#i'm desperate for official news either way...

[cru5h-cascades]

Save me Jet Set Radio 3... SAVE ME...

[yuanology]

I imagine spanking Satoru in my lap while whispering lewd things about him being a pervert while the only thing he can do is sob and bite my shoulder ,bby is so lost in pleasure he wishes to end up as satisfied as his best friend who is laying asleep in front of him but bby is so new he is ashamed of asking so force him into telling what he wants and then like …corruption kink akksnwkaoaoao😋🐸 idkkkk 🫨

hey ...... i'm sorry in advance for this one. i don't fucking know what this is either. also, this ended up being an entirely separate thing from the original satosugu fic & this is just........ afab!satoru getting his cunt slapped raw while suguru—who's implied to have been fucked by reader earlier—is passed the fuck out. &. i ended up writing this as a teacher!suguru au a.k.a everything goes well au so yeah, don't get confused

despite common first impression, twenty-eight years old gojo "the strongest" satoru had never been touched by anyone before. yes, you heard that right. he was still a virgin; pure and untouched.

before he came to jujutsu tech—before he left home, before he found out about the world, before he realised that he was practically a damn princess stuck in his tower—satoru hadn't even thought of the art of carnal pleasure. he had thought it was just something that happened, not something to indulge himself in.

growing up amongst people his age had been an awakening, that was for certain. his hands started wrapping around himself more often, the collar of his shirt caught between his teeth as he stifled the noise escaping his throat. porn became a commodity, and satoru wasn't exactly oblivious to it, he just never had the time or opportunity to try it.

until you.

satoru let loose another sob, tears streaking down his face. his teeth was caught around the meat of your shoulder, and he could barely breathe around it, much less speak coherently. he still whimpered, "too much."

"you wanted this," you reminded him, your voice low and dirty and so, so fucking real that it's driving him insane. nothing—nothing, no lewd images or videos or even his own imagination—could compare to the feeling of you right now. "you asked me for this, baby."

and you were right. he had asked for this, craving your closeness just as much as he craved the feeling of your hands on him. he had asked you for this, physically and audibly begged you to give him a taste of the things that he had seen and watched all these years.

finally, satoru had thought to himself when he met you properly for the first time. finally, someone who can understand. who can finally give me what i need. it hadn't taken much time before he was on his knees, begging for you to give him everything and so much more. men like gojo satoru didn't make a habit out of begging, but you were an exception amongst many others.

your only response had been a raised, unimpressed eyebrow before you told him that you would consider it. he didn't blame you for it. it wasn't as if your relationship with his own best friend, suguru, was a secret, even if it wasn't official. but satoru had to try.

(and he had asked suguru about it already, kicking at the floorboard underneath him with an out-of-character show of shyness, until suguru had laughed at him, clapped him on the shoulder, and said, "yeah, sure. what's mine is yours and all that—if you can get him to agree, that is." so.)

but when he had asked you to show him what it meant to feel good hurt during sex, he had never expected you to do this to him—to be so mean and so fucking rough, to be so, so desperately cruel to him in ways that he had never seen you do to anyone else.

fuck, satoru thought dazedly. the position—his body bent over your lap, his ass high in the air and his cunt flushes, twitching, and so fucking exposed—had him distinctly dizzy, his head dropping at an awkward angle on the mattress but he didn't care.

he blinked away the tears in his eyes, but the slumped figure of his best friend's body passed out a behind you on the bed remained blurry. how the fuck do you handle this? he wondered.

he let out another whimper when your hand met the meat of his ass, and he could feel it fucking jiggle. he found it so humiliating, but you must think otherwise because you groped his asscheek with an air of smugness. you pried his ass apart, making him grimace when he felt his slick slide down his thigh, betraying him.

"look at you, baby," you cooed, chuckling to yourself. "you're fucking dripping all over the place. you're so desperate for it, huh? pretty virgin like you probably doesn't even know what it's like to be touched like this."

your voice was a light musing, distinctly distant and almost detached in your amusement, but satoru couldn't help but feel raw all over; an exposed nerve ready to be flayed over an open fire. he was sensitive, each inch of his skin a weakness that leaves him feel vulnerable.

"hurts," satoru croaked out miserably, feeling a bit like a fool for saying it. his words are garbled, slurred—almost watery in a way satoru hadn't known was possible before.

"hm." your hand left his hand, making a whine escape the back of satoru's throat. his voice returned to something subdued, something calmer, when he realised that you're simply moving to rest your hand on the small of his back.

"i suppose i can give you mercy," you said, your voice a low drawl that sent goosebumps racing along his skin. "just this once."

satoru couldn't help the whimper that escaped him. even through the heavy haze in his mind, he knew that he couldn't have this without a price. you always demanded an equal pay be returned for the price of your kindness. he had watched you wring dry orgasm after orgasm out of suguru, even when his best friend's body was limp, practically motionless save for the overstimulated twitches and the sobs that escaped suguru's throat, all in exchange for having satoru there with them tonight.

you must notice the sudden shift in his attitude, the way his ass was wriggling in the air almost desperately, because you snickered and your hand pressed him down harder against your lap. fuck, he thinks, feeling himself dripping all over the place at the feeling of you.

"how about this," you offered. "five more spankings, and i want you to count. if you miss one, we'll start over." your hand caressed the swell of his ass, your movements gentle as you soothed the spank marks you had left there earlier.

as much as satoru knew he shouldn't believe you, he still couldn't help the way he sniffled at the feeling and asked, "promise?"

you chuckled, the sound soft. your lips met the skin on his back, right over his spine. "sure, baby," you said. "i promise. just five more, okay? you'll be a good boy, won't you, satoru? you'll stay still for me?"

satoru nodded eagerly, chewing at this lower lip at the sound of your praise. good boy. yes, he could be your good boy. he would always be your good boy.

although he couldn't see it, he knew your smile was there when you said, "good. don't forget to count, okay, baby?" which, really, should have been the first sign of something dangerous looming.

the sound of your hand slapping his skin was promptly followed by a fucking howl that was stripped out of his throat; loud and jagged and surprised and so fucked over that satoru's head throbbed with it.

because jesus motherfucking fuck, you just slapped his cunt.

"count, baby."

satoru could barely even think past the static ringing in his air, stuffing his brain full with cloth, but he thought he might have choked out a whimpering, "one."

your hand moved once again to his cunt, he motion gentler this time. you didn't spank him again but rather, you spread his legs, exposing more of his cunt, and he whimpers in anticipation.

but your fingers only breach the lips of his cunt, spreading his labia apart to look at the slick already dripping the moment his folds were parted. you cooed at him, and satoru felt himself burning with so much fucking feelings that he couldn't even identify a proper source for it.

holy shit.

"four more," you whispered, your thumb dragging along his slit down to his clit. you rubbed it for a moment, causing satoru to whine at the feeling. "just a bit more, okay, baby?"

he didn't know if he nodded, or if he just lay there across your lap—rooted in place and feeling lightheaded, entirely motionless—but you must have found something you wanted to see from him because he could feel you moving again.

anticipating what would come after didn't make it any easier to handle.

your palm met the centre of his cunt perfectly, the tips of your fingers catching his clit, and satoru sobbed. "two," he quickly scrambled to rasp out before you could make him repeat it, before you could make him start all over. "two, that's—" he catches his breath, tongue feeling swollen in his mouth. "that's two."

"good boy."

another slap, making his back arch and his body squirm away from the sensation. the sound was fucking disgusting, even more so now that the slick accumulating on his cunt had created a pillow for your hand to rest on, creating a loud squelching sound that made satoru's toes curl.

"three," satoru whimpered. "it hurts."

"just two more," you reassured him, your fingers grazing over his entrance but never once dipping inside. fuck. "can you do that for me?"

satoru sniffled, but he nodded. "two more," he repeated.

"good boy."

your next slap came in sharp and quick, and he barely managed to blurt out, "four." before he collapses into sobs. his body is slumped, weak and unable to even twitch.

one more, he thought. just one more.

letting out a ragged breath, satoru's voice bleeds into a high keen when he feels you pull back the hood over his clit, exposing the sensitive nerve. the realisation of what you're about to do strikes him a second, too late.

no, you're going to—

your entire fucking palm met his exposed clit, sending up a burning sensation across the length of satoru's spine. "five!" satoru shouted, a little desperate, a lot hurt, equal measures of feeling fucked right out of his mind.

"fuck, that's five. that's—" he couldn't even finish his sentence, already broken off to sobs and whimpers as his entire fucking body trembles at the feeling of it. fuck. every inch of him felt numb; all of the hurt centred on the feeling of your slap on his clit.

the world is a hazy blur of static and cotton and distance for a long moment. when satoru's world comes back into focus, he's still on your lap, but seated now, positioned in a way that saved his cunt from any accidental stimulation. his mouth parted and drool dripping down the corners of your lips, but your hands are on his his back, keeping him close, and you're murmuring sweet nothings to him.

and he must have done something—something right, something wrong—because he feels himself going weightless and then your lips are brushing over the shell of his ear, and you're telling him, "get your rest, satoru. you deserve it."

oh, satoru thought dazedly, feeling the world drift in and out of motion for a long moment. this is why. because for all your cruelty and all your harshness, you were exceptionally gentle in the aftermath. satoru's vision is blurring around the edges, but he feels you all the same—warm and present and there.

"g'night," he thought he might've slurred out.

he might imagine the feeling of your lips on his temple, but he liked to think that it was real all the same.

[impishjesters]

First-time jitters (NSFW-ish)

warning(s): kissing, hickeys, suggestive themes, implied lead-up to sex, sexual jokes note(s): Naked twister kind of joke, not anything in a typical Jax insulting joke form. A/N: I actually really liked writing this, it gave me a chance to write just kissing and while I still suck at it, it was something. Plus I can totally see Jax cracking jokes to keep his s/o from being so tense and nervous. Happy that this didn't push me out of my comfort zone, even if it did make me feel weird about writing kisses. I'm not experienced in that department either. request: Hey I was wondering if you could write a very slight NSFW of Jax and the Reader? Maybe this is the reader’s first time and is nervous about it?

“I’ve uh, never done this before…” You mutter nervously, hands playing with the hem of your shirt.

“What sat on a bed with a man?” Jax snorts.

“Ass, you know that’s not—”

“Oh, you’ve never played naked twister? It’s a little slippery I’ll admit.”

“Jax…”

“See you’re already doing a great job, ya already got saying my name down. Though I’d like to hear it a bit louder and more desperately, maybe a tad more breathy.”

You cross your arms in irritation and embarrassment, this was not how you were going to spend your first time if he kept being a little shit lord and keep cracking jokes. You loved him and tolerated enough of this outside of the bedroom, it wasn’t exactly something you were expecting during such an intimate moment.

As if sensing your thoughts Jax took a seat on the bed and leaned closer, placing a hand on each side of you on the bed. “Oh c’mon angel, I’m trying to ease the tension. Ya more wound up than a music box, if ya this tense it’ll hurt. And we don’t want that.”

Jax wasn’t stupid, he could tell you weren’t ready when the topic was officially brought up and told you he was fine waiting. Blue ballin’ sucked but he’d endure it until you were ready—which was tonight, if you were still up for it.

He caught you chewing on your bottom lip and raised a hand to tap at your lips to get you to quit. “Ya know I won’t do anything to hurt you, especially if ya aren’t into it.” You giggle faintly and he slips his fingers over to pinch your cheek. “There we go, loosen up and I’ll help loosen you up so it won’t hurt. Trust me.”

“That’s pretty bold of you to ask me to trust you of all people.” You tease. However, there is reassurance in the tender touch and his tone that has you relaxing more and more into his touch.

Jax rolls his eyes playfully, giving your cheek another pinch before moving the hand back to the bed. “And ya pretty dumb to trust me of all people.” he pokes back.

It’s all in good fun, it’s not typically how he’d treat someone in bed but you aren’t just any random shmuck in his bed. Plus it’s your first time and he’d rather not make it an unpleasant experience, he would like to get laid more than once after all.

Before you can respond he gives you a quick kiss, shifting to get more comfortable on the bed with you but not making any attempts to undress either of you. “We’ll go slow, ain’t gotta get naked right from the start—though I won’t complain if you wanna strip.” His brows waggle suggestively but his tone is far from it.

“Can we just kiss for now?” Kissing isn’t new and it feels like a nice start to everything, you don’t want to back out now but you aren’t going to just force your way straight into sex.

“Sure doll.”

Jax is surprisingly careful with his kisses, each kiss is sweet yet firm until you find yourself getting impatient at the little pecks and run your tongue along his bottom lip. Working around his teeth takes a few minutes but in no time the kisses grow more heated and full of tongue.

The distance between the two of you gradually closes, Jax sits with his legs loosely crossed creating the perfect little spot in the middle for you. He drapes your thighs over his and tugs you closer to create just the right amount of space between the two of you, mainly so he doesn’t have to keep breaking his back to lean in.

Your hands find purchase around his neck while his hands find home on your lower back. It’s no different than the usual make-out session except this will actually lead to more than just the two of you separating and having to wind down or take care of things separately.

Jax is the first to break away, leaving you panting. You’re such a flustered, red mess and he’s soaking up every little noise and expression on your face. Diving back in he dodges your lips much to your confusion and instead aims for your neck. You tilt your head to give him better access and he peppers the area with kisses and the occasional nibble.

He pulls back after a bit, satisfied to see your neck littered with his marks, and gently guides your head to tilt the other way, giving the same attention to the unmarked side. There’s no way someone won’t say something later, the marks are too obvious and most definitely won’t be covered by your clothes—you’ll have to think of an excuse later.

Eventually, he has to pull away and admire his handiwork again, that smug expression on his face per usual, except the reason is different this time, more genuine. “What a pretty necklace ya got there doll, who bought it for ya?”

Necklace? You weren’t wearing any—oh the hickeys. “Jaaax..” That’s so painfully cheesy that you can’t help but whine and giggle.

“Your damn right I did. Looks so good on ya too.”

He runs his fingers over the fresh marks and you can’t help but shudder at the sensitivity. You don’t remember them normally being that sensitive, but you also don’t remember him ever leaving that many in one sitting. Something tells you those won’t be the only hickeys you’ll end up with.

Your eyes fall on his own neck, bare as ever, and find yourself feeling a little mischievous. “How about we give you a matching one?”

Jax’s arms tighten around you, pulling you closer as if to help give you a better position before his hands knead into your hips. “Oh sugar, I’d be more than happy to be sportin’ a matching necklace with you.”

[frogchiro]

okay wait why am i now just hearing about butcher/slasher ghost, and why am i foaming at the mouth!!!???! like ripping apart pillows, tearing down walls, doing flips—RAHHH i am officially OBSESSED!!

i read it and thought of texas chainsaw massacre, but it’s the 2006 one so like simon is an absolute menace but he sees a pretty lady who’s new to town and his cold killer heart just can’t help but swoon :((( and she’s so polite, nervous, and timid because it’s so different in this town and simon with his cursed blessed keen sense of smell

OH MY GOD BUT SLASHER GRAVES IN A SMALL TOWN DOWN IN TEXAS!!!?

so sorry if this is a lot!! 😣 i’m just a little obsessed 🤭🤭 either way, have an amazing day!! stay hydrated and make sure to eat 🩷🩷

HOW THE FUCK DID I NEVER THINK OF SLASHER GRAVES

My dear, I know that you probably expected Butcher!Ghost but I'm highjacking this ask now and writing slasher Graves because oh my god-

The setting I imagine to be in a small southern town in Texas, and I imagine it to be like one of those creepy, small southern gothic towns with the old abandoned churches, houses and old beaten up signs that say "His return is near" or "God is watching you", you get the idea.

And there we have Philip Graves who owns a big ranch passed down for generations in his family, and by big I mean HUGE. Enormous pastures, corn fields, cows, horses, pigs and all that which means he and his name is quite well know in the area which admittedly makes his...hobby a lot easier than you'd think. Graves has friends in high places and he's buddy buddy with the town's sheriff, basically the golden child of the town which means that both the police and the sheriff will turn a blind eye to the "sudden disappearances" of people, be it locals or newcomers to town.

But the thing is that Philip Graves is bored. Bored out of his mind and nothing seems to excite him anymore, not even the desperate hysterical screams of his victims do the thing anymore. Sure he definitely has the money, the looks that refined well with age, he's respected and liked in the community but the truth is-he doesn't give a shit about it.

I imagine that Slasher!Graves is an incredibly arrogant man, and while he may put on a pleasant facade, his accent a thick and purring drawl and his southern charm do the trick he's a whimsical and capricious prick who gets easily bored and when he does...Well let's just say that it doesn't end pretty.

So imagine how surprised he was when he was in town once in his pickup truck, cowboy hat low on his brow as he watched the cars go by when suddenly his eyes were caught by a bus, one of those that travel for very long distances and the only person who got out was you. To say that Philip's interest was piqued would be an understatement; what's a pretty soft little thing like you doing in this bumfuck nowhere in Texas?

A pretty young lady, seemingly around 20, who looked like a lost little lamb, but just what were you doing here? Everything about you screamed that you're obviously not from here and while he could see even from a distance that you tried to act confident, his sharp blue eyes saw right through that act-you were scared shitless and more than lost. Were you here to visit someone? Or maybe...you are running from something? Whatever the case was, you definitely caught his attention in more than one way.

You just looked...so soft, so pretty, lovely he'd even say and I'm sorry but this Graves that we're talking about would definitely be a little misogynistic :(( He's old fashioned, maybe it comes with his age or maybe due to how his pa raised him but the further he observed you the more he he couldn't help but think about how such a pretty young lady like yourself should be married off already to a nice gentleman, getting provided for like you deserve and in return takin' care of your husband too; bringing him beer, cookin' and popping out a kid or two :((

His train of thoughts got interrupted only by a loud booming voice calling out his name cheerfully and when he turned around annoyed to see who was interrupting him, it turned out to be old Michael, an old friend of his pa. He greeted him politely but when he turned around to watch you a little more it turned out that you already wandered off, sneaky girl.

Philip cursed under his breath but on the other hand he decided to just ask the sheriff about you since he knows that the man has access to all the information about any newcomers to town. It looks like his bored streak came to an end <3

[rejectedfables]

While the source material clearly intends Xue Yang to be read as an orphan (perhaps orphaned so young he has no memory of his parents), I think it’s underexplored in fandom that he never ACTUALLY SAYS that his parents DIED, but rather that he was a child without parents. 

"He had neither dad nor mom nor money" (via the official english translation)

I think there's something in here worth exploring about the possibility that Xue Yang was abandoned by his parents. 

Perhaps he remembers one or both of them and/or the event, perhaps he does not but just has a sense of it having happened, perhaps he has no memories of it at all but it still psychologically impacted his development. 

Just about every character in the story can be better understood by looking at how they were raised, and Xue Yang is CERTAINLY not an exception. 

There are myriad ways to interpret his childhood (though none of them stable, safe, or cared for), but I have been thinking a LOT lately about how being abandoned by his parents could have shaped him into who he later became.

His behavior in the Villainous Friends extra (wherein he, seemingly arbitrarily, breaks things and antagonizes people and then specifically challenges Jin Guangyao about paying for damages) COULD be interpreted as acting out in a way that's common for children and teens with a history of abandonment who are testing the waters of just how much their new guardian/s will tolerate. This sort of behavior can be a self fulfilling prophesy as well as an attempt to prove to themselves that their expectations of rejection or punishment are correct.

If Xue Yang has only ever known the world to be a painful place where people reject and abandon him, then that's how he expects the world to continue behaving. If suddenly someone defies this expectation, it is simultaneously a fascinating and wondrous thing, and also a threat to his worldview. After all, if THIS person can be kind and care for him, then why didn't anyone else?

If JGY, who at this point is essentially just his handler, can be unconditionally patient with him... then why couldn't others have been patient with him over much less? And why couldn't his own parents, who had considerably higher responsibility to him, be as patient as JGY?

It's much easier to push and push and push until you break the patience and prove your cynicism correct, than it is to grapple with those painful questions. And after all, Jin Guangyao had an exterior force (Jin Guangshan) requiring him to show patience. And once that force was removed, so was Xue Yang. This, perhaps, felt as much like validation as it did betrayal.

There might be a parallel to be made here, too, about how JGY was and felt betrayed/abandoned by his father. This in common might be something that they bonded over.

And of course, as always, there's Yi City.

Xue Yang expects Xiao Xingchen to abandon him, and his elaborate “revenge” was at least in part in preparation for that anticipated betrayal. He "knows" he will be betrayed and, perhaps unlike what happened with Jin Guangyao, he intends to be ready for it this time. Ready to punish Xiao Xingchen the MOMENT it happens, or ready to convince him not to betray him after all (what is "We're not so different, I'm not uniquely evil, you're ending our life together because you think you're better than me but look! Look! You and I are the same now" if not a deeply misguided and utterly desperate plea?).

At some point he starts hoping it just won't happen, and stops needing the “revenge” plot. When it starts unraveling before him, he tries for understanding first. What is "Hear my story, THEN decide--" if not begging to be understood?

Of course it doesn't work.

Xiao Xingchen doesn't even kill Xue Yang, either; he goes Away. Goes where Xue Yang can't. If Xue Yang is read as having this particular trigger, Xiao Xingchen's suicide may feel like abandonment all over again.

Perhaps Xiao Xingchen NOT killing Xue Yang becomes a parallel to Xue Yang's parents abandoning him to suffer alone instead of keeping him or killing him. Or else maybe Xue Yang's mother DID try to kill him (drown him or left him out in the cold) and he just managed to survive, in which case Xiao Xingchen NOT trying to kill Xue Yang puts him a cut above even Xue Yang's own mother/parents.

Final thought:

While I find Xue Yang's lack of familial connection to the rest of the cast compelling, I also find "what if" scenarios fascinating to explore, and "Xue Yang was abandoned by parents who might still be around during the story" does create some fascinating opportunities for fic.

Such as:

What if Xue Yang was yet another illegitimate son of Jin Guangshan? What if he knew but Jin Guangyao didn't? What if Jin Guangyao knew but Xue Yang didn't? What if Jin Guangshan himself knew? That would really put the insistent protections into a very weird light (is there a heart in there? Or did he think he could string Xue Yang along like he did Jin Guangyao? Or was Xue Yang blackmailing him?)

OR

What if Xue Yang was the illegitimate son of Chang Cian? It certainly puts a spin on that entire scenario. Little Xue Yang has another reason to want to please this man, and a further reason to feel betrayed by the abuse. Chang Cian not even recognizing him. Xue Yang taking revenge on the entire family because they ALL wronged him in a way he can't articulate. Because they got to live the life he could have if he'd been wanted.

Certainly none of this is canon, but it's not TERRIBLY far beyond the bounds of canon either, and makes for some juicy food for fic.

[youcouldmakealife]

PSA

The recent ask about SAIT gives me an opportunity I have been, well. Not waiting for, exactly, but preparing for, maybe?

TL;DR: Gritty's delayed indefinitely (not the 'indefinitely' that's a cowardly 'forever', the kind that actually does mean 'we don't know for how long')

More detail below.

SAIT is, at this point in time, projected to have 20-24 parts in 2024, rather than the 11-13 I was anticipating. Which is great! I'm genuinely really pleased that it's been cooperating, and I hope you all are too.

But, because those 10 extra parts had to come from somewhere, and it wasn't COTT (at least mostly), that brings us to news many of you likely figured was coming, especially as the year's gone on: Gritty (working title is actually Grit & Determination, like a very Philadelphian Pride & Prejudice) isn't going to be coming in 2024, as I'd been originally planning.

Most of the reason I've put off this Official Delay (other than garden variety procrastination, which can and does strike at will), was because I frankly don't want to delay it, and I was desperately trying to find a way to fit it in.

But SAIT has been going so well that I refuse to slow down at all, for fear I stop the momentum entirely, and I don't want to write less of COTT either. I think ongoing series should pretty much always outrank starting new projects on the whole priority list (or I will literally never finish anything ever again).

And there's another scheduling wrinkle coming, because there will be a Kickstarter coming in 2025, with all the attendant work involved. Add the fact I'm trying to figure out the writing pace that works for me without leading to burnout (and dealing with the frustration of that being slower than I'd like), and I'm hesitant to give a timeline beyond 'TBD'.

But please know that this absolutely isn't a case of 'lost inspiration/will/interest' or the like. It's more a result of me prioritizing certain things higher than I have been, and altering my projected workload to fit those priorities, the number one priority for me since I was diagnosed as a AA battery (autistic with ADHD) being to work at a pace I can sustain and maintain. Sustain and maintain meaning without missing deadlines (like every Kickstarter I have ever done), constantly shuffling projects around like they'll fit if I find the right combo, and risking my own health and happiness by refusing to acknowledge that I don't have the same energy levels as a) neurotypical people and b) myself in my 20s (who frankly didn't have the energy either, which is what led to burnout in the first place).

I'm bummed about it, and I totally understand if you are too, but it's still top of my priority list in the 'future series' category. It's just that the category itself is going to be delayed for a bit, because two series (and then two series plus a Kickstarter project) is all I can handle at the moment.

[shveris]

incorrect quotes collection, part 3

today i bring you: things that definitely happened in the canon (trust me i'm gege's pc)

part 1 part 2

megumi: any room can be a panic room if you’d just give me a fucking second

sukuna, during the heian period: i was born for politics. i have great hair and i love lying

noritoshi: poison is a magic transmutation potion that turns people into corpses

miwa: this katana is actually a magic wand

momo: meet me in the inageya parking lot for a wizard duel

mai: *cocks gun* magic missile

kokichi: what the fuck is wrong with you people

yuuji: do you guys hear something?

sukuna: i hear the sound of you shutting the fuck up

satoru: what does 'take out' mean?

shoko: murder

haibara: dating

nanami: food

suguru: it can mean all three if you’re not a coward

shoko, on the phone with suguru: they’re in the kitchen again

satoru, in the background: “beat 3 eggs”… in what? hand to hand combat?

haibara, in the background: must be since nanami banned technique usage in the kitchen last thursday, remember?

suguru: gET THEM OUT OF THERE

megumi: goddamn it, the printer broke while printing out yuuji’s birthday invitations

maki: well, what are they supposed to say

megumi: “yuuji’s birthday”

panda: what do they say instead?

megumi: “yuuji's bi”

toge:

nobara: works out either way

sukuna: do you prefer gendered terms?

yuuji: i guess so

sukuna: fuck you

yuuji: where was the gendered term?

sukuna: in your mom

yuuji:

yuuji: my mom got dicked down by your twin which you ate in the womb

sukuna:

satoru: goodness me, it’s the perfect day for our hiking trip! bless mother nature

megumi, out of breath: mother nature is a WHORE

yuuji: what’s up guys? i’m back

megumi: what the- you can’t be here. you’re dead. i literally saw you die

sukuna: death is a social construct

satoru: died and came back as a cowboy, i call that reintarnation

nobara: wow, i don’t even get the joke but it sounds funny

megumi: that’s nOT. THE. FUCKING. POINT.

nobara: what the fuck yuuji, what are you doing here!?

yuuji: i missed you guys!

megumi: you just survived a car crash

nobara: the doctors said you have internal bleeding

yuuji: yeah, and? isn’t that where blood’s supposed to be?

megumi: i need to sit down…

these two are how yuuji's comeback should've went...

shoko: yeah, i'll smoke a joint tonight, but let's not get too crazy

*4 hours forward to shoko, suguru and satoru getting arrested for blocking the main road in large traffic cone costumes*

nobara: the only thing i'm guilty of is being gorgeous… and also assault with a hammer

satoru, on the night of the war delcaration: suguru, i’m sorry. i can’t keep seeing you anymore

suguru: no shit, you’re always wearing that blindfold

satoru: suguru… no…

nanami: gojo, we have a problem

satoru: what, the fire?

nanami: no, the- wait, what fire?

satoru: oh forget about it, this sounds more interesting

shoko: that was a joke. say ha

nanami: ha

shoko: now do it again

nanami: ha

shoko: congratulations, you are officially the life of the party

satoru: i would let you ruin my life

suguru: sorry, i’m busy ruining my own. you’ll have to wait

satoru, turning to suguru: my dick stopped breathing. it’s in desperate need of cpr

suguru: you’re in desperate need of a beating

shoko: or a lobotomy

suguru: both

shoko: if the beating is hard enough, it’ll count as a lobotomy

satoru: i always knew you guys were homophobic

satoru: none of those words are in the bible

shoko: psalm 119:105. “and jesus said unto his followers, should a manlet incel attempt to mansplain the blockchain to a girlboss, may she waste his time and yassify his blorbos”

suguru: he did not fucking say that

megumi: i taught my dog a new trick *throws ball* fetch!

dog: *just stands there*

noabara: he didn’t do it

megumi: that's because i taught him to ignore social conventions and think for himself

suguru: i’d kill someone if you asked me to

satoru: i’m pretty sure you’d kill someone even if i didn’t ask you to

megumi: if bees can be fish and boys can be girls, then why did my dad sell me to the zen'in clan?

nobara: i thought i was going to have to yell at you, but now i think i should hug you

sukuna, on yuuji's cheek: the real secret to immortality? not dying. you want to be immortal? okay, that’s easy. just don’t die. that’s it. refuse to die. there you go.

yuuji: but how-

sukuna, ignoring him: “but how” you may ask. well, easy. just don’t do it. refuse to. say “no, fuck you”

nobara: i'm not creepy

nobara: i'm petty

nobara: there's a difference, ya know

waiter: what would you like?

yuuji: a milkshake with two straws

megumi: *blushes*

yuuji: *puts both straws in his mouth* watch how fast i can drink this!

haibara: ieri-san, is that my mug you’re drinking out of?

shoko: no, it’s mine

haibara: it… looks just like the one i have…

shoko: you don’t have one like this anymore

megumi: i'm a witch. i mixed some herbs and crystals together and now all my shikigami know the f-word

nobara: which one?

megumi: what do you mean?

nobara: there's more than one f-word

yuuji, entring the room: you talkin' 'bout faggots?

megumi: why would we talk about cigarettes?

sukuna: i'll offer you some friendly advice-

yuuji: i don't want your advice

sukuna: well, then consider it unfriendly advice

jjk manga ends in 30 days which means i'm gonna nap on the highway after that last chapter drops :muscle:

[soundspeachytome]

7 minutes in heaven - shohei ohtani au

summary: Y/N snoops around famous football player Shohei Ohtani’s locker in search for a scandal against his clean record but ends up in one herself.

tropes: friends with benefits, friends to lovers(?)

tw: *slight* smut, mentions of sex, oral (f receiving)

word count: 30,033K words (i'm SO sorry in advance holy shit)

hi! it's been a while. when i made this account, i vowed to write at least once a week but it had been so difficult this month juggling work, my chronic migraines, and seasonal depression (lol).

please note i did not proofread this so plsssss i apologize for grammar mistakes and inconsistencies!!

posting this on the last day of 2023, hoping to give everyone a good read before we welcome the new year. so thankful for this small space to try, linger and reset all over again. hope you had a very merry holidays with your loved ones.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

==================================

Locker Lockdown

At around thirty minutes past four in the afternoon, I skimmed the clubhouse for any signs of life. It was only the quiet that prevailed. Clear. 

I tiptoed my way towards the player locker room. I only had around ten minutes to locate the correct locker and take whatever I could find. Discovering the locker area to be empty and unguarded, I felt a surge of excitement. 

Six years later, I couldn’t get my big break and decided sports journalism could catapult me into somewhere big in the industry. This is my last chance to prove myself, otherwise I’d have to reconsider going back home and write Hallmark greeting card messages again. 

Shohei Ohtani’s jersey number is the number 17. Lucky bastard, after all these years and even after going through free agency, he got to keep his famous number, even at the cost of having their senior player give it up for him when he joined the football team. 

And here you might be wondering why I’m doing this aside from my sheer desperation to get an official spot in the workplace and not eat scraps of topics editors discarded for themselves. 

Some people are privileged to a fault.

And I hate seeing him on TV. Or on social media. Or his Colgate-white smile plastered all over my favorite beer and skincare brands. 

Some would say this is the TMZ tabloid level of writing. I say this is investigative journalism. Find out if the famous favorite son-in-law has any flaws of his own and wrap around a bowtie of hidden horrors of sports documentaries. 

And where else can we find this but in the athlete hotpot: their locker room.

I found Shohei’s locker right away as it was the tidiest locker among all on display, with nothing but brand-sponsored clothing hung neatly on the rack. He also donned the top shelf with some dog-eared self-help titles and vitamin bottles. While the rest of the athletes have pictures of their girlfriends, wives and their kids, Shohei has an unreleased polaroid selfie with his dog, Dekopin, just right beside his perfume bottles. Dekopin was looking away, captured in mid-yawn, with his ears raised, and Shohei, smiling into the camera with pursed lips and a snapback on.

I got so immersed into reading the ingredients of his vitamin bottles, trying to find anything remotely related to steroids, or any form of illegal bodily enhancements, that I didn’t notice footsteps from outside the hall.

“What are you doing here?” a voice loomed behind me and I dropped the diet supplement bottle in panic.

Only the sound of the bottle rattling could be heard as I locked eyes with Shohei Ohtani, tall and all muscular. His hair was sweaty and unkempt and his eyes held mild anger and confusion. After the bottle stopped rolling and settled somewhere on the floor between us, there was only silence and the cold sweat building up at my back. 

I swallowed hard. I planned everything from studying the stadium’s entrance and exit doors but I didn’t plan on bumping into him. Not like this. Not when I’m at the lowest level of the social hierarchy right now. 

I could only be ashamed. 

Brain still befuddled at the thought of getting caught, I urged my limbs and picked up the vitamin bottle and returned it back to Shohei’s locker. The plan was not to respond at all and run as fast as I could before the rest of his team arrived. That was the only way to keep whatever dignity I have left. 

“I said, what are you doing here?” He caught my arm mid-exit and pulled me back, tightening his grip. 

“Let go of me.” I struggled to keep my balance and the way my voice wavered was no help at all. 

Shohei saw the camera slung over my shoulder and looked back at me, realization hitting him.

“Y/N, are you a sports journalist now? And were you looking through my stuff?” he said, sounding almost disappointed. 

“That’s none of your business. Let go of me.” I kept my voice steady but his grip only tightened. The sides of my eyes slowly formed tears. 

“What tabloid media do you work for? I should report you. Would you like that? What a shame you’ll be banned from all the games now, right? You nasty journalists just won’t keep your noses away from my business.” he took my camera and deleted all the photos I took of the contents of his locker. I tried to leap for it but he was obviously inches taller than I was and I was no match for that.

“I don’t write tabloid news. If I was, my name would have been all over TV by now.” I grabbed the camera from him and sighed morosely at the lost media. A day’s work is all lost.

“My boss gave me a green light to do a documentary about the team. And the star player.” I wiggled my fingers in front of him, as if to emphasize the word “star” in front of him.

“I came here assuming you and the other players would be here for an interview but no one was around yet. So I hung around a bit and took interest in your nutritional supplements.” Lie after lie after lie. I gritted my teeth and faked a smile. The most convincing lie I’ve learned on almost all my failed dates and relationships was to stroke a man’s ego and have him talk about all the things he is interested in, making him divert his attention to something else. 

“You’ve got really good, um, vitamins for muscle recovery there. Maybe that’s why you got so big and strong, right?.” He looked at me dubiously, nodding responsively to be polite. If he took the bait, then he is obviously just like any other guy I’ve ever met. 

“I mean, I guess? I’ve been doing deadlifts so–”

Approaching footsteps and faint voices were heard from the hall. Shohei pushed me toward the opposite end of the hall, where the showers were located. 

“Wha–” I started but was shut up when he pushed me further into the back of the shower room, swiping the doors closed. 

“Shut up if you don’t want to be caught.” He growled and I recoiled back into the tiled corner. On top of me was the almost rusting shower head who had seen better days, and two bottle pumps for shampoo and body wash. 

Voices and conversations were starting to fill in the locker room that was empty only a few seconds ago. The voices of men echoed through the shower rooms.  You could hear the sound of water turning on from neighboring shower stalls, laughter and tired conversation in the locker area. We were surrounded.

Shohei could be heard laughing with his mates while blocking the door to the shower room I was hiding in. 

“Are you using that, Sho? I could use a hot shower right now.” one of his teammates said. 

“Uh, no, I was just about to use this room, sorry.” he said, almost hesitating. After a few seconds, he entered the shower room and started undressing. 

I widened my eyes and shot him daggers. When he unhooked his shirt from his armholes, I was rendered speechless. 

He had the body sculpted by the gods with his wide shoulders and large pecs that glinted under the light. How could someone look handsome and beautiful at the same time? 

So when Shohei reached for the waist belt of his pants down, I didn’t know why I had choked on a silent scream. I looked away, embarrassed to have reacted like an inexperienced teenager. I have seen and have been with naked men before. This should be nothing new to me and my level. Or so I thought.

I stole a glance at Shohei, who was slowly walking towards me (or to the showerhead, where I stood under, obviously)  in only his boxers on, gazing at me in wild amusement.

We were almost inches apart from each other, foreheads almost touching, breaths almost converging, if you may. If I stand on my tiptoes, I would be almost at his eye-level and I could peck him on the lips if I wanted to. 

If I wanted to.

“Sorry, but I need to shower or someone else will try to take this stall.” His voice broke my salacious thoughts. He looked at me and turned the shower on.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m supposed to. Aren’t I? I just got off practice and I stink.” He said almost sarcastically.

“So I’m supposed to just watch you bathe and hope I get out here alive?” Water slowly dripped into my shirt, soaking my chest and exposing a bit of my underwear. 

“If you didn’t sneak in here, we wouldn’t have this problem.” He concluded and pursed his lips, not looking at me. 

“Shohei? You okay? You sound like you’re talking to someone.” a familiar voice floated into the shower room.

“It was a video on my phone that I forgot to pause, Ippei-san.” Shohei’s face turned red but recovered quickly, glaring at me. 

“Oh, well then, I thought you finally had a girl in there. I was wrong.” Ippei laughed.

Shohei started lathering body wash on his body at the slowest pace possible. His hands glided through his chest, stomach, and into the dick he’s restraining inside his boxers. Simply having this view had me almost whimpering. If it had been another day, I would have obviously enjoyed this, having a sexy man bathe in front of me, because who wouldn’t? But under my circumstances, I’m only fairly annoyed at being a flustered, hot mess and I couldn’t do anything about it. 

“Oh, fuck, now you got me wet.” I blurted a little loudly as the water splashed and got into my socks. 

Shohei’s widened and panicked eyes shot at me.

In between those short seconds, Shohei was able to respond quicker than my brain could. He had faked a laugh and said loudly, “Well, that’s awkward, the video keeps on playing on its own. Let me turn my phone off instead.” gaining laughter from outside the shower area and then reaching for the small of my neck and closed whatever space was seen between us. 

Based on what I had learned in self-defense training, my initial bodily reaction should have been this: If someone is coming at you from the front, a groin kick may deliver enough force to paralyze your attacker, making your escape possible. 1. Stabilize yourself as best you can. 2. Lift your dominant leg off the ground and begin to drive your knee upward. 3. Extend your dominant leg, drive hips forward, slightly lean back, and kick forcefully, making contact between your lower shin or ball of your foot and the attacker’s groin area.

Instead, when his lips touched mine, I felt my arms throw around his neck and pulled him closer. They say we’re all beggars for something, and this indulgence I had let myself be greedy for. 

When his lips reached mine, I parted like the Red Sea almost immediately, welcoming him and everything that he could offer: the taste of his tongue on my mouth, the smell of honey orange and apricot from his body wash seeping through my nose as I peppered kisses on his chest, and his obviously hard dick grinding against my stomach. When I palmed him, he managed a low growl and caught my wrists.

“Not here.” he groaned.

I pushed my head back inquiringly, both of us breathing too hard. 

“I have no condom,” he tucked a wet strand of hair behind my ear. Under the dim bathroom light, I could see his face and chest were flushed. “Next time?”

“Well, usually when two old friends meet after a fall out in college, they just catch up and have coffee.” I said.

He laughed and said quietly, “Okay, so I owe you.”

“The coffee or the protected sex?” 

“Uh, it could go a lot of ways.” Before he could say more, I palmed him through his boxer shorts and looked up at him, trying to find his limit.

Shohei bit his own lip and tugged the roots of my hair in a bundle, pulling and tugging from the pleasure. To keep himself from making such ungodly hot sounds, he pushed his tongue down my throat and thrusted his hips back and forth against my hand.

As if to make it even, he unclasped my bra and sucked on my already soaked breasts, a satisfied groan slipped from me. We both pulled and pushed and sucked and kissed each other in the crevices the shower splatters couldn’t reach, silencing the moans before it could escape us.  

In that brief and elating moment, while we muted the noise from unsuspecting people, we smothered each other’s groans and reached our highs in the quietest, most pleasurable way possible. 

=========================================

7 minutes of heaven

It’s strange how I always find myself in the most ridiculous situations. 

The next few occasions that I’d meet Shohei would be wordless and timed interactions in enclosed spaces. We’d see each other in public and pretend we didn’t know each other but slip each other notes of the next place we’d secretly meet. It all felt strangely exhilarating to keep a secret like a fifteen year old would, with all the sneaking and running. 

We’ve explored almost every nook and cranny of the stadium, discovering hidden spots of our rendezvous. We’d meet up in a different bathroom and he’d push me on my back while he fucks me repeatedly on the bathroom sink. Pre-game preps meant I gave him blowjobs in his manager’s office hours and hours before everyone even arrived. 

Of course, when we ran out of places to hide, we’d go as far as looking for the next empty parking lot and tried to fuck each other noiselessly.

“So when can I take you out for dinner?” he had asked one day, when he dragged me out to meet with him around after midnight. I wouldn’t let him inside my apartment and I refused to do the deed in his either, so he’d bring me to places that only us knew, to fuck, to kiss, sometimes to talk, but more often, to drive each other’s pleasure and only that. 

Because god forbid we both catch feelings and lose the fun, right?

So no talking, no sharing of personal details, no anything. 

We were in an empty parking lot, away from the lampposts and streetlights. Shohei had made sure that we were well hidden in the dark. 

He had his legs spread while sitting on the driver’s seat. His hands, warm and wide, rested on my hips and thighs, lightly urging me to ride him slowly.

Soft RNB music played on the stereo, it was a quiet, still night. It was both our day off so he had wanted us to chill and take the sex slowly.

Slow meant gazing at each other’s eyes–gaze, not look–with endearment or adoration, not lust or pleasure. Slow meant thinking the unthinkable thoughts. Slow meant being vulnerable while coming undone.

And I don’t want the slow and quiet moments. I wanted the fast and rough with no time to talk, gaze or even think, just one hundred percent fun and debauchery. 

“Mmm. Maybe when you show me your photos,” I avoided the question but I also knew Shohei would never show me the photos he had taken–past and present. Even when we had been buddies for an entire semester, he had, not once, shown me his portfolio. 

“So probably never, right?” he gazed up at me with his creamy brown eyes, hands caressing my stomach lightly. 

“Probably,” I muttered and with that he had gripped my thighs tightly and moved his hips upwards to meet me. I moaned when he hit me in the right spots. Any sign of softness he had shown a few moments ago was gone, and only the roughness and unsettling disconnection remained. 

This particularly fine day, I would be standing at the mercy of his mouth. He had dragged me to an empty storage room in the east wing of the stadium, hours after practice. According to him, the area stands the exact opposite from the lockers so most people hardly come by. How he had found out about this, I had no idea. 

He was kneeling in between me, my right leg hooked on his shoulder, giving him more access and my hands tugged at the strands of his hair every time he licked my sensitive clit. 

Shohei’s tongue grazing against me had left me quivering in delight. He stands up and kisses me, giving me a taste. My fingers started unbuckling his belt when he felt his phone vibrate. 

“Oops, Ippei’s looking for me.” He pockets his phone, looking forlorn, as if telling me he didn’t really want to go yet. “See you again next time?”

“Yours or mine?” I had asked, brushing up and straightening my wrinkled dress. And when I realized what I had done, Shohei’s eyes shot up and he beamed widely. 

“I just– I- I want a proper night with sex, you know.” I explained, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s so uncomfortable having to go commando at work after you had just literally sucked the life out of my vagina, Sho.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He smiled even more.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” 

“What? Fuck off.” By this time, my face felt hot and had probably looked red like a tomato, which probably amused Shohei even more. 

“Your place, then. I’ll call you.” he gives me one last kiss then heads out first, leaving me a dazed and pulsating mess.

A shrill sound knocked me awake. It felt like seven thousand screaming hungry babies in my ear, bouncing off around my brain like a pinball. 

I looked at the digital clock on the bedside table and saw the time glinting behind the glass: 8:41 PM. I must've fallen asleep after taking a half day off from work, feeling nauseous and slightly feverish. It seemed that whatever body malaise that I have been carrying inside me earlier had sprung into a full-blown ailment.

 I pushed my body up and walked groggily to the source of my misery. 

Someone was buzzing the doorbell and repeatedly pounding on the door. Great.

“If you’re not dead or dying behind this door, you’re about to be.” I croaked harshly, throat burning; putting all my remaining energy in pulling the door open. I was greeted by an extremely tall man with frantic brown eyes, searching my face.

“Oh, thank fucking god. I’ve been knocking for half an hour.” he wrapped me in a tight hug, I almost collapsed. Partly because of the throbbing headache and overall discomfort that I already felt, but hugely because of the warm minty scent of Shohei Ohtani. 

“Jesus, you’re burning up!”

“What are you doing here?” I said, struggling in his grip, his face resting on the curve of my neck. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“You don’t text someone ‘at least i’ll die happy today knowing that my last meal was shoyu ramen’ and then not fucking reply after.” We were still standing by the entrance, his face now angled towards me, a look of concern or anger mixed in his face, I couldn’t tell. My cerebral cortex functions seemed to have shut down after witnessing this unexpected tenderness. 

“Medicine knocked me down cold.” I shrugged weakly. 

Shohei pulled me into the bedroom and tucked me back in, apologizing for his intrusion, putting down plastic bags of what seemed to be groceries on the kitchen counter, and went back to lightly scolding me for proper texting etiquette to family and friends, to anyone really. That my dark humor doesn’t translate well in messages and that I could have really died and people would think I’m joking but really, he got so scared that he went here as fast as he could.

I don’t remember much but in between fever dreams and my ibuprofen haze, I faintly remember the savory taste of rice porridge exploding in my mouth, the constant dabbing of a cold towel on my face, neck and chest, sometimes, my back, too; the smell of rubbing alcohol and a large, gentle, almost loving touch. 

I don’t remember much but in between waking up in the darkness and stone-cold silence, I remember soft forehead kisses until I drifted back to sleep; of big strong arms enclosing me into a big embrace, as if to tell me, you can put your guard down now. you are safe here. 

I don’t remember much from coming in and out of slumber, but I remember thinking: wouldn’t it be nice if this wasn’t a dream?

======================================

Reset

In the end, I quit sports media on my own volition and got into a friend’s ceramics house. I have always had a thing for ceramics and sculpting as early as college, where I had met my then-professor and now friend–who happens to be the owner of mentioned ceramics house. She had always praised me and encouraged me to join her when she first opened the shop, but as someone who had musings for writing at the time, I politely declined and pursued, you guessed it, journalism. 

I’ve always been good at writing, no doubt, from the way professors always had a good word for me, but I always seem to get into the wrong places every time. Time moves fast if you’re a journo, if you’re slow, then the news is rehashed news, it would just be a late-night recap at a midnight slot that no one is ever awake to watch. 

Here, inside her shop, it was quiet, and time moved slowly. I can get into my laziest clothes and no one bats an eye. I can finally retire my stilettos and straight cut blazers. 

It was all so going well. The customers were always mid-twenties who got interested in our social media marketing of creating your own mugs and other ceramics and always came in in groups, duos, and solos. 

Slowly, I realized that not everyone gets to the places they want. Even when you work blood and sweat for it. Not all were built like, say, Shohei Ohtani, whose talent was recognized early and afforded him an automatic slot in the big leagues.

Some are born to be big icons and some, like the rest of us, are meant for smaller, softer spaces. I get that now. It finally felt like I was in the right place and pace. 

All this positivity and good timing felt all too good to be true and been proven accurate when the scandal blew up. 

Shohei Ohtani photographed exiting his LA apartment with a woman in his arms.

Shohei Ohtani’s rumored girlfriend receives backlash from fans: READ MORE

EXCLUSIVE: More photographs of Shohei Ohtani and rumored girlfriend driving away in his Porsche

Rumored girlfriend of Shohei Ohtani: Who is She?

When I say it was everywhere, I meant it exploded right in front of our faces like a million confetti, falling and twirling fast. It was unstoppable. It was inevitable.

I felt my limbs go numb when I read the morning news. There in bold and black letters was the headline, my name and a clear photo of me holding Shohei’s arm, smiling. A certain news outlet had gotten juice of us and our secret hideouts and had spread all over social media like wildfire. You know what’s funnier? The media outlet that released this was my previous employer. The same company that asked me to snuff out a controversy. While I had failed to give them the news they wanted, I had unintentionally brought them an exclusive that wrote my entire name–and face–off the map and potentially ruined Shohei Ohtani’s clean record. 

Shohei Ohtani, despite his happy-go-lucky and passive demeanor, was a very serious and straight-laced person. I already knew this in university but I got to see more of this side of him when we had started the fucking thing. Even though I had clearly told him that I didn’t want any strings attached, it was unavoidable to give and receive bits and pieces of each other when we’re not naked. 

I  did enjoy talking to Shohei under the sheets. His ingenious ideas and the way he talked about the things he adored spilled all over him, like afternoon sunlight streaming in between curtains, making way even through the small spaces to cast his light. I basked into this warmth as much time allowed me, because who knows when I can experience the glow of his presence again after all the chaos. 

He was exactly like the golden hour: a warm afternoon orange luminescence that usually only stays for ten to fifteen minutes a day. If you wait too long to look up, he disappears quickly as he goes, leaving only the faint orange, yellow and pink hues chasing after him before the black of the night takes over you. 

Well, now the fairytale has run its course and the sun has set to announce that golden hour is over. Night has finally fallen on me and I’m feeling scared and alone.

The first thing I did was to grab as much stuff as I could and put them all in my luggage and filed for an indefinite leave. 

As if like clockwork, my phone rang and saw Shohei’s name on the caller ID. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. What could I possibly say to him? That I used him just for the clicks and the views? That after all this time we spent together, he would realize that I am still the same despicable, scathing piece of garbage who’d trample on anyone just for a few cents?

So I don’t answer. Even when he calls back again and again and leaves me twenty or more messages by the hour. I turned my phone off. The latest message from Ohtani coming up on the notifications bar read, “Where are you?” before the screen flashed to black. 

I have nothing but my pride left. I’d like to keep it that way.  In such a way, I was embarrassed, too. I thought I finally had something to brag about. A job that I actually liked and enjoyed, a peaceful mind, and the possibility of liking a guy who had shown me nothing but kindness. 

And because I couldn’t handle all of this, I handled it like I have always handled things: I ran away like a coward. 

I rode a bus without reading its destination card and let it drive me away as far as it could, to someplace where no one knew me or Shohei Ohtani, or had any idea about the news. 

The bus drove away and I never looked back. 

================================

Waiting Until My Spring Comes Again: Shohei’s POV

Just like that I lost her. She wasn’t even mine to begin with. 

When the news broke out, I was so furious that I wanted to drive to the news outlet that published the article and give them a piece of my mind. I knew my blind rage would have done more damage so I didn’t.

Instead, I looked for her and wanted to let her know that whatever happens, I won’t drop her just like that. That I’m willing to acknowledge the rumors and make it official, if she wanted to. 

I’ve always been open to the idea of taking it to the next level with her but every time I broached the subject, she would change the topic, get into a foul mood, or try to pick a fight with me. Which I found endearing. She’s so adorable when she pouts. And when she pushes her luck thinking a five foot four girl like her can withstand someone as tall as me. 

I just can’t help but laugh and feel a flutter in my stomach. She’s someone who has been adorable and held a special corner in my heart. 

Y/N’s face was so expressive and whatever emotion she was in it would always be evident on her face. When she’s happy, a dimple on her cheek shows up. When she’s feeling sad or down, she’d look downcast and would prefer that you leave her alone. When she’s thinking about something deep, she would chew on her lower lip and always had a blank almost unfocused stare. Despite her many faces, I’m sure as hell that I love all of them. I wanted to be by her side when all this shit happened, I wanted to see which face she was making. Is she pissed like I was? Is she sad? I wouldn’t know. The moment her number didn’t connect after I had tried reaching her, I already knew that she was avoiding me. 

I lost count of how many messages I had sent her, of how many missed calls and voicemails I left her. She was unreachable. She gave me her spare key so when I tried visiting her apartment, it was empty. 

She was gone. 

And only the traces of her lingered in her apartment. Her unwashed mug with leftover stale coffee was on the kitchen counter, specks of lipstick staining the mouth. Dirty clothes hanging on her bathroom door, forgotten and unwashed. The peachy scent of her purifier that always latches on to her clothes whenever we go out. Her unread books on her coffee table, some dog eared and annotated. 

Everything that I love about her is here except for her and I miss her. 

For the next couple of days, I dodged the media and focused on training, playing and practicing. Those three over and over again. I tried to not think about her and lose sleep because of her. An athlete’s wellbeing is connected to quality sleep. 

But she was everywhere I went. Pieces of her were scattered all over the places I avoided, and it was my fault really, for bringing her to places we usually hid. For hoping that someday, the secrets we hid would be our stories to tell. Now I just let her memories rot inside my heart, where she should be. 

I thought it would be easier when you just let it slip by but the more days that passed without seeing her, the more I feel a gnawing pain in my heart. She had sucked all my sunlight and took it all away with her. 

I want her back. 

=====================================

My Answer is You

Eleven days. It took me nine days to realize running away was a bad idea. 

When I first got off the bus, I thought the place looked familiar. Turns out, I rode the bus to my hometown, to the very south and the last bus stop until it turned around to go back to the city. 

When I appeared in front of my mom–the first time in a long time–she had immediately said, “Did something in the city?”

The moment she asked, I broke down in tears. She shushed and consoled me while I cried like a little kid. Like the way I had bawled to her when my first boyfriend broke up with me, or when my love birds died from illness, the other from loneliness. 

It feels like I would die of loneliness, Mom. I had said.

Did he really say that? Did he tell you that it’s over? She cooed.

I was embarrassed to admit to my mom that no, Shohei had never told me anything because I had shut him out even before I could give him the chance. But what if that call was already the end of it all? What if answering his call meant exactly what I had thought. That would shatter me more. 

So, no, Mom, you can call your daughter a coward but in her heart, it’s all over. 

The next forty-eight hours at home was a blur. After feeding me with what feels like a day’s worth of homemade dishes, she made me wash the dishes, clean my old room, and the living room as well. And when that wasn’t enough, she made me go with her to the night market and bought whatever seafood she could find to feed me. 

Is this what you did when Dad left? I wanted to ask her. Did you go around acting as normal while nursing a wounded heart? Did you go all through that facade just to show me that you were strong for the both of us?

She had her back to me, her hands pale and creased with age, showing signs of passage of time and her hardwork to put me to school. I know she was trying to make me busy to keep my mind off of Shohei. I’m not sure if she fully understands the scandal but she was trying her best to keep my head above the water. Probably just like how she always did. 

I wish I was strong like you, Mom. 

On the fourth and fifth day, she had let me work under the sun harvesting corn. Which I absolutely despised. I had to wear sun hats and these jumpers to cover myself from the heat. 

“It’s cheap labor for letting you stay and eat my food,” she said when I complained. “Tomorrow, you’ll help me sell these at the market.”

As the days grew idly by, I’ve grown more accustomed to rising early and eating less meat and more vegetables. I willingly went out of the sun more to do housework, like hanging clothes, watering Mom’s plants, however, I was still not willing to harvest her vegetables, which she made me do a lot. When I say a lot, it means everyday since then. 

On the eleventh morning, I woke up earlier than usual and found my mom already awake. She busied herself with a cup of coffee. 

“Good morning, mom.” I yawned, grabbing my own mug. 

“After breakfast, pack your things and go back to the city.” She said quietly.

“Huh?” I’m not sure I heard her right. Is she kicking me out?

She pushed today’s newspaper into my hands and pointed at an article. An article shows a picture of Shohei smiling at the camera, behind him was a framed candid photo of me turning my head just in time when the camera clicked, I was wearing a sleeveless shirt, a shawl draped over my shoulders, and the wind blowing my hair and covering my face slightly. Just by looking at the photo, it looked like a time when Shohei and I drove to the beach. He had brought his camera and took a lot of photos. 

The article said, “Portfolio on Love: Shohei Ohtani’s Photographs Displayed for A Cause.”

“....and when the powerhouse athlete gets a day off, he plays around his camera and takes photos of anything, everywhere. He reveals Insider Today that for the first time ever, he is displaying his portfolio to the public at the Grand City Museum starting today until the 31st of the month, with the theme of “hello, love, are you there?”

“...’I don’t know how else to define love but this. I hope when the public sees this, they will instantly know that my photographs are a reflection of my love,’ he said.

“When asked if this was a confirmation to the rumors flying around recently, he just smiled sadly and said, "I'm hoping that this answers everyone’s questions, especially hers.”

“If your face is plastered on all of the newspapers, it wouldn’t make sense to stay here longer.” Mom said after a while. She had finished her breakfast and took them away to the sink.

“It doesn’t end well if you’re too afraid, my darling.” she said, not looking at me. “To love and to be hurt is to be brave. If it doesn’t work out after facing him, then by all means. Come home. My doors are always open for you. And I will feed you rice cakes while you harvest my corn.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. She wasn’t a hugger but welcomed my hug and patted me on the shoulders. “Now go, before all the chismosas wake up and corners you.”

I packed my bags and left home, my heart pieced back together. It was not wrong to go home and seek shelter. What I did wrong was leaving Shohei all alone when he took most of the fall. 

Five hours, one taxi ride, and a ten minute walk later, I arrived at the city museum, nervous, anxious, feeling a little lightheaded and hesitant. I wiped my sweaty palms and got inside. 

It was not as packed as I had expected, probably because it was a little over after lunch, though there was still a relatively big crowd overall. 

When I stepped into the hall featuring Shohei’s displays, I felt a surge of emotion. It was a collection of all the photographs of his loved ones. In a black and white collection, he had photographed his parents holding hands while walking in the snow, a photo of his dog sleeping idly on his couch, a photo of the football stadium in a wide angle shot, showing Ippei and the rest of his teammates playing a warm up game before practice. 

When I turned to a corner, that’s when I saw it. There were multiple frames hanging intricately on one side, showing all of the photos he took of me. One during university days, where I was showing him a strangely large eggplant during our photo walks at the market. There was another with me looking at him angrily for reasons I couldn’t remember, and a more recent one, in the middle, where he was holding my hand while I walked forward, back facing the camera. 

On the metal plate below were words that read in cursive: “2009–present. Moments of love that I hold dear.”

At that moment, tears had started rolling down my cheek and I couldn’t help but sob. The onlookers nearby started moving away, probably weirded out by the sudden burst of emotion over some piece of art.

They weren’t just pieces of art. These were moments when Shohei and I were together and maybe realized that it was love.

By then, someone on my left offered a handkerchief and I gingerly took it, wiping my tears-strewn face. I muttered an apology for ruining the fabric.

“This is not the first time someone cried in front of my photographs. Some were absolutely heartbroken after seeing them.” a man’s voice said. And that reeled me back as I turned around and saw Shohei standing in front me.

“I knew this would lure you back,” he said, smiling.

His face was a little gaunt and tired. He had dark circles around his eyes that I’ve never seen before. I could only look at him and he looked back. I had so many things I wanted to say to him, so many things I wanted to explain but he spoke first and said:

“Did you get a tan?” he started, raising an eyebrow.

“I-I was harvesting corn!” I said, covering my face with both hands. I didn’t even have the time to put on makeup or a swab of lipstick and that’s the first thing he notices.

He took my hands and held them tightly against his chest. “No one looks this beautiful even after harvesting corn.”

“Shut up,” I said looking away.

He tipped my chin and held my face. “Let’s start again, shall we?” 

I raised an eyebrow in question.

“Hi, my name is Shohei Ohtani. I’m an athlete and an amateur photographer sometimes. I’ve been in love with the girl in the photographs since forever.”

I managed a smile and laced my hands around his neck. “Hi, I’m a ceramics maker and sometimes, a farmer, you should see the corn I harvest. You look so familiar. I think you look like my future boyfriend.”

His eyes perked up and laughed at our silly little game. He went in for a kiss and I obliged, feeling safe and brave in his arms.

Let them take the damn photographs and write the articles all they want, but they could never take my sunshine away ever again. 

[nicoline1998enilocin]

The good, the bad and the loopy

PAIRING | Husband!Chris Evans x Wife!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.1K

SUMMARY | You and Chris have been married for a few years but can't seem to start your lifelong dream of having a family. When you go to the doctor's office to find out what's going on, you hear the news no person ever wants to hear: You can't get pregnant. This news hits you hard, but you have your fantastic husband by your side to help you through this in every way you need.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Talk about infertility, fainting/collapsing, mentions of a panic attack, swearing, Reader is a bit loopy from a head injury and medicine.

A/N | This has been requested by @cevansbaby-dove and dedicated to @cutedisneygrl for the tough time they're going through. I am extremely honored to be asked to write such a thoughtful piece like this, and I wish everyone who goes through this all the strength they need to come out stronger on the other side! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Chris Evans Masterlist

You are at the doctor's office for your umpteenth appointment to discover what's happening with your body. Or Chris'. Either way, something's going on, and you are desperate to find out what because the two of you haven't been able to get pregnant yet.

It has been nearly four years since you and Chris got married, and your wish to start a family of your own has only grown stronger this entire time.

''Are you okay, Pumpkin?'' Chris asks, and that's when you're pulled from your thoughts; you zoned out after the doctor said 'infertile' because you couldn't bring yourself to anything else he said.

''I- I'm not, sorry. I have to go,'' you say as tears well up in your eyes, and you run out of the room and quickly outside, needing fresh air in your lungs. Your mind is going into overdrive, and it's all too much, so you collapse as soon as you set foot outside.

Those past few years are catching up with you, and Chris is right behind you but not fast enough, so you fall on the ground and hit your head hard.

''Fuck!'' he curses loudly as he sees you fall to the ground, and within no time, he's by your side.

''Pumpkin? Please say something,'' he says, trying to see if you're conscious, but you made a pretty nasty fall, and a few nurses are coming to your rescue, and a doctor from the ER of the hospital.

''What happened?'' the doctor asks, and Chris is panicking because you're not responding, and he can't do anything, making him feel useless right now.

''Sir? Can you tell me what happened?'' the doctor tried again, and he snapped out of it.

''We had an appointment, and she got the news that she's infertile, so she ran outside, and the last thing I know is that she collapsed and hit her head… Please tell me you're doing everything possible to save her; I can't lose her!'' Chris says, panic taking over again at the thought of what you're going through.

''Alright, we'll take her inside and care for her. You can wait in the waiting area of the ER while we're checking her out, and as soon as you can see her, a nurse will get you,'' the man said again, and Chris agreed.

While seated in the waiting room, he fixed his gaze on the door you had been wheeled through. The second those doors opened, and you were back, he was by your side again.

You're awake but still loopy from the fall, but he didn't mind. All Chris needed to know is if you're okay.

''Hi, Pumpkin,'' he says as he's sitting by your bed again, and the doctor left the two of you alone for now.

''I like you. Do you have a girlfriend?'' you ask him, with a goofy smile as if he is the most beautiful thing on this earth, and honestly, he is to you.

''I have a wife, actually,'' he says. ''She's the most thoughtful, amazing, caring, sweet, and loving person I know. And she makes the best cookies I've ever tasted.''

''Oh, I like chocolate chip cookies! And I like you. Maybe you need to leave her and come home with me; I make better cookies,'' you say, and Chris can't help but laugh at your comments, knowing you won't remember any of this later on.

''Hm, I don't know. My wife is perfect already, so I don't think I can leave her. But I can settle for a kiss if you'll have me,'' he offers, and your eyes widen.

''Don't tell her, okay? It's our little secret,'' you say, and Chris smiles at your loopiness right now.

''It's our secret, I promise,'' he says, placing two fingers under your chin to lift it a little while he leans down to you. When your lips touch, your heartbeat rises quickly, and the monitor goes wild, making you laugh at the kiss.

''See? I told you I like you,'' you say when he breaks the kiss.

''It's a good thing that I like you too, but this will always be our secret, okay?'' he asks, and you agree softly. You're getting sleepy, and Chris lets you rest for a while, ensuring you strengthen enough to go home in a few days.

When it's finally time to go home, Chris is there to pick you up after leaving for a few hours to get the house for you to come home. He also made you a little care package to welcome you home.

He got a basket to use for your blankets once it's empty, a new thick blanket to add to your growing collection, flannel pajamas with flamingos on them, two pairs of fuzzy socks, your favorite tea, three books from your Amazon wishlist, a new Starbucks tumbler, and a gift card to go along with it for when you're all better.

''Hey there, Pumpkin!'' he says when he's coming to pick you up, and you cheer up when you hear Chris' voice, and the nurse immediately notices the change in demeanor.

''So, you're the husband I've been hearing about all this time?'' she says with a knowing smile, and he nods.

''The one and only!'' he says as he walks into the room, giving you a soft kiss on your head.

''I got you a care package when you're home, so you can just relax and enjoy that for the time being,'' he says, and your interest is immediately piqued.

''Did I get new pajamas?'' you ask, and when he nods, you get a smile from ear to ear.

''He always gets me pajamas when I've been in the hospital for a few days,'' you tell the nurse, who can't do anything other than laugh at your comment.

''Well, you shouldn't end up here too often in that case; otherwise, he runs out of pajamas to buy for you!'' she jokes, and when she finishes checking you over, you're released and ready to go home.

''Alright, let's get you out of here so you can relax for a while,'' Chris says, and he helps you up and out of the hospital.

''Thank you for being by my side through all of this. I'm so sorry this happened,'' you sigh when you sit in the car, and Chris takes your hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly.

''None of this is your fault, Pumpkin. Please, don't ever say that again because there is nothing to apologize for. I love you so much; I can't even explain how much. With you by my side, I'm the happiest I've ever been, and we can figure out the next steps when we're ready. Right now, it's you, me, and Dodger, which is more than I ever thought I would ever have. Never forget that,'' he says, and the tears are welling up in your eyes again.

''I love you too, Chris. More than you'll ever know,'' you say, lifting his hand to your lips and kissing his knuckles before looking out the window and just thinking about nothing for a while.

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

There is a curse in me that will not sleep (and a home in you that will not leave)

Day 1 of Thank You, Haikyuu - event masterlist here

pairing: hinata shouyou x reader (gn) x kageyama tobio

length: 7.6k

genre: fairytale au !! fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: very vaguely beauty and the beast inspired, a bit of miscommunication but it's all resolved in the end, I know it's angsty but I promise there's a happy, comforting ending and everybody ends up alright, basically just a lot of emotional stress but that's my trademark by now

a/n: woooow ok au week has officially begun !! I am still kinda scrambling to get all of these finished in time ahaha but this first one is monumentous so I hope everyone enjoys <3

tags: @love-and-lore

It's not often that you see Hinata Shouyou this way, weary and sullen, with his brows furrowed and his gaze turned down. It looks wrong on him, like he's wearing someone else's face - someone else problems. So, of course, you throw the rag you'd been using over your shoulder and flip the open sign by the window of the tavern, quietly sending your barback home for the evening as you make your way over to Shouyou.

He's so distracted by whatever's going on in his mind, so wrapped up in the heaviness of running a town like this that he doesn't even notice your presence until you tap your knuckles on the wood of the bar next to him. 

"Did you want a refill?" You offer gently. Shouyou just blinks, spinning on his stool to see the empty tavern before turning back to you.

"You're closed. I should go, I don't want to bother - why isn't anything cleaned or put away? Where's that new barback you hired?" You laugh at his jumble of words - the way his mind bounces around is nothing new to either of you and serves as a comfort that he isn't too far gone right now. You take his cup away from him despite his gentle protests, frowning as he lets you peel his fingers off of it so that you can dump out his ale, serving him a new, fresh pint.

"I sent him home," you say easily. "There isn't much to do tonight, I can take care of it myself."

"You work too hard."

"What were you thinking about?" Shouyou shoots you his best attempt at a scathing look when you dodge his comment, but he turns into such a lovesick puppy when you're around that the effect of it falls short. You merely cross your arms and raise your brows as you wait for him to speak.

"I'm… worried," he sighs eventually, shoulders sagging in defeat as he admits it.

"Cleary," you quip back gently, moving to begin wiping down tables. "What about, though?"

"Did you know they're raising taxes again?" He says quietly. You sigh and pause your cleaning, rolling out the tension in your shoulders - or trying to.

"I thought you had some say in that?" You ask. Shouyou scowls into his cup.

"This may be my town to look after, but I'm only a nobleman. When the royal family demands it, even I have to obey." You hum in understanding as you throw your rag onto the bar and move to begin hauling benches up and onto the tables. Shouyou makes an alarmed, disbelieving sort of sound and shoots to his feet to gently shoo you away, picking up benches in your place.

You roll your eyes, of course, making a big show of huffing and mumbling under your breath about how you can do it yourself. He just smiles in that gentle way of his and you know that the heat in your face and the honest care in his eyes as you move to put up the small chairs, instead, give away the show of it all.

Hinata Shouyou is in love with you because you let him be - desperately against your better judgment. 

"We've dealt with raised taxes before, Shouyou," you say quietly. "We'll be ok."

"For how long?" He snaps back, holding his hands up in surrender when you shoot him a look. "I just mean that there's a limit. I'm worried about… well, I'm worried about the whole town. There's only so much the people can take."

"So what will you do?" You ask as he puts up the final bench and lets you usher him back to his seat at the bar - the only chair you'd left available. 

"I'm… going to talk to the prince." That makes you pause, eyes wide as you stare at him.

"No you're not," you say quickly. Shouyou looks at you with a care that rattles you, an apologetic sort of love showing on his face.

"He's going to help me… he has to. It's the only option I have." You sigh at Shouyou's words and grip the edge of the bar.

"People are warned away from that castle for a reason, Shouyou," you say quietly. "The king banished his son there for a reason. The forest is impassible for a reason."

"I know, my beloved." You don't even have the heart to chastise him for calling you that when he pulls himself to his feet and sweeps his way around the bar to stand in front of you, the silk of his shirt shimmering under the dull, flickering candlelight. His hands grip yours firmly and he pulls them up to press kisses across your palms, making you scoff and turn your head away. The gold of his rings are cool against your skin and the jewels in them shine, reflecting their colours onto the stains of your apron. 

"I must," Shouyou goes on to say. "I must do what needs to be done to take care of this town… to take care of you."

"You will not die stupidly for me." Your voice warbles as you speak and you curse yourself for it. Shouyou just smiles, keeping his fingers intertwined with your own so that he can swing your connected hands back and forth between the two of you.

"I will not," he says firmly. "I will leave at first light tomorrow and be home by dusk. You'll see. Before the flowers on your mantle wilt, I will be back here with you, beloved."

It takes two days for the petals on your flowers to start curling and falling, two days without Shouyou's return before you've driven yourself mad enough to go after him, entrusting the tavern to your young, nervous barback and setting off on your horse. It takes another day entirely to maneuver through the dense wood that separates the town from its wretched, looming castle, the trees thick and sturdy and blanketing the forest floor in darkness. 

You wonder, in a crawling, frightened sort of way, if Shouyou's out here somewhere in the depths - if you'll stumble over his body being taken by the forest. 

But it does not happen. Nothing happens until you stumble, finally, onto the castle, dark and crumbling, with ivy crawling up the walls and moss covering the stone. Once, you can tell, it was beautiful, but that age of it seems to have died out long ago and the remnants stand haunting and silent until the end of time.

The silence, of course, you test as you shove open the great doors and stumble into the vast, arched entryway. There are no soldiers, no footmen or maids or anyone. There is only you and the silence and the sliver of light from the open doorway. 

Maybe it was the nervous whining of your horse outside, her hoof pawing at the ground, that made enough noise to draw attention. Maybe it was your own fault with the way you pushed open the doors. Maybe it was - well, it doesn't matter, you suppose, as the prince himself stomps down a spiralling, ornate staircase and towards you, regal cape flying out behind him and scowl clear on his face.

"Go," he spits angrily, the fury rolling off of him like thunder as he points out the open door behind you. You remember, somewhere far away, of the stories you've heard - of his endless pride and selfish ego, of the day he was banished by his parents, sent to live in exile while his sister was groomed to take the throne instead of him.

You should leave, you think haltingly. You should run and remind yourself how lucky to are to have a life to flee back to, you should -

"Don't be rude," you snap instead. The prince, for what it's worth, merely stares at you and holds his hand to his chest, recoiling from the way you slapped his pointed finger away from you. "I'm looking for someone."

"There's no one here," he says back, voice heated and loud. You cross your arms.

"Perhaps not now, but he would have passed through. It's Hinata Shouyou, the nobleman presiding over the town -"

"I know who my own nobleman is." Tobio''s voice is thunderous, echoing in the otherwise empty entrance hall. You snap your mouth shut for just a moment. 

"Perhaps then, you'd be helpful enough to know where he is." Surely, you shouldn't speak to royalty like this, you think distantly. But surely, an exiled prince living in a crumbling castle of a time long gone, a living ghost residing in a relic of the past, cannot threaten as much harm as you've been led to believe. 

"He is gone," he says simply before turning, his cape swinging elegantly to hit you across the knees, causing you to stumble as you chase after him.

"When? Where? Wh -" Your incessant questions have Tobio turning from halfway up the staircase, scowling down at you where you skid to a halt and look up at him.

"He, smarter than you perhaps, left when he realized that his trip was fruitless. You will, as well," he says stubbornly. You begin up the stairs again and he tips his head back and sighs.

"He never returned home," you shout back stubbornly, your voice matching the volume of his, ricocheting off the stone around you. "He could be dead because of you, lost somewhere out there and gone and -"

But not even your voice, loud as it is, is enough to drown out the crack of thunder outside, booming and quaking as dark stormclouds stir over the horizon, beginning to blanket the land in darkness. 

"The sun is beginning to set," Tobio says rather quietly. "Anyone would die trying to cross the wood at night." You turn to face the open doors at his words, your eyes wide and jaw tight at the darkening sky and the onslaught of rain that begins over the valley. Your hand grips the bannister of the staircase as you stare, as you consider the possibility of dying tonight alone in the wood, of never going home and seeing daybreak again. 

"The valley will flood," you say quietly, eyes still trained on the darkness outside. "The wood will turn to a marsh and the landslides will block the trails. I will not make it home tonight." 

"I am not so fool as to be unaware of the weather," the prince says haughtily, making your hand tighten on the gold leaf of the bannister in anguish. You wonder painfully, for a moment, if this is what happened to Shouyou, if he was sent to his death so uncaringly, as well.

But then Tobio sighs like he's been burdened by something great and turns to continue up the stairs.

"A room will be prepared for you here. You will leave at first light when the rain stops."

You realize at dinner that night, that perhaps the prince is not as alone as you'd all thought - the realization comes to you as you shift in your plush velvet seat at the large banquet table, servers appearing on either side of you to load rich, delicate food onto your plate. 

But something sits heavily in your heart as you think back to the way he'd demanded that you dine with him, the way his eyes stared hollowly at the long, empty table. It must be a curse, you think, to have such space in your heart and home and no one to fill it. You wonder if you could even tell yourself you have a home at all in such conditions.

But then you think of Shouyou, of his beaming smile and kind eyes and soft, firm hands, and the kindness you've been fostering is tampered out again. 

"How could you not help him?" You say abruptly, letting your cutlery clatter onto your plate as you sit back in your chair.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Your people are suffering and you sit here living in lavish solitude and turning away the one person who was brave enough to ask you for help."

"Asking is an interesting way of putting it," Tobio says dryly. You falter, unsure of his meaning and letting your words die out.

"What… exactly happened here when Shouyou came to you?" You ask eventually.

"It is none of your concern." He looks away stubbornly, the candlelight illuminating a faint dusting of blush across his cheeks. It must be from the wine, you tell yourself. Nothing more.

"He is my concern," you snap. The prince stares at you, then, something deep and looming in his eyes that you can't place - something that makes you shift again as his gaze bores into you.

"What a life you live, having someone to make you act in such a way," he says softly. You splutter out a defence about how you're friends and look away. The shadows of the pillar candles flicker and splashes of light dance over your faces, like the golden heat is trying desperately to breathe life into this cursed place.

"You have not told me why you will not help," you say in lieu of addressing his comment and his disbelief at your denial.

"And I will not," he responds stubbornly. Your eyes narrow as you glare at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You're lying." Perhaps, you think desperately as he slams his fist against the abruptly, you've hit a nerve. Perhaps Shouyou was right all those times he told you that this mouth of yours will get you into trouble.

But then the prince sighs and murmurs something about this being his second tiresome overnight guest and you perk up, locking onto him again.

"The second? You mean -"

"Yes, of course, your beloved Shouyou stayed for far too long - days, in fact. What did you think happened to him?" Tobio says cavalierly. You huff and run a hand through your travel-dampened, tangled hair - much to Tobio's displeasure.

"Why didn't you lead with that?" You snap. "He was probably on his way back to me as I left - he's probably arriving home now and thinks I'm dead - or worse, stuck here with you." That comment, you think mildly, probably wasn't necessary, but the scowl on the prince's face is reward enough. 

"Then he's home," he spits the word. "And he's safe. There is nothing to be concerned about." Tobio says it like it's final, like there's no ill will that could befall the two of you now, but as you look out the stained glass window toward the night sky and the storm that stretches endlessly onward through flashes of white-hot lightning, you fear that the worst is yet to come. 

As Shouyou stands in your empty tavern, listening to your barback stammer on about how you'd left to go after him and haven't returned yet, he thinks that there is no pain like this, no fear like what he feels now, knowing that you're alone in that cursed wood because of him.

It's begun raining, thunder crashing in the sky and lightning striking down from above and illuminating the horizon as it stretches over the valley. There is no way you'll survive a night in the wood like this, Shouyou realizes as he stumbles to a bench, sagging down onto it and putting his head in his hands. There is no hope on a night like this. 

So he stands abruptly, declaring that he's going after you, when the barback all but throws himself in front of the door to stop him.

"You'll die out there," he says earnestly. Shouyou's hands tremble as he clenches them into fists so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

"They could already be dead," he snaps.

"And if they aren't, then you're just killing yourself." Shouyou tries to remember the name of the trembling boy in front of him. Yamaguchi, he thinks you'd said once. But then he thinks of you again and a crash of thunder rattles the glasses on the bar.

"There's no use in both of you dying tonight," Yamaguchi says quietly, his voice shaking as his eyes grow wet. Shouyou sighs and puts a hand on the boy's shoulder gently, a comforting sort of apology as his shoulders sag and defeat takes hold of him.

"At first light, then," he says stiffly, and a flash of lightning illuminates the gaunt fear on his face. Yamaguchi finds himself wishing that you'd never left home at all. 

That night, you're aware, should've been a fitful sleep with the large bed chamber and silken sheets and mounds of pillows that you're surrounded with. After dinner that night, Tobio had had you well taken care of - a hot bath drawn for you and fresh clothes laid out, the fireplace lit and glowing golden and the bed given fresh linens.

But there had been something eating at you all night, something akin to guilt clawing at you from the inside as you thought of Shouyou out there, lost and without you, while you luxuriate in bed. When you wake from your turbulent night - from nightmares of the nobleman that had you tossing and turning, all hopes of returning to him are stamped out by the darkness that still swirls overhead.

The storm, you realize when you run to the large, ornate window, is still raging, darkening the endless sky and wreaking havoc over the land. There will be no returning home for you today, and there will be no safety found in Shouyou's arms.

Three days, the cursed storm lasts, raging overhead and causing the ancient castle to shutter and sway. Three days of you trapped in this stone maze with Tobio, trailing after him to ask why, why, why couldn't he bring himself to be a good person just once? It's late in the evening, on the third night, when the two of you find yourselves having cracked open a bottle of wine and sitting on the lavish, soft rug that lays in front of the great fireplace in his lounge. It had taken some convincing - and some drinks to get him down there, but the wine has begun flowing easily and Tobio, you realize delightedly, is almost relaxed. 

He softens a bit more, much to his own displeasure, when you sway with how tipsy you are, leaning into him so closely that he can feel your breath on his lips. But then he looks down at you and the sparkling mirth in your eyes and he finds them clear and alert - not nearly as hazed from the wine as he'd expected to see.

"You're drunk," he murmurs anyway. You just smile.

"No more than you," you point out, letting your gaze flicker down to his lips for just a moment. It's enough, you learn quickly, to make him lean into you, closer and closer and melding his body to yours.

It's the wine jumbling his own thoughts, Tobio assures himself, that leads him to close the gap, pressing his lips to yours and tangling a hand in your hair. He makes a small, whining noise somewhere in the back of his throat, something burning in him at the touch of you against him - at the touch of something living against the ghost that he's become. 

When you part, your chests heaving a bit too much and your lips both kiss bitten and reddened, he sighs and tips his head back to thump against the settee that you're both leaning against. 

"No wonder the two of you are so in love when you're both so ready to use your wiles to get what you want from me," Tobio murmurs, his eyes closed enough that he doesn't notice you staring at him.

"What does that mean?" You ask breathily. He snaps his head up and looks at you with wide eyes.

"Nothing," he says hastily. "I don't know what I was saying."

"Oh my god," you say bluntly, seemingly ignoring his assurances that he was simply talking nonsense because of the wine. "You slept with -"

"It doesn't matter," Tobio all but whines, petulantly screwing his eyes shut and refusing to look at you. You just laugh, though, a loud and honest thing as you pat his shoulder comfortingly. Tobio opens one eye wearily and you're smiling at him gently, not a hint of mocking to be found in your gaze.

"I don't blame you," you shrug. "He's… well, he's Shouyou." Things quiet down significantly at that and you sober noticeably as you look out the window towards the blackened, stormy sky. 

"He will come for you," Tobio says somberly.

"He shouldn't have to," is your simple response.

"Why do you deny him?" Tobio's fingertip traces over your exposed shoulder where your shirt's slipped in your tipsy, giggly state and thinks back to when he gave you the clothes, to when you spluttered and looked away and told him how inappropriate it would be for you to wear his belongings. But you hadn't brought anything with you, as he'd pointed out, and silk often feels nicer than three-day-old cotton.

"He doesn't really love me," your quiet, sullen words make Tobio pause, his fingers freezing on your skin as he considers what you've said. "He asked me to marry me again before he left, you know."

"Again?" Tobio asks breathily, cursing himself for the weak sound of his own voice. You hum in affirmation.

"For the third time, yes." You swirl your wine in your cup as you speak, something lonely and hollow flitting through your eyes that reminds Tobio a nauseating amount of himself.

"Why?" He asks simply, pulling his hand away from you as something clenches in his heart, as something in him aches. It's loneliness, he knows, deep and penetrating. Jealousy, perhaps. 

"He's noble," you say it like it's obvious. "He can't marry someone like me. It's fun, but that's all - like a little bubble of happiness that has to burst one day." You pluck at the rug as you speak, pulling at threads that are worth more than your home. You wonder what home you'll have to return to, after all this.

Tobio, sitting next to you and reeling from your words, can't fathom why you think so lowly of yourself when you look up at him, beautiful and kind and smart as a whip. As you sigh and reach for the wine bottle, topping up your cup and then pouring into his without comment, he wonders what it must be like to find home in someone like you.

Shouyou, as he wades through the forest paths towards the end of the storm, clings desperately to any semblance of home that he once had with you. He's not sure it was worth it to wait until the weather began to clear, although if Yamaguchi had his way, he'd be waiting until the rain slowed even more before setting out. The boy had been near tears again when Shouyou'd announced that he was going now, and by foot so as not to risk his horse's safety. 

He wonders, in a nagging, guilty way, if that boy is about to inherit the life of someone else - if he's about to mourn the people who he's just begun to call home. 

But three days of wondering if you died to try to save him was enough to drive Shouyou to hysteria, pushing him out and into the cold, back towards the towering trees and wall of darkness. As he wades through broken branches and felled trees and tumbling rocks and floods, he thinks about you all the while - about every moment, every fleeting glance.

He thinks about the first time he'd asked you to marry him, earnest and honest and caught up in puppy love. You'd laughed at him then, reminded him that he'd only known you for a week since you'd moved to town and opened the tavern. You'd asked him, at the time, what your favourite flower was, and when he didn't have an answer, you asked how he could possibly know that he wanted to marry you if he didn't even know you.

You'd assumed, of course, that that would be the end of it, that he must have just been some flirt who thought his money and influence earned him the right to toy with who he pleased. But Shouyou is nothing if not persistent, and day after day he appeared by your side, his gaze only growing more lovesick as time wore on.

He thinks, as he slips on a mossy rock and stumbles into knee-deep mud, about the second time he asked you to marry him, a few years after that. You'd hired your barback, much to Shouyou's relief, and you'd chosen a shy young boy who needed coin and a bit of life experience and someone kind to help him get it. He'd watched you help Yamaguchi throughout the day, showing him how to run the tavern, how to pour the ale, how to check to see if the bread was rising well.

Shouyou had looked past you, then, at the vase of orchids that you kept by the counter, at your favourite flowers. He'd gotten them for you days ago, he'd remembered, so it must have almost been time for some new ones. When you'd come over to refill his cup, he'd asked you again to marry him. You'd laughed - again, and told him to ask again when he was sober, pressing a kiss to his cheek and stopping to water your orchids on your way past him.

The third time, of course, was the night before he'd left. He'd stopped by the tavern as the sun began to rise and bathe the town in a dripping, golden glow that stretched beyond the valley and towards the looming wood. Standing next to his horse, he'd let you clutch his hands in yours as tightly as you'd needed to, shushing your worries gently and pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. You were scared for him, notably, in a way that made his heart ache as he realized how foreign the sight of you trembling and nervous was. He'd asked you to marry him again, in that moment, whispering it against your hair as you let your face tuck into the safety of his chest. You'd squeezed his hands tighter at that, and Shouyou braced himself yet again for another no when you'd looked up at him earnestly, instead.

You'd made him promise to come home to you safely. You'd promised that you'd say yes when he returned to you without harm.

Alone in the wood, in the dead of night, slipping on loose rocks and mud, Shouyou desperately wishes he'll get to see you again - that he'll get to hear that yes. But something in him stirs painfully, a worry nagging at his gut. What is he to do, he wonders, without a home anymore? What is he to do without you?

Waking up in the morning with a raging wine hangover and Tobio's arms wrapped around you is certainly a jarring surprise, one that has you shooting up from where the two of you had fallen asleep on the plush rug. He's groaning and throwing a hand over his eyes to block out the light and ward off his headache, you assume, when the realization that light is streaming in through the windows catches your attention. 

The storm, you realize as you look out towards the clear, rolling horizon, is finally passing. You turn to tell Tobio, to announce to him that you can finally return home, when you're faced with him sitting up and leaning back on his hands as he looks out past you towards the shimmering, golden sun that illuminates the crumbling corners of the place he's lived in for so long.

His face, hard and solemn, has you snapping your mouth shut. You both understand the truth - you will leave and he will disappear again, returning to roam the halls of a life that should not belong to the living, eternally alone in this curse of his.

"Tobio -"

"I'll send a messenger ahead," he interrupts you. It's the first time you've said his name, he notices immediately, and it rings through his heart in a painful, abrupt way. He can't remember the last time someone said his name. He notices, rather painfully, that he'd almost forgotten someone could. "That way your beloved Shouyou will know you're safe and you can wait for the forest paths to be cleared a bit before you leave."

You should disagree, you know - you should fling yourself out the grand front doors and never look back, returning to your sunshine love and the life that you've built for yourself. But you move, instead, to sit on the settee next to Tobio's head and place a hand on his shoulder, agreeing quietly. There is a sadness that pours off of him, oozing onto the floorboards and seeping into your soul. There is something about him that makes you stay, some cursed sort of pull that brings you closer.

You stay by his side more than you should - and you know that, somewhere deep down and ignored. You don't sit opposite him at breakfast, separated by the long banquet table. You sit next to him, letting your hands brush accidentally every now and then as you eat.

"It is wrong," he says quietly, toward the end of the meal. You freeze, the closeness between you feeling sweltering as Tobio points it out. "The raising taxes, the treatment of the people… I know it's wrong."

Oh, you think slowly, right. There is more to this world than the hand that brushes against yours.  

"Then why not change it?" You ask slowly, tilting your head to look up at him. He stares ahead, at the faded family crest on the chipped wall and the dust that's collected on it.

"My family stopped listening to me a long time ago. I am… powerless, these days. There is nothing I could do."

"Oh," you say flatly, letting your hands twist in your lap. You consider that perhaps you should've known that - should've known that someone so cast out would lose any ties, watching them sever over time as the vines climbed higher over his castle walls and sealed him away from the world. "Tobio, I'm sorry -"

"My father is too old to carry the crown these days. He's stepping down… my sister's coronation will be within the month." He says abruptly, moving past your sorrow, your sympathy. You suppose it means nothing to someone whose life is already dead, already mourned for and buried. 

"Will you… go?" You ask hesitantly. He shakes his head.

"Of course not. But I will write. I love my sister, as much as I am capable. It's not enough, I know, but I hope it will be sufficient to sway her. A plea from her brother must mean something, still… and the people do not deserve to suffer by my family's hand." He says it like it's simple, like his words ring with undisputable truth. But it's in your nature to dig up mountains when you find them in your way.

"You are capable of love, Tobio," you say simply, the firmness in your voice making him pause and stare at you intently. "I've seen it." Tobio just scoffs at your words, though, earnest as they are. 

"You don't understand what you're saying," he says, his voice hard. You frown at him as you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms.

"What is it that you think you are? Hm? What is it that you're so afraid of me seeing? I have spent three days with you, Tobio, and you are no more than a man." You say stubbornly. The prince looks at you hard, his eyes dark, striking against the backdrop of the golden sun pouring through the windows and into his life.

"Monsterous things don't often show themselves as monstrous things." Tobio's voice is as icy as he can make it, cold and cutting and sharp. But it wavers, ever so slightly, caught by the voice of a boy who lost everything before he'd even been given a chance to learn how to hold it.

"There is nothing monstrous in you," you respond gently, leaning towards him. He leans back, away from you, away from the light that you pour into him. "You are beloved to me and that is all."

"Stop," he says firmly, squeezing his eyes shut as if your words burn through him. "Don't say that."

"What?" You push. "The truth? Don't say that I love -"

But commotions, you've found, always hit at the worst of times, and a shouting, banging disturbance down in the direction of the entrance hall draws the two of you away from each other. Tobio, for his part, sighs like a knife blade had been lifted from his neck and stands quickly to attend to the issue, leaving you to run after him and through the winding, dark halls.

Shouyou's yelling voice is what greets you when you get closer, the volume of it carrying throughout the castle as the panicked spluttering of the messenger that had been sent out hours ago follows. You nearly trip over yourself rushing to the hall to meet him, to see him looking up at you, dirty and tired and desperate. 

Shouyou meets you at the bottom of the staircase, having gotten over his initial shock of seeing you here and alive and well so that he can crush you into a hug, a hand cupping the back of your head protectively as he holds you against him and buries his nose into your hair.

You hold onto him, of course, gripping onto his shirt as tears blur your vision and wet his collar. He shushes you with all the gentleness that you remember, swaying you back and forth to comfort you as he tightens his arms around you and whispers delicate promises in your ear that he's here, that you're alright and he'll take you home. 

And Tobio… Tobio watches, looks on from the staircase at the two of you coming home to each other and feels the walls closing in on him, feels the gilded, arched ceiling press down, down, deeper into his soul. 

Shouyou pulls away from you just enough to grip your face gently in his hands, tilting your head back and forth so that he can look at you thoroughly and make sure you're unharmed. Fortunately… you're really fine. Three days of lavish living with fine meals and lavender baths have treated you well, and you look up at Shouyou with shining eyes and a bright face.

He looks just past you, then, as if he's finally noticing the prince sweep down the rest of the staircase towards the two of you. He… blushes when their eyes meet and shifts on his feet, but there's a cold, impassive stare on Tobio's face.

"You may stay as long as you need to recuperate after your journey. Then… you may be off. The tax problem will be dealt with." Tobio disappears at that, spinning on his heel and gliding up the stairs, leaving the two of you alone in the vast emptiness of the hall.

You're with Shouyou in the bedroom that you'd begun to call your own later that evening, with him freshly washed and in new clothes and sitting by your side on the settee by the window. You're curled up against him, letting him hold an arm over your shoulder and stroke up and down your arm gently. 

"What happened between you and Tobio?" You ask suddenly, causing Shouyou to freeze against you. He coughs a bit, clearing his throat and shifting as he looks out the window instead of at you. The sun is beginning to set, painting the sky in violets and pinks as it begins to dip below the horizon that stretches on over the valley.

"I… tried to convince him," he says carefully. "And I failed."

"Mhmm," you respond easily, a teasing note entering your voice that makes Shouyou blush. "But you tried really hard, didn't you?"

"I -" he clears his throat again. "I… yes. I did." You laugh at that, relief painting Shouyou's features as you melt further against him and squeeze his hand comfortingly.

"I got wine drunk and made out with him… if knowing that makes you feel better," you shrug. Shouyou sits up so fast that he jostles you, making you grumble as you sit up, too. He stares at you, mouth open in shock for a moment, before tipping his head back and laughing, pulling you into a close hug. 

"He's really not what he's made out to be," Shouyou says quietly, swaying the two of you back and forth where you sit, your legs tangled together on the settee.

"Yea…" you respond, tipping your head back to look up at him somberly. "Some people are like that…" Shouyou looks down at you softly, stroking a hand over your cheek as you peer up at him. He says your name quietly, an earnest sort of prayer given to you as he smooths his thumb over your cheek.

"Shouyou…" you whisper back, pulling yourself closer to him as you grip onto the front of his shirt.

"Will you marry me?"

"…What about Tobio?" Shouyou laughs at your question, letting his head drop to your shoulder and sighing before dropping a kiss to your neck.

"I think that perhaps…" he begins slowly, lifting his head to look at you again, his face serious. "Perhaps our beloved Tobio has been the lonely prince for too long." You smile in a quiet sort of way at Shouyou's declaration, pulling yourself closer to press a gentle, firm kiss on his lips. 

He makes a shocked sort of noise in the back of his throat before pulling you closer, a hand cupping the back of your neck to keep you against him. When you do finally part, he makes a point not to stray too far, resting his forehead against yours and grinning broadly.

"Do you have any idea how many years I've been waiting for you to do that?" He asks breathlessly. You giggle a bit and kiss him again, a quicker, lighter touch of your lips against his.

"Ask me again," you murmur, your lips brushing his.

"Will you marry me?" He's choked up by now, his voice warbling and eyes watery.

"Yes," you respond earnestly. Outside, the sun finally dips below the vast, reaching horizon and drowns the world in darkness, but Shouyou holds you to his chest and presses kisses to your ring finger while the fireplace glows with the heated embers of the evening's flames and the sound of home calls to you. 

The days, admittedly, start to blend after that, with you and Shouyou taking up residence in the castle under the guise of him recovering. He is recovering, you assure yourself, it's just… taking a while. Surely… surely there's nothing else keeping you here, no ghost walking these halls that's drawing you to this life.

It's over breakfast one morning, the three of you taking up space at one end of the long banquet table, when Tobio announces that he's received a letter from his sister. 

"She was… responsive," he says carefully, like the touch of joy seeping into his tone is something that he shouldn't be allowed to hold onto. "It was good to have her hear my pleas. She will be better in our parents' stead. She will be a better leader."

"And you?" Shouyou quips, a challenge rising in his voice. You shoot Shouyou a look, but he's staring determinedly at Tobio, and you're pleasantly surprised to see his gaze matched by the prince.

"It's high time I stepped up and began taking care of my people again," Tobio says firmly, a conviction ringing in his voice that has you smiling softly, reaching to brush a stray hair out of his face. Tobio can't help but soften at the action, taking your hand in his to smooth his thumb over your knuckles and brush against the engagement ring that Shouyou had given you all those nights ago. 

Learning that he'd been keeping it with him, that he'd had the ring on a chain around his neck since the day he first proposed to you… well, you'd been thankful for the bedroom you'd been given that night - for the silk sheets and plush pillows and the privacy of the sprawling corridors outside. 

As Tobio thumbs over your ring, you feel your face heat at the memory of that night, and as you shift in your seat and Shouyou send you a beaming smile, you know that he's smugly aware of what you're thinking of.

"Well," Shouyou says happily. "You may need some help, you know, coming back to your people and learning how to be what they need."

"And you might need some companionship," you chime in. "What, with this big, lonely castle and all." Tobio leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, trying desperately to maintain the stern look on his face - but a blush dusts itself over his cheekbones and a smile twitches on the corner of his lips.

"And what of your beloved tavern?" He asks you.

"There is more to me that is beloved besides the tavern," you say easily, glancing between the two of them. "And besides, Yamaguchi's been doing well enough on his own. He can take care of it while I'm away, and if the forest paths are finally looked after and kept safe, then the journey back and forth isn't so bad. Maybe it's… maybe it's time to move forward in this life a bit, hm?" Tobio sighs at that, letting his shoulders drop as his smile finally breaks through as he thinks of taking a step forward, of being alive once more. Shouyou whistles happily at the sight, leaning back in his chair and grinning.

"You two are getting married, or haven't you forgotten?" Tobio snipes, but there's mirth in his voice as he arches a brow.

"Well," you drawl. "A castle is such a beautiful place to hold a wedding."

"And what a perfect start," Shouyou chimes in. "There's no better way to gain back the people's love than by hosting an event like that. Open your home up to them, let them in."

"Well, sure," Tobio sighs, tipping his head back to look at the arched ceilings, the golden morning light shining in and illuminating the family crest hung on the dining room wall. "After all… this is a home now, isn't it?"

The wedding, of course, is as grand and extravagant as you could've imagined. Tobio'd fixed up the castle for the event, his sister having sent staff to make sure that everything was repaired and polished and restored to its former glory. Tobio was pleased by it, in his own way, tight-lipped and subtle and small about the whole thing. You and Shouyou would never comment on it, would never bring attention to it, but there is a life in Tobio now that wasn't there before - a colour in his cheeks and a shining light to his eyes.

But true to himself, even as he stood at the altar and officiated the wedding, he remained stoic and upright while you and Shouyou held hands and kissed, teary-eyed and trembling. It wasn't until that evening, late into the night when all of the guests had gone home, that the mask began to crack.

It's a privilege, you think as you lay in the master bedroom, to get to see Tobio like this - soft and smiling and laughing once he's really relaxed. By the end of the night, the silk sheets send cool chills across your exposed skin as you lay between your two lovers, Shouyou's hand intertwined with yours so that he can see your ring next to his, shining in the dim, golden light of the fireplace. In turn, you twist the fingers of your other hand through Tobio's matching ring - the one that you'd slipped on quietly during the festivities while the three of you snuck off somewhere private.

There had been chatter at the wedding, of course, about the prince's sudden appearance and the light that begun to fill up the corners of the valley. Even the forest, people whispered, had thinned, ground solidifying into safely travelled paths and creeping vines receding. The air had shifted, the clouds had dispersed, and the sun had risen in its endless way to shine light down to patches of the land that had not felt that warmth in years. It's like time, people began to say, is finally moving in the proper way, and life has been breathed back into the valley.

There's a sort of haze that fills the air surrounding the three of you, a comfortable safety that blankets you as you're tucked between the two of them, skin pressed against skin in the privacy of your home. You giggle at the thought, placing a kiss on Tobio's exposed chest where your face is pressed against him.

"What are you thinking of, my beloved?" Shouyou asks quietly, his voice a hushed whisper in the quiet room. 

"Just that it's nice to be home," you whisper back, your words making Tobio hum in agreement and tighten his arm around your waist.

"It is nice, isn't it?" He says lowly. "To be somewhere… to have someone's that's home."

[ddejavvu]

sooo mei I was reading through your matt murdock ml and stumbled across the mafia one and pleaseee that is so cute, would you ever expand on that au? like maybe r’s flat is broken into and before she can even go to the cops there’s a bunch of matt’s guys there like don’t worry we’ve got it handled and she’s just ???

mafia!matt is the last thing i thought i'd be writing in the year 2024 but i can work with what you gave me <3

--

You're not sure whether you'd consider yourself lucky for escaping the bank unscathed, or unlucky for having been in the bank during an active shooting in the first place. Either way, the entire ordeal leaves you unsettled for weeks. You're bordering on agoraphobic, but food is a must, so you set out to brave the streets of Hell's Kitchen in search of something quick and dirty.

Upon your return, you know you're unlucky. You'd locked the door when you'd left, but evidently that doesn't stop someone who's desperate enough to break into a place that's barely up to code. You stare into the gaping, dark recess of your burgled apartment, noting that several electronics and appliances are out of place, but none of them appear to be missing. Your television is cracked, but you suppose your computer will be a suitable replacement until you can manage to afford a new screen.

You back away from the door just in case there's still someone inside; you're not stupid enough to investigate for yourself. However, the moment you step back, you ram into someone behind you, and your mottled nerves make you nearly shoot out of your skin.

All you can manage is a muffled, 'mmf!' when a hand clamps itself over your mouth, but the voice accompanying the hand is quick to assure you, "Easy, tuts, we're not gonna make it worse. We're with- uh, the cops. Okay? We got a call from the neighbors, 'said they heard someone breakin' in. We've got it handled, alright? Just relax. You can head back inside, that creep is long gone. We'll have someone stand guard outside, got it?"

You're only let go of when your captor deems you calm, but your heart is still racing in your chest when you turn to face him. He doesn't look anything like a police officer, but he does look menacing. He shows you a badge and I.D, and they look authentic enough for your arrythmia to settle.

"Go on," He ushers you towards the door, "Get in there, we'll take care of it from here."

You adjust your grip on your plastic bag of frozen meals, passing a couple other men that are now posted at the front door of your apartment. Each attempts a kind smile at you, and you're glad to shut the door on them once you get inside.

There's a man on your couch.

You don't notice until you flick the light switch on, but he's sitting there, clad in a suit and sunglasses. You shriek, and briefly consider whether or not your frozen ravioli could be used as a suitable projectile.

"Relax," The man stands, an easy smile on his face, one that drips with sympathy, "I'm Matt. I'm here to stand guard."

"Why were you sitting in the dark?!" You demand, now doubting the validity of the police badge you'd seen earlier, regretting the decision to trust these less-than-official men.

"It doesn't matter to me whether it's light or dark," He chuckles, and your face flushes momentarily when you realize what his sunglasses are for.

"Oh. Well- well you're not doing a very good job of making me relax, Matt. I feel like I'm more in danger of you than I am of someone else breaking into my house."

The man's smile is gentle, but not weak, "Sorry. Just go about your business, okay Y/N? We'll replace your damaged property and be out of your hair as soon as we can eliminate the threat.”

"Eliminate...?" You echo cautiously, "How long does that take?"

"Depends. A day. A week. Months, maybe. But this is all for your precaution, Y/N," He stands, making his way over to you and carefully feeling out the broken glass on the floor with the toe of his shoe. He places a hand on your shoulder, "Just trust me, I'm here to help. None of this will ever happen to you again- not on my watch."

[yahoodarling]

Diluc X GN Guardian Angel Reader (Snipbit)

Diluc X guardian reader whos a little late on the whole ‘helping out’ part. Expect some good ol angst from both parties, enthusiastic reader and Diluc in denial. Reader gives off ‘dad thats been absent for your developing years and shows up in your 20s�� vibe. 

Word count: 3k (full fic around 10k)

Warnings: none in this extract but warnings will be added in the final fic

You are holy. You are divine. You are perfection incarnate. You have a duty. 

In your hands held the fate of a mortal, someone desperate and in need of your guidance and as an official of Celestia it is both an honor to guide them and an honor bestowed, to be favored and seen by the gods for their struggles and in turn given the gift that is yourself. Admittedly you filled the application for this position a little late but surely your mortal is just fine as they are, you were just… a little preoccupied is all. You smile as you think of the future journey ahead, a new start of healing and recovery for a poor soul. Your… your new mortal…

Mondstadt, you haven't been here for a while but the smell of fresh brew in the air and tugging of the wind in your hair will always welcome you. You set off to find your dear human, your existence tied to his the moment you fulfilled the proper application of acceptance. He's in the city, a short distance away. The night was crisp, winter is around the corner but with your light you shall guide this mortal through and reach the warmth he so desperately needs. You open the door to a tavern, a further welcome of cheer and joy from its patrons and there standing in such joyous potential is your dear! Crimson hair bundled high, gaze focused and frown evident, such ache surely lies within him. 

“Greetings Diluc of Mondstadt! Its a pleasure to finally meet you!” you speed walk up to the counter and lay on your finest smile, first impressions are important if you'll be spending the rest of his life together. 

He didn't seem pleased with your manner, perhaps you were too much? Either way he sighed, “Right, and what would you like this evening?”

“You~☆”

His frown further lowered and brow crinkled, lines all too familiar with this exchange. 

“Order a drink or get out, i am not accepting courting attempts” 

“Courtship? Oh no no no! Haha you're mine in a different way! I'm here to give you a surprise alright?” You stood up straight, opened your arms out wide to him, beamed a smile as welcoming as possible and with as much joy and enthusiasm as possible declared,

“Diluc of Mondstadt I am your official Guardian Angel! Tremble no longer! Fret no fear for I as one of Celestians chosen have come to bring you peace in your times of need!” 

…

He looked at you with blank tired eyes, not the ones of enlightened hope you were expecting

“Right well i think this joke has played its course. I'll ask you either leave or buy something.”

Huh? That's not what you were expecting. Shouldn't he be enamored? Shouldn't he be fulfilled with hope and respond in such a manner befitting of a life changing event? What's different here? What have you done wrong? You've done what you usually do, introduce yourself, have a good first impression, positive attitude, state your position as an official of Celestia, your previous mortals were overjoyed when you first met but this one is different, he doesn't look happy or relieved he just looks… tired. 

Perhaps it's because the situation isn't right. In the past when you met your previous mortals it was in an immediate sense of danger whilst here he's just at his job but would something like that really affect his response? He still needs you after all, why isn't he overjoyed? 

“Haha, there is no humor here other than the joyful future we are to embark on! Umm- haha, ah, you aren't in awe or anything right? This is the start to a new life for you! No more suffering or pain, you have I, your benevolent guardian, to guide and support you! Haha- um, you don't look all that greatful haha, i'm not usually this uncomposed it's just you don't seem very grateful and, yeah…” he's really throwing you off here, its like you don't even exist with the way he looks at you. 

“Diluc! We need another round of 8 ales for the second floor!”

“Coming up Charles.”

He turned away and got on preparing the drinks. How awkward. You stand unmoving, simply blinking along and watching your mortal- Diluc, right, Master Diluc of Mondstadt, get glasses and fill them. Eventually your legs felt a little odd having to stand, you sit down on an available stool and continue to watch the men prepare drinks. 

Is this really the reception you get for being a little late? Nothing serious could have happened in the time so why is everything so different now compared to how it's meant to be. 

Your mortal finished his task and returned to his position, when his gaze laid on you he had to sigh but still approached.

“Will you order something now?”

“Oh no, i need not drink.” 

“Right then what are you doing here other than to play this prank of yours?”

“Prank? Oh I'm serious about my position, Diluc of Mondstadt i am serviced to guide you.”

“I don't need any ‘guiding’ but if you are indeed of any i can help guide you out the door if we are done here.”

You can't help but laugh, he's being rather silly, of course you don't need help walking out the door but maybe he's confused or doesn't believe that someone could be blessed an angelic guardian. 

“Diluc of Mondstadt-”

“‘Master Diluc’ is just fine, thank you.”

Oh? Weird, you could have sworn you read that he introduced himself as ‘Diluc of Mondstadt’, it's his title right? 

“Right! So Master Diluc, going forward i will be joining you in you daily-”

“No you will not.” oh how blunt! You cringe a little inside, being treated like this is so odd, your previous mortals were never like this. 

“ahaha- um yes i will, its my job. Worry not! I do not have to be physically present like i currently am, i just figured our first introduction would be best if i took a mortal form, you lot find great comfort in those you can identify yourself with and i will respect that! See!” you lift your arms out and display your form as if he hadn't taken a good look of it, you were rather proud of your visage, you always received praise from your fellow guardians when it comes to your human designs. “See, I put quite a bit of effort into this one! Haha but again, I can take on a spiritual form in the times you need to be ‘alone’. Not alone alone, you'll never be alone! But rather when you need other humans to perceive you are alone. I can do my duties both in and out of form! There is more to guidance than just protection after all! I am here as your new voice to lead you down your-”

“Okay that's enough.”

Please! Dear mortal, stop interrupting me! This is important! you shut your eyes and release an unseen tear, this hurts. 

Diluc of Mondstadts’ frustration seemed to grow, his appearance did not change, his eyes still narrow and frown rested easily on his cheeks like before but you could easily sense his annoyance. How. HURTFUL! 

“I'm done with your ‘guardian of celestia’ nonsense. Please leave my tavern before I have to escort you out, and I will so do not take this statement lightly.” 

“Oh you couldn't even if you tried haha, different phases of mass and all that. I know it may seem ‘annoying’ to you for whatever reason but I am here with you for the rest of your life. It may be different from what you are used to but i can swear on my pledge that i will do all i can to accoustum into your life in a way befitting of your personal needs all whilst helping you out your sadness!”

He sighed, pressed his fingers to his brow and took a moment to recompose. Once he was done his frown wasn't so harsh but he still looked tired. 

“Right well, I cannot deny you are a Celestial being. I've had all manner of entities in my tavern but none have gone so far as to claim they are supposedly my ‘guardian’. I do not know why you claim this, if you take a look into my life you will see I am well settled and content with my present so I am not indeed of your services. I thank you for your offer but please, take it to someone who may actually need it.”

“ha… haha silly, it's not an offer system, that's not how things work, haha. I am tied to you now. I can't just leave and you do need me! Your submission wouldn't be in the files if you didn't. Celestia knows when a mortal is deserving of their attention and you are! I'd say you are especially special considering you have a vision as well. Well done! Good job! You are already on the path of healing! Now with my help you'll reach a lovely new future.”

“Well I'm rather happy with what I currently have. Enough of this talk, you will confuse my customers.”

“oh? Oh you are worried about confidentiality? Not a worry! Our discussion is filtered, they cannot hear information they are not allowed to. They are likely hearing us chat on about the weather haha.”

“What?” his frown turned into confusion, how cute. 

“oh yes! Being your guardian means dealing with personal stuff for you, it wouldn't be right if someone could just listen in to our conversation. There is also the fact that I hold knowledge that should not be heard by mortal ears and luckily the filter works to block it all! No secret spilt or your personal feelings uncovered.”

He looked concerned for a moment before huffing out and directing his attention elsewhere. 

“Of course the gods work in ‘mysterious ways’”

“oh, I'm not a god, I'm an angel.”

“I'm not talking about you.”

“ah…”

He simply ignored you after that, tavern goers came and went and when he wasn't attending to them or greeting familiar faces he busied himself checking lists, stock and otherwise keeping things in order. You found your spot on the bar bench and hadn't moved since, only watched, you tried to start up another conversation but he had shut you down rather quickly so you were once again left in silence to sit. It had been a while since you surrounded yourself with mortals and the distinction was clear, they easily made merry and got on with life none the wiser of the world yet still all too eager to enjoy their lives, it was refreshing. Their simple lives were so cute, it was moments like this that made you fall in love with your job all over again, only pity is your current mortal doesn't seem as pleased. Humans are both simple and complex and your dear mortal was complexing to the core. You felt the hurt in him and yet he did not want help, you stated you were of Celestia and he refused you, why? Perhaps you'll need to try out some different methods to get close. 

The early night turned late and Diluc finished his tasks leaving the few stragglers for Charles to close up after. He took his coat and disappeared out the back door. It took a moment for you to register he had left, so engrossed in your own thoughts and your surroundings you had actually stopped monitoring your mortal, not that you'd admit to doing that of course. Quickly you got out of your seat and ran after him, a few moments later you were at his side as he trudged on Mondstadts roads. 

“soooo~ Mondstadt huh? Pretty place.”

He said nothing

“Last time I was here was ages ago, the winds really have flattened out the hills, it's nice!”

...

“I'm still not so happy about the smell in the air, you'd think that would have cleared out by now.”

“What?” he finally looked at you and it was in total confusion. “What are you going on about?”

“oh haha! I was just thinking aloud, I actually can't say. Hmmm… how could i word this… you've killed people right?”

All you saw was his back as he sped walked forward, eyes ever on his depressed past and not on you, his future. 

“Diluc of Mondstadt halt! I did not mean to be offensive, I just wanted to link a connection you would recognise. That smell of death lingers in- it-” haha filters… you need to recompose yourself. “Haha nevermind! Topics of the past are not fun. How about we talk about you? You work at a bar? Oh no i believe i read you owned a winery, very impressive. But it being your fathers is no achievement of your own, we shall create your very own success in our journeys to come!”

“What?” his speed walking stopped, he held his stance firm, much like the form you need to take in the scene of battle, no sign of weakness displayed even in a simple action such as standing. Too bad for him you knew he was just playing, there is no way he could actually hold himself so well when he's so in need. And yet it didn't feel that way and he looked genuinely angry for some reason, you've only been encouraging.

“What right do you have to claim The Dawn Winery is not an achievement of my own?”

“Well simply you're not the one who developed it but that's okay! We have other chances, we can-”

“Not ‘we’, ‘I’ and it has always been ‘I’. I am the one that has gotten myself up to this point and have no need for a ‘we’. I do not need your confirmation nor your support which consists of empty notions and insensitive remarks. Leave before I force you to.” He took out his blade. He actually took out his blade on you, proof he'd follow through with his words. 

What have you done wrong? Why is he so confusing? The others weren't this confusing. They were just sad and depressed and you comforted them but this one is just angry, your comfort feeding the flames but he wouldn't have had an application made for him if he wasn't in despair. Just what is this mortal's problem? 

“Diluc of-”

“Do not even speak my name if you cannot say it correctly. I understand you may be an inhuman being but that does not exempt you from working by human standards when speaking with one. And typically human standards will not have one creating a false narrative of some guardian angel you are trying to play. Again, leave me be. That is your final warning.”

“But- but I am! It is not a false image, I am an official of Celestia, i am here to help.”

He lowered his blade but still his eyes remained sharp. His claymore could never harm you anyway yet the sting of his look was felt. 

“Then tell me, if you truly are sent from Celestia why is it that you come now once my life is content? Why now when your ramblings prove nothing but eer and not in the time when I truly could have needed Celestia's help?”

It hasn't been that long though…

“I cannot answer that. See-”

“If you cannot answer, it means I cannot accept. To say Celestia sent help yet failed means to lose all respect for the gods. It is easier for me to say the gods work in unknown ways, that I faced my hardships without their guidance for a reason then to be told they failed, that I could have had an easier past if not for the incompetence of others whom are meant to be superior to us mortals. It is for that reason that I hold some semblance of respect for them that I cannot accept you as an agent of theirs.”

How? But that's not- what? His words held no meaning, no meaning you could understand anyway, they were only a collection of words that could not fit together. You could not understand them, you could not comprehend them. Is this how mortals feel trying to comprehend the higher plane? But his words are not a superior entity to you, you are superior, you should understand! But his words… What could he mean? Of course he respects Celestia but how does that differ to accepting you are one of theirs? It's not like Celestia could do anything wrong to garner disrespect. Right? No, it's unquestionable. Its- its-

You feel the strange tingle, you should move on from this subject. Right! Yes, move onto a new subject and respect the mortal, feed into their understanding if it means they can progress.

“haha i see i see. Well you do not have to see me as an official of celestia then! You can see me as a helpful spirit that has decided to join you in your adventure!”

“i refuse”

DAMN HUMAN LISTEN

“ahaha ha… um how about as-”

“The only thing I see you as is a malignant being whom pesters me for their own satisfaction.”

Ouch… but you could work with this!

“I see! Yes yes, your dismay gives me joy so in order for me to not ‘pester’ you you must not fall into dismay but rather develop and progress a more healthy future, yes okay! Human! I shall follow you and ‘pester’ you from this point onwards!”

He did a physical rolling of the eyes, rolling his body along as well as he turns himself away from you and continues walking. 

“If you do so quietly I might reconsider impaling you on my blade.”

Its progress! Okay, you need to listen to him.

“right right, i shall only speak when absolutely needed oh or to say something to agitate you considering i am a malevolent being. In all honesty though, I find it hard to say disparaging things. I usually work as a supportive and helpful being but I will try to be vexatious.” You hear a faint ‘you don't even have to’ come from him, silly human, you can still hear him even at this distance.

A little bit more of a filler introduction to the fic im working on! If the dialogue feels awkward, good, its meant to be. As always angst shall follow but i find the dynamic rather fun. Let me know your thoughts and opinions of what youd like to see in the future!

[couldtheycatchkira]

FAQ

Is this about Kira Yoshikage? This is about the international serial killer "Kira" who kills through an indetectable, contactless, remote method. He might be in Japan, though.

Can you put a "Don't know this character/See Results" option? No. This is an active global serial murder investigation and time is of the essence. If you truly don't know who they are, either: look them up, ot just go by what I'm told are called "vibes". Do not default to "Could Not, Would Die" or "Could Catch, Would Survive" simply because you don't know who the character is.

What is the current wait time? About a year, maybe, and counting.

I thought this was for detectives only? We're desperate. Why do you think this is a suicide squad?

How many submissions can I send in one ask? Six. If you go to seven I am deleting the submission without review. Don't even think about attempting eight.

Do submissions need pictures? Not necessarily, but if you want to, make sure it's at the least an OFFICIAL RENDER. I don't like using fanart! (Nothing against fanartists, I just don't want to search something like "Kermit" and get images of strangely muscular frogs (you can imagine the hell I went trying to avoid AI images for Ramona Flowers)). IF YOU ARE SUBMITTING SOMEONE'S FANART FOR A CANONICALLY-UNSEEN CHARACTER (such as, for example, Adolin Kholin), LINK THEIR TUMBLR BLOG SO THAT I MAY CONTACT THEM FOR EXPLICIT PERMISSION.

If a character was already submitted as a standalone/part of a group, can I submit them as part of a group/a standalone? Yes, however you need to wait the full seven days after their poll goes up. In the event that both are submitted in a short amount of time from one another, I shall personally space them out in the queue so that there are at least seven days between them. This is to prevent a situation where, say, Princess Zelda is submitted in quick succession to "The Triforce Wielders" as a group, and you have two polls with Zelda running at once.

Can I submit a real human? No. Pets aren't allowed because they'd sweep, but do not send me video essayists or the like. I will not put them on the blog unless they, themself, send in their name on an official Tumblr account. I fully doubt this will happen, obviously, so simply do not do this.

Can I submit [ANYONE ELSE]? Baby life is short when you're dealing with a guy who can kill from a distance at any time. You should do whatever you like. Submit a guy who can't separate his darks from his lights. Move to a new city. Find a 200 sqft apartment. Get five roommates. Ghost all of them. Start a company that sells leg warmers for dogs. Declare bankruptcy. Move to a different new city. Enter a torrid romance with a guy who calls himself "The Creature". Cheat on him with a different guy who calls himself "Monsieur Beast", a legally distinct entity unaffiliated with MrBeast. Start an electro-flamenco band with both of your exes. Get trapped in a stupid and gay little maze. Fight your way to the castle beyond the Goblin City and take back what has been stolen from you. Eat a lettuce wrap. Move back to your hometown and tell no one.

[kydrogendragon]

Oooooh, Sex Professor Hob and/or Porn Star Hob, please!

Yesss, I love both of these honestly, so have snippets of both! I think, technically, these both came from asks on Gabe's blog. The Porn Star one was an older one at this point. I'll have to see about tracking down the links. Since these are longer, I'll shove them below a Read More.

Porn Star Hob:

"Dream?" Hob asks, eyes wide as he watches the King of Dreams and Nightmares slowly slide to his knees in front of Hob's naked form. A set of cool and pale hands rest on the dip of his hips, thumbs caressing the tan skin beneath. Before he can get another word out, Dream's warm tongue reaches out, licking up his length. He moans, hands darting forward to claw into Dream's shoulders. A few heads turn in the studio at the noise. Hob's cheeks warm, suddenly feeling more self-conscious than he ever has before in this line of work. "Dream, what are you—" "I would attend to you personally, if you are amenable," Dream says, the tip of Hob's cock resting on those pretty red lips as he stares up through his lashes. It's a sight that just about breaks him. His grip tightens, closing his eyes so he doesn't cum all over his lover's face right here and now and ruin the entire shoot. Though, if he's honest, Dream could probably get him hard within minutes again if he tried. Hob's pretty sure his body's become hardwired to respond to Dream and that damn smirk of his by this point. Taking a breath, Hob opens his eyes again. Dream sits, resting on his knees, still looking up at him with that intense gaze Hob loves so much. But he doesn't move further, clearly waiting for Hob's permission to continue. "I—God's wounds, Dream. Yeah, of course, I'm always amenable, but—" Hob licks his lips. "—I just can't cum yet." Dream smirks. "I am well aware of what this job I would take would entail, Hob Gadling." As if to ensure Hob believed him, Dream moves a hand from Hob's hip and circles his fingers around the base of his cock and squeezes. The pressure is perfect and taunting and Hob's beginning to fear for his sanity. Normally, the fluffer's that he worked with would either give him a simple handie or hold him in their mouths. It worked, kept him hard, but that was about it. With Dream here, now, looking like the porn industry's twinky wet dream—ha—yeah . . . Hob's fucked. He'll be lucky if he makes it through the rest of the shoot at this point.

Sex Professor Hob:

(For some context, this one features Ace Dream who's working through his own internalized acephobia [kinda] and Hob's his tutor [who also fucks his willing clients])

“Who's making you smile so much?” “It is no one.” ‘As you deserve too. You getting that cake you talked about?’ “No one my ass. You get a new girlfriend and not tell me?” Jessamy reaches for his phone, but he pulls it closer to his chest, ignoring the blush at his cheeks. “I am still quite single, thank you for the reminder.” He sighs, clicking the screen off. He will send Hob a picture once it is made as he promised. “It was just my history tutor. He sent me a picture of his cat.” Jessamy rolls her eyes and leans back into the seat. “Should have guessed it was a cat. Makes much more sense in hindsight.” Dream shoots her a look which does nothing but make her giggle. “Who're you seeing by the way? I've got that Early Asian history class on the docket next semester and I know I'll be desperately in need of help.” “His name is Hob Gadling. I think you would like him. He's an exceptional tutor.” Jessamy's eyes go wide. "Oh my god," she says, slamming her drink onto the table. Dream is grateful for the lid lest it end up all over him instead. "The sex professor?" Dream's brain stops. "The what?" "Gadling! Colloquially known as the Sex Professor? Oddly attractive tutor? Does English and History 'officially' but most people go to him for the sex?" Dream feels as if he's been tipped into an alternate reality. "Professor Gadling. Hob Gadling. Sleeps with his clients? His younger clients" "Okay, you make it sound bad when you put it that way. Never heard a bad word about him in that regard. People say it's always very consensual and that he's also a very good lay. Lucienne's gone to him." "Lucienne has slept with him?” "Yup! Told me it's where she learned some of her moves." "I do not need to hear this." "Are you gonna sleep with him? Lots of people claim he's the best they've ever had. He's apparently as good of a teacher in bed as he is behind the desk." "Jessamy—" "You could probably use some stress relief. Maybe he'll give you a reward for passing that test of yours?" "Jessamy, please stop." She blinks and raises her hands in surrender. "Okay, I hear you. Topic: dropped." "Thank you." He folds his head into his arms where they rest on the table, trying not to think too hard about everything he just learned from Jessamy in a matter of two minutes. Of course he'd manage to find the one (he hopes it's just one) university level tutor that also offers "sex education" on the side. He can hear Desire's voice in his head already. “Dream!” His name is called from the counter. He takes a deep breath in before extricating himself from the booth. He grabs their items, his own drink secured between his chest and arm, and sits back down. The crepe cake does look delicious, but now as he looks down at it, all he can think of is what Jessamy had said. Had Hob been trying to coerce Dream into sleeping with him? Is that why he was texting him things unrelated to their sessions? He takes a sip of his coffee and tries to focus on Jessamy's trailing story about the latest art department drama. He never sends Hob a picture of that cake.

Wip List

[bonebabbles]

God the new ultimate guide sucks

It's not JUST the awful art, either. The art's just worth mentioning because even if the book's info had been terrible or contained nothing new, really cute art can make it still worth having.

But, no, it's even full of recycled lines we've been hearing for years like "Bramblestar Can Match Squirrelflight's Fire Not Contain It," and that's when it DOES get everything right. These entries leave out major, important details (making them bad summaries) and are sometimes even straight-up incorrect.

SUMMARY THOUGHTS

Leafpool is said to have watched Brambleclaw kill Hawkfrost to save Firestar-- but for one, no, she was not there because Ashfur was still leading her and Squilf towards the scene. For two, no, Brambleclaw did not kill Hawkfrost just to save Firestar, it was self-defense. Hawkfrost had him pinned and was going to kill him.

They're REAL cute about Leafpool's death, too, neglecting to mention WHY the Sisters needed to be saved at all and just saying Leafpool's "generosity" lead to her death in that cave-in.

I'm not even going to get into everything on Bramble's entry jesus christ.

Sagewhisker's entry is ESPECIALLY fucken' dandy, framing Yellowfang's Secret like she was simply waiting patiently for Yellow to realize her 'destiny' and not actively shoving it on her at every opportunity.

Leopardstar's entry states that romantic interest in Tigerstar was part of her motivation. "Perhaps she'd hoped he would be her mate" please speak to a woman irl for once in your life.

Gray Wing's entry forgot that the reason he "blamed himself" for Bright Stream's death is because he was literally staring at his big strong brother too much and tripped on a root in front of him. It IS his fault she died.

Clear Sky/Skystar's entry is just obscene. "He regretted abandoning his son and after a fire, he encouraged him to live with him" instead of "saw his teenage child was useful now and bullied and belittled the kid and his uncle into letting Thunder come with him." "Retaining his fierceness towards his cats and outsiders which caused his son to leave" instead of "murdering, brutalizing, and abusing everyone around him caused Thunder to leave." I'll just say this tho; "Fierce" is an interesting way to spell "Cruel."

It's interesting that they don't point out that a major part of Jagged Peak's arc was proving he was "Just As Good" as every other cat in spite of his disability, thanks to his introduced-and-pregnant-in-the-same-book wife becoming his life coach, only earning Clear Sky's respect after being allowed to physically lead a patrol in Blazing Star. Instead they frame him finding his place through taking care of kits, which... was something he seemed to resent in the actual series, considering how the books suddenly treat Gray Wing's protective treatment of him as a terrible thing in Blazing Star because he "didn't give him a chance". But at the same time I actually strongly dislike Jagged Peak and his messy, frustrating character arc so I'm not really UPSET with it. Just... noting it. I suppose this is the official direction they're taking away from it?

Shadowstar's entry is barely even 3 paragraphs yikes.

SHORT STORY THOUGHTS

And if you're wondering if the 4 brand new stories they smooshed into the end in a desperate attempt to make the rush job worth buying are good? No. Of course not. They're all slop.

Story 1: Firestar and Graystripe

First one's a marginally cute story about Graystripe and Firestar which is setting up the framing device linking the mini-tales together. They both remember this situation where Firestar fell into a ditch wrong. The punchline is that Thunderstar remembers it perfectly and they're both like, "WOW! Too bad Thunderstar's memory sucks!"

It's not terrible, but it does feel a bit pointless. But, hey, if you want more Firestar and Graystripe in the series that tosses them fanservice at every turn, who am I to judge?

Story 2: Dovewing and Ivypool

The next one is the Dovewing/Ivypool reconciliation passage everyone's talking about. It's... fine, but immensely dissatisfying to me.

Dovewing is apparently having problems adjusting to her Clan, grapples a little bit with the fact she has no friends but is going to be finding meaning in helping tigerHeartstar "bring the new ShadowClan into existence." She ultimately decides that she needs to talk to her sister, and begs for reassurance that Ivypool believes in her, feeling that her support can help her get through this difficult time in her life.

I think its biggest problem is that Dovewing was not the right choice for the POV here.

Dove was never the one responsible for the rift in their relationship. Ivypool is. Ivypool is the one who was jealous, willing to sabotage anything that would put Dovewing closer to Tigerheart, and continues to be generally aggressive towards her. So when Dovewing is reaching out to Ivypool in hopes of them reconciling, it feels wrong because Ivypool is the one that should be reaching out to Dovewing. SHE is the one who has some things to apologize for, and to show how much she loves and misses her.

It's even kind of frustrating, because Dovewing can never catch a break. She has to have these problems to force her to reach out, Ivypool even ends up suggesting that she leave and come home and take her kids with her, but in the end even a LITTLE bit of assurance from her aggressive sister helps.

I feel super bad for Dovewing, man. She deserves better than this cheap writing. What was the point of such an unsatisfying, rushed reconciliation, shoved into a crummy field guide, when we KNOW from the newest book that they're just going to use tension between them as part of the drama anyway?

shouldn't have even been written, imo. Even ends off with, "They'll always have each other :)" which is so... cliche. It's TIRED. Are any of you really happy with just getting a retconned platitude in a good-for-nothing field guide, instead of seeing complicated, INTERESTING feelings in a main book?

Story 3: Alderheart and Twigbranch

A tale of Cherryfall getting sick during TBC and Alderheart sneaks back into the territory to treat her. Also Crowfeather has a scene where he yells at him. Charming.

Twigbranch comes up with a diversion while Alderheart does his work, which is cute. It's a fine story.

Story 4: Clear Sky

Trash. Three dogs spawn in the middle of a gathering so that Skystar can have an uwu big boy sendoff saving his grandkit. Then he goes to StarClan and throws a fit because they can't give him ANOTHER life, becoming so upset that he attacks the nearest woman. Naturally, Shadowstar brushes it off because it's not the first time Clear Sky has pummeled her in the midst of an adult tantrum and this book series thinks violence is fine if their favorite sadboy does it.

Then Gray Wing brings him to the magic mirror pool where you can see the living, to confirm that Star Flower is ok and that makes him feel better.

Then it launches into Firestar saying "ouuuugh yum I LOVE the taste of his butthole. Clear Sky is so misunderstood, He Just Loved Too Much."

to which Graystripe responds, "Yes, he was a good and amazing person and his farts smells SO good, and can you believe that some people think StarClan punished his Clan for his arrogance? As if he ever did anything wrong, ever?"

Firestar, indignant, refutes it with, "Ugh!! StarClan would NEVER be interesting, we don't punish living cats we just float around and make vague, frustrating prophecies that do nothing but pad the word count. Why cant ppl understand that, gosh."

who wrote this? Gray Wing??

[mollysunder]

you’ve talked a few times about the possibility of viktor and jinx interacting, how would you like that to happen? Sorry if you have already talked about this in a post and I missed it

It's no problem anon! I actually did write a post or two related to what your asking, though I guess those posts are more about the external emotional forces that push them together, especially when you throw in other Zaunites like Ekko into the mix.

I have bunch of first meeting scenarios I swish around in my head for these two. I've thought of them first meeting on separate missions to break Singed out of Stillwater. Maybe Sevika could take in Viktor because without out Silco, she has to scramble for resources from desperate people. Viktor would only learn about Jinx through Sevika's perspective, but when they finally meet Sevika's own biases against Jinx makes Viktor less willing to look to Sevika for support.

I've even wondered if they could first meet in a scene that directly parallels the way Viktor and Sky first met, except they're positions are reversed. Viktor is positioned at a higher elevation than Jinx, while she looks up at him with a face that betrays how curious and intrigued she is by the hexcore. In this case, their respective curiosity/desperation would help the two close the gap between eachother.

I would want that kind of scene to represent what Jinx and Viktor's relationship would do to eachother. Viktor would pull Jinx up from her own head into seeing the larger world for what can be done outside of her militant war against Piltover. While Jinx is the one to give Viktor the permission to sink lower from the Ethos, because he has found someone who will accept and even support his path no matter how depraved it could get.

Honestly, I don't need anything fancy. My most simple wish might be that in their first meeting I want Viktor to tell Jinx he's sorry that she lost Silco, and mean it. I want them both to only have known of each other in passing before this first official meeting. That way Viktor already knows what she's rumored to have done and what she's capable of, and still Viktor can extend his empathy towards Jinx and her pain. Jinx would already know the Zaunite half of the hextech duo, either from Silco or Singed, whose business is to know about these things.

In that moment, Jinx could be genuinely taken aback. The immediate aftermath of Silco's death would have probably brought out swaths of vultures and sycophants either trying to get in her good graces or get her out of the way to take over Zaun. It's just mob of faces trying to play into an idea they have of her, and here's Viktor, who I'm sure doesn't have much to his reputation, which in fact might be really negative when he first returns to Zaun. He not only left for Piltover and left against his will into an territory with high anti-Piltover sentiment, he's also associated with a WILDLY unpopular councilman among Zaunites, Jayce. All Viktor would be is just a guy with big ideas and very little anything to do in Zaun, coming to Jinx with nothing but an uncommon sincerity... and a ominous hexcore.

I think if Viktor lays it out like that, not asking for anything but just be willing to see Jinx's turmoil and offer basic comfort, I think she would be willing to do the same in turn. Jinx could offer her own empathy at Viktor's recent exile from Piltover and the overt abandonment he feels from Jayce and everything they built together (and wow doesn't that sound familiar). Something like, "Sorry they tossed you out" to sympathize with him. I think it'd be very awkward and plainly strange moment, but still comforting because they've both found someone to SEE them and empathize with the disorienting position they've been placed in.

If the situation next season weren't so frantic I would want them to meet at Silco's funeral, either Singed or Sevika would officially introduce them. And I like the season to wrap up where Viktor's become the new defacto leader of Zaun in a similar vein to Silco, because Jinx and maybe Sevika enabled his rise to power like how Mel did for Jayce. I'd add more detail but this reply's long enough and the explanation deserves a whole other post.