#train fare is fucking expensive

[demilypyro]

Ok so my checkup went well but just paying for train fare to Amsterdam and back to reach the clinic set me back like 60 bucks. So if y'all don't mind I'm linking my ko-fi

https://ko-fi.com/demilypyro

[who-the-fuck-is-sennalye]

sometimes I think about leaving it all for a day and just taking the train as far as I can. but then I think about how pissed my dad would be if he noticed a $20 charge to my gocard so I don't.

[frick-yes-dragons]

Myki inspectors can suck my FAT PENIS

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 28 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You start to realize there could be a reason to worry when your exhaustion won't let up. Bradley is so focused on what's happening in Texas, he doesn't even realize he's missing out on what's happening at home.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Texas in August was hot as fuck. And the humidity left Bradley wishing he could jump in a pool. There was no cool, coastal breeze. There was no temperate climate. It was gross. It had him vowing to never move from San Diego for the rest of his life.

"How did I live in Virginia for so long?" he grumbled, getting dressed for his first day on base. He had the air conditioner blasting in his small room in the barracks, but he was still sweating at seven in the morning. He considered texting to see how you and Rose fared overnight without him, but it was even earlier at home, and he didn't want to wake you unnecessarily. 

He could picture you curled up on his pillow drooling, and it made him smile. But you had to do everything this week without his help, and that made his smile falter. He always tried to alleviate some of your stress by holding Rose when she fussed or walking around with her until she fell asleep. Mostly he was just in love with being a dad and wanted to spend as much time with his daughter as possible.

"Shit," he muttered when he checked the time, realizing he needed to get out of here before he was late. As soon as he stepped outside, the heat had him convinced he would sweat through his khaki uniform before he got to meet the rest of the recruits. Well, other than the ones he'd met at the bar the previous night.

LTJG Brooke Jeffries, call sign "Indigo", came to mind right away. It was no wonder how she'd earned her moniker. Her eyes were the most shocking shade of blue he'd ever seen. She tried to buy him a drink before insisting he meet several of the other aviators who were part of the program over at the pool table. Bradley stayed for a little while, careful not to let a single one of them buy him a drink. In fact, he only had the one beer with his dinner which would go directly to his expense report. The last thing he needed was one of them trying to get the upper hand or complaining that he was playing favorites.

With no clear idea of where he needed to go, Bradley wound his way along a few corridors before finding the classrooms. The facility was a lot smaller than those of North Island or even Oceana, but the rigorous training protocol at this particular airbase held a lot of promise. He was almost shocked at times that he'd been selected to decide who would advance to Top Gun.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!"

Bradley turned toward the voice and was greeted by a few Admirals. After some saluting and some chitchat, he was led to the appropriate classroom, the presence of superior officers silencing everyone in attendance. There were some more introductions before he was given control of the group, and if he was sweating because of the heat a few minutes ago, now it was because of nerves. Shit. He wanted to be as successful as possible in this role.

"Good morning. I'm Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, and I'll be spending this week observing you in the air as well as reviewing the extensive files that have been compiled for each of you. Out of three dozen aviators in attendence, a maximum of eight will be invited to join the training program at Top Gun in September. I look forward to working with you."

He could feel piercing blue eyes on him as everyone stood, adjusting their flight suits as they headed out to the tarmac to get started. Before making his way up to the tower for the duration of the day, Bradley took a few minutes to identify each aviator and answer some questions. It didn't seem to matter where he was standing, Indigo was always nearby, but her questions were pertinent. She seemed like a bit of a teacher's pet, which had never been his style, but to each their own.

Then he sent them up in the air individually and in groups so he and the admirals could take some notes as a group. It was obvious even very early on who the standouts were. After just one day, there was very little question who would be joining him in San Diego.

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

You felt terrible. Almost like you had the flu. But every time you checked, there was no fever accompanying the constant exhaustion. Of course Rose decided this week would be the opportune time to have a blowout diaper every hour all night long, leaving you in a state similar to a zombie at work.

"Come here," you whispered, picking her up at daycare after work and giving her kisses. "Your godmother is coming over for dinner, and I want you to be on your best behavior. No pooping," you told her as you pushed her through the parking garage in her stroller. She simply laughed at you in response, which was not a great sign.

It wasn't even hot out. It was beautiful weather, especially compared to what Bradley was enduring this week. Yet you still felt unbearably hot, and you had a headache. "Maybe it's a good thing we didn't go with him," you mused as you situated Rose in her car seat. "You'd be poopy and sweaty, and that's not a combination that I really feel like dealing with at the moment."

While you tried to drive home, your headache just got worse, and you really didn't now how you were going to handle making dinner. Perhaps you should just start taking some cold medication as a preventative. It wouldn't hurt anything. You changed direction to make a quick stop, because a snack sounded nice, too. Maybe you could coax Rose to go to bed right after Nat left, eat some candy and pass out yourself. At least Bradley wasn't at home to stress you out. Recently, he seemed to put you right on the edge of irritation a lot of the time, and it was nice to get a bit of a break.

You were pushing the stroller down the last aisle in the drug store when you saw something which made you freeze in place. "No," you whispered, palms starting to sweat along with the rest of you. The vague awareness that you still never got your period after Rose was born washed over you. As soon as you got back from La Jolla, where you were pretty sure Bradley pulled out, you started back on the pill again. But there was no way for you to tell if you were ovulating.

You grabbed some pregnancy tests and went straight for the registers, freaking out inside before you remembered to double back for some cold medicine just in case. Your fingers were shaking as you used your credit card to pay for everything, including two candy bars. The cashier was making a fuss over your daughter, but the sudden loud ringing in your ears was preventing you from formulating a coherent response. You grabbed your items and rushed back outside.

When you got home, Nat was already there, and tears stung your eyes when she walked across your driveway to help you carry everything inside. "How's my sweet Rose?" she asked, picking her up gently from her car seat and peppering her cheeks with kisses. Then her eyes widened briefly when she what you'd purchased at the drug store. But she didn't say a word about the pregnancy tests, and you didn't have the energy to mention it or try to make an excuse.

"I'm thinking of making spaghetti for dinner," you told her, settling on the easiest combination of pasta and store bought sauce.

"I didn't want you to have to cook for me, so I brought some hot sandwiches from the diner," she replied. "One roast beef and one turkey. You can pick the one you want, because I like both."

Your mouth was instantly watering, and when you opened the bag on your kitchen counter, it smelled so good, you could have kissed her. "Thanks for getting these," you said, quickly unwrapping both sandwiches and pulling out plates. "I'm really tired this week without Bradley here."

"I figured as much. You've got to keep this little love bug fed and played with and read to all on your own." She sat down on the couch with your daughter in her arms. "I don't understand how something that looks like Bradley can be so adorable. Logically, it doesn't make sense to me."

You snorted, cutting both sandwiches in half to share them evenly. "He insists she doesn't look anything like him."

"Oh, he's so full of crap. I mean, he's lucky your kids will also look like you, because you're beautiful."

You didn't miss the way she used the plural of the word, and you felt your anxiety spike again as you cleared your throat. "Do you want to sit in the dining room? Or at the kitchen island?"

"Whichever is easier," she replied, giving you a lingering look before shifting her attention back to Rose.

You knew it was better to take a pregnancy test first thing in the morning, but after Nat left, you couldn't stop looking at the packages on the kitchen counter. Since you bought several, you didn't see the harm in taking one of them before bed. What's the worst that could happen? You'd stay up all night in a state of nervous energy? You were barely getting any sleep this week regardless, so why not just take it?

Burping Rose and reading her bedtime story were two things your husband readily volunteered to do, but you fumbled your way through both tasks as your heart beat a little faster. You were about to take a pregnancy test. It wasn't that you didn't want to get pregnant again, you just didn't want to get pregnant again right now. Not while your firstborn was still so young, and not when you hadn't been feeling like your normal self again yet. The idea of two babies to care for was also so daunting,  you found yourself close to panicking.

You had to leave Rose in her crib to cry for a few minutes before she fell asleep, because you couldn't wait any longer. Not only did you want to pee on the stupid test just to see a result, you also felt like your bladder was going to burst if you didn't go now. You made a beeline back to the kitchen where you grabbed the boxes and your candy bars before running to your bathroom.

When you tore into the foil wrapper, you accidentally cut your finger. "Damn it!" you gasped, wrapping it up in toilet paper before you got the test ready with your other hand. You didn't know what to think as you finally let your bladder feel so much better. Chances were strong you'd need to take an additional test in the morning if you wanted to double check a negative result. You knew your hormone levels would be stronger then.

"This is pointless you whispered to yourself as you put the test on the counter and set a timer on your phone. You snatched up the candy bar, ripping the packaging open with your teeth and climbed into the empty bathtub to wait. The chocolate tasted delicious. Just as good as the sandwiches Nat brought. You wrapped the toilet paper tighter around your finger when you realized you could smell the metallic tang of blood in the air.

What were you going to do? Bradley would most certainly be pleased if it was positive. He indicated he that he couldn't care less if you were on birth control at all. If the test was negative, you wouldn't even tell him about it. You'd simply take everything out with the trash, and he'd never see it. Unless Nat said something. But you didn't think she would. Especially since you didn't metion any of this to her. That would be breaking girl code. But she was his best friend, so you weren't sure.

You took another big bite of your candy bar and thought about how long it took you to get pregnant with Rose. It was too easy to recall all of the months where you had yourself nearly convinced that it was never going to happen. How much anger and hurt you felt, wanting something your body just wasn't letting you have. And your daughter was perfect. She really was. But now you were scared for a different reason, and you only had yourself to blame for being so horny when you forgot to take your birth control pills away with you.

The fact that this candy bar tasted so good to you was becoming alarming. You could eat about ten of these in a row right now, no problem. You desperately needed to stop with the junk food and lose more weight, but you were starting to worry that there was a reason for this as you did some quick math. If you got pregnant in La Jolla, you would be about nine weeks along by now. You almost choked on the chocolate. That was practically the end of the first trimester. Maybe there was a reason you were so fucking bloated.

When your phone alarm sounded, you carefully chewed up the last of the candy as you eased yourself out of the tub to silence it. Your movements felt like slow motion as you unwrapped your finger to find just a small cut before tossing the toilet paper in the trash. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, pausing to examine your expressionless face. And before you even looked down at the test on the counter, you knew what the result was.

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

Being in a different time zone than you was annoying as hell. Bradley missed a call from you last night when he passed out as soon as he got back to his room after hitting the gym and taking a shower. Once again, he was afraid to call or text you too early and wake you this morning. Besides, he had to be in the tower soon to discuss some of his frontrunners with the admirals since he only had two more days before he flew back to San Diego. At that point, he would start planning the training exercises he would implement with these aviators come September.

Two pairs of Super Hornets were working through a dogfighting scenario when the radios in the tower crackled to life with voices. Once again, Indigo and Rex seemed like the top prospects for permanent roles at Top Gun. "They look really good," Bradley mused, scanning their list of accolades. "They're at the top of my list."

"Agreed," one of he admirals replied. "They are both a bit ruthless in the air, but they get the job done every single time."

The fact that it sounded like they were talking about Jake from five years ago almost made Bradley laugh, but that was probably the energy he needed to bring back with him. He could work some of the ruthlessness out of their systems.

"Who else do you think would fit with the program?" the other admiral asked, and Bradley was pleased to find that his notes and thoughts on all of the aviators were met with respect and agreement. His shoulders loosened, and a rush of confidence filled his veins. He'd been trying not to acknowledge how much this new role was filling him with anxiety. There was the fear of failing at his job, but he also wanted to be successful for his own personal growth. At the end of the day, knowing he was leading a well rounded team was important to him.

It was also important that he hit the gym again, or maybe go for a long run. The last few times you'd ordered pizza for dinner, he came home and inhaled half of the pie like it was nothing. When he looked in the mirror, there was definitely some more weight hanging around his middle. When he texted you, asking for some new pictures of Rose, you told him you were still at work but needed to call him as soon as you were done. He had about an hour, so he got changed and turned on his This is what a gym playlist should sound like, Bradley playlist that you made him so long ago, and he started a long run.

You were so much better at making playlists than he was, it was laughable. However the summer heat here was not laughable. Nobody else looked as beet red and sweaty as him. Maybe he was just conditioned for San Diego at this point. He wasn't really sure, but by the time he put a few miles in, he doubled back toward his barracks. When he sat down on some concrete steps at the side of the building, he held onto his phone, ready to answer your call whenever it came.

He was mopping his forehead with the hem of his UVA tee shirt when the door behind him swung open. 

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw."

Indigo's voice was now familiar to him from several conversations and the comms in the tower. "Lieutenant Jeffries," he replied as she stepped past him, also dressed for a run. He simply couldn't understand how these people weren't always pouring sweat.

"I meant to ask how you're enjoying Texas."

Bradley laughed and set his phone down on the step between his feet as she stood on the cement before him. "I'm ready to go back to San Diego and escape the heat. Not sure how you all manage here."

She smiled and ran her fingers through her jet black ponytail. "It's not so bad. I'm from Virginia, so it almost feels familiar." Her eyes slid down to his chest, reading his shirt before continuing to his left hand. "You went to UVA?"

"Yeah," he replied with a nod. "I grew up between Norfolk and Virginia Beach."

Her vibrant eyes lit up. "What a small world, Sir. We would definitely have a lot to chat about. After I run my five miles and hit the shower, I'm heading to the bar with Rex and the others. You should meet me there."

Bradley's brow furrowed as he examined her face. She was young. He knew exactly how young from poring over the individual files all week. Her expression held no trace of uncertainty, like she was expecting him to agree without question. She was one hell of a self assured pilot, but he wasn't going to start playing favorites.

"Thanks for the invitation, but I'm waiting for a phone call."

One dark brow quirked up over her blue eyes. "From your wife?"

He nodded slowly, voice deep and raspy when he spoke again. "Yeah. Hopefully my daughter, too."

Her gaze lingered on his face as she backed away from him with a soft laugh. "I'll be looking for you at the bar later."

Then she was off and running, leaving Bradley squinting into the setting sun and her retreating form. When he picked up his phone, he realized he missed your call again. 

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

Bradley, please focus on your family. One more chapter of him in Texas, and then we'll see what follows him home. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 29

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[xythlia]

⎙ — 𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐓𝐎𝐘.𝐓𝐎𝐑

› WELCOME TO THE RED ROOM... RESERVED FOR GUESTS OF PARTICULAR TASTES

› toji x f!reader

› word count : 2k+

- ̗̀໒ warnings : sex work, on camera, choking, my spit kink shining thru again, biting, backshots, (1) ass smack, fingering, cervix fucking, reader has hair long enough to pull, squirting, rough sex, full nelson, creampie

You take a drag of your cigarette, bleary sleep deprived eyes doing their best to focus on the obnoxious flashing neon sign. WE'VE GOT A DOLL FOR EVERY TASTE. It makes you scoff as you grind the but out beneath your scuffed shoe, that's all they think of you all as, dolls. Props that just so happen to moan and squirt.

For the most part you keep your complaints to yourself, money is money. Not that this was what you ever pictured you'd land on as a career but it could always be worse.

Exhaling the last of the crisp night air from your lungs you pull open the sleek silver backdoor to Cloud Nine. The back hallways are made up of dim, twisting corridors. Some lead to the back offices, to security, but as you hook a left to brush past a tinkling bead curtain you're met with the large open dressing room you all share.

You prefer to spend as little time back here as possible, doing the bulk of your prep at your apartment before you're on for the night. You can't stand their mindless, giddy chatter. It also prevents you from getting attached to any of them, or taking on a puppy so to speak.

Before you can finish tucking your bag and coat away in the dingy locker your floor manager is waving a piece of paper in your face.

It makes your stomach flip.

"You got swapped, Angel can't do the red room and you're the only other experienced girl in tonight."

The red room was only ever offered on nights an experienced doll was on the floor, since the people reserving red rooms always have a... particular taste in mind. Newer girls wouldn't be able to handle it. As much of an annoyance as it is to be switched with so little notice, you don't mind. It can get dull shaking your ass for run of the mill patrons all night, plus the red room is where the real money is.

"One or-?" You ask vaguely.

"One guy, don't keep him waiting alright?" She says dismissively.

You grab the piece of paper, the list of what you will and strictly won't do for a red room service. It was standard fare: creampie, light sadism, degradation, ect. Since it wasn't too extreme you didn't bother filling it out, it's easier to just tell the guy.

It's not far to the private rooms, and part of you is more than a little eager to see just who reserved one of these eye wateringly expensive sessions.

Even bathed in the dim red lights you could tell he was attractive, dark hair and eyes that held something elusive even though he kept contact with your own.

"I didn't bother filling this out, nothing you requested is off limits for me." You smile as you let the paper flutter to the floor, taking the seat beside him on the plush lounge.

Out of the corner of your eye you see the blinking light on the camera, he already set it up to record. It makes you quirk a brow at him, usually even the most gutsy ones are a little camera shy.

He smirks at you. "I'll be gentle."

With the way he says it you know it's a lie.

With a grin you lay back, propping a pillow under your head and trying not to focus on that little green recording light in your peripheral. The worst part is being filmed, but that's part of the rooms appeal. These guys pay for the ability to record the entire session not just for being able to fuck someone with no holds bared, but the catch is the club also gets to upload it.

The feeling of his skin brushing against yours cracks your train of thought. His fingertips are calloused, hands rough but he doesn't have the look of a working man. As those fingertips caress a trail down your inner thighs you shiver, letting out a quiet gasp.

"Puttin' on a show?" He purrs.

You give a breathy giggle, winding your arms around his muscles back as he leans over you between your legs. "Isn't that what you paid for?"

He pushes against you, lips brushing experimentally against yours, and deepens it to something harsh and hungry when he feels you start to squirm beneath him. His touch feels like fire, scorching a path across your skin with every grope and fondle of your body. You feel a familiar sensation of dizziness, of lightheadedness; every movement is skilled and purposeful, a deliberate attempt to steal the breath from your lungs and leave you choking on your own spit.

His lips begin to make their way down your neck, sucking hard against the delicate skin and making you groan with every nip of his teeth. In a daze you help him undo the straps of your barely there top, head tipping back when his mouth finds one of your nipples. They get the same rough treatment as your throat, and he gives a particularly sharp graze of his teeth clearly just to hear you yelp.

Your hands cup your breasts, kneading them, as his mouth dips marks a path down your stomach. Caught up in your own eagerness you wiggle your hips slightly, anticipating what's coming only to feel him grip your legs and yank you down further. The suddenness makes you wince, propping on your elbows to see just what he has in mind.

The way he's looking at you, with such debauched hunger it sends butterflies off in your chest. You don't even know his name but you know this is the kind of man a red room was designed for. As he leans forward again between your legs you feel his erection press hard against you, making the fabric of your panties slide against your clit with delicious friction.

Before you can ask, beg, for more his thick fingers glide up the column of your throat and press hard against the sides. Squeezing against your carotid artery and making your mouth drop open. As soon as your lips part you see the shimmer against his bottom lip, watch in fascination as a thick clear string of spit comes down to meet your tongue.

Sucking his lip he brings his face barely an inch from yours, through the fuzz of your restricted blood supply you notice a scar on the corner of his mouth.

"I didn't pay for you to look at the fuckin' camera." His voice is low, gutteral.

The second he lets go your body is automatically sucking air into your lungs, hard and sputtering as you lift your hips up to grind against him. In one smooth movement, before you can even process it properly, he's got you flipped on your stomach and pulling your ass up and back.

Your cheek presses against the plush fabric, eyes squeezed shut feeling his fingers run over your damp panties. There's not even enough time to relish in the contact before two fingers have the fabric pulled to the side, his knuckles sliding past the ring of muscle makes you moan against the lounge seat.

Hearing the soft shuffling of clothes you know he's undressing, even while his other hand is occupied with keeping his fingers scissoring against your slick walls. The sudden emptiness of his fingers withdrawing was quickly replaced by the head of his cock sliding through your arousal, making you suck in a sharp breath.

Just from that little contact you can feel he's got girth and heft, excitement makes you dig your nails into the lounge and press your chest down against it, keeping your ass higher.

You hear him scoff and the sting of his hand coming down hard against your skin makes you cry out, but it's nothing compared to the biting pain as the swollen head pushes against your soaked hole. The stretch is agonizing, you're not sure any amount of prep would've been sufficient. You groan, bottom lip caught in your teeth as you feel the fabric against your face getting wet with the spit seeping from the corners of your mouth.

He doesn't wait for you to adjust before slamming his hips against your ass, hard enough to make your breathing hitch in your throat, and you can feel him brushing against your cervix. The pace is brutal, making your body jostle and shake with each thrust.

Slick squelching mingles with the sound of skin smacking skin to form a perverse melody that only heightens the tension building in your gut. Frantically you slide one hand down to rub you neglected, aching clit but before you can make contact he's got you pulled up by a fistful of your hair. The sting of pain makes tears prick in your waterline as blubbering moans spill from your lips.

The way your body rocks forward with every brush of his cock against your cervix, the way his girth makes your cunt feel overstuffed, it all makes your head spin. His grunts join the obscene cacophony of sounds along with your whines when he lets go of your hair to support your body with one arm while his other hand catches your jaw in a bruising grip.

You squirm, feeling the hot tracks of tears slipping down your cheeks but his hold is steadfast. If you had more presence of mind you'd swear you could feel your heartbeat not just through your entire body but in your cunt too.

As you dissolve in his hold, a crying whimpering mess, he pushes you back down face first into the lounge, holding you by the scruff as he repositions to hit deeper. Your moans fracture into gasps and hiccups as you clench down around him, finally able to rub frenzied circles around your clit and feel that compressed coil snap inside you.

The lounge becomes incredibly damp around your knees and your brain feels as if it's coated in sticky, thick honey.

You whimper pathetically as he yanks you up again, never breaking his pace, forces you to look straight into that ever blinking green light.

"Not all you can take is it?" He sneers, hooking fingers into your mouth and whatever reply you had gets lost in the garbled sounds you choke out around them.

When he suddenly pulls out you groan, body feeling exhausted and boneless on the comedown from your orgasm but he isn't done with you yet. He lays on his back, supporting you on top of him as he makes sure your pussy faces the cameras lens and slips back inside you.

Your eyes roll back as you struggle to help support your own weight. It catches you off guard when pulls you down so your back is pressed against his chest, both of your bodies slick with sweat and various other fluids. His arms loop beneath yours and his fingers lock together behind your neck, making your breaths come in wheezed yelps and your legs automatically rise up.

The muscles in your thighs are screaming from the strain and your lungs burn again, you feel yourself camping around him, walls throbbing and sucking his cock back in with every thrust.

You can't help but sob and blubber hoarsely, begging to cum again with every sharp upswing of his hips. His pace breaks up quickly the tighter you squeeze him, devolving into sloppy thrusts until you feel his cock throb inside you. Warm, sticky heat spreads inside you and you sigh brokenly in his hold.

The cameras unfeeling, fish eye lens catches the creamy white rings forming on his cock, the way his cum drips out of your sore pussy when he slides out of you with a throaty, satisfied groan.

You grin, slow and lazy up at the ceiling. Red room sessions aren't just about the money, they're the most... fulfilling.

[thehereticdiaries]

Into the Wonderland: Chapter Three

Chapter Summary: You suck at using the subway. You have an eventful afternoon with the pack, then a jarring phone call with your mom. After a month, you and Hongjoong have an important discussion. This is a LONG one

Warnings: Nightmares, some symptoms of ptsd, anxiety, insomia

Series Masterlist

The rest of your classes went by without incident. You stood in front of the map of the subway lines, attempting to decipher what the jumble of colored lines meant. Even though you’ve lived in Korea for nearly half your life, the subway never got easier for you to understand. You avoided it like the plague, only ever going when absolutely necessary and usually with another person. But you had to get from Seoul National University to Mapo-gu, and the bus fares would have been too expensive. 

Your classes finished nearly an hour ago. You should have gotten to the dorms by now. And yet here you were, hopelessly lost in the subway. Your shoulders ached from the weight of your textbooks. You wanted nothing more than to collapse onto the pack’s couch, but you had absolutely no idea where you were. So you swallowed your pride and called Hongjoong.

“Y/N? Are you alright? You should’ve gotten here by now,” the alpha’s voice was laced with concern. 

“I’m fine. It’s just, uh,” you sighed heavily. “I’m lost.” 

“Lost?”

“Yeah, I don’t usually take the subway. It’s too confusing. I have no idea where I am,” you admitted, leaning against a wall to ease the pressure on your shoulders.

“What station are you at?” You groaned and trudged over to the map. Whoever invented the “you are here” arrows was a genius in your mind.

“I’m at Ganseok.”

“Ganseok?! How the hell did you end up over there?” Hongjoong exclaimed. You were certain that he was pacing whatever room he was in.

“I don’t know!” You whined. “Can you maybe give me directions over the phone?”

“No need, just sit tight for a few minutes. Mingi is over that way, he’ll come grab you.” You sighed in relief, exchanging a quick goodbye then flopping onto a nearby bench. You hunched in on yourself, rubbing your temples in an attempt to stave off your growing headache. 

“Hey there, pretty girl.” You look up to Mingi smiling at you from behind his mask. “Heard you got lost?” 

“Mhm.” You stood and pressed your forehead into his shoulder. He laughed and pulled you along by your hand, getting on the correct train. You basked in the sunlight after you emerged from the subway. “God, it felt like I was down there for-fucking-ever.”

“Come on, we only have to walk a little further,” Mingi urged you forward. You walked side-by-side, occasionally glancing up at the tall alpha. Even with his mask on, you could see the worry in his face, evident by the twitch of his neck and furrowed eyebrows.

“Mingi, are you okay?” He hummed and looked down at you, briefly, but you caught the guilt in his eyes. You pulled him to the side so you faced each other without blocking the sidewalk. “What’s going on?”

“Honestly, I’m having some really conflicting emotions right now.” You waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. He held your hand, running his thumb across your knuckles. 

“I’m incredibly proud to have such a smart and driven person as my mate. But there’s a part of me, my more primal side, that doesn’t want you to work. It’s outdated, but I want to be the one providing for you,” he explained. “Obviously I’m not gonna try to stop you, but–”

“Mingi,” you interrupted. “I understand what you’re saying. It’s part of your nature, but the fact that you’re acknowledging it and working past it is really reassuring.” The tension slowly melted from his shoulders. 

“Do you have a job now?” Mingi asked as you continued toward the dorms. 

“A part-time job. It doesn’t pay much, but it’s good for pocket change.”

“How are you paying for your apartment?” He cringed. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

“It’s fine. The apartment was my grandmother’s. She managed to buy it when she was in her 50s, and she left it to me when she passed.” You swung your joined hands back and forth. “My mom travels a lot for work. She was happy that my grandmom gave me a way to focus on school rather than worrying about rent.”

“That’s really sweet,” Mingi cooed at you, causing you to roll your eyes. You continued an easy conversation for the rest of the short walk. After entering the dorms, he pressed a quick kiss to the crown of your head then moved down a hallway, presumably to his room or an office. You were greeted by San and Wooyoung in the living room, dropping your backpack next to the coffee table with a heavy thud.

“Jesus, what do you have in there?” Wooyoung’s eyes widened. 

“Four textbooks and my laptop.” You rolled your shoulders, feeling much lighter without your backpack weighing you down. When you were close enough, Wooyoung pulled you down to sit on San’s lap, maneuvering your legs onto his own. San wrapped his arms around your waist as you relaxed into his chest.

“Gross, why not use e-books?” The shorter beta rubbed circles on your knees. 

“Too expensive. These are used rentals. It’s a lot heavier but a lot more budget-friendly,” you shrugged. 

“We can help, if you want,” San offered. You shook your head.

“This semester’s almost over. I’ll be returning them soon. Maybe next semester as long as they aren’t crazy pricey.” Wooyoung snorted.

“Honey, I don’t mean to brag, but I don’t think a couple of textbooks are gonna break the bank for us.” You scrunched your brows at him. “We’re idols, we can handle buying a few books.”

“Oh, that must be what Mingi was talking about earlier,” realization dawned on you. Wooyoung tilted his head, but you waved him off. “I don’t really know a lot about k-pop, to be honest. I’ve mostly been listening to classical and video game soundtracks. They help me focus.”

“Luckily we’re on a break right now,” San spoke up. “But we are going to have to figure out what we’re going to do when we start touring again.”

“I’m fairly certain I can get a remote position, but I’ll have to do some digging.” You added a note to your to-do list on your phone. 

“So,” Wooyoung started. “Our super smart omega can’t figure out the subway system?” You glared at his shit-eating grin.

“I’m good with science, not geography,” you retorted. He cackled at your annoyed pout. 

“Oh, you poor thing.” Wooyoung pinched your thigh. You jolted in San’s lap.

“Ow!” You yelped, kicking his hand away. San tightened his grip on you, moving his hands to keep your hips still.

“Stop wiggling, or we’re going to have some issues,” San warned, looking pointedly at his fellow beta. You froze, feeling your face grow slightly warmer at the implication. Wooyoung smirked deviously, pinching your other thigh. You jumped instinctively and San had to take a deep breath to keep his composure.

“Something wrong, San?” Wooyoung prodded, stifling his giggles.

“Wooyoung,” San borderline growled. “Keep it up, and it’ll be your mouth I fuck.” There was a beat of tense silence. The betas stared each other down, each daring the other to make a move. Wooyoung tugged on your leg, dragging you across San’s lap. Not even a second later, you were placed on the cushion and San was chasing Wooyoung down the same hallway Mingi disappeared through earlier. 

“What’s that look for?” Seonghwa chuckled at your bewildered expression as he walked into the living room. 

“San and Wooyoung…” You trailed off. Seonghwa shook his head, he could only imagine what kind of trouble those two got into.

“Come on.” The elder omega gestured for you to follow him. “Yeosang and I wanted to talk with you for a bit.” You followed him down the hall and into the first door on the left. Yeosang and Jongho sat on their respective beds. One look from Seonghwa had Jongho up and leaving, muttering something about getting a snack. 

“Did you have to kick him out? It’s his room, I feel bad,” you faltered by the now-closed bedroom door.

“He’ll be fine. I wanted to have a chat between just the omegas.” Seonghwa patted the bed next to him. You laid on your stomach, propped up by your elbows, with Seonghwa on his side to your left and Yeosang sitting criss-cross against the headboard.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you want to talk about my heat.” You looked between them and Yeosang nodded. “Before we do, I wanted to ask if there are any other mated pairs in the pack.” 

“Seonghwa and San, San and Wooyoung, and Wooyoung and me,” Yeosang summed up very concisely. You raised your eyebrows.

“Wow, only beta and omega mates? I’m surprised none of the alphas are mated yet,” you commented. That at least explains what happened with San and Wooyoung. 

“When is your next heat?” Seonghwa was back to business. You checked your phone calendar. 

“Should be in a month and a half.” 

“What?!” Seonghwa sat up straight. “Y/N, that’s way too long.” They exchanged a look before returning their attention to you.

“No, it’s okay. I’m on a combination suppressant and birth control,” you explained. “My heats used to be so painful that I could hardly get out of bed, and I would throw up anything I tried to eat. I have three months between heats now.” 

“Is that safe, though?” Yeosang questioned. You felt fuzzy from their attentiveness, but it made sense with you being the youngest omega. Actually, the only member you were older than was Jongho.

“It is,” you reassured. “My doctor is also an omega, and she was on the team that developed this medication. It went through rigorous testing. There’s no lasting impact on reproductive health.”

“Are there side effects?” Seonghwa sank back down into the comforter. 

“Nothing too terrible. I was nauseous when I first started it, but that’s gone now. There’s really only one major side effect. Since my heats are further apart now, I get much more, uhhh, needy during them.” You hid your blushing cheeks behind your hands. 

“Okay, and how do you normally handle your heats?” 

“Same as anyone else, I guess. I load up my apartment with plenty of food and water, then lock myself inside and get myself off a fuck ton until it’s over,” you cringed at yourself, you could’ve been less crass in your explanation. 

“You’ve never had an alpha help?” Seonghwa’s eyebrows raised. You pursed your lips.

“I’ve never had anyone help. I haven’t gone past second base, I’ve been too focused on school,” you admit, now a little nervous under their intense stare. “Is, uh, is that an issue?”

“No, no of course not. Hongjoong’s gonna have a field day when he finds out, though,” Yeosang giggled even as Seonghwa swatted his knee. 

“That actually does lead into my next question,” Seonghwa sighed and turned his attention back to you. “Do you want help?” You nearly choke on your own spit.

“Are you offering?” 

“Yes and no. The only one that’s going to help in your first heat with our pack is Hongjoong. I can be there to make sure you’re comfortable, hydrated, and fed, but he’ll be the only one that touches you.” You gaped at your elder. 

“Why?”

“Pack alphas always go first,” Yeosang chimed in. “Wooyoung and San definitely weren’t happy about it, but that’s how the hierarchy works.”

“Seems barbaric.” You scrunched up your nose. 

“I think it’s a respect thing,” Yeosang reckoned.

“Anyway,” Seonghwa interjected. “You don’t have to decide now, since we have a while before your heat, but you are going to have to talk to Hongjoong about that and about your claim mark.” You nodded slowly.

“Alright, I’ll have to think on it.” You spent the next couple of hours chatting and relaxing with your fellow omegas. After eating dinner, everyone gathered in the living room so you could continue getting to know your new packmates. Eventually, you had to go back to your apartment to sleep and prep for classes tomorrow. In the quiet of your bedroom, it dawned on you that you haven’t told your mom about what happened. It was getting late for you, but in London your mom should be in the middle of her work day. You sent her a quick text asking her to call, and seconds later her contact popped up.

“Hi mom!”

“Hi, honey, is everything okay? You don’t normally call this late,” your mom fretted over the line.

“I’m okay, but I’ve had a lot happen the past couple days.” You launched into a detailed retelling of everything that happened with Marcus and your new pack. Thankfully, your mom was used to your long-winded stories and tangents. 

“Well, I’m very happy that you found both your pack and your mates,” your mom started once you were finished. “But, darling, are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Y/N.” You bristled at the use of your name. She only did that when she was serious. “You were assaulted. A classmate almost took your independence from you. Are you really okay?” Your face fell. The wave of emotions you didn’t even know you were suppressing crashed into you all at once. 

“I don’t know,” you choked on a sob. 

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry I can’t be there for you right now,” your mom apologized. Your body shook in your effort to smother your cries. “I don’t think you should be alone right now. Maybe you should call Hongjoong?”

“No,” you took a deep, shuddering breath. “No, I'll be fine. I just need some sleep.”

“Alright.” You heard the hesitation in her voice. “If you’re sure. But don’t be afraid to go to them. I’m trusting that they’ll take care of you when I can’t.” You sniffled, exchanging quick goodbyes and descending into a stifling silence. You swiped at the tears running down your face. You just need sleep. You were fine. You turned off your lamp and burrowed into your pillows. 

“It would be best for you to listen when an alpha is speaking.

I see the way you look at me in class.

You want me just as bad as I want you.

Your scent is always sweeter when you look at me.”

Fingers dig into the back of your neck. Teeth scrape against your skin. You hesitated too long. Teeth sink into your scent gland. You went limp against his hold. He grins against your neck.

“You’re mine, Y/N.”

You shot upright in bed, screaming in the darkness of your bedroom. You grabbed at your neck in a panic, relaxing slightly at the unbroken skin. The brightness of your phone blinded you for a moment. 3am. You buried your face in your hands, feeling the headache building beneath your temples. Reluctantly, you got out of bed and opened your laptop. You definitely weren’t going to get any more sleep tonight, so you might as well get some schoolwork done.

Over the next month, you spent less and less time at your own apartment, really only leaving the dorm to sleep or if you needed the quiet to study. Most nights, when you were alone in the dark, you were plagued by nightmares of Marcus. You hated that he was having such an impact on your psyche. Sometimes you could fall back asleep for a few hours, but you usually ended up on your laptop. It was great for your classes, since you were getting assignments done fairly quickly, but the dark circles under your eyes gave away just how exhausted you were. 

You hoped that your pack didn’t notice the sudden increase in concealer, but nothing escaped the keen eyes of Hongjoong. Especially when it came to the health of his omegas. He tried to wait for you to come to him, however as the days passed by he knew you weren’t going to ask for help. So tonight he asked to come back to your apartment with the excuse of wanting to focus on a new mix. Thankfully, you agreed. About an hour had passed with the two of you silently tapping away on your laptops. He kept glancing at you, noticing the way you had to shake yourself awake every few minutes. 

“Y/N,” Hongjoong spoke up after the fifth time you dozed off sitting up. You jumped at the broken silence. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” You refused to meet the alpha’s eyes.

“Please don’t do that. Don’t pretend you aren’t exhausted.” He gently closed your laptop, setting it on the coffee table next to his. 

“I’m okay.”

“You’re not, though. I can see it, you’ve been tired and jumpy. Please tell me what’s going on,” he pleaded, cupping your cheek and smiling when you nuzzled closer. 

“I’ve been having nightmares,” you admitted after a brief pause. Hongjoong tensed at the tears shining in your eyes. He pulled you onto his lap, chest-to-chest and knees on either side of his hips. Your resolve broke down. Your body shook with sobs as you buried your face in his neck and clung to his shirt. He cradled the back of your head with one hand, the other running along your back. 

“Baby, what are the nightmares about?” Hongjoong asked when your breathing evened out a bit. 

“Marcus,” you mumbled into his shirt. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I keep hearing what he said to me, how his teeth felt on my neck. I can’t stop thinking about what would’ve happened if I had hesitated even a second longer.”

“Mingi went too easy on that bastard. I swear to god, if he touches you again I’ll fucking kill him.” Hongjoong was seething. He hated the fear permeating your scent. He never wanted to smell it again.

“Don’t. You can’t go to prison, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Hongjoong pulled you tighter against his chest. “Will you stay the night?”

“Of course,” he answered without hesitation. You stayed like that for a while, letting his scent ease your nerves. Something else gnawed at the back of your mind.

“Hongjoong?” He hummed for you to continue. “I talked with Seonghwa and Yeosang a couple of weeks ago. I wanted to ask you if you’d be okay being there for my next heat.” Hongjoong pulled you to sit up, holding your face with both hands.

“Are you sure? I can be… intense,” he asked, scanning your eyes for any sign of hesitation.

“I’m sure.” You took a deep breath. “I also want to ask for my bond marks. Both of them.” A wide grin spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. 

“God, you’re perfect,” he sighed and pulled you into a searing kiss. One of his hands trailed down to your hip as he slid his tongue across yours. You pulled back, panting slightly. 

“Can I have the pack bond now? Please?” You looked at him with big, doe eyes, still shining with unshed tears. Hongjoong groaned, digging his fingers into your hip and crashing his lips back into yours. 

“You want it?” His breath tickled your neck. He pressed feather-light kisses down to your scent gland.

“Please,” you whined at his teasing. He smirked against your skin, tongue darting out to lick the sensitive skin of your gland.

“You’re pretty when you beg.” His teeth sank into your skin and you gasped, face red from his words and the onslaught of emotions coming from the new bond. He leaned back to admire the fresh wound on your neck. Hongjoong pulled the collar of his shirt to the side, exposing the multiple marks on his pack scent gland.

“Can I…” 

“Go ahead, sweetheart.” You immediately bit down to add your own mark, not interested in teasing him the way he did to you. His eyes rolled back. “Damn, not even a warning, huh?” 

“Shut up,” you mumbled, but refused to lift your forehead from his collarbone. He chuckled lightly.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” Hongjoong stood with you in his arms, moving to your bedroom. You both were already in comfortable clothes, so you settled down under your comforter. With your nose pressed against the new bite on his neck, you slept through the night for the first time in weeks.

Author's note: Yea, yea I know the heat discussion was very similar to the one in Pack Mentality. It's important to set boundaries!! Consent is everything!

Permanent Taglist: @furfoxsake22 @babygirlskz98 @miniverse-zen @holly-here

Series Taglist: @popcatx0 @m00njinnie @awkward-fucking-thing @fr34k4c1dr41n

[slaymitchabernathy]

Keepsake

| a companion to 'Visiting Day' |

Coriolanus can’t stop staring at it.

He’s been sitting on the edge of his small cot for the past five minutes just staring at the small photograph in his hands.

This photograph should be framed and put in museums.

He had gotten a letter today, which he expected, she always writes to him. But he hadn’t expected this particular photograph to be a part of the letter.

Being stationed in District Twelve has been less than desirable, but, Coriolanus often reminds himself of what's waiting for him back home in the Capitol. A diploma commending his time spent serving his country for starters, an extra credit towards his studies at the University, the fame and glory that will come his way since he's one of the only people in his year to take on this task, and of course, his loving girlfriend Soarynn Nightingale.

He saw her two months ago when she came to visit, six hours had never gone by so fast before. He has less than two weeks left but it feels like years now that the light at the end of the tunnel is in sight. And this photograph is not helping.

Soarynn has sent him lots of photos before, photos of her and Petunia, photos of her and her friends, and more photos of Petunia, he's used to getting photos from Soarynn. He's got a drawer full of them.

But this photo will be taken to the grave.

It's a photo of her in white lingerie, beautiful lingerie at that.

The bralette pushes up her breasts while her hands press against her hips, giving him a peek at the panties she's wearing. This must be a part of some intricate set with garters and thigh highs and yet she's teasing him by cutting the picture off at her hips.

That little vixen.

He'd be lying to himself if he said that he didn't constantly think about their little reunion on visiting day, how tightly her cunt wrapped around him, how breathy her moans were, and how soft her skin was. Living with stinky men caused Coriolanus to find a whole new sense of gratitude for his girlfriend who was always so feminine and gentle.

No, six hours had not been enough time.

And the amount of comments he got about her after the visit was astounding. Men were absolutely floored at the fact that Coriolanus had the most beautiful girl they'd ever seen on his arm. Some of them couldn't believe that she was truly his but Coriolanus wasn't surprised at all.

To him, it made perfect sense.

Soarynn Nightingale is a beautiful girl, one might even say the most beautiful in all of Panem, therefore enabling her to pick whoever she wanted to be her future husband. So considering her wide array of choices, she'd want someone of equal status and importance, someone who was also attractive, who dressed well and was well versed in Capitol etiquette. Someone who could take care of her, shower her with gifts and expensive trips.

Someone like Coriolanus Snow.

Coriolanus prided himself in how well he took care of Soarynn, ensuring she was always safe, warm, fed, and properly fucked to her liking.

But this photograph might push him over the edge.

Coriolanus carefully sets the photograph on the bed next to him and his fingers fumble to open up the letter she sent him.

To my beloved Coryo, Not a day goes by that I do not think about you, my love. The penthouse feels so empty without you to fill it with your presence. Our friends ask about you constantly, and I assure them that you are still dutifully serving your country without fail. My studies have been faring well, my exams have been easier than I anticipated and I should finish this semester with excellent grades. I can't wait to have you back by my side while studying in the library or strolling through the University courtyard between classes. Petunia misses you dearly, just the other day I found her asleep with one of your socks in her paws. Should I bring her to the train station when I pick you up? Please let me know in advance. I must admit that our reunion all those weeks ago has left me longing for you more than ever before. No one knows my body like you do, including myself. I can't wait for you to come home so we can have a true and proper reunion, no sergeants or soldiers yelling in the background. I've sent a sneak peek of what's waiting for you when you come back home, I went shopping with the girls the other day and they convinced me to buy some new lingerie pieces. I hope this set is to your liking. This photo can serve as a keepsake until we're reunited. My heart is always with you my darling, please keep yourself safe. I can't wait to become Mrs. Snow when you return. Love, Soarynn

Coriolanus runs his fingers over his curls, remembering how it felt when she tugged at them while he ate her out. He remembers how sweet she tasted, how she whimpered so desperately for him.

This photo is going to be the death of him.

Coriolanus glances down at his wristwatch, twenty minutes until it's time for dinner which means he's just getting closer and closer to getting the hell out of here. But it also means that he has a little bit of time to take care of the problem that Soarynn has unknowingly created for him in his boxers.

Coriolanus sighs and unzips his pants, slowly reaching his hand to take hold of his hardened length. Never in his life has he ever had to do this himself, not when Soarynn always offered up her own hands, mouth, or cunt. He always prefers the last one.

But desperate times call for desperate measures.

He quietly sighs once his hand slips under the waistband of his boxers, finally skin on skin. He does his best to recreate how Soarynn usually does it but it just feels so much better when she does it with her dainty little hand and those blue-gray eyes batting up at him as if she's so innocent.

And he usually has at least two fingers lodged in her cunt while she's doing it so that always makes it more fun for him.

"Fuck," he mutters, increasing the pace of his strokes, grabbing the photo with his other hand to get a better look at it. He imagines what it'll be like to have that body on top of him again, to have her skin beneath his hands while he manipulates her body.

He tries to imagine her whimpers, her moans, and gasps while he fucks up into her.

"Oh fuck Soarynn," he grunts, giving his cock one last final stroke before he finishes in his hand.

His forehead is sweaty, and his boxers are now ruined.

Coriolanus takes in a sharp breath once he starts to calm down, settling back into the shitty reality that is living in District Twelve for two more weeks.

But that doesn't excuse him being late for dinner so he makes his way into the bathroom to wash his hands and change out of his pants and into new ones. He tosses his boxers into the wastebin and assesses his appearance in the mirror one last time before walking back into his small room.

He takes the photograph and tucks it beneath the pile of other photos she's sent him over the past few months, making sure it's out of sight for anyone who might dare to rifle through his things.

He'll have to write her once he gets back from dinner.

꧁ ꧂

To my darling girl, I can't wait to have you back in my arms my love, these next few weeks are sure to be sheer torture for my heart and me. Not a day goes by where I do not think of you and the joy you bring me, you simply light up my life. As for bringing Petunia to the train station, please don't. I would be lying if I said that the photo you sent me didn't have a large effect on me and my body, it's been so long since I've felt your touch and I can't wait to experience it again. I'm so proud of you and your studies, you've always been so inclined when it comes to your academics and I can't wait to roam the University halls together once again. I will be thinking of you every moment leading up to our reunion. Take care of yourself, my darling girl, for you are my entire future. Love , Coryo

꧁ ꧂

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[justpostsyeet]

Mîr Vin Universe Origin Ch 3

A/n - Sorry for the delay. I just delved to deep into what will Elves think of the technology and items unfamiliar to them. I made way to much dialogues for it and the chapter became too long. So, I removed it all together. If you want to read it I'll but it in a bonus chapter.

Any back to the story

As the elves delved into the mysterious woman’s belongings, their initial intent to find potential harm transformed into an intriguing exploration of unfamiliar artifacts. Among the items, they discovered clothing of a similar fashion to what she wore, confirming the uniqueness of her attire. Strips of expensive fabric hinted at a meticulous attention to detail in her possessions. The food items, unlike anything seen in Elven or Middle-earth cultures, sparked curiosity. Exotic aromas wafted from packages that bore no resemblance to the lembas or other fare known to the elves. Moreover, the elves encountered objects previously unseen in Middle-earth. Mysterious in both form and material, these items were beyond their realm of knowledge. They exchanged glances, realizing that the answers to the woman’s origins might be hidden within these enigmatic possessions.

 The mystery deepened, drawing them further into the enigma that had unexpectedly arrived at their haven but their curiosity was put in hold because of the maid servant announced that the creature woke up, behaved Frantically and fell into fitifull sleep again. They all exited to see the creature

As the woman stirred, her eyes gradually opening to the unfamiliar surroundings, the elves observed her with a sense of reverence. The air was charged with anticipation, for in her waking moments lay the promise of unlocking the enigma that had woven itself into the fabric of their haven.

Glorfindel looked at the creature, she looked restless right now. Her pretty features were marked with distress. The woman began to stir again. Glorfindel could feel Gildor’s posture suddenly going rigid. The woman woke up again, looked at them with a bewildered face and blurted out something in foreign tongue which Glorfindel could only make out as

“What the Fuck”

 

 In the hazy moments between sleep and wakefulness, she felt the disorienting shift from the rhythmic motion of the train to an unfamiliar stillness. Her eyes fluttered open, searching for the familiar contours of her train compartment, but instead, she found herself in a spacious room filled with vibrant colors. A jolt of panic surged through her as she realized she wasn’t alone. The bed beneath her was soft, unlike the cold, impersonal surfaces she associated with kidnapper scenarios in movies. The room exuded warmth, a stark contrast to the chill of fear that gripped her. With trembling hands, she reached for the glasses she habitually kept within arm’s reach. The world around her remained a blur, causing her heart to pound against her chest. The absence of visual clarity heightened her sense of vulnerability. Where was she? How did she end up in this unfamiliar place?

As she fumbled for her glasses, her fingertips grazed a loose tunic of soft cotton that draped over her. It wasn’t the attire she remembered wearing when she fell asleep on the train. Her hair, usually secured in a bun, cascaded freely down her shoulders. She could make out were she was but everything felt like blurry shaking mess. The spaciousness of the room and the absence of ominous shadows began to alleviate the intensity of her disorientation. She fell down on the bed again.

The next time, she was awake of her surrounding. She dared not open her eyes fearing that realistic nightmare was a reality. She started to feel her surroundings, the warm blanket embracing her form, the gentle lighting that bathed the room, and the absence of any immediate threat. So, she was still here. It was not a dream. Her heart pounded in her chest. Everything felt too much. She couldfeel her body trembling. The question lingered—how had she transitioned from a moving train to this mysterious haven?

She refused to open her eyes till her heartbeat began to slow down. As her racing heart began to steady, she pondered the possibilities. Was it a dream? A delusion? Or had she truly been transported to a place beyond her understanding? The answers lay shrouded in the enigma of the unfamiliar room, waiting to be unveiled as she navigated this unexpected journey. She finally found courage to open her eyes. In the disorienting blur without her glasses, she found herself surrounded by figures draped in unfamiliar attire. Their voices melded into a symphony of incomprehensible sounds, leaving her bewildered and struggling to make sense of the situation. She saw tall figures standing near her bed. She screamed "What the fuck!".

She looked frantically to see clearing, her hands flying around her to find her glasses but everything seemed different. She felt like she couldn't breathe. She closed her eyes again. No, this is not real, she thought to herself, just take a deep breath, even if its real, its better to face reality with less adrenaline rush. She heard an unknown voice speaking in an unfamiliar language.

"Please let me focus", She muttered but incomprehensible chatter continued. The voices seemed to get closer to her. She decided to face them. She opened her eyes again. The figures were closer. The were....men dressed in.....robes?They were speaking something but she couldn't understand a word. She attempted to respond, her words stumbling in an attempt to bridge the linguistic gap.

Wait, where am I? Can anyone understand me?”

 The room echoed with a language she couldn’t grasp, and the figures, seeming more like shadows in her blurred vision, continued their conversation in more unintelligible speech. As the frustration of being unable to communicate mounted, her panic intensified. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision even further. The alien surroundings, the strange language, and the inability to make herself understood became overwhelming.

“Please, someone, help me understand. Where am I?

The figures exchanged glances, their expressions indecipherable. One of them, seemingly perceiving her distress, gestured for her to follow. With a mixture of fear and desperation, she stumbled after the shadowy figure, her cries echoing in the unfamiliar room.

 “Why can’t you understand me? Where am I going?”, she muttered to herself while walking.

The figures continued conversing amongst themselves, the strange language closing a linguistic barrier that seemed insurmountable. The room’s colors blurred into a mosaic of confusion as she clung to the hope of finding answers. As they led her through the mysterious realm, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being a lost wanderer in a place that defied explanation yet seemed to her very familiar, her cries of confusion echoing through the walls of palace.

 Lord Círdan, Glorfindel, Gildor, Lumion, and Fearon came in the room where their mysterious guest was staying. When they saw her walking up and saying something in a melodious voice. They began to talk. Lord Círdan was first to speak, “Greetings, traveler from beyond. Can you understand our words?”

The creature responded with a stream of sounds that were foreign to the elven ears, leaving the wise beings perplexed. Glorfindel ears perked up, he said to Lord Círdan, “Her language eludes us. We must find a way to bridge this gap and understand her plight.”

Lumion, quiped in, “I’ve never encountered such linguistic diversity. Our words seem to dance away from her understanding.”

 As the creature grew more distressed, her attempts at communication turned into heart-wrenching cries. The elves, moved by compassion, sought a way to ease her turmoil.

Fearon, seeing her pretty face distressed was unable to contain her worry. She sople softly, “We cannot let her suffer in confusion. There must be a way to connect with her. If we cant understand her, we can at least soothe her. There's nothing more soothing that nature. Lets take her to the gardens.”Gildor mused, “Look at the patterns on her belongings. They speak of gardens and life. Indeed, let us bring her to the haven���s garden.”

Lord Círdan looked at her shaking form and sighed. He did not expected such fearful reaction from this little creature. He gently guided her to the garden. She followed him,her eyes downcast and form shivering. He wanted to hold her and tell her she was safe but he was fearing that might trigger intense reaction in her. Guiding the creature gently, he led her to the serene sanctuary of the garden, where a tapestry of flowers and foliage unfolded. He saw her looking at the flowers. He gentky smiled, “In the language of leaves and blossoms, find comfort. Let the garden’s beauty speak when words fail.”

As they walked amidst the vibrant flora, the creature’s tears began to subside. The intricate patterns on her belongings seemed to resonate with the natural tapestry surrounding them. The creature, surrounded by the gentle rustle of leaves and the fragrance of blossoms, started to calm. The elves, though unable to decipher her words, shared a moment of understanding through the silent language of the garden—a universal solace that transcended the boundaries of spoken communication.

 Her mind began to clear from the fog of confusion. Determined to understand her predicament, she made a gesture, a silent plea, for her glasses. She looked at the creatures that surrounded her. She looked at the bearded old man. As they had eye contact, the man seemed to freeze. It seemed like her was lost. What happened to them? she thought to herself, What the fuck is going on here!?

~○~○~○~○~○~○

Taglist @elvyshiarieko , @asianbutnotjapanese @bobitoo08

What to be in my taglist? Just drop a message ❤️

[applejee]

bestie im going to melb and as a local do u have any recommendations for stuff we should do while were there?

FYCK YESSSSSS COME TO MELBOURNE!!!!!!! okay heres my exorbitant mostly food related list (note these places are almost all in the CBD):

coffee/matcha:

if you like coffee, best locations in the CBD are little rogue on drewery lane nearby melbourne central station, and tbh any coffee joint along flinders lane

if you don't like coffee but like matcha or houjicha, drop by little rogue or tori's on niagara lane!! puzzle coffee (there's one on swanston st and in melbourne central station) is also tasty

i've also heard good things about naau's matcha - they're off russell st but i haven't been there myself

breakfast/brunch/bakery:

if you want to try a classic melb brunch, try hardware lane! there's a few places in the laneway and it feels very melbourne

also on drewery lane is bakemono - an adorable little bakery that does amazing melonpan! but they sell out quick and get busy, so you want to get there by 10am at the latest

(can you tell laneways are our culture)

okay i know they opened elsewhere in australia now but LUNE is great... love the croissants....... JC patisserie boulangerie is further north but a quick train ride away - heard great things!

if you want a fun time........ hopetoun tearooms!! SOO CUTE even just the cake window is worth a look. if you want high tea you gotta book out ages in advance, but if you don't mind waiting a little they take walk ins! perfect for an afternoon pot of tea and tasty cake

more lunchy-places:

look, anywhere on degraves st will get you there, and it's also a classic tourist spot! walk down and see the most quintessential melbourne laneway there is!

if you want american-themed fare, bowery to williamsburg FUCKS i had a stunning reuben there.

tbh i rarely actually have lunch, i just get brunch... so all the recommendations above can double

dinner or lunch restaurants:

soooo i love ramen so if you do too, ikkoryu fukuoka ramen is top tier! i love their yuzu ramen. hakata gensuke is good if you like chicken ramen, and shujinko ramen (rip the flinders st store) is good if you're going up elizabeth st and want affordable

mensho tokyo ramen opened recently but uhhhhh the wait has been 3 to 5 hous somedays. ITS POPULAR. ippudo in QV is probably easier and more convenient

outside of ramen, if you want more fancy fancy farmer's daughters is STELLAR. delicious food, great cocktails, mm. nice modern aussie dining. longrain nearby is also very popular!

also vaguely upmarket is chinchin - good curry! the waiters market is a place that my mum hugely recommend before shows but ive never managed to get there myself lmao.

not ramen but still japanese is dohtonbori.. ever wanted to mix and flip your own okonomiyaki? now's the time

I WANT TO GO TO THE NATURAL HISTORY PUBLIC BAR. it's also a restaurant set to look like the american museum of natural history, if you go pls have fun

bubbletea, its own category:

this is just a list.

milksha, the alley lujiaoxiang, machi machi, coco. these are all good. chatime is fine but gongcha is better but theyre the chains so... i really want to go to choulee!! i heard theyre good

desserts:

hokkaido baked cheese tart, black star patisserie, pafu, kurimu, uncle tetsu's, brunetti's for cakes and later nights, sulhwa, and bingsu.

further out or more expensive but fun:

i need to go to milk the cow so BAAAD. there's one in st kilda, which is a short tram ride from flinders st station. if you go lmk

places to visit:

the botanical gardens!! pretty, always a nice time

the NGV likely has some free exhibits going on! always a nice wander

you gotta stop by hozier lane. you gotta. and wander around fed square while you're at it

drewery lane also has some artwork!

a walk down birrarung marr is also nice, sometimes there's night markets going on by the stadiums

the docklands has some alright places, but i know less about it... but they have a ferris wheel rn! check it out!

if you wanna spend thirty or more bucks, go up the eureka tower!! tallest building, and you can get a cool view of the city. the edge experience is a little lift that sticks out the building so you can stare down through glass to the ground below. fun if you aren't afraid of heights

if you like shopping, emporium is fancy and has a MEEQ store where you can buy jellycats

you can go to the queen victoria market if you wanna.... its a classic destination after all

THE LUME is a classic experience here too rn - more exxy but if you want a fun visual experience, do it!

if you want comics - check out all star comics! best LCS in the area.

other specific stores i recommend:

gewürzhaus! there's one in block arcade off collins st, i love it and the spices

not far from gewürzhaus is essensorie - they discon'd my fave handcream SOB but they have some nice things (this is all in the black arcade, same as hopetoun)

and with that, tbh check out all the arcades? they have fun things going on!! there's the block arcade, royal arcade with gog and magog, tivoli arcade... that is to say they're little indoor walkways with shops and stores, as in an arcade you walk through! they're cute

bourke st mall is worth a wander, and you can see the outside of the old post office that's now a H&M...

i know you said "things to do" but... all i do is eat mostly LMAO!!

really, the best thing to do is give yourself a day or two for the CBD. just wander, it's all a grid and easily navigable, and take advantage of the free tram zone!!!! it'll announce when it isn't so you know to touch on your myki or not, i'm not a cop.

you could also wander down to crown at night, southbank has many restaurants and also the flames outside crown fucketh severely

if you're going outside the CBD, its an hours or so drive but healesville sanctuary is soo fun.. and on the way there you can stop by kuranga nursery, it's a gorgeous little place and the paperbark cafe does a bunch of tasty meals with native flavours and bushtucker

if you'll be in the suburbs i have more recommendations too!! but for those just message ma and i'll share so this list isn't crazier than it is xx HAVE FUN!!!!!!!!

[gaoau]

shaken with ice

Straight-Up warnings — none. word count — 3.2k

next.

Izana sits on a bench as he recognizes he's been burnt down to ashes by himself. If fraternal love was all he had, then why did he actively destroy it? All because he couldn't handle the scorching, sour truth of not properly belonging. He sits and wonders why nothing ever happens anymore now that Shinichiro is dead. He wonders why the world moves on and keeps turning, but everything around him remains impossibly still. He took as much as he could from his brother to build himself around Shinichiro's love, yet he's been left with nothing but an empty hole in his chest. He sits and wonders why he needs a random fourteen-year-old to force him out of his rut—still, his surroundings stay monochrome.

Izana sits on a rooftop as he wonders what it is about being isolated that harms him so much, to the point he can't even acknowledge it. He finds his strength better when being by himself, so isolation should be his best friend, right? Right? He's been alone and abandoned his whole life, so Shinichiro leaving him behind should be no different. He has no one to understand him, no one to keep up with him, no one to sympathize with him—he has no one to be as empty as him.

He doesn't bother looking at Kisaki while he explains his schemes. For a moment, he considered maybe Kisaki would do, but his malice can only fill up so much of his heart and nothing more. It's not what he wants. It's not what he needs. He allows Kisaki to use him as much as he pleases; so long as their objectives align, he doesn't mind playing his part to regain what he's lost. It's only been a few days since they started making their moves to build Tenjiku into the perfect opponent for Toman. Kisaki talks and talks, smoothing out the logistics of this convoluted plan. It's dreadfully boring and it feels like nothing is happening at all.

Izana isn't sure if he hates to admit this or not, but he's surprised when he hears the door to the rooftop open behind them. As far as he's concerned, no one should be coming up here for anything. The click of the lock comes accompanied by a muffled voice he's never heard before, grumbling, "What the fuck are you making me climb all those stairs for?" There's an edge in the tone and a faint drawl on the corners of the sentence. Izana cranes his neck back to find hooded eyes that match the boredom dripping from their every syllable.

He knows these nonchalant eyes—not exactly. He's seen this bored gaze before, he's seen this bored girl before. At least once or twice, sharing a few words with Kisaki before exchanging money. This is, however, the first time he's close enough to hear her speak. The black mask covering her face moves with every word she pronounces. He thinks, somewhere, in the corner of his mind, that it's amusing how her monotone voice fits her empty demeanor perfectly. His attention is trained on her as she marches up to Kisaki without bothering to glance at the other three people on this rooftop.

Izana catches Kisaki rolling his eyes in annoyance while turning towards this newcomer. "Your report, of course," is all he replies with, lips curling into a scowl.

There's a faint twitch in her brows, hooded lids narrowing just a bit more. It's interesting how a millimeter can change her expression from awfully bored to mildly irritated. "Can't I do it over the phone? The train fare's expensive."

"Do you want your pay or not?"

Her face returns to its passive neutrality, but Izana easily takes notice of one of her brows arching higher than the other. "With the agreed bonus, I'm assuming."

With a nudge into Hanma's gut, Kisaki nods towards [Name]. Almost instantly, a sickening grin grows on Hanma's face and a low chuckle tumbles from his tongue. He pulls crumpled yen notes out from his uniform pocket, carelessly dropping them onto her open palm. Izana wants to laugh at how easy it is to give him orders without exchanging a single word. [Name] visibly cringes, brows bunching up, and steps away from Hanma before she accidentally breathes in his insanity. She busies herself with smoothing out the money to make sure her bonus is intact. Kisaki glares her down.

Silence hangs for longer than any of them tend to tolerate. The bills move swiftly in her hands as she counts, "…six, seven, eight, nine thousand. Good."

"I'm waiting, [Name]."

She sighs, folding her pay neatly and saving it in her jacket pocket. Then she looks Kisaki in the eye. "I dropped her off at her place before hopping on the train. Hanagaki-kun was there at her door, looked kinda fucked up." She doesn't miss the disgruntled scowl twisting behind his glasses. She contemplates her next words briefly. She has her pay anyway, he's not going to try and raise his hand at her. Her lips curl into an amused grin underneath her mask. Izana notices her eyes narrowing as she looks down on Kisaki. "He doesn't look half bad with his hair down; I can see the appeal."

"Stay on topic," he clips immediately.

A chuckle escapes her, oddly flippant for someone that must know how Kisaki operates. She continues, "She got the first-aid and patched him up outside. From what she's told me, her father still isn't all that cool with delinquents." She scans him up and down for a moment. "By the way, your call almost blew my cover."

"I told you not to save my number."

"I didn't." She rolls her eyes, but they remain as bored as when she walked out here. "I was busy eavesdropping on 'em when you rang me up."

"How long ago was this?"

"Fifty minutes, give or take."

"You left them there alone?"

"Yeah?"

Kisaki has heard enough, it seems, as he shoos her away with his hand. "Report back tomorrow, too." He doesn't wait for her to give him even a measly nod of confirmation and turns back to Izana to finish their earlier one-sided conversation.

A shrug bounces off her left shoulder. "Sure," she pronounces with that flat monotone, dripping in dreadful boredom. Without so much as a polite goodbye, [Name] saunters her way towards the door. Izana keeps his eyes latched onto her back until she disappears into the building. Her nonchalance, her sheer uninterest vibrates against his brain in camaraderie.

It's not every day that [Name] goes on a small trip to Yokohama just to earn some cash, but it is fairly often. Izana cannot wrap his head around an empty space becoming emptier simply because she isn't around. He believes he can hear her monotone voice all the way from Shibuya. As soon as she shows up and snarls a few words at Kisaki, his eyes locate and stick to her. It's almost appalling to have to endure her flippant gaze being bored in his kingdom.

Izana is, admittedly, curious, for lack of a better word. He knows very well his own reasons for being empty and bored and saturated with his unmoving surroundings, but why her? Why [Name]? Why is she here? Why is she bored? Why does she work for Kisaki? Why does nothing ever happen for her either? He's heard Kisaki complain about her plenty of times, making mention of how obnoxious her nonchalant demeanor is and how much it grates on his nerves. He keeps her around because she's useful to him. Izana understands that. He doesn't understand [Name].

Kisaki makes her wait, Kisaki addresses her like she's a slave, Kisaki uses Hanma against her, Kisaki orders her around without regards. Izana can see it in those inexpressive eyes, that she absolutely despises Kisaki more than he despises Sano Manjiro. He watches from afar as she pulls down her mask briefly. Her flat lips are painted a dark color he can't distinguish when she's sitting this far away—it might be black as much as it might not be. From her jacket pocket, she produces a small yellow ball. It disappears into her mouth and her mask is back up in a matter of seconds. A few minutes later, she repeats it all over again.

Izana is, not admittedly, very curious. He listens in on their conversation when Kisaki approaches her to discuss business again. Her mask moves as she speaks. Kisaki is the only person she's familiar with around here, surrounded by Tenjiku gang members, but she remains hostile while glaring at him like she wants to smash his glasses into his face.

"Did you talk to him like I said?" Kisaki asks her sharply.

[Name] rolls her eyes, sighing in exasperation, "Yeah, said something 'bout wanting to save someone. I'm guessing that's Hinata-chan?" Her inflection rises in a monotone question. By the look on her face, she isn't even interested in knowing who lives and who dies as long as she gets her money.

"Anything else?"

"He fucking hates you." Her eyes narrow. Izana thinks there's a smirk on her flat lips behind that mask. "He's ready to beat you into oblivion, so watch your back, ATM."

"Don't tell me what to do; that's not what I pay you for." A faint frown settles on her brows at his words. If not Hanagaki, [Name] looks ready to beat Kisaki into oblivion herself before he can think about acting snarky again. Izana wants to know why she bothers showing up. "Keep Tachibana busy. Don't let her see Hanagaki that often anymore until this settles down." That's his last order of the day. He hands her a few bills and leaves her on her seat.

She nods her head automatically, muttering, "Sure," as she lifts her middle finger up at his retreating back. Izana keeps his eyes stuck to her while she slips another yellow ball into her mouth, counting the numbers on her pay. He is, admittedly, interested. This mirroring emptiness is something he wants to have. The nonchalance in her narrowed eyes becomes twisted in his clouded brain when he can't rationalize why nothing ever happens for her either.

[Name] finds this extremely annoying, but she's not exactly willing to do anything about it. She keeps getting calls from Kisaki at random, asking her to take a forty-minute train ride just to give a report. Why he's decided to base this new gang of his in Yokohama is beyond her and she doesn't care to ask. The issue is the burning, piercing discomfort stabbing her on the back of her head. Clearly, there's someone who's got their eyes on her, but considering she's surrounded by feral scumbags that could easily snap her in half if they wanted to, she knows better than to look around and figure out who it is.

It happens every single time she hangs around for a while, which says a lot when it's only been two weeks since Tenjiku became a thing. It gets increasingly more obnoxious, but she really doesn't want to take her chances and make eye contact with someone that will stab her for the hell of it. She remains bored at her surroundings, remains flippant towards Kisaki's threats, remains nodding her head and going along with whatever plays out in front of her. Then Tenjiku's head enters her field of vision, unprovoked. She figures if she had checked earlier, she would have been better prepared for his swallowing eyes staring at her so intently.

Izana has considered actively asking Kisaki about this little dog that runs around for him to have eyes where he can't casually see. He doesn't, though, because he's not one to be curious about people he doesn't need. The more he sees [Name] idly sitting and eating those yellow balls, the more he contemplates he's not as unique as he'd originally led himself to believe. Mikey isn't quite empty yet—Izana knows that better than anyone else—but [Name] is.

Or at least, he's convinced.

He doesn't have a name for what the voice in the back of his head is telling him. He can only recognize a faint lilt that sounds oddly similar to Shinichiro. It's not an unfamiliar feeling; he's been withdrawing from it for so long, that having it return to him unannounced is borderline euphoric. He's had more than enough of [Name] popping candy into her mouth and looking like nothing exists in the world but her. Izana is here—he's in the same world as her and he's just as empty as her and he wants her nonchalance before she wastes it all on someone like Kisaki. Whatever it is, he craves more of it.

[Name] holds his gaze with narrowed eyes that don't care how much power he has over her. Izana simply watches her every move, paying close attention as she pulls down her mask so he can finally establish her lips are colored black. Hidden inside the pocket of her jacket, he hears plastic crinkling. She pulls out one of those yellow balls. When she opens her mouth, the sunlight bounces back from the piercing on her tongue before it's blocked by her flat, black lips again. Then the mask is back up.

He's curious; why does she do any of the things she does? If she's so dead bored of everything around her, why bother showing up here? It doesn't make sense to him why she even bothers painting her lips when she'll cover them up with that stupid mask anyway. It moves along with her mouth as the candy clacks against her teeth. He hears the muffled shattering when she bites down on it.

Izana extends his open palm in front of her. [Name] limits herself to raising a brow, only slightly, barely noticeable unless he's looking for it—and he is looking for it. "Share," he orders. It's an order. It is an order. This is his kingdom, and [Name] is a part of it as long as she's here, bored or not, whether either of them like it or not. He's her king.

Her expression flattens again. She produces a clear plastic bag from her pocket, filled with candy balls she took the time to unwrap earlier in the day. It pokes at his brain and burns on his subconscious, how obnoxiously calm she behaves in the face of someone that could kill her in the blink of an eye. Not that he's planning to harm her yet, but he could. She presents the open bag to him, silently, and leaves him to take as many as he wants without complaint.

He takes two. There's powder coating the hard candy. "What are these?" he asks before popping one in his mouth. Instantly, he cringes. It's impossibly sour.

"Super Lemon," [Name] answers with that flippant tone he's heard mock Kisaki.

He shatters the candy and chews his way through burning sourness the same way he's been watching [Name] do all this time. Izana knows he's never been fond of lemons or limes or even the mildest of citrics, but he finds today he despises Super Lemons more than anything. He swallows the candy before shoving the other one in his mouth as well.

That burning sensation stabbing her on the back of her head doesn't stop, and although it still disturbs her, [Name] is no longer concerned about getting her head bashed into a rock for breathing in the wrong direction. Now that she knows it's just Tenjiku's head, she cranes her neck to the side, immediately locking eyes with Izana, who's completely ignoring whatever it is Kisaki is telling him. She holds his stare, because it's not just Tenjiku's head. It's Kurokawa Izana and she's afraid of what he can do. She's heard a lot about this guy, more than she needed. He will kill her if she refuses him a Super Lemon.

Izana wonders why nothing ever happens. [Name] stares at him, leaning on that wall like she's so fucking over everything happening around her. He hates her sour candy, but he despises the way she looks at him more. It's like she's analyzing him instead of understanding he's as empty as she is. And then she looks away, bored. 

She clearly hates being here. She's clearly bored. She frowns in contempt and sheer disgust as Kisaki snarls more orders. She nods her head regardless of the hatred in her face and does as told. None of it makes sense to Izana. Why is she here? What is she doing? Why is she bored of his kingdom? Why does nothing ever happen?

He doesn't care to ask. He dismisses Kisaki in favor of reaching his palm out for more Super Lemons. [Name] offers her clear bag for him to take as many as he wants. It stings his tongue every time he eats another lemon drop. He contemplates if he wants to admit his curiosity to himself. Cringing at the sourness overtaking his mind, he blankly stares at her. "[Name]," he calls, because he's only ever heard her given name. She meets his eyes with a questioning hum. "What's the fun in working for Kisaki?"

[Name] laughs to herself. "I actually hate Kisaki more than I let on." Izana disagrees. He's always quick to catch on to her reactions. Her attention flickers to the side while she shrugs, spotting Kisaki glancing back at the call of his name. A chuckle tumbles off her lips when her employer only glares daggers. She turns back to Izana with a hooded gaze, like nothing ever happens in her life either. "It's whatever. He makes up for it in cash."

It's the money. She's in his world for a few bills. "So you're smarter than Kisaki's dog, huh."

"Hanma?" Her brows rise and she giggles quietly. "Plenty."

Izana takes a step closer to get up in her face. She presses her back flat on the wall, but no emotion crosses her eyes. "You know we're planning to kill people, right?" Because it's the money for her, but it's everything for him. There's an empty space Manjiro carved by stealing everything from him.

He sees her shoulders relax, eyes narrowed. "The ends justify the means, I guess."

Something in the back of his mind tells him that his only sister dying isn't justifiable means to a stash of cash. He doesn't voice it, because disagreeing means they're not the same anymore. Kakucho, his servant, the one that's been with him for years dares talk back. Whatever this is—nonchalance, understanding, boredom, validation; call it anything—Izana gets high off of it. He allows it, otherwise things will never happen.

[little-escapist]

au + trope + prompt game

13. soulmates!au + 9. strangers to lovers + 2. "fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. fuck."

Thanks for prompting! The fic is under the cut, no warnings, just fluff ;)

Blaine never thought he’d meet his soulmate like this. And boy, had he dreamed up different scenarios as a kid, often late into the night, trying to conjure up what his soulmate might look like. Of course, it’s not quite as easy as that, as everyone knows. The time you meet your soulmate is fated and you can’t find out how it’s going to happen or who it’s going to be until it’s happening. 

He’s early to the subway stop. He wanted to give Sam some privacy for a phone call with Mercedes and so he left for work way earlier than usual, almost early enough to catch the previous train. Almost being the key word.  

A well-dressed, slim man is swearing up a storm, his pale cheeks glowing red and his breath coming hard when Blaine reaches the platform.  

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. Fuck.” The man looks close to tears as he stares after the back of the train.  

“Hey,” Blaine says and approaches cautiously. “Is, um. Clearly something is wrong, but is there something I can do to help?”  

The stranger groans. “If you can turn back time, maybe. Otherwise, no.”  

“I’m sorry,” Blaine says, feeling bad for the other’s misfortune. “If I could turn back time, I’d do it for you, but as it is, I’m just human. I can listen and keep you company, though, if that helps any?”  

The man looks him in the eye and it’s like time stops. So maybe Blaine can manipulate time after all? They stare at each other for an eternity, Blaine drowns in the off-blue depths of this man’s eyes and never wants to leave.  

Finally, one of them blinks, and the moment is gone, reality rushing back in.  

“My name is Blaine,” Blaine says and offers his hand. He’s pretty sure already, but the touch will confirm it. His heart is racing in his chest, and he hopes that his hand won’t be too sweaty when this stranger takes it.  

“Kurt,” the man says as their palms touch, and a strange, burning itch begins in Blaine’s hand.  

They both feel it, because they exchange another glance, half excited, half terrified. Blaine really, really wants to see what his mark is like, but he doesn’t want to let go of Kurt’s hand. Kurt gives him a wobbly smile.  

“I guess being late for my job interview is worth it, because I met you at last,” he says, voice oddly wistful.  

Blaine huffs out a laugh and tucks in his chin. “So, you’ve been waiting for me?” The thought makes him feel warm all over. He has been waited for, he has been wanted even when he felt small and insignificant and useless. 

“Since forever! The thought of meeting you was the only thing that got me through, sometimes.”  

“Me, too. I’ve been looking for you forever.” They’re still holding hands, and both of them are growing sweaty on top of the burning tingle of their marks forming.  

“Do you want to see?” Kurt asks, bouncing in place a little.  

Blaine nods, and they let go to take a look at their palms.  

The soul mark is beautiful. Not that Blaine suspected anything else, but still, seeing it takes his breath away. It’s like lace, looping lines forming a shape of a sun. It’s pale gold in color and fills his whole palm. It’s better than anything he imagined in his wildest dreams, and Kurt... Kurt is more beautiful than any imaginary man Blaine’s been conjuring up in his mind to get through his loneliness.  

“Let’s get a cab. If we split the fare, it won’t be that expensive, and maybe you’ll make it to your job interview,” Blaine suggests.  

Kurt nods. “Yes. And then we’re getting lunch and then dinner because I want to learn all about you.”  

They head back above ground hand in hand.  

[jerseygirl5000]

I have no business spending money on frivolous items like i owe my sister about $40, im getting my friend a bday gift, and im going to the city (maybe twice) this week and the train fare is so fucking expensive but i also neeeeeedddddd this shirt…whats a girl to do..

[alightineverydarkness]

Year 2022 AD, or Something Terrible Has Happened to Everyone I Know

Now I am not a young musician from Kyiv, Ukraine. I am not poor, or subcultural, or famous. I am not single or dating, I am not in love or broken-hearted. I don't know what I am. I feel both the strongest, the most focused l've ever been, and the most fucked up inside I've ever been. I am the iPhone military salute emoji: half a head, the half that gets work done.

The war, the proximity of death, cuts off the superficial and shows you what you suspected you always were. You find whether you would do the right thing, or cheat; you see the life you lived and the life you haven't.

Now Europe is not a beacon of hope, but a gigantic bureaucrat octopus: European authorities deal with a genocide in progress in the same unwieldy manner as they do with a bus fare dodger. The collective Western Left is far too knowledgeable about the wants and needs of a person being murdered by fascists, and will happily lecture them on how to die. Shelling a sovereign country daily for a year, deporting its children, executing civilians, seems certainly frowned upon, but generally, «these things happen» — yes, the things that should never happen. And only Ukrainians are wonderful, but being wonderful is hard, hard work.

There has never been a time like this.

Nothing of my life is left. What I wouldn't give to go back to late 2021 and its hardships and joys. But the past is over, there is only now. And there may be a future where I start living again, where, in due time, I figure out what kind of music I have to make and where, maybe, I meet someone who would've waited for me to come back.

I am no longer in any kind of contact with the person I intended to marry in 2022, reasonably considering them the love of my life. Since the beginning of the year, I spent one evening with them in October, and was broken up with within the first hour. It is a loss so large it cannot be processed or grasped, but there she goes; we may never speak again, and all of my ideas about a future are useless now.

I have no reason to believe I will ever get to work on music full-time, or at least in my pre-2022 capacity ever again. The music scene has left me behind: it flourished, and I wasn't there for it, and will I ever be? At nights it seems like the people I used to talk to on Discord are all now famous and I am a soldier in a war that makes few headlines, and l'Il toil away like this until anything I was is extinguished. When I went back for a week and saw the streets of my life, I got lost quickly. And how much of my life has belonged to someone else?

There's this person holding a rifle and it's not me. There's this person sleeping with my fiancée and it's not me. Are there two or me, or zero?

I am so horny I can see through people's clothes.

Someday I will be free, in a room I've never been in, staring at a dead assortment of expensive music gear I ordered on my soldier's salary and don't know how to use. This is the light at the end of this particular tunnel. Not a train station kiss or tear-eyed hug, but nonetheless it is a life to be figured out and lived, as opposed to this. For now, I'll keep ordering whatever music equipment I may need, delivered to my mother's apartment.

I will be discharged before this war ends, and someone else will take my place, and I will not get any of the happy endings I imagined. I am tired. It feels like tonight I could sleep standing up.

There is a little part of me that is being destroyed every day.

But somewhere there's a day when nothing hurts, and a heart that's true, and a truth that is beautiful.

[freedformwriter]

Diary of a Baggage Train: Day 5

 ‘I’m on a magical mystery tour,’ I explain to my hosts at the latest converted church hostelry. They’ve ambitiously converted it into a bunkhouse and an upscale bistro. A wall of permanently illuminated stain-glass saints watch over the late-breakfasting backpackers. Reclaimed religious artifacts are mixed with a series of renovation photographs only the people who put their blood, sweat, and tears into this building could appreciate. I am proportionately effusive as we chat over the porridge. As this bunkhouse seemed staffed only by men, I’ve determined that this impractically charming project is deeply queer. I look for little clues (the crisp packets are arranged in rainbow order!) Having branded my cluelessness as part of a ‘wherever the road takes me’ life philosophy, I mention being gobsmacked again today by how much driving it takes to connect the backpackers hotels. Yes, my hosts commiserate, tourists are always confused when they end up with a £160 pound fare. I should take the northwest, not southeast loop; there’s a good bakery on the way. Leaving, I bump into a beautiful woman in so obviously expensive a raincoat and boots that she must be the co-owner. ‘Don’t come off the road,’ she warns as I drive off into the rain. No rainbow church.

Thirty minutes of driving along a single-track lane, of letting the ever-present vans by me, and giving space to the men in midge nets clearing trees, and I’m already tired. From the Bistro Church to tonight’s hostel, which will probably also be in some type of converted Victorian civic building no longer required for its original purpose, is just six miles as the crow flies. By google directions, it’s sixty-one fucking miles. The Fiat informs me my average trip speed is 22 miles per hour. You do the math. Compounding things, we had a long-distance family conference last night about where I want be next year: a hard question to answer what with my vacillating long covid and an endless question mark over the Portugal project. I’m in anticipatory mode now and can feel the energy leeching from my body as my brain spins out the countless scenarios. Magical mystery tour, remember?

I stop to have lunch next to a martyr’s mound, the haunt of one of those Irish monks who paddled over to proselytise in the 6th century. The very thing that attracted the early Irish Christians to this part of Scotland is the very same reason I have spent so much time on the road today: the lochs. Today, the Hill of St. Kessog is populated by school children with soggy chips and dutiful dog walkers. Two kinds of seagulls swirl and compete with the ducks for food, the regular kind and the pretty little blackfaced ones with orange beaks that I find, with typical human caprice, more charming. A lone swan takes on all incautious dogs. In the distance, the mountaintops are mist bound. My mother’s trail updates show her wearing both a yellow raincoat and a midge mask. I get up from the bench, a memorial to a man by the name of Swann, my grandmother’s name. A good omen, perhaps.

I have neither the energy nor the fortitude to clamber out of the car in the pouring rain to investigate further roadside distractions, not even the tantalising ‘Famous Shark Bathroom!’ My destination, once sighted, is not another converted church. Moreover, it’s a building ostensibly still used for its original purpose: a public house with the bar and restaurant on the ground floor and rooms above. It’s not been updated. A giant stuffed black bear dressed in a kilt leers out from behind the doorway. A patron has placed a glass on its head. A wall of taxidermy birds are frozen in an unchanged tableau, and, oh my god, is that a baby seal? Who would kill that real life plushy toy and be proud of it? But the hotel is leaning into the creepy vibe. Their Wi-Fi password is Haunted Inn. No spaces.

[itsbecauseyoureontopofthatphone]

Chapter 48: Are There Cell Phone Delinquents Too?

In a flashback, Kawasumi gives Shizuka a ribbon to tie back her long hair with. She was going to cut her hair short but...eh, whatever.

Snap to the present and Shizuka wants to leave the student council. She fucked up too much and doesn't think she deserves her position. But, before she gets on the train, she finds out she lost her pass. She doesn't want to pay the expensive fare so, when an attendant asks her, she says she got on at the previous station. Her lie gets through and she ends up paying 160 yen (roughly $1.60). She did it as easily as she breathed. She skipped the fare, she bullied her president...she is officially a bad person. So, the only logical next step is to be even more filthy. She has to start smoking.

She buys a pack, takes out a cigarette, tries to light it...and drops it into the puddle at her feet. She's relieved...but a delinquent-looking kid, Masamune, comes up to offer her another one. She says underage smoking is a crime but he says it's a shame because she's so cute, she can pull it off. She's more mature than other girls so she should get a head start on growing up and smoke up.

Shizuka's still unsure so he says to just smoke one. If she does, he'll teach her more stuff. She reluctantly takes it, mentally saying goodbye to the council as he lights it...and Ryu stops him, grabbing his hand.

End of chapter.

[hollowisthyname]

THANK YOU THE THREE PEOPLE WHO WANT TO HEAR MY ADVENTURES ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE

events of the night :

no one asked for our tickets on the train so we committed fare theft but it wasn't our fault went to a big fucking walgreens because it was there and were almost certainly caught on camera shoplifting (we were so recognizable we can never go back there now) (luckily we live very far away and will not need to do so) some dude yelled at us from a car but it wasn't a catcall it was just "HELLO ???" he sounded so confused walked past an alley with a creepy red light domino's took forever to get us our (stupidly expensive btw) dinner and we were all panicking because it was 6:50 and we thought the show was at 7:00 it was actually at 7:30 crisis averted could not find the theater for the life of us , crisis not so averted google maps was getting us to circle this restaurant that did not at all look like it had a theater in it , the second floor was dark ran into a group of people outside this same restaurant also looking for the theater checked the second floor anyway ! it was the same place i had gone to a show there previously (bmc) but it was very much dark and empty asked the manager if we were in the right place . nope . he was obviously very tired of this question , gave us the name of the county (?) it was in , and shooed us out the door reported back to our steadily growing group , found the actual address !! woohoo !!!! it's nine minutes away , they offer a ride , we say no thanks we can walk we would rather not get kidnapped tonight it was nine minutes away by car it would take over an hour to walk we accept the ride this is from a very short hispanic lady (exactly how she asked to be described) taking her own kids to the show , we're relatively sure we're not being kidnapped we are not in fact kidnapped and get to the show on time and alive (the road we drove down though did seem like a very kidnap-y road) the director saw us and liked our outfits and my cosplay !!! she invited us to stay late and meet the cast !!!!! THE SHOW WAS FUCKING AMAZING WE GOT TO MEET THE CAST AND THEY WERE ALL SO NICE AND I GOT PICTURES AND THE DIRECTOR ASKED FOR A BUNCH OF OUR CONTACT INFO SO WE COULD POTENTIALLY HAVE A TALKBACK OR SOMETHING LATER

all in all amazing time 10/10 would do again

went to see 4 chairs theater rtc yesterday who wants to hear the story (it was an adventure)