#connected strength machines

[dynamichealthinsights]

How Innovative Fitness Equipment Can Revolutionize Your Results: A Deep Dive into the Future of Fitness

In the dynamic realm of fitness, where innovation is the heartbeat of progress, the fusion of technology and exercise has given rise to a new era of possibilities. We’re not just talking about a few fancy gadgets here; we’re talking about a paradigm shift in how we approach our workouts, track our progress, and ultimately achieve our fitness goals. Innovative fitness equipment isn’t merely a…

[leftoverpages]

Loyalty’s embrace

Pairing 𓅪 Benjicot "Davos" Blackwood x betrothed!reader

Tags 𓅪 jealous and protective Benjicot, small fight scene (no gore), fluff at the end, romance, reader uses she/her but no physical description

Notes: i have been writing for years without posting anything so i have a insane number of fics to post, enjoy lol

Wordcount 𓅪 1.3k

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

The grand ballroom of Blackwood Manor was awash with warm candlelight and the soft hum of conversation. The air was filled with the scent of roses and the clinking of crystal glasses. Lady Y/N stood at the edge of the room, a vision in her resplendent gown. Her dress, a masterpiece of crimson silk and midnight velvet, flowed around her like a river of fire and shadow. The bodice, embroidered with intricate patterns of gold thread, clung to her form, highlighting her grace and strength. Across her chest and shoulders, the Blackwood sigil was proudly displayed, a symbol of her new allegiance and her own fierce spirit.

The fabric shimmered in the candlelight, every movement sending ripples of light and shadow cascading over her. The skirt, full and layered, swirled around her feet like a tempest, the deep red contrasting beautifully with the inky black. A delicate gold chain rested at her throat, drawing attention to the elegant curve of her neck.

She stood there as her betrothed, Benjicot Blackwood, engaged in conversation with several lords and ladies. She found herself alone for the moment, sipping a glass of champagne and watching the festivities from afar.

Despite the grandeur, there was a nervous flutter in her stomach. Being betrothed to Benjicot, the fierce and enigmatic heir of House Blackwood, was both an honor and a daunting reality. Their engagement was more strategic than romantic, a union meant to strengthen alliances and secure power. Still, she had hoped to find some genuine connection with him, something to hold onto amidst the political machinations.

"Lady Y/N, you look ravishing tonight," a voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see Lord Cedric, a notorious flirt and known for his less-than-honorable intentions, standing far too close for comfort.

"Thank you, Lord Cedric," she replied, forcing a polite smile and taking a small step back.

He didn’t seem to notice—or care. "It's a shame you're tied down to Blackwood. A beauty like you deserves better," he said, his eyes raking all over her in a way that made her skin crawl.

"I am perfectly content with my betrothal, Lord Cedric," she replied firmly, trying to edge away. But Cedric persisted, moving closer, his hand reaching to touch her arm.

"Come now, Y/N, you can’t tell me you’ve never wondered what it would be like to be with someone else," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear.

Before she could respond, a strong hand gripped Cedric's wrist, pulling him away from her. "I believe the lady has made herself clear," Benjicot’s voice was low and dangerous, his dark eyes blazing with anger.

Cedric paled but tried to maintain his bravado. "I meant no harm, Blackwood. Just a bit of fun," he stammered, taking a step back.

Benjicot stepped between Cedric and Y/N, his posture tense and protective. "Your idea of fun is clearly misguided," he said coldly. "If I ever see you bothering her again, I will not be so forgiving."

Cedric sneered, his fear giving way to indignation. "And what will you do, Blackwood, uh? Throw me out of your pretty little ball?"

A dangerous glint appeared in Benjicot’s eyes. "No, Cedric. I’ll do much worse."

Before Cedric could react, Benjicot’s fist connected with his jaw, sending him staggering backward. The ballroom fell silent, guests suddenly turning to witness the confrontation. Cedric, recovering from the initial shock, lunged at Benjicot with a roar, swinging wildly.

Benjicot dodged, his movements controlled and precise. He landed another punch to Cedric's midsection, doubling him over. "You don’t know to quit, do you?" Benjicot muttered, grabbing Cedric by the collar and lifting him to his feet.

"Enough!" Cedric spat, struggling against Benjicot’s grip. "You think you can control everything? Even her?"

Benjicot’s eyes darkened further. "I don’t need to control her, Cedric. I trust her. Something you clearly don’t understand."

With that, Benjicot shoved Cedric away, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. Cedric, breathing heavily and bruised, glared up at him. "This isn’t over, Blackwood."

"It is," Benjicot replied coldly. "And if you value your life, you’ll stay away from her."

Guards approached then, at Benjicot’s silent command, hauling Cedric to his feet and escorting him out of the ballroom. The guests slowly resumed their conversations, the tension dissipating, but whispers of the altercation lingered.

Benjicot turned to Y/N, his expression softening as he reached out to her. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentle.

She nodded, but her composure faltered, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Thank you, Ben. I didn’t know what to do..."

He stepped closer, his hand tenderly cupping her cheek. "You never have to face such things alone. Not while I'm here."

Y/N looked up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity. Instead, she found a depth of concern and protectiveness that took her by surprise. She had always seen him as distant, a warrior hardened by duty, but now she glimpsed the man beneath the armor.

"Why do you care?" she asked softly, her voice trembling.

Benjicot sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I know our betrothal was arranged, but that doesn't mean I don't care for your well-being. I've come to admire your strength and grace, Y/N. I want us to be more than just a political alliance."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. She had longed for some indication that he felt more than obligation towards her. "I want that too, Ben," she whispered.

He smiled then, a rare, genuine smile that made her heart flutter. "Then let's make it so," he said, taking her hand in his. "Together."

As they stood there, hand in hand amidst the glittering ballroom, Y/N felt a warmth spread through her.

Benjicot glanced around the room, the tension in his shoulders easing. He looked back at Y/N, his eyes filled with a tender resolve. "May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice soft and inviting.

Y/N felt her breath catch. She nodded, unable to speak, and he led her to the center of the ballroom. The musicians, sensing the moment, began to play a slow, melodic waltz.

As they took their positions, Benjicot's arm encircled her waist, his hand warm and steady. Her hand rested on his shoulder, and he guided her with a grace that belied his warrior's demeanor. They began to move, their steps perfectly in sync, the world around them fading into a blur of light and sound.

The music swirled around them, a symphony of emotions. They glided across the floor, each step a silent conversation. Y/N felt as if they were floating, the dance a magical respite from the political intrigue and uncertainty that had shadowed their engagement.

Benjicot's eyes never left hers, their dark depths reflecting a myriad of emotions. In that moment, she felt a warmth spread through her chest, a burgeoning hope that perhaps their union could be more than just a strategic alliance.

The music swelled, and Benjicot spun her gracefully, her dress flaring out like a crimson and black flower. When they came back together, he held her a little closer, his gaze softening even further.

"I meant what I said," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want us to be more than a political alliance. I want to know you, Y/N. To truly understand you."

She smiled, her heart fluttering with a mixture of nerves and excitement. "And I want to know you, Ben."

As the final notes of the waltz echoed through the ballroom, they came to a gentle stop. The guests around them erupted into applause, but Y/N and Benjicot remained in their own world, their gazes locked.

"Thank you for the dance," Y/N said softly.

Benjicot brought her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. "The pleasure was mine," he replied.

In that moment, surrounded by the approving smiles of their peers, Y/N felt something shift. The alliance they had been forced into was beginning to transform into something real, something hopeful.

The future was uncertain, but for the first time, she felt truly seen and protected. And perhaps, just perhaps, they could find love in each other’s arms.

[monstersholygrail]

Okay for the birds. Since you asked so nicely. (And because I am on my knees BEGGING for crumbs of this!!!) How would they react to reader living in a run down apartment? Like it takes a lot of money to keep a studio going, even with such... passionate attendees. Yeah they spoil reader at the studio, but what about seeing reader out and about? At home, out shopping?

For Scarlet Macaw Bird Hybrids the colony keeps coming at you like they’re vultures. They’re greedy for your cum, needy for the tight clench of your fat cunt milking their cocks dry, desperate for your cries of pleasure and who can force them out of you, and they crave the feel of your pliable flesh in their loving hands as they take you over and over again.

They’ve all lost themselves in you, as if you’ve pulled a veil of lust over their eyes and they are nothing but mindless machines set for your pleasure. It’s all they want. To feel that deep connection with you, their precious mate.

One after the other they fuck you dumb, bringing you release after release. Even as your body grows more tired they can see the need in your eyes and they won’t stop until their mate is fully satisfied.

As your next orgasm crashes into you, your eyes roll back, your body no longer having the strength to fully seize and shudder with the sheer force of your pleasure.

Your mates currently taking care of you each unload a hefty amount of cum inside your gushing walls. It isn’t until they slip out of you to lightly peck kisses along your face that they realized they fucked you till you passed out.

All the bird hybrids coo at you in worry, their wings flapping as they surround your plush fucked out form. All limp and beautiful. Their hands lovingly caress every inch of your body, making sure you’re alright.

“I’ll take her to her human apartment. Make sure she gets there safe,” one of the bird hybrids speak up.

Instantly a chorus of over bird hybrids chirp out their disagreement. All of them wanting to be the one who takes you home and tucks you into bed. Anything just to be with you for a little bit longer and to take care of you. But the first bird hybrid stands his ground and insists.

Taking you into his arms he begins to fly you home. You had never shown any of the bird hybrids in the colony where you lived but a few started following you home after your night class with them and soon after everyone knew where you lived and would follow you to make sure you got home safe after that class.

Silly humans would call it stalking. But they were only looking after you! They made sure you never got hurt and hurt anyone who dared try.

You didn’t live in a very good neighborhood after all, putting most of your money into your studio, so they had to take care of you. Even if that meant scaring off anyone who looked at you funny or with any interest.

But none of the birds had ever been inside your apartment before. As the bird hybrid uses your key to enter, his eyes widen in horror at the sight of your run down apartment. Their mate could not live like this. Not under their watch.

After tucking you into bed, the bird hybrid gets out his phone and enters their colony group chat dedicated specifically to talking about you.

“OUR MATE IS LIVING IN SHAMBLES!” The bird hybrid texts into the chat to convey his panic. Seconds later and the group chat is blowing up.

“I knew we didn't pay ‘nough for her classes!"

"Should demand she raise them…"

"Do dance teachers get random bonuses?"

“Would she feel insulted if we gave her money at the end of classes after we’ve fucked her raw?”

“Not if she’s too blissed out to notice us slipping the money in her bag.”

“Nah, she wouldn’t like. I think the humans call it Pros— Pollution? Or Hook— something to do with fishing, I don’t know. It’s not a good idea.”

“That’s not the point! What are we going to do about this? We can’t allow this to continue,” the bird hybrid types, interrupting their rambling.

“Could always take her back to the nest…” one hybrid suggests. He thinks about it for a moment before he shakes his head.

“An idea for another day. She wouldn’t go for it now. We need to fix up her place until she’s ready.” The bird hybrid with you concludes.

As you sleep the bird hybrid plans for everything. He sends for a whole bunch of them to head over to your apartment. A team of them flying around and taking what they need to help fix up your apartment while another team prepares the place for work.

When everyone arrives at your apartment things quickly dissolve into chaos. Of course, all the Bird Hybrids want to see you first sleeping all pretty and fucked out in your bed. The Hybrids at that night class immediately start boasting about how good they fucked you and others immediately raise their voices, pleading their own case.

It’s only when you shift on the bed that the Bird Hybrid that brought you home immediately shushes them.

“Stop, stop, stop! We can’t wake her,” he whispers.

Their eyes all fall back onto you, silently watching your plush figure squirm and settle back on the bed. The small action alone causing them to get a little hard and they have to force themselves not to clamber onto the bed and wake you up.

No, instead they get to work. Upgrading your apartment in every possible way they know how. Cleaning it up and making it into a real home. While also enforcing it and making sure you’re the safest person in the neighborhood.

Creating the near perfect nest. Only second to their own they hope to bring you to someday.

They can’t wait for you to finally wake up. They all imagine the look on your face when you rouse from your slumber to see them all there and your apartment completely changed. But most of all… they can’t wait for the thank you gifts you’re bound to give them all.

You have to break in your new apartment somehow, don’t you?

[probablyasocialecologist]

“The machines we have now, they’re not conscious,” he says. “When one person teaches another person, that is an interaction between consciousnesses.” Meanwhile, AI models are trained by toggling so-called “weights” or the strength of connections between different variables in the model, in order to get a desired output. “It would be a real mistake to think that when you’re teaching a child, all you are doing is adjusting the weights in a network.”

Chiang’s main objection, a writerly one, is with the words we choose to describe all this. Anthropomorphic language such as “learn”, “understand”, “know” and personal pronouns such as “I” that AI engineers and journalists project on to chatbots such as ChatGPT create an illusion. This hasty shorthand pushes all of us, he says — even those intimately familiar with how these systems work — towards seeing sparks of sentience in AI tools, where there are none.

“There was an exchange on Twitter a while back where someone said, ‘What is artificial intelligence?’ And someone else said, ‘A poor choice of words in 1954’,” he says. “And, you know, they’re right. I think that if we had chosen a different phrase for it, back in the ’50s, we might have avoided a lot of the confusion that we’re having now.”

So if he had to invent a term, what would it be? His answer is instant: applied statistics.

“It’s genuinely amazing that . . . these sorts of things can be extracted from a statistical analysis of a large body of text,” he says. But, in his view, that doesn’t make the tools intelligent. Applied statistics is a far more precise descriptor, “but no one wants to use that term, because it’s not as sexy”.

[...]

Given his fascination with the relationship between language and intelligence, I’m particularly curious about his views on AI writing, the type of text produced by the likes of ChatGPT. How, I ask, will machine-generated words change the type of writing we both do? For the first time in our conversation, I see a flash of irritation. “Do they write things that speak to people? I mean, has there been any ChatGPT-generated essay that actually spoke to people?” he says.

Chiang’s view is that large language models (or LLMs), the technology underlying chatbots such as ChatGPT and Google’s Bard, are useful mostly for producing filler text that no one necessarily wants to read or write, tasks that anthropologist David Graeber called “bullshit jobs”. AI-generated text is not delightful, but it could perhaps be useful in those certain areas, he concedes.

“But the fact that LLMs are able to do some of that — that’s not exactly a resounding endorsement of their abilities,” he says. “That’s more a statement about how much bullshit we are required to generate and deal with in our daily lives.”

[vroom--vrooming]

Homelander x Reader

Homelander was told that you were gone, dead, never to return to him again. He just didn't know how big of a lie it was

Homelander stepped through the ruined doors of the lab, his presence an overwhelming force in the desolate space. The facility was a tomb of memories, the walls steeped in the screams of his childhood. This was where they had forged him in fire and agony, a place of sterile white rooms, needles, and cold, unforgiving hands. And it was here, too, where he had lost the only person who had ever mattered to him.

The floors were slick with blood, the bodies of scientists and doctors strewn about like broken dolls. He had hunted them down with methodical cruelty, each one meeting a brutal end under his unrelenting fury. They deserved worse, far worse, for what they had done—not just to him, but to her.

She had been everything to him back then. The girl with eyes that reflected the same pain, the same fear. Her ability to mimic the powers of others had fascinated the scientists, turning her into a living experiment, just like him. Together, they had endured the tortures, finding strength in each other’s presence. She had been his anchor, his one source of light in that pit of darkness.

But then, one day, she was gone. They told him she was dead, and something inside him snapped. That was the day he stopped being the boy with a name and became Homelander, the unfeeling weapon Vought wanted.

Now, all these years later, he was back. The lab was eerily quiet, the only sounds the faint hum of machines still running despite the carnage. He was ready to leave this place behind, to burn it to the ground and let it be consumed by the flames of his vengeance. But then, he heard it—a heartbeat.

Homelander froze, his super hearing honing in on the faint, rhythmic sound. It was coming from deep within the facility, far below the main level, where the most secret and secure rooms lay hidden. His heart pounded in his chest as he followed the sound, a flicker of something strange and unwanted stirring in the pit of his stomach—hope.

He reached a metal door, thick and fortified, sealed with a lock designed to keep out even the most determined intruder. With a single thought, he tore the door from its hinges, the steel groaning in protest before crashing to the ground. He stepped inside, his breath catching in his throat at what he saw.

There, on a medical bed in the center of the small, sterile room, lay the girl he had thought lost forever.

She was still, her body connected to an array of medical equipment. Tubes ran from her veins to machines that hummed with a sickening familiarity, and her skin was pale, almost translucent under the harsh lights. But she was alive—he could hear her heartbeat, weak but steady, echoing in the small space.

Homelander’s chest tightened, a mixture of rage and grief crashing over him like a tidal wave. They had lied to him. They had kept her alive, hidden away, draining her of whatever they thought she could give them. And he had been too blind, too consumed by his own darkness, to see the truth.

He moved to her side, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch her face. Her skin was cool beneath his fingertips, soft and fragile, and for a moment, he feared she might shatter under his touch. He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek, tracing the delicate line of her jaw.

She was still as beautiful as he remembered, but there was something different now—an emptiness in her that hadn’t been there before. She looked like a ghost, a shell of the vibrant, resilient girl he had known. And it was all because of them, the people he had just slaughtered, the people who had kept her in this hell.

A tear slipped down his cheek, an unwelcome sign of the emotions he had buried for so long. He wiped it away quickly, his expression hardening. There was no time for weakness now. He had to get her out of here, had to save her, even if he didn’t know if she could be saved.

Homelander began disconnecting the tubes and wires from her body, his movements slow and careful. Each piece of equipment that fell away felt like a chain being broken, a step closer to freeing her from this nightmare. He lifted her into his arms, holding her close to his chest, her head resting against his shoulder.

“You’re safe now,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “I’ve got you.”

He walked out of the lab, carrying her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, his grip firm but gentle. The night air was cold against his skin as he emerged into the open, but he barely noticed it. All he could focus on was her—the girl who had once been his only source of light in the darkness.

He flew to Vought Tower, faster than he had ever flown before, the world a blur around him. He couldn’t lose her again. He wouldn’t.

When he arrived, he stormed into the medical wing, barking orders at the staff to get the best doctors, the best equipment. The scientists scurried like frightened mice, too afraid of the wrath that radiated off him to question anything. They worked quickly, setting her up in a private room, hooking her up to machines that would monitor her vitals, but Homelander never left her side.

He watched as they worked, his eyes never leaving her face. He didn’t trust them, didn’t trust anyone with her life except himself. But he knew he couldn’t save her alone. Not this time.

As the night wore on, he sat by her bedside, his hand gently holding hers. He could feel the warmth returning to her skin, hear her heartbeat growing stronger, but she still hadn’t woken up. He prayed, silently and desperately, to whatever gods might listen, that she would open her eyes, that she would come back to him.

For hours, he stayed there, refusing to leave even when the doctors assured him she was stable. He couldn’t leave her, not again. The sight of her lying there, so still and fragile, filled him with a fear he hadn’t felt in years. The fear of losing her all over again.

As dawn broke, casting a soft light through the window, he finally allowed himself to hope. Her breathing was steady, her heartbeat strong, and though she was still unconscious, he could see the signs of life returning to her.

“You’re going to be okay,” he whispered, his voice filled with a determination that had carried him through countless battles. “I’ll make sure of it.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, the first real sign of tenderness he had shown anyone in years. As he pulled back, he saw a flicker of movement in her eyes, a twitch of her fingers, and his heart leaped in his chest.

“Come back to me,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. “Please.”

And for the first time since he had found her, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, she would.

[theburialofstrawberries]

Jackie says she was bullied as a fat kid and learned "how to fight back;" she goes crazy in Vegas when she hallucinates someone calling her fat. I think there's a direct line connecting this with Jackie's fight instinct to Lou constantly reiterating that Jackie killed J.J., and Lou locking Jackie inside the house. Over the payphone, Jackie's foster mother, curt: "Stay away from us, you monster." Lou doesn't know she is treating Jackie like a monster. Jackie can't have that feeling. Perhaps that's why she needs to run away to Vegas and win so bad: to disarm her size and her strength, to have those qualities be unimpeachable, only for show and admiration.

Jackie in turn is tripping all of Lou's wires. We know Lou thinks her mother ran away, and fears that Lou Sr. maybe killed her. But Lou Sr. goads her about an even deeper fear: that Lou's mom ran away not only to get away from her husband, but also to get away from her awful, complicit daughter. (Lou is so terrified this is true that she has red nightmares about it all movie long. When she's more afraid, there's more red on the screen, like the glow from the hospital's Coke vending machine when Lou Sr. confronts her about J.J.'s body.) If Jackie's response to being perceived as a monster is to fight, Lou's is to take flight: exit the situation for fear of abandonment. She comes close to doing this in the confrontation with Jackie after dinner with J.J. and Beth (a confrontation aborted only because of the lingering F.B.I. agent), but J.J.'s murder flings the shit into the fan.

Lou does everything in her power to cover up J.J.'s murder, and then Daisy's, so that Jackie doesn't leave her. But everything Lou does reminds Jackie that she's a monster (Daisy naked, victorious, whispering: "Lou doesn't want you anymore"). When Lou frees Jackie from her binds in the shed, Jackie takes off running, so caustic is the effect of this reminder ("I wish I never met you!") We know she's not running away for fear that Lou will kill her, because Jackie only really calms down when Lou convinces her that 1) she still desires Jackie, and (2) Jackie is not morally culpable for the murders of J.J. and Daisy. She was forced, for fear of Beth's life, for fear of Lou Sr. (Lou in her recounting was also forced to sleep with Daisy. Everyone is only ever forced to do bad things; no one is ever a bad person. Convenient!)

Lou has freed Jackie from several mental hang-ups. So Jackie joyfully reclaims her size and strength and breaks a guy's arms as easy as wringing a wet t-shirt. And Lou is now more aware of Jackie's inner turmoil than she was before. In the last scene, when she slips quietly out of the truck to kill Daisy, she is loathe to disturb Jackie's sleep, yes, and also her conscience.

[hardly-an-escape]

for @bucktommypositivityweek Thursday 8/22: soulmates/string of fate | meant to be | 870 words | rated T

“I hate it when people talk about twists of fate,” Anna liked to say. “When it comes to life, we spin our own yarn, and where we end up is really, in fact, where we always intended to be.” —Julia Glass, Three Junes

“Do you ever think…” Evan said idly, and then seemed to get distracted, following the path of a droplet of sweat with one fingertip as it wound its way down Tommy's temple toward his jaw.

It was a lazy Sunday morning, and they were still catching their breath, sticky and satisfied and gloriously naked together. Tommy had just been starting to think longingly about the coffee machine downstairs.

“Do I ever think what?” he asked.

“Hmm?” Evan said. He'd already replaced his finger with his mouth, dropping a line of light kisses down the side of Tommy's face.

“You started to ask me something. Do I ever think what?” Tommy prompted.

“Oh. Yeah. Do you ever think, like, what would it have been like? If we had met each other before. When I first joined the 118, I mean.”

“I don't think you would have liked me very much,” Tommy said.

“I know you wouldn't have liked me very much,” Evan chuckled. “I was kind of a dipshit.”

“Was?” Tommy said dryly, and Evan pushed ineffectively at the side of his face.

“Shut up,” he said. “I'm in my Buck 5.0 era.”

“I don't even know what that means.”

Evan snorted, and rolled on top of Tommy, and for another long minute got distracted again, rubbing a stubbled cheek against his neck and collarbone until Tommy’s skin was tingling pleasantly.

“I mean it, though,” Evan said thoughtfully, kissing the cleft in Tommy's chin. “You know, if you think about it, we – we came so close to meeting. So many times. Even me joining the 118 was like, such a near miss.”

“Right, because you came in as my replacement.”

“That's the thing,” Evan said, finally pushing off Tommy's chest to sit upright, and oh, Tommy realized, he'd really been thinking about this. “I don't think I did? Bobby mentioned once that he meant to hire me to fill the spot left by someone named... Deluca? I never met him.”

Tommy pushed himself up on one elbow. “Wait, what? Sal Deluca?”

“Yeah, I was supposed to come in to replace him, but then you transferred, too. So A shift was a man short for a while, which I actually didn’t even realize at the time? And then when Bobby brought Eddie on we were finally at full strength.”

“So what you’re saying,” Tommy said slowly, “is that you and I were supposed to work together?”

“Yeah!” Evan said excitedly. “I think so! Isn’t that wild? But then you decided you wanted to fly again, and so we didn’t even overlap.”

“Wow. That’s… kind of crazy.”

“I've kind of been realizing there's a whole bunch of moments like that. Like, these little things that were connecting us way before we ever met. Like how Chimney called you in for the water drop that time and I was on the ground. I, uh,” he smiled shyly. “I really like to think about that.”

“I like it, too,” Tommy said.

He rubbed absently at Evan's knee and let his mind wander. He'd seen pictures of Evan back then, when he was fresh out of the academy and still a probie. He looked slender and lanky like a colt. And so young. For all the ego that radiated from him, the Evan in those photos had a raw, unfinished quality to him. Like he hadn’t quite finished cooking yet.

“It explains something I overheard Bobby say last week,” Evan said.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, at the barbecue. I, uh, I wasn’t eavesdropping, I swear,” he said, and Tommy made an incredulous noise. “Really! I was getting us drinks, and Bobby and Athena were just inside, and he – he said something about how he knew we would work well together, and she was like, Really, all skeptical like she gets, and he was like, Maybe not the way I originally thought, and then they both kind of laughed.” Evan grinned down at him and laughed a little. “So maybe we were. You know. Meant to be.”

He sounded a little facetious, as though he was expecting Tommy to make fun of him. But Tommy found himself humming thoughtfully instead, running one hand up the unfairly long line of Evan’s thigh from his knee to his hip. Gripping him there, at the opposite shoulder, gently, and even more gently pushing him back against the pillows and insinuating himself between his legs.

Evan was still laughing, a little breathlessly now, and when Tommy kissed him, sweet and slow, he almost thought he could taste Evan’s smile on his lips.

“I don’t know if I really believe in soulmates, Evan,” he said, eventually. “But it does feel like there’s something there, doesn’t it? Some kind of string tying us together.”

They kissed again, and Tommy ground down a little against Evan’s pelvis, just for the pleasure of skin on skin, for the pleasure of a good kiss with absolutely nothing between them.

“I don’t know if I believe in soulmates either,” said Evan, still a little breathless. “But if I had one, I – I think it would be you, Tommy.”

“Yeah?” asked Tommy. He felt his heart stutter a little in his chest.

“Yeah,” said Evan. And kissed him again.

this has been languishing in my drafts for weeks and I finally finished it for Positivity Week! based on this post by @unfuckablebogtroll

[hunkpossession0]

**Riding a New Life: A Ghost's Journey**

I had been a wandering spirit for what felt like an eternity. Ever since the accident that severed my connection to the living world, I had been drifting through the ether, invisible and forgotten. That is, until today.

I found myself in a dimly lit parking garage, the scent of gasoline and rubber filling the air. The growl of an engine echoed off the walls, and that’s when I saw him—a young biker, effortlessly cool in his black and red leather suit, leaning casually against his sleek Honda. He was everything I had once admired from afar, back when I was alive.

I watched him for a moment, a pang of envy and longing coursing through my spectral form. Then, almost instinctively, I felt myself drawn toward him. There was a sudden pull, a rush of energy, and before I knew it, I was inside his body.

The moment I slipped into his form, it was as if the world exploded in sensation. The first thing I noticed was the heat—the intoxicating warmth of his skin, the snug embrace of the leather suit wrapping around me. It was a second skin, tight and form-fitting, accentuating every contour and muscle. The leather was smooth and supple, a mix of security and allure that was almost overwhelming.

I flexed my fingers, feeling the resistance of the gloves, the reassuring grip they provided. I couldn't help but admire the strength in these hands, the power in this body. My heart raced, not just from the thrill of possession, but from the sheer intensity of feeling alive again. The suit clung to me, a perfect fit, and I relished the way it made me look—strong, confident, and undeniably hot.

Every step I took in the leather suit was a new discovery. The way it accentuated my broad shoulders, the way it hugged my biceps and triceps, making every muscle pop with definition. I could feel the smooth caress of the leather against my skin, the way it moved with me, an extension of my newfound strength.

After an exhilarating ride through the city, I decided to explore more of what this new life had to offer. I had noticed a gym bag in the trunk of his bike, and an idea struck me. I headed to the local gym, eager to test the limits of this new body.

Entering the gym, I felt a wave of excitement. The scent of sweat and metal filled the air, and the rhythmic clanking of weights created a motivating soundtrack. I walked confidently to the locker room, changing into a tank top and workout pants that showed off my muscular physique. The reflection in the mirror was almost surreal—I was now this fit, handsome biker with a body that drew admiration and respect.

I started with some light stretches, feeling every muscle respond with a fluidity and power I had never experienced before. Moving to the weight section, I picked up a dumbbell, the cold metal heavy in my hand. I began a series of bicep curls, watching in awe as the muscles in my arms bulged and flexed.

The intensity of the workout was intoxicating. I pushed myself harder, feeling the burn in my muscles, the rush of endorphins coursing through my veins. I moved from one machine to another, challenging myself with each set, reveling in the strength and endurance of this body.

Between sets, I caught glimpses of myself in the mirror. The way the tank top clung to my chest and shoulders, the way my arms looked pumped and powerful—it was a heady mix of vanity and pride. I couldn't help but snap a quick selfie, capturing the moment of pure, unadulterated strength.

As the workout continued, I felt a growing sense of accomplishment. This body was capable of so much, and I was determined to explore its limits. The sweat poured down my skin, a testament to the hard work and effort I was putting in. And with each rep, each lift, I could feel myself growing more confident, more comfortable in this new skin.

But something was missing. My spectral journey had been long and lonely, and I longed to share this new life with someone who understood. That’s when I remembered my closest ghost friend, another lost soul who had wandered with me through the void. He deserved this chance too.

Later that evening, I returned to the parking garage, where I found another biker—a friend of the man whose body I had claimed. He was tall and lean, with a rugged handsomeness that made my decision easy. I called out to my ghost friend, guiding him to this new vessel.

With a rush of energy, my friend entered the biker’s body. The transformation was immediate. He blinked, adjusting to the new sensations, then looked at me with a mixture of awe and gratitude. We were no longer lost souls. We were alive, and we had each other.

Together, we returned to the gym. It was a surreal experience, seeing my friend in his new form, watching him flex and admire his new physique. We took a moment to capture it—a selfie of the two of us, side by side, strong and proud. The bond we shared as ghosts had transformed into something deeper, something more intimate.

In the gym mirror, we stood close, our bodies radiating strength and confidence. My friend, now in his own muscular form, flexed his bicep while I wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Our tank tops clung to us, revealing every sculpted muscle, every defined line. The pride in our eyes was unmistakable. Here we were, two souls reborn, finding a new life and love in the most unexpected way.

As the days passed, we explored our new lives together. We rode our bikes through the city, feeling the wind on our faces, the thrill of speed and freedom. We worked out side by side, pushing each other to new heights, celebrating every achievement.

Our connection grew stronger, evolving into a romantic bond that felt natural and right. We were a couple now, navigating this new world together. The love we had for each other, forged in the ethereal realm, blossomed in our new, physical forms.

And as we stood together, gazing at our reflections, we knew that this was just the beginning. We had found a new home, a new life, and most importantly, we had found each other. The road ahead was ours to conquer, and we were ready to face it together.

The leather suit, which had started it all, became a symbol of our transformation. Every time I slipped into it, I felt a rush of excitement and power. The way it hugged my body, the way it made me look and feel—it was exhilarating. And as we rode together, side by side, I knew that we were more than just bikers. We were partners, lovers, and together, we were unstoppable.

[littlerequiem]

the hitchhiker's guide to isekai ˚⁎⁺ levi x gn!reader

CONTENT — Levi getting isekai'd into our world, (questionable) humor, slice of life, swearing, Levi is a boomer when it comes to technology, pop culture refs, suggestive, mentions of bondage (wc: 1.1k words). Written for Day 3 - Isekai, Levi Month 2024 - @levievent

For as long as you could remember, Levi Ackerman had always been your favorite fictional character. There was something about his strength, his empathy, and his kindness that drew you to him.

Then, one day, the universe delivered him on a silver platter.

It was midsummer night when you found him. There he was, lying in your new antique wardrobe, groggy and half asleep, dark hair tousled to the side. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing; was this really your favorite anime character, in the flesh?

Before you could think on the logistics of it all, however, Levi was already reaching for the small knife tucked in his boot.

And threatening you with it.

It all happened in a flash.

With your heart drumming in your chest, you remember fumbling for words, looking straight into those sharp, silver eyes you’d always imagined must shine like starlight (and gods, they truly did).

Looking back, your first words lacked a certain decorum. “Wh—who—is this some kind of skit, huh? Are you some kind of pervert?!?”

Levi looked at you then like you were a complete idiot.

As it turned out, Levi was not, in fact, a pervert, nor did he mean to end up here in the first place.

Instead, he told you the hard facts: that he was Levi Ackerman, Captain of the Survey Corps. That he owned the same closet in his office, only in his own world. That the last thing he remembers was falling asleep in this piece of furniture, an attempt to hide from Hange who’d been up in arms trying to convince him to help with an experiment.

Your reality, it seemed, was connected to the Attack on Titan universe through a mysterious wardrobe.

(Like fucking Narnia.)

It was then that it was decided that he would stay with you until he found a way home.

A month has passed since this first moment, and to say that your daily life has been altered would be an understatement. You’re living with one of your personal heroes, after all—not that you let him know you view him as such.

Levi is trying to get back to his world, and in the meantime, Levi gets to discover your world: the joys of washing machines, the taste of matcha tea, the ease of hoovers, rock music.

And today, he’s uncovering the mystery that is the internet.

“I don’t understand,” Levi grumbles, his voice rough like sandpaper. Lines of tension form across his pale forehead, his gaze fixed on your laptop propped on the kitchen table. “People spend their time looking at cat... paintings?”

He’s perusing your blog.

“These are actually photographs that you’re looking at, but I suppose people also love drawings of cats. Cats are a very popular topic, see,” you explain, coming closer as you stop him from clicking on a sketchy looking pop up: ‘Free iPhone 15! Claim Yours Now’.

Levi's charged gaze follows as he watches you go about it; you have the thought he smells nice, like fresh linen and tea.

You clear your throat, withdrawing from his personal space. “Um... anyway, that’s not all you can do with the internet. People use it for all sorts of things: you can look up the news, the weather, forums…”

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair. “What’s that? Sounds like a disease.”

Ah, where to start...

“Forums are online spaces where people can discuss things. You can host debates, provide instructions, and more. Personally, I use them to gush about things I love. Like books!”

Levi clicks his tongue. “So, a bookclub?”

“Mm, yes, and no. Like sure, on the forum I'm a mod for, I love to discuss the plot, the characters, and the writing, but I also just enjoy goofing around with my friends and sharing memes.”

“Me...mes.” Levi looks puzzled by this word.

You stifle a snort. “Memes are like... jokes. Only sometimes, they're also cultural staples.” At his skeptical expression, you shrug. “I guess this world is different from yours, in that respect. We have... less immediate dangers, more free time.”

“That's not a bad thing,” he mutters, tone oddly soft. He averts his tepid gaze, looking back to your blog as he exhales through his nose. “But your world still makes no sense to me. Especially all of this.”

He nods towards the web page.

“It’s okay, the internet takes a while to get used to," you say. "Even for me... I constantly feel like an old crone whenever I hear all the lingo kids are coming up with these days.”

“Hmph.”

Levi looks unimpressed. So, forums—and the internet, it seems—aren’t his thing. Probably for the better—the last thing you need right now is for him to realize there’s a whole fanbase devoted to discussing his character (not to mention the other, less PG-friendly aspects of the conversation).

“Hey, how about we take a break?" You tilt your head, flashing him an easy smile. "You’ve been staring at the screen all morning. It can be a strain on your eyesight.”

Levi’s half-lidded stare crinkles, his lips pursing into a thoughtful pout, the same look he gets whenever you throw him scraps of information about your world and its strange customs.

“I was planning to make some tea,” you add, “want a cup?”

“… if you're making one anyway,” he mumbles, scowling in a way that reminds you of a grumpy cat. Cute.

You head towards your small kitchen, grabbing Levi’s favorite tea bag and laying out clean cups. As the kettle groans alive and you eventually hear that familiar sizzling that tells you the water’s come to a boil, another noise coming from behind garners your attention.

“Oi, something happened to your cat photo-thing,” you overhear Levi drawl.

You turn with a raised brow.

That’s when you notice that Levi’s somehow ended up on your desktop page, the familiar sight of your screensaver (more cats!) appearing into view.

But that’s also when you notice the mouse is hovering dangerous close to one of your folders... your babygirl folder.

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no...

“DON’T CLICK THAT!” you plead, attempting to rush to his side to avoid the embarrassment of a lifetime.

Too late. Levi has entered the folder and somehow managed to click on one of the more scandalous pictures; your peripheral catches his expression, and it's the most stupor you've seen on his face yet... and is that pink dusting his cheeks?

Because Levi is looking straight at one of the fanarts you’d saved of him months ago.

Where his pixelated counterpart is tied up. Stark naked.

Well, shit.

— Masterlist / Join my taglist

[momoswifee]

A Quiet Life

Pairing: Mina x reader

Synopsis: After some years of being together, some problems start to arise.

Warnings: The reader has abandonment issues, Mina is mean in the beginning, they love each other though. Dinking, curse words, motor accidents. They go camping.

w/c: 6003

a/n: It took so long to write this out since I didn’t really know how to do it? Idrk how to explain it but it was a bit harder than I expected. There’s more chapters coming so I hope you guys like it :)Also sorry if there are any grammar mistakes or misspelled words, English is not my first language.

Pt1- Pt2 - Pt3

Two years after you started dating you started to notice more and more Mina’s unhealthy commitment to her job. Of course you were amazed by her skill and how deeply connected she was to her job, but at a certain point it started to be something that had started to impact your relationship negatively. She would no longer stay at your now shared home, instead staying at her apartment even during her breaks, she would answer your texts with short “ok’s” and promises to call you later. 

Now, you sat next to her, the beeping of the machine next to you starting to give you a headache. You hadn’t been able to sleep since you had got to the hospital after Sana had called you, saying that she had found Mina fainted in her apartment. After talking to the doctors, they told you that she was severely dehydrated, underfed and probably running on caffeine. It seemed that she had been intentionally sleep-deprived so that she could do a better job with her part in the upcoming movie. 

“She is taking fluids, she will be okay.” The doctor briefly said in a comforting manner before leaving the room.

You sat right beside her bed, beating yourself up for not seeing the signs. The dodging calls, the short messages. You only thought it was due to increasing stress, you could’ve never guessed that it would’ve come to this. You were aware that Mina tended to overwork herself, but never to this extent. 

“Hmm” you hear from besides you and see Mina slowly open her eyes, a lazy smile forming on her lips as she notices you besides her. “Hi baby” she slurs out. As soon as she opens her eyes, you’re on your feet and already calling for the nurse, just hoping for someone to come and see if Mina is actually fine. “Hey, I’m fine,” she laughs out with a slight rasp, as if your actions are too much. 

“I just want to see if you’re actually fine.” You curtly say, not letting your worry lace itself into your voice. 

“I’m totally fine, they’ll probably tell you that I’m good to go.” She tells you with a smile, trying to sit up, but wincing as she sees that she doesn’t really have the strength to do it properly. 

“Don’t get up, you’re too weak for that.” You tell her sternly as you go to gently push her down so that she is laying down. 

After the nurse had come and had reassured you that everything seemed to be alright for now, you were told that a doctor would come later on to explain what to do next. 

The beeping of the machine is again the only noise in the room, as you can’t bring yourself to speak about what had happened. 

“Sana probably overreacted. I’m totally fine.” Mina says, already going through her bag to get her phone, probably to go back to work as soon as possible. 

“Give me that” You say, snatching the phone from her hands and putting it inside your pocket so that she wouldn’t be able to get her hands on it. “Do not say that Sana overreacted. You fainted. She found you on the floor, she was terrified.” You tell her as you pace around the room, already feeling agitated. 

“It was not that bad…” She tries to say. 

“Not that bad?! Mina!” You stop at her words. “The doctors said you were not eating, not drinking any water. It was something that had been going on for a while! What were you thinking!” You finally say, not even noticing you had raised your voice. “I was worried sick when I got here! Sana was frantic at the door, completely terrified for you, and you were so pale, you look sick.” You spit out.

“Oh yeah poor Sana.” She scoffs. “This is how it is. It’s what it is to work in the industry!” she lets out, letting her frustration come out as well. 

“Don’t use that as an excuse. You have tendencies of overworking yourself. Everyone knows that. I just didn’t think it would get this bad.” You say, frustrated by her attitude, turning your back to her, not wanting to escalate the situation, knowing it wouldn’t be completely fair to her.  You were just so worried about her. 

“Well, it’s my job, it’s how it works whether you like it or not!” She exclaims, getting riled up. “I’m living my dream. I got here on my own, and I worked damn hard to get here.” She continues, forcing herself up to stress her point. “I feel sorry for you. You lost the opportunity of completing your dream. You got hurt and were put off, but guess what! We can’t all spend our days at the shop doing arts and crafts on old furniture or just picking up fruit.” She says rolling her eyes, finding your mini outburst almost ridiculous, mind still clouded with her want to go back to work. “I’m sorry your dream of becoming a famous player didn’t work out,” she continues, not showing signs of stopping. “But I have worked hard to get here, and I’m not going to let a failed hockey player turned arts and crafts kid dictate how I live my life.” 

Every single word she spits out feel like a punch to the gut. You don’t even realize tear had fallen until you feel the salty water slip through your parted lips. “You didn’t sleep for days.” You sigh, closing your eyes, trying to not let her words cloud your judgement. “I hope you’re saying all of this because of this high you’re running on and not because these are thoughts you actually believe in.” You say, now looking her straight in the eye, clenching your fists, hurting your finger from pressing on the promise ring mina had given you on your 2nd year anniversary. “I’m worried about you, and I am asking you to please stop this.” You say, hurt still clear on your face from her previous hurtful words, as you get closer to her bed, taking her hand in yours. 

“Leave then.” Mina says, almost snarling, anger clearly etched on her features as she rips her hand angrily from your gentle ones,  

“Mina…” You say, voice cracking, your hand gaining a mind of its own as it tries to hold hers again. 

“No! Leave. If I’m such a nuisance, if my work habits are too much for you, there’s the door.”

“I-.” You sigh, not finding strength to go on again. “Ok.” You get up, take the phone from your pocket and let it fall on her side, and her hand instead of going to yours, as it was still stubbornly waiting for hers, takes her phone quickly. 

You can only look at her with something alike to disdain. The more you look at her, the more weight you feel on your right hand, the ring looking misplaced. With a final sigh, you take it off and gently place it on the table. As you leave her room, you quickly send a message to Sana to let her know that Mina had woken up and that you would leave for a little while.

Once inside your car, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually turn it on, keys still clenched in your hands. After finally gaining the courage to start the car, you start driving aimlessly and suddenly find yourself in front of Jihyo’s apartment complex. You get out of the car and fight yourself on whether you should ring her door or not, not feeling like you should bother her. As you internally fight yourself on that, you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. 

“Yn hey, it’s fine” Jihyo says, after seeing you almost jump away from her when she touches you. “Did we have plans?” 

“Uh no- I- I’m sorry no, I just-” You start, stumbling over your words, not knowing what to say exactly. 

“Hey, it’s fine,” she quickly says, grabbing your shoulders, seeing your distressed state. “Let’s go upstairs, we can talk there, yeah?” she asks, guiding you to her flat. 

After you finally tell her all about what had happened, you finally feel comfortable enough to let out a broken sigh, triggering your tears. 

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it, but I-” you gasp in between. “I was so worried when Sana called. When I got there, she looked so pale, so unlike herself.” You say while trying to calm yourself, hastily trying to wipe off your tears. 

“Look,” Jihyo starts, sighing, not knowing exactly what to say. “I’m calling Jeongyeon, see if she can get here. You’re sleeping here, I’m not letting you go back home in this state.” she says, getting up from the couch. “I’m getting you some clothes, you go take a shower because you reek of hospital.” she continues, trying to lighten up the mood with her final statement, successfully drawing a small smile from you. 

As soon as you felt the warm water hit your skin, the tension from the fight started to dissolve, but you still couldn’t stop thinking about Mina’s words. Did she actually see you as a joke? As, as she put it, a child? You felt sick. 

Once out of the shower and into Jihyo’s old clothes, you start going towards her kitchen and suddenly hear Jihyo discussing something over the phone.  

“I don’t care if she’s worried sick! Do you know what she told Yn?” Jihyo angrily whispers, trying to speak as quietly as she can so that you would not hear it. “She was awful to her, and I understand that she’s in a vulnerable place, but she does not have the right to say that to Yn.” 

“Hey, Jihyo called. I got food.” Jeongyeon says from behind you, startling you again. 

“Gosh, you really didn’t have to,” You turn to her, half forgetting about Jihyo’s discussion. “You really didn’t have to come.” 

“Of course I did, she understands.” She says, rolling her eyes playfully at your behaviour. “Come” she says, gently grabbing your arm, guiding you to a table. 

As she makes a plate for you, after much resistance from you, you feel Jihyo come to sit next to you. 

“Sana called.” she sighs. “Mina is worried about you.” she continues, attentive to your reaction, which turns out to only be a low hm, which shocks both your friends. Not wanting to bring you any kind of discomfort, they decide to leave it behind and just try and have an enjoyable dinner. Once you were done, you shooed them away so you could put the dishes away. 

“I’ll go there tomorrow. Maybe she’ll have a clearer head.” You whisper, head comfortably laid on the oldest shoulder, as you three watch a passing movie on the TV. 

“I have a free day tomorrow; I’ll drive you there.” Jihyo tells you, not leaving any room for discussion. 

As soon as you hear their deep breaths and light snores signalling their sleeping state, you turn your phone back on. Once it’s up and running, you see all the messages sent to you, most of them being apologies from Mina. As you read them you debate if you should answer her, if you should give her the comfort of knowing that you’re ok and have read her messages. You decide not to. 

❂

“We’re going to be there, if anything happens, we can just leave.” Jihyo says as you both walk the hospital corridors towards Mina’s room. 

“I just have to talk to her, nothing is going to happen,” you tell them, laughing at their overprotective expressions. 

When you see the door of her room, you feel all the confidence you had been building throughout the morning vanish instantly, and all the words said to you previously come rushing back as soon as you’re inside the room and eye to eye with Mina.

“Yn” Mina gasps out, immediately trying to get up from the bed. 

“No, keep down, you still look weak.” You rush out to her side, not wanting her to get up so quickly. 

“The doctors said I can go home today, I look worse than I actually am” she says with a little laugh, trying to get you to laugh as well but only receiving a nod from you. 

“We’ll leave you to it.” Sana says, breaking the silence, dragging Jihyo with her. 

“I’m staying here with Yn”

“They need to talk, let's go”

“I-” Mina starts after you were left alone. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you mean it?” You ask her, still not looking at her, choosing to stare out of the window instead. 

“No!” she quickly says. “I- I don’t know why I said those things,” she continues with a pained expression. “I’m sorry, Yn, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Mina I-” you sigh, going to sit next to her, noticing her state of distress. “I’m sure you meant some of it-

“I didn’t!” she cuts you off, grabbing your hands, desperate to make you understand. "I don't think any of those things. Those are some of the parts of you that I love the most." She continues, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "The way you so carefully pick the fruit, the way you tend so caringly to your garden is just amazing to me, every time I go back home and see you do those things I feel filled with so much love for you, you don't understand..." She trails off. "I adore the way you, with your masterful hands, craft beautiful pieces for our and others home. I can't even look away when I see you so tenderly restore some pieces that were thrown away by others." She says, stressing her words by bringing your hands to her lips and gently placing small kisses on your knuckles.

“I don’t know why I said those things. I was stressed, I was anxious with all of it and I redirected that to you because I know deep down those are things about yourself that you sometimes doubt are even useful. I shouldn’t have done it, it’s no excuse.” 

“I-” you start at a loss for words after her small confession. “Mina…” you say, looking at your intertwined hands. “I think I understand, but it still hurt.” you continue. “And I need you to try and take a break from all of it. I need you to rest.”

“You can’t just ask me that.” She frowns.

“Mina you-” you say, taking in a breath not wanting to get frustrated with her, knowing this is just how her mind has been wired for a while. “You were sent to the hospital. Can’t you see that you need a break?”

“Can’t you see that you’re asking me to take a break from something that I love? I just told you how good you are at doing things that you love, how can you ask me to stop doing the same?” she weakly asks, taking slowly her hand away from yours. 

“The doctor said you were okay to go home, that you’re good to enough to leave the hospital, not to go back to work.” You try, as gently as possible. “You have to take a break, I’m not asking you to leave your work behind, I know that it’s what makes you, you. I’m just asking you to take a breath at home, regain your energy, maybe in the meantime you’ll understand that what you’re doing isn’t exactly healthy.”

“I’ll follow the doctors’ orders for now, we can work on the other part later, ok?” she asks, making you almost instantly give in, although you weren’t at all satisfied with the suggested compromise, thinking to yourself that you would just keep an eye on her and then start working on her overworking tendencies.

❂

Mina hadn't been able to see you in a while since she had been abroad filming her final scenes in an upcoming movie and the distance had taken a toll on both of you. She missed you, she missed her house. When she was finally done with filming her final scenes, she booked the ticket as soon as possible to go home to you. 

As soon as she pulls up in the driveway, she is faced with something she had missed: you running around the garden chasing a very wet Otis with a hose in his mouth. 

"You come here!" You say as you chase Otis around the backyard, trying to stop him from going inside. 

"What is going on?" Mina asks, unable to contain her laughter, as she gets out of the car and runs to the porch, out of the war zone. 

"I-" you stop for a minute to regain your breath. "Mina" you say smiling at her, starting to walk up to her and engulfing her in a hug. "I missed you" you whisper, voice muffled by her shoulder. “You should’ve told me you were coming back! I thought it was only by the end of the week!”

She laughs and hugs you just as tight, kissing your head. "I missed you too, just wanted to surprise you."

Suddenly you both hear a bark, making you quickly pull away to see what had happened, only to see Otis completely covered in mud. 

"You know, that had to be replaced anyway..." Mina says laughing as she watches you chase around your dog. 

"Didn't have to be replaced because of this" you say, out of breath, already with the hose in hand, looking down to your clothes now as dirty as him. 

After finally being able to catch him and bringing him for a long bath, he has returned to his previous white fur and was sprawled on top of Mina as they watched the news, and you cooked dinner.

"Is he interested on the rise of the prices of housing in central Europe?" You ask, watching over both of them attentively. 

"Oh yeah, he had plans of getting a house there and maybe settling down, but I guess he'll have to look elsewhere." She says, caressing behind Otis's ears. 

"Oh yeah definitely, after the stunt he pulled today, he's going to have to compensate the damage with a week of his pay cheque"

"A week?!" She exclaims in mock offence, twisting her neck to be able to look at you. "He's such a hard worker, and you just take all of that from him?" 

"Shouldn't have flooded the garden." You say shrugging. 

"Oh bud, she doesn't deserve your love." Mina says pushing her face into his fur, kissing him to comfort him over his salary being reduced, making you laugh at the sight. 

As you were dicing some of the vegetables you see Mina's hands sneak around your waist and feel her face behind pressed against your back. 

"I missed this," she says, voice muffled. "You being a complete asshole to our son, watching you cook us dinner"

"You ass" you say laughing turning around in her arms after her comment. "I was not an asshole to Otis"

She only laughs, head slightly tilted, giving you her best smile. "Tomato, Tomato"

"There is no Tomato or Tomato in this situation" you chuckle, resting your head on her shoulder. 

"Eh there is" she continues, not willing to 'let you win'. "What are your plans for tomorrow?" she finally asks, stepping a little away from you so that you can tend to the food. 

"Hmm" you say as you move to look over the sizzling fish, still feeling her hand softly on your hip. "I was thinking we could stay in?" you suggest, to which she quickly agrees, eager to spend some quality time with you. 

Once you're in bed waiting for Mina to join you after she finishes her night routine, you decide to read one last chapter. Since you were too engrossed into the book, you didn't even feel the bed dip beside you and Mina's presence until she adjusts your falling glasses. 

"You need to get them adjusted," she whispers curling up next to your sitting frame, making you immediately drop the book and take off your glasses to join her. 

"They're perfectly fine." You assure her, bringing her closer to you and nuzzling your face into her neck, feeling her hair tickling your face. Not feeling energized to answer, she only hums appreciating the warmth of your skin against hers.

❂

Mina took every opportunity to be with you, not taking any moment for granted, just wanting to be near you. Once you noticed she was spending more and more time with you, even at work (not that you were at all complaining) you eventually asked if she'd like to help in the shop. You had to admit that it was nice to have her around you almost all the time. The time she had spent abroad filming her movie had been hard on both of you. 

After finally finding a day that worked for everyone, you all organized a camping outing between friends by the lake nearby. The difficult part wasn’t making time and finding free time in between schedules, the difficult time was Mina finding the courage to wake you up, so now there she laid you on top of her, head snuggled into the crock of her neck, letting out soft snores.  Even though she had already been home for some time now, Mina still took a deep breath after she woke up every day. The little lavender accents that she had added when she moved in with you, your citrus fragrance lingering in the air, it was all everything she could ask for. After completely waking up, she noticed you were still asleep, and she couldn't bear to wake you up.

She gently moved you so that you wouldn't wake up and quietly went to the kitchen to prepare you both breakfast and everything to take for the picnic. 

“I don’t think I like this new habit of yours where you just don’t wake me up and do everything yourself.” You slur out as you lazily walk into the kitchen straight towards her.

“You look too peaceful to wake up, I always hate doing that.” 

You hum against her back before letting go, groaning as you stretch your arms out, exposing some of your skin as your shirt rides up. 

“You know…” you hear from behind, feeling her hands already sneaking up your shirt, tickling your skin. “We can just say we caught the flu and stay in?” She says, kissing up your jaw. 

“They’ll kill us.” You try, but not making any attempt to move away from her. 

She only non-committally nods in response to your reasoning, leaning in to brush her lips against yours. “I’m sure we’ll be just fine”. She pulls you in by the waist, her hands creeping up your back as she finally leans in to kiss you. 

As you’re getting busy, not even thinking about the outing that had been planned with your friends, your phone starts to ring. 

“I’m killing whoever is calling you,” Mina whispers against your lips, hands secure on your waist, not wanting to let you go. 

“I swear to everything holy, if you’re not ready to go I’m coming over and putting you inside the trunk of my car”

“I’ve always loved your good mornings, so supportive, so wholesome.” you say rolling your eyes as you pick up the phone, looking over to a questioning Mina on your side. “It’s Jihyo.” you whisper to her. 

“I would be nice if you had a record of being on time you know?”

“I’m always on time!”

Since you seemed to be too occupied with the call and no longer focusing on her, Mina decided to finish packing the fruits before letting you know she would be going to get ready, 

“We’ll be there on time, but you do realize it’s just a picnic, right?” you ask her, half amused, as you put the drinks inside the cooler. 

“I’m well aware, I just wanted to make sure.”

“Sure, I’m still in my pjs but we’ll be there on time”

“You’re still on your-”

“Bye!” you say, cutting her off, happy with yourself for riling her up a little.

❂

“I told you to get those tightened,” Mina says as she watches your glasses slide off your face as you lean down to pick up the cooler. “Last week they almost fell into the dishwasher.” 

“I know…” You say, adjusting said glasses. “I planned on going yesterday, but then I had to stay at the shop, so I didn’t really get a chance.”

“She could’ve just got them tightened when we went to pick them out, but she didn’t want to say anything.” Jihyo shrugs, coming up from behind you to help take off more of the food from the car.

“They were good at the time, they were not as loose, shut up.” You say, walking towards the pebbles near the lake. 

“They were, you just avoid talking to other people when it comes to things like this, so now you have extra loose glasses,” Jeongyeon adds as she follows the two of you. 

“I’ll go right after the weekend.” You groan, rolling your eyes playfully at their insistence. 

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, I’m older than you” Jihyo says, pinching your arm playfully

“By two months??” you exclaim, rubbing your arm

“Still older” she shrugs

After setting up the tents at the camping park, you take a walk down to the lake. Once you arrive, you are met with a beautiful body of water in yellow and greenish shades, surrounded by big trees with branches so big they were almost covering the sky. There were little frogs leaping through the little pebbles and fish swimming through the algae. You decide to sit up on the grass near the rocks, seeming like a good place to stay to enjoy the quiet. 

“This deck will need fixing soon…” Jeongyeon says as she picks up a loose wooden part at the beginning of it. Her concerns fall on deaf hears as she sees you running past her with a very competitive Jihyo right behind you towards the water.

Mina had decided to just sit at the edge of it, happy to just watch you all swim around, it not being her favourite activity. She was satisfied with just watching you have fun. Her eyes were stuck on you when suddenly you decided to dive and didn’t come right up. As she goes to get up, worry already starting to spread to her, you come up for air, right next to where she stood, giving her a silly smile, making her heart melt and worry disappear.

"Thought I lost you there," she says, returning your smile, tracing little stars on your wet shoulders. 

"Were you worried?” you ask laughing. “You know you can’t get rid of me that easily". 

“I’m glad.” She says, looking down at you lovingly. If she weren’t in public with all your friends watching, she would’ve probably let herself fall into the water to kiss all over your face. Instead, you both just stayed there for a while, simply basking in each other’s presence, not seeing any need in getting out. 

“Mina?” Sana called out. “Your agent is calling you!”

“On a Sunday of all days.” Mina grumbles as she gets up quickly, annoyed for having her quiet time interrupted.  

You only chuckle, continuing to swim through the warm water. 

“I thought she was on holiday?” Jihyo asks, swimming towards you, flicking water from her fingers to your face. 

“Yup, must be something to do with the press tour? ‘m not sure though…” 

After a while of mindless talking, Mina comes back with a small smile on her face. 

“So?” 

“I just have to go to the office next week, have some papers to sign because of a deal.” she happily says, sitting again on the deck.

“That’s really good!” You say as you swim towards her, kissing the hand dangling into the water. “If you want, I can drive you there.” You suggest, gaining the immediate approval of your friend. 

“Yes, please, I have been trying to get her to come try the new ice rink that just opened up.”  She says, shaking you by the shoulders. 

“Why are you shaking me, you turd?” You say, shaking her hands away from you, spitting out the water you almost swallowed.  

“ ‘Cuz I want you to come play with me” She retorts. 

“Sana?” Mina calls. “Want to arrange a play date? These two want to hang out.”

“Aw yeah, of course, here’s my phone.” She says, handing her phone to Mina and getting in on the little joke. “Put your number in, and we’ll arrange it!”

They only laugh more when they see you both staring at them with no reaction. 

“Do they think they’re funny?” Jihyo asks, looking at you, still with no expression on her face.

 “I think they think they’re hilarious.”

After deciding that you were taking Mina to the agency and later going to play with Jihyo, you let yourself be swallowed by the water, still hearing Mina’s melodious laugh through the water surrounding you. Out of nowhere, a crashing sound is heard, right to your left, making you look right away. There is Mina, smiling at you with the thin sun rays illuminating her face, wiggling towards you to bring you closer to her. Once close enough, she softly plants her lips on yours in a brief kiss, before grabbing your hand and swimming up to get you both to the surface. 

❂

“...no I don’t think you understand,” Jeongyeon laughs. “Those two during Halloween were just not the little saints everyone thought they were.” she continues as she points to you and Jihyo, both annoyed by her idea of sharing childhood stories. 

“Whatever she says is going to be greatly exaggerated, just so you know.” Jihyo cuts in, as she prepares the meat. 

“Agreed, what we did was perfectly reasonable”

“Anyway, during Halloween,” she continues, ignoring your objections. “Those two loved to dress up in the most elaborate costumes to get as much candy as possible. So, one year they devised a plan. They canvassed the houses in town to see where they handed most of the candy. A week before Halloween they arranged a little stand on the playground and lured kids in, saying they had a map of the best places to get candy. They told them that to get the map, they had to pay 1 dollar, and since a lot of kids thought this was a great idea, almost everyone gave them the money. Yn to rile them in even gave a speech about how people were starting to care less about actually giving out candy, that children no longer need that much sugar in their tiny bodies.” By that point, you get up and go to Jihyo’s side. 

“Think Mina will ever let me near her nephew again?” 

“I mean it’s not like we actually did something bad,” she says, and even if you’re not directly facing her, you know she has a big smile on her face. 

“...turns out, that was a map of the health brigade parents, that at the time were just giving out fruit and stuff like trail mix. Those two went to all the right houses and since no kid had shown up all night, they got all the candy from these oh so innocent kind-hearted people. They were thrilled and ran home as soon as possible with all the candy they got their tiny hands on.” By then Mina has her head thrown back, laughing at your idiotic plans from when you were ten, and for once you thanked Jeongyeon for airing your stories out. 

“I had to be their bodyguard for like a week since there were a lot of angry kids after them,” Jeongyeon says in between laughs. “They were lucky they had a friend in a higher grade to ‘protect’ them.” She proudly ends. 

“You took 30 percent of our candies, you didn’t do it for free.” You grumble as you sit in your previous spot. “So please get out of your high horse.”

“Well,” she starts grinning at your annoyed face. “My services aren’t for free-”

“You also ratted us out to our parents,” Jihyo says cutting her off. 

“You got grounded?” Mina asks, laughing at you both. 

“I did, had to give out half of the candy to the other kids…” Jihyo complains, letting her head fall on Sana’s shoulder. 

“My dad just took half my sweets, he said it wasn’t that bad of an idea, just poorly executed.” You shrug with a smile on your face. 

“Yeah, you’re not going to be allowed to be alone with my nephew again, you’ll corrupt him.” Mina teasingly says.

The night goes on, and more stories are shared until Mina and Sana are saying their good nights and going to their tents, leaving you and your friends behind. 

“It’s a shame Nayeon couldn’t come.” Jihyo says after a moment of silence, gaining hums of agreement. 

“Yeah, but she couldn’t just fly in, she had the business trip planned for a while.”

“Speaking off…” Jihyo starts, wiggling her eyebrows at you. “Have you picked it up?”

“How was that even related?”

“I- uh yeah” you say, picking up your phone to show them a picture of it. 

“Hm, you picked well.” Jeongyeon tells you, her hand squeezing your shoulder. 

You could only smile at them, happy to have their support through all of this. From the moment you called them in a state akin to panic to this very moment. You couldn’t wait for the perfect moment to finally ask Mina. 

❂

“Ok so, I’ll call you but I’m probably going to be done by 7, and we can grab dinner.” Mina offers through the window of your car. 

“We’re probably done by 7-7:30? She said it was right by her house but it’s 30 minutes out.”

“I’ll wait at Sana’s then. The agency is not too far from her house, I can catch an Uber or something.”

Once you’re done with the little drills in the new rink, you wait for Jihyo to finish up hers. 

“So, have you given it more thought? Do you know when you’ll be popping the question?” Jihyo says, skating to you after putting in some pucks. 

“I’m not sure? She’s going on her press tour soon, so I think I’ll wait for a bit,” you say getting up to help her with her gear.  “I have all the time in the world.” You add with a lovesick smile. 

“You’re insufferable I hate it.” She says jokingly, taking off her helmet. “Help me carry these out, the kids didn’t storage them.” She points to the cones next to the wall. 

Once out of the rink and ready to pick Mina up after a short shower, you’re both inside the car and Jihyo is deep in her feels, blasting “Casual” by Chappell Roan. 

“You are in a stable relationship, why are you screaming like someone took your heart out and stomped on it?” you question laughing at her behavior. 

“I just imagined a scenario so that I could sing it with passion, obviously” she simply answers, not caring about your teasing comment. “No way!” She suddenly says. 

“What?” You quickly answer, alert to whatever danger she might me pointing out.

“Look over there,” she says, pointing at the tree you were about to pass. “There are owls here too!” she excitedly tells you. 

You laugh at that but do take your eyes off the road for a second to look at them. If you hadn’t, you would have noticed that the driver didn’t see his stop sign and was heading straight to you.

[estellan0vella]

My Love, My Life ❀ includes: Gojo, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji, Yuta, Megumi, Yuji & Toge (REQUESTED) Part 2 to this

On the third day of his relentless wait, as dawn begins to break and the first rays of sunlight filter through the window, something shifts. Gojo, eyes closed but not asleep, feels a faint squeeze around his fingers. His eyes snap open, his heart pounding as he looks down at your hand, still entwined with his.

"Is it...?" he whispers, hope and fear battling within him.

Then he sees it—a flicker of movement, your eyelids fluttering as if fighting to open. He leans forward, his breath catching in his throat. "Come on," he murmurs, his voice trembling. "You can do it."

Slowly, agonizingly, your eyes open. They are unfocused at first, searching the room, but when they land on him, a spark of recognition flickers in your gaze. Tears of relief fill Gojo's eyes, and he squeezes your hand gently, afraid to let go.

"Hey," he whispers, his voice breaking with emotion. "Welcome back."

Your lips part, and though it takes immense effort, you manage to speak, your voice weak. "'Toru..."

Hearing your voice again is like a miracle. He chokes back a sob, nodding fervently. "I'm here," he assures you, his grip on your hand tightening. "I'm right here. You're going to be okay."

Tears of relief and joy mix with the lingering fear as he watches you slowly come back to life. The strongest sorcerer in the world, once feeling helpless, now clings to the hope that you will recover. Your eyes meet his, and in that moment, despite the pain and the tubes and wires, there is a connection, a promise of healing and love.

"I love you," he whispers, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead. "And I'll never leave your side."

You manage a faint smile, your strength returning with each passing second. "I love you too," you reply, your voice a fragile whisper but filled with the same unwavering emotion.

Days pass like an eternity in the sterile hospital room, each moment weighted with uncertainty and longing. Nanami Kento remains steadfast by your bedside, his vigil unbroken despite the exhaustion etched into every line of his face. The steady rhythm of the monitors becomes a monotonous soundtrack to his thoughts, a constant reminder of your fragile state.

Then, as if a miracle whispered through the hushed corridors, there's a subtle shift in the air. Nanami's breath catches as he notices the faint flutter of your eyelids, a sign so small yet significant in the vast expanse of the room. His heart pounds against his chest, hope and fear waging war within him.

"Ken..." Your voice is barely a whisper, but it echoes through the room like a symphony to his ears. His head snaps up, disbelief and relief flooding his features as he meets your gaze, those eyes that he feared he might never see again.

"I'm here," he breathes, his voice thick with emotion as he reaches for your hand, gripping it tightly as if afraid you might slip away again. "I've been here."

You struggle to sit up, weak from your ordeal, but determination shines in your eyes. Nanami moves to help you, offering his unwavering support as you find your strength. Tears glisten in his eyes as he watches you, a mixture of overwhelming joy and profound gratitude swelling in his heart.

"I thought I lost you," he confesses, his voice trembling with emotion. "I couldn't bear the thought of facing this world without you."

You reach out, your fingers brushing against his cheek, the warmth of your touch grounding him in the reality of this moment. "I'm here, Ken," you assure him, your voice a gentle melody that soothes his soul. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Days blur into nights, each passing moment weighted with the unbearable anticipation of Sukuna Ryomen. He sits vigil by the hospital bed, his presence a constant shadow in the sterile room. The machines continue their ceaseless symphony, but he hears only the echo of his own heart, pounding against the confines of his chest.

Then, like a whisper in the darkness, there is movement. A flutter of eyelids, a faint twitch of fingers. Sukuna's hand reaches out instinctively, trembling as it hovers over the figure lying before him.

"Hey," he whispers. "Can you hear me?"

And then, as if in response to his desperate plea, their eyes flutter open, the once vacant gaze now alive with recognition. A faint smile tugs at the corners of their lips, a beacon of hope in the sea of uncertainty.

"'Kuna..." they murmur, their voice fragile but filled with a strength that defies comprehension.

Relief floods through him like a tidal wave, washing away the shadows of doubt and fear. He grasps their hand tightly, as if afraid they might slip away again if he lets go.

"You're awake," he breathes, his voice trembling with emotion. "I thought I'd lost you."

But they shake their head, a faint chuckle escaping their lips. "You could never lose me," they whisper, their words a promise wrapped in a vow of eternity.

Four days pass like an eternity in the confines of the hospital room. Toji sits by the hospital bed, his presence a silent plea for his partner to return to him. Every moment feels like an eternity, each beat of their heart a victory against the looming specter of death.

Then, one morning, as the rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, a flutter of eyelids breaks the stillness. Toji's breath catches in his throat as he watches, disbelief warring with hope in his chest. Their eyelashes brush against their cheeks, a faint sign of life returning to their fragile form.

"Toji?" a voice, weak and hoarse, but unmistakably theirs, breaks the silence.

Tears of relief blur Toji's vision as he leans closer, his heart pounding in his chest. "Hey," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "You're awake."

A faint smile tugs at their lips, a flicker of recognition in their eyes. "What happened?" they ask, their voice barely more than a whisper.

Toji takes their hand in his, his grip tight with reassurance. "You were hurt," he explains, his voice trembling with the weight of the words. "But you're going to be okay now."

Their eyes search his face, finding solace in the depths of his gaze. "I'm sorry," they whisper, their voice laced with regret.

Toji shakes his head, brushing a strand of hair from their forehead. "Don't apologize," he says firmly. "Just focus on getting better."

The room is bathed in the soft glow of morning light, a welcome change from the harsh fluorescence of the hospital's overhead fixtures. Yuta sits in the same chair beside your bed, his eyes heavy with exhaustion but filled with a glimmer of hope. He hasn't left your side since that fateful day, his presence a silent vigil against the encroaching darkness.

As if in response to his unwavering devotion, your eyelids flutter open, revealing tired but unmistakably alive eyes. Yuta's heart leaps in his chest, relief flooding every fiber of his being.

"Hey," he breathes, his voice laced with equal parts disbelief and joy. "Hey there angel"

You blink, the haze of unconsciousness slowly dissipating as you take in your surroundings. Your gaze lands on Yuta, and a faint smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

"Yuta," you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm... I'm okay."

Tears well up in Yuta's eyes as he reaches out to grasp your hand, his fingers trembling with emotion.

"You scared me," he admits, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I thought... I thought I had lost you."

You squeeze his hand gently, a silent reassurance that you're still here, that you're not going anywhere. In that moment, surrounded by the beeping of machines and the scent of antiseptic, you both know that you've been given a second chance—a chance to heal, to love, and to cherish every moment together.

Only allowing himself to be dragged away to eat or wash, Megumi maintains his vigil by your bedside, his devotion unwavering even as exhaustion threatens to consume him. And then, like a faint glimmer of hope in the darkness, there's a subtle shift in the air. His hand still clasped in yours, he feels a faint pressure, a response so slight it could be mistaken for imagination.

His heart leaps in his chest as he lifts his head, his eyes searching your face for any sign of consciousness. And there it is, a flutter of eyelashes, a twitch of your lips. His breath catches in his throat, tears springing to his eyes as he watches you slowly awaken from the depths of unconsciousness.

"Hey," he whispers, his voice trembling with emotion. "Can you hear me?" His fingers tighten around yours, seeking reassurance in the warmth of your touch.

Your eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused at first before recognition dawns in them. A weak smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you squeeze his hand in return, a silent reassurance that you're still here, still fighting.

Relief floods through Megumi, overwhelming him as he leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours. "Thank god," he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. "I thought I'd lost you."

Several days pass, each one stretching out like an eternity for Yuji Itadori as he maintains his vigil by your side. But then, as the morning light filters through the curtains, a subtle change ripples through the stillness of the hospital room. A flutter of eyelashes, a faint twitch of fingers—signs so small, yet they stir Yuji from his restless sleep.

His eyes snap open, heart pounding wildly in his chest as he gazes at you, scarcely daring to believe what he's seeing. Your eyelids flutter, and then slowly, so achingly slowly, they lift, revealing eyes clouded with confusion and pain, but undeniably awake.

"Hey," Yuji's voice cracks with emotion, relief flooding through him like a tidal wave. "You're awake." His hand, which had never left yours, tightens its grip, as if anchoring you to this moment, this reality.

You blink slowly, trying to focus, to make sense of the world around you. The room feels foreign, the beeping of the monitors unfamiliar, but there's something undeniably comforting about Yuji's presence beside you.

With effort, you manage a faint smile, a glimmer of recognition in your eyes as you turn to meet his gaze. "Yuji," you whisper, your voice hoarse from disuse, but music to his ears.

Tears blur Yuji's vision as he leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his relief and joy overflowing. "I'm here," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm right here, and I'm never leaving your side again."

Days blur into nights, each moment weighted with uncertainty as Toge remains steadfast by his partner's side. Then, one hazy morning, a subtle change ripples through the stillness of the room. His partner stirs, eyelids fluttering open like delicate petals unfurling to the dawn.

Toge's heart leaps, a tumultuous mix of relief and apprehension flooding his senses. He watches with bated breath as their gaze flickers around the room, finally settling on him. For a moment, their eyes lock, and in that fleeting exchange, volumes of unspoken words pass between them.

Slowly, their lips part, and Toge's name escapes in a hoarse whisper, like a fragile melody breaking the silence. Tears well in his eyes, but this time, they're tears of joy, of hope rekindled from the brink of despair.

He leans closer, his hand reaching out to brush against their cheek, trembling with anticipation. And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he speaks the words he's longed to say, throwing all caution to the wind to speak to his partner.

"I'm here... I love you."

Their eyes glisten with recognition, with understanding, as if they too have been waiting for this moment. And in that instant, the weight that has burdened Toge's heart begins to lift, replaced by a newfound sense of hope, of renewal.

@mangiswig

I have spent all day cooking and I'm cooking good

[vanilkaray]

ANTI-TMNT

What are they? … Turtle or a killing machine created by alien creatures? … But after all, what is the real purpose that is hidden under that face?

They were experiments, the children raised by Shredder himself to carry out his intentions, who knew what other plans he was hatching... Meanwhile, Splinter and his daughter Miwa Hamato are on a fateful path that they did not know when they began their journey to reclaim the creature

——————————————

-Other character/information -

> Splinter

> Casey Jones

——————-

->Dream?

—————————————

TMNT: OPPOSITE

«Summary: Basically Oroku saki and Yoshi Hamato switch their role and the turtle is opposite from the original

- New desgin!!!

- Oroku Saki

-The story teller

-The Owner of The Battle Nexus

—————

-The Past

-The beginning

——————-

TMNT: Reborn from Dust

Summary: A clan that seemed to be extinct, will that clan be reborn from the dust?

-> Ask blog: https://www.tumblr.com/tmntrebornfromdust/763471899962556416/greetings-welcome-to-my-lair

—————-

Main cast

-> Hamato Michelangelo

-> Hamato Donatello

-> Oroku Hamato Raphael

-> Hamato Lenore

————

Timeline

Chapter 0: The beginning of it all

——————

-> Mutagen: https://www.tumblr.com/vanilkaray/763603380048461824/mutagen

-> Red

—————-

Comic:

-> #1: I feel disappointed about my self

[possiblylando]

Who's the ghoul? [HTP;4 SPOILERS!]

Alright so Hunter the Parenting Episode 4 has been out for a bit. If you haven't watched Hunter the Parenting and are just seeing this for whatever reason like coincidence or following me... WATCH IT! I assure you it's worth it it's all on Youtube its great come on don't get spoiled here. Seriously SPOILERS FOR BASICALLY EVERYTHING IN EPISODE 4

Alright hopefully everyone who hasn't watched it is out of here and now watching it. We can start by establishing the suspects.

Now for what I hope are obvious reasons we can rule out every member of the D family. Door and Boy aren't even here anyway. As such our current list of possible suspects is;

Upper Management Occam Blacklaw Sr. Gloria Waters Wernon

Security Brock Spit Giles

Cleaners Amanda Matilda Students Elise Grimal Harry

Now who else can we rule out for sure? 1. Occam can be ruled out. He's the chapter leader and if he was the ghoul for whatever reason the information would already be out. Plus Occam is already a mage or sorcerer of some sort so I doubt he'd get trapped into becoming a Ghoul. 2. Blacklaw Sr. can be ruled out. While he has keys to whole building we knew exactly where he was the entire time the crimes were being committed. Alright so then who can we rule out based on intuition? 1. Harry was with Markus for most of the time so it likely isn't him. 2. Elise, While Big D did interrogate her first I feel like he would've had some more suspicion if he genuinely believed her to be the ghoul. As such we can shorten the list to the following;

Upper Management Gloria Wernon

Security Brock Spit Giles

Cleaners Amanda Matilda Students Grimal Now we can look at where everyone was known to be while Occam was in the vault.

During this time the ones left unaccounted for are Elise, Big D, Wernon, Gloria, Grimal, Occam (duh), Spit, and the Cleaners. For obvious reasons we can ignore Elise and Big D as we've ruled them out as suspects. Now we can also rule out Giles and Brock from the list as during the time Occam was attacked they were both accounted for. HOWEVER I want to talk about brock for a moment. While I doubt Brock is the ghoul there is a moment near the end of the episode I want to bring attention to. While Markus and Co are saving Grimal from being tortured, D absolutely rocks Brock to the point he gets slammed into a wall. Yet Brock gets up with very little damage and continues to brawl. This is very interesting as Brock is apparently stronger than Blacklaw. This could be ghoul strength but I doubt it since Brock is a VERY big guy. Also about Giles, We know his boss at the 99p store is related to the vampires. Either she's a vampire or just a ghoul I'm not 100% sure. So Giles would have the connections to become a ghoul however having multiple ghouls working at the same 99p store seems like a waste of resources. So I doubt he's the ghoul. So now our suspect list is;

Upper Management Gloria Wernon

Security Spit

Cleaners Amanda Matilda Students Grimal Now that we've narrowed down the list of suspects I doubt that the either of the Cleaners end up being the ghoul as while both would be fairly easy to get in the building they lack any real clearance to get into the archives. As such they would be little strategical use outside of minor surveillance. Additionally they have no way to gain access to the Archives. Now ime to talk about that final scene. Wernon being killed at the end of the episode is very interesting as it acts in contradiction to what happened to Occam. Occam was just knocked out but Wernon was EVICERATED yet Wernon is a much lower priority target than Occam. Now I doubt Spit is the ghoul because again how would he have access to the Archives. However I do think Spit is the one who killed Wernon. Perhaps Spit is a Werewolf or other weird being as they were very specifically pointed out as killing machines in the episode where Big-D tells Kitten about some stuff. At the very beginning of the episode we can see the moon is full.

The lighting is a bit weird in these early scenes as outside is very red and orange but in other scenes we can see the moon and it's detailing a bit better so this is certainly the moon. As such the circumstances exist for Spit to turn into a Werewolf and flip the fuck out. Given the fact Spit is absolutely losing it I doubt he did it intentionally either. That answers the question of what happened to Wernon, what about the ghoul. Currently these are the possibilities as I see them; 1. Wernon was the ghoul. He had the means to get into the Archives and attack Occam. He's advancing in age so becoming a Ghoul might help with that slightly which would supply a motive. If he brought Spit off to deal with him, then spit flipping out in self defense would continue to track with him being a possible werewolf. 2. Grimel is the ghoul. Grimel was acting a bit weird the entire episode and during the start when the ghoul was announced she looked very uncomfortable. Additionally she's spent a majority of the episode away from the rest of the group and was missing while Occam was attacked. When she was being "interrogated" by blacklaw she doesn't actually say she isn't the ghoul she changes the subject. However this again could be coincidence as she saw Amanda get fried. Additionally there is the issue of her not having access to the archives. 3. Gloria is the ghoul. This one I think is the least likely. The only real evidence for this is that she was willing to so quickly take control of the situation when Occam was passed out. Currently the odds as I see them are Wernon; 40% Grimel; 30% Gloria; 10% Anyone else; 20% However if it is Wernon that raises the question, What will the rest of this arc be about? If the ghoul is dead then the rest of the arc would have to be about sorting shit out and kinda loosing it at eachother. But again that seems weird right? Killing the culprit off? So I guess my final guess is; Grimal (MAYBE Wernon) is the ghoul Spit is a werewolf (or similar creature) Matilda is going to be important somehow

[magiccath]

5 times the Doctor loved you, and one time he actually did something about it

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: as it says on the tin!

1.

The Doctor slammed the door behind you, the booming footsteps of the Cybermen closing in. 

“What’s the plan?” You asked, slightly breathless from running. 

The Doctor didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have a plan. He couldn’t think of a single way out of this situation. 

He had told you traveling with him was dangerous, but you always insisted on coming. The only thing he could do was promise to keep you safe. To keep you alive, no matter the cost. 

As the footsteps neared, he began to fear he couldn’t keep his promise. 

“Doctor?”

He hoped his eyes didn’t show the panic he was feeling inside. 

“Do we have a plan?”

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. A small part of him hoped it might shut everything out. 

The Cybermen neared your hideout, their metal fists banging on the wooden doors. Between the thick wood and the metal lock, the two of you had minutes at best. 

“The Cybermen are all connected through a network, correct?”

The Doctor opened his eyes, looking at you in confusion. 

“And if I can get into that network…” you scanned the room quickly, your eyes instantly settling on a computer. 

“It’ll be practically impossible,” the Doctor argued.

“They could have it under lock and key, and there would still be a way to break into it.” You smiled. “You just have to know what you’re doing.”

The Doctor watched in awe as your fingers danced across the keyboard, typing endless strings of characters that he couldn’t understand. 

“See, I already hacked into the database,” you leaned closer to the computer, absentmindedly chewing on your bottom lip. The Doctor tried not to let his eyes linger on your lips too much. 

“I just need to hack into the executive level.” You turned to look at the Doctor. 

He couldn’t think what you would need him for. You knew how computers worked, he didn’t really. 

Silently, you held out your hand. 

Confused, the Doctor took it. He wasn’t complaining. Your hands were soft and warm. He’d make any excuse to hold them. 

You laughed, the sound like music to his ears.

“No, silly.”

The Doctor blushed, but he didn’t remove his hand from yours. 

“I need the sonic,” you explained. 

Embarrassed, he slid the object into your hands. 

You handled the sonic with expertise. The Doctor didn’t think you had been listening all of those times he rambled on about the machine. 

Sure enough, you flicked to the correct settings in a matter of seconds. Using it appeared to be second nature to you. 

“Done!” You clapped your hands excitedly. Sure enough, the commotion outside the door halted, silence settling between the two of you. 

The Doctor’s eyes darted between the door and you, trying to process what had just happened. 

Once he did, he wasted no time scooping you into his arms. 

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck happily. 

The Doctor was practically buzzing with joy. He swung you gently from side to side as he hugged you, your feet dangling from the ground.

He didn’t want to let you go. 

“Brilliant!” He grinned, “You’re brilliant!” 

He pulled back slightly, planting a firm kiss on your forehead. 

In the end, you didn’t need him to save you. You could more than do that yourself. 

2. 

The Doctor was plagued with thoughts. Endless, troublesome thoughts swirled about his head. 

Almost nothing was certain. Except for one truth the Doctor held close to his heart. At the end of the day, it was just him. 

The last of the Time Lords. Floating through time and space, alone. 

Always alone. 

In his head, it was only a matter of time before you left. No one ever really stayed. Be it sickness, life, love, or fear, his companions always left him. 

He raked his hands across his face, hoping the action could silence the incessant chatter in his head. 

Truthfully, he didn’t have the strength to fight it off today. Why even bother? 

You bounded into the control room, a smile plastered across your face. You had a way of bringing light into any room. Most days, it was impossible for the Doctor to be upset in your presence. Today it was just too much for the alien to handle on his own. 

He tried to hide his hurt, plastering a sad smile on his own face. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, catching on instantly. 

“I’m fine,” he lied. 

You frowned, not falling for his lie. 

His hands clutched the console, his knuckles white from the force. Gently, you ghosted your fingers across his hand. Convinced he wasn’t going to run away, you placed your hands over his. Almost instantly they eased up, suddenly aware of the force in which he was clutching the console. 

“What’s going on up there?” you asked, your gentle hands moving to cup his face. You gave his head a light wiggle, the action causing the corners of the Doctor’s mouth to curve upwards. 

“How long are you going to stay with me?” He whispered, almost too scared to say the words aloud. 

You furrowed your brows, not out of anger, but rather confusion. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” You smiled, your thumbs rubbing circles against his cheeks softly. 

The Doctor didn’t really believe you. They never wanted to leave, until they did. Perhaps you were happy at the moment, but that wasn’t going to last. 

He forced himself to pull away from your grip. The sooner he let you go, the less it was going to hurt. At least, that’s what he told himself. 

“Doctor?” 

You grabbed the sleeve of his coat, tugging lightly. The Doctor closed his eyes, trying to demonstrate some level of self-restraint. You weren’t making it easy. 

Without warning, you wrapped your arms firmly around the man. Your grip was unwavering, your hands clutching at his clothes desperately. 

The Doctor was taken aback at first, unsure what to do. Eventually, he relaxed into the hug. Giving in, he allowed his arms to wrap around you, pulling you closer to him. If he had it his way, he would stay like this forever. 

“I don’t ever want to leave,” you gasped, your breath hot against his neck. You buried your face in his shoulder, attempting to get as close as possible. 

For a second, the Doctor allowed himself to think that you might feel even a fraction of the way he felt about you. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you beamed, pulling back to look at the Doctor. 

Your eyes were mesmerizing up close. Their color glistened in the TARDIS light, and he found it impossible to look away. 

“You can’t get rid of me that easy, Spaceman,” you laughed. 

3.

“The name’s Captain Jack Harkness,” The dashing man in front of you smiled, holding out his hand confidently. 

You took it warily, exchanging your own name awkwardly. You didn’t exactly share the Captain’s confidence. His smile clearly had you flabbergasted, a scarlet flush creeping onto your cheeks.

He flashed you an overly cocky grin, his hold on your hand unwavering. 

“Stop it,” the Doctor growled from behind you. 

“I’m just saying hello,” Jack said innocently, practically batting his eyelashes.

“It’s never just hello with you,” the Doctor continued groaning. He was used to Jack’s antics, the man flirted with anything that moved. He usually had no issue with it. That was, until the flirting was directed at you. 

“I don’t mind,” you grinned, looking up at the Captain sheepishly. You seemed to get lost in his eyes. From the Doctor’s point of view, you practically had heart eyes bursting from your head. 

Jack smiled back, charming as ever. His eyes traveled across your face, taking in each and every feature. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered. 

You let out a nervous giggle, clearly taken aback by the compliment. Had the Doctor never called you that before? He was almost certain he had. You had never reacted that way when he did.

“T-thank you,” you stammered. It was clear to just about anyone that you were interested in the Captain. Between the way you looked at him and the bright red of your face, you were practically screaming it. 

It drove the Doctor crazy. He couldn’t express how badly he wanted you to look at him like that. Yet here you were, ogling over none other than Captain Jack Harkness. 

“Do you want to grab coffee?” Jack asked, his words pulling the Doctor from his thoughts. 

The Doctor had to suppress a scoff. Of course, the captain was asking you out at a time like this. The world could be crumbling and he would shag the nearest complying individual. 

The Doctor didn’t want to think about you and Jack together. In fact, he didn’t like to think about you with anyone but him. Maybe it was selfish, but a small part of him wanted you all to himself. 

He didn’t stick around to hear your answer. It would only break his heart more to hear you say yes. 

Unfortunately, the Doctor didn’t know that you never said yes to the Captain. If he had stuck around, he would have found that out. 

4. 

Rage. 

That was the only thing coursing through the Doctor’s mind as he pointed the gun at the woman in front of him. Pure, unbridled rage. 

His hands shook as he cocked the gun, fully preparing himself to pull the trigger. He could do it. He had every means to take the woman’s life. 

“Doctor?” 

He didn’t need to move his gaze to know you were by his side. He could feel the gentle pull of your fingers on his coat. 

“Go back to the TARDIS,” he growled. 

“Doctor,” you repeated, hurt riddling your voice. 

He couldn’t bring himself to lower the gun, but at the same time, he couldn’t fire it either. 

The woman before him was an awful person. She had killed hundreds and didn't even feel a shred of remorse. Even further, he had killed your friend. He should kill her. You should want him to. But you didn't. 

“Doctor.” Your hand crept towards his. 

He shook his head. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry. But instead, he just stood there. 

“She doesn't deserve this,” you pleaded, your hand closing around his own. 

“Yes she does,” he said, shakily. He wasn’t sure if he fully believed himself. 

“If you kill her, are you any better than her?” You asked, guiding the hand holding the gun away from the woman. 

The Doctor didn’t stop you, but he didn’t agree either. His eyes remained trained on the woman at his feet. 

You eased the gun from his hand and disarmed it before throwing it across the room. 

You took his face in your hands gently, pulling his gaze towards you. 

“You are better than this,” you reminded him. 

The Doctor was fighting back tears. It was all he could do to shake his head no. 

“Yes, you are,” you reiterated, resting your forehead against his. 

5. 

The TARDIS was cold. Realistically, it was the Doctor’s fault for breaking the heater. In his defense, he didn’t intend to. 

It wasn’t an issue for the Time Lord, temperature wasn’t really an issue for him. He could wear a suit in the desert or shorts in the winter, it didn’t really matter. 

You, however, were obviously cold. 

“Are you going to fix the heating?” you asked, clutching your arms for warmth. 

It wasn’t that he wanted you to suffer. Quite the contrary. He couldn’t figure out how to fix the heater. He just didn’t want to admit it. 

“If you go up the stairs and to the left, you’ll find yourself in the TARDIS closet,” he explained. 

“I hardly think an 18th-century dress that smells of mothballs is going to fix the heating.” 

The Doctor chuckled. 

“No, but there are sweaters and other normal clothes in there.”

While you went searching for something warm, the Doctor continued his banging under the TARDIS console. It shouldn’t be this hard to figure out. 

He sat cross-legged on the floor, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He ducked his head downwards so he could read the book that lay open on the floor. 

“How to fix your spaceship at home!” wasn’t much help at the moment. He slammed the book shut and resumed his pointless banging. He was probably doing more harm than good, but he figured if he hit enough stuff the ship would fix itself. 

The TARDIS groaned in protest. 

“I think this will work,” you interrupted, walking back into the control room. 

You were rolling the sleeves of a green sweater up so you could use your hands. 

His green sweater. 

“It doesn’t smell like mothballs!” You jested. 

The Doctor turned his gaze away from you, hoping you wouldn’t notice the bright red color creeping into his cheeks. 

“It actually smells a bit like leather and sweets,” you continued, smelling the sleeve.

“That used to be mine.” 

“Yours?” You asked, almost as if you were shocked. 

“Well, it didn’t belong to this face,” he shrugged. 

“But it was yours.” 

“Yeah.” The red was taking over his face now. There was no way you hadn’t noticed. 

“You can have it back,” you said, interpreting his silence for displeasure. 

“No! I don’t wear stuff like that anymore. You can have it,” he rambled, scratching the back of his head anxiously. He wanted to say so many other things. How you looked infinitely better in it than he ever did and how happy it made him to see you in his sweater. 

“Thank you!” you grinned before bounding back down the hallway. 

The Doctor smiled to himself. He’d completely forgotten about the heating. All he could think about was how much he liked you in his clothes. 

The one time he did something about it.

You threw the doors of the TARDIS open, rushing into the open field. 

“It’s beautiful!” You laughed as you danced through the tall sapphire grass. You stopped to examine every strange and new plant littered throughout the meadow, encountering each with a new kind of enthusiasm.

The biome in front of him could be the most magnificent thing ever, and he would still be looking at you. Especially when you were this happy. 

You bounced around the meadow, picking up flowers you liked as the Doctor followed behind you. 

You rambled on about your day happily as you moved about. You were more than content to just be in the Doctor’s company without an imminent threat looming over you. 

He stopped your ramblings suddenly with an utterance of your name. 

“Yes?” You asked, wide-eyed. 

“I love you,” he whispered. He couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Wide-eyed, you blinked at him. 

“Please say something,” he said, pained.

You remained silent, still processing the Time Lord’s words. 

The Doctor began to panic. Thoughts tumbled about his head, doubt seeping into his mind. 

Then, without warning, you dropped your flowers and threw yourself into the Doctor’s arms. 

He fell over from the force, landing in the cushion of the plush foliage. 

“I’m sorry,” you laughed, a grin taking over your face. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

The Doctor brushed a stay strand of hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear. Color flushed into your cheeks from the simple action.

His eyes darted between your eyes and your mouth, silently asking permission to kiss him. You nodded your head lightly, inviting him to do so. 

Slowly, he brought his lips to yours. You smiled against his kiss, relishing in the warmth. 

When he pulled away, you pulled him back. Plastering a series of kisses against his mouth, you demanded his attention. 

This made the Doctor laugh, his arms snaking comfortably around your waist, truly securing you against himself. 

You drifted from his lips to his cheek, planting one final kiss there. 

“You love me!” you laughed, poking him playfully. 

“I do,” He laughed, resting his hand against your cheek.  You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes in tranquility. 

“I love you too,” you whispered against his palm, your breath warm on his hand. 

Truthfully, that was all the Doctor could have ever asked for.

[depression-napping]

Topics of Vincent

(Your resident translator was on a plane and had plenty of time to do some work so here we go with the second page of his profile ❤️)

This is long so content is under the cut

1) 身体に秘めたる魔獣の因子

The factor of the magical beasts hidden in his body

ヴィンセントはその体内に魔獣の因子を宿しており、ガリアンビーストに変身する能力を持つ。変身後は、俊敏さと力強さを兼ね備えた、文字どおり人間離れした動きが可能となる一方で、理性を失って暴走するため、肉体にはかなりの負荷がかかってしまう模様。ヴィンセントが睡眠に多くの時間を割くのは、特殊な体質のせいなのかもしれない。

Because of the factor that Vincent houses magical beasts within his body, he has the ability to transform into Galian Beast. After transforming, he gains the ability to move with both speed and strength that is literally superhuman. At the same time, his rational mind gives way to wild rampaging, and it seems to take quite a toll on his body. The fact that Vincent spares a lot of time sleeping may be due to the peculiar nature of his physical make-up.

2) 新しめの機械には弱い？

Is he bad with new technology?

ヴィンセントは、電源が入っていないカードリーダーを故障していると思い込み、起動させられずに四苦八苦*するなど、機械のあつかいには不慣れな様子を見せる。とはいえ、機械全般にわけではなく、タイニーブロンコに搭載された旧式の無線機は難なく使いこなしており、どちらかといえば古めの機械のほうがなじみがあるようだ。

Vincent has the mistaken impression that the card reader doesn’t work as it’s lacking a power source, and the device not activating seems to cause him all manner of distress*. [Please see the footnote this phrase is amazing] It seems he is inexperienced with handling such devices. Even so, it doesn’t mean he is generally bad with all technology per se, as he was able to easily handle the wireless radio on the Tiny Bronco. That is to say, he seems to be more familiar with older machines.

(*I just want to talk about this phrase 四苦八苦. It almost sent me into hysterics. It’s pronounced “shikuhakku” and it means great distress, but literally translates to “four and eight kinds of suffering.” It’s another idiomatic expression with Buddhist roots that refers to “birth, old age, disease, death, parting from loved ones, meeting disliked ones, not getting what one seeks,” and so on. Basically a summary of his life so far, minus the old age. But the fact that they used this term specifically to talk about his distress at newfangled technology just sent me. Literally you can read this as “modern technology causes him four and eight kinds of suffering.” Like the rest of what he’s gone through isn’t 四苦八苦? But the card reader not working is. I’m dead ya’ll. Like. Vincent needs this on a shirt. I need this on a shirt.)

3) Original VII Playback (Vincent Summary)

仲間に加えるかどうかを任意で選べるキャラクターながら、セフィロスや宝条と深い因縁があり、物語の背景を知るうえでは重要な役どころだった。関連作品のひとつ「Dirge of Cerberus -FFVII-」では主人公を務める。

The player can choose whether to befriend Vincent as he is an optional character. Since he has a deep connection to Sephiroth and Hojo, viewed in the context of the game’s background story, the role he plays is essential. He takes on the role of the main character in the related game, Dirge of Cerberus.

「フ… 悪夢にうなされる長き眠りこそ

私に与えられたつぐないの時間」

“Hmph… my long, nightmare-laden sleep has given me time to atone…”

(Picture captions)

追い詰められると、咆哮とともに赤黒いオーラをまとい、凶暴性さらに増す。

When pushed to the wall, with a loud roar, clad in a dark red aura, his savage nature increases further.

壊れた思ったものを叩いたり振ったりして直そうとするあたりは、どことなく前世代的。

When he tries to fix something he thought was broken by hitting and shaking it, somehow it seems like he’s from another generation.

[bachiras-toaster]

arcade date with chigiri?! pls i love him so much HSJSJ maybe the rest of the bllk boys even catch him at the arcade and tease him ????

arcade games and cat plushies : ̗̀➛

HYOUMA CHIGIRI x reader

wc. 3.1k

content. literally just tooth rotting fluff :3

Because of Blue Lock, you and your boyfriend weren’t able to hang out as often as you could before. Which is why on the days that he was actually allowed a to leave, he would always visit you and take you on dates. Today was the same, and this time, he brought you to an arcade.

You and Chigiri had been circling the arcade for perhaps an hour or two now, yet it didn’t seem that either of your energies were beginning to quell. In fact, it seemed that the longer that the two of you remained in each other’s presence, the richer your hearts became; this fact grew more obvious when you even began repeating machines and games, returning to certain areas maybe two or three times.

The both of your pockets were overflowing with tickets, to the point where you had even began to drape the large streams of winnings you had across your shoulders like a scarf. As for Chigiri, he would scrunch the papers up and just carry them around like a ball, only dropping them to his feet when he needed to use his hands in a game. The two of you had stayed in the arcade much longer than anyone else had, so it was no wonder why the both of you had accumulated the most successes.

Soon, the both of you reached the air-hockey board once more, and he dashed around to slot another coin into the game.

“Ready for another rematch?” Chigiri grinned widely, reaching for one of the mallets.

“Oh, you’re on.” A wide smile of determination crew on your face as you watched him drop his tickets to the floor and even begin gathering his hair to tie it back. “We’re getting serious now, are we?” You giggled as he pulled a hair tie from his wrist to wrap it around a clump of his hair.

Chigiri smirked, before he then took hold of the mallet once more. “You know I always get serious,” he said, not even missing a beat as he was already smacking the puck at the other end of the board, his eyes intently following his move throughout the entire duration. “Don’t be surprised if you lose again.” He said with a confident snicker.

“You better put a cap on that confidence, because I’m making my comeback!” You cackled, whacking the puck back to his side of the table. “I hope the king’s been practising his kneeling, because I’ve got this one set.”

“Oh is that so…” Chigiri responded with nothing of his usual snicker, instead taking a more calm approach to this match, as if his confidence was at stake from the threat your words were currently attempting to impose upon his. He then began to make several quick passes back and forth, as his eyes remained trained upon the puck the entire time. “I’m looking forward to witnessing your ego crumble, you know.” He responded with a smile.

“Well, sorry to disappoint, but this game is mine!” You announced proudly, sending back the puck that he hit towards you with all of your strength, watching as the flat cylinder was making a line straight to his goal. Your eyes widened with anticipation as it neared the entrance, your irises gleaming with premature excitement.

You were sure you would have screamed your own victory if it hadn’t been for Chigiri intercepting your connection with winning and returning the puck to you. You had been so keen on your brush with the trophy that you hadn’t even considered him hitting it back. So when it was back in your court, you were caught completely off-guard when it ricocheted off the wall and landed in your goal.

“Damn it!” You yelled out

He snickered, his grin widening as he then brought the mallet back with a firm grip on the handle as he returned the puck back to your side of the board.

“Oh, so cocky,” Chigiri spoke, seeming to have thoroughly enjoyed the exchange. However, despite the teasing remark, his tone stayed calm, not even having a hint of hostility or teasing in it. “Seems like your efforts are futile.” he asked, as though expecting a challenge, or some new comeback from you.

“It was a lucky shot.” You told him sourly as you picked the puck back up and threw it against the table to prepare for a second round. “Watch now, I’m locking in and you’re not gonna score any more goals! Your football tactics won’t work here!”

And well, they didn’t, but he won nevertheless, and you watched with shattered disappointment as more tickets began spewing from the slots of the machine, indicating his landslide victory.

“You know, every game has its own little rule set,” Chigiri said, his tone holding a slight sense of satisfaction, although it wasn’t exactly gloating- more so just a friendly jab. As the tickets began to slowly pour out from the machine, Chigiri took notice- his eyes widening as he stared at the steady stream in shock once more. “Wow.” he muttered.

Your eyes remained on him with a wide smile as he began to gather up all of the tickets that he had accumulated into his arms once more. It was irritating that he seemed to be so good at every game in the arcade that the two of you went on, but it didn’t particularly matter at the end of the day as all you knew was that you were having fun. Chigiri saw in your eyes how simply content you were to be in his presence, despite him dominating every single machine, but the fact was that every single one of his tickets was going to be spent on you anyway.

“You ready to exchange our tickets now?” You grinned as he finally picked up the paper hall.

“Of course.” Chigiri responded, although with another smirk on his face as he stared at you, seemingly to have caught on to the fact that the entire time, the way that your eyes had remained trained on him was to no doubt simply that you were satisfied.

When the two of you had put all of your tickets into the exchange machine and were left with the card that displayed your shared winning counter, Chigiri handed the card solely for you to take as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder to pull you into a cute hug while you walked to the desk. You stared down at rhe slip of paper rhat held both of your victories with a wide smile, your thumb tracing over the text lightly.

“What do you plan on spending the tickets on?” He asked.

“I don’t know… We could get anything here!” You told him as you peered at the selection of prizes, the open range of what was available to the two of you being a reminder of how long the two of you hand spent in the arcade.

“Well…” he thought for a moment, staring at the vast array of items as well, before his mind instantly went to the only things that mattered to him in this moment. “How about we get plushies?” He suggested, pointing towards the arsenal of stuffed toys on the shelf. He figured that if anything, you’d find the idea adorable.

“Oh my god, yes!” Your eyes lit up with excitement as you desperately clutched his arm to gesture towards a particular pair that had caught your eye.

“Let’s get those two! The two cat ones!” You squealed, drawing your attentions directly to two plushies that were leaning against each other on the display. Your mind couldn’t help but buzz about how those plushies reminded you of the two of you, and your heart fluttered with the idea of actually getting your hands on the fuzzy cuties.

Chigiri had no qualms with the suggestions, instead following your excited gestures towards the two plushies. “The cats, right?” he turned back for reassurance before approaching the desk, and when you nodded, he made his request to the person by the register.

Once the stuffed animals were taken off display, Chigiri used up the rest of his remaining points to spend it on candy that the two of you could share. He loaded his pockets with lollipops and liquorish before reaching for the plushies, carrying them in his arms back to you as though they were real cats.

Your arms were already out to joyfully take the one cat that you knew was going to be yours, and you squeezed it with all of your might once he handed it to you. Your cheek pressed against the warm fluff of the fuzzy toy, and you cradled the cat like it was your firstborn child.

“So cute.” He whispered when he saw the glow of your smile; he couldn't help but grin as well.

“I love them! They’re so adorable!” You quipped, holding your cat up beside his so you could lay your gazes on the commemoration of this memory.

“Right?” Chigiri agreed, leaning in towards you with his own cat in hand and then moving both toys closer together so that their faces would be side-by-side, their little arms reaching so that they almost looked as if they were trying to touch the other.

He seemed to enjoy the look of having both plushies side-by-side so that they looked like they were cuddling. The two toy cats were left standing beside one another, their tails interlocked as though they were performing the act of holding hands themselves. Chigiri’s eyes remained locked with yours while a smile spread across his face, although he wasn’t sure if it was from finding the cats adorable or from simply staring into your eyes.

“What are you gonna name yours?” He then asked, the corners of his mouth curving up slightly as he leaned against you once more.

“Hm… Akane is very fitting. So whenever I see it, I think of you.” You grinned, holding the cat up to his face.

Although the cat wasn’t actually a deep red like the name suggested, you wanted a title that reflected the nickname given to your boyfriend on the field. The world knew him as ‘the red panther’, so your plushie would mirror just that. It brought him joy thinking about how the plushie had actually been given a name that matched his football title, although he wondered if that would ever cause the toy to be mistaken for him by passer-bys.

"Akane. That's a cute name," Chigiri smiled, looking down at the plushie as you held it up as if it was in fact a cat and not a lifeless toy. “So, what's my cat's name then?" He asked, his voice holding a playful hint as he wondered what name you had chosen to give his plushie.

“It’s yours, you have to choose a name!” You told him sternly, lowering your plushie again to hug it.

“Uh…” Chigiri pondered for a moment, glancing down at the cat toy as he tried to find a suitable enough name. He really did want the name to match his presence or resemble it in some way, as he felt as though this little gesture would be something that he would truly enjoy. “Hm…” Chigiri thought about it, taking a quick glance down at the cat as he shifted his position so that he could wrap his free arm around your shoulders.

“What if I called mine (Y/n) … Would you be offended?” He asked with a smirk.

Your entire face heated up with blush when his arm slinked around your shoulders to hug you, pressing your plushies together with a grin.

“Only if you don’t replace me with that cat.” You commented teasingly.

Chigiri smirked, the side of his head pressing against your own. "No promises." he joked.

The two toy cats remained pressed against one another, the pair of them as if they were a set that had been purchased together.

"I suppose I'll have to take the real version of you over a plushie," he muttered after staring at the prize long enough, his words seeming to carry more than just the playful teasing of earlier, “you’re a lot cuter." He added, his words bringing about a teasing tone once more, but his grip around you was still strong and his cheek still pressed against you.

“So cheesy…” You giggled.

"I may be cheesy, but at least I know I’m a lot more tastier than the alternatives." Chigiri playfully responded, still keeping the joking tone in his voice before adding on another cheeky remark. "Plus, I’m pretty sure plushies don’t cuddle back."

“Well, when you take this plushie back to Blue Lock, you can hug it when you sleep as if I’m there.” You teased.

"Yeah? Will the plushie also complain to me about its back pain? Will it also take up the majority of the bed during nights and leave little space for me?" Chigiri asked, jokingly listing off some of the things you would do when you slept, things that he was already quite used to anyways. "And will the plushie make me have to go to sleep early as well?" He asked just before cracking a grin.

Your jaw dropped before you let out a giggle. “Well, maybe your plushie is just concerned about you getting a full night’s rest before a game!”

"Or, maybe the plushie is just trying to deprive me from the joys of life by trying to force me to take more than six hours of sleep before every match, hmm?" Chigiri suggested, seeming to enjoy this back-and-forth of teasing, although he knew that it was his way of flirting with you.

“Well maybe you could do with a little extra hours of sleep!”

Chigiri rolled his eyes in jest of the comment, making a face as if he was offended as he then leaned his head against yours once more. “And what do you know about sleep?” He asked, the playful, teasing tone clearly prominent in his voice.

“Well, I’ve slept with you a couple of times, so I would say I’m pretty skilled.” You grinned at the suggestive comment. He couldn’t help but snicker as you had made that response, although it took him a few seconds to compose himself as he seemed to be taken aback by the flirty nature of your words. Even though you had slept together several times already, he still was never able to get used to hearing you make such remarks that were clearly intended to embarrass him.

"Well, you do have a point," Chigiri responded after letting out a final breath from his laughs, returning the suggestive comment with one of his own. "Are you implying I keep you awake too often?"

“Not enough.” You shrugged with a smirk.

Chigiri's grin widened as he then leaned in closer to you as though to whisper in your ear, "Is that a challenge then?" he asked, the teasing tone still prevalent in his voice as he tried to match the same nature of the moment, as though he was trying to see just what would happen if it was taken further. “(Y/n)?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you talking to me or the plushie?” You replied, shattering the dark and flirtatious turn that the conversation had taken to return to the friendly teasing, a choice which was received with a chuckle.

"I think I'm speaking to the real (Y/n) and not the toy," he then responded with his own joking comment, his tone remaining playful, but with just the slightest amount of flirtatiousness in it. "Unless... Are you saying you're no different than the plushie?"

“I’m totally different! That plushie can’t give you forehead kisses.”

"That's true, only the real you can do that," Chigiri responded confidently, reaching up to brush back your hair away from your face before tilting his lips closer to your head. "May I?" he asked, leaning only an inch or so away from your forehead.

“You may.” You smiled brightly at your boyfriend, your heart fluttering with compassion.

With your permission, Chigiri planted a soft peck onto your forehead before looking down at you again with so much love in his eyes you could swear he was looking at his world. The distance between the two of you had closed so much that your plushies were pressed between your stomachs as you continued to smile at one another, the atmosphere of each other’s presence filling you with so much desire.

However, right before your boyfriend was able to lean down to kiss your lips instead after staring at you for so long, you two were suddenly interrupted by the sound of excited buzzing as you were approached by a duo that you did not personally recognise.

“Chigiri?!” A voice called out, and your attention was diverted towards a man with black hair and large blue eyes that led the crowd of friends.

“Is this the titular girlfriend you speak so much about?” Another man of the same height appeared behind the one who had previously spoken, this time having a bob cut with a bleached underside.

You watched as the pair approached your boyfriend with wide smiles, eager to find their best friend with what seemed to be his partner.

“What are you guys doing here—?” Chigiri’s eyes widened, holding your hand with one palm as he cradled his plushie with the other, involuntarily shifting you to hide behind him— as if the other two hadn’t already seen you.

“We were also let out of Blue Lock, you know! You think we wouldn’t wonder where you were?” Isagi exclaimed. “We wanted to hang out!”

“Why haven’t you ever introduced us to your girlfriend before?” Bachira swiftly found himself peeping behind Chigiri’s hip to stare at you, giving you a wide and cheese smile— Which you awkwardly reciprocated. “She’s very pretty!”

“You guys…” Chigiri’s entire face had been painted with blush, still keeping you behind him.

You couldn’t help but smile sweetly at the gesture, watching as your boyfriend’s flushed face attempted to hide his flustered embarrassment. So he had been too nervous to tell his teammates about you, huh?

“Don’t just stand there nervously, Hyouma!” You giggled, shifting from behind him to present yourself in a more friendly manner to both Bachira and Isagi. “Introduce me to your friends!”