#idk if this is the longest chapter yet

[kjhmyg]

just a little preference survey; would you prefer i upload the next chapter of rough edges in all it's 26k glory, or should i separate it into two 13k worded posts each?

ultimately, the decision will be made based on how i want the story to be presented etc, but at the same time i do also want your opinion as re lovers and readers!! <3 please vote ily

[russsiangirl]

a cowboy's sweetheart. ( dodge mason x you! )

North Carolina, 2016. 

You had never understood the hype behind rodeos, a bunch of guys practically begging to get injured in some way just for riding a bull? Well, that was bullshit if you had ever seen it. And you were about to. 

Your friend Lauren had practically begged for you to come, she had even bought you a pair of cowboy boots for the occasion! Lauren had a weird obsession with cowboys since this one boy in 8th grade, the year when the two of you got really close. Ever since then, you two had been glued at the hip, a thorn in each other’s sides as well. But here you two were, in college, together! Practically living the dream. “Please come, just this once!” Lauren pleaded, standing at the door of your shared dorm. You look at her with a sigh falling from your lips. She was persistent, but you just wished she would be persistent with other things. She looked at you with puppy dog eyes and repeated your name. “Fine,” You said with a huff, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe this. “I’ll go to your cowboy thing.” Lauren practically leaped with excitement as you agreed to this thing. You smiled back, watching as she dropped the cowboy boots at the door. Yeah, you were not wearing those. Over your dead body. 

at the rodeo… So you ended up wearing the cowboy boots. As you and your friends made your way to the stadium, you couldn’t help but take in your surroundings. “The toughest sport on dirt, huh? My ass.” You scoffed as your friend nudged your shoulder with a giggle. You didn’t really understand why she liked cowboys this much. It honestly astonished you. Cowboys were never really your type. But maybe, just maybe would this change your mind. You weren’t against liking cowboys, it just never really stuck with you. “Noo, you just need to see it to understand it.” Lauren clung onto your arm as she looked around like a kid in a candy store. You were glad she was excited. You wanted Lauren to be happy. You looked around at your other friends, Aubrey, Stella, Brianna. They weren’t huge cowboy fans, yet they went along. You had heard all about their nights with the different cowboys. As y’all found your seats in the bleachers your attention was drawn to the current cowboy in the chute. He donned a cream-colored cowboy hat and you could hear your friends giggling next to you. The announcer’s voice went off with a rumble, you listened closely trying to find out who this mysterious cowboy was. 

“Let’s go guys as we now have Dodge Mason from Martinsburg, West Virginia!” You raised a suspecting eyebrow, Dodge Mason was certainly a cowboy name, no doubt about it. The stadium immediately erupted with cheers as the announcer continued, naming the bull that Dodge was going to be riding. You and your friends made your way down closer to the fence, trying to get a better view. Your friend Brianna seemed like she knew this cowboy. He had probably been here before, you thought. You watched intently as he gave the nod to be released and watched as the bull tried to buck him off. The roll of his hips to stay balanced was hypnotizing, you watched as his face contorted with concentration. There was a cloud of dust that followed as the bulls hooves’ scuffed the dirt. You never had thought that bull-riding, for fucks sake, could be so.. entrancing? Your gaze didn’t leave him, the way he looked so stable on the bull that was so desperately trying to buck him off. It looked like second-nature for him, probably was too. He was, what, 52nd in the world? That must’ve been pretty high up there. You were sadly taken out of your trance as the bell went off, signaling that the 8 seconds were over, that the cowboy had made it.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a champion!” The entire stadium broke out in cheers and yells and whistles. You and your friends immediately hopped up and cheered as well. Why wouldn’t you? He had just won! It was astonishing! Anybody who could win at one of these things deserved some fucking applause. You beamed as you continued to applaud, though the cowboy didn’t have much reaction. Like he was used to this? 

Your gaze tracked him as he hopped off the bull. The helpers came over to reign the bull back over, except they couldn’t.  The bull rushed at the cowboy and you examined how his eyes widened in fear before he bolted over practically to where you were, his cowboy hat falling over the fence. Your heart pounding in your ears as you reached down to pick it up, offering it back to him.

“Oh no, you keep it.” He nods at you with a small smirk and you find yourself smiling back. His voice was nice, it was the kind of voice that could calm you down when you couldn’t sleep at night. A voice that was just naturally comforting.. Now that you could see him up close you started to see things about him. LIke how he had a small splattering of freckles on his face or how part of his left eye was brown. You looked down at your feet before setting the hat on your head. Dodge gave you a small nod before hopping off of the fence and making his way back to the exit. Maybe cowboys weren’t so bad after all..

Your friends immediately giggle and swoon behind you as you smile and you couldn’t help but find yourself smiling as well. Who knows, maybe you’d go looking for Dodge Mason later. There was just something about him that was so captivating. Something that made you need more, like a drug. You wanted to see what was up with this mysterious cowboy. You needed to see him again.

uhhhh yeah there's chapter one for you guys!! sorry that its so short this is my first time posting anything like this enjoy :3

[honnelander]

friends….i have some news….i think part 3 of go fish! will be the final chapter of that mini series 😶

it’s going to be so 🤌🏼✨ fluffy and intimate that it just makes sense that the confessions will just come out then….but maybe i’ll change my mind idk 😜 sometimes the characters have a mind of their own

so….be prepared 👀

[ddeongies]

nmau 70k real???????

[misty-zzz]

Msm: yeah so in the new update we got a bunch of quints and fires on the magical islands, rare candelarva and spurrit, oh and gobblegourd. I hope you enjoy this update :3

My honest reaction 

I went insane over new incisaur content

[bluegarners]

unfortunate news yall. for those of you waiting on a solar flares update, im sad to report that due to certain circumstances (nothing bad, rest assured) i will likely not be able to publish the final chapter before new years. that was the original plan, to publish it to finish out 2023 with a bang, but i am about to travel unexpectedly and this is going to halt my writing and editing schedule i had set up. however!! the final chapter will be published very soon. for sure it will be published before january 7th, as that is when my uni schedule picks up again

in case i dont make a post on new years, i hope everyone brings in 2024 with a hopeful heart! thank you guys for sticking around all these years, it's been so fun and such a positive space for me <3

[thefloatingwriter]

Whats in ch 2 of the beetee fic 👀👀

progress is a little slow lately due to school and various other stuff, but currently i’m at 11,690 words. this might be the longest chapter in the fic, though i still don’t have the last one figured out completely. we haven’t even made it to the capitol yet lol.

but basically to answer your question, chapter two spans the entirety of the 40th hunger games. the majority of it will be from beetee’s perspective, but i think i will add some surprise povs from time to time.

currently beetee, amalia, his district partner, and attican, their mentor, are watching the reapings on the train. here’s a little snippet:

A scream from the screen rippled through their conversation, shattering it into pieces as Amalia stiffened next to him. They all watch as the girl on screen walks up the steps to the stage, shaking next to Iris as she asks for volunteers. The silence is only interrupted by her mother’s screams. Beetee doesn’t know what the announcers say after that as Amalia shuffled closer to him on the couch. He isn’t sure if it was even intentional, but he opens his arms like he would for one of his siblings. Amalia only hesitates a second before entering them, hugging his side. 

[acid-ixx]

the jason hurt/comfort scene in chapter five is quite literally the longest scene i could possibly write. and yet it's the one that hurts me the most, i'm quite literally crying over a fictional character i'm writing about, what the hell 😭... it's literally questionable comfort (do you want to be comforted? why is jason trying to help you just now? why are you so weak, melting against his body as if you never told yourself you'll never fall for their trap again? why does jason refuse to let you go?), so many conflicting feelings and so many song references.

i'm not kidding when i'm telling everybody that i am getting all emotional over what i'm writing, probably because i feel the most connected to jason and harbor favoritism towards him but you guys have to bear with me because he's quite literally the most similar to the reader in regards to just wishing bruce loved them both enough. it's just two children chasing after a father's love, and it being reciprocated in different ways. bruce loved the other more than you, you're bonding over the trauma you both faced in different moments.

and just when jason thinks your relationship with each other would improve from now on, just as he promises to be your sole protector, you've long since let him go and prepare yourself to run away from gotham.

... it's making me feral, i'm so glad to contribute to the platonic yandere trope because family angst is NOT PORTRAYED AS MUCH!!!

my heart is exploding, i am not overreacting, why am i so attached to this series ngl HAHAHA. idk when i will post chapter 5, but there's so many yummy moments, so many characters i'm writing about that i'm contemplating on cutting it into two different parts and releasing it at the same time for i fear the word limit and my phone glitching at the amount of words. anyways, i hope u guys enjoy this ramble, i am foreshadowing the amount of hurt i've felt writing. this series became a big passion of mine and i hope u all get attached to jason as much i am.

[sorcerersseestars]

LIMERENCE (part I)

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

"I can't stop loving you, no matter how hard I try."

summary: Your long-time friend stirs feelings inside you that you never realized existed. Of course they bubble up in your chest while he’s in the midst of ignoring you and discovering his own possible romance. Your mutual friend thinks she has it all figured out—or does she?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

genre: hanahaki sickness au, angst, hurt/comfort, drama, slow burn!

warnings: mentions of feeling sick, being stonewalled kinda, usage of the word (Y/N) bc Gojo is too fed up for nicknames (in reality idk what else to use 😶), Gojo being an ass (common theme in my fics oops)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: This is the first part to my hanahaki au! I’ve had this in my drafts for the longest time, but never committed to writing it all out until now. This first bit is kinda slow and maybe confusing BUT hopefully I’ll be able to clear it up next chapter. Not proof read very thoroughly; will probably regret later 🫥

part ii part iii

“DON’T YOU THINK you could be a bit nicer to me?” You try, clasping your hands together as you look up at him with an odd smile—a cross between apologetic and playful. You’re joking, or at least half joking. It’s too difficult to be serious with Gojo; his habit of masking emotion with jest must be rubbing off on you.

Only one corner of his mouth raises. “Good one, (Y/N)-chan. As if I didn’t use to pay your bills.”

He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, and he walks away from you without a single glance. You frown and lightly jog a few steps to catch up to him.

“Ah, and I’m forever thankful for that!” You say, cringing at how overly peppy your tone is. “But that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Hmm,” Is all he says. His hands are in his pockets, but he doesn’t carry himself with as much ease as usual—his posture is closed off, angular and tense.

“What I meant was–” You prompt your own answer, as he doesn’t make any move to. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. I know you’ve been really busy lately, so I don’t blame you, but I think we should go out and do something. Could help relieve some work stress too, don’t you think so?”

“Maybe,” He says, the word short yet effective in its delivery. The word was sharp in his mouth, clear annoyance shaping his tongue enough for the word to have a bite to it.

You wince. He never used to be like this. Gojo has been in a state of perpetual mirth—and one could argue levity—for the entirety of your friendship, never taking anything seriously and always looking for opportunities to poke fun at you to half-jokingly glorify himself. His expression has always been infectiously positive—never molded into anything hard or serious.

But, lately, everything you thought you knew about Gojo Satoru has faded away into your memories. He never seeks out your presence anymore, which is polar opposite from your high school days, when he would follow you around and pester you until you’d hang out with him. You actually used to get annoyed at this behavior, but you’re sorely missing it now.

You feel like you know nothing about him these days, only hearing tidbits here and there from your mutual friend Shoko. It stings to know that he obviously talks to her, and quite often at that, seeing she always has new details to spill every other day.

It doesn’t make sense to you: him and Shoko were never particularly close, definitely not nearly as close as you and Gojo were. In fact, she thought of him as particularly annoying in high school, and often swore to you that she would cut all contact with him once they graduated.

Back then, you had rolled your eyes at her antics, never believing that anybody could cut Gojo out of their life, seeing as he simply wouldn’t let them. But how else could you describe what he seems to be doing to you?

You bite your lip nervously. “Satoru? Is there something wrong?”

“Not particularly,” He says with a forced smile that’s screaming for you to shut up. You pretend like it’s not the most disingenuous smile you’ve ever seen smeared on his face.

“Are you sure?” You probe. “I mean…what’s been going on with you these days? We haven’t seen each other in forever, and you don’t seem yourself.”

“Are you sure?”

His lips are quirked up, as they perpetually are, but it’s different this time. It’s mocking. A mocking smirk that’s telling you to face reality. Do you really know him anymore?

You pause in your steps, studying his expression. You can’t see his eyes, but you wish you could. He’s hard to read with that blindfold concealing those powerful eyes of his, but it never used to be a problem. It hurts that you’re now struggling to gauge him when your emotions used to feel like one.

Evidently, you can’t answer his question. Not that he seems to care.

“I’ve really got to get going. Students to teach, curses to kill, all that,” He announces, tone low and apathetic. Bored. “See ya.”

Your breath flutters in your throat as you try to bid him goodbye. You choke on your words and only end up tentatively raising a hand. Before you can wave, his form disappears. A gust of wind greets you in lieu of a proper goodbye.

You stay where you are for a few shocked moments, not even registering the hot tears that leak from the eyes he avoided.

You wander aimlessly around campus for a while, the whole interaction replaying in your head several times over. His “Are you sure?” needles its way into your brain even when you push it away, the words hitting where it hurts every time.

Your feet find themselves taking you to an empty break room – ah, this is the one that has your favorite flavor of tea. You turn the kettle on, then eagerly dig through the tea stash. You file through the individual packets quickly and thoroughly, but to no avail. It’s gone.

With a sigh, you grab a random tea bag and throw it into your mug. Frustrated, you roughly begin pouring the now-boiled water into the mug, but it doesn’t seem that was a good idea. Your hand slips for just a split second, but a sizable splash of boiling water still manages to singe your non-dominant hand. A stream of expletives leaves your mouth, and you instantly cradle your hand to your heart.

More tears appear. At least you have an excuse this time—it fucking hurts.

You trudge to the clinic, feeling quite silly, but also seeking some much-needed relief. And you’re not exactly imagining painkillers or an ice pack—no, there’s something else. Someone else.

You hesitantly knock on the door. You feel stupid, but you really have to see her.

You crack a smile at the creak of the door. Your friend and co-worker Shoko strides out with an air of confidence you wish you held.

“What happened?” She asks calmly, eyes lazily taking in your form.

“Spilled some water from the kettle,” You say lamely. “It hurts.”

That doesn’t really constitute a visit to one of the only reverse-cursed technique users in the school, and you know it. So does she.

“Mmhm,” She raises her eyebrows. “Well, come on in.”

You shuffle in a little sheepishly, not able to meet Shoko’s eyes. Now that you’re here, you start to feel unsure about your own motive—do you really want to discuss this? Won’t it just be embarrassing more than anything else?

You stall a little in your steps as the negative thoughts invade your head. You’re startled to attention by a poke to your side—when you look up, Shoko’s playful smirk fills your vision.

“Come on over to the sink and we’ll put that under some cool running water,” She says, gesturing to your reddened arm.

You cock your head, looking between her and the sink skeptically, “No ice?”

She shakes her head, sticking her tongue out at you a bit, “Nope! Running water for burns.”

You hold up your hands in defeat, smiling, “Whatever Doctor Shoko says.”

“And I do,” She says cheekily. “So get under that water!”

“Aye-aye,” You say with a salute.

She groans, “Ugh. You guys are so annoyingly similar. Hang on a sec, I gotta grab something.”

She turns away before she can see the way your expression drops. The smile is stolen from your face, leaving behind saddened eyes and a slight frown. There’s only one possible person she could be talking about.

You sigh and turn on the faucet—your disheartened sigh morphs into one of great relief as the cold water soothes your burn.

“That better?” Shoko asks upon her return.

You nod, a small smile coming back, “Yeah, thanks Shoko.”

“Is there something else wrong?” She asks, then shakes her head. “No, scratch that. What’s actually wrong?”

You take a deep breath. How are you going to broach this subject? You wait several moments, pondering your exact next words.

“Do you think Gojo is okay?” You finally ask your long-time friend, words coming out almost cautiously.

She eyes you funnily, “Why are you asking me? As if he doesn’t chase you around the school to blab on about himself.”

You smile, but it’s tainted by bitterness.

“Shoko…Gojo hasn’t talked to me for two months,” You admit quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

She stops.

“What?”

You hate hearing the confusion in her voice. You hate the pity that soon fills her eyes.

“He seriously hasn’t,” You affirm, sighing. “I don’t know what I did, or if I did anything, or…or what. I just, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?”

You sigh. “Of course I have, but he didn’t seem to take my concerns seriously. Or consider them at all. It just seemed like he wanted me to shut up and leave him alone.”

Shoko looks at you curiously, lips quirking as if she has something to say, but no words come out. Is she holding something back?

You take a deep breath, willing the horrible emotion that squeezes your throat away. You look out the window to distract yourself, watching the branches of a sakura sapling swaying in the wind. It looks alone and lost, battered by the relentless wind.

“What’s he been like recently with you?” You finally ask, your gaze still on the tree.

“Normal,” Shoko says. “Annoying as ever. Noisy as ever.”

A cluster of pink petals is ripped from a branch, swirling hopelessly to the ground. When they settle on the ground, you look back to your friend.

“He’s really the same?” You ask weakly.

“Unfortunately,” She says wryly. “Besides, why do you care? We’ve both been trying to get him off our backs since waaay long ago. Sounds like a blessing in disguise.”

“Ah, that’s true,” You admit with a weak chuckle, trying to ignore the way your heart throbs painfully. “But he’s also our friend.”

“Since when? More like a thorn in my side. Maybe he finally got the message,” Shoko smirks. “You should give me instructions for that. I’d have a lot better quality of life, you know.”

You know she’s just joking around with you, but she’s truly just rubbing salt in your wound. Not very ethical for a doctor, even if unintentional.

“Yeah,” You laugh, but it’s an empty sound. “Well, I guess I’ll get going then. Hopefully your next patient gives you an easier time.”

Shoko jokes, “Yeah, this has been my toughest job all week. You fiend.”

Your head is filled with so many questions, all of them growing louder as you walk away from your friend. Your friend who you thought would sympathize with you, but only ended up making you feel worse in the end is acting suspicious. It’s not like you’ve ever wanted to actually cut ties with Gojo, even when he used to pull pranks on you in high school. You craved for a strong friendship with him throughout all his shenanigans.

Why is Shoko acting like you hate Gojo, and what isn’t she telling you?

Before you reach the door, you decide you need to know. You stop abruptly in your tracks.

“Ieiri, you’re not telling me something,” You say softly, not looking back. “Why?”

Shoko sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You don’t miss anything, do you?”

You say nothing. The door in front of you is tempting—it’s your way out of knowing the truth. Do you really want to know?

You wait tensely for a few seconds, the silence causing nerves to bubble up in your stomach. But when Shoko begins to speak, they go don’t go away.

“He hasn’t really been acting strange around me, but he’s constantly on his phone. Like always. Whenever he comes to chat, he immediately tunes me out and starts texting or loudly takes a call,” She snorts, huffing out an exasperated sigh. “I thought he was just bored and trying to make me feel disrespected as a sort of cruel joke, but I think it’s something else. I think…I think Gojo is interested in someone.”

Your head whips around, disbelief clear in your features. Interested in someone?

“Maybe that’s why he’s been acting weird. I always thought he was crazy for you, so it didn’t cross my mind until now.”

“Crazy for me?” You immediately echo back, voice hollow and confused.

Shoko shakes her head at you, “C’mon, you can’t be that oblivious. He always followed you around like a lost puppy in high school. He never said anything to me about it, but I really thought he would confess any day for years.”

“He did that to everyone…” You shake your head. “You say yourself he bugged you so much.”

She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, it was different.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Your vision becomes foggy at the edges, reality fizzling out.

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” You ask. “It’s not like that matters.”

You try to appear uncaring, yet it was a fight to get those words out.

“You’re a sensitive person. ‘Didn’t know how you’d react since Gojo always seemed to chase after your attention, exclusively. But it’s not like it was the other way around—should have known it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not. Guess he’s just growing up.”

“Yeah,” You agree faintly, voice devoid of emotion. Reality is slipping through your numb fingers, the information turning your world into a nightmare. You should have opened the door and ran when you had the chance.

“It’s not,” You say with a saccharine smile, one so sickly sweet that Shoko gets chills. That’s not your usual smile—not one that Shoko has ever seen you wear. “Of course it’s not.”

When you turn on your heel and rush out of her infirmary, Shoko reaches out a hand and her lips part to call after you. It’s uncharacteristic for her—the cold doctor is rarely sentimental or emotionally affected, but she saw something ghastly in that smile of yours.

The slam of the door answers her call. The truth, now imparted, comes to bite her in the ass.

It’s been a few days. You’ve been moping around the school, around your students—trying to cope with the information that you don’t even know is true. You see him across campus sometimes; he’s so easily spotted with his translucent hair and tall frame. Every time, he’s facing away from you, and your eyes fall on the back of his head. Your chest always tightens and you end up turning away, too.

You have ignored the feelings stirring in your chest, not willing to admit something that clearly isn’t reciprocated. It has been working, you suppose, since you haven’t cracked under the mental weight of possibly being in lo—

No, you can’t even think that.

Everything has been as okay as it can. It’s not until you attempt to visit Shoko again to try sort out your feelings, however, that things take a turn for the worse.

Your hand is raised as you prepare to knock on the infirmary door, but you hesitate once you hear muffled voices.

“I don’t know…I didn’t expect it at all.”

That’s Gojo’s voice. That low but self-assured tone is undeniably his.

“Expect what?” Shoko asks, sounding bored.

His reply is so soft that it passes by as just a hiss of air, so quiet that you physically startle at Shoko’s loud reaction.

“No! What? I can’t believe that!” She shouts, laughter quickly following her exclamation.

You shouldn’t be listening—you hadn’t planned to eavesdrop on your two best friends, but for some reason your ear seeks out the wall, as if magnetized.

The next three words uttered still your heart.

“Utahime kissed me,” Gojo admits quietly.

You feel like you can’t breathe. Utahime, who has always despised Gojo even beyond Shoko’s extent. Utahime, who once cried into your chest after Gojo was harsh with her at an exchange event. Utahime, who always persisted that you and Gojo were into each other during high school.

Shoko’s unbelieving chuckle cuts through your thoughts.

Shoko laughs, “Oh, yeah, okay, as if I’d ever believe that.”

There’s silence. Your heart drops at the lack of response—no teasing refute, no playful faux playboy attitude.

Shoko absorbs his unusual silence, finally interpreting his words for what they are.

She gasps loudly, spluttering, “Oh my God, you’re being serious. What?! There’s no way…”

Gojo’s voice is even and deep. “I didn’t lie. She just did it out of nowhere. I didn’t even know how to react, to be honest.”

“So you just stood there?” Shoko snorts, trying to keep up her usual sarcastic persona. “God, you’re insufferable all the way around.”

“I kissed her back,” He breathes out, voice almost weak.

Another long moment of silence ensues. You hold your breath, terrified that your panicked pants will alert them of your presence.

Shoko recovers quickly this time.

“Still insufferable,” She sighs, and you can imagine her shaking her head. “So what now? You like her or something? This is so random.”

“I…I don’t know,” He admits quietly. “I never thought she’d do that, it took me by surprise. I…I think I liked it?”

Your heart shatters. You clutch a hand to your mouth, gagging yourself, forcing back the pained gasp that’s threatening to leave your lips.

“Oh, is that so?” Shoko says drily, but the usual edge to her voice is absent. You can only imagine her expression: contorted with pity and pain, desperately trying to maintain her poker face.

“Yeah,” Gojo reaffirms. “It was nice.”

There’s silence for a few seconds as Shoko takes it all in. Then, “Is she who you’ve always been calling and texting when I’m talking to you? You’re an ass for that, by the way.”

Gojo exhales out a sardonic sniff, “You’re spot on.”

Why are you still listening? You should leave. You shouldn’t be hearing this. Pain blooms in your chest, as if thorns became lodged between your ribs.

“What about (Y/N)?”

You freeze, eyes bulging out of your head.

Gojo sighs, sounding annoyed, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not dumb, Satoru. There was something going on during high school and frankly in the past few years as well. Are you going to deny it?”

He scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shoko. It was never like that.”

You feel like you’re going to be sick. You shouldn’t—there’s no possible way you’re actually in love with Gojo Satoru, is there?

Fuck. The thought you’ve been trying to avoid all this time has finally firmly inserted itself into your head.

You take off swiftly and immediately, and your footfalls are as light as you can possibly manage. If either of them knew you were here, you wouldn’t be able to handle the shame.

Gojo and Shoko are none the wiser to the immoral action that took place just beyond the door—so when Shoko is ready to clock out and opens the door, the presence of a school ID on the ground is nearly missed. She feels something strange crunch underneath her foot and steps away and glances at the foreign object.

You left in such a hurry that your ID flopped out of your pocket. It lays on the ground, your smiling face staring up at Shoko, who looks on in horror. She immediately knows that you heard everything. She quickly steps back onto your ID, concealing your identity with her foot.

With all the sight of his six eyes, Gojo somehow completely missed Shoko’s strategic maneuvers to erase traces of your presence. He whistles nonchalantly, not having a care in the world, apparently.

In contrast, Shoko’s mind is racing. Her eyes roam around the courtyard, searching for your form. She feels rooted to the spot—will she reveal you if she steps away? She almost forgets that she’s not alone.

“You looking for someone?” Gojo asks.

Shoko stiffens, but forces herself to relax and appear nonchalant. “Ah, I was just wondering if…if (Y/N) would still be around.”

Gojo frowns. “Hm. Not sure. Don’t they usually go home right after they get off?”

“Lately, they’ve been staying back to do paperwork,” She sighs. “Masamichi has really giving them too many missions…How come you don’t know that?”

“Haven’t had the chance to catch up, I guess,” Gojo says evasively, then quickly changes the subject. “Besides, aren’t you the same way? You coming or not? I’ve got better things to do.”

He waves his cell phone around playfully, a smirk widening across his features.

Shoko rolls her eyes, “Go ahead. I’m just going to wait here a bit and see if I can text them and get them over here.”

She hesitates for a second before adding, “Actually, why don’t you wait a sec? We haven’t all seen each other in a bit.”

Gojo immediately stiffens. He scratches the back of his head and says, “Ah, I’m actually sort of on a time crunch. Maybe next time.”

What a lie. Shoko thinks, eyes narrowing subconsciously. What is he up to?

As he trails off into the distance, the gears in Shoko’s head continue to turn. He always, always teleports home after work finishes. So why is he slowly walking around campus, head turning this way and that way as if searching?

And you! Why were you there? Why were you so affected? What is going on in your head—or rather, your heart?

Something strange is going on with her two friends and Shoko is determined to find out what.

next part

credit 🩷:

@kiyaedits - baby pink dividers, @sweetxmelody - cherry blossom divider

*note: taglist open!! comment to be tagged in part 2 :)

[effervescentpoet]

sirius black x slytherin!reader idea i thought of listening to peter by taylor swift

- childhood friends to strangers to friends again? lovers?? idk yet (maybe romantic!remus x reader ???)

- reader is younger than sirius.

- sirius and reader were both raised by pureblood families, meeting at a very young age and recognizing each other after many pureblood galas.

- they got close, often hiding in secluded rooms together and talking about how much they dislike their parents.

- “in closets like cedar, preserved from when we were just kids.”

- after sirius gets sorted into gryffindor, he’s forced to one last party and tells her about hogwarts.

- “what if im not sorted with you?”

- “don’t worry, no matter where you get sorted, you and i will stick together.”

- he promised, believing there’s no way reader would get sorted into slytherin.

- “promises oceans deep, but never to keep”

- once reader gets sorted into slytherin, and sirius immediately closes off. he feels betrayed by the longest friend he’s ever had.

- she keeps telling him that nothing has to change, that they’re still the same person he was friends with.

- sirius tries to give up on reader, but reader refuses to give up on him.

- “and i won’t confess that i waited but i let the lamp burn as the men masqueraded, i hoped you’d return with your feet on the ground- tell me all that you’d learned because loves never lost when perspective is earned.”

- “the shelf life of those fantasies has expired, lost to the Lost Boys chapter of your life, forgive me peter, please know that i tried to hold on to the days when you were mine.”

would anyone be interested in this ???

[divinesolas]

Flowers | The Series | Chapter Thirteen | The Grand Tourney

Summary | its finally the day of the grand tourney ! but you seem to be out of it....

Pairing | Jacaerys Velaryon × Fem!Reader

Warnings | fluff, a lot more world building, happy family, idk how tourneys work pls ignore, not proofread

Word Count | 2.7k

a/n | a much longer one, i think this is the longest one yet! i really hope you guys enjoy it!!!

series masterlist

“Tell me”

“No”

“Tell me now”

“No dear”

“If you do not tell me now i will be angry at you” “You have been saying that since the sun rose pumpkin.”

You were furious, your parents had not told you a single things about their conversation with jacaerys last night even while you were grilling them in your room last night and even right now as you sat for breakfast they kept their mouths shut. 

You groan and throw your head back in frustration. “I just dont understand why you cannot tell me.”

You miss the knowing look shared between your parents as you cross your arms cross your chest. “Some things are just meant to be kept between parents.”

“Not when said thing involves a potential suitor.” 

Your father sighs and he reaches over to place a hand on your crossed arms. You huff and turn your head away from him and he laughs. “You really want to know so desperately? Lets crack a deal.”

Your mother lets out his name in a hiss as you sit up and look at him eagerly, “yes! What ill do anything?” 

“Tell me what you and the prince talked about last night in the hallway and i will tell you what we talked about.” 

You and your father have a staring contest as he looks at your expectantly and you glare at him as you groan and turn away, attempting to push down the heat that rises to your face as you think over the conversation the two of you shared. 

“See, some things are just not meant to be shared.”

“That is different-”

“It is no different you are lucky i am such a strong, kind, loving, caring, charismatic, charming,” you roll your eyes as he gives you a sharp look, “and good looking father that i am being more than kind and not asking what scandalous things the two of you were talking about in that dark and empty hallway. If anything you should thank me.”

 You laugh and cover your mouth as you shake your head, “father please you are being ridiculous.” “I certainly am not. I put in a lot of work trying to convince your mother not to hunt you down until you told her what happened.”

You tilt your head as you think over. Your mother had been oddly quiet that morning and she had stared at you rather long as you ate breakfast and when you asked her what was wrong she merrily shook her head. She slams her hands on the table as she stands, taking a deep breath and runs her hands down along her dress. “Let us get going. The tourney should be starting soon.” 

She moves to rummage through some of the stuff in the room as you look over to your father with a bewildered look but all he does is wink at you as he stands and offers you his arm.

The three of you make your way outside to the bustling walkway towards the stands for the tourney; horses are led by knights and you see many men in gear. You are in awe as you look around barely hearing the call of your name until you are startled by the man in front of you.

“Ser joffrey!” you jump back with your hand on your chest and he grins at you. “I apologize my lady, I didn't mean to frighten you.”

You take a couple deep breaths before you shake your head, “it is my fault ser i was not paying attention.” 

You take notice of his attire and smile at him, “your gear suits you ser.”

He smiles and offers you his arm, “your compliments warm me my lady, and please, call me joffrey.” 

You look over at your father who lets go of you, “me and your mother shall go promenage for a bit before the fight, good luck ser joffrey.” Joffrey nods with thanks before you watch your parents walk off, turning back to joffrey.

You grab his arm and the two of you begin to walk down the lanes. “You look wonderful today lady dunn.” “thank you ser-” he gives you a pointed look, “joffrey. Thank you joffrey.'' He smiles warmly at you as the two of you continue your walk in silence, simply enjoying each other's presence and the nice weather. He mentions he has his own tent as all the competitors today do and the two of you head there.

As soon as the two of you enter you notice he stiffens up and looks at him as he has a thoughtful look on his face. “Joffrey?”

“I truly hope you do not hate me.” you gasp as you pull away from him, turning fully towards him.”whatever do you mean?”

“You are clearly very taken with the prince and I have done nothing but attempt to throw an obstacle in your path. You could be queen yet here I am a mere lord asking you to join me after you have barely known me a day.”

You grab both his forearms as he casts his head down towards the ground, “I am a selfish fool.” 

“That is not true. You are merely a man attempting to survive in a world who wrongly would hate him for being who he is. I do not hold that against you. And should i remind you you are not merely a lord you are heir to the eyrie for god's sake. If anything, I am the one who is in your way.” 

he shakes his head and looks at you with a grin, “well it seems i am a very generous man.” 

you hit his arm and he laughs as you shake your head at him, unable to help the smile that climbs on your face. 

“thank you y/n. you are kinder than most.”

The two of you soon leave the tent and make some more mindless chatter, as you walk you can't help but overhear some of the ladies' conversations as they walk by, “did you hear the prince has entered a courtship with cassandra baratheon.” “it is of no shock, of course the baratheons have managed to worm their way into the royal family.” “it would be a shock to no one if their engagement were to be announced soon enough.” 

you must be bug eyed as you continue to walk towards the stands. A courtship? between the prince and cassandra? Cassandra baratheon? this could not be happening. Was jacaerys merrily toying with you last night? he did not seem like the type but you had not known him well. Maybe he had been, he did not ask to enter a courtship with you last night, maybe your parents had been hiding the conversation they had last night with him because he had not asked to enter a courtship with you and they did not want to upset you. 

your mind running a mile a minute you do not even notice you are basically in your seat as joffrey manages to catch you attention once more.

“This is where I must leave you my lady.”

“I wish you luck today joffrey.”

he kisses the back of your hand with a smile before he walks off. you sigh as you begin to move towards your parents who have already taken a seat, attempting to ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest as you greet them before sitting down.

you hear a gasp next to you, “y/n?” you turn your head a gasp, “trisk? trisk beesbury is that truly you?” she squeals and wraps you in a hug, you laugh and wrap your arms around her.

trisk beesbury. the third daughter of house beesbury and your good friend. she always came by your house to stay and you would consider her your closest friend. 

“I had no clue you were coming here, oh how I've missed you.”

you pull away and she gives you a heartfelt smile. “me and my family arrived late. Barry had a horrible horse accident. though he is alright, we made it just a day ago.'' Barry, one of her two brothers, had always been a clumsy one, “again? i thought it was not too long ago he had been in one.” 

she sighs and nods her head, “yes. father has forbidden him from riding for a while.” 

the two of you make some nice conversations and your parents say hello to hers. while you all make conversation your eyes drift up to the royal box where the royal family sits and locks eyes with cassandra. you notice all the other baratheons in the box as well. the pit that had been forming in your stomach grows as she sees you and smiles before sending you a wave. you can't look away from her and before you can even form any thoughts an announcer begins to speak and the tourney begins.

You watch as many men stride over on their horse, they ask a lady for their favor, then they fight. It was rather dull for someone like you but with trisk there you ended up enjoying it more than you thought.

“and presenting his royal highness, prince jacaerys velaryon!” The crowd erupted into cheers as the prince rode out and waves at the crowd. you watch him as he takes off his helmet and shakes his head with a smile. 

“oh gods he is so handsome” 

his eyes roam around the crowd until he spots you and you swear you see his smile grow.

“He is surely going to ask Cassandra for her favor, ugh she is so lucky.” you gulp at trisk’s words as you look at cassandra who's gripping her favor in her hand as she fixes her hair. 

Yet when the time comes he rides over near your seat and you freeze.

“You look lovely today lady dunn.”

you hear trisk gasp beside you and you grip tight onto the favor in your hand.

“I thank you, my prince.”

you stare at him as he continues to smile at you, lift his hand in your direction without breaking eye contact, “your favor my lady? if you would do me the honor?” 

you ignore the whispers of the people around you and you do not dare even look in cassandra’s direction as you stand and walk towards him and use your free hand to grip onto the railing as you offer the favor to him.

“tie it on for me.” 

you lean over the rail and ignore the hot feeling all

over your body as you feel his eyes on your face. You finish tying your favor around his blade and as you pull away he grabs one of your hands and places a kiss not on the back but on the inside of your wrists before he lets go and gives you a final smile before he rides off.

you hurry back to your seat and put your hands against your cheeks to attempt them down as trisk grabs your shoulder and shakes you.

“I cannot believe it! I knew you were in a courtship but I do not know with whom! the crowned prince!”

“trisk-”

“ugh that was the most romantic thing i've ever seen you should have seen his face i've never seen a man look more in love,”

“He is not the man I am in a courtship with.”

she looks at you with a confused look, “whatever do you mean you mean to tell me he just did that because he was feeling kind.”

you groan and shove her as some other lord gets announced to compete against the prince.

“It is complicated.”

“and you will tell me every detail, immediately.”

“can't we wait until we are in private.”

she gasps and places a hand on her chest, looking around before looking back at you “is it so scandalous you cannot tell me here? y/n you dirty dog.”

you feel your father laugh next to you as you shh her. “you make me sound like a monster!” 

“Well right now you are giving me the impression you are one!”

“It is because it is more complicated than you think. I promise I will tell you everything once we are alone.”

she seems content enough with your answer and with one last look she turns her attention back to the field where the fight is about to begin.

you cannot take your eyes off of jacaerys as he seemingly easily takes down his opponent, you never knew it could be so attractive to watch a man fight. maybe it had something to do with the show of strength, yet it mattered little to you. you could watch jacaerys fight all day. especially after he wins he lifts up his blade where you can very clearly see your favor wrapped around it.

As the rounds go on you can still not bring yourself to even look in the direction of the royal box, soon enough Joffrey is announced and you smile at him as he makes his way towards you.

“I am sad to see you have already spoken for my lady.”

“I apologize ser joffrey.”

“It doesn't matter, I shall be quicker next time.”

you laugh and shake your head as he looks at trisk next to you and smiles, “your favor my lady?”

Trisk, shocked by Joffrey looks over at you and you nod your head as she rushes to hand over her favor to him and he thanks her before he rides off.

“Who was that?”

“That man I'm in a courtship with.”

she hits your shoulder in shock, “no way. he is so handsome.”

“what is that supposed to mean?”

“you know that's not what I meant, I just cannot believe it, you have two very handsome men fighting over you. how lucky.”

Yes, how lucky. one man you cannot possibly be deserving of and another one that could never even love you despite how kind he truly is. you had never even really grasped how odd the situation you found yourself in truly was. 

lost in your thoughts you're shocked when the crowd erupted into cheers. “who won?”

“were you not paying attention? Joffrey won.”

you sigh with relief and look at him as he waves to the crowd, he locks eyes with you and blows you a kiss. you smile at him and laugh as he rides away. 

The tourney continues and you begin to get lost in your thoughts over not only jacaerys but joffrey's offer and how king he’s been, your conversation with jacaerys last night, you get help but run your hands over your face.

“Are you alright, pumpkin?”

your father places his hand around your shoulder as you sigh and lean against him.

“why does courting have to be so hard?”

he laughs and squeezes you against him, “you’ll figure it out pumpkin.”

Soon enough it's the finale round and just your luck it happens to be a match between joffrey and the prince. 

“Who do you want to win?”

You groan and shake your head, “I don't know trisk.”

“Well I wish for joffrey to win, he asked for my favor.” “Are you trying to get me to say I wish for the prince to win?”

“I said nothing of the sort, you are the one implying something. Anyway, shouldn't you wish for him to win you gave him your favor.”

You ignore her as the round is about to begin, you hate to admit it but a part of you is praying jacaerys wins. You're on the edge of your seat as the two begin to ride towards each other but they end up missing. You sigh and grip trisk’s arm as they quickly race back at each other. But you miss what happens as the people in front of you stand and the crowd erupts into cheers. You all quickly stand up and you attempt to look around the people to see what happened.

“The winner is prince jacaerys velaryon!”

You feel the stands shake as the people cheer and clap and yell. You feel your heart swell as Trisk grabs you into a hug and shakes you. 

“And the prince as the winner will now crown the queen of love and beauty.”

The stands quiet as jacaerys rides around the stands, the people in front of you turn back and give you a knowing look before sitting down and jacaerys eyes lock onto you.

“There is no way he would, right?”You whisper to Trisk as she smiles.

Soon enough the crown is tossed into the crowd and falls into your hands.

“Oh he absolutely would.”

---

Taglist <3 (feel free to ask to be added !!)

@alexa554 @demedidnothingwrong

[saryasy]

tagged by @butchdiaz for a 2024 fic roundup but I'm copying them and adding my edits in there too 🥰 this is the most I've written in a year (and by a huge margin) by virtue of me writing my longest two fics ever back to back. so hopefully next year goes similarly because I already miss writing 😭😭

May:

sounds like forever (5k)

No, he doesn't remember falling. He just remembers looking at his best friend one evening, cooping up a sleeping Christopher into his arms, murmuring ‘I got this’ to a half-asleep Eddie who'd made to carry his own son instead. He'd watched as Buck walked quiet but confident steps to Christopher's room, depositing him in bed with a whispered ‘goodnight’, and thought, in his sleepy haze, I love him.

my very first buddie fic!! wrote it a few days after finishing the show for the first time. was still finding the characters voices but it'll always be special to me

August:

Season of Hope (After the Flood) (58k)

Eddie's summer of missing his son, unrepressing more than just his sexuality, and realizing that somewhere along the way he's fallen in love with his best friend and forgot to fall out of it.

And maybe that's okay.

I genuinely still can't believe this fic exists. and the fact that it does is all thanks to @livingincolorsagain. my longest fic ever yet I wrote it relatively quickly. and I still think back on the writing process fondly. getting to figure out where the story's headed. the chapter titles. all the lovely feedback. it was such a lovely journey even the parts where it fought me lol

September:

slow motion, double vision in rose blush (20k)

Eddie has kissed a man.

Eddie Diaz. His friend. His Eddie. Has kissed a man.

Which is strange because Buck is sure as hell he'd remember kissing Eddie. OR Buck is very normal about his platonic friend's kissing habits.

this one was literally a haze. I had an idea for them watching their first kiss through the screen and absolutely ran with it. I think that one scene in there is 12k on its own which is kinda insane. also only realized after posting that's it's my first published E rated fic

November:

merry christmas please don't call

MY VERY FIRST EDIT. my baby. I'd been thinking about getting into editing for a bit back then. but was way too intimidated to take the first step. then I heard this song on tiktok and was possessed by the ghost of shannon. and here we are

my heart is buried in venice

I still don't know how I made this one in such a short period of time. but also not complaining. loved putting the opening montage together so much

futile devices

I do. love you. yeah

December:

drawn to the blood

okay this is the first idea for an edit I ever had! idk how close I got to what I had in mind. plus it gave me hell. but it's out there now so!

What do you do about a haunted house.. (600)

a little tumblr ficlet I wrote half asleep because I was so happy I finally felt like writing again I couldn't let it slip through my fingers and risk forgetting it in the morning

so you are tired

my last edit of the year!!!! wasn't gonna post it but a told me to lol. initially it was more buddie focused. but the song is so buck I had to make some adjustments. absolutely loved cutting the song as I please lol

not to get too sappy at the end here but getting into this fandom and getting back into creating and getting to create new things and making new friends has been so so fun. thank you so much to everyone who's read and watched and said a nice thing in the tags and comments 💕💕💕💕💕

no pressure tagging @livingincolorsagain @sibylsleaves @buick118 @userbuddie @confessionseddie @chronicowboy

[stonesparrow]

Made some colored sketches of Sora, my version of Fem!Senku and the star of my current longest Dr. Stone fanfic, Etymologically Identical. Chapter 31’s is an outfit I came up with for a beach episode chapter.

Spoilers for the fic past chapter 32 under the cut!

The middle outfit is meant to be the feminine counterpart of Senku’s casino outfit, though since the anime isn’t there yet I guessed at the colors. Also I didn’t add the diadem described in Chapter 35 because…idk I didn’t feel like drawing it and Sora probably would have taken it off because it was annoying her.

[inkedinfusions]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐲 | eren jaeger chapter 11

⊱𖣂⊰ | In which you fall into a fictional world with the key to Pandora's box.

⊱𖣂⊰ | masterlist

⊰– prev   next–⊱

𝟏𝟏 | 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤

chapter word count: 3.7 k

content warnings: floch forster jumpscare warning, blanket warnings

a/n: Last chapter of the year! Happy New Years everyone. Sorry Floch lovers I really did try to be nice to him but he started being an asshole outta nowhere. He is still Very traumatized from Shiganshina part two and still hold the grudge against the volunteers, because he isn't yet at his Eldian Restoration arc. So, you know. Anyway. Also longest chapter to date! Idk how I went from thinking I wasn't going to finish this in time to writing a ton more of what I expected. Like always, special thanks to my beta reader for proofreading my stuff and picking out the name of the chapter when I ran out of creative juice :) edit: WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME I WROTE THE WRONG NAME LMAO

Thanks for reading!

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 way back to the tent barracks when the sun starts to poke its form over the horizon, turning the dark void of the sea into a mixture of gold and water. Loose rocks crunch underfoot as you make your way around the small alcove, tracing back the path you had taken before in your erratic state. 

You are much calmer now than before, even if the conversation with Eren mainly served to confirm your greatest fears. The explosions, the church, someone – Sasha, probably – lying dead on the floor, the gruesome march of the Titans. Even so, you know that panicking won't help you at this moment. 

It was frustrating before, because you’ve known this for quite some time now, and yet the incoherence of your half formed thoughts wouldn’t stop flowing no matter how much you tried to rationalize them. 

That is, until you found something else to focus on, someone else to share it with. 

So you trot along the wild grass, which sways gently in the morning wind, shaking off the remnants of the cool morning dew. Insects begin to wake up, buzzing all around, and the birds begin to sing from the trees, some more awake than others. 

The camp is already bursting with life, a completely different landscape than the day before, for now there were not only a few scattered soldiers here and there, but a brigade of people walking around. 

As you crane your neck around to see, you notice that a handful of them seem to be on break or in between tasks, as they walk leisurely around the structures. Others are hauling what seem to be a couple of crates onto a cart, and several more are tending to some horses. 

“This isn’t the way to the barracks,” you tell Eren, after realizing you are severely off the path that arrives there. 

“I figured you wanted to eat first,” he says. “You didn’t wake up for lunch yesterday. Or dinner.”

Oh. You really have to fix that – it's only when Eren says this that you feel the emptiness of your stomach, only fueled by the smell of food emanating from the ever approaching canteen. 

It is a temporary structure, just like all of the others in the camp, and so it carries with itself the flimsiness that is only present in things as fleeting as passing thoughts. Yet the canteen lingers just like many of your thoughts seem to do, providing all weary soldiers a hot meal and a chance to socialize with their fellow peers. 

You still attract some glances here and there, mainly from soldiers who didn’t get the chance to gawk at you yesterday, only knowing of your existence from the rumors that you're sure have already circulated back to the Walls. 

“What's for breakfast today, then?” you ask.

“Porridge, I think,” he says. “Get ready to eat the same thing almost everyday,” he continues, cracking a grin.

“I can live with that,” you say, pausing briefly before going on. “Back home, my parents left for business trips at times, so I just learned to do basic dishes and ate the same thing everyday.”

Unlike past instances where you have talked about your life before the whole… incident, you don’t feel a gaping hole inside your lungs, where all the air you attempt to take in leaves suddenly. There is nostalgia and longing in your voice for sure, but the hurt you had experienced at first when you tried to remember them had lessened in might. 

You noted this with satisfaction, not wanting to be chained by emotional thinking. Before you stood a road that would probably span for a few years, and you needed to think as logically as possible in order to traverse it. 

Eren nods and you both continue walking, until, to your surprise, he shares his own story about his own mother, Carla. 

“My mom used to make me and Mikasa little loaves of bread for us to take when we went out to look for firewood. We used to cup our hands around them in winter to keep warm.”

“Oh,” you say. “I'm sure she had a wonderful spirit.”

“Yeah,” he says. “She did.”

You aren’t sure why he brought up his mom at that moment. You know that the death of Carla Jaeger is one of his principal motivations in what he deems his goals to be, but it is also a deeply personal part of his past. While it would not be weird for someone to relate with their own story, it is unusual for him to share so. 

You resume your comfortable silence, enveloped by the sounds of the lively camp. Your steps aren’t coordinated by any means, but there is still a harmony to be found in the way your feet strike the earth. 

Eren steps to the side to let you in first, although you still have to wait for him to come in before you move forward in any direction. You could adapt to a certain point, having seen the series and thus knowing many of the protocols used – also a courtesy from Zeke who had transcribed some of Reiner’s reports. It was fun to memorize them, less so to watch them burn and disintegrate on the stove after you finished. 

You aren’t sure if you are lucky or not that you were dropped off in such an era. On one hand, it could definitely be worse; you could’ve appeared right when Eren activated the Rumbling, or at least months before, when there was not much you could do. You could have been found by literally anyone else but the Volunteers and your safety in Marley could’ve been in jeopardy, and that was not even touching on the opportunity to sail to the island presented by the faction. 

Could be better though. You could’ve never stepped foot in this world, nor the horrors that accompanied it. But now you are here, and so now you would do your best to ensure their happy ending – or at least one where genocide wasn’t the endgame. 

“So do I just take a bowl…?” you ask, unsure, as you approach a line you assume is meant for people who want their breakfast. 

“Yeah, and a spoon. They’re right there,” Eren says, pointing to a tray. “And then after we are done you just put any dirty dishes on that cart over there.”

He gestures to your left, and sure enough, there is a cart half full of dirty dishes just beyond where the line ends and the soldiers in queue are given their food. Although the vibe is definitely military, it still reminds you of a school cafeteria. The young median age of the soldiers definitely has something to do with it, and if you were feeling more pessimistic you would definitely dwell on it for longer than necessary. 

But today hunger triumphs it all, so you follow Eren to the queue, awaiting your turn. The line moves quickly, so it is not long before it's your turn to grab a bowl and spoon. 

The porridge is simple, beige, crumply. Not particularly appetizing but definitely better than you expected. It was similar in consistency to the oatmeal you used to prepare when Zeke went away on missions and you couldn’t muster up the energy to make anything more complex.

“This way,” Eren says, guiding you to thread around the occupied tables. 

On the other side of the canteen sits a table filled with the only people you recognize in the sea of soldiers; the members of Squad Levi. 

From where you were standing a few moments ago, and even now as you’re approaching, they look like any other teenagers during a lunch break, laughing and chatting and eating. But there is a weariness that hangs around them all, one you presume to be mainly because of the recent battle. Yeah, a year had passed, but you know that what happened there was something that clung to oneself. 

It is different from seeing them on the screen. There you couldn’t make sense of the atmosphere, but here it is clearer than ever that these are just teenagers forced to grow up fast in order to survive their world. 

As if sensing your gaze, Armin turns around to look at you, waving you over when he realizes who you are and who you are with. 

They are not in the corner, per se, but they are still hidden by a few full tables. Just as you approach, one of said tables empties, its former occupants chatting as they walk towards the exit. Now you know why you hadn’t seen them when you first entered; they blocked the view from where you stood. 

Eren greets them with a smile as he sits next to Mikasa. There are two other empty seats, one next to him and another one right in front of it, next to Jean. You hesitate for a second before choosing the first option. Jean was nice enough to you yesterday, even if he was kinda wary of you, but you don't want to make him more uncomfortable so you take a seat to the far right, sandwiching Eren between you and Mikasa. 

“Uh, hi,” you offer, a bit lackluster. 

“Hello!” Armin says, as positive as ever. He puts you a bit more at ease, and you hope that your eyes convey that to him. 

Sasha, seated in front to the far left, greets you in similar fashion, although she doesn’t speak because she is currently too preoccupied with scarfing down her porridge. Next to her, Connie raises a hand in greeting, and Jean, seated directly to your left diagonally, nods at you. Mikasa, on the other side of Eren, nods at you too. 

You feel like the new girl that has been taken in by the popular clique at school, if the clique consisted of humanity’s best soldiers and the school was their military branch. You felt severely out of place – like with Reiner, you knew too much about these people, yet also too little. You had seen their most vulnerable, their most raw moments in 4k, and still you didn’t know how to start a conversation with them. 

“Did you settle in okay? I know it's not the most welcoming environment,” Armin says. 

You suck in a breath, thinking back on your panic attack in the early dawn. “Yeah,” you lie. “The cot was nice after staying a day in a storage room. I don't recommend it if you're a fan of having a working spine.”

Connie chuckles at your half assed attempt at a joke. “Speaking of, we saw you disembark from the side, like…” he trails off, before pointing at you with his spoon when he finds the word he's looking for. “Like you were sneaking out. Were you?”

Sasha elbows him, almost sparking a fight between them, before Jean slaps both of them on the back of the head. “Stop squabbling,” he says. 

“Never thought I’d side with Jean,” Eren mutters, low enough for only you and Mikasa to hear. 

“I was… undercover? Yeah, undercover. I don’t have the age to pass for a soldier, so we had to get creative.”

“Oh!” Armin exclaims. “Undercover? Like a detective?”

“Much more boring than that, I promise you,” you say, forming an x over your chest with your arms. “I just did nothing for a day. I wasn’t allowed to leave the storage room, and even if the door wasn’t locked I’d be way too nervous to do that.”

“You were locked there?” asked Mikasa, her brows furrowing just a fraction. “What if the ship sank?”

“Uh,” you say, blanking. “I’d… figure it out? That’s actually a great point.” You mutter the last part, bringing a hand to your chin. It was great indeed that the ship did not sink. You weren’t sure if you would have been saved if it did. 

“It sounds to me like you were more of a prisoner there than an ally,” pipes up an unknown voice behind you.

You turn around to meet the owner of the voice, and you come face to face with a redhead with the most atrocious bowl cut you had ever seen. Almost everyone seated at your table groans at the unexpected arrival, and you squint at him, trying to figure out if you do know him. 

“Get lost, Forster,” Jean says, irritation clear on his face. 

“I'm just getting to know the new recruit,” he says, sitting in front of you. “So?”

“Sorry, what?” you say, hanging onto the last name Jean uttered. 

As far as you know, there is only one character with that last name; Floch Forster. And you are no fan of his. Worse, he was one of the only people you were glad to see gone. Now, though, that he was just another teenager, and a traumatized one at that, you feel a little guilty for smiling at the wake of his death. 

But let it be known that Floch Forster was one annoying little prick. 

“Your allies?” he repeats. “They locked you in a room?”

“Where are you going with this?” you ask.

Floch shrugs, clearly ignoring the glares he gets from certain people at the table. “Just wondering about your role in all of this. If you are as important as they say.”

“Can you leave?” Eren asks, although it's not really a question. “She’s–”

“Yeah, yeah, the reason you remembered Marley’s ship came yesterday and whatnot,” Floch interrupts. “So? Do you have the answers to all of our problems, new girl?”

You twirl your spoon in your hand, swirling the porridge while you’re at it. You would love to snap back at Floch with an equally snippy comment, but the truth is that you don’t have the answers to all their problems. If they were calculus problems you would have some of the formulas required to solve it, but the results are still an unknown variable to you. 

“I don’t know what my place in all of this is yet,” you say, moving your gaze upwards to look at Floch dead in the eye. “But I am being honest when I say I want to help. Even if you choose not to believe me.”

“You’re right,” he says, notably not even taking your words into consideration. “I don’t. You’re seen as the enemy here, new girl. I suggest you get with the program.”

You sigh as Floch gets up and walks away, presumably to wherever he’s assigned to in the morning. “Well, that went well.”

“He’s been an ass since Shiganshina,” Connie says. 

“Oh, he was an ass way before that,” Eren pipes in. “He just changed targets from Armin to Y/n today.”

Armin gives you an apologetic smile at the mention of his name, but you wave him off, not wanting to imply that Floch’s behavior was somehow his fault. 

“It's fine,” you repeat for what is like the third time in these last two days. “I get it.”

“Do you really?” Jean asks, with strikingly less antagonism than Floch. If asked, you would say that his tone carries more curiosity than hostility. 

“I know things, remember?” you say, strangely confident. “That’s not something everyone would be comfortable with. And I can deduce that that guy’s personality is not one of understanding.”

“You can say that again,” Sasha says. “By the way, are you going to finish that?”

Sasha points at your half finished porridge, forgotten in the midst of Floch’s arrival. To be honest, you aren’t very hungry anymore, but you make an effort to finish the meal, not wanting to go hungry in the middle of the day. You mouth a sorry towards her, and finish your breakfast. 

After leaving the canteen, you part ways with the others, finding yourself once again alone with Mikasa. You walk with her towards your tent, and you debate on bringing up what happened last night. 

“Hey, uh, Mikasa?” you start. “I’m very sorry about what happened last night.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” she says in that unwavering voice of hers. “We all get nightmares from time to time.”

“Oh,” you say, taken aback. “Still, though. Sorry.”

Mikasa nods, and while others would take offense at her cold gesture, you instead see the almost imperceptible friendly tone. If she really did hate you, or at the very least didn’t care in the slightest, she wouldn’t have woken up Eren to go after you. 

You smile, entering the tent you share with the girl. The blanket you vaguely remember tripping over is still on the floor, so you pick it up and fold it over your cot. 

“We are leaving for Mitras in about an hour,” Mikasa says behind you. “I left some clothes for you to change into there.”

Sure enough, there was a small bundle of garments at the foot of your cot, which you had somehow overlooked when tidying up. 

“Thank you,” you say. “Is there anything else I need to bring?”

“No,” Mikasa says. Then she turns to you, pausing her packing. “Do you know how to ride a horse?”

You are only half surprised at the question that seemingly came out of nowhere. “I just know the basics. I've never actually ridden a horse before.”

Writing and reading the Eldian alphabet, self defense, gun safety, lies by omission, horse riding. Those are all things you had to master before Zeke officially agreed to let you go to the island, citing them as indispensable things every young lady should know. Hell, he even threw in some etiquette lessons for if and when you met with the queen. 

Mikasa nods, turning back to her belongings. “You’ll be riding in the cart then. Even so, it was improbable for you to get your own horse in the first place, since you aren’t part of the regiment.”

“Is that a thing?” you ask. “Like, you get into the military so you get your own horse?”

“You could say that.”

“Sick.”

She frowns, pausing again. “No, we aren’t sick. Are you? Do you need me to show you the infirmary?”

You feel heat rush to the tips of your ears and you splutter, head reeling from her unexpected answer. “No! No, no, uh– it's just an expression. It means it's cool, you know?”

“I didn’t,” she says, schooling her expression. “But I know now. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“I’m all good,” you quickly amend before correcting yourself. “I mean, not all good, cause I get headaches from time to time, but like, good enough to be… yeah. I’m good.” You cut yourself off when you realize you are ranting, but add a smile at the end to seal the deal. 

“Oh,” Mikasa says. “I get headaches too. There are some teas I’ve found that help.”

“Yeah, thank you,” you say, not wanting to shut down her way of helping you, even if you know that her headaches aren’t something that can be dealt with in the physical world. “They did?”

“Here,” she says, handing you a few packets of tea leaves. “I leave that brewing for five minutes and the headaches subside. You could also chew on them if there is no time to boil water.”

You nod, taking the crinkly packets in your hands. The leaves move downwards when you turn them around, staying within the confinements of its bundled pouch. “Is each packet a portion?”

“Depends on how you like your tea,” Mikasa confirms, zipping up her things. “Yes, if you like it strong. Otherwise, no.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks again.”

Mikasa leaves the tent, and stands outside for a moment, giving you some privacy to change your clothes. The dark colored bottoms pair well with a sort of cream top, flowy enough so that the texture doesn’t bother you, given it is rougher than what you are accustomed to. When you are done, you follow behind her with your gathered things, ducking under the flap of the tent as you exit. 

“All done,” you say.

She simply nods, going back to her usual silent self as she directs you to a far corner of the stables, where everyone who would be going to Mitras stood. Some were getting the horses ready amongst the smell of hay and animals, others were double checking items in carts, one less full than the others. 

Armin spots you before the others and he walks towards you with a smile. You can see the other members of his squad in the background, each doing their own tasks in preparation for the road, already accompanied by their horses. You are even tempted to make a Jean-horse joke, but you contain yourself in time, knowing the boy would not appreciate it. 

 “Hi!” Armin says, with that cadence of his. “Are you ready for the road?”

“I guess so,” you say. “Uh, should I tell the Volunteers I’m leaving or–” 

“They’ve been notified you will be unavailable,” cuts a no nonsense voice behind Armin. Levi flanks the boy, stopping right in front of your little trio. “Ackerman,” he continues, “go help Jaeger with the boxes. His efficiency leaves much to be desired.”

Mikasa nods and walks towards Eren, who stands next to a big pile of boxes. You hear him groan when Mikasa starts helping him, but quickly silences himself at her glare. 

“Anyways,” Armin starts. “I’ll be going with you on the cart, so feel free to ask anything!”

“Don’t try anything,” Levi says.

“Yeah, thanks Armin,” you say, a bit hesitant, before nodding at the captain, so that he knows that his message is clear. 

Someone in the background shouts something, spurring everyone else to their own stations. Armin taps you in the arm when you get distracted, and guides you to the wooden open wagon, where you take a seat in one of the two benches that line the sides. Armin starts chattering about something, and you nod and smile when it is appropriate to do so. 

After a while, the wagon lurches forward as the horses begin walking, and you start on your journey to Mitral, capital city of Wall Sina.

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[its-time-to-write]

chapter 7

y’all I am SO SORRY this is so late. I’ve been caught up with end-of-year stuff at work and planning for next year. but I’m posting the last two chapters now🙃

I’m not sure how active I’ll be moving forward lol, 2025 is shaping up to be a pretty big year for me, professionally speaking, and that either means I’ll have more free time or less. Idk. But thank you for supporting my writing!!! You guys make me happy🩵🩵🩵

table of contents

found god at your ex’s house

To be entirely honest, the longest and only conversation you’ve ever had with goddamn Keeley Jones was at the Prada show right before you found out about Bean’s existence. 

You’d prefer to keep it that way but fucking Madeline is friends with her so now you’re headed to a stupid, awful, horrible girls’ night at her house and you’d rather fucking die.

Okay, maybe that’s a little dramatic. But your experiences concerning Keeley have been unpleasant at best. 

She first caught your notice in a tabloid on a yacht with Jamie and a screaming headline to match your screaming mind. It was two weeks after Jamie came over for the last time and apparently not enough time to get over him.

You’d gone straight to Madeline’s to scream into a pillow.

Then she was in your instagram, and when you had blocked her she appeared in fan edits and fucking WAG accounts. Then she was at the Prada show and in magazines and on the telly. It felt like no matter how much you tried to shut her out, Keeley fucking Jones remained as a painful reminder.

It wasn’t her fault per se, but you hated the role she played in Jamie’s deterioration. 

And now Madeline is fucking friends with her.

“What the actual hell, Madeline,” you groan. “Keeley fucking Jones? Are you serious? She’s the fucking worst. AND she’s not to be trusted! The girl hardly has two braincells to rub together.”

Madeline rolls her eyes. “I understand that you hate her. But she’s kind and sweet and actually a bit brilliant. I’m not going to tell her about you or Bean, but she’s not some vile, boyfriend-stealing bitch.”

“I’m not saying that,” you reply as you try to get Clare to burp. “I’m just saying that the girl could stand to grow up a little.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. She has. I think you’d like her.”

“Fuck off,” you scoff right as Clare burps. “See? Clare agrees.”

Madeline shrugs. “Clare is three months old. She doesn’t get a vote.”

You wrinkle your nose and say, “You mean unless she agrees with you, right?” and Madeline smiles her most angelic smile. 

“All I’m saying is you’re more than welcome to come with me tonight.”

“I’d rather die,” you inform her.

—

Jamie has the day off. They won against Aston Villa on Sunday so he’s supposed to be resting, but he’s never been very good at that.

So he does what any self-respecting person would do and goes to his ex’s house.

He forgets Roy fucking Kent is going to be there until the man himself has opened the door but Jamie musters up some arrogance and breezes right by him. Keeley knows he’s coming anyway, so he’s not going to be harassed by some grumpy old twat.

Roy must be sick or something because he doesn’t say anything. If Jamie weren’t so consumed with his own worries he might actually be concerned.

But he’s not so he sits on Keeley’s couch like he belongs there and lets her hand him a cup of tea before she sits down next to him.

Roy isn’t far off, pretending to read a book but Jamie is abso-fucking-lutely positive he hasn’t turned a single page yet.

But absolutely FUCK it because he needs Keeley’s professional, girl opinion.

“I’ve got a kid,” he says, and both Keeley and Roy do absolutely horrible jobs at pretending they’re shocked.

“Fuck off, how the fuck did you know?” he protests. “Was it Ted?”

Roy and Keeley exchange a Look and it just makes Jamie madder.

“Technically it was Coach Beard,” Keeley says in a mousy voice. “We figured you’d tell us when you were ready, Jamie.”

That’s just confusing. “How the fuck did Beard know?” he asks.

“Kid looks just fucking like you,” Roy says and that makes Jamie mad too because when the fuck did Roy see Clare?

“I saw them on the green when I was with Phoebe,” Roy clarifies and Jamie takes a minute to file that away as Roy Kent’s first-ever non-swearing sentence.

He says, “fucking hell,” because really, fucking hell. He went from not knowing he had a baby to knowing to apparently the whole Richmond coaching staff knowing (and apparently meeting) her.

Keeley asks, “Is that why you’re here, babes?” and her gentle voice actually makes him want to fucking cry so he just nods and puts his head in his hands.

“Don’t know shit about being a dad,” he says, voice muffled, and Roy slams his book shut because apparently he has shit to say.

“Fuck off, Tartt,” he says. “Stop being a little bitch.”

Keeley exclaims, “Roy!” but she’s also curious about what he has to say because she doesn’t do anything else to stop him.

“I fucking mean it,” he continues. “You fucking come here expecting to fucking cry on the couch and be told you’re fucking shit at something and throw a fucking pity party, so fuck off. You might be a shit father, you don’t fucking know, but that girl doesn’t fucking think so and if I were her, I’d hate your fucking guts. So untwist your fucking pants and stop being a fucking whiny little bitch. Go fucking be a dad and if you’re shit, you’re shit. But stop looking for fucking sympathy for something you’ve made up in your stupid fucking twat brain.”

With that he pushes himself out of his chair, swears at his knee, and disappears into the kitchen, presumably to remain silent for the next year since he’s met his word quota.

Jamie looks at Keeley as if to say, Are you hearing this prick? but Keeley just lifts a shoulder and says, “He’s right, babe. You’ve got to actually go do something about it.”

So Jamie pinches the bridge of his nose and recounts everything his mum told him over the phone for some extra review.

—

Clare is easy, as far as babies go, but for some reason tonight she’s decided to be an absolute terror. She won’t eat, won’t go to sleep, won’t calm down. She just cries and cries and no matter how many times you check her temperature or her diaper, she cannot get it back together.

It doesn’t help that you’re tired, either. Like, newborn-level tired. And hungry, too. You’d order in but Clare hasn’t even allowed that so you open the fridge as best you can while bouncing Clare up and down. All you can see is a jar of gherkins, a can of soda, and some lemons. 

And a fucking banana which must be Madeline’s because you’d rather die of starvation than eat that shit.

Fucking hell.

I am not going to cry you tell yourself sternly, except that doesn’t do anything except allow tears to well up faster than if you’d just let it alone.

You can’t call Madeline because she’s at Keeley’s and you’ll be damned if you interrupt her girls’ night. Madeline didn’t sign up to be tied down and she deserves a non-parent friend, so she’s not an option.

For a split second, you debate calling Jamie. But that’s a level of desperation you haven’t quite reached. You close the fridge and are saved from deciding what to do next by a knock on the door.

Clare wails like she’s being murdered, so you hope it isn’t the police but it isn’t, it’s just Jamie with a bag of groceries. He’s in the house setting up in the kitchen before your brain catches up with your eyes and Clare just cries the whole time. 

You know exactly what he’s making before he’s even pulled out half the ingredients. It’s chicken pesto risotto, the dish you always begged him to make whenever he had a moment of free time. Jamie can cook maybe four things in total, but damn he can cook them well. He slices some bread, puts it on a plate with some butter and hands it to you, swapping the plate for Clare so easily that if you didn’t know better you’d think he’s been doing it his whole life. She stops crying the moment she’s in his arms and honestly, you’re too tired to worry about it. You crash on the couch and fall asleep after two bites.

It’s dark out when you wake up, but the lights are on in the house and it’s warm. Someone’s gently caressing the top of your head and saying your name, so you open your eyes to Jamie standing over you.

He’s looking at you with a soft expression, and your heart aches. It all feels too painfully normal.

He says, “Food’s ready,” and holds out a hand for you to grab.

You hesitate for the barest fraction of a moment before taking it. “Little Bean’s asleep in her bed,” he continues. “You hungry? Figured we could eat then you can go back to sleep.”

You nod. “Smells good, J. Are you planning on spending the night, then?”

Jamie shrugs. “I thought- I don’t know, I thought maybe you could use a break.”

He sits next to you at the table. The food’s been set out, and it’s still warm. It’s also the first meal you haven’t been responsible for in a good long while.

“So you’re just here now,” you say. “You’re the kind of person who shows up, cooks dinner, puts the baby to bed and watches telly in the evenings? You could barely handle a relationship, and now you want a fucking family? You can leave me all you want, but I swear to God, Jamie, I will murder you if you hurt Clare.”

It’s frustrating because it feels like you’re at an impasse. Jamie can come back once he’s shown he’s changed, but he can’t really show he’s changed if he can’t fucking come back, can he?

It doesn’t matter that he probably has changed and you know deep down that even he isn’t a big enough dick to abandon his daughter.

Jamie says, “I am. I mean, I won’t. I mean, fucking hell, you don’t have to fucking murder me, yeah? Just give me a chance, like.”

You snort. “Do you even know how to change a diaper?”

Jamie says, “Googled it, didn’t I?” and that makes you genuinely laugh. Of course he did. But you laugh too loud and it wakes up Clare, who lets you know she’s irritated with a shriek. You knock your head lightly against the table and whisper, “Fuck,” before putting down your fork. You push your chair out and Jamie stands, lightning-fast.

“I got it,” he tells you, and you raise an eyebrow.

You reply, “Okay,” because if he’s going to act like a father, he’s going to have to put in the work. And you’re hungry and this is your favorite meal. Besides, what’s the worst that’s going to happen?

So Jamie goes to Clare’s room where she’s sobbing like there’s no tomorrow and you continue to eat while straining your ears to make sure Jamie isn’t panicking.

Unfortunately, you didn’t account for the fact that the worst thing that could happen is Jamie comes back out after ten minutes with a sleeping Clare on his chest and he looks so fucking hot that you want to jump his bones then and there. 

Jamie is thankfully oblivious. He sits back down and pats Clare on the back so she doesn’t wake up again.

“How’s the food?” he whispers. “Haven’t cooked in fuckin’ ages.”

“Good,” you whisper back and then you lapse into silence. 

 “I can stay the night, if you want,” Jamie offers after a bit, and you glare.

“Not like that,” he hastily amends, “I mean if you want to sleep. I can feed Clare and whatever.”

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Jamie. What the fuck do you want from me? You can’t fucking come back here and play house when you want, and I get it, your dad’s a piece of shit and you don’t want to be like him. But you’re in the fucking Prem, Jamie.”

(“Got relegated,”) he mouths, but you just keep talking. “Fine. You’re in the Championship but everyone knows you at least are making it back to the Premier League and someday you’ll be with a team in the Champion’s League and that’s a lot of travel. It’s a lot of nights alone, and you’re not exactly the kind of person who likes sleeping alone.

Jamie looks offended at that, but it’s true. He’s twenty-six and in his prime.

This whole thing is just one giant circle with no solution. 

“Oi,” he says, and he’s got his serious expression on. “I don’t want anything from you. I want you. Not even because of Clare, but she’s mint. I was coming to find you the other night because I wanted to fix things. I told you that. I meant it, I want to get back together. I know I’m hard to love sometimes but swear down, I want to make it work. Keeley’s on me about commitment and shit and I dunno, it sounds nice. I’m fucking tired of fucking around. That shit’s exhausting.”

“Yeah, because a baby and a girlfriend isn’t fucking exhausting as well.”

Jamie wrinkles his nose. “Fucking Garnacho’s having a kid. If that little shit can handle it, I can too.”

You concede. He has a point. “Fine. You can spend the night. I’m going to shower and then pass out, which means you’ve got the dishes and Clare. You can sleep in the guest room, yeah? I’ll set up the baby monitor.”

Jamie smiles, and before you can really think it through, you lean over to kiss his cheek.

“Thank you,” you say softly before heading upstairs. You’re going to get an earful from Madeline later, but for now you’re going to get good sleep for the first night in a long while.

next chapter

[knockyasocksoff2022]

hey im dying, where's our doomed yaoi i missed my babies 😔😔🙏🏻🙏🏻 (talk abt "ideals" fic :33)