#( the one piece muses are really strong )

[aparticularbandit]

Also like - to talk about the brilliance of Jac's writing here.

Jac knew we, the viewers, who found casting calls and are up on our Marvel lore, would know Teen was Billy. Like - it was brought up in interviews, and they avoided it, but we KNEW he was Billy. We knew!

So Jac had the mammoth task of telling a story where she could Red Herring Teen into potentially being someone else enough that even though we knew he was Billy, we might also think he was Nicholas.

I've mentioned this before as masterful storytelling and interacting with fan expectations.

But Jac goes a step farther by having our main character, Agatha herself, going through this same problem. She doesn't know he's Billy, but she knows he can't be Nicholas, he can't be her son. But there's enough there for her to hope that he might be hers, only to be hit firmly with what she already knew.

Jac isn't just playing with fan expectations. She's using them to take fans on the same exact journey that Agatha herself is on.

And that is fantastic.

[relicsongmel]

New Leaf 11 PM is the ONLY piece of music in existence that's allowed to conflict with my synesthesia

[melpcmene-arch]

smash or pass: kaen. for vash, sanji, and uh... throw in a surprise third just to round it out and make an even trifecta for me, pretty please uvu

Send Smash or Pass + a name and my muse will say if they would smash or pass on that person. ( accepting. )

❝ Well. It'll be rude to say pass, because I think I'mma smash. ❞

❝ I'd pass for now. Nothing against you or anythin'. I'd like to get to know you more first. Perhaps over a candlelit dinner. Personally crafted by me. ❞

❝ Hm. I could probably go with smash. If you don't mind a few extra hands. ❞

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: billy butcher, hughie campbell, frenchie, mothers milk, kimiko, and soldier boy

↳ warnings: canon type violence and happenstances. hinted to take place during season three at some points.

↳ notes: sorry butcher is in here so much. he's the kind of guy that can't shut the fuck up, so i feel like he's always getting in everyone business no matter what

↳ song: rock me like a hurricane—scorpions

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

• He has mixed feelings about you

• On one hand, you’re a great team player. Always making sure the job gets done, willing to put yourself on the line for the team, one of the most willing to kill a supe in a snap—second only to him—and always managing to make shit up on the fly whenever something inevitably goes wrong on a mission. Butcher has seen you fend off an entire team of armed Vought men before with nothing but a well timed lie and piece of pipe. That’s not something to scoff at, even if he does anyways

• But on the other hand, he has a feeling that you were just as much as an annoying shit as he acted sometimes

• “Sorry to say this guys—“ You said one night through the food in your mouth as Chinese takeout sat on a dirty table in front of you, curtesy of M.M and his pocketbook, “—but I think I’d betray you all for a fortune cookie. I’d betray my country for a fortune cookie.”

• "You say that like we ain’t already betrayin’ the cunts, sunshine.” Butcher eyed you from across the room as you nicked Frenchies own cookie from him while he was staring off at Kimiko for the tenth time that night

• “Too right, Butch.” You grinned like a shark at your idiotic nickname for him, and he ignored you as you did so; like he always did

• He definitely appreciates your enthusiasm behind his plans. Unlike Hughie or M.M, who despite working in the business of taking down supes seem to be hesitant about doing too much shit, you don’t seem to have a very strong moral code. That’s not necessarily a good thing in anyone’s eyes except for Butcher’s, who knows that he can always count on you to have his back in whatever situation he manages to squeeze himself into

• “Thanks for comin’.” He grunted at you while vomiting into a toilet, green bile spewing from his mouth. Butcher’s eyes burned with the urge to let out a laser beam, and he did so for a moment, splitting the porcelain throne we was leaning over in two

• “Want me to hold your hair back for you, honey?” You didn’t even miss a beat to start making fun of his situation, which made Butcher growl at you even from his current position. Despite your sarcastic demeanor in the moment, and the way he had just scorched an unexpected hole through the shitty bathroom, Butcher knew you’d help, no questions asked. And that’s exactly what you did, grabbing whatever he asked you to as he gave you a run down on the latest solo mission he had been attempting to get by with on his own

• “Jesus, poor Gunpowder huh?” You mused as you crossed your arms and leaned on the sink above him. For a moment Butcher thought you were granting the dead supe a bit of sympathy before he saw the glint in your eyes. “If the last thing I saw before I kicked it was your mug, I’d probably wanna get it over with yeah?”

• “Do me a favor. Go grab the toaster in the other room an’ take a nice bath with it, would ya?”

• “You first, Butcher.”

𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥

• The two of you are like peas in a pod. Two very weird, very cautious peas in a pod

• Even if Butcher is beside himself with annoyance at having another, as he put it, “soft cunt with a morality complex,” join the team, Hughie couldn’t be happier that someone seems to share his values on supes, on Vought; on the world, really

• In the first season or so, the two of you would probably spend a lot of time in between working with everyone else in the field to come up with a way to take Vought down the right way. Eventually,as we all know, that later falls apart, but it exhilarates Hughie to know that there’s people out there like him that want to try and put in the effort for things like that

• “Yeah, so if we can get one more witness about the Termite incident to come forward and testify—“ You bit your pen between your teeth and nodded as Hughie waved his hands over a stack of papers and talked at a million miles an hour, somehow understanding each and every word.

• “—then we could finally take a supe down legally. And that would make way for a whole round of others; Hughie you’re a genius.” You finished his sentence for him, slapping a hand down on the table with a grin as Hughie smiled. Somewhere in the distance someone snorted wryly, no doubt having heard the entire conversation. You had no doubt it was Butcher, but that didn’t matter to the either of you with how happy you were at the revelation. No matter how temporary it would turn out to be

• Hughie finds himself trusting you quite a bit. He can get attached pretty easily, so he finds himself willing to do anything to back you up—within reason of course. He still has some semblance of sanity left

• Listens to Billy Joel with you! Doesn’t matter if you all are coming back from a mission covered in blood—once it was whale guts—he will stick one earbud in and leave the other out for you as he presses play on a mix. More than once the others have found both of you passed out and snoring as the faint sound of Billy Joel plays through the headphones

• “Think we should wake them up, mon amie?” Frenchie tilts his head as he looks down on the both of you. Hughie chest rises and falls with a softness he couldn’t afford on the regular. You were positioned far away from him to have your back to him, somehow keeping your end of the earbud in as you drooled

• “Nah, let em sleep. God knows they need it.” M.M shook his head with crossed arms, the sight reminding him of better times

• “Oi! Stop ogling at the knackered sods and come help me with this, would ya?”

• “Fuck you, Butcher.” M.M said with a sigh, leaving the room to go and help anyway

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞

• He fucks with you so hard

• I mean, come on, someone that’s as excited about making bombs as he is? Someone that is willing to understand French? To shit talk everyone else to their face—especially Butcher?? He might have to marry you on the spot

• Please learn French. He will literally beg you to start. Conjugates, vocabulary, even a simple ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. Anything at all. Will absolutely not judge you for your horrific accent or pronunciation if you have any

• Bomb lessons on the side, too. If you already know the basics, or are a pro, it’ll be a lot more breezy, but he’s willing to start from scratch. It’ll be nice to have a partner to help him with his creations on the team for once, and even better since he likes you

• The two of you, and Kimiko obviously, are practically joined at the hip. What I said about the shit talking earlier was real, too. All of you use different languages or sign to voice whatever you’re thinking. It’s nice to be able to speak your mind freely, and there’s the added bonus of not having M.M give you that sharp look of his, or Butcher calling you names. Anymore than usual, that is

• “What do you reckon the three of ‘em are always on about?” Butcher took a swig from his drink. He was sitting next to Hughie with a beer on one of their down days as the younger man typed away on a computer. He was watching you Frenchie and Kimiko from across the room as you all signed at each other with giant smiles on your face. Frenchie would speak occasionally, but all that came out was his mother tongue, and your face would pause for a moment as you let your brain process what he was saying. Then all of you would break out into another round of grins, something that Butcher had to deadpan at

• “Probably planning a coup.” Hughie answered Butcher without even looking up from his screen. He knew who he was talking about anyways. It wasn’t hard to guess thanks, to the occasional loud exclamation from Frenchie as you signed something particularly risqué or funny

• Butcher flitted his eyes away in annoyance from you all after he recognized the word ‘cunt’ in the passing conversation, along with a sign that was clearly supposed to represent him

• “I think at this poin’ I’d prefer tha’.” He grumbled into his cup, and all of you laughed

• “Cheer up, Butcher. At least Frenchie isn’t teaching them how to make homemade cherry bombs again.”

• “Shut up.”

𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤

• Finally. Someone other than him can be the voice of reason in the group

• It’s tiring being the one to hold everyone together all of the time. It might help if Butcher wasn’t so much of an ass, or if Hughie didn’t feel the need to derail every plan with thoughts of his own, but M.M knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. So he’d take any help he could get with reigning everyone in

• Definitely bonds with you over your shared habit of wearing band t-shirts to meetups or hideouts. I’d like to imagine that at one point the both of you show up wearing the exact same one, and it goes exactly how one would expect

• “Same shirt.” M.M notices one morning, pointing at your torso with the initials N.W.A written over it. He’s smiling, and so are you as what he’s wearing in turn dawns on you

• “Same shirt!! Hell yeah.”

• Fist bumps. Fist bumps galore, man. The two of you fist bump a lot. To punctuate sentences, drive a point home, agree on stuff—anything. It’s your own way of communicating with each other without having to bat an eye

• It’ll take M.M a while, but eventually he’ll start to really open up about missing his family to you. Beyond just showing you pictures of his daughter at soccer practice, I mean. If he trusts you enough to have his back in a shoot out, then he trusts you with this

• At one point, it goes farther than his (regrettably ex) wife and daughter, and eventually branches out into what he’s willing to tell about his dad and brothers. You feel like you know all of them by the time he’s done, and that only makes the typewriter story hit harder when he finally decides to reveal it

• Let’s just say you were pretty willing to jump Soldier Boy on M.M’s half the first time you were left in a room with them

• “Just one swing I swear—“

• “He will literally beat you into a pulp.” M.M deadpanned, doing his best to avoid looking at the other imposing figure in the room as he clasped two hands on either of your shoulders

• “Listen to your friend, sweetheart. Would hate to have to scrub my hands clean of any of your blood. Getting under the fingernails is always hard.”

• “See what I mean, just one punch that’s all—“

• “No.”

𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐨

• It’s honestly great for her to be able to hang around someone that feels the same way that she does. Maybe it’s how silent you are that really draws her attention at first, but Kimiko really grows to appreciate you as a member of the team

• Probably gets a lot of joy from having a friend like you. She constantly asks to do things like have you watch movies with her or to do ‘sleepovers,’ which are really just the two of you crashing on the main room couch together

• She never got a chance at a normal childhood or friends, so you and Frenchie are the closest she gets to a peace of mind

• Not even a question about it, she’s making you learn her sign language

• Will stare at you for days on end, saying nothing but everything at the same time until you agree to learn. Once you do, it’s all over. She gets the biggest most happiest look anyone ever seen, and there’s no turning back from that

• “Kimiko, what are you doing. It’s two in the morning.” You groan at her from under the thin covers of your bed, doing your best to ignore her hands as they fly about. It’s the childish equivalent of ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’

• ‘No time to sleep. We have to go over stuff before the mission tomorrow. It will help us communicate.’ She was unnerved by your lack of enthusiasm. If anything it only spurred her on more, shaking your bed and pulling at your covers as you groaned. Even with the progress you had been making with signing over the past few weeks, your knowledge was still a bit shaky, and being half asleep didn’t help, so you only caught a few words. Enough to know what she wanted, however

• “Go away, Kimiko.” You whined. The shaking stopped, and for a moment you thought your request had worked. You were more than happy to fall back into whatever dream you had been having beforehand

• Then you heard the rushing of feet and a large weight slammed onto your legs

• “Goddamnit!—“

• Frenchie found the both of you the next morning; Kimiko looking bright eyed and bushy-tailed while you were practically falling asleep from where you sat. It was a teasing point for you over the next two weeks

• Between you, there’s moments like that where, despite Kimiko’s silence and your habit to keep your thoughts to yourself, nothing ever goes unseen or unsaid. The two of you know each other like the back of your hands, and sometimes you wonder if you’d even need her sign to communicate

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲

• If the saying ‘this town ain't big enough for the both of us’ could apply here, it absolutely would

• It’s almost ironic how bad Soldier Boy handles another version of himself. You’ve got just as much snark and anger as him, and it pisses him the hell off. Constantly.

• Maybe it’s because you didn’t fan boy over him as soon as he flashed a few cheesy lines that keeps his disdain for you boiling, or that you didn’t keep your distance when he threatened to eradicate your entire bloodline if you didn’t stop running your mouth at him

• “Need help with that?” He cocks a brow at you one day, watching with poorly hidden annoyance as you struggle to tie a knot in your shoes for the fifth time in a minute. The offer isn’t serious, and even if it was, he has no doubt you wouldn’t hesitate to kick him in the face if he bent down to tie your shoe for you

• “Need help taking my dick down your throat?” You parroted back at him while raising your voice in a false-happy tone. Finally you get the shoestrings to cooperate, completely missing the way Soldier Boy glows in a harsh warning at your attitude

• “Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty.” Butcher calls from the room over, no doubt tired of the bickering between the two of you that had been nonstop for the past few days. “Let’s get a move on before one of you decides to claw the others bloody eyes out, yeah?”

• The fact that you’re not even a supe just ticks him off more. Only a few people have ever pushed his buttons like this, most of them being supes, and they always ended up being nothing but red paste in the next few minutes

• You make sure to point it out to him several times that you’re just acting like he always does, making sure to don a shit eating grin when he clenches his fist at your comment

• Please for the love of everything that’s holy tone it the fuck down. Some people may say that Soldier Boy has no self-control, but it sure is taking a whole lot of it not to kick you in the crotch as hard as possible

• “The feelings mutual.” You deadpan at him when he eventually shares that fantasy out loud. He knew full well that if you even so much as tried that, you’d end up with a broken ankle and your front pinned to the closest brick wall, but he had no doubts that you would go for it anyway

• Seriously. How has he not murdered you in your sleep yet

[pennyblossom-meta]

Analysis of the romance in Death Note's Spiraling Trap game.

EDIT 02/03/2024: minor edits and fixes, added a few imgs and extra content.

A huge thank you to the folks over at agtteam who translated L - the ProLogue to Death Note: Spiraling Trap into English! Now we can all date L become FBI agents after hours.

I've been playing the game recently and one of the features I love the most is the L Communicator, which allows the main character (referred to as MC henceforth) to take a break from adventuring and listen to L talk about whatever is on his mind.

There's around one hundred different lines available as the MC develops a relationship with L and they paint him as such a sweet, attentive and thoroughly unique individual that I was surprised by how detailed it was. If you're thinking about playing, then this part is definitely worth putting effort into.

The mechanics of the dating sim are relatively simple: during the adventure, you'll pick up a number of recipes hidden among traps and tools. Then, Watari will provide the ingredients and you can give L whatever sweets he specifically craves. These recipes and cravings depend on the time of day and can be season specific.

Character analysis

As stated in-game, giving L sweets causes his appreciation for the MC to grow. However, L being L, means that he craves different sweets throughout the day. He's definitely very specific about what he likes and what he wants for his sugar fix.

However, if you give L something he isn't craving at that specific moment, he will sulk. The way he expresses his displeasure varies according to the depth of the budding relationship he has with the MC.

L: To tell you the truth, there are many other things I would have preferred. L: [F/N], I hate to say this, but I really would have preferred something else. L: F/N], you must know that I was hoping for something else, right? L: [F/N]… It’s not my favorite but, it made me really happy.

Note: Given that the books in the expanded universe (Another Note and L: Change the WorLd) came out before this game, I think some of the quotes further ahead might be a subtle nod to how L is perceived by the police forces as the "creepy murder detective". However, references about his piece of mind lead me to believe that L craves some respite from the burdens he carries on his shoulders — burdens so strong that they managed to curve his spine.

Note: I'm unsure how the system here works, as the MC also gets points for gaining L's trust in the actual adventure when they a) agree with his observations and b) find key objects hidden in unsuspecting places. It might affect the available lines through the L Communicator.

L: Today is going to be a better day… Let’s think positive. L: I wonder what kind of morning this will be. L: It seems the air outside is crisp this morning.

L: I want to finish what I need to get done before night falls. L: It’s nearly sunset. Time for children to go back home. L: If you just stare into space, night will be here before you know it.

L: It’s already evening… Time keeps passing me by. L: There’s something different about the air at night. L: Night-time, dusk… It’s the witching hour.

As a naturally introspective individual, L observes the world around him and draws conclusions. To my surprise, the game actually managed to capture how observant L is about small, unsuspecting details of daily life and give him a slightly poetic side laced with a hint of wistfulness that suits his character well.

This is a side of L in his private life that I personally wish we had been able to glimpse during the Kira investigation. Though, at the time, L was busy trying to prove that Light was, indeed, Kira. It left him little to no time to enjoy the world around him. During the brief time that L could have had a semblance of rest right before the Yotsuba arc, he was depressed that his deductions were "wrong" — though I could see him musing about some of the above, equal parts whimsy and sulking.

L: If I start to lose my touch… I guess I’ll retire. L: Another day, another mystery… L: I have a lot of thinking to do. L: I feel like doing some capoeira… L: I haven't played tennis for a while. L: The weather today is… Well, it matters not. L: I, um… No, ignore me. L: Am I reading too much into it…?

As a thinker, L has a lot of unfinished thoughts he says out loud. Some border on cliché, others are musings about things he'd like to do or that he's missing.

I wonder if some of his thoughts end up trailing off because, suddenly, he catches himself and believes they're not important? Or that he doesn't think the MC would be interested in what he has to say beyond work matters?

L: “In spring one sleeps a sleep that knows no dawn.” Though, too much sleep isn’t good for anyone. L: If you think about things persistently, noticing all the sides to them will come naturally. L: Strawberries… Despite the name, they aren’t actually berries. How berry disappointing. L: The one who has thought it through wins. It’s true for chess, and for deduction. But in the case of love… I don't know.

He's also a philosopher at heart, always thinking about the human condition. In these we can also witness his dry humour, silly puns along with a subtle desire to share his thoughts on the world and give helpful advice.

As for love, L is cautious but willing to learn. It's a topic where he's out of his depth.

L: Um, Watari is… L: I wonder if Watari’s asleep? L: What could Watari be up to? L: Today is Thanksgiving Day. I am truly grateful to Watari for his diligence.

I found it interesting how L's thoughts eventually go back to Watari and what he's doing. He's the one person that L relies on and whom he interacts with the most. Other people are passing acquaintances at best, who show little interest in L beyond work.

Notice how he mentions diligence? Although it is a utilitarian consideration, it also reveals a thankfulness for the comforts of familiarity and the peace of mind that trusting someone close brings. This is a topic we'll explore better at a later stage, i.e., how trust and acts of service work as a relationship builder.

Romance

Neutral stage

One of the first things I've noticed is that, during the early stages of the relationship, L is still very formal and quite a bit dismissive — even borderline rude. As his sugar fix gets sated by the MC's keen suggestions (Watari provides the ingredients, of course), L grows gradually more fond of them and wants to include the MC in his life with an enthusiasm I can only define as endearing.

L: Aren’t you bored? You don’t have to check in on me. L: Don’t you have stuff to do?

At the beginning, L is still wary of the MC on a personal level as they have absolutely no rapport beyond a partnership of circumstance and usefulness in the name of justice. He's quick to get bored and doesn't take it very well when he's given sweets he isn't craving. A bit childish, one could say, the way he sulks when the MC errs by not reading his mind.

L: Did I enjoy it? Let me just say “no comment”. (about sweets that weren't quite to his taste)

It's also very in-character for L to feel both annoyed at someone who is randomly calling him and be suspicious of their motives.

Growing interest

L: Spending the afternoon with you isn’t so bad. L: Even though it’s late, you’re not going to bed, huh? L: You must be a night owl, [F/N]. L: I’m a little curious about you, [F/N]. L: Are you having a good time? I’m just curious. L: You’re kind of… Ah, no, forget I said anything.

He starts addressing the MC by their first name as he becomes more enamoured. It's very sweet. I was pleasantly surprised at how attentive L becomes as he gradually comes to the conclusion that this is a person who understands him.

Mind, due to game mechanics the MC gains approval by giving L sweets, but from a narrative perspective what's really happening is that L not only feels seen and understood, but also accepted. And when that happens, he starts lowering his walls and relaxing.

As a plot device, I would say these are defining moments within L's thought process here; he's curious about the MC, finds them interesting enough to want to know more them and pursues that curiosity to see what they might have in common. It seems he's both a little baffled and content about this development.

L: [F/N], what do you think of when you see a sunset? L: What are you doing this afternoon? Oh, should I not have asked? L: Are you a night owl? Oh, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want.

It should also be noted that L is very mindful of boundaries. There's a tentative, almost shy attempt to connect. He's determined to indulge in his curiosity since the MC's attentiveness towards him shows an opening for closeness he's unused to (but is happy about) and to tend to his more immediate needs (i.e., food cravings), which in turn shows a genuine concern for him. Aside from Watari, I doubt anyone ever extended L similar kindness.

And it is in this determination to get to know the MC that I also find Mello's words (AA: LABB Murder Cases) that L is actually a very active, aggressive individual with absolutely no interest in social conventions perfectly represent him this game, as he navigates a growing fondness with expectation, curiosity and caution — on his own terms, while minding that he doesn't overstep.

L: Staying up late talking to you… It makes me feel calm.

I find it particularly heartbreaking how this confession of L unknowingly makes it more transparent how burdened he is. The spine curved by burdens unseen, the addiction to mind games and sweets; all of these point to stress factors which isolate him further, increasing the loneliness and lack of affection in his life.

That L feels the need to mention the MC makes him feel calm seems telling.

L: We’re both late workers, huh? That makes me happy. L: [F/N]… You’re pretty formidable. L: It’s reassuring to have a partner like you. You’re someone I can trust. L: Your feelings have been received. (Valentine's Day) L: The fact we’ve become so close was an unexpected development on my part.

And here it is, the acknowledgement just as L enters the highest stages of approval, where he expresses admiration and happiness at the close bond he developed with the MC.

"An unexpected development on my part" is quite the turn of phrase. One can only wonder, but I'd make an educated guess that L didn't see this coming because:

a) no one showed feelings towards him before. In his line of work, hidden behind a screen there is no time to indulge or get attached to anyone (he would mistrust their intentions anyway) and so L keeps everyone at arms length, sharing little more than a professional side of himself and fostering utilitarian relationships that help him win "games". L ultimately carries various burdens the average civilian would never be able to understand, all due to the pressure of his job. When failing at the "game of cat and mouse" means being responsible for the likely deaths of dozens, perhaps even hundreds or thousands, the stakes are up in unimaginable ways. What started as a thrill chase can have catastrophic consequences should L fail. That in itself alienates him from society at large. It's a game that L plays well and absolutely profits from, but it is also an indicative of two major flaws: his addictive personality and how he suppresses his emotions to carry on. Coincidentally, it's the expanded universe, in particular Another Note: LA BB Murder Case and L: Change the WorLd, that give us the best insight into this. This isn't too dissimilar to the struggles policemen face in high risk jobs or technicians who have to flag and delete sensitive content from online platforms. These people end up changed from what they see — and some carry traumas for the rest of their lives. That's not to say that L doesn't feel for others. He respects people whom he considers good or morally upstanding (Soichiro Yagami), who are competent in their line of work (Naomi Misora, Mogi), worthy of a second chance (Aiber and Wedy), who speak their minds, unafraid (Aizawa) or who are reliable, loyal to him as a person and not just his cause, in whom he can place his trust and feel secure won't betray him (Watari). The MC seems to fall mostly in the last category, though the relationship is rather precocious — and there seems to be a fair amount of wishful thinking and even projecting on L's part, since communication happens over a device connecting two people remotely. He falls both for the idea of the individual and their attentiveness towards him. When L mentions that they make him feel calm, I'd argue it comes both as a surprise to him and a confession of a closeness and safety he intimately craved — though I personally view L as someone who feels lonely and wanting healthy human contact, even if his social skills might not be the best (worsened by his distrust of people as a whole). Someone who ultimately is willing to adapt to him but whom he can adapt to, as well. Someone who sees him as a person and not an unfeeling robot. It's a POV that certainly challenges certain aspects of DN: Vol 13. I would further argue that L's portrayal has evolved significantly beyond the manga, and that his subsequent humanising is partially a result of the creative liberties the English translations took, as well as a more empathetic view of the character and hidden struggles. Each medium displays a separate iteration of L, with common variables.

b) L fosters distant relationships with others as a safety measure. Aside from Watari, L's contact with other people had always been distant, work-focused, perhaps even tainted by notions of his supposed creepiness as a kinky detective "who relished bizarre murders" (L:CtW). He's useful to the police because he achieves favourable results, though L is still viewed as "a human computer, capable only of measuring mass murders in terms of cold numbers, a reclusive sociopath" (L:CtW). He isn't necessarily liked; in fact, I would argue he rubs people the wrong way most of the time — as we can see during his interactions with the Task Force, during the events of Death Note. L is tolerated, a useful asset who is both mysterious and a pain to deal with. However, he's also put on a pedestal due to his status (i.e., Relight, the children at Wammy's). For the latter, he purposely shatters their idea of L as this unbeatable, paragon of justice by defining himself as a monster (anime), a dishonest cheating human being who hates losing (manga). I do share in lux-mea-lex's perspective on L doubting his own humanity and how it fuels a certain self-hatred for distrusting everyone around him. As lux mentions, "love comes with trust" and L is an excellent detective precisely because he questions everything and everyone — but it comes at a cost: his own loneliness. To draw a parallel, L's ultimate flaw — and that which makes him great at his job — is not unlike what we see during the moments of extreme anguish that Veronica Mars goes through in her personal relationships and which draw people away from her when she oversteps boundaries to prove she's not being lied to. That mistrust comes from experience, for people burdened with having seen too much and it's not unlike a kind of paranoia acquired when one has to deal with the worst of humanity on a daily basis.

Full reciprocity

L: [F/N] you’re the light that illuminates the dark night. That’s an exaggeration of course, but… L: What I need to live is glucose… and to talk to you. Nourishment for my brain and heart. L: When we’re together, I feel like there’s no problem we can’t solve. L: The afternoons I get to spend with you are precious to me.

When the MC achieves the stage of full reciprocity with L, he's very open to showing vulnerability and lowering his emotional defenses. I found this to be particularly sweet, as L is such a secretive man with so many hidden layers that him being willing to show such honesty with that one person he holds dear is incredible character development.

Beyond the game, I would say that achieving this stage with L would be much more difficult and, naturally, would involve going beyond picking the best sweets for him.

Something important to keep in mind is that L seems to value acts of service, as the people who interact with him more closely have some utility value and aid his work. However, L's life revolves around his work; he lives and breathes his detective work, which is why having a partner who brings him peace would be so important.

L: The time I spend with you is as important to me as the sweets. L: Good morning. It makes me really happy to see you here. L: For your sake… I’d think of a way to get through anything. We share a bond. L: When you have time, I’d like to take you to a shop that makes the best sweets. L: When you’re free, how about we play tennis together? I will have Watari reserve a court. L: If something were to happen to me… I want you, as the person I hold dearest, to carry on the L moniker. L: When my thoughts hit a dead end late at night, I feel like I’m stuck in a maze. But, having you here makes me feel reassured.

I also found it very sweet how L takes the initiative to plan for activities to do together with the MC. And how their presence, their reassuring words make him feel at ease. It seems that a loving relationship would give L a goal in life beyond his work.

Carrying on the L moniker... this quote might be the result of L's trust in the MC growing during the events of the game, or a sentiment L nurtures due to the MC being attentive enough to understand his specific cravings. But being able to read L and having the mental dexterity to become him are different things, as the latter involves a lifestyle that few would want and a complete focus on work. Even FBI agents have lives beyond work.

L: I learned from you that sweets are the bond that brings people together. L: You give me true peace of mind. No one could ever replace you. L: The way I am now, I… I can’t think straight when you’re not around. L: Being able to share this sunset with you, I couldn’t ask for anything more. L: You understand, don’t you [F/N]? What my heart so strongly desires is something more… L: When I talk to you, I feel like my senses are sharpened. Thanks to that, my radar has become more sensitive.

What a sweet guy. I love how L focuses on the little things and just wants to spend time together with the person he holds dearest. It's almost as if he daydreams a close, loving relationship — a trait that clashes with L's logical side.

This game and the expanded universe of Death Note have convinced me that there are many more layers to L than what we can see in the main story.

As Fu Takahashi, who plays L in the 2020 Japanese version of the musical, said:

“(...) A common thing about L among these versions is that, despite his superficial image as a smart guy who hates losing, he actually feels lonely and needs affection, I imagine. Perhaps he is an orphan – his character suggests so. He tries to control his emotions, like the feelings towards his parents, or romantic feelings; that’s why he is sort of dependent on games or battles of the mind. So I want to play L while thinking about the foundations on which his personality has been formed.”

I think this quote and the game are actually very telling of L's core personality and how it moves beyond that cold, calculating persona that defines him in the manga. It's also more in line with the characterisation that we see in the anime and the books, which help humanise L.

As I mentioned elsewhere, learning how to trust and be comfortable around someone else would do L wonders. Though that person would have to accept him for who he is and help him learn how to navigate a healthy relationship.

Perhaps the true test of love, for L, would even be for him to be confronted with someone who knows who he really is and, is not only kind to him, but also sees the best in him — regardless of his flaws. I think that we've had a glimpse of it in this game and it's a breath of fresh air.

[kaivenom]

It's always one piece dilfs with a younger spouse and never OP DILFs with an even older spouse (possibly milf)

One Piece Dilfs x MILF!reader

Characters: Mihawk, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Smoker,Shanks.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

He say he doesn't care about your age and it's mostly true but...

When you get mandatory, badass or just independent strong being, he just melts.

Normal life and normal behavior except that he gets a little submissive around you.

Even if he doesn't show, he is at your feet.

Feet massages, relaxing bathtubes, chatting with wine and reading in slience are ones of your favourites activities together.

He doesn't have the need to be extremely chivalrous but sometimes, when he gets jelaous, he can start carrying you in bridal style, getting flowers, putting his arm on your waist...

You both don't need to be chatty or noisy to express your love, you both are really experienced in subbtle affection.

Donquixote Doflamingo

A big simp.

At first he saw you as a threat, but like, for just a little amount of time.

Then he started to see you as some type of monument or muse, someone older and worse than him (in his good way).

He started following your steps really close, to the point you thought he was a stalker.

He justified that he was learning from you.

Plot twist, the moment you gave him a kiss and a smile, he never stopped asking for them, and know you are his spouse.

He likes to hoard all your attention and never leave you alone with any other person his age or similar, he gets really jelaous.

The best of everything is yours and you are the only one that can yell at him at public.

The excuse it's that your age and experience gives you the right to question his leadership, but don't worry, he gets payback later.

Sr. Crocodile

At first he doesn't know if it's cause you are more experienced that him or that you are powerfull and ready to challenge him, but automatically he feels driven to you.

Once he gets the signals right and knows that you feel it too, he would absolutely ask you out.

No shame, he is your sugar daddy, even though you are older.

He is just a simp at your feet (he doesn't show it in public).

He orders the best buffets, hotel rooms, dates, etc.

Only the best for the best.

You always say that you don't mind him spending money on you or not but he never stops giving you his money.

Nobody expects it but you both are really cuddly when you both are alone, sometimes he is even the little spoon (rarely).

Smoker

You were his superior, so everytime he could he would either melt under your orders/pressence or try to show his worth and question you.

His mind had the "chain of command doesn't allow relationships" mantra really sticked into his head but when he got promoted and didn't saw you that often, he started to realize things.

He went full gentleman mode, to impress you.

He did all the things by manual and finally, you accepted marrying him.

That didn't stop him from being flustered by your pressence and worried of you being ashamed of him on social meetings.

He beomes something like your leash husband, always close and disciplined, following your orders (hoping his crew doesn't find out).

Very manly and anxious, he really really doesn't want to ruin your career. This led to the point where you have to always reassure him.

Akagami Shanks

He is oblivious, since he doesn't care for a lot of things, he just thought that you were funny and beautiful, that's it.

Then his crew started to make him see his patterns: remembering special things you said, getting you specific things (a sleeping mask, skincare, clothes).

Small things that just demostrate how much he listens to you and how much he gets the details.

So, gifts are a must every day, even if it's just him giving you a plate of food.

He starts to get into skincare and what you both call now "A spa day off", when he isn't the captain and you are just a couple that spends the day eating and resting.

If you have an actual spa near by, then you go there. Most of the time, you both improvise something on the ship and nobody dares to go where you both are.

For Shanks, that are the best moments with you cause he can see you taking care of yourself, you can take care of him and he can take it for himself (especially for his ghost pain on the arm.

[heartowan]

★ POST- PATROL : jason todd x reader!

( it's fluff! ♡) ─────────────── ★

You sighed once more as you stared up at the ceiling of the room, the warmth and coziness of the bedsheets and the small little fish lamp at the corner of the room not enough to get you back to sleep. You needed to pee, and you couldn't run from it anymore. Ugh.

In a languid rhythm, you got to the bathroom, peed, wiped, washed your hands, and walked out in the same lazy steps as you walked in, but before you reached the room, you heard the familiar noise of the living room window being opened. Funny thing, you didn't even need to look to know who it was.

Jason walked into your shared apartment as quietly as possible not to wake you up, not knowing that you were waiting for him to walk into the small hallway that led to your room.

He seemed to be as lazy as you were, his steps spaced out and heavy as he made his way. And, when he made the turn into the hallway, you jumped in his front to scare him, and uh... it didn't work.

You frowned instantly, and he let out a delightful, hearty chuckle at you, his free hand going to his knee as he laughed, the other held his red helmet.

"How... did you know?" You mumbled, your voice low and slightly disappointed. Not really sad, though.

He took a deep breath before answering you. "You left the bathroom light on." He said, glancing at the open door and strong cool light coming out of it. "I just expected you to be up."

You kept your frown and a slight pout ─ you had yet to succeed at scaring him.

Jason slid his big arms around your shoulders, squeezing you against his chest. He smelled like sweat and gunpowder, but you were used to it.

"I didn't get hit one single time tonight." He murmured into your hair, his face nuzzling your soft strands. You were so soft.

Jason wanted your approval. Wanted you to be proud of him for coming home in one piece tonight. You let out a soft huff at his words, your arms snaking around his waist and squeezing him, earning you a little grunt. "Should I expect that every night from now?" You murmured softly, with your lips so close to his ear, you didn't need to speak any louder than that.

He chuckled quietly. "I'm not gonna answer that."

Yeah, you knew that'd be the response. Jason liked the mess, he liked coming home and having to clean up the blood from his suit, he liked the slight pain from the bruises, and he especially liked when he was so beat up, you had to patch him up, apply ointment, kiss him better. He loved your attention, he loved any and everything you gave to him, physical or not.

"Why don't you go shower while I wait for you in bed?" You murmured in that quiet tone while your arms moved back a little so you could caress the exposed part of his forearms with your fingers.

"I already know I stink, you don't need to point it out." He teased, pulling back to flash a dumb smile at you, and you returned his with one of yours. "But I was going to do that anyway."

With that said, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead before letting go of you. "Wait for me." He mused, already shedding his jacket even before he got to the bathroom.

You shook your head at him, but that dumb smile stayed on your lips for the rest of the night until you fell asleep in his arms.

☆

read my other stuff! ♡

[kaciidubs]

Curious Cat

❣ Summary: Perhaps being curious wasn't all that bad. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.48k ❣ Warnings: Slight Sub! Chris, fluff, smut, comfort, use of safeword, sex toys [vibrators], slight overstimulation, aftercare ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, and My Love, Reader is referred to as Baby, unedited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back - and boy, was this cat satisfied.

Chris didn't intend on snooping around your room when you left to get snacks for your impending movie date, nor did he intend to find a few hidden objects in your sock drawer.

Who knew him wanting to coo over your cute Sanrio themed socks would've turned into him holding not one, but two of your sex toys?

"Alright, I think I have every- Why are you holding those?"

His head snapped in the direction of your voice, your hands holding two convenience store bags filled with the snacks you'd promised.

"I-I, um, I didn't mean to-"

"Are you trying to skip the movie and get to the good part of the night?"

The suggestiveness in your tone made his heart skip a beat - sure, he was ready for you no matter what, but he genuinely wasn't trying to come off as entirely horny, he was just curious.

"I wanna watch the movie, really, but..."

Looking down at the toys in his hands, he couldn't help the thoughts brewing in his head; how do you use them? Do you use them by themselves or do you watch the private videos you two have made while touching yourself? Do you use one or multiple in one night? Do they make you come just as hard as he does?

"I... I think I wanna know how these work."

"On me?" You mused, a sly smirk growing on your lips, "Or on you?"

Oh.

Was that even possible? Could your toys work the same on him as they do for you? Could they make him come just as hard as you do?

Chris was curious, some may say too curious for his own good, but he wouldn't let that deter him.

Which is how he found himself now; naked and writhing on your bed as you held a small blue vibrating toy to the leaky head of his cock, the two bunny shaped ears vibrating in a pattern that left him breathless.

The rabbit vibrator, you'd told him - it was your go to for nights where you just wanted to get off and go to bed.

It made his head spin just simply knowing that the toy currently on the flared tip of his dick was also used on your clit.

"How's it feel, baby?" You cooed, the only piece of clothing still on your body being a basic pair of cotton panties. "Feels good, right? I didn't even have to use too much lube with the way you're dripping right now."

He whined out a sound of agreement, too focused on the pulsing of the toy to pay you any mind.

"This next one is new, I haven't even used it on myself yet but that's okay - you can be my little test bunny, yeah?"

"Y-Yes, fuck yes, please." If one toy was able to make him feel this good, then whatever you had planned for him next was more than welcome.

The small, targeted vibrations of the rabbit left his cock, prompting him to open his eyes and look down at you in question before his gaze locked onto the next toy in your hand.

It was bigger, sort of shaped like a microphone, and was slightly intimidating based on the simpler, theme-less design.

"It's a Hitachi wand," you explained, turning it to give him a full view, "it's supposed to have more power than the rabbit, but since I haven't used it yet, I don't know how it's supposed to feel on me - so, make sure you tell me everything you feel, okay?"

Chris nodded, his dick throbbing in anticipation, "Okay, yeah, I will."

You took a moment to coat the soft bulbous tip with lube before turning it toward him; rubbing it along his shaft to give him a general idea of what it feels like while it's not running.

"Ready?"

"R-Ready."

The click of a button was all he could register before a strong wave of vibration forced a choked gasp from his plump lips.

He could feel it everywhere; from the tip of his cock to his abdomen - he could even feel the vibrations in the taughtness of his balls, it was insane.

If it weren't for the fact that you were sitting between his legs, he probably would've been folded like a chair from the pleasure.

"Channie? How's it feel, baby? What is it like?"

His hands fisted the sheets, chest heaving in uneven breaths as he tried his best to collect the brain cells to form words.

"I-It- oh fuck, fuck, it's so- it's everywhere, baby- oh my god don't stop, please don't stop!"

His stomach was coated in precum, his cock leaking in ways you haven't seen before - you were almost jealous it was being wasted on him instead of in you, but that would be fixed later on.

Pressing the vibration button, you kicked up the speed and pressed the toy against the underside of his cock, right against a vein you were graciously familiar with.

The sound he let out was crossed between a grunt and a gasp of air, eyes rolling to the back of his head, and before you knew it, thick ropes of white streaked across his chest and stomach.

It was like he was frozen in time, stuck between breaths and stomach contracting with each wave of cum leaving him, numb to everything but the constant vibrations now spreading throughout his body.

At the same time, you weren't fairing any better; watching in shocked amazement as your usually loud finishing boyfriend was resorted to nothing but choked breaths and twitching limbs. It wasn't until a certain gasped word forced it's way past his lips that you were brought back to reality.

"R-Red- Red-"

You turned the toy off immediately, tossing it behind you as your hands moved to hold his shaking ones, knuckles white from his grip on your sheets.

"Okay, Channie, it's okay - we're all done, yeah?" You could see the faint streak of tears shining down the sides of his face, watching as he tried nodding his head. "You're okay, baby, just take a deep breath with me - slowly, just breathe with me."

He took a shivering inhale, broken between soft hiccups, before sighing it out slowly, his body relaxing just a bit.

"Good boy, just a few more times for me, alright?"

With each breath taken, his body finally relaxed and the tension in his hands released enough for you to slip your hands into his palms, thumbs caressing his undoubtedly sore knuckles.

"You did great, Channie, such a great job - will you be okay if I leave to get a washcloth to clean you up? Do you want me to run a bath?"

Chris shook his head softly, squeezing your hands, "Just... Just a washcloth... A-And some water, please."

Nodding, you leaned down to press a kiss to his right hand, "Alright, baby, I'll be right back."

It only took a few minutes for you to return with the warm washcloth and a bottle of water, gently wiping up the mess of cum from his skin and lube from his softening dick, before helping him sit up to drink.

He finished the water bottle in record time, chugging it as if he just finished a set on stage before letting out a deep sigh, leaning his head against your headrest.

"That was..."

"Intense?"

"Amazing." He laughed lightly, "And intense too, yeah, but it was... I never felt anything like that before, but I feel like if I didn't tap out then, I would've passed out."

Small giggles bubbles from your mouth, shaking your head at his honesty, "Well thank you for letting me know - do you need me to do anything for you? More water? Food? Wanna talk it out some more? Where's your head at, my love?"

A small hum left him as he opened his eyes to gaze at you through a soft haze, "Food sounds great, and we can definitely talk about it more but not before you tell me how you're doing. I'm alright, really, just a little overstimulated - but what about you? I didn't mean to scare you with the safeword."

"You didn't scare me at all! I was just worried about you, trust me - I'm just glad you're okay." Scooting closer to him, you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, smiling as he press himself into you. "I'll order the food, you just focus on cooling down, yeah?"

He nodded before looking at you with puppy eyes, "Can we order a pizza?"

Rolling your eyes, you laughed, "Yes, we can order a pizza - find something to watch then we can talk about the toys some more."

With a hum of agreement, you set off to put your date night back on track.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[leighsartworks216]

One More Chapter

Sylus x gn!Reader

This is the shorter of two fics I want to get out tonight, but it makes me really soft. Just imagine his really deep, quiet voice speaking in a low rumble.

Warnings: teasing, pet names, fluff

Word Count: 623

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

“How many more times will you yawn before you finally go to bed?” Sylus mused, turning a page in his book. “Let’s count, shall we?”

You sigh. If there’s one thing Sylus excelled at, it was finding the perfect way to prod at your nerves. Unfortunately, you were too drained to snap back.

The page scratches uncomfortably as you flip it, shooting uncomfortable goosebumps down your arm. “Once I finish this chapter, I’ll go to bed.”

He hummed nonchalantly. “This wouldn’t happen to be the same chapter you were on the last time you made that promise, now, would it?”

You glared at him over the edge of your book. He knew very well it wasn’t. It’s not your fault the last chapter left on a cliffhanger. You just needed to find out what happened next, and then you could go to bed! Just one more chapter-

You covered your mouth with your hand to stifle your yawn.

“One.”

You grab the sides of your book with more force than necessary and bury your face in its pages. The words were a little blurry, forcing you to strain more to read them. Sentences were slower to process, especially when it came to deciphering how they connected to the plot. Who did and said what got mixed up more times than you want to admit. But you got through a page through sheer determination to spite the Onychinus leader.

“Two.”

Every time he spoke, you bristled. And yet every time you looked up at him, he couldn’t seem to be bothered to take any interest in you, engrossed in his own book. You wouldn’t be surprised if it was a novel on unique torture methods.

By the time Sylus counted to five, you couldn’t read the words anymore. Your vision was fuzzy no matter how many times you rubbed your eyes. Even if you could glimpse a word or two, the synapses in your brain couldn’t even begin to conceive of registering them.

A hand grabbed the book, thumb resting at the center of the pages as it was removed from your grasp. You couldn’t even think of snatching it back. The piece of paper you were using as a bookmark was picked up by another hand and slipped into your story, safely marking your place, before it was shut.

With nothing to distract yourself, your exhaustion caught up with you in an instant. Your body sagged into the sofa, eyes closing even as you fought to open them again.

“Come on, sweetie. Let’s get you to bed.”

Strong arms slipped under your knees and behind your back, lifting you effortlessly from the plush cushions. The movement startled you, rocketing your tired brain into a panic as you grabbed onto him. His arms tipped you further into his chest, your head landing solidly against his shoulder. The quick beating of his heart resonated in your ear.

“I won’t drop you.”

You watched him carry you through the halls of the mansion, counting the bars on the handrail as he began ascending the stairs. You sighed as you curled up further into Sylus’s arms, letting your eyes fall shut once more. “You better not…”

He chuckled. You felt it in your own chest.

The next moments are a haze. You remember the welcome embrace of a bed. Cool sheets, warm blankets, all holding you in a big hug. Your body had a mind of its own as it stretched out, toes pointing and back arching, before curling into a ball. When you reached out blindly, unsure yourself what you could be reaching for, a soft plushie made its way into your arms.

A warm hand brushed your hair back from your face. “Sleep tight, kitten.”

[primofate]

A Shot in The Dark (Chapter 2) Wriothesley x fem!reader

Summary: As the upcoming Weapons Master of the town, you've started to take more responsibilities in your father's shop. Little did you know that taking up this job would cause you to get thrown into the messy world of criminals and the messy world of confusing feelings for the Duke of Meropide.

Warnings: blood and talks about the use of blood for something unconventional, some might find it disturbing.

Read other parts: Chapter 1

Wriothesley didn’t show up.

Not the day after, nor the day after that.

At first you wondered if he was thoroughly offended by you not remembering who he was, but on second thought, he didn’t really seem like the type of guy to be offended by someone—especially you—not remembering his name.

And so the days passed by normally, the usual number of customers, the usual number of people walking in and asking general questions about weapons and the like. No sign of Wriothesley, nor any other “celebrity”.

It was a week after meeting the Duke that the shop door nearly flew off its hinges and in came a man with a sword strapped on his back.

You took one look at him—scraggly beard, mid 40s, head of hair that was somewhat long, but tied back into a small tail—and was immediately transported to a conversation with your father.

“We usually don’t judge books by its covers, Y/N, but you’ll know when to deny service to someone,” your father exclaimed, magnifying glass in one hand, pointed at a piece of metal.

You purse your lips at the statement, watching him quietly, until you had to ask. “What do you mean? How would I know if they were good or bad people? There’s no way to tell in such a short amount of time,”

Your father muses a bit, a slight hum emanating from his chest. He puts the magnifying glass down and meets your gaze. “Sometimes, your instincts just know, my dear,” he smiles a tiny one. “Our talent of fixing any weapon in existence may be a mundane skill…but weapons are powerful things Y/N! There are times where we have to stop and think, will I be doing the right thing if I fix this?”

“Good afternoon,” the man speaks and you blink back to present day. He stands confident in front of the counter and pierces you with his gaze. There is nothing inherently wrong with how he looked, but you could tell he wasn’t from Fontaine, and there was a strange feeling of anxiety trying to surface from the bottom of your stomach.

Instinct, huh?

You smile at the man. “Good afternoon,” you reply, eyes darting up to the hilt of his sword, peeking behind his back. “How can I help you today?”

The man moved with a type of grace and fluidity that told you he was no ordinary citizen. He most likely had been wielding a sword for years. His hand came up to the hilt of his sword and he pulled at it until it came off its scabbard, revealing that the blade was a blood red colour.

You controlled a shiver that ran up your spine as the man laid the peculiar looking sword on the counter. On closer inspection, the hilt was a deep purple. And the blade was a natural red colour—for a moment you thought that it had been dipped in blood—it was, to your knowledge, a katana, and a very beautiful albeit uniquely coloured one. The wear and tear was visible and you knew that this weapon was most likely centuries old. You dare not to touch it.

“What’s wrong with it?” You simply ask, prying your eyes away from the weapon and towards the man.

The man doesn’t show any sign of disappointment nor worry. “It’s not as strong as it previously was,” he explained. “I assume it needs a bit of refinement,”

A bit, was an understatement. It needed A LOT of refinement. It was an old blade, anyone could see that, weapons master or not. Your hands hovered above it and you ask, just as you always do “May I?”

Your hand inched closer as the man nodded and you took time to run your hand over the entirety of the sword. It had…a lot of ill intent. How you could tell, you weren’t quite sure. It was not wholly about its colour, but its aura, and how heavy and tired it looked.

“…I’m sorry, I can’t fix this,”

It’s time for this blade to rest.

You never thought that you would decline someone of service, it just didn’t seem like something that would happen.

“Do you know of Dendrobium flowers?” The man’s voice is rather low, but still smooth and somewhat friendly.

You blink up at him, taken aback by the sudden topic change. “…I can’t say I do,”

He talks, and while he talks he tries to retrieve something from his rucksack. “Dendrobium. A rare and expensive plant, found in Inazuman soil,” he takes a small box and opens it, revealing a blood red flower that you’ve never seen in your life before. “Rumor has it that these plants are watered using blood,”

There’s a small pause. A moment for you to internalize the information he just shared, and you were sure now, that there was something strange going on with your customer.

“…Mmhmm,” you let out quietly with a small nod, not knowing what else to say, feeling the atmosphere in the shop grow colder.

“The bloodier and more brutal the battlefield, the more lovely the Dendrobium blooms,” he closes the box, and hands it over to you. “Consider it, a gift,” he takes his blade in his hand and stretches it out for you to see clearly. “This here, is Muramasa… and the only way to fix him…is to refine him with Dendrobium ore,” He sheathes the katana onto his back and levels his gaze back towards you. “…but, it’s been centuries, since anyone has seen a Dendrobium ore. People say that the Dendrobium flowers crystallize when it’s been watered with enough blood…and yet I haven’t seen a single Dendrobium ore in my life,”

You stay silent, merely letting him finish his story.

“Well then, ma’am, I’ll be on my way. My thanks, for taking a look at Muramasa,” he tips his head forward, turns, footsteps towards the door, pulls it open and he pulls it close again as he leaves.

You stand still, the flower box in your hand. You wait a few minutes before you can completely feel yourself relax back into your normal state—you hadn’t even realized that you had been tense the whole time—and your eyes drop back to the small black box.

…Does he know? I’ll have to tell father about this…

And just as you always do with your other customers, you try to replay the interaction back in your head, to see if you missed anything or if you said anything wrong. The next customer didn’t come in until lunch time, so you were thankful that you had time to unpack your interaction with the strange man whose name you didn’t get.

The more you thought about it, the stranger it had been, or perhaps he was merely an eccentric? Still, it was completely unnecessary to tell a long-winded story about the Dendrobium…what was his purpose?

“You look out of sorts today,” A smug, familiar voice echoes through the shop. Wriothesley is suddenly there, you hadn’t even heard the door open nor the bell ring.

“Oh, Wriothesley,” you absentmindedly let out, snapping out of thought, eyes adjusting to the view in front of you rather than staring off into space. “Welcome back,” you give a small smile, which has the man a little suspicious.

He thought you were just tired, and maybe hungry, it is lunch time after all, but on closer inspection Wriothesley was conscious of the deeper frown lines you wore. Something as subtle as that, he would notice. Having a good eye for detail was one of his job descriptions.

“Ah, she finally remembers my name,” He takes a jab at you, grin appearing on his features. You can’t help the upward tug of your lips, and refrain from rolling your eyes. You don’t get to retort back because he follows up almost immediately: “Something happen?” He has his gauntlets tucked under his arm yet again, his frame seems taller today, or perhaps you were just feeling small after your weird interaction with your earlier customer.

“…Nothing for you to worry about,” You give a real smile this time, eyes darting over to his gauntlets. “Just…mulling over some fixes,”

It was convincing to the normal person, but to Wriothesley, it was a good attempt at diverting his attention from the real problem. Nevertheless, he didn’t push it, and set his gauntlets down on the counter for you. “Brought these back… I would’ve been back earlier but things happened at the Fortress…” he chuckled under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck as if he had done something disappointing.

The sight made you raise an eyebrow in amusement, mouth turning up the slightest bit more. He seemed to have a talent for making people feel at ease. “That’s nothing to apologize for, it’s your job,” your hands rest on his gauntlets, remembering the exact fix that it needed. “I say I’ll be done with this in 3 hours. You can come back for it right around then,”

He made a sound of understanding watching you start to take tools out to finish up the work. Wriothesley seemed to pause for a moment, his weight shifting from his left to his right. “You’re not getting lunch?”

You shake your head no, “I tend not to get hungry when I’m busy…or I guess I get too occupied with things and forget to eat,”

He again indicated that he heard you with a slight hum, but adds “…Well I’m reminding you now. Café Lutece is just down the road from here,” he points his thumb behind him. You look up to blink at him, your mind blank for a moment.

Was he asking you to eat with him or was he telling you to eat by yourself? You weren’t quite sure and you were stuck about what to say, until he made it clearer to you.

“Come on, I haven’t eaten either.” He jerked his head towards the shop door, indicating that he was about to go, and it sounded like he wasn’t going to offer again.

“Mm…” You think aloud, loosening your hold on the screwdriver in your hand. “I…guess I could go,” you decide, and its as if he relaxes the slightest bit more, waiting for you to walk around the counter, then walking ahead to hold the shop door open for you.

As you lock the shop up for lunch, you turn to him when done, somehow completely forgetting about your strange customer earlier, pointing a finger up to make a point “Lunch break is one hour max, otherwise, I’m charging you a late fee!”

Wriothesley chuckles, “and I thought I was a hard worker,” as the two of you walk together towards the restaurant down the road.

[edgeray]

Ray! 🍅 anon here, I said I wasn't going to request but there's one idea I've been really, REALLY itching at.

So you know how you reblogged "cold nights" by beiibeii? Yeah about that... I think I cooked an angst idea of this on a related tangent? (If you choose to write this, ofc)

How about Mother!Reader who is faced with the same scenario of Arle neglecting them to the point that she loses hope in their relationship? Think of the angst when the children constantly remind their Father of important dates but she's away or somehow missing most of them because of work. To the point reader just implies for them to stop trying and accepts the fact that they married Arlecchino but is now simply the Knave's wife? Like even the children can see them losing hope which is why they sometimes lowkey plead with their Father to actually pay more attention to Mother. Mother marrying Father means that Mother is strong but behind their strong facade you can see their sadness! You can feel their loneliness! And their sense of isolation and sorrowful acceptance of their new reality. And Arle does not pick up on the subtle signs until it's Too Late. Like. Reader in the coffin Late.

And as the Knave's wife Reader does need to undertake missions like in "I am Fine in Your Arms" but because reader has lost so much hope in living a wife outside of being the Knave's wife, reader does not make an effort to return alive. The angst of the burial, maybe the children blaming their Father etc. The really young ones aside, I don't think they would be actively angry with their Father, just very, VERY, disappointed. HotH would lose its warmth for a while before Lyney, Lynette and Freminet try their best to build it back (but of course, it never becomes as warm as it used to be)

Whether or not you choose to give this one a happy ending is up to you, but on my end the only happy ending that I cooked up for them is that Arle wakes up in the next Samsara with all these memories of losing Reader and prevents the relationship from going South in the first place. (Bonus points if Reader also has the memories and compares it to how they were treated by Arle previously, makes a comparison, and goes "How I wish this were my Arle" without knowing that it actually IS their Arle, just acknowledging she fucked up BIG time and is now making heavy amends for it. and Arle Knows because of that look that Reader gives her, sorrow and joy in a complex blend.)

...I think by now you can tell that I'm an angst writer too HAHSHHSHA Nobody leaves my fics without getting a knife and I promise it's just for the plot (like we always say).

I've still been keeping up with your writings (Beauty and The Beast actually fits, holy-) (Someone send Siren!Arle a whole farmhouse of ham for her consumption please) and yes I agree that you've been pumping out bangers after bangers. (I mean. Given that, you probably can afford to be a little indulgent? If writing this much quality about your muse doesn't give you the OK to put your hands all over them, abs and all, what does?)

As always, prioritise your sanity and schedule first, stay well rested and hydrated!

Lost Warmth

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N -  Link to my momma's (@beiibeiii) piece right here. If I see you read this before reading the masterpiece I just linked, know that I am a very disappointed axolotl. 😔  Anyways, you might be able to tell just how long this has been sitting in my inbox… haha… my bad guys. T^T. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to write more angst. :3 And thank you for the additional comments 🍅 anon. I do have quite a soft spot for siren! arle, seeing that she was my first request (and requested from my momma :3). Wanted this to be a little longer, but I do have to wake up earlier tomorrow, so this is what you get T^T. Hopefully it's still good. Content warnings / info - angst, character death (duh), reader is referred to as ‘Mother’ but is otherwise GN!, 1.4k words

Cold is a feeling you've long gotten used to. Cold is your husband's dismissal of your existence, with every interaction ending with her blunt words and back towards you, leaving you with a crumbling heart. Cold are the long nights as you anxiously wait for Arlecchino's appearance for a candlelit dinner you spent half the day preparing, only for her never to return until you fell to exhaustion on the couch, a flower bouquet that remains unreceived in your hands. Cold is the creeping loneliness in the late hours of the night, when you've finally grown tired of anticipating someone that will never come, and returned to bed alone. Cold is the way you shiver underneath the thickest of blankets, no one's body warmth to sink into, no one's softly whispered words into your ear to drift you to sleep. Cold is when instead of your husband, only dim stars, a bottle of liquor, and the tears that stream your face join you in bed.

When was the last time you had felt warmth? 

You recall when the Knave first started courting you, how gentlemanly she was for such a rumored cruel Harbinger. You were first just a caretaker of the House of the Hearth, this small orphanage which you quickly found to be home for you. You couldn't help but adore the endearing children, watching as you slowly became a staple in this family. Despite your best efforts of hiding it, Arlecchino noticed when you snuck in the occasional pastry or cake from the town's most lavious bakery for the children, out of your own paycheck as well. It was then, your husband admitted, when she first fell for you. It had taken her months of encouragement from her ‘pestering’ children before she asked you out, and it was impossible to not fall for her charm.

How could you not? Not when she held you like you were her world. Not when she viewed you higher than the Tsaritsa herself. Not when her touch was heavenly, her words silky and sweet. When she proposed to you, your heart leapt with levity, and you thought your life was perfect now. A warm house, fitted with warm parents, that was what you had had, you had never felt so content. 

Then came the long nights. Nights when she trudged home later than usual, where she fell asleep without a word but sunk into your arms still. Then she started forgetting, forgetting about the dates and birthdays, and anniversaries more and more. At first, you chalked it up to her demanding Harbinger duties, but as time grew and the excuses started to run out, the perfect life you knew was crumbling. 

You became aware of this two years after your marriage when you had been preparing dinner for the two of you once she arrived home, slow cooking a steak since the early hours of the morning. Just as you exited the kitchen, you heard some children surrounding your husband before she left for another Harbinger meeting, telling her that you had a surprise for her once she came home and how excited you were for her to enjoy a new recipe you created. Your heart swelled with hope and appreciation for your children, especially when Arlecchino promised she would return in time. 

You should have known better.

You ate your tear-ridden steak alone and went to bed, leaving the steak out for her for whenever she returned home. Just like how you fell asleep, you woke up without your husband's presence, and when you arrived at the kitchen, the meat and the note besides the plate were untouched. 

You tried to eat the cold steak for lunch as well. You threw it away at the first bite. That day, you gathered your children, pleading them not to ‘pester’ Father with more reminders, as she was very busy. All that you gained back from the children was pitied expressions, and the agony in your chest worsened. Your children could pity you, but your husband couldn't? Even with your husband's coldness, you still carried out your Mother role, if only for the children. You cannot deny that the children's antics helped you forget the ever-present void inside you, caused by Arlecchino. 

You never learned the reason for Arlecchino's behavior, why she had grown so cold towards you. Now, you suppose, you would never know.  

Red fills your hazy vision as you lay on the ground, your entire body aching and fatigued, desperate gasps for air while your heart pounds in your eardrums. Your side was sliced, and the crimson liquid quickly poured out of the wound while you tried to stop the bleeding, but to no avail. 

This is your end, you think to yourself as you weakly turn on your side, every nerve in your body protesting against the movement. Your bloodied hand comes into view, your engagement and wedding ring gleaming slightly underneath the blood. The rings bring your thoughts to Arlecchino–oh, how you imagine the common disappointment in her otherwise apathetic expression, disappointment at your mission's failure. Your eyes bubbled and blurred with tears, vivid memories of your wedding flashing through your mind. The wedding ring is beautiful, still polished with that bold scarlet, the same color of her eyes, the same eyes you could never stop drowning in.

Would she even know your absence? Would she ever acknowledge you, treat you properly like her partner even if you did return? You doubt it. Did you want to return a cold bed, to a husband that does not love you, to a house no longer warm? 

It's warm. 

Your body feels like fire courses through your veins as you feel inexplicably hot, yet it's a welcomed heat. It's the first time you've felt this, but it feels familiar, comforting, like a hearth, and you want nothing more than to surrender to it. It soothes your heartbeat and calms your breath, easing your body as if you were to sink into the most plush of beds, swallowed by the thickest of blankets. The warmth coils around you, wrapping you like a cozy embrace, evoking you to sleep. Your eyes flutter shutter, a faint smile plastered on your lips.

It feels just like Peruere's arms. 

— 

Arlecchino receives a letter addressed to her on the third day you've been sent on a mission. The contents make her drop the paper, and she rushes outside, without an additional word, leaving the House. 

The children do not see her until she returns late into the night, a body wrapped in cloth in her arms. Arlecchino raised her children to be smart, to be attentive, to be logical. Whose body it is, they realize with little difficulty. 

The children weep that night. Arlecchino does not. How can she, when her source of emotions is gone? 

The burial takes place soon afterwards. As your body is placed into the ground, Arlecchino can feel the weight of her children's stare on her back. The charged tension between her and the children is palpable without words. She cannot discern which of the two reactions cut deeper. The seething fury underneath the oppressive grief for the young ones, having to lose another parent, or the crushing dismay inhabited by the older ones, specifically the twins and Freminet. 

Their thoughts are clear, even when none of them speak out loud. 

How could you fail Mother?

The House of the Hearth no longer suits the orphanage's name, not with your missing presence. There is no warmth, no matter how much the trio tries to fuel a lost flame. Even with Arlecchin's pyro vision, it is futile.

Arlecchino stands before your gravestone, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in her hand, and she rests it beside the other bouquets by your grave. Six bouquets in total, for each day after your burial. 

“For all the flowers, I should have given you, my love,” she whispers as she addresses you, glancing up to the heavens. The last two words make her feel like a fraud, undeserving of calling you hers, when she had clearly never shown so. 

Arlecchino, the Knave, the Fatui Harbinger, does not plead, does not beg, does not kneel. However, her knees drop to her dirt, and she grovels. “Please… wait for me one more time, my dear. Once I meet you again, I promise I'll never leave you alone, I'll never let you out of my arms again.”

There is no reply. 

Arlecchino feels cold. 

[crownmemes]

Threatening Sentences, Vol. 5

(Sentences from various sources for threats to and from a muse. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"You better watch it. You know my reputation?"

"Nobody is untouchable."

"I've been shot too many times to be scared by a gun."

"I'll give you a choice. You can walk out of here and never come back, keep your mouth shut... The other choice, I don't think I need to go into much detail about."

"Nothing changes behaviour like pain."

"Think twice about playing games with me; I will blow you to pieces."

"Blackmail? Go on, then. With everything you've done, you'll be going down with me."

"We execute traitors. Didn't you know that?"

"You best be looking over your shoulder because if we cross paths again, I'm going to bury your whole family."

"I came back to finish you off."

"I know what you're afraid of me. It's okay; I'd be afraid too."

"If you come after me, you better bring more than that pretty smile."

"Turn around and put your hands in the air now!"

"Don't ever fuck with me. I will know."

"I'm a hair's breadth from riddling you with holes!"

"I can get everything I want from you even if you only have nine fingers, or perhaps only one eye."

"I'm going to wear your head as a watch fob."

"The prospect of death is strong motivation."

"Will you stop playing dumb? I can't stand it when cops play dumb!"

"I'd tread very carefully if I were you. You, of all people, should know what I am capable of."

"You know, I will shoot you! I will shoot you in the liver!"

"If you want to live to see another day, you'll be out of town by nightfall."

"What's the most pain you've ever felt in your life?"

"Do I need to remind you what happened last time you pushed me too far?"

"I have a job for you. If you want to stay alive, you're going to accept it."

"If you like breathing, you might want to fix this."

"If you put your hand around my neck, you'll lose it."

"How nice to see you properly dressed for a change!"

"Never underestimate the power of incentive."

"Make so much as a sound, and a bullet goes through your throat."

"I may not be allowed to kill you, but that doesn't mean I'm not allowed to hurt you."

"As bad as you think things are now, they're going to get much worse."

"Put that down or I'll blow your head off!"

"Say what you want, but I promise you, you'll be dead by dawn."

"I don't believe that anybody's coming to look for you."

"Do you really think you can win?"

"If you plan on exposing me, then my only option will be to kill you."

[beomiracles]

maybe something like lingerie kink with hyuka? you surprised him with a new set of pretty white lacy lingerie and he just can't keep his hands away from his pretty angel:(( (his words not mine) really soft fluffy sex since with Kai, it's always making love and never fucking 🥹

⌞ 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 ⌝

DREAM RECALL “So please”, you say, your hands on his chest, urging him back against the cushions as you flip your positions, “let me do something for you.”

wc -> 2.3k

PAIRINGS hueningkai x fem!reader WARNINGS really soft sex (like it's almost sickening), love confessions, reader and kai are very hopelessly in love (did I mention that), blowjob/handjob, unprotected sex + creampie, implied marking, brief nipple stimulation (let me know if I missed something!)

#serene adds ✎ birthday fic for the birthday boy !! this super sweet request just aligned so well I couldn't not do it. this lacks a lot of plot, it's basically sex all the way through. writing soft sex is not my strong suit, so any feedback is appreciated, KISSES FROM SERENE <3

The minutes ticked by, rapidly turning into hours, and when the clock struck eleven you began to lose hope. With a small sigh you let your finger trace the outer layer of frosting, neatly decorating the cake you’d made just for him, just for today. — But the man in question was nowhere to be seen. Making him work on a day like this? It was absolutely immoral. You pop an icing coated finger into your mouth as your gaze drops to the beautiful creation before you, feeling almost melancholic as you glance over the neat, 22, written in the center of it. 

Just a little longer, you’d wait just a little longer. With a determined huff, you pull on the silk robe around your body, making sure it remains intact. And so you waited, just like you had been all evening. — You think half an hour might’ve passed, maybe even more, but then you hear it, the faint jiggle of keys in a lock, and your front door opens. Any other day you would’ve ran to greet him, but today you linger by the kitchen island, a small grin threatening to spread across your lips. 

“Shit angel, are you still awake?” Kai wonders as he emerges from the hallway, a most tired look plastered onto his face. Though his groggy eyes quickly widen as they land on the cake in front of you. “Baby what’s..” — “Happy Birthday!” You chirp before quickly beckoning him over. Picking his jaw up from the floor, Kai practically stumbles into your arms as he envelops you in a tender kiss. You smile against his lips, the longing and the wait suddenly seeming minimal when his hands find your waist as he tugs you to his chest. 

“S’that for me?” He wonders, breath hot against your skin and you eagerly nod. “Made it myself”, you proudly state, grinning from ear to ear as he pulls away to peer over at the cake. Color rises on your cheeks as his gaze falls on the small piece of missing frosting, “sorry, I got hungry”, you sheepishly admit, watching as a faint smile creeps onto his face. “I don’t blame you”, he muses, gathering icing on his thumb before bringing it to his lips, tongue darting out to lick at the sugary mixture and you swallow a gulp. 

Too caught up in the way your boyfriend stole small samples from his cake, you fail to notice your robe slipping, the silky material falling down one of your shoulders quietly. But Kai notices, his eyes immediately clinging to your body as his thumb freezes against his mouth. “What’s this?” He wonders as he reaches for your robe. Finally snapped out of your trance, you swat his hand away. “That’s your birthday surprise!” You scold as you meekly cover yourself. But Kai is much faster, easily hoisting you up on the kitchen island, ignoring your shrieks as you warn him about knocking the cake over. 

“Won’t be my birthday for much longer”, he murmurs, fingers hooking around the lining of your dress robe as he pulls it down your shoulder once more. “So I want my surprise now.” — You roll your eyes at the statement yet you let him undress you, leaving you in nothing but the white lace set you’d bought earlier that week, just for today, just for him. The faint blush dusting his cheek is unmistakable and you find yourself smiling, your heart thumping a little faster at the endearing sight. 

“Fuck. You’re beautiful.” The words are nothing but a faint whisper on his rosy lips, his large hands caressing your chest as if it was made out of glass, a creation too perfect for him to taint. His eyes flicker up to meet yours, an unspoken question swirling behind them, “can I touch you?”, his tongue drags across his bottom lip, his gaze unwavering. You nod, because there was no universe in which you’d deny him. You think you might be unable to, your body craves his presence, his caress, his warm breath on your skin, his lips on yours. 

You manage to catch the smile on his face before his mouth is back on yours. It’s soft, slow, because with Kai there was no such thing as time, everything was now and everything was later, you had forever. He often made you feel as if you were the only people left on earth, the only ones left to bask in each other’s embraces. The thought didn’t scare you, as long as you had him, there was nothing that could. 

It was almost like floating, and perhaps you were, because you feel weightless in his arms as he lifts you from the counter, large hands caressing the back of your thighs as he carries you. You never cared much for where he took you, it didn’t matter, all you could think about was him, all you could feel was him. 

The mattress is soft under your back, enveloping you in a warm hug as Kai places you down on the large bed, his body hovering above yours as his lips trail down your neck. — “So pretty, and gorgeous..” He exhales against your skin, the warm puff of air feels nice and you smile. Kai liked telling you how pretty you were, and each compliment made your heart ache even more for him. 

Reddish hues adorn your collarbone, you liked to think of them as flowers, each one carefully planted by your boyfriend as his teeth gently graze your body. You arch into his touch, letting his hands wander as they pleased, the feel of him against you was more than enough. — “Wait.” The soft word, so rarely spoken, catches him off guard and his fingers still by the lining of your panties. His lips part, an apology already waiting on his tongue but you only shake your head. 

“It’s your birthday.” Your small acknowledgement earns a chuckle from Kai as he raises a brow. “So?” He wonders, gently tracing the plush skin of your stomach. — “So please”, you say, your hands on his chest, urging him back against the cushions as you flip your positions, “let me do something for you.” 

At first he seems taken aback by your request, but as your hand slides down his stomach, his expression suddenly eases up and he slowly nods. There was something so special about him trusting you completely, you think. A special kind of intimacy. And as your fingers wrap around his cock, eyes lighting up as he groans somewhere above you, you can’t help but feel your stomach flutter. 

You go slow, letting the palm of your hand caress the familiar shape of him. Already knowing how and where to touch, you take your time, intently watching his every reaction. Focusing on the way his brows come together as your thumb slides across his tip, the way his defined jaw slacks as you squeeze around his shaft. The beads of sweat sliding down his forehead and between the small crease of his frown once you finally give in to his mewls of pleasure and go faster. 

Making Kai feel good, watching him feel good, it was something you would never be able to get enough of. If you could, you would photograph his current expression and treasure it in your mind forever. — His hips jerk forward when you kiss the head of his cock, gripping it firmly as it twitches in your hand before your lips envelop his tip, gently sucking him into your warm mouth. 

“F-Fuck angel”, he gasps, swallowing a gulp as his adam’s apple bobs. You glance up at him, your eyes locking with his and he lets out a strangled whine. As much as you loved pleasing him, did Kai love seeing you like this, so full of love and adoration for him. — Your tongue is flat against his cock, feeling the veins against its surface as you drag it along his throbbing erection. His rough hands are on your face, but his touch is soft as he brushes his thumbs over cheeks; quiet whispers of praise leaving his parted lips as his chest heaves. 

You let your nails drag across the skin of his thighs, making him squirm as he gasps out into the hot air. Every little noise he made was sacred, and you wanted him to feel nothing but important on this day, on his day. “Fuck I love you so much”, he groans, letting his fingers part your hair as he brushes them through your strands. Unable to form a coherent sentence, you hum against him, your eyes fluttering at the confession. 

The way he twitches inside of your mouth gives his approaching orgasm away and you take him deeper, determined to have him finish in your mouth, wanting to be as close to him as possible. But Kai won’t have it, his big hands gently guiding your face from his cock with slight reluctance. — “Need to be inside of you angel.” 

“Please.” Is all you can muster, the word coming out as a mere whine. His strong arms feel safe as he embraces you, gaze roaming the white lace adorning your body. “Look like a real angel in this”, he murmurs, fingers tracing your covered nipples and you sigh against his chest. “But I need to see you.” With that, he slips the garment from your body, letting the warm air caress your now bare chest. Kai had seen your body more than he could remember, he’d studied your every curve, every mole, every freckle. Yet his heart stilled, if only for a brief moment, whenever he laid his eyes on you. 

“My pretty angel”, he says, and you know he means it. His hands glide under your thighs, raising you from his lap as he slides the lace covering your perfect cunt to the side, his breath immediately catching in his throat at the sight of you so soaked for him. — “Missed you all day”, he whispers, his head tilted down to press a kiss to your forehead and you glance up at him, eyes filled with love. 

He finds your clit, index and middle finger gently prodding at your fluttering hole as his thumb rubs the throbbing bud. You whine, nails clawing at his arms as you plead for him to give you more, a lot more. “Please, love you so much.” You don’t think you could ever utter those exact words enough, it never seemed to even come close in representing the feelings your heart harbored for him. 

The tip of his cock slips past your glistening folds and he lets out a small moan, letting your arousals mix with one another. Your second plea has him placing a finger to your lips, effectively quieting you. “It’s my birthday surprise, is it not?” He grins, and you immediately nod. He hums, his hand shifting to cup your face, catching the whimper that rips from your throat as he gently pushes inside, thick cock stretching your aching cunt. 

Sex with Kai didn’t feel like sex, it felt like love. Two people sharing their most intimate and vulnerable feelings with one another. And as you sit perched on his lap, softly grinding against him as your eyes flutter at the pleasure, you can’t think of anywhere else you’d ever want to be. — His mouth is on your neck, then your shoulder, then your collarbone, lastly your perfect breasts, tongue flicking over your hardened nipples. 

It’s slow, tender, the way your bodies move together, nearly becoming one as his arms wrap around you. “My angel”, he breathes, so lost in the way you feel that he can’t possibly fathom another thought, let alone direct a single sentence if not to how much he loved you. — Your head threatens to tip back as his cock twitches inside of you, but Kai was there to catch you, he always was. His hand is tangled in the back of your hair, safely securing you in his grasp as his hips gently raise to meet yours, making you cry out in ecstasy. 

You wanted to say that you loved Kai, that you loved being with him, but it was so much more than that. He made you feel like a completely different person, a person you loved, a person you wanted to be. Your heart ached when he was away, but even more so when he was close, but it wasn’t a bad ache, it was the one that flared on your face when laughing for too long, when grinning too hard. Your heart was smiling. Whenever he was around your heart smiled and you don’t think you could ever describe the feeling as anything else. 

When you finish around him, all you can think is, “I love him.” The consistent throb of your cunt draws beautiful moans from him as Kai brushes through your hair soothingly, living through the moment with you, placing tender kisses to your cheek. — “So beautiful.” It’s almost as if his lips move on their own, the praises spilling from him like second nature, like they had been meant to all his life. 

“Can I..?” He wonders, hand sliding down to rest on your abdomen. You sigh as you nod, “please.” The need to feel him even closer was near excruciating. — With a final snap of his hips, he stills as his warm cum fills your core, the feeling unlike anything in this world and you wished to keep him like this forever, so you do. “Stay.” Your quiet whisper makes him halt as he begins to pull away, arms immediately securing you in his grasp as he retakes his initial position. 

“What about the cake?” He mumbles, though the flicker of amusement in his voice is palpable. “Later, please”, you protest as you cling to him, needing to feel him like this for just a moment longer. — “It’s only your birthday once a year”, you remind him with a small pout. His chuckle, rumbles deep within his chest, vibrating against your cheek as he nuzzles his face in your disheveled hair. 

“But together we have two.”

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[educatedsimps]

Hi! Saw your requests were open and I just had to stop by! Could I request a (not exactly angst bc the idea is funny but definitely in character for him) Bokuto x reader where he's ranting to a friend about how he loves to hug the reader and his friend just makes an offhand comment about how he'll probably crush her since he's a pretty big guy and he goes all emo mode about it. He doesn't want to hurt anyone :( Obviously we gotta add some comfort at the end for the silly guy

≪ back to fics masterlist

bokuto kōtarō  x f!reader

a/n: omg of course!! i haven't had the chance to write for bokuto and yes i agree this is literally perfect for him 🥰

cw: timeskip spoilers, atsumu being stupid, some hurt/comfort, msby crack

"I can’t wait to go home after this. I’m exhausted," Sakusa sighed.

"It’s not useful practice if it’s not exhausting, Omi-Omi. Be glad you’ve got teammates like us," Atsumu drawled, winking at his teammate and earning a disgusted glare from across the table.

"I thought today’s practice was fun! We got to try the new unorthodox version of our quick attack, and we've almost got it!" Hinata chirped next to Atsumu, with bits of his food flying from his mouth.

"I'm fine with it as long as you guys don't overexert yourselves during training," Lisa, Atsumu's girlfriend and the team's physiotherapist, chimed in from Atsumu's other side.

"What are you guys planning to do when you get home?" Meian asked, stuffing a rice ball in his mouth.

"Shower," was Sakusa's immediate answer.

"Probably do a little bit of meditation," Hinata mused.

"Call my brother to ask for more meal prep bentos," Atsumu said. An amused scoff came from his girlfriend.

"What about you, Bokuto?"

Having been focused on his food the whole time, Bokuto nearly choked on his rice when called upon by his captain. With tempura crumbs coating his lips, he smiled widely and announced, "I'm going home to give y/n a big hug!"

"You sure love hugging y/n, Bokuto-san!" Hinata chuckled, popping a salmon nigiri in his mouth.

"Of course I do! I love hugging her! She's so huggable and I just wanna squeeze her so tight all the time and transfer all of my love for her," Bokuto said, with with his fists in the air. "You guys should all hug your girlfriends tight! The tighter you hug her the more she'll know you love her!"

Shooting Lisa a lovesick smile, Atsumu stated, "We all love hugging our girlfriends, but I won't accidentally crush 'er to bits like someone." He nodded towards Bokuto.

Bokuto stilled, staring at Atsumu with confusion.

"Miya..." Meian warned under his breath.

"What? I mean, have ya seen the guy? He's huge! Could prob'ly flatten 'er if he wanted to," Atsumu continued, chortling at the thought. He stopped short as he noticed the glares from Meian and Sakusa. "What? What'd I say?"

By then, Bokuto was already in a completely different headspace. He had a blank expression on his face and a faraway look in his eyes. His shoulders were slightly hunched and his usually spiky hair seemed to droop at the edges.

Sakusa sighed what was probably the heaviest sigh in the history of mankind as Hinata stage-whispered to his teammate, "Atsumu-san, I think you hurt Bokuto's feelings."

Wide eyed, the blonde setter started to defend himself. "WHA-?! no, i- I DIDN'T EVEN-"

Sensing Bokuto's incoming emotinal shut down (or emotional episode, in this case), Lisa quickly tried to divert their attention. "Please, 'Tsumu. You wish you were as strong as Bokuto-san. Your spikes are weak as shit-"

" 'Cause I'm literally a setter!"

"-and not an all-rounder, which is why Kageyama-kun is ranked first in the country and you're second."

"BABE-"

"Maybe I shouldn't hug her anymore. I don't wanna hurt her. What if I really crush her one day? Then she'll really be flattened like a piece of bread. I don't wanna hurt her. So this means I can't hug her anymore. But I like hugging her. But does she even like my hugs?" Came Bokuto's voice. His brows were now furrowed and his face was etched with worry.

"Of course she does, Bokuto-san! I'm sure she loves your hugs, and you love her too much to ever hurt her, right?" Hinata and Lisa attempted to cheer up the saddened spiker.

Finishing the last of his food, Sakusa stood up, muttering, "I'm exhausted, I can't deal with this right now. My partner's here to pick me up anyway," As he walked past the other side of the table, he spoke to Atsumu in a low voice. "Only a jerk like you would say something like that to Bokuto, of all people."

"SHUT UP, OMI.”

"I’m home…"

Your ears perked up at the sound of Bokuto’s voice and you immediately noticed his dejected tone. Closing your laptop, you got up from your desk and bounced over to the front door to greet him.

Sticking your head round the corner, you saw him place his stuff down by the counter before staring into space. His face was blank and devoid of emotion but his eyes were filled with inexplicable sadness. Seeing him like this tugged on your heartstrings and you knew he was going through one of his emotional episodes. You just didn’t know why.

"Hey, Kō! How was your day?" Slowly walking towards him, you reached out your arms to give him a hug but stopped short when he cried out.

"NO, DON’T HUG ME. I’LL CRUSH YOU."

You froze with your arms mid-air before you dropped them back to your side. He had one hand held out to stop you from coming closer and his face was tucked into his other arm. You could hear quiet sniffles coming from him and your heart broke seeing how upset he was.

"But you already have a crush on me, baby. And I have a crush on you too! I thought we’ve already established that?" You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

It didn’t work. It was like he didn’t even hear you, so you decided to give him some space (like Akaashi had advised). You guided him to sit on the couch while you went about the house finishing up your chores. After several minutes, he seemed to feel a little better and you decided to talk to him (also like Akaashi had advised).

Sitting by his side on the couch, you reached out and held his hands in your own. His eyes were downcast and he was avoiding your gaze as if his life depended on it.

"Kō? What's wrong?"

"Nothin'."

"Look at me, baby. Please? I wanna see your cute face," you cooed. He pouted for a while more (which was adorable, by the way) before he finally caved.

"Tsum-Tsum said I'll crush you if I hug you too tight 'cause I'm so much bigger and stronger than you. And I don't wanna crush you, I promise! It just made me sacred to think I might not know my own strength and end up hurting you in the process. That's why I'm scared of accidentally hurting you when I’m excited and I know that if I did, you wouldn't say anything which is why I don't wanna accidentally hurt you with my hugs in the first place-" He swallowed the rest of his words as you pressed your lips to his.

"Kō, I love your hugs. They're the warmest hugs anyone has ever given me. Don't tell my mom, but sometimes your hugs are even better than hers," You giggled softly. A small smile appeared on his face as he looked at you. "And it's not a bad thing that you're so strong. It makes your arms really nice to hug! I promise you'll never be able to crush me. I'm stronger than you think, you know?"

"Really? You really like my hugs?" He asked, hope in his eyes.

"Really. A hundred per cent. A thousand per cent. I wouldn't like it any other way, Kō," You reassured him, kissing him sweetly once more. Within seconds, his entire mood had shifted and he was now beaming.

"Okay! I can hug you now!" He cheered. Before you could process anything, you were held in your favourite set of arms and wrapped up in the warmest hug on earth. You hugged him back tightly and felt his soft lips press against the crown of your head. Snuggling into his warmth, you felt so lucky to have him.

"Oh my god, anyone who says your hugs aren't perfect are clearly stupid," You sighed happily.

"Tsum-Tsum is pretty stupid sometimes," Kotaro hummed.

You pulled away, gasping in faux shock. "Really?"

"Pfft, yeah. Even Lisa says so!" He guffawed.

Before you could reply, your phone buzzed with an incoming message.

Lisa: “hey girl! hope everything’s ok with bokuto. my boyfriend’s kinda stupid sometimes so he doesn’t think before he says stuff. hope bokuto’s not feeling too down!”

Y/n: “it’s all good! managed to cheer him up pretty quickly today, haha”

Lisa: “that’s good to hear. you’re the only one who can cheer him up like that, y/n! anyway, rest well, you two. see ya next week!”

Reacting to her message with a heart, you put your phone down and turned back to your boyfriend.

"So, you gonna hug me or not?"

a/n: UM I HOPE THIS WAS OKAY??? pls lmk what u think 😭

© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarize any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[russellsppttemplates]

have u done the reader meeting charles' family for the first time🥹🫶🏻

Note: I think I've done it for the neurodivergent!reader pieces I have, but I can't remember any other instances! If I did, consider this a take two!

Note: a lovely anon showed me how I didn't read it properly and corrected me (thank you!) So here is the actual piece!

"I think I'm more nervous about your mother if I'm honest", Charles said as you tried to soothe his worries.

"What do you mean? She's head over heels and she hasn't even met you yet", you squeezed his hand.

"She raised you and she's the main female figure on your life, and you're such an amazing, strong, beautiful, independent woman and I'm just thinking of all the ways she can hate me", he admitted.

"Just like I get all of that from her, I also get her incredibly good eye and her loving qualities - you have never complained about those", you kissed his cheek.

"Welcome, Charles! Come on in, lunch is almost ready", your father welcomed him inside, "our youngest daughter isn't here today, she's very sorry about it but she had these concert tickets for a really long time".

"Thank you - no worries, we've already planned a dinner at Y/N's place next week", Charles said, "I brought some wine from friend's company, hopefully you'll enjoy it, and some flowers for your wife".

"Here's the young man who stole this one's heart!", your mother cooed, kissing his cheeks and hugging him, "these are beautiful, Charles, you didn't have to, but thank you", she smiled, "I must say, I've been looking forward to hearing all your stories about racing - it scares me how fast you go but Y/N says you're the best driver and you always do it safely, and she's always so proud whenever she talks about your achievements", she mused as your cheeks erupted in blush.

"Yes, you get used to the speed after a while, and having people to support you there really helps", Charles smiled and miserably winked at you when he felt something on his legs.

"Oh, that's Felix, the family cat", your father chirped in, "He's a bit judgemental sometimes, but he came to you on his own so that's always a good sign - Y/N's last boyfriend got a pretty nasty scratch on his hand and wrist".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[stllmnstr]

sacred monsters [teaser!]

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, vampire au, slow burn

teaser word count: 1.7k

teaser warnings: swearing

release date: saturday, august 3, 10 PM EST

soundtrack: still monster / moonstruck / lucifer - enhypen / everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears / immortal - marina / supermassive black hole - muse / saturn - sleeping at last / everybody’s watching me (uh oh) - the neighbourhood

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A literature student in your third year of university, you’ve been dreaming of having your writing published for as long as you can remember. With a perfect opportunity dangling at your fingertips, the only obstacle that stands in your way comes in the form of a ridiculously tall, stupidly handsome, and unfortunately, very talented writer by the name of Lee Heeseung. Unwilling to let your dream slip out of reach, you commit to being better than the aforementioned pain in your ass at absolutely everything.

But when a string of vampire attacks strikes close to your city for the first time in nearly two hundred years, publishing is suddenly the last thing on your mind. And, as you soon begin to discover, Heeseung may not quite be the person you thought he was.

note: this fic is my BABYYY so I really hope it’s well received and you all have a good time with it. it’s probably no surprise that still monster is one of my absolute favorite enha songs, and this story is essentially (my interpretation of) it in written form. this is going to be a multi-part story, and as of right now, the first part is almost ready to share. for now, enjoy this snippet!

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Crossing a dark line through the word you just penned, you sigh. 

This is the fastest you’ve put a story together in ages. It’s cohesive, and the writing is solid. Your use of metaphor is strong and concise, and the prose feels true to your identity as a writer. 

But something in you withers a bit with every new word you commit to paper. It’s not that you hate your topic. If anything, it’s just that you have no stake in it at all. It doesn't feel innovative or exciting or representative of your creativity. 

No matter how easily the words flow out of you, something about it just feels… flat. One dimensional. 

You need something new. A different angle or an alternative perspective or… Or a fresh set of eyes. 

Struck with a sudden idea, you pull out your phone, plan taking form in your mind. The literature club at your university hosts bimonthly peer review sessions, and you haven’t taken advantage of them nearly as much as you should. They’re a chance for any writer, literature major or otherwise, to come together and workshop any piece of writing of their choice. 

Tapping your finger impatiently on the table, you wait for the page to load. The fall semester did end almost a week ago, so it may be a long shot. You’re not sure if the club typically holds sessions over winter break. But as you pull up the club’s calendar of events, a small smile tugs at your lips. 

Luck seems to be on your side this time. It’s written there in plain, bold font that there will be a session this upcoming Friday evening. That means that if you attend the session and get some solid ideas for revision, you’ll have exactly five days to refine your draft before you present it to Professor Kim. 

The idea of having not only a topic, as the schedule outlined, but an actual complete,  well-written draft to show him next Wednesday, turns your small smile into one that overtakes your features. 

Energized with a new vigor, you reach for your pen again. It doesn’t have to be perfect, you remind yourself, even as a turn of phrase makes you cringe. Even as a piece of punctuation feels out of place. It just needs to be written. You just need to have as much content as you can to share on Friday. 

Besides, you’re sure that a second opinion will help you fine tune this story into something you’re proud to share, something you’re excited to attach your name to.

The afternoon is quick to blur into early evening, and you’re still bent over your favorite corner table. Coffee long drained, you’re full of a new confidence. The thought of proving yourself suddenly doesn’t seem like such an unachievable, out of reach task. 

And when you do finally gather up all of your belongings and make your way back to your apartment for the night, you’re sure that this is the exact boost you needed. 

That same stroke of self-assuredness carries you all the way through a finished first draft. It’s rough and messy and littered with loose ends, but it’s tucked away in the bottom of your tote bag with a smile as you haul it to classroom number 105 in the university liberal arts building Friday evening. 

You pause at the door to the classroom, only for a moment. The inhale you breathe in is deep, full. Nodding to yourself once, you push open the door. 

You haven’t been to one of these workshop sessions since the second semester of your first year, back when you had just switched to a literature major. You remember being wide-eyed and incredibly protective over your work. It was hard to part with it, to let anyone else read over the sentences you were so unsure of. The writing you had little confidence in. 

But your partner had been kind. Another girl in her first year, she had nothing but gentle feedback to give and reassurance that your writing was worth reading. Honestly, it was such an overwhelmingly positive experience that you would have come back for more sessions if you weren’t constantly struggling to find minutes to spare in the day. 

You’re hoping that tonight will be just as rewarding as you enter the classroom, tote bag in tow. But as you survey the space around you, your face falls flat, easy going smile dropping from your lips. 

You weren’t expecting a big crowd, considering that it is winter break and most students are deliberately avoiding campus right now, but you were hoping there’d be more than one other person in attendance. 

Well, you think, deciding to look on the bright side of things. At least you’re not the only person. 

The other attendee is sitting in the far corner of the room, occupying a desk near the front of the classroom. At the sound of your entrance, they turn to face you. 

With that, your small disappointment is quick to snowball into an intense wave of exasperation. Because why is the universe so hellbent on playing games with you?

Your mouth drops open without your permission. “Heeseung?” 

Your sudden outburst fills the room and lingers long into the awkward silence that follows. You hadn’t meant to say anything, but really, what are the god forsaken odds?

If he’s bothered by your reaction to seeing him, Heeseung doesn’t show it. Instead he looks strangely… relieved. It makes absolutely no sense for him to feel any sort of relief at the sight of you, but it’s hard to put a more apt descriptor to the way tension drains from his shoulders, crease between his brows softening as he looks at you, scans you from head to toe. 

A moment of stilted silence passes between the two of you. Another. Your heartbeat feels too loud in your chest.

You exhale, a cross between a scoff and a laugh so humorless it could freeze a flame. Weighing your options, the most tempting by far is to just turn on your heel and exit the way you came. 

Heesung seems to read your intention before you can commit to it. 

Breaking the heaviness in the atmosphere, he acts as if you’ve greeted him like an old friend, not as the source of all your recent headaches. 

“Hi,” he nods, so tentatively you almost want to let your jaw drop open in shock. Almost. 

Because what the fuck does he mean by ‘Hi?’ This has to be some kind of mind game, some way to get in your head and ruin this for you. 

“Right.” Your lips pull into a tight line. You don’t bother to return his greeting. “I’m just gonna go, then.” Hiking up your bag on your shoulder, you turn to do just that. Your first draft will just have to be unpolished. Oh, well. You’re sure Professor Kim will have better feedback for you than Lee Heeseung ever would anyway. 

Once again, Heeseung’s voice cuts across the classroom. “Wait.” There’s a command in his voice. Gentle, but firm. Insistent. So pervasive that you find yourself following without really meaning to. 

Mind made up and dead set on leaving, now you’re just annoyed. What a waste of a Friday evening.

“What?” You turn back to him. You’re not sure if there’s more venom in your voice or your eyes. 

And Heeseung, who commands a classroom with quiet grace, with his steady, unwavering presence, suddenly looks so damn unsure. As if tormenting you is uncharted territory. As if he’s never once left you in the cold with flaming cheeks and a thoroughly shattered ego. 

“I…” he trails off, not quite meeting your furious gaze. “Didn’t you come here to get feedback?”

“Right.” You scoff again. “Because I’m sure you’d love nothing more than to tear my writing to shreds. Forgive me, but I’m not interested in being the butt end of your joke tonight.”

“What?” If you didn’t know any better, the ignorance he feigns would be rather convincing. “That’s not why I’m here.” He shakes his head. “I brought something I want reviewed too.” 

Your brow arches. He can’t be serious. “Even if I did stay,” you counter, “you’re actually the last person I would want to read my work. Feel free to be offended by that, by the way.”

For a solid minute, Heeseung just looks at you. He wears that same damn deer-in-the-headlights expression he had after you brushed him off when he intercepted you in class the other day. He pauses, weighing words on his tongue. “Look, ____.” The sound of your name on his lips strikes a strange chord in you. Until now, you were certain he didn’t even know it. “Did I do something to offend—”

And no. Absolutely not. No way are you rehashing that day in the quad with him now. 

“You know what,” you interrupt. You need to go. Now. You need an out. “I’m actually, like, super tired. I think I’m just gonna head back, and—”

But then it’s his turn to cut off your train of thought. “It’s your piece for Professor Kim, isn’t it?” Heeseung takes your silence as confirmation. “Publishing is a big deal. A second set of eyes will only make your work stronger. And if you hate my feedback, it’s not like you have to use any of it.”

You hate it. You despise the way his reasoning matches your internal monologue nearly word for word. The way your thoughts align exactly. 

You pause, a decision weighing heavy on your mind. He is an excellent writer… There would probably be substance to his feedback. Real, actual, good substance that you could use to make your writing bloom into something truly amazing. He could be the exact spark you need to make your story come to life. 

You purse your lips. “What’s in it for you?”

Heesung smiles, a nearly imperceptible quirk of his lips. He knows he’s won. “Like I said, I brought something I’ve been working on.” There’s an intention you can’t quite read behind his gaze when he adds, “I want to know what you think of it.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

With a grumble, you take reluctant steps towards where he sits on the opposite side of the classroom. And if you slide down into the seat next to him with a little more force than necessary, well, it’s just because you’ve had a long week. No other reason. None at all. 

“Fine,” you relent, reaching to pull your notebook out of your bag. “You get twenty minutes.”

“That’s not nearly long eno—”

“Thirty,” you concede. “And don’t push it.”

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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note: thanks for checking out this little snippet! I can't wait to share the full first part soon. this one is going to be so much fun I'm buzzing already. I don't have a tag list, but I will most likely update this post and reblog it once I have a confirmed release date. like I said in the note at the beginning, I'm anticipating it will be ready to go by this sunday (august 4 EST) at the latest. woo!