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just-sp-in-inginthevoid
a side blog for my special interests
dumbthink
LIKE A DISTANT MEMORY.
tafni
serendipity
pixel2on
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paprscissrs
Rock 𓆏
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After the death of your husband, Kento, your friend sets you up with a lawyer they often clerk with. This is mostly against your will.
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meet cute with higuruma hiromi at the grocery store <3 he is carrying around a basket while you push a cart and you accidentally bump into his ankle, too preoccupied with checking off your grocery list.
“oh! i’m so sorry, sir, i’m so sorry!”
he grimaces, drops his basket of food.
and then he looks at you — with your worried face, pearl earrings, cream colored dress, soft pink heels with bows at the toes.
“don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he replies to your apologies and smiles kindly — though if it had been someone else, he’d be giving them a mean glare.
you flush at such a pet name, lean down hurriedly to help him pick up the tomatoes and pasta he had dropped.
“let me take you out to dinner,” he says, looks at you with a breathless grin and eyes you could get lost in. “for being in your way.”
“oh, i should be the one taking you out, then.” you smile almost shyly, drop one last tomato into his basket.
he doesn’t even know your name and he is infatuated.
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attack on titan valentines I made 💗 feel free to use for your valentine! 💕💞
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ps in case you guys don't know shoujo magazine melody introduced a new adult yuri series called my blue garnet and the 1 chapter is already out in That yuri website. you're welcome
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ai will die just like cr*ypto and n*fts ai will die just like cr*ypto and n*fts ai will die just like cr*ypto and n*fts ai will die just like cr*ypto and n*fts ai will die just like cr*ypto and n*fts ai will die just like cr*ypto and n*fts ai will die just like cr*ypto and n*fts ai will die just like cr*ypto and n*fts ai will die just like cr*ypto and n*fts ai will die just like cr*ypto and n*fts ai will die just like cr*ypto and n*fts ai will die just like cr*ypto and n*fts ai will die just like cr*ypto and n*fts ai will die just like cr*ypto and n*fts
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What if you and Levi rescued a baby on a scouting mission?
You're in a village taking out some titans, most people git eaten, some ran away. After you take out all the titans, you and the squad are searching for any survivors and you hear crying coming from one of the houses. You look around to see if you can spot Levi anywhere to call him over but you can't, he must be somewhere else. You go into the house to get the baby but you see someone already beat you to it. And that someone was Levi.
He was holding the tiny human in his hands and rocking it in an attempt to calm it down but it wasn't working. His brows furrowed in concentration as he tries to figure out how to calm the baby down. You watch in silence before saying anything. The scene is so precious.
You quietly approach him and place your hand on his back to let him know you're there. "Hey." He turns to look at you, he's frustrated that he can't get the baby to stop crying but he also can't be mad at it. He can't Imagine what it could've witnessed, the loud noises of the titans, the screams. "Need help?" You ask him. He looks at you then back at the baby before he grunts. "Yeah", he does need help. You scoop the little thing in your arms and hold it close to your chest, you sway a little from side to side and start humming softly. Once the baby picks up that it's not in danger it starts to calm down and the screaming ceases.
Levi is in awe. He didn't know you were good with kids. He had been struggling with it for so long and the second you took it in your arms it calmed down. He quickly snapped out of it though, he knows neither of you have time to take care of a child. "The kid counts as a survivor, we have to take it back. We can drop it off at one of the shelters." You agree. As much as you want to stay with it a little longer, you still have a job to do.
You were down for the rest of the day after handing over the kid. "How did you get attached to it so quickly." He said it more as a matter of fact way instead of a question. "What?" You reply, you'd been out of it, only thinking about what must have happened to the kids family and its well being. Levi is no fool, hes well aware that you were upset because you had to let go of the kid so quickly. "Come on." He says with a sigh. He doesn't wait for an answer and stands by the door of your shared room. You raise an eyebrow. What is he doing? "Do you want to see the kid or not?" You excitedly get up from the bed and follow him out.
The walk to the shelter is silent, but he can tell by the look on your face that you're happy. The corner of his mouth curls up slightly into a smile. He's glad you're happy.
You hold the little baby in your arms as you play with it on a chair. Levi is leaning on the wall next to you, watching silently. You look so at peace and happy with the kid. At one point you get up and tell him to play with it while you go to the bathroom. He does as he's told, taking the little one in his arms and trying to keep it entertained while you're gone. He doesn't really know what to do so the baby ends up getting bored and falls asleep. The sun was setting and he realized how tired he was. It wouldnt hurt to rest his eyes for a bit. It was just him and the kid anyway. He sat down on the chair and closed his eyes as he waited for you to come back. You return shortly after, adjusting your clothing as you walked not quite realizing what was going on before you. "Sorry I took so long, I couldn't find the..." you trailed off when your eyes landed on him. His head was hanging slightly forward and the baby's head was resting on his chest. He looked so peaceful, it was adorable. "Mm..." He grumbled as he opened his eyes. He looked up at you squinting, taking a second for his vision to adjust. "Ready to go home?" You ask him as you take the baby. "Yeah." Maybe it won't be so bad come visit the kid every once in a while, he though.
That was until he got home and realized it had drooled all over his uniform while it was sleeping.
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suguru's throat feels tight.
not in the nice way—like when someone pays you a compliment you aren't expecting, or you're given a thoughtful gift.
his airway is a vice; sticky and closing in on itself like a boobytrap in those terrible action movies that satoru always makes him watch, where the walls are slowly crushing inwards on the hero, leaving no obvious way to escape.
his face feels hot—too hot for the meagre amount of alcohol he's had to drink that evening. hot enough that he's sure his cheeks are flushed a vicious red. he looks down at his hands, still wrapped around the half-drained drink between them, and when he pulls one away from the circumference of the glass he sees the way his fingers tremble, moved by a force only he can feel.
he sets his cup down on whatever surface is within reach and looks for the nearest exit.
the bar is crowded, and every body that jostles him on his odyssey to the door makes him feel even more sick to his stomach—makes him acutely, and uncomfortably aware of just how many people are jammed into such a confined space. with every step he takes towards the fire exit (the one which at this point he just has to pray isn't connected to some kind of alarm) it seems to be growing further away, like his steps are a paradox he's trapped in.
finally, finally, his hands press down against the push bar of the door, and cold winter air hits his burning cheeks like a slap.
he's on his knees retching into the grimy snowbank that lines the back alley before the door has even fully swung closed.
"oh, wow,—"
suguru can barely hear you over the sound of his pulse in his ears. it was too noisy in the bar to make it out this clearly, lost in the thrum of the bass-heavy music and the spiral of his thoughts, but now it's unmistakable. it pounds in his head, under his tongue, trapped in the walls of his throat.
he lifts his head, his eyes bleary from the tears his exertion had sprung to them, and he sees a figure a few paces away from him with a cigarette lifted to their lips.
he blinks hard, willing the world to come back into focus. as it does (painfully slowly,) he can see you better. the first thing he can clearly make out is the oversized jacket you have wrapped around your frame (big enough that it can't possibly be your own.) his eyes flicker next to the bare legs that peek out from underneath it, and trail all the way up to the lines of your face as you watch him. but it's your eyes that make him falter for a moment: curious but strangely impassive at the same time.
"—rough night?" you ask, but you make no move to come any closer to him.
he's grateful for at least that small mercy, he can't help but think.
"sorry," he chokes out, spitting into the sludgy grey snowbank one last time just to try and get the terrible taste out of his mouth. he stands unsteadily, his hands braced against the brick wall of the bar to keep himself balanced. "i didn't even drink that much."
he's not sure why he feels the need to say it, or make any effort to save face when you've just seen him at what's surely one of the lowest points of his life. you're a stranger, after all. what does it matter, anyway?
you hum a bit, taking another drag from your cigarette. the sound is halfhearted, and it upsets him unjustly.
"i really didn't," he insists, wiping at his mouth with the back of his knuckles and turning to you properly. "i-i'm on these new meds and they've got me all fucked up."
your eyes widen a bit, and he watches the way the smoke slips out of your lips—painted a rich, ruby colour for the evening.
"no shit?" you ask him. "you shouldn't be out partying if you're sick, y'know. alcohol can really fuck up scripts."
"i'm not sick," he replies quickly. too quickly. too ardently to possibly be true. and the silence that follows is too heavy for such a cold, still night. he looks away, fixing his eyes on the road at the end of the alley.
"oh," you drag out the word, an understanding lilt in your tone. "those kinda meds."
suguru glances back to you.
"so," you take a step towards him, and it sets his teeth on edge. "what's your poison of choice then? paroxetine? fluvoxamine? good ol' fashioned escitalopram?"
suguru's head is still spinning from the liquor, but his pulse has died down a bit. now his mouth feels uncomfortably dry.
you keep going.
"are you taking it neat or did they give you a little chaser with it too for a bit more"—you make a little flourishing gesture with your hand—"oomph."
you're right in front of him now. close enough that the smell of your cigarette has finally reached him. suguru can't help but eye it covetously, longing for the pack in his own coat pocket, left somewhere in the bar. you follow his eyes and laugh a little, holding the half-smoked cigarette out to him. it has a lipstick mark on the filter, but he takes it anyway.
he sucks in a greedy, needy inhale.
the rush of nicotine hits him right away, comforting and familiar. his exhale feels almost rapturous.
he takes another little puff, then extends the cigarette back out to you.
"don't worry about it,"—you wave the gesture off—"you can keep that one on account of the whole... y'know..." your eyes flicker down to the snowbank where geto had just been retching.
oh, right.
"thanks," he mumbles appreciatively, wasting no time before he takes another drag.
the two of you stand side by side in the dingy alley while geto finishes off your cigarette. he crushes it under the heel of his boot, grinding it down into the cracked asphalt, once it's done.
"how'd you know?" he asks after a few more moments of silence. the cold is starting to get to him now—registering in a way that didn't when he first made it outside. the chill bites at his cheeks and his nose, stinging in its frigidity.
"know what?" you feign coyness, tilting your head a little to the side. he sees a flicker of something behind your eyes again that slips through the facade of composure—something mirthful, and maybe a little mean.
he swallows, and tastes tobacco on his tongue. "about the anti-depressants."
you laugh a bit to yourself, but the sound is strained like you're almost trying to bite it back. "don't take this the wrong way, but you just sort of look like the type."
he looks at you—really looks at you—then.
you're pretty.
he supposes he recognized that already, even if he didn't process it properly at the time. your lips look soft, your eyes draw him in, and in any other circumstance he thinks you might have been the type of girl he sidled up alongside in a bar just like the one he just fled and tried to start a conversation with.
but these aren't any other circumstances. you just watched him puke his guts up in a filthy alley and then guessed his SSRI prescription like the world's worst game show. and to make matters worse, his dick hasn't even been working right lately since he started these new pills.
as though life wasn't already cruel enough.
the fire exit flies open again, and all attention turns to it.
"there you are," shoko is standing in the doorway, half-in and half-out of the bar, cringing against the cool evening air. she frowns in suguru's direction. "we've been looking everywhere for you."
suguru watches as she ducks her head back through the doorway, but whatever she calls over her shoulder is lost to the music that's bleeding out into the alley from inside the bar. gojo appears behind her in an instant, his displeased expression brightening immediately upon seeing his friend. he pushes his sunglasses up atop his head, his white hair pinned back underneath them.
"suguru!" he cheers. "we lost you."
"i was just getting some air," suguru smiles blithely, in the way that he's perfected.
gojo shoulders his way out the door towards suguru, dragging him back towards the door with an arm slung around his neck. shoko's eyes flicker over to you.
"oh, hey," she says, nodding in greeting.
"shoko-senpai," you return her greeting politely.
"are you coming back in too?" she asks.
gojo and geto both pause in the doorway, turning to glance back at you.
"no, i'm heading home," you say with an easy smile, not unlike the expression geto had just shown. "you three have a nice night."
"get home safe," she calls after you, a lilt of curiosity in her tone. you lift a hand over your shoulder as you walk away, waggling your fingers in a lazy wave.
"who was that?" gojo asks as the door swings shut behind shoko. he leans in front of suguru so his voice can be heard over the loud music.
"she's a junior in my department at school," shoko explains, "don't you recognize her?"
gojo purses his lips as he contemplates it and then shakes his head definitively. it's not unusual for satoru not to recognize someone, especially a pre-med student instead of a physics student like himself, but suguru is a bit surprised that he can't recall meeting you previously.
satoru tugs suguru's arm back towards the thick of the crowd, and he braces himself for the oncoming barrage of stimulation. he freezes just before he takes his first step, whipping back around to the door.
"what's wrong?" satoru asks him, leaning over his shoulder. he's got his sunglasses on again, and now suguru can't through the lenses in the dim light of the bar, but he knows satoru well enough to picture the wide-eyed look of curiosity that must be behind them.
suguru's brow pinches in a bewildered furrow.
"was she wearing my coat?"
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choso strikes me as a boyfriend who talks to you outside the bathroom door while you're in the bath. then, over time, with the door slightly ajar, then properly open, and eventually with him sitting right next to the tub to talk with you. he's blushy and nervous at first, trying to avert his gaze because he isn't trying to be a pervert, he just wants to talk to you. you find it so charming, sinking down in the warm water to hide your sly little smile under the layer of bubbles that's rapidly dissipating along the surface. he gets used to it eventually; padding into the washroom and bringing you your towel like second nature, and you find yourself missing that pretty pink blush that used to curl across his cheeks each time he crossed the tiled threshold. so one day you lean your body up against the edge of the porcelain basin, extremely conscious of the way that choso is suddenly focused (too focused) on your face and nothing else, and you smile as you reach out for him and ask if he wants to get into the bath too. the flush that runs from the tips of his ears all the way down his chest—soon soapy and pressed against your back—can't possibly be blamed on the tepid bathwater.
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