriors, his big brother, when his voice wouldn’t come out. Warriors nodded, then addressed the others. “Perimeter check first, clear the house. It is still early enough in the day that I’m sure there are some chores that haven’t been attended to. Wild, that potion you made before, see if you can remake it. After that, we just need to keep it quiet and safe. Have an ear open if they need anything.”

Majority of them left without a question. Wild grabbed Twi’s arm to pull him away and he followed.

When Warriors went to leave Time and Hyrule to help Malon, Time stopped him. “Link- please stay.” It was rare for him to call Warriors by their shared name, but it got his point across. He needed his brother with him.

“Time?” Hyrule said as he approached. “I need to be able to access the wound, but still keep her modest.”

The three of them worked quickly, Warriors helping to get Malon’s boots and socks off, Hyrule went and gathered bandages, water and a few sugar cubes while Time got his wife’s belt, waist wrap and shawl off. He pulled her shirt from her skirt, tucking it under her under the wire of her bra to keep it out of the way until he could get her into a nightgown.

Her skirt was high on her hips and too thick to keep her in. No doubt she would soon have a fever and would burn up with the layers. Getting her down to her knee length drawers and covering her up until Hyrule was ready, Time finally took in the sight of Malon’s open wound and nearly choked.

Black webbed lines laid across her left ribs, blood caked on her skin and still flowed lazily onto the bed sheets. His eyes caught something else though and it wasn’t the wound.

He pulled the covers back down some to see better, then laid his hand on her lower stomach. She was swollen with- dear goddesses above- she was carrying their child. She had their own little pup growing inside her, already big enough that she had a good sized baby bump.

Emotions swirled through his tormented mind. She was pregnant. They were going to be parents. The wound though, would it- could it- No, Malon was strong and surely their child too. But Twilight is also strong and they almost had to bury him.

“She didn’t tell you.” It sounded more like a realization for Warriors than a question.

“No and knowing her, she probably wanted it as a surprise.”

Hyrule timidly took a seat on the opposite side of the bed. “May I?” He had his hand hovering a good foot over where Time’s was. With permission granted, he laid his hand over where the baby was growing.

Time watched as Hyrule’s magic traveled through Malon’s abdomen, reaching towards the baby. Warriors placed a hand on his shoulder as a comfort, a much needed comfort. When Hyrule pulled his hand away, he smiled and removed the single tear that fell.

“He’s a strong little one. Maybe four months old.”

“He?” Time asked.

“My magic doesn’t just tell me of an injury, it shows me like an echo of what is inside: muscles, veins, nerves, organs. I saw a ‘him’.”

Time was ready to throw in the towel when it came to being a hero and just be a husband and a father, but the new expression on Hyrule’s face made him pause. “What aren’t you saying?”

Hyrule bit his bottom lip, clearly thinking over his words. “When a mother is with child and becomes injured, especially with a dangerous injury like this, her body defends itself in every way it can, even if the mother doesn’t want it to.”

“‘Rule, what are you saying?” Warriors asked, hand tightening on Time’s shoulder.

With a heavy sigh, he told them. “Malon’s body may self terminate the pregnancy due to the stress of the injury.”

‘No, no! No! I refuse to believe that she- that he- I will not believe that he will slip through our fingers before he takes a single breath!’

“I will do everything in my power to prevent that and to save them both.” Hyrule added, already pouring his life spell into Malon’s wound.

Time waited there unmoved for however long, could have been hours, before Hyrule took a deep breath, wavering slightly in his place. Time hated to say it, but Hyrule needed to rest. “Traveler, take a break.”

“No-” he yawned, “-I’m okay.”

“Itervalues like we did with Twilight.”

“But…”

“You won’t be any good to them if you drain yourself beyond what you are meant to. Lay down in the bed, get some rest.” Time left no room to argue.

“Wars, can you check on Wild and the others?” Hyrule asked as he kicked off his booth, succumbing to the needed rest his magic needed.

Warriors nodded, then turned towards Time. “Do you want the others to know what’s going on?”

“No point in hiding it.”

With Hyrule asleep, Warriors debriefing the others and Malon unconscious, Time figured he needed to listen to his own words. He tried to be as quiet as he could as he took off his bulky armor and chainmail, placing it all in the corner of the room for later. He took the chair that sat up against the wall and brought it over to the side of the bed he had been keeping post at.

Sitting, he leaned forward onto his elbows, taking Malon’s right hand into both of his. He kissed each finger tip, knuckle, the back of her hand, followed by her palm that he then laid against his unscarred cheek. Her fingers twitched against his cheek, bringing a sad smile to his lips.

‘How did it come to this?’

Knowing he couldn’t do much else than be supportive at his wife’s side, he laid his head down on the bed, right hand hand laid protectively over their son. Her right arm that he was holding, slid over his shoulders limply as he laid down, but it was still comforting and warm over him.

Days stretched on for what seemed to be months. Malon woke a few times in the first several days, coherent enough to talk, to talk about the baby and to assure the younger men in the house that she was going to be just fine. She also demanded that Hyrule didn’t work too hard for her sake, knowing good and well that he wasn’t going to listen.

The next few days it was harder for her to talk, only making little sounds. A fever hit her hard. She shivered, trying to pull the blankets over her with the little strength she had, but they couldn’t let her keep all that body heat in like she was wanting. Instead, Time offered some heat from his body, allowing her to sleep at least more comfortably.

Then Malon stopped waking up outside of her eyes opening. The wound itself was closing, but the lines were spreading. Spreading not towards her heart like they thought it would, but to her abdomen. The poison was searching for the weakest point in her body and that happened to be their son. The horror of the situation was noticed three days ago. Today… today was one of the worst days of Time’s life.

Today, Time woke to a smell in the air that reminded him of a battlefield. He checked over the wound, but it was fine. It hit him like a brick wall when he ripped the covers back.

“Hyrule!!” Time called from his open bedroom door. The sound of something breaking was followed by curses and multiple running footsteps.

Time’s hands were covered in blood, some even on his face from trying to clear his eyes of blinding tears when Hyrule, Legend, Warriors and Twilight rushed in. The last three paused at the sight. Warriors was the first to move forward to help.

Time was knelt at the side of the bed, Malon’s hand clutched in his. “I-is… Is he-?” He couldn’t get the question out.

Hyrule’s shoulders slumped forward. “She hasn’t woken up in days, we need to force feed a stamina potion into her, see if she will wake up.”

“On it!” Legend darted out of the room.

“Hyrule?” Time tried again.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry Time, but she miscarried. Her body didn’t have any other choice.”

“That can’t- that can’t be it. It can’t just be over. There has to be something we can do, a red potion, something!” Anything!

Hyrule shook his head. “Right now, we need to focus on saving Malon. Giving her any kind of healing would only cause the baby to be trapped inside her and that could kill her quickly.”

Time stood at full height, glaring with a snarl. “Try something anyways!” Warriors placed a calming hand on Time’s arms, but Time pulled away and grabbed ahold of the Traveler’s arm in a too tight of grip. “Save them both!”

Hyrule’s eyes were dangerous. “Get him out of here if all he is going to do is prevent me from doing what needs to be done.”

Time went to lunge for Hyrule, but Warriors forced him back, resulting in an audible crack against the Captain’s jaw. Going back for Hyrule, Time was tackled by Twilight. The younger tried to haul his ancestry away, making it to the door before Time turned on him too. Twilight readjusted his hold, getting his arms around Time’s middle from behind and slammed them both into the wall.

“Let go!”

“Can’t do that!”

“Let. GO!” Time roared, but the fight bled out of him as Legend poured the potion into Malon’s mouth. She woke with a gasp, then screamed from the pain in her core.

Time missed everything said as he slid down the wall to the floor, Twilight still holding onto him. He was curled in on himself, blood covered hands hovered in front of his face. He held his breath, trying to keep it all in. His veins bulged from his neck and forehead while his skin turned red.

Twilight had Time sitting between his legs as he pulled him closer, saying, “Let it out. Breathe and let it all out.”

Time did just that as he turned his head to Twi’s chest, gripping the young man's sleep shirt and hollered with every bottled up emotion he had suppressed since Dark attacked Malon. He never once was told that it was okay, because it wasn’t okay.

Still having tears roll down his face after an unknown amount of time, he looked up to see Hyrule holding a towel in his arms. Time straightened up, curious eyes looking at the bundle.

“I thought you might want to see him, before he- before he is properly buried.” Hyrule slowly went to his knees, transferring the too small of a baby wrapped up into Time’s arms.

“We will give you some privacy.” Twilight said, giving Time the space he needed.

Time sat there against the wall, almost scared to open the towel up. To see was to be real. He didn’t want it to be real, but he would never disrespect the dead that way. He cradled the towel in his right arm, pulling the edge back with his left. He covered his mouth as another choked sob slipped through. So tiny, not even fully developed… The father oh so softly stroked the baby’s cheek with a single fingertip.

He laid in the bed with his wife tucked into his side, child placed on both of them to hold. He spoke into Malon’s red hair. “I’m sorry… There are so many things I am sorry for. You weren’t supposed to get hurt, ever. Our adventures so rarely involve our loved ones, but I was such a fool to think this one would go by the same guidelines.”

He paused, breathing in his wife, alive and nearly healed.

“This will be my greatest regret.”

Notes: Was going to add a whole scene where Sky made a pretty engraved coffin and Time buries the baby and curses Hylia for doing this to them, but I couldn't talk myself into doing it.

[harveybwabbit92]

R/n, she's watching Tregear make coffee: E... eight cubes of sugar...?

Tregear: I thought I was being modest...

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

How could one man be so nervous just knocking on the door? The pit in Tarhos’s stomach gnawed at him demanding to just forget everything and leave, text her that something came up and they could put it off for later, but he knew better. This was important. More important than he could even describe.

He jumped visibly startled when the door opened forcibly dragging him from his own racing thoughts, “Hi Yvonne.” How awkward could he be? He went through the usual small talk until they actually sat down and he nervously massaged his own hands, he didn’t want to worry her, it really wasn’t something bad, but his brain had a hard time even forming what he wanted to say.

He’d never been more scared to say the wrong thing before. Not since his interview with Robin when he couldn’t afford to not get that job. Still he hoped his worry never met his usually stoic expression as he took a deep breath.

“Me and Haru have been dating for a while now, I know, but… I’ve been thinking about our future a lot more recently. Maybe it’s because of therapy or just the natural progression of when you live with someone.” Another breath to keep his thoughts steady,

“I've been thinking about how much I enjoy him in my life, even the bad parts we’ve been through. I’ve never felt this way about someone I’ve dated before and I know I haven’t been what he’s needed a lot of the time, but I really do still care about him more than anyone. I know it would mean a lot to him if I asked you first.”

Tarhos pauses his nerves reaching a crescendo until the words finally fall from his tongue, “Can I marry your son?”

── 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ── 𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴

She was not expecting the sun to be blocked when she opened the door to her small, humble home in suburbia. The warm, golden rays of sunlight that typically streamed into her cozy entryway were suddenly obscured as Yvonne stepped into her modest entryway to see who had come to visit. The house was freshly perfumed with the lavender scent of her last cleaning session, and but it did little to stop the sudden fluttering of her heart. Over a decade later and part of her still feared to unlock the door. It had taken her a moment to navigate the multitude of locks lining the doorframe, each one clicking with release - and the door creaked open.

The sight of talll taaaaaalll Tarhos standing on her doorstep and blocking the afternoon light was ... well, he was the last person she imagined to be there. She even had half a mind to grab Miss Murata's Tupperware, convinced that today might finally be the long-overdue day her daughter would reclaim it, but here stood Tarhos instead; and Yvonne holding a stack of empty containers. Yet, as she beheld Tarhos, his expression a blend of uncertainty and intent, she felt herself soften. A quick, crinkly smile broke across her face, and she stepped aside with a gesture for him to come inside; curiously noticing how he nearly forgot to take off his shoes.

He … never did that. There was something different about him today—a subtle tension in his shoulders and a flicker of hesitation in his eyes that made her wonder. Was he nervous? — And what could have brought him here?

The bright afternoon sun dipped low in the sky as they filled the empty space between them with small talk, and soon warm golden hues filled her kitchen. Yvonne casually made her way to the table, balancing a tiny plate of glistening, peeled tangerines — each segment perfectly; it was something Haru had picked up. The amount of times he'd taken fruit to Tarhos was beyond count. She then poured two tall glasses of iced tea, the pour clinking against ice cubes that floated like tiny glaciers, catching the light with a sparkle. Once everything was settled she sank into her seat, tilting her head slightly, her curious gaze locking onto Tarhos while she bit back the urge to ask him his purpose. He looked almost comically strained, like a balloon being inflated way past its limit, the tension in his brows knitting them close. She could see the gears turning in his mind, struggling to find the right words, to tame his thoughts until they made some sort of sense and all of the nonsense was cleared out of the way.

Yvonne decided that patience was the best companion in that instant and waited for him to talk - and when he finally did she found herself momentarily speechless.

All at once, the long timeline of their relationship unfurled in vivid detail before her; well-worn and rich with colors, of every difficult moment and every bright day. She recalled, with an ache in her chest, the countless times when her baby boy’s face lit up with that radiant smile while sharing one of many stories about him. Conversely, she could hear the echoes of painful phone calls where tears flowed freely, where Haru's voice had grown so small she was convinced he was a schoolboy again.

Yvonne’s dark eyes fell to the cool, metallic glint of her wedding band bound around her finger — a supposed emblem of commitment bestowed by a man who had become a distant memory, nearly a shadow in her life after three long months of silence. When was the last time Ren had called … ? She quickly felt the sharp pang of irony; who was she to judge the complexities of love when her own heart was ensnared in all this constant uncertainty? She knew Tarhos loved her son. That was more than she could say with her own marriage. After taking a deep breath to compose herself, she leaned across the table to take his hand in hers - her expression serious, but still showing the joy she felt towards his question:

"My son loves you, and I want you to be what he needs now. You need to be what he will need, every single day until the end. If you can promise that to me, to him … Then yes. If you cannot promise it to either of us, well, I think you know what I have to say as his mother. But ... from what he's told me, and what I've seen ... For now; yes."

[elizabethkitley]

Honestly, I think it’s less that cc prefers masc clothing over fem, but more that she prefers clothing where she can worry less about something popping out or riding up on her. We all know she’s pretty modest with how she dresses and she’s even alluded to having some body insecurities before. When she wears her dresses, it just seems to me like she just doesn’t want them to ride up too much and that’s why she keeps her hands down around the hem, which ends up making her look super uncomfortable. Also, I think the majority of athletes just become accustomed to wearing more athletic clothing in general, and those typically are of a more masculine nature. Like, when my brothers and I are at home relaxing, we’re all in our basketball shorts. It’s become both casual and leisure wear. Genuinely, I think it has extremely little to do with her sexuality, and just more about she doesn’t have worry about bending too far down, not putting her arms up too high, or having to cross her legs when she’s sitting. On another note, I think she has a lot more say in what she wears than people think. Like she said before at ASW, she was the one who told her stylist she wanted something like pajamas (hence the suit), so I really don’t think she just goes along with what her stylist wants, especially if it’s gonna put her in clothing that makes her super uncomfortable. If she’s gonna turn down 5 million from ice cube, I think she’ll say no to a dress that an endorsement wants. I seriously just thinks she likes clothes; that she likes to be able to wear different styles and fits. I mean, she said her favorite style to go for is “quiet luxury” (I think I remember that correctly), and I don’t think that includes crop tops and sweats, lol.

To be clear, I don’t want it to seem like I’m accusing you or any one specifically of saying that how someone dresses determines their sexuality, but I do think some other people on here definitely do make it out to more than it needs to be…

Anyways, love you 😘!

even just irrespective of sexuality i think it's more people calling out what they see and it's her demeanor & behaviour in fem clothing versus casual clothing. and this is just further proven by the way she wasn't really wearing all that even in high school. to some who may have followed the W for a while it may seem reminiscent of how the players were pressured into wearing feminine styles et cetera for marketing. but yeah i see what you're saying and it could very much just be something else

masculine/masc-leaning quiet luxury outfits are very much a thing though and i'd say the beige suit she wore that she claims was her favorite leans into that a little bit