#plus the minis and maps!!!

[greatpistachiopie]

our destiny's children

[mistress-light]

Ghost of Tsushima PC • (dev. Sucker Punch Productions)

[skylordhorus]

you can go subterranean???????

[eccentriccryptid]

Moms will literally blame everything but themselves and then also cry about it

[yo9urt]

horse!!!!!!

[spenceobsessed]

post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, smut with a plot

summary: spencer can't help but despise his "replacement", especially during an undercover mission in a nightclub.

MDNI 18+

“this is insane.” penelope garcia mutters on the other end of the phone call. “there’s no way jeffery was able to absolutely take himself off the internet.” she huffs, the keyboard clicking in the background. “i’m gonna keep working. i’ll be back in a jiffy, i swear!” she says sweetly before hanging up.

the unsub, jeffery hogan had abducted then murdered four young women in los angeles california. the team had been in la for three days now, and jeffery had already killed two more women before they could stop him. all of them were getting antsy and a little angry.

you sigh, leaning back in your chair as the rest of the team begins talking amongst themselves, minus spencer, who had been staring at a map for twenty minutes.

“reid.” you say, catching his attention. he doesn’t look up, but you can tell that your voice startled him slightly.

“hmm?” he says, annoyance lacing his tone. you roll your eyes. he had been an absolute dick to you since day one. the whole team had described him as a saint, yet, you couldn’t see it. yes, he was attractive, but that didn’t distract from how hateful he was towards you. plus, you had been nothing but nice to him when you first met him, doing nothing to get on his bad side.

“did you make a connection between the locations?” you ask curtly. he huffs. “i don’t see you doing anything helpful.” he snaps, finally looking up from his map to glare at you.

“spence,” jj begins, joining the conversation unknowingly. “any connections?” he smiles and turns to face her, like you hadn’t just asked the same question.

“the one common location that overlaps with all the crime scenes and significant places in jeffery’s life is the ‘night owl’, a local night club.” reid says, smirking at you when he finishes his sentence like a teenager. you scoff.

emily gives them a look that says “act professional please”.

“we have no idea what he looks like, we only know bits and pieces of his life that garcia could dig up, how are we going to catch him?” matt asks, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, a coffee in hand.

“i could go undercover,” you begin with a shrug. “most of the girls he abducted have been around my age and have my same features.” emily nods in agreement.

“one issue.” rossi says. “the unsub has always abducted women on dates.” you nod. that’s true.

“i could go with you.” matt says, standing up straight and taking a sip of his coffee. you open your mouth to thank him but emily cuts you off.

“no offense simmons, but what if we sent in reid instead? he closer matches y/n’s age and resembles the victims boyfriends more closely.”

spencer opens his mouth to protest but tara cuts him off with a smile. “great idea, you guys should leave in an hour or so, you better start getting ready.��

you watch as reid fights the urge to say something rude, but is quickly whisked away by emily.

jj helps you get ready in another conference room of the precinct, dressing you like the average clubber.

your outfit is a small, tight, red mini dress, with matching heels and accessories. you had to admit, you looked good. you found yourself wondering what they had put reid in and whether he would find you attractive in this tight dress.

“you look amazing.” a voice breaks you out of your trance as you’re putting in an ear piece. you smile, turning to face emily.

“thank you.” you say softly, using your hands to smooth out your dress. “i think i’m ready.” you add, slightly nervous. emily reassures you that you will do great and asks you to follow her outside.

that’s where you’re met with spencer reid. he looks unfortunately handsome, hot even, wearing the most casual “spencer outfit” you have ever seen: corduroy pants, converse, and a white button down. the white button down was sheer linen (very beachy) and allowed you to barely see his chest. you quickly remind yourself that he is in fact a dick, hoping that will somehow make him less attractive.

you watch as his eyes wander your body. emily seems to notice and clears her throat.

“you guys gotta get going.” she breathes out a smirk on her face.

reid walks over to the side of the car. you smile slightly as he opens the door, your smile fading as he slides in alone slamming the door behind him.

“petty bitch.” you mutter. your heels angrily clicking against the asphalt as you walk to the other side of the suv, ripping open the door and sliding in with your arms crossed. you slam the door behind yourself, eyes glaring into the side of reid’s face.

“look,” you begin, your tone angry. “if this is going to work you need to at least try to pretend not to be a fucking asshole.” he scoffs, turning to face you.

“watch your tone.” he says lowly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. your arms are still crossed and you watch as spencer’s eyes go from your face to your tits, then back up again.

you remind yourself that indeed, he's just a man. he may be a genius but behind that, he’s simply just a man with needs. you were going to make tonight hell for him.

you smirk, eyes glaring into his. “do your fucking job and i just might comply, doctor.”

he turns his head away from you, staring out the window, a new type of tension in the air.

“can you guys hear me?” jj says through you ear pieces. “yeah.” reid says, you can hear how angry he is, just through one word.

the team gives you both a rundown and reminds you both of your parts.

“…remember you’re a couple!” garcia reminds you. the team agrees loudly on the line. “yeah,” alvez says. “pretend to like each other for one night.”

“we’ll try, alvez.” you reply as the suv pulls up in front of the busy nightclub.

you look over at reid. “open my damn door and look like you fucking mean it.” you say through gritted teeth. he doesn’t respond as he steps out of the car, shutting his door quietly and makes his way over to your side of the car. he opens your door with a fake smile on his face, putting out his hand for you to grab. you get out of the car, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“grab my waist.” you demand. he huffs under his breath, reaching his large hand to rest on your waist. he leans in to whisper back. “you will not dictate this night. i have over ten more years of experience than you, on this team. you do not get to boss me around, y/l/n.” he says through gritted teeth, pulling away from your ear with a fake smile on his face. you don’t have time to respond as he says; “let’s go, baby.”

the nickname hits you like a brick, especially the way it comes out of his mouth so effortlessly. in an attempt to control your composure, you smile and lean against him as he rubs his hand lovingly across your waist.

you both enter the night club, the mix of bright lights and darkness temporarily blinds you as you grip onto spencer for support.

“don’t respond, but we see you’ve made it inside. go grab a drink from the bar then hit the dance floor.” emily orders. spencer nods, leading you towards the busy bar.

as you approach the bar, the bartender asks what you both want. “i’ll have a club soda with lime.” spencer says, turning his head to look down at you. “what do you want, baby?” he asks, rubbing circles on your waist softly. you smile back up at him pretending like you don’t want to kill him and subtly dig your ass into his crotch. he sucks in a breath.

“i’ll have a vodka soda.” you say with a sweet smile on your face. the bartender nods going to make the drinks.

you look back at spencer, his jaw clenched and his breathing heavy. you set your phone down on the bar and “accidentally” knock it off of the counter.

“oops!” you say dryly, bending down to pick it up, your ass now rubbing against his crotch. you subtly feel something twitch in his pants.

“y/n.” he warns you. you nod innocently. “hmm?” you hum. he moves his hand from your waist. you look back at him to silently scold him, but he quickly uses both hands to push you away from his crotch. he slides his hands down your waist, to your ass, then pulls down your dress in one quick motion. a man standing to his left begins complaining loudly about how he can no longer see your "fattie". you almost thank him, then remember that its fucking spencer you're dealing with.

he doesn’t say anything and simply hands you your drink, leading you away from the bar and the creepy men, to a nearby table.

you bite your lip to hold back hateful words that dare to spill out. you stand in silence, spencer sipping his drink while you chug yours.

"you look miserable." emily says in your ears. "do something." she adds.

"wanna dance, pretty boy?" you ask him, the nickname falling from your mouth accidentally. you pretend like it was on purpose as spencer looks up from his drink, slightly stuttering over his response.

"y-yeah, yeah." he repeats, regaining his composure. he grabs your hand and leads you towards the crowd of sweaty people dancing, only looking back once to make sure you were still there

spencer scans the crowd as he pulls you into his chest harshly.

"i'm not just some doll you can throw around, reid." you yell over the music, sick of his bullshit. he looks you in the eyes and shrugs.

as the song changes, couples around you begin to make out.

"kiss me, reid." you say, realizing the awkward dancing in a crowd of horny couples would defer the unsub's attention. spencer doesn't seem to hear you. "reid." you repeat, his eyes still scanning the room. "spencer." you say, the first time you've ever said his first name to him. this catches his attention. his gaze finally falls to you, his frame towering over yours as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"i need you to kiss me, spencer."

the usually dick-ish man makes no cocky response. instead, he simply tips his head down capturing your lips in a kiss. the kiss is awkward at first, but quickly turns heated as you press your body against his. his hands, which were loosely on your waist move downward, rubbing circles on your ass and somehow moving you closer to him.

you run your hands through his hair, feeling him moan softly into your mouth. his sweet noises immediately go straight to your now-wet-core. you break the kiss for a second, to catch your breath, your faces still inches apart.

spencer's pupils are blown, his hair is messy, and his lips slightly swollen, tinted red from your lipstick. fuck, you want to devour him.

spencer quickly resumes the kiss, this time you don't have to ask. you easily feel how hard he is already, with his cock pressed against your leg.

you groan softly as you push your tongue into his mouth, eliciting more sweet noises from the handsome man.

"nice job guys, we have a suspect at 3 o'clock." emily says into our ears, reminding us that we aren't alone.

“let’s go somewhere more secluded.” spencer whispers, his breath hot on your cheek. he wants to lure the unsub out. you nod, waiting for him to move. instead his hands are still on your ass, his eyes on you, like he’s taking a mental picture.

“pretty boy.” you say almost inaudibly. “let’s go.” he spins you around so you’re in front now, able to maneuver your way out of the crowd. one of his hands rests on the small of your back protectively as you head towards the back corner of the club, a stark contrast to the way he was treating you less than 10 minutes ago.

“the hypothetical unsub’s eyes are still on you guys but he hasn’t moved, we can’t seem to see his face on camera. you need to get him to move closer.” jj announces in your ears.

“she’s telling us to kiss again.” you whisper. he nods, placing his large hand on your cheek and swiping his thumb across your lips. you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into kiss him. he picks you up slightly, just enough to allow you to sit on him as he takes a seat on a random couch.

as he moves from kissing your lips to your jaw and neck, you instinctively begin rocking your hips against his, feeling how hard he is under you.

he groans softly against your neck, his kisses becoming sloppier.

“y/n.” his tone desperate, the use of your first name alarming. “if you keep going i might not be able to maintain professionalism.”

you bite your lip excitedly. “do you want me to stop then, spencer?” his eyes stare into yours, his hands on your hips.

“no.” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him and kissing you again. he moves his hands upwards as his lips move downwards, slowly leaving kisses and rubbing your now-visible nipples through the thin fabric for your dress. you suck in a breath at the new sensation, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

“the unsub moved into the light, it’s jeffery. sending alvez and rossi in now to apprehend him. you guys can stand down, nice work.” emily says, startling them slightly. you pull away from spencer, your underwear undeniably wet and your cunt begging for attention. you awkwardly remove yourself from his lap, sitting next to him on the sofa, noticing that in fact he was hard, an outline of his dick highlighted in the odd club lighting. he squirms in his seat slightly, obviously trying to readjust.

“y/n,” he says, noticing your eyes on him. you hum in response, your eyes moving from his cock to his face. “bathroom.” he says simply.

he doesn’t give you an opportunity to respond, simply getting up and leaving the room. you wait for a few seconds, processing his words and attempting to wrap your head around the fact that an hour ago you hated this man and now you were dying for him to fuck you.

a few minutes pass and you make your way to the bathroom where you don’t even knock, you simply walk in. spencer is there waiting. immediately as you enter the bathroom, he locks it, then attached his lips to yours. you moan softly into the kiss, jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. he, however, seems to as other plans as he sets you down on the sink and lowers himself between your legs.

he leaves soft kisses up your thighs, your legs now thrown over his shoulders. “spencer,” you beg, his lips dangerously close to your cunt. “please.”

he smiles as you beg, hooking his finger on your underwear and pulling them down your legs roughly. he lowers his head farther in between your legs, licking a slow stripe down your cunt, causing you to squeeze your legs around his head and moan.

hearing your reaction, spencer moans softly against your pussy, the vibrations making you gasp.

unfortunately the club music had been turned off and if anyone were to walk by, they would probably hear you making sounds. you cover your mouth with your hand to make sure you guys don’t get caught.

he moves his tongue farther into you, the sound of his mouth on your soaking wet cunt making lewd sounds that fill the small bathroom.

you moan into your hand, bucking your hips against his face.

he pulls his mouth away from you and without skipping a beat he inserts one of his large fingers into you, grinding his crotch against the edge of the sink to get himself off.

you open your mouth to tease him but he interrupts you by adding another finger into your pussy. you can’t help but moan loudly, feeling your walls clench around his fingers.

“so good for me.” he says breathlessly, his fingers’ pace rough inside you and his hips fast against the sink counter.

“spencer,” you say in between ragged breaths. “i’m so close!” he smiles at your words, removing his fingers from your pussy with a pop.

you groan softly, hating the feeling of emptiness.

“spencer.” you warn, sitting up to get a good look at him. he has a look in his eye, a smirk on his face.

“what’s up?” he says nonchalantly, licking you off his lips and his fingers. you ask yourself how he can be so calm when he was literally just finger fucking you and eating you out. his cock is still dangerously hard, a spot of pre-cum on his cute little pants. you catch yourself imagining how big he is.

“fine.” you huff, seeing how he didn’t seem like he wanted you to finish. you insert your own fingers into your swollen cunt, pumping them inside yourself like spencer had been only a minute ago.

you over exaggerate your moans watching as spencer begins to rub himself through his now tight pants.

“i’m not going to beg you, pretty boy, but i need your cock inside of me right now.” he smirks at your words, making his way back over to you, hands moving to your face, kissing you passionately.

“i’m pretty sure that was begging, y/n.” he says as he pulls away from the kiss, beginning to unbutton his pants.

however, loud knocks interrupt him. "spencer?? are you in there??" emily's familiar voice, fills the room.

"uh, yeah! i'll be out in a second!" he says, beginning to re-button his pants, his cock still visibly hard. emily says something inaudible from the other side of the door then walks away. you lean forward on the sink counter, resting your head on spencer's shoulder, his arms wrapping around you.

after a second of peace, you hop of the counter in an attempt to fix your appearance, sliding back on your awkwardly soaked underwear.

"can we please finish this later?" spencer speaks up, catching you off guard. you smile, your brain still processing the fact that an hour ago you wanted to kill this man.

"yes, please."

part 2 :)

[heartsforseo]

Straw hats with a member/ S/o who still sleeps with plushies.

A/n: so I’ve been gone for almost 2 months but shhh I got some motivation now😼😼. PLUS I got this inspo from reading something somewhere. SO TY FOR GIVING ME THE THINGY TO WRITE AGAIN. request=open requested: <yes> <no> wc:970 ft: the straw hats (excluding chopper) warning: ??

⭑Luffy honestly wouldn’t care. If he ever crashes into your room (girls' room) and sleeps on your bed, he’d even shove the stuff toys away.

⭑When he sees your pouting/sad face he’d be clueless and continue whining for you to hop on the bed with him.

⭑When you finally told him why you were mad, he just tilted his head and let out a LONG sigh

⭑Would use his gum-gum abilities and get all your stuffy back in the bed (while groaning. He does NOT want to share)

⭑Speaking of sharing, why coddle a plushie when you have Luffy? Would def get jealous and maybe even tear one of them.

⭑P.s. He did…

⭑Zoro, just like Luffy, couldn’t be bothered. He’d probably think of it as a design at first. I mean, a pirate sleeping with plushies??? That’s rare

⭑But as the creator said, everyone in the crew is a weird person. So, here you are—in your room. Shock and in awe.

⭑Believe it or not, Zoro was sleeping with one of your plushies (that looked like a reindeer…)

⭑He had always denied sleeping next/with them. (Only if you convinced him enough, he’d let out a groan but still follow)

⭑You’d have to tease him about it now. I mean, Zoro sleeping before you??? Shocking with that 3 hrs sleep schedule.

⭑And a certain chef might’ve heard what you’ve said and used it against a certain swordsman…

⭑Nami, would even tax the poor plushies:~((

⭑Jokes aside, she’ll think of it as cute and nice decorations. They’re cuddly, colorful, and good for distress.

⭑But sometimes there’s a limit. She couldn’t even sleep on her OWN bed cuz of how many you got.

⭑Would roll her eyes when she saw you pout and give you a 35% discount.

⭑To help you get “rid” (as she says) of plushies, she’ll take a mini tangerine and place it on her work desk.

⭑Now she talks to it after dinner, drawing the map of the world.

⭑Ussop I’d say would make a story about how he once traveled to a stuffed toy island.

⭑Everything there was colorful, soft, and cuddly! He’d even point at one of your plushies and say he met them on the island!

⭑Your plushie would just stare and stare and stare… Until Ussop had to let out a fake cough and do his other stuff.

⭑He’d ask for your permission to get one of your plushies for support. (You said yes ofc).

⭑Now, whenever he has to modify Nami’s weapon/ whenever he’s alone from the group—he’ll hold the small plushie tightly and hug it, waiting for ideas to pop up.

⭑Sanji the beigest of them all. I could see Sanji:

⭑1) getting jealous about it. You have a whole husband in front of you. And you’re picking the plushie to cuddle…THAN HIM?!

⭑Would give the plushie dirty stares (especially if it was given by someone not him/by his crew)

⭑When you’re doing something else, he’d wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your neck.

⭑He’d give the plushie a smirk and laugh a bit. (Nurse gising na po sya)

⭑OR

⭑2) Sanji would write that down in his “All about Y/n!” Notebook and put hearts all over it.

⭑He would give you plushies, and on every island you visit, he insists on getting you at least one stuffed animal.

⭑Would even sculpt one of his foods as your plushie.

⭑Plus he’d get all giddy iddy when he sees you coddling the plushie he bought. It’s really satisfying to see when the person you love appreciates what they give you.

⭑Robin would let out a smile and maybe even tease you (when she's feeling it)

⭑Might get jealous when you're spending more of your time with them. She's your crew member and s/o, you should focus on her!

⭑She once woke up with your back in front of her, and you were cuddling your plushie.

⭑Sad to say you couldn't find your stuffies for a week… :(

⭑But Robin was there for you!

⭑In the end, it was a win-win situation!

⭑FRANKY FOUND IT CUTE CUTE CUTE.

⭑While you were worrying about how he'll react (unknowingly to you, he already found out and named one of them cola jr.) Franky already made a small plushie (robot) that does the SUPEERRRRRRR with him.

⭑When he saw you sad that one of your plushies got teared up, he'd secretly take it and repatch it (w/h metal scraps)

⭑Would sweat when you confronted him about it, and even DENY IT.

⭑"Franky you're the only one I know that'd use metal scraps for repair…"

⭑"Oh."

⭑Brook is a cutie patootie.

⭑He already knows what you like, from the panties you wear to the plushies you like!

⭑Would make one of those and have some delightful little tea parties. If you're too occupied to join in, why not let your mini-version take part instead?

⭑Anyways, if you'd ever show him a soul king merch/plushie. HE'D FLY OVER THE MOONN.

⭑He didn't know they were selling those! Especially when the cane he has can be removed and shown as a knife.

⭑Our good boy Jinbe.

⭑While on his trip, he saw a lot of them. But of course wouldn't bother to buy one.

⭑I mean, you're on a business trip for sake. And a pirate should always be ready and need no time for aesthetics.

⭑Well, that's what he thought BEFORE he met you. When he saw your room he was SHOOK

⭑How did you have time for all of this? How were you gonna sleep? How will you keep them clean?

⭑Many thoughts were roaming in his head. But when he saw your adoring smile, he made up his mind and would do anything to make you happy.

⭑Even keeping your plushies clean.

A/n: I hope you all enjoyed it. nd sorry for the almost 2-month break.

[mint-yooxgi]

Kinktober Day 18 - Naga!Seonghwa + Asphyxiation & Predator/Prey

@thetypingpup Said: Naga!seonghwa, Asphyxiation + Consensual Predator/Prey A/n: I enjoyed this one just cause it's a little tamer than the rest imo. I also tried something a but different with the asphyxiation aspect, so I hope you enjoy it! Sort of a nice, calm reprise considering the last Hwa prompt I did lmaoo Warnings/Genre/Rating: 18+ MDNI - Smut, Mature, Established Relationship, Possession, Monstrous Features Word Count: 1,465 Kinktober 2024 Mini Masterlist

Nature walks have always been one of your most favourite things. It’s a way to plug out of the world of technology for a while, and just immerse yourself in your immediate surroundings. It lets you see things and experience moments you normally would ignore in favour of social media or simply being on your phone. Plus, it’s a great way to clear your mind.

Which is exactly how you found this exact trail.

Granted, it’s been a little while since you’ve explored the jungle. The trip isn’t an easy one to take, but you manage to get away to this exact location at least once or twice a year. The locals are always kind and welcoming, and the cuisine is to die for. Besides, there’s one reason in particular that you always seem to come back to these shores.

The sun is beginning to set, and you curse yourself for not bringing a map. It’s been far too long since you’ve dared to traverse this particular path. Considering it’s one of the most confusing, you realize far too late that you probably shouldn’t have decided to walk it in the evening. 

Sundown when you’re lost is one of your worst enemies.

At least you have a bottle of water, your phone, and a small emergency flashlight should you need it.

The jungle is eerily quiet, shadows stretching across the trees the further the sun sinks behind the hills. Every now and then, you hear some leaves rustling behind you, and the occasional snap of something breaking under pressure.

You swallow thickly, eyes darting around the area.

For the past few kilometres, you’ve had this creeping sensation as if someone is trailing you. Only, every time you pause to look behind you, you see nothing but foliage covering your path. Every sway of the leaves you brush off as the wind, even though you haven’t felt a breeze for quite some time now.

The sound of something dropping to the ground can be heard, much too close for your own comfort. Leaves begin to rustle as if something is beginning to move towards you, cutting its way through the bush as if it’s done this many times before.

There’s no doubt about it. You’re being stalked.

Wasting no time, you immediately hasten your pace. Using the last few rays of the dying sun to orient yourself, you take off towards the east. At least you know the town is in that direction, and even if you end up cutting through a path less travelled, it’s a much shorter distance to traverse than if you tried to loop back around to the start.

Pulling out your phone, you attempt to call for help.

No signal.

Various curses escape you as you march through the bush, tucking your phone away for safe keeping. You’d rather wear down the battery on your flashlight first before you drain your only means of contact to the outside world. Normally, you’d adhere to not even looking at your phone while on a nature walk, but this is one of the reasons you always bring it with you.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Pulling out your little flashlight, you flick the switch to turn it on. The dark shadows cast by the surrounding trees make it hard to see the final rays of the setting sun. With the oncoming darkness, a chill begins to fill the air, and a shiver caresses your spine.

Behind you, you swear you hear something slithering amongst the trees.

Your heart leaps into your throat, and you waste no time in taking off into the darkness in front of you. Feet pound the earth relentlessly alongside your racing heart, the blood rushing through your ears making it hard to hear your surroundings.

What really makes your blood run cold is the low, hissing chuckle you can hear cutting through the trees.

Panic begins to rise in your throat, and your foot catches on a root. Luckily, you only stumble a little bit, managing to stay on your feet only for both your flashlight and water bottle to go flying out of your hands. Your flashlight bounces off a rock, an audible crack sounding before the light flickers off somewhere beneath the bush.

You don’t stop running. The creature - or whatever it is - that’s following you sounds hot on your trail, and you don’t want to waste time fumbling around in the dark for a broken flashlight. Your water bottle is not more important than your life, either. 

Besides, you still have your phone.

Darting around the trunk of a large tree, you press yourself right up against it. Your lungs burn, attempting to catch your breath as your palms scratch against the hardened bark. Frantically, your eyes dart all around, attempting to see any type of movement through the darkness. Your ears strain, but all you can hear is the frantic beating of your own heart.

A small slithering sound rises from off to your right, and you clasp your hands over your mouth. Despite your heavy breathing, you’re hoping it helps to muffle your panting even just a little bit.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you swear you see a flash of gold glint through the darkness.

The faintest of breaths tickles the side of your ear.

“Hello, My Love."

Your whole body shakes, turning your head slowly to the left.

“I finally found you.”

A pleased hiss escapes him as you freeze in your spot, a scream getting lodged in your throat.

His tongue darts out to scent the air, and his eyes flutter shut.

“You smell divine.” Golden eyes open to stare deeply into your own, pupils nothing but thin slits as his tongue traces over his lower lip.

Finally, it’s as if your body catches up to your brain, and you feel yourself back in control. You go to push yourself off of the tree and scramble away from him, only for something smooth and cool to wrap itself around your ankles.

Your breath hitches, and you find yourself pinned to that tree by a long torso, deep greens and blues seeming to intertwine in the most delicate of scales.

“Ah-ah,” A wicked grin paints sinful lips, tongue darting out once more. “You’re not going anywhere, My Sweet.”

“What do you want?” The more you struggle to free yourself, the tighter he wraps around you.

His head cocks to the side, almost in disappointment.

“The first time you’ve seen me in years and those are the first words you decide to speak to me?” A pout tugs at his lips, shifting in closer to you. “I thought I meant more to you than that.”

“Seonghwa,” You sigh out his name, squirming beneath his embrace.

“I missed you. Did you miss me?” He blinks those wide, shining eyes at you before leaning in. Tenderly, he nuzzles against your neck, tongue flicking against your pulse. “It doesn’t matter. You came back!”

Again, his tail tightens around you.

Your breath hitches, finding it harder and harder to breathe. Tingles erupt on your skin, beginning to feel lightheaded as he begins placing tender kisses along your neck.

A pleasant shiver caresses your spine.

“Do you remember our promise?” He whispers, peeking up at you so lovingly through his lashes.

Taking as deep of a breath in as you can, you nod your head. Your eyes flutter shut, the ghost of a confirmation on your lips.

“I was starting to worry you had forgotten.” He says, eyes drooping. Subconsciously, his tail tightens even further, restricting your movements entirely. “You wouldn’t forget me. You couldn’t! We mean too much to each other.”

“Seonghwa-“ You manage to just choke out his name, vision beginning to fade in the corners.

“It’s okay, My Sweet. Remember our promise. You know I would never hurt you.” He hums, caressing your cheek so tenderly with his one hand. “Sleep. Fall into the arms of the one who loves you most. I promise I’ll be right here when you wake up, and then, we can finally have the start to our forever.”

Your eyelids start to droop, breathing evening out as your consciousness begins to fade. Yet, for all the danger you seem to be in, you cannot help but be completely calm. After all, this is what you wanted. It’s what you agreed to. What you both agreed to.

The moment your eyes fall shut, Seonghwa unravels his tail from around you. His arms are immediately there to catch you, a loving smile pulling at his lips to mirror your own. Nothing but tender love and affection can be seen in his golden gaze as he holds you close.

“Finally,” He hums, tracing his fingers delicately over your features. “You’re mine.”

[heyimkana]

24 Hours with You (Satoru Ver.) - Ep. 2

Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: The second episode of a mini-series where you’ll live through the hours you spend together with your husband, Gojo Satoru. Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Female Reader Genre: Domestic AU, Fluff, Romance, Humor Word Count: 9K Warnings: no plot, just a compilation of fluffy scenes that you share with your whipped, super annoying husband, Satoru. there's a bit of a smutty scene but it's not explicitly written.

Episode 2: Daylight

07.04 AM

The morning sunray seeps through your windows, kissing your skin with familiar warmth. The red roses Satoru bought you yesterday greet you with their sweet scent as they sit prettily in a glass vase that glimmers like crystal underneath the light. You take a quick scan around, expecting the worst but surprisingly, besides the bedroom, your place is still recognizable despite the drunk antics that you and your husband did last night after finishing a whole bottle of wine to yourselves. 

Your work doesn’t start until nine, and although usually, you would leave at 8.15 to avoid the risk of turning up late, after noticing what day it is, you reckon that traffic won’t be so bad. Plus, your home is only around ten minutes away from your office anyway. It’s the main reason why Satoru insisted on buying this condominium in the first place—to give you more time to yourself (and for him to cuddle with you on the sofa because you always look so snuggly in the morning). Maybe you can take it easy today. Brushing your teeth and changing your nightgown into an oversized hoodie (Satoru’s) and a pair of comfy sweatpants, you get yourself to work.

Among the clutters on the floor are your cocktail dress and Satoru’s expensive suit and tie, scattered all over the carpet, giving you a quick flashback of what happened after you arrived home from the fancy restaurant he took you last night. The exchange of heavy, scorching kisses in the elevator… Your spine pressed flat against the wall with his head between your thighs the second the front door was shut close… A bottle of red wine tasted directly from each other’s tongue… And…

You glance down at your hands, feeling heat flaring in your cheeks as your eyes land on the thin, but quite noticeable, purple bruises that circle your wrists like dark bracelets.

Last night was… wild. 

“God, we’re not young anymore,” you mumble to yourself, shamefaced, as you head toward the kitchen. There are empty plates and half-filled glasses left abandoned on the aisle, and a pizza box that you ordered at two in the morning for an emergency snack (Satoru always gets hungry after sex), but it will only take you a few minutes to clean everything up, so everything’s fine.

Today’s start isn’t so bad.

The condo that you and Satoru bought together felt too spacious and grand at first. The neat white walls somehow screamed lonely, desperate for human touch. But after living here for three years, three whole years of a happy marriage with occasional fights that never lasted a night, it felt truly like home—the kind that you’ve never had the joy to experience before. 

Silly Polaroid photos of the two of you are plastered all over the fridge. A collection of your favorite novels sits on the bookcase among healthy pileas that tumble elegantly over the shelves. Satoru’s favorite Hatsune Miku figures are there too, despite your constant begging to just throw them away, but that’s marriage, isn’t it? You just have to compromise on every single thing. Even when the color of Hatsune’s stupid hair—why does it have to be turquoise of all shades?—ruins your aesthetic.

A huge, beautiful mural showcasing the map of the world can be found painted on one side of the wall. In some countries, there are words written by colorful markers, telling a story of the memorable journeys you’ve had together. Satoru’s messy handwriting used to be there but you scrapped them all because drawing a bunch of arrows pointing at different cities and writing down the words “We did it here” or “We also did it here” and “We toooootally did it here” with wink faces on the sidedon’t exactly seem appropriate, especially since Megumi’s son often comes by to visit his favorite uncle. (The word ‘favorite’ here is self-proclaimed. Megumi never said that. His son also never said that. Satoru is just delusional.) 

You catch a whiff of your husband’s perfume, still somewhat lingering close, a sweet reminder of your chaotic days in high school and the moment your romance bloomed during your college days. Oh, also, coffee. You’re gonna need a lot of that if you want to get through all of your work meetings today. The smell of freshly brewed coffee is one of your favorite scents in the world and you smile to yourself as you pour it into your mug. 

“Someone looks happy,” Satoru sniffles as he places his chin on your shoulder, long arms winding themselves around the dip of your waist. And cuddly, he adds in his head. Though he always finds himself swooning seeing you in your cocktail dress or work attire, he adores this look the most. Messy bun, bare face with acne patches on your chin and nose, his hoodie covering your body to the middle of your thighs. You're precious.

He won’t say this to you though, not today.

“Someone sounds a bit grumpy.” You tilt your head just enough to peck him on the cheek. “Took you long enough to finish.”

“Well, it would’ve only taken me ten minutes if somebody was kind enough to lend me a hand.”

“What, your two hands aren’t enough?”

“They don’t feel as good as yours.” He’s pouting. Even if you can’t see it, you can tell he is. “I didn’t finish, by the way. Thank you for asking.”

A chuckle escapes you. “Honey, you finished, like, four times last night.”

“You’re missing the point,” he sighs. “I don’t think I’ve told you this but…” He turns your body around, making you face him with your cup between your hands and your back leaning against the kitchen counter. He’s still in his boxer shorts, you notice, but he’s made the effort of throwing on a green pastel shirt, hanging loose on his body and unbuttoned to his chest. Satoru rests his palms on the surface, trapping you between his arms. “I think I’m getting so dependent on you now that I can’t even cum on my own.” 

“You can’t do anything without me these days, actually,” you comment, running your mouth without realizing that he’s desperate for your sympathy. He gives you a look, staring flatly at you. “And I can’t do anything without you, my love,” you add with a smile, tapping his cheek. “There. Happy now?”

“Wouldn’t kill you to say it once in a while,” he answers, and you roll your eyes. “I’m just saying, I used to do it so easily, you know? I didn’t even need to look at actual porn to jerk off. I was so in control of my body. Just had to picture you naked on your knees with my di—”

“Careful.”

He cuts himself short. “—and I’d be done in, like, two minutes.”

“I see. And here I thought today was going to be boring,” you reply, sarcasm running thick in each word.

“But these days…” His eyes droop. “It hasn’t been that easy. Sometimes I couldn’t even, umm… get it hard,” he admits, blushing. It’s a bit of a confession that he’s been trying to keep to himself for a while.

“What, really? Like, at all?” 

He sheepishly nods. “There’s this one time when you were away on a business trip and it had been so long since we had sex so I wanna… You know…”

“Play with your carrot?” You suggest, taking a sip of your coffee. “Rub the eggplant? Stroke the banana?”

There’s a momentary silence where he just looks at you, unamused. 

You, also, stay hushed. 

Then, “Caress the fresh zucchini—”

“I think that’s enough, babe.”

“Oh, so when I say it, you don’t like it. But when you say it—”

“You’re not saying it at the right time—You know what? Forget it.” Satoru pushes himself away from the counter, fuming and you laugh. 

Catching him by the wrist, you whirl him back to you. “I’m sorry. You’re just so cute. I think this is the first time I’ve seen you act like this.”

“Can you be serious, please? This is actually very important to me.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You stand on your toes, kissing his pout away. “I’ll pay attention, I promise. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I’m a bit scared,” he says, his shoulders sagging. He looks like a sad puppy. A giant, 193cm tall sad puppy. Even your puppy didn’t look as depressed as him now when she was on the verge of death. “What am I going to do when you’re away for two weeks and I can’t even jerk off once?”

You know you don’t have to jerk off, right? Your mouth is itching to say the words. “Two weeks aren’t even that long.”

“Of course, they are!”

“Okay, so you can’t jerk off for two weeks. What is the big deal—”

“What’s the big deal?!” He gasps, as dramatically as ever, one hand slapped against his chest. “You’re asking me what’s the big deal?! What if this is a sign of early erectile dysfunction?!”

Hereeee we go. “From someone who came four times last night, what are you saying?!”

“Excuse me, are you a doctor?” His voice drops, his face solemn. “Are you an urologist?”

You sigh. “No.”

“Do you have a penis?”

“Satoru—”

“Do you?”

You’re rubbing your head, headaches incoming. “You wouldn’t have married me if I had one now, would you?”

“Not true but okay. Anyway—”

“Wait, hold up, what does that mean—”

“The point is,” he puts pressure on his words, pinching your nose so you’ll stop talking. “No penis, no opinion. Also, multiple studies by Chinese researchers have shown that in order to avoid getting prostate cancer, men should release their sperm around two to four times a week. And—” He holds up a finger in the air, shutting you down before you even begin to open your mouth. “When you orgasm, your brain releases a surge of dopamine, right? I need that, especially when you’re not around to help me manage my stress.”

You press your lips together, as tightly as you can, afraid that you’ll break into another bout of laughter if you don’t. “I see.” It’s so hard to keep your voice away from shaking. He’s so serious, it’s almost out of character for him to be this serious. “So you’re, uhh… You’re stressed, huh?”

“Oh, I am, baby. I’m so stressed out.” He swats his bangs out of his eyes, pushing back his hair. “Look at me. I just woke up and I look like this. You think it’s not stressful to look this handsome every day? I have to work twice as hard as anyone else in my building just to be taken seriously. Especially by the CEO.”

“You mean your daddy.”

“My CEO.”

“Who’s your daddy.” Right after you hear yourself saying the line, you snort, failing to contain your laughter. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I just had a flashback of the time when you said those words to me in bed and—” You wipe a tear away, your body shaking from your titters. “God, that was cringe.”

Satoru narrows his eyes. “So you are laughing at me.”

“Yeah, but not because of the things you’re saying right now.” The more you try to explain, the more he seems insulted. “Sorry. Continue.”

His nose flares. He would’ve been vexed if you didn’t look so adorable holding back your giggles. “All the other workers think I’m not fit to be next in line—to lead the company. They think I get everything I want just because I have a pretty face and I’m his only son.”

Well, I mean, they’re not wrong, you ponder to yourself, though you know if you mention it out loud, he’s going to cry. “They’re jealous of you.”

“And then of course there’s that guy, Kenjaku, who clearly wants to take my place so he’s been trying to get close to my dad,” Satoru clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Can you believe they went golfing together? Gol. Fing. My dad never even let me touch his golf club!”

Oh, he’s ranting. He’s so upset, he’s ranting like a tired housewife and it’s hilarious. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” You spread your arms, offering him a smile. “Do you want a hug?”

“Okay,” he mumbles cutely, moving toward your embrace with his lower lip jutted out. He goes down to his knees, tangles his arms around your waist, and nuzzles his face against your belly. 

“I think they just feel intimidated by you.” You land a hand on his head. For some reason, his hair is always extra fluffy in the morning. “Smart, charismatic, and sexy? They don’t stand a chance against my husband.”

Usually, you would have him go back to his feet (figuratively and literally) right away after hearing such words, but Satoru only lets out a small hum—responding but not quite agreeing—as he buries his nose deeper in your fabric. Seems like this one is serious. “Toru, you’ll be okay.”

“I can’t do it without you, babe,” he says, his voice muffled by your hoodie.

“What, getting that promotion without people judging?”

“No. Cumming.”

“Oh, we’re going back to that.” You chortle lightly, stroking his strands. “Okay, listen.” Cupping his cheek, you lift his face to meet your gaze. “You don’t have erectile dysfunction.” You return the small space between you, your lips curving up beautifully as you bend down and give him a light kiss on his forehead. “And next time, I’ll take care of your needs. Promise.” Noticing how his eyes take a quick look at the kitchen counter, you add, “Not right now, Satoru.” 

“Meanie.” Your husband groans, playfully biting your hand. “And how are you planning to take care of me the next time we’re separated from each other?”

“I’ll do something to help you, uhh… do whatever it is you need to do.”

His eyes light up. “Will you FaceTime me and give me a strip dance with Closer by Nine Inch Nails playing in the background?”

That’s… oddly specific… “And why does it have to be that song, if I may ask?”

“No reason, really…” He averts his gaze. “Just… You know, it makes me think about you…” He seems a bit shy.

Wait. Shy? Satoru is?

How does the song go again?

You tear down my reason  It's your sex I can smell  You make me perfect  Become somebody else  I wanna fuck you like an animal

You send your husband a blank stare. Look at him. This pervert is asking you this while acting like an embarrassed schoolgirl standing in front of her crush. “If it’s not too much to ask,” he says, so cutely as if he was asking you to make him his favorite dish for dinner.

Of course, it’s too much to ask, are you insane? “Or,” you suggest calmly with a forced smile. “We can do slightly more romantic stuff like calling each other on the phone and—”

“DO PHONE SEX?” Stars in his eyes. There are stars in his eyes.

“Uhh…”

“Please say yes, please say yes!”

That isn’t exactly what you have in mind, but can you even decline when he’s like this? Telling him no right now would feel just as awful as when you (because of Satoru, of course) accidentally revealed the truth about Santa to your nephew, giving Megumi a hard time feeding his son who started a hunger strike as he went into depression mode for three days. (This is a horrible comparison, by the way. One child was asking about Santa while this one is asking for the opportunity to whisper “I wanna fuck you like an animal” in your ear when you’re a hundred miles away from home. Two totally different cases, but you know Satoru will behave the same way as your nephew if you reject his wish. Probably even worse.)

With your head throbbing, you murmur, “Maybe just a little…”

“Promise?” He holds up his pinky, grinning from ear to ear.

All that positive energy you had this morning? Drained. “Promise…”

“Yaay~” 

As you break into a cold sweat thinking about the unfortunate event that will soon befall you (aka the phone sex), Satoru, is already back to his giddy and frisky self. Well, as long as he’s happy, I guess. 

“What are you having?” He asks, jumping back to his feet. “Coffee?”

“Mm. You want some?”

“Nah. I’m craving hot chocolate.” He reaches a hand toward the high drawer to get hold of his favorite mug, looming above you and intentionally knocking his chest against your face as he traps you in between. He giggles when you glare. He’s childish that way.

“How very girly of you.”

“It’s to relieve my stress.” He pokes you in the stomach. “Also, liking hot chocolate doesn’t make me look girly.”

“Sure, but trying on my skirt does.”

“Babe, come on,” Satoru whines, his earlobes turning scarlet. “How many times are you going to hold me on this? I was just messing around!”

“Honey, you were alone in our bedroom, wearing my maxi skirt and checking yourself in the mirror.”

“It was a dare from Suguru.”

“And taking selfies.”

“So I can send some proof to Suguru.”

“Not the point, Satoru.”

“That is the point! Babe, can’t you see? Saying no to the stupid dare would’ve made me seem less manly than he is.” 

“So you’d rather put yourself in a skirt?”

“Well, duh!”

You can’t find the logic in his excuse, you really can’t. “In my defense, though,” he adds. “I thought you were gonna be out for a little longer.” 

“What would’ve happened if I were? Gonna put on my thong next?”

“No,” he scoffs, trying to regain whatever amount of dignity he has left. “Also, it’s not like you’ve never done something embarrassing before. Remember that time when we went to Megumi’s birthday dinner and you ended up telling his nana a dick joke?”

“That was also you.” 

“No, no. I meant, that one with the salaryman meeting a guy in a horse costume—” His realization falls upon him. “Oh my God, it was me.”

You shake your head, amused. “It’s okay.” You turn to face the counter once again, placing your mug on the surface before you reach forward to grab a bit more cream.   “After being married to you for three years, the only thing that will surprise me is if you grow another head. Anything else, I can manage.”

“Why does this sound comforting and insulting at the same time?”

“Because it’s both.”

With his lower lip protruding, Satoru hugs you again from behind, his chin settled on the top of your head this time. This is why he claims to be all stressed out whenever you’re away. He’s so keen on physical touch that he can’t bear even a few inches of distance between you when you’re around. He reaches up to open the counter, grabbing a jar filled with cocoa powder. His chest is pressing against your spine, his other arm never leaving your waist. “I think we run out of sugar,” he says. “Wanna drop by the mart after work? I’m gonna have meetings all day today, but I can ditch the dinner party.”

“You’re not coming?”

“Hell no. Suguru’s hosting. He makes the worst parties.”

“Isn’t he the guy who’s rumored to be in love with you? I heard about it from Shoko.”

“Yeah,” Satoru snickers, very childishly. “I was the one who started the rumor by putting a note on his desk that said ‘I wish one day you’ll look at me the way you look at your wife. Your silver hair and pretty blue eyes have captivated me from the moment I laid my eyes on you. I dream of tasting your soft lips every night.’ It was so easy to copy his handwriting, I just couldn’t help it. Yuki found out about it and she started gossiping and by the end of the day, everyone knew. I took the note away before he noticed. Suguru never found out I did that, didn’t even know what was going on. He was so confused when people tried to cheer him up. I saw Choso giving him a pat on his shoulder, saying ‘We all love you for who you are, never change.’ And Suguru was like, ‘Uuuh, thanks, but I don’t want to be a salesman forever.’ And so both of them were confused.”

Your mouth twists into a grimace. “You are evil.”

“I prefer the term genius,” he corrects you, seemingly proud of his deed. 

“Also, soft lips?”

“Aren’t they?” He seductively raises an eyebrow. To be fair, yes, they are. Even on the coldest night, they’re still as soft as a butterfly’s wing. He has claimed many times that he only used a lip balm if necessary but you don’t buy it. There must be witchcraft involved. He puckers his lips, ready to kiss you and make you experience the thick jealousy you have of his pretty mouth—because, really, all these lip balms you have and your lips are still chapped during winter. You dodge, pushing your palm against his face instead. The big puppy that he is, he licks it.

“I think I’ll be out of the office around seven today,” he informs as you scrunch up your nose in disgust, wiping his saliva away.

“Okay. Pick me up first?”

“Like you need to ask,” Satoru smiles, granting a cute kiss on your forehead. He dabs his thumb on the corner of your lips, rubbing off a little bit of sugar from the leftover doughnut that you enjoyed with your coffee. He cleans it off his digit with his tongue, randomly ruffling your hair as he makes his way to the living room. 

“Oh, wait, almost forgot,” he says, retracing his steps.

“Hmm?”

Satoru snatches a jar from the counter—the one that you just used, filled with cream—and puts it in the highest drawer, the closest one to the ceiling. “Just a little payback,” he sniggers. “For giving me blue balls this morning.”

With him being 193 cm tall, he simply needs to stand on his toes for a little bit to reach it, but you? “I think you’re gonna need a ladder.” His teeth flash in an irritating grin. “Enjoy your creamless coffee for the next few weeks, Sweetcheeks—OUCH—BABY, THAT’S MY KNEE!”

“Grab the jar.”

“Fine.” He retrieves it with a grumble, handing it back to you. “But I’m reporting you for domestic abuse.”

You raise your wrist, showing the actual bruises he left on your skin. “I’ll see you at court then.”

“Babeeeeeee~”

***

07.21 AM

“Satoru.”

Your dear husband has been lying down on the couch for the past ten minutes, a head of velvety hair—which somehow still smells pleasantly like your favorite shampoo—resting on your lap. With a pair of round glasses perched on his nose, he turns deaf ears to everything that’s going on, focusing on nothing but moving his thumbs to win the next round of Momotetsu. As his eyebrows wrinkle in deep concentration, Satoru punches the buttons on his Nintendo Switch, glaring at the screen and swearing under his breath.

“Satoru.”

“Wait, babe, I just need to choose this card and—NOOOOOOOO!” He launches himself forward, sitting up with his mouth gaping, his eyes shaking in horror. “Did I just—yep, lost a million yen. Fuck this game. A Martha card?! A fucking Martha card?! Oh, I’m gonna—” He slams his console against the cushion. Repeatedly. He’s 29, and he throws a bigger tantrum than Megumi’s three-year-old son. 

“Watch your blood pressure, Honey.”

“Who even invented this game?! Stupid as shit. Babe, do me a favor and don’t ever let me play—” His phone rings before he can finish. Throwing one glance at his screen, Satoru mutters, “Oh, great. Here we go.”

The name Dumbass Monk is written on his phone. You wonder who it is.

Satoru answers through gritted teeth. “Fuck you, Suguru.”

Ah, yes, of course.

“No, how the fuck should I know that the card was gonna choose me?!” he barks, his voice bouncing off the walls. “I wanted it to choose you—oh fuck off, asshole, you’re broke as hell, you smell like wet socks, and your wife hates you. Wait, what was that?” He suddenly switches his voice, doing his best impersonation of a nosy old lady talking about the latest gossip. “You don’t have a wife? Not even a girlfriend?” He maniacally cackles. “I don’t know, man, I don’t think I’m the loser here. Unlike you, I’ve got a super hot wife who loves me unconditionally.” 

You flip a page of the book you have sitting on your lap. “Only ‘cause you’re rich.”

“And—” Satoru continues yapping on his phone but he makes sure to poke you on your side for your unnecessary comment. “She’s not just hot. She’s a complete package. She smells like daffodils, she makes me breakfast every morning and she looks so fucking gorgeous when she fucks—”

You slap a pillow against his head.

“—feeds me cookies,” Satoru finishes lamely, wincing, one hand raised in the air as a form of surrender before he takes another hit. “No, I’m not gonna pay you, idiot, you won purely by luck!” He then gasps, his jaw dropping low. “Did you just call me a monkey? Oh, that’s it—” 

Satoru is on his feet, shouting, growling, fingers jabbing and clenching as his mouth runs wild. You can somewhat hear the other man’s voice, giving you enough idea of what they’re arguing about although you can’t make out every word. Suguru’s tone is always soft and melodious when he speaks, but his insults are truly on another level. Chuckling to yourself at the strings of expletives that tumble out of their mouths, you watch your husband yell until blood pools on his face, “Fine! Don’t come crying to me when you have erectile dysfunction, which, based on all the non-existent sex you’ve been having, I know you will! Good day!” Suguru is still calling him names when Satoru ends the call with, “I SAID GOOD DAY!”  

You flip another page of the novel you've been trying—and failing due to someone’s endless shouting—to immerse yourself in. “Seems like you two are close.”

“Oh, he can die, I don’t care.” Angrily, he tosses his device away, landing his head back on your lap with the loudest groan he can muster. “Whatever. I’m still a better player than he is.”

“Of course, you are, honey,” you respond, your hand naturally falls back to his hair, caressing it like you’re stroking a cat’s fur. 

It only takes a few seconds before your husband stops shaking in vexation, even looking a bit sleepy from your comforting touches. “Were you talking to me before?”

“Mm. There’s something I wanted to ask you.” Placing a bookmark in between the pages, you close your book and set it down on the coffee table next to you. “About before, when you told me about your co-workers. How did you know that they’ve been thinking about you that way?”

He blinks, not expecting you to return to your previous conversation. “Aaaw, honey, are you worried about me?” From wishing someone to suffer crucially from impotence to wiggling in joy like a thirteen-year-old girl at the slightest sign of affection, your husband really does have an emotional range of a teaspoon.

“Of course, I do. You’re my husband.”

His mouth curves upside-down, his eyes glimmering, “Babeee, that’s so sweeeet.”

Though you're not so sure why he’s so happy when you just stated a fact, you let him be. “So what happened?”

“I heard them chatting when I passed by the smoking room one afternoon. I don’t smoke—you know I quit a long time ago—so I didn’t know they were ganging up on me and talking shit about me behind my back. Isn’t it gross for a bunch of thirty-year-old men to gossip?” His face scrunches up in disgust. He, the same man who spent two hours on the phone talking to the Dumbass Monk about the recently hired secretary, Maki Zenin (who’s apparently so strict and vicious that, in Satoru’s words, “Almost made me cry in fear when I arrived late at my lunch meeting last week.”), actually had the audacity to ask that question.

"What did they say?” You ask him.

“They said if it wasn’t because of my family name, I would’ve never gotten promoted to C-level.”

“But that’s not true!”You catch him off guard with your sudden fervor after spending the last conversation acting so dull. “I’ve seen how much you worked for this! Satoru, you earned that position fair and square!” Your husband might act frivolous almost every hour of the day, but there were times that he missed his sleep trying to come up with a new marketing strategy to promote their upcoming products. There were hours spent with him taking one conference call after another with his clients, even at two in the morning from the comfort of your living room due to the difference in their time zones. He’s the CEO’s son, true, but he worked just as hard, if not more, as everyone else in the company.

The more it sinks into your brain, the more irked you become. “Who said this?” You snap. “Huh? Who talked shit about you behind your back? I want names.”

Satoru lets out a chuckle, his eyes thinning into a line. It’s been a while since he last saw you being this protective of him. It reminds him of the old days in high school when you, despite acknowledging yourself as being his archenemy, were always quick to defend him when someone threw shade at him. “Honey, relax—”

“Was it Naoya? Or was it Toji? It was Toji, wasn’t it? Oh, that bitch—”

“It wasn’t Toji,” Satoru says, holding you by the hand in a futile attempt to calm you down. “Though you could still punch him if you want.”

“Why, did he do something to you?”

“I just hate his face.”

That’s very Satoru behavior of him that you don’t even bother to comment. “Nobody talks shit about my husband. If they think you get things done easy for you, it’s because you’re so smart, you make things look easy.”

He sits up, turning around to face you with warm, round eyes. “You think I’m smart?”

“Are you kidding me? You’re the smartest man I know.” You give him a light punch on his chest. “If I were your dad, I would’ve still given you that promotion, regardless of our relationship. You’re just that good at your job.”

“That’s…” He swallows. “This is the first time you’ve complimented me like this.” It’s a surprise to him, a very pleasant one, causing contentment to fill his heart.

You feel awful once you notice that even though you constantly thought of him this way, you never spoke your appreciation out loud. “Satoru, I’ve always admired you.” You rest your fingers on his knuckles, apologizing. “I know you complain about having to wake up early to go to work every morning, but despite your flippant attitude, you bear a deep sense of responsibility. You always manage to surpass people’s expectations—surpass mine and I already thought highly of you.” You give him a squeeze, smiling more with your eyes than your lips. “You make me proud. Every day you make me proud.” 

Satoru mirrors your expression, a soft blush painting his cheeks as his joy engulfs him whole. He wraps his arms around you, sinking his nose in your hair as he pulls you close. “You’re not throwing compliments at me just to cheer me up, are you?” He whispers and it’s only during times like this that he lets his vulnerability show. Satoru always shines like the brightest star, his eyes brimming with confidence, but there’s still a part of him—part that he conceals from everyone else except you—that needs to be consoled. He’s still a little boy who wishes for a gentle pat on the head and you always give the warmest one.

“I’m not complimenting you, I’m telling the truth. But yes, I am trying to cheer you up.” You return his embrace, your hand sliding up and down his back. “I wouldn’t have said this if you were okay ‘cause I know it’s gonna boost up your ego even more. You’re already annoying the way you are, so…”

He titters. “Can we stick to you being nice to me?”

You echo the noises he made, returning the space between you just wide enough to kiss his cheek. You cup his face with your fingers, your thumb caressing his cheekbone. “I’m sorry people said mean stuff about you… Are you okay?”

“I am now.” His smile is softer than the clouds. He leans close, cutely nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours. “This is why I need you in my life. You act aloof around me but you always think about me more than you think about yourself. You pretend to be ignorant, but you never fail to notice all these efforts I made. You care about me more than anyone else.”

Watching him put your feelings into words makes you feel flustered but you don't deny it. Not when he speaks only the truth. “I can also kick everyone’s butt for you.”

“As someone who has witnessed your heroic tales in high school, yes, you can, one hundred percent.” You feel his smile forming on your skin as he kisses your temple. “But just having you around me right now is enough. And it’s fine. I don’t care what anyone else thinks about me, at least not anymore. As long as you’re proud of me.”

“I am,” you say without missing a beat. “I’m proud of you, Toru.”

He takes away your hand that’s been warming his face, kissing your wrist while he maintains eye contact with you. “That’s all that matters to me.”

Your stomach swirls at the intensity of his gaze, his voice—just above a whisper—bears the same kind of tenderness and affection he portrayed on the day he asked you to marry him. His lips rub against your veins, the softest kiss against the softest skin. Your hand seems tiny in his grip but it’s a perfect fit. Every part of you is when it comes to him. 

“So, uhh…” You clear your throat. “What are you going to do now?”

“I guess I’ll just have to keep doing my best so I can prove them wrong.” His grin returns. “I’ll make my wife feel even prouder of me.”

He replies to your little chuckles with a kiss, light but sweet. Despite your heart wanting more of his touch, of the heat of his lips against your own, you focus on the matter. “Why have you never told me about this before?”

“Because I never cared about it too much,” he replies with a shrug. “Work only feels overwhelming when you’re not around. When you’re with me, no matter how stressful my workplace is, I’ll feel at ease instantly.” He lays his forehead on your shoulder, rubbing his face against the fabric. “So, don’t leave me, okay? If I have to go out of town, I’ll have you hide inside my suitcase so I can carry you around.”

You chortle lightly. “And if I have to go?”

“Well…” He pulls away, his eyes fixated on the shape of your lips as he caresses them with his thumb. He looks back at you, his fingertips resting on your nape, holding you still. You find your breathing stalled as his own fanned your lips. “I guess I’ll just have to convince you to stay.”

And when he kisses you again, you know that he doesn’t mean with his words.

***

07.34 AM

“Bunny!” Satoru calls from the bathroom, his voice reverberating loudly through the hall. “Baby, come over here!”

Standing in your apron with your hands moving to fetch your chopped onions from your kitchen aisle, you try your best to focus on your cooking while answering him at the same time. “For the last time, Satoru, I’m not interested in taking a shower together with you!” You sprinkle some pepper into the dish, wiping your sweat away from your temple with the back of your hand. You take a glance at the digital clock nearby. “Not when we have to leave in an hour!”

“But I’ll let you shape my hair!”

“Not interested!”

“I’ll even let you give me a mohawk!”

“Not intere—oh shit—” It’s a given, really, that you’d accidentally pour too much salt into your cream soup from all this diversion. Taking a deep breath, you start to glare at your ceiling as you chant don’t get angry, don’t get angry inside your head. This is the reason why you try to keep him off the kitchen floor as far away as possible whenever you’re making food but even when he’s meters away from you, he still manages to annoy you somehow. 

“Babe, I couldn’t hear you. Was that a yes?”

“NO!”

***

07.41 AM

“Oooh~ Something smells good~” Satoru chirps, popping back into the living room with a toothy grin and a white towel wrapped around his hips. It’s hanging low on his body, showcasing very distracting V-lines that you (secretly) adore. You look away. No good can come from staring at your husband’s lean, perfectly shaped stomach at this time of the day. 

But then you catch a glimpse of the scratch marks you left on his back from last night, your face aflame since you can barely remember how hard you dug your nails into his skin. Satoru always likes it when you’re not careful with him—just like how you love it when he’s rough with you—but were you really that… desperate to keep him close, clutching onto him like that?

You shake your thoughts away. “Dry your hair properly,” you mutter, keeping your eyes on the plates you’re currently setting on the dining table. “I just mopped the floor.”

“Okay, Mom.” Dabbing a smaller towel against his hair, Satoru walks closer to your spot and pulls back a chair.

You eye him cautiously. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a seat, what do you think I’m doing?”

“You’re not gonna wear your clothes first?”

“Do I have to?” He takes a sip of your half-finished coffee, smacking his lips before he throws a naughty grin. “I mean, I fucked you right here last night. Surely you won’t mind eating breakfast with me only in my towel?” Before you can say a word—and you have lots to say—Satoru adds, “I’m just giving you a chance to ogle at my body as much as you want as you enjoy your food. I know you’re too embarrassed to ask, so you’re welcome. And if you’re willing to take a day off, I can be your dessert too.” 

You make a face. “Gross.” 

“And yet, you don’t deny the fact that you’re planning to stare.” Peering into your eyes, he places his chin on his hand, resting his elbow on the table. The haughty look he displays on his face is supposed to irritate you, but what it does is make your heart pound harder. “You’ve seen and touched these babies for years, and you still can’t get enough? Babe, come on.”

“You seriously calling your abs your babies?”

“Yep.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “But if you play nice, I’ll let you call them—”

“Just eat your breakfast.”

***

07.46 AM

“Babe?”

“What?”

“I have something to say but promise me you won’t kill me after I said it.”

“Okay…” You look up from your plate, feeling a bit concerned. “What is it?”

Satoru has never looked this serious in his entire life (because face it, Satoru and the word serious don’t really belong together now, do they?). 

Taking hold of your hand, he gently squeezes it, providing the comfort that you might need.

“This soup is salty as hell.”

***

07.58 AM

With the taste of salt still lingering thickly on his tongue (and a bump on his head, a masterpiece done by your fist), Satoru steps inside the bedroom with a yawn, his fingers scratching his undercut. He unwraps the towel from his waist, tossing it onto the sheets without care.

Your husband smiles the second he notices the way you’ve prepared his clothes so neatly on the desk, all the way from his tie, his belt even down to his socks. His dress pants are ironed to a crisp seam, and his phone is fully charged (after being married to him for three years, you’ve learned all of his little habits). You’ve selected a matching dark tie to go with his suit, one that he recalled was given to him as a gift during last year’s anniversary. He loves it. He loves how you always buy the things he needs instead of what he wants, even when he, himself, didn’t realize how essential they were. But what makes him the happiest is when he sees the way it makes you smile so warmly every time he wears it, like a painter landing a final stroke on her masterpiece. For someone who doesn’t speak romantic words so often, your little gesture never fails to portray what’s on your mind. You love him and it shows. 

“I’m being spoiled, huh?” Satoru mumbles to himself, nothing but elation in his chest. He spots the little notes you left him on the same table, your handwriting scribbled on a piece of paper. “Ooooh~ A love note?”

Dear husband, If you leave your wet towel on the bed again  I’ll kill you.

“Not a love note.” Wincing, he immediately retrieves the towel from the bed, his mind playing a traumatic flashback of you scolding him about it for two hours straight (because suddenly it wasn’t just about the wet towel, was it? The forgotten toilet seat. The countless jackets hanging on the coat rack because he kept grabbing a new one. The pile of hentai doujinshi piling up on the coffee table. All of them.)

With the thought of skipping today’s work lingering in his head, Satoru forces himself to dress. As he turns around to face the mirror, he captures a brief look at the kiss marks blooming on his neck, ones that you painted on him last night. They’re faint because, unlike someone in this condo, you make sure to always be considerate of his appearance (though Satoru wishes you weren’t), but even the lightest shade of red seems vibrant on his fair skin. 

Although he acts nonchalant most of the time, your husband is quite the possessive type, so it’s a given that he likes the idea of having his marks on you. He gets a kick out of watching you struggle to hide the love bites he left on your neck, even more so when someone notices it. But, of course, nothing beats the feeling of having your marks on him. If you allowed him to, he would’ve worn every bite and bruise like a medal. Proudly. Contentedly. The same way he exhibited every present you’ve given him. Satoru just loves the idea of having a wife—of having you as his wife—and he would showcase that to the world in every second of his life if he could. 

He traces the bruises with his fingertips, drowning himself in the thoughts of you gasping against his ear, your teeth grinding against his neck as he pushed your knees further against your stomach with every thrust of his hips. He wasn’t lying when he said you looked absolutely gorgeous during sex. The way you parted your lips. The way your eyebrows stitched together in pleasure. The little noises you made when you breathed out his name as you bounced on his lap—

Satoru looks down. There it is again, the ache between his legs. Funny how you’re already so distracting even without doing anything—or being in the same room for that matter. Sighing, he grouses, “Guess she’s right. No signs of erectile dysfunction.” Willing his indecent thoughts to go away, he tucks his hands into the sleeves, buttoning up his shirt before he circles his tie around his neck.

“Satoru!” He hears your voice resonating from the bathroom. “Toru, can you come here for a sec? I need your help!”

“Oh, now she’s calling me to have sex with her.” He rolls his eyes. “After I finish taking a shower. So much for playing hard to get,” he scoffs. It’s ironic that he says this because right now he’s the one who’sacting that way. With giddy hands, he unfastens his tie, rushing to take off his pants again and almost tripping on his way out. He dashes toward the bathroom, opening the door while he strives to keep his excitement in check.

“WHOA!” You yelp in surprise, your body nude and drenched, hiding behind the door with only your head peeking out. “Why are you naked?!”

He frowns, confused. “Cause we’re about to have sex?”

Now you’re confused. “Uhh, no?”

“Why did you call me then?”

“I forgot my towel.”

“You’re asking me to get you your towel?” He sounds so appalled as if that thought never occurred to him when it’s supposed to be the first thing that should pop out in his head. Before you can respond, however, his mind, delusional as always, answers the question for him. “Oh, I see,” he smirks. “You’re using codes.”

“What?”

“‘I forgot my towel’—isn’t that, like, our code for ‘let’s have sex in the shower?’”

“Satoru.” You hold yourself back from ripping the silver strands out of his head. He’s testing your patience. Again. “We don't have any secret code.”

“We don’t?”

“Nope.”

“Oh…” It almost feels a bit cartoonish the way his shoulders sag upon hearing your words. There he is, a 29-year-old male standing in front of you in all his naked glory, saddened to his core over the fact of not having a cipher for sex. Well, for three seconds anyway. “So… You wanna make this our secret code, effective immediately, or—”

“Get the damn towel.”

With a stomp, Satoru leaves the bathroom only to return with your towel in one hand and his eyes squinting in a glare. Being the brat that he is, instead of handing it directly to you, he lets the thick cloth fall to the floor just a few inches away from where you’re standing. 

“Oh, you’re so annoying.”

“Isn’t that your secret code for saying you love me?”

You throw a jab to his stomach.

***

08.24 AM

Pushing your hair out of your coat, you call out your husband’s name. You examine your appearance one more time in the mirror, tidying your strands until they frame your face perfectly. The condo is fairly clean. Your stomach is full though you can’t seem to wash away the saltiness of your soup just yet. You’re only seven minutes late from your original plan, which isn’t bad. You’re all set. 

“Toru, you’re ready to go?”

Your husband is still yawning when he meets you in the foyer, carrying his handbag with his shoulders sagging forward. He’s dressed sharply in a white button-up shirt, combined with a black suit that accentuates the broadness of his shoulders. He looks handsome. He always does.

“Well, well, well, hello, Mr. CMO,” you snicker, pulling him by the tie while seductively batting your eyelashes at him. “Do you have time to spare? I would like to have a private meeting with you.”

He’s so tired, he doesn’t have the strength to keep up with your flirting, which says something since it’s usually the other way around. He spreads his arms wide open, his pout turning more prominent by the second. “Come here.”

“What?”

“I need my twenty-second hug.”

So, apparently, Satoru believes in this theory he found recently on the internet that said when you hug someone for, at least, twenty seconds, your body begins secreting the hormone oxytocin which is known to boost the immune system and reduce stress. He said that but you know that he’s just doing it so he can squeeze your ass, and that’s a fact, not a theory.

“Fine, but don’t grope my ass.”

“As long as you don’t grope mine.”

“I literally never did that.” You bury your face in his chest, tangling your arm around his waist. Satoru’s warmth is really one of a kind, or maybe he’s just as warm as a normal human being and you’re just too intoxicated by his scent that you stop making sense. No matter what the reason is, it’s comforting to be in his arms and if he doesn’t make a big deal out of it every time (acting like you’re the one who desperately wants to embrace him), you’d probably spend hours of your day just hugging him like this.

He buries his nose in your strands. “Your hair smells different.”

“I used your shampoo.”

“Yeah? That’s hot.”

You close your eyes, basking in his warmth and enjoying the smell of his perfume. He’s wearing a different brand today, just for a change, and although it’s not as sweet as his other one, this somehow feels much more comforting. Soft and fresh, reminding you less of summer and more of spring this time. “You smell different.”

“I used your perfume. And your bra.”

You’re not sure if you’re laughing over his terrible joke or his deadpan delivery, maybe a bit of both. Nuzzling your face against his chest, you titter, “Yeah? That’s hot.” 

And he’s not sure if he’s smiling over your reply or the way you just sounded so cute giggling like that—no, definitely both. He tightens his arms around your shoulders, squeezing your body against him until you start pounding your fist against his chest, begging for a time-out before he steals all the air in your lungs. “I think we should just skip work today,” he mutters as he releases you. “We can watch a wildlife documentary and count on how many times Benedict Cumberbatch mispronounced the word “Penguin” as ‘Pengwings.’”

“That sounds productive. If you want Maki to kill you.”

He shudders in fear, pulling you back to him. “Just for that, I’m gonna need another twenty.”

Though you feel the urge the roll your eyes, you let him tug you back into his arms and rest his chin on your head. After all, he’s your personal teddy bear. You can spend your eternity just sinking into his embrace like this.

“Satoru?”

“Hmm?”

“Your hands are on my ass.”

“Yeah, but I’m not groping them.”

“You are now.”

“Well now that you mentioned it, I just have to, don’t I?”

You break away, giving a playful slap on the chest. “Enough, we’re running late.”

“Where do you find the energy to go to work every morning?” He asks with weariness in his eyes. “I am this close to throwing myself back to the bed.”

Funny how literally an hour ago, he promised you that he’d work harder to make you feel even prouder of him. “Well, I guess, it all started when I turned into a fully grown woman.” You smiled at him, fixing his tie before you dealt with his collar. He might be the youngest person to enter C-level in his company, but he still dresses as clumsily as a five-year-old if it wasn’t for you to keep his appearance in check all the time.

“I’m a fully grown man too and I still wish I could lay around all day,” he sulks.

“You’re a man-child.” Tugging on his tie, you pull him down until your lips meet his in a chaste kiss. “But I love you. Body, mind, and soul.” You beam at him with your widest grin. “How’s that for your energy booster, Gojo-san?”

To your surprise, Satoru answers you by tossing his handbag to the side and dipping his head down once more to re-attach your lips together. He kisses you with the same fervor he had last night, tongue sneaking inside to taste the minty scent of your toothpaste. You gasp against his mouth, fingers fisting the fabric of his suit as you struggle to maintain your balance. Can’t help but take a couple of steps back from how hard he’s kissing you, you stop only when your spine meets the wall. “Satoru—” You attempt to push him away by placing your hand on his chest but he clamps his fingers around your wrist, bringing it over your head.

With his body pressed against yours, you wonder if he can feel your palpitating heartbeat beating against his own. There’s no stopping him when he gets this aggressive with his kiss and it’s not like you can find any willpower within you to stop him. Fortunately for you, he breaks away, wetting his bottom lip once as his eyes still glaze over your bruised ones.

“Spirits lifted,” he smiles against your lips, sending blood to pool in your cheeks. “Thanks, babe.”

When he lets you go, you find it almost impossible to stay composed. Three years… Three damn years you’ve been married to him and he still knows how to make your knees buckle with a single kiss.

“Babe?”

You push yourself away from the wall, your fingers tangled in your hair when you try to fix it. “W-what?”

Putting on his sunglasses, he casts a smirk, “You might want to fix your lipstick.”

“Oh, I hate you.”

He pecks your cheek. “I love you too, baby girl.”

***

08.32 AM

Despite you being the better driver—better as in I’m not gonna try and bribe an officer with a brand new iPhone whenever I get pulled over or threaten him with my family name when things don’t work out my way—Satoru always insists on having his hands on the steering wheel every time you’re with him. “A gentleman wouldn’t let his lady drive, especially when she looks this pretty in that skirt,” he always says, and yes, maybe this is his gentleman sidetalking—even when the said gentleman had put on the same skirt and caressed his own butt in front of the mirror a few days back. But honestly? You know this is just a part of his master plan to control the music playlist for the next ten to fifteen minutes.

“We’re not listening to Hatsune Miku again,” you say, putting on your seatbelt. 

“Oh, we totally are,” Satoru cackles, his fingers sliding up and down the touchscreen. He has seventeen different playlists consisting of more than a hundred songs in total, all taken from his favorite albums. Which is not much, really, considering Hatsune Miku is featured in around two thousand songs by now (a fact that you, honest to God, don’t care but he keeps reminding you of).

“Satoru, if you play one more Hatsune Miku song, I swear I won't put out tonight.”

“Well, if I have to listen to cookbook again—”

“Jungkook.”

“If I have to listen to cookbook one more time then I won’t put out tonight.”

“That's fine with me,” you shrug.

“Fuck,” he clicks his tongue, desperately jumping to the next option. “Okay, uhh… Oh, I know! You’re not getting my credit card ever again.”

You have one finger hovering above the screen. “So which Hatsune album are we listening to today?”

He sends you a dead stare. “Do you only love me for my money?”

“Oh, honey…” You rest your palm gently on his face, cupping and stroking his cheek. “Of course, I do.” You give him a tap that goes a little too hard than you intended but then again, he kind of deserves it. “Now, drive.” 

Satoru doesn’t even have the energy to come up with a retort. Exhaling in defeat, he kicks in the gear while you, with your face crumpled in repulsion, try to pick the least insufferable Hatsune Miku song. Unfortunately for you, Satoru catches a title that steals his attention.

“OOOH go back, go back! I want to listen to that one!”

You sigh, selecting his song choice. “It’s too early to listen to—” Beaming with joy and oblivious to the hatred you have for that one song, Satoru sweeps in and cranks up the volume until you feel your ears ringing from the inside. 

“Oh my God—” You flinch. If his loud nagging didn’t bust your eardrum, this definitely will. “Does it have to be this loud?!”

“Of course, my goddess is singing!” He shouts, grinning from ear to ear. He starts singing along, just as loudly, if not more. At this point, you swear there are people jogging on the sidetracks looking at your car with their faces contorting into frowns. 

 “I’m the number one princess in the world, so that's how you'll treat me,” he sings, slamming his hands against the wheel, head bobbing to the beat. “Oh my God, this is the soundtrack of my life!”

Still scowling, you have no choice but to listen further to the lyrics.

It's not like I'm acting selfish, I'm not asking for much  I just want you to think from the bottom of your heart that I'm adorable I'm the number one princess in the world  Notice me! Hey! Heeey!  Keeping me waiting is out of the question  Just who do you think I am?  Whatever, I think I could go for some dessert!  Yes, right now!

You grimace. “It really is.”

***

10.54 AM 

11.45 AM 

01.10 PM 

01.29 PM

02.05 PM 

02.29 PM 

03.22 PM 

04.02 PM

05.28 PM

06.11 PM

07.06 PM 

***

AN: Thank you so much for reading! I'm so sorry for the amount of cringe that you had to suffer through while you were reading this 😭

[fatalrosecreations]

🎃 The Pumpkin Babes Collab 🎃 by @fatalrosecreations x Dissia

Public Access: Immediately Ever wanted to get spooky with your bestie and take some hotttt halloween photos? In collaboration with the wonderful @Dissia, we bring to you this smexcii collection!

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Besties Mini Pose Pack: 6 standing Poses [3 Pose sets] Using Dissia's pose hammer.

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[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 9: ~

When the Walls Crumbled:

This is it. The long awaited Murine/Muirinnes chapter.

Fun fact: This is my first ever romance piece I've done for any fan-fiction. So, I have no idea if this is good or not.

Another fact: I had already completed this chapter before chapters 7 and 8. This was going to be chapter 7, but I had to map out a timeline when I decided this was going to be a mini-arc, and not a time-jump to post-rescue. Plus, during that time, I decided not to have military involvement. What I have instead you'll soon see.

Tw: Parental abuse and gambling.

Part 10:

Innes couldn't sleep. He found himself staring at the container ceiling. Drool ran down the chin, which only momentarily snapped him out of his daydream. Then right back to it. He tried, but no amount of tossing or turning was helping. Even when he was leaned against Muir, he found no comfort. A quick check from his watch showed it was 2:15am.

'Maybe some fresh air will help?' He asked himself.

With a quick glance at Muir, seeing him sleeping peacefully, Innes carefully moved from his side and made it for the door. He'll go outside, sit at the railing, and have a smoke to himself. Or he would do that if a tendril didn't wrap around his waist. Of course, Muir was secretly awake the entire time. Sneaky little shit. Innes accepted defeat with a deflated sigh and turned to see Muir lift him up and place him in front of his face.

'I thought you were asleep.'

Muir ignored the empty statement.

'Innes, what's wrong?' Because he could sense something. His heartbeat wasn't normal, and he felt it sink at the question. Then there were his eyes. For hours, Innes has had a hurt look in them. Even when he cheered for Brodie and Finlay, and when gorged on the leftovers, the look was still there. Plus, even if they've been practically inseparable, Innes couldn't bring himself to look Muir in his. Even now, Innes was clearly looking through him. 'It's okay. You know it'll be okay.'

Words filled and drowned Innes' mind.

'Stupid boy. You deserve this. How can you look at yourself? Stop being a fucking idiot!'

The words Innes would hear from his father and he'd repeat them as self-punishment.

'Don't cry. You're not a man if you cry!'

He wanted to, but a part of him was always afraid to. He feared his father would find out, even over a hundred miles away and being 6 feet under. That man left a mark that was hard to scrub off. No luck. Even Innes had a breaking point. Tears began to fall, and Muir began to wipe them away.

'Why aren't you mad at me?' A lump formed in his throat, and his heart began to race. 'I left you alone. I just ran whilst you turned into,' he gestured to Muir's exposed ribs. 'This. I'm your supervisor. I'm supposed to look out for you. You said that yourself!' He paused to catch his breath, but to no avail. 'I'm so sorry, Muir.'

The guilt had been eating away at him. Since he heard Muir calling out for him in distress. Even if no one could blame him, Innes' heart felt heavy, and he wanted to be sick. In his mind, because of him, Muir will never be human again. His body blew open and turned inside out with ribs exposed and flesh crawling along the hard-hat, which was possibly the reason it didn't spread further. He lost his hair, his mouth was stretched on one side, and most of his lips had melted away, half-blind despite having multiple eyes, and his innards hung inches from the floor. It was all his fault. Muir's cry for help will be something he can never forgive or forget.

'Innes, where ya going?!'

'INNNNNEEEEEEEES!'

'Innes? Help me, Innes!'

'Innes? Where's Innes? I just need help, eh?'

How was Muir able to break down the walls he tried so hard to build? What was this man to him? Innes never cried, and yet in one day, he cried over him twice. Not even his ex-wife got him to cry when she left him for someone else. He didn't cry when his house got repossessed through his gambling. And he certainly didn't cry when he heard his dad had passed. A tendril kept wiping his tears away. Muir pulled him closer, and Innes hugged what he could of his face. He didn't want to let go.

The last 3 years raced through his mind. Innes remembered the day he was called up to Rennick's office. At first, he thought it was because he had rolled up his sleeves and pants because of the unbearable summer heat. He wasn't too happy to hear he'd be looking after a newcomer with no prior training, but he did get a bollocking for the uniform.

Muir stepped off the chopper without a single hair out of place or crease in his uniform. Like all new hires, he had brought too much baggage. A backpack and small suitcase. Innes knew more than half of that wasn't going to see the light of day for months. Always amusing to see. He lingered at the steps with crossed arms and a smirk. Rennick introduced himself with that fake yet convincing smile to the untrained eye. In all honesty, Innes thought Muir had brided his way to become a deckhand. How can someone just leave their family farm and instantly work on an oil rig? Still, he grinned and taught Muir everything he could, even if he kept his walls up.

He couldn't tell when they began to crumble, but whenever there was a crack, he would try to mend it. It was exhausting. A fight he had to surrender because as much as he denied it, feelings started to bloom. He hoped they would go overtime, but the opposite happened. Muir's looks, his smell, his laugh, and even his clumsy nature that has gotten the pair in more than enough trouble, just made Innes -

Oh. That's why. Because for the first time in years, Innes was genuinely happy.

'I love you.' He let out a shakey breath and sniffled as he pulled away. The muscles in his neck twitched as he smiled. The hurt look in his eyes was gone, and he could finally look at Muir. His heart continued to race and skip a beat. 'I wished I told you sooner.' He noticed Muir began to cry, but with a smile on the one side of his face. One of pure joy, as if all the problems in the world had washed away. Now, it was Innes' turn to wipe his tears. He'd noticed his right eye was completely open again, and his nose at some point had been put back into shape.

'I've been waiting three years for you to say that.' He stifled a laugh and lightly squeezed Innes' waist. 'I love you too, my big man.'

'I think that's you now.'

'Don't get smart with me.'

The pair shared a mix of laughter and cries. They pulled each other together for another long hug. Innes kissed Muir above his good eye, then at the bridge of his nose, where they placed their foreheads together. They dried each other's tears. Muir moved his head towards Innes to replicate a nuzzle on a part of his shoulder.

It might be the middle of winter, but they felt warm. It was inviting. It was new. It was something they didn't want to let go of, so they stayed like this. Frozen in time.

Roy opened the door. Neither had come for breakfast, so he thought it was best to check up on them. He found the pair huddled together. Tendrils wrapped around Innes like a blanket, except for his arms hugging them in return. Muir lightly snored, stretched, and gently pulled Innes closer.

He was no expert, but Roy could tell. He slowly closed the door and left the pair. What harm would another hour do?

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

The B-52's - Roseland, New York City, April 19, 1982

I was in NYC for a couple of days earlier this month and though time was limited, I did of course find a minute to visit a local record store — Academy Records on W. 18th St. Digging through the $5 bin, I found a nice copy of the B-52's' David Byrne-produced Mesopotamia mini-album, which I've always loved, but have never had on vinyl before. A no-brainer! As I checked out, I noticed that Mesopotamia had been recorded at Bob Blank's Blank Tape Studio, and some quick Google mapping revealed that I was just moments away from where that studio used to be on 37 W. 20th St. A legendary spot, as a footnote in Jesse Rifkin's great This Must Be The Place details:

"[T]he studio's discography includes Television's seminal punk single "Little Johnny Jewel"; disco hits by Musique, Class Action, Crown Heights Affair, and Inner Life; groundbreaking remixes by deejays like Larry Levan, Francois Kervorkian, and Tee Scott; and no-wave/mutant disco albums by the likes of James Chance, Lydia Lunch, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, and DNA. It was the favored studio of genre-bending auteur Arthur Russell, and classic albums by Talking Heads (Speaking In Tongues), the Gun Club (Miami), Joe Bataan (Mestizo), Ashford & Simpson (Solid), the B-52's (Mesopotamia), Miami Sound Machine (Eyes of Innocence) and Sun Ra (Lanquidity) were all tracked there."

All that and Madonna's first single, too! New York City is like this, of course — a neverending web of connections, a labyrinth of layers upon layers upon layers. You could spend your life walking down its streets, discovering the strange stories behind every building's facade. I could never hack it there full-time, but god bless the people who can!

Anyway — the B-52's! What a wonderful band. Here they are at Roseland (239 W. 52nd St.) right around the time that Mesopotamia came out. A killer SBD tape, featuring an expanded lineup: Dave Buck and Ralph Carney on horns. We get a bunch of the new mini-album, plus plenty of stuff from their already stuffed back catalogue. As with any B-52's tape, I'm sure it's not as good as being there in person, but it's still one heck of a party. Nip it in the bud!

(Oh and hey — this old Pitchfork column of mine has more live jams if you need to further celebrate the miracle of the B-52's.)

[ladybyakuya]

| INTO MY KALIEDISCOPES ( part three ) + SUGISHITA KYOTARO !

+cw. — fem!reader, fluff, comfort, domesticity,pinning.

+wc. — 1k 

+syn.—  Sugishita Kyotaro was always the first target for every impromptu plan that Umemiya made while you were Kotoha's. Naturally, when they both made plans you and Sugishita had to face each other again.

+notes. — this is for the flufftober ‘fond moments’ collab event for prompt: date night hosted by @spookuna. m\dni cuz me iz eighteen plus blog. this is part of a mini drabble series that can be read as stand alone. |  redirect to blog navigation. 

The shop that was suggested by both Haji-kun and Koto-chan is the same shop that popped up in Google Maps when you searched for “grocery stores near me.” but now that you are finally here you can tell why it was so hard to locate the shop, even for google. The town guide, Sugishita, who is accompanying you was not much of a help. Besides, talking with him is still a boat you had yet to set foot on let alone sail on it. Never in the worst nightmares you had expected to run into him, again, after that embarrassing date night. 

The shop is almost empty except for the staff at the cash counter who is practically dozing off. It is already quite late at night so you do not see a reason to blame him especially because Makochi is a forlorn town. No shop is ever too crowded to come back home empty-handed. Haji-kun wanted to have a barbeque night; naturally, Hiragi was busy helping him, more like cleaning the mess he left behind after he was done with something, as always. Kotoha, Sakura, Nirei, and Suo are helping with the setup while Kaji and Tsubaki have gone to invite others, especially the members of Shishitoren and the people at show pub Ougi bar. As a result of these patiently concocted coincidences You and Sugishita were the only two people left with nothing to do but one of the most important responsibilities: “grocery shopping.”

A heavy sigh escapes from your chest as you lay your eyes on the entire display of products while standing in front of the fridge. Vibrant in color compared to the other parts of this dull silent shop, it piqued your interest first even though it is the utmost corner. The ground shelf of the fridge, which extends from one end of the shop to the nook of the staircase which would possibly lead to the second floor, is filled with dairy products. The shelf above it is filled with frozen foods and various types of treats with different tastes like salty, spicy, sweets, and alcoholic; the last, the uppermost shelf is filled with a wide variety of chocolates. Your concern is the middle section but the level above it is the most tempting. You pick a bunch of packets from the frozen foods section and look by your right side. 

Oh god! Where did this boy run off to now? He was following you like a stray puppy just a while ago. With the shopping cart in between the two of you, it felt like he was light years apart every time you turned back to keep anything inside it. You look around unable to spot him, slowly sinking into a rabbit hole of distraught since without him you would be lost in Makochi. You would not be able to go back without him. Relying on the phone? That’s pretty useless here. The network is bad besides you do not have anyone’s number except Kotoha and even if you did make a call she would be busy in the preparations of barbeque mostly probably unable to take the call . . . Oh God! Why did Haji-kun have to send you in the middle of nowhere. . . ?

A metallic screech sucks you out of your puddle of thoughts. You look in the direction of the source and a nonchalant Sugishita appears emerging from another section of the rack that has a lot of mangas, magazines, and books, by standing on the bar of the shopping cart while hunching his upper body to balance his weight, skidding it till he comes to a halt in front of you. His head turns up towards you, eyes blinking: one, twice, thrice before he straightens himself up to stand properly. He stands looking at the fridge, the cart in between you two as you inspect him for a few seconds. He is not hunching like he usually does around Umme! The inner flesh of your bottom lip faces a rough distortion against your teeth while you empty your hands into the cart. It already had drinks, soda cans, and different types of sauces neatly kept. It felt illegal to dump those packets messily into that apple pie setup but when there was a slow appearance of a visible crease along his eyebrows the pit guilt was now filled with surprise and  . . . joy perhaps.

“Alright fine,” You chime with an ear-to-ear smile jocking down to keep those packets of frozen foods in a well-ordered manner. The dull buzz of the air conditioner, the sharp ‘clicks’ when the rotating fans switch its direction, the crinkle of plastic packets inside the cart as you organize it, the low even syncing breaths of you two; then a gruff unfiltered voice turns up in a weak whisper, “This almost feels like a date night, wouldn’t you agree? ” and then, his hand on yours.  Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. You knew this was coming. You were . . . supposed to be prepared for this. It was you who avoided him at first. It was you who created an awkward situation like this. The fact that you saw him under those dim yellow lights in such an intimate manner does not help either. Those moments so unadulterated keep coming back to you in situations like this in flashes. It makes you close your eyes, and blink rashly to be back in all sorts of coherence. 

You look up slowly. His face is close, too close not to do anything—kiss or touch— your forehead against his, rub your cheeks against his. By now your fingers have found a home in between his fingers. He shoves his right hand into his pocket pulling out a half-eaten chocolate out of it and keeping it inside the cart. You feel a strong urge to smile but instead, wet your bottom lip rubbing the back of his palm with your lonely thumb that was not interlaced with his yet.

“Would you like to start over?”

[sam24]

Minivans And Pawnshops

Summary: You were out on a mission for a week, and when Tony, your self-appointed overprotective bodyguard, notices your Greek god of a boyfriend acting weird, he makes it his personal duty to figure out why. By asking Steve what was going on? Hell no. By slipping a Stark Tracker on him and shoving 11 people into an 8-seater Honda Odyssey to follow him.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

*****

“Take a left.” Friday’s monotone voice rang out.

“Take a left here, Happy,” Tony instructed, looking up from the Stark Map on his phone.

Happy rolled his eyes, mumbling something along the lines of I know, the robot already told me.

“This isn’t necessary, Tony,” You repeated for about the hundredth time. “Steve is not cheating on me.”

“My evidence says otherwise,” Tony urged Happy to drive faster, earning a grumble from the latter. “He’s acting very suspicious, always going out and coming back late every time.”

“Actually, I can vouch for Tony on that one,” Clint adds from his squished place in the last row of the mini-van, practically sitting in an annoyed Natasha’s lap. “He’s been acting pretty weird.”

“Doesn’t automatically mean that he’s cheating,” You defended. “He probably has other reasons.”

“Fine. Cheating or fight club. Which would you prefer?” Tony cocked his head at you, and you shoved it back.

“If he is bedding another woman, I will make sure he cannot bed any woman ever again!” Thor declared loudly into your ear, Wanda also wincing on the other side of him.

“You mean cut his dick off?” Sam piped in from the back, who was purposefully shoving into Bucky with every turn the car made.

“Um, indeed. I think so,” Thor shrugged. “I am not sure what I meant either.”

“Uh Mister Stark?” Peter turns around from the passenger seat that he was sharing with a very uncomfortable Bruce. “Did you really have to bring all of us? I have a lot of math homework to finish.”

Tony waved him off. “I have like 30 assistants back at the tower, kid. Someone will do it for you. Plus, all of us have to catch Rogers in the act and publicly shame him.”

You turned back to Tony, remembering what you both were initially arguing about after the ringing in your ear settled down. “You didn’t have to sneak a damn tracking device on him! You could have just asked what he was doing like a normal person.”

“Fuck being normal. At least be grateful that I waited for you until you came back from your mission to catch him red handed.” Tony smirked. “Or should I say cum handed.”

Everyone gagged.

“Actually, I don’t think that’s how it works,” Vision frowned, basically underneath Wanda. “The semen technically would not be in the Captain’s hand, unless-”

“Vis, honey.” Wanda just shook her head.

“Plus, I already asked Cyborg over here.” Tony pointed to the back at Bucky, who was still glaring at Sam. “He went uhh, I don’t know and ran away,” Tony said in his best dumb jock voice.

“Nothing is going on, Tony.” Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Just turn the car around.”

“I agree with Barnes.” Natasha kicked Tony’s seat from the third row. “Turn around, Happy.”

Bucky looked past Sam and Clint, who were hitting each other’s knees with their own. “Steve told you too?” He asked in Russian with a raised eyebrow.

Natasha shook her head with a smirk. “No. I’m just smart like that.”

“Too late, buddy,” Tony ignored their secret conversation, flashing a fake smile over his shoulder. “Like the great John B once said, ‘We didn’t come this far to get this far’.”

Peter whipped around once again, his eyes lighting up at the quote. “Mister Stark, I’m really glad that you’re watching my TV show recommendations, but I’m pretty sure someone else said it before he did-”

“Happy, take another left here.” Tony called out, mimicking the AI who just said it seconds before.

You rolled your eyes, the red dot in the center of Brooklyn on the phone screen catching your attention. You had no reason to doubt Steve’s loyalty toward your relationship. He loved you and you loved him and you knew that he would never do anything to hurt you. But, you were curious as to why Steve was apparently acting weird while you were gone, and what the hell he was doing in Brooklyn.

“Trust me, Tone. He’s not cheating. I’ll just ask him when he comes back, it’s probably just some stuff he has to take care of.”

“C’mon guys,” Bucky pressed. “Let’s turn around. I need to pee or something.”

“Hm, sounds like you're in denial.” Tony said to you, ignoring Bucky once again. “Don’t worry, the next step will be coming soon. Anger,” Tony announced with a grin like it was some kind of flashy news headline.

“Tony, why the hell does it sound like you want my boyfriend to be cheating on me.”

“Aw come on, it’s not like that,” Tony gestured at Happy to take a right. “I’m just looking out for you.”

You rolled your eyes once again, rubbing your wrist, remembering the death grip Tony had on you earlier as he dragged you into the light blue Honda Odyssey packed tight of Avengers in the back of his garage. He was saving it for his future family, he had claimed when you asked why Tony Stark of all people owned a minivan.

“Stop!” Tony yelled, and Happy quickly stepped on the brake, sending everyone flying forward. You heard Bruce and Peter groaning in the front. “This is it. The big reveal,” he announced.

You immediately scooted ever closer to Tony as he pressed his forehead to the window.

“He’s having an affair with . . .” Tony paused with a frown, his sunglasses sliding down the slope of his nose. “The owner of Vintage Pawn Shop?”

Pawn shop? Didn't Steve say something about a pawn shop a while back?

Identical confused eyebrow furrows made their way onto everyone’s faces, except Bucky’s and Natasha’s, as you spotted your unmistakable 6 foot 2 super soldier through the glass littered with fingerprints.

He was describing something to the old lady working in the store, looking hopeful and tired, like he had been searching for it for days. She nodded and raised her finger in a one minute, honey type of way and started rummaging through some things behind the counter. She pulled out a small box from somewhere, opening it and gently placing it in front of Steve.

You squinted your eyes, accidentally shoving Tony’s head into the window of the car as you craned your neck closer, trying to read the woman’s lips.

She said something along the lines of This might be what you’re looking for, sweetie, and Steve’s eyes lit up, a clear wave of nostalgia crashing over him. With gentle calloused fingers, he lifted a ring out of the box, admiring it with a soft smile.

“Friday,” Tony called out, face still squished between you and the car window. “Connect to the store’s CCTV.”

Before you could ask since when the hell Friday could do that, the Stark Map with a You have arrived at your destination adorned on its screen quickly was replaced with the live footage from the store’s cameras.

“Did this belong to someone that you knew, honey?” The old woman’s kind voice grainily made its way through the speaker of Tony’s phone as she noticed Steve’s eyes glistening with tears.

Everyone tried to move closer to the phone for Steve’s reply in the overcrowded car. “Ow!” You heard Clint yell, probably at Sam. “That was my foot, dumbass!” He was immediately shushed.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, still smiling at the ring. “My ma’s.”

Multiple gasps were heard throughout the car, Happy’s being the loudest.

A weeks old, sleepy memory that was buried deep into your brain immediately flooded back.

You and Steve were wrapped around each other, your ear pressed to his heart, slowly lulling you to sleep with a familiar beat.

“Y’know, you remind me of my ma.” Steve randomly declared against your hair, and you peered up at him to meet the soft currents in his eyes. “Beautiful. Kind. Doesn’t take shit from anyone.”

He pressed a kiss to your lips as you smiled, cupping your face to pull back and look at you. He stared lovingly at you for a while, settling into a comfortable silence.

“Everything okay?” You turned your head to kiss his palm. The last time he had looked at you for this long without talking, it was right before he burst into tears after you had almost died on a mission.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Just thinking.” He pulled you back into his chest, placing another kiss on your forehead. “She would’ve loved you.”

After a little bit of silence, he spoke again. “Her ring was beautiful.”

“Oh?” You hummed.

“Yeah.” He nuzzled his nose into your cheek, a slight Brooklyn accent slipping through as he talked slowly, his words laced with sleep. “Don’t know where it is, but I wanna find it for you. I’ll look through every pawn shop in the state. And when I find it I’ll propose when the time’s right under the stars and you’ll say yes because you’re just like my ma, and Ma loved me more than anything in the world.”

If Steve had brought up the topic of marrying you during the day when you were wide-awake, you probably would have had a stroke of happiness.

But right now, it was night.

It was night and you were half-asleep, wrapped up in Steve’s warm arms, feeling more at peace there than you ever had anywhere else.

Nothing but peace.

So you just drowsily grinned into his bare chest, your hand snaking up to rest on his cheek. “She loved you more than anything in the world, huh?” You repeated. “Well then I guess your Ma and I are pretty similar.”

You looked up from the screen and back at the window, staring at the ring in Steve’s hand with wide eyes. The sunlight bounced off of it and the jewel sparkled in the light with an elegant touch. Steve was right- it was absolutely gorgeous.

A smile crept onto your face, matching the one on Steve’s.

“Why the hell are you smiling?” Tony’s voice interrupted your daze. “He’s gonna propose to the side chick!”

[rendy-a]

Hey, um hi! I'm new here, nice to meet you, sorry I'm a bit awkward with requests

So, Could we have some of the Self aware AU with Idia and Sebek? It can be whatever you want, a headcanon or a mini one shot, whichever you prefer more^^

Thank you ahead!

~~~🌟🎃

The interesting thing with Self Aware AU is that you can write it like the game characters are aware of you as you play or you can write where the player is isekai’d into the game and everyone knows about it.  Last time, I had written it in the perspective of playing the game irl.  I thought this time, I’d write it as though the player was somehow drawn into the game.  Hope you enjoy it. 

Remember, the Self-Aware AU is a yandere AU!

When you’d awoken inside your favorite phone game…well, you’d freaked out.  But then!  You’d made one rule; never mention the game to any character.  It was just strange.  Plus, you weren’t sure how they’d react!  It was a rule you’d managed to follow, until today.

You, like the character Yuu in your game, were a first-year student at NRC.  As much as you’d liked to have avoided all the game characters to prevent triggering any dangerous events, you shared class with Ace and Deuce (plus lived with Grim).  Over time, you’d been pulled into lunches and joint classes with all the first-year students.  Thankfully, the first-year students weren’t where the problem was.  That was with the Housewardens and you avoided them in every situation possible.  You were relieved that the plot of the game had you living in such a remote dorm and excused you from attending any sort of club activities. 

And yet, you sometimes wished you would meet the characters.  It would be so cool to talk to your favorites, see them in actual real life!  Only, you were also pretty sure the minute you came face-to-face, you’d say something embarrassing or stupid.  Like you did when you met Ace and Deuce.  You still cringe when you remember calling them the ‘single braincell duo’ to their faces.  Yes, it was probably for the best that you took isolated halls to class to avoid the seniors.  You wouldn’t want to turn the corner and ACK!

You rolled over from where you’d fallen and gazed up to see who or what you’d collided with.  You recoiled in horror as nebulous blue flames made patterns across your vision.  “What kind of ridiculous anime situation is this.  Real people should look at where they are going in the hall.  This place needs a mini-map to avoid NPC’s like this.  I can’t believe on the one day I have to attend class in person some extrovert is lurking in my quiet hallway…”  He hadn’t looked up from where he’d fallen but you could tell in an instant that you’d triggered some rare event and encountered a wild Idia.

You spend this small moment wondering if you should pretend to know him or not.  He’s a Housewarden, so you should probably know who he is, right?  But at the same time, he never leaves Ignihyde, so how would you know him?  Maybe you should pretend to not know him.  “It’s you,” a small voice interrupts your dilemma.  You look up at Idia in surprise only to find a matching expression of surprise on his face.  Then his mouth parts slightly and a string of words emerges.  “What should I do?  I didn’t prepare for this event.  I’m not ready to meet my Oshi in person.  How do I trigger the correct dialog option here?  I’m going to get a death flag; I just know it…”

He says a lot of things, but one thing catches your attention: Oshi.  Were you somehow Idia’s favorite?  That can’t be, right?  You let out a giggle at the absurdity of the situation.  Idia’s eyes grow large, and he shrinks back at the sound, started to hear it coming from your mouth.  “Don’t be so nervous Idia.  Nothing bad is going to happen,” you say softly.  When you speak to him, Idia loses control of himself and starts talking rapidly, “Of course!  If the Player says so, then it is so.  They are so amazing, like limited SSR class amazing.  I don’t deserve to even be in their presence.  They are probably thinking, who is this gloomy weirdo with the fire hair?  Why is he dressed so strange, he probably doesn’t have any fashion sense.” 

“That’s not true!” you shout, “I remember when your Ghost Marriage card came out!  Oh my gosh!  It looked so cool!  It was totally my favorite card.  I had to pull 200 times to get it!”  Then you abruptly stop, realizing you’ve said too much when Idia’s hair turns completely pink.  “I…I’m just going to go,” you say as you cover your face in embarrassment and walk back around the corner the way you had arrived.

The students of Ignihyde gave Idia a wide berth as he returned to the dorm.  No one dared approach him while his hair flickered so violently from gentle pink to blazing red.  Idia himself seemed entirely unaware of the bizarre show he was putting on.  He continued mumbling and giggling to himself all the way back to his room.  When he finally found the solitude of his inner sanctuary, he jumped on his bed and hugged his Player-print body pillow.  “Hee Hee Hee!” he laughs out loud for no one to hear but himself.  “I did it.  I meet my Oshi!”  Then he rolls over onto his back and stares dreamily into the ceiling, “They knew who I was.  That must mean something.  Maybe, this is fate?” 

There was only one rule all the inhabitants of Twisted Wonderland had; don’t interfere with the Player.  It was a rule he’d managed to follow, until today.  Today, Fate intervened.  If Fate wanted you two to be together, who was Idia to argue?  As he stared at the ceiling, Idia’s engineering brain went into gear planning designs for a place he could take you where no one else could reach.  A place where you’d finally be alone, with only him.  Just like Fate had planned.

Over time, you’d noticed that the residents of Twisted Wonderland treated you differently.  You remembered the first time you heard Crowley tell the aggravated student body he’d assigned weekend cleaning duty to all students to clean up the campus for their use…because he was so kind.  While all around you, students started grumbling, you’d burst out laughing.  When everyone had started looking at you, you’d choked off your laugh and covered your face.  “Sorry, he just…he said the thing,” you managed to get out between smothered chuckles. 

No one ever called you out on your strange behavior.  It was like they all collectively got together and decided that you were allowed to behave in any way you chose.  They, on the other hand, often seemed to struggle with deciding if they should act normally in your presence or not.  The number of times you’d slipped into a room of rowdy students to have the conversation cut off into a silent awe was alarming.  Today was just another example.

You’d gotten back after a class and lay in your bed, bored.  You’d think that being pulled into your favorite game would give you endless entertainment but, after a time, it just settled into being exactly like school in your world.  The only difference is you occasionally went out looking for locations or characters in the game, like a sort of anime pilgrimage.  Sometimes, you’d been caught in awkward situations, but you’d just sort of nod and say, “This all looks fine,” and leave.  No one has ever called you out on your intrusions.  So…you just felt free to invite yourself anywhere you were curious to go.  Today, you thought about things you were interested in and decided that you’d go to some of the clubs to find out what the club uniforms looked like.  After all, not all those cards were released; it’s like the ultimate preview!

You were almost used to the way things fell silent when you entered the stable yard.  Members of the Horseback Riding Club stopped what they were doing to stare at you.  Those who faced away noticed the attention of their fellows and turned to see you before they too, fell silent.  In almost no time at all, they had casually circled you, as though waiting for you to hand out some sort of instruction or give a speech.  You rubbed your head and thought, guess it’s time to break out the old ‘nothing to see here’ and bounce.  Before you could though, a call broke the silence.  “HUMAN!”

You turned toward the sound, an eager expression coming over you.  Were you about to experience the famous rants of Sebek?  As you hoped, Sebek was loudly berating students at the outer edges of the semi-circle for their inattention during club activities.  You eased yourself forward, hoping to catch sight of him.  No one tried to bar your way, parting before you as you progressed.  You easily reached his side and leaned forward to watch his antics.  Suddenly, he turns and grabs onto YOU!  “HUMAN, YOU AREN’T EVEN DRESSED YET!  THIS SORT OF SLOVENLY BEHAVIOR…” and then he trails off as he looks at your face and you can see the awareness fall over him.

His eyes go wide, and he immediately let’s go of your shoulder, visibly taken aback.  He stammers and you imagine you even see tears gathering in his eyes.  You think to yourself, time to find a way out of this before things get even worse.  “I…I’m here for an inspection…” you say carefully.  All the gathered students listen intently, standing just a touch straighter.  “Sebek, I have decided…I have decided to see how many push-ups you can do in a minute.”  It made no sense, and you knew it made no sense.  You wondered if this would finally be the time someone calls you on your BS but instead, Sebek perks up to an extreme degree.  “YES, OF COURSE!  RIGHT AWAY!” he bellows. 

You stand at his side as he begins, pretending to care far more than you do about the results of this demonstration.  Honestly, it is impressive.  The speed at which he sets out to complete the exercises is extreme.  You wonder for a moment just what sort of training Lilia DOES give to Sebek and Silver to get them to this level of fitness.  When he is finished with the allotted minute, he jumps to attention, standing much as you’d imagine he does on guard over Malleus.  You give it a moment and then say, “Yes, that will suffice.  You may all return to your duties now.”  Having ordered the students to depart, they comply with a surprising speed.  They all still watch you but now they do it while pretending to be engaged in filling buckets with water or looking over curry combs. 

You give one final nod to Sebek and say, “Good job,” before you walk away.  That was more than enough excitement for one night.  You’d rather spend the rest of the evening in Ramshackle than deal with any more things like this tonight.  Behind you, Sebek watches you go in awe.  You praised him; you told him he did a good job.  Before you quite got out of earshot, you heard one last shout, “SILVER WAKE UP!  THEY PRAISED ME, THE PLAYER PRAISED ME!”  You laughed to yourself, what a strange world this was.

That evening in Diasomnia, Sebek carefully pulled his portrait of Malleus off the wall.  Nestled behind it was a photograph of the Player.  He gazed at it reverently.  They’d spoken to him today; praised him even.  He wasn’t yet over it.  He thinks we will never get over it.  He places your photo next to his pillow as he lays down to sleep.  In the morning, he’ll put it back behind the portrait.  He’d not dare to change his room’s layout from what the Player knows!  But for tonight, he’d fall asleep to your face and the remembrance of your voice.  Someday…maybe he’d not even need to use a photograph.  ‘NO!’ he tells himself sternly, ‘the Player is not for you!’  And yet, some dark corner of his mind tells him that ‘good job’ is just a small step away from ‘I love you.’

[jame7t]

question from someone who checked out from infinite a while ago; has 343 even added anything beyond cosmetics and forge assets in the past year? feels like anytime I see a new update it's just forge maps they're putting in the queue

as far as i know there's been like, little to nothing. Some "new" gamemodes but it's still just adding stuff from previous games. 3 years into its life cycle. The game is ostensibly on life support aside from the frequently (and loudly) updated cash shop. Like, when a game wants to be a live service, it should justify a cash shop via actual content drops. Helldivers 2 releases monthly mini battlepasses & still manages numerous free content drops each month. Plus, it's prices are not absolutely divorced from reality. Sure, Helldivers is also 40 dollars, but it was a complete game on release and Helldivers' cash shop respects the fact that i've paid 40 bucks already.

Like, here's a wonderful selection from Halo Infinite's cash shop during the flood event:

These are 20-22 dollar armor sets. Also, Halo Infinite is "Free to play" but the campaign alone is still 60 bucks. "Okay, so the campaign being separate from multiplayer means those 60 bucks means a much larger campaign, right? No, because of course it doesn't. Halo infinite's campaign is technically larger in the sense that it has wider areas, but with less enemy variety, a complete lack of dynamic set pieces, literally three types of environment, & kind of a shit sandbox compared to previous games, it feels MUCH smaller. So, I paid 60 bucks for Halo, and because Halo says anyone can play for free now, all the people who bought campaign are now also stuck with the free to play prices, which is terrible. Also, to reiterate: Why are there 20 dollar armor sets in a game. why do you get to pay 22 dollars to havbe the flood shit on you. these items are priced like the game gets actual updates. Halo infinite has not received a (fun) new weapon since launch. (They added the bandit, which is a scope-less DMR from previous halo games, then added the bandit EVO, which is a variant so boring that i refused to google the difference at the time of writing this.) Anyway, Helldivers 2 cash shop costs like 2-3 bucks for armor sets, some show up cheaper. And the currency you buy them with? Incredibly easy to earn.

sorry for doing my gaming rant. if you want we can call it an infodump & we can pretend i said all this on the lap of a cooing milf who is voluptious &cares deeply about how mad i am at video games