#teenage boys grow SO FAST

[moonlit-typewriter]

It’s so funny to see how much older Walker looks as the series continues, despite it not actually being all that long.

I think we all forget what boys ages 12-17 are like, in terms of physical growth. My younger brother went away for a month and came back 5 inches taller and with a fully adult-sounding voice that he did not have when he left. Walker looking like he’s clearly grown is not completely implausible 😂

[likeabxrdinflight]

...I should be editing my dissertation but now I'm thinking about how both Azula and Katara are perhaps the most "adultified" of the atla characters and...hmm. Interesting.

[honey-rye]

the show must go on, I suppose.

[chibifox2002]

IT'S EDDIE BABY'S VERY FIRST BIRTHDAY!!!

Have some bonus puppy pictures because he's growing up too fast

[ghcstcd]

Sorry babes, I cannot call the ghoulette who joined for the recorded performance Eden. I already have an oc named Eden and he's my big baby boy

[seasaltmemories]

Learning to Lend a Helping Hand

Rating: T

Summary: After disappearing without a word three years ago, Sothe writes to Tormod for a favor. In return Tormod learns he doesn't know as much about his friend as he assumed he did. For @queenlua and @nagamas

~

Being back in Daein made the hairs on the back of Tormod’s neck stand on end.

He knew that it had its fair share of decent folks, but it wasn’t as if a country changed over night. For all the crimes the Empire had committed, he knew Laguz who swore Daein wasn’t even safe enough to spend one night in. Even if this time he was helping their army rather than fighting it, that kind of warning was a little hard to shake off.

“Good thing you’re not Laguz then.” Vika liked to comment. She made the observation with the same wry sense of humor she used most every time she opened her mouth, but it annoyed him for her to act as if he had somehow forgotten his own race. It wasn’t a coincidence that as the three of them traveled further and further north, he made it a point to take the lead on chatting up innkeepers or buying supplies. As leader of the Emancipation Army, he had to step up when his men couldn’t.

Still, every time Vika ruffled her wings beneath her cloak, or Muarim adjusted his bandanna, it was hard not to hold his breath and prepare for the worst.

“We came along to make sure you stayed safe, not the other way around.” Muarim reminded Tormod as they settled in for another night’s rest. “Whether we reach your friend or not, he’ll learn the results of our investigation soon enough.”

While a solid chunk of wisdom, something about Muarim’s words rattled around in Tormod’s head when he took the first watch. Given the rate imperial messengers traveled, they might beat the news only by a week or so. Pride alone couldn’t trump simple math and logistics.

On instinct, he reached down and pulled out the letter he received a little over a month ago. The chicken-scratch penmanship was muddled to the point of incomprehension, but even now he could make out the fine quality of the parchment and the simple signature at the bottom.

—I’m counting on you, Sothe

By the end of the war, he knew his irresistible charm had started to wear down the quiet little grump. Sothe had started to chuckle a bit at his jokes and stopped shaking off his touch whenever Tormod slung an arm around him. But once the fighting was over for good and they received their wages from General Ike, Sothe disappeared without another word. Even if work with the Apostle hadn’t consumed most of Tormod’s waking hours, he had no clue how he was supposed to track down a guy like that, or if Sothe even wanted to be found.

For him to be the one to reach out, and from the base of another Liberation Army, he couldn’t ignore that, could he?

Tormod looked up to see both Muarim and Vika curled up against the foot of a large tree. As cozy as they looked, he chose to stay on his side of the dwindling fire. If they were ambushed, he could distract any bandits so they’d chase him instead.

He could already hear Muarim scolding him for coming up with such a reckless plan. While at this point he’d be more concerned if the old tiger wasn’t worrying, Tormod wished Muarim would realize that he had learned how to take care of others from the best. He’d kept his promises, no matter what.

~

Of course, when they finally caught up with the Liberation Army, it was during the middle of a prison break.

Not that he was complaining, freeing prisoners was what he did best. Plus, considering these cells and restraints were only made to hold normal Beorc, his team ended up smashing them open in record time. If any of the prisoners noticed the claw and bite marks left behind, they were smart enough to keep the observation to themselves.

The only hiccup came when they reached the upper level and a dark shadow descended on the group. On instinct, he flipped for a fresh page of his tome, but the blur was faster than his fingers, closing the gap and—

“Hey!”

Tormod blinked, and messy green hair and a winding scarf came into focus.

“Sothe!” The dread transformed into relief and then outrage at such a dizzying speed, Tormod nearly saw stars. “You scurvy traitor!”

There’s not much time to exchange more than a few words confirming that yes, they did have news, and yes, how dare he grow taller than Tormod. But it was worth it to wait until they were back at the Liberation Base; otherwise, he wouldn’t have believed Sothe could smile so much.

“That’s just what we needed to hear. Can we depend on having you three around for at least a little while?”

“Just try getting rid of me!”

“I can only try!” Then the craziest thing happened. Sothe actually reached out to hug him. The gesture was so alien, Tormod had no wits to react with when it turned into a noogie.

Tormod broke free just in time to see Muarim badly attempt to stifle his laughter.

“Go catch up with your friend, little one.” He waved towards the mage girl standing next to him. “She’ll make sure we get settled safely.”

On any other evening, Tormod would have puffed his chest and insisted he wasn’t a kid having to be dropped off for playtime. But after weeks of travel, a break did sound nice.

“Alright then!” He slung an arm around Sothe, dragging him down a few inches. “Show me this fancy new army you’re running!”

As they trekked across camp, the weird giddiness started to fade away. Yet what lingered in the air was just as electric. Their path was aimless, stopping by the armory and checking up with old Mad King’s War buddies with equal frequency, but a prideful glint sparked in Sothe’s eye with each introduction he made, no matter how flat his tone might have been.

In general, he seemed to carry himself differently now. He had always been a nimble thing, but now there just seemed to be more control to his movements. The clenched hesitation from the war had evolved into a more subtle wariness. Still quiet, but not afraid to speak first or lead the conversation when it came time to grab their dinner from the canteen.

“Man, talk about growing up.” Tormod smirked as Sothe handed him a bowl of soup. “I’m glad I could be such a good role model for you.”

Sothe rolled his eyes. “I probably shouldn’t entertain whatever weird little story you have brewing, but I’ll bite.”

“Making friends? Fighting for the downtrodden? It’s clear I’ve had an influence on you.”

“I’m not one for causes.” Sothe shrugged. “If they stopped paying tomorrow, I’d be out of here within the hour.”

“Oh, come on! People don’t just join two armies by chance!” Tormod waved his spoon. “Whether you admit it or not, you’ve really changed.”

Sothe studied him with the same look he had when trying to pin down where a man kept his coin purse. But rather than make any attempts to swipe at him, Sothe just lifted his bowl to his face.

“And you’re exactly the same as ever.” As he slurped the last of its content, a lazy grin spread across his face.

“That’s it!” Tormod snapped his fingers. “That’s what’s so weird. You smile more now!”

Sothe’s eyes flitted open. “If you don’t want to bring up my height again, that’s a bad lie.”

“No, I mean it! It took me three entire months to get one out of you before. Now we’re up to two in one day.”

He didn’t expect to be stepping on any toes with more teasing, but rather than shoot off another bit of banter, Sothe grew really quiet. It was an unfamiliar kind of silence, the kind that made his insides shake.

“Well...” Sothe furrowed his eyebrows. “...maybe it’s because I’m not having the worst year of my life anymore.”

Tormod winced. Goddess, of course most people didn’t look back on the war fondly.

“How could it be the worst year of your life when you met me?” He spat out in a overdone sing-song voice.

To his credit, Sothe started to perk up a little. “You don’t think you’re the reason?” He shoved at Tormod’s shoulder in what should have been a playful gesture. But once more he was too caught off guard to brace himself, so both his soup and he went flying.

“Shit!” Sothe stood with a start, looking even taller now that Tormod was face down in the dirt.

“If you’re gonna treat me like that, I hope you know my services are gonna cost extra next time!” It was hard to gauge how his punchline hit with a layer of broth and veggies blinding him, but he thought he heard a little grunt or something as Sothe helped him up.

“I’ll be sure to bill ya properly next time. For now, will another bowl do?”

“I’ll accept it.” Tormod made sure to smile extra goofily so Sothe wouldn’t think he was being sarcastic. They fell back into their games of barbs and jabs, but even on their third helping, he noticed Sothe never grinned again that night.

~

The rest of the week passed slowly.

The fact of any war was that when you weren’t dodging arrows or stuck in the medical tent, the biggest threat you faced was dying of boredom. The whiplash drove most new recruits crazy until they had more important things to worry about, but Tormod had always had a knack for making his own fun. Just cast a few spells in a crowded enough place and someone will stop by to watch. From there, all it took was the right conversation to transform an audience member into a friend.

But that second magic was hard to grasp in Daein. Most of the younger recruits were friendly enough, but once they got past discussing the food and weather, the conversation would turn bitter, with grievance after grievance building off each other. While they wouldn’t be fighting if there wasn’t anything left to fix, it still made his skin prickle when he heard them reminiscing about the pre-war days.

Sometimes it was left at that; sometimes they tried to lighten the mood by asking more about him, but either way, it always left a bad taste in Tormod’s mouth. Most days, it was simpler just to stay back with Muarim and Vika on the outskirts of the camp. But they made it too easy for him to run his mouth, and by the end of the week, Vika started groaning and asking for at least fifteen minutes of silence.

“Don’t tie yourself down when you don’t have to.” Muarim would say with a pat of the head. “Enjoy the time you have to spread your wings.”

There was such gentleness to his word, it seemed stupid to argue that “No clearly, I am having a blast staring at this piece of canvas.” So when Zihark stopped by to drop off some rations, Tormod flapped right behind him.

“If you’re so starved for attention, come to our King’s Court nights.” Zihark conceded as he polished his sword. “As long as you bring some gold to gamble, you’ll make plenty of friends.”

“Can you call them friends if they just want your coin?” Tormod picked up Zihark’s bag of sword powder and fiddled with its strings.

“I sell my sword; can’t fault anyone for trading their ear for a drink.” Zihark plucked the bag from Tormod’s hands before he had time to react. “Besides, when has someone not wanting you around ever stopped you before? How else did you get Sothe to tolerate you?”

Tormod rubbed the back of his neck, trying to keep from asking about him like some moony-eyed schoolgirl. “He seemed busy here, and I figured it would be best to wait for him to drop by when he was free.”

“Hmm,” Zihark dragged the cloth all the way down to the hilt of his blade. “Don’t let me discourage you from learning a bit of patience, but waiting for an invitation to bother someone rarely ever works.”

“I didn’t come here to be a pest.” Tormod snatched up Zihark’s empty sheath and tested its weight. “I want to be allowed to help for once.”

Zihark looked up from his sword, and for a moment there was something cold and mechanical to his gaze, like a watchmaker pulling apart its creation gear by gear.

“Stop playing with my things.” For as gruff as his words were, there was something gentle about the way he wrestled free the sheath from Tormod’s hands. “And if you get tired of waiting for your suitor to call, he’s usually trailing Micaiah as her little shadow.”

Tormod scrunched his nose as he tried to remember who that was. Sounded like a girl’s name. “Shouldn’t he have more important things to do?”

“See, there you go, that’s a reason to talk to him.” Zihark pushed himself up. “I’m done babysitting, though.”

Tormod considered taking the chance to swipe at the pair of gloves left behind in Zihark’s seat. But this time he was quicker than him and shot an awfully ugly look before taking off. Sometime like caution finally started to sink in.

But to his credit, Tormod didn’t immediately slink off for Sothe. It was only after another two days of slow nothing in particular that he decided he had waited long enough to deserve a quick update on the next mission. Carefully, he traced the path towards the center of the camp, trying to figure out a way to keep his eyes peeled without having to risk running into that creepy tactician.

Just when he was worried he would have to start sneaking past a few flaps, he caught a trailing scarf peeking out between the war room and general quarters. On instinct, Tormod dove behind a nearby tent and waited to see what would emerge. And sure enough, after a few minutes, that silver haired mage girl Muarim had talked with stepped out, hair frazzled, and hurriedly glancing everywhere but back. It took another minute or so for Sothe to poke his head out, but the discretion didn’t keep Tormod from pouncing on him almost right away.

“Psst,” he whispered out as he slung his arm around his neck. “If we bolt now, we can probably make it to the next town by sunset.”

It was the kind of irreverent joke that he expected to get dismissed with an old, familiar groan, but instead there was nothing but tense, clenched silence.

Tormod tried to steady his racing pulse. “Blink twice if you’re buried beneath way too much paperwork.” He pivoted to Sothe’s other side to at least get him to face him, but golden eyes simply stared ahead with a razor’s edge.

“What do you know?” In contrast to his glare, Sothe’s words were painfully soft.

“Nothing.” Tormod took the time to slide off Sothe and give him some space. “Give me the latest plans. I’m raring to go wherever you send me.”

Sothe crossed his arms, his jaw set and firm. For the first time in his life, Tormod wondered if he had gotten too used to antagonizing people who specialized in stabbing others.

“We’ve got another rescue mission planned, but we can’t pull in official Liberation troops for it. Think you can step in?”

“Sure!” Tormod stepped back, prepared to wait for the ice to melt before pushing for further explanation. But in the brief moments he looked away, Sothe slipped by, disappearing again without another word.

~

The rest of the mission details came in hastily scribbled notes. We’re leaving tomorrow at sunrise. Hope you don’t mind getting dirty. Be prepared for an ambush.

To be honest, waiting in a swamp wouldn’t have been his first choice when looking for ways to assist the war efforts, but the prep time it took to get everyone where they needed to be gave him the chance to stretch his investigation muscles again. When there was lots of hustle and bustle, people usually let a few nosy questions slide by.

It didn’t take all that much effort to dig up that the Silver-Haired Maiden even peasants raved about was that same girl he had seen with Sothe. To be honest, it was hardly a secret; probably should have figured it out earlier. Just even with the hair color it was hard to see her as some goddess or saint or something. It wouldn’t have been the first time a legend didn’t live up to their tall tales, but the more he asked about her, the strangeness started to trickle in.

Like the fact that she had only recently joined with the Liberation Army yet had come to head it almost instantly. Or that some claimed she could heal others without even touching a staff.

“There’s just something about her that puts me on edge.” Vika confessed as they waited for their sign to attack.

“You shouldn’t talk about her like that.” Muarim shook his head. “She’s a kind person and hasn’t given us any reason to doubt her.”

It was hard to argue against Muarim when he got all sentimental like that, so Tormod kept quiet. But he couldn’t help but notice that the Maiden’s rise in power would have lined up with the same time-frame as Sothe sending out his letter.

Their signal came soon after, so the three of them flew into a flurry of claws, talons, and fire. But whenever there was a lull in the action, Tormod couldn’t help but let his attention drift to the front of the pack. Just like in camp, Sothe stuck to Micaiah’s side with a priest’s faithfulness. Each flash of light was followed by a knife strike, and when an enemy came to attack, he’d dance in front to shield her from harm.

Even if she was a kind person, he had to know how she ended up pulling Sothe’s strings so tightly.

They win, as expected. But something about this victory seemed to set the entire base on fire. He didn’t know what was different about this prison break, but when people started pulling out the beer and ale, he knew that this could be his chance. He let Vika and Muarim take care of themselves and dove into the party.

Tormod usually wasn’t one for the taste of alcohol, but he worked up a buzz to make the crowds more tolerable. Besides, there was a rhythm to investigations. You couldn’t just immediately run up to your target. So he stayed back for the first hour or so, biding his time.

Then, as the energy of the celebrations started to pick up, he made his move. “Where’s the maiden of the hour?” He asked the nearest soldier. The best she could give was a shrug, but it was exactly the kind of answer Tormod wanted. He let their chitchat fade so that he could slink over to another group. “We need to thank our hero tonight, shouldn’t we?” More murmurs, but no definite answers. Whenever he found someone new, he made sure to pump them with that same question. “Where could the Silver-Haired Maiden be?”

When he started to hear his own words repeated back in the conversations of passersby, he knew now was the time to strike. “Bring out the Silver-Haired Maiden!” He yelled before ducking back into the crowd. A few rallying cries followed behind, but he waited until he had made it to the other side of the clearing before repeating it again. After the fifth or so cheer, the call grew legs of its own. It was real satisfying for him to watch, but it was also probably what allowed him to let his guard down enough to get jumped.

He wrestled against his captor, falling free only once they were back on the outskirts of camp.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Sothe glared down at him with a simmering rage.

“What the hell are you doing?” He tried to stand, but Sothe pressed his foot against Tormod’s shoulder, pinning him down.

“Are you drunk? No, this is the kind of plan you’d come up with completely sober—”

“What’s so weird about wanting to celebrate at a party?” Tormod rolled away so that he could finally push himself up. “Miccy should have some fun too.”

Sothe scrunched his nose. “Don’t call her that.”

“Then why can’t Miss Silver-Haired Maiden take some time to grace the common-folk with her presence?” Tormod waved his hands in an imitation of a Begnion senator.

“Don’t act like this is just about tonight. You’re not exactly subtle when you want to get into other people’s business.”

“What crimes have I committed!?” Tormod could tell he was yelling, but it was hard to rein in the heat building in his face. “Am I supposed to wait at your beck and call, never getting to know anyone else on my own? What could be so wrong with wanting to know more about the leader of the army you dragged me to join?!”

“Don’t cause Micaiah any trouble.” Sothe stepped forward with a dangerous look in his eyes. “I don’t have time to babysit you as well, so just...” He seemed to waver between something tame and something unspoken. “...don’t.”

Tormod could feel the last bits of his self-control starting to fray. “What’s your deal?” This time, he sounded so much weaker than he wished he could be.

Something sarcastic started to twist at the edges of Sothe’s lip. “What happened to having that all figured out?”

He was the first to leave again. Not that it changed anything, but it left Tormod feeling somehow more alone than before. From the noise the party made, maybe they did get their beloved savior to appear, but it is hard for him to work up the effort to care. Whatever warmth and ease he felt had been drained dry, so he turned for their tent. Once there, Vika informed him that Muarim had to turn in early to sleep off a headache. So Tormod planned to wait until the next morning before suggesting they hightail it out of there before things got worse.

But then, when he woke up to growls of pain, any plans Tormod could have conjured flew right out the window.

~

The fact that Muarim kept his mind after the drug incident was a blessing Tormod couldn’t ignore, but just knowing that didn’t do anything to lessen the ball of dread that had taken root in his chest. For the next few days, the only way he could keep from going crazy was to stay by Muarim’s side and keep an eye on him.

For once, the three of them were all in agreement. When he was conscious, Muarim seemed to appreciate the company, and Vika took things further by spending most of her waking hours sitting out guard outside the tent. This time she made no effort to hide her wings when Beorc passed by.

“Let her work out her rage in her own way.” Muarim responded when Tormod brought up the risks of such a maneuver. “I suspect our presence no longer needs to be hidden so thoroughly.” He made the observation with the same neutrality someone would use when commenting on the weather, but it was hard for Tormod not to take it personally. If he had done his job of looking out for them, then they never would have been in this position in the first place.

But for all his magic, he couldn’t turn back time, and for all his fire, Tormod knew that he shouldn’t burn this place down, so he had to figure out his own way to quell his anger as well. And for the most part, the best bet seemed to be to keep running.

Maybe it was the kind of coward’s choice he would have faulted in others, but when Micaiah and that prince came to apologize again for the incident, he just couldn’t stand to stay and listen. Her cloying pity might have been sincere, but it couldn’t make up for his spineless passivity that night. Tormod knew the best way to keep from demanding Izuka’s head was to simply step out and let Muarim decide what to do with the apology.

In general, Tormod didn’t know what to do with this army. For all his promises, he didn’t know if he’d be able to fight for a cause that had almost taken away his dearest friend. Even if it had been just one man who hurt Muarim, he didn’t know how he could look at any Daein soldier and not see the same killer when push came to shove.

He didn’t like the idea of leaving this sort of hatred festering in his chest, but he didn’t know what else to do with it. So he kept watch with Vika, rested with Muarim, and only left when necessary to get their rations.

“Hey,” A sudden nudge at his shoulder shouldn’t have had him wanting to swing a fist, but it was only recognition that kept him from going for it.

“Think of warmth, not destruction,” he chided himself. “Hey!” Tormod returned, the edges of his face straining to fit a smile.

As usual, Sothe was less concerned with niceties, missing the entire sad attempt as he scanned the rations line. “What are you doing?”

Tormod raised an eyebrow. “Getting food, shouldn’t take divination to figure that out.”

“I mean after you eat.” There was a hint of something rushed in his reply, like a messenger trying to look busy after goofing off in front of their superior. “I need to practice my throwing skills. Wanna run through some drills together?”

Tormod could practically hear warning chimes ring in his mind. “Muarim’s doing bad enough as is. I don’t need to return to them with a knife sticking out of my forehead.”

Sothe blinked in silence for a moment. Then as the words sunk in, he furrowed his brow and hissed, “I wasn’t planning to use you as a dummy!”

“Just trying to stay safe. You’ve seemed kinda high-strung lately.”

The furrow turned into a frown. “What do I need to do to get you to move on from your Micaiah thing?”

Heat rushed to the tips of Tormod’s ears. Shit, this wasn’t the type of fire he had wanted to channel. “Listen...” He took a deep breath, hoping it would keep him from having to swallow the rest of his pride. “You don’t have to do anything for me. Really, I should be the one waiting on you hand and foot.”

This time, he wasn’t forcing goodwill. Even if their previous argument hadn’t been dwarfed by much more serious and important things, he had gotten his answer. The Silver-Haired Maiden wasn’t some magical healer. She had been just as lost and confused as any Beorc when faced with a feral Laguz. The only saviors there had been that night were Sothe, his quick thinking, and the eldest Heron prince.

“I think even Makalov would make a better manservant than you.” Sothe words shook him from his thoughts.

“Wow!” Tormod recoiled. “Might as well just slit my throat if you’re going there.”

“You’re the one thinking I’d ever want to be some stuck-up noble.” Sothe combed his bangs back the same way an old schoolmaster might. Probably was just as exhausted as him with all this not-arguing.

“I gotta keep an eye on Muarim, really.” Once Tormod admitted that, the rest came falling out. “I’m not making excuses, I really would polish your boots if I had to, I just can’t—”

Sothe shut him up with a sudden whack to the head. This one wasn’t so strong as to knock him over again, but the oddity of it all still stunned him into silence.

“Gotta work on your reflexes if you’re trying to keep track of stuff.” This time he seemed more like a student reciting a poem he had memorized.

Tormod stared at Sothe and wondered if wartime camaraderie had made him miss if he had always been like this.

The serving woman at the front of the canteen yelled something about a pipsqueak, and this time he didn’t mind the dig at his height.

“I gotta get deliver this back to the others.” He turned to grab his share and wondered if he’d have to dodge blows while juggling three sacks of grub.

The fact Sothe didn’t stick around long enough to wait for a goodbye somehow stung worse than the welt.

~

When news of the inspection team reached Daein, Tormod felt some of his usual self return to him. Brooding wasn’t his style, and truly, he was happy for Daein to start to see some peace. But as talks of feasts and celebrations bubbled up, a different sort of relief started to take center stage. Rather than look forward to the festivities, he found himself longing for home above all else.

The Empire wasn’t perfect, but he knew what to expect from it. And once they were back, Vika could wander more freely, Muarim wouldn’t have to check his meals anymore, and he’d know that even if others looked on at him in disgust, they’d at least be able to understand that they were family.

A night of dance and drink would be a good note to end on. Then, as dawn approached, the three of them could leave without rocking the boat any further.

He really tried to have a good time. He ate his own weight in food and joined in with the war ballads. It wasn’t fair that this time he wasn’t the one to point out that the Silver Haired Maiden wasn’t around, and that this time not even the higher ups could locate her.

A search party was organized in a flash, but it didn’t leave much for the rest of them to do. And with no victory left to celebrate, it didn’t take long for the crowd to start getting restless. Tormod knew how Beorc got when they needed a villain to bring to heel, and so he started going over escape routes in his head. But before he could put anything into motion, a clear voice rose above the crowd.

“I’m starting up a game of King’s Court if anyone wants to join!” Zihark stepped forward as if he were simply announcing a change in dinner plans. He lingered long enough for people to connect him with the call but drifted back into the crowd before anyone could question him further. The only way to figure out what he had planned was to follow him.

So naturally, Tormod took off like a bolt after him.

He was so caught up in the chase of it all that it took him until they were all but outside his tent before he realized Zihark’s destination.

“What are you thinking?!” Tormod hissed as he cut in front of Zihark. “You need to leave now before—”

“—Muarim asked this of me.” Zihark coolly responded. “He said next time I hosted a game, he wanted to be included.”

“I don’t think he meant at a time like this!” Tormod pushed himself up a little higher. He could already see a few of the men peel away from the group as they realized just where they were.

“If you don’t trust me, you can ask him yourself.” Zihark rested a hand against his hip, drawing Tormod’s attention to the blade resting there. That lit a fuse. Tormod whipped his head back up, ready to rip into Zihark for threatening an old friend, but it was only then that he noticed that the motion had also drawn the attention of the rest of the group.

Suddenly, it occurred to him who the gesture might have been for.

“Ok...” Slowly, he ducked inside the tent. Both Vika and Muarim were already sitting up and expecting him, wings fluttering and ears pulled back. “Umm...Zihark has some guests for us?”

“It’s King’s Court night, isn’t it?” From the look on his face, he must have heard every word they spoke and then some. “Sounds entertaining. Let’s welcome them.”

Tormod waved Zihark in, and a stream of soldiers flowed through. Once they were all settled, they had about twelve bodies crammed into their tent. Because he didn’t want to lose his spot next to Muarim, Tormod ended up getting dealt a hand. But he didn’t really absorb any of the rules or much of the game because he was more concerned with following the crowd.

Two or so women clearly had never seen a Laguz from the way they watched Muarim’s tail swish back and forth. It was unlikely he didn’t notice their attention, but he kept his eyes firmly focused on his cards. Later, one of the gals started to study Vika, who was seated outside the game’s circle, but the glare she returned was enough to make the soldier bury her face in her hand.

Meanwhile, three or so men seemed determined to go the whole night without making eye contact with either Muarim or Tormod. At some point the rules demanded they all swap hands, and one of that group only made the switch because he pressed his cards to the ground and pushed them across to Tormod.

But the rest of them just acted like any other group of gamblers, throwing around their pocket change. Tempers flared quickly but died down just as fast. The loudest voices were the most likely to yell for someone to be taken down a peg but also provoked the most cheers when they faced defeat. And between every big win or foolish bet, Zihark conducted them all with an uncanny charisma. Even Tormod found himself temporarily carried away by a particularly funny story about another merc who had wandered the entire continent yet couldn’t locate any of the countries on a map.

By the time news came back of Micaiah’s return, Tormod had lost about five silver pieces. But he was happy to see the rest of the soldiers fall over themselves to be the first to leave. In the matter of minutes, the tent emptied until the only visitor that remained was Zihark as he tried to piece together his scattered deck.

“Well, that was fun.” He almost resembled a Tiger Laguz with the way he agilely pushed him to stand.

“Next time you’re in the Empire, I’ll treat you to dinner.” Muarim leaned forward and offered his hand. Zihark gave a hearty shake and made his exit. But before he could figure out why, Tormod found himself chasing him once more.

“Wait!” This time he waited for Zihark to turn around and acknowledge his hand tugging at his coat. Tormod expected to get another earful about touching things that weren’t his, but Zihark was surprisingly unaffected as he regarded him.

“How do you do it?”

He expected such a weak question to be brushed off with a pointed jab, but instead Zihark glanced to the side with a pensive look.

“People are always people, even if they aren’t particularly good. Give them something to entertain themselves with, and they’ll either enjoy it or work out whatever they’re on about somewhere else.”

When he returned to their tent, Vika cut in with, “that could have gone really bad.” She breathed hard, as if it had hurt to keep the thought to herself for so long.

“It could have.” Muarim replied. What he left unsaid spoke enough for him.

That night, as he tried to calm down enough to get a few hours of sleep, he kept circling back around a particular memory of trying to get a moping childhood friend to play tag with him. When he recalled how he pulled on her tail and had to spend the rest of the day sitting on his own, his eyes flew open in realization.

He really couldn’t figure out who was the bigger idiot.

“Hey?” Despite the darkness, he could sense Muarim start to stir at his question. “Can we put off leaving for just a bit longer?

The next morning, he found a haggard looking Sothe staring blankly at the morning fire.

“Hey!” Tormod wacked him on the head, earning a handful of curses and Sothe’s full attention. “Show me those training drills you were talking about?”

Exhausted anger transformed into something like baffled surprise. It was kinda cute that he could still draw out that look from him after so long.

“I’ll get you about an hour before supper.” Sothe knitted his eyebrows, clearly running some mental calculations through his head. And for the first time in a long time, Tormod realized he could pick out some of the scrawny little thing he had first met all those years ago.

~

Sothe was frustratingly true to his word. When he came to Tormod, he was all but ready to drag him out of the tent.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Tormod swatted away Sothe’s killer grip. “Give a guy a chance to wake up fully!”

Considering how rough he still looked, maybe he was jealous that Tormod got to laze about for an afternoon. He got one more good smack in before finally letting Tormod go.

“Have fun.” Muarim waved goodbye, unable to hide the edge of amusement that crinkled around his eyes.

And it was an immediate improvement not to be hit anymore, but Tormod wouldn’t describe that as fun. Boredom better fit most of their journey out of camp, with the lightest bit of stimulation finally peaking through when they reached an abandoned pasture.

“So what’s this drill you have all planned?” While the change in scenery was nice, he still wasn’t sure what the point of visiting what looked to be an abandoned homestead was. Wild grasses ran high, and a sad little fence lay in disrepair.

“I throw knives. You sling spells.” Sothe grunted as he emptied out a few empty bottles from a sack slung around the post. Carefully, he lined them up across the last standing section of the fence. “Here, nobody can complain about us practicing our aim.”

From the way he had talked about it, Tormod had imagined flaming hoops and a tightrope. Still as quaint an exercise it was, it’d get the job done at least.

“So—” He pulled out a wind tome and waited until Sothe had finished placing all the bottles. “—do I do this?” He threw a wide, arcing gust that knocked the entire row over. Sothe shot back a dirty look.

“I’ll let you see how fast you can go through them.” Tormod stuck out his tongue in one last bit of playfulness before joining him in resetting the bottles.

“I’m not aiming for speed.” Sothe lifted a bottle to show the scratches lining its side. “Going up against unusual materials means having to rethink how you use leverage and force.” He placed it back along the fence and stepped back. “If I throw a knife like this—” He tossed one out, and it bounced harmlessly off to the side. “—nothing. Gotta aim it like this!” This time there was a bit of spin to the blade, and the bottle went flying.

“There we go!” Tormod pumped his fist. Quickly. he reopened the wind tome. “Let me try something!”

The bottom of Sothe’s lip twitched slightly, but ultimately he said nothing as he stepped back. Tormod took center stage, and as he conjured up a new gale, he focused on crafting it to be as thin as the target, closed his eyes, and let go.

The bottle rustled a bit but remained upright.

“Not so easy, is it?” This time Sothe didn’t even try and hide his smirk as he stepped up and took down another bottle.

“I’m doing pretty well for my first time!” Tormad’s pride returned to him in a frenzied rush. “Like, how often do you get out here?”

Sothe hummed for a moment as he twirled a dagger in his hands. “Well...” He drew his throwing arm in close. “...whenever I feel like murdering someone.” The dagger lodged itself into the underside of the fence. “Shit,” Sothe muttered. Somewhere far away, Tormod remembered they were having a conversation.

“Huh...” was his eloquent response. He remembered all the ways Muarim’s body twisted itself as it shifted between forms again and again. “...Izuka bothers you that much?”

“Yeah.” A second knife joined the first. Sothe cursed again before approaching the fence and returning them to his belt. “The Black Knight’s worse. Needs to be put back into his grave.”

Tormod’s eyes widen. “Since when has he left it?!”

“Last night.” From the way he spat out the words, Tormod figured there had to be an entire story behind it. But Sothe seemed stuck entirely in his head now. The only sign of life was the way his eyes followed the light reflecting off the last standing bottle.

Tormod didn’t like to think of himself as someone who looked forward to hunting down folks, but as much as Sothe creeped him out, a dangerously tempting vision had taken root in his mind.

“Here’s what we can do if we ever face him again.” Really, it was Izuka who he pictured doing this to, but as he pulled out his fire tome, he figured they probably both needed to let off some steam. The heat in his face that always came with anger started to travel down to his hands, melting into a burning need to know.

He knew with a snap of a finger he could ignite a fireball in his palm, but instead he held back and focused on the bottle. He breathed, and the fire ignited inside it.

In one moment, a rush of exhilaration flooded his body.

In the next, he finally remembered his target was made out of glass.

Tormod fell to the ground as Sothe crashed into him. Between the stars that followed and the shard that whizzed past his ear, his brain didn’t start working again until he felt a drop of something splash against his cheek.

Tormod looked up to see a thin gash cut across Sothe’s right temple.

“Shit!” Tormod pushed the two of them up. “Shit, shit!”

“I’m good, I’m good—” Sothe waved him away. “Just a head wound; they always look worse than they are.”

“I’m an idiot,” Tormod’s voice wavered. “There must be nothing between my ears. Can’t just put myself in danger, I gotta drag everyone else down.”

“Will you shut up if I give you a matching one?!” Sothe roared so suddenly that it nearly scared Tormod speechless.

“What’s done is done...” Sothe’s voice softened into something almost gentle. “... you are an idiot but there’s no use acting all guilty over it.”

Tormod had to open his mouth to make sure he breathed. “Ignoring it doesn’t fix anything. I shouldn’t be making dumb decisions like this anymore. I got people to take care of.”

Sothe pressed his hand against the gash. “How about you think of this as another training drill? I need to get better at protecting others.”

“I’ve given you enough practice as is.” Tormod flopped back against the ground. “Next time, you should let me explode myself.”

“It’s not enough.” Sothe looked as if he hadn’t heard a word Tormod said. The blood smeared as he ran his hand down the side of his face. “I need to be strong enough to take down the Black Knight. I need to show her I can protect her on my own.”

Somewhere between the broken glass and everything else that had gone wrong in this goddess-forsaken country, a puzzle piece snapped into place.

“Wait a minute.” Tormod angled himself up. “Micaiah...she’s like your Muarim, isn’t she?”

In all his time knowing Sothe, he had never seen him look so small and helpless.

“...yeah.”

Tormod sighed. When had learning become such a painful thing? “You did say you were looking for someone. Just thought it would be someone older than us.”

“She’s been with me almost my entire life.” Sothe pulled out a clump of grass. “I can’t give her more problems. Not anymore.”

This was way too many times in one trip to regret never learning how to wield a staff. Tormad couldn’t stand being this useless. “How did it happen?” He asked because he wasn’t sure what else to say.

Sothe fell back with an exhausted grunt. “She was just trying to be kind the only way she knew how. It was cold so it made sense, but when she held me I could feel her breasts and—”

If he said anything more, it was hard to catch with how Tormod’s entire body burned with embarrassment. She didn’t sound anything like Muarim.

“—I shouldn’t be complaining.” Sothe’s voice drifted back in. “I’m sorry for just talking about myself. I’m sorry for what happened to Muarim.”

Tormod didn’t know what to say. He wanted to tell him that friends should be able to talk about each other. He wanted to ignore what he had heard and go back to believing people weren’t that hard to understand. He wanted to tell him that he could die for him and still his debt would never be repaid.

“Let’s try to keep the bottles all in one piece this round,” was all he could string together.

That night, as he tried to get to sleep, he was haunted again by a faint memory of the past. But this time when he tried to grasp it, the only clarity he found was in the icy cold shivers that crept down his spine.

“Muarim?” Once more, he perked up at the mere mention of his name. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Of course, little one,” he murmured warmly.

As he scooched over to join him, Tormod’s mind wandered. He wondered if Sothe and Micaiah were doing the same. Tormod grimaced. No, if they were with each other, they might be doing more than just sleeping together.

“Sleep tight.” Muarim wrapped his arm around Tormod’s shoulder, and despite its roughness, the weight brought a sense of comfort as well.

Tormod leaned into Muarim’s side. “You sleep tight too.”

~

There was one more fight left for the Liberation Army, and so Tormod figured there was one more fight left in them as well. Vika grumbled something about making up his mind, but it was the kind of complaining he couldn’t help but agree with. Even if their next mission was to save a litter of puppies, they had to move on to their own lives eventually.

But for now, there was still a war to win, and even if this might not be the best time to make a social call, he didn’t know when he’d get another chance to do this. So with two hours until departure and Sothe spotted occupied at the convoy, Tormod let himself into Micaiah’s tent.

He didn’t know what he expected to find, but it wasn’t for it to be so similar to theirs, minus the silver-haired maiden curled up with a pad in hand.

“How are we looking on lances? I think if we—” She looked up and flinched. “—oh, pardon me. I thought you were someone else.”

“Hello!” He wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands, so he gave a little wave. “I know you must be busy and all, but I wanted to see if you had a few minutes to chat with me.”

Micaiah gathered her fist against her chest. “You must see this as an important issue to come at a time like this. What is it that I can help you with?”

Tormod blinked. Out of all the responses he expected, somehow such a direct one had slipped his notice.

“I guess I’ll be blunt. I wanted to talk about Sothe.” Tormod held his breath and prayed he wasn’t stepping into any unknown war-zones.

Micaiah’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, I’m so glad he has a friend. He’s told me a lot about you since you’ve arrived.”

“Huh—” Tormod raised an eyebrow. “—Sothe telling a lot?”

“Well, maybe a lot for him.” Micaiah gave a quiet giggle to herself. “I know you two traveled together during the war. He said you wouldn’t stop pestering him until he finally said a word back.”

“That’s accurate at least.” Whatever script he had come in with was lost to him now. Talking ears of folks was his strong suit but for some reason it was the normalcy of it all that left him useless.

“Listen...” Tormod cradled his temple. “...are you like his mom or his girl?”

All that good cheer that had seemed to flow so effortlessly from her evaporated in an instant. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not trying to be insulting, but I know my limits, and maybe I’m not an expert on mothers, but like, most people can guess a little, you know?” This was a strategy he was used to. As long as he kept talking, the words would somehow find their way out. “But I don’t know anything about girls, and I don’t want to make things worse.”

“Well, I’m curious now. What would you define as worse than this?”

Tomord narrowed his eyes. From anyone else, that would sound like a jab, but with how fervently she stared at him, he couldn’t be sure.

“This isn’t anything he told me to tell you, so don’t hold it against him. I just know that winning a war is exciting business. With all the celebrations and stuff, it can be easy for a quiet guy like that to slip between your fingers. I don’t want that to happen again.”

Micaiah looked like she either wanted to disappear or for him to. “...I agree with the sentiment. I don’t want to let it happen again.”

“I’m not accusing you of wanting it to happen or something.” Goddess, he couldn’t afford to personally piss off the general of the entire army. “Sothe just likes to do things on his own. But that doesn’t mean you’re not the most important person to him in the world. Like even I can tell that.”

He must be on the right track now, because her amber eyes started to soften a little. While it still wasn’t comfortable to have to bear the intensity of her gaze, surely if she had tolerated him for this long, something must be sinking in.

“I can tell this comes from someplace sincere.” Micaiah started to look down at her pad. “I’ll keep that in mind; however, do know that I’m going to have to charge you with treason for speaking against a commanding officer like this.”

“What!” He whipped his head forward. “I’m not even—I was just trying—” It was only then that he caught her expression. She wore Sothe’s clever smirk like it had always been her own.

“I’m sure he wrote to you knowing this was one of your strengths. He deserves his own powerful allies he can call upon.”

“I’m not trying to be some ace up his sleeve.” Tormod waved his hands. “Just trying to be a half decent friend.”

“I need to return to my strategy preparations, but yes, even I can tell.”

~

Somehow he survived the conversation and made it back to Muarim and Vika. Once that was secured, surviving the final battle was a piece of cake. So was winning it. After all he had seen the Liberation Army do, he hadn’t doubted it, but they celebrated with the same enthusiasm they would have for their first win.

In the end that didn’t matter though, as long as the third’s party was the charm. While the rest of the army made feasting plans, Muarim focused on packing supplies for the road, and Vika talked about the things she missed from the Empire.

He sent a message to Sothe, saying they needed to talk. He didn’t want to make his goodbyes too early or over parchment, but that seemed enough for him to pick up was going on. Tormod didn’t expect Micaiah to come along or for her to somehow not figure out what was going on. But even as she started to get all emotional about it, he couldn’t hold it against her. In his head, he wondered if one day they could be friends as well.

“Tormod?” He looked up to see Sothe step forward, looking like a lost little kid in the crowd.

“Hey.” They hadn’t talked since that night with the bottles, so Tormod wasn’t quite sure what to expect. “Listen...you can write me whenever you need me again. Forget what I said about bills and stuff.”

A flicker of amusement passed over his face. “You’re not gonna try to run me out of house and home with meal costs?”

“Of course I am, but that’s just part of having guests,” Tormod grinned. “Really you can even write to me even if you just need someone to burn through the rest of your rations or if you just feel like it.”

Getting all torn up now would just be a hassle for both of them, so he offered his hand and hoped it was a good enough peace offering.

Sothe stared at it like it had just grown there. “Huh...” He hummed to himself. “...that’s...it’s good.” He gave a firm nod, as if agreeing with himself. “that’s good you’ll come to help us.” He lifted his own hand, but rather than shake Tormod’s he rubbed it against the back of his neck. “...thanks.”

Tormod stared at him. He tried to say something mature and composed, but when he opened his mouth, a sharp laugh clawed itself out instead.

“Thankng me? Now you’re gonna make me weepy.”

A look of betrayal struck Sothe. Then in transformed into anger. “You little—”

He still didn’t like that their height difference left such perfect room for a noogie, but this time he was thankful he wouldn’t have to be the first to let go.

[daughterhouse]

"are you sure you don't want me to bring you anything, megumi?"

satoru stretches his back out, phone to his ear as he listens to the dry coughs on the other side. megumi has picked something up overnight and called to let gojo know he wouldn't be in class for the day.

"i'm fine. i just want to be alone. sleep it off."

gojo smiles, and hums into the phone. "it's been going around... you're not the only one off sick. maybe you should go see shoko..."

"no—i'm fine. i'm just going to rest, okay?"

gojo snorts. "oooookay..."

megumi hangs up on him and satoru can only feign offence for a moment before suguru is pushing between his shoulder blades and guiding him further into the city. "i still don't think spying on them is what we should be doing. he's a teenager, they lie—god knows we weren't saints at their age. maybe—"

"shhhhhhhh!" satoru points in the direction of the movie theatre, where a certain spiky-haired-fushiguro leads you in, hand-in-hand as the high school sweethearts satoru had begged megumi to tell him you were. "i knew it!"

there you two were, his two 'sick' students, the image of cute together. he watches as megumi rests his hand on your back and listens to something you say—and for the first time in a very long time, satoru watches his boy's lips curl up into the realest smile he's ever seen.

"are you... tearing up?" suguru cringes from beside him, but satoru waves him off dramatically.

"they grow up so fast!"

[cutieln4]

"Slut!" | LN4 smau

lando norris x reader

summary: lando has a reputation of always bringing different girls home. somebody changes that

fc: random pinterest girls

f1gossip

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f1gossip Lando Norris caught kissing yet another girl! That’s the 3rd different one this week! Will his partying habits affect his driving?

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username1 W H O R E����🫵

username2 statistically, with all the girls he’s taking home, i have a chance

username3 yeah, no

username4 hey! so this is actually insane!

username5 how about we mind our business??

username6 This generation would not survive f1 drivers from 15 years ago

username7 fr the scandals back then💀

username8 why tf would this effect his driving???

ln4fanpage

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ln4fanpage pics of lando partying! from just this week alone😬

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username1 he’s so insane for this

username2 SIR YOUR TITS ARE OUT🗣️

username3 the shirt, the hair, the necklaces

username4 lord have mercy🤤

username5 HELLO??? I CANT BREATHE

username6 very mindful, very demure

username7 erm not really…

yourusername

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yourusername update on my puppy: still cute🤗

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yourbff aww she’s so cuteee i miss her

friend1 so adorable!

friend2 bring her over!!

yourusername

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yourusername i 🩷 pink

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yourbff i 🩷 u

friend1 so so pretty

friend2 cutieeee

yourusername

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yourusername that was fun! even managed to get a cute boys number after spilling coffee all over him🤗

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yourbff you had no idea what was going on the whole time

yourusername but it was still fun!! thanks for the free hat!

friend1 okay girl you got rizz

friend2 ughh so jealous😍

landonorris

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landonorris WOOHOOO P3!! Thank you Silverstone! You’ve been good to me😊

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username1 still not over that outfit

username2 cutie patootie

yourbff wish i got the chance to meet you😔

username3 not the charles leclerc driving pose💀

oscarpiastri Congrats mate!

username4 i love 444🥰

username5 he’s so—AHHHAJPKCJDUSNS

username6 GIMME the bucket hat

username7 the. out. fit.

landonorris added to their story

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danielricciardo they grow up so fast🥺

maxverstappen1 You just broke a million teenage girls’ hearts

username1 NOOOOOOOO

username2 how could you do this to me??? what about the kids??

yourusername added to their story

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yourbff why you soft launching the same time as lando norris💀

landonorris added to their story

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username1 WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH LANDO NORRIS? FLOWERS??

danielricciardo her puppy is the dog version of you

username2 SHUT UP DID YOU GET A DOG

username3 THAT PUPPY IS SO CUTEEEE

username4 nah no way bro actually got a gf

username5 you’ve changed smh. bring back party lando😔✊

yourusername

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yourusername look at this cutie

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yourbff happy for you🫶

friend1 THAT’S YOUR MAN??

landonorris

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landonorris finally found the one for me🧡 (thanks for spilling coffee on me)

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username1 she’s adorable stop

username2 okay but what’s her puppy’s name?

yourusername pickles!

username2 STOP THATS SO CUTE

username3 i love her already

yourusername my sweetheart🫶🥰

username4 WAIT SO THAT PIC IN SILVERSTONE OF WITH THE BIG STAIN ON HIS SHIRT WAS WHEN THEY MET??

username5 she tweeted when it happened and it’s so funny, she had no clue who he was💀

maxfewtrell Congrats mate

danielricciardo About time!

username6 aww she was the one girl who was able to change him for the better

username7 no it’s literally so cute he used to take different girls home every week and no one could change that until he met her🥹

username8 her twitter is hilarious she fr had to clue who he was

username9 gimme that puppy

username10 bye sleeping on a highway tonight

yourusername

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yourusername mine

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username1 OH MY GOD HES SO BABYGIRL

landonorris WHERE DID YOU GET THE LAST PHOTO

yourusername you're such a baby in it isn't it cute🥹

landonorris yes of course very cute😅

username2 con😭grats😭

yourbff you son of a bitch. you did it.

taglist: @evasmlp @partnerincrime0 @r0nnsblog @heavy-vettel @raizelchrysanderoctavius

Add yourself to my taglist here!

[novy2sirius]

MOON HOUSE CORE © novy2sirius

trigger warning: suicide, violence, eating, hypochondria, trauma, mental health issues ♡

this is just a random post abt things ppl with these placements could experience ♡

these r only abt isolated placements so take it with a grain of salt bc the whole chart matters ♡

a lot of these r experiences i’ve heard from my friends and ppl who’ve purchased readings from me directly ♡

moon in 1h core

not being able to hide ur emotions bc they’re literally evident on ur face, youthful beauty, constantly changing ur outlook on life depending on how u feel at the time, getting told u look young for ur age, getting mad bc boys/girls call u cute instead of hot, mothering everyone, likes to be pampered and babied, throws child-like fits if lower vibrational, being a lot like ur mom even tho sometimes u don’t wanna admit it, even if ur a boy having emotional responses like a teenage girl, growing up with parents that had anger issues so now u have anger issues, being asked if ur sad all the time by ppl when ur not even sad it’s just ur resting face, having a comforting aura, ur mood instantly being ruined the moment anything makes u insecure at all, looking good in light blue and white outfits

moon in 2h core

having a cute voice, wanting to spend all ur money bc u had a bad day and r emotional, eating bc u’re emotional af, ur comfort place being a restaurant/fast food spot, having a wife who brings lots of stability to ur life, having a good singing voice, feeling emotionally connected to inanimate objects such as ur stuffed animal, not feeling happy around ppl who bring instability to ur life, spending all ur money on things related to music/food, love language is gift giving and physical touch, not feeling loved by ur partner when they don’t hug u every second, feeling more comfortable around ppl who share the same values as u, only having a good work ethic when ur happy, caring abt ppl more when they spoil u with gifts

moon in 3h core

being extremely charming and able to persuade others easily, having a rly soft voice and being told u sound like a child, being scared to do anything when ur sibling/a companion doesn’t come with u, feeling more emotionally connected to ppl u share similar opinions/interests with, being more talkative around ppl when ur comfortable and quiet around random ppl, posting emo stuff on social media when u were in middle school, having a lot of the same interests as ur mom, being close with ur neighbors growing up and riding bikes with them around the neighborhood and selling lemonade on the side of the road, being obsessed with romance books

moon in 4h core

playing house a lot as a kid, either being rly close with ur mom or having extreme mommy issues, being obsessed with self care related things and not being able to go to sleep without doing ur skin care routine, being emotional just by existing, coming off as emotional even when ur not emotional, feeling deep emotion for ppl and feeling attached to them and then realizing that they don’t feel the same way bc u’ve literally only talked for a week and u just have a problem with getting attached to ppl easily, feeling most comfortable with people that make u feel feminine, being a talented nurse or realtor, having a very nurturing aura

moon in 5h core

having a lot of hobbies that don’t involve leaving ur house, being hot, ppl always telling u that u have celebrity/star vibes, having a bunch of creative ideas but being afraid to share them bc ur shy, being insanely dramatic and then later regretting it heavily, being a good actor, contemplating killing urself every time u got grounded as a kid bc ur dramatic, feeling happiest when ur by the ocean or water, being a hopeless romantic, falling in love w cancer placements but wishing u didn’t, loving mango/citrus flavored foods/drinks, being scared of violent video games and wanting to play sims or minecraft instead, being rly good with kids/kids naturally loving u, growing up with egotistical parents, rewatching the same films/shows over and over bc they bring u comfort

moon in 6h core

being able to tell how someone rly feels even when they try and hide it bc u can analyze ppl rly well, loves animals and feels better when they have an emotional support pet, love language is acts of service and gift giving, having rly bad anxiety any time u leave the house (and in general) these ppl r huge homebodies, being a hypochondriac and thinking ur gonna die every time u have a single bad physical health symptom and googling ur symptoms then becoming even more worried bc google says ur abt to have a heart attack, chronic overthinker

moon in 7h core

being rly charming and having a lot of secret admirers, being scared to come outside ur comfort zone without a companion/partner with u, being fruity af, making ur friends/lovers order food for u bc ur too shy to, wanting harmony/peace and hating when someone argues with u or tries to start conflict with u but unfortunately still managing to attract lots of enemies even when u try to avoid drama, being able to negotiate with others easily, trying to be nice to ppl and killing them with kindness and u still end up getting hurt, being attractive to society but insecure abt ur looks, feeling sad if u don’t look pretty at all times, moving to live near ur bf/gf bc ur too attached to be in a long distance relationship, hates hookup culture

moon in 8h core

being sexualized a lot, ppl randomly confiding in u abt their traumas when u didn’t even bring anything abt it up, not being able to hookup bc you’ll get too attached, having a lot of family trauma that has now affected u emotionally and made u rly defensive any time someone talks to u in a slightly off tone, being a witch, doing love spells on ur crush so they’ll like u, having dark humor, feeling like u wanna die on ur period and going insane and acting like another person and then when u go off it realizing how dramatic u were, getting a boob job, being sent d*ck/p*ssy pics a lot without even asking for them, getting inheritance from ur family, getting surgery when u were young, spiritually transforming the most when ur alone

moon in 9h core

wanting to leave ur home country and never come back, trying to run away as a kid and packing a bag then coming back bc ur scared after only getting half way down ur street, adapting to ur surroundings quickly and easily being influenced by others, having a closer connection with ur grandparents than ur actual parents, having good ethics and not vibing with ppl around u who don’t, having ur first romantic relationship in college, feeling more comfortable around cultures outside of ur own or feeling more emotionally connected to cultures outside of ur own, cutting out ppl quickly when they’re negative and when they don’t support ur plans in life, having a thing for athletic boys/girls

moon in 10h core

having a star-like quality, finding comfort in being a workhorse and working all the time and using it as a way to distract urself from all ur problems in life, feeling like life is meaningless if ur not constantly going out and doing things, trying to keep things private but they end up getting out anyway, having a reputation of being a softie, feeling closer to ur dad than ur mom or having extreme daddy issues no in between, leaving behind a legacy that inspires others and touches them emotionally, being talented in careers that r an emotional outlet for u

moon in 11h core

having a very friendly aura and being able to socialize well but still sometimes having a low social battery at the same time, having a lot of influence on others and attracting a lot of ppl that r fans of u, being easily influenced and sometimes easily manipulated, having a lot of mood swings, being emotionally unpredictable, fearing being alone/dying alone and ppl abandoning u, being able to social network rly well, being closer to a step/half parent than a biological parent, throwing the best house parties, forming closer emotional connections online than in real life, being closer to ur online friends than in person friends, having a deep desire for someone to just care abt u and give u attention

moon in 12h core

having a lot of dreams that weirdly predict things almost perfectly, being obsessed with the feeling of nostalgia but also hating it at the same time, having an ethereal beauty, using astrology as a way to get an explanation for ur trauma so u can feel more validated, falling into a deep depression every time u run out of shows to watch, imagining fake scenarios in ur head abt rly bad things happening and crying over it when ur bored, looking like a mermaid/man, dwelling on the past a lot, being able to mask rly well and pretend ur someone ur not and doing it sm to fit in that u don’t even know who u r anymore, struggling with mental health issues ever since u were a child and feeling like u were sad even as a kid but not knowing why, hearing ppl talk randomly when ur abt to fall asleep but no one’s there, having a lot of hidden enemies that u may have had a close emotional connection with before that end up stabbing u in the back, feeling alone even when ur not alone

comment if u want more of these 🗣️

[luvsupa]

BUT YOU’RE A …VAMPIRE?!

terrible summary: fucking the towns hottest college student—a bonus. . . he’s a vampire!

tags: vampire!choso x fem!reader, choso and reader are in college, reader babysits yuji, heavily inspired by tvd 🙂‍↕️, lowkey long before smut scene sorryyy, smut (p in v), face sitting, mating press, blōod play, sqūirting, feral choso, sub!choso (a little), hes insanely fast and strong, errmm idk what else, mdni

w.c: 2.3k

a/n: 1. TY GUYS FOR 1.5K ???? THIS IS INSANEEE, 2. I hope u guys enjoy bc this is my first kinktober so I hope I satisfy y’all 🧟‍♀️

kinktober masterlist

“this movie’s not even scary,” yuji mutters from under the blankets, trying to hide the tremble in his voice. he begged you to play halloween, the most gruesome movie you’ve ever seen. maybe it wasn’t the best idea for a teenage boy—he’d probably have nightmares—but you just wanted him to stop whining. you giggle as he shrieks when michael myers catches a screaming woman, his eyes glued to the screen despite his words.

suddenly, the movie pauses, and you glance up from your phone, wondering why. “can you do my halloween makeup now? megumi’s coming soon, and we’re going trick-or-treating,” yuji asks, hopeful. you sigh internally, not because of him, but because this isn’t how you planned to spend your halloween. midterms are next week, and you haven’t even started studying!

you nod, grabbing your makeup bag already packed with halloween supplies. yuji sits in the dining room—where the lighting is better—facing the television. he’s jumpy as the movie resumes, flinching at every scare, ruining the makeup more than once. you’re just applying fake blood to his mouth to piece together the vampire look when the front door slams open, the sound deafening. you both scream, your heart pounding as your eyes dart toward the source.

choso.

you nearly drop the makeup brush, fake blood splattering the polished floor. choso’s laughter echoes through the room, and you stare at him in shock, your heart racing from the scare—and the sight of him. you haven’t seen him in nearly a year since he moved abroad for school. you thought your crush on him had faded, but now, seeing him again…he’s even more attractive. more buff. and is he dressed as a vampire? how fitting for the brothers.

choso brings in, a beautiful girl trailing behind him, her expression uneasy. you notice something odd—they’re matching.

“that wasn’t funny, choso,” yuji grumbles, pushing him away when choso messes up his slicked-back hair. but your attention is elsewhere, drawn to choso’s costume. the fangs look too real, and dried blood stains the corners of his lips. your stomach twists with unease.

“hey, choso, your costume is… really cool,” you manage to say, your voice catching as his gaze locks onto yours. his eyes—there’s a tint of red. it feels like he’s staring straight through you, searching for something deeper. and then, you notice the girl again, her pale complexion, her exhausted, haunted look.

and her neck.

multiple bite marks—no, fang marks—line her skin, and you swear you see blood trickling from one of them. who in the hell did their makeup?

“costume? oh no, we’re not—”

“teenage versions of dracula and draculara,” choso cuts in coldly, his gaze never leaving yours. your heart pounds, the tension in the room thickening. you know what dracula looks like and it’s not what he’s wearing.

the movie continues playing in the background as it fades into nothing. choso’s lips twitch as he stares at your neck, his eyes darkening when they land on the pulsing vein just beneath the surface. you feel a lump form in your throat, and yuji shifts awkwardly between you both, oblivious to the growing danger.

without another word, choso snaps out of it, pulling the girl upstairs in a hurry. loud, frantic footsteps echo as the door slams shut behind them. you release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

after finishing yuji’s costume, the movie mercifully ends. you take a few photos of yuji with his plastic vampire fangs before megumi and nobara arrive in matching outfits. they thank you, and with a final warning to stay close to the block, you send them off. at last, you’re alone—ready to relax.

but when you return to the dining room, your peace is shattered. the mess from the makeup is worse than you remembered, and you groan. you huff as you start cleaning up, scrubbing the floor and tossing used brushes into the nearby sink. and then, you feel it.

someone’s watching you.

you freeze, a chill running down your spine. slowly, you turn around, your heart racing, and nearly scream again. choso is leaning against the staircase, his dark eyes fixed on you, an unsettling smile tugging at his lips.

“gosh, choso, you scared me,” you exclaim, clutching the counter for support.

“no need to be scared,” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous as he walks closer following you into the kitchen. “i was just… admiring the view.”

heat rushes to your cheeks, but there’s a sinister edge to his words that makes you uneasy. still, you mutter a soft “pervert,” hoping to shake off the tension. but choso hears you clearly, his dark chuckle sending shivers down your spine.

you walk to the dirty dishes as you start cleaning up the previous mess, trying to ignore the growing sense of dread as he offers to help, standing too close for comfort. his presence is suffocating, his body radiating cold as he dries each dish you hand him. “so… you got a boyfriend?” he asks bluntly, and your breath catches.

“no… i’ve been busy with school,” you stammer, your heart pounding in your chest. his lips curl into a smirk, and you hear him whisper, “good girl.”

your knees weaken, and you squeeze your thighs together, feeling a surge of warmth between your legs. he knows. he can smell it. your mind spins as you struggle to focus on washing the dishes. when your hand accidentally brushes his, the icy coldness jolts you, your breath hitching.

you glance at him through the window in front of the sink. dread pooling in your stomach. no way…

the fangs. the eyes. the ice cold touch.

he’s a—

“c’monnn, you’re letting the water run too long,” choso interrupts, snapping you back to reality. you quickly apologize, shaking off the thought as you rinse off the next dirty dish. holding a tiny kitchen knife, you stare at your reflection in the window. choso stands impatiently, waiting for you to hurry up. biting your lip, you rinse the knife, but just before you hand it to him, you ‘accidentally’ slice the tip of your finger.

you watch the way his eyes darken, his pupils dilating as veins bulge beneath his skin. his lips part, his fangs elongating as he watches your blood dribble down with the almost animalistic hunger.

panic grips you and instinct kicks in, and you sprint for the front door, tears stinging your eyes, terrified of ending up like the victims in the horror movies. you twist the doorknob, but choso is suddenly in front of you, covering your mouth with his hand as he dragging you back inside, the door slams behind you with a deafening thud.

“shh, baby…I know, ’m not gonna hurt you,” choso whispers, his voice rough as he coaxes you to the couch. you tremble, tears blurring your vision.

“cho… you’re a—a vampire?” you manage to choke out, the words feeling unreal in your mouth. choso nods, his eyes fixed on the blood still oozing from your finger. something inside you shifts, your fear dissolving as something darker takes over.

fuck it.

“you want it, cho’?” you murmur, lifting your finger to his lips, smearing your blood across them. his eyes roll back, his fangs glistening as he lets out a desperate moan, his hunger consuming him.

you lean closer, your voice a seductive whisper, “then take it.”

and oh did you truly mess up. badly.

choso had never tasted anything as sweet and addicting as you—the sweetest he’s ever known since his transformation into a vampire. that’s why he has you sitting on his face, your pussy suffocating him as his icy hands pull you deeper against his mouth. your thighs tremble on either side of his head, fingers gripping the armrest for support. your eyes roll back as his slick tongue plunges deep into your pulsing walls, his nose brushing against your swollen clit.

“ch-cho’. . slow d-down..” you wail, trying to pull away from his inhuman tongue—but he growls. the wet, messy sounds of slurping and groans fill your ears as you’re losing yourself on his tongue. you can’t help it—you start grinding even deeper into his face, chasing that high as he hums against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. your nails dig into the armrest, knuckles white, as you glance down with glazed eyes—his brows are furrowed, veins pulsing under his skin, soft brown hair that was once tied up now sprawled wildly across the couch.

he’s slurping you up like you’re his last meal, completely lost in the taste of you. it’s like you’ve got him under some kind of spell, and he can’t stop. he pulls you deeper into his face until you’re sure you’ll break. your thighs shake uncontrollably, your stomach tightening as you feel your orgasm slam into you, broken cries spilling from your lips, soaking his tongue in your release.

“mmf— ‘m gonna—”

“not yet,” choso commands, lifting you off his face and tossing you flat on your back with a rough ‘oof’ escaping your lips. your mind is too foggy to register anything as he grabs your ankles, placing them on either side of his shoulders. your cunt spasms uncontrollably, slick dripping down as you whimper, watching him grip the base of his thick cock. his chubby tip parts your swollen folds, sliding up and down your dripping slit, teasing your twitching hole, not giving you what you desperately need. your gaze locks with his, and your heart skips a beat—his eyes fixed on the pulsing vein in your neck, his mouth trembling as his fangs grow longer.

“hahh— I need a t-taste,” he moans, the whites of his eyes turning black as he repeats the same words, over and over, to himself. before you can even respond, he slams into you, balls-deep, a broken sob tearing from your throat he’s stretching you so wide it hurts so good as his thick crown head bullies your sweet spot. your whole body jiggles with each brutal thrust, clenching down hard as his cock stretches you abnormally wide. he’s lost in the feeling, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you swear he’s leaving bruises, all while he keeps mumbling to himself, lost in a frenzy.

he’s completely feral, growling with every thrust, eyes locked on your neck like he’s about to tear into you, his cock stretching you wide as your body shakes from the sheer force of his inhumane thrusts.

“y-yes… cho’, have a t-taste,” you stutter, tilting your head to the side, exposing the throbbing vein he’s been eyeing with hunger. his eyes gleam with feral desire as he leans down, his thick cock still relentlessly jackhammering deep inside you. 

he groans into your neck, inhaling your scent, and your shaking hands pull him closer, legs wrapping tight around his waist, locking him in as your eyes roll back. the sharp sting of his fangs sinking deep into your neck pulls a guttural moan from you, his mouth latched onto your skin as he drinks, each slurp sending electric shocks through your body. his thrusts become erratic, vicious, slamming into your poor cervix as he drinks greedily from you.

“s-such a good vampire,” you pant, praising him as he pulls away from your neck, rising up to look at you—and fuck, he’s completely lost in it. his blacked-out eyes, mouth hanging open, dripping with blood, his chin smeared in a mess of fluids. his monstrous look beyond attractive you don’t even think—you grab him by the face and yank him down to your lips, moaning as the metallic tang of your blood touches your tongue. your lips move against his hungrily, tasting the mix of your blood and his spit as he pounds into your sloppy, swollen cunt that grips him so tight it’s driving him crazy. his thrusts become more brutal, more desperate, his cock throbbing as you cling to him, completely helpless under his inhuman strength.

he pulls away from the kiss with a growl, leaving you breathless, licking your lips as the taste of blood lingers. with no warning, choso grabs your thighs and folds you in half—ankles pressed right up against your ears. he fucks you deeper, so deep you swear he’s going to break you, every thrust harder, more punishing than the last as you whimper and sob beneath him.

“fuckkk— pussy’s suckin’ the s-soul outta me,” he groans, forcing your thighs deeper into your chest, bending you in half like you’re nothing. all you can do is take it, your body completely at his mercy, trembling under his brutal, inhuman pace. his cock pounds into you relentlessly, each thrust sending shockwaves through your entire body, your mind turning into a haze of desperate moans and babbled pleas.

and then, it hits—your orgasm slams into you, hard and fast, like a wave crashing over you. eyes rolling back as your walls clamp down around him, milking his cock, spasming so hard you’re seeing stars. your legs shake uncontrollably as you feel the hot rush of your release soaking both of you, dripping down your thighs, adding to the messy slick between your bodies. you’re screaming, but it’s incoherent—just broken sobs and moans, completely overwhelmed by the pleasure ripping through you.

choso feels it too, your pussy squeezing him so tight he can barely move, and with a deep growl, he spills inside you, thick, hot ropes of cum filling you to the brim. you can feel him pulsing inside you, filling you so full that it starts to leak out, your stomach bulging slightly from how much he’s pumped into you. your whole body trembles, completely spent, as your cunt flutters around him, milking every last drop.

“heyy pretty, c’mon—wake up,” choso coos, giving your swollen, throbbing cunt a hard slap. the impact makes you jolt, and the wet, sticky sound echoes through the living room as your mixed juices splatter everywhere, slick covering your lower stomach and seeping into the couch. broken moans slip past your lips, your eyes fluttering open just in time to see him towering over you, his cock still hard and dripping with cum, more spilling from his tip.

“we’re nowhere near done.” 

[hopeluna]

Satoru's sure his heart is going to wrench itself away from his chest any moment now.

Today's run to his favourite bakery was supposed to be like any other. He had given his students a rare day off today. The air held a little humidity but was otherwise pleasant. The bakery owner's cat hissed at him and strolled over for pets as usual.

Everything was normal. It was normal up until he caught a glance of you from the corner of his eye.

Satoru almost gags at the sappy feeling bubbling in his stomach like acid. From what he can tell- it's clear that you are tired, maybe you are here on a break from work. But god, the light seeping in from the window seems to be soaking into your skin and making it glow. He can tell from the sluggish movement that you are sleepy, but you still offer a small, appreciative smile to the worker taking your order.

He only snaps his eyes away when the owner's cat, Mochi, starts bumping her head softly on his leg. Satoru takes his package of sweets and baked goods from the elderly owner, wondering about you.

Why has he never seen you here? Maybe you're new here? Because he's sure he would've noticed you before.

"Oh my god! Aren't you the cutest thing?"

Satoru's oh-so-charming smile at whoever called him falls as fast as it had appeared. You are beside him, crouching and petting at a purring Mochi. You. You are beside him.

Shit. Satoru internally cringes at how lightheaded he feels. You look even more beautiful from up close.

A car honks in the distant, as the sound of the bell above the bakery's door jingles with new customers coming in. Satoru's ears feel like they're stuffed with cotton. Everything is muffled. The growing sweat from his hand bleeds into the paper package of his sweets, making it soft. He faintly registers you cooing to Mochi about coming back here again for the sweets and her.

Satoru walks away then, with a giddy smile on his face like a lovesick teenage boy. He'll have to come back here too after returning from his mission in Shibuya.

© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.

[cloudwisp]

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 · 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

contents: fluff. established relationship. found family. megumi takes up baking and it takes you back to your teenage years when a certain white-haired someone pined for you. 1.4k wc.

Nine year old Megumi has a crush on someone. You were pleasantly surprised when he asked you to take him to the grocery store to pick up some ingredients, and you inquired if there was a special occasion or a school cooking project as you both walked along the aisle and collected the items on his list that he prepared beforehand.

Your heart melts when you learn that he was planning to gift the pretty girl in his class something homemade, and he decided on butter cookies because she mentioned in passing that it was one of her favorite snacks. You think it’s incredibly sweet that Megumi came up with the idea himself, and even more so that he wanted to set aside a weekend to create something completely from scratch with his own two hands when purchasing a square tin would’ve been much easier.

It certainly reminds you of an insufferable yet equally lovable sorcerer that’s way too tall for his own good with too bright blue eyes that make you forget everything around you if you stare into them a little too long. When you both were just two young teenagers pining after each other and he showed up with a white pastry box hidden behind his back on a summer day, with the strawberries in season and nurtured and harvested to perfection. You smile at the pleasant memory before forcing yourself back to reality.

When you are getting ready to pay for the things you and Megumi placed on the conveyor belt, he stops you and pulls out his Digimon wallet (courtesy of Gojo’s taste in presents) and explains he wants to purchase it with his own savings and be able to say that this gift is entirely by him without receiving any help from others.

You almost had to hold back a tear because when did this boy become so sweet? You suppose he always was this sweet and thoughtful, it just took a bit of time and some trust for him to fully warm up to you and Gojo despite the circumstances with his family and almost being sold off like a pawn to the Zenin clan. And now he has a home where him and his sister could feel like they belong and be surrounded with people that he could depend on because at the end of the day Megumi is just a boy much too young to be growing up too fast.

You announce your return home to Gojo and Tsumiki with the soft thud of the grocery bags being placed on the kitchen counter, and Megumi scurries into his bedroom to fetch the printed recipe he tucked away in a drawer. You carefully take out each item from the bags to place on the surface for him to get started, and white tufts of hair come into your peripherals and Gojo greets you with a cheeky grin.

“Angel, you’re back.” His hand falls on your hip and he softly pecks your lips when you turn your head toward him. He does a quick scan of the contents in front of you, and he decides you must be some kind of mind reader or his telepathic messages have finally reached you after several days now. “Aw baby~ Don’t tell me you’re baking something for me? How did you know I was craving—”

“Not me.” You shake your head and cut him off promptly. “Megumi.” And at the mention of his name, the young raven-haired boy enters the kitchen with a loose paper in his grip. You offer him a polite smile before addressing that everything he needs is on the counter and point to where the baking equipment are, and if he has any questions or concerns then you’ll be in the next room with Gojo as you drag your boyfriend by the arm to give Megumi his privacy.

“You see, Satoru, our Megumi here has a crush on someone. And he’s taken it upon himself to bake her cookies!” You say just above a whisper, a proud smile lining your lips and Gojo arches a curious brow. You catch a peek between the threshold that separates the kitchen and sitting area with Gojo looming behind you and find Megumi checking off the ingredients and looking over the instructions. He’s being thorough, that’s a good start.

“Megumi, eh? You know, I’m a little surprised he’s crushing at all. He’s quite the serious kid.”

You huff at him softly. “Well, serious or not, I think everyone is allowed to have crushes. Besides, doesn’t this remind you of something? Like that time you baked me a strawberry shortcake because strawberries were my favorite?” You look back up at him, and in your gaze there was always a sort of sweet and dreamy expression that never fails to make his heart swell three times too big.

“Ah.” Gojo chuckles, and his mind drifts back to the fond memories of his own youth, when he too used to try his hand at baking sweets in the hopes of impressing you. He remembered how long it took and how many attempts he made since he had no prior experience. There was a lot of flour and eggshells, and maybe he did set the oven on fire… but the moment he saw your face light up with your beautiful smile it was worth all the trouble and the mess. “That was the cake that changed it all for us, huh?” His arms move to your waist and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

You nod and hum affectionately, your hands reaching up to wrap around his neck though with his height he had to bend down slightly. “That’s one way to put it. But as much as I appreciate the sweet gesture, I am so glad you left the baking to me since then.”

“You’re still teasing me about that to this day?” He playfully nips the sensitive spot on your neck causing you to giggle and lightly shove him away. “But hey, I never claimed to be a master chef. A little bird told me that maybe a homemade cake from me would be the thing to win your heart.”

“Well, I hope you know it was more than the cake that won my heart.”

“Yeah, I know it was my good looks and charm, you can’t get enough of me.” Gojo teases, peppering kisses over your shoulders and neck before pulling back just enough so his smirk comes into your view. “Enlighten me then. Since I still don’t have a clue why an Angel like you fell for a great catch such like myself.”

You playfully roll your eyes at his jokes, and you mull it over for a long moment to purposely keep him in anticipation. There are so many reasons that made you love Satoru Gojo back then, and every day you find new things to love about him. But for now the two qualities that come to mind should suffice for an answer. “Maybe it’s because I found you funny. And cute sometimes.”

“Sometimes? Cute most times, I think.” Gojo quips, and he gently pinches your cheeks. “And of course, my sense of humor is legendary. Who else can make you laugh like I do, hmm?”

“Alright, I think that’s enough flattery for you in one day. Any more and I’m afraid your enormous ego might burst.” There’s a teasing lilt in your voice, and suddenly the air around you feels sweeter as Gojo brings you closer to him and kisses your cheeks before resting his forehead against yours.

“But you know I love you, right?” He says in a much softer tone. “I might tease you a lot and act like an idiot sometimes, but I do appreciate you still being here with me through it all. Without you, I don’t want to imagine what my life would be like without you. You make me a better person, you know that?” He tenderly cradles the side of your face and gazes lovingly into your eyes before there’s a flash of his dimples and a boyish giggle. “And the fact you think I’m cute is icing on the cake. Pun intended.”

You groan softly but the laughter that came shortly after is one of genuine affection. “I'm gonna go check on Megumi.” Before you turn on your heel, you plant a big smooch on his cheek then you’re gone the next second. He stands there, grinning from ear to ear as he rubs the spot you kissed like he still was (and he still is) the lovesick boy just a few years back.

꒰ note ᰔ the idea where megumi takes after gojo in some ways really squeezes my heart and that’s what inspired this little piece. ꒱

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.

or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?

or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~

Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.

It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?

Danny’s obsession was going crazy.

Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?

Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?

Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*

~~~~~

Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!

~~~~~

Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?

~~~~~2 hours later~~~~

~~~~~

Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.

Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.

To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.

Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.

The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:

~~~~~

Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.

[moremaybank]

Any Dad!JJ? You’re just one of the best at writing him.

dad!jj for the soul !!!!! i hope you enjoy, angel! i really enjoyed writing this one! 🤍

jj's elated when he sees his six year old babygirl, avery, walking out of her classroom. it's three-thirty on the dot, a time jj looks forward to daily when he picks up your daughter and takes her to work with him while they wait for you to meet them there after work.

avery reaches him, and he crouches down to her height so he can press a kiss to her cheek. "hi, babygirl."

"hi, daddy!"

he loves how chipper his little girl gets when she's around him. she lets it be known that she adores his presence, and that's what he's always dreamed of as a parent.

"mama killed it on your hair today," he says. he yanks gently at one of the braids you'd put into her hair earlier this morning. "look at these. phew. think my babygirl's a model."

she giggles at her father's affectionate words, cheeks heating with love. her squeals grow louder when jj scoops her up and makes his way to his truck. he buckles her into her booster seat, ruffling up the top of her hair playfully before shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat.

"hey, daddy?"

"'sup, aves?" he asks, pulling out of the parking lot and starting on the journey to the auto shop.

"what colours do boys like best?"

he arches a brow. "what d'ya mean, sweet girl?"

"dunno...like what colour do you like most on mama?"

"hmmm," jj says, pondering out loud. "that's a hard one, baby. i think your mama looks good in everythin'."

an adorable huff escapes her pursed lips. "daddy. 'm serious. you have to pick one."

the truck zooms down the road, passing by avery's favourite fast food joint. jj can't help but speed up just a smidge, hoping and praying that she won't look out the window and wrangle a chicken finger combo out of him. 'cause then he'd have to get one for her. he's never said no to his princess and he doesn't plan on changing that any time soon.

"mm, i guess i'd say red. i like when she wears that matching lipstick too."

jj looks up at the rear view mirror, catching the way avery nods before a presumable heat takes over her face. the dimple she'd gotten from him peeks through as she smiles to herself.

"what're you smilin' about?"

"nothing, daddy. i just think i'm gonna wear red for the dance tomorrow."

he arches a brow, but he doesn't push her on her answer. "whatever you want, babygirl."

˖ . ݁ 𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

jj hears the click-clacking of high heels against the floors of the auto-shop, and he doesn't need to wheel out from underneath the station wagon he's working on to know it's you.

"hi, mommy!" avery greets cheerfully, getting off the spinning chair jj had secured for her from the break room. she runs over to you as quickly as her smaller feet can manage, and you meet her with an equally thrilled grin. you pick her up and squeeze her into a tight hug.

"hi, baby." you smooth down some of her frizz. "how was school?"

"it was good. chrissy shared her chocolate bar with me, and kyle gave me a flower at recess."

neither of you can see it, but jj makes a face under the car.

kyle? who the fuck was kyle?

"he's a good best friend to you, baby," you tell her. "did you thank him?"

"yes. and he's not my best friend anymore, mama. he's my boyfriend."

this time, you do see jj's reaction. or, rather, hear it anyway.

"what?!"

something that sounds like a bang rings through the air, followed by a shit (to which your daughter snickers, always one to find her father hilarious). then, he rolls out from beneath the vehicle, rubbing his forehead to ease the sharp pain. his eyes find your daughter's, though, and he's as stern as you've ever seen him.

"aves— you can't have a boyfriend!"

"daddy, i'm six. i'm not a baby," avery reminds him, sounding every bit like a teenager instead of her actual age. the sass never failed to make you smile.

just like her daddy.

"yes, you are still a baby! my baby!"

"j—" you interject.

"nah. nope. no way."

"why don't you go back over there and colour, angel?" she nods, and you set her down, watching as she runs back to her chair. she takes a sip of her apple juice, bringing her attention back to her artwork.

deciding she's not at all bothered by jj's theatrics, you walk over to him and help him stand. you look up into his cerulean eyes when he towers above you. "babe, relax. she's six."

"exactly! she's a baby! she can't have a boyfriend. s'just not happenin'."

you give him a knowing smile, your arms looping around the back of his neck. "you were my boyfriend when we were six," you remind him. "don't think you found anything wrong about that back then."

he frowns, but pulls you in closer by your hips anyway. no matter what, any time he's around you without touching you, it just seems like a waste.

"that's different. i was a nice boy."

you both realize avery's been listening quietly when she chimes in. "kyle's nice too, daddy. he kisses my cheek everyday at the end of school."

she says it like it's a fact. like kyle never misses out on what infuriatingly sounds like a tradition to jj.

jj thinks he's having a stroke.

"he's puttin' his lips on you, now?!" his forehead falls to your shoulder, and he slumps against you like the six-foot baby he is. "oh god, i think i'm gonna be sick." a beat passes, and then he distances himself from you. the sulk is still prominent on his face, and now, it's probably permanent. he pulls at his collar, shifting uncomfortably as he tries to fan himself off. "'m i sweating?"

avery hops down from her chair, strutting over to her father and tugging at the leg of his coveralls, silently requesting that he crouch down to her height. of course, jj immediately falls in line.

"don't be mad, daddy."

"wait, wait, wait— is kyle the reason you're wearin' red tomorrow?!"

"don't worry, daddy." she pats his cheek like he's the one who needs reassurance. to be fair, he clearly is. "kyle's nice. just like you."

and with that, she trots off back to her chair with a cheshire cat smile, clearly feeling accomplished.

"yeah. he better be," jj mutters bitterly, standing back up.

your hands reach out to grab a hold of your husband again, and it draws his attention back to you. your hands frame his face and you give him a smile. "you're gonna be a total nightmare when she grows up and gets a boyfriend or girlfriend for real."

"damn right, i will. like i said, she's my baby."

you raise a brow. "i thought i was your baby?"

his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and then his mouth forms into a smirk. "see now, she's my baby. but you're my baby." his hands migrate down to your ass and he gives you a squeeze. "you pickin' up what i'm puttin' down?"

"oh, i think i am."

concepts ; concepts (ii)

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms, depression, manipulation wc: 5155 a/n: hi everyone! i'm so excited for this piece of work as I have a lot of exciting ideas planned in store! this will probably have slow updates, so please please please be patient with me. thank you all for reading! i'm aiming for at least 15ish chapters, maybe more or less, depends how much i write in one chapter in the future. next chapter

“Cash or card?”

“Card.”

The sound of light dinging follows, the transaction completed. “Here you go, Miss. Have a good day.”

“Thank you, you too.” The woman takes the small bag from your outstretched hands, giving one last smile before exiting. The bell at the top of the door rings, signifying her exit. You sigh and look at the clock, one more hour. It’s not that long. But you’ve been here since opening and the shoes you’re wearing are beginning to hurt your feet. Maybe you should’ve broken them in more.

It’s a quaint little cafe. Most of the customers are teenagers, college students, or overworked office workers who need caffeine to get them through the day. Other than that, you have no qualms. Of course, it does get a little annoying having to tell the newer, much younger co-workers that they can’t do this or that. 

A mundane routine of making coffees, packing orders, and ringing them up. Just one more hour. 

As soon as the clock strikes 5:00, you’re clocking out and saying goodbye. The school is an exact walk of ten minutes, six if you’re fast. Then another ten back to the apartment. And finally, another fifteen to the convenience store. 

Hustle and bustle is all you’ve ever known. Sure, you like it most of the time. But you just wish you could get a break. It’s always go, go, go, but never take a rest and time to yourself for a moment. But when you see that adorable smile plaster on those chubby cheeks you never shy away from pinching, it’s all worth it. “Mama!” 

“Baby!” you crouch down and open your arms. The young boy wastes no time in throwing his body into yours, face nuzzled into your chest and arms around your neck. “How was school? Fun?” you ask, hand rubbing his back up and down.

He nods. “Mhm! Mr. Ito says I got the most gold stars out of everyone in class.” 

Your smile grows wistful, aweing. “Wow, such a good boy, aren’t you?”

You carry Koji into your arms, starting the walk back to your very humble apartment. He chatters innocently the entire trek, with you occasionally adding on or asking questions. His soft white hair pokes at your cheek, to which you straighten down with one free hand. It’s days like these where you wish you could just lounge at home with him, basking in his sweet innocence. But while most people are ending for the day, you’re barely starting your second half.

You feel the self-deprecating thoughts fill your mind like a virus while stationed near the light, waiting for the pedestal symbol to indicate. Your grip tightens around your son slightly, as if anchoring yourself to reality and reminding yourself you’re doing it all for him, and to keep going for him. 

It’s hard, yes. But so is parenting. 

The symbol comes on and you walk, seeing the building of your complex in the distance. Forcing any lingering negativity away, you clear your throat. “So, what did you learn today, baby?”

Koji looks up at you. “We learned how to add! I helped Mina.”

“That’s very nice of you.”

He giggles bashfully, leaning into the kiss you place on his cheek. Eyebrows raising as a sudden memory hits him. “Oh! And Mr. Ito said Dad Appreciation Day is next month. There’s gonna be food and music.”

Your smile wavers, footsteps momentarily pausing before continuing. “Oh, really?” you ask, inhaling a wavy breath of air. “That sounds like fun.”

“Mhm.” Koji nods, then tilts his head curiously at you. “But everyone is bringing their daddies. I wanna bring Papa too.” 

And you really try not to make your guilty grimace visible. “I know, sweetie. I know.”

“Can Papa come?” he frowns. 

No, he can’t. But you’re not about to tell your five-year-old that the reason his father can’t make an appearance is because he doesn’t even know he has a son. It’s been a difficult conversation for you. You’re not sure when or how to have these sorts of hard ones with children. So you’ve been dancing around the subject. Saying his dad is away on vacation, or fighting intergalactic dragons, or some other excuse you’ve been forced to use. He believes you, most of the time. But that doesn’t stop his curiosity and growing impatience. 

The last thing you want him to think is that he has no father in the first place.

He does. You’ve shown him pictures and videos occasionally. Of, and of course, he’s an exact carbon copy of the man. From his bright blue eyes, albino hair, and all the way down to his stubborn personality. You were a little annoyed when your only child took quite literally everything from his father, only leaving him with a couple of things from you–your nose and helpful nature. 

“We’ll see. Papa is busy, remember?” you gently reply, walking through the parking lot of your complex to the lobby.

Koji’s frown deepens and so do the metaphorical scars on your heart. “But Papa’s always busy! I wanna see Papa.”

“I know you do, baby. You will soon, okay?”

“Do you promise?”

You hesitate but eventually nod with a forced smile. “Mama promises.”

After leaving Koji with the babysitter, you give him a quick kiss and recite the list with the babysitter before rushing off to your second job. A convenience store. 

Not the most savory place, mainly because you get all sorts of crazy and odd customers, but also because you are close. You hate closing. But you need the second disposable income and this is the only place that fits with your schedule. It’s also a little more leaned back than the cafe, when there are no customers, you spend your time browsing the web for jobs.

You’ve probably sent in over 500 applications over the years, with not even half of those places reaching out. Even then, you’re not guaranteed a job. The job market is horrible nowadays and you’re living through it.

Whatever, you think to yourself as you clock in. One day at a time.

It’s around eleven at night when you're slugging back into your apartment, lights dim, and silence enveloping the place. “Thank you, Sana.” You mutter, exhausted but still sparing the 20-year-old a smile. You hand her a small envelope. “For today and last Saturday. How was he?”

Sana thanks you kindly and grabs her stuff. “All good, no tantrums today.”

“That’s good.” you walk into the kitchen, grabbing some food you’ve meal prepped. “Get home safe, okay?”

“Thank you, Y/N. Sleep well.”

When she leaves, you give yourself a moment to slump over the kitchen island, sighing in both relief and lingering tiredness. The silence feels nice, like an old and familiar friend welcoming you and praising you after yet another day of the same routine. You’ve always loved routines, but you can’t help but crave at least some sort of spontaneity. Putting the tupperware of chicken and rice into the microwave for a minute, its light humming makes you zone out. The conversation from before with your son ringing in your mind like a very annoying bell.

Soon, images of his son, your ex, flood your mind. An old fluttery sensation residing in the pit of your stomach, your body suddenly feeling all too warm for your liking. Your fists clench to stop their light trembling, shaking your head free of him. 

Not now.

You stop the microwave at one second, before it makes that obnoxious beeping and wakes your son. There are two chairs at the small dining table, you sit at one of them and eat your now warm meal. You’ve started meal prepping after one too many missed meals and a few incidents where that light-headedness and blurred vision caused you to faint. Luckily, you were alone when that happened. Unluckily, you were alone when that happened. Nursing a few bruises to your forehead after making contact was not a fun time. 

You take time to eat, in no particular rush. Although you know you should be getting ready for bed soon for another early day tomorrow, your body doesn’t move. Either consciously or subconsciously. The end of the day is when you find yourself attempting to unwind and detach from the day’s events. But, the stress of unpaid bills, debts, and worry for the future always find time to crawl back.

It’s exhausting, extremely so. Sure, you’re an adult and this is normal. But don’t you deserve at least a little bit of time when you don’t have to worry about anything? It feels like every waking second your mind is working overtime, your body in a constant state of motion. It’s worn you down completely over the years. But you have a son who needs you, so you suppose you shouldn’t be feeling pity for yourself.

This is what parenting is all about, isn’t it?

Making sacrifice after sacrifice for your child. However, when you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper, slowly losing more of yourself, what if there’s nothing left to sacrifice in the first place? The eviction bill from this morning taunts you as it lays upright in front of you in the middle of the table.

It’s then do you think, no, you do have one thing left. 

Koji.

If Koji’s gone, then you really have nothing left. There’s no reason to live if that happens. And with the path you’re going down, that’s feeling more and more like a dreaded possibility. 

I wanna see Papa.

Koji’s words play repeatedly. For a second, you feel yourself resonating with your son. Only for a second. You reach for your phone and go to Google, typing in a name that still haunts you. You’re barely three letters in before his name appears and you’re clicking.

A smiling image fills your screen along with other general information.

For some unknown reason, your breath hitches. You feel like he’s almost staring at you, smiling at your pathetic predicament. Grip tightening around your phone, swallowing down an unexpecting lump, tears fall from your eyes and onto the phone screen.

Why you’re crying, you don’t know. It could be many things, but you won’t address that right now.

Gojo Satoru.

The father of your child, your ex of 4 years. 

You rarely look him up, almost never. Only in desperate times when you feel yourself drowning and needing some sort of comfort. It’s stupid. You haven’t been together or even seen him in seven years. Not since you ended things with him. Not since you felt his hands roam your skin, whispering sweet words.

He didn’t even protest or question why. Almost like he knew your breakup was inevitable. You’re not sure if that hurts more.

You’re twenty-eight now. But while your life still feels the same from when you met Satoru at the ripe age of seventeen, you’ve reached a plateau. But him? He’s thriving, of course. Making a name for himself, as an heir to one of the biggest conglomerates in Japan, the Gojo Group. 

You’re happy for him. But where is that happiness for yourself?

You feel a little, no, a lot jealous. You always were of Satoru. Being given everything he wants without much thought, never worrying about money, and a stable home life. You’re extremely jealous of that bastard.

But right now, jealousy isn’t in the picture. It’s your son’s father. And if you want to keep your son, give him everything he wants, that starts with one person.

Letting him meet his father. 

“Honey, do you like your pancakes?” you ask your son who’s currently scarfing down his plate of breakfast. Adorned in an adorable shirt uniform shirt and some little black trousers. He hums back excitedly with a muffled “yes, mama”. With a chuckle, you dry up the rest of the dishes, then your hands. Dropping him off at school is the first thing on your agenda, as per usual. 

The walk to his school is a familiar one, wanting to get your son knowledgeable with the route so when the day comes that he needs to walk him himself, he’d know his way back. You pass by other kids and parents, some children yelling bye as they step onto the school grounds, with others giving their children long-lasting hugs.

You walk until you reach his door, his teacher, Mr. Ito, standing outside and greeting his students as they enter. When he makes eye contact with Koji, he smiles a bit wider. “Good morning, Koji.”

“Good morning!” your son happily replies, waving up at his teacher. With one final hug and kiss shared, he’s running in to already begin talking to his friends. Standing back up, you see Mr. Ito already looking at you. And you especially don’t miss the way his eyes not so subtly rake up and down your figure. You clear your throat. “Good morning.”

He meets your eyes again. “Good morning, Y/N-san. How are you today?”

“Good, and you?” 

“Very good.” 

The way his tone is almost causes you to visibly shiver, brows furrowing slightly in discomfort. One of the things you dislike the most about Koji’s school, his teacher. Although he hasn’t outwardly done or said anything inappropriate, you’re a smart woman. “That’s good. Well…have a nice day.” Doing anything you can to quickly end this dreaded conversation, but still wanting to maintain a level of politeness. 

You’re about to turn on your heel and leave when he calls out. “Ah, Y/N-san?”

Damn it, what now? “Yes?” you turn and look at him.

The distance between you reduces as he steps a little closer. “I have some concerns regarding Koji’s behavior in class. Would you be available to set up a conference anytime this week?”

“Behavior? Has he been misbehaving?” You did not expect that.

“Well, it’s complicated. He has some trouble listening as talks when he shouldn’t. I’d like to nip this in the bud before it grows out of control.” Mr. Ito cooly replies, smile looking more like a hidden smirk. “So, will you be available?”

You hesitate, not really. With your two jobs, you barely have time for yourself, let alone your son’s teacher. But if it’s regarding a behavior problem, then do you have any choice? “I think I’ll be free this Saturday. Weekdays are very hectic for more.”

He nods. “That’s fine, we can grab coffee.” When your head tilts slightly, he adds on with a chuckle. “And discuss Koji over coffee. On me.”

Right, of course. You know what this is, but just think about your son. That’s the priority. “Okay, 8 am at Latte Lounge sound good?”

“Sounds excellent, I’ll see you then. Have a wonderful day.”

With a simple nod back, you turn around and finally leave. Practically feeling the way his eyes shamelessly check out your behind. A frown inevitably grows on your face, why wouldn’t it? As long as this man doesn’t try anything…more, you should be fine. And if he does, 1) you’ll be in public, and 2) you’ll tell him straight up.

Whatever. 

“Pizza or teriyaki?”

“Pizza!”

“Of course.” you chuckle and put the frozen pizza in your cart, your son clutched onto your right hand after announcing he can walk on his own because he’s a big boy. The grocery store isn’t crowded during this time of day. Rightfully so. It’s 7 pm on a Tuesday, most people already cooking dinner by now. You always grocery shop at this time, your son appreciates it too. There’s been a few times when you both got quickly and very overwhelmed with the bustling nature of the grocery store on a weekend morning. Currently, you’re moving through the snack section now, picking up a few of your and Koji’s favorites. 

“Mama, can I pick a cereal?” Koji asks and points to the cereal aisle next over. When you nod, he happily runs off. You still however make sure to look over at him frequently when picking up and putting down a few snacks. 

You reach up to grab a pack of Hello Panda, the pink and chocolate ones, before a hand beats you to it. “Oh, I’m sorry.” As soon as you look over, you and the stranger meet eyes. 

Immediately, there’s a silence that falls over you two. Eyes each blown wide in shock. 

Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.

Just your luck. As soon as the stranger speaks, a strange nostalgia fills you. “Y-Y/N?”

It almost sounds weird coming from his lips. Your friend–well, ex?--friend gets out. He still looks the same, just more…manly. 

“...Suguru, I–I’m… surprised to see you.” you awkwardly laugh. Reunions were never easy.

“Oh my god,” Suguru breaths out, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Well, shit. I mean, how are you? You..you look good.” His eyes move down your figure in an appreciative way.

“Thank you, I’m good. How are you? Your hair is longer.” you motion to his sea of black, healthy locks. “ ‘M a little jealous.”

He laughs with you, the sound reminding you of old times. “Yeah, been working on it. And I’m good.”

Another pause is permitted, as if you two aren’t very sure what to say to one another. Well, in all honesty, it has been seven years. “Well,” he clears his throat and puts his hands in his pockets. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, you know,” you glance down at your cart. “Just some shopping.”

He also looks down, head tilting slightly. “Ah, right.” With a nod, he juts his head toward the direction of the kid��s toothpaste. “Just for one?” He laughs, joking of course. 

You mentally curse yourself, putting a pack of cookies on top of the toothpaste to hide its already revealed existence. “Uh, ye—”

“Mama! I want this one!” Koji runs up to you, showcasing his desired cereal.

Well…..shit. 

As if things weren’t already complicated.

With Suguru’s eyes even wider than when they were staring at you, his mouth is practically on the floor when the young boy looks at him. His sharp eyes dart across his features and…..

“I-is this—”

“Koji.” you cut him off, gulping and shifting the child closer to your leg. “My son.”

Suguru spends another good minute staring at the boy, who innocently stares back. When his eyes slowly move from the blue ones to yours, there are a million and more questions swirling in his brain. He’s not even sure which one to ask first. But he goes with the obvious. “...Is….is he…..”

You nod uncomfortably. 

He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, hand running through his hair. “Holy shit, I mean….holy heck.”

Your lips purse, putting Koji’s cereal in your cart before picking him up in your arms. “Koji, this is Suguru. Say hi.”

“Hi.” Koji childishly smiles at the older man. “Are you Mama’s friend?”

Suguru spares you a glance. “Uhm…yeah. Yeah, kid, I am. Nice to meet you.” He then shifts weirdly, not sure if he should shake the boy’s hand, which seems too formal. He decides to gently ruffle his hair. “So…how old is he?” The question is directed towards you, but Koji answers. “I’m five!” He holds up five small fingers. 

“Five?” Suguru’s brows furrow at you. It’s surprising how quickly you recognize that scolding look of his. “Have you—”

“No.” you once again cut him off, shifting Koji to your hip. “I haven’t.”

“Why?”

That’s a good question. One you know the answer to…slightly. But with Koji looking between you two curiously, you can’t exactly say why. At least not here. “I….I just…haven’t.”

Silence. 

You can feel Suguru regarding you with many emotions, but the main one is confusion. He bites his lip as he thinks over how to react properly to this situation. From the looks of it, Koji is just as clueless as him, maybe even more. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even know what to say right now.” Heavily sighing, he looks back at Koji, then you, then Koji, then finally you. “You’re going to…right? I mean, he deserves to know, Y/N. You’ve just–I mean, come on.”

There’s not much of a response to that, much to his expectation. You always used to do this when you were guilty. But Suguru has always been the more… empathetic of the two. “Look, I–I know you’re probably going through your own things, but…”

You look at him again, remorseful. His lips purse and with a heavy sigh, he takes a card out from his pocket and hands it to you. “Here’s my business card, it has my number. We lost your old one, so.”

Your hand reaches out to take it, examining the words, Rising Futures Foundation. "Building futures, one child at a time.” You meet his eyes again, forcing words out. “Okay…thanks.” 

“No need,” he waves you off, taking down the two Hello Panda boxes and putting them in your cart. “I’m sorry, I have things to do right now, but please…give me a call, okay?”

With slight hesitation, you nod. He mirrors you before focusing on the child again, a smile forming. “See you, buddy.” Suguru pats his shoulder lightly before walking away and away from your vision.

Your mind is being overrun, body feeling stiff and stuck, unsure of how to process what the fuck just happened. No doubt he’s about to tell his best friend. Then said best friend will find you and Koji. Then maybe he’ll try taking you to court for hiding his son for five years. You’ll obviously lose because you have no lawyer and Satoru has the best. Your son, your one and only, your sole happiness will be taken away from you and you’ll be left alone to rot in angui–

“Mama?” Koji’s small hand is put to your cheek, stirring you from your mild comatose state. “Are you okay? You have tears in your eyes.”

“What?” Raising your hand to your eye and sure enough, you are letting loose some tears. “No, no, Mama’s okay. I’m not crying, just…just tired.”

But with growing age, so is his perception. “Are you sure? Did your friend make you cry? I don’t like him then.”

Oh, how sweet. You smile, head tilting. “No, baby. Don’t say that, okay? Mama’s fine. I promise. See? I’m smiling. Wanna smile with me?”

Like clockwork, he follows your emotions and smiles, giggling. “Yeah, I wanna smile with you. I like smiling with you, Mama.”

“And I like it when you smile with me too.”

Maybe, this isn’t too bad. You were just thinking that you want Koji to finally meet his dad. So, this is good. This ensures a meeting. But, it also ensures a deep-rooted, most likely bad confrontation that will take place between you two. Why wouldn’t it? At least you’ll be able to prepare yourself now, mentally. 

You can imagine the harsh words he might say. The raised voices and brutal questions about how you can do this to him and so on. In hindsight, you deserve it. What kind of woman does do this to a man? Children are supposed to be bundles of joy, not hidden secrets. Of course, there’s the lingering worries of what legal action Satoru, or his family, might try to take.

That would quite literally fuck you over so hard.

But…maybe Satoru will go easy on you because of your past. You really don’t know. This situation is messy as fuck and it’s mostly—a lot—because of you. You have no one to blame but yourself. Hopefully, he’ll take pity on you, even though you hate when others pity you. It’s different when it comes to him, the father of your son. It always has been and it probably always will be. 

Honestly, you’re a little relieved that you ran into the best friend of the man than the man himself. Now that would’ve been bad. 

The sounds of skin against skin fill the room, mixed with heavy grunts and airy moans. The headboard repeatedly hitting the wall plays like a drum, the lights dim and the view of the dark city landscape is exposed. Satoru’s gripping the woman’s hips, leaving crescent-shaped indents in her fair skin. Her constant mewls sound heavenly in his ears. “God, you feel so….good…”

“S-satoru!” 

“Yeah, say my name. Just like that, baby.”

He presses a firm hand down on the small of her back to keep her arch in place, feeling his release invade her warm walls, filling her with a lovely warmth. She clenches around him, moaning out once more as she finishes with him.

He collapses against her back, his heavy breaths tingling her ear. “Baby, that was…so good…” she croaks out. 

Satoru’s mind is fuzzy, vision blurring slightly. He hums in response and leans back up to pull out, discarding the heavy condom with his load into the trashcan beside the bed. “Stay.” With a small pat to her hip, he’s forcing his limbs out of bed and to the connecting bathroom to grab a warm rag. Aftercare. Although most of the time, he really can’t be bothered to do something like this. Cleaning her up feels like a chore sometimes,  but the last time he voiced that opinion, it led to a huge argument between the two. 

In just a few minutes, they’re both cleaned and changed. Wearing his sweats low on his hips while she indulges in just one of his oversized shirts. Another small pet peeve he has. And another thing he must keep his mouth shut about. “What time do you have to go into the office tomorrow?” Himari asks, snuggled up against his chest, dainty fingers tracing circles along the firm muscles. 

“Same time as always,” he sighs, grabbing the TV remote and putting a random show on. “You know that.”

“I know, but…can’t you just call off tomorrow? Please? I wanna spend the day with you.”

When he looks back down at her, she’s frowning. A small tug is pulled at his heart and before he knows it, he’s pulling her closer and placing a gentle kiss to her hair. “Can’t, baby. Maybe this weekend?”

Satoru can feel her ready to protest again, but the sound of the front door downstairs being opened and closed interrupts the moment. Followed by the familiar voice of his friend. “Satoru! You here?”

Satoru’s brows furrow slightly. A small grunt falls from his lips as he maneuvers Himari off his chest, standing up and walking out. He looks down the staircase and sees Suguru staring up at him. “What do you want? I’m sorta busy.” Himari comes out and hugs his waist, proof of his so-called “busyness”. 

Suguru holds back an eye roll when the woman gives him a look, focusing on his best friend. “Need to talk to you. Privately.” 

“For what?”

“It’s important.”

“So just say it now.”

“Damn it, Satoru. Just come down and kick your friend out.”

“Girlfriend.” Himari corrects with a scowl.

“Yeah, sure.” Suguru waves her off and motions for Satoru to come down as he walks into the man’s kitchen.

Sighing with his eyes closed, he turns to Himari. “Sorry, babe. My driver’ll give you a ride back.”

Once again, she frowns. “But I—”

“Please.” 

His bottom lip pokes out in a small, but convincing pout. “I’ll see you later, mkay?” Satoru reaches his thumb out and brushes it along her cheekbone, which he knows she’s weak for. Confliction and hesitation dance in her eyes but she concedes. Gathering her purse and shows, she gives Satoru a dramatic kiss on the lips before leaving. 

“Finally,” Suguru huffs from the kitchen, swirling a glass of whiskey. “I thought you guys broke up.”

“It was a break.” Satoru grumbles, walking over to stand across from his friend, snatching the glass out his hand and sipping. “Anyway, what’s so important you come unannounced for and demand my sweet company to leave?”

“That woman is not sweet.” 

Satoru smiles and shrugs, “She tastes it.” 

A groan is heard from Suguru, eyes rolling before he shakes his head. “Look, you should sit down.”

“That good, huh?” he plops down in the nearby chair and leans back, arm resting against the back of it. He nods. “Alright, shoot, baby.”

Suguru takes in a deep breath and steels himself for the more than likely hard conversation. A part of him feels like he’s intruding, like it’s not his place to reveal such a thing to him. But at the end of the day, it’s his best friend. And you, well…he’s not exactly sure if you’re still friends or not. “What I tell you might sound crazy, but I need you to promise you’ll stay calm until I’m done speaking, got it?”

Satoru’s brows raise in mild astonishment, seeing Suguru get all serious like this is quite amusing. “Okay, I promise.” He shrugs again. “Can’t be that bad, right? No one’s hurt.”

Not yet, Suguru says to himself. He claps his hands together, mulling over how exactly to break the news. “So, I came across an old friend today.”

“Oh yeah? She cute?” Satoru swirls the alcohol in his glass.

Suguru holds back another eye roll. “Yeah, she is.”

“Nice, man.” the white-haired man chuckles, head tilting. “So what, did she make a move on you or something? Now that’s crazy.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m actually quite favorable amongst women.”

“Are you now?”

“Listen, you ass. No talking, just listening.” When he doesn’t get a response back, he takes it as a sign to continue. “Anyway, I saw an old friend. And…she had a kid with her.” Satoru nods slowly, already getting lost on his this information is even remotely crazy, or relevant to him. But he stays shut, deciding not to face another one of Suguru’s mini-lectures. One more deep breath is let out from Suguru and he gets to the point. “It was Y/N, she has a kid.”

A small beat of silence follows as Suguru gauges his best friend’s reaction. He doesn’t look like he’s flipping out, but he doesn’t show much emotion either. Confusing Suguru, he waits for the inevitable lash out.

“Who?” Satoru ends up asks.

His best friend knits his brows, trying to see if the other man is serious or not. When his expression doesn’t change, he replies. “Y/N…” he speaks slowly. “...your ex?”

Still, no emotion. But his grip on the glass does tighten.  “And she has a kid.” Suguru reiterates, almost in nervousness now. 

“Satoru….the kid looks exactly like you.”

a/n: thank you guys for reading!!! Sorry if this chapter was a little short, i’ll try to make the next ones a little more longer. But writing super huge chapters isn’t my forte. Anyway, stay tuned for chapter 2 :)

[krkiiz]

take a chance with me . luke castellan x reader

you decide to confront luke about your current situationship with him.

luke castellan x f!reader , reader is the daughter of Athena , crack , misunderstandings , “what are we” , “i thought we’re already dating” , fluff with slight angst , overthinking , kisses , them being sappy , nicknames

note : can’t stop falling in love with this evil betrayer smh. inspired by niki’s song “take a chance with me” ! (IM SORRY IF THIS IS CRINGE this is my first time writing kiss scenes help 😭😭😭😭)

let me know your thoughts ! likes, reblogs, and comments appreciated <3

“It’s getting dark. Let me walk you back to your cabin, yeah?” The dark haired boy smiled at you.

Gods how you loved that smile of his.

It’s a tradition of yours. Him walking you back to your cabin after your outings. The two of you walk hand in hand as your near the Athena cabin.

You and Luke had been acquainted for quite some time. You both first met when you arrived in camp for the first time.

You were fifteen back then. Time passed by as fast Zeus’ lightning strikes as summers blurred after summers. In a blink of an eye, you guys were both eighteen now. Adults, no longer those carefree teenagers that relied on your counselors.

During those three years of friendship, you and Luke only got closer. It was hard to admit, and after an excruciating time of denial (and constant pestering from your half siblings including Annabeth), you finally surrendered and admitted the growing feelings you harbored for your close friend.

You’re too afraid to confess your feelings as you treasured your friendship with him deeply. You would gush about how sweet he is to Annabeth, rolling yourself on your bed as blood rushed to your cheeks at the thought of him.

Little did you know he was doing the exact same thing. Confiding to Annabeth about your recent encounters, eyes lit up rivaling the shine of Apollo himself as he thinks of you.

Poor girl. Annabeth was sick of it.

But this summer, you felt a shift in your dynamic with the curly haired boy. He would eat lunch with you more often, asking you to go on more hangouts, challenged you on more duels, battles. It felt different, closer.

You were not complaining, matter of fact you were quite glad. Maybe your feelings wasn’t just one sided after all.

But as time move forwards, the closer you two get, more couple-ey interaction commends. He would tuck your hand behind your ear as you both converse, intwining your hands when your in the same path, calling you nicknames.

The more your relationship with him progressed, the more it blurred the line between friends and more. At this point, you knew he had feelings for you as well, and he too was well aware of yours.

A bubble of thought soon started clouding your mind. What were you both now? Friends? Close friends? Lovers? You don’t remember Luke asking you to be his girlfriend.

What was the nature this relationship?

You feel his grip on yours loosening as you stopped near the grey building of Cabin 6. “This is it for you, princess.”

Words rolled of his tongue like honey and you felt like a honeybee, drawn to its sweetness.

Friends don’t call each other nicknames.

Luke placed a gentle hand on your cheek, drawing closer has he placed his lips on your temple, as if he was kissing your thoughts away. “What’s got you thinking so hard since we started walking, hm?”

Your cheeks lit up like campfire at his action, he smiled noticing your flushed state.

Cute

You look up to the curly haired boy, his fingers still pressed on your cheek. What are we, Luke?

What if Luke suddenly doesn’t want you anymore because of that question?

Were you too selfish by wanting more?

Was this not enough for you?

No it wasn’t. You want to draw a clear like between friends and more, and Luke and you were shoveling a deep hole in the middle of said line.

What if he fears commitment and disappears?

“Oh no, it’s nothing Luke.” You shook your head away from his grasp, pushing all your thoughts away. “It’s late, I should probably get in.”

But before you can turn away from him, Luke was quick to grab your hand, not letting you go any further. “No, Yn. Something is clearly bothering you. And I don’t want you to go to bed with an unpleasant feeling.”

He squeezed your held hands. “Please, Yn. Is it something I’ve done?”

You were quick to deny him. “It’s not, Luke. I don’t even know it’s just. I don’t know, confusing? I think complicated is the right word.”

The dark haired boy brought your intertwined hands to his lips, kissing your forearm softly. “It’s okay take your time, darling. I’m listening.”

You sighed seeing him caress your hand gently as he brushed his lips on the skin. “It’s about us, Luke.”

Dark hues make contact with your own. “What about us?”

“What are we Luke? I don’t even know anymore.” You retracted your hand from his grasp, frustration getting a hold on you. “Friends don’t hold hands while they walk, friends don’t kiss each other’s foreheads, or hands, or even call each other nicknames.”

You look up to see the confusion written clearly on his face. “What are we, Luke Castellan?” You asked once more.

There was a moment of silent and you dreaded it. Each passing second you can hear the rustling wind, chirps of birds, and the sound of your heart falling into your stomach.

Before he finally broke it. A wholehearted chuckle graced his lips, creasing his eyes.

You scrunched your eyebrows at his reaction. Clearly displeased. Were you some joke to him?

“Luke, this is serious, why are you laughing right now?”

He quickly straightened his composure after hearing your tone. “Ehem, wait sorry. You’re serious? Is this what you’ve been worrying about?”

“Well yeah. What’s so funny about it? Am I just some joke to you?”

“No no! Yn, wait.” He placed both of his hand above your shoulders. Eyes peered at yours before genuinely asking. “Haven’t we been dating for like two months now?”

What? Confusion warps your face.

“Yn, remember? Two months ago when I took you on a picnic by the lake? I asked if you wanted to be together and you agreed to it, remember?” He tried to recall your memory.

Then it snapped.

“Oh, that was a confession? I thought you meant it in a friendly way.” Luke mentally face palmed himself and you sheepishly giggled.

“Okay maybe I was too vague with my words so let’s redo it right now yeah?” You tilted your head at him.

The dark haired boy took both of your hands from your sides, lacing them into his. “Yn L/n, daughter of Athena, one of the best warriors I’ve ever seen, wisest and the most just ever, will you take the pleasure of being my girlfriend?”

You unwind your laced fingers, your hands moving, circling themselves around the nape of his neck as his hands are now placed on the sides your waist, drawing you closer. “Hm will I?” You teased him lightly.

“Please?”

“I guess you got yourself a girlfriend, Castellan.”

You laughed against his chest. And you can feel his ribcage expanding was he laughed along with you.

You tilt your head above, standing on the tips of your toes, as you pulled him even closer than before. Your noses touch at the proximity and you could feel his breath on yours. “Is this why you’ve never kissed me before?” you hear him whisper.

“Well I am doing it right now.” You pull him in, his lips crashing with your own. His grip on your waist tightened as your hands made its way to the softness of his curls. Eyes tightly shut as you both bask in the bliss of ecstasy before pulling apart.

He leaned his forehead against yours. Giving your lip a small peck as he craves for more of you. “I don’t know if this is not obvious yet but I like you, so so much, my Yn.”

You softly giggled. “I like you just as much, my prince.”

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