#“oh why didn't you ask someone to help you with it

[wholemeallbread]

... TOXIC BOYFRIENDS AND EXES / ꩜

with ... nagi seishiro, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi x gn!reader

warnings ... cheating (rin), fem love interest (rin), lying (rin, isagi), parental issues-ish (isagi), nagi is just a bum (nagi), tiny emotional manipulation (isagi)

part one reo, sae, oliver

"SHE'S JUST A FRIEND" ꩜ ITOSHI RIN

you've known for quite a while that rin has had a... worrying childhood, to say the least. you're also aware that someone else has been his guiding light through his early teens, but is now long gone in the past. or that's what you thought. rin has been silent after hearing the news that his childhood "friend" recently moved back into town, but it's obvious that something else is going on.

especially when he's been visiting a certain house multiple times per week without telling you.

you've been aware of it for longer than he thinks. the moment you texted him "where are you?" instead of asking him to come home, he switched off sharing his location for good. he'll tell you he's just on a jog, but he's said it himself that he doesn't like bringing his phone because its too heavy. it becomes obvious when she starts coming to his games, waving and catching all of his attention while wearing one of his jerseys. you would know, because you accidentally stained one of them when you wore it.

even worse when his own brother that was miles away texted you, asking if you and rin were together. how did he even get your number? and why did rin not tell him you were already years deep into a relationship? oh, rin said he's stuck between the person he loves and the person he trusts? well, that shouldn't really be a question, should it? he should love and trust you, why is there somebody else that he could "pick"?

the break up was mutual. you could tell he was upset about it, but not as much as you, and you wonder why... maybe it's because he ended up in a relationship with said childhood friend only days later. you don't mean to pry in their business, but it's hard not to when you realise everywhere they go together, you've been with him before. this time, he's holding her hand, he's not hiding from the camera, he's smiling. rin has never smiled for you before. it hurts, it really hurts, but you're glad he didn't let things drag on. at least there's something left for you in his heart.

if he didn't love you in the first place, he should've just let you know from the beginning. it seems like you were some sort of test subject for his future.

BABY SYNDROME ꩜ NAGI SEISHIRO

nagi always puts in the bare minimum. you figured "maybe he puts in more effort for things he's passionate about?". well, one certainly is football; all of a sudden he has enough stamina to run a marathon and actually use his strength. since you're dating, he's passionate about you too, right?

keep lying to yourself. it's always you reaching out first, it's always you having to go to his house, it's always you waiting outside of his classrooms. on more than one occasion have you called him, been ignored under the thesis of "i'm too tired to talk, maybe tomorrow." and then being left on delivered for the next twenty four hours. and the cycle repeats over, and over, and over again. the last thing you wanted to end up being was a second reo (sorry to him, he's a lost cause) but when you're having to put his socks on for him like a toddler, unwillingly after he begs for help, that's where you draw the line. he's not a grandpa, and he's not sore. why would he need help?

it was unsurprisingly easy to break up with him. he let you go with ease, and it's not like he was going to argue to make him stay. one less person makes one less hassle, right? afterwards, it's inconvenience after inconvenience for him. now nobody wakes him up in the morning, or helps him with his missing homework, or does all of the work on group assignments so he can go "train". who's going to cook for him now? because it's not you or reo, and ordering takeaway is too much work.

nagi texted you to ask to get back together. you asked why. he said "it makes both of our lives easier". hell no.

MAMA'S BOY ꩜ ISAGI YOICHI

isagi is such a good boyfriend. honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if he was the one you ended up marrying. he's sweet, his parents are sweet, everything was perfect. was perfect.

you don't know where or when you messed up, but isagi's mom doesn't seem to like you that much anymore. was it how you got awkward and didn't know how to respond? no, usually his dad helps you through conversations. were you a bad influence? no, surely not. isagi knows his own standards, and sometimes his attitude is worse than yours.

nowadays, isagi looks a bit nervous when you ask to come over. your usual routine together was completely disrupted. you can tell he's subtly avoiding you or keeping conversations brief. he doesn't even hold your hand when you're walking around school anymore. this man willingly used to sprint from your period to the other side of the school just to make sure you got to your class safely, and now, nothing. and why is he wiping his hands with disgust when he's the one sweating buckets? he would've apologised if it was his fault, so it's something to do with you.

"hey, so... my mom doesn't want us together..." well, excuse you? he's stuttering, trying to come up with excuses, but you don't even want to hear them. having your healthy relationship broken up by his mom? and what if you married him hypothetically? would he willingly divorce if his mom said to do it? you know he still loves you, judging from his longing glances and half smiles in your direction. you know it wasn't completely his decision. but if he really loved you, then creating a barrier between the two of you when she wasn't even around didn't make sense at all. he would risk his life for you, but not disobey her loose commands.

on some random important day, valentines or whatever, he tries to ask you out. he wants to "start over". can you even be angry when he looks so remorseful? coupled with flowers, your favourite sweet treats and everything... oh, you swear you can see tears in his eyes. maybe you'll think about it.

[selfproclaimeddoctoroflove]

It was that time of the year it seemed. Dan Heng hadn't been a sociable person by nature, but he would never go as far as to lock himself in his room for a month, even refusing basic essentials like food and water from the express. Right?

Every time this had happened, it had seemed to take you by surprise. When you had gone to knock on his door to check on him, he had gruffly declined your invitations of conversations. At some points you would get so concerned that you would ask Himeko and Welt of they knew why this happened. Himeko would just laugh and welt would dismiss it. Pain in the ass.

But you were tired of not knowing. Of all the damn secrecy.

It had been a few weeks into his 'hibernation' as you called it, and you had confidently waltzed over to his room, banging on the door.

"Come on! Let me in! Or at least talk to me!" And although your voice was mainly flooded out by the rough banging of the door, you could still be heard fairly clearly. After a few moments of banging, your hands felt weak, and you were starting to get irritated from the lack of acknowledgment.

"Listen here if you dont open this damn door I'm going to--"

"Please.. Stop banging on the door, it's causing me a headache." Dan heng cut you threat short as his voice rang out, however it was clear he was heavily breathing. At His request, you promptly stopped banging on the door, though your irritation was still apparent. Who did he think he was? He finally spoke to you just to tell you to stop because you were worried? You were growing more furious as you balled up your fists.

"Are you serious? I've been so damn worried about you. You lock yourself in your damn room for weeks on end. How do you not expect me to start banging on your door?" You stated with a cold tone. Then you heard a breathy moan escape from the room. You stood in shock for a moment.. Moan... Locked in room.. Could he be?

"You masturbate for a whole damn month!?" You gasp at the thought of it. How the hell is that even possible? A month of non stop jacking off? He must be insane!

No sound was audible from the other side of the door until Dan heng spoke up again, "... Have you ever heard of heat?"

"Yea. Its the thing that makes you sweat."

"Not that heat. The kind where people get... You know..." His voice trailed off and the embarrassment was clear as glass.

"Oh. Your going through heat? That kind of heat... Well we're friends, right? Shouldn't friends help friends?"

And that's where it all went "up hill" (the hills not the only thing that went up, that's for sure.)

You were kissing Dan Heng ferociously like someone gone mad, trying to match his intensity, your lips were together like two ink smudges draw to close together, his hand slowly made itself a home on your waist as you straddled your legs around his lap.

"Aeon, I could just eat you whole.." He could hardly get his words out though, and had to make a effortless effort to try to pull away to speak, even though you both knew he'd come back to your lips like a starved man.

"You might not be able to eat me, but you sure can eat me out," you suggested through breathy moans, a sultry smile spreading across your face. You tightened your legs around his lap and moved to hands up to grab his face and coddle it with a intensity so that it seemed less like coddling and more like man handling.

By now the atmosphere was totally different from usual. Unlike the usual calm and soothing vibe of the room, the room was filled with unspoken desires and fantasies. Ones you have committed to fulfilling.

"Hah... Your right," his words came out in a low, dangerous whisper. It didn't take him to long to maneuver your pants off of you, leaving you in only soaked undergarments. "Your so wet..." he pointed out bluntly, using his thumb to circle your clit through your panties, making you loudly moan out in pleasure.

"Aren't you captain obvious.?" You shot out snarkily. With that, he moved your panties out of the way to directly touch your clit, moving his fingers around it and maneuvering your folds.

"If you keel talking like that, I won't do much more then this," he stated, still playing with your folds. He was incredibly skilled with his hands, having already made you moan out several times.

"Fine, I'm sorry... Please just.. Please.." Your voice was hardly audible however through the heights of pleasure you were reaching. You wondered if march could hear you.

Suddenly, he inserted a finger into your wet pussy, and due to how soaked you already were, his finger slid in like a knife through warm butter. Slowly he started to curl his finger. With his rich technique, he soon hit your G-spot, making you moan out uncontrollably in pleasure. As he slowly uncurled his finger, taking it out, there was a noticeable amount of sticky white cum on it. Underneath yourself, you could feel the sheets around your clit getting soaked with cum.

"Damn it.. I'm sorry, I didn't mean.." However your monologue was quickly cut short. "Don't stress it. I can get new bedsheets. And anyway, I should be thanking you." He said before licking the cum off his fingers, "let's do it again sometime."

[seitmai]

Ahh many thoughts

You surreptitiously suck in a breath and school your face to remain completely and utterly professional. But your chest bursts into a triumphant fire at the judge’s verdict.

I could not hold it in like that lmao

Sarah gives you a nod, and then she’s approached by the brother of your client - whose been trying to hold back his clear crush on your paralegal until the case was over, and you’re happy to see him shoot his shot. He’s a sweet kid, just about her age, and she’s had terrible luck in the romance department. This could be a path out of the woods for her of those post-grad men who still desperately tried to cling to their frat boy glory.

Good Luck Sarah 🤞🏻🤞🏻🤞🏻

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Now, now. We're professionals here. We don't gloat." "Speak for yourself," Sarah quips, earning a round of laughter from the table.

Valid 🤷🏻‍♀️

The victory feels sweeter shared with these people who helped you prepare for the case and who understand the long hours and emotional toll of the job.

Oh I 100% agree!

Your eyebrows shoot up. "The Donovan case? Andy, that's not even your case. It's being handled by the DA's office." He nods, pacing the room. "I know, I know. But I've been looking into it, and something's not right. The evidence doesn't add up."

Uhh👀

“Someone with too much money, too much power, and too much influence is somehow pulling strings to pin this the way they want. You can help me identify the right players. But, what’s more, you have the necessary clout and influence in this town to go to the DA and be taken seriously, and I don’t have that yet.” “It’s eating you up to admit that, isn’t it?” you finally say. He puts his hands on his hips and lets out a deep sigh. “Yeah, it does. Satisfied?”

Yes absolutely and it feels food to hear it 😌

A muscle in his jaw ticks. He licks his lips. “Do you think it’s possible that the cases I’m losing now are for the defendants that should be put behind bars, the ones I have no guilt taking money from, and that I’m just that good that they never question that I’m making sure they get what they deserve?”

I can respect that

"Okay," you say slowly, "I'll listen. But I need to know everything. No holding back, no surprises later. If we're going to do this, we do it right." Relief washes over Andy's face. He nods vigorously. "Of course. Everything I have, it's all yours."

🤝🏻

Andy appears at your side, and you turn slightly to look at him. “Why are we in a hotel room discussing this? Secrecy? If you’re that worried, it won’t be hard to track you here.” “I…” he laughs. “No, actually. It’s worse than that.” “Oh, Andy,” your voice is wary, “don’t tell me you live here.”

At least it's a nice hotel, could be worse 🤷🏻‍♀️

“I didn’t know this was where you landed,” he says, “but when I got here and heard you were one of the top lawyers in this town, I felt a mix of curiosity and pride and... something else." His voice drops lower, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. "I thought about reaching out, but..." You turn to face him fully, your breath catching slightly at his proximity. "But what?"Andy's eyes search yours, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. "But I was ashamed. Of how things ended between us in law school. Of how my life had fallen apart. I didn't want you to see me like that, but I didn’t want to run away and start my new chapter making a cowardly choice by picking some place else."

🥺🥺🥺

"I know this isn’t the right time," Andy starts, his voice low and husky, "but I can't ignore this anymore." Before you can respond, he closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. For a moment, you're too stunned to react. But then, as if a dam has broken, you're kissing him back with equal fervor, years of unresolved tension pouring out.

"We were too busy hating each other back at law school, but I've thought about this for years," he murmurs. "About you." “You hated me?” you ask. “No,” he admits. “Me either,” you say truthfully.

Well glad that that finally got resolved 😅

Gently, he turns you back to face him, and then in one fluid motion, Andy lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carries you to the bed, laying you down gently on the soft mattress. Andy kneels above you for a moment, pausing, his eyes roaming your body with undisguised desire. He’s already taken you once, so it’s no surprise, but his gaze is overwhelmingly intense, almost reverent, as if he's committing every curve and freckle to memory. "You're beautiful," he murmurs, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

😮‍💨🥰😮‍💨🥰

You run your fingers through his hair, down his back, feeling the play of muscles under his skin. There's an intimacy to this moment that surprises you - it's not just about physical pleasure, but a connection that feels deeper, more meaningful. Unexplored potential from years before spilling into reality now.

It waited all these years together be explored

Andy's hands knead the muscles of your shoulders, working out knots you didn't even realize were there. His touch is firm but gentle, alternating between deep pressure and feather-light caresses. You feel yourself melting into the mattress, tension draining from your body.

I need a massage like that too💆🏻‍♀️

You nod, acutely aware of the warmth of his body pressed against yours. "The case..." "Is still our priority," Andy finishes for you. "We can't let this distract us from what's at stake."

Let's keep our heads in the game

You sit up slowly, the sheet pooling around your waist. Andy's eyes roam your body appreciatively before meeting your gaze again. "But I don't regret it," he says firmly. "Do you?" You consider for a moment, then shake your head. "No, I don't. But we need to be careful." You nod, leaning into his touch. "And when we're not working?" A slow smile spreads across Andy's face. "When we're not working, we can explore... this." He gestures between you two.

I can work with that 😌

You hesitate, knowing you should probably leave, maintain some distance. But the thought of curling up in Andy's arms is too appealing when he’s so willing.

No way I would say no to a cuddle invitation like that

Happy Friday, Aspen!

Legal Temptations

Characters/Pairings: Andy Barber x curvy Millennial female!Reader Word Count: 6.4k Summary: After battling with Andy Barber in the courtroom, your relationship takes a turn when you receive an unexpected message from your rival requesting a secretive meeting to discuss a high-profile murder case. Intrigued but cautious, you can't turn down the invitation from Newton's former Assistant District Attorney and your former law school rival.

Content/Warnings: explicit smut: vaginal fingering, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), ; mild exhibitionism (sex in front of a window), first time anal play/rimming; dirty talk; a lot of plot BEFORE we get to the smut

Notes: Sorry it's not Friday, Jen, and sorry this has also sat in my inbox for months! I kept on wanting to do something new with Andy and wanting to post it on a Friday, but things kept on getting away from me. Now I'm just posting and to hell with previous intentions, hahaha. But kicking off my series of Valentine Storygrams seemed like a good time to trot him out!

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

“I find the defendant guilty as charged.”

You surreptitiously suck in a breath and school your face to remain completely and utterly professional.

But your chest bursts into a triumphant fire at the judge’s verdict.

You’ve won, yet again, against Andy Barber. And rightly so. Your client was the victim, plain and simple. But it’s the third time in three months.

And it feels damn good to know you did.

As the courtroom erupts into a flurry of murmurs and movement, you gather your papers with practiced efficiency, sliding them into your briefcase. You avoid looking at the defense table.

The judge's gavel cracks through the air. "Court is adjourned."

You rise, buttoning your blazer with one smooth motion. Only then do you allow yourself a brief glance at your opponent. Andy's jaw is clenched, his shoulders tense as he leans in to whisper something to his client. A twinge of sympathy flickers through you - you know all too well the sting of defeat. But you still can't help savoring this moment, this victory. It's not just about winning – it's about justice served, about protecting the innocent and punishing the guilty.

As you stride towards the exit, your heels clicking authoritatively on the polished floor, a hand catches your elbow. You turn to find Sarah, your paralegal, grinning widely.

"Drinks to celebrate?" she asks, her eyes sparkling with shared victory.

You nod, allowing a small smile to curve your lips. "Absolutely. The usual place in an hour?"

Sarah gives you a nod, and then she’s approached by the brother of your client - whose been trying to hold back his clear crush on your paralegal until the case was over, and you’re happy to see him shoot his shot. He’s a sweet kid, just about her age, and she’s had terrible luck in the romance department. This could be a path out of the woods for her of those post-grad men who still desperately tried to cling to their frat boy glory.

You make your way out of the courtroom, nodding politely to colleagues and spectators. In the hallway, a reporter approaches, microphone extended.

"Counselor, another impressive win. Any comments on the verdict?"

You pause, choosing your words carefully. "We’re obviously pleased with the verdict. That's all I'll say for now. Any further comments will come through official channels." You offer a polite but firm smile, sidestepping the reporter with practiced ease.

As you’re about to get into your car, you look back at the courthouse and spot Andy Barber exiting the building, his face masking frustration and defeat. For a moment, your eyes lock. There's a flash of something—respect, perhaps, or resignation—before he turns away, striding purposefully towards the parking lot.

You shake off the encounter and settle into your car. Between the drive home to change into something more casual and then the drive to your usual celebratory spot, you’re able to decompress, shed the courtroom persona, and remember who you are outside of the high-stakes world of criminal law.

By the time you push open the door of O'Malley's, your favorite low-key bar, you're feeling more like yourself. Sarah is already there. She’s landed you a good corner booth, and two of the other paralegals from your office and your assistant are there, too.

As you slide into the booth, Sarah pushes a glass of your favorite scotch towards you. "To justice," she says, raising her own glass in a toast.

"To justice," you echo, clinking glasses with the group. The warm burn of the liquor is a welcome sensation after the tension of the day in court.

Your assistant, Mark, leans in eagerly. "So, boss, give us the details. How did Barber's face look when the verdict came down?"

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Now, now. We're professionals here. We don't gloat."

"Speak for yourself," Sarah quips, earning a round of laughter from the table.

As the conversation flows, the weight of the case finally lifting from your shoulders. Sarah’s receiving and responding to a few texts, apparently having agreed to give her number to the client’s brother. The victory feels sweeter shared with these people who helped you prepare for the case and who understand the long hours and emotional toll of the job.

Sarah leans in, her voice lowered conspiratorially. "So, what's next? Rumor has it the DA's office is eyeing you for a big case."

You take a sip of your drink, considering. "Nothing's confirmed yet, but there have been some interesting conversations. We'll see."

Just then, it’s your phone that buzzes. Glancing down, you see a text from an unknown number:

Congratulations on the win. We need to talk. Meet me at hotel bar at Clark’s, 10 PM tonight. Come alone. -AB

Your brow furrows. AB. Andy Barber. What could he possibly want? And why the secrecy?

You don’t respond right away. It’s only just past eight. You have time to consider the situation.

But ultimately, your curiosity wins out, and around nine, you make your excuses and leave your staff at O’Malley’s.

On your way to Clark’s, your wheels turn over the enigma that is Andy Barber.

He showed up in town almost six months ago, relocated from Massachusetts where he’d been the assistant district attorney before his son had been accused of murder. You had followed the tragic unfolding of events - the family ostracized from their community, brief reprieve when Jacob had been cleared, and then the tragic accident where his son and his wife ended up in critical condition. Jacob passed away, never coming out of his coma, and though Laurie recovered, a year later, their marriage never did, and they divorced in a fairly civil proceeding.

You had really felt for him initially.

But once you started coming up against him in the court room, you were reminded why you had hated him all through law school. He was always good at what he did, and he was smug about it. The two of you had competed for everything. Top spot of each class, the most competitive internships, nearly coming out even, but he edged you out for valedictorian of your graduating class, leaving you as salutatorian.

He’d gone public defender, and you’d moved back to your home state and gone into private practice, and you really hadn’t thought of him again until he made the news - because the son of an ADA being hit with murder charges made the national news circuit.

But back at law school, he’d gotten under your skin, and as much as you tried to ignore it now, he was doing it again.

You arrive at Clark's Hotel ten minutes before the agreed time, your mind still churning with questions. The hotel bar is dimly lit, all dark wood and leather, exuding an air of discreet luxury. You scan the room, but there's no sign of Andy yet.

Settling at the bar, you order a club soda. You need to keep your wits about you for whatever this meeting might bring. The bartender slides your drink across the polished surface just as you feel a presence at your elbow.

"Thanks for coming," Andy greets you in a low voice.

You turn to face him, taking in his appearance. He looks tired, the lines around his eyes deeper than you remember from the courtroom. His suit is slightly rumpled, as if he's been wearing it all day.

"What's this about, Andy?" you ask, cutting straight to the chase.

He glances around the bar, then back to you. "Not here. I've got a room upstairs. We can talk there."

Your instincts flare with caution, but curiosity wins out. You nod, following him to the elevator.

The ride up is silent, tension thick in the air. As the elevator doors slide open, you follow Andy down the plush carpeted hallway. He stops at room 712, swiping the keycard and holding the door open for you.

You hesitate for a moment before stepping inside. The room is spacious but dimly lit, with a view of the city skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows. Andy moves to the mini bar, pouring himself a generous measure of whiskey. He offers you one, but you decline with a shake of your head.

"Alright, we're here. What's going on?" you ask, your patience wearing thin.

He takes a long sip of his drink before turning to face you, his expression grave. "I need your help," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You raise an eyebrow, skepticism clear in your voice. "My help? With what?"

Andy runs a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration you remember from your law school days. "It's about the Donovan case."

Your mind races. Robert Donovan, a prominent businessman, found brutally murdered in his penthouse apartment. The Donovan case is the high-profile murder trial of the year - possibly of the decade - and set to begin in a few weeks.

Your eyebrows shoot up. "The Donovan case? Andy, that's not even your case. It's being handled by the DA's office."

He nods, pacing the room. "I know, I know. But I've been looking into it, and something's not right. The evidence doesn't add up."

You cross your arms, leaning against the wall. "What do you mean?"

Andy takes a deep breath, then launches into a detailed explanation. He talks about inconsistencies in witness statements, forensic evidence that doesn't quite fit the prosecution's timeline, and a potential alibi for the defendant that wasn't fully investigated. As he speaks, you find yourself drawn in, your legal mind picking apart the details.

"The blood spatter analysis," he says, pulling out a file from his briefcase, "it doesn't match the prosecution's theory of how the murder happened. And look at this," he points to a photo, "the angle of the wound suggests the attacker was left-handed, but Donovan is right-handed."

You lean in, examining the evidence. It's compelling. "Andy, this is... fascinating. But why are you showing me this? Why not take it to the DA? Or the press?”

“Someone with too much money, too much power, and too much influence is somehow pulling strings to pin this the way they want. You can help me identify the right players. But, what’s more, you have the necessary clout and influence in this town to go to the DA and be taken seriously, and I don’t have that yet.”

You take in a deep breath and study his face.

Impatient, he implores you by name - first name, not last name like he always did in law school and like he had these past months.

“It’s eating you up to admit that, isn’t it?” you finally say.

He puts his hands on his hips and lets out a deep sigh. “Yeah, it does. Satisfied?”

“Mildly,” you admit, a hint of a smirk on your face. “But Andy, why should I trust you? Word around town is you’re hit or miss on your cases, and I’ve just beat you on all three when we’ve come toe to toe.”

He arches a brow. “You think I’ve lost my edge?”

“You were brilliant Newton - on track to be the DA, you won everything.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. He licks his lips. “Do you think it’s possible that the cases I’m losing now are for the defendants that should be put behind bars, the ones I have no guilt taking money from, and that I’m just that good that they never question that I’m making sure they get what they deserve?”

You arch an eyebrow. He doesn’t lose everything, and he certainly didn’t make any rookie mistakes on the cases he is losing.

“I’m willing to entertain that premise.”

“Alright, that’s all I need. Now what about Donovan?”

You mull over everything he’s shared so far. Your gut says he’s not wrong.

He says your name again, prompting you back into the moment.

You lock eyes with Andy, searching for any hint of deception. But all you see is earnestness and a hint of desperation.

"Okay," you say slowly, "I'll listen. But I need to know everything. No holding back, no surprises later. If we're going to do this, we do it right."

Relief washes over Andy's face. He nods vigorously. "Of course. Everything I have, it's all yours."

You move to the small desk in the corner of the room, pulling out a chair. "Alright then, let's get to work. Start from the beginning."

For the next few hours, you and Andy pour over the evidence, dissecting every detail of the Donovan case. As the night wears on, your skepticism fades, replaced by a growing certainty that something is indeed very wrong with this case.

Around two am, you lean back in your chair, rubbing your eyes. "This is big, Andy. Really big. If what we suspect is true, it could implicate some very powerful people."

Andy nods grimly. "I know. That's why I needed your help. I won’t be able to do this alone."

You sigh and press your fingers to your temples, massaging away what stress you can, though it seems futile. “This has to stay between us for now. If there's even a whisper of this getting out before we're ready..."

"I know," he interrupts. "Believe me, I understand the stakes."

As he gathers the files, you move to the window, gazing out at the city below. The lights twinkle like stars, hiding the secrets and machinations of the powerful. You can't help but wonder what you're getting yourself into.

Andy appears at your side, and you turn slightly to look at him. “Why are we in a hotel room discussing this? Secrecy? If you’re that worried, it won’t be hard to track you here.”

“I…” he laughs. “No, actually. It’s worse than that.”

“Oh, Andy,” your voice is wary, “don’t tell me you live here.”

“I haven’t gotten around to finding a place.”

“Six months, Andy!”

He smirks and cocks his head. “You’ve been keeping track of how long I’ve been in town?”

You look away, feeling your cheeks flood with heat.

He takes a step closer, not touching, but near enough that you can feel the warmth of his body.

“I didn’t know this was where you landed,” he says, “but when I got here and heard you were one of the top lawyers in this town, I felt a mix of curiosity and pride and... something else." His voice drops lower, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. "I thought about reaching out, but..."

You turn to face him fully, your breath catching slightly at his proximity. "But what?"

Andy's eyes search yours, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. "But I was ashamed. Of how things ended between us in law school. Of how my life had fallen apart. I didn't want you to see me like that, but I didn’t want to run away and start my new chapter making a cowardly choice by picking some place else."

The admission hangs in the air between you, heavy with unspoken history. You remember the fierce competition, the heated debates, the undercurrent of tension that had always existed between you two. And now, years later, here you are, standing toe to toe once again.

"Andy," you start, unsure of what to say. But before you can continue, he takes a step back, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry," he says quickly. "That's not why I asked you here. We should focus on the case."

You nod, trying to ignore the sudden pang of disappointment. "Right, the case. We need a plan."

As Andy moves back to the desk, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions - frustration at his deflection, curiosity about what might have been, and an overwhelming sense that you're on the precipice of something monumental with this case.

Leaving the window, you join him at the desk. "We need to be methodical about this. We can't afford to make any mistakes."

Andy nods, his professional demeanor firmly back in place. "Agreed. I think our first step should be to re-interview some of the key witnesses. There are inconsistencies in their statements that we need to explore further."

You tap your finger on the desk, thinking. "That's risky. If word gets back to whoever's pulling the strings, they might move to cover their tracks."

"True," Andy concedes. "But if we're careful, we might be able to gather crucial information without raising suspicions."

You consider this for a moment. "Alright, but we do it discreetly. No official channels. We'll need to come up with a cover story for why we're asking questions."

As you and Andy begin to outline your strategy, you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement. You feel it in every meaty case, that feeling never going away though you’ve been practicing for years.

"We obviously need to be careful about who we to to with this information," Andy says.

"I have a few trusted contacts in the police department who might be able to help us discreetly.”

“I’ve already established a few contacts on the street. And what about your paralegal, Sarah? Could she be brought in on this?"

You consider for a moment. "Sarah's reliable, and she has a knack for research. She could be invaluable. But let's wait before bringing anyone else in. For now, it's just us."

"Just us," Andy echoes, his eyes meeting yours. There's a beat of silence, heavy with unspoken words.

You clear your throat.

"Right," you say, breaking the tension. "Let's focus on our next steps. We need to start gathering concrete evidence to support our theory."

Andy nods, visibly refocusing. "I've been thinking about that. There's a security guard at Donovan's building who was working the night of the murder. His statement seemed off. Like he was holding something back."

"Good catch," you reply, impressed despite yourself. "We should try to talk to him first. Maybe we can convince him to come clean."

"Agreed. I'll set up a meeting, make it look casual. We don't want to spook him."

As you continue planning, the sky outside begins to lighten. You glance at your watch, surprised to find it's nearly five am.

"We should probably call it a night," you say, stifling a yawn. "Or morning, I guess."

Andy looks up from the notes he's been scribbling, seeming equally surprised by the time. "You're right. We've made good progress, and we’ll need to be sharp for this."

You start gathering your things, your mind already racing with the day ahead. As you reach for your coat, Andy's hand brushes against yours. The touch sends an electric current through your body, and you freeze, suddenly hyper-aware of his proximity. You turn to face him, and the intensity in his eyes takes your breath away.

"I know this isn’t the right time," Andy starts, his voice low and husky, "but I can't ignore this anymore."

Before you can respond, he closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. For a moment, you're too stunned to react. But then, as if a dam has broken, you're kissing him back with equal fervor, years of unresolved tension pouring out.

Your hands find their way into his hair as he cups your face in his hands. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more desperate.

Andy breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as you both catch your breath. "We shouldn't," he whispers, but his actions betray his words as his hands roam your body.

"No, we shouldn't," you agree, even as you start unbutton his white shirt. You know you should leave, should maintain professional boundaries. But the pull is magnetic, undeniable.

His hands reach for your hips but slide up your waist, fingers slipping beneath your sweater, and your feel your skin light up at every point of contact.

"We were too busy hating each other back at law school, but I've thought about this for years," he murmurs. "About you."

“You hated me?” you ask.

“No,” he admits.

“Me either,” you say truthfully.

Before you can say anything more, his lips are on yours. This second kiss is tentative at first, a question. But when you respond, wrapping your arms around his neck, it quickly becomes heated, desperate. Years of competition, of unspoken attraction, of what-ifs, all pour into this moment.

Your back hits the cool glass of the window, and you gasp at the contrast with Andy's warm body pressing against you. His hands are everywhere, pushing your sweater up and off your shoulders, reaching for the button of your jeans.

Your fingers fumble with more of the buttons of Andy's shirt as he trails hot kisses down your neck. The cool glass against your back contrasts sharply with the heat of his body pressed against yours. Your head spins, overwhelmed by sensation and the surreal nature of the moment.

"Wait," you gasp, placing a hand on his chest. Andy freezes immediately, concern flashing in his eyes. "Are you sure about this?" you ask, searching his face. "There's no going back."

Andy cups your face in his hands, his gaze intense. "I'm sure," he says, his voice low and gravelly. "But I’ll stop if you want to me to stop—"

You silence him with a kiss, pouring all your pent-up desire into it. That's all the confirmation Andy needs.

Clothes are shed hastily, hands roaming newly exposed skin.

Andy spins you around, your bare skin pressing against the cool glass of the floor-to-ceiling window. The city sprawls out before you, bathed in the soft light of dawn. The sky is a canvas of pastel pinks and oranges, the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon.

His warm body molds against your back as his lips find the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder. You shiver, partly from the chill of the glass, partly from the heat of his touch. Your breath fogs the window as Andy's hands roam your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

The city below is beginning to stir, early risers starting their day, unaware of the passionate scene unfolding high above them. There's a thrill in being so exposed, yet so hidden.

Andy's fingers thread through yours, pressing your palm against the glass, his other hand guiding the head of his thick cock to your entrance as he enters you slowly. You gasp at the sensation, your eyes fluttering closed. He’s big, so big.

Andy's hand grips your hip, holding you steady as he starts to move. The slow, steady rhythm is almost agonizing, but you can feel every inch of him stretching and filling you. You moan, your head falling back against his shoulder as the pleasure builds.

His pace picks up gradually as he leans down to kiss your neck again, his teeth grazing over your skin. Your fingers curl against the glass, your body moving in sync with his.

It's like a symphony of sensations – the warmth of Andy's body against yours, the coolness of the glass on your skin, the sounds of pleasure mingled with the noises from outside. It’s been years since you were intimate with anyone, and you have forgotten how good it feels to have a man inside you instead of a toy.

You lose yourself in it all, chasing after that elusive release that seems just out of reach. But then Andy's hand slides between your body and the glass, his fingers finding their way to your sensitive bundle of nerves. He presses down just right and everything around you fades away as you come undone in his arms.

Andy follows soon after with a low groan, pulling out just before he spills his seed over your lower back and ass, his body shuddering against yours with pleasure. You collapse against the glass, and he presses against you, both breathing heavily and trying to catch your breaths.

As reality starts to creep back in, you realize how exposed you are – a naked couple pressed against a floor-to-ceiling window for anyone below to see. Panic sets in for a brief moment before being chased away by a warm contentment at being wrapped up in Andy's embrace.

"Good thing we’re seven floors up," he whispers into your ear, seeming to read your mind. He presses a kiss to your shoulder before pulling back slightly and reaching for tissues from a nearby table to clean his spend from your back.

You laugh softly as you start to look around for your clothes. "Definitely not something I ever thought I'd do. And never thought it would be with you."

"I'm glad we did though," Andy says with a smile that you feel against your neck as he presses in behind you, not letting you move away just yet.

The rising sun paints your bodies in a golden glow, highlighting the sheen of sweat on your skin. Andy's free hand traces the curve of your breast, and you sigh happily.

Gently, he turns you back to face him, and then in one fluid motion, Andy lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carries you to the bed, laying you down gently on the soft mattress.

Andy kneels above you for a moment, pausing, his eyes roaming your body with undisguised desire. He’s already taken you once, so it’s no surprise, but his gaze is overwhelmingly intense, almost reverent, as if he's committing every curve and freckle to memory.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

There's no rush, no desperate urgency. Andy takes his time, exploring your body with gentle hands and soft lips. He traces the curve of your neck, the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist. Each touch sends shivers through you, generating a slow, simmering heat.

You run your fingers through his hair, down his back, feeling the play of muscles under his skin. There's an intimacy to this moment that surprises you - it's not just about physical pleasure, but a connection that feels deeper, more meaningful. Unexplored potential from years before spilling into reality now.

Andy's lips trail lower, across your stomach, down to the inside of your thighs. Your breath hitches as he settles between your legs, his intent clear. The first swipe of his tongue has you arching off the bed, a gasp escaping your lips.

As Andy’s tongue expertly circles your sensitive clit, you can’t help but lose yourself in the sensation. His skillful fingers tease and caress your folds, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Your moans grow louder as he delves deeper, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to drive you wild. You lose all sense of time, only focused on the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

With each flick of his tongue, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your body tenses as you reach your peak, crying out in ecstasy as a powerful orgasm rocks through you.

Andy continues to pleasure you until your body finally relaxes, then he crawls back up to kiss you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

"Wow," is all you can manage to say, still catching your breath.

"Mmm," Andy hums against your lips. "You taste amazing."

His tongue dances with yours, exploring every corner of your mouth. The intensity builds as he presses his body against yours, one hand tangling in your hair while the other caresses your side.

The kiss seems to go on forever, stealing your breath away. Just when you think you might need to come up for air, Andy breaks away, only to trail kisses along your jaw and down your neck. His lips find that sensitive spot behind your ear, and you shiver with pleasure.

"Turn over," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You comply, rolling onto your stomach. Andy's weight shifts on the bed as he positions himself over you. His lips return to your skin, starting at the nape of your neck. He places soft, feather-light kisses down your spine, taking his time to savor every inch.

His hands glide along your sides as he moves lower, kneading the muscles of your back. You feel the tension melting away under his touch. Andy's lips follow the curve of your spine, his stubble lightly scratching your skin and sending tingles through your body.

As he reaches the small of your back, he pauses. You feel his breath, warm and heavy, against your skin. Then his tongue darts out, tracing a sensual line back up your spine. You arch into the touch, a soft moan escaping your lips.

Andy's hands knead the muscles of your shoulders, working out knots you didn't even realize were there. His touch is firm but gentle, alternating between deep pressure and feather-light caresses. You feel yourself melting into the mattress, tension draining from your body.

As his hands work their magic, Andy's lips continue their exploration. He places open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder blades, occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin. Each touch sends sparks of pleasure coursing through you.

His hands are firm yet gentle, eliciting soft sighs of pleasure from you. As they move lower, massaging down your back, you feel yourself melting into the mattress.

His lips follow the path of his hands, peppering kisses across your shoulder blades and down your spine. The combination of his strong hands and soft lips has you practically purring with contentment.

Andy doesn’t pause when reaches the curve of your lower back this time. His hands grip your hips, lifting them slightly. You understand his intent and rise up onto your knees, keeping your chest pressed to the bed.

Andy's hands caress your ass, kneading the flesh appreciatively. You feel exposed in this position, but the reverence in his touch chases away any self-consciousness. His thumb traces your folds, finding you still slick with arousal.

"God, you’re already so wet," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “Getting wetter and wetter for me.”

Andy's hands caress your thighs as he positions himself behind you. "I want to taste you again," he says, his voice low and husky. "You think you can take more?"

You nod eagerly, anticipation building as you feel his warm breath on your sensitive flesh.

"I dreamt of having you like this in the library our last semester," he confesses and you groan. "Spread your legs a little wider for me."

You comply eagerly, shifting your knees further apart on the soft sheets. Andy's thumbs gently part your folds, exposing your most intimate areas to his hungry gaze.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he coos, leaning in so you can feel his hot breath on your sex for a moment, and you fist the sheets.

Andy starts with gentle kisses along your inner thighs, working his way higher. When his tongue makes contact with your core, you gasp at the sensation.

"You taste so good," Andy murmurs against you. "I could do this for hours."

His tongue explores every fold and crevice, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on your most sensitive spots. You moan as he circles your clit, pleasure building with each pass.

"That's it, let me hear you," Andy encourages. "I love the sounds you make."

He slips a finger inside you, curling it to hit just the right spot as his tongue continues its ministrations. The dual stimulation has you writhing, pushing back against his face.

"So responsive," Andy says appreciatively. "So wet and ready for me. You're close, aren't you?"

You can only whimper in response as he increases the pressure. Andy's skilled tongue works over your sensitive flesh, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on your clit. His hands grip your hips firmly, holding you in place as you writhe with pleasure.

"More," you gasp, fisting the sheets. "Please, Andy, don't stop."

He obliges, redoubling his efforts. His tongue delves deeper, exploring every fold and crevice of your sex. You feel the familiar tension building, a tingling heat spreading through your core.

"That's it," Andy encourages, briefly pausing his ministrations. "I can feel you getting close. Your pussy's clenching, begging for release."

He slides a second finger inside you, curling them both to hit that perfect spot. Combined with the relentless attention of his tongue on your clit, you reach for the peak of a third release, but then he slows.

You whine and shift against him. He chuckles. “Oh, I want to torture you more while I enjoy your eager body.”

“Andy!”

“You love it,” he says, “and I have a feeling you can take so much more.”

Andy's hands caress your thighs as he shifts his position slightly. "I want to explore every inch of you," he murmurs, his breath warm against your sensitive skin.

Andy's hands gently part your cheeks, exposing you fully. You feel a moment of vulnerability, but it quickly gives way to arousal as his tongue traces a path higher. When it reaches your puckered entrance, you gasp at the new sensation.

"Is this okay?" Andy murmurs against your sensitive skin.

You nod, words failing you as he begins to explore this uncharted territory. His tongue circles your opening, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention. The feeling is unlike anything you've experienced before - strange at first, but quickly becoming intensely pleasurable.

Andy takes his time, his movements slow and deliberate. His hands knead your ass cheeks as his tongue works its magic, occasionally dipping lower to tease your dripping core before returning to its primary focus.

As you relax into the sensation, Andy becomes bolder. The tip of his tongue presses against your tight ring of muscle, not quite entering but applying delicious pressure. You moan, pushing back against him, silently begging for more.

"You like that, don't you?" Andy says, his voice husky with desire. "Your body's so responsive, so eager for my touch."

He resumes his ministrations.

"Relax," Andy soothes, his hands massaging your lower back. "Just feel."

His tongue circles your entrance, tracing lazy patterns that send tingles of pleasure through your body as he continues.

He alternates between broad strokes and more focused attention, occasionally dipping his tongue inside. The sensation is intense, making you moan and push back against his face.

"That's it," Andy encourages. "You're doing so well. Does it feel good?"

“Yes,” you whimper as he increases the pressure.

Your body trembles with pleasure as Andy continues his intimate exploration. His skilled tongue works you into a frenzy, alternating between your sensitive openings. Just when you think you can't take anymore, he slides two fingers into your dripping core while his tongue focuses on your puckered entrance.

The dual stimulation is overwhelming. You cry out, fisting the sheets as waves of pleasure crash over you. Andy doesn't let up, working you through your orgasm and beyond it.

When the aftershocks finally subside, Andy places a gentle kiss on your lower back before moving up to lie beside you. He gathers you into his arms, stroking your hair as you catch your breath.

"You're incredible," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You snuggle closer, basking in the afterglow. For a moment, you forget about the case, about the complications. You're just two people, connected in the most intimate way.

But reality starts to creep back in as your breathing returns to normal. You lift your head to look at Andy, finding his eyes already on you.

"We should talk about this," you say softly.

"Us? Two lawyers? Talk about something?”

You laugh softly at Andy's quip, but the seriousness in his eyes belies his light tone. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and brushes his thumb over your cheek.

"I know," he says, his voice low. "This complicates things."

You nod, acutely aware of the warmth of his body pressed against yours. "The case..."

"Is still our priority," Andy finishes for you. "We can't let this distract us from what's at stake."

You sit up slowly, the sheet pooling around your waist. Andy's eyes roam your body appreciatively before meeting your gaze again.

"But I don't regret it," he says firmly. "Do you?"

You consider for a moment, then shake your head. "No, I don't. But we need to be careful."

"Yes," Andy agrees. He sits up too, running a hand through his tousled hair. He looks at you another moment, and then his hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "I think we need to keep this separate from our work on the case. When we're working, we're colleagues. Nothing more."

You nod, leaning into his touch. "And when we're not working?"

A slow smile spreads across Andy's face. "When we're not working, we can explore... this." He gestures between you two.

A smile tugs at your lips. "I like the sound of that."

Andy leans in, his lips brushing yours in a gentle kiss. It’s slow, and there’s a sweetness in the depth of it that scares you a little, not expecting that.

But you kiss him back, savoring the moment before reluctantly pulling away. "We should probably get some sleep," you say, glancing at the clock. "It's almost 7 AM."

Andy nods, but his hand trails down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "Stay," he says, his voice low and husky. "We can grab a few hours of sleep here, then get started on the case."

You hesitate, knowing you should probably leave, maintain some distance. But the thought of curling up in Andy's arms is too appealing when he’s so willing.

Andy's warm body envelops you as he pulls you down to lie beside him. His arm securely wraps around your waist, offering comfort and warmth. You nestle closer, finding solace in the rise and fall of his chest beneath your head. The rhythmic beat of his heart lulls you into a peaceful state in the early morning hours, your eyelids finally surrendering to the heaviness of sleep. As the world fades away, you know what’s coming next will be one of the most difficult challenges of your life professionally and personally, but at least in this moment you will take solace in the tenuous safety of this connection.

I started this story months ago, was pretty disenchanted with at the time (thanks @biteofcherry for talking me through that), but now that it's had time to age, I went back in, did some rewriting, and I'm happy with where it has finally landed.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[delight-angelsbliss]

Hello! Could I request S1 number 26 with Sonic?

Thank you 🫶

Prompts: "I can never get enough of of looking at you like this"

Warnings: none to my knowledge there aren't any specific pronouns:3

Notes: Heya cutie patootie thx for requesting and I hope you like these<33 sry this got out so late my queue only posts two things a day lol and I had some business I still can't believe I worded 26 so stupidly but sucks to suck ig I hope this just short and sweet enough

Sonic isn't much of a romantic person, but when he is, it's always fun and entertaining

His ideas flow like a river and his enthusiasm is unmatched

So it wasn't a surprise that when the month of love came up, he was all over you with chocolate, physical affection, and much more

On this particular evening he decided to stay home with you and bake some heart macaroons while dancing to music

He asked a few friends for help and got some recipes online to know what to buy and how to bake them

It was a fool proof plan

The two of you were cleaning the mess from flour and anything that might have got messy while dancing to music during the baking session

Sonic even started breakdancing (please tell me someone has seen him breakdance because oh em gee why is he lowkey good at it) the macaroons were in the oven and you two finally had a moment together, away from harm and stress

As you continued to mop, you didn't notice sonic looking at you, he was admiring you, the way you were dancing, singing and just enjoying life

"I can never get enough of of looking at you like this" he suddenly blurts out, you look back at him, smiling

"Ok, Mr. Charming, don't forget the macaroons" you retort, before turning back to the mess on the counter

It wasn't a rare occurrence for sonic to compliment you, quite the contrary! He was always on and with you whenever he could or when he wasn't on some adventure

He looks back at you

"I know your smiling!" He says, beaming, he knew you loved when he was affectionate and so did he. Sonic always felt guilty when he had to cancel plans because of something going on, but he knew this was enough to make it up to you

He loved every second of it, maybe it would be nice to do this more often

There's always the rest of February

[altaiiriss]

Repost from Trans Chuuya week 2024

Day 3 — Gender euphoria

(This is a sequel to day 1; it can be read as a standalone but I suggest reading that one first!)

"Oh my—"

Dazai almost freezes as he steps into the kitchen.

The first thing he sees in the morning—

"Why is Chuuya wearing my shirt?" he asks, utterly dumbfounded.

Chuuya smirks. "Like what you see?"

"You didn't answer my question." Dazai chastises, taking a few steps towards the redhead as if he can't escape his magnetic pull.

"Nothing serious. Helps with the dysphoria."

A barely audible 'oh' escapes Dazai's lips as his eyes stare at his partner.

It's quite impossible to make out his silhouette through the shirt, for it is ridiculously bigger than Chuuya's regular clothes. He looks completely relaxed—a sharp contrast to the previous day where he could barely stare at his reflection in the mirror.

He looks—

"Handsome." Dazai mumbles before he can even form a coherent thought, his mouth clearly acting faster than his reasoning.

Chuuya's face suddenly heats up, cheeks flushing a lovely shade of red. Will he ever stop blushing at simple compliments?

"Shut up." he protests, heart pounding in his chest at the speed of light. "Go grab some clothes. We're going to that French bakery."

Dazai swallows. Chuuya declined the same offer less than 24 hours ago, terror settling in his stomach at the thought of being perceived the wrong way.

Today's different—Chuuya looks so confident and at ease that Dazai wishes he could freeze this moment and let Chuuya experience this happiness in eternal.

Damn, he would model Chuuya's body with his own hands like a sculptor if he could, if it meant the redhead wouldn't be at war with himself anymore.

When they enter the bakery a hour later, Dazai's brain is still processing the fact that Chuuya found a way to style his button up shirt into an actual outfit, despite the obvious wrong size.

A stylish slug, dare he say.

"A café au lait," the waitress repeats Dazai's order as she writes it down, then she glances at Chuuya. "What can I get you, sir?"

"A black coffee with extra ice, thanks." he replies, offering the lady a warm smile.

"Someone's in a good mood today, uh?" Dazai points out as soon as the waitress leaves, smiling in return.

"Shut up." Chuuya retorts, as if he's ashamed of his own happiness.

He's so silly, Dazai thinks.

"I can hear the slug thinking." Dazai observes. Reading Chuuya like a book is a familiar language that has been carved into his bones long ago. "Feeling good won't kill you, you know."

Someone suddenly approaches them before Chuuya is given the chance to reply.

"Uhm, sorry to interrupt," a young teenager mutters, unsure, and their gaze promptly lands on Chuuya, "May I ask you how to dress like this?"

"Like this?" Chuuya echoes back, brows furrowed.

"Like an elegant man."

"This elegant man is taken." Dazai chimes in, grabbing Chuuya's hand in a rather possessive manner.

"Oh god Dazai, why do you feel threatened by a literal kid," Chuuya groans, then smiles back at them. "What do you want to know exactly?"

The young kid, who is most likely around 16 years old, nervously plays with their hair. Both Dazai and Chuuya struggle to understand why they are so tense.

"I want to look like a boy too," they mumble quietly, as if they're afraid to admit it out loud, "I don't feel like a girl."

"Oh." Chuuya gasps, positively surprised. "You're like me."

"I'm like you?"

"I wanted to look like a boy too—I am a boy because I've never felt like I was girl."

The young boy nods, eyes shining with newfound joy. "I finally found someone like me."

Chuuya's breath gets stuck in his throat. It's like speaking to a younger version of himself, a teenager Chuuya who never shared his feelings with anyone until the Flags took him with them.

'The Flags got two trans boys now!' Albatross had said, and Chuuya had finally found a word that described that feeling he had been experiencing since forever.

"Yeah, we're alike, kiddo." Chuuya agrees, a warm feeling blooming in his chest.

"You two go have a chat now," Dazai, ever the mastermind, states cheerfully as he gets up, his seat now empty. "I'll be waiting outside."

Chuuya only comes out of the bakery one hour later.

"Well, it's time for us to head ho—" Dazai stops as he notices Chuuya's cheeks getting wetter. "Oh no, the slug is producing slug juices." Dazai sighs with faux annoyance and grabs Chuuya until he's burying him in his chest.

"I'm going to stain your shirt with my makeup." Chuuya mutters, heaving a shaky breath.

"It's going to be our washing machine's business."

"I'm not sad by the way," Chuuya clarifies, sniffing quietly. "Just overwhelmed."

"Chuuya stood up for himself inside that café as well, didn't he?"

"Yeah. It felt good. To be able to help someone just by being myself, I mean."

"Chuuya is always himself, on both good and bad days." Dazai murmurs, carding his fingers through red curls. "He doesn't stop being Chuuya when he struggles with himself. It's still you, always."

Chuuya tries to clean his face with the palm of his hands and Dazai does the same, brushing his thumb across Chuuya's reddened cheeks.

It takes some hugs and unfunny jokes for Chuuya to properly calm down, but in the end his heartbeat slows down and his mind is clearer.

"You know, he also asked me how to find a partner. Because of all the prejudice and stuff." Chuuya begins, breaking the comforting silence that previously settled between them.

"And what did you say?"

"That my partner is so pathetic and down bad that he never cared about it." he grins, and now Dazai knows Chuuya is back to his usual self. "And that while relationships with other trans people surely are more fulfilling, cis people can be respectful as well."

"What I'm hearing is Chuuya thinks our relationship is fulfilling ~"

"There are some exceptions to that rule. You are one of them."

Chuuya holds him close, his actions definitely not matching his words, and Dazai smirks like the annoying devil he is.

"You like me anyway."

"Sure grandma, let's take you to bed."

Dazai slides his arm around Chuuya's waist, keeping him close until they're basically glued to each other. While yesterday it felt wrong for Chuuya to be held—as if Dazai was touching something that should not exist—living in his skin is fine today.

He is able to look at himself confidently, fully aware that his body does not define him and that soft curves and a smaller body don't take away his identity.

Regardless of gender, he's still Chuuya and that's what matters the most.

[chenlezip]

renjun, pride and prejudice ♡

⤷ summary : renjun reluctantly finds himself falling in love with a woman beneath his class. can each overcome their own pride and prejudice? annas note : part two of me writing dreamies x my favourite movies. how i adore this movie and how i adore renjun. i thought he would be perfect for this and i hope you guys enjoy this!!

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renjun had grown to gain feelings for you. never in a million years did he ever think he would fall for a girl whose sister was getting to know his close friend, a bennet nevertheless. he became more nervous around you, he couldn't even stay in the same room for no less than two minutes before excusing himself abruptly, he had already tried to admit his feelings for you but you had turned him down for ruining your sister and mr. lees engagement.

but as you tried to escape him, to forget about him, he kept turning up in your life. from your aunt and uncle bringing you to his home, him visiting you and leaving a letter explaining everything, him paying for your other sisters wedding, he arrives once again at your door with mr. lee.

you're scurrying around with your sisters and mother, tidying up the place as they get called in. renjun looks more handsome - he's tidied up his appearance and has cut his hair a little shorter. your mother is rambling to mr. lee but you cut in and ask if he's alright but.. he tells you he's going back to town tomorrow.

you can't help but be in awe as he excuses himself to go after mr. lee who had ran out your home. oh god.. you weren't falling for him were you?

the next day after a rough night and an argument with your mother, you see renjun walking in the fog toward you. he has a few buttons on his shirt undone, his long trench coat flowing behind him. you stare as he walks, looking up at down, "i couldn't sleep." "nor could i."

"my aunt came round didn't she?" "yes. she was here." you smile as you look up at him, "how can i make amends for such behaviour." he says. "after what you've done for my sisters, it is i who should be making amends."

"you must know. surely you must know it was all for you." he speaks, his voice gentle, an underlying hint of affection underneath his words. "if your feelings are still what they were last april, tell me so at once. my affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever. if however, your feelings have changed," he continues as he steps closer to you, eyeing you more intently. "i would have to tell you; you have bewitched me, body and soul and i love... i love... i love you. i never wish to be parted from you from this day on."

you speak up, your voice a whisper, "well, then.." you take his hand in yours, lifting it up to your mouth. you press a gentle kiss against his birthmark, his pretty birthmark. "your hands are cold."

he just nods and lifts his other hand to your cheek, taking a soft grip as he stares at your lips. the sun is just starting to rise from behind the two of you making you get a good view of his features. you smile and lean closer to him, your noses touching as you stare into his eyes. indeed, your feelings had changed for him, he had become a better person and someone you know can treat you right.. treat you like you wanted to be treat.

it was now once again night time and you spent the night outside together, just to get away from your family and how nosy they are about your growing relationship with renjun.

"how are you this evening, my dear?" he asked, kneeling down in front of you. "very well. only i wish you would not call me 'my dear'." you respond softly, taking his hands in yours. "why?"

" 'cause its what my father always calls my mother when he's cross about something." "what endearments am i allowed?" he asked as he tried to hide the grin that was growing on his face. "well, let me think.."

"n/n (nickname) for everyday. my pearl, for sundays and goddess divine but only on very special occasions.." you joke with a smile. "and what shall i call you when i'm cross?" renjun tilted his head.

"mrs huang?" he joked. "no, no. you must only call me mrs. huang when you are completely and perfectly and incandescently happy." he smiled and leaned closer, "and how are you this evening, mrs. huang?" he placed a kiss on your head, repeating, "mrs. huang." a kiss on your cheek. "mrs. huang." kiss on your nose. again, with a kiss just close to your lips this time, teasing you.

"mrs. huang." he leans in and finally places a soft kiss against your lips, savouring the feeling of how soft they are against his.

tags : @injvns @polarisjisung @mejaemin @ayukas @hyckvr @yizhrt @blondemrk 

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

MORE LOVECRAFT!!!JUSTICE TO LOVECRAFT

Please?🥺

Your point is?

Self-Aware! Howard Phillips Lovecraft x GN! Reader

Description: There's a man, standing on your front door. He is acussing you of betraying humanity... You can't understand his point. a.k.a. Guiding Light don't care, that, because of them, a literal Cthulhu appeared in Real World.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Lovecraft is an Eldrich Horror. Short and random.

____

Someone was knocking on the door.

In normal life, knocking isn't something out of the ordinary, unless you are living alone in the middle of nowhere.

The Mansion wasn't in the middle of nowhere, but, it was outside the town (countryside, if you want to call it that), and there weren't any neighbors nearby, that will want to pay a visit. And, as long as Goncharov was aware, no one was waiting for a food delivery today.

An unwelcome guest was knocking on the door. And an unwelcome guest brings unrest. But, self-appointed chamberlain of the manor can't just abandon his duties and ignore the guest. Besides, Alexander, Gide, Mark and John were cleaning up the backyard, and the music they put "for a good working mood" were blasting through speakers, so, it was impossible to pretend, that no one's home and the guest should probably go away.

With a plastic fake smile, Goncharov opened the door.

A man was standing on the porch. About your age, he nervously fiddled with the collar of his jacket. After seeing Ivan, man almost jumped. His eyes widen in shock.

"Oh... I didn't expect to... Can I speak to [Y/N], please?"

Goncharov frowned.

"And who is asking?"

It wasn't the most polite way to address a guest, but right now Ivan didn't care.

The man gulped, he was sweating.

"I am attending the same university as them. There is something important I need to discuss with them."

Ivan raised an eyebrow.

"About what?"

The man... Student gulped.

"About after lectures activities. I can only discuss it with them. Please, can you call them?"

Ivan still wasn't convinced. What with all this secrecy? He was ready to send unwanted guest away, when Alexander, Gide, Mark and John suddenly appeared from around the corner.

Pushkin huffed.

"Hey, Vanya, are you slacking off? What happened with perfect chamberlain?"

Ivan, forgetting about the guest for a second, turned towards Alexander, hissing.

"I am doing my job! And my duties are telling me to send this one away!"

The guest whimpered.

"Please, I just want to speak with [Y/N]!"

Ivan was ready to send him off, when he heard another voice. This one was coming from the manor, right behind his back.

"Who is calling me?" You stepped next to Ivan, looking at him. He pointed at the guest.

"Him, Dear Teaberry."

You looked at the guest. Your face became blank.

"Oh, it's you. Need something?"

The man gasped for air. With trembling finger he pointed at you.

"JACUZZI!"

The small company became quiet. All of you started at the man with confused expressions. Meanwhile, man repeated himself.

"JACUZZI! You are a traitor to humanity!"

Confusion didn't disappear, until Gide slowly asked.

"Do you mean 'J'accuse'¹?"

The guest glared at Gide and pointed at you again.

"Doesn't matter. They betrayed their own kind!"

The guest's screaming attracted the attention of the rest of the BSD Cast, who now were gathering behind you in the lobby.

"Really?! Best Assistant, why you didn't mention that? Maybe, we could help!"

You gave the guest a side eye, before turning towards Ranpo's direction.

"You could help. Can you, please, fetch Howard?"

You looked back at the guest.

"And back to you, Castro²..."

You cleared your throat and pointed at him.

"C’est l’hôpital qui se moque de la charité³!"

Everyone became silent (and no one noticed proud looks on André, Paul and Arthur faces). You continued.

"Calling me a traitor? And who tried to sacrifice me to a Cthulhu? You and your friends!"

"THEY DID WHAT?!"

You and Castro almost fell on the ground because of the sound wave.

You shrugged.

"Well..."

_____

You were bored. You were here for three hours already, tied up, listening to a bad chanting in R'lyehian. That cult (just a bunch of students from your university) were trying to summon... anyone from The Great Ones. Right now, they were trying to summon Cthulhu.

You yawned.

With a loud noise, a familiar tall man, with tentacles instead of arms, appeared in the middle of the room.

Howard looked around. His gaze stopped on you.

"Ahf'?"⁴

________

Castro stepped back.

"We... We didn't thought that Cthulhu will really appear! Besides, you are the one, who called it "old octopus" and promised it an ice cream!"

"[Y/N], we are out of ice cream."

Lovecraft appeared right behind you. Castro let out a scream.

"Cthulhu!"

Howard didn't look at him, instead choosing to poke your head.

"[Y/N], can we get more ice cream?"

You looked up.

"We will get ice cream after I deal with this little cultist. So, Castro, what's your point? Why you decided to go all the way here to accuse me of something ridiculous?"

Castro finally found his voice.

"You are friends with The Great Ones! You brought one to our world! We all doomed!"

Lovecraft slowly blinked.

"Aren't you the one, who kidnapped My Dear Treasure? And aren't you the one, who summoned me?"

You nodded.

"Mhm, it was him. And by the way, Castro, once again, what exactly is your problem? I am not planning to destroy humanity."

Castro looked like a kicked puppy.

"But, Cthulhu..."

You shrugged.

"Howard is harmless... Hey!"

Lovecraft, who was tired of waiting, suddenly pick you up. With his tentacles. Not paying attention to anyone else, he starts walking.

"Y' ulnah bthnkornah. C' bug ng get bthnkornah."⁵

Lovecraft didn't t care about the rest of BSD Cast, or scared Castro. You just go limp in his hold. In five minutes he will let you go, so that little secret will stay a secret.

"We won't be gone for long! Take care, everyone!"

You two quickly disappeared.

Castro nervously gulped. He was ready to go away, when someone grabbed his shoulder.

"So, care to tell us about the kidnapping thing, dear guest?"

Ivan's smile didn't promise anything good to Castro.

For the dozen time today, Castro gulped.

If only he slept until tomorrow and skipped today.

_____

¹I accuse (French)

²Character from H.P. Lovecraft works. Member of Cthulhu Cult.

³ French version of a saying "Pot call the kettle black".

⁴ What? (R'lyehian)

⁵I demand food! We go and get food. (R'lyehian)

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.212 Tropical storm Chi Chi

Despite the joy I felt from Maira's news, I still felt...off. My emotions were all over the place, and I kinda wanted to be alone to sort myself out. I'd usually go for a jog or something, but I didn't want to leave the comfort and safety of my home. So, as much as I could, I stayed away from my girls. Luckily, Desiree was more interested in her Winterfest gifts, and Sophia had chores to do. I thought I'd grab some food and eat in the living room because it's quiet in there, but no sooner than I sat down, someone knocked at the front door. I groaned at the loss of my me time and for my nerves; it was Chi Chi. She came in, yammering on about her grandson, Titus, and how cute he is, and how big he's getting, and how much she loves him, and how her daughter is pregnant again, and how she hopes she and the boyfriend plan to get married. I had eaten several bites of my pineapple fried rice before she really noticed me.

"You're looking mighty relaxed and happy, mister! Sophia gave you some extra Winterfest loving?"

"Ha. Something like that. You look rather refreshed yourself. We just got back from Mt. Komorebi."

"Oh, that's old news. I let this fancy business guy try to impress me with a weekend Sulani trip a few weeks ago. I knew it wasn't going to work, but I appreciate the tan, ha ha!"

Sophia came downstairs, and Chi Chi hopped on her like flies on dog poop. I don't recommend anyone getting caught in Chi Chi's tsunami of words, but I was glad to get her attention off me. I tried to ignore them and go back to my space, but I couldn't help but eavesdrop. After all, they were just a few feet from me, and Chi Chi was way too eager to discuss this alleged glow I have about me. Hearing my wife and my friend gush about good I put it down was not the way I saw my evening going, but at least they weren't talking about the fire. I know if it came up, she'd slip into supportive friend mode quick and smooth like a ninja. Caring and making you feel seen is one of her best traits, but that's just not what I want right now.

They talked and giggled some more, and I finished my dinner. At some point, though, I heard little feet overhead stepping toward the stairs. I should have known an unfamiliar voice would draw Desi away from her play time. Sure enough, she traipsed downstairs, and Chi Chi could not contain herself.

"OH my word!! Look at how big you are! You are just the cutest thing!! She looks so much like both of you!! And those eyes! Hello, gorgeous! Oh, she's gonna be so much trouble when she's a teenager!"

Desi stared at her, half smiling and kinda dazed. I snickered because I knew that exact feeling.

"Mommy," she whispered, "who's this?"

Sophia and Chi Chi laughed.

"You don't have to be afraid of little ol' me! I'm Chi Chi! I met you when you were just a cute little thing!"

"Chi Chi is a friend of ours," Sophia said.

I'm sure we all breathed a sigh of relief when her phone buzzed.

"Oh, I've got to run. Karmi Karms isn't feeling too well; you know how the first trimester is. Why she doesn't ask the boyfriend for help is beyond me. I know a girl needs her mother, but what's the point of having a man in the house if he's useless?! Anyway, happy New Year's Eve, everybody! I'll see you soon!"

And with that, she disappeared as quickly as she arrived. She is something else. With peace restored in our home, heh, and Desi looking to be social, I seized the opportunity I wanted from this morning.

"Hey, Des, you wanna do yoga with me?"

"YEAH!!"

We changed into our workout gear and went outside. It's too bad Sophia isn't into wellness. We could do yoga as a family.

Desi chose a mat, and I took the one in front of her.

"You're good at mimicking the moves, but now you need to understand why you're doing them and how to get the most out of them."

She was so excited; she couldn't stay still.

I got into position for a pose, and she followed.

"This is called the downward dog pose."

Of course, the name made her giggle. I got up to make sure she did it right and to provide more instruction.

"This is one of the most basic poses. Plant your feet flat on the mat and try not to get on your toes. You should feel that stretch going all the way up your leg. Do you feel it?"

"I feel it!"

"Good. You should always plant your feet flat on the mat and dig your toes into it. That'll keep you balanced and give you a strong footing. But also when you do yoga, you want to create resistance to stretch all your muscles, so that's another reason."

I took her through all the basic poses, and then we did them together. It gave me the calm I needed, and barring anything bad happening tomorrow, I'd say the year ended on a good note.

Chi Chi's grandson!

[indigosunsetao3]

I would like to request a comfort story in which either Kyle or Johnny are comforting a Reader who has been slowly enduring an increasingly awkward, hurtful, and one-sided childhood friendship over the past few years. I know these guys would never make Reader feel passed over or unworthy.

(This may or may not be inspired by my current situation with my roommate. I understand now why it is common advice to never move in with a close friend. 🫠)

Oh no! I'm so sorry you're going through this 😔. Living with someone can be so difficult, and things can be even rougher when it's a friend and things start to sour. I promise I value you. I enjoy all our back and forth, and I always look forward to your comments! And you know what? Kyle (and Johnny) for sure would as well. Hope this helps a bit 💙

What are you doing?

You sigh and reach out for your phone sitting on the nightstand and drag it toward you.

What I'm always doing.

You hit send roll back on your back and start mindlessly flipping through your apps. Another night left alone in your room. You thought maybe tonight, just maybe, it would be a little better. You had been so excited to tell your friend about the promotion. Maybe go out to dinner together, window shop, stop at the new smoothie place for dessert. Do the things you used to do when you were younger, and life wasn't as complicated. Or weird.

But again, you were let down.

They barely acknowledged what you had to say, clearly absorbed in whatever was on their phone. Or whoever. And when you paused to see if they had anything at all to say to you, they just delved into their day. Their issues. And their plans that didn't involve you in the least. Except to ask a favor and feed their cat.

Years of being friends, back when you used to gush about your crushes while walking to school, was seemingly wasting away. Moving in together had always been the goal, the dream. Who needed other people when you had one another? Then, when you were old enough and finally found that special person, you'd live next door to one another, your families blending and blissful. Friends until the end.

But it seems you are the only one who has continued that dream. You hold onto it and try to breathe life into it, hoping it was just a weird rough patch in your friendship. But life was taking the two of you to different places. And while growing apart happens, you never expected it from them. Not like this anyway.

Get out of bed and go do something. Like what? I'm tired of going out to eat by myself. Then don't go by yourself. Who am I going to go with? I was asked to feed the cat by my roommate while they went out with their new friends. Again. Me You're...well, wherever you are. Did you want to facetime? I can make some sad macaroni. I'm about ten minutes away from your place so put some clothes on. When did you get home? Nine minutes, you're wasting time and I'm starving. I will drag you to the Thai place in pajamas.

You shoot up out of bed and frantically look at yourself. Kyle knew you too well, even if you hardly ever got to see him these days with his work. He still managed to figure out your habits through texting and facetime, or at least took the time to pay attention.

Grabbing the freshest clothes you can find, you throw them on and make your hair as presentable as possible. You know the Thai place he's talking about, it's just down the street and a little hole in the wall. There's no need to get overly dressed, but you have an extra minute to throw on some moisturizer and wipe away the smeared makeup from the day that you hadn't washed off yet.

And right on time there's a knock on the front door.

Slipping your shoes on, you whip open the door to see Kyle standing there. He's still in the clothes he traveled in based on the crumpled look, and his eyes reflect exhaustion. But the smile he gives you is anything but tired.

"Jacket," Kyle says with a nod toward the rack by the door. "Figured we could walk, and it's a little cold."

"You should have told me you'd be home!" You exclaim as you yank a hoodie off the hook and work on slipping it over your arms. You wrestle with it for a second before Kyle untucks the hood so you can put it on properly.

"It was last minute," he replies as you finally get situated, shutting the door to keep the nosey cat in, then leap onto him for a hug. When he laughs and wraps his arms around you, you sink further into him, savoring the hug you haven't felt in weeks.

"How long are you going to be back for? Was it just you that got leave?" You inquire as he pushes the front glass door of the apartment complex open for you to walk through.

"Not here to talk about me," Kyle answers as he gently maneuvers around you. He walks closest to the street, keeping you between him and the buildings. "Tell me about the promotion and everything else…then we'll get to me."

So you do. You delve into everything, including all the hard work you've put in, the long hours, and all the accolades you've received. He already knows a lot about it, but he still stays engaged while you talk. His eyes remain locked on you while you both eat, and he's always grinning as you babble about things that probably go over his head.

"And why were you hiding alone in your room this evening?" Kyle asks after you wrap up, and he shoos your hand away when the check comes. "If I didn't get in so late, we would have been out on the town. As you should have been."

"You know why," you say with a small sigh as you pick at the last bit of noodles on your plate. "It's like they don't even…care. I'm just there."

"Then you go out without them!" He states as if that were obvious. "You don't need them to have fun. Go find people, there are plenty of people that want your company."

You don't answer, just hum around your fork before setting it down on the plate. You know he's right, but no one talks about how hard it is to make friends as an adult. There isn't the easy sharing toys on the playground option, nor are there school allies when the teacher is being intolerable. And friends at work? Always a risk and never long lasting when one of you inevitably gets a new job.

"You can make more friends," Kyle chastises as he nudges your foot under the table with his. "You won me over," he smirks.

"I love you," you answer with a laugh, "but I do not want to make anymore friends if that is how I have to do it."

Piccadilly had been more than enough for you in this lifetime.

"Well, what do you want to do now? I mean, we can always still go downtown," he looks at his watch before looking at you. "But I have a feeling I already know what you want."

"Movies and ice cream," you state with a nod before linking your arm in his heading out of the restaurant.

Fully expecting the apartment to still be empty, you nudge the door open with your shoulder only to be hit with music and laughter. Lots of laughter. It halts you in your steps, and you look into the living room where your friend is with their friends playing some sort of game on the coffee table.

"Oh," your friend states, standing up suddenly awkward. "I…thought you were in your room." They gesture to the group, "it was my turn to host game night..and I didn't think you'd be interested." They glance at Kyle and you already know what is coming. "Would you like to join?" An invite you weren't afforded and was only being offered now because they were put on the spot.

"No worries," Kyle states with a saccharine smile that does not meet his eyes. “We don't need a pity invite for your…" he gestures vaguely at the group sitting in silence, staring. With that, he takes your hand and guides you back toward the bedroom, careful to shut the door a smidge too loudly.

"Kyle," you hiss as you sit down hard on your bed.

"Nope. You don't get to be upset with me," he states as he shoves your ice cream at you with the plastic spoon. "You get to be upset with them. It's time you figure out that being second or last choice is not an option."

He takes a seat next to you on the bed and wrestles the wrapper off his spoon before tossing it in the trash and looks at you expectantly.

"We've been friends since we were kids," you start as you look at him, the ice cream freezing your hands.

"That," he points with his spoon, "is not a friend. They thought you were here and didn't even bother to ask? They don't ask about you or how you are doing; it's always about them." He takes another bite of his ice cream to let you process. "I'm not saying I need to be your new best friend…but you need to find another one because that is not it."

You sigh and finally take a bite of your dessert, though it doesn't taste nearly as good as you had hoped. Disappointing truth has that unfortunate side effect.

"I know you're right, it's just…hard," you reason with a small shrug. "It's like a breakup. No one talks about how breaking up with a friend works."

"You don't have to return their things in a box and pour sugar in their petrol tank," Kyle jokes, "I may have had a pissed ex or two in the past." He tacks on at the look you cut him. "Just…start giving that distance back. Don't be there at their beck and call, don't show up for them when they can't even bother to check if you're even home."

"I know," you huff before stabbing your ice cream with the spoon and adjusting on the bed. "Speaking of showing up," you raise an eyebrow, "How long is your leave?"

"I have to catch a plane back at ten tomorrow," Kyle answers nonchalantly with a small shrug as your eyes widen. "Quick turn around."

"Kyle! You're going to be travelling longer than you were even here!" You exclaim. "And you look exhausted as it is! You need to go to sleep. Forget the movie." You move to rise from the bed, but he holds a hand up.

"Friends show up for friends," he states as if it were as simple as that. "Pick a movie. I can't guarantee I'll make it to the end awake, but I'll do my best."

You hesitate as you watch him, but he simply inches back on your bed and settles on the pillows, staring at your television, waiting. Knowing you aren't going to win the argument, you grab the remote and decide on a cheesy action movie.

As you both sit there laughing at the absurdity of the action, Kyle picking apart everything that is not realistic, you realize something. That while Kyle said he doesn't need to be your new best friend, you are fairly certain he's stolen that spot without even trying.

[amethystjewel01]

Yuuna Union Jacket Birthday!

Yet another birthday in a different world, how exciting!

Voice Lines

Summon Line: Hehe! This one is gonna be so fun! Especially since I’ve gotten even closer to everyone!

Groovy!: Aw man! It got in my hair! Hey, don't laugh!!

Home: Yo, this jacket is really comfy. Think they would let me wear it for more than a day?

Home Idle 1: Yuuto somehow got me a really nice box to hold my earrings in! I wonder where he gets all that money?

Home Idle 2: While I’m glad everyone is so kind to give me stuff, the amount can be overwhelming. Makes me worried if I can bring it all back home…

Home Idle 3: I kind of feel bad that Yuuto and Yuuki did all the decorating, though it was mainly Yuuto with his magic…still I could've helped!

Home Idle [Login]: Hey hey hey! Come join the celebration! Ya I know it’s for me but I want everyone to have fun!

Home Idle [Groovy]: Ace is so mean~ He did not have to grab me like that and shove the tin in my face! 

Home Tap 1: Yuuki kept trying to keep Grim at bay with all the whip cream flying around, I guess she’s worried he might be lactose intolerant like a normal cat. It was funny to see though!

Home Tap 2: Professor Crewel surprisingly gave me some clothes he designed himself. Said something about how my typical hair color combo inspired him for a short period?? I don't know honestly, though they are super cute!

Home Tap 3: Hopefully the cleanup will be easy..hm? Yeah of course I’m gonna help, I am the dorm leader. Being the birthday boy be damn!

Home Tap 4: The light music club gifted me a karaoke machine, guess I was singing more often in public than I thought…that’s embarrassing.

Home Tap 5: Mmm…oh! Yeah I’m okay! Just disassociating a bit. The noise is just a little bit overwhelming, no one’s fault!

Home Tap [Groovy]: Ugh, the cream got everywhere. *lick* Mmm! Still tastes good though!

Duo: 

Yuuna: Look who decided to join!

Ace: Oi! Just because you're the birthday girl doesn’t mean I’ll let you go easy!

Personal Story

Part 1

(Ramshackle Dorm - Birthday Party Venue)

Yuuna: Oh I hope the dice chose someone I'm close with. I'm not good with people I don't know…

???: Boo!

Yuuna: AHH!

Smack!

Ace: Ow! You didn't have to hit me!

Yuuna: Ace you!! Don't scare me! You almost gave me a heart attack!

Ace: Yeesh, sorry. All three of you can't take a small scare.

(Yuuna glares at Ace silently.)

Ace: Anyway-

Ace: Here's the gift I got you!

Yuuna: Oh! You really didn't have to!

Ace: Nah, I wanted to. Besides if I didn't I'm sure the gang would get on my ass.

Ace: But either way, open it already!

Yuuna: Okay okay! Let's see…eh? Is…Is this-

Ace: It's a new binder, yeah.

(Ace looks away awkwardly.)

Ace: You kept complaining about how you only had one since coming to this world so…me and some others came together to get you another one.

Ace: But I gotta ask why the hell are they so expensive?!

Yuuna: Haha! Thank you thank you!! 

(Yuuna hugs Ace tightly.)

Yuuna: This one looks so comfortable too! And it has a zipper! My old one doesn't! This one will be so much easier to put on too!

Ace: Great, it was really awkward when trying to ask others what was best…

Part 2

(Ramshackle Dorm - Birthday Party Venue)

Ace: Alright! Let's move on to the interview!

Ace: If you could choose anyone in NRC as a sibling, who?

Yuuna: Well Yu-

Ace: Ah no! You can't pick someone from your dorm!

Yuuna: Boo~

Yuuna: Okay uh…I guess I would pick you?

Ace: …huh?

Yuuna: I mean you act the most like my older brother actually so it wouldn't be too different for me

Ace: Pick someone else then?! It's for you to choose who you want, not choose who's the most like your actual siblings!

Yuuna: Geez okay! Then…Ortho, definitely Ortho.

Ace: You know that's the least surprising pick, you already treat him like a sibling.

Yuuna: How could I not?! He's adorable! It makes me want to spoil him a lot!

Ace: Would he even get along with your other siblings?

Yuuna: Duh! The little one would have lots of fun with him! Though the possible chaos worries me.

Ace: What, you think they would cause a lot of destruction?

Yuuna: Oh, I know they would.

Part 3

(Ramshackle Dorm - Birthday Party Venue)

Ace: Next question!

Ace: What dorm would you transfer to? Actually do I need to ask? Of course you would pick Heartslabyul!

Yuuna: …now I wanna pick Pomefiore to spite you.

Ace: Aw come on! Don't lie, almost everyone can tell how you love our aesthetic!

Yuuna: *Sigh* Okay fine, yes it would be Hearts.

Yuuna: But Pome is a close second solely for the fact that the rules part of your dorm is overwhelming.

Ace: Fair, they’re really annoying. Ah-Don’t tell Riddle I said that.

Yuuna: Heh, my lips are sealed.

Yuuna: But yeah. As much as I like following the rules, I have my own limits. I mean in my own opinion rules are mainly meant to help people, not restrict them.

Ace: Is that why Pomefiore would be your second choice?

Yuuna: Sort of? It’s mainly because I’ve been told I fit in there a lot.

Ace: Who said that?

Yuuna: Just a bunch of randos, actually before they realize I’m the Ramshackle dorm leader many assumed I was a Pome member. I don’t get it honestly, I’m not like pretty like them??

Ace: Uh…

Yuuna: Sorry, was getting too honest there! Haha!

Ace: Well…that’s all the questions.

Yuuna: Oh-...oh no

Ace: Can't forget the best part~

Yuuna: C-Can't we just skip this? I-I JUST DID MY HAIR!

(Yuuna runs away.)

Ace: HEY GET BACK HERE!!

(The sound of something being thrown is heard.)

The End

[ace-dodo]

Dragonspine I hate you with all my soul

[circus-k]

i think i have to kill someone.

[thedreadvampy]

guess who's in 🎶troooouble🎶

New Boss does not appreciate my Vile Insubordination (giving an informed opinion in an email chain where she said some factually incorrect things and got called out on it - I said hey yep you're right that what she said isn't true but here's why it's still important to listen to our team)

and now we have to have a Quick Chattette about my Behaviour and Unsatisfactory Response (didn't apologise for being correct)

[unproduciblesmackdown]

truly something that, amidst facing / going through a dramatic Life Change ft. unavoidable emotional effects of that, there are instances where i can't conceal any & all degrees of being distressed / upset, & repeatedly getting "it's hard for me too" as a Direct Response to that: really something & a half how the asserted theoretical Sympathy of [i feel similarly!] is invoked so as to, oh you know, preclude sympathetic Treatment. such as that what would be More sympathetic in these instances would be to say Nothing, "if there's nothing but dismissal / making it first & foremost about someone else's feelings to say, don't say it at all" style

[hauntingblue]

Kaido lore?!

[beemovieerotica]

I feel like I would have been diagnosed with OCD a lot earlier if the vast majority of screening questions (for mental illnesses in general) weren't based on the person's perception of their own behavior, in isolation. and what i mean by that is asking someone with OCD "do you wash your hands excessively?" is not a good question.

a person with OCD believes they are washing their hands the correct number of times. it's not excessive. we believe we're exhibiting best practices and helping to keep everything clean.

better questions might be, "does it seem like you wash your hands a lot more than your friends or family?" "do you get dry patches or cuts on your hands from washing your hands?" "do you find it deeply distressing, more so than how you've seen other people react, when you get something on your hands that you can't clean off right away?"

being asked "are you overly preoccupied with bugs, symmetry, and contamination?" also got "no" responses from me years ago in my life. what they didn't ask for, and didn't know, was what *exactly* I was doing in my day to day life that genuinely ate up my time and mental space to a concerning degree, but I *didn't know* that other people don't do this.

"do you spend a lot of time cleaning?" -> no, it's not a lot. it's a good amount. why?

"do you become frustrated because it seems like no one else meets your organizational and cleanliness standards - do you often 'take over' for other people because they can't do it right - do new friends seem surprised by how strict you can be about your living space?" -> oh. yeah. yeah I get it now.