#and check out the most recent chapter!

[mechazushi]

Kitagawa's Soulmate Customs Order.

Soulmate Customs is a channel on Youtube. They specialize in spicy/sweet/sad custom embroidery clothing for the loved ones in your life. This is a short story about Marin Kitagawa getting a reason for an order, giving it to Gojo, and the consequence of getting him a spicy sweatshirt. #not sponsored, just really like what they do. also #i am single and channeling my lonelyness through fanfiction.

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It was a cold and windy day in Japan where Kitagawa was at. It was January so she shouldn't have been too surprised, but the biting chill in the air felt a little over-dramatic for the season. Part of her knew she would've come to regret the decision to wear a pencil skirt and should have compensated for the weather with more than thick, fur lined leggings, but she wanted to look cuter than usual today. She was on her way to meet her boyfriend Gojo for a very important coffee date. It was important because they were finalizing the paperwork outlining Gojo's moving details into Kitagawa's apartment.

After working everything out and being the one to finally admit she liked him, it had been a few years and some life altering changes had gone down in this seemingly brief period of time. Kitagawa had gotten approval and started working as an official cosplayer for Sparkle Productions. Working with them meant she got a consistent income at a much higher rating. Meaning she could afford her own apartment in an inner-city location. It was close to work, but it inadvertently made it farther away from Gojo's home. It made her feel like she couldn't see him as often as she wanted. Speaking of which, Gojo's gone off to college.

He's still striving to become a Hina doll maker, but him and his grandpa thought it wouldn't hurt if he had some knowledge running a business. He was also partnered with Sparkle Productions as well, seeing as it was made very clear that him and his skills were inseparable from Kitagawa. Between the commissions he's been getting paid with from the production company and commissions from doll making, he's raking a bit of money as well. He's been living with his grandpa since the beginning of their relationship however, and some people( no stories will be told, but the grandfather has been the biggest advocate for this) felt it was time for that to change. Gojo has just ended his most recent semester, so now the time for this was about as best as it was going to get.

Tightening her pink fleece and strawberry decorated cardigan against a sudden blast of chilling wind, it made her wonder if she was going to die of freezer burn before she reached the coffee shop. The only thing keeping her warm in her mind was the possible chance she could convince Gojo to let her crawl into his lap in the public cafe. She knew he would object if she said it outright, but probably wouldn't notice if she came at the plan slowly. Start off with complaints about the weather while giving a longer than necessary hug, lather him in compliments about how warm he is, snuggle up as close as she could get away with and just... slowly invade his innermost personal space an inch at a time. She could see it working.

She turned the corner and charged in the direction of the glass doors to the building, before stopping herself as she caught a glimpse of her boyfriend sitting against the wall in side-view of the long expanse of glass acting as the front of the building. Gojo played on his phone as he was cross-legged and reclined languidly in the bench seats that lined the left wall. The low coffee tables set in front of them offered a full view of the daring outfit that he walked out with. Black from the shoes up, he wore leather loafers, corduroy pants, and a tight turtleneck. The main focus of the outfit came from the quilted biker-style jacket made out of boldly patterned and oddly shaped patches of red, grey in varying shades, and white fabric.

She recognized the fabric as scraps coming from a cosplay she did last year. The long and wide, tri-tiered, ruffled mermaid skirt it had was made out of geometric chunks that had to be individually sewn together, meaning there were a lot of off cuts left and were considered unusable. Despondent and irritated at the waste it created, Gojo was left puzzled as to what to do with the scraps, not wanting to toss it all out. Marin had sent as many pictures as she could, hoping it would inspire him to try his hand at street wear. While some of it ended up getting patched together as a Hina doll's outfit, she was told that the rest of it did end up as a couple personal projects, ones that she wasn't given any hints as to what they were.

She knew he was still uncomfortable with non-traditional clothes, but had been making personal strides in his own time. It was still a shock nonetheless, to see him not only in something that wasn't his usual samue, but something that he'd created. She knew it had taken a lot of willpower from him to commit to walking out of the house in something that absolutely would have sent his anxiety straight through the roof three years prior. Sitting there in the warm shop lighting made him come across as more of a model than she did most days. Seeing him without an ounce of fear in his dashing appearance tugged on her heartstrings and filled her body with pride.

Snugging the manila file full of paperwork up into her armpit, she reached up and tightened her high ponytail up even tighter, straightened her curled side bangs, and pulled down on the hems of her outfit. Checking her outfit in the mirror finish, she giggled a little once she noticed she was wearing a turtleneck as well under the cardigan. While it was white, she couldn't help but smile at how the two of them were going to look as they sat there. Lounging against each other, drinking hot drinks and sitting the warm cafe, soaking up each other's body heat- God she needed to get out of the cold.

As she entered the shop, Gojo looked up from his phone and immediately brightened. He stood up as Kitagawa got closer and pulled her into a friendly hug. Gojo tried to let go, but she clung onto him a little longer and hummed as the warmth began to replace the chill she developed walking outside.

"Blisteringly cold out there, isn't it?" Gojo questioned as he chuckled, realizing why Kitagawa was holding on so tight.

"You wouldn't mind if I just weaseled my way into your new jacket, right? I feel like my bones are shivering." Her eyes were closed as she tested her chin on his chest.

"So you noticed it, huh?" Gojo said as he tightened his arms again and swayed her lightly from side to side.

She opened her eyes as she looked up and saw that something was different about him. Feeling transfixed by his gaze, she noticed that his eyes seemed more intense than usual even though she could see the soft love he had for her in the plains of his face. Drawing attention to the shape of his eyes, she could see that they were rimmed in a thin, but noticeable line of smoky black. It helped emphasize the dark pools that were his ebony irises and strengthened the emotions in his gaze.

"You- you look different." Marin uttered out sweetly, not wanting to break eye contact.

"Ah. It's... noticeable, isn't it?" Gojo turned his head away in embarrassment

"N-no! It's good! I've just... never seen you in guyliner before." Kitagawa broke from the hug and the two of them sat down. She passively clocked the half finished mug of milky tea on the table before turning back to Gojo.

"Yeah, I was leaving an Economics lecture and a girl next to me retouched up her makeup with something I haven't seen before. I might have interrogated her over it, the poor thing." Gojo said as he looked somewhat ashamed, "Anyway, I bought it because it's never a bad idea to have more options for makeup with you. Before I left I had noticed that my eye bags were a little more obvious than usual and you had left your makeup bag in my dorm, so I might have helped myself to the concealer. Since I was already applying makeup I thought it would be a good idea to try it on myself and make sure I know what I'm doing. You know?"

"You've gotten really good with the color matching. I couldn't tell you had any on!" Kitagawa said as she tilted her boyfriend's head back and forth, "What did you use for the eyeliner?"

"It was this." he said as he pulled up a picture of the product listing and showed her an image of a surma stick.

"That's... Are we sure that's not a torture device?" Kitagawa said as she visibly paled.

"It does look like one, doesn't it?" Gojo giggled, "When I asked about it, she gave me some tips, but it still took me a few tries to get it to look straight. It's probably for the best that we keep the makeup on you though."

"Why? You look amazing!" Marin said, being very adamant in hopes it encourages him to be just as bold in the future.

"Maybe." Gojo said simply as he put his phone back in his pocket.

"Did something happen? I really think you look good." Kitagawa said as she inched closer, removing any space she could between their laps.

"it's just... I think I might've scared the girl at the front counter. She looked nervous before I started talking to her and I think she was shaking when I left." Gojo said as he pinched his lips and looked downcast.

"I sincerely doubt that was the reason." Kitagawa said as she patted his thigh. She tested her head against his shoulder and looked him in the eyes while smiling. He returned her smile, but it didn't seem as bright as it could be.

"Speaking of the counter, I should go order myself a drink. I still feel frozen on the inside." she said, already regretting having to leave his very warm side.

"I know it looks like I'm almost finished with mine, but I ordered yours a few minutes after you texted me saying you were leaving your place." Gojo said as his hand drifted to her wrist, preventing her from leaving.

"Oh, really? What did you get?" she asked.

"This place is serving the strawberry hot chocolate you saw on the TV. That sound okay?" Gojo questioned.

'OMG, You are amazing!" Kitagawa said as she threw herself into his arms.

An attempt was made to see if she could wiggle her way onto more of his lap, but she quickly slid off as she missed the landing. Almost as if summoned by their conversation, a nondescript looking waitress walked over to them with a tray carrying two drinks.

"A hot chocolate covered strawberry and a refill of the chocolate truffle chai." the rather petite looking woman said as she stuck around to confirm the order.

"Oh, I didn't order the refill." Gojo said, trying to be polite.

'It's okay. It's on the house." the waitress said as she winked before nervously scurrying away.

"Huh. That's never happened before. I think that was also the lady I talked to the first time as well." Gojo said as he watched her tip-toe back to the counter, puzzled. Immediately feeling skeptical of the waitress's intentions, Kitagawa began to inspect the outside of the fresh mug of tea that was placed on the table. Looking closer at the decorative napkin, she found that someone from behind the counter, probably that waitress, had scribbled down their number with the words 'Call Me' next to it.

"I take it you've never had a girl give you their number on a coffee napkin before either?" Kitagawa said as she held up the evidence to Gojo.

He was taking a sip from the first mug as he turned to look at it and proceeded to choke a little when he saw what was written. As Gojo was trying to recover from the lukewarm liquid almost invading his lungs, Kitagawa looked at the offending napkin a little harder. While she recognized that it happened through no fault of his own, she still felt mildly threatened and had a desire to make the waitress rethink approaching a taken man. Putting the number into her phone, she waited until Gojo had fully recovered from his coughing fit and asked him to lean into the camera's frame. As he adjusted his face, Kitagawa turned and planted her lips in a solid strike against his mouth. When she could tell he had relaxed into the sudden bout of affection, she took the photo and uploaded it to her text messages.

"Not that I mind getting surprised like that, but what was that for." Gojo said dreamily, his eyes only focused on the now smudged pink lip gloss she was currently sporting.

"Just sending a message. Literally." Marin giggled as she sent the photo to the unknown number with the caption saying 'He's taken." under it.

"Kitagawa... Isn't that a but much?" Gojo replied worriedly once he saw that the picture had been sent. No less than a minute had passed before everyone had heard a loud cry of disappointment echo through the cafe.

"Nope!" Marin giggled.

It was later in the evening now, hours after the date had ended and Gojo had walked her home. She was in bed relishing in the afterglow of a warm shower and wrapped in her fluffiest pair of pajamas. She knew it was late, but couldn't help herself as she scrolled down the infinite chain of short videos in an attempt to stop thinking about what had happened at the cafe earlier. She knew her Gojo was handsome and she felt it was an appropriate reaction to seeing him spending a little more effort on his appearance. Mainly because she could see herself pulling the same stunt if she hadn't known him before that day. It didn't change the fact that it had happened.

They had known each other before they started dating, but their relationship still felt a little young. She had no doubt that she could trust him to stop other people's advances, but Marin couldn't help but want to do something that would stop that all together, or at the very least make people think twice about it. It was impossible to spend all her waking hours by his side, not to mention that it would be an obsessive and quite toxic move on her part. She already felt that Gojo was the one for her, but since she made the first move she wanted to give him the chance to be brave and propose. Kitagawa had already accepted that it was going to be a while longer before that was going to happen anyway. A quiet, unhinged part of her said "Get a dog collar." but that was quickly disregarded as soon as it was brought up.

Deciding on one last attempt to clear her mind of the turmoil, she made the decision to scroll for three more minutes and then put the phone down. She had noticed that her For You page had begun to fill with happy couples recording their happy moments together. She would always joke with the people in the comments, all of them relating to each other about how single and alone the couple on screen made them feel. Now she just smiled and laughed imperceptibly to herself in the dark, feeling better about her situation because now... now she could relate to the happy couples. The ads felt like they were picking up on this too. It kept sending her listings for couple's gifts, with some being actually cute and some she just couldn't find a reason why there had to be a couple's variation.

Getting close to the end of her self imposed time limit, she almost scrolled past one that seemed to be an American ad, but upon closer inspection it didn't have the usual banners or the click bait links bordering the edges of her screen. What really caught her attention was the red faced and sweating emojis that took the place as the video's title. Kitagawa considered herself to be a simple girl. Hot emojis probably meant that the video's contents were going to be something she might be interested in. Yeah, it was a cliche tactic, but it is how she found some of her most recent eroge games and manga. Letting the video play out, she saw a pretty red-headed woman looking at the camera, her face looking shocked by what she found. Cue the camera angle panning over to a gold engraved key-chain with an outline of a woman in lingerie with the back of it saying "Cum home safe <3"

Kitagawa let the clip play over again, just to be sure that is what she actually saw. After confirming that, she immediately clicked on the clip's link to the redheaded woman's main page. Disregarding the self imposed time limit for the sake of research, she looked at videos after videos on this woman's page. She got the clear impression that this woman had a custom engraving and embroidery shop that didn't shy away from its more... risque submissions. Sure there were some fluffy, more sentimental pieces and a few sad memorial works, but the ones that had the half naked women on them clearly got more views (Go figure). To be fair, there were one or two male submissions. Kitagawa got a little chuckle at the thought of putting a shirtless Gojo on an embroidered hoodie for herself, but that would be next to impossible as even in the middle of summer she wouldn't find him just casually shirtless.

As she scrolled down one more, she found out that they did jewelry as well. Different types of necklaces as well as bracelets. That got Kitagawa thinking. Bracelets weren't as obvious as a ring could be, but an engraved bracelet could be something she could get away with. Gojo didn't seem like the kind of guy to be down for wearing a necklace, hell it took him four years to try and wear something that wasn't a samue. But she could probably convince him to wear something as small and innocuous as a wrist band. Getting him a sexy sweatshirt with her almost-bare ass plastered on the front of it should have been an immediate no as an option, but she had to admit it was right up her ally.

Kitagawa left her phone on the clip's main page and turned it off for the night. She wanted to take a closer look at what was available in the morning as she wanted to put some real thought and effort into what she wanted to get. She had already decided to buy something from them anyway, seeing at how cute and personalized each item could get. She knew she couldn't spend forever making a decision however, with Gojo slated to move into the apartment in less than two weeks. She was going to pay through the nose for express shipping, but it would be worth it.

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Two weeks had passed and it was finally Moving-In Day for Gojo. He was a minimalist at heart, but due to taking up cosplay as well as keeping up with Hina Doll creation, there was quite a bit of equipment to lug over. Thankfully the heaviest thing he owned was a sewing machine. Kitagawa would never admit this willingly, but she bought an apartment with a second bedroom with the intention that Gojo would move in eventually and take over that space and turn it into his hobby room and office. Four hours later, all furniture was rearranged and the boxes were flattened and put outside the door. It was a bit early for lunch yet, so Gojo decided to collapse in the main room and stretch out in the new environment. He landed on the floor with a comically long and low groan.

"Enjoying yourself down there?" Kitagawa said as she giggled at him, watching from her place on the low couch parallel to him.

"I'm going to get used to seeing this view, aren't I ?" Gojo responded after a moment, the realization of moving in settling into his mind and body frame. Kitagawa crawled on her hands and knees over to where he laid and gave him some deep and unhurried kisses on his lips. An activity Gojo reciprocated gladly in a similar fashion.

"You're gonna get used to the view of my bedroom ceiling first, I bet." Kitagawa whispered salaciously as she pulled away and moved her head to his chest. Gojo rolled his eyes hearing that and shifted his arm to lay across her waist.

"If someone had told me that I'd not only be in love and dating the most beautiful and extroverted girl in my class, but also living with her in a few years... I'd think it would have given me a heart attack." Gojo said and he sighed deeply.

"I think you would have the heart attack from finding out time travel exists." Kitagawa responded.

"Why time travel? Could have met a fortune teller." Gojo playfully interrogated.

"You're too skeptical to believe a fortune teller." Kitagawa offered simply as she moved a hand to the back of his head, longingly gazing at his face.

"That is true. Guess it would have to be a time traveler." Gojo chuckled out tiredly. His eyes were closed, but he could feel Kitagawa play with his short tufts of hair. Her hand brushing in a relaxed and loving manner, acting as an anchor to this moment.

"Oh! Almost forgot." Kitagawa said as she clumsily got to her feet as quickly as possible. Gojo watched over the kitchen counter as she got a footstool and used it to gain access to the top of the fridge. She pulled down an already opened cardboard box and walked around the counter with it.

"I know you're just moving in and all. buuuut I decided to get you a few housewarming gifts." She said as she sat down and crossed her legs, placing the box on top of her lap. Gojo propped himself up onto his elbows as she got herself prepared to show him the surprise.

"Do you want the Sweet gift or the Spicy gift first?" Kitagawa bit her lip as she offered and drummed her acrylic nails on the top of the box. Gojo groaned loudly in mock agony at hearing that one of the gifts he would be receiving was described as "Spicy".

"You know what, humor me. The Spicy one first." Gojo said, already preparing himself for the gift by throwing all expectations out the window. Hopefully mentally preparing himself this way meant that Gojo wouldn't be sent into a heart attack that he seemed to be prone to getting around her. Kitagawa giggled maliciously as she opened the box and pulled out a vacuumed sealed, plush feeling, rounded, and black object. After she handed it over, he gently pulled away the plastic wrapping. He could already see the outline of what could be a leg dressed in fishnet stockings.

"Oh, this already doesn't bode well- what is this?" Gojo exclaimed as he unfolded the black hoodie.

The smile on his face was unmistakable, but he was still very shocked at what he was seeing. Taking up as much space as it could on the front of the soft hoodie, was a detailed white outline of what he assumed was his girlfriend dressed in a very complicated looking lingerie outfit with her hair up in a bun. She wore a high cut pair of baby blue underwear paired with a similar colored bra that left little to the imagination with matching strips of fabric crossing her midsection. There was a garter belt harness holding up some white fishnet stockings and a bunny ear headband completed the look. She was posed sitting on her thighs with her knees spread and holding her phone off to the side so as to not obstruct any part of the outfit. Curiously though, her head was turned and looking behind her. The phrase "Dress me up" Was plastered in bold lettering at the top of the framed image.

"Wait till you see the back of it." Marin tented her fingers and continued to laugh manically.

"God, there's a back to this?" Gojo said astonishedly. He quickly turned it around and moved the hood out of the way before he held it up again.

It was the same pose, but seen from the back. The high cut underwear had a large white pompom stuck to it to represent a bunny's tail and he could see why her head was turned away in the first picture. While it didn't show the rest of her face's features, it showed her tongue sticking out. If one looked closely, they could see the smallest dot of silver on the tongue that was supposed to represent the piercing that she had. Under the photo this time was the phrase "I'm your mannequin.".

"You... you know I can't wear this outside, right?" Gojo stuttered, taking in the magnitude of the gift he was presented with.

'Come on, I know you better than that! Wasn't expecting you to!" Kitagawa continued to giggle though her fingers at her boyfriend's embarrassed appearance.

"Th-then why...?" Gojo tried to ask while processing the gift in front of him.

"You've been in the guest room, right? That room can get super cold in the winter. I think it's got a weird draft problem." Kitagawa answered as she sucked on her lips and rested her elbows on the edges of the box .

"I figured we would have gotten a heater?" Gojo questioned.

"Yeah, I think the money for that is gonna go to getting a window air con for the bedroom. You know by now that I'm a cuddler and you like the room arctic when you sleep, sooo..." Kitagawa left the sentence to hang as Gojo nodded in agreement.

"I'd hate to get paint on it if I'm going to be working in this." He said as his eyes landed back onto the hoodie.

"So what! Get some paint on it!", She said as she scooted over to sit behind his back, "You know what? I think you should get a fat dollop of white paint on it. Right about there, don'tcha think?" Kitagawa moved her finger over his shoulder and pointed to her right ass cheek.

"K-Kitagawa!" Gojo exclaimed in embarrassment once he remembered why she would say such a thing.

"What? It's what happened last time I wore that!" She laughed as her arms tightened around Gojo's neck playfully, making sure he didn't run away from the conversation. He could feel himself melting at the playful goading.

"I'm still surprised you would get me a hoodie in the first place. Not that I don't appreciate the gesture." He said as he tapped on her arms in hopes she'd give him back some breathing room.

"Well... to be honest... This might be playing a part in a master plan." Kitagawa said mysteriously as she side-eyed him.

"A-and what plan would that be?" Gojo replied, his tone already dripping in fear.

"To steal... YOUR SHIRTS!" Kitagawa stealthily pulled on the strings that held his samue together and swiped his top off his body with surprising ease. Before he could counter the attack, she stood up and had already put her arms into it. She grabbed the sides of the top and wrapped it as tight as possible around her. As he stood up to look at her, Kitagawa took a handful of the top's fabric and brought it up to her nose. He continued to watch in amazement as she took the heartiest snort and sighed in satisfaction.

"Ahhhh. Been wanting to do that for years." She continued to look content even as she heard Gojo try to hold back a fit of laughter.

When he finished, he looked at her like he saw what love really looked like for the first time. She looked at him like she always had. With the deepest, most complete understanding of what happiness really was. Gojo picked up the hoodie from the floor and shuffled it over his head. After tugging it into place, he spread his arms out for a hug. Kitagawa gladly fell into them, just like they fell into each other's heart years ago. They held each other in place in the middle of the room for a moment, savoring the other's presence and heat in the room.

Love never looked so damn good.

"Didn't you say there was a second gift?" Gojo muttered into the top of Kitagawa's head after a long beat of time. She shook her head in his chest and slowly pried herself from his embrace. She walked back over to the box and pulled out two bracelets.

"I know the hoodie is never leaving the apartment, but I wouldn't mind if you did start wearing a little something for me. If it's not too much, 'cause I know you're not really a jewelry person." She handed over a metal bracelet plated in rose gold and held onto the silver one. On the top of the rose gold one was an emoji of a needle and a spool of thread, while the silver one had a bow and hands making a heart.

"There's a little something on the inside too." Kitagawa said looking sheepish. Flipping them over, Gojo could see that there was a line of kanji etched on the inside.

"She's my doll." in the rose gold bracelet

"He's my doll maker" was in the silver one.

"Kitagawa..." Gojo sighed affectionately.

"Is... is it okay?" she slid the silver one on before she asked nervously. Gojo sliped the rose gold one on and gently took her by the hands before he responded.

"It's perfect." Gojo whispered as he leaned in for a kiss, one that Kitagawa was happy to return back. They gently played with each other's lips for a moment before Gojo broke it off to ask a question.

"Surprised you didn't get the rose gold one for yourself. I figured that color would be more up your alley."

"I didn't because of what you said right there." Kitagawa smiled. Gojo only tilted his head in bewilderment.

"You saw the color and thought of me. It's why I chose mine to be silver." She purred. Gojo chuffed at hearing that, understanding how it made sense. Kitagawa went to lean in to continue the kiss, but was stopped when Gojo asked another question.

"This is to get me used to the idea of wearing a wedding band, isn't it?" He said with a knowing smirk on his face.

"Wha-why would y-you say th-that?" Kitagawa sputtered as her eyes darted nervously, not thinking that her line of thought would be discovered and revealed so soon. He just chuckled quietly as he placed the adorned hand on her face. He held it still as he leaned down for a silencing kiss.

"I will. At some point." he offered simply when he pulled away again, thumb brushing her rosy cheeks.

"That's all I ask for." Kitagawa grinned.

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It was another month later and Kitagawa had a short workday planned out for her. There were plans to head home early because Gojo also had a short day ahead of him. Well, short enough. He had more classes after five, but he had a window of time around three. Their schedules had become fairly out of wack between the classes and the photo shoots, so they wanted to make the most of this opportunity. Which really just summed up to Gojo coming home and making dinner with an hour of watching shows or gaming before he had to leave again. As Kitagawa was wrapping up getting her normal outfit on, she received a text from Gojo.

Hubby <3<3<3] I'm out of class right now. I need to stop by the store before I head home however because I don't think we have enough dumpling wrappers for gyoza. Could you do me a favor when you get home and chop the vegetables that we have and defrost the meat?

She sent back a sticker of a rabbit saying okay and left the studio. Now back inside their apartment, she made a beeline for the bathroom and dug out a previously worn samue top and replaced the shirt she was wearing with it. She made it back to the kitchen and took the meat out of the freezer to let it thaw on the counter. After she gathered up the vegetables, she prepped them and started cutting, getting lost in the rhythm of the work. Nearing the end of the green onion she was chopping, she heard the door open.

Gojo? You're back already?" She cleaned her hands and went to see him at the door. As she turned the corner, she was stopped in her tracks at noticing a familiar black hoodie that he was wearing.

"Notice something Kitagawa?" Gojo said in a clearly playful and passive aggressive tone. He removed the strap connected to his duffle bag and let it drop unceremoniously to the floor.

"Uhhh... maybe?' she replied, her voice ticking upward several notches.

"You want to know how my day went?" Gojo continued, still in the same tone of voice, "My day was interesting, to say the least. I found out early this morning, that every time my girlfriend comes over to my dorm, she's somehow been maliciously stealing my samue tops and replacing them with the shirt she was wearing at the time." He said as he passed her and rounded the corner with some grocery bags to shove them onto the counter.

"Someone also thought it would be funny to put the hoodie that was never supposed to leave the apartment into my bag of clothes for the week. Which, if you can't tell where this is going, means that I had no shirts with my only option of tops for today being either a woman's top that is mostly likely too small for me or the sexy hoodie that was never supposed to see the light of day." He rapidly stalked over to her and grabbed at her waist before she could make her getaway.

"I had people giggling at me the entire day at college! I got yelled at by old ladies! Three different old ladies yelled at me and called me a prude!" Gojo began a vicious tickle attack on his girlfriend as punishment for the treatment he had been receiving all day. Kitagawa was rendered useless and disarmed as she helplessly fought a losing battle against his experienced hands.

"I had some guy on the train ask me who the anime character on my hoodie was and where I bought it! I had to tell him it was my girlfriend and when I did, he scoffed and said 'Yeah right. Guys like us don't get girlfriends.' It took me showing him my home screen and the bracelet for it to get through his dense head!" The attack never let up as he continued to berate her with his precise, wriggling fingers. Kitagawa started to feel lightheaded as she had a hard time taking in oxygen.

"Di-didn't I l-leave one o-of my m-en's si-sized sh-irts ov-over there?" She found it difficult to speak as she was still being tickled. Miraculously, Gojo stopped as he processed what Kitagawa was trying to say. Letting her have a moment to breathe again, he walked over to the duffle bag left at the door and rummaged around looking for a sign of what she had said.

"Aaaugh, I'm an idiot." Gojo groaned as he pulled out a shirt he recognized as having a men's design on it. Leaning for support against a corner of the wall, Kitagawa slowly gained the ability to speak again.

"Almost makes me wonder if you wanted to wear it out in public." She joked dangerously as she gasped. Gojo turned and started daggers through her soul.

"Alright, that is it." He snarled. He ran back to her and lifted her up into a princess carry. Using one hand, he pulled back the hem of the samue she stole that hadn't gone unnoticed by Gojo, and began to blow massive raspberries into her stomach. Sending her into another fit of laughter, she didn't notice until it was too late when he dropped her onto an open space on the counter. Moving to stand in between her legs, he continued his assault of raspberries while Kitagawa shrieked and squirmed while trying to knee him in the ribs. Another moment of relentless tickling passed and Gojo could feel the slapping against his shoulders start to make their intention clear. He lifted his head up to see Kitagawa's face before him.

Flushed red as a bright cherry with unfocused eyes and gasping for air, it was a familiar sight to him. He could feel himself flush a little in response, but decided to keep the angry act up.

"Well? Do you feel like apologizing?" Gojo smirked as he loomed above Kitagawa.

"If I say yes, will you let me breathe?" She gasped out tiredly.

"Only if you really mean it." He muttered into her belly, planting little suckling kisses while it twitched. Kitagawa giggled as her hands drifted to his hair.

"There might be a problem then." She moaned lightly as she felt the attention her midsection was getting, wishing that type of care was placed in other areas on her.

"Guess I'll just have to find other ways of making you pay, now won't I?" A small groan was muffled as he felt the heat of her exertion radiate through her skin.

It was still very cold outside and she felt oh so warm now. A hand came up and tugged on the tie holding the panels of the top together and used his hands to bunch up the sides of it to pull the panels away from each other. Opening up the stolen shirt, he could see that there was only a plain white bra under it. Using the grip on the shirt, he slid her down the counter's edge and used the opportunity to kiss a path up her stomach. Kitagawa moaned louder as she felt Gojo lick a strip in between her breasts, feeling the tip dig under the border of the fabric.

"I thought you were going to make dinner, Gojo?" Kitagawa goaded as her hands betrayed her thoughts, carding and tugging pleasantly on his short locks of hair.

"Dinner? I've got a juicy rabbit roast right here." His head continued up to her shoulder where he bit and pulled on the strap of her bra, letting it snap back on her skin.

"And use my first name." Wakana growled hotly into the spot where the strap landed. Marin rolled her body into the attention, not feeling guilty in the slightest for what she had done.

[jasontoddiefor]

Yeah sure we’ve all binged a long fic, but have you ever read a WIP and followed someone’s life?

Tidbits of information - (“I graduated today!”) - and small joys (“It’s my birthday!”) and you get to be there to say “This chapter made me cry, happy birthday, thank you for gifting us this”.

I remember reading this fic of someone at the end of high school, older than me then. They seemed infinitely wise, spoke of their future career and getting into the college they wanted. I remember them posting on days they felt like nothing could bring them down - and on days the whole world did and it’s the aftermath of a hospital visit. Cancer, I think it was, their father. I got to the end of the story, I know their father was fine, but also they got to finish their WIP. I graduated three years later than them, still dutifully wrote thank you notes in every comment. I wonder if they remember me, or just the collective of people reading the story as it updates.

Four years ago I was into my first year of university, my first year of figuring out being out in public spaces. I made excuses as to why my name didn’t match my paperwork and read a fic on the train, the same five chapters over and over again for the next years as I thought the story abandoned. It updated this week after such a long hiatus, I left another thank you comment.

There’s an author I love, they update their stories like a clockwork. When they don’t, I check their blog, just to see if their doing alright, not because I feel like they owe me, just to ensure whether I better get out my laptop to write that really detailed university level essay chapter analysis to get them smiling when their day sucked.

And then, once, when I was 17, I read a fic that hadn’t updated in over a decade. I wasn’t even in primary school when it started posting. On the last chapter, I left a comment that, in retrospect, was horribly rambly and most likely full of grammar mistakes. The author replied and though I couldn’t see their face, I thought of them crying. They were married now, had children, and hadn’t thought about this fic in years. They went through their files again, found another half written chapter and an outline. I got two new chapters to read that year.

And then, recently, someone told me they got back into writing original fiction because of my comments. I get to read nearly weekly chapters.

I love binge reading a finished fic, but nothing is ever going to top the feeling of anticipation of waiting for a chapter, the pure joy when someone tells you I was done with this, but you made me think of it again, so this is for you.

Anyway, I think we should romanticize reading WIPs more, growing up alongside the authors writing the stories we love.

[mellosdrawings]

Illu for the most recent chapter of Look Upon The Light in collab with @aria-faye

Go check it out if you haven't yet!

I just... like this illu... too much. I need more OB boys shenanigans. I need more of them bonding.

Best Idia I've ever drawn. Ultimate mood.

[pa1nrema1ns]

Master and Apprentice || Sung Jin-woo (Part 1 of 3)

Siren!Jin-woo x Deaf!Omega!reader

A/N - Hello everyone! This fic was inspired by the lovely @forbidden-sunlight's siren!au. We both collaborated on this piece and it serves as a direct sequel to her imagine, so do be sure to check it out first! This story picks up right where her imagine left off.

╰┈➤ Chapter Index

🪸 Prequel by @forbidden-sunlight 🌊 Part 2: Two Intertwining Melodies 🦈Part 3: In a Sea of Fire

Content warnings: 18+ MDNI, mythical creatures au, canon divergent, a/b/o dynamics, afab!reader, suggestive themes, obsessive thoughts, slightly ooc Jin-woo (he's very reverent towards Ashborn), mentions of violence, death, and despair, forbidden romance (humans and sirens are natural enemies), eventual yandere!Jin-woo.

Word Count - 3.6k

Summary - Sung Jin-woo seeks answers about his potential mate from Ashborn in the deepest depths of the abyss.

Dividers by @anitalenia and @firefly-graphics

After what feels like an eternity, Jin-woo comes to an abrupt stop. He wasn’t tired in the slightest, but he couldn’t finish this journey unless he was in the right frame of mind. If he was going to face the sea monarch, Ashborn, then he needed to compose himself. He was his mentor’s prized disciple, after all.

Resolute in his decision, Jin-woo pinches his brow, shuts his eyes, and releases a deep, suffering sigh. He had to stop ruminating over the useless ‘what ifs’ of his current situation and focus on the matter at hand. You emitting pheromones in his presence was proof enough that you were a compatible mate, but this would be meaningless if you were unreceptive to him. It also begs the question, was humanity even capable of consorting with sirens? In search of an answer, he reminisces about the tales of old passed down by generations of his kin, as well as the many speculations made by humans.

No one knew the exact origins of his species. Most humans assumed the progenitors were Persephone’s handmaidens, punished by Demeter after Hades had taken her daughter to the underworld and forced her into becoming his queen. Some stories also claimed that seafoam  birthed them, but Jin-woo scoffed at this particularly ridiculous rumor. A scholar had recently published an article on how sirens may actually be the offspring of the river deity Achelous and a divine songstress, citing notations from various mythos on this theory. In truth, reality was far simpler than any of these far-fetched narratives.

There was just no definitive explanation for the existence of sirens. They were not interchangeable with the peaceful denizens of the ocean, known as mermaids and mermen. While all fell under the umbrella of the term ‘merfolk,’ the sirens had a far more hostile and bloodstained relationship with humans.

Since time immemorial, his brethren were viewed as nothing but a scourge upon this world of humanity. Beautiful as a raging typhoon and every bit as devastating, the sirens served as harbingers of doom and destruction for those foolish enough to risk the perilous waters. Their heavenly voices were tantamount to the funeral dirges used to usher the dead into the afterlife. It would be understandable to believe that the sirens were the monsters in this baleful story. However, human nature at its core is fraught with wickedness, and men soon grew wise to the machinations of merfolk.

Odysseus was the first to survive an encounter with sirens. During his voyage to Ithaca, the cunning man had instructed his crew to plug their ears with beeswax, effectively blocking the intoxicating songs that had ended the lives of so many before them. Emboldened by the success of Odysseus’s scheme, other sailors began using this method to conquer the sea and establish trade routes. Within a matter of a couple hundred years, humans not only overcame their fear of sirens, but they also poached them. Huntsmen would capture, torture, and kill Jin-woo’s ancestors simply for crossing paths with them. Worse yet, these scoundrels would often murder merfolk solely to harvest their organs, bones, and scales. They would then use the defiled corpses as ingredients for commodities, medication, and even aphrodisiacs. It was truly grotesque, if not outright barbaric, and more than justified the ire his kind felt towards humanity. While they hunted for the noble sake of survival, men did it for bloodsport and money.

The horrific fates suffered by many of their beloved brothers and sisters particularly infuriated the alphas, with their robust constitutions and natural sense of leadership. With a thirst for vengeance, they began targeting and attacking ships, ports, and even beaches. The alphas considered any place or vehicle that harbored humans as eligible targets. The less temperamental betas remained neutral and avoided the bloodshed, opting to prey upon shoals of fish and other maritime animals instead. Omegas could not join in the hunt, as they were far too precious to lose. They were the most cherished and talented singers amongst the sirens and required around-the-clock protection because of their significant rarity. These were the origins of the current hierarchical structure Jin-woo adhered to.

After recalling the tumultuous history of his people in its entirety, Jin-woo clenches his fists until his knuckles turn white. This was so damn frustrating! Rather than granting him an understanding of his attraction, it just proved all the more why it was so illogical. 

Defeated, Jin-woo raises his head, opens his eyes, and continues to swim.

Another hour passes before he finds himself at the ingress of Ashborn’s lair. His enigmatic teacher lived in almost complete obscurity. Devoid of any light, and enveloped by a suffocating aura, this nautical cavern intimidated all who dared to approach it. Well, almost all that is apart from Jin-woo. He effortlessly permeates the invisible barrier designed to keep intruders at bay and ventures into his master’s spiritual domain.

Despite being an ancient and powerful king of the sea, Ashborn made the strange decision to emulate a land-like environment in his personal chambers.

As Jin-woo manifests into the realm, his appearance gives way to a form more befitting of a land dweller. His tail separates into two legs, his scales smoothen into skin, and he loses the winged fins on his ears and back. Once finished with this metamorphosis, Jin-woo takes a deep breath. Fresh pine, grass, and flowers perfume the air as he’s greeted by a lush valley. It had been a while since he had visited, and the setting had required him to transform into a human. Interestingly, transfiguration was one of the first skills Ashborn taught him. Speaking of his mentor –

“My disciple, it is good to see you again, though you appear…troubled. Tell me, what ails you so?” A rumbling voice rings across the horizon, signaling Ashborn’s approach; the tenebrous essence of the powerful deity contrasting with the greenery of the land. He appears in front of Jin-woo as a great dark knight. Much like his surroundings, Ashborn’s current visage was nothing but an illusion. Even the bravest of warriors said that his lifelike image invoked sheer terror in their hearts.

Many speculate he possesses a massive stature, at least several leagues in height and breadth alone, with piercing eyes and endless tendrils of dark hair. Others claim he is the son of Poseidon, one of the twelve Olympians, and a God of destruction who presided over the sea. However, Jin-woo never once witnessed this side of his teacher in all the years he’s been under his mentorship. Ashborn certainly exuded dignity, but he still displayed a humble attitude. And without fail, he would always appear in that strange, armored suit whenever he was in Jin-woo’s presence.

“My teacher, I must ask for your help on an urgent matter,” Jin-woo starts, anxiously running his tongue across his bottom lip. “This morning, while I was scavenging, I stumbled across the unmistakable aroma of an unmarked omega. It…it was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. As if I was being beckoned by someone or something. I wanted, no, I needed to heed its call.”

Ashborn listens in silence, his expression indiscernible. Jin-woo continued.

 “When I arrived, I was in front of a monstrosity of a ship – a yacht right by the sandbanks. At first, I assumed that someone had taken an unfortunate siren captive. But when I finally saw her–”

“You recognized she was human. Not only that, but she belongs to the lowest level of the hierarchy, an omega. Speak if I am wrong, my dear pupil.” Jin-woo lowers his head in shame, fringe obscuring his eyes. This action all but confirms it.

“I don’t know what to do or how to proceed, teacher. Everything I’ve learned about these creatures has made me detest them. But I can’t bring myself to hate her. How could this even be possible? We are not even of the same species. She’s my enemy, my prey…. At least, she’s supposed to be.” His voice lowers into a near whisper as he ends his confused rambling.

“And yet you don’t view her that way, do you child?” Ashborn poses a question he already knows the answer to but needs to hear in his pupil’s own words.

“No, I don’t,” Jin-woo replies grimly. “I yearn to know more about her. And not just that. I want to meet her, court her, and make her mine. If she’ll even have me, that is… So please, teacher, tell me if there is any meaning behind what I feel. Am I destined for something that bears no place in reality?”

Ashborn remains uncharacteristically quiet while faced with such a loaded question. All is eerily silent for a few moments, save for the cheerful chirping of the illusionary songbirds. At last, the monarch gazes at Jin-woo and gives him the answer he so desperately desires.

“It is entirely possible Sung Jin-woo, alpha of Jindo island, for I am proof of such a fantastical circumstance. My first and only love was also a human omega. A woman I devoted my entire being to over a millennium ago.”

Jin-woo’s eyes widened in shock at this revelation. His mentor had fallen in love at some point, and it was with a member of the human race? This was unheard of.

“I never knew you had a lover,” Jin-woo murmurs softly. “What was she like? Do you still remember everything about her after so many years?”

“Let me show you, my disciple. It is a tragic tale that words alone cannot properly convey.” With a wave of Ashborn’s hand, their surroundings began to morph and alter. The valley transforms into a spacious, yet quaint medieval village composed of several wooden houses with a bustling marketplace at its center.

When Jin-woo regains his bearings, he notices his mentor has also metamorphosized. A man with a sun kissed complexion, long dark hair, and a beard stands where he once stood. Though visibly unrecognizable, he was unmistakably Ashborn. A crimson cape was clasped to the pristine silver armor he wore. A paladin. Jin-woo recalls. He had some knowledge of the past lives of men through his rare excursions onto the Mainland. While disguised as a human, Jin-woo once traded in his goods for a textbook on history. He was loath to admit just how intriguing he had found it.

Ashborn speaks, his voice no longer resonating within the confines of shadowy steel.

“It was here in this village that I came across her. She was the only daughter of a peasant farmer. A strong-willed, rapscallion of a woman with a wit sharper than any blade. I can remember her beauty, her warmth, and her tenacity as clear and concise as the day we met.” He says with a wistful gaze. The scene then shifts to a woman in a pure white gown. Her eyes remained hidden, but it did nothing to impede upon her loveliness. The woman runs animatedly towards a man who looks identical to Ashborn’s borrowed likeness and leaps into his arms. The man then effortlessly spins her around before bringing her into a kiss. Jin-woo watches on, mesmerized by what was unfolding in front of him.

“I feared her rejection once she knew the truth of my identity,” Ashborn admits. “On the night we first made love, I finally revealed to her my status as ruler of the sea. However, it did not matter. She loved me wholly and unconditionally, regardless of who or what I was. Such was the strength of her resolve.” In the next instance, they return to the same valley from earlier. What differs this time is that the man and woman are there, unacknowledging of Jin-woo and Ashborn’s presence. Lost in their own special world. The woman has a flower crown on her head, and she sits on the grass, holding the man’s head in her lap. Both appear happy and at ease.

“For the first time in my existence, I experienced true contentment. I long to return to those days, but alas, our bliss did not last.”

Ashborn solemnly shuts his eyes as darkness overtakes the sky and rain falls. The man is now shown standing at a grave with an expression of anguish marring his face. The woman is nowhere to be seen, although Jin-woo knows exactly where she’s at.

“A plague was scourging the land and indiscriminately ending the lives of thousands. I tried to protect her with my magic, but it was to no avail. She fell gravely ill despite my best efforts. I discovered shortly thereafter that omegas were more susceptible to sickness than their contemporaries. If I had known beforehand, I would’ve brought her to the sea with me, away from that damned disease. But I was a fool who was willing to love and live with her as a man, not as a king. And as punishment for my hubris, an ailment snuffed out her life.”

At the end of his recollection, Ashborn’s lair returns to its original state. His mentor had also regained his shadowy exterior. The valley appears completely untouched by time, as if it were still one thousand years in the past. That’s why his lair looks like this. Jin-woo thinks as he finally recognizes its significance, It was their personal sanctuary. After a few moments of silence, Ashborn speaks.

“Although our circumstances are similar, you still have the privilege of choice. I cannot turn back time, nor can I change the past, but I am grateful. I experienced unspeakable grief, yes, but I also would have never encountered such love, tenderness, and passion had I not taken a chance on my omega. You, my disciple, still have free rein over your decision. Should you choose to pursue this woman, you have my blessing and irrefutable proof that she is a viable mate for you. If not, you will still receive my unwavering support in your future endeavors. The choice is yours to make.”

Jin-woo’s throat bobs. He feels an incredible sense of guilt at unearthing his master’s secret.

“My teacher, I apologize for prying into your past. I – I did not mean to bring up painful memories for you. I cannot imagine what you have endured. As of right now, I am not sure what it is I want, but I know for a fact I cannot give up on this human. I will need some time to contemplate and sort out my feelings. If you will excuse me.”

Jin-woo bows his head before turning to take his leave. As he approaches the exit, a sudden thought emerges at the forefront of his mind.

“Teacher, there is one more question I must ask. This human, she does not speak with words. She communicates with her hands and gestures. Is this some type of sorcery or spell that she’s casting?”

“It is most likely sign language, a manner of non-verbal communication used by humans who are unable to vocalize or hear. Perhaps she cannot speak, or has a hearing impairment, so she must express herself through other means.” Ashborn answers, curiosity lacing his voice.

Jin-woo feels his heart sinking. A siren’s serenade played a pivotal role in the mating ritual and was performed just prior to consummating an eternal bond. If what Ashborn said is true, then there is a possibility you could be immune to his song. This meant he wouldn't be able to use it on you when the time came…

He grits his teeth as he remembers your smiling face. Try as he might, Jin-woo just could not get you out of his head, nor was he willing to let you escape his grasp. You may not have realized it yet, but you had unknowingly sunk your fangs into him and the seeds of obsession were already beginning to take root. Rather than being discouraged by Ashborn’s observation, he instead finds himself reinvigorated.

“Teacher, disregard everything I said earlier. I now know what it is I must do.”

Ashborn peers into the eyes of his disciple, relieved by the determination that lights them. This was much more like the obstinate young man he knew.

“I choose to seek this omega and stake my claim, no matter what challenges may await the two of us,” Jin-woo proclaims proudly. “I will make her mine, but only if she consents to my proposal. And if not through song, then through other courtship methods. I am strong, stronger than any other alpha in my territory, and I know I can protect her from all who would wish her harm. I won’t let my mate slip through my fingers.”

“But what of maladies and the passage of time? You can fight against gods and monsters until the end of your days, but sickness or her ephemeral lifespan will not spare this young woman. In the end, your time with her shall be fleeting.” Ashborn ruthlessly counters Jin-woo’s declaration of protection.

Jin-woo bites his lip, not expecting this development. However, before he can muster a response, his mentor graces him with an answer.

“I know of one way you can overcome this. There is a recipe for an elixir known as the Holy Water of Life. It is a miraculous potion that can imbue invulnerability to communicable diseases, extend lifespan, and transform the consumer into a siren. I unfortunately did not have knowledge of such a panacea while I was with my love. Of course, I live with the regret of not discovering it sooner, as now I have no such use for it, but this does not mean I will idly stand by and let history repeat itself with my protégé.”

With a flash of light, an ancient scroll appears in front of Jin-woo. It unravels by itself to reveal its contents to him. Jin-woo’s eyes widen as he reads. Is this…?

“Behold. The ingredients for crafting the Holy Water of Life. I bequeath this boon unto you, my disciple. However, heed my warning as the acquisition of these components requires you to conquer all 100 floors of the Demon’s Castle and to defeat its king, Baran. This is a treacherous dungeon that may claim your life if you are unprepared for it, but it can also impart you with unspeakable power should you prevail.”

Jin-woo perks up at this information, his interest now fully piqued. “Tell me, master, where can I find the Demon’s Castle?”

“It hides far away, in the city of Seoul, within an incorporeal dominion. It is a flame-ridden landscape that will require you to assume the form of a human to enter the castle. Knowing all the risks it entails; do you still accept my offer?”

“I do,” Jinwoo confidently states.

“Very well,” Ashborn nods his assent, and a key materializes into Jin-woo’s palm.

“Use this key to open the gate to the Demon’s Castle. I have also implanted it with the coordinates to the dungeon’s location. You need only close your eyes and grasp onto the key to visualize it.”

Following the instructions, Jin-woo sees a map that details the exact distance from his current whereabouts to the metropolitan area of Seoul. It will be a lengthy trip, even with his impressive swimming prowess. He estimates it will take roughly half a day to arrive at his destination. Undeterred, Jin-woo presses onward.

“Teacher, I cannot thank you enough for all your help and guidance over these last few years. I give you my word; I will return alive and well, both with the elixir and Baran’s head. And then I will meet with the omega and court her in earnest.”

He departs without another word, although his promise relays an unspoken farewell between them. After some time passes, Ashborn stares at the vast skies of his domain and muses to himself.

“You have grown so much from when I rescued you from the Cartenon Temple all those years ago, Sung Jin-woo. I could not be prouder of you, my disciple. Till our next encounter.”

12 hours later...

Jin-woo finally emerges from the dark, briny waters that frame Seoul’s coastline.

After leaving Ashborn’s lair, he briefly returned home to pack and prepare for the journey ahead. Both Jin-ah and his mother were worried about his sudden departure, so he did the best he could to assuage their fears by giving them a sanitized version of the truth.

Jin-woo claimed Ashborn had provided him with a list of rare ingredients that were only available for purchase in the human markets at Seoul. He even promised to bring back a box of chocolates as a souvenir, something his mother and little sister had enjoyed during one of his return trips to the surface. He then traveled the full 413-kilometer distance from Jindo-gun to Seoul, stopping only for a few hours to rest and recuperate.

As he approaches land, he assumes the form of a naked human man and walks inland from the sea. However, Jin-woo comes to a halt when he becomes more aware of his current state of nudity. While it didn’t bother him, it would cause a lot of unnecessary trouble if any nosy beachgoers happened upon him and asked questions. It is also…pretty embarrassing to admit that he is…wobbly on these legs. Very much so.

He quickly summons his magical inventory and grabs a simple black t-shirt, boxers, fitted jeans, and athletic sneakers (‘Adidas’, the portly sales attendant had called them). As worthless as he found human decorum to be, Jin-woo needed to remain as inconspicuous as possible while he was in disguise. Once dressed, he strolled into the city. After 45 minutes, he found himself at the designated street junction on the map. Taking a deep breath, he brings forth the key, turns it, and unlocks the gate. 

⚓︎ To be continued...

[painlandpalace]

dead boy detectives reading list

with the show finally out i figured it was a great time to share my reading list again! check it out below the cut 👻☠️🔎

-

⏳ the sandman #25 (1991)

this is their first appearance!

🐇 the children's crusade (1993)/free country: a tale of the children's crusade (2015)

1. the children's crusade #1

(2. black orchid annual #1

3. animal man annual #1

4. swamp thing annual #7

5. doom patrol annual #2

6. arcana annual #1)

7. the children's crusade #2

alternatively you can just read free country. whether or not you read the annuals i recommend reading free country's middle chapter

!!! in place of the annuals there is an additional middle chapter that was created for the book "free country: a tale of the children's crusade" where it is placed between the two children's crusade issues. the boys don't actually appear in most of the annuals (they are in two panels of swamp thing and appear in doom patrol) and reading them isn't necessary but i figured i would include them as they are part of the story.

❄️ winter's edge #3 (2000)

this is an anthology. their part is the 'books of magic: waiting for good dough' story starting on page 19

🐦‍⬛ the sandman presents: the dead boy detectives (2001, 4 issues)

i believe the tv show's esther finch was partially based on this run's villain.

*

(they do have a part in 'death: at death's door' from 2003. it's short and really just a retelling of events from sandman #25 with some minor changes. the entirety of their appearance in death: at death's door is included at the end of the next comic im listing so i am not really adding the death: at death's door book to the list)

☠️ the dead boy detectives (2005, one-shot)

this book was made by jill thompson in a very cute manga-esque style

👻 ghosts (2012), time warp (2013), the witching hour (2013)

these three are anthologies. the story 'the dead boy detectives in: run ragged' runs through all of them. 'run ragged' kicks off the next run.

🔮 from the pages of the sandman: dead boy detectives (2013, 12 issues)

this is the comic where crystal is introduced! a book collecting all 12 issues titled 'dead boy detectives by toby litt & mark buckingham' was released in 2023

🔎the sandman universe: dead boy detectives (2022, 6 issues)

the most recent run, centered around some really interesting thai mythology and featuring multiple edwin moments that i am sure you will love

-

and that's everything! i also recommend buying the omnibus if you can. it includes everything minus the 2022 run plus some additional bonus content!

i hope this is helpful! feel free to ask me any questions you may have about the comics. dead boy detectives is my number one interest so i should be able to answer

have fun reading! 👻

[highbookwormofthecentury]

NOOO I REMEMBER THE CYAN PANTS THING UGHHH

NEVER LET THIS MAN NEAR A CLOSET

Bro needs to reveal his identity simply so the Ninja can help him figure out his outfits

plot twist: they all have different styles so the outfit they concoct for Lloyd is even worse than Lloyd’s own trademark horrible outfits

I fully blame @secretly-an-automaton for introducing me to heroforge, but I have used heroforge to model Luh-Lloyd from the hit fanfiction, Luh-Lloyd Ninjabuse!

We have Lloyd "secret ninja Green" Garmadon

and Lloyd "fashion criminal" Garmadon

(re. this abominable outfit; those of you who know, know.)

this was mainly for fun, and so I can have easy drawing references

[mangoisms]

OKAY. so. lots has been going on. i'm going to be trying to finish ck this week and then do my additions over the weekend. and then of course. the editing. after that, i'm gonna move back to wwt and i think i will be wanting to go ahead and mass post that. not all in one day but updates each day, just to. get it all out. so i'll be proofing and finalizing.

its gonna be a lot so if anyone just wants to wait to read until i finish posting each chapter. honestly. probably for the best. there is quite a bit left so i might do two chapters per day or something just 'cause i really do want to get it all out LOL.

but that's still not going to be until i finish ck, so there will be your regular update on sunday with chapter 5. after that, we'll see, because next up we have frmb and for that...

i am strongly considering combining chapter 21 and chapter 22. they're both roughly 4k and i don't think anyone will mind another 8k chapter and i think it would flow more smoothly to keep it together, that way no one has to wait, since they cluster together pretty closely in terms of days/what's going on (if that makes any sense). nothing else changes in terms of updates, it's just what is likely going to happen, so we'll be dropping down from 43 total chapters to 42 in that case

for my current tim fic, nothing will be changing. i'll be updating as normal on fridays and my current tim fic i'm working on won't be posted until that one is complete. hopefully, when all is said and done, as in i finish and edit ck, i get wwt proofed and ready for mass posting, i can finally work on eof. kind of nervy about it but its ok its gonna be so fun.

so!! that's what's going on rn

[caotictimmy]

Chapter 1: Oh my dear lamb, your heart is to big for you… (Madoka magica!reader)

Authors note: I know someone also posted a Madoka magica! Reader to. I promise our stories will be quite different (and very good! Please check their story out!!) anyways finally posted the first chapter. Please send requests or asks about this!!! Not proof read we die like almost every magical girl.

You weren’t special by any means.

You’ve known this for a while. You weren’t as athletic as Dick. You weren’t as intelligent as Damien. Hell, you weren’t really great at anything. You were good, but you weren’t great. There was something you were good at, hell even great. No one else in that family could ever come close to . Love. You were a creature of love at heart. Kindness overflowed from your mouth, seeping into anything around you. Most thought that was a gift. A kind heart, with only the purest intentions. The bat family didn’t though.

They all thought you were weak. You weren’t cut out to be a hero. You weren’t strong, you weren’t incredibly smart, you didn’t have any powers. You’re nothing like them. Would your kindness be able to save someone from a joker attack? Would your big heart be able to rescue people from a burning building? It wouldn’t. You just aren’t special like them, and you had to live with that fact every single day of your life. That you would never compare to anything, especially your family.

But you wanted to be like them so bad… You wanted to be able to save people like them. You wanted to be like them so desperately that you even tried to train yourself, but it wasn’t very affective… You kept accidentally hurting yourself one way or another, whether that be by accidentally cutting yourself while trying to train with a sword, to tumbling to the ground trying to practice defending yourself.

You felt so isolated from them. They were supposed to be your family. You felt like you invaded their space, like you didn’t belong there. It didn’t help that they could barely spare you a glance. Let alone have a conversation with you, even just a simple hello from Jason would surprise you.

It was like you were a ghost in the manor, more like an angle. You would do your best to help around, clean a room. Leave Advil out for Tim after an all nighter he had. Leave reminder notes of positivity. Drawing heart, flowers, and smiley faces all of the little sticky notes. You would always do these little things for them, but they never noticed. They never noticed your effort, never noticed your support. They never noticed you.

The silence in there was especially unnerving in your bedroom. It was always just to quiet in there. You never really believed in “so quiet you could hear a pin drop.”, well not until you had to stay in the eerie room. You often had to hold yourself at night. Trying to act like one of them was there. There when the shadows of your room loomed over you. It felt like the darkness was gonna eat you alive in that room.

Alfred told you they were just busy, some even a bit jealous that you got to live a normal life. You never understood why they would be jealous though. You would kill to be able to be like them. Famous hero’s , one that sends villains shivers down their spine and a warm feeling to civilians. Who would want to give that up to well.. be you. You weren’t able to save people like they could. You couldn’t fight like they could. You weren’t even that athletic. So why would they be jealous of you?

You were walking back from a friend’s house. You didn’t wanna bother their parents with asking for a ride home, and Alfred was already busy. It was quite nice outside so you didn’t mine walking home. The only problem though was how the sun was starting to set. It was scary being out alone in Gotham, and the recent joker attacks didn’t help making Gotham’s streets safe. You knew you would have to start taking alleyways if you wanted to make it home before it was completely dark and cold outside. You pull your jacket closer to you, trying to preserve more heat.

You were about to turn a corner into one of the alleyways back home, but then you heard a small whimper in the alley. You paused for a moment. Stilling to try and see if you could catch the sound again. Then another pleading whimper coming from the alley way. You take a deep breath. This could be your moment! You can be someone’s night and shining armor!

You ball your fist up, getting ready to attack if you need to (thought it really wouldn’t do any good.) you quickly turn the corner. “W-who goes there!” You stutter out, the anxiety clear in your voice. You soon stop in your tracks. The wounded..alien cat? It’s white fur now matted with a deep bloody red. It’s what looked like ears coming out of its ears sadly dropping on the ground.”O-oh my god! I’m so sorry are you ok.” You quickly rush to the bleeding cat’s side. Gently scooping it up in your arms.

“Hey hey now.. it’s ok! I’m gonna help alright. I’m not gonna let anything hurt you.” You said to the poor creature. Taking your jacket off and wrapping it around it. You were still freezing and would probably catch a cold, but at least you’re not bleeding out! You stumble to get up. Who knows what hurt the cat, or if it’s still lurking around.

You braced the odd creature closer to you before booking it. You’ve never ran faster in your life, but it wasn’t much problem keeping the same speed with the feeling of someone watching you, practically tracking you. No matter how much your lungs hurt. No matter how much your heart rattled against your ribcage. You ran for your and it’s life.

You closed the door of the mansion as fast as you could. No only were you glad to be out of the freezing cold, but also glad that whatever was CERTAINLY following you couldn’t get in. “It’s ok..kitty”, you hesitantly say, not wanting to offend it by calling it the wrong species. “You are in good care!”, you proudly say.

You walked as quietly as you could to the downstairs bathroom closest to the bat cave. They always kept a first aid or two under the sink. You open the door. The old wood groaning in protest. You gently set the little thing on the counter. Grabbing one of the first aid kits from under the sink.

“Hey kitty this is gonna hurt…”, you softly muttered, mostly to yourself to get yourself ready to clean its wounds. You applied the rubbing alcohol on the cotton pad. Starting to softly dab it against its wounds. You were surprised to see it not phased at all. “Wow you’re better at pain than I am.”, you giggled. Trying your best to keep the atmosphere lighthearted.

You quickly finish cleaning the poor space kitties wounds. Soon bandaging them up. It looked kind of sloppy, and probably wasn’t the best, but it worked. Keeping it from dying is all you cared about.

Now not rushed with the thought of loosing this new hopefully friend, you were able to step back and analyze how the creature looked. It had a pink ring on an its back, contrasting against the white fur. It also had what looked like droopy ears. The drooping appendages coming out of the ears also had some pink tint with some golden rings around he to floppy maybe ears. It looked exactly like a plushie, one that came to life! That would be so cool if your stuffed animals could come to life! You wouldn’t be lonely and would have people to talk to!

You quickly catch yourself from being stuck in thought. You have to focus on the task on hand! Looking at it, you can tell it must be tired, especially after loosing all that blood. You scooped the alien cat back into your arms, it was still silent, but you could tell it’s feeling much better. You quietly shut the door of the bathroom. Tip toeing up the manors stairs and into your room.

“Sorry my bed isn’t really big. My dad’s really busy and I don’t wanna bother him to ask for a new one.”, you whispered. Swallowing the lump in your throat just thinking about your father. You tucked the alien by your plushies, still wrapped in your warm jacket. Now it really looked like a plushie! “It’s my bedtime alien kitty. I’ll see you tomorrow,”, you said cheerfully. So happy to finally be able to talk to someone.

You don’t know what time it is, all you know that it’s storming outside and it’s extremely dark. You feel your hairs stand on the back of your neck. You felt that stalked sensation again. You were being watched. You would take a guest and say it was from your window, but you were way too scared to look up. Then you heard her.

“Listen to me, don’t trust the incubator. Don’t make a wish. Do you hear me. Get rid of him, get rid of that thing as fast as you can. Do it for your family and friends. Whatever you do, DON’T become a magical girl...”, her voice was cold but robotic, like she’s said it over and over again. You were now beyond terrified. You don’t wanna even know what was outside by your window, you grab your blankets as you shake in terror. What did you get yourself into… Maybe the family was right. Your heart was too big for you.

Authors note: I might have forgotten about this draft but it’s ok! It’s finally out and that’s what is most important.(forgot my tag list)

@princesscosmo

@linasrosetown

[bloojay28]

An incredibly good, well thought out title

Hey guys! I’m back with yet another bunch of drawing! These ones are actually traditional instead of digital though, as that’s how I do most of my art.

There is a new chapter to one of my new favorite fics, The Secrets In Our Quills!

For those of you who aren’t familiar with it, it’s an incredibly well written sonadow fanfiction that takes place after the events of Sonic movie 3. It’s very in character and very sweet, and I am absolutely eating it up.

I wasn’t feeling great this morning, and when the new chapter came out I felt way worse after reading it because my heart exploded about 50 times in a row. How dare the author be so good at this.

Anyways, if you haven’t already, I strongly suggest you go and check it out if you’re into that sort of thing!

Lots and lots of love to the author, Nebrasska! They are so, so talented!

The rest of this is just art based off of the most recent chapter so yeah

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

father. l Joel Miller

Summary: life decided to surprise you

Warnings: angst, sad, some fluff, anger, crying, worries, vomiting ; Ellie appears there, mention of pregnancy

A/N: ok so, i've been planning this for a while now, i hope you'll take this chapter well and have mercy on me. i'm waiting for your opinions. thank you

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

It was still early, the sun had only recently begun to slowly break through the curtains of your bedroom. The silence in the room was broken only by your steady breathing as you curled up in a deep sleep, unaware that Joel was no longer asleep.

He rested his head on his hand and watched you closely. The strands of your hair spilling over the pillow, he saw how your chest rose with your gentle breath, noticed the delicate movements of your body and felt your warmth.

God, he loved you so much, and at the same time he had been feeling a strange fear. It all started almost two weeks ago when he made himself some coffee in the morning, and after entering the kitchen you immediately ran to the bathroom.

"It must be yesterday's stew." You mumbled when your stomach had already calmed down, and Joel insisted that you should stay at home that day.

However, the situation repeated itself several times. Joel was on patrol at the time, but Ellie told him about it, warning him that you forbade her to tell anyone about it, especially Joel.

"It could be something serious." she mumbled, clearly concerned that she was breaking her promise to you. "I don't want anything to happen to her."

It worried him, and even more so because you pretended that there was no problem. Joel wasn't stupid, so he let every thought come to his mind, even the one that scared him the most.

"When was the last time you bled?"

You looked at him in surprise, fluffing the pillow. "What kind of question is that?"

He picked up the sheets from the ground that were supposed to go to the wash and shrugged. "I just wondered. Didn't you think that maybe..."

He noticed how you frowned and tensed up. Apparently you didn't let that thought get to you, but Joel did. He had been a father before, he knew perfectly well how pregnancy went and was a good observer.

"Maybe what?" you asked quietly.

"I think you might be pregnant." he finally said and you chuckled.

"Please." you snorted, "That's impossible."

"Why?" He put the sheets on the bed and rested his arms on his hips. "You're nauseous, more sleepy, your breasts...are bigger. Baby, have you considered that you could..."

"No!" you interrupted him firmly "I know pulling out isn't the best method of contraception, but we're careful." Joel raised his eyebrows and you groaned "Why do you even have to bring this up?" you sat down on the bed, burying your face in your hands.

"Sweetheart, I know it's hard..." he said, coming over and sitting next to you, he stroked your back slowly "But... I remember what it looked like, and now I see it on you. We should check it out and..."

"No!" you interrupted him abruptly and stood up unexpectedly "I'm not pregnant. It's just some stupid virus or something. I'm tired and that's all."

The tears that appeared in your eyes hurt him. The thought of pregnancy, of a child, was painful for him, but then he realized what you could feel. You knew about Sarah and that he had lost her. You had to find out since her name was in Tommy's house. However, you never talked about it, you never asked him about that life. And now...

You must have been terrified and you didn't allow yourself to think about this possibility at all.

The next few days passed by avoiding the topic. Joel knew that you were vomiting, although you tried to hide it. He saw how you were fighting sleep. You were so incredibly stubborn not to admit to yourself what he was trying to tell you. So he had to take matters into his own hands.

You slowly opened your eyes and stretched. You didn't even have time to greet him when three pregnancy tests appeared before your eyes.

"I got them on the last patrol." Joel announced "Please, just do it. If it's a virus, I'll leave you alone. I want to make sure you're safe."

You wanted to rebel, you wanted to talk him out of this stupid idea, but you gave in. It made no sense. So you disappeared into the bathroom for the longest five minutes of your lives.

Joel knew he'd never forget the look on your face when you opened the door. Your eyes were wide, and your face was filled with terror and shock. He'd barely taken the test from your hand when you'd slumped to the floor, tears streaming down your face.

All three were positive.

It was like a punch in the gut. He'd guessed that might be the case, but the reality had overwhelmed him.

"I can't, I can't, Joel..." you repeated as he stared at the result, unable to gather his thoughts, "God, what have I done!"

"Honey, it's not just you..." he said sitting down next to you and taking you in his arms, but nothing reached you.

No words from him, no comforting. You cried until you got tired and fell asleep again.

"A baby? You're having a baby?" Tommy looked at Joel in surprise "Wow! I mean... That's great, right?"

It was late. Jackson was shrouded in darkness when Joel appeared on his brother's porch. Despite the invitation, he didn't go inside, he was too shaken to even sit down.

Now that he had confessed to his brother what you had found out that morning, he felt the reality starting to creep in.

"I'm too old for this." he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief "I can't believe that.. Shit! Do you know what I put her through? I was stupid to think that I could have a normal life, that we could pretend that..."

"Fuck, Joel!" Tommy hissed, looking at him angrily "What are you talking about?! You love her!"

"So what?!" he snapped "That won't save her and...the baby."

He was furious. He clenched his hands on the porch railing, not even knowing what he expected. The strong need to throw it all away made Joel go to his brother, but he didn't support him. No, he told him that what he was so afraid of was wonderful.

"Would you marry her if the world was different?"

The question surprised him. He looked at Tommy, confused.

"It's a simple question." Tommy leaned back next to him and folded his arms over his chest. "Would you marry her? Would you like to have this child then?"

He slowly nodded.

"You think you don't deserve a normal life, but that's not true. You have the right to be happy, and she gives it to you. I'm sure she's scared too..."

"She's been crying nonstop since this morning, she hasn't eaten much…" Joel replied. "I'm scared, you know. I don't want to lose her… Her and the baby."

"When Maria was pregnant I was scared too. But we have a really good doctor in Jackson. We have the equipment."

Joel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt like Tommy had lifted some of the burden off his shoulders and filled his heart with a little hope.

"Please don't tell anyone in Jackson." he said finally. "Let's keep this between us for now."

"Sure." Tommy patted him on the back. "Of course, she won't be going on patrols anymore. I'll find someone else to take her place."

"Thanks."

It was earlier when he went down to the kitchen and noticed with surprise that Ellie was preparing tea and breakfast. She bustled around without a word and put everything on a tray as if she wanted to take it somewhere.

"What are you doing?" Joel asked, and the girl almost jumped.

"What does it look like?" she snapped. "I'm making her breakfast. She hasn't eaten since yesterday. I don't know what's wrong with her, but if she keeps this up, she'll spit her stomach out. Maybe she should see a doctor, eh?"

"The doctor probably won't help her now." Joel snapped, pouring himself some coffee.

Ellie put the pan in the sink and looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean?" she asked "Don't tell me she's pregnant or something."

Joel swallowed a sip of coffee, but didn't answer. He also didn't see Ellie's eyes widen with excitement.

"Oh, fuck!" she screamed excitedly and immediately fell silent, scolded by Joel's look. "Really?! Shit, dude! I thought you knew how this would end, but you're so crazy about her that I'm not surprised. A baby…"

She took the tray in her hands, but immediately put it down as if something had occurred to her.

"That's why she's crying so much," she said worriedly, "I saw her eyes. She hasn't left the room since yesterday."

"She's..." Joel didn't know how to put it all into words, it was so surreal, "It caught us off guard. We don't know how to deal with it yet."

"What do you mean?" Ellie grimaced, "You love each other, you're going to have a baby. It's pretty simple."

He raised a hand to stop the girl, because her stream of thoughts was slowly overwhelming him. "It's not that simple, Ellie. Bringing a child into this world is risky."

The girl shrugged. "But you're his father, right? You'll keep her and the little one safe. This kid really hit the jackpot. I know what I'm talking about! I don't know my father or mom, but you two are doing a really good job."

It was late when Joel took you to the clinic two days later. The streets of Jackson were dark, and Dr. Morris opened the door for you without unnecessary remarks. You didn't want anyone to see you, you didn't want anyone to know.

Even though you weren't crying anymore, everything still seemed unrealistic to you. At first you denied the thought of pregnancy, then you blamed yourself, and none of Joel's words could change that. Even though it was hard for him, he finally accepted it. You would have a child, he would be a father again.

Maybe Tommy was right? Maybe he had a chance for a little happiness in his life? He had Ellie, who was like a daughter to him. And he had you. And you were everything. With you, he felt as if you took his heart in your hands and took care of it. He couldn't imagine any other life than with you. What if the world looked different? Yes, Tommy was right. He wouldn't hesitate. Even though Joel had already been burned once, and even though his heart was broken, with you he wanted to try again.

"This might feel a little uncomfortable." Doctor Morris said as you settled down and pulled your shirt up, the cool gel covering your lower abdomen. "Don't worry. It'll take a moment."

You nodded. Your hand nervously gripped the edge of the couch, but Joel noticed and took it in his. He was sitting right next to you, and now he kissed your hand and stared at the screen.

"Okay." The doctor pressed a few switches and ran the probe over your skin. "We've got everything here... Give me a second. Oh, yes! Here it is."

He pointed to something small inside your uterus. "It's still tiny. This could be week five or six."

You started counting quickly in your head. It had to have happened before Shane's wedding. Maybe when you came back from one of the dances? Maybe when Ellie was staying over at a friend's and you and Joel finally had the house to yourselves? You looked at him and saw that the same thoughts were swirling in his head.

And then the doctor pressed something and you heard a strange sound. A steady, regular, clattering sound.

"The heart is beating strongly." Morris smiled "It should come in mid-winter, I think. Everything looks fine now."

It was only when you both left the clinic and the door closed behind you, only when the cold wind swept your face, that you felt that it was all real.

Joel placed a hesitant hand on the lower part of your back "How do you feel?" he asked.

"I have no idea, really." you replied "It's... It's overwhelming and it's so hard for me to believe it."

"Me too. I didn't think I'd ever face something like this again, but with you... With you I could do it."

You looked at him, you knew that it must have been hard for Joel too. Neither of you planned this, you didn't even talk about it.

"Do you want this baby?" you asked quietly.

He was silent for a moment, but finally those brown eyes that you loved so much looked at you and you knew. "I would like to have everything with you. No matter what you decide, I will always be by your side, baby. We will handle it."

"I know..." you smiled slightly and reached for his hand.

For the first time, he touched your belly with the thought that your child was inside. Safe and sound, not knowing how scared his parents were. But Joel felt it, he felt that warm feeling again that slowly filled his heart and gave him hope.

He could have everything again. With you.

"I'm so fucking scared." you whispered.

"Yeah, baby. Me too."

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again @callmebyyournick-name

[fairytaleendingss]

Room for One More?

Chapter 11

Summary: James has had time to think during the days he'd been away and through this, has come to a shocking revelation.

CW: Swearing, creepy man being unnerving (nothing inappropriate happens though).

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

This is a shorter one but I just wanted to get something out. I have more of a solid plan now of what I want to happen next to stay tuned for some more updates soon!

--

You started to feel better over the next few days. Remus checked on you periodically to make sure you were making progress while Sirius hovered awkwardly, not quite sure what he was supposed to do whenever the two of you happened to be in the same vicinity.

You weren't sure what had come over him recently, but things between the two of you had been stilted to say the least.

By Wednesday you were back on your feet and back at work, meaning Remus' job was done, however, you desperately hoped that things between the two of you would continue to be civil in the aftermath. Who knows? Maybe you'd even become friends.

James was also getting home from his trip today and you were bubbling with a combination of nerves and excitement. You'd found yourself missing him while he was away. Everything had been strange, to say the least and James was the person out of all your roommates who you were the most comfortable around by far. He just had this light energy about him that was able to balance everything out around your house and without it, things had just felt off. You couldn't quite place your finger on what it was but James Potter just had a way of putting you at ease.

Although, you couldn't help but feel slightly guilty for wanting him there for your own selfish purposes. You knew things had been particularly rough for him after the revelation at New Years and you knew he needed this time to get away from everything and clear his head.

You pondered this concept as you sat back in your desk chair, pen pressed into your cheek and eyes gazing off to nowhere. When did things become so complicated? you thought to yourself.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Mary sang, sliding across the linoleum office floor on her own chair. Mary was always pretty but you took note of it today in particular. Her hair was pulled up on top of her head in a tidy bun and she had a burgundy lipstick on, one that was a departure from the usual neutral tones she went for at work.

You raised a brow at her, choosing to pass by her question.

"You look lovely. Got plans tonight?"

Mary bit her lip as she often did when she was excited.

"It's Lily and I's four month anniversary tonight! I know it sounds silly to celebrate it but if I'm being honest, it's kind of a big deal! Today marks the longest official relationship I've been in!"

"Oh my gosh! Mary, that's wonderful!" you chirped. Then you paused. "Hold on, what do you mean 'official relationship'?"

Mary sighed. "Well, technically there was this guy in high school that I talked to for like a year over Snapchat but he lived in America and we never met in person so it doesn't really count."

You rolled your eyes at her fondly. "You had an internet boyfriend?"

She gave you a gentle slap on the shoulder. "What? I was like fourteen!"

"Okay, fine. Whatever. Congratulations anyway," you replied.

"Thanks girl! Now tell me," she scooted forward slightly on her chair, leaning in as if to share a secret. "What's going on with you and Sirius?"

You sighed thickly. "Unfortunately, there's nothing to tell."

"Really?" she looked surprised. "So you still haven't talked about anything that happened on New Years... or you know, before that?"

You shook your head. "Nope. In fact, honestly, we've barely talked at all recently. It's like he's avoiding me or something."

"That's is odd," Mary muttered. "I mean Sirius isn't usually known for being subtle. For some reason I had it in my head that maybe he would've gone all prince charming and come to your aid while you were ill," she chuckled.

"Ha! No, none of that. Every time we were in the same room, he'd just stare at me like I had two heads and then stutter out some excuse to rush away."

Mary let out a genuine laugh at this. "Yeah, actually that does sound like him. He's uh, not really much of a caretaker."

"No. Well, actually, it was... um, Remus who ended up doing most of the caretaking," you muttered bashfully.

Her eyebrows shot up like rockets. "I'm sorry, WHAT? Did I just hear you say Remus, the man that supposedly can't stand you, looked after you while you were unwell this last week?"

You shrugged but you couldn't deny the way your cheeks warmed at the thought. "He was quite wonderful actually."

A playful smirk overtook her. "Yeah, I bet he was. What? Did he like, bring you soup, and stroke your hair until you fell asleep?"

"Shut up," you joked. "You read too many romance novels."

"Hey! It's not my fault that you're living out the plot of New Girl!"

"You know, it actually kind of is, right?"

She shrugged. "Well, maybe that was the plan all along. I think Remus would definitely be Nick-"

"Anyway," you stated pointedly, before her comparison could get too deep. "You should probably get going. It's after 5 and you don't want to be late for your special date tonight!"

"Oh, shit! You're right," she exclaimed, jumping from her chair and racing to grab her coat.

You chuckled to yourself as you watcher her scramble for her things, calling out a hurried "goodbye" as she headed for the exit.

You took your time packing up that night, both having nowhere to be and also not looking forward to going home. You wondered if maybe Sirius would be out working tonight but you doubted it since James was supposed to have arrived home today and you suspected they'd want to spend some time together.

"Are you heading off now then?"

You abruptly turned on your heel, eyes wide as you noticed Glenn standing closely behind you. You hated when he did that. He was always creeping up on you when you were distracted.

You gave him an awkward smile, hoping he would say a quick goodbye and then leave you be.

He returned the gesture broadly, flashing his perfectly pearly white teeth in a way that you could tell usually worked to make girls swoon. It didn't, however, work so well on you.

"Yeah. Just finishing up now."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Ah. Well I see that Mary has made an early exit. Do you need some company walking out?"

You cringed internally. There was something just so artificial about him. Like he was constantly putting on an act, displaying qualities that he thought people liked to see. But you could see right through it and honestly, it left a bad taste in your mouth.

"That's very kind but I'm okay by myself."

He shook his head stubbornly. "Nonsense! What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go alone in the cold?"

You restrained yourself from rolling your eyes. Clearly it wasn't going to be so easy to shake him off.

"Okay, then," you relented unwittingly. "Lets go."

The walk from your office on the seventh floor down to the front exit was particularly awkward. Glenn hovered at your side, not saying much but just sending you that unnerving smile of his every so often. As you approached the front steps, you were more then relieved to see a familiar figure waiting by the door.

"James! What are you doing here?"

He looked up from his phone, flashing you a genuine grin, one that made your heart feel warm, instead of causing bile to want to rise in your throat the way Glenn's did.

"Hey!"

He approached with rapid footsteps, engulfing you in his warm arms. You relaxed into his hold for a moment, savoring the feeling.

You pulled away at the sound of a throat clearing beside you. Glenn was looking between the two of you with an unreadable expression.

"Oh! Sorry," James corrected himself, only then noticing the other man. "I'm James, Y/n's roommate. Nice to meet you."

He stuck a hand out towards Glenn, which the latter man shook with a reluctant hesitation.

"Glenn Mulciber. We work together."

You didn't like the way the man was looking at James, something akin to jealously flashing across his eyes in a way that made your skin crawl.

"Well, thanks for walking me out, Glenn but James and I'd better be going. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, right. Okay," was all he said before he turned on his heel and stalked away, his demeanor suddenly very cold.

"Well, he's an odd sort of person," James observed as the two of you began the journey home.

"I'm not a fan of his, to tell you the truth," you responded. "He's weird. He kind of creeps me out."

"Hmm," James muttered thoughtfully, although you could tell his mind was elsewhere.

"You don't have to keep coming to pick me up from work, you know? I'm perfectly capable of making it home myself."

James shrugged. "I know, I just like spending time with you."

You felt your heart swim at his words and had to turn your gaze away from him in the hopes that he wouldn't see the embarrassment on your face.

"Well, um... how was your trip?"

"Good. Yeah. It was good."

He was fiddling with the hem of his coat, looking vaguely off into the distance as he spoke to you. Something seemed off about him. You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering what was going on.

"Is everything okay?" you questioned. "You seem nervous or something."

"Um, well," he hesitated for a moment before turning to face you. "Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

You felt your heart sink into your stomach as a slew of worst case scenarios began to run through your mind. You did your best to keep composed.

"Okay, what's up?"

James released a heavy breath as if he was preparing himself for the words to follow.

"So, while I was away, I had a lot of time to think about things,"

"What kinds of things?"

"Well, you know, just everything that's been going on. When I found out about Lily and Mary back on New Years Eve, I was heartbroken..."

You sighed feeling a rush of sympathy. "Yeah, James about that, I'm really sorry. You shouldn't have had to find out that way, I-"

"No! No, it's okay!" he interrupted. "What I was going to say was actually that I was heartbroken at first. But then the more I thought about it, the more I realised, I've been in love with Lily for so long that I think at some point I just started to like the idea of us together more than I actually liked her, if that makes sense."

You sent him a look of confusion.

"That's not to say I don't like her of course," he rushed to amend. "She's a great friend and obviously she's beautiful and a wonderful person and all that but I think that I just got so comfortable with wanting her that I didn't realise when I didn't really want her anymore..."

You couldn't help but chuckle at the boy’s rambling. "James, what are you trying to say?"

Then he stopped walking suddenly and you followed suit. He turned to look at you then, his face serious and eyes ablaze with an unfamiliar friction.

"I think what I'm trying to say is... that night made me realise that I have feelings for someone else."

In that moment, despite the cold of the street, heat began to swirl around you. You felt energy of an unknown source drawing you together in a magnetic pull as James gazed down at you with a look of yearning clouding his dark eyes. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you looked up at him. Your eyes raked over every inch of his face; his sweet smile, the dimples in his cheeks, the stupid curls that he couldn't contain no matter how hard he tried. He was beautiful.

Then, without warning, he leaned in and your lips connected.

It was like the world faded around you. The noise of the cars and the crowds and the hustle and bustle of London in the evening, all just melted away. You didn't care that you were standing in the middle of the street, with icy tendrils of wind piercing your skin. You didn't care that you had a rock in your shoe or that your hair was blowing in your face. In that moment, all you cared about was him and the feeling of his soft lips against yours.

It wasn't desperate and passionate the way it had been with Sirius. No, James' kiss was sweeter, gentler, filled with warmth and comfort just like he was.

When you pulled back, James had a playful smirk on his face. He licked his lips, looking down at you affectionately as he used a finger to push his glasses up on his nose.

"So," he muttered. "Will you go out with me, then?"

You rolled your eyes. "Of course I will, you idiot."

He laughed a little and intertwined your fingers with his own.

"Okay good. I just wanted to make sure."

You scoffed as you began to walk once more, hand in hand and smiles painted on your swollen lips.

--

Taglist:

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[emacrow]

Raven and Tim were the next one to know as Babs brought them in a room with a powerpoint about the fairy boy in Alfred's garden.

Raven because she knows most all mythical creatures in her personal library books and hopefully has a solution to how to capture and relocate the fairy..

Tim for the strategy and backup plans, but his mouth was currently being duct taped shut because Babs will kill him if he say those words.

"Alright, do you have any questions, and what are your solutions plan for capture misplaced Fairy?" Babs said after finishing the powerpoint.

"How exactly did Alfred acquire this flower that the winged fae resided in?"Raven said, looking through her books of Fae history and homes.

"Alfred saw it was the only thing left on the sale, and discount flowers stand at his favorite grocery store, but he got it for free since the tag for it was gone and the manager did had a crush on him. I believe it is a bit far too coincidental." Babs continues to explain.

"I checked the groceries camera footages and it seem to just appear out of nowhere, like some type of glitch in the system."

"... It sounds like a misplaced infinite realm random natural portal incident.." Raven mumbled a bit, flipping a book's pages with her telekinesis to the correct page with the number at the very end chapter of fae and infinite realms.

"Infinite realm..?" Tim voice a bit after tearing off the double duct tape off his mouth, rubbing his stinging lips.

"Yes, seem the little fae was judge as an offering that was rejected to a Higher being of the Infinite realm or offended due to a defect such as his wings are missing." Raven thought about it after several examinations.

"The fae still has sparkling dust on his clothes that was likely fae powder-

"-Pixie dust" babs said a bit too excitedly

"Scars all over his body and on his back look to been recently that he was tortured and his wings were Intently torn off to make sure he didn't had a chance to escape back to fae realm, along with being placed back into his home flower stuck in hibernation phase while contaminated with the infinite realm energy.

Seem the nature portal randomly was this fae saving grace, as it instinctly went straight for sugar cube, a blueberry and gem that didn't have silver coating along with its body pushing itself hard to fly with the remaining residue of fae powder that the buzzing sound was likely a former lightning since Fae noises can not be heard by the human ear even with boasting of magic unless you had step into the fae rings." Raven explained as she read the chapter.

"Do fairies tend to die if you say that.." Babs trying to say by pointing at to emphasize the words on the powerpoint that typed words theory of fairies dying if humans say they don't exist??

"Unfortunately, it seemed so as thousand years or so began to humans lost interests, offerings or belief to Fae-

"Fairies-

-Azarath Metrion Zinthos, they tend to lose power and seemingly fade away into a painfully slow death is very rare, which was counter by them cutting off the entrances of their own fairy rings to the world to save their immortalized skin." Raven said after getting interrupt for the second time, using the shadows to cover Babs mouth so she can finished explaining.

Previous post part 3 link Here <-

[fuji-sen]

the 'evil imposter' just wants to be a baker!

hello little sprouts! Just recently remembered my love(?) or interest with the sagau concepts!

ɞ﹒₊˚ This is partially inspired by the manhwa "A Divorced Evil Lady Bakes Cakes!" ɞ﹒₊˚ Imposter AU's, there is a bit angst in the first three nations but you'll be fineeeee, hopefully. ɞ﹒₊˚ Female!Reader x Selective!Various

divider used is made by @saradika-graphics

[NAME'S] RECIPE AND INGREDIENTS BOOK!

nobody's allowed to touch >:0, especially you damn acolytes, stop trying to kill me! If found please return to [Name] [Lastname], definitely not the creator nor the imposter!

Prologue; The Foodie turned Imposter?!

When a foodie from the real world gets sucked into one of their comfort games, popular hoyoverse game's middle child Genshin Impact, it's not all fun and playtime as one would have expected. Finding out you share a face with the most divine God and Mother of the world, the creator, you are forced to fight for the right to live, so that you can eat and cook for another day!

Part 1: Sunsettia Part 2: Sweet Flowers Part 3: Mint Tea Part 4: hilichurl style stew > 4.5 special: adventures of a pyro slime Part 5: Burning Pinecones Part 6: Ginisang Ampalaya Part 7: Dawn Winery's Grapevine + Fruity Skewers Part 8: Buttery Mamon Part 9: Benny's Adventure Team + Wolfhooks POLL: Pyro Slime Name (Closed) LINK Part 10: A stew of denial

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—

Volume 1; TBA

Chapter 1: The start of [Name]'s Recipes!

more coming soon. . .

ɞ﹒₊˚ Taglist! If you want to be added to the taglist, you can comment here or in the LATEST chapter! This is so that its easier for me to compare which comment is old or new, or those who have or haven't been added yet. ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Also, please don't ask to be add in the taglist through my personal messages if possible. If it looks like im ignoring you guys in the comments about being added, im really not (╥ᆺ╥；), it's just I hold off on adding you or replying on your comments until I'm nearly done with the new chapters. I started avoiding chatting or entertaining messages especially from those that don't follow me, because I don't wanna get hacked or smth like that..

taglist:

@fantasyhopperhea @rhoswen-drake @cchiiwinkle @aman3kkun @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @bunniotomia @esthelily

@earth-to-name @fandomfan-102 @kh1ffy @jiyeons-closet @dragontammerz / @mercy-not-merci @aryuunachigiri @randomnatics @alexx197197 @keirennyx @vianitry @game-savvy @laviniadraws @altumsomnum @ghostlysyntaxed @kangyeonie @resident-cryptid @floofeh-purpi @allmightycucumber @wolfiafuntime @ofalexis @jiaoqiuthefoxian @is-it-night-or-day @lilacoaks @brainemptynothoughts @blackstar-gazer @existing-apparently @ohnoivefallen @yae-yu127 @creativecupcake @crazydreamcat @mysstical-siren @ijustwannabeheldbro @inaaya1inaaya @eyeless-kun @theautisticduck @depressivecomforts @alexizzp @payayay @exams-will-make-me-cry @austisticfreak @honey-everythingisonfire @junebuggz @time-shardz @pix-stuff @n0tmentallystable @charming-mage @luns-exlipse @thedevioussmirk @mayythammyy @marsilis @koifishpoond @haruskrd @fh-seere @valeriele3 @lover-girl009

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[letssofia3006]

Fanart from the most recent chapter of the fanfic: The harmony of the spark. Written by @just-joeja

The piano scene was super intense, thou, I couldn’t help but imagine Optimus literally fuming. He is a semi-truck altomode, of course he fumes when angry. It comes with the package and nonone can’t convince otherwise.

Additionally here I drop my thought process for the comic + 4 paragraphs worth of yapping:

The chapter never explicitly states how or why Megatron was there to listen to Optimus. What we do know is that Optimus, for once, didn’t bother checking the auditorium—he went straight to the piano. This means Megatron could have been there from the very beginning without Optimus noticing. However, there’s also no mention of Optimus closing the door behind him, so the sound of the piano could have easily reached his ears and drawn him into the auditorium. Both possibilities are equally plausible.

And since there’s no strong evidence to prove one over the other, I choose to believe the first option (as is obvious in the comic) purely for funny reasons.

Let me set you the scene. Megatron, after enduring 60 auditions in a row! He is bore out of him mind, he is tired. Perhaps, after judging the last pianist and finding no clear standout, he simply gives in and falls into a deep, deep sleep. And I mean very deep—so deep that the entire auditorium is vacated and the lights are turned off, likely by Soundwave, who probably gave up on trying to wake him.

And then, bam! He is suddenly awaken by the world angriest stumps he’s ever heard, accompanied by the most jaw dropping, tear jerking, breathtaking rendition of Prelude in C Sharp Minor from Rachmaninoff. And then, another bam! The source of the music is no other than Optimus Prime. The fragging maestro who Megatron spent the entire audition process internally mocking. But primus be damned, Optimus is good! Better than the 99% who audioned just earlier.

So now, Megatron has to put on his most professional, smug expression and act like he totally planned for this. But more importantly, he cannot let anyone realize that he literally just woke up. Least of all Optimus Prime

[kkanabel]

co-pilot mischief ✫ both broken ✫ chapter tres ✫ finale

captain curly x teasing!reader

it’s been a month since your epiphany that Captain Curly has a sweet little crush on you, and you’ve been teasing him the entire time. what happens when you push him even closer to the edge? you asked that question, and here we are: Curly has officially broken.

directory/m.list ⇦ previous chapter

words: ~6.1k

t/w: sex, minors dni, overstimulation, fingering, REALLY OVERSTIMULATION, multiple orgasms, curly being a lil shit, so much yucky, gn!reader who wears a bra, no specific genitalia mentioned for reader (if i fucked up & did somewhere, pls lmk), any other things i should mention?

a/n: hi. been obsessed with this video game recently—well, especially with Curly (go figure. i like fictional men). i needed to make something self-indulgent bc i just like this man way too much. and because i just want to make a world where none of them have to suffer. enjoy~ 

~jeremy does not exist in this world~

Planned Shipment Duration: 382 Days Elapsed Transit Time: 342 Days

Since the incident, you’ve noticed Curly’s behavior shift from his usual awkward-but-adorable responses to something else entirely—avoidance. Every conversation with him feels clipped, every interaction rushed. This avoidance comes to a head when you have to discuss the ship's fuel readings.

“Captain, can you double-check the fuel calibration?” you ask, stepping into the cockpit with a tablet in hand.

Curly is already seated at the console, his back stiffening at the sound of your voice. “It’s fine,” he mutters without looking up, his fingers flying over the controls.

You narrow your eyes. “Fine? It’s been showing inconsistencies for two days now. Can we be sure it won’t cause an issue later?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening. “I’ll… take care of it.” Still, he doesn’t glance at you, his gaze fixed on the screen as if the fuel levels are the most riveting thing he’s ever seen.

You step closer, placing the tablet on the console in front of him. “It’d be quicker if we checked it together,” you say, deliberately leaning over just slightly to try and catch his eyes.

But he shifts, pulling back as if your proximity physically burns. “I’ve got it,” he says tersely, still avoiding you.

The clipped tone stings more than you expect. You hesitate, studying him. His hands grip the edge of the console, the veins in his forearms standing out as though he’s using every ounce of willpower to keep his composure. He looks tired—no, exhausted—but there’s something else in his expression, something tight and defensive.

You pull back, watching him with a frown. There’s an ache in your chest you weren’t prepared for—a pang of guilt mixed with frustration. You liked teasing him, pushing his buttons just enough to see the cracks in his armor, but this? This feels different. It’s like he’s shut a door between the two of you, and you can’t help but wonder if you pushed too far.

You bite your lip, torn. Was it the water incident? The shirt? Or maybe it’s been everything—the touches, the flirtation, the unspoken tension you’ve been toying with for weeks. Whatever it is, the wall he’s built feels higher than before, and it leaves you restless, your stomach knotting with something that feels a lot like regret.

That night, sleep refuses to come. You lie in your bunk, staring at the dim ceiling of your cabin, your mind replaying every moment from the cockpit earlier. His stiffness, his avoidance, the way he couldn’t even look at you—it all swirls together, making your chest feel heavy.

Was he angry with you? Embarrassed? Or worse—had you made him so uncomfortable that he didn’t want to be around you anymore? The thought makes your throat tighten, and you sit up, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

The hum of the ship’s engines fills the silence of your cabin, steady and soothing, but it does little to calm the turmoil in your chest. You’ve been lying there for hours, staring at the ceiling, your blanket pushed to the side as your mind cycles endlessly.

You can’t stop thinking about him.

The look on Curly’s face earlier had been… different. It wasn’t just the usual exasperation you’d grown fond of teasing out of him. It was heavier, like he was carrying something you couldn’t quite name, something you weren’t sure you should have pulled at.

You close your eyes and groan quietly into the darkness, guilt and frustration twisting in equal measure. Sure, it’s fun to watch him squirm, to push his buttons just enough to see the cracks in that carefully constructed exterior. But you may have gone too far—even if the water spilling on your shirt was a complete accident. His jaw had set so tightly, his words clipped in a way that left no room for your usual playful retorts.

The memory sits heavy in your chest now, pressing down like a weight.

You roll over for the hundredth time, but the ache of regret and the nagging spark of curiosity keep you pinned wide awake. It’s not just the teasing, is it? Not really. It’s the way his silence speaks louder than his words, the way he looks at you like he’s bracing himself to lose something he doesn’t even have yet

You sigh, sitting up and running a hand through your hair. You know you should leave it alone, let him come to you when he’s ready, but patience has never been your strong suit.

Sliding out of the bunk, you glance at the reflection of your sleepwear in the metal panel across the room. The skimpy fabric makes you hesitate, but only for a moment. If you’re honest with yourself, part of you still wants to provoke him. But another part—the part twisting in your gut—just wants to be able to speak to him normally again.

The ship feels colder at night, the air biting against your bare skin as you make your way down the narrow corridor. The faint glow spilling from the cockpit confirms your suspicion: he’s there, just as you expected.

You pause in the doorway, your heart beating harder than you’d like. He hasn’t noticed you yet. His head is bowed, his fingers raking through his messy blond hair as he leans over the console. He looks… defeated. The sight sends a pang through you, sharp and unwelcome.

Taking a breath, you step inside, keeping your voice soft as you speak. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He straightens abruptly, his shoulders stiffening as his chair creaks under the sudden movement. His eyes meet yours for a moment before flicking downward and darting back up, his jaw clenching. You catch the faintest flush across his cheeks, but his expression is unreadable.

“What are you doing here?” His tone is flat, but there’s a strain beneath it, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You try to smile, but it falters. Stepping closer, you cross your arms, suddenly feeling more self-conscious than you expected. “I—” You stop, unsure of how to begin. “I just… I wanted to check on you.”

His brows furrow, suspicion flickering across his face. “Check on me?”

“Yeah.” You force a small laugh, but it sounds hollow even to your own ears. “You seemed… off earlier.” You hesitate, glancing at the console to avoid his gaze. 

The silence that follows feels heavier than when the ship’s gravity went haywire and pushed down on you all. You risk a glance at him, only to find him watching you with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. His hands grip the armrests of his chair like they’re the only thing anchoring him, his knuckles pale.

“It’s fine,” he says finally, his voice tight, controlled. Too controlled. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

The way he says it makes something inside you crack. You know that tone, the one he uses to push people away, to keep himself locked behind walls you’ve only just started to glimpse behind. And it hurts.

“Curly…” You step closer. “That’s not what I—”

“Don’t,” he cuts you off, his voice sharper now, his eyes flashing with something you can’t quite name.

But you don’t back down. Not this time.

“Don’t what?” you challenge, leaning closer to him. You keep your voice soft, almost hesitant, but there’s no mistaking the edge behind it. “Don’t worry about you? Don’t care?”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he might not answer. He just stares at you, his stormy blue eyes locked on yours, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he finally says, but there’s no conviction in the words. They’re a shield, flimsy and cracking.

You tilt your head, your voice dropping lower. “Why not?”

“Because…” He looks away, running a hand down his face, and you see the way his fingers tremble. When his gaze snaps back to yours, there’s fire in it, raw and unfiltered. “Because I can’t keep doing this, alright? I can’t—”

He stops himself, his voice breaking on the last word, and your heart stumbles in your chest.

“Can’t what?” you press, taking another step closer, your bare feet brushing against the cool floor. Your voice softens, and this time there’s no teasing, no game. “Curly, just tell me.”

He lets out a frustrated sound, somewhere between a growl and a groan, and rises abruptly from his chair. The suddenness of it makes you flinch, but you hold your ground.

“You don’t get it, do you?” His voice is louder now, but it’s not anger—it’s desperation, raw and bleeding. “You waltz in here in your—” His eyes flick down to your barely-there pajamas before snapping back up, his expression torn. “—your… whatever that is, and you look at me like that, and you think it’s funny, don’t you? Messing with me, pushing me, like it’s all some game!”

You blink, stunned by the outpouring of words. “I—”

“No,” he cuts you off, his voice cracking. “You don’t get to talk right now. Do you know how hard I’ve been trying? Trying to keep this… whatever it is… locked down? To keep things professional, to not…” He trails off, shaking his head like he’s trying to dislodge the thought.

“To not what?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

“To not ruin everything!” he bursts out, and the words hang in the air between you, heavy and unrelenting. “Do you have any idea what it’s like, waking up every damn day and seeing you, knowing I can’t—shouldn’t—feel this way?”

His chest heaves, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He’s closer now, the space between you shrinking with every ragged breath.

He leans in closer, his forehead nearly brushing yours, and you can see the tension in his jaw, the flicker of hesitation before he barrels on. “Do you know what it’s like to sit next to you every day, to have you so close and know I can’t touch you? Can’t tell you?” His laugh is bitter, almost self-deprecating. “God, I can’t even think straight when you’re around. You’ve got me walking into walls, screwing up flight routes, forgetting my own bloody name half the time.”

“Curly…” You reach out, but he grabs your wrist before you can touch him, his grip firm but not painful.

“Don’t,” he says again, but this time it’s a plea, his voice breaking. His gaze locks on yours, his eyes glassy with an emotion you’ve never seen from him before.

And then, before you can say anything, he moves.

In one swift motion, he pushes you back against the console, his hands braced on either side of you, caging you in. His face is inches from yours, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him, the unsteady rhythm of his breath.

“I can’t…” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Your heart pounds so loudly you’re sure he can hear it, but you don’t move, don’t dare to break the fragile moment hanging between you.

“Then don’t,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

His eyes search yours, and for a heartbeat, everything stands still. Then, with a groan that sounds like defeat, he closes the gap, capturing your lips with his in a kiss so fierce it steals the breath from your lungs.

The kiss is not soft or measured, but raw, desperate, and full of everything he’s been holding back for months. His lips crash against yours with an intensity that makes your knees go weak, and you gasp into him, feeling the weight of all his pent-up frustration pouring out into this moment.

His hands, rough and calloused, grip the edges of the console beside your hips like he’s barely holding himself together. You feel the tension in his arms, the way his muscles cord and flex, the sheer power of him caging you in.

And then, suddenly, his hands shift. One moves to your jaw, tilting your face to deepen the kiss, while the other slides down to your hip, pinning you firmly to the console beneath you. The cool surface bites against your skin, grounding you as his fingers wrap around you with just enough force to keep you there without hurting you.

He pulls away for a moment, searching your eyes for any hint of rejection, finding none.

You open your mouth to speak, but he doesn’t give you the chance. His lips crash back down onto yours, more insistent this time, as if he’s trying to erase every teasing word and playful glance you’ve ever thrown his way.

His body presses closer, and you’re keenly aware of every inch of him—the strength in his broad shoulders, the solid weight of his chest against yours, the way his body is being held between your thighs (which you’ve just realized that you wrapped around him), keeping you and him firmly in place. His free hand trails down your side, his touch firm and possessive.

“Curly,” you keen, eyes fogged from the kisses he just gave you.

“Don’t,” he warns, his voice low and rough. “Not unless you’re ready to take responsibility for what you’ve started.”

The words send a shiver through you, and you meet his gaze, your breath catching at the unrestrained emotion in his expression—anger, yes, but also longing, vulnerability, and an aching kind of need that makes your chest tighten.

“I’m not sorry,” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling but steady enough to hold his gaze.

His lips curl into a gentle smile, and he shakes his head, leaning in until his forehead rests against yours. “I expected such,” he murmurs, his voice softer now but no less intense.

And then he kisses you again, slower this time, but just as overwhelming. It’s less about frustration now and more about everything else—the want, the need, the relief of finally letting it out. His hand slides from your hip to thread his fingers through yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as if to soften the moment, to remind you that despite the force of it all, he’s still Curly.

Even then, as he pulls his lips away to trail his kisses down that delicious neck of yours that he’s been fantasizing about for the past couple months, he bucks his hips into yours subconsciously. 

His eyes widen at the realization of what he just did, and he’s just about to apologize when he hears your soft groan, your hips grinding back into his. 

You’re going to be the end of him. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, his mind goes entirely blank while reaching his hands to grab onto the mounds of your chest as he places wet kisses all over your neck. 

The sensation makes you gasp—his warm lips suckling all over the crook of your neck, trailing slightly further down as his large, warm hands grasp at you, fingers gliding against the thin fabric over to the tips of your nipples. He teases it over the fabric, each graze sending a jolt down your core as his pants get tighter.

You watch as Curly’s eyes glaze over while looking at the thin fabric of your shirt, watching your nipples peak and harden under his ministrations. One of his hands pulls away from a breast, brushing down your body until he pulls the skimpy fabric of your shorts and your underwear to the side and places his fingers right onto your heat at just the right spot, rubbing at it.

Your gasping, arms tightening around his neck, and your hands gripping at the hair on the base of his neck only serves to spur him on. His eyes are still hazy with a sheen of lust as he brings his fingers to his lips and licks them lasciviously before easing a finger inside your hole, slowly massaging at your walls until he finds your most delicious spot. 

When you tense up and you let out another gasp, his tongue darts out to lick at his lips, knowing that he’s found it. As you reach up to capture his lips with yours, he slips another finger in. 

As you’re kissing, you let out a choked moan as he only rubs against that little spot more, fingers starting to curl up rougher and faster. His fingers filled you up so well—so thick and long, pressing your insides in all the right places. 

When you clench and spasm around his fingers, you expect him to slow down, but his fingers only get faster through your orgasm. You squeak in response, and his eyes are hooded as he finger fucks you into oblivion.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growls against your lips, his voice thick with frustration and something darker. His breath fans hot against your cheek as he pulls back just enough to speak, his eyes blazing as they meet yours. “To push me until I couldn’t take it anymore?” 

His face is a storm of emotions, each one fighting for dominance. His jaw is tight, clenched as though he was holding back. His lips are red and slightly swollen from the kiss, a stark contrast against the stubble shadowing his sharp jawline. 

But it’s his eyes that leave you breathless—dark and blazing with an intensity that borders on feral. Those blue eyes, turbulent and unyielding, locking onto yours like they’re searching for every answer you’ve ever hidden. It combines with the feeling of his fingers pressing you in the right spot, making you see stars.

“You’ve been playing with fire, haven’t you?” he breathes, his voice rough and biting. His lips curl into something that’s not quite a smile—a shadow of one, edged with frustration and disbelief. “All those looks, those little comments. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

His hand at the console shifts, and he presses a little closer, his body heat seeping into you. “God, do you have any idea what it’s been like? Watching you parade around like that? Laughing, teasing, pretending you don’t notice what you’re doing to me?” His words are a low snarl now, sharp with exasperation and tinged with lust as he drives his fingers deep into you, earning a squeal from your lips.

“Every time I thought I had it under control, you’d pull something new. A touch here. Showing off some skin there.” His free hand slides along your jaw, his thumb brushing deliberately across your cheekbone. His touch is gentle, almost a mockery of the fire behind his words and the intensity behind his fingers. “You really thought I would break eventually, didn’t you?”

His eyes flicker to your lips, and his fingers keep curling and thrusting inside you in a way that makes you squeak. The sound makes his gaze snap back to your eyes, his expression darkening further. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, trying to ground yourself from this onslaught of pleasure.

“Was this the plan all along?” he taunts, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “To push me so far I’d lose control? Or were you just so sure I’d never cross that line?” He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “Well, congratulations. You’ve got me right where you want me.”

He pulls back just far enough to meet your eyes again, his lips curling into a wicked smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “So tell me,” he murmurs, his tone both a challenge and a warning, “what are you going to do now?” Your gummy walls clench on his fingers as he works you undone again—with both his fingers and his words.

“Please,” you keen, voice breathless. “Just fuck me, Captain.” 

The use of his title in that pleasure-drenched voice of yours makes him sharply inhale. He leaned back, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Not yet," he says, his voice low and commanding. "You're going to need to be ready for me. Really ready. So, I’m going to take my time." He knew the company regulations like the back of his hand—no personal items, especially not the kind that could be used for pleasure. And he knew you hadn't had anyone else in almost a year.

Your eyes go wide with shock as he speaks, and you realize what he meant. "But I... I've been... stretching," you protested, face heating up at the implication. 

Curly's smile grows, and he leans down, his mouth hovering just above yours. "With your fingers?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement. "That's not enough. Not for what I've got in store for you." You look up at him in shock.

"Trust me," he murmurs against your lips. "You'll thank me for it later. Especially when I break you like you tried to break me. I’ll have you begging, you little tease." His words send shivers of excitement up your spine.

With that, he slides his hand back down your body, his fingers slipping into you again. Your muscles are still contracting from the aftershocks of your two climaxes. He pumps his fingers in and out, watching your face contort with pleasure and overstimulation. But he knew he had to prepare you, had to make sure you could take him.

He leans in, whispering in your ear. "You're going to come again," he tells you, his voice a promise. "And then again. And each time, I'm going to make you feel so good that you'll forget your name."

Your eyes close, breath coming in short pants as you moan into his mouth. Curly revels in the feeling and the view of your hips moving in time with his touch. 

Curly slides in a third finger, curling them gently, feeling the slickness of your arousal. Your eyes fly open, and you look at him with a mix of shock and need. "Curly," you gasp, your hips bucking against his hand, hole stretching around his fingers. "Please..." He strokes you in a steady rhythm, watching your face contort with pleasure. You bite your lip, trying to be quiet, but the occasional whimper escapes. 

He pushes your tiny tank top up, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling it as he continues to play with you. Your hands pull him closer, urging him on. He can feel your body tightening, your legs starting to tremble. He knew you were close.

And then it happened. With a cry, you cum again, your muscles clenching around his fingers. He still doesn’t stop, though, instead curling his fingers deeper inside you, keeping the pressure on your sweet spot. Your orgasm went on and on, your body shaking with pleasure, legs giving out.

As the last of your tremors subside, he pulls his hand away, bringing his fingers to his mouth. He tastes you, watching as your face heats up. "So good," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “I’m going to push you until you can’t take it anymore.” 

Without warning, he slams his mouth onto your core, his tongue flicking you rapidly. You scream, hips jerking up. Your nails claw at the console, searching for any kind of purchase before gripping his blonde locks.

Curly feels the warmth of your orgasm wash over his hand and lips, juices coating his fingers and face as he watches you come apart in front of him. He'd never seen anyone so beautiful. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you let out a guttural cry, body arching. 

He waits for you to open your eyes, to look at him with the same hunger he feels burning in his gut. When you do, there are tears in the corners of your eyes, and you’re panting. "Please," you beg, voice a whimper. "Please, Curly. I need you inside me." Your vision was already starting to go blurry, and you felt a slight twinge of dizziness from all the mind-numbing orgasms.

His only response is a shit-eating grin and his fingers continuing to work you open. The sound of your wetness fills the cockpit, and he couldn't help but groan. You’re so tight, so perfect. And all his. He watches your face as he works into you, his tongue circling you in time with his fingers curling up and down, thrusting in and out. You’re close, so close to breaking altogether, and he can feel the tension building in your body.

“Curly, please, I-” And then, with a scream, you cum again, gushing wetness all over his hand and face. He pulls away, wiping it from his cheek with a grin. 

"See?" he says, his voice filled with pride and eyes filled with darkness. "I told you I'd make you beg for it."

Your chest heaves, breath coming in ragged gasps. You stare up at him, eyes glazed. "Curly," you whisper with a needy voice. "Please... I need you."

He stood up, his cock straining against his pants. "Not yet," he said again, his voice firm. "We have all night."

He reaches down, helping you to your feet. You sway slightly, legs weak from the intense orgasms. He swiftly picks you up and carries you to the Captain’s Quarters. The crew is asleep. The only sounds are the steady hum of the Tulpar's engines and your two footsteps.

Once inside, he places you down onto his bed gently, your legs still shaking. He hovers over you, his eyes dark with hunger. He kissed you again, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting you and your desire. You moan, hands reaching up to tug at his shirt.

He breaks the kiss, pulling his shirt off. Your eyes scrape up and down the sight of his bare chest, his muscles rippling in the dim light. He leans back in, his mouth moving down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle nibbles. You shiver, skin sensitive from the previous orgasms.

Curly slides his hand down to your hole again, his thumb pressing against you as he kisses his way down your body. You gasp, hips rising to meet his touch. He spread open your legs revealing you, all bare and wet. He took a moment to appreciate the view, your swollen hole and the glisten of your arousal—the glisten of your multiple orgasms.

With a groan, he buries his face between your legs, his tongue flicking over you at the perfect spot. You almost scream, the sensation too much. He slides two fingers inside, desperate to continue stretching out your inner muscles.

He licks and sucks, his mouth a symphony of pleasure. You cum again, body bowing off the bed, hands tangling in his hair. He doesn’t let up, his tongue relentless, his fingers curling inside you, pushing you to the edge once more. Your cries grow louder, more frantic, until you’re almost screaming. And then, just as suddenly, you go quiet.

Your eyes roll back in your head, and you go limp beneath him as your body refuses to stop twitching. Curly pulls back, panting, his mouth wet with your essence. He watches your chest heave, your breath coming in ragged gasps. He knows you’re on the edge, just about to shatter into pieces.

He slides his fingers out of you, watching the way you quiver.

He stands, his own desire clear in the bulge in his pants. "You’re doing so good," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Now you're ready." Curly chuckles as he watches your muscles twitch. “So cute,” he mumbles as he zips his jumpsuit down all the way and pulls his boxers down. It's massive, thick and long, standing erect and flushed with arousal.

You’re still unable to form words, eyes blank as you come down from the onslaught of pleasure. Your eyes flutter open when you feel him getting back onto the bed, chest heaving as you stare up at him. "Curly," you breathe, voice shaky. "I don’t… I don’t know if I can take it anymore."

He leans over you, eyes dark with need. "You can," he says, his voice firm. "You will. And you're the one who begged for it."

Curly lines up his cock with your slick entrance, the tip kissing you lightly. It's hot, and you can feel the pulse of his excitement. His reddened tip is so much larger than what you've felt before, veins standing out. Your eyes widen, looking at the size of him, and you feel your stomach flip.

Slowly, with a look of absolute focus, he starts to push in, watching your face as you bite your lip to keep from screaming. The head of his cock, that angry red tip, breaches your entrance, and you can feel your body stretching around its thickness. He goes so slowly, so carefully, that you can't help but trust him. The veins on his shaft stand out like roads on a map, and they feel like they're carving into you as he slides in inch by inch.

The pressure is intense, but you’re so wet, so ready for him. He slides in deeper, feeling you stretch around him. Your walls cling to him, and he knows he'd never felt anything so amazing. He pauses for a moment, savoring the sensation.

And to his surprise, you cum again, walls tightening around his cock. A keening sound tears from your throat, and you buck your hips against him, trying to push him deeper. He holds you still, watching your face, feeling your walls pulse around him. 

It was like nothing he'd ever felt before, a wave of pleasure so intense it almost brought him to his knees. “Fuck,” his eyes squeeze shut, voice hoarse. 

But he doesn’t stop. He couldn't. He pushes in further, feeling you tighten even more. You were whining now, a high-pitched sound that seemed to echo through the room. He knows he’s hitting all the right spots, that you were on the edge again. And he was going to make sure you fell over it.

You're so wet, so ready for him, that he's able to ease into you with surprising ease, despite his size. Each time he pushes in, you feel your muscles resisting before giving way, your body adapting to his thickness. Your walls clench around him, trying to get used to the feeling of being so full, so claimed. It's as if every part of you is being rewritten, every nerve ending remapped to accommodate his size.

His thumbs press gently against your pulse points, feeling the rapid thrum of your heartbeat. “You’ve been in my head for months. Twisting me up so bad I can’t tell what’s real anymore. Hell, I can’t even close my eyes without seeing you.” His voice has dropped lower, huskier, the edges roughened by emotion and strain.

The feeling of fullness is intense, almost overwhelming, but it's mixed with an aching need for more. You can feel your body stretching, adjusting to his size, and it's both slightly painful and incredibly arousing. He's so much larger than any toy you've ever used, and the thought of taking all of him sends a fresh wave of desire through you.

You glance up at his form, the dim artificial lights overhead casting a faint, bluish hue across his bare chest. His skin glistens faintly, a sheen of sweat highlighting the sculpted lines of his muscles—the curve of his shoulders, the sharp planes of his chest, and the ripple of his abdomen. Shadows deepen in the grooves between his ribs and along the flex of his arms as he shifts, his every movement purposeful, almost mesmerizing. There’s faint golden hair dusting his chest and trailing down his stomach.

The sight of him makes you coo, “Curly, you’re so perfect.”

His eyes never leave yours, and in them you now see a fierce concentration, a hunger that's been building for a long time. The head of his cock reaches deep into you, and you arch your back, the sensation overwhelming. You're so full you feel like you might burst. But then he pulls out slightly, only to push back in even deeper, and it's as if you've been hit by a bolt of lightning.

With one final, powerful thrust, he's all the way in, and you let out a cry that echoes through the cabin. Your nails dig into his back, your body shaking with the intensity of it all. His cock is so big, so hard, that you feel it in every part of you, filling you up in a way you never knew was possible.

Your hips are moving, rutting against him, urging him deeper. 

He starts to move, his hips rocking into yours, his cock sliding in and out of your tight hole. You moan, the feeling so intense that you don’t know if you can handle it. Orgasms roll through you, one after another, each one more powerful than the last. You couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began, they just blended together into a never-ending crescendo of pleasure.

Curly's movements then become more forceful, his thrusts deeper and faster. Each time he fills you, you can feel your inner muscles clench around him, trying to hold onto that delicious feeling of fullness. He groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he starts to pick up the pace.

Tears slide down your cheeks as he fucks you, each stroke hitting deeper than the last. Your eyes are now squeezed shut, and all you can see was the bright white light of pure ecstasy. You don’t know if you can take it, don’t know if you could handle his size, his strength. But you don’t want him to stop.

The room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you. It's primal, animalistic, and you can't help but get lost in it—in the feeling of his body pressing into yours, in the heat of his breath against your neck, in the way your orgasms build and crash over you like waves.

Your body starts to shake, your muscles tensing as you feel another climax building. You look up at him, eyes pleading, and he leans down, capturing your mouth in a fierce kiss. It's as if he knows exactly what you need, and he's more than willing to give it to you.

Curly starts to hit that spot inside you with every thrust, the one that makes your toes curl and your vision blur. You moan into his mouth, your hips rising to meet his, desperate for more. Fuck, but you don’t know if you can take it anymore. He's relentless, his cock driving into you, stretching you further and further until you think you'll shatter into a million pieces. 

And then, with one final, powerful thrust, you do.

You push him away, just enough for his cock to pop out of you, and you squeal. “‘Curly,” you keen, twitching all over as you release all over yourself, him, and his sheets. His dick twitches as he watches you spasm all over his bed, coating both of you in your cum and slick. 

The corners of your eyes sting with tears of pleasure, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Curly’s gaze doesn’t waver, his lips slightly parted as he watches you, his chest rising and falling with his own labored breaths. 

“Bloody hell,” he mutters, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, his voice hoarse and rough. Then, without hesitation, he flips you over with a strength that sends your pulse racing all over again. His hands are firm yet careful, a mix of desperation and reverence in the way he touches you.

“You drive me insane,” he growls, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. The weight of his words settles over you, and you know this is far from over. His frustration, his need, his months of pent-up tension—all of it is unraveling here and now, and you’re the one holding the thread.

And with those words, you know it’s going to be a long, unforgettable night. The thought crosses your mind in a brief, hazy moment of clarity: How are you supposed to walk tomorrow? But the question is quickly swept away, drowned in the whirlwind of Curly’s relentless thrusting and the electric heat between you.

Hours later, when the two of you finally collapse into each other, exhausted and sated, there’s a rare, blissful quiet in the air. His arm drapes over you after he cleans you up, heavy and warm, pulling you against his chest. The steady rhythm of his breathing lulls you into a peace you haven’t felt in ages.

For the first time in years, Curly sleeps soundly. No tossing, no turning, no restless hours spent staring at the ceiling. In his dreams, as in reality, you’re there with him. And ever since then, he hasn’t had any insomnia.

And you? You have no regrets.

a/n: the finale~~ let me know what y'all think!

oh yeah.. smut.. neverending smut..

taglist is open! lmk if you want to be on the taglist for just curly/mouthwashing characters or if you want the news on alll my fics.

also might be accepting requests hehe! i can’t guarantee that i can do em, but i’ll accept ideas!

btw. not beta read, please let me know if there are any typos/inconsistencies stay safe & hydrated as always!

(and go to sleep if you’re reading this super late. don’t be a curly. take care of yourself!)

thanks for reading! <3

crossposted on ao3

taglist: @m-carriaga2021, @skyeconch

directory/m.list ⇦ previous chapter

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ The Prequel ] || [ Chapter 2 ]

Pairing: Gaz x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 1: Kyle

All of last night you and your friends spent time tinkering with your profile, putting up the sexiest pics of you that you had, some of them from Instagram, some from your camera roll, and filling in all the fields of info you could… 

And then you started checking out the profiles, definitely judging and roasting the men that popped on your screen (blame the alcohol), but always swiping right, regardless of what you (or them) thought of the most recent man on the screen.

But, once they left, you turned off the notifications and alerts from the app and went to sleep. You had acquiesced to downloading the app and making a profile, but the last thing you wanted was to be on that app constantly and get bombarded with DMs and Likes/Super-Likes…

The next day came and went and, as you sat in your kitchen after work, unboxing your take-out boxes of dinner, your group chat pinged with a text from Leah.

leah: How's Tinder going? 👀

You bit your lip and sighed as you typed out a response:

you: haven’t touched it all day bc i was at work. leah: Better touch it then!!

Rolling your eyes, you set the phone down on the table again, and locked the screen, as you began stirring the noodles you bought with your chopsticks.

Mia joined not long after with her own opinion. 

mia: ive got a good feeling about today! ur gonna find a hot bloke i know it 🫶 im sending good energyyyy!

“Yeah, right…” You grumbled. But, once again, you acquiesced and clicked on the little flame-shaped app icon.

The app lagged at first, for a good 5 seconds, and then a bunch of DMs and Like notifications pinged your phone.

You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself… Oh, how predictable men are… They see a picture showing just a bit more skin and they try to chat the person up. But, at the same time, it made you feel quite good…

You skim through the DMs you’ve already gotten, over 99 of them… And none of them tickled your fancy. Plenty of them were variations of “Oi.”, “Hey.”, “Hi.”... Not to mention the ones that were just directly asking you to meet up right from the get-go.

Returning to the groupchat, you text your friends a screenshot of the 99+ counter on both the DMs and the Likes, which causes them to break into cheers at you.

leah: Look at you!!!! mia: i knew it. you: not into any of them tho. mia: then go back to swiping girl!

Biting back a little groan, you returned to Tinder and flicked onto the Swiping page.

Surprisingly, now that you were alone (and kind of doing it against your will), it was a lot easier for you to not get lost over-analyzing the profiles and simply… mindlessly moving your finger.

Right.

Right.

Right.

Right.

Ew, that’s a catfish of a famous male model, Report.

Right.

Right.

Right.

“Kyle.” You said softly as you read the name on your screen. He looked adorable, with a squinted ‘the-sun-is-in-my-eyes’ smile. “29… A soldier… a Brummie…” You mused as you slipped a Chinese roll past your lips and chewed.

You took a screenshot of his profile and sent it quickly to your friends’ groupchat before you returned to Tinder. As you clicked through his photo gallery, you saw the push notifications pinging at the top of the screen.

leah: HE’S STUNNING! 😫 mia: 👀👀👀👀👀 mia: smash.

Chuckling, you continue going through his pictures. “Holiday photo, holiday photo, I seriously hope those are his nephews or something, mandatory picture in uniform, and… JESUS CHRIST, a warning would’ve been NICE?!” You said to no one in particular as your jaw dropped open and you almost dropped your Chinese roll. 

“Bloody hell… Is that sweat or baby oil?” You asked yourself as you looked at his slick, bare chest in the mirror selfie he uploaded. “And is he cupping his-” You stopped that train of thought before it could go too far from the station.

Clicking the arrow in the corner you finally brought his profile into full-screen and proceeded to find yourself chuckling at his bio. 

His pictures were all wonderful, he looked like a guy who took care of himself, and he was funny which was the best part. 

Taking a deep breath, you press the Green heart at the bottom. A squeal escapes your mouth when the phone screen suddenly changes to the darker ‘It’s a Match!’ screen with Kyle.

Your eyes widen in surprise and, just as you press the DM button, intent on coming up with something to message him, you notice it.

Kyle: bought some shoes from a drug dealer this morning. don’t know what he laced them with but I’ve been tripping over myself all day and now think ive finally fallen for you 👀

The cheesy pick-up line has you closing your eyes and exhaling through your nose. It’s starting off terribly… But he’s the first bloke you felt inclined to text… That has to mean something, doesn’t it?

you: you fell out of a helicopter… i dont think its the shoes. i’m starting to think ur just clumsy. Kyle: holy shit you’re not a bot! let’s goooo you: a bot? you really thought that? Kyle: when someone has posted pics as cute as yours you cant help but have that worry in the back of your mind 😅 Kyle: or that ur a catfish 🤷‍♂️ you: i promise you im neither. you: and thank you. you’re cute too. Kyle: thats exactly what a bot/catfish would say 🙄 you: well how would a human talk then?? Kyle: cant tell you bc then ur gonna machine learn and start doing it you: well then how else am i supposed to prove im not either?? Kyle: let me take you out. let me get a proper good look at you. you: was that all a ploy to invite me out?? 🫠 Kyle: first time on tinder? you: that obvious huh? Kyle: a little. Kyle: so is that a yes? you: I’ll think about it. Kyle: i can work with that. 🥴 Kyle: hmu whenever youd like. no pressure. 

Maybe you would hit him up later… Once you gained enough courage to go through with the whole ‘rebound’ thing.

Biting your lip, you click off the DMs and return to the Swiping page…

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