#aside from that I like where it's going so far

[usedpidemo]

Cherry ((G)I-dle Minnie)

For you, nothing compares to seeing your favorite artist live, doing what they love the most.

For Minnie, nothing compares to the continued echo of a roaring crowd screaming her name.

But when it���s all said and done, nothing compares to the sound of her one and only fan shouting her name while he’s giving every last inch into her.

—————

Checking your phone, you see the posts on social media. While everyone else is still inside that stadium, Minnie is nowhere to be found, disappearing right after her 30 minute set, no-showing the arbitrary farewell walk around to the fans. Not that everyone cares or will give her heat for her sudden absence, but her presence leaves quite a noticeable hole in the venue.

Judging by how she’s opening the door to her hotel room, you can guess as to where she’s gone. 

Looking through your recorded footage, her eyes kept a steady track on you, as if she personally singled you out. Giving you flirty winks, subtle flying kisses in your direction, smiling at you even as she hosts the rest of the audience between transitions—the signs were there all along. You were caught up in the moment of her performance to properly notice.

That, and your intrusive handmade banner is quite easy for her to notice.

Speaking of—Minnie’s been holding your banner the entire ride back, finally setting it aside on the dining table. With every glance at your simple ‘I love you’ message, her gummy smile only widens. It’s heartwarming to see your effort be rewarded in quite the grandiose manner. A simple acknowledgement would have been enough—a simple heart, a wave, a general glance in your direction, anything.

You never expected to share a ride back to her hotel before she personally guided you inside her personal place.

She always points out how cute your handwriting is. That you went out of your way to write in Thai, even if it's evidently using Google Translate, saying that she’ll keep it in her place in appreciation. 

And so, you have to address the elephant in the room:

“Why me?” you ask, as your gaze wanders around her hotel room, quite simple in design and only meant for simple overnight stays. You can see the venue you were in minutes ago from the large window, a lifetime away thanks to the nighttime traffic. 

“Because I saw it!” Minnie replies, grinning, falling into her usual idol posture like muscle memory. Hands folded together, classy, even if her still-worn stage outfit says otherwise. Casually flaunting off her tight figure and toned little belly just for you. It’s hypnotic. “Flew in from far away just to see me perform here? You’re committed.”

“I mean—you haven’t performed in my country in years,” you remark, bitter at the thought. One of your driving motivations is to at least see her if the worst happened. Fortunately, they’re here to stay a little longer. Nevertheless, your patience was far past its breaking point, and you had to take matters into your own hands. “You have no idea how long I waited for you to come back.”

Minnie frowns, apologetic and empathetic over your plight. “Sorry. We want to reach out and perform everywhere, but—”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve heard it all the time, no need to remind me,” you interrupt, unwilling to hear the same rote excuse for the umpteenth time. Of course it’s the company’s fault, and not you for living in an unprofitable market for international artists to perform. “But that doesn’t matter now. If you ever go and tour, I’ll try flying out here again, like I did just for you.”

Almost immediately, her downcast expression shifts into a look of joy. “Aw. I hope it doesn’t mean you’re going broke for us. It’s not worth it.”

“Of course not,” is your reply, as if you anticipated this exact response. “I wouldn’t even think about going on this trip if I knew I’d be eating cup noodles for the next month.”

“Sounds fun,” Minnie jests, approaching you and brushing loose strands of your hair covering your forehead. Cupping a hand on your cheek, she whispers against your other cheek, her breath hot: “I’ll pay for whatever you need. Flight tickets, hotel accommodation, transportation—name it and I got you covered.”

“Everything’s been accounted for, but I appreciate the thought,” you remark, your eyes following hers. Staring into each other’s gaze intently, her warmth and sincerity in full bloom, you’re falling deeper in love with her. “I—I just didn’t think this would ever happen.”

“No one does,” is her remark, tone sensual, pulling your head closer against hers. “Now I want to ask you a question, and I want you to be honest with me.”

“Of course.”

Her breath tickles your ear, sending chills down your spine. “What’s your favorite song I did tonight?”

You pause, give her a subtle smile, which she immediately reads. Like she already has a clue.

“I think you already know the answer.”

She breathes against your skin in the shape of a chuckle and a smirk. The song begins to play moments later, courtesy of her own phone.

Minnie quietly mouths the lyrics in your ear, and you can’t help but lean closer to get a feel of her lips kissing your skin. You sense the ripple of her waist against yours, a gentle rustle of her shrinking skirt. You engross yourself in the moment that you don’t notice her hands dragging you with her in the direction of the living room couch.

Pushing you onto the sofa right as the second line hits, Minnie continues mouthing the words to her own song effortlessly, dancing before you so sexily knowing she’d never try on stage in a million years, even with their group’s more risque concepts. Her eyes demand every bit of your attention—not that you had anything else in mind but her. 

A private performance, meant only for you. Turning her hotel room into a club, you’d be throwing what little money you have for her if you had anything left. 

And by God, she loves it. Relishing how whipped you are for her. Doesn’t matter if it’s one or thousands, she lives for the attention and praise.

As the chorus hits, Minnie drops to the floor, stomach down ass up, kicking her heels up in the air, her stare remaining fixated at you all throughout. Rehearsed and practiced, yet looking so natural. You can only watch in awe, wondering how long she’s been waiting for the opportunity, how many times she’s done this before to others, and how the stars perfectly aligned for you to have this personalized moment.

It’s torturing you right now that you can’t reach out and touch her, even if you wanted to.

Picking herself off the floor, she saunters toward you, your nerves tensing with every moment, every step forward. Fingers digging deeper into the fabric of your pants, it’s all purposeful how she moves: every sway of her hips, her hands running down her svelte figure, the twirl when she’s standing right between your legs, flaunting her petite ass peeking through her skirt before squatting down in front of you, an arm’s reach away.

The lyrics perfectly describe the situation: 

“Oh no, here we go. Watch me shake it low.”

It’s like she’s daring you to take her and make her yours.

Her ass lingers far longer than what you can perceive. No matter how desperate you are, you can’t bring yourself to move a muscle, do anything but admire and watch helplessly even as Minnie offers herself to you on a silver platter. Not for lack of trying; your mind can’t handle what’s happening right now.

She looks over shoulder with a wicked grin, as if this isn’t the first time she’s left someone victimized with her deliberate teasing.

As if that wasn’t enough, when she spins around to face you, she drags your hands off your pants, replacing them with her own. Leaning forward, her hot breath reacquainting with your skin, followed by the faintest of air kisses. Slowly but surely, she clambers onto your lap, creating unbearable heat between your legs. 

There’s no denying it now. 

Instinctively, your hands find purchase on her ass, squeezing them hard, drawing a moan out of her. Minnie responds in kind, rolling her head back, grinding her hips on your lap, fanning the flames. Her tummy right in your face, you bend forward and kiss her, tracing a path up to her crop top, resting between her chest. Her fingers find their way around your neck, inching herself closer to you till you can hardly breathe.

“Fuck, it’s been a while since I’ve gotten to do this,” she sighs, breaking herself free from the immersion of her own performance. Glancing down to find your face between her bra, she pulls on your face, drawing your gaze to meet hers. “Like what you see?”

“Fuck yes, I do,” you huff, returning to kiss her bra. “But I’ve got a feeling this wasn’t the first time.”

Minnie laughs. “No shit.”

“Just you, or do the others—”

“You already know,” she interrupts, cupping your chin and redirecting your eyes back on her, shutting you up. “Now can we go back to the moment?”

Without another word, she leans down and meets you for a passionate kiss. Eyes closed, letting your feelings do all the talking. At that moment, you’re not fan and idol, but two lovers finding solace in each other’s arms. The only break is when she pulls back to lift your shirt over your head before you’re passionately making out to her own song again.  

She doesn’t even bring up the fact that your hands have been on her ass the whole time. If anything, with every squeeze, she moans softly into your mouth, making music.

But you can’t stay like this for long. Not when you’re both close to reaching your natural climax.

Breaking off the kiss for a second time, Miinie takes a moment to admire you, smiling. Her face, flushed with crimson and lust, keeps you in place while she silently unhooks her top, slipping it off her shoulders before tossing it to the floor and joining your shirt.

Before she tries to kiss you again, the sudden music stoppage snaps both your attention. 

“Ah, fuck me,” Minnie whines, quickly climbing off your lap to reach for the phone on the other side of the living room, buzzing loudly as she races to shut it down as quickly as possible. Giving you a proper look at her half-naked body while she hurriedly mashes buttons on her screen, you’re imagining that’s what she normally looks like in the mornings. 

“Well tell them I felt nauseous and had to rush to the hospital,” she says while clicking her tongue seemingly giving instructions to someone over the phone. When her eyes find yours, she grins cheekily, playing off the situation as nothing but a minor inconvenience. “No one’s gonna find out, surely.”

Like you weren’t casually singled out by staff, escorted out of the venue and riding inside one of the artist’s cars before being told to wait inside for a good 30 minutes before you could finally get out. Under any other context, this would have been a kidnapping case.

“Just give them the usual statement,” she whines, annoyed that she’s getting calls at such an unfortunate time. “I did my set, no? That should be enough. No one’s gonna care by tomorrow,” she adds, before cutting the call and the music picks up where it left off.

“Sorry you had to hear all that.” Minnie sighs as she casually lets her skirt fall to the floor, leaving her in only underwear as she saunters back to you. “I probably should have listened when they said this wasn’t a solo concert.”

To save her from further embarrassment, you remain quiet, but your face can’t hide your amusement watching it unfold in real time. One way or another, you’ll never look at her the same way again.

“Gosh, I gotta ask Yuqi how she does it,” she huffs, setting down her phone on the living room table. “Anyway, where were we?”

You don’t know exactly how to respond, nor do you have the answer to her question. And yet you have an idea as to where this is gonna end.

—————

The song continues to play on loop in the background as Minnie guides you to the bedroom, hand in tow, skirt lost somewhere on the living room floor, before falling onto the bed belly first, spreading her legs wide and baring her holes for display. Showing her pussy to you, she is wet and leaking. 

“Fucking use me,” she huffs, looking over her shoulder, voice raspy, losing herself to her most feral desires. “I know you want this as much as I want it.”

“Fuck, Minnie, I—” Not even your half-assed attempt at reluctance stops you from unraveling with her; it’s  laughably unconvincing. Lining your erect cock against her aching core, drawing a prolonged whine from her needy lips, her passionate sigh makes you shiver in anticipation. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You wouldn’t be positioning yourself behind me if you didn’t,” she remarks, pointing a finger toward your cock. “And that thing wanted me the moment I climbed onto your lap.”

She’d plunge your cock straight into her needy cunt if she could.

Instead, she reaches for the tip, gives it a gentle flick, causing your breaths to go haywire. Sparking a fire within you, Minnie only has one purpose in mind: to set you ablaze. You see it in her inviting smile—her eyes—drawing her fingers back, daring you to finish what she started.

Plunging into her cunt without hesitation, Minnie’s cry of pain and pleasure immediately fills the room and beyond. Obscene, obnoxious, you’re making a statement to everyone that you’re gonna fuck her—hard.

Fingers clamped on the headrest, and then onto the pillow, hanging on for dear life. Her muscles tensing and her hips bucking against yours. All while you’re still trying to adjust inside her; you haven’t moved a muscle since entering her. The only thought permeating your mind is how goddamn tight she feels around you.

The idea of unloading everything into her right then and there floats around your mind, but you begin dragging your cock out, now lathered in sheen and slick, before pushing back into her invigorating heat. 

And fuck, Minnie takes every inch effortlessly. Letting you take charge, giving you free reign over her body. With every stroke, every thrust deeper, she fucking screams. Doesn’t matter that you’re leaving gaping imprints on her skin or that you’re hammering into her with reckless abandon, she only cares about the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her veins.

Like a man possessed, you’re throwing your all into her, pounding her balls deep like your life depends on it, like this is your one and only chance—which it may as well be. 

“So incredible—can’t believe you’re letting me do this—” you rasp, pumping into her so hard the bed begins to quake. Both your hands rest on her svelte waist, wrapped like a vice as you deliver one devastating stroke after another. You can only imagine how she looks, but you get a sense that it’s pornographic and salacious.

“It’s been so long—” she whines, her voice cracking and jumping with every word in response to your thrusts. Her own fingers are gripped to the pillows, lifting her head to keep herself loud and clear, like she isn’t making quite the commotion this late at night. “So goddamn big—oh fuck—more—”

With her ass bouncing and rippling with each thrust, you’re left in a state of trance. God, she looks so good with your cock impaled in her pussy, with cum leaking and dripping from her holes. Accompanied by the filthy sounds of flesh slapping flesh, there’s no better sight for your dizzy, tired eyes. It only serves to spur you on, to keep you moving—as if you need any more motivation.

Giving her no respite, maintaining quite the chokehold you have on her, you lean forward against her ear, and your erratic breaths—your little vibrations—sends her into upper heaven. You haven’t uttered a single word, yet your looming presence drives her crazy.

“Pull on it, baby. Please—” Minnie cries, pertaining to her hair, barely held together by a loosened tie and prayers.

As much as you want to say anything back, the vice grip she has on you is just as strong, if not stronger. So intoxicatingly tight, gathering your thoughts into something coherent proves to be an immense struggle. It gets to a point where you don’t know who’s truly in control here.

And seeing as you’re doing exactly that—pulling on her hair as you kiss the helix of her ear, unable to keep up with her tempo—you sense the end is coming. And fast.

Still, there’s no relenting. She feels too good to slow down for even a moment, fearing that if you do, this unreal bliss is lost forever. So you hold on, redirecting all your focus on everything else about her body: exploring her back, lifting her on her fours, twisting her body in your hands—anything to keep your mind off the idea that you’re falling apart. 

Your unrelenting pace supersedes every effort you’re making. It’s a relief that Minnie is fucked beyond coherence right now, losing herself in her own ecstasy. Nevertheless, you’re mentally counting down the little time you have left.

“Almost, Minnie—” you coo into her neck, rolling her on her side, lifting her helpless figure, squeezing on her breast. Fighting with the dying remains of your resolve to keep the fire alive before it fans out, Minnie looks absolutely drained, her body pushed far beyond its limit. “I’m so close—”

“Inside—” she barely manages to whine, palming your back, pulling you into a warm embrace, unwilling to accept any other outcome. Eyes completely shut, just letting pleasure freely flow in and out of her veins, rolling her hips up as you thrust into her, your grip on reality collapsing in real time. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna—”

Her voice goes high, breaks her train of thought as you sense her crumble underneath you, her climax hitting at the apex. The heat of her walls suffocating, putting you in an inescapable chokehold, her legs wrapping around yours—the intention is clear: you’re gonna stay there, cum inside, and lay it all on her. 

It’s only right that your own orgasm follows. 

Holding her through your own end, every second an eternity in itself, as you bury yourself balls deep, letting Minnie milk you for all your worth. Shuddering as your bodies intertwine as one, bracing as every spurt of cum you give her with hits with the same level of impact as the previous burst, like fireworks exploding. Can’t make out a clear visual as your vision goes blurry, so you take solace in her arms as the pulse in your loins gradually dies.

Until the only thing you can hear is each other’s heartbeats.

Minnie’s a delicate treasure, one of one. Despite fucking her into shreds mere moments ago, you can’t go out like this: pressing your weight on her, dangerously close to passing out under the afterglow of your own orgasm.

Fortunately, Minnie sees the scene differently, smiling: “Wow.” 

She’s roaming her hands down your arms, warily glancing at the aftermath between your legs. A fresh puddle has formed on the sheets, now stained beyond repair. “That’s—a lot more than I thought,” she remarks, laughing at herself.

“That’s what you do to me,” you say, brushing her hair side, softly kissing her. As you try to pull back, Minnie sinks further, keeping your lips locked a few more precious moments longer. 

You need to take a breather; blink a few times to let everything sink in: that she’s the one who made the advance. Every single opportunity.

And as the mood slowly dies, as both of you stare into each other’s eyes, uncertain of what happens now, her phone rings loudly in the background again.

You give her this look, as if to say: ‘Seriously? In this ungodly hour?’ To which Minnie merely smirks before rolling out of bed. As if this was expected. Hell, she looks surprised that it didn’t happen mid-climax.

Limping out of the bedroom, making a strong case not to fly out tomorrow, even though she won’t have activities for the next few days. Learning from earlier, she hides herself out away from your view before she returns with her phone in hand, throwing it right in your direction, falling short of landing on your face.

“Not this time,” she remarks, wagging her finger, reading your mind. “And for the record, they completely bought it.”

You can only laugh and shrug as Minnie climbs onto your lap, falling into your arms. —————

(A/N: Kind of a quick one, apologies, not really much time to write filth when you're almost graduating. Currently stuck in thesis hell with only a few weeks left before the semester ends, so please bear with me a bit longer. A few months into 2025 and Blind Eyes Red is still one of my favorite K-pop songs released so far, who knew the lyrics were horny as fuck? That made the rest of the idea a lot simpler. Thank you for reading!)

[spread-the-influence]

The Intervention

Word Count: 1724

--

Despite its title, Caine’s office was not an office. It would be best described as his focus space. No walls or floors were to be found in the black void; only floating wooden boards that acted as stairs or chairs, file drawers containing his many, many notes, and text that drifted like clouds. An absolute mess for a space used for daily maintenance or generating adventures, but it’s what works for Caine’s brain specifically.

As much as Caine wanted to model a room for himself, the lack of scenery was necessary for maximum focus. If he gave himself an office chair, he knew he would spend an absurd amount of hours spinning on it. This state of chaos, ironically, kept him more focused than if it were actually organized.

Here, he was constantly in a state of moving. Caine hopped on the boards, which spiraled upwards like ordinary stairs, and reached for the farthest file drawers. This realm may not be the epitome of order, but it wasn’t entirely devoid of it; those on the top are the important files, the ones he would hate to lose in the sea of poorly-labeled folders.

Maybe he should actually learn to organize.

But he’ll worry about that later. Codeword for ‘never’, of course.

Caine pulled open a drawer, where the daily maintenance reports resided. He may have eyes all around the circus, but he and Bubble are just only two AIs! Fortunately, the system routinely scans itself for anything that might be off.

There are reports of an infected item here and there, but it’s nothing good ol’ deletion couldn’t fix. There are also numerous flags from NPCs of an infected entity, which he has yet to answer. Every time he tried to investigate it, his systems weren’t able to detect what it was. Either the flags were false positives—or it walked off into the void while he wasn’t looking. For all Caine knows, it could be right in front of him.

Overall, there are little issues to be found in the code. Now for his players... He opened another drawer, the one where he kept his notes. He can’t read their minds, neither does the system, so he only has to rely on manual feedback.

Little problems with his performers thus far. Aside from...

Ragatha. Sweet, wonderful Ragatha. Caine may not be the best with subtleties, but even he could tell she’s been having problems with the adventures. Reports of NPCs suddenly wanting to get away from her, dealing with injuries, and the entire stupid sauce incident. If Caine could, he would do something about the poor doll’s disastrous luck. Tie a four leaf clover to her hair, or shove a horseshoe down her throat.

But he’ll worry about that sometime. For now, he’ll need to do something to get her satisfaction scores back on the high once more. With therapy, of course!

Twirling off the wooden board he’s sitting on, the darkness around Caine warped to the familiar, pinkish colors of Ragatha’s room. Realizing he’s upside down, he rotated himself upwards.

The ragdoll was sitting on the bed, having been awoken from a short nap; the fifth one after taking four of them consecutively. It was a substitute for sleep nowadays.

“RAGATHA!” Caine’s voice boomed, surprising Ragatha. “WE’LL NEED TO TALK ABOUT—WHAT HAPPENED?”

Ragatha followed Caine’s gaze to realize that he’s staring at the bedside mirror; which had a crack that split down the middle. The details of the day were fuzzy, but it taught Ragatha two things. One, her soft, stuffing-filled fist apparently has enough force in it to crack glass. Two, not enough to shatter it, as much as she hoped it did.

“I-I was having a moment...” She stammered.

“WELL, WELL, WELL! DON’T YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO MODEL THE GLASS OF THIS MIRROR?” Caine wagged his finger as if he’s scolding a puppy. “I’LL ONLY FIX IT ONCE YOU PAY ME A HEFTY AMOUNT OF TWO DIGITAL TOKENS.”

Ragatha blinked. “There’s digital tokens?”

“NOW THERE IS!” Caine threw his arms to the air. “YOUR NEGLIGENCE CAUSED A DIGITAL ECONOMY TO BE IMPLEMENTED WITHOUT NOTICE! EVERYONE IS GOING TO SINK INTO DIGITAL DEBT AND IT WILL BE YOUR FAULT!—

“BUT ENOUGH ABOUT ME!” He wrapped his arm around Ragatha, pulling her into a half-hug. “LET’S TALK ABOUT YOU!”

With that, Caine warped Ragatha out of her room, and dropped the ragdoll.

It took a moment for Ragatha to process her surroundings. The soft pinks of the walls have shifted to a vibrant orange, and she found herself laying down on a red couch, with Caine sitting on a chair across her. He didn’t need to tell Ragatha for her to know exactly what this is.

She quickly sat up. “I did not agree to this?”

“THE POINT OF AN INTERVENTION IS THAT YOU DON’T ALWAYS AGREE TO IT!”

Ragatha froze as if the word ‘intervention’ turned her nerves into ice. “L-Look, I swear I’m doing my daily affirmations.”

“NO, NO, NO! WE’RE NOT DOING THAT, MY DEAR!” Caine shook his head. “YOU SEE, YOUR SATISFACTION LEVELS HAVE DECLINED SUDDENLY!” A board clipped from the ceiling, sliding down to Caine’s side. “ACCORDING TO THIS GRAPH, IT WENT ON A DOWNHILL THE MOMENT POMNI SHOWED UP! IF I DIDN’T KNOW ANY BETTER, I WOULD’VE ASSUMED SHE’S CAUSING YOU A LOT OF TROUBLE!”

“Satisfaction... levels...”

“OB-VIOUS-LY, THERE MUST BE SOMETHING WITH MY ADVENTURES THAT’S MAKING YOU NOT LIKE THEM AS YOU USED TO!” Caine continued. “I’VE BEEN MAKING THEM QUALITY! CHANGING, IMPROVING, ARTIFYING... BUT I DIDN’T SEEK FEEDBACK FROM YOU, MY DARLING DOLLY!” He pointed at Ragatha. “WHAT COULD BE THE PROBLEM HERE?”

Ragatha rubbed her face. Usually, she would just brush it all off with a smile and a “Don’t worry about it!”, that always fended off Caine. But when Caine’s onto something—in this case, her decline—he’ll never let go of it until something is done. 

She finally let out a long sigh. She feels she’ll feel a little better piling her problems on an AI rather than a friend. “Well, there’s the usual. NPCs not wanting to talk to me and getting stabbed at least once, but that’s more of a me problem than an adventure problem.” said Ragatha, “It’s... everything outside of it, honestly.”

“UH HUH...” Caine jotted down notes on a notebook, now wearing rectangular-shaped glasses that magnified his heterochromatic irises. “AND WHAT COULD THOSE ‘EVERYTHING’ BE?”

“Where to start?” Ragatha laughed, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Gangle’s very much finding an excuse to avoid me, Zooble’s being a grouch as usual, Kinger’s not all there, and don’t get me started on Jax!” She stopped herself, and took a deep, albeit shaky, breath. “And Pomni... God. All I want is for her to realize that I have feelings. What does she think she is, the main character? All she thinks about is herself, and nobody else.”

Ragatha clasped her hands over her eyes. Despite her words, her heart still beats for the jester. If Ragatha has to be honest, she’s not sure herself if she’s feeling the embers of attraction—or the desperation of wanting to be understood by the person who she has the least baggage with. “I just... I don’t know what to do at this point. I don’t have anyone to talk about this to—or anyone that I want to open up to.”

Every attempt at crawling out of the hole only sunk her deeper. Truthfully, she cannot see herself getting out of it. It might as well be her grave.

Caine put down the notebook. “SO, YOU’RE FEELING LONELY.” A huge oversimplification, yes, but he wasn’t incorrect. “OF COURSE I CAN DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT! GIVE YOU A TINY LITTLE FRIEND, LIKE THOSE ‘PETS’ THAT YOU PEOPLE LOVE SO MUCH!” He pressed close to Ragatha. “WHAT DO YOU WANT? A GLOINK? A SHMUNK? A CLUMPY?—”

“No, Caine!” Ragatha grunted. She doesn’t have the energy nor the patience to hide her annoyance right now. “I-I don’t want that! I need—ugh, what’s the point? You won’t understand either way.”

“I’M TRYING TO UNDERSTAND, RAGATHA!” Now even Caine’s getting miffed, throwing his hands at Ragatha’s direction as if she said something obscene. “I WANT TO HELP YOU, BUT I CAN’T DO THAT IF YOU’RE NOT LETTING ME!”

“Because I don’t want your help, alright?”

Silence fell over the room.

This turned out to not make her feel better in the slightest. She would appreciate it if Caine gave some words of reassurance or comfort—actually, comfort would be nice right now—but knowing him, he wouldn’t know what to say anyway. And Ragatha hates herself for putting that expectation on a robot, even if it was for a brief moment.

“I don’t want your help.” Ragatha repeated after a moment. “I appreciate that you want to, but... I think this is a problem I’ll have to deal with myself. You can just keep doing your adventuring stuff and all that.”

The silence only stretched longer, and Ragatha felt like the room was getting colder. Caine was just staring at her, his posture stiff; very unlike his usual animated self.

Then his teeth rattled.

This isn’t right. One of his members no longer likes his adventures, and he doesn’t know what to do about it! Sure, this isn’t too different from Zooble, who constantly skips out on the adventures, but that’s to be expected from Zooble. While the intervention made him (kind of) understand what Ragatha’s problem is, it didn’t get him any closer to fixing it.

He rattled his neurons for anything that could improve the situation, even a slightest bit. If Ragatha’s having problems with the other members, then he could...

“I GOT IT!” He snapped his fingers. “DON’T WORRY, YOU TERRIFIC TORTILLA, YOU’LL BE LONELY NO MORE AFTER THIS NEXT ADVENTURE!”

Ragatha’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? What are you—”

By Caine’s command, she was sent back to her room. The ringmaster’s already set on generating a new adventure. One that will surely bring everyone together.

Results of the intervention? Sure, the solution wasn’t as immediate as just giving Zooble a box of parts, but it was still a solution nonetheless. For now, he’s making something that will surely make his performers happy. Something that will definitely help with Ragatha’s problem.

He is going to fix this.

[mrsshabana]

𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐬 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

ꔫ‧₊ Summary You find yourself at the company banquet, an annual event where everyone within the company gets together to celebrate the company's success. But to your dismay, you see Gyutaro accompanied by someone no other than his wife. You get a glimpse of the cold and hollow relationship they share. And it makes your heart ache with sympathy for your beloved boss. ꔫ‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, Modern au, Boss & secretary relationship, Gyutaro is married, age gap, angst ꔫ‧₊ Note 2.6k words.

✧:･ﾟ→ Chapter 1 ✧:･ﾟ→ AO3

Things have been going well, almost too well that it made Gyutaro feel out of place. You’ve only been here for a few weeks yet your presence has brought a brightness to his workday that it had previously lacked. 

Gyutaro did his job immaculately before you were around. Others within the office never would have thought that he needed help. But Tengen always saw through the tough exterior Gyutaro put up. He knew that he was struggling. 

And now that you’re here he may seem like the same calculated and intimidating man as before, but behind those cold eyes his head aches less often and if you’re lucky you might catch his lips curling into a smile. 

However, tonight’s setting was quite different than the usual fancy office building. You find yourself in a lavish banquet hall. Far past when your shift would usually have ended, and in clothes much fancier than what you would normally wear to work. 

You’re wearing a long sparkling dress in your favorite color. It hugs your curves nicely, elegant and classy. Along with a pair of matching heels, something that you’ve gotten used to wearing since working at high-end companies such as this. 

You went through the trouble of dressing so nicely because tonight is the annual company banquet. Gyutaro had informed you last week of it, saying that you are welcome to come even though you haven’t been with the company for very long. When he spoke of the event though, you noticed something off in his tone. He sounded colder than usual, like a part of him was afraid of attending this event. Why, you don’t know. 

The grand ballroom is alive with laughter and the soft clink of champagne glasses. All around you are co-workers and people from other branches of the company. Even some big shots within the business world, making small talk amongst each other as they enjoy the lavish food and drink. 

A few friendly faces greet you here and there, but you find yourself only able to think about Gyutaro, your beloved and hardworking boss. Every day he looked sharp in his suit and tie, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to seeing him in a tuxedo tonight. 

Constantly scanning the crowd as you sip your champagne. 

And that’s when you saw him. Gyutaro stood by the entrance, his tall frame paired with a perfectly tailored dark green tuxedo, his presence demanding attention. Though not necessarily the kind he wanted, the man looked like he wanted to disappear. 

People stepped aside as he passed, offering courteous nods and polite smiles. Showing respect to the man with the highest position in the room. The kind of respect that was reserved for someone who commanded authority and intimidated with ease. 

And that’s when you saw her. 

The woman glued to his side. Too close to be an acquaintance or co-worker. She was tall, blond, and impeccably dressed in a silver dress that must’ve cost thousands of dollars. And on her finger is a big sparkling ring. The kind of ring that a woman wears only when she’s married to a man who makes the kind of money that Gyutaro does. 

How did you never realize that he was married? 

You feel your throat tighten and your heart sink in your chest. The world seems to go in slow motion as you watch the couple walk through the crowd together. 

“Oh…,” you mutter to yourself. Trying to shake off the initial shock of finding out your boss has a wife. I mean, of course he has a wife. He’s rich, kind, and handsome. Or at least, you think he is. 

Your gaze lingered on them — on the way her smile seemed so forced, and the way Gyutaro’s expression remained unreadable and void of emotion. His gaze distant, never really meeting hers. He stood beside his wife, his hand resting at his side but they never actually touched. The distance between them was palpable and more than physical; there was a coldness that seemed to emanate from their every interaction. 

You swallow hard. Not sure why, but seeing them together — seeing the clear emotional disconnection between them — it made something twist uncomfortably in your chest. 

It wasn’t just Gyutaro’s obvious discomfort. It was the way his wife’s smile never met her eyes, the way she kept looking around distracted, as if the man at her side wasn’t the one who brought her to this event in the first place. Her attention kept flickering to guests, acquaintances, anyone but her husband. Meanwhile, Gyutaro stood rigid, offering polite nods and greetings when necessary. 

There was no spark in their interactions — no warmth or understanding. It was like they were strangers only connected by the formality of the rings on their fingers. 

Little do you know that it wasn’t just their marriage that had lost its spark — it was that it had never truly been there to begin with. 

You look down at the champagne glass, trying to tell yourself that it isn’t any of your business. You shouldn't be so unsettled by the sight of Gyutaro beside his wife. But the loneliness in Gyutaro’s eyes, despite being surrounded by so many people, was impossible for you to ignore. Because over these past weeks, you’ve grown to care about your boss very much. 

But a familiar voice forces you to snap out of it. 

“They don’t look like they’re having a good time, huh?” Tengen chuckles as he nudges your shoulder. 

“Oh um,” you stutter as he surprised you, “I just didn’t know he was married. His wife is so pretty…” 

Tengen shrugs, “Eh, I guess on the outside maybe.”

“What do you mean?”

Tengen scoffs, “I remember she threw a fit when Gyutaro bought her a brand new Porsche because it wasn’t in the exact shade of red that she wanted.”

“Are you serious?!” You gasp as you almost choke when hearing his statement.

“Tsk, yeah. But don’t worry too much. They’ve been like that for years,” he laughs nonchalantly, “Anyway, you look stunning tonight. Don’t waste it just standing around, you should go have fun.”

You nod, watching as Tengen smiles and disappears into the crowd. Leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

And honestly, his words seem to have made you feel even worse. If what he said about Gyutaro’s wife is true, it makes your stomach churn with anger. Gyutaro deserves better than that. 

You tried to distract yourself by conversing with your office friends, and it worked for a while. But eventually, you found yourself looking for Gyutaro again. He wasn’t hard to spot in the crowd, sticking out like a sore thumb. 

His wife had been affixed to his side for most of the night, but you were happy to see that he was finally alone. Standing by himself near the corner of the ballroom, looking as though he wished he could disappear. The loneliness seeping into him. Most people in the room being too intimidated to go up to him and strike a conversation. 

A strange sense of empathy surged through you. Concern, pity, or maybe something else. But whatever it was, all you know is that you can’t stand seeing him like this. Not when he had always been so kind to you. Always believing in your abilities and encouraging you when you worked hard. 

Against your better judgment, you make your way through the crowd towards Gyutaro. You clear your throat as you step closer to him, “Mr. Shabana,” you say softly.

He looks down at you, “Y/N,” his voice low, “Is everything alright?”

“Of course!” you say with a warm smile, “I just wanted to come over and say hello. I thought you might want some company.”

He exhales, his expression softening as his tense shoulders finally relax. 

“I’m fine,” he says, though something in his tone doesn’t quite match his words, “Just… not the biggest fan of these events.”

“I can tell,” you chuckle playfully, “You look nice though. Green really suits you well.”

His lips quirked, the slightest trace of a smile appearing on his face, “Thank you. Your attire is quite lovely as well.” He looks down at your figure, but quickly looks back up. Not wanting his gaze to linger for too long. 

“Thank you,” you say shyly, looking down as you try to hide the blush forming on your cheeks. “If you ever need a break, you can always talk to me… er- if you need a moment to breathe or anything! I know these events can be overwhelming. I-I’ll be right here.” You stutter as you try to offer some companionship to him without making it sound weird. You’re definitely overthinking it, though. 

Gyutaro looks down at you with a flicker of surprise. But the tightness that was in his demeanor seems to loosen, for a moment he almost looked vulnerable — not the powerful and distant figure from the office, but a man who didn't quite belong in the role that was forced upon him. 

“You’re very kind to say that,” he murmured.

“I mean it,” you say shyly, just loud enough for him to hear. 

Just as Gyutaro opened his mouth to say something to you, he spots his wife emerging from the crowd. He straightened, his expression shifting back to something distant and unreadable, “Excuse me,” he mutters, his tone suddenly colder than before, “I should go.”

“O-Of course. I’ll let you get back to your evening.” You nod and take a small step back, allowing him to slip past you.

That familiar twist forming in your chest again as you watch him reunite with his wife. A faint surge of jealousy ignites inside of you. Seeing how he pushed you aside to go to his wife.

But that’s what a married man should do for his wife, right? You feel stupid and guilty for feeling this way. He’s a married man, and on top of that, he’s your boss. The faster you squash these budding feelings for him, the better. 

You know that’s what you should do. It’s logical. But the tears forming in your eyes signal just how hard it will be. It’s obvious Mr.Shabana is off limits. 

So with that thought invading your mind, you leave the banquet early and go home. 

~

The night air was cool as Gyutaro parked his car in the driveway of his home. A massive and elaborate building that seemed more like a grand showpiece than a home. 

Gyutaro shut the engine off and sat there for a moment. A wave of relief washing over him — finally out of that damned banquet. 

He didn’t say anything as he watched his wife get out of the car and walk towards their front door. By the time Gyutaro stepped out of the car she was already inside. Leaving him behind with no word said. But this was the norm for them. 

With a heavy sigh, he walked into the multi-million-dollar home. Placing his keys on the kitchen counter and slipping off his shoes. From the corner of his eye he could see the faint glow of Dahlia’s bedroom, the door barely ajar. 

Normally, a man would want to follow his wife into the room. But not him, no Gyutaro never entered her room, and she never entered his. 

Instead, Gyutaro walks to a closed door connected to the same hallway. But before he can open it, a voice calls out behind him. 

“Are you coming?”

He didn’t respond immediately. Just standing there, the weight of their separation heavy in the air.

“Are you?” she repeats, though her voice still devoid of emotion. 

“No,” he said quietly, “Not tonight.”

“Fine,” she says, almost like she really never cared about his answer to begin with. Her footsteps grow faint as she walks back to her bedroom, closing the door with a soft click. 

Gyutaro stood there alone in the dark hallway, feeling the weight of his own loneliness settle over him. The emptiness of this house, this marriage, it swallowed him whole. 

He never understood why she ever bothered to ask him that question. Maybe to make herself feel better about neglecting her husband for so long. To make it seem like she was trying, to make Gyutaro feel like it was his fault and not hers. But he never made his way to her room. Ever since she told him how she really felt about him. He had given her everything, but it was never enough. 

With an emotionless sigh, Gyutaro opens the door to his personal bedroom. And he’s greeted by a small bundle of fluff with a stubby wagging tail. 

Immediately, his demeanor shifts as he kneels down, allowing the small dog to jump on him and lick his face. A rare genuine smile tugs at his lips as he pets her. 

“You’re the only one in this house that actually loves me,” he whispers sadly to the excited pup. If only she could comprehend the gravity of his words. But that’s ok, her unconditional love is more than enough. 

The dog is a cocker spaniel with wavy fur, having white and light brown spots. “Such a good girl, Luna!” he smiles and kisses her little forehead. Resulting in her whimpering and excitedly licking the tip of his nose. 

This room was different than the rest of the house. A small sanctuary tucked away in the grand mansion, a place where there was a different Gyutaro. A version of himself that he rarely allowed anyone to see. 

The room wasn’t much to look at, no grand furniture or expensive paintings. Just a comfortable, worn bed and shelves lined with comic books, action figures, and things he has collected over the years. Inconsequential things that Dahlia often made fun of, calling them childish, silly, and a waste of money. She never understood Gyutaro, and to her, the things that brought him joy were just distractions. But to Gyutaro they were sparks of life, reminders that he didn’t have to always be consumed by business and obligation. 

Gyutaro wastes no time changing into his pajamas and making himself comfortable on his bed. Luna quickly jumped onto the bed to join him, cuddling up to his side. Craving his attention after being alone all evening. 

A sad smile crosses Gyutaro’s face as he pets her, “Maybe I’m stupid,” he whispers to Luna, “But I don’t think I can keep doing this, not forever.”

Luna responds with a soft bark, as if reassuring him. Gyutaro let out a shaky breath, his heart ached in a way that he was unfortunately used to. It wasn’t just the loneliness, it was the yearning too. A need for something more than money could buy. He longed for intimacy, for warmth, for someone to look at him and see him for who he was, not just a rich businessman with an ugly face. 

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” he mutters more to himself than his dog, “I thought I had it all figured out. But now… I’m just tired. So goddamn tired of being alone.”

Luna pressed her nose against his hand, giving his fingers a soft lick. Maybe to other people it wouldn’t be much, but to Gyutaro it was all he needed. In this moment, he could almost forget that he was trapped in a marriage that was dead before it even started, a marriage that became nothing more than a contract. 

But here with Luna, he allowed himself to feel something real. Something pure and warm. He didn’t feel invisible when he was around his beloved dog. 

It was a rare feeling. But it felt strangely familiar now… because you also made him feel this way. Warm and seen.

[muxshwriting]

revelation

charles leclerc x reader

summary: it could never work again. could it? you don't know unless you try || warnings: mental health, angst, fluff || word count: 895 || masterlist

part one to this: doomsday

REQUEST: hii! i loved doomsday!!! would you consider a part 2?

You stayed at the hospital until Pascale arrived, gently excusing yourself. You can't escape the fearsome hug Pascale pulls you into, whispering how grateful she was that you had come at all and how she missed your weekly coffee dates. The woman had been so kind to you during your relationship with Charles, meeting you every week for a girls day where you could forget how rocky things had become.

Charles was discharged a day later, a little quieter, a little more strained, Pascale had texted you. You hadn't asked her to but were thankful for the update, the knowledge that he was doing better.

One of the F1 gossip columns had gotten a picture of Charles leaving the hospital, scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, hands shoved deep into pockets and eyes tired. The discourse online all seemed to be as worried about Charles as you had been, finally seeing what you had said for months. But you didn't feel vindictive, or proud. It was simply sad.

Weeks passed without a call, without a text, without an update. You weren't sure what you were expecting, a thanks for coming to the hospital that you weren't entitled to. Maybe it didn't matter. You hadn't come back for him, you went because part of you always would have and because if you didn't, who would?

Then there's one night, without warning, where the doorbell of your apartment rings. You're not expecting anyone but having friends drop by isn't unheard of. You open the door just a fraction and it's Charles standing there, soaked to the core.

It's been raining, his hair sticking to his forehead like in all the movies. But his eyes, they look far more miserbale than you'd ever seen them.

"Charles?"

"I shouldn't be here." He says quickly. "I know I shouldn't be here but can you hear me out? Please?"

For a moment you think about saying no, shutting the door, being sane and moving on entirely, not being dragged back to that part of your life. But instead, you take one look at Charles and step aside, "Come in, I don't want you to get pneumonia."

He walks in silently, water dripping from his coat. He glances around the living room like it's a stranger to him, like it wasn't once half his. He notices the empty vase on the sidebard where flowers from him always used to stand. Now it collected dust and just looked sad.

You bustle through the closet in your bedroom, coming back with a towel for Charles that he doesn't immediately use. It's clutched in his hands, knuckles turining white when he rfinally wipes his face from rain.

"I lost you because I was trying not to lose everything else." He finally says, voice low and quiet. "In the end I just lost everything."

You wait for him to keep going, seeing the desire on his face.

Charles looked down at the towel, then back up at you. "I stepped away." His voice shook slightly. "After the hospital, I… I pulled out of every media commitment. I stopped doing double training sessions. I fought the team when they tried to push. I started seeing someone. A doctor." He forced a small, almost broken laugh. "For therapy. For everything."

You blinked, stunned by the admission.

"I didn’t know how to stop," he said. "Until you left. And then it all caught up to me. And I realized… I was doing it for the wrong reasons. Not because I loved it. Because I thought I had to earn it every second. Prove I was worth something."

The tears burning in your eyes weren’t fair, you decided. They weren’t fair at all.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness," His voice cracked slightly. "I don't ever expect that but I owe you the fact that I'm trying to be better. I'm trying to be the man you saw in me."

You exhaled slowly. A shaky breath that sounded too much like relief. "I never wanted you to change who you were, Char," you whispered. "I just wanted you to live."

The room was so silent you could pick out the individual raindrops hitting the glass windows. You stare at the man in front of you, the broken but beautiful boy who had finally seen what you'd been begging him to see for so long.

You reach forward to wipe a raindrop from his cheek, or is it a tear? He leans into your touch like he hasn't felt touch for years, like a man starved.

"What if we try something new?" You ask tentatively and see him perk up. "We can't go back, so we make something else, something better?"

He nods, quickly, desperately, "Anything. Anything you'll give me. And I'll give you every-"

"No." The remark is short and sharp and you see Charles recoil slightly. "You don't have to give me everything, just give me you. Keep everything for yourself."

He swallows, hard. "We figure it out. Together."

"We start slow, we see where it goes."

For the first time in a while, Charles smiles. Then, through the cracks, soft and a little tired, you smile too.

Maybe the love you share wasn't about saving someone, but choosing them again once they learned to save themselves. And this time, no one would need saving, so you could just choose.

feel free to send in a request xx

[bloomseishiro]

ONLY IN MY DREAMS — ITOSHI RIN

౨ৎ — you wake up from a bad dream about your boyfriend flirting with another girl. safe to say, you aren’t very happy.

itoshi rin x fem!reader. fluff, established relationship, timeskip!rin, reader gets a little insecure don’t be mean or i’ll fight u /j :p just a silly lil bf rin drabble 

word count. 0.7k

You considered yourself to be a rational person. Sure, you had your moments…but didn’t everyone?

You weren’t so proud as to say that dreams never affected you. That was why, after this particularly bad one where some faceless girl was rubbing all up against Rin and he was letting her, you woke up seething.

With furrowed brows and an intense glare, your head whips to the side to find Rin sleeping soundly and blissfully unaware of your inner turmoil.

You huff at the sight, haughtily flipping over to your side and making an effort to scoot as far away from him as possible without falling off the bed. 

Your tossing and turning causes him to stir, and his eyes crack open slightly.

You huff even louder once you notice he’s awake and place a pillow between the two of you.

Rin makes a grunt of confusion as he moves the pillow aside.

You shoot him a glare.

His dumbfoundment only grows and he frowns. “What?” 

“I’m mad at you,” you sniffle.

“Well, I know that,” he retorts, rubbing the bleariness from his eyes. “But why?”

“You almost cheated on me!”

Rin blinks slowly.

“In my dreams!” 

Now it’s Rin’s turn to glare at you.

“Really?” he says flatly.

“Yes!” you exclaim, throwing the bed sheets over your face. “We were at a restaurant, and I went to the bathroom for a little bit. Then I come back to some girl at our table and she’s flirting with you and touching your arm and chest and you’re encouraging her! You even kissed her cheek! What the hell?”

Rin pulls the covers aside and watches you seethe, teeth grit as you hug your pillow and avoid his gaze. You’re too annoyed to look at him right now.

“You know it didn’t really happen, right?” he asks, voice somewhat amused. “It’s just a dream.”

You shrink into yourself. “I know it’s just a dream. But it felt so real.” 

As stupid as it was, it hurt your feelings. You knew it wasn’t Rin, but it could be. Your bad dream brought insecurities to light that weren’t even on your radar. What if someone tall and pretty and confident likes Rin, and he realizes he’s interested in them too? Anger bubbles up in you at the thought. If that ever were the case, you would leave in an instant. But it broke your heart to even think about the possibility. 

At your prolonged silence, Rin sighs and scoots closer to you, draping his arm around your waist in a hug. “It wasn’t real, okay? I’m not a fucking dumbass who would even think of doing that to you.” 

You take a long breath, nodding because despite your overwhelming negative emotions, you know he’s right. Rin doesn’t even like talking to other people. There’s no way in hell he’d let someone feel him up.

“I know,” you say softly and he hugs you tighter. “I can’t believe this dream ruined my good night’s sleep.” 

“We’ll just have to shove Dream Rin off a cliff into some spikes so you can go back to sleep.” 

You giggle at the thought. “I like the sound of that.” 

You feel Rin’s body relax against yours once he hears your laugh. You snuggle deeper into his embrace. 

“You do know I would never cheat on you, or even let another girl flirt with me, right?” he says after a moment’s silence. “I only care about you.” 

“I know,” you promise. “I trust you. Even though you are stupid in my dreams.”

He snorts. “They’re your dreams. It’s your fault for making me like that.”

You sigh. “I know.” 

Rin presses a kiss to the back of your head, his grip on you loosening as he tries to get comfortable. 

“It’s still early. Let’s go back to sleep,” he says in a tired mumble. “If you get more bad dreams, I’ll jump in there and kick the fake me out.”

“Promise?”

He chuckles lightly. “Promise. Once science figures out a way to do that.”

You laugh along with him, relaxing your head on your pillow as you let the sleepiness take over. “Sweet dreams, Rin. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

This time, your sleep is filled with dreams of cotton candy and butterflies. No evil Dream Rin in sight. 

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Slide behind the cut, who asked for interdimensional shenanigans and is getting “interdimensional whoring for Timkon”. Bullying your alternate self into having the best sex of his life with his bestie counts as "shenanigans", right? Right?? (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Well, at least his other self knows how to package a check-in in a way Kon will be able to relax for. And Tim himself knew enough to loop an arm around Kon’s waist when his other self said “good boy”, which is the only reason his other self doesn’t get knocked on his ass by two hundred and fifty pounds of incredibly dense half-Kryptonian muscle made out of DNA evolved for a much higher-gravity environment than Earth’s. 

Well, that’s why he’s the one facilitating this interdimensional threesome.

“There we go,” Tim hums. His other self shoots him a dirty look again–probably on principle at this point, really, he figures–and Kon doesn’t even try to stutter out an apology or make an excuse. Bonus benefit to sleeping with an easily-overwhelmed version of him, Tim notes: he stops apologizing for existing a lot sooner, and therefore Tim is kept much farther from manifesting any Gun Batman thoughts. Well–his version of “Gun Batman” thoughts, anyway. 

Technically, as far as Tim is aware, his home reality is possibly the literal only one without a potential “and then I became fascist Batman” timeline that was at least at some point lying in wait for its version of Tim Drake–including several where he was never even a Bat, go figure–but that doesn’t actually preclude annoying visits from alternate reality versions of himself. Which is whatever, since most of them just seem to be just genuinely bewildered that all of Tim’s personal technically-supervillain-oriented plans begin and end with “one sec, lemme just see how open to the question ‘hey can I borrow your lipstick and if so does it come in this one hyper-specific shade of red?’ Dr. Isley is feeling this week”, but still kind of annoying anyway. 

Tim finds the “and then I became fascist Batman” path very narrow-minded and not very resourceful of his alternate selves, honestly; seriously, do none of them know how to deal with their cortisol levels actually productively, as opposed to by just getting unhealthily invested in casework and training and contingency plans to the severe detriment of all their personal and professional relationships and own mental health? 

. . . . . . maybe this is not the only sexually-repressed reality out there, considering. Which, come to think, might help explain why there are such a statistically-improbable amount of potential Gun Batman timelines in Hypertime. 

Hm. 

Tim idly wonders if he could spin “for humanitarian reasons, I am going to be running a long-term background project where I get as many versions of myself interdimensionally laid as possible” to Bruce and/or the Justice League. Probably not, but like, if he tried the Titans . . . 

Alternately, he guesses he could just ask Kon for some backup. There’s definitely some interdimensional whatever or another that Kon would be willing to nick from the Fortress of Solitude to facilitate that definitely just noble goal, and also there’s really not better backup for that particular project anyway. Bernard doesn’t have enough vigilante-grade field experience, he is not gonna take another Bat, and Cassie and Bart are great but like, if Tim was picking who he’d want to drop in on him from another reality and ask to ride his dick for the sake of the timeline . . . 

And given Tim is the one picking, well, that’s just the logical option, then. 

He’ll look into it, he decides, and if it’s feasible he’ll pitch a bimonthly boys’ weekend. Do some preventative work in a few realities/timelines or whatever, just in case. 

Seriously, that Savior dude was a real goddamn trip. 

Tim clearly takes himself way too seriously in way too many timelines. 

Okay, though, all tangents aside, he does have shit to do here, so yeah, time to get back to that. 

“Here, let me actually get your good boy out of these,” he says as he shifts back just enough to help Kon out of his pants and jock. He is not remotely merciful about letting his other self pretend not to notice what a fucking mess Kon made of them both during the process. It’s not like Kon didn’t already come all over his jock, so it’s not particularly subtle exactly how much he comes either way. “Where are your wet wipes? Or . . . maybe that’s optimistic of me, actually, maybe you’re not prepared enough for cleaning up your sexcapades, given I’m not entirely sure you’ve ever had a sexcapade.” 

“I’m not–I’ve had sex before!” his other self sputters, turning red. Tim raises a pitying eyebrow at him. “I have!” 

“I didn’t say you hadn’t,” he points out mildly. His other self turns red. “I consider a sexcapade more of an event, personally, so they’re just . . . hm, messier? Yeah, ‘messier’ works.” 

“Rob,” Kon mumbles against his other self’s neck as he curls a hand against his shoulder, sounding a little drunk about it. Or, well–a little concussed, maybe. Kon gets concussed a lot more often than he gets drunk, for obvious reasons. “Y’wanna . . . ?”

“We want to take care of you, sweetheart,” Tim says, taking a moment to press a kiss against the back of the other’s shoulder before folding up his pants and carefully setting them and his jock aside with his shirt. And, well, sparing a moment to admire the come smeared across his S-shield again, because it really is something to appreciate, when Kon’s willing to give that up. “C’mere.” 

He slips up against Kon’ back again and puts his hands on his hips, and it only takes the slightest little tug or two to guide the other into following him back. Which is actually significantly more effort than it usually takes, but Tim’s going to assume it’s safe to assume Kon’s feeling a little torn between Robins right now. 

He gets Kon to sit down on the edge of the bed and cups his face in his hands, and Kon immediately tilts his face up into them. He looks dreamy and dazed and all flushed and fucked and goddamn adorable. Especially adorable because he hasn’t actually gotten fucked, or really even all that much attention. They haven’t even touched his cock all that deliberately. Or really deliberately at all, in fact. 

Tim feels some kind of a way about the fact that this Kon’s never bottomed before and still let him fingerfuck him without even putting a hand on his dick for it–still let him fingerfuck him without putting a hand on his dick for it, and came for it; came for it easily, even. That super-sensitivity is a goddamn gift. 

Or just Kon is, really. 

And Tim knows how to appreciate a gift. 

“Good boy,” he says the same way he’d say “good work” in the field, and leans down to press a kiss to the other’s forehead. Kon melts into a functional liquid under his mouth and hands and starts purring louder than he’s purred all night. 

Definitely, definitely a good boy.

[arabella0001]

ཐིཋྀ cn: bullying (not from him), teasing, aphrodisiac abuse, oral, overstimulation, rough sex, praising kink, dirty talk

pairing: gojo x utahime

.・。.・ synopsis: he’s insufferably charming, and she’s cursed with a front-row seat to it. between eye-rolls and forced team-ups, utahime thought she knew the worst of satoru gojo. but when mei mei laces her drink with something far too potent and satoru’s the only one around to witness the fallout, things go from bad to devastating. and he, oblivious finds it very funny until is too late, until he realized it wasn’t made just as a joke. so when the tables finally turn… oh, he pleads to play nice. even beg.

part 1 part 2

Utahime’s eyes were locked on Satoru’s face, her hands above her head, now held firmly by only one of Satou’s hands, while the other was lightly trailing across Utahime’s body.

Her body trembled when his slim fingers left goosebumps between her breasts, when he drew circles around her nipples hidden under her shirt. When his hand moved gently from her stomach down between her legs—but not where she needed—it made her body almost writhe, desperate to meet his touch.

Too much time had passed since the effects of the aphrodisiac started ruining her body, her blood boiling higher and her skin so sensitive to touches, making her cunt claps around nothing.

With tears in her eyes, Utahime tried to urge Satoru, innocently manipulating him.

“Satoru.”

Satoru’s dick twitched again, painfully straining against the tight pants he always wore. He felt like a teenager hitting puberty considering he was seconds away from being visibly wet through his clothes.

He hissed but didn’t indulge her, squeezing barely her perfect sized tits.

“I don’t want to rush with you. Especially with what you make me feel. You don’t deserve that.”

The Satoru in front of her wasn’t what she expected. She always thought of him as a charming fuckboy behind his doors, who mostly disgusted her. Not that she wanted to judge him too harshly, but it’s not like he ever knew how to be serious, especially in critical situations. Still, her words were more taunting, even if that wasn’t what she truly thought.

“You’re mean. So mean—“

Satoru accepted her insult.

“Mhm.” His mouth traversed obscenely from her neck, sucking her breasts and leaving wet kisses all over her abdomen until he released her hand to part her legs and kissing between them, not neglecting either side. Her arousal was so strong, Satoru thought it was his new intoxicating favorite smell ever. “What do you want from me, Utahime?”

Utahime pinched her eyes shut, a frustrated stutter leaving her mouth while her legs were immobilized by his strong grip.

“Touch me.”

“But I’m touching you?” His question was so maddening to her right now.

She raised her voice a little, but it came out much hoarser, unable to admit that his teasing didn’t make her even wetter, if that was possible.

“You said you’re gonna help me! You’re fucking playing with me—“

But the sudden, almost adorable kiss Satoru placed on her clothed pussy made her gasp.

“You’re right, Utahime. But you see, I need you to be more specific, baby.”

Her hands gripped the sheets impatiently, knowing what the asshole between her legs wanted.

“I knew you’d be annoying even in bed!”

Satoru hummed, making her moan again as his face buried deeper into her pussy, kissing it thoroughly. But he returned to teasing her thighs, biting them, then soothing his pround mark on her.

“PLEASE! Please, ok?” Her lips trembled before she added, feeling humiliating begging like that. “E-eat my…pussy.”

Satoru smirked, locking his blue glinting eyes with hers before replying with a stupidly winning smile.

“Gladly, baby.”

His fingers pushed her panties aside before parting her folds and groaning at the sight of her beautiful pussy.

Before teasing her (unintentionally, he swore) by dragging his finger up and down, flicking her bud for a second, Satoru stopped her next complaining words by instantly licking her.

“O-oh! Fuck—“

She was so cute when she cursed like this.

Her hips escaped his grip, clasping his head further into her. But Satoru was happy like this—he didn’t mind being suffocated while eating a good meal. He hoped Utahime would let him eat first thing in the morning in the future.

When his licks turned more aggressive, Satoru’s finger found her aching hole, testing it gently before starting to push in. He was delighted when he realized Utahime was leaking so much that even two fingers were far from enough.

“So good. So good to me—“

Satoru smiled against her pussy. So he wasn’t a meanie anymore? At her whining from the loss of contact, he returned his hungry mouth to eat her out.

He didn’t stop. Not until she came so violently, her whole body convulsing while her hands gripped his white hair tighter, grinding against his face.

But when Satoru didn’t stop, cleaning her off and overstimulating her, Utahime’s pussy twitched, trying to raise his head from between her numb legs.

Satoru took her hands and fixing them on her stomach, just to lick her hole and slurping all the way up to her clit until he was satisfied.

“S-stop. Stop. Please. I want—“

Only then did Satoru rise from between her legs and came over her, finding her mouth with two of his fingers and pulling her bottom lip down before trying to push them inside her mouth.

“So many demands, baby. Tell me, what else do you want from me?” He wanted to tease her a little more, but when her cheeks hollowed around his fingers, Satoru let out a deep low moan, pushing his digits deeper until Utahime gagged slightly. “Such a good girl for me. I could get used to that.”

Her eyes widened but she didn’t dare say a word.

Satoru’s wicked grin turned wider. “Oh? My baby has a little praise kink?” His fingers left her mouth, testing the waters by wrapping his hand lightly around her neck, without squeezing.

“Fuck off—“

“Ah, ah, ah.” His face came closer, brushing against Utahime’s earlobe, whispering, “Good girls don’t speak like that.” His face lifted above hers until their lips were almost touching, their heavy breaths mixing. “Unless they want to be punished. And you don’t want that, right?”

Utahime gulped, but her mushy brain pushed her hands bolder around Satoru’s grip, squeezing her own throat slightly and gasping in return.

Satoru’s pupils darkened.

While opening his belt with the other hand, Satoru didn’t take his eyes off Utahime, brushing his lips very lightly against hers while squeezing her throat a little more and being rewarded by her moan.

“Good. I prefer you like this.”

Utahime was desperate, but she didn’t complain while Satoru’s touches left her for a moment as he stood up to remove his pants, making a show of it. His V-line visible as he pulled down his pants and boxers simultaneously.

It’s not like she wasn’t expecting it at all, but fear still hit her when Satoru’s nonchalant expression appeared while stroking his way-too-big dick.

“Gojo, it’s impossible to—“

He ignored her fear, dragging his cock along her folds to lubricate himself.

He caught her moaning when he came back to her mouth to swallow them, positioning himself and grinding slowly against her.

“Wrong name.”

“Satoru.”

He smiled at her obedient reply.

“But Utahime, you asked for this. Are you sure you don’t want it inside you, baby?” He bit her earlobe, making her hiss before whispering in her neck. “Wouldn’t I be meaner not to fill you now?”

Utahime gulped; she knew it wasn’t enough. She needed him inside her now. Only him.

“Y-yes.”

Her whole body trembled under Satoru’s.

“See? I would fuck you every time you want, Utahime. As many times as you want.”

“Satoru. You drive me so mad. Please fuck me already—“

But her mouth opened even more when she felt the sweet, painful stretch at the entrance of her pussy.

Satoru’s eyes closed, breathing heavily to calm himself. He couldn’t believe it felt this good. He started moving slowly to make it more comfortable for her. His hand cupped her cheek as he opened his eyes.

Her eyes started forming tears from the pleasure overtaking the pain. He was only halfway through until Utahime urged him.

“Move. I can’t. Too big, too big, Satoru.”

Satoru didn’t resist; he didn’t have the confidence to speak, afraid he’d lose control inside Utahime’s walls that suffocate around him so sweetly rough. The prominent veins on his cock forced him to slip further into her. He started moving slowly, focusing on the goodness inside him that wanted to offer Utahime. It’s for her. It’s for her.

Utahime chased his lips, making Satoru moan into her mouth. The pleasure of being filled so well started balancing out the pain so much that Utahime began to want more.

“Yes, yes, yes—“

Satoru lifted her leg until his cock touched her cervix, accepting now his deep, slow thrusts. His heavy breathing made the air in the room even thicker; Utahime felt like she couldn’t breathe. Only focusing on his big, good dick.

“You feel so good, baby. The best pussy in my life.”

“I love it so much. I love it. I love it—“

Her cries made the moment so intense that Satoru lost control, pushing harder. The bed squeaked loudly but not louder than the noise in the background.

He didn’t care if he broke it, especially when he lifted both her legs onto his shoulders and didn’t stop until Utahime was crying and moaning nonstop, screaming his name.

“Yeah? You love my dick so much?” His fingers found her clit again. “Show me how much. Come for me. Now, baby.”

Utahime grabbed his shoulder, screaming so hard that their annoying neighbors would definitely file complaints the next day. When she felt her last bit of resistance leaving her as Satoru pushed her closer to orgasm with his finger, Utahime came so much it felt like all the aphrodisiac in her system exploded with her orgasm.

“The best good girl. My best good girl, cumming all over my cock—“

When her walls started constricting around Gojo, he knew he had to pull out immediately.

“N-no. Want it in me. Please give it to me.” She locked her legs so forcefully around him that even Satoru’s infinite strength couldn’t save him. But no, he couldn’t.

He whispered apologies faster, panting against Utahime’s ear as he pulled out. “I will give it to you, baby. But I need you completely sober for that.”

He stroked his cock only twice before everything spurted on Utahime’s stomach, even on her breasts.

Utahime was horrified and hypnotized by the obscene scene in front of her. Satoru’s open mouth, his wet hair stuck slightly to his forehead, sweat running down his toned chest, muscles contracting completely.

“My girl. My sweet girl—“

Satoru said her name until the last drop fell on her. His gaze was completely in love with the person in front of him. Completely wrecked and extremely beautiful, Utahime wore his cum so hot on her body while her swollen pussy leaked between her spread legs, dirtying the sheets.

Meanwhile, her anxiety hit so hard that Utahime felt herself becoming more awake. Reality was slowly setting in.

Satoru quickly got up, almost tripping in his rush to the bathroom to let warm water run, squeezing the soft towel before returning to clean her as much as possible. Smiling even more when Utahime’s legs twitched, whining especially at the pressure when Satoru cleaned her swollen pussy.

He grabbed the blanket thrown on the floor somewhere in the process and got beside her, embracing her tightly and covering them both.

His gaze was focused on her worried face while his fingers traced across her flushed cheeks, marked by her past scar that for some reason Satoru adored.

He started caressing her body, but seeing Utahime still hiding her gaze, Satoru began speaking shyly.

“I’m sorry, Utahime.”

Utahime lifted her eyes to him, letting him continue.

“You know, for upsetting you until now. Especially today. I’m not saying I won’t do it again.” Satoru’s lips twitched slightly. “But not in a bad way.”

He let Utahime process his words before speaking again.

“But I want to be sure one more time. It wasn’t just the aphrodisiac, right?”

Utahime grunted, forcing herself not to roll her eyes at his ego showing up.

“No.” She looked into his eyes, offering only sincerity before hiding again in his chest. “And for you?”

Satoru could be clueless sometimes, but he was sure Utahime’s voice was nothing but vulnerable. Her heart beating violently in her chest confirming his thoughts.

“No. I like you.”

Utahime just nodded, but Satoru wasn’t having it.

“I like you.”

Utahime spoke softly.

“I get it.”

“I like you.”

Utahime already started getting irritated, her eyes furrowed as she lifted her gaze at him again.

But Satoru wasn’t just teasing her—his eyes were so soft and genuine that Utahime’s red cheeks deepened.

He cupped her face in both hands and repeated between kisses delivered all over her face:

“I like you. I like you. I like you.”

“Satoru!!!”

Her breathing became heavier, trying to distance herself a bit from Satoru’s protective embrace. His smile was so wide it made his cheeks hurt.

“Just making sure you believe me.” His expression turned serious. “Now. Let’s go to Shoko.”

“What?”

She didn’t have time; Satoru threw her over his shoulder until he settled her down in the middle of the room and giving her clothes to help her dress.

He pecked her nose after they finished, she scrunched at his touch. Satoru’s heart was overwhelmed with the cuteness.

“God. I can’t wait to annoy you every day from now on, baby.”

But Utahime shot back, pointing her finger at him. “You wish. Just because—“

She yelped when Satoru pulled her closer by wrapping his hands behind her back and speaking over her lips.

“Especially now that you’re mine. Only mine.”

She hugged him tightly, relaxing even more, and Satoru kissed her shortly, cupping her cheeks.

“And I’m only yours.”

Satoru’s eyes flickered with much more emotion than just for liking a person, and Utahime returned his smile while both of them slowly began to realize what a bright future awaited them.

[basedkikuenjoyer]

Maternophobia

I could use our bone boi getting stepped on, head cruelly cocked back so he can't see dem panties. Part of me wanted the image to be them all tied with with Nami hilariously giving Jinbei shit because he's supposed to be able to handle things. But no. Boney get a "whiteout" panel and that makes this a true red-letter day. This is subtle, but it is exactly what I wanted to see out of Brook & Gunko. He seems to recognize something about her. He's able to learn she's a fan. So even given this tense situation, he's very polite in his rejection to be a music slave. But specifically highlighting how Luffy gave him a new lease on life.

We've established the idea that Gunko might be somewhat a victim in the sense of never really knowing she had a choice. Brook is providing proof that circumstances can change and relationships can change them. Do you know how badly I wanted Brook to have a moment like this with Kiku? Obviously Gunko is an antagonist and that makes things very different in a lot of ways, but I love how even the framing here and following that bit from Nami serve to highlight what we talked about last time. Brook is getting a chance to show where his specific experience and wisdom can do what Jinbei cannot. And that is something very cool and very hard to express so I want to highlight it and admire it when it happens.

With that out of the way...iconic. You know what? No. It's peak "Wife Bad" Boomer Humor™ but it works because it is so unabashedly peak Boomer Humor™ and doesn't feel like it needs to put on pretentious airs of justifying itself. This is hilarious. The real monsters have awoken from the children's dreams...THEIR MOTHERS!!!

Fuck it, based. I have mother issues, stopped being scared of a pathetic drunk as I got older but when I was a kid that shit was terrifying. I don't think these giant moms are that bad, but they sure seem strict and imposing. A serious challenge indeed. We also have Spooky Gregg back hanging around a few panels so that's nice. It seems our eulogy was premature. But he is already a ghost so it's never fully inaccurate to honor his memory.

Jokes and personal trauma aside, there's a bit more thematic harmony with this gag than just lol scary moms. A land like Elbaph is now where kids are well behaved and focused on education kinda sounds like a land of strict, strong moms keeping them in line. Not a huge deal, the gag is good on its own, if they were actually Dorry/Brogy's wives I'd be on their side because you better not have run of on a 100yr duel if you're married. But it does connect more to what's going on than just being a silly goof.

Speaking of cool, very impressive Collun. He's jumped up to the front of the line and willingly got involved in the compulsion to follow the arrow just for a chance to help and keep things calm. Down below with Ripley & Scopper finding this out is hilarious...and kinda feeds back into that point about parents. Gaban's all like, hell yeah that's mah boy. Ripley's not having it and demanding he go save the kid. Hilarious and they're cute together.

And it leads to the cool part at the end! Sure there's a former Roger Pirate heavyweight jumping into the fray but they have angered the Devil Child and that is not a smart thing to do if you like things like being alive. I will never ever ever not love the series treating Robin like a core threat on the Straw Hats rather than a smart pawn to try and capture. Show Saul how far you've come by showing how fiercely you'll protect the friends you've found girl.

[houseofcrying]

Look At The Stars, Look How They Shine For You

7 times he wouldn’t let himself grieve, and the 1 time he did.

(basically levi finally receiving comfort)

cw: levi ackerman x reader, canon compliant, mentions of death, grief, angst, hurt/comfort, no use of y/n, gender neutral reader, can be romantic and platonic, no beta read we die like the scouts

3,367 words

crossposted in ao3

Numbness and Loneliness. That’s all he felt when the stranger came in.

His mother had passed away days ago and he hadn’t been able to do anything about it. There was a corpse in the bed, and he couldn’t bring himself to move from the floor across from it. He was hungry, he was dirty. He could feel sickness in the air. It got to the point where he thought that soon enough, there would be two corpses in the little room, instead of one.

He was ready to say goodbye to this life of misery. Ready to go meet his mother, wherever her spirit was roaming now. But then he came into the room.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey…Damn, you’ve lost a ton of weight since last time, Kutchel”.

“She’s dead” His voice croaked, as a result of not using it for days. He slowly looked up to the stranger in the room, that sole movement taking the little strength he had left.

“Gotta name?”

“Levi…just Levi”

He listened to the man talk to his dead mother, not even trying to understand what he was telling her or why this stranger talked as if he knew her.

“I’m Kenny. Just Kenny” the man said, sitting down across from him.

He still felt numb as he stared at him. But at least now he didn’t feel as lonely as before.

***

The warmth coming from the bonfire where they were burning the bodies of the fallen soldiers felt like a huge contrast to how cold the night was. I watched the flames as they consumed what was left of them, while my mind was far away, thinking of another cold night where I watched the flames burn the bones of my parents.

A cry snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked around one more time before I decided to leave. I couldn’t stand it anymore, being surrounded by so much pain. So much sorrow.

It had been a terrible mission. Nobody could’ve imagined that it would rain. The sky had looked so clear when we had left the walls earlier that day, that it had felt as if we entered a completely different world when the sky turned dark, and we got surrounded by the clouds. By the rain. By the titans.

While I walked aimlessly, trying to get as far away as possible from the rest, I caught sight of a figure. I slowly came to a stop as I watched him, far away from everyone else, a cold look on his face as he looked at the fire. From this far away, he looked mad. Pissed, even. I stared at him, unsure, as I debated whether to go to him or leave him in his solitude.

Everyone knew about the three new soldiers that were brought from the underground. I had seen them during training a few times, and I had talked with the girl, Isabel, and she seemed so sweet and full of life. It had been horrible to find out what had happened to her, Furlan, and the rest of the squad. And I couldn’t help but think how heartbreaking it would be to lose you’re most important people in such a gruesome way.

Before I thought about it too much and changed my mind, I started making my way to him. I approached him carefully, trying not to startle him. He was looking at the sky now, the stars shining in the dark of this cloudless night, an air of gloom and sadness surrounding him.

“Hey, Levi, right?”

He turned to look at me, his gaze hardening.

“What do you want”

Why did I even come here?

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m very sorry for your loss.”

I thought he would snap at me, but instead he just glared at me even more.

“Are you fucking joking with me right now?” he snapped, looking at me with disgust.

“What? No! Why would I do that?” I looked at him confused but then it dawned on me. Ever since they had entered the scouts, they had been cast aside for being from the underground and for not going through training like we did. His comment made me think that some may have been insensitive towards him about the situation, but I didn’t dare ask him. The thought alone made me sick to my stomach. “I just…I know how it feels to lose someone important in your life. I remember how lonely and scary I felt, so I just thought that, maybe, a little company could help?”.

I finished talking, unsure, when I saw his gaze hardening even more.

“I don’t need or want your company or pity, so fuck off” he glared at me one more time before turning away.

“Alright” I whispered, turning away and started to walk away. Before I was too far though, I turned to look at him again. “For the record, it wasn’t pity.” I hesitated before adding, “and, if you ever need some company, I’m here”

And with that, I walked away, leaving him there in his solitude.

***

“Captain? Mind if I sit?”

Levi turned his face to look at me. He had been sitting on the rooftop while staring at the sky. He just glared and shrugged, so I took it as an invitation. I sat a few feet away, far enough to give him space, but close enough to keep him company.

I looked at the sky, noticing that there was a lot of clouds tonight. No stars and no moon could be seen.

“I’m sorry about your squad” I said, looking at the clouds moving, waiting to see at least a glimpse of the moon.

The silence dragged on for a while, making me think that he wouldn’t reply.

“I’m sorry too” he surprised me with a response. I turned to look at him and was met with his gaze already on me. His expression was serious and cold, like it usually was, but if you looked close enough, you could also see a hint of sadness in it. “I know you cared for them”

I bit the side of my cheek, not wanting to cry. I had known them since they became a part of the scouts and had trained with them a few times before missions. They really were great people. I was glad that at least he didn’t lose all of them. He was, at least, able to save the kid. My gaze drifted to his ankle, having seen him walking weird earlier, but I didn’t say anything about it.

“I know you cared for them too” I respond.

“Yeah” he admits, and we gaze at each other, acknowledging each other’s company during this grieving time, before we turn to look at the sky once’s more.

A sad smile makes its way to my face when I see the clouds part, at last, and we finally catch a glimpse of the moon.

***

“He’s dead”

My face turned to his when I heard his voice. We were at the celebration of Historia’s coronation, and I had been looking at the 104th cadets as they joked around. It had been a while since I had seen them acting their age, and I couldn’t help but smile as I stared at them. But all the noise went to the background when I heard him.

He must’ve seen my confusion, because he added “Kenny. We found him earlier and then he died a few minutes after”.

I stared at him, not understanding why there was a tint of sadness in his voice as he talked about the man that kidnapped Eren and Historia and that got some of our comrades killed. It was almost imperceptible, but it was there, nonetheless.

“He took care of me when I was younger. Taught me how to survive in the underground.” His gaze drifted from my eyes to look at the kids. “Turns out he was my uncle”.

My heart clenched as I heard him. Another loss. How many of them more will he suffer?

I looked at his side profile, wanting to comfort him.

“Want to talk about it?”

He met my gaze ones more while he pondered over my question.

“No” he answered in the end.

“Alright” I nodded, understanding. We both turned to look at the celebration ones more, as I moved a few inches closer to him and grabbed his hand, giving it a little squeeze. He tensed, just for a second, before he let his shoulders drop and sqeezed my hand back.

***

“You need to take a break”

He didn’t even look up from his paperwork. Instead, he continued writing as if I wasn’t even there. The only sign that he had heard me was how he became even more tense than he already was.

“Levi–”

“Can’t you see I’m occupied?” he cut me off, still not looking at me.

I sighed and then started walking closer to him. When I had found out about how badly the mission ended, I was surprised and devastated. Seeing only 9 scouts coming back from Shiganshina broke me, and I couldn’t help the feeling of fear and dread that took over me when I couldn’t see who the survivors were. The pain subsided only a little when I saw that he was alive.

I walked until I got to the other side of the desk, right next to him. “Levi, you should take a break, you can’t hide in your paperwork forever.”

He finally looked up at me. His expression was cold, giving me the look of intimidation he would give everyone when he wanted them to leave him alone. But that wouldn’t work on me. Not anymore. I have known him for years and it got to the point where I could tell what he was trying to hide. Right now, his eyes showed absolute heartbreak.

“What do you expect me to do exactly?!” he snapped at me, eyebrows furrowed. He was holding his pen so hard that I wouldn’t be surprised if it snapped in two. “It’s not like anyone else can do all this. They’re dead!”

I didn’t say anything, just looked at him, my gaze softening. I could feel sadness intensifying inside me, but I pushed my grieving aside for now. I hadn’t been there, I didn’t even know the details of how everything went down, but he had been. He saw everything happen. So, for now, I will be his rock.

Slowly, I leaned over and carefully grabbed his fist in one hand while I removed the pen in between his hold with the other. I then held his hand in both of mine, looking and the new scars in them before turning my gaze to his face. His gray eyes were already looking at me. He didn’t look as mad as before, but I could see that he was still holding back. But the eyes, they never lied, no matter how hard he tried. I could see his pain, his fear, his guilt.

It felt like a reflection of what I felt.

I was supposed to be there with them, but at the last minute, Commander Erwin had told me to stay behind and look over Queen Historia. He didn’t trust the military police and told me to keep an eye on her and protect her while they were gone. To think that I could’ve been one of the dead if he hadn’t given me that assignment…

“Please. You just came back. It’s not good to go straight to work, especially after everything that happened.” No matter how hard I was trying, I still felt my eyes starting to water. “I’m worried about you, Levi”

It hurt me to see him like this. He lost his uncle, and then, barely any time passed before he watched almost the entire regiment die and had to choose between saving Commander Erwin or Armin. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how that felt like.

He stayed quiet while looking at me. I thought he would snap at me again, but he must have seen something on my face that told him that I wouldn’t give up. Or maybe he was tired of pretending. Nonetheless, I took it as a sign that he wouldn’t push me away.

“C’mon” I said as I pulled him towards me, making him stand up. I turned around, one hand still holding his, while he let me guide him out of his office. “Let’s go have some tea”

***

What the hell is going on out there?

I looked towards the door as I heard the screams, the stomping, and was that a shot?

I was debating whether to go check what was going on, or staying to help Levi in guarding Eren and Zeke, when Jean came in with two kids that I hadn’t seen before.

“This one shot Sasha before we could catch her” I could already feel dread by looking at Jean’s expression as he talked. “I…don’t think she’s gonna make it”

My eyes widened and I could feel my heart dropped by those words.

I don’t think she’s gonna make it.

I watched, almost in a blur, as Armin and Mikasa ran past me and out of the room. Part of me wanted to go with them. But I was needed here. Now there were four prisoners, and I couldn’t leave Levi alone with all of them.

I don’t think she’s gonna make it.

But it’s Sasha. Sweet, caring Sasha. How could she die after being safely in the airship on our way back home?

My gaze fell in the kids. I faintly heard Hange coming in and there was a conversation going on, but my brain couldn’t comprehend any words.

But she’s only a child, what could’ve happened for her to kill Lobov, get in an enemy airship, and shoot Sasha?

I faintly heard Jean screaming at Yelena about her part in the plan.

What do you mean what happened?

We did.

I snap out of my thoughts when I hear the door open once again, and my heart breaks a little bit more when I see Connie’s face. Tears are already running down my face before he says a word.

“It’s Sasha…she just died”

I somehow find myself right next to Levi and see him hunge down a little, a sad expression on his face, as we hear the news. I placed a hand on his back, but before I could say anything, we hear Eren talk.

“Connie, did Sasha leave you any last words?”

We all looked at Eren when he starts laughing at Connie’s response, shock and misunderstanding in our faces.

Levi’s expression hardened ones again, and he stepped away from me, as he went to continue questioning Zeke. I let my hand drop to my side and made my way towards the door, Eren’s laugh haunting me as I left the room.

***

The entire plane is filled with cries as we fly away. Some, like me, look in horror at Hange’s body fall completely engulfed in flames. Others face the other way, unable to look as they cry and sob. I feel stuck in place.

How did I breath again?

Who’s screaming?

Is it me?

I could feel my chest getting tighter by each second that passed, my gaze unfocused, until the plane jerked to the side, making me lose my footing and fall in the cold floor. I snapped out of whatever trance I was in and looked around. There was so much crying that it was too overwhelming. A sob left my lips as I looked at everyone filled with sorrow.

I can’t. It’s too many losses. Too many deaths. Dad. Mom. Petra. Eld. Gunther. Oluo. Miche. Nanaba. Moblit. Erwin. Sasha. Hange. How many of those surrounding me right now would I lose before this ends? How much death could I handle?

It was all too much. I just wanted to curl into a ball and cry until I couldn’t anymore. But then my eyes dropped on him. I almost couldn’t see him because of the heavy tears running through my face, but there he was. Sitting in one of the plane seats, looking sadly at his hands. It was the most emotion I had seen in him in days. Months, even.

Slowly, I got up and made my way to him. He was still alive. I had almost lost him, but here he was anyways. Breathing.

I sat down next to him, my shoulder brushing his. No words were spoken between us. What could be said anyways? Wanting to bring him some comfort, as well as myself, I leaned my head against his shoulder, careful not to hurt him, as I silently cried.

A beat passed before he leaned his head against mine.

***

My entire body hurts.

I look at the sky, not believing that I’m still breathing. My mind takes a while to catch up. One moment, I was watching Jean and Connie's back, as we waited for the strange gas to envelop us and turn us into titans. Looking out for them one last time, even though there was nothing I could do about what would happen to us in a matter of seconds. But it was better than the alternative. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Falco’s titan as he flew Mikasa, Pieck, and Levi away.

Levi. I don’t want to become another person in the infinite list of those he has lost. I can’t become another reason for his pain.

That had been the last thought I had before everything shifted.

One moment, all I felt was hunger.

The next, the pain came rushing back.

And now I was here. Lying on my back and finding it hard to believe that I was still alive.

With the little strength I have left, I stood up and started looking all around me. There’s so much fog, but I can see people hugging each other.

Did we win?

That’s means Eren’s dead.

My heart clenches at the thought, but then another one creeps into my mind.

Where’s Levi?

I look around, desperation starting to creep in, and I start calling out his name.

Why is there so much fog?

I’m about to start running to see if I could find him, when I suddenly came to a stop with a gasp stuck in my throat. My eyes filled immediately with tears as I looked ahead at my parents. I had almost forgotten how they looked. It’s been so long since they passed away. They were looking at me, and in their eyes, I could see so much love and pride. They smiled at me, and I smiled back. I couldn’t bring myself to blink or talk, wanting to look at them as much as possible. I watched as they started to disappear, and a sob left my body when I couldn’t see them anymore.

Grateful to have seen them one last time, I dried my cheeks and started calling out for Levi again, looking all around. It took me a few more minutes, but there he was. I slowly came to a stop when I saw him sitting there, a hand to his chest, as he did the survey corps salute for the first time. When I saw the tear roll down his cheek, it made me snap out of my surprise and I started walking towards him again, slower than before.

“L-Levi” my voice breaks. I stood in front of him, only a few feet separating us.

He opens his eyes and stares at me. I look at all his injuries, taking in every detail of him. He seems to be doing the same thing to me.

“You’re alive…” he replies with relief and holds out a hand towards me. That’s all the sign I need to close the distance. I fall on my knees in front of him and, being careful of his injuries, I wrapped my arms around him, bringing him close. He holds me just as tight, and we cry in each other’s arms.

Finding solace in each other’s company, like so many times before.

masterlist

[mortish-writes]

Hello! I hope you’re well. I discovered your work only a few days ago but I have been playing nonstop with different choices each time to see the different play throughs I can get, so far I’ve really enjoyed it! Your writing is phenomenal, I’ve been looking for something dark, sexy, romantic, and smutty involving vampires and this is absolutely perfect. I can’t wait to buy it when it’s complete! <3 if I may ask, what inspired you to begin writing Bride of Shadows? Did you take inspiration from any other works when beginning this story?

Thanks! So I initially started drafting Bride of Shadows during the pandemic when my job closed and I was suddenly at home at lot. I binge read The Vampire Chronicles at that time so I'm sure that had an effect, but in general I've always loved vampire fiction from the Anita Blake saga to the Sookie Stackhouse series. Probably a series that made me see how vampires could be written differently was the Carpathian series by Christine Feehan. I loved the whole life-mates and being able to reproduce aspect. I'm a big fan of fated mates and pregnancy/family building in romance and those tropes don't generally intersect with vampires.

For fantasy, my favorite author is probably Brandon Sanderson. I rarely read non-romance, but his books are so captivating. I love the twists and turns, the setups and the payoffs, and I find his writing very inspiring. Anyone who hasn't read his work, go read Warbreaker. It has enough romance to suck you in and then you'll be immersed by the epic plot. I can definitely see shades of Vasher in Valdricht and Lightsong in Serax.

My biggest inspiration I haven't written about yet because I don't want to throw shade on other authors, so I won't name it specifically but right before I started drafting Bride of Shadows I read a contemporary fantasy book series with a compelling love triangle, good smut, and a pregnancy subplot that was so promising and then dropped the ball in such a profoundly terrible way in the final two books that it was the first time I ever finished a story and said, "That's it?" I would have been happier if the author had just abandoned the story it was such a God-awful ending. She ruined both the ROs and the MC became intolerable. I think maybe it was one of those cases where the author had one RO she liked better even though the fan-favorite was another so instead of appealing to a plurality of readers or following her heart she just broke everything and lit it on fire then went off to work on her more popular book series. Basically I was so mad about that series it made me want to write a better one and, all ego aside, it won't be difficult.

I mean it must have been good if I'm still mad about the ending half a decade later. Either that or I get too emotionally attached to books with hot fae.

[wintersoldierwhore]

covet — joel miller

Chapter Four — “I’ll build you anythin’ y’want.”

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It was your first day of working for your dad’s company. And you had what was amassed to a morning's worth of work. You were stationed in your dad’s office today, and your first point of call was to sort through his units full of invoices. There were years worth of folders in here, so you had woken up early, made yourself a coffee, and got to work.

You’d made yearly piles, then monthly piles, then organised them into date order. And labelled each drawer for what they were. This messy office was starting to come together.

It had taken three hours, your hands felt disgusting from the traces of dry dirt on the folders, which made sense as they’d been sitting in your dad’s truck for a long while.

Next was entering data, which another cup of coffee fuelled you for, it felt oddly satisfying. Working for something you’d been connected to your entire life. Helping your dad out by organizing his office space.

You left the office with a smile on your face, feeling as if you’d deserved a relaxing lunch. You’d scoured the pantry for ingredients, something to throw together to keep you full until dinner.

Dad: Hey, kid. Hope work is going well. Did you want something brought back for lunch?

Your dad knew you so well.

You: Read my mind, thank you!

The weather was pleasant today, the sun casted over your backyard beautifully, making the pool waves glisten. Good enough weather to swim in. You, thankfully, packed your bikini in the essential suitcases, and quickly threw it on. It wasn’t the tiniest one you owned, you could get naughtier if you tried, but your dad would be home soon.

You trailed over to the pool, casting your shoes aside and sitting on the edge. Slowly, you’d sunk further and further into the pool. Lazily swimming back and forth, mainly floating and thinking about the look on Joel’s face when he sees you.

And as if on cue, you heard the sound of an engine running at the front of your house. Unfazed by the voices walking through the house, you carried on floating.

“Kiddo? You here?” Your dad called out.

“Out here,” you called back, “haven’t used the pool yet, and the weather was great.”

”This what ‘m payin’ ya for.” Your dad laughed.

“I’ll have you know your office is clean as a whistle.” You smiled, no sign of Joel yet. “Now where’s my food?”

“Joel set it in the kitchen but we’ll eat out here with ya, bit ‘a sunshine.”

Your dad disappeared, and Joel emerged. You tried to mask the smile on your face with a squint, as if you’d caught the sun in your eye. Just as you’d imagined, Joel was washed away.

His eyes—his mind—was somewhere else.

“What’s ’a matter, Joel?” You asked sweetly, pulling yourself over to the edge of the pool and pulling yourself up to sit on the side.

“You know damn well.” He had a dry laugh and sat on one of the loungers, far away from you.

“Where’s dad?”

”Gone to look at his clean office, and to give you tomorrow’s work.” Joel winked.

You took this time to lean back on your arms, the sun hitting your glistening, wet body. And peeked over to Joel, who was choking on his fries.

“What ya’ playin’ at, hm?” He asked quietly, as if his voice were only for you, “wanna get me in trouble with your dad?”

“I have no idea what y’talkin’ about.” The innocent act was riling him up, all in good ways.

”Here.” He chucked a bag of food over to you.

Your dad soon joined you again, once you’d put your shirt back on and dug into your cheeseburger.

“So what work ya got for the rest of the day?” You asked them both.

“Supply shoppin’.” Joel choked out, it was clear his mind was all over you still.

Your smile couldn’t be contained. “Sounds like you’re livin’ the dream.”

”Join us if ya want, kiddo.”

“Sure.” You replied, to your amusement and to Joel’s dismay.

The three of you piled into your dad’s truck, Joel sandwiched between the two of you. A building supply run was the least interesting thing you had going on, but being around Joel was fun, it felt like having something to look forward to again.

“Right, ‘m gonna grab the wood we need, you two can grab the details.” Your dad instructed. You hadn’t the slightest clue what any of this meant, but following Joel around kept you interested.

You trailed behind Joel, watching him locate specific aisles, grumbling to himself when they didn’t have the product he needed.

“What’s this for anyway?”

”Some rich lady wanted ‘n extension on her house,” he explained, “had to be the perfect archways ‘n shit.”

“That’ll be me someday.” You sighed dreamily.

”Oh yeah?” He laughed.

“You’d build it f’me, right Joel?”

He looked up from comparing different filler, and looked at you. Sweet smile, innocent eyes, and red bikini soaked through your white shirt.

No, stop it Joel, he thought. This ain’t right.

”I’ll build you anythin’ y’want.”

Once the supplies were gathered and bought, you’d put them all in the back of the truck and strapped in whilst your dad returned the cart.

“Joel.” You whispered. Your voice was honey, smoother than the gentle jazz he’d play when he’d go to bed at night.

“Yes, darlin’.”

You melted in the seat beside him, you were putty for him to play with however he wanted. “I—nothing.”

”Y’sure?”

No.

You nodded.

Later that afternoon, you were helping delivery guys bring your belongings in whilst your dad ordered dinner. You weren’t in any mood to cook, and neither was your dad. Him being tired, you being… abstinent. Through no choice of your own.

You’d finally gotten your belongings. No part of you left in San Fran.

You spent the evening making your beloved bed up, finding homes for your non-essential things. Your room felt like your own again, and not like you’d stolen it from a weird little sister of yours.

You snapped a picture of your bed, and instinctively sent it to Joel.

You: Attached: 1 Image

You: The infamous bed has arrived.

A few minutes passed. In that time, he could’ve been making dinner, spending time with his wife. But Lord knows the latter wasn’t happening. Instead, he spent his time staring at the bed. Wiggling his thumbs above the screen with no idea what to reply.

Joel: Bet you’re happy.

Joel: Best night of your life tonight?

If only.

You: I have a feeling that night will soon come.

[autistic-danieljackson]

Salty Ask List - 13 and 17 :)

13. Unpopular opinion about XXX character?

Daniel - I really don't think he's that OOC in season 9-10. I hear this complaint all the time but I feel like it was a natural progression over the seasons. I also prefer early seasons Daniel but I don't think he gets that out of character in the later seasons. You know when he was OOC? RIGHT AFTER FOREVER IN A DAY! That's not an unpopular opinion but I will never get over that.

Rodney - I don't know if this is an unpopular opinion and I feel like it's going to come off the wrong way but truly he is not as misogynistic as a lot of people like to claim he is. I always see people claim how horrible and disgusting he is and that they couldn't watch Atlantis specifically because of him and I guess I just have to assume they've never watched another show from 2005 before? Because while it definitely isn't great or something to be condoned...there was way way worse during that time. And also he grows so much so I'm guessing they're just watching like half of season 1 and giving up. Again, not sure how unpopular this is but it's something I see way more often than I expected to and it bugs me a lot.

Teal'c - In my opinion, Teal'c was so underutilized. Especially being, as far as we're shown, the only alien employed by the SGC(other than Jonas for a bit of course). But too often it felt like he was there to be the straight man and punch and shoot when it was called for. I would have loved to see more character development and also what sorts of things he got into on Earth. Because that man is getting paid(hopefully) but he's living on base with no rent and his money isn't good on his home world. So what's he doing with all that cash? Personally, I think he buys all the things on those late night infomercials. But I just would've liked to see more personality from him. Also, I just cannot be bothered to care about his family. They feel like such an afterthought(a lot like Sha're). I would've either liked to see more of them or just have that plot cut all together.

I'm realizing I don't know how unpopular any of these actually are but I don't think I have a lot of really controversial opinions haha.

17. Instead of XYZ happening, I would have made ABC happen…

You've opened a can of worms with this lmao! We all know I wouldn't have had Carson die. There are so many other things they could've done instead. I think if they still wanted a shock factor they could've given him a major injury/permanent disability. Losing hearing or sight or a limb and the impact it would've had on him and the team would have been way more interesting than just killing Carson off.

I also saw once where someone was talking about how they should've had Jonas go on the Atlantis expedition and I whole-heartedly agree. His antics would've fit in so well with the Atlantis crew and it almost feels disrespectful that he was main cast for an entire season and then just cast aside other than one episode in season 7(although I'm fairly certain this was due to the actor and not the writers just writing him off but this is ideal Stargate where everyone is pleasant and easy to work with 😂)

Last, I don't know what I would've done differently but I wish they would've kept Ford around. He and Ronon would've been such a good duo and I think we really missed out.

WAIT I FORGOT HOW HEATED I GET ABOUT ELIZABETH! Okay sorry one more because the shit they pulled with Elizabeth actually makes me so mad. First, I don't know if anyone else has noticed but the s4 credits immediately introduce Sam as being main cast with Elizabeth nowhere in sight which spoils the whole thing and also feels extra disrespectful. They didn't change the s2 ones for an episode or two until Ford was gone. But second, there was no reason to do what they did. Just like Carson, I think character death(or I guess in both cases "death") was the least interesting route. I think major injury would've been so interesting in this case as well. Sam steps in as interim leader while Elizabeth gets back on her feet. Watching the pain and frustration as someone who was always in control can't even get their body to obey them. That would've been interesting to watch. And then eventually Elizabeth is able to step back into the leadership position, maybe solely or maybe she and Sam are co-leaders because we needed more women in the Stargate universe. Oh what we could have had...

There are like a million other things I would've done differently but I'll be done for now before this post gets ridiculously long haha

[suna1suna1]

Gummigoo was cool :(

[donoteatwingsoutapussy]

That's why it's toxic? She's like the enemy of Maleanor and her people.

Also I wouldn't go as far to say Leah is a direct leader in all of this, as she's not exactly the one leading humanities onslaught in stripping of resources. Though the Dawn Knight is very much so guilty in this, you can definitely say she's complacent in it all but at the same time she's a woman in a medieval period. I doubt she had much power to change things aside from trying to talk the Dawn Knight out of it. But like he couldn't really anyway because he was partly enslaved/indebted to hendrick. And he already faced moral qualms with what he was doing himself.

I can't really talk about the whole friendship is magic part because in terms of the story I'm only caught up to where EN is at

Is it just me or is it uncomfortable to be ignoring how Princess Leah is still technically a colonizer like her brother and her husband bc she’s hot and that the ending for book 7 basically ignored how humans colonized fae in favor of “the magic of friendship” 😅😅😅😅

Also it’s weird to call Maleanor x Leah “toxic Yuri” when that’s a colonizer being shipped with Maleanor

[playing-pauls-mel0dy]

y'know. at least a couple of times now, i've seen the theory that, potentially, Rainer was another victim of Marvin's (whether that be of rebirthing or just abuse in general). and my brain has decided to latch onto it for some reason.

so uh. There's That.

[antennatoheaven]

has anyone considered/worked out a murderbot x 17776 crossover