#pov inanimate object

[boriskasosiska]

Why concentration is so hard

[messydoodlesyt]

RTV Tour Part 2 {Messy’s POV}

With her new Bob plush in hand Messy was more excited than ever for the rest of the tour.

“ALRIGHT, THE VOTES ARE IN! WE ARE GOING TO THE FILM DEPARTMENT!”

Messy followed alongside the group as the entered the hallway. Chris and Swag were closely behind keeping an eye on the guests while Lucian was talking to the man himself. She couldn’t quite hear what they were saying saying, but it didn’t look pleasant. It was a vibe Messy was slowly picking up with the staff. So much tension you could cut it with a knife. ‘Just ignore it, it’s not any of your business’ Messy thought as she kept walking, occasionally glancing back at the bob plush with glee.

“The Film Department makes the CORE of the Headquarters, after all Puzzlevison’s main thing is to create MOVIES and SHOWS for everyone!” RTV announced as the group followed along. “I could of course show you all the different studios we have, but I think you may be interested in a PARTICULAR part of said department.”

With that he motioned Swag to continue to lead them as he stepped off to the side. ‘Most likely some important higher up stuff to worry about,’ Messy thought. Just gotta not be nosy. Which frankly is more than she can say for the group. The majority of the group was either attempting to sneak off, pestering the crew members, or just outright looking for trouble. She couldn’t tell who was more suspicious here: The Staff or The Tour Group. That being said some of the group members were huddled in their little groups. Most likely knew each other from before the tour or possibly introduced each other from the start of it.

“I guess I could introduce myself to some folks…” Messy started to say. She looked back at the Bob Plush. “What do you think Mini Bob should I attempt to socialize?”

“Hell yes” Messy spoke in a ventriloquist manner doing her best Bob impression. “Look at you standing you here by yourself like a loser.”

“Well dang mini Bob no need to be a jerk about it…” she looked around before looking back. “I guess I could-“

“Hello, bonjour, assalamu alaikum, hallo!” Messy jerked her head up as she focused back on what was happening now. Someone had popped into the group with RTV close in sight. Having a tv for a head as well, this person seemed way more energetic. Definitely seemed familiar however, she just couldn’t place the-

“The name’s Animsay!” Ah that answered the name question. “Some of you may know me from a certain site, wink wink, others maybe not. I’m the head of the Social Media Department but we will probably get to that later! Probably.”

RTV seemed annoyed by Animsay, but continued to push onwards with the tour.

“MOVING ON- if you would start following me again.”

“Cmon mini Bob, we can chat later.” Messy walked. “As if I can leave, I’m stuck with you holding me.”

Inside a purple themed castle stood before them. The first thought was SMG3 since that was the signature color.

“Oh, by the way, the many doors we are passing? All offices, mainly of the Administration Department. Pretty neat, right? The offices of the heads, such as myself, each have their own office in the building block their department belongs to. Well, with exception for 3 he prefers to keep in the castle. Mine and Colores are in B!”, she happily began rambling.

That was pretty neat.

“Well, anyway I probably shouldn’t hang around too much or the boss gets weird, bye bye!”

Messy watched Animsay scurry off speaking to other tour members as Messy raised her eyebrow and looked at mini Bob. “The heck was that supposed to mean?”

“Why are you asking me, I’m literally a stuff toy.”

Fair enough. She looked to make sure no one was noticing her having a conversation with- let’s face it herself- and followed the rest.

“I’m sure you’ve GUESSED by now where we are heading.”, RTV now spoke again, now opening a set of doors that led to the inner courtyard. “The SMG4, now SMG3 castle has gotten a bit of a rework to fit more to its NEW crew.”

Right… one without SMG4 or Mario.

“This area is often used by employees during BREAKS by the way. It can be accessed from ALL building blocks. Building Block C contains the studios of the Film Department. If you WISH we could take a look at them later, but I think you may be much more interested in the crew’s residence.”

They had entered the castle which had a new feel to it. The interior structure remained the same, but anything related to SMG4 disappeared entirely with it being replaced with shades of purple and the PuzzleVision Logo. It did look cool, but she couldn’t help but think back to how the castle used to look like. Okay blue was not her favorite color, but it seemed more… right? Can she even say that?

“WELCOME TO THE SMG3 CASTLE!”, RTV announced. Messy noticed Aminsay attempt to leave but the doors were shut in front of them. Okay, getting back to weird territory…. ‘Just focus on the tour, it’s none of your business. She looked forward as the Smg4- er… SMG3 crew now only consisting of Meggy, Tari, Boopkins, and of course SMG3. Instantly she could tell SMG3 was exhausted. Suppose it makes sense, he’s more head on now and while Messy doesn’t fully understand show business, it most certainly couldn’t be easy.

SMG3 started to introduce himself with as much energy as he could possibly muster up before Meggy soon took over. Messy listened to everything she was saying as she still took a couple of glances back at SMG3. At one point she caught him rubbing his eyes. Yup. Definitely exhausted. Hopefully he could take a break soon and relax, being overworked can do a number on you.

“So yeah, if you have any questions, don’t be afraid to ask them! Other than that feel free to explore the castle! I know a lot of fans always want to see it, so go ahead.” Meggy stated. Immediately Messy’s first thought was to go upstairs. She only really knew of SMG4’s old room being up there but a lot of rooms never introduced.

“You can go anywhere except for the room upstairs.”, SMG3 now butted in, stuffing hands into the pockets of his overalls. “It's, uh, not cleaned up.”

Well scratch that plan.

“Yeah, aside from that you can access the kitchen where we have a few snacks and drinks standing, the storage where honestly ain't much except a bunch of equipment and whatever we stuffed in there, the gaming room if you want to play a few games with Tari, the guest room if you just want to relax for a second I guess and lastly the bathroom if, ya know.”

Food and video games, deeeefinetly food and video games, ESPECIALLY since it would be playing with Tari.

Boopkins then suggested anime which RTV seemed to begrudgingly agree for it to be held in the guest room.

“Oooh let’s go watch some Anime!” Messy- er- ‘mini Bob’ expressed as Messy waved him up and down to express motion.

“Uh noooo, we’re definitely doing the video games thing.”

“F*** that! I want to see some anime t*ts and B***ies!”

“Mini Bob!” Messy scoffed. “We have to keep things PG here man!” She rolled her eyes and she headed off into the kitchen. “No wonder you got fired.”

“And no wonder you have no friends!”

~~~

“ALRIGHT, NEXT VOTE STARTS NOW!”

RTV shouted. Right. Voting. Honestly Block C seemed like an interesting direction to go to. So that’s what she voted for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gonna be so real, I may be slacking with next week and the week after’s posts cuz of midterms, but we shall see!

Also I will color the image, just not tonight I’m so tired rn 😭 just wanted at least something visually to keep up with the first two posts.

@rtv-puzzlevision-studios

[lilacs-stash]

People who don't want Nickel & Suitcase to make up realize that they're the two most important people to Balloon right. They realize that them not making up would cause a lot of unnecessary conflict between the three. Right? Like do you really want Balloon and Suitcase to have conflict no no one wants that

[inanimateinsanitywiki]

knickleheads i am bestowing the gift of this song upon you

[imastoryteller]

20 Ways to Show Anger in Your Writing

Here’s a list of 20 signs of anger that writers can use to show, rather than tell, a character’s emotions through physical, verbal, and internal reactions:

1. Facial Expressions

Clenched jaw or grinding teeth

Narrowed or glaring eyes

Lips pressed into a thin line or curled into a sneer

2. Body Language

Fists clenched tightly at their sides

Tense shoulders that rise or square up

Puffing out the chest or stepping closer to confront

3. Speech Patterns

Voice lowered to a dangerous, icy tone

Shouting or raising their voice suddenly

Speaking in short, clipped sentences

4. Breathing Changes

Heavy, rapid breathing (nostrils flaring)

Sharp inhales and audible exhales

Holding their breath as if trying to stay in control

5. Sudden Physical Movements

Slamming fists onto tables or walls

Pacing back and forth restlessly

Pointing a finger or jabbing the air during speech

6. Uncontrolled Gestures

Shoving objects off a desk or knocking over a glass

Finger tapping or knuckle cracking

Wrapping arms tightly around themselves

7. Temperature and Flushes

Red face, neck, or ears

Visible veins on the neck or forehead

Breaking into a sweat despite the situation

8. Eye Movements

Eyes darting or rolling sharply

Avoiding direct eye contact out of fury

Staring someone down with unblinking intensity

9. Words and Tone

Cursing, insults, or verbal jabs

Sarcasm sharpened to hurt others

Accusations thrown in frustration

10. Breaking Personal Space

Leaning in closer, looming over someone

Pointed steps toward another person to intimidate

Physically turning away to dismiss or avoid conflict

11. Physical Reactions

Throwing objects or breaking things in rage

Punching walls, doors, or inanimate objects

Shaking hands or trembling with pent-up anger

12. Posture Shifts

Back stiffening and chin lifting defiantly

Shoulders jerking or twitching

Rigid stance as though ready for confrontation

13. Inner Thoughts (for internal POV)

“I could feel the blood boiling in my veins.”

“The room seemed to close in on me.”

“My pulse thundered in my ears.”

14. Displacement of Anger

Kicking objects on the ground (chairs, trash bins)

Storming off abruptly or slamming doors

Snapping at someone unrelated to the cause of anger

15. Temperature Descriptions (metaphors/sensations)

Heat rushing to their face or spreading through their chest

A cold sensation washing over them, signaling restrained anger

Feeling fire “lick” at their insides or their temper “ignite”

16. Instinctive Responses

A growl or grunt escaping their lips

Baring their teeth as if instinctively defensive

Ripping or tearing something in their grip

17. Silence as a Weapon

Pausing dramatically before responding

Refusing to speak or meet someone’s eyes

The ominous quiet just before they explode

18. Physical Sensations

Muscles twitching or vibrating under the skin

Heart pounding visibly at their throat or chest

A bitter taste in their mouth or nausea from anger

19. Reactive Behaviors

Interrupting others to correct or attack

Dismissing concerns with a quick wave of the hand

Throwing out ultimatums like “Don’t push me!”

20. Lingering Aftermath

Hands trembling after the initial outburst

A headache, buzzing ears, or lingering tension

Regret or shame slowly replacing the heat of the anger

These signs can be layered together to create realistic and powerful depictions of anger, whether it’s smoldering beneath the surface or erupting violently.

[bunnwich]

Cinnamon Sugar Kisses🍬(Happy Birthday Leona)

Leona's birthday always finds a way to bring him down, maybe a visit from his favorite creature might lighten the mood.

Characters: Leona Kingscholar x Yuu!Reader (GN. No physical description for Yuu. )

Words: 6k, 3rd person, Leona's POV

Notes: It's long, but I am really proud of this one. Leona is DOWN BAD in this. Deals with themes of depression and slight substance abuse.

Tagging: Moving tags to the comments!

--

Leona groaned, the sounds of the night an unpleasant cacophony in his ears as his body tangled in the blankets. The clatter of the blinds, the rushing of the waterfall down in the lounge, and the rumbling snores of the other Savanaclaw members. Riddled with envy, a soft growl passed his lips, tendrils of loose hair sticking to the sweat on his face. Climate-controlled; his ass. After stewing a bit longer on these grievances, he finally lamented to his restless mind. 

Accepting his fate this evening, he kicked off the covers.

His hand went for the familiar object stashed under his pillow. 11:47. The light of his phone screen seared into his vision. It was too damn early to be having so much trouble already.

Scoffing as he sat up fully, he bent his body over to fumble in the drawer of his nightstand until his fingers wrapped around what he was searching for. A small bottle of prescription pills. Right. He was only supposed to take one a night but, three…three had a much better chance of working.

He hadn’t even really taken them since the tournament, but his mind was on double time tonight to torment him. Leona eyed the clock again as if the inanimate object would care about his ire in the least.

“Hmph.”

11:50.

Soon, another birthday. 

He grunted in disgust. The empty family group texts, the gifts he didn’t need and definitely didn’t want. The forced grins of his peers and underclassmen that almost made him sick, all this racket for what? The solemn day of his birth? A whole country holding its breath, only to be immensely disappointed.

A day that arguably shouldn’t have happened. His parents had gotten it right the first time, right? He was well aware of the conditions of his birth…an accident ten years after his brother. He huffed at himself, and the pity party that brewed in his chest. So, what? Lots of people are born by accident.

It’s not that he didn't appreciate it, especially from the cuter underclassmen: Jack, Epel and even Ruggie. The whole Savanaclaw dorm was earnest enough. But…still there would remain that nasty feeling, nagging in his gut that made him wanna skip the whole song and dance altogether. 

His heavy eyes fell to the white pills that rolled around in his palm, before tossing one back into his throat, able to convince himself for just one extra. After all, he didn’t wanna be too groggy for the mandatory celebration tomorrow. 

He let out a little laugh to himself, the sound resonating off the walls of his room as he dumped the extras back inside the bottle. Cheers, to a life of just…existing, and joy…he had a whole lifetime ahead of him to do it more. He should feel grateful; lucky. But sometimes, it was hard to not sink comfortably into these thoughts of morbid existentialism.

Just as the dry pill rolled down his throat, a few raps sounded off at his door like magic. Fuck. He twisted the cap back on and tossed the bottle under his bed, he didn’t need another scolding from Ruggie. That or the guys were coming to wish him Happy Birthday at midnight again, he wasn’t really in the mood for visitors. “Come in.” He called out to the intruder, voice cracking. “What do you want? I’m-” 

When the door finally creaked open his back straightened and a laugh of relief rumbled from his lips. It wasn’t Ruggie or anyone from Savanclaw at all. Leona squinted, the effects of the pill from earlier making the room hazy around their face. He hadn’t even smelled them, that's how out of it he was. He tugged at his shirt to pull it down over his chest, still wearing the same brown tunic of his dorm uniform from earlier. He cleared his throat and smoothed his hair back from his face.

Yuu shrugged at his efforts to preen himself from the doorway, hair sweeping over their face and a loose tee hanging off their frame. 

“You.” Leona sounded off suspiciously. It felt like a strange dream but lucky for him, they were real and standing just a few feet away in their nightclothes. He didn't even know what to say. He hadn’t seen them in weeks. He had a strategy, after all, secretly hoping that that stupid little saying might be true. 

Distance…something…fonder… Well, it worked for him.

But, from what Ruggie had told him, Yuu was so wrapped up in the VDC rigamarole with Schoenheit, they had little time for much else. 

“Hn.” Three whole weeks of constipated feelings died inside his mouth and he grumbled at them. “What are ya doin’ here?” Leona blinked a few times, feeling the heaviness of his eyelids increase more than ever. He hoped his tone sounded better to them.

As usual, they weren't scared off or detoured by his sourness. The little beast only rolled their eyes at him and huffed as if he was inconveniencing them instead. There was that audacity he loved. 

Using their back to press the door closed, they finished shaking their head at him and dared to move inside his room. As they approached him near the bed, blue shadows from his potted palms danced over their soft, but stern face. So they intended to stay…at least for a while.

He let out a breath and swung his legs and tail over the side of the bed. All the while, the numbness in his chest began to flutter and unfreeze. Suddenly, he was aware of his heartbeat again.

“Um, it’s your birthday? Duh.” They shrugged and the crinkle of whatever was in their arms made his ears twitch.

He leaned forward to get a better look, rubbing one of his eyes before staring at the bundle in their arms. “Oh, right…” He muttered, acting like he had forgotten, “Though, you're a little early….” He gave them his best smirk, but it took more effort than usual to summon. 

Their mouth dropped open as their eyes glanced at the wooden clock on the wall.

11:58.

“Hmph.” This didn’t seem to phase them, propping a hand on their hip. The edge of their oversized shirt lifted to reveal their shorts underneath. “Guess I'll be your first.” They dangled the shiny bundle in the air between them. It was haphazardly covered in iridescent yellow wrapping paper and tied with some twine.

Leona shifted his gaze back to their coy face and he couldn’t help but smile at their usual bull-headed earnestness. He reached over and took the package from both their hands, his knuckles brushing against theirs. 

“Mmm, guess so.” He mused at their chosen words and just like that, his heart sped up. So, that thing was still working, they still had him in a vice grip. 

His first…

“Your hands are cold. You walk all the way here?” He inquired, running his finger over the small tag that dangled from the top. His name was scrawled in large, irregular handwriting along with a doodle of a frowning lion.

“Yes...how else would I get here?” They asked facetiously, adding an extra softness to their playful words. He could tell they felt sorry for him. Damn, did he look that bad? Despite their apparent pity, their face puckered into a cute little scowl, unable to hide their annoyance any longer. “Come on-” As they shook their head at him. “Just open it, okay?” They chuckled and their nose crinkled. 

Leona felt that fatal, bittersweet dip in his stomach that made him ill, and then…everything was fresh again. 

Damn, he was pathetic. Leona cleared his throat and unwrapped it slowly, smelling what it was before he saw it.

“Uh, i-it’s not much but…let’s just say, her highness hooked me up.”

He laughed at the mention of his sister-in-law, heart squeezing as he unveiled it in his lap. “Awe.” It was the smallest bag of baobab candy he’d ever fucking seen.

“But you know…I-I paid for it! I insisted, okay?” They tipped their chin in the air indignantly, poking a thumb into their chest. “Your sis, she just showed me the website basically. I ordered it online to be shipped here-” A little huff left Yuu’s mouth as they babbled on, before crossing their arms. “You like it? It’s your favorite, right?”

He looked down at the bag of candy in his lap, it was cute that they remembered cinnamon was his favorite. Just like at Vargus Camp when they sprinkled some over his cup of hot chocolate.

 “Yeah.” But, the thought of them working, only to spend money on him, made him feel…sick. But…he knew it made them feel good to do it on their own. It was good for em’ and it was…cute how worked up they were getting. At least, they thought of him.

Leona bit his lip, trying to conceal his smirk. “Thanks, really.” He knew it had to be expensive to get it sent from his country to the college. The fees themselves probably cost double what the damn candy was worth. He bit his tongue and resisted his body’s urge to move closer.

Nah.

Space… Distance, all that shit. That was safer. 

“You didn’t have to get me nothing.” He blurted out, halting the thoughts in his head, knowing they understood how much he appreciated them being here. “...But hey…If ya wanna pay tribute to me, I can think of some other ways too.” He jabbed, trying to urge some more fire from them.

Before he could blink they swatted him on the shoulder. “Cut it out…” They hissed, eyes scanning the room. What were they looking for? “Well, you’re welcome.” Their hand lingered on his shoulder instead of pulling away like he thought they might. The warmth of their fingers through his tank top, it’s all he could focus on in his sleepy haze. 

Meanwhile, they used their other hand to gesture over to his chess table. “Sooo, since I’m here. I thought maybe we could…play a game?”

He yawned at the mention, pushing some air past his teeth, looking up at them incredulously. “Tch, seriously? Chess at this hour? Ya sure it's not too boring for you?” He probably shouldn’t have added that, but his ego couldn’t help it. “You know…” His eyes drifted to their fingers, now tangled even more in the fabric of his shirt. “...If you wanted something else from me. All you have to do is ask, alright?” He said through a whisper, mesmerized by the subtle movements of their hand.

They seemed to take it better than he thought, brushing him off and still playing with his tunic. “Nope. Just a game, that’s all. “I just mi…uh-” The edge of their pouty lips curled into a smirk as they trailed off. 

His ears perked up.

“...Uh, u-unless you're too tired to take me on?“ 

“Mmm, never.” Leona snapped back, he could see the spark in their eyes. They were much more awake than him. Great Seven, what he would give for a little of that energy. He sighed as he stood slowly, stretching his arms over his head and pulling up his jeans. “Fine, if you have any chance of winning it’s gonna be when I’m dead tired like this, so-”

Their lashes fluttered, a bit of concern flashing in their eyes at his appearance, how noble. “Oh, I mean... You sure you’re up for it…?”

Leona rubbed his face, groaning in defeat. Without saying anything else, he sat down in one of the chairs by his chess table. White side, as always, and the pieces were scattered from a solo game he played earlier. He gestured to the chair across from him. “Just sit down. Come on, I’ll set the board.” --

He observed them intently as they popped another candy in their mouth. Their cheek was pressed against their knees as they eyed him back from across the board. “...What?”

Leona’s chair creaked against the floor as he leaned back some, folding his arms. A smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth. “So, what’s the verdict on my candy?”

“Mmm, it’s…not bad.” Their eyes drifted up and their lips pursed thoughtfully, sliding one of their pawns into defense against one of his knights. “Things taste better when they belong to other people you know.”

“Hm.” His smirk grew. “Is that so?” Leona had to admit, they had started out the game pretty strong. Must have absorbed something when he used to lecture them about chess openings. But, now they were falling off, the game sapping them of their vigor. Poor thing, he chuckled to himself hiding his smile as he watched them, watching him.

He knew they were just playing for his sake and he wasn’t sure if he was flattered or not. “My brother hates them.” Leona finally said, making his next move to draw the game out. Couldn’t be helped, he wanted to…look at them a little longer. 

“He says they’re...too spicy.” He chewed his lip. “You should taste the real deal though, sometimes the vendors in Sunrise City make ‘em fresh in front of you…” 

They rolled their eyes. “Pfft, well maybe he's just got bad taste.” They barely could get the words out, mouth full when they grinned. “That sounds nice.”

Leona shook his head, watching them pop in a few more pieces of the cinnamon candy, the seeds building up in one of their cheeks. “Maybe.” He remarked, his eyes widening as they kept going, stuffing their mouth full. “‘Ey now… You don’t chew the seeds up, remember?” He sighed, holding out his hand for them. “You’re supposed to spit 'em out when you're done.”

They looked at his open hand like he was insane, whites of their eyes visible. “Whaght? I didn’t vanna vee’ rude!”

Leona gestured again for them to spit, moving his open palm closer to their mouth. “And damn near choking to death is where you draw the line on being rude? This ain’t Pomfiore dorm, you can do whatever ya want here. I’ll allow it...as your gracious dorm leader.”

They made a face before spitting the now plain seeds into his palm. “Much obliged, your highness.”

He looked down and shook his head again, smothering the voice that told him to pop one of them in his mouth. Instead, he tossed the seeds in the trash a few feet away, rubbing his hand on his jeans. “Uh, it’s your move.”

Yuu rubbed their face, lids concealing half of their pretty eyes. “O-oh right...” They let out a breath, forehead wrinkling as they made their next move.

 Sloppy.

Leona tapped his chin, one side of his mouth going up at their stubbornness to continue. “Hmph.” He could tell how bored they were. He gazed down at the almost clear board and fiddled with his queen piece, reaching behind his neck to rub it. “Thanks, for…coming to’ see me tonight.” He looked at the clock, it was almost 1 in the morning now, “But, ya don’t have to stay if you're tired.” He tilted his head at them.

“Whaaaat? No, I’m not!” They dug their heels into their lie, tugging their sleep shirt over their legs. “Okay…yeah.” They confessed. “I guess this is making me a little tired but-”

Leona’s eyes trailed up the curve of their legs to their conflicted face, still squished against one of their knees. Their gaze bore into him with a rare doe-eyed stare that he was no match for. “...I wanna stay and finish the game. Okay?”

“Fine, then I’ll make this easy for ya.” He smirked, mating them with his queen piece. 

Yuu’s reaction was delayed, eyes scanning the board in disbelief. “Damn,” They grimaced. “Hey, I was actually trying there for a minute!” They cried, plopping the bag of candy in the center of the board, knocking over a few pieces. Twisting around, they pulled their phone from a pocket on their shorts. “Mmm, look!” They turned it around. “I’ve been practicing…when I have time. I’ll have you know I’m…uh- number 795 on the Night Raven College Board!”

Leona crossed his arms again, ears shifting toward them. “Hmph. I know, I could tell. You did...good there in the beginning. Just need to work on your midgame and-”

As he was going on they stood, snatching up the candy bag, knocking one of the pieces on the floor. They began pacing around his bed like a kitten looking for a sleeping spot, before plopping down where he had just been tossing and turning an hour ago.

They fiddled with the small bag of candy, before popping a fresh one between their red-stained lips. Laying back against the sheets, their shapely legs crossed as they wiggled their little feet. After a minute, their head slowly turned to him as they sucked on the seeds, the moon outside making all their bare skin glow. “Hm?” 

Oh right, he had stopped talking. “Hn, Nevermind.” He grumbled, waving his hand in the air. He stood too, and followed, getting a closer look at the creature who so bravely laid claim to his bed right now. His? Nah, more like a wild little beast passing by. He had always known they weren’t the type to be tamed.

He chuckled as he came up to the side of the bed and looked down at them. “C’mon. Go to sleep now. No need to hang ‘round here for my sake. My birthday’s nothin’ important…I’ll have enough people kissin’ my ass tomorrow and singing my praises. Go back to the Ramshackle where you belong.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Lion.” Their features wrinkled indignantly as they only lifted their head to stuff more candy in their mouth, rolling it around behind their teeth. They flipped over to lay on their belly, kicking pointedly on one of his pillows as they spoke. “Oh, come on,” They propped their head on their elbows to glare at him. “You know you don’t want me to leave.”

“So?” He rolled his eyes, unsure of what game they were playing now. “Ain’t about me.” He snorted and worked his fingers on his temple and at the headache that was building behind his eyes.

“It is…your birthday.” They continued to roll the candy on their tongue and he was close enough to smell their saliva mixed with the cinnamon. “Do you…want me to stay?”

Leona blinked a few times, the purr of their words causing his ears to tingle. The pills were still not helping his twitterpated haze. “Course. Course, I do.” He sat down a safe distance near the end of the bed, still haunted by the sound of the candy in their mouth. “Tch. You should know that.” He turned his back to them.

After a moment, they sighed and crawled toward him. They crept up beside him like a timid little rabbit now, still laying on their belly, breaching his space until their bare arm was touching his. “How have you been?” They asked without missing a beat or lingering on any awkwardness that came before.

He had to laugh. There wasn’t much to tell. “Fine.” He said simply, it wasn’t a lie. “Don’t feel like a complete nuisance lately. And ya know…practice has been going pretty well. Everyone’s all fired up to do better in the summer, of course.” He sighed as his smirk faded.

“That’s good but-” They lifted their brows, a smile tugging at their mouth. “You’re fine?”

“Awe, don’t fret about me now… Wouldn’t say I’m worse. School’s got me in this troublesome therapy program, you know after…everything. So uh, it’s more like: I’m…treading water. Survivin’. I’ll be alright.” He looked away, the end of his tail tapping on the sheets. “Though I gotta say my birthday, you know…the concept of my existence ‘n all: my “place” in the world. All of that, always finds a way of…bringing me down a little.” 

He couldn’t see their face but he felt them shift, sitting up. A pair of legs appeared to dangle beside his. He figured he wouldn’t have to explain himself any further for them to understand. 

“I’m…sorry, Leona.”

“Don’t be, said I was fine.” He cleared his throat and looked down at them, now perched so diligently by his side. The warmth that kindled between both their arms felt…nice. Most of the skin-to-skin contact he received nowadays was from tumbling into club members during practice. “Can’t fix what you didn't break and all that.” He rubbed his face and peeked at them through his hand, watching them process his words. 

As usual, he wanted to know what they were thinking. Leona smiled, he may not know for sure but he could see it, the way their eyes watered up. He hated the idea of being pitied but...he’d like to think it was something more now after all they'd been through together. That they were now somebody to each other, both their lives altered in a way they couldn’t go back on. And that the way they looked at him, meant something more.

“I understand.” They said in a voice so quiet it made his ear shiver. “If…it’s any consolation next time you’re, I don’t know, pondering your existence? Just know, I’m glad that you exist. I’m glad that we met, Leona.”

“Oh, really?” That was it. His breath caught, and his heart pounded at the simple words. How cute, he could even see them nibble on their lip in the dark. He knew they meant it, but he couldn’t help himself. “...Awe well, I’m glad my 21 years of torment could bring some levity into your life. That I exist for your entertainment,” He bit his lip and snickered at their expression of disbelief.

Soon they laughed too, covering their mouth quickly to spit out the baobab seeds into their hand, then hurrying to put them on his nightstand. 

They butted their whole body against him when they came back and he gave in, letting their weight fall over him as they both cackled. 

“Shut up.” Yuu slapped his chest once, but he seized them easily, pinning their arms to their sides. “Let go of me! You deserve to be hit! You almost made me choke to death just now!” They sputtered, loose hair falling all around their flustered face. “Then, just think, every year on your birthday you’d have a real reason to be mopy!”

He laughed even harder, laying his head back into the blankets, their soft, warm weight feeling good on top of him. “Heh, I guess you're right.”

Yuu scoffed, looking down at him disapprovingly but stayed anyway, chest pressed to his. They didn’t flinch in his arms like a skittish little prey animal, or look away in shame of the feelings between them. This time they only gazed down at him, eyes like mirrors, tilting their head to survey him. Leona stared back with equal intrigue, resisting the urge to wipe the stray cinnamon dust from the corners of their mouth.

Leona felt them let go of a held breath and relax into his arms. He took that as a sign to loosen his grip and wrap his arms around their lower back. In response, they only secured their position of dominance, nestling their head into his shoulder, acting like they belonged there. 

Hmph.

His heart began to settle down and accept their gentle nuzzles, he still had to play it cool after all.

They smelled so good, just how he remembered. Sweet, but not too sweet, and earthy like the gardens back home in the dawn. His eyes fell closed. Oh, yeah. There it was, rearing its nasty head. Forces beyond both their understanding and any sense of logic, tangling them together again. Oh well, he was too weak to refuse.

In this moment of honesty, they only wiggled their foot against his as he let his tail drape over the back of their soft legs. Who did they think they were? Laying on him like he was just there to be a handsome pillow for them? Ack, who was he kidding? This is what he wanted, as soon as they stepped through his threshold an hour and half ago. Just comfort.

“You hungry?” They blurted out, face squished against his collarbone. “I’m starving.” They flicked their fingers at the end of his braid, their voice small like a child. He would have agreed no matter what they asked.

“Yeah.” --

They lead the way down the wooden walkways, wrapped tight in one of his blankets. Every so often their eyes would glint as they turned around to give him a small glance, making sure he was still following behind them. He laid on the counter while they cooked and while they complained how unsanitary it all was. It was bittersweet to see that they still remembered where everything was in the dorm.

He chuckled as they rambled on about various things while cooking, content to observe their chaotic technique. It was a lot like their skills in potion-making class. Climbing on the counters, spilling things and sticking their fingers in the mixture to taste along the way.

At the end of it, Yuu managed to cook the two of them some sort of egg dish along with some of the ham for his birthday tomorrow. It was his wasn’t it? Surely no one would notice one rabbit-sized and one lion-sized serving carved out of the side of the meat.

Once back in his room, they present the meal as if they were dining somewhere fancy.

The flavors were simple but good. For someone with no training they were good in the kitchen. That’s what he liked about their and Ruggie’s food. It was never boring, but the ingredients were few and humble, like their potion making: each one had a purpose. There was no fluff or pretention in the end product. As they ate together on his bed he forgot all about his birthday. It was just the two of them, and he was already homesick at the idea they would leave again.

“Ugh,” They lamented, face twisted in disgust as they poked their fork in the last bit of food on his plate, offering it to his awaiting mouth. “I swear you always win, And what you don’t...you cheat at.” They narrowed their eyes at him.

“Sore loser talk.” He retorted with a sly expression, opening his jaw to gladly savor the final bite of the meat and eggs, arms behind his head to rest back on the pillows. They lost to him alright and feeding him the last of his meal was their “punishment.” “Mmph, and how pray tell would I ever cheat at rock-paper-scissors, Beast?” He asked through his chewing, licking his lips.

They pulled back the utensil roughly, letting it clatter to the plate. “Ugh, I don’t know. but I’m watching you.” Their upper lip curled up as they scowled, revealing their own little fang before crawling over him to flop down. The black and white shadows played over their face from the screen. He didn’t use the digital projector much that his family got him last year, but tonight was an exception.

“How ferocious.” He purred at them, letting out a content sigh. Now that his belly was full he was even more weary. Leona’s lids grew heavier and heavier as his eyes settled on their form on the end of his bed. Their little huffs and rhythmic breaths sent tingles up his legs as they lay draped across him watching the movie. 

How could he go to bed with a view like this?

“Mmm.” It was quiet as nothing but the film played out, the pictures reflecting in their wide eyes as they watched in rapture. He decided on one they hadn’t seen yet: an old noir he was fond of; a mystery. He figured they’d like that. Their little feet popped back and forth in the air as they continued to watch and after an indeterminate amount of time they gave him a backward glance.

“What’s up?” As their brow wrinkled at him they fished their two fingers into the candy bag. “Got a staring problem?” Licking the cinnamon from their fingertips they laid a seed on their red-stained tongue. They grabbed another and he could hear that they hit the bottom of the bag, eyes going a bit wide at the revelation, hoping he wouldn’t notice. 

“Nothin.’” Leona responded, head dizzy and chest a bit lighter. “Are ya comfortable?” He used his tail to mess with them, flicking the end of it in their face.

They sputtered, attempting to swat it away as he dodged them, continuing to play with them. “Yes, Yes I am and you’re botherin’ me!” They put a finger up to their lip. “Shh! I can’t hear when you talk.” They knitted their brows at him before licking at the seed pinched between their fingers  “...And get that thing outta my face before I bite it.”

“Oh, I’m quivering in fear.” He hissed before he finally had enough messing with them. His lips curved into a small grin of his own, his tail settling over the small of their back.

They looked back at him with mischievous eyes, form glowing by the moon on his bed.

“Mmm.” As their eyes settled on the screen, a dullness painted over their gaze as they looked down fumbling with the empty candy bag, clearly too beat to take any more jabs at him.

“Hm, You’re tired, aren’t cha? How is it? At the madhouse?”

“Well,” Their shoulders went up in a shrug and their eyes wandered the room. “To be honest…That’s kinda why I wanted to come here. Uh, I mean besides your birthday and all. Is that… bad?” They grimaced, awaiting his reaction.

He wanted to say it, but the words were stuck in his throat, and he didn’t wanna push it. He could behave, hold back. 

“Nah,” He assured them and the rest of the words just slipped out. That and his hands had a mind of their own. “...Happy to be your distraction.” He sat up fully and moved closer, reaching down to tuck their hair behind their ear.

This caused them to adjust their position on his legs, blinking up at him. They gave him a little nod to assure him that how close he came was okay, even moving closer so he could reach them better. “But...Is that fair?” Yuu asked through a whisper, pupils a bit shaky.

He chuckled as he let his fingers drift down their cheeks, wiping the corners of their mouth with his thumbs, like he had been wanting to do all night. “Life’s not fair.” He said, letting out a small scoff at the deflated candy bag beside them. “Well, looks like you cleaned me out. So much for a birthday gift…” He teased, but he couldn't give less of a fuck.

Their wide gaze darted down to where he was looking but still allowed him to continue touching them. “Shit.” They hissed and he could feel their face go warm in his hands. I guess I’m a little distracted.” Yuu puffed out a breath, and they smiled “Vil doesn’t even let us have snacks. He locks the fridge after 8. Like…I’m not even competing! S-sorry, about the candy.” 

It wasn’t like them to apologize. He tipped their chin up so he could see their face better. “...I’m just messin’ with ya. C’mon.” He was listening to them as best he could but he also felt himself getting sucked in. He swallowed. “Ey...you can eat whatever you want when you're with me.” He arched his brow, giving them a little wink.

“Hmph.” They let out a little relieved chuckle and relinquished his touch, letting their weary face fall into his cupped hand like the cute little herbivore they were.

“Oh.” He let out an audible sound at this development, as something stabbed through his chest. They were so damn cute and he was so damn pathetic. Sometimes the feelings were so intense that it hurt. Who woulda thought someone like him would be such a sap?

“It’s overwhelming…” They continued to wiggle closer, until they could lean their forehead in the center of his chest. Their eyes fell closed, and his fingers tangled in their hair as he began stroking the back of their neck. 

He didn’t really know what the hell he was doing, he wasn’t used to comforting someone like this. But he was trying, and their skin was so damn soft under his fingertips. 

“At every turn…there's someone telling me what to do. Everyone at the house being all needy and in the way. Ugh, I’m over it. Is that selfish?”

“Un-uh. Nothin’ wrong with wanting a little peace of mind,” He said, his fingers wrapping around their shoulders. “Know I wouldn’t last more than a day in that place…” He slipped his hands under their hair and traced down their back, letting his knuckles skate down their spine. “Looks like you’ve got more patience then me.”

They took note of his attempt to soothe them and began to play with his shirt as they talked. 

“-Sounds like you could use a break…” 

They froze at his words as if a realization struck them, features softening before him. “Yeah I-” Craning their head back they looked up at him, now eye to eye “I think…that’s why I came here.”

“Mmhmm,” He couldn't help it, his smile grew tenfold and his ego swelled. “Oh really? I’m that boring then, eh? That you only come to me to eat and sleep?” He was teasing them, but he could tell he struck a nerve.

“What?” They rolled their eyes at him, cocking their head. “N-no! I- Look! I know it’s your “day of birth” and all but I think I prefer the cocky, less self-deprecating Leona.” Unfortunately, this caused them to move from his lap and Yuu began to stack both their plates as they mumbled to themself. He resisted the urge to hold onto them and instead watched them pout and clean up, reaching down to set the objects on the floor.

“Tch, well…he's tired.” He shrugged. “Wasn’t a jab anyways I-”

There was a small rattle and he went quiet, knowing that they saw the bottle. They didn't say anything at first as they stretched back up, but after a moment of silence, their gaze went back to him. “You…goin’ to classes tomorrow?”

“Nah,” He crossed his arms. “Not if I can help it anyway.” He let himself fall back on the bed again, staring at the ceiling.

“You’re sure you're okay, Leona?”

He cursed himself for not hiding it better. “Don’t ask me that. I told ya, I’m fine. I wasn’t just saying it to make ya feel better. Tonight’s actually the first night I’ve taken ‘em since-'' He shook his head. “And it’s still not enough…” He muttered. “I’d sure be much better if I had a drink too tomorrow, heh.” He smirked as he rolled over, only to find them kneeling there close to him in the center of the bed. “Awe, now don’t look at me like that either...”

Their shoulders lowered and their face was soft again as they studied him, tunic hanging off of one of their arms. “Like what?”

“Like…my family.”

Yuu’s brows shot up and their expression shifted to one of defense. “I’m not.” They clenched the sheets below them. “No way I can judge you…” Yuu released a breath.” Were you…having trouble sleeping then? You just look…” They reached down, to tug on his braid. “...tired.” As they said this their hand went around his jaw, carefully moving his hair from his face.

“So I look that much like shit, eh?” At their touch the weight of it all began to collapse on him, Leona reached a hand to his face to overlap the back of theirs. “Yeah. I only took one anyway. Well, two...”

“Leona!” They scolded him in that voice, the one they used to use to keep everyone in line at this damn school. He missed it. It wasn’t too naggy or condescending. It hit him at his core, made his back straighten, and usually he knew they were right.

“What?”

“You’ve been tellin’ me to go to bed all night but…you are the one who should go to sleep!” They bit their lip as they laughed at him, shaking their head as they continued to pet him.

“But, I…can't.” He mouthed, the vision of their face above him a bit blurry. He wasn’t sure how it happened, how his head ended up in their lap, but he did, their soft thighs pressed against his face. They must have felt pretty bad for him. 

“Mmm, looks like being a bit pathetic has its perk-”

“Shh-”

A wry chuckle rumbled in his chest and he put up his hands in defeat, lowering his ears. “Fine. You’re the boss, but…if you're gonna put me to bed…don’t I get a little somethin’ sweet? Technically you ate all my-”

Before he could say anything else he felt something soft and supple on his face, tracing on the edge of his scar. He let out a breath and his eyes widened as he sat up, tail standing on end.

They looked down at him a bit coy, touching a few fingers to their lips. “Sheesh… Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Didn’t know you lions were so jumpy.”

He swallowed, but tried to save face, running a hand through his hair. “...You lions, huh? He echoed. “Didn’t know little creatures like you were so…bold. N’ what was that all about?”

They rolled their eyes at his words, meanwhile they were acting so innocent, the final scenes of the movie playing behind their head. “I don’t know. Just a little…birthday gift. Something sweet.” Their shoulders rose up as they continued their little game. “If that’s okay.”

It was more than okay, he liked this game, when they came to play with him on their own. “Oh? A gift, huh?” His chest pounded so fast it was hard to speak, those damn pills. “...Sorry think I was a little…half asleep. I don't remember anything sweet…” He said through a delirious smirk. No way would it work but-

Without warning they slipped their fingers around his jaw, leaning down to kiss him again. This time, Yuu didn’t miss. They went straight for the kill, fitting their pouty lips between his for only a few seconds. Their soft little sighs, pulling at his broken heartstrings. When they were done, he was able to catch his breath again, a tingle going up his spine. He licked the taste of them from his lips, savoring it, the spices from the candy making his mouth water. The ball was in their court and if this is what they wanted he wouldn’t refuse them.

But, as usual, he was greedy…so he tested his luck once more. 

He panted chewing his lip, “Hmph. That…all I get?” He frowned as if he wasn’t satisfied. “Hm, it is my birthday, after all.” 

He managed to get a little laugh and a snort of disbelief from them. “...Needy.” The words were hot over his mouth as they lowered themselves to him again, nails digging into his jaw. They took their time with him, spreading their attention to the rest of his face beyond his mouth, leaving a trail of fire behind each little kiss. 

Leona’s eyes rolled back, no one ever kissed him quite like they did. 

He swore they did it on purpose, trying to coax the little noises from back of his throat. As they laid their lips on him more, his fingers gripped onto own his shirt, heart thudding against his knuckles. He let them do all the work as they pampered him, his tail bobbing between his legs. And all he could do was melt into their lap as they killed him over and over with their cinnamon sugar kisses. Unfortunately, he knew if he let himself taste them back, he wouldn’t be able to stop till he devoured them, and he didn’t wanna overwhelm them…this time. 

When they were done he felt drunk, his lips still burning from the candy dust, lungs full of their sweet breaths. His head was dizzier than sleeping pills would have ever made him. It was fatal. He knew this would be even more habit-forming than any of his other vices. 

“Now, that was somethin’ sweet…” 

They stared down at him, a bit unimpressed, wiping the left over drool he had left on the edge of their mouth. “...You gonna sleep now, Lion?” They mused, playing with his braid, and using it to tap at his forehead.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going.” He let his eyes fall closed and sighed, the hole in his chest stitched together, for now. He felt himself drifting off already, safe in their custody, still licking his lips. 

“Hey?”

“Hm?”

Tell me…’bout your day, hm? Mmm, what have you been doing since I last saw ya? Tell me anything.” He commanded softly. His body became more weightless in their arms as they petted his hair, massaging his scalp around his limp ears. “I wanna listen while I…”

“Oh? Am I that boring? You want me to put you to sleep?” Their soft laughter echoed above, so far off now.

He used the last reserves of his energy to chuckle one last time. “No, I just wanna…hear ya. That’s all.” 

The last thing he felt was their lips over his left eyelid, then his right. That was it, this little move caused his eyes to burn. Hm, no one had ever kissed him like that, it was like he was a kid again. 

“Fine. Happy Birthday, Leona.”

--

[jasmineoolongtea]

plastic palm trees ― gojo satoru

caught in a dream, it's not what it seems

contents: gojo satoru x f!reader (exes), from the reader's pov this time, nicknames (sweets), angst, hurt + no comfort, questionable coping mechanism, small moments of happiness/fluff (in the flashbacks/memories), suggestive themes for like one memory, swearing/cursing, insecurities from the reader's side, drinking/alcohol

summary: memories from during and immediately after your relationship with satoru (pt. 2 to deeply still in love)

wc: 4.7k (wow that's a doozy and sorry on my part for any errors you might spot because this is kinda not proofread)

a/n: ahhh ty guys sm for the love on deeply still in love, i was not expecting it to blow up like that but i'm just so happy that you guys also enjoy it as well !!! this is kinda a part 2 but not really since it's mainly flashbacks. there is a part 3/conclusion to this whole mini saga coming soon so watch out for it :000. art by objectgraphy on x (nsfw warning for the full pic)

It plays again in your head like a clip from a movie you've seen way too many times.

It's you and him, just the two of you and no one else, sitting in his stupid beat-up black jeep wrangler that's probably seen too much by this point that's parked in the middle of some random parking lot well past midnight by now.

Satoru always complains that something's broken for the hundredth time whenever he comes to pick you up from your dorm for another one of his late-night rendevous however despite all this complaining, you're always greeted with the sight of the same black car even though you know he has a car collection that's way too extensive for any reasonable university student to have.

You're pretty sure you've lost count of how many times you've asked to just get a new car at this point but he always refuses for some reason that's beyond you.

Nostalgia, he says as he pats the well-worn leather lining of its interior. We've been through a lot, me and this one, he'll add on, talking about the vehicle as a person rather than some inanimate object and then he'll start pouting at you like some sort of petulant child when you stare back at him unconvinced.

There's a part of you that wants to call him a 'sentimental idiot' for stuff like this but actually, habits like this only serve to further endear him to you in some weird twist of fate and you can only muster an affectionate eye roll as a response.

There's no particular reason as to why you and Satoru would drive out and just sit and be together like this. It wasn't even because of this specific parking lot as well since you two would just usually drive around until you found a parking lot that looked empty enough and just park there to bask under the canopy of the night sky above.

It was always so quiet. You liked the quiet.

Before you met Satoru, you thought this quiet was something only you could keep to yourself but he taught you that there was merit to be had in sharing the quiet with someone else. Even if that someone else might make your 'quiet' much louder than what you're typically used to.

"I like it here." You mumble softly in the sleeves of your (his) sweater. It was one of your favourites because it was soft and it smelled like him.

"You like the city?" There's an edge of suspicion in his voice like he can't believe someone could ever like this place coming from someone who's grown up in said city. To be fair, the place had its good, bad and ugly and maybe as a city native, he had become accustomed to more of the bad and ugly rather than the good.

"I mean, it's nicer from where I came from. A lot of places are nicer than the town I'm from." You laugh half-heartedly as you lean against the cold glass of the window.

Satoru goes quiet for a moment. You don't talk about your hometown that much and for good reason, in your opinion. University was one of your few chances to get out of there and you took that chance without so much of a look back or regret in your mind.

It's nice, cosy even, if you ignore the slight tingling sensation crawling up your legs when you sit in the way you like to sit for too long or the fact that you're both hanging out in an abandoned parking lot in the dead of night. Whatever this is, you think you wouldn't change it for the world if you were given the choice.

Too bad, your getaway couldn't last forever.

The words are weighing heavy on your tongue, just there on the tip as if they're ready to jump off any second but you tighten your lips in a frail attempt to stop them from spilling out. You know the words you're going to have to say will change the way that things are, no matter how much you want things to stay like this.

Satoru leans his head against the car window next to him, hitting the glass with a soft bonk that you're sure hurts but of course, he doesn't react to the collision. Instead, his attention is focused on staring at you, angling his body in a way so that he can get a better look at you, with that classic dopey smirk of his plastered on his face as he does.

A part of you hates him for being able to look so good even in the broken glow of the overhead parking lot lights that would have made anyone else look sickly under its cracked yellow hue.

Not him though, never him. He looks like an angel, you think to yourself, with the way the wisps of white hair splayed out around him illuminate into something that resembles a halo which further elevates his already ethereal features into something otherwordly.

"Shame, it can't last though." You murmur quietly to yourself, moreso of in the vein of thinking out loud rather than starting a conversation. Unfortunately for you, it seems he's heard you.

"What do you mean?" He asks, sitting a little bit straighter in the driver's seat as he looks on inquisitively.

You avoid looking back at him because you know if you could see his expression, it would only make saying goodbye harder. "I can't stay, Toru." You tell him as you gaze into the black nothingness of the night sky from inside the car. "I'll have to move back after graduation."

"What? Why?"

"The rent is crazy expensive here. The only reason I can stay here for uni is because of the student pricing and now that we're graduating, there's no way I can afford to find a place in time." You gnaw nervously at the bottom of your lip as you speak, a bad habit, you know, but it's just something you can't really kick.

You don't want it to end like this, who would? You don't want to say goodbye to the city, to your life, to him. You've had your first taste of true independence and it's being taken away from you because of stupid expensive rent prices, of all things.

A very anti-climatic way to go out if anyone were to ask you.

The car is dead silent for a few minutes. You're scared for whatever his reaction is going to be. He's going to break up with you, isn't he? You think to yourself and you hate the fact that your mind instantly jumps to the worst option but you can already feel a pit start forming at the bottom of your stomach .

The longer the silence drags the more you're convinced he's going to kick you out of the car or something worse and you can already feel yourself bracing for whatever fallout is coming your way.

"Then move in with me. I have an apartment here, a pretty good apartment if you ask me." He states, shrugging his shoulders casually as if he were simply talking about the weather instead of suggesting something as major as this.

"...What?" You reply, though your words come out more as a question as you try to comprehend what he's just asked.

A beat of silence passes the two of you. You don't move.

"I'm serious. Move in with me." You scan his face for any of the typical telltale signs that he might be pulling a prank on you and you find his face scarily devoid of any of them.

Oh, he's dead serious, you think to yourself, with the way he's looking expectantly at you.

"Satoru, do you understand what you're asking?" You ask, still in a state of disbelief at his offer.

He makes a face at you like the answer to your question is the most obvious thing in the world.

"Obviously, if I didn't why would I ask you." He remarks as he raises an eyebrow at you and before you can open your mouth to retort back, he brings a finger up to your lips to silence you. "And, it's not that strange of a request considering the fact that you're my girlfriend. Don't people in a relationship usually move in together like isn't that some big relationship milestone that they look forward to?"

"I-I mean it is but still."

"Okay, then what's the problem."

"I don't know." You sigh, mulling over his proposition in your head for a bit before turning back to him.

"Just promise me this, Toru. Promise me you won't get sick of me?" You ask him as you reach out your pinky towards him.

A pinky promise. It's childish you know but Satoru knows how much small things like this mean to you.

He reaches his hand out to you and interlocks his pinky with you but before you can pull away, he laces his other fingers with yours and brings your hands up to his lips for a soft kiss. The tips of your ears burn red at the way his lips brush your skin.

"Sweets, I could never get sick of you. Actually, I don't think I could ever get over you as long as I lived."

"You better hope that's true or I'm gonna make you eat your words." You grin cheekily at him, a smile which he reciprocates tenfold before basically pouncing over the console to wrap his arms around you. A squeal escapes you as you burst out into a fit of giggles as he peppers your face with feather-light kisses all whilst fighting off your weak attempts at pushing him off.

His arms rest against the plush leather of the passenger seat, trapping you against him, as his flurry of kisses dies down. He stops for a second, admiring the sight of you so close to him and a part of you wants to shrink from the intensity of his gaze. Unfortunately with the way that his arms are caging you in, there's nowhere to hide and you're left at his mercy.

Satoru leans closer, barely inches away from your face as he hovers right above your lips. "Oh yeah? Well, you're gonna be waiting for a long time because that's never gonna happen." His lips find their place against yours, melting into you like they were made for you and you think to yourself that this must be what home feels like.

Another memory of a happier time flashes through after that.

This time, you're lost in between the bedsheets with him, bare skin on skin as the two of you whisper sweet nothings to each other like lovers do in the dead of night when there's no one watching.

"I like it here." He mutters softly. His arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him like you're his very own lifeline, and his legs are haphazardly intertwined with yours in some mess of limbs that might be able to pass as an abstract art piece if you look at it right from a certain angle.

The blanket is resting dangerously low around his hips and you're wondering how he isn't freezing as you cling onto him as your own personal space heater in the darkness that surrounds the two of you.

It's quiet once again.

"What? Us naked in your bed?" You quip.

"You know that's not what I meant." He groans into your bare shoulder as you giggle softly to yourself, clearly pleased with your well-timed jibe.

"Sorry, I just had to take the opportunity to tease you."

You can't necessarily see him right now but you're sure he's probably lovingly rolling his eyes at you. A sigh escapes his lips and you shiver slightly from the way the blast of hot air hits your skin.

"I like it here when it's just me and you and there's no one else except us in this world." He confesses to you as his fingers begin to explore the expanses of your body as if trying to commit the way you feel under his fingertips into memory.

You bite the corner of your lip as you fight the urge to shrink under his delicate touch.

There's another jest resting on the tip of your tongue but you decide that Satoru's had enough terrorising on your behalf so you say nothing and instead quietly soak up this rare respite from the busyness of everyday life that has been afforded to you two.

"Just us, together, in this bed where we don't need to care about anything else except just that." He adds on, his voice resolute and although you don't say anything out loud, you think you agree with him.

In here, in between these four walls, you two can pretend that the entire world existed within these confines and all the two of you needed to do was to reach out and you had the world at your fingertips. At the end of the day, it was simple and something the two of you could forever return to.

You wished that things could stay simple.

Before you can linger on that moment any longer, it's gone in the blink of an eye as another memory swoops in to take its place.

The door to your shared apartment creeks open and as you crane your head towards the doorway from your spot on the sofa, you're greeted with the sight of a slightly dazed Satoru clumsily entering.

"What's up?" You ask as you shoot up from your place, quickly making your way across the apartment to check up on him as a pang of concern over his current state hits you.

At the sight of you, Satoru is suddenly drawn back into reality as he blinks owlishly for a few seconds as if attempting to reacquaint himself with his surroundings and bring his clearly distracted mind back into reality.

"I just got a call from my family's company. They're giving me the chance to head a new division they want to expand into." He replies as he runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit of his which shows that this offer is clearly weighing heavy on him. You take his hand in yours and give it a comforting squeeze in the way that he would do for you all those times before, a gesture you can tell he greatly appreciates with the way his shoulders sag with relief.

He confesses softly to you. "I don't know if I should do it."

"Why? What's holding you back?" You question, somewhat confused by his hesitation. This is a major offer and you're surprised that he isn't jumping off the walls with excitement but you're sure he must have his reasons.

"I just- The hours are going to be long and well, you know how many family is and the elders are-"

You cut him off sharply, sensing that Satoru was on his way down a lengthy ramble. "I think you should take it." He stares at you, almost slightly bewildered at your apt response. "It'll be good for you."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure Toru. If you don't take this opportunity, you're going to regret later down the line." You insist, sending a reassuring smile his way. Even if he can't see it now, you're sure that this going to be good for him. For the both of you.

Whatever new hurdles that might come your way from this like Satoru is convinced is going to happen, you have faith that the two of you can make it out relatively unscathed.

It's good to have faith right?

The new question was, how long can your faith carry you?

You're pacing back and forth in your shared apartment for what seems like the millionth time as you anxiously watch the seconds tick down on the clock.

"Hey, Toru. What time do you think you're going to be back?" You're trying to balance the phone between your ear and shoulder as you smooth out a napkin to the best of your ability. It's looking a little wonky, if you're going to be honest and maybe tonight of all nights wasn't really the time to find out if you were good at folding napkins into fancy shapes like they do at the restaurant but you needed tonight to go according to plan.

It had to. Tonight was an important night for both of you.

"Why, what's the occasion?" From the way he's asking, you don't think he's putting on an act of pretending not to know for the surprise. Rather, it's a genuine question on his behalf and somehow, for some reason, that feels even worse than outright disgust.

"Did you forget?" You feel your voice falter ever so slightly, another crack etching its way onto your already fragile heart. "It's our anniversary dinner."

"Shit, I'm so sorry, sweets. It totally slipped my mind with all of these meetings and stuff they're having me do." You hear an exhausted sigh ring out from the other side of the phone in between the cacophony of other voices taking up space in the background. "I'll make it up to you, I swear."

"...No, It-it's fine. We can just reschedule this stuff for another day." A breathy laugh leaves your lips in a weak attempt to try and convince him that it was truly alright and that it was just something else to brush off.

"...If you say so."

"I'm serious, Satoru. It's fine, I can just reschedule things for another day that's all." Another one to add to the evergrowing pile, a bitter voice barks from within the recesses of your mind.

Much to your chagrin, you're unfortunately becoming much more acquainted with this voice and although you haven't responded to its taunts yet, you can feel your resolve wearing away with each late night you watch the streets below for any sign of life, his life to be specific.

Worst of all, you can't say you regret this, can you? Because if you do, then it would basically be confessing that all of the pain and late nights the both of you have been sacrificing have been all for nought and that you were wrong for pushing the both of you down this path.

It needs to be worth it so that there's a reason for this pain that you're feeling when things like this become an afterthought but you're starting to wonder how many times you have to say it until it becomes real instead of just a pipe dream you had the misfortune of being caught in.

Soon, it seemed that these doubts weren't just one-sided anymore.

"This is good for us, right?" Satoru asks one night as the two of you are getting ready for bed. It's been a while since the two of you have gone to bed at the same time as your clocks fall further and further out of sync the longer you two spend out of each other's embrace. There's a strong hint of uncertainty in his voice like he's trying to convince himself as much as he's trying to convince you. "...You're happy right?"

You don't look at him in the eye. You can't. "Right, yeah. I mean, this is what we want." Your answer isn't as resolute as you hoped that it would come out but you brush past it in the hopes of making sure whatever doubts you may have bubbling underneath your surface remain there.

"You didn't answer my other question."

A nervous laugh escapes you. "What do you mean?"

"Are you happy?" You stop in your tracks for a moment as you process his question.

There were a lot of things you could have said at that time, the truth would have been a good option, but instead, you chose to swallow the difficult choice down and take the easy way out by plastering on a sickly sweet smile and lying to him through your teeth.

"Of course, I'm happy Satoru."

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you're greeted with that oh-so-familiar sensation of that pit in the bottom of your stomach as the bitter voice you've tried to suppress makes its infamous return to the forefront of your mind.

Looking back at it now, maybe you should have said the truth, it would have saved you two a lot of pain in retrospect but pride is a funny thing and you're sure that Satoru was in the same position you were in at this point.

That's probably why he didn't push any further after your response, no matter how fake it probably sounded out loud. It's either that or he wanted to believe that you were actually telling the truth.

You're not sure which one is worse.

In another world, you would like to think that there's a point to your mind deciding to subject you to this trip down memory lane aside from dredging up your past pains and regrets to torture you. Maybe, in this other world, you would have a sudden life-changing revelation awaiting you at the end of the road but all you can see just nothing.

It's better this way, right? For the both of you.

You told yourself that when you sat him down and broke up with him in the total sum of a few sentences before leaving because you didn't want to truly say goodbye to him as that would make everything more real and therefore much worse. You told yourself that when you sat in the backseat of your friend's car they came to pick you up for a night out because they insisted that you needed to get out of your head sometimes. You tell yourself this when you stare into the barrel of the gun in the form of the glass of alcohol sitting in front of you.

He deserves better than being lied to on the daily and someone like you holding him back. You can't even remember the last time you actually, truly looked him in the eye for longer than a few seconds. You imagine the old you who loved to get lost in the vast expanses of his cerulean eyes that would gaze at you like you were the one who personally hung the stars in the sky.

Before, if his eyes were the great roaring ocean, you would gladly let yourself get pulled under by the tide even if it meant drowning in its depth. Now, you're scared to even dip your toes in the shoreline when the wave is nothing more than just the remnants of sea foam.

You reach over for another sip, pretending like the burning aftertaste left in its wake doesn't make you want to wince.

Maybe Satoru was onto something with his dislike of alcohol. You've learned that after a few drinks, all liquor, no matter the amount of zeros slapped onto the end of its price tag starts to taste the same by the end of the night.

There's just so much of him everywhere. In the objects, the, hell even the air. You think you might suffocate from the sheer amount of him you're surrounded by. It doesn't matter where you go, all you can see is him.

You needed to get out.

Pushing past the crowd all whilst ignoring the confused calls of your friends to your sudden switch in behaviour, you stumble your way to the bathroom and lock the door behind you as you slump down defeated next to the sink.

Truth be told, his question haunts you more than you would like to admit.

"Are you happy?"

You don't think you are. Maybe you should be, you have everything that would usually qualify for someone to answer that they are happy and you're no longer that struggling student you were a few years ago which is definitely a plus.

You tell other people that you are 'happy' when they ask, with a smile that never reaches your eyes and a grip that's probably too tight on whatever you're holding in your hands at the time but the answer never feels right, no matter how many times you say it out loud and let it roll off your tongue.

Despite what you tell yourself, perhaps the time when you were happy, truly happy, was when you were with him.

Deep down, you think that if you were given the choice between now and then, you would trade all of this for a chance to be those dumb kids sitting and making out in parking lots without a care in the world except for each other again in a heartbeat.

As you study the tiles of the wall opposite you, you think to yourself that it would be nice to stay here in this bathroom, far away from the rest of the world and far away from what feels like all your regrets personified but the logical, reasonable part of you knows that there's no way you could realistically stay here any longer before your friends start worriedly banging on the door.

Slowly, your shoulders deflate with a defeated sigh as you stand up and make your way out of whatever bar you've been dragged to as you bid your friends goodbye in a way that you hope doesn't raise any suspicions.

The air feels bitingly cold as the wind nips at your face while you stand awkwardly on the curb, waiting for a taxi as you go to both the first and last place you want to be at; your apartment. Ironically, in a cruel twist of fate, the total absence of anything relating to Satoru only makes his lack of presence only more pronounced.

If this was the universe's doing, then you had a few choice words for them to say the least.

You wrap your arms around yourself in a vain attempt to maintain some semblance of body heat as you quickly flag down the nearest car and clamber in. When you arrive back, you glance at the clock and you have to fight the urge to let out a laugh when you see that it's barely even past 10pm and you're already back at home.

Pathetic, the bitter voice in your head spits out.

You do what you do best and ignore it as you collapse into the embrace of your bed and try your bed to lull yourself to whatever empty dreamscape awaits you this time if only to get a moment away from your current reality. It doesn't last long though because you're awoken by the shrill ringing of your phone.

Should have silenced it, you curse yourself silently as you blindly reach for it. Once it's in your hands, you squint as the blinding brightness of the screen and a flicker of recognition flashes through you as you realise who's actually calling you and for some reason, against your better judgment, you pick up.

When you hang up, you don't go back to sleep. Rather, you're unable to go back to sleep as you're left staring blankly at the ceiling above you. The bed feels too big for one person and you find yourself missing the nights where you could go to sleep alone and wake up in the arms of another.

Much like when you're forced to watch a replay of all your memories, you're wondering if what you said was right. If you were to go by what you've been telling yourself since the breakup, then sure, you did the right thing. But if it is truly the right thing, then it doesn't explain this inexplicable emptiness gnawing deep within your chest or this aching feeling that sits in a place you can't quite reach but are all too aware of.

The longer you let your mind run through all the possibilities you can think of, the more often you find yourself coming back to the same conclusion. It's better this way, be damned, you think to yourself and with that, you make up your mind to set off on a mission.

Out of all of the places you could have found yourself at, this is definitely quite down low on the list and maybe this is what you deserve for trusting your feet instead of your head but you decide that at this point, you don't have much else to lose and so, you gather up the courage to say the words that you've been waiting to say for a while.

"Hi."

[masterstr0ke]

Hihi, i wanted to make a request (if it’s open) Your last aventurine and welt pieces were beautiful 🩷

Dr ratio hasn’t gotten the time to spend time with you lately and he works hard, but you are his supportive spouse so you bring him snacks and remind him to take breaks in between and kiss the cheek of his alabaster head as a treat (he has it on) before you do your own work. Now all he can think about is you for the rest of the day (perhaps he would have preferred it on his skin too)

If you don’t write for him that’s fine ^^

No need to rush, tyt! ☁️

YOU KNOW I’M SUCH A FOOL FOR YOU.

HUSBAND!RATIO x GN!READER

WARNINGS: annoyed Ratio, jealousy over an inanimate object (?), drowning in work. 2nd person POV (you/yours/yourself)

WORD COUNT: 494

AUTHOR NOTE: i know what you are👀

The day was slow at the Intelligentsia Guild, especially for the infamous Dr. Ratio.

Since the day began, all he has been doing is deal with insufferable morons with a worn-out shoe for a brain! Such imbeciles, Ratio believes time is precious, but unfortunately his students are dumb enough to waste it, even dumber to waste his time by asking how old he is or if he’s single or not.

Those fools don’t have to know that at-work Dr. Ratio is different than at-home Veritas, and can’t they figure out the question themselves by paying the slightest bit of attention to the silver band on his left hand’s ring finger? His attitude should’ve intimidated them enough for their minds to not go beyond the assumption that all he does at home is shower, eat work and sleep.. right? At least, that’s what he thinks.

However, he hasn’t been paying enough attention to the beautiful person sharing the other ring with him; the one he said his vows to. All he does when he goes back home is shower, eat, work and sleep. That’s it. He doesn’t even have time to glance your way, and that angers him.

He put on his alabastor head; His expression was too sour to welcome anyone who dares enter his office besides higher-ups. And just as he was about to start working in peace, a knock erupted at his office’s door, great. Ratio grumbled quietly. “Come in.” He spoke in an authoritative tone, expecting this to be a higher-up or an idiot student.

You open the door, a box in your hand, and a wide smile that rivals the sun in its shiny glory. “Veritas!” You call out as a greeting, before rushing to his desk. “I know you’re busy, so I’ll make this quick. You forgot your lunch at my office,” Oh, so that’s where his lunch went. You also worked at the Intelligentsia Guild, also being a teacher of high regard. Opposites attract, they say. All of your students love you, and you’re friends with everyone; An obvious contrast from your husband. You place the lunchbox on his desk with your left hand, the band on your ring finger glistening in the sunlight, the source being the window behind Veritas’ chair.

You then lean in and kiss the cheek of the alabastor head, then the lips. It wasn’t enough, since the head lacked the warmth of skin, but you were content. You give him a smile before you head out the door, just like that.

Ratio slowly took off the alabastor head, looking at it in disgust as if it owes him something. It does, it took away his lover’s kisses. As childish as it sounds, he’s been craving a kiss for a while. He supposes he has to wait until he goes back home, maybe he’ll get all the kisses he wants. In exchange of his work being put aside, even for a little while.

[sixfootrod]

someone asked, so I’ll reply.

I guess I just don’t see Price in the sweet, caring ‘daddy’ way a lot of this fandom tends to do. I see it in more of a realistic standpoint. I’ll pop down some headcanons here so you get the gist of it.

- Price probably doesn’t care as much as people think he does. He stops himself from forming attachments because he sees them as weakness.

- He can be kind hearted at times. Given he has a habit of sniffing bad people out, he can see when people are struggling to. He’ll offer to help the best he can.

- from my POV, relationships wouldn’t work for him. The amount of trauma and the amount of time he spends away from home most likely wouldn’t work for him and a partner. Plus, he shares his dad’s bad temper. Arguments usually end in him walking out.

- his libido wavers. Because of stress, the time he spends working, and his mental state — he’s probably never up to doing anything. Even if he is, it’s a measly one night stand after a night out at the bar. It’s then forgotten about and buried.

- he’s blunt, and straight to the point. No petnames or anything like you lot seem to think. Sometimes he’ll go for a ‘little miss’ or ‘son’ when it comes to young’uns, but that’s about it.

- doesn’t do favourites. Hates everyone equally.

- if he does like someone, it’s born out of respect more than anything. It goes for Soap, Ghost, Gaz and los vaqueros. They’ve all gained an insane amount of respect from price.

- leaves his grief and his problems at home. He’s built walls around himself over the years to protect himself and others from his wrath when the dam inevitably bursts. He has his bad days, but Lord, it all comes out in anger.

- most likely attends regular therapy for his PTSD and depression. By will. He’s attended since he joined.

- feels ridiculous talking about his childhood because it ‘wasn’t bad enough because so and so didn’t happen’.

- has the shortest temper. More likely to curse at inanimate objects. It’s kind of his way of venting out frustrations.

- he doesn’t go soft on anyone. Everybody gets the same treatment, whether they like it or not. And if you have a problem with him, then that’s your fault, not his. Wont change his mind at all.

per usual, inspired by the great and lovely @yeyinde

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[Spoilers below cut]

looks like I owe everyone 4 bucks and a can of rizz soda 😔

... *record scratch*

OH HEY NOW WAIT A SECOND! This is the first time in a while that we got an episode with "SMG4:" in the title! and having peach's castle in the thumbnail?!

what. are. they. up. to. 🤔

(the following is my live reaction:)

oooh, what shenanigans are we up to now? and in Mario POV no less

FOUR IN HIS WOTFI OUTFIT AAAAA my boy 💙🥹

A DATE?! SINCE WHEN.... oh....

4... hun, don't tell me you drew her last minute for a date (same Mario same)

he really did the whole "I'm bi (myself)", just like me frfr

can't believe he would betray dasani like this smh /j

ARTHUR JUMPSCARE?! omg my childhood's coming back to me "That sign can't stop me because I can't read"

oh 3, you're on a date too? AND a fake girlfriend? what a coincidence... 🤔

somehow, all those smg34 fics that had 3 hosting a dinner date in his cafe are technically canon now, at least for 3's character (or has the Team been reading our fics oh god)

we even get a megari date? /silly

"JUST YOU WAIT, I'LL FIGURE IT OUT SOMEDAY YOU'LL SEE" I say as I get dragged into a mental asylum

OOF MARIO damn, I know you feel down but no need to do Luigi like that

oh hey E.Gadd! it's been a while huh

our lord and savior jesus, is that you?

well that's one way, very sweet (...depending on how you interpret death in this universe ofc)

PEAK SIBLING BEHAVIOR HELL YEAH

shit, we should've asked E.Gadd how to reverse that thing

*chokes on my coffee* HUH?! pause this episode right NOW, because I need to leave my room for a sec

...ok ok. can we talk about this? we're talking about this. alright so, let's start off with the basics: the fact that these two separately have a date with their inanimate objects and at one point, they decided to have a double date outside of the Showgrounds? no doubt all of the smg34 enjoyers are going to freak out about this one, I can hear it

Before I say anything else, why don't we put our smg34-tinted glasses (you got them on? cool):

Just this frame alone, I'm going to dissect this bit by bit. Look at 3's fake date: aside from being out of bombs, she's got a messy ponytail (bangs swayed to the right), big eyes, and a big smile. You got that? Now look at 4. I'll give you a second to take that in. You're back? Ok, because we're not done yet. Onto 4's fake date drawn digitally, appearance-wise, she's got straight and neat pigtails with bangs swayed to the left, calm/relaxed face. NOW look at 3. Their inanimate dates somehow mirror the other and likely this is their way of hiding insecurities/internal struggles (that includes whatever happens when they're TOO close to each other). Just by them being defensive about their own date/judging the other man's taste. Honestly, very in-character for both of them, it's simply how they are. I mean look at them, they're not even eating or chatting or looking at their dates. Just each other.

We unfortunately have to take these glasses off for a reason. Is it just me or does this whole thing feel strange? Not in the usual show shenanigans or the fact that this happened to begin with type of way. It just feels strange.

Usually with smg34 moments, there's purpose to their relationship. Even in the "Forced to Hold Hands" episode, though it was clearly fanservice, it establishes their relationship well in the obstacle course scene. Sure, they disagree, fight, get on each other's throats on some things but when the moment is dire or their goals align, they make a good team and chemistry. Their relationship grew from rough patches, at times realizing they needed each other (IGBP). Though they tease and banter, they still care for each other deep down. ALSO it was good foreshadowing to WOTFI '23 their dynamic and Guardian powers, and 3's notebook.

Basically "they're content with their lives on their own (even if they never met to begin with), but it's hard to imagine not having the other in the picture". That's why I can't imagine them being stereotypical lovey-dovey if they ever became a couple. Sure, it's cute but it's not them. Honestly, nothing would change between them for the most part, and that's totally fine by me.

That's why I find this moment strange because it doesn't carry the same energy as it had before. Instead of this scene being smg34 crumbs, it's more like "glitter splat on my face and being mildly blinded by it with confusion". Hopefully that makes sense, maybe that's just me. But anyway, we gotta move on.

I'M GOING TO KILL YOU... AND THEN KILL YOU AGAIN (alfred always giving out the best of lines)

why do i hear boss music?

I know right, at least E.Gadd got it under control

I guess we can't say the word spaghet— AW SHIT THEY'RE RIGHT OUTSIDE MY HOUSE

STOP THEM WITH WHAT? OH C'MON

THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING

THE POWER OF THE 4TH WALL *waves at my laptop screen reflection*

oh wait hold up the animation style changed, 4's so bouncy *squishes him like playdoh*

*PV arc war flashbacks ensue* huh, what are we doing again? oh right Luigi

3 what on earth are you talking about?! You met the 4th wall a few times now

also 4's silly and yet somehow creepy face he has here. i need you to blink, buddy, for my sake.

...also why did 4's voice sound weird? (Luke, this better be normal for my theorist's sake)

...FUCK

I never imagine a lythero ref in SMG4 but here we are :)

good question, 3. i can't believe you're the sane one here in this episode, even if you also did the fake date thing.

huh... well that looks familiar *looks at you unpleased through the screen*

It's funny to think how we the viewer or at least the camera person is the same height as the star trio

Luigi: "I've been traumatized" you're so real for that Luigi

FOUR YOU DIDN'T SWITCH IT NOOOOO

4: "Dude, seriously?" let's just give him a moment

"Clone" and "More Clone"? close enough, welcome back "why did I make a self-destruct button?"

CAN I GET A DATE?

I was gonna say, which ones were the OG's? Now we know.

👏👏👏 WELL SAID

"if you're watching this, you must be clinically depressed" 😀

Congrats to Cookie for your art being featured at the end credits🎉 we love to see it 💙 and based on one of my favorite episodes too? hell yeah

(...wait Team, why did you choose this one? what does that imply? Team? TEAM?)

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Ok, I had a moment to think it over (and finish some biology).

I gotta say, this has been a pretty solid episode to see this Mario vs Wario dynamic. A rough start but I still enjoyed it. Hilarious moments and of course great animation (how many times have I not said that). A lot of the adorable faces made were by Shadow so applause to you bud for giving me this. And we got to see a more of Wiz' writing which is always a bonus, they have been going to a good streak so far! And I got to appreciate the Team putting 3 & 4 in their WOTFI suits, my absolute favorite matching outfits.

Now, come closer, can we talk about how strange this whole thing is?

The episode title is "SMG4:" now with no explanation by the Team after 56 episodes (44 episodes if we're only counting the main series) (also 44.... huh....) why now? Why this episode?

Change of thumbnail with one having Peach's Castle in the background, despite everyone knowing that it wasn't in the episode at all and is at the bottom of a monstrous pit (my moot managed to screenshot the YouTube glitch for me)

"Well, we can't exactly blame Ben. I'm sure it's whatever the Team wanted him to do for the thumbnail."

EXACTLY! The Team wanted him to add the Castle in just as it happened with the last episode's thumbnail with Mario. And we all know what Peach's Castle means.

(that boarded room again, curse that door)

4's Breaking the 4th Wall scenes (and 3 somehow not knowing what that is???)

(should we count 3 & 4's strange dates? maybe not)

Oh, and one more thing...

Chat, we might get goop!4 after all...

LET'S GOOOOOO🎉🎸🔥

Well, it turns out that the 3 & 4 scene really was glitter spat at my face just so it would distract us from what was REALLY going on, the Team is up to something. Hell, even my "for you" section was like "dude you have to focus on the mystery in hand" /silly

The hints we've gotten so far from the episodes and the Team, it has to be goop!4. And it all comes down to the Steam page, still waiting on that though.

We might have a "man on the inside"/failsafe route with 4 here, I've told you all it might. The Team is really testing us on this one, but we'll wait. Well, chat, I'll see you all in the next one, and remember: numbers go first!

*knowing smile :)*

...wait I still owe you all money and soda FUUUUU—

[sarahs-library]

Forgotten: Pretty Eyes

"You have such pretty eyes," Azriel's thumb dragged your lower lip down, his husky baritone stoked the fire of arousal coursing in your veins. "I can't wait to see you looking up at me, with my cock in your mouth."

A/N - Forgotten is giving me serious writer's block right now, so here's a little smutty snippet from the same universe before the story begins. You aren't together yet, the bond has snapped for Azriel but you remain blissfully unaware. Also I love the idea of meddling Nesta. This is also my first time publishing any smut, so hopefully it doesn't seem as cringey to you as it did to me re-reading it.

Word count: 4704

Warnings: Smut

Forgotten Part One ☪ Part Two ☪ Part Three

Your POV

Settled into the plush leather couch, you pulled the blanket up to your chin, creating a cozy nest for yourself. You balanced the book Nesta had given you on your lap, the worn cover a familiar weight against your skin. The floral sundress you wore fluttered around your legs, exposing the delicate skin of your knees, which you instinctively tucked beneath the warm embrace of the blanket. Once comfortable, you flipped open the hardcover to read the synopsis inlaid on the first page and snorted. Gratuitous smut, that much was predictable. But the story revolved around fated mates who couldn’t stay away from each other, despite every glaringly obvious reason to. Her recent recommendations had all centered on this theme, which you found puzzling. You couldn’t understand the Fae’s obsession with them, or Nesta’s for that matter.

Sure, you understood the religious aspect, most cultures had deities or worshipped magic in some form. Prythian’s Mother was no different in your eyes from the innumerable nameless gods you’d encountered in your travels over the years. But even so, the Fae's sanctification of basic biology was unique. You cleared your throat and looked up.

“Excuse me? House?” It felt strange, to address an inanimate object. You hadn’t quite believed Nesta when she first told you the House was sentient, a byproduct of her cauldron-made power. But it had seen to your needs enough over the last few months, often without prompting, that you’d found yourself creating a tentative relationship with it. “Do you have another book for me? Nesta’s been recommending so many of these, I’d rather read something different.” A moment later, a small pile of books dropped onto the table next to you. You thanked the House as you reached for the top book on the pile.

A God cursed to remain locked in his mountain hold until his soulmate frees him…You stopped reading with a frown, setting the book aside with the other before taking the next one. And then the next. You reached the end of the pile, all books about soulmates or fated mates or love pairs. Maybe the House had misunderstood you. You gathered the books up again, this time placing the one Nesta had lent you at the top of the pile and addressed the House again.

“Sorry, I meant do you have anything different than a romance? Maybe something with a bit of action and adventure?” The pile didn’t vanish, no other books appeared either. You waited for a few seconds. “House?” You knew it was close with Nesta, perhaps you’d offended it by inadvertently insulting her reading tastes.

You considered getting up from the comfy nest you’d created in the sitting room to go to the library and pick something off the shelves yourself. You eyed the book at the top of the pile again and sighed. Grabbing it you cracked open to the first page. Only then did the pile vanish, you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. In its place stood a glass filled with fruity, fizzing pink wine from the Summer Court. It knew that you preferred it to the heartier reds more commonly found in the Night Court. You thanked the House and took a sip from the wine glass before turning your attention to the book propped open against your knees.

A dull pain in your neck drew you from sleep. Your dry eyes adjusted to the low lighting as you began to sit up. You groaned and massaged the sore muscles in your neck and shoulder, cursing yourself for falling asleep in such an awkward position. The book, still open at the last page you were reading, slipped from your lap and hit the floor with a dull thud. Fae light housed in a dark glass shade flickered to life on the table next to your empty wine glass. Freeing the blanket from where it was tangled between your legs, you bent to retrieve the book from the floor. The hand you reached out stopped shy of the cover, the tips of your fingers brushing against the shadows that teeming it, burrowing under the pages.  

They didn’t shy away from your touch. Instead, they pushed the book across the floor into your open hand. You grasped at the leather-bound spine, cool shadows curling between your fingers and sliding up the back of your hand.

“Thank you.” You inclined your head and righted yourself on the sofa, expecting them to disperse in search of their master.

“Don’t tell me you’ve joined Nesta’s smutty book club too.” Reflectively you gripped the book tighter as the voice came from behind you. After months of living together at the House, you were beginning to be able to decipher Azriel’s moods. Smooth, dark, and low his tone of voice rarely gave away what he was feeling. But the slight elongation of some vowels and the emphasis on the word smutty told you he was amused. A delicate flush rose on your cheeks, and you resolved not to look at him.         

“I mostly go for the wine. But Nesta said this was one of her favourites, though I’m not sure why.” The shadows that had helped you retrieve the book began to climb up over the edge of the sofa, to investigate further as you held it in your lap. You could feel him inching closer behind you, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Satisfied with their investigation, or at whatever silent command Azriel gave them, the shadows began to return to his side. You were unsure of how cognizant they were. As one of them brushed against the soft skin of your thigh, exposed from where your dress had ridden up, you wondered if it was intentional. You were glad to not see his face. Not while his shadows snitched to him about the colour dusting your cheeks and the very long, very explicit description of the mating frenzy between the main characters you’d been reading before you fell asleep.

“Too tame for you, sweetheart?” You’d been playing this game for weeks now. Glances that lingered a hair too long to be appropriate. Comments that bordered on suggestive but still gave plausible deniability. Any excuse to touch, to feel the other’s skin as you passed a dish at family dinner or assisted Azriel with demonstrations for the priestesses.

And you hated it, the effect he had on you. You knew, somewhere deep inside in a place you didn’t want to acknowledge, that he was part of the reason you’d taken advantage of Rhys’ hospitality. Why you hadn’t been itching to leave, to find another place after you landed unceremoniously, bleeding and half-conscious, in the Night Court all those months ago.

You sighed. “No, it’s not that.” Azriel was standing directly behind you now. When you took your next breath his scent, night-chilled mist and cedar, filled your nose. “I know she and Cassian are disgustingly in love, but I’d prefer her to give me at least one recommendation that doesn’t revolve and two people finding out they are mates, and then fucking for the next 100 pages.”

Azriel made a low, humming sound. Not in agreement, but in consideration of what you said. You thought he was going to speak, grace you with a sarcastic remark. Instead, he leaned over the back of the sofa. His face was so perilously close to your neck that you could feel the hot breath he exhaled, as he plucked the open book from your lap. He retreated as quickly as he’d come; you instinctively turned, reaching one hand up to stabilise yourself against the plush leather.

His hazel eyes met yours, and the triumphant smirk he gave you ignited both irritation and something primal. Held aloft in one hand, he lifted the book to his eyeline as the shadows flicked swiftly through the pages. Landing on the passage he wanted, he began to read aloud.           

“His manhood was hot and hard and thick with lust. He pounded into her rough and ready, their gasps puffing in the air, steam rising off their skin.” Your cheeks flushed deeper. You hauled yourself up the back of the sofa, resting on your knees, attempting to use the leverage to lessen the advantage his greater height gave him. Reaching out, you tried to snatch the book from his grasp only for him to move it away just as your fingers brushed against the cover. He took a half-step back, still within arm’s length but not close enough for you to reach without losing your balance.

Azriel arched a brow, eyes alight with thinly veiled amusement as he took in your flushed face. You noticed the way they strayed, just for a moment, following the path of your exposed neck down towards your chest. A traitorous part of you preened under the attention of his gaze. Instinct prompted you to press the advantage he’d unwittingly given you, using the moment of his distraction to vault over the back of the sofa and close the distance between you. Azriel’s wings flared behind him, but he didn’t retreat from the sudden proximity, even as your hand reached up to grasp the book over his own.

Dragging his eyes away from you, he feigned nonchalance as he continued to skim the pages of the book. You realised your mistake then, calf muscles straining to keep your weight steady as you stood frozen on arched feet. His eyes didn’t leave the page even as his other hand came up to rest on your hip. The fabric of your dress felt dangerously thin as the warmth from his palm and slightly splayed fingers seeped through. Thin enough to feel the callouses on the finger that skimmed tantalisingly close to the edge of your underwear.

“The male says such filthy things.” He allowed you to pull the book down but didn’t relinquish his grip. Hazel eyes met yours, darkened even in the fae light. Slowly lowering your weight back onto the balls of your feet, you held his gaze. You were acutely aware of how little space was left between the two of you. Cool shadows brushed against the bare skin of your legs, catching on the hem of your dress and skirting at your waist. The breath you inhaled, made ragged by the proximity, filled your lungs with Azriel’s scent. Lust fogged your thoughts, quietening the voice in your mind that warned you of the precipice you teetered on. Even through the haze, you recognised there would be no going back, not once you acted on this.

“Do you like it when your lovers speak to you like this, sweetheart?” His voice, guttural and slow, seemed to speak directly to the embers now burning within you. He edged closer, enough that the fabric of your dress brushed against the scaled leather on his chest. You backed away, even as you felt your body react, but kept your eyes trained on Azriel’s face. His shadows returned to him, agitating a breeze that carried the unmistakable scent of your arousal. Azriel inhaled deeply, savouring it like a man half-drowned. His gaze became predatory as he prowled closer to you.

You felt the brush of cool leather against the heated skin of your back and the curve of your buttocks. He stepped closer, muscular arms brushing your waist on either side as he rested his hands on the sofa, caging you in. You held his gaze, even as he lowered his face close enough that your breath mingled. You tried to grasp at something, formulate a scathing remark that would disseminate the tension, that would allow you to step out of this room with your friendship still intact. All you could focus on was how easy it would be to reach up, tangle your fingers into Azriel’s hair, and bring his face down to close the distance between your lips. The corner of his mouth quirked up into a smirk and he feigned closing the distance, tilting his head before passing over your mouth and whispering in your ear.  

“You haven’t answered my question.” His breath danced over the shell of your ear, and you fought against the urge to arch your back and press yourself into his chest. His lips ghosted over the skin of your neck as he traced the curve down to where it met your collarbone.

“My preferences regarding lovers are of no concern to you.” He stilled against you.

“Is that so?” The words caressed your skin, drawled and meant to provoke as he made the return journey back towards your lips. You managed a breathy affirmation, even as he trailed fire in his wake. The barest of touches, feeding your desire for more of them, more of him. You didn’t notice the hand until his palm slid up to rest on the side of your neck, gripping your jaw between scarred fingers and thumb. His grip was firm as he pulled back to look at you.  

“Such lies from such a sweet, little mouth.” His thumb stroked a path up, sweeping across your plump lower lip. You parted them on instinct. Lust-darkened eyes met your own, and a moment of clarity passed between you both. One that spoke of more than just base needs or primal instincts. Hiding in his eyes was a promise of more. Something that neither of you were ready to address just yet.

"You have such pretty eyes," Azriel's thumb dragged your lower lip down, his husky baritone stoked the fire of arousal coursing in your veins. "I can't wait to see you looking up at me, with my cock in your mouth." His other hand moved to your hip as he trailed his thumb down, palm splayed as he traced your jaw; your neck to where the cut of your dress lay at the valley between your breasts. He toyed with the edge before moving his hand to trace down your other side, thumb brushing the underside of the swell of flesh you desperately wanted him to pay more attention to.

His grip tightened for a moment at your waist before he hoisted you into the air. You gasped in surprise at the sudden movement before he perched you precariously on the edge of the back of the sofa. The increased height made your face almost level with his, something that Azriel took full advantage of as he captured your lips with his own. Your hands moved to steady yourself on his broad shoulders, fingernails digging into the leather as you swept your tongue against his bottom lip. You opened your thighs in invitation, Azriel stepped closer so that your chest was flush with his. His hips settled between your legs; your thighs clenched on either side as he deepened the kiss. His skilled tongue stroked against your own as you moaned, breathing heavily through your nose.

His fingers tangled into your hair, pulling it aside as his other hand moved down from your waist to trace a path under your dress against the smooth skin of your inner thigh. His mouth left yours, moving to capture the soft skin of your neck, lathing his tongue against it in between delicate bites as his fingers slid higher on your thigh. You rolled your hips, trying to coax him as his fingertips grazed lace. You slid your hands over his shoulders, finding purchase as you pulled him closer. You felt him smile against your neck as he trailed kisses lower, freeing his hand from your hair, as he pulled the delicate fabric of your dress down roughly to expose your chest. You barely registered the sound of it tearing as one hand came up to clasp your breast, thumb running over the peaked nipple as he bent further to capture the other between his lips.

You groaned as he continued to nip and suckle and bite at the pert bud, hazel eyes observed your through dark lashes as you arched into him, bringing one hand up to tangle into his dark locks. He groaned against your skin as you pulled at it, moaning his name in between panted breaths.

“Fuck, Az. Please…” he sucked hard on the nipple caught between his lips, releasing it with an obscene pop and a parting flick of his tongue against the tip.

“Please what, sweetheart?” His mouth moved to capture the nipple under the ministrations of his thumb, the callouses rubbing deliciously against the sensitive skin. Words died on the tip of your tongue as the fingers dancing beneath your skirt finally brushed against sodden fabric, rubbing against the slick folds of your pussy. He grunted in approval as he continued to probe, pushing a finger into your aching hole as much as the lace would allow. You moved your hand from his shoulder, taking advantage of his bent position to trace two knuckles against the dark membrane of a wing.

Azriel’s growl was feral as he bucked his hips. His mouth left your breast to kiss up your neck, teeth scratching against the pulse thrumming at your jugular.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a wicked, wicked tease?” His lips once again met your own in a rough, opened-mouthed kiss. You purposely dragged your knuckles back over his wing, it flared out under your touch as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth. You pulled back, your lip catching before he released you. He stared at you, panting and pupils blown wide. You smirked as you put your hand back on his shoulder, resolving to explore the sensitive expanse of his wings further another time. You trailed your fingers down, feeling the hard expanse of muscles on his chest and abdomen before settling on the strings of his leather breeches.   

“I may have heard something like that before.” You pulled at the knot, struggling to undo it with just one hand. Azriel’s hand left your breast, placing it over your own to still the movements. You furrowed your brow, questioning him with a gaze as he made no move to help.

“There’s something I need to do first.” He stepped back, moving out of your reach as you planted your hands on either side of the sofa to steady yourself. His wings flared for balance as he slowly lowered himself to one knee, then the other, maintaining eye contact with you as his hands slid under your dress. Tracing up to your hips he caught hold of the lace of your panties, slowly pulling them over your thighs and past your knees to drop over your bare feet onto the floor. His eyes never left yours as he rucked the thin skirt up to your waist, leaving you panting and exposed under his gaze. His eyes trailed down slowly as if committing the sight of you to memory, taking special note of the flush on your neck and chest, littered with a constellation of bruises he had sucked onto your skin. Lower still, until his gaze came to rest between your legs, fixated on the way your cunt glistened in the fae light.

“I can’t tell you how often I’ve dreamed of this.” He ran the back of his hand down the side of your thigh as you opened your legs wider for him to nestle his shoulders between your knees. “Of how you taste, what you’d look like underneath me, the sounds you’d make when you cum for me.” He made sure to catch your gaze again as he lowered his mouth towards your slick folds. The hand that wasn't tracing your thigh moved to part your lips as his tongue delves between them. He moaned against you at that first taste. Dragging his tongue in a long sensual stroke up, barely brushing the edge of your clit before returning to tease at your entrance. Biting your lip your hands found his hair, wrenching him closer as you slid your knees over his shoulders. He cupped your arse, rough fingers digging into supple flesh as he fucked you with his tongue. Languid strokes that brushed his nose against your clit every time he pushed in deeper.

You moaned, grinding against his face, the hand not tangled in his hair circled at your nipple still coated in his saliva. His tongue slid up through the wetness to toy with your clit, circling dangerously around the edges before he caught it between his lips, suckling on it hard. You cried out his name at the delicious pressure, bordering on pain, his eyes watching you through dark lashes as you writhe and grind against him. He releases your clit, pulling back after a small gentle parting lick.

“Look at you.” His thumb moves up to trace your clit. He looked debauched, lips swollen and pink, chin soaked with your pleasure. “Such a pretty little cunt.” His thumb slides down through your wetness as he teases it through your puffy folds. “So wet for me, just begging to be fucked.” You felt your pussy clench as he traced past the hole, dipping further down in between your cheeks to toy with the wetness around the puckered ring of muscle there. He returned torturously slowly to where you needed him most, before plunging one finger deep inside of you. You moaned at the intrusion as he curled his finger up, rubbing purposely against the sensitive wall before pulling out. He added another finger to the first, inserting them at the same glacial pace, finally looking away from your face as he watched your walls stretch to accommodate his thick fingers. It wasn’t enough, you needed more of him.

“Please,” you begged, tugging at his hair. “Please Az, I need more. I need…” You trailed off as another finger slid into your tight hole, the pace still slow as he watched you grind your hips against his hand, trying to fuck his fingers deeper and faster into you.

“Whatever my beautiful-“He stopped himself, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard, eyes on your face again. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.” And with that promise, he lowered his mouth to your cunt again. The speed of his fingers increased, fucking into you with abandon as he caught your clit between his lips once more, licking and sucking, dragging his teeth gently over the sensitive nerves. He skilfully brought you to the precipice of your release, alternating between curling his fingers and lathing his tongue against your clit before slowing down. You keened, undulating your hips against his face and hand. Shadows bled out the sofa, fixing your hips down as he continued to tease.

“I need to see you cum for me.” He growled against you before pressing himself deeper into your folds. Your legs shook as his fingers fucked you harder, as his mouth latched onto your clit with a hard suck. His hazel eyes were fixed on your face, watching as you climbed towards your peak. Your grip tightened on his hair as your release built. Until finally, it snapped. Sending you careening toward the most exquisite bliss you had experienced in your immortal life.

“Azriel! Oh Gods…” Your legs shifted on his shoulders as your muscles clenched under your release, trapping his head between your thighs. He continued to lick and suck you gently as you came down from your pleasure, fingers moving at a more leisurely pace now as he watched you, eyes filled with lust and awe. You relaxed slowly under his ministrations, enough to begin to bring you towards pleasure again despite how oversensitive your nerves felt. You unhooked your legs from his shoulders as you moved your hands towards them, pulling as his leathers. He released you from his mouth, pulling his fingers out and admiring the wetness left on his hand rolling down towards his wrist. He rose, allowing you to capture his face between your hands in a searing kiss. You groaned at the taste of it, both of you mingled together on the tongue he stroked slowly against yours.

Moving your hands down you broke the kiss, nestling into his neck and tracing the dark marks of his tattoos with your tongue. Under both your hands the knot holding his leathers closed came away easily. You pushed your fingers under the tight band, grazing the head of his cock with your thumb. Azriel panted into your shoulder, his grip on your waist tight as you continued to tease the head, rubbing circles slick with pre-cum into the sensitive skin.

Azriel became rigid under your touch. You pulled away from his neck, from marking him with bruises similar to the ones on your own, to look at his face. A dark tendril curled around his ear, whispering to the shadowsinger. His face darkened and he let out a vicious curse, pulling away from you and turning his attention towards the foyer.

You could hear footsteps now, heading in your direction. Azriel was a picture, rock hard against his leathers, hair a mess from where you’d carted your fingers through it, full lips swollen and red. You looked down at yourself, bare breasts peeking through the ripped fabric of your dress, skirt rucked up still baring your cunt to the room.

“Y/N! I know you’re here. You’re keeping us all waiting.” Nesta was in the hallway now, heading towards the only way in or out of the sitting room. You slipped off the back of the sofa, righting your dress and trying to pull the ripped fabric of the bodice closed with little success. Azriel’s eyes had turned calculating, all trace of lingering lust gone as he ran through possible ways to get you both out of this situation. If you were anywhere else, he could have winnowed you away. You cursed whichever of Rhys predecessors put such stringent security measures on the House to a painful eternity in Hel.

Shadows moved to open the large windows next to the fireplace to let in a breeze, biting cold and pushed through the room as Azriel’s siphons glowed. A fire started to burn, smoking more than normal, its acrid smell filling your nose. Azriel gestured to the sofa, the blanket still coiled on the seats.

“Get under.” You moved quickly, throwing yourself down as you used the blanket to cover up your ruined dress and bruises. Azriel strode toward the window, taking one glance back as you tried to settle yourself before he slipped out into the sky and the fading light. You rested your head against the cool arm of the leather, bringing your legs under the blanket as you feigned sleep.

Nesta’s footsteps stopped at the threshold of the open door.

“Y/N.”

You let out a low groan, stretching as you pretended to drag yourself from sleep. You rose so only your face was visible over the back of the sofa, blanket clutched to your chest as you took in Nesta standing in the doorway. Her silver eyes scanned your face as her nose wrinkled at the smell of the poorly burning fire.

“You’re late.” Silver burned in the eyes she fixed on you, angered at the perceived social slight.

“I’m sorry, I was reading. Must have fallen asleep.” Your heart pounded as she assessed you. You hoped she’d put it down to the shock of being rudely woken rather than your anxiety at being almost caught.

“Everyone’s waiting in the library, let’s go.” You nodded in agreement, mind whirring as you tried to figure out a way out of the room, out of your ruined clothes with the reek of arousal still clinging to your skin, without raising any suspicions.

“I’ll um, meet you there. I just want to quickly freshen up and grab the book from my room.” Nesta’s eyes scanned you, before inclining her head and turning to leave.

“Five minutes,” she ordered as she left, “or we’ll start without you.” You collapsed back into the sofa, relief flooding your veins as you tried to calm your breathing. You hadn’t noticed the way her eyes had fixed on the dark lace half-hidden underneath the sofa before she left.

Thank you for reading, to everyone who asked to be added to the tag-list I think I've included everyone I can but some blogs I couldn't tag so apologies if that's yours.

Tag list: @kalulakunundrum @impossibelle @we-were-beautiful @going-through-shit @mulansaucey @sv0430 @naturakaashi @amygdtjhddzvb @airstrip-0 @acourtofsmutandstarlight @myheartfollower @whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @valencia-rou @amysangel @furiousbooklover @phoenixgurl030 @imnotsiriusyouare @i-am-infinite @cat-or-kitten @marvelouslovely-barnes @gretavanbobatea @tothestarsandwhateverend @furiousbooklover @esposadomd @meritxellao @kemillyfreitas @juneangel21 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @luvmoo @originalcrusadetrash @mandowhatnow @bangtanbecks @bookslut420 @goldenmagnolias @inkedaztec @opheliaas-stuff @spongehappy @oingo233 @unstablefemme @minicoffee00 @brujitafantomatico @thelov3lybookworm @naturakaashi @nyenye @fandomarchiveilyd @sunnysideup000 @bunnyredgirl @bloodicka @cirwin2013 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @magicstrengthandcourage @justdreamstars @hanatsuki-hime @tsumudoll @jasontoddorjasongrace @saltedcoffeescotch @queerqueenlynn @kodokunarisu-blog @4ambagelbites @byyalady @feyres-fireheart @moonslitluna

[poledancingdinos]

You're My Person

Pairing: Captain Syverson X OFC (1st person POV)

Word Count: 1139

Warnings: Domestic Fluff

Taglist: @summersong69 @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha ​ @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @elizabetharegina @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @rosecentury @shellyshellshell @winter2112rose @secretdream2 @toooldforobsessions @wa-ni @valacircareads @missemrose @liecastillo @identity2212

Masterlist

“Ow! Motherfucker!” I rubbed my head where I’d hit it on the kitchen cabinets. Yes, I hit my forehead on the eye-level kitchen cabinets. No, it unfortunately wasn’t the first time. Yes, I did foresee it happening again. 

The washing machine buzzed, giving me an excuse to escape the kitchen and leave behind the sink full of dirty dishes. If I didn’t immediately hang the laundry on the line, I would definitely forget to do it until the next time I tried to start a load and found the washer full of moldy clothing.

When I came back in, nearly tripping over Aika who darted outside right as I opened the door, I found Sy leaning with one shoulder on the kitchen archway. Instinctively, I checked his feet to make sure he wasn’t leaving dirty footprints on the freshly mopped floors.

“Hey, did you want me to get you something before I start the dishes?”

It wasn’t unusual for him to ask me to get him a drink when he came in with grease-covered hands. Having a mini-fridge—or even a second full-sized fridge—in the garage might be something to consider in the future. The extra freezer space would not go to waste with Sy’s appetite resembling that of a starved animal.

“Actually, I need ya to come downstairs with me.”

Confused, I set the empty basket on the table and followed without protest. I was expecting him to show me some new problem that would need to be fixed in the bathroom we were renovating, but instead he caught hold of my wrist and led me the opposite way towards our lounge area.

Sy pointed at a spot in the corner of the sectional couch where all my fluffy blankets were waiting.

“Sit.”

He waited until I obeyed before pointing to a steaming mug of hot chocolate that I hadn’t noticed was waiting for me on the table.

“Drink.”

Finally, he handed over the TV remote.

“Watch. No more work, no more chores, I don’t want ya back upstairs until you’re singin’ about pineapples and not tellin’ the truth.”

“Pineapples aren’t in the theme song,” I corrected without thinking, taking the remote.

“Blueberries then.”

“Those aren’t in the song either.”

To his credit, Sy fixed me with a sharp look but kept the annoyance out of his tone. “You’re doin’ it again.”

I was. I’d been picking fights over the most insignificant things all day—sometimes even with inanimate objects. In my defense though, carefully clearing the jammed paper didn’t keep the printer from eating more pages but threatening to throw it off the roof sure as hell seemed to finally make it run smoothly.

With a sigh, I let my head drop on the back of the couch. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Thank you for all this. You can go back to what you were doing.”

Making myself comfortable with one blanket around my shoulders and another over my lap—a necessity even at the height of summer since the whole house was on Sy temperature—I picked up the hot chocolate from the table. I gently blew on the hot milk before taking a small sip. Sy had made it just how I like it with lots of cocoa, sugar and a tiny pinch of salt instead of the pre-made mix. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked when I noticed Sy hadn’t moved. He stood in the same spot, arms crossed over his chest and frowning at the ground.

“Nothin’,” Sy scratched his scruffy cheek before putting his hands in his pockets, “I’m just realizin’ I have no clue what your favorite show is even about.”

Sy wasn’t really the binge-watching type. Actually, he wasn’t really the watching type period. Occasionally he would hear about a new show or movie that he specifically wanted to watch but other than that he normally did his own thing when I watched my shows. That was why we had our main living room upstairs and a movie area downstairs.

“I’ve explained it before, haven’t I?” I took another sip of my hot chocolate, humming in satisfaction.

“Sort of,” he shrugged. “You said it was a guy pretendin’ to be a psychic but I never understood why the boxset had a pineapple on it.”

“The lead actor ad-libbed a line with a random prop pineapple in the pilot and the showrunners ran with it. The blueberry is from a line in the second season and it refers to their little blue hatchback.”

There were numerous magnets on the fridge with silly quotes from the show or fanart which was how Sy knew about the fruity references but not the actual plot of the show. I also had a habit of humming the theme song around the house when I was feeling particularly perky.

“Huh.” There was another moment of silence before Sy seemed to shake off whatever thoughts were going through his head. “You need me to put a DVD in for ya?”

“No, I think I’ll stream it while it’s available. That way I don’t need to get out of my blanket burrito to change seasons.”

With a nod, Sy kissed the top of my head and left me to pick out an episode. I didn’t really know which one to watch so I found a number generator on my phone and had it pick one for me. I wasn’t currently doing a rewatch so there was no reason to follow any particular order.

To my surprise, Sy returned with snacks and a beer right as I prepared to press play. He had swapped out of his work clothes for a pair of grey sweats and an old army shirt.

“I thought you had stuff you wanted to finish in the garage?”

He dropped by my side with a groan. “Changin’ the breaks can wait until next weekend. I’ll sit with you for the evenin’ and take care of the rest of the chores tomorrow.”

“What about supper?”

“Food will be here in an hour.” One large arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “Now, what do I gotta know before we start?”

Nervous energy passed through me and I had to actively try to contain my excitement.

“There’s nothing specific to know for this episode but in general? We never skip the opening or ending credits, I will sing them every time and if you see the hidden pineapple you have to point it out.”

That seemed to pique Sy’s interest. If anything, it would give him something to focus on if he got bored halfway through which I really hoped wouldn’t happen. He set a bowl of popcorn on his lap and nodded for me to start the episode. Smiling to myself, I sank deeper into his side and leaned my head on Sy’s shoulder.

I was feeling better already.

[lilacs-stash]

He just wanna slow dance with them

[five-rivers]

Monchrome Maniacal poll 1

This poll is for my experimental audience participation fic. You can find the masterpost here.

If you do not see your suggestion here, it may be for one of the following reasons:

It was too similar to another suggestion

It was submitted after the slots were full

It was something already true in the fic (it's already a no one knows au)

Additionally, your prompt might have been edited to make it fit the character limit. Please try to keep your prompts under 80 characters; it makes it a lot easier for me!

Credits under the cut.

Tumblr: @everfascinated, @jackdaw-sprite, @mirrimblackfox, @trinoxtrinox, @scaehime, @axion-labs, @phangirl20, @heartfy

AO3: GooseQueen26, themagicmuffin, TheReader_TheWriter, Aspookylittleguy

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Twins !!: Chapter 1

Fandom: Sonic (MOVIE)

Pairings: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone; Stobotnik

Warnings (For chapter 1): not fully beta-read, I used military times

Summary: Guard dog? Only one? How about two?

OR

Both Robotnik and Stone are protective/unhinged and you better hope none of them let go of that leash.

(Gonna put both POVs here' Also, giving thanks to Good coffee, Great coffee for teaching me how to make coffee digitally so I know how to describe Stone making lattes; thank you @bluerings for being supportive to the point of terrifying, thank you to everyone else that commented, reblogged and liked the post as well)

****

Doctor Ivo Robotnik, a god taken human form. A never dying machine running on nothing but pure energy and fear from the weak. He produced, delivered, created and killed, walking pass those who are considered below him with a menacing grin. Even the toughest soldiers will fall by his hands, and that meant Stone was one of them.

Even when standing among morons and commoners, he shone and beamed like no other. A beacon of hope to those who dare to approach or to those who could see it. A living and walking message of something greater than life itself.

Stone considered him the center of his life, the sun of his solar system and the heart of his being. Robotnik gave him a purpose, an unending list of tasks to complete, whether difficult or not, and Stone would be damned if he didn’t follow every order to a T. Stone was willing to kill for him, to bleed dry for him and witness Robotnik drink up his blood after he was gone for. Stone would thank him for it

A loyal dog, a devoting worshipper, a willing test subject, a hopeless believer. If given the opportunity, Stone would wear those titles with pride. No shame, no embarrassment, no doubt in his mind about his position beside the genius.

He’s an agent with sufficient skill, with more than two brain cells rubbing against each other to produce enough electricity. A praise he so gratefully accepted from Robotnik. Being able to even exist at the same time as Robotnik was an honor in itself. To be able to serve by the man was a blessing granted from the heavens.

To witness infinite waves of magnificence, of blinding greatness and breath-taking beauty. To be in such a close vicinity was like being purify from the inside out. But in order to be sanctified, he needed witnesses.

Unfortunately, in this world, there’s no such things.

None of his colleagues saw that. No commanders, generals or sergeants could see the good Robotnik had contributed to their system. What he had accomplished would take an average genius over a decade to achieve.

No one was grateful, everyone was judgmental. Hypocrites. Two side of a coin, they say, but no one but Stone flipped to the heads to gaze at the carvings.

Though, Stone should always remember: like any existing gods and goddesses, the doctor had his bad days.

In the past, the people say that natural disasters such as volcano eruptions and typhoons were all the dangerous results of a god or goddess’s anger, displaying their wrath in a more comprehensible form for mortal eyes. All of them had caused death, inconvenience and harm to all living things and inanimate objects.

At least, even when Robotnik is angry, he knows how to control it mannerly.  

One in particular was when he came back fuming and sprouting insults in five different languages while Stone stared and watched in silent, hands still filled with a few reports. A few badniks floated by his side, scanning his and Robotnik’s current health status, coming back with much expected results. A mini-nik was tossed on the table rather violently, but the doctor seemed to have the intention of fixing it later.

“Bad day, Doctor?” Stone asked politely, placing down the mug of coffee he had made a minute before Robotnik’s inevitable return.

“’Bad’ is an understatement, Agent.” Robotnik replied, one hand drummed the surface of his desk harshly but he still reached out with a free hand and gently took the cup from Stone. Their fingers brushed briefly. Stone would usually be hurt by the fact that Robotnik would call him ‘Agent’ from time to time, but it wasn’t uncommon that he would also use that when he’s mad.

Stone stepped up to stand beside him, hands clasped behind his back as he watched his beloved doctor rant and talk about his day, throwing out insults that wasn’t directed at him, more often than not slamming his fists on the table. Throughout it all, Stone dutifully listened, adding comments and providing fun little back talks for the doctor’s amusement.

It seemed to work slightly as he calmed down after every sentence that came out of the agent’s mouth, slowly relaxing in his chair. His fingers flying over the holographic keyboard with more ease than before, eyes more focus and the haze of wrath slowly dissipating.

Then, out of nowhere, an unwanted thought resurfaced in Stone’s mind. One that he had been trying to suppress these last few days.

I wonder how the doctor would look in a collar…

Stone mentally shook his head to try and clear the vivid imagery of royal purple against pale skin, of gleaming silver in the soft blue lights of the lab. A click of the clasp, a hard pull of a leash.

His mind shouldn’t be diving into lakes with a red sign in the front.

This didn’t go unnoticed by the genius still beside him. Robotnik sighed loudly, frustration clear in his tone and posture. Stone cursed himself for accidently spiking his heart beat.

“I can’t work when your thoughts are whispering near my ear, Stone.” Robotnik turned over to the agent, his legs crossed and eyes bored holes into his agent’s soul. His gaze was unwavering, making Stone more nervous than he already was.

Whenever Robotnik claim to be able to hear Stone’s thoughts, the agent swore he would just die on the spot. Stone knew he was no mind reader nor was he psychic, the doctor didn’t believe in such things, but Stone be damned if he hasn’t found a way to scientifically enter someone’s personal mind space yet.

“I don’t have all day, Stone. Spit it out.” The doctor urged, one hand coming up to rest on his cheek, finger tapping his cheekbone impatiently.

Swallowing visibly and holding back the urge to make a joke, Stone looked over to his superior who was still waiting for an answer. Either he gets send home early or gets fired. Stone would prefer the former as he would have space to wallow in self-pity and shame.

“I was wondering- “

“Hurry up.”

Stone sighed, shoulders visibly tensed. “I was wondering how you would look in a collar, Doctor.” He tried to make it quick, but the shame was still there. Some his words got caught behind his teeth, making it sound slurred when it left his lips. No way to professionally worm his way out now. He dug his grave when he even thought about it, now he’ll have to lie in it after revealing it to the man who was considered god in his eyes.

Robotnik stared at Stone as if he was crazy, eyes widening ever so slightly. The cogs in his brain suddenly forced to work over time to dissect each and every word Stone had just said. His eyes drifted off to somewhere far way, finger stopped tapping on his cheekbone but started to press into the soft flesh there.

Stone swore he was going to hyperventilate.

He needed to even his breath out if he didn’t want to dart out the room like a scared animal.

Breath in, breath out.

It’s okay if he fires you. It’s okay if he doesn’t want to see you again.

You’re replaceable. You’re disposable. You’re not worth—

“Fine. If this is a little experiment of yours, I’ll indulge.” Robotnik finally spoke up, breaking the tense silence between both of them. Waving a hand to dismiss Stone, Robotnik pulled himself back towards his desk and started to work again as if nothing happened.

Stone stood there, stunned, staring at the back of his superior’s head.

Did he… agreed to it? Willingly without question?

Before the flabbergasted agent could say anything else, Robotnik was back to staring daggers into his soul, hands absently typing up a line of codes on his keyboard. With a quick jolt and a nod, Stone scurried back to his desk with an unbearable giddiness inside his chest.

Stone knew how gods and goddess work. They don’t just stand down for anybody, much less a mortal that they created. To think about chaining a god or goddess back is to be wishing for a painfully slow death. Only a few ever got the mercy of being dismissed.

Stone couldn’t let go of such an opportunity.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Robotnik sent him home early for the day, claiming that he had other important stuff to tend to and did not feel like babysitting him. The agent made no comment about his clear schedule. Stone gathered his stuff, told his boss to have a good night before silently walking out to the parking lot. He was sure every place was rigged with a camera or two.

Securing his things onto his bike, Stone circled around the two wheeled vehicle like a snake to its prey, hands held behind his back to make sure no one was pulling tricks on him. Whether it was tying several things to the back of his bike or flat tiring his ride, Stone was having none of it.

After a three-minute check, the agent hopped on – completely ditching the helmet – and took a shortcut back to his apartment. The last thing he needed was a ticket.

The ride back was uneventful, nothing he liked to mention in particular. A tenant in his apartment complex just moved out because, according to rumors, she got married. In remains of that, she left a bright yellow envelope in his mail slot that contained some information about her marriage, mostly likely asking him to come. Several others on his floor also received the same thing, claiming she was just being nice despite not knowing a lot of people well enough. Stone sighed and left it at the front door, not bothering to even give her a proper reply.

She was a nice lady, really. He liked her because she would pipe down when asked, would lend a hand when requested. She wouldn’t ask about his job even though she was curious. She was one of the many reason Stone wondered why he moved out of that government issued condo.

Placing all his stuff down on one side of the couch, not bothering to even organize anything. He darted straight for the bathroom, changing and preparing for bed early. Usually, by this hour, Stone would still be sitting in his living room, sorting out leftover emails for the doctor and checking on his digital calendar, erasing any delayed meetings or ones that Robotnik preferred not to attend. But he was tired, exhausted, and so unbearably restless that doing work wouldn’t sate the feeling. And something else was on his mind.

Stone ditched dinner for the night, opting to just eat an apple after his stomach protested against his choice of not having a proper meal.

Sitting himself down on his bed, door locked, knees pulled up near his chest to support the tablet that laid propped up on his thighs, Stone reviewed his options. He spent around 30 minutes choosing a specific texture and color, picking a design that both him and the doctor would prefer to look at. At some point, Stone went to turn off the lights in his room when it hit 2230, but refusing to sleep, his brain keeping his eyes glued to the screen in the dark.

After he had set his mind on the design that he favored, Stone’s finger hesitantly hovered over the ‘deliver’ button. He reached over to his nightstand and blindly grabbed the eye drops, moisturizing his eyes before they scream in pain from dryness.

Would the doctor be mad that he took his words a tad too seriously? Would he be fired for ordering this even when the doctor agreed to the ‘experiment’?

Stone swallowed thickly, feeling a drop of sweat slowly trickling down the side of his forehead despite the AC in the room. Sighing and turning his head in another direction, Stone tapped at his screen randomly – almost angrily – until the soft blip was heard and his tablet signaled that the order had been placed and will be ready to be delivered.

Stone looked at the estimate time for delivery.

A week. It would probably come in on Tuesday.

Another sigh escaped him. Taking a glance at the time before turning off the tablet, Stone pulled the covers and bury himself under them in hopes of drowning out his guilty thoughts with sleep.

It inevitably didn’t work.

The following days were nothing out the ordinary, to Stone’s relief. Robotnik barely said anything regarding the situation that still had Stone in a chokehold, but knowing the doctor wouldn’t bring it up gave away some tension.

Until the day it delivered.

It was not, in fact, on Tuesday morning like the agent had expected. It sat with the receptionist, a small carefully packaged box with one corner slightly soaked from the rain outside. Stone never paid too much mind to who worked the shift but now he needed to pay attention.

Did they saw the package and assumed it belonged to one of the residents? Did they check the contents inside or just read the label on top?

Most importantly: did they know he ordered that?

Stone sighed internally, shaking his drenched helmet a few times before walking up to the desk. The receptionist behind it looked up at him with bored out eyes. No questions or fake greetings, likely knowing he live in the building and just waiting for him to ask a question.

“When was this package delivered?” Stone asked, trying to keep his face neutral and not give out the fact he was ashamed of himself.

“Around the afternoon, maybe 1400, I think.” Replied the receptionist, who immediately cocked his head towards the package, signaling for Stone to take it. “I saw it in your name, so just take it.”

So: Yes, no and yes.

Stone didn’t know whether to be glad that the receptionist knew it that he ordered it or didn’t bother asking questions about the content inside. Giving him a quiet thanks and grabbing the box more violently than he intended, Stone took one of the empty elevators up to his place with a sense of unease.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Although it barely weighs like anything, it certainly felt like Stone was carrying a dumbbell to work.

Stone sighed and sped up, passing main security and making a b-line straight for the lab. Some other agents greeted him on the way for some unknown reason, but Stone barely gave them so much of a glance before he was fumbling with his pockets, trying to find his ID and badge to present to the scanner at the door.

The smell of cigarette wafted through the air, just reaching Stone’s nose enough to make him wish for a morning cigarette of his own.

The badniks stationed at the door probably recognized Stone’s unusual nervousness as they quickly accessed the door for Stone to enter. They probably did it out of pity. The agent smiled and thanked them, finally feeling like he didn’t have to be tensed and afraid for nothing.

Well, maybe there was something to be afraid of, but he was nowhere near it yet.

The doctor wasn’t in yet, so that was a good sign. Stone always made sure he arrived two hours before the genius himself so he could clean up and make his latte. Some badniks floated around the lab lazily, analyzing anything that came in their path, which meant analyzing whatever state Stone was in. one badnik perked up and knocked against the arm holding his briefcase. Maybe they found the collar.

“It’s okay, it’s nothing dangerous.” Stone ushered the badniks away, trying his best to shoo them off. Unfortunately, he was dealing with the doctor’s inventions, which meant stubbornness.

The agent sighed and unlatched his briefcase, cautiously pulling out the velvet purple collar with a silver ring attached to the front for the leash (Stone assumed) that came with the collar. Silver and purple was his color choice, with yellow embroidered words that read out ‘STONE’S’ on the back of the collar near the buckle. Stone was embarrassed when the person he ordered it from asked if he wanted to write anything on it (Most recommended was either the pet’s name or the owner’s), but he didn’t pass on the opportunity for it.

The drones scan it carefully, machinery whirring and their usually deathly beam toned down to something that looked like an x-ray scan. Stone stood nervously, his nerves feeling jittery and he swore his heart either stopped beating or was beating way too fast for him to catch on.

Yanking the collar away from the badniks’ scans, Stone hurried to the small kitchen to prepare the doctor’s coffee before it was too late. On his way there, Stone left the collar on Robotnik’s desk, the embroidered name turned away from view and leash nicely coiled right beside it.

Stone let his mind rest from its anxieties as he fell back into the latte making routine, watching the espresso swell and the milk swirl around in the pitcher. The latte was finished in a limited time, perfect the way he wanted it and just how the doctor would prefer it. Stone planned on drawing something more complicated into the cup, so after a minute of shuffling around the small space, Stone propped up a circuit board and started etching every detail onto the top. He was quite proud of what he made, gazing at it with a grin that would split his face in two.

Picking up the cup and choosing a saucer for it, Stone made his way towards the lab, nervous to find Robotnik there, swiveling around in his chair as his hand glided across holo-screens. The collar was still on the table, barely moved let alone touched.

Okay, let’s get this over with. Stone thought to himself as he placed the cup near the collar, eyes lingering on it for a moment to admire the way how the light was caught against the silver buckle.

“Your latte, Doctor.” Stone announced softly, straightening himself and placing both hands behind his back as Robotnik moved over to where Stone stood, picking up the coffee with grace and taking a long drink from it.

The music kept playing, Robotnik never looked at the collar, and Stone was getting more anxious by the second.

Of course. Of course the doctor meant it as a joke, he should’ve known that. Why would he ever indulge in the idea of a collar in the first place?

And Stone thought he was smarter than this. Maybe he was wrong. He should probably remove it from the doctor’s line of sight.

Just as he reached out for it however, Robotnik’s hand darted out and grabbed his wrist tightly, perfectly trimmed nails digging into the flesh of his wrist. Stone pulled back to put his hand back to their original position, and was surprised he was allowed to. The agent realized too late that the doctor was gloveless.

“About time, Agent.” Robotnik commented, clicking a few buttons and turning off the music completely.

Stone just stared.

About time for what? He couldn’t possibly be talking about the collar, right?

The doctor abruptly stood up and took of his coat, draping it over the back of his chair. Stone continued to be frozen in place, eyes widening by the second as Robotnik seemed to take pleasure in removing his coat as slowly as possible. Although he wore a turtleneck underneath, Stone still considered that moment being the first he had seen the doctor so dressed down.

So he was talking about it.

Fixing and adjusting the high neck of his turtleneck, Robotnik beckoned Stone closer with his finger, practically hauling him forward without physical touch. Stone complied without a word.

“Go ahead, Agent, do the honors.” Robotnik said, arms crossed in front of him as he faced his back towards Stone, head turned ever so slightly to look at his stunned agent. He was sure he looked like a tomato.

Swallowing thickly, Stone picked up the collar with shaky hands, already sweaty from his nervousness and slowly placed it around his boss’s neck before fastening it. Not too tight to choke, not too loose to be uncomfortable. It sat just over his Adams apple.

Robotnik attempted at swallowing, picking up his latte and taking a sip from it before he deemed it suitable. Stone’s hands hovered in front of himself, eyes fixated on the collar, the color complimenting Robotnik’s pale skin and dark complexion.

“I’m sure there was another item you have yet to give to me.” Robotnik requested, hand outstretched and an expected look on his face.

Stone’s throat dried up and closed on him. Another swallow, this one dryer than the previous.

The leash laid still coiled on the table, the clasp gleaming lightly in the light of the monitor. Stone picked it up, smoothing his hand across the fabric before attaching it on the back. He wondered why there was a ring in front if he wasn’t going to use it.

After it was fully attached and Stone had backed up more than he should, Robotnik took his sweet time admiring it in a small, circular mirror he had conjured from a badnik. The leash hung loosely and fell down his back, giving the illusion of a well-crafted scarf if it wasn’t swaying from side to side so often with every little movement.

The doctor didn’t seem to mind the fact he was wearing something made for an animal while the agent couldn’t get all the thoughts he had concealed for years under control. The thought rose and died down, pushed to the back of Stone’s mind before any could fully become too vivid.

“Shut up, Stone. What I say goes.” Robotnik raised a finger and pressed it against Stone’s lips. At least he knew the agent was going to open his mouth to apologize. The pad of his finger pressed into Stone’s lips, still and indecisive about whether or not should said finger be pushed into the agent’s mouth.

Stone waited with bated breath. It didn’t happen. The finger was removed and the hand was placed on Robotnik’s hip.

Stone sighed and nodded, a muted ‘yessir’ gone unheard.

The badniks that were nearby floated towards their creator, curiously looking at the new accessory that laid on his neck. Robotnik smirked and let out a breathy laugh, patting their hull and praising them in Japanese. Stone decided to tune those honey covered words out lest he attempt something stupid.

Before Stone could return to his desk with something that didn’t feel exactly like relief but close enough to it to put him at ease, a cold pain shot him square through his heart, making it drop to the pit of his stomach with an imaginary dull thud.

Robotnik immediately took Stone sudden stillness for something relating to either immediate danger or profound annoyance. Twirling the leash around his finger and down his wrist like a telephone cord, Robotnik eyed Stone expectedly, waiting for the stunned agent to speak up about their new problem.

“We have a field test today, Doctor.” Stone said meekly, head down casted with the look of intense guilt on his face. “It’s for the new paralysis system as well as self-destruction and auto pilot system.” Stone listed out the contents of the test, hands fiddling with each other despite his best efforts to stop.

The doctor only hummed in acknowledgement and sighed with annoyance, fingers pitching his temples as a few curses were muttered. He made no move to remove the collar.

Stone’s face heated up again.

“What time, Stone?” Robotnik asked, signaling a few badniks towards the mobile lab.

“In about 20 minutes, Doctor.” Stone said, eyes finally meeting his superior in hopes of him understanding the situation.

Unfortunately, Robotnik decided to be illiterate for the day and strutted off towards his quarters, either preparing the program or to change his clothes (the coat still laid draped on the chair, he didn’t take it with him).

Stone watched in complete mortification, his blood running cold despite his body feeling like it was burning.

Maybe he could get through this, as long as nothing goes wrong. As long as no one stare at the doctor from the back for too long. The collar will still be there; questions will be raise but Stone felt like Robotnik would spare him the shame of answering it and ignoring it all together.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stone arrived at their destination first with the permission of using his bike to get there. Stone greeted Commander Walters, the sergeant and the mayor at the scene, pulling out his badge and informing them about Robotnik’s arrival, whether he was coming late or not. They gave him a hollow thanks for his services before sending him to stand with the rest of the agents there.

Stone made a mental note of their names: Sergeant Lucas and Major Emily. Nice looking people, though Stone much preferred to stare into the sun than their faces.

Sergeant Lucas, a man past middle age addressed Stone with a stern voice of a father. Major Emily was younger than the sergeant by a few years, maybe older than Stone by a year, but he seemed to sustain a concerning amount of anxiety for someone his age.

The agent quickly noted that the contamination team was on stand-by along with the medical team, chatting and smoking despite their current role for the scene. Stone sighed at the sight, gazing at the cigarettes longer than he should be.

It took the doctor less than ten minutes to arrive at the scene, the mobile lab deafeningly screeching to a halt, annoying a few standing too close to it. Commander Walters quickly made his way towards the door of the truck, standing a few feet away from it as the steps rolled out. He planned on greeting the doctor and get him through the bare minimum manner he should have, like a mother with a particularly rowdy child.

Robotnik appeared like a god among mortals, little clouds of smoke curling out by his sides. Stone would only think that if it wasn’t for the visible velvet purple on his neck. The leash was tucked away elsewhere, presumably curled up and pushed against the collar of his coat. The commander was reasonably confused and shocked, eyeing the collar suspiciously but not questioning it. Stone winced at the sight of the commander’s slightly raised brow.

Before the test started, Robotnik ordered for Major Emily (now known to Robotnik as Major I-don’t-care) to have Stone be beside him at all times regardless of circumstances. The major tried and failed to explain to Robotnik about the dangers of having an unarmed agent next to him while he conducted the test, but the doctor was having none of that.

Stone sighed and thanked his lucky stars that the back of the collar was covered by the high collar coat Robotnik was wearing.

The test ran smoothly, with little to no unnecessary or wanton destruction. Stone tuned out most of it, knowing how it will all go down considering he got front seats to the new features months before the test at hand.

What Stone hadn’t notice was, during the duration of the doctor’s speech, Robotnik had removed his coat and gave it to one of his badniks, effectively having it carry the coat away and back to the mobile lab. The agent only realized it when Major I-don’t-care (Major Emily, Stone thought to himself) tapped his shoulder.

“Is there something you need, Major?” Stone answered politely, keeping the irritation out his voice.

“Please explain why your name is plastered on the back of the doctor’s…new accessory, agent.” His eyes were squinting from the sun, but his tone reflected uneasiness and a bit of concern. The major looked like he was holding back a load of disgusted statements behind his teeth. Stone felt his face heat up as he turned his head to see that, indeed, some people were staring a bit too intensely at the yellow embroidered words on the back. If Robotnik noticed, he didn’t address it.

A mini-nik was making sure the leash that was still attached to the collar didn’t fall of, carefully and softly coiling it around Robotnik’s and tucking it under his turtleneck while the rest of the audience was distracted with the show the badniks were putting up. Stone silently thanked the mini-nik.

Stone quickly shooed the major away, shuffling nervously by the doctor’s side to try and address the situation without being too obvious. He leaned in and tapped Robotnik’s shoulder once and whispered in his ear when the doctor paused his speech to listen to his agent.

“Doctor, my name is on the back of the collar.” Stone pointed out nervously. There was no way around it, no convenient short-cuts or excuses, so being blunt and straightforward was his best and safest option.

To his surprise – or the lack of it actually, the doctor just shrugged and continued as if nothing happened. As if his agent didn’t order or commissioned a custom made collar with his own name in the back. Stone was sure he could die of embarrassment. Some of the contamination crew eyed him from under their mask. Some judgmental, throwing him disgusted looks while exactly one threw him two thumbs up with a cheery attitude. Stone mentally note to spare him when the doctor took over the world.

Throughout the conclusion of the test, Stone stood as close to Robotnik as possible, looking like as if he might suffer from a heat stroke or a heart attack at any moment. Robotnik didn’t give him so much as a glance, clearly enjoying his time insulting everyone in the audience. Stone wished he was down there.

Eventually, somewhere between degrading someone’s brain matter and explaining the medical side effects of the paralysis system, the sergeant Stone had greeted when he first arrived approached Robotnik with a fury that was a common sight to Stone at that point.

His hands were balled into fists by his side, strides long and firm, each step pronounced by his heavy military boots. The cap that laid on his head previously was gone, letting medium brunette hair with a few grey strands be ruffled by the wind. Robotnik visibly paused at the sight, hands curled slightly in front of his chest and head slightly turned to the sergeant’s direction, an annoyed and disgusted expression laid on his features.

Stone wasn’t sure what spiraled down afterwards as his brain scrambled to understand the situation. When the sergeant started yelling, he was talking about how the paralysis system could possibly endanger an ally’s life if used for the wrong purpose. Robotnik was also yelling back at him, somehow managing to respond to all the sergeant’s stupid question while producing insults of his own.

Later on in the conversation, Sergeant Lucas talked about the auto-pilot system, accusing the doctor of not having a manual override in case of a dire situation, to which Robotnik loudly objected to with a finger pointed directly at sergeant. 

Then it happened. Stone saw it, just a small motion that could be easily missed if he wasn’t careful. The tightening muscle of the doctor’s jaw, how his hands pressed down on the buttons of his control glove, his feet grounding himself and staying put in his chosen position. The doctor had stopped shouting, his voice dying down for a completely different reason. Sergeant Lucas probably thought he won the argument, but Stone knew he was about to be dragged down to Hell and back if he didn’t shut up now.

Unfortunately, not everyone saw the signs of danger before it was too late. Stone had to prevent it. He didn’t want his doctor getting hurt, much less letting him waste his energy on an idiot that would know better if he used his brain.

Stone could feel his pulse rapidly increasing, the sound of his own heartbeat in his ear and his blood not knowing whether to run cold or boil over.

With one swift movement, Stone reached up and untucked the leash from where it was coiled around the doctor’s neck, tucked under the high neck of his turtleneck. The thick and rough fabric met Stone’s hand, and he paused for a fracture of a second to decide whether it was a good idea or not.

His brain worked faster than his physical action, however, as he quickly found himself tugging hard on the leash and pulling Robotnik back a few steps.

“Down boy!” Stone commanded with a tone he rarely used around the doctor, a small choked off noise came from the genius as he was dragged back a few pace. The agent’s voice echoed throughout the field, evoking a few interested faces and some disgusted comments.

The medical team could only gawk from a distance, exchanging alarmed glances as they witness Stone’s impulsive action. The contamination team ushered each other away, ash tray forgotten and snacks left for the raccoons to take.

Commander Walters and Major Emily raised their heads from the other side of the field like a startled deer, eyes quickly darting towards the scene that was being unfolded. The clipboard Walters was holding slowly slipped from his grasp before he steadied himself, gripping on the clipboard for dear life and wrinkling the papers. Major Emily sent a worried questioning look towards the commander, eyes clearly asking whether Stone would die by Robotnik’s hands after they leave the scene or he would be assigned to someone else

Robotnik’s hand came up and tugged on the collar, eyes wide and darting behind him to look at his agent before that hand was dropped to his side. His mind went blue-screened, a quiet but irritating whirring occupied the more sensible part of his mind. Stone’s face was pulled into something cold and calculated, startling the sergeant who had his lips sealed and jaw forced shut.

“We don’t need another HR report.” The formalities were dropped. No ‘Doctor’, no ‘Sir’ or anything of the sort. The usual docile and big eyed agent’s voice dropped an octave lower, eyes staring daggers into the back of the doctor’s head. Stone had addressed Robotnik as if he was the agent in this case.

The doctor nodded slowly, hands unclenching by his sides as he swallowed hard around the collar. Stone knew that pull would’ve choked his doctor or broke his windpipe if he was more violent, but it luckily didn’t. however, it did leave the medical and contamination team in shock. Commander Walters, Major Emily and Sergeant could only stare, mouth slightly hanging while the sergeant’s was still snapped shut.

Robotnik cleared his throat and straightened himself, glancing ever so often at his agent’s expression and the way his hand was still clutching the leash. Stone felt dread settling in his stomach like lead, but he kept his expression up, not letting it falter lest all of this gone to waste. Robotnik brushed invincible dust off himself, scoffing in a softer manner as his eyes darted wildly between the agent that still held the leash behind him and the stunned sergeant in front of him.

With a glance and a simple nod, Stone let go of the leash and dutifully followed the doctor back to mobile lab. Ten mini-niks buzzed around their creator, trying to access his current physical state while Robotnik tried to wave them away. Stone’s face was turned away from everyone else, steady and quiet steps approaching his bike and picking up the helmet, ready to depart.

“Stone, you’re coming with me.” Robotnik ordered, his expression now pulled back to something more neutral as he beckon his agent. The one that just pulled on the leash and commanded him like he was a dog.

Stone’s body gone rigid, his movement stiff but his expression remained cold. He nodded and dropped his helmet down on the seat of his bike, walking over to join the doctor in his truck.

Any government official left on the field could only silently discuss with each other about the scene the pair had caused. Sergeant Lucas was reasonably pissed, immediately falling into an angry, controlled rant about Robotnik while Major Emily’s main concern was about the collar.

“I did ask about it.” Stated the major, eyeing everyone else around him with worry. Commander Walters nodded solemnly, a thumb and index under his chin as he tried to analyze the situation in his mind.

The guy who threw Stone two positive thumbs up were being ridiculed by his teammates, like a little brother with his older siblings. He tried to defend himself, though he wasn’t sure if he had an excuse, so he succumbed to the jokes and mocking.

****

Word count: 6164 words

[atiny-for-life]

Ateez's Full Storyline Explained - Part 24

Masterlist

Golden Hour: Part 3 - Diary Entries:

Thanks to @loving-that-officey-feel, I've now been able to get my own version of the Diary Entries, which is why I can tell you how to access them! Upon purchasing the Poca album, you'll receive a QR code which you can scan with the Poca app to receive your digital content - this includes all the songs and a tab labeled "Exclusives" where you'll then find the Diary Entries in both Korean and English.

When we last left of, Wooyoung made his wish to Sopro, which is precisely whose POV we're now reading from at the start of these entries. Yes, it's Sopro itself who's now speaking to us:

I am alive. If anyone were to ask why, I honestly could not answer. For as long as I can remember, I have always been alive. I was not brought into existence by my own will. I had lived without thought until one day, I suddenly became aware – aware of the fact that I had been born. But then, where did I come from? Who am I? What am I?

As we will later be reminded once again, Sopro is not an inanimate object - it's a spirit, a being, something seemingly capable of thought and self-awareness. And as we now find out, also the ability to converse with the world itself:

"Who am I?" I shouted out to the world, hoping the world might answer me. "Who am I?" the world echoed back the same question. It sounded just like my own voice. "So, you don't know who you are either?" I asked the world again. And once again, it responded the same. "So, you don't know who you are either?"

After Sopro's conversation with the world turns out fruitless, we get to see the exact moment it gets to feel emotion for the first time. And what is that emotion? It's pure, overwhelming joy. And soon we'll learn why and how that came to be.

We're with Wooyoung now, the day after he made his wish to Sopro, and it's past noon, though for Wooyoung, it might as well be morning since he only fell asleep at eight a.m.. Still, he's feeling surprisingly good this day and even greets his reflection before he compliments his own appearance and chuckles to himself.

Why he's feeling so upbeat soon becomes apparent when we learn the following:

Wooyoung had made plans with San to attend Hongjoong's book signing event together.

Even more so, we learn that just before the sun rose that morning, the members had all texted Wooyoung, one by one, each to let him know they agreed with him now and also wish to get back together again:

Jongho:  I've always related to how you felt. I kept thinking we should come back together as a group, too. Let's try this, hyung! Yunho: Honestly, I was a little scared. But after what you said last night, I realized – there's nothing we can't do. I'm in. Mingi: I woke up this morning feeling like we could do anything. I guess I was just tired last night and got a little grumpy. Let's give it a shot. Seonghwa: Let's see it through this time. As far as we can go. San: I'm always on your side, Jung Wooyoung. You know that, right? I'm with you. Hongjoong: I guess we were all a little afraid, since we'd gone too far down our own paths. But, somehow, I'm sure now – We can really make it this time. Let's make it happen, Wooyoung. Yeosang: I think I said too much. I don't even know why I did that. After sleeping on it, I couldn't help but think, was there really anything more important than our dream? Anyway, I want to be part of this, too.

Internally, Wooyoung then acknowledges that Sopro likely changed his members' minds, but that if they really made it this time, surely they would all be happy in the end, no matter what.

In a flashback to the previous night, we then find out what Sopro's powers look like as they work: it emits a light, one which travels from the mouth of the one who voices the wish to their own body before it disappears.

This matches what we see at the end of Crazy Form when the bluebird soars through the sky: the pulsing bright light as it connects to the people of Strictland, uniting their emotions.

We return to the present where Wooyoung is on his way to the book signing event:

The weather was as bright as his mood. This time, it truly felt like nothing could stop them. Wooyoung was sure of it. Things were already looking up. Some members had become famous in their fields; one could produce music, and another had the means to fund it. It was no longer like those earlier days when all they did - and all they could do - was work hard in vain.

But at the event, just as Wooyoung was about to greet Hongjoong, a fan he was signing a copy of his book for spilled tomato juice directly onto his head in front of everyone but, of course, instead of getting angry, he merely laughs it off:

Hongjoong smiled warmly, reassuring the reader who had spilled the drink. 'Same as ever. I doubt he even knows how to get mad,' thought Wooyoung. Hongjoong had always been like that. He instinctively put others' feelings before his own. Whenever Woo Young had to deal with a difficult passenger, he'd think of Hongjoong – someone born for this kind of work.

Despite Hongjoong's reaction though, Wooyoung gets a little pissed at the fan who proceeds to forego an apology in favor of making a weird joke:

"Hahahahaha! It's like you get to experience Spain's tomato festival right here in Korea! Isn't it great?" Huh? What kind of nonsense was that? That was definitely not the kind of attitude you'd expect from someone who should be apologizing. Wooyoung stared in disbelief. He couldn't hold it in any longer. "Hey, jokes are fine and all, but don't you think you should apologize fir-" Wooyoung was cut off. Because, all at once, the room burst into laughter. People glanced at one another, grinning.

Just then, San arrives but instead of relieving Wooyoung of his confusion as hoped, San merely starts laughing alongside everyone else in their vicinity:

Wooyoung:  "Why are you laughing?" San: "Why? Obviously, because I'm happy. Hahahahaha."

But when asked, San can't even tell Wooyoung why he's happy - he just is.

The situation escalates further when another person in line flings their drink at someone. The two involved look at each and yet again burst into laughter, triggering others to follow their example.

All the while, Hongjoong and San simply watch, cackling at the steadily unraveling chaos. And it doesn't stop there.

When someone else decides throwing drinks or getting splashed is no longer enough, they begin ripping pages from the book in their hand and stuffing them in their mouth before chewing on them like a snack. The sight alone leads to even more giggling, more laughter from all around, like everyone has suddenly lost their minds or at least turned into a bunch of children high on sugar.

People begin to copy what they witnessed, leading to more torn pages, more mouths full of paper. And then Hongjoong reaches for the book in front of him and rips one out as well.

But just before he could put it in his mouth, Wooyoung snatched it out of his hand. Wooyoung: "Hyung! What the heck are you doing? Pull yourself together!" Hongjoong: "Hahahaha. Isn't this hilarious, Wooyoung? Hahahaha." "Isn't this hilarious?" Wooyoung couldn't wrap his head around what Hongjoong meant. But for some reason, Wooyoung was laughing too. Wooyoung's reflection in the glass was laughing.

In that moment, Wooyoung realizes what he's thinking and feeling are completely disconnected from one another. The dissociation which comes with the realization leaves him nauseous.

He begins dry heaving, runs to the bathroom, but just as the sixth wave of stomach churning sickness crashes into him, a bright, ruby-red light leaves his mouth and leaves him frozen still.

He stares, watches the thing hover mid-air in front of him. And it's then that his brain clicks: it's Sopro.

Zooming around him, once twice, as if in greeting, it completes its rounds before it whizzes onward and flies right into San's wide-open, laughing mouth.

The sight has the crowd cackling even harder.

Reaching up to his own face, Wooyoung checks if he himself is also still laughing, but discovers he's finally stopped. His expression has turned grave, mirroring his emotions. But for now, he's the only one.

Grabbing Hongjoong and San, Wooyoung begins dragging them the six hundred meters to the fire department Seonghwa is currently working at (where they'd originally planned to meet). But with both of them still cackling, and everyone else they come across also bursting into laughter, the six hundred meters drag on to a one hour walk.

And even when they get there, Seongwha is nowhere to be found. The fire chief's daughter (a big fan of Mingi's) greets them instead and takes them to her father - who is of course also laughing hysterically.

Upon inquiring about Seonghwa's whereabouts, Wooyoung is told a huge fire had broken out at the printing factory so Seonghwa was dispatched to help put it out.

Hearing that it was only a 15-minute walk, Wooyoung decided to head there. It seemed that the fire chief - and all the other firefighters at the station - were too busy laughing. At that moment, Wooyoung wanted nothing more than to find someone who felt the same as he did. He had a faint hope that Seonghwa of all people wouldn't let himself get caught up in this strange phenomenon. After all, he had never seen Seonghwa laugh hysterically before. Seonghwa:  "Gyahahahaha! The fire's being extinguished. It's going OUT! Hahahaha."

Although the fire has been brought under control, Wooyoung gets a pounding headache when he realizes everyone was laughing at the burning remains of the factory - including the factor owner himself. The disconnect, the absurdity, is getting to Wooyoung, making him feel like he's the bonkers one for still being serious while everyone around him is so full of joy.

But right as he puts his hands in his pockets and turns away to take a second to just breathe and listen to his own racing thoughts, he finds a crumpled piece of paper in his pocket: the page he'd taken from Hongjoong so he wouldn't eat it. The page from Hongjoong's book.

The text printed on it was about Z's brainwashing speech - one of the ones he'd used to manipulate the people of Strictland.

As he read it, Wooyoung felt a strange sense of irony. How odd, he thought, to find himself relating - even just a little - to the words of Z. Wooyoung: "A small error is a crack, and cracks lead to pain. Pain. Pain is an unnecessary emotion and a negative element in life. We want to protect you all." In the face of the paradoxical situation he was currently trapped in, Wooyoung was stunned. Without thinking, he began to read Z's words out loud. That was when, though it lasted only for a brief moment, Hongjoong, San, and Seonghwa stopped laughing.

The effect only lasts for a second but it's enough for Wooyoung to view it as potentially meaningful, so he does it again:

Wooyoung: "A world without cracks is always beautiful. You, living your life in your position, are the world itself." It wasn't just his imagination. As Wooyoung read Z's speech aloud, the three stopped laughing and clutched their heads, as if struck by a wave of pain. San even began to gag. It was working! Wooyoung: "Don't doubt yourselves. You're always right." He recited the words "Don't doubt yourselves" over and over, and Hongjoong, San, and Seonghwa began to show signs of confusion. San kept gagging until Sopro was finally ejected from his body. At the same time, Hongjoong and Seonghwa screamed in agony from the intense headaches. Sopro, still floating in the air, flew rapidly around them as if it were scanning everything around it. Like a bee, it buzzed past the burnt factory, the bright-red fire truck, the blue sky, and the lush trees. HWUP! Taking in a deep breath, Hongjoong, San, and Seonghwa looked around like they had just woken up from a deep sleep. They were no longer smiling. Finally!

All three call out Wooyoung's name when they come to, leading Wooyoung to put on a policeman-tone to order them not to laugh because he can't stand it anymore.

But of course, that exact tone only has all three of them cackling, leading to a brief period of despair for Wooyoung when he thinks he failed.

Seonghwa:  "It's not what you think. It's just... the way you said 'don't laugh!' with such a serious look on your face..." San: "Seriously. How much trouble did we put you through with our laughing?" Only then did Wooyoung finally look up and examine the members' faces. While they were smiling, they weren't laughing hysterically like they had been before. Wooyoung studied the crumpled paper in his hand. As soon as he felt the relief of having the members back to their usual selves, a question arose in his mind. Since Sopro was an item from World Z, he wondered if it might be reacting to Z's words. Wooyoung: "Does this mean that Z saved us?" Hongjoong: "When you were reading that, flashes of the events we experienced in World Z began appearing in my head. It was as if my mind were a giant popcorn machine, and our memories were the popcorn bursting inside." Seonghwa: "It's not so much that Z saved us, but that Z's speech brought back memories of our time there. It caused this burning pain in my head, but then, all of a sudden, my mind cleared."

With no better way to explain what happened, they all run with Seonghwa's theory and look around at the still cackling people around them.

Right. Without having those same memories from World Z, the same words wouldn't work on anyone but the eight of them. So what now?

Still caught up in his thoughts, Wooyoung's attention is drawn by San who asks how all this could have happened in the first place. But before Wooyoung can answer, Sopro decides to continue wreaking some havoc by picking its next host: the printing factory owner.

The man, who had been laughing hysterically as he watched his life's work go up in flames, swallowed Sopro and instantly stopped laughing.

Having found a new host, we're now back with Sopro right as it first left its state of solace, its state of only having the world to talk to, because now it has felt emotion and what it's like to have a body and it's gotten hooked on the experience.

I was so happy. It felt like my chest might burst, and laughter just spilled out of me. People called this feeling - this sense of saying yes to everything - joy. Some called it delight, or amusement, or excitement. Joy, joy, joy. The word sounded so pretty, I couldn't help but say it over and over. Everything felt new-the water splashing into the air, the sunlight sparkling all around, even the simple act of breathing in and out. The crinkle of smiles at the corners of people's eyes, the trees swaying as if waving back. It was all so strange, so beautiful... so exciting, so delightful, so funny, so full of joy. How had I gone my whole life without noticing any of it?

While residing within San, Sopro discovered emotions beyond joy - a whole rainbow of them, but it can't make sense of them so, in search of something new, it leaves its second host on its own accord, only to realize life without a body is dulled. It can't feel this way, can't interact with its surroundings, so it seeks out another body:

It was then that I noticed him, a person who looked just like an empty shell. He wasn't far from the first two hosts I had entered. The man was sitting on the ground, laughing at the sight of a burnt building. And so, I dove toward him. Splash. The sensation was akin to diving into a deep, dark sea. I lost all sense of direction, unsure of which way was up or down. I wanted to escape, and so I kept swimming. After a while, I began to wonder whether I was swimming toward something or simply sinking.

We're back with Wooyoung right as he's getting embarrassed at having to spill what he did with Sopro. As sure as he'd been the night before, saying it all again now in bright daylight felt a bit... awkward.

Recounting the events of last night back to the members, he was reminded of Yeo Sang's words: "Grow up. How long do you plan on acting so recklessly?" Part of him felt so wronged. Is it really so reckless to still be chasing a dream? Is it such a childish thing to do? Embarrassment and frustration fought inside him, and, for a moment, he felt as if he might cry. But he didn't. His ears just burned a deeper shade of red instead. San: "So you think it synchronized our emotions? That sounds half-right... but also half-wrong." Hongjoong: "Sopro didn't come inside me, so I don't really know much about that. What I felt was more like... this overwhelming surge of happiness and joy." Seonghwa: "I guess you could say it was kind of like being a little drunk. Sort of like when you're already in a good mood and the alcohol just makes you even more giddy." Hongjoong: "Yeah, exactly. But unlike alcohol, it didn't mess with my memory or anything. It was just the emotion, vivid and clear, like it was all I could feel"

Hearing them talk like that, Wooyoung feels surprised. He expected a scolding, to get blamed for what he did - chewed out, maybe slapped and told off - but all they were focusing on was the Sopro-situation? Getting more nervous, all he can think about is that he just wants to get the consequences over with.

Wooyoung: "Sorry. It's my fault you all got dragged into this mess." Seeing how visibly deflated Woo Young looked, the members began confessing their own wrongdoings one by one, looking as though they had no other choice. Hongjoong: "You know, three years ago, when we were all starting to get busy on our own and drift apart, I thought about using Sopro myself. I even went to see Yeo Sang about it, but ended up turning back empty-handed." San: "Back when I first started setting up my food truck, I needed money, so I went to ask Yeo Sang for help. That day, I saw Sopro at his house and also thought for a second that maybe I should use it to bring us back together. But honestly, I was too afraid to even touch Sopro, so I never did." Seonghwa: "I think it was some time around the start of this year? I was drinking with Yeo Sang, and he pulled out Sopro. He said he still feels guilty whenever he thinks about how his father's opposition split us apart. Now that he's strong enough to protect us, he wondered if we could come together through Sopro-at least in spirit."

Their confessions cause something within Wooyoung's mind to click: he'd been so sure Yeosang had given up on their dream of being together, but... How could he have ever thought that when it was Yeosang who'd sacrificed himself by breaking the Cromer so the rest of them could be safe? If anything, Yeosang had always valued them and their dream above all else.

Seonghwa: "Using the buzz as an excuse, we were actually planning to activate Sopro. I also really missed our time together a lot. But then, suddenly, Yeosang said something." "Hey, hyung... What if what the guys are doing right now becomes their dream?" Seonghwa recalled how Yeosang's words snapped him back to his senses. Lost in the past, he had momentarily forgotten about his dream of becoming a firefighter. Seonghwa liked his job as a firefighter. While it may not have been his original dream, that didn't mean it lacked any meaning to him. "What if-and these are all just 'what-ifs.' What if the guys have found new dreams? If we were to use Sopro now, and go back to how things were in the past, wouldn't that mean I'd be robbing the members of their dreams again?" Seonghwa: "Your first love isn't your only love. And that is why, in the end, we put Sopro back in its place." Though the red hue in his ears had faded, Woo Young felt even more embarrassed than before. He realized that Yeosang was definitely so much more mature than himself. Even the fact that he had felt resentful for a brief moment made him feel ashamed now.

Voicing his thoughts, Wooyoung hangs his head while San and Seonghwa both step up to him, each wrapping an arm around one of his shoulders, leaving him in their midst while Hongjoong steps up to him:

Hongjoong: "We're not saying all this to make you feel bad. What I wanted to say is that we all wanted to use Sopro, too. There's no need to blame yourself." Hongjoong gently tousled Wooyoung's hair. How could Wooyoung not love these kind-hearted, understanding friends of his? It made him realize once again that, while he did want to make music and perform and dance on stage, the most important part of that dream was being together with the other members that he loved so dearly. Looking at the three pairs of feet gathered around him in a circle, Wooyoung clenched his fists. This was no time to wallow in self-pity. He was the one who awakened Sopro, and it was up to him to find a way out of this.

Recalling what Left Eye told them back in Z-World about the creation of Sopro, Wooyoung explains it must have reacted to Z's words as a result of its origin.

The members nod in agreement, yet Hongjoong also points out that no one else but them reacted to the quotes, which means something else might be going on.

But right as he says it, everyone stops laughing at once.

The four of them look around.

All while they were still trying to make sense of what had happened, a fire hose suddenly fell to the ground with a thud. The firefighter, who was wrapping up, let go of the fire hose and slumped to the floor with a heavy sigh. Waaaaahhhh. He groaned, and soon after, he burst into tears. His crying grew louder and louder until it was a sorrowful, heavy sob. It sounded both deeply painful and sad. Wahhhhhhh Waaahhhh. The sound of crying erupted all around them like a water dam breaking into a flood. The whole city - its shops, apartments, house-lined streets, and public squares - filled with sadness. The members, who had been making their way out of the alley and looking around the main street, seemed momentarily overwhelmed by the grief and paused for a moment, holding their breath.

Upon realizing the printing factory owner has disappeared, Wooyoung finally understand what happened and what it means for the rest of them. Swiftly telling the others, all four take off in a sprint, hoping to quickly track down the source of everyone's grief.

As they run, they find people previously caught up in laughter now slumped over on the ground, either sobbing loudly or lying motionless as they cry silently. The ones still standing have their faces buried in their hands as they weep.

And this? This is worse than the laughing had been.

After a while, it's San who points out Yeosang who seems to have been on his way to Jongho's recording studio before he froze still, overcome by grief and now silently crying.

The image of Yeo Sang standing there on the other side of that glass window reminded them of how he had looked trapped by the Guardians and desolate of hope. It seemed as though while Yeosang's body was here in World A, his mind was still stuck in that moment, in that place in World Z. Tears flowed from his empty eyes. Wooyoung: "Yeo... sang." At the sound of his name being called, Yeosang lifelessly turned to look at Wooyoung standing outside the window. Seeing the deep, dark despair clouding Yeosang's eyes, Wooyoung felt his breath catch in his throat. Back then, after the others had finally made their way back to World Z and saved Yeosang, it was as though he'd lost his voice – as though he were someone who had lost all feeling, devoid of emotion and showing no reaction even to the members' words. It wasn't until much later that Yeosang began to open up about that time. "I thought there was no way out. At first, I tried to find ways to survive, to escape, but before long... I realized there was no way. I don't know if the Guardians stole my emotions from me, or..." Yeosang swallowed his words and left the thought unfinished, but the members knew what he meant to say. Though they wanted to fully understand what Yeosang had gone through during his time trapped alone there, they also knew that there are times when effort alone is not enough. The most they could do for him was to hold his frozen hands and hope that the warmth might reach his heart. No words felt right – no words were enough. As if he understood everything without needing it to be said, Yeosang simply smiled, bright and gentle, and continued: "Still, I like who I am more now, after having gone through all of that. I used to think that there was no way out, but it turns out that was just something I decided when I was lost in despair. There's a huge difference between living with that understanding and living without it, don't you think?" After going through all of that, Yeosang would sometimes joke that he was, by far, now the most mature of them all – If anything, they should all be calling him hyung. And so, the members believed that Yeosang had overcome his pain and that they understood, at least to some extent, the pain that he had endured. But that was all only an illusion. In Yeosang's dark, tear-filled eyes, the wounds left by despair and fear were still there, raw and unhealed. Someone once said that even a speck of one's pain feels heavier than the vast pain of others – that it's the same for everyone. And now, Wooyoung felt like he finally understood what that meant. The pain he had thought was unbearably heavy was, in truth, so small compared to what Yeosang had endured – or was perhaps still enduring.

Shoving the plan of chasing down the factory owner aside, Wooyoung dashes forward and rips open the glass door to get to Yeosang, incapable of bearing the idea of him being trapped another second.

As soon as he reaches him, he grabs Yeosang's hand, feeling cold skin just as he had back then. In his mind, Wooyoung hopes his own warmth will be able to reach Yeosang.

'I finally understand your dream now, Yeosang. You wanted to be free. From the cage your father put you in, from the Guardians' glass room... And you are, Yeosang. You made it. You built a world of your own, and you found the strength now to protect both yourself and everything you hold dear. You're amazing, you know that? Truly incredible.' Wooyoung spoke with his heart as he clutched Yeosang's hand and looked into his dark eyes, praying that his feelings would somehow reach him. And at that moment, he saw it – a small flame flicker to life in Yeosang's once lightless eyes.

The tears pouring from Yeosang's eyes ceased but he was still visibly sad, so Wooyoung's keeps hold of his hand and pulls him along as they continue onward to Jongho's studio alongside the others.

When they arrive, Jongho is surprisingly well - no tears, just calmness. Sopro seemingly had no effect on him.

Despite his cute appearance, Jong Ho could be almost frighteningly incredible. Jongho: "I just got lucky. I was listening to ATEEZ's music when it all happened."

After texting with Wooyoung last night, Jongho headed straight to the recording studio so he could start figuring out what kind of music they'd be making together from now on - the excitement had been to great to simply stay home and wait for their meeting the next day.

Earlier, Sorpo had actually been able to influence him too, but his joy had led him to play Ateez's music from their time in Z-World which had brought back all the memories. The pain resulting from that had then brought him back to his senses.

Jongho: "Yeo Sang hasn't woken up yet, right? Hold on..." Hearing from the other members what had happened, and seeing Yeosang drowning in sorrow, he decided to use the same method that had worked for him. Like a doctor diagnosing and treating a sick patient, Jongho calmly played ATEEZ's music for Yeosang. For a moment, Yeosang held his head in pain, just like the other members had, before life returned to his eyes as he regained consciousness. Wooyoung pulled Yeosang in for a tight hug, sorry that he had misunderstood and resented him for so long. Though a bit awkward, but not unpleasant for him, Yeosang gently patted Wooyoung's back a few times, before quietly asking: Yeosang: "So what exactly is going on?" Haaah... Wooyoung let out a long sigh to which Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and San looked at him and quietly laughed. Wooyoung: "Just how many times am I going to have to atone for my mistakes today? Can we maybe find Mingi and Yunho first before I explain myself again?" Yeosang, who was staring at Wooyoung with a straight face, sighed and responded: Yeosang: "Jung Wooyoung, I knew this would happen. You touched Sopro, didn't you?" 'Damn you, Kang Yeosang....' Woo Young thought.

"Taking coffee orders. Anyone who doesn't respond in 5 minutes is getting an Iced Coffee." "lol!!! Song Mingi look behind you" "Met up with Yunho at the café. We'll head over together." Those were the last messages Yunho and Mingi left in their group chat. It was clear that the two were together and at a café somewhere nearby. Jongho copied ATEEZ's music onto his phone so that it would be ready to play to the crying members once they found them. But first, the group put their heads together and tried to sort out what they knew about Sopro.

After Wooyoung told the others he could primarily recall feeling relief once he voiced his wish to Sopro, he also lets them know he didn't even notice Sopro had entered his body back then.

To this, San explains he felt like Sopro had suppressed all emotions within him except for joy and, as soon as Sopro had left, he'd been able to tell he was being manipulated before, even though it had all felt natural while it had been happening.

Exchaning that information makes all of them realize something must have changed between when Sopro was using Wooyoung as a host versus when it was within San.

Yeosang:  "So what Left Eye told us about Sopro was wrong?" Jongho: "Maybe it's not the emotions of the person using Sopro that are synchronized with others, but the emotions that Sopro chooses to feel instead." Seonghwa: "But that wasn't what Wooyoung experienced. When it was inside Wooyoung, we were sharing his feelings."

As they continued to ponder, Wooyoung decides to voice something he believes he might have noticed earlier:

Wooyoung: "When Sopro left San, it looked a little bigger. At least compared to when it left me." Wooyoung spoke with uncertainty, unsure and suggesting that he might have been mistaken. Meanwhile, Hongjoong, who had been leaning against the wall listening to the other members talk about their experiences, seemed to gain some certainty after hearing Wooyoung's words of observation. Hongjoong: "Could it be that Sopro is getting stronger? The only difference between Wooyoung and San's experience was the order – Wooyoung was first, and San was second." The other members looked at Hongjoong with expressions that clearly said they didn't understand what he meant. Hongjoong, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step closer to the members, continued: Hongjoong: "Try to remember what Left Eye said. According to the legends of World Z, Sopro is a magical spirit (靈) born out of the breath of Halazia. It's not a magic stone, battery, or anything like that. It's a spirit (靈). Do you understand what this means?" It's not an object, but a spirit. What does that even mean? The members pondered the meaning of Hongjoong's words. After a moment, they all answered in unison: "It has a will of its own?!" Yeosang: "It seems like the most plausible theory for now. If Sopro is a spirit with a will, then everything that happened makes sense." Wooyoung: "When the spirit first awoke, it was weak." San: "And by the time it moved to me, it was a little stronger." Jongho: "What about when it switched from joy to sadness?" Seonghwa: "Could it be learning different emotions?" The other members' eyes widened at Seonghwa's words. If, as Seonghwa said, Sopro is experiencing and learning emotions, that would explain their current situation. Hongjoong: "To sum everything up, Sopro is a spirit (靈) with will, and it needs a vessel to contain it, like a body. And each time it moves bodies, it gets stronger." Yeosang: "While doing so, it learns the main emotion each vessel is feeling in that moment. It can also force or impose any emotions it wants to feel onto its shell." Wooyoung: "In other words, Sopro is growing." At Wooyoung's words, everyone looked at each other with their mouths agape. In such a short period of time, it had already made its way through three bodies, and its power had grown to the point that it could force people around it to instantly synchronize with a particular emotion. Like Wooyoung said, Sopro was growing – and it was growing fast. Jongho: "Something's happening." They all turned their heads toward Jongho. Without any further explanation, he held out his phone. The screen was open to Jongho's social media feed, and they could see people's posts were disappearing in real time. Jongho looked up Mingi's account. It read "No Posts." Mingi, an influencer with over 10 million followers, now had an empty account. They kept refreshing the page in disbelief... then Mingi's account disappeared. San: "We need to find Mingi and Yunho!"