#I don’t think any of what he did is necessarily *right* however I do *enjoy* it because I think it’s an interesting way for his character to

[paging-possum]

Grits my teeth because I am NOT going to share a dungeons and daddies opinion right before I have to go work for 7 hours I won’t I won’t

[leclsrc]

a certain romance ✴︎ cs55

genre: fluff!, humor

word count: 4.5k

A love affair is never an easy thing to keep under wraps. Or, the four times your two brothers almost catch you and Carlos together, and the one time they finally do.

notes... reader is a leclerc, one sexual allusion but it’s not bad, french that is basically translatable thru context clues

auds here... req’d, sort of twice! was gonna make this a full fledged fic but i went with the short route to keep it brief. i hope u like this anon/s :) title from a song of the same name by the arctic monkeys. also there is use of y/n which i generally don’t like using in fics bec i feel it disrupts the flow, but it wouldn’t have fit any other way so. must b all... enjoy!

If you told Carlos Sainz that he—a full grown, mature, twenty-eight-year-old man—would be tiptoeing on the balcony of a hotel in Monaco (shirtless and fully terrified, no less) eight months from now, he would laugh at you. But he’d be doing so anyway, fearing something in the room behind him rather than the alarmingly high distance he’d be possessing over the road below. He’d inhale, exhale, recites a few proverbs to keep himself calm. But now, if you told him, he would mumble something along the lines of estúpido, because really, how the hell would he get himself into that situation?

Don’t worry. He’s going to find out.

“I’m not really looking to date,” he says wisely, taking another swig of his beer. “I think racing is the number one thing on my mind. And it’s difficult to maintain a balance of both.”

Lando clears his throat, tipsy from having exhausted his drinks and then some. “Mate, quit being a pessimist. You Spaniards, I swear. That’s not necessarily true. I made it work.” He presents two thumbs, pointing them toward his beaming, dopey face. 

Carlos stares. “Luisa broke up with you.”

“Right then, you arse, twist the knife,” Lando mutters exasperatedly, his thumbs drooping down and his smile dropping. Carlos can’t help but throw his head back in amusement, eking out apologies in between bouts of laughter. The younger just mocks the laugh, finishing the beer he’d been drinking. 

The two are on the balcony of Lando’s flat, overlooking the expanse of Chelsea. The subject of girlfriends and looking for love had been between them for a while now, seeing as they were both single; they’d often greet each other with a Got a girlfriend yet, cabrón? And, while the conversation was generally harmless, it did tend to push Carlos into a state of introspection regarding his own love life.

“But honestly, really.” Carlos says. “I just don’t know if a girl is what I need right now. Unless somebody perfect drops on my lap.”

“I’m going to ignore how pervy that sounds—but I get it. I guess the career thing’s just the priority, huh, mate? And speaking of career”—Lando rifles through his jacket pocket and fishes his phone out—“we’re going to be late for dinner if we don’t leave in the next fifteen.”

Ah, dinner: the only reason Carlos had chartered a jet to London earlier today in the first place. Proposed out of sheer fun and then carrying on because it actually seemed like a doable idea, Lando had texted a few drivers and invited them and however-many-pluses they wished to bring to an upscale restaurant in the city as a way to get in touch.

It didn’t seem ideal, until they realized that 1. Lando, George, and Alex were already in London, and 2. Charles was with family and had a meeting there, too, and—well, at that point Carlos had basically succumbed to peer pressure and gotten on a jet straight to the UK. Lando always had a penchant for making these plans and spending the entire time making dirty jokes and/or getting tipsy and/or using his camera to take pictures of any and everyone, which really just made the dinners all the more fun.

They clean up the bottles of beer they’d drank from, and Carlos pulls his coat on by the door, still unused to the overcast British weather. “Who’s there later?”

“The boys, Arthur… Lily, Carmen. I think. I mean nobody brought their mums or whatever. That’s all of ‘em, I suppose.” Lando inspects his outfit in the mirror by the entryway and swaps out his jacket for a different one, ushering Carlos out the door and into the waiting car. Something about I’d rather be driven around than drive a pretentious sports car around the city looking like a daft prick. 

They’re halfway to the restaurant, both on their phones, when Lando suddenly gasps softly and goes, “Right, and Charles’ sister is going too.”

Carlos looks up, interest piqued. He hadn’t heard much of Charles’ sister before—you’d dropped by a few races, and had always been present for the entirety of the Monaco weekend, but you weren’t engaged in racing as much as Charles’ other siblings. He’d shaken hands with you and made the polite, necessary, albeit totally rushed small talk. “Y/N,” he recounts. “Right?”

“Yessir,” Lando says, letting Drake filter through the AUX of the car. “The one in law school.”

He nods, trying to pick out specific memories. None really come to mind—it’s all introductions that repeat themselves. Hi, Carlos Sainz, Charles’ teammate. Oh, hi, I’m Charles’ sister. He faintly recounts finding you pretty, but having not seen you at the paddock for quite a while, he considers his memories dubious at best. He leans back and listens to Lando rap Rich Flex with an obnoxiously posh accent instead, and figures if he dies now, at least he wouldn’t have to keep hearing this.

The restaurant is nearer than they anticipate, so the Drake rap-along session is cut blissfully short, the pair being ushered into the private seating area, coats taken and wine served. They join George, who, at his insistence, had made the reservation in the first place even if Lando had suggested the restaurant, and Carmen. 

“Charles and Albon?” Carlos asks when he takes a seat, greeting the couple.

“Charles and Arthur are on their way, but Alex is stuck in Harrods with Lily and Y/N. They got busy looking for shoes or something. Poor guy,” George says, half-laughing. 

“I so wish I met up with the girls beforehand,” Carmen mopes, “the sale at Harrods is amazing.”

The conversation descends into a multitude of different topics, as they always do when Lando and George lead the way—racing (obviously), Carmen, Daniel Ricciardo even, dogs, any plans of adopting dogs, and then, because George Russell is a little shit, he says: “Feels nice being the only guy with a girlfriend at the table right now, innit?”

Carmen pinches his arm but he persists with a smile. “No, but really. You two are just about the most eligible bachelors ever and still single. What gives?”

“I for one am not into monogamy at the moment,” Lando says matter-of-factly. “I’m twenty-three, mate. I’m trying to have fun. But Mr. Almost Thirty here is a different case.”

“Ay,” Carlos gripes. “It’s not an involuntary thing. Just want to focus on racing.”

He prays then for this topic to come to a close so he won’t have to explain himself all over again, and reprieve comes in the form of Charles and Arthur entering the room. Already Charles is talking, before he even takes a seat, and Arthur is nodding along—something about how London traffic sucks, how are your streets so small, mate, oh my God Harrods is so full, Lily and Y/N have been at it for hours, poor Alex, he volunteered to stay. The guy spouts words quickly and easily, in an accent that sounds both English and French.

The rest of the wait time happens fast—Lily and Alex rush through the entrance, apologizing for being late. The lines are so long, Lily explains, taking a seat and leaving the other side empty. When her boyfriend tries to sit there, she swats him away, goes, babe, no, that’s for Y/N. So her boyfriend sits woefully across her and beside Carlos instead.

“Where is Y/N?” Charles asks. Carlos is also curious, albeit inwardly. He didn’t even know you were arriving until late, and still he hasn’t seen your face.

“Sorry, I had to check something with the valet,” a voice goes, and then you’re sliding into the seat across him.

The thing is, Carlos has been stunned before.

It’s sort of a non-negotiable when you go into such a demanding, high-risk sport. If he’s careening into another car, or the side of a circuit—obviously, it stuns him. Everything spins into slow motion for a few nerve-wracking seconds. But he’s also been stunned in all the good ways: when he can tell he’s in the lead, when he overtakes the car in front of him, when he bounds past the flag and realizes it’s a podium finish. So, yes—Carlos is fully familiar with the gut churning, belly spinning delirium of being stunned. So familiar, in fact, that he’s grown familiar with it, developed a second skin for it, welcomed it with open arms.

Which also explains the way he sees you laughing quietly at something Lily says and subsequently realizes, with apprehension and dread, that he is stunned.

—

The first time it happens is after the dinner—not just the dinner, but the drinks and the London walk that followed, accompanied by three noisy and drunk tour guides (read: Lando, George, Alex). Charles and Arthur, almost as drunk, follow the tour with loud jabs of their own, and Lily and Carmen are filming everything on their phones. You’ve been on your phone checking an email, and Carlos takes a call from his cousin, which naturally leads both you and him to trail behind the group.

So, when you’re both done taking calls and checking emails, it’s the two of you left to your own devices. You swing within the awkward few moments of deciding whether to rejoin the group or just keep trailing behind, your shoes clicking softly against the cobblestone pavement, accompaniments to Lando’s loud singing of Piano Man. 

“What’d you think of the wine?” You ask, your accent sliding easy into the syllables but not losing its distinctiveness. 

He pretends to ponder, even if he’d given Lando a full-scale review when they first left the restaurant, and turns back to you. “It was okay. A bit too sweet for my taste.”

“Exactly! That’s what I told Arthur, but he found it perfect. I guess kids these days just don’t have taste.”

You both laugh at your sarcastic use of “kids”, knowing you’re just two years older than your younger brother. Carlos opens his mouth to speak, trying to find footing, the perfect suave thing to say to possibly land himself in a position to flirt.

Right then, Lando reaches the crescendo of Somebody to Love (he can’t ever finish a song), and then Charles is turning around to find you and Carlos engaged in conversation. His lips stretch into a mischievous smile.

“Aye, Carlos! Back off the baby sister, mate!” He slurs, clapping Arthur on the back to catch his attention.

Arthur’s eyes narrow playfully, darting in between you both. Carlos just raises a middle finger in response, sending the brothers into unnecessarily extensive bouts of laughter. You roll your eyes, blowing a raspberry. “Putain. These fucking shitheads never leave me alone.”

George is in the middle of teaching Charles to say sod off instead of back off when Carlos purses his lips and, on a whim, turns and goes: “Is there a rule against dating drivers?”

You try and fail to hide a smile. “Hmm. None, I don’t think.”

Silence. Then you speak again, coy. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Carlos says. London is suddenly a place of magic. “No reason at all.”

—

It’s at an afterparty, the second time it happens—and technically the first where you and Carlos actually connect properly. In hindsight, it might’ve been stupid to flirt with him in the middle of the dance floor—something he thankfully realized in the moment, taking your hand and guiding you through the throng of people into the back exit.

Nobody said first kisses had to be remarkable in the romantic sense. Sometimes they’re in seedy European alleyways, with a fist bunched into his polo and a hand on your hip. It had to happen this way, because how else would two months of beating around the bush culminate? Because even if you’re drunk, you can’t stop thinking about how much you want to kiss him again. Tomorrow morning. And the next.

You pull away, but he speaks first, voice rushed and semi-sobered. “Let’s not.”

Humming, you try to swallow the lump of distress in your throat. “Why?”

“Because,” he says, nervous now, gulping. “Because—of the bro code.”

You stare. “Is that a Spanish thing?”

“B-ro c-ode,” he says again, enunciating the syllables; the Spanish accent doesn’t go away, and neither do his hands, hot and big on your hip and waist. 

You move your hand from where it’s fisted into his shirt, cupping his neck. Then you burst out laughing, much to Carlos’ confusion. “That is so not a thing,” you press, unconvinced.

“It is. Bro code. I just crossed that line, dios mio,” he says, clearly way more stressed than you are. 

“Bro code isn’t upheld for boys over twenty-one,” you say haughtily. Right then, you hear Arthur’s voice through the door and it swings open a few seconds later. In the span of those moments, you shove Carlos away nervously and attempt to look like you weren’t doing anything.

Arthur’s on the phone, speaking in quick French when he sees you and Carlos at a respectable distance. He tilts the phone away, mouths What’s up?, pointing at the both of you.

“I felt like vomiting and he was nearby,” you reply, nodding. He’s out of view, exiting the alleyway within seconds and back on the phone. 

You exhale, and turn back to him. “Okay, so maybe the bro code is a thing.”

He looks at you as if to say no shit. “I don’t think we should do this,” he says, but his tone betrays himself.

“Okay,” you say. “Okay.”

“Right, yes.”

A beat. “Can you kiss me again?”

—

Against all odds, you and Carlos had managed to successfully start dating under your brothers’—ergo the majority of your mutual circle’s—noses. You’d only let it slip to a few close friends and family, and in Carlos’ case, Lando, because Lord knows the guy could not keep his mouth shut for the life of him. And even if it was stressful, and it often felt like any moment would be interrupted by somebody catching the both of you on the phone, or even together, neither of you could deny how good it was.

It’s five months later—five months of pure bliss, for the most part. Save for multiple close calls, you and Carlos had enjoyed each other’s company. You’d tried to navigate how everything would work once you realized you both wanted something more out of the relationship, but neither of you wanted to deal with the hassle of your overprotective siblings yet. You’d resorted to hours of FaceTime, everyday texts, and if the world was on your side, the occasional date. 

The last method is easily your favorite, you both—and when the drivers get three weeks off and Carlos spends it in Las Vegas, that’s how it happens, the third time. Carlos visits you at your hotel, relishing in the eleven-thirty emptiness of the communal area, swimming in the jacuzzi and giggling about something into Carlos’ neck. You barely remember the joke; you’re honestly just welling up with enthusiasm and an endless supply of laughs that your boyfriend is finally with you.

Your head is still dug into Carlos’ neck, laughing about something else now, when you hear faraway footsteps. Having grown used to being a pseudo-patrolman, your eyes dart up immediately, and your stomach drops when you see, seriously, of all fucking people—Charles and Arthur. 

“Oh my God,” you mutter, dumbfounded. A hand wet with jacuzzi water taps frantically on your phone; sure enough, you’d gotten texts from the both of them about dropping by your hotel for drinks. “Oh my God, oh my God.”

You disembark from your position on your boyfriend’s lap, hoping the hickey he sucked onto your neck won’t be visible from meters away. Your eyes shoot up again, and they still haven’t spotted you. Holding your breath and bracing yourself, you turn to Carlos, place two hands on his shoulders, and shove him underneath the water.

They spot you then, waving enthusiastically. “Drinks!” Arthur shouts, mimicking a beer bottle with his hand. You chew your lip nervously, raising one hand and waving back.

“Don’t wait up and I’ll just meet you at the bar!” You holler, watching as they pass through the entrance at a truly leisurely pace. 

Once they’re in, you haul your boyfriend up and he breathes deeply, anxious. “Puta madre.”

“I think we should tell them soon. I don’t want you literally dying just for the sake of keeping us a secret,” you say, maintaining a safe distance and constantly turning toward the entrance just in case. You reach for his hand underwater.

“It’s thrilling, actually,” he winks.

“I’m sorry if it’s a bother.” You say woefully, guilt eating at you a little bit. But he takes your hand, squeezes it among the jacuzzi bubbles.

“Nothing’s a bother with you.”

—

Charles knocks on your Monza hotel room door when it happens the fourth time, opening it once he finds it unlocked—and then freezing when he finds you buried in your duvet ’til your shoulders. You’re in your silk pajama top, arms and mouth outstretched into a yawn when your eyes meet, hair disheveled. You blink.

“Charles.” You say confusedly, letting your arms drop. “Tu vas bien?”

“Mmm, ça va.” He pauses. “Et toi?”

“Moi aussi,” you say casually. “Any reason you came into my room without waiting for me to answer the damn door?”

He smiles, as if remembering why he invaded your privacy. “Right, I came in here to ask if you’ve seen Arthur.”

“I’m clearly by myself in bed, so no,” you respond cuttingly. “Last I checked he was walking around with Lando.” The two had become fast friends after the London dinner. 

Your elder brother hums, then moves to take a seat on your bed, to which you quickly reach over, grab a complimentary soap bar (on the bedside table and not the shower, which you’d found weird), and toss it square at his face. “Ah—ay! What the fuck?”

“Don’t come near me,” you say. “I’m sick.”

“Sick? What rubbish. You were literally at the paddock hours ago totally fine.”

“Don’t be daft. Not that kind of sick, you arse—”

“Not that kind of sick,” he mocks, exaggerating his accent and raising his voice a few octaves to sound like a silly version of you. He raises an accusatory finger. “You lie, you lie!”

“I am not lying,” you insist irritably, sitting up a little and cocking your brow. “Tu es insupportable!”

You slide into a flurry of angry French and Italian in your valiant efforts to defend your innocence, and Charles is infected into doing the same. Eventually the room is just filled with indistinguishable insults and scoffed phrases of merde, ah bon?, and immensely accented What thuh helliz your problem?s. You even chuck another hotel soap at him for extra measure, but he manages to catch it this time. It’s childish, like many of your petty fights born out of irritance.

“I’m on my period, you prick,” you say as a last resort, once the insults have run their sufficient course. “I couldn’t be arsed to find Arthur.” His eyes narrow, doubting you, but ultimately he admits defeat, walking back to the door to exit your room. The door’s out of view of your bed, so you brace yourself, waiting for it to open and click closed.

“You better not be harboring a fugitive in here!” He says, but only half of here is heard before the door clicks shut and drowns him out. The tension leaves your body and you heave a deep sigh, relaxing backwards and biting your lip. 

The thick silk duvet flips upward and Carlos surfaces, face flushed from being in hiding for so long.

One arm is still curled around your thigh, the inner part of which is rubbed raw from his facial hair being against it. You stare at one another with dopey smiles on your faces, relieved that you’d managed to act fast and flip the huge blanket over Carlos—although he had conveniently been in that position to begin with. 

“Do either of you ever shut up?”

“One more word and I’m kicking you,” you say, reaching an arm out to stroke his jaw. You smile, laughing a little. “I’m not bluffing.”

“Scary, princesa,” he teases, hauling himself up to press a lasting kiss onto your lips. You smile into it, out of relief that your nosy elder brother didn’t catch you, but also out of the way your heart swells when Carlos smiles.

—

“You’re absolutely sure it’s the right room number?”

“100% positive. 613, Y/N Leclerc.”

“And not any other Leclerc.”

“Mate, I just said Y/N. Get a grip,” Lando scoffs. “My investigative skills pay off. Still don’t understand why you couldn’t have just asked her yourself, seeing as though you two are, I dunno, dating.”

“It’s a surprise, man,” Carlos says cuttingly, facing the lobby of the Hôtel de Paris. “Alright, thanks, cábron. I’ll see you soon.”

“Get some!” The Brit whoops, and then Carlos is taking the elevator to your room.

He didn’t think of himself as much of a surprises guy, but then again—he didn’t think of himself as much as a flowers and teddy bear guy, but he’d gotten you those every month since you became official; he didn’t think of himself as much of a physical touch guy, but he was always the one initiating hugs and cuddle sessions. The list goes on.

He knocks, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

Much to his relief, it really is you who answers, with the face of surprise he wanted out of this. Before you utter a word, he’s dipping down to kiss you, and you find yourself returning the kiss, knowing you’d lost your boyfriend’s presence for so long. It quickens fast, and Carlos wedges himself in, kicking the door closed behind him.

You pull away. “Wait, I—”

He kisses you again, and you can’t resist, laughing at his persistence. He pulls away to tug his shirt off, and that’s when you crash back to reality. “Mmmm—Carlos, this isn’t my room!” 

Everything happens fast after that.

The door starts opening and Carlos hears Charles on the other side of it, talking about there was a room mix-up, Y/N, this is mine and 615 is yours—he misses the rest of the sentence, clutching his singlet to his bare chest and allowing himself to be pushed by his girlfriend out the door of the balcony. Thinking he’s safe if just for a moment, he turns, but finds he still sees the room—the curtains don't cover him enough. 

And if he can see the room, he figures, the room can see him. And if the room can see him, Charles will see him when he’s fully inside. 

You’re gesticulating wildly with your hands, trying to find a way to distract your brother, turning away from Carlos briefly to maybe just accept your fate. Charles shuts the door, facing you and, consequently, the balcony doors. Your heart seizes. Surely, Carlos must be there—there’s no other place left for him to hide, unless he miraculously fit his blocky, broad frame behind a random potted plant.

“Something wrong?” Charles says, and you whip around. The balcony’s blissfully empty.

“N…othing.” You say. “Nothing.”

“D’accord,” he says promptly. “So. Dinner?”

Your head spins, unable to formulate a reply. Where could Carlos have hidden?

The balcony is a bit wide, but the entirety of it is visible, and, well—Carlos is clearly not. There’s one lawn sofa, and one plant, neither of which seem to harbor your favorite Spaniard, so where the fuck is he? Because of course, he’s not stupid. Surely. He’s twenty-eight, you think.

What kind of guy would climb onto the banister of the Hôtel de Paris just to hide from his girlfriend’s older brother?

Carlos cannot believe he’s on the banister of the Hôtel de Paris just to hide from his girlfriend’s older brother.

In the scurry of it, he hadn’t even gotten properly dressed. So here he is, braving the frigid sixth-floor air and the harrowing height at which he stands, brandishing his shirt like it’s a flag and standing like he’s on a podium. He feels like he’s about to die for love. Like some Shakespearean hero.

But when he digs deep he figures he doesn’t actually mind at all. Sure, he feels like he’s on the brink of death, but he realizes it’s for you in the end, and that comforts him. He never thought he’d do this, ever, not even if he was paid, or bet on, or for a Real Madrid win. He leans back and ignores the asphalt below. He’ll stay here as long as he needs to.

“Mate, get down from there.” Carlos looks up to see Charles and Arthur going absolutely mental, even taking a few photos for good measure. Relieved, scared, and just glad his stint on the banister is over, he climbs off and pulls his shirt back on, crossing his arms. He spots you inside, smiling but also insisting they delete the incriminating evidence.

In the end, seriously? This is the reaction you and he hid from for eight months? You walk over to place yourself beside Carlos, watching your brothers. Two fools laughing at everything, each other, their sister, and her boyfriend. “Jig is up,” Charles says. “But we’ve known since you two kissed outside that club.”

You roll your eyes; clearly, you’ve already been told this information. But Carlos is slack-jawed with shock—they did all that on purpose. How fucking cheeky, really. He figures they gave Lando the wrong room number through the grapevine, too.

“But,” Charles says, wiping real tears from his eyes, “I know you love my sister, mate, so I’ll be the first to say I approve. Arthur will be the second.”

“I approve,” says Arthur dumbly.

“We approve,” they say in unison, then they’re laughing all over again. You swat both of their arms in retaliation, which causes the teasing to subside.

“Now, cábron,” Charles says gleefully, “we do have a couple of questions for you…”

You squeeze his hand. Even if he prefers the banister, your presence is comforting all the same, and he’d answer any totally unnecessary, pointless, silly question from your brothers if it means he gets to hug you again later. If you told him eight months ago he’d be this in love, he would’ve laughed in your face. But here he is anyway. 

It’s comforting.

[joocomics]

i keep talking but this is the last one for now. i haven't had a decent sleep for a week cuz this stupid project i should've started after the prof announced it. i regret it but at least i finished it. another project to do again 🥹 it's neverending with the midterms.

idk if you did this but do you have any thoughts on somno for the members? i think jiseok would be up for this especially with his cockwarming obsession i swear.

- 🫧

# xdinary heroes + consensual somno

i do cause i can see all of them be open to this! after you talk about trying it sometime all of them would go for it sooner or later

♡ gunil

i see him as a big morning sex type of guy, so he definitely likes waking you up with his cock. fucking first thing in the morning helps him feel refreshed and energised for the rest of the day, and it happens frequently. most likely that’s why one day you tell him there’s no need to always wait for you to wake up, he can just use you to cum and get on with his day

you, wanting him to use you in your most vulnerable state for his own pleasure, the gentle toying with your clit and ass that you’re not even aware of, the surprised gasp you make once you wake up from him reaching your sweet spot - he loves it all, and every time he does it he takes a few clips so he can show you what you missed

♡ jungsu

he loves the idea of turning you on in your sleep. he doesn’t even necessarily feel the need to fuck you, he just wants to worship your body, kiss you up and down and eventually turn you carefully on your back to use his tongue till you start moaning in your sleep

he does it to make the experience fun for you more than for himself. he thinks you’re adorable when you wake up close to cumming from his fingers with your eyelids heavy, your hair messy and your voice deep and raspy from how sleepy you are; he also enjoys the first few seconds of surprise after you open your eyes and you have trouble getting used to the intense rush that he built in your tummy

♡ jiseok/gaon

you are damn right - cockwarming is one of jiseok’s kinks for multiple reasons, and on days when he’s exhausted from work he loves napping with his cock inside you. sometimes you plan it and that’s how you fall asleep together as he spoons you, but sometimes you fall asleep first and he pulls down your shorts to sneak his erection in letting the warmth of your cunt relax him until he drifts off to sleep too (just to wake up fifteen minutes later and start thrusting till he cums)

he also loves it when you wake him up by sucking his tip or straight up bouncing on his cock. he gets really turned on when you don’t shy away from getting what you want. however, you get to do what you wish to him while he’s asleep, but after he wakes up there’s a high chance he’s turning you over and not being vanilla at all

♡ seungmin/o.de

i see him taking more time to do this with you after you have the talk in comparison to other members perhaps. it’s when he catches you having a wet dream the realisation that this is the perfect moment to try it out hits him. he starts by gently brushing his lips over your shoulder as you sleep on one side, your quiet whimpers make his cock twitch, and his mind curious to know if you’re getting wetter from your dream

he ends up loving it cause the way you clench around him while you’re asleep feels even more exciting; the vulnerability and the intimacy of it is another thing that plays a big part of why he finds it hot

he praises you despite knowing you probably won’t hear the compliments until he slides it in

♡ hyeongjun/junhan

i think he prefers you practicing somno on him. he likes being used for your own personal pleasure, and he finds it exciting knowing you can randomly decide to sit on his cock while he’s asleep

he has a good time giving it to you when he wakes up with a morning wood of course, but the thrill of you playing with it as you wish while he’s still dreaming hits different for him. he loves opening his eyes to you already licking up his pre cum, ready to get yourself off by riding him as quick as possible

♡ jooyeon

if you sleep only in oversized t-shirts or nightgowns (with or without panties) there’s no way the thought of somno hasn’t crossed his mind. often when he catches you sleeping on your tummy with your ass exposed he gets the urge to squish it and push himself in. i won’t be surprised if this is some of his favorite type of porn to watch to be quite honest, i see this as a turn on for him

he loves it even more when he’s the one who’s sleeping. as a passionate lover of lazy sex he enjoys himself to the fullest when he can chill and you do the work. that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t tease you or command you after he wakes up from your mouth around his cock though. if you’re going to disrupt his nap you have to be ready to deep throat him until you’re out of breath and he always lets you know that

[ghastlyfilters]

the valeska twins having a witch s/o!! (or a s/o who loves the concept and idea of witchcraft)

pairing(s): implied jeremiah valeska and jerome valeska x reader

warning(s): absolutely none! but if anyone who reads this doesn’t agree with wicca and bashes it, js leave man 😭

(got this as a little idea because i myself study wicca, and my mother is a grey witch and eclectic. so when i went into town the other day and went into one of my fav wiccan shops, i couldn’t help but think of these two!! also it’s 2am so i’m so sorry for not proof reading this!)

JEROME

• Jerome definitely has no knowledge on witchcraft whatsoever.

• Sure, he knew the whole fortune telling thing from Mr Cicero in the circus and had a few readings from him (back before he knew that was his father) but if you’d have asked him if he believed it, he would have immediately burst into a fit of giggles.

• He doesn’t want to judge you as he’s realised how passionate you are about your beliefs, but he was a little uninterested in learning about the history of it all.

“So you know about Salem, right? The Witch trials?”

“… Salem? Ain’t that where they filmed Hocus Pocus?”

“JEROME!”

• It took a while to get him to take it all in, but you were surprised to find out he actually enjoyed the weeks you spent teaching him on the history of how your beliefs came to be.

• You have to be careful on when you decide to burn incense. If you choose to, make sure Jerome ain’t lurking around. He’s oddly got quite a sensitive nose. So most incense sticks make him sneeze or he either complains about the smell. Shame.

• On nights he feels particularly loopy, he begs you to give him a tarot reading. You were shocked the first time he asked, but you kept putting it off, telling him he had to be in the right mindset for both him and yourself to focus.

• When you DID however give in and do his cards one day, he got the death card, and began to freak out.. not knowing that the death card didn’t necessarily mean death itself.

“DOLL, IF I DIE NOW.. I WANT IT TO BE ON MY OWN TERMS!”

“Jerome that’s not-”

“I HATE THIS.”

• He knocked SEVERAL candles over during that one reading, and when his coat caught on fire.. yeah it was time to stop..

• There’s been days you’ve felt his energy, being the empath that you are. And you know when he’s thinking about his childhood again.

• You asked him if you could do a little something for him with some of your oils, just to perhaps protect him from any negative thoughts that directed back to his past.

• Everytime you light a candle for yourself or others, you have to remind Jerome each time. If you don’t, he’ll just blow it out and walk right past.

• He fucking LOVES your ring collection. There’s a specific ring you have that he finds rather amusing to look at. It’s moonstone, and you’ve found him sitting playing with it on multiple occasions. It really is eye catching.

• His fav crystals are definitely Tiger’s Eye and Lapis Lazuli.

• He had no clue there were different types of witches. Black, grey, white, red, green. And many more.

“What about ginger witches?”

“Well- okay yeah I suppose they exist too..”

• Overall, your beliefs are another quirk that Jerome finds so intriguing about you. He knows that when he’s with you, he’s protected. As you are with him.

JEREMIAH (POST SPRAY)

• Unlike his brother, Jeremiah does actually have some knowledge on witchcraft. Mostly because his adopted family when he was sent away were Christians, and always spoke of Wicca as satanic worship. But Jeremiah wasn’t that stupid.

• He actually showers you with new gifts that you can use for what you do. And he LOVES the scent of incense. So he makes sure you’re stocked up on that at all times.

• Jeremiah actually came forward to you once about something he’d never really been able to talk about to anyone. And he had wondered if you’d be able to make this specific thing go away. Jeremiah had a certain sleep paralysis demon torment him for years, and unfortunately he’d had to grow used to it. But when he figured out there was things you could do to help, he knew to approach you about it.

• He’s very interested in your clairvoyance. You’ve told him about visions you’ve had in dreams, and it’s always intrigued him. But he’s even more surprised when your visions have came to be. Some unwanted, some rather pleasant.

• However, when it comes to readings, he’s a bit cocky. He likes to think he already knows what his future holds.

• Whenever Jeremiah feels awfully run down or fatigued, he enjoys allowing you to rub oils on his temples. This is more often than you’d think. When you tell him to close his eyes, he does so. And the more you try to relax him, the more it gives him the tingles. He actually shivers at the thought of it. He loves it.

• He knows the Mercury Retrograde means a lot to you, so when you insist on having to do your own little private things for that occasion, he doesn’t bother you.

• He’s watched you burning your intentions on little notes from inside of his hideout. He thinks you standing there as the smoke from your small cauldron descends into the night air is quite a beautiful sight.

• Jeremiah used to get awful night terrors in his bunker, and even now he still uses the method you always instructed him to vision. He imagines himself in a mirrored dome, his desires and whatever he values are inside with him. Whatever is on the outside stays on the outside. And anything that’s inside, including himself, is along the mirrors facing the outside. Meaning that the mirrors are a method of not allowing anything else in.

• Yes, Jeremiah is rather private about all of this, but he’s found great comfort in using strategies you’ve taught him. Like Jerome, he feels very protected with you. And you’ve helped him get rid of many things that once stood in his way. But beware. There’s also many things Jeremiah might try and use, that perhaps go a little too far in your books..

YOOOOOO THIS WAS INCREDIBLY FUN TO MAKE!! i know it’s been a while since i last wrote, but i am slowly coming back. so why not start off with the two most memorable we all know and love? <3

[toska-writes]

Jedi Maul has been on the brainnnnn!

“Jedi Knight Maul AU”

Summary: With the idea of Jedi Maul of course knowing me I had to twist it into a Platonic piece! Enjoy these headcannons of Jedi Maul

Pairing: Jedi!Maul AU x GN padawan!Reader (ofc it’s platonic!)

Warning: ummm none really I can think of!

Word Count: 913 (I didn’t proof read lol)

Notes: since I couldn’t find any fics like this I filled in! I swear I’ll get back to doing requests but with school now fully back I do have a little more to do in my free time, whether I like it or not

-if anyone ever messed with or talked bad about his commander or men they definitely have another thing coming

-He gives me very protective dad/older brother vibes but only to his little tight knit circle

-And that would include you soon enough

- I definitely think if this certain AU wasn't set in the clone wars Maul would look for a strong willed padawan to pass his teachings too

-HOWEVER do you know how many bad things you would learn from him??? Mostly likely any swear word from any dialect in the entire galaxy. He would give Wolffe a run for his money for the way he would roll his eyes- and don't get me started on how he would totally blow senators off " in the most polite way"

-except of course the nice senators that want the best for everyone including the clones *cough cough Senator Chunchi my beloved*

-and I just keep thinking of this scene where maybe the both of you are talking to the council or maybe some Sith, and Maul would totally make a quip to you or something to ease the tension

-He would want the absolute best and peace of mind when he can't be right with you on the battlefield, because at the beginning he definitely wanted to be

-Maul definitely isn't the type to verbally encourage you, I think he'd be more of an act of services. Whether that be with a blanket and a shoulder to lean on after a hard battle, or helping you clean and wrap a wound if you don't necessarily want to go to the med bay

-Teaching you have to fly is like doing math homework with a parent at the kitchen counter. However after a few more lessons it is definitely a hobby you like doing together even if there is a little banter

-I can imagine on a far away planet while away for a campaign he may or may not sign you up for a pod race just for some extra credits. Would he cheat?... well it's worth it when he sees you fly around the corner with the rest of the troops cheering like mad men

-Meditating is... something else. He knows how hard it is to just sit. And relax, especially in a time of war. But it seems more bearable with someone else for the both of you

-Maul would take lightsaber and dueling technique training very seriously, it's an art form in his eyes and something that he believes he can excel at so of course it's one of the first things the two of you bond over

-He would want to make sure you are prepared for anything, hand to hand, blasters, lightsaber you name it

-Now let’s say something does go wrong and maybe just maybe you get hurt

-One word would be furious, what ever man or creature did that better say their good byes quickly.

-He’s not one to lose his padawan, or hurt by seppies in that matter

-now let’s be honest he’s pretty intimidating and holds a high standard for everything but when the broken little voice of his padawan says they’re scared- his heart is broken into a million pieces.

-that would probably be the only time where he properly brought his voice down to provide some comfort.

-Also can we talk about how dramatic he would be, maybe your sparing and you jab him in the chest.

-he would definitely grab his chest and look at you stunned saying his own padawan is growing before falling to the ground

-two more words: war crimes. I don’t have to explain and I won’t

-there would be so many different competitions among the ranks, kinda like how Anakin and Ahsoka see who can kill the most droids. Something to make the war seem bearable

-Now if anyone ever found out about these last few parts he’d wither away to nothing

-I would say Maul has something against the cold, he doesn’t like snow or being freezing. And so when it comes time for a cold related planet everyone has to know

-the clones would definitely be making different jokes and such but of course behind closed doors, no one wants a cold upset Maul

-however when it comes time for night Mauls CC definitely let’s him bunk with him

-that’s when the clone cuddle piles with the two Jedi really get started

-there’s just something about being absolutely surround by people you know you can properly trust and they trust you to protect them.

-and I’m more than certain the both of you have probably stolen blankets from the clones barracks

-On sleepless nights you both could probably be found talking about the most random shit that had nothing to do with the raging responsibility. Or even in tougher ones with nightmares Maul would most likely put an arm around you and have you fall asleep there

-My boys trying ok. Being a single father to his padawan with a bunch of crazy uncles

-He tries, maybe one day it’s both of you painting your own fighter or tricking it out, maybe it’s another where it’s all intense training and he carries you back to the temple room

-All in all I think Maul would be a fun interesting master to have!

If you want to see this take the form of an actual fic let me know!!!

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook

[freckled-words]

Animal Transformation

This took way too long, but that tends to happen when you don't have a really strong idea for the plot. I'm also super rusty, but I think I got my swing back towards the end.

Hope you enjoy the read, and let me know if you spot any spelling mistakes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turns out even frost giants have allergies, and it has the funniest effects on a certain trickster’s shapeshifting control.

Or

Darcy watches as Loki loses control of his shapeshifting magic, and she just can't resist a furry face.

“Community service” was the polite term used to describe Loki’s return to Earth.

“Doing whatever the Hell we say” is the more accurate description, as coined by Director Fury during the initial meeting.

Thanks to a curse/spell from Odin, Loki’s magic and strength was moderated by whichever task Loki was assigned to at the time.

When he was sent out to clean up trash in Central Park (disguised and under Natasha’s supervision) he was as strong as an average citizen.

If he went out with the Avengers to deal with a threat, he was allowed just enough magic and strength as was needed to defend himself.

In-between his assignments, and back in the Tower, he was set to about mid-level Godly might (just in case a Hulk suddenly appeared or an accidental arrow went flying his way.) 

The combination of ‘cursed weakness’ and menial labor, unsurprisingly, lead to a consistently pissy Loki. The closest thing Darcy had seen to a smile on him was the trademark smirk, right before he said something snarky.

Even though Darcy hated Loki’s guts for all the death and destruction he’d brought to New York, she also couldn’t stop herself from adding him onto her ‘Take Care List.’ Much to most everyone’s surprise (Jane had long since accepted that Darcy couldn’t help herself.)

She didn’t go out of her way to kneel and curtsey around him or anything, but she did make sure he got a mug of tea or coffee when she was doing the rounds in the morning. As well as a decent portion of food like the other bottomless pits that had to be fed (with Thor back on Earth, the grocery bills knocked up another couple hundred.)

Anytime Loki bothered to acknowledge Darcy, it was never in a polite fashion, and Darcy made sure to give just as good as she got.

“I see Midgardian cuisine is just as lacking as the people.”

“I see your manners didn’t make the trip from Asgard.”

“If you’re going to offer me food, at least make certain it's cooked.”

“Gee why didn’t I think of that? Oh right, dumpster fires don’t get a say in what they get.”

It became something of a routine for them to exchange barbs at least once or twice a day, and by Loki’s second month in residence, the other members in the Tower stopped bracing for Loki to lash out at Darcy.

Darcy just came to accept this as part of her new normal, and rolled with whatever weirdness that came along with it.

Right up until the weirdness took a detour into ‘omg wtf’ territory.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**********~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“...Avengers were seen fighting against what was described as a hoard of mutated bi-pedal flowers.”

Anytime the Avengers were called out for a mission Darcy kept the TV on in the background so she could get updates on what kind of mess she might be helping to clean up later. JARVIS was great for giving her updates on everyone’s physical well being, but he couldn’t necessarily predict how the team’s mood was going to be once they got home.(When there was a HYDRA mission, it was home-made pizza night. Apparently slamming around a massive ball of dough was very therapeutic for Bucky.)

The news being a bit slower than actual events, Darcy wasn’t surprised when JARVIS announced the team was returning in the next 10 minutes, along with a cryptic note of, “No major injuries to report, however Dr.Banner does advise no immediate physical contact.”

The last time JARVIS passed on this kind of note, the Avengers had gone up against a T-Rex made of enchanted septic waste (sometimes D&D nerds manage to get their hands on blackmarket magic, and it never ends well for anyone.)

Having (barely) survived Death-By-Foul-Poo-Stank, Darcy figured her nose could handle some overly strong floral perfume coming from the team’s gear. With Jane’s blessing, she was ready and waiting for them in the kitchen 20 minutes later. She’d brought out multiple boxes of kleenex, a handful of neti pots, and every brand of allergy medication in existence.

The first waft of thick flowery perfume drifted in with Steve, and nearly had her choking as her eyes watered, “Cripes Steve, how is this almost worse than the Fecal-Rex?!” Grabbing a handful of kleenex she blew her nose and dabbed at her eyes.

“Just be lucky you’re getting this, and not the full bouquet. There was every kind of flower there, and everyone but me, Bucky, and Bruce nearly dropped from an immediate allergic reaction.” Steve grabbed one of the neti pots and looked over the instruction card that came with it.

Darcy could just imagine Tony having to flip up his face visor to keep from coating it with his sneezes, while Clint cursed trying to zero in on his target with his eyes burning and watering.

“Wait so even Thor -”

What had to be the loudest sneeze in existence went off, followed by the lights flickering erratically throughout the room.

Thor entered a moment later blowing his nose into a wad of paper towels. The skin around his nose and eyes were bright red, evidence that he’d been rubbing at them for a while already.

“I didn’t think anything on Earth would be able to infect your whole Godly-Alien-Race?” She asked while pushing a box of lotioned kleenex towards him. 

Thor accepted the softer tissues and yanked out ten to hold in his hand, ready for the next sneeze, his voice was congested when he answered, “Nor did we. Banner believes their mutated state amplified their pollen’s properties.” He blew his nose again, and Darcy winced at the sound of his tortured sinuses.

“What about Loki? He’s not human or Asgardian, how is he faring?” Thor had explained his brother’s origins to everyone over drinks the night before Loki had been brought to the tower. A couple members of the team concluded that Loki’s destructive behavior must have been a kind of psychotic break, what with his whole life being flipped upside down and dipped in ice water.

Thor and Steve exchanged a look, one that nearly had them both coughing back a round of laughter.

Squinting Darcy pressed, “What happened to Frosty the Snow Giant? It was something good wasn’t it? Give me the deets ~” She crept closer to Thor, wiggling her fingers towards the box of kleenex as though she were going to snatch it back.

Thor grabbed the box and turned away, his smile spreading, “During the fray, Loki was met with the misfortune of having his entire head swallowed by one of the flowers.”

Steve’s smile curled towards ‘I enjoy trouble’ and added on, “Turns out getting a nose of the stuff is worse than just breathing it in.”

“So Loki is…?” She prompted already knowing the answer had to be good.

“Hiding in his room.” Natasha supplied, slipping around Thor to grab a box of lotioned kleenex herself. Unlike Steve and Thor, she’d gone straight to her room to shower and change into clean clothes.

Images of Loki with a purple rash all over his face, or icicle snot hanging out of his nose popped into Darcy’s mind. 

“Well if he’s feeling that rough, then I’m sure he’d appreciate some tissues and allergy meds. I’m just gonna…” Darcy grabbed the extra strength Benadryl, the last box of lotioned Kleenex and one of the Neti pots.

Her arms full she made a beeline for the elevator, and chose to ignore Steve’s question of, “Is she still safe?”

One quick elevator ride, and a hop-skip down the hallway had Darcy standing in front of Loki’s door. 

Since her hands were full, Darcy called out,“Loki, you in and decent? I’ve got a sniffles care package for you.”

“Go away, Serf.” 

Darcy rolled her eyes. ‘Serf’ was Loki’s default nickname when he couldn’t be bothered to think of a better insulting name. 

Even through the door she could hear the rapid fire sneezes that followed, as well as a muffled cough. 

“You can either let me in, and choose what state of dress you’re in, or JARVIS opens the door and I get to see just how much of a rash you have on your ass right now.” It was a shallow bluff at best, but she couldn’t just walk away without trying first.

The annoyed noise that traveled through the door sounded an awful lot like a growl, more so than the usual one she was able to get out of him when she pushed his buttons.

A second later the door opened.

Biting down on her lips to try and not smile too smugly Darcy marched in, “Good choice Frosty. You’ll thank me later when you’re not missing three layers of ski…nnnnyah?” 

With all the apartments in the tower having the same layout Darcy had gone straight for Loki’s small living room to place her bundle on the coffee table. 

She’d glimpsed Loki from the corner of her eye as she’d breezed into the room, and hadn’t spotted any bright red or pink on him. When she straightened and faced him properly, her brain and mouth had a disconnect. 

Loki still stood by the door, which he was still holding open, his battle gear was gone and his hair was damp from his shower. Like Thor the skin around his nose was chaffed from blowing, and his eyes slightly puffy, and for reasons that Darcy’s brain couldn’t fathom there were two black, white tipped fuzzy ears on his head and a twitching, fluffy, black, white tipped fox tail peeking out from his back. 

“Uhhhhhh….” 

“Make your jokes, then leave.” Even congested Loki’s tone was clear in his frustration.

Darcy held her hands up, “Hey there’s no shaming here, just confusion. Last time I checked, allergies didn’t turn people into furries.”

“I am not…” He broke into a fit of sneezes, “Whatever nonsense term that is. I’ve simply…” More sneezing, “Been struggling with my Seidr.”

Darcy hummed and nodded, not really understanding but didn’t think it smart to push him into a more in-depth explanation. His sneezes were so close together and harsh, she was getting worried about the amount of air he was getting into his lungs.

“Regardless, maybe some meds will help. I suggest taking like, 4 of the Benadryl. If it works it’ll knock you on your ass, but it’ll also stop the sneezing and congestion.” She was making her way towards the door as she spoke and stopped just by the opening, “Any chance I can-” She reached towards his twitching tail.

“Leave.”

“I’ll come check on ya in a couple hours!” As badly as Darcy wanted to touch the fluffy tail, she was not ready to die for the attempt.

~~~~ THREE HOURS LATER ~~~~~~~~

Darcy juggled the three tupperware containers of food in one arm while she did her best to knock with the other, “Loki you good? I’ve got food.”

She didn’t hear any approaching footsteps, and was startled when the door was opened.

Darcy barely got clear of the door before Loki shut it. Turning to face him, she just about dropped the food.

“I can’t tell if this means the Benadryl helped or not.” She offered as an opening for him to explain.

Loki still had the ears and tail, but now there was fur around the edges of his face, covering his hands and feet, his nails had blackened into claws, and there were definitely whiskers growing out of his cheeks.

Loki blinked down at her, his nose twitched (was he about to sneeze or was he testing her scent?) and she saw something shift in his mind as his pupils widened then shrank, he blinked and his usual scowl returned to his face, “How did you get in here?”

Darcy cocked her head to the side, “You let me in, just now, and almost hit me with the door. Did fur grow inside your brain too? Do I need to call Bruce?”

Her concern crossed from surface level to genuine as she watched Loki look down at his hands and wiggle his clawed fingers, his expression was hard to read with his eyebrows blending into his new furry hairline but she was certain he was looking confused himself. “Damn.” The word was uttered so quietly Darcy might have missed it if she weren’t standing so close.

“Loki, you’re seriously worrying me dude.” Again his ears twitched in her direction.

“I’m touched.” Darcy took the dry sarcasm as a good sign, “The only thing you should be concerned about is keeping your blithering trap shut. It was bad enough when it was just the ears and tail. If The Oaf hears of this, there will be no end to his ridicule.”

The more Loki said, the more Darcy relaxed. It was a sad reflection on her life when she was happy to have the mass murdering alien give her a hard time.

Opting to ignore his bluff (she’d long since realized that he could bark all he wanted, if he ever hurt her he’d immediately be kicked back to Asgard) Darcy went to his kitchen and put down the tupperware containers, “Don’t worry your fuzzy little head, I won’t tell anyone…” Faster than Loki could anticipate, she whipped up her phone and snapped a picture, “I will show everyone though, unless you let me touch your ears or tail.” She shoved her phone down the front of her shirt and between her boobs, uncaring of the extra cleavage she was flashing him in the process.

Loki’s upper lip drew back revealing some rather pointy canines, “Impudent wench.”

Darcy smirked as she rocked on her heels, “Oh come on Fuzz Butt, you can’t tell me no one’s ever wanted to see what your transformed fur feels like.”

“None have ever been so brazen or foolish to try.” Loki bit back. He was becoming so agitated his tail was swishing, and his ears had flattened on his head.

‘Dammit, now he’s just looking cute.’ 

He was also looking a little unsteady. With each swish of his tail, Loki wobbled the slightest bit, and his eyelids seemed to be struggling to stay open.

“How many of those Benadryl did you end up taking?” She hadn’t heard him sneeze once since she came in, and the skin around his nose and eyes had returned to normal.

“The four you recommended had no effect, so I added another five. The sneezing stopped just before…” Loki caught himself before he could finish outing himself. Shaking his head he staggered off towards the couch, “Leave Serf. I require rest.”

She really, really wanted to push her luck and remind him about the whole Fuzzy Picture threat, but it wasn’t as much fun if the other member of the party was spiraling towards a crash. Cause damn, NINE?! If one Benadryl was enough to turn a regular human into a zombie, then nine must be bordering on a coma.

“Fine, but don’t think this isn’t over. I’ll come back in an hour and make sure you’re still breathing.” 

She saw a feeble, black fuzzy hand lift up to acknowledge he’d heard her.

Darcy left but made sure to leave the door unlocked. Quietly she called out, “JARVIS keep an eye on his vitals and let Bruce or Thor know if his heart stops or something.”

“Of course Ms.Lewis…Shall I let you know when it’s been an hour?” 

Unsurprised that JARVIS had been listening in on the conversation in Loki’s room, Darcy gave a thumbs up to the nearest camera she could see, “That’d be great J.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 45 MINS LATER ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ms.Lewis, I thought I should inform you that there has been a change in Prince Loki’s condition.” Darcy tried not to cringe too much from having JARVIS say this directly into her bluetooth headphones (a welcoming gift from Tony.)

Glancing over to where she could see Bruce working at his station she figured this wasn’t a life threatening change to Loki’s condition. Not many realized just how much intelligence Tony’s AI had, but Darcy was no fool. She grew up worshiping the internet, and treating ‘The Matrix’ and ‘The Terminator’ like prophecies. 

If JARVIS thought this was something only she needed to know about then she’d take it as the gift that it was.

A quick elevator ride later and she was back at his door.

She knocked lightly and let herself in, “Loki? JARVIS says you might need help.”

There came a slight whimper (or was that a whine?) from the living room.

This late in the afternoon the sunlight had moved away from Loki’s windows, and none of the lights had been turned on. Everything was cast in shadows and patches of darkness, making it hard to see anything.

“Loki?” 

Darcy hit the switch for the kitchen light so she didn’t accidentally blind/enrage the half-transformed frost giant.

Able to see Darcy watched as what she had initially thought to be a deep pocket of shadows uncurled from the bottom of the coffee table. 

A black fox the size of a St.Bernard stretched out like a cat as unfocused green eyes blinked in her direction.

“Oh my Gods.” 

She wanted to take all the pictures, but she also wanted to try touching him. When he was still humanoid the fur had looked silky, as a full fox it looked absolutely luxurious and Darcy just had to get her fingers into it.

She had never interacted with foxes before though, and didn’t know how unhinged Loki’s brain was going to be with all that Benadryl in his system.

Finished stretching he ventured a couple steps closer, his nose to the air to scent the new presence in his home. Some of Loki’s consciousness must have been working, cause the fox’ ears went down and it spun around to hop onto the couch.

‘I’ve just been brushed off by a fox.’ Loki could brush her off a million times and she wouldn’t bat an eye, but Fox-Loki showing her such little interest just felt like a bitch slap.

“Rude.” 

Going over to the couch she watched as Loki laid down with his head resting between his two front paws. His eyes closed and a rather un-fox like sigh came out through his nose. 

Darcy crouched down to eye level and told him, “You know you make a very pretty fox.” Other than his ear twitching Loki didn’t acknowledge her.

“May I please pet you, your Foxiness?” Murderous Asshole or not, Darcy wasn’t going to touch without consent. 

His eye cracked open, regarding her for a moment then closed and another long sigh was released. Darcy took it as one of resignation and beamed. Finally she could get this out of her system!

As gently as she could she placed her hand on his head; he didn’t move away or twist around to snap at her, confirming that he had given in. 

She stroked down along his spine, marveling at the feel of his thick, silky fur. Bringing her hand back to his head she lightly scratched around the base of his ears, the fur there was much softer and she had to bite her lip to keep from gushing out more praises to him. 

Her petting was kept strictly to his back and the top of his head, areas that most animals considered to be safe zones. As much as she wanted to touch his tail she didn’t know how sensitive it was and didn’t want to push it. 

Darcy cut herself off after about five minutes, plus her legs were screaming in protest from holding that crouched position so long. 

A woman of her word Darcy dug out her phone and deleted the picture of Loki the Were-Fox. Satisfied she whispered to Loki, “There now no one but me and JARVIS knows what a half fox, half Frost Giant looks like. I also won’t tell anyone that you totally lost control due to overdosing on allergy medicine. You’ll be back to your entitled asshole self by tomorrow morning.”

This got her a small indignant huff. 

Darcy let herself out and made sure the door locked behind her. 

It was only after the door’s lock had clicked that Loki released his animal shape. It took a bit slower than usual, but he wasn’t quite back in focus just yet. 

Back in his usual form he resettled on the couch. With not a single piece of clothing on his body, the material didn’t feel quite as comfortable as it had in his fox shape. 

The Midgardian medicine had thrown his control off balance, just not as much as he’d let Lewis believe. He could have reverted back to his proper state a half hour ago, and gone back to his bed for a proper rest. 

Instead he couldn’t resist seeing what the woman would do when faced with the full transformation. He’d been somewhat hoping she would startle or scream and flee, calling for Thor’s protection. Instead she’d looked at him like he was the most beautiful animal in existence. It was a delicious boost to his ego.

Loki chuckled to himself, picturing her face when she might learn that her ‘petting’ along his fur had translated to the feeling of a lover’s touch on his skin. 

There would be sputtering, possibly some shrieking and all the threats and profanities. 

The image was so entertaining he drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face. 

[adiluv-moved]

❥ SEER + HOMEMAKER SPOUSE HCS. ˚⊹꒷

🍞୧・꒰word count꒱ 1230.

🌼୧・꒰warnings꒱ takes place pre-manor, possibly ooc.

🍮୧・꒰adi moment꒱ request here! these were originally supposed to be combined into one post, though i decided to split them since they ended up full length regardless, lol. i had a lot of fun writing this, i think it's a super adorable scenario! hope you enjoy! ꒰ ´͈ ᵕ `͈ ꒱

you can find naib's version here!

꒰🦉꒱・Eli is honestly such a huge softie, and—in my honest opinion—would be one of the more doting husbands out of the entirety of the Identity V cast. He absolutely adores you, a sentiment that he’s never hesitated to make known ꒰whether it be to you or anybody within a five mile radius꒱, and you just can’t help but adore him all the same. The poor man was probably even scouring his visions to try and figure out what married life would be like before the wedding, if it gives you any sort of insight into how in love with you he is. And, since he did go through with it, I think it’s safe to say that he enjoyed what he saw!

꒰🦉꒱・I believe that Eli would also be the type to enjoy living in a cottage outside of the city, though not exactly for the same reasons that Naib may prefer to. Of course, while some of his motivation does relate to his desire to give you a space to decorate to your heart's content—he just loves how cute your personal style is—he’s also… just a big fan of how cozy and quaint it is. The city has its charms, of course, though he’d much rather live more peacefully beside you, away from the ‘rise and grind’ lifestyle. Even still, I’d say that your cottage would probably be quite close to the city, as it would be far more convenient for the both of you.

꒰🦉꒱・For the most part, although he does enjoy keeping your company, he fully trusts you to take care of yourself, seeing no need to try and restrict your personal freedoms. You’re your own person, after all. I don’t exactly see him as the type to become jealous ꒰that easily꒱ or overly worrisome, so he’s very much alright with letting you do whatever you’d like to—just as long as the two of you communicate with each other. His abilities as a seer, which he’d been open about with you since the beginning of your relationship, provide an extra sense of protection—even if he’s unable to tell you about the future that he foresees.

꒰🦉꒱・Although he’s forbidden to inform anybody about the events that he foresees within his visions, he’s come to realize that he can still take steps to act against it. After all, what he sees references a possible future—not necessarily the one that’s already set in stone. As such, any and all attempts to sway the outcomes of events are done incredibly precisely and subtly, years of having to keep the details of these prophecies secret giving him an incredible edge. 

꒰🦉꒱・Most of the time, you don’t even know that he’s acting on his foresight, only realizing afterwards whenever he becomes extra cuddly with you. What better way to celebrate the aversion of a potential disaster than snuggling up with your loved one, right? In the case that you do notice, however, it’s quite easy to confirm your suspicions. You love your husband, you really do—but any and all attempts of lying to you are quickly rendered useless by the small expression of guilt that appears on his face. He’s just… not a fan of lying to you, really.

꒰🦉꒱・He walks a very fine line when it comes to his duties as a seer and his duties as Eli, his decisions to counteract any bad omens sometimes already putting him at risk for ‘punishment’—whatever that punishment may be. And while he may not always spare you the full extent of his stakes ꒰he’d hate to scare you, after all꒱, he’s eternally grateful that he was able to meet you somewhere along the journey of his life. Powers be damned—this man is absolutely head over heels for his spouse!

꒰🦉꒱・Eli’s paycheck isn’t quite as large as Naib’s, a combination of factors having to blame for such circumstances. While you might’ve initially assumed that he’d be loaded—believing that he could easily make a fortune on telling people their fortunes—his restrictions keep that from being a viable option. Not to mention that there’s already many self-proclaimed seers running along, though Eli always says that they rely more on smooth-talking their clients than actually using any sort of foresight.

꒰🦉꒱・His preferred method of acquiring money is usually through picking up smaller jobs that interest him—with his visions helping him realize when certain opportunities are better than others. Simple manual labor, or perhaps even acting as a helping hand for somebody in need—he’s a firm believer in helping those that are less fortunate than him, and it’s something that he takes a great amount of pride in. The only downside is that some jobs require him to leave the house for days at a time, though he does his best to get back to you as soon as possible.

꒰🦉꒱・Although the both of you may not be able to shop until your heart’s content ꒰not that I see Eli being much of a big spender, regardless꒱he does quite enjoy saving up money in order to surprise you with gifts. Just like many things within his life, his visions do tend to come in handy for this sort of thing, especially considering that all he needs to do is pick up a gift in order to figure out whether or not you’d enjoy it. Throughout all of the time that you’ve known him—whether it be as friends, lovers, or spouses, there hasn’t been a singular instance of him gifting you something you’ve disliked.

꒰🦉꒱・On the other hand, however, shopping for Eli tends to be a far more strenuous task—though not for the reason that you might expect. You know what to get him, and that he’d really just love anything, so long as you chose it for him out of the goodness of your heart… But you also know that you’ll never be able to keep it a secret from him. It’s a little sad, you think, that he knows what’s beneath the wrapping paper before it’d even been wrapped. He’ll at least try to pretend that he’s oblivious, feeling the gift and making some purposefully incorrect guesses before opening it. It’s a small gesture, but it really means a lot to him.

꒰🦉꒱・A big fan of cuddling, a fact that's remained constant throughout the entirety of your relationship—though I don’t quite see him as having a preference for being the big or little spoon. Truthfully, he’s just happy to be there. Do you want him to hold you? Sure! You won’t even have to let him know when you need to get up, he’s already retracting his arms to let you take care of whatever it is that came up! Do you want to hold him? Absolutely! He’s eagerly walking over to you before the words even leave your mouth!

꒰🦉꒱・And, of course, it’s impossible to leave out Brooke! Although she’d take some time to warm up to you when you’d started dating Eli, she becomes very affectionate once she finally does. She’ll allow you to pet and hold her, even abandoning her post on Eli’s shoulder to come and sit on yours—so long as he’s not going out for the day. She’ll even flutter around and try to help you with any chores, something that you deeply appreciate—though she will steal any food that you’ve cooked. The three of you really are just a happy family! 

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[cjsoleil]

Straight From the Tortured Poets Department (Bang Chan x Reader)

Authors note: This is part two of a two part series, part one is right here. You don’t necessarily need to read the first one, but I recommend you do. Enjoy.

Time had gone by quicker than Chan and Y/N would have liked. If Chan wasn’t sure about the girl before, he certainly is now. He met her parents a little less than a month after they started dating, something Chan had been dreading. It was bad enough that he came from next to nothing and only had a shit job at a bar, but not meeting them before dating Y/N must not be doing him any favors.

It’s embarrassing, how nervous he was sitting across from her parents. Living under the circumstances he does, it’s safe to say he’s been in a number of stressful, nerve wracking situations. Despite this, he’s never been more anxious than at that moment.

It was a little out of the blue when Y/N had mentioned that since her parents were back in town, so he had to meet them. When he joked and told her she should give more of a warning, he found that it was unexpected for her too. She didn’t plan on telling her parents about Chan right away, but plans changed the day after her parents came back to town.

“So, what boy have you been hanging out with?” Y/N had nearly spit out her tea when she heard the question.

“What?”

“Marie said you’ve been spending some time with a boy.” Her mom called from the kitchen. Y/N simmered in the question for a bit, and wondered however Marie found out about her and Chan. She had thought back to when San saw her at the drive in and it becomes much more clear. San, despite not seeming like one, is a gossiper. He probably told the boy he always hangs out with, Wooyoung she believes his name is. And word spread as quickly as a forest fire. Luckily, they did not act outrageously. Though she actually had to introduce Chan to them now.

It went better than Chan thought it would. There was no yelling about how a man like him is unworthy of being in their daughter’s sight, and other than the threatening undertone her father had every time they spoke, he’s pretty sure Y/N’s parents kinda like him. Well, her mom likes him at least. On another note, Chan did get lucky. Y/N’s father had handed him a card, confusing him at that moment.

“Tell the secretary at front desk you are meeting me. Be there at noon on Monday. If you’re a minute late, don’t bother.” Chan had been speechless, reading the card. Y/N has never mentioned her father’s business before, so he wasn’t aware that he works at a famous publishing company.

Wait, not work. Owns.

Chan always knew Y/N’s family has money. It drips off the diamonds hanging on her ears and covering her wrists. Still he didn’t think her family was so rich.

Chan thanked the man profusely, repeating and repeating his gratitude so many times it must have been annoying. The company has published a number of works by his favourite artists and offers him a career he would never be able to get otherwise. Chan does not have any education, he never even finished high school. Originally he was concerned about this, but after expressing his worries to Y/N they disappeared.

“Chan dear, that doesn’t matter. He wouldn’t have offered you a job if you couldn’t do it.” Chan didn’t have any more concerns after that.

Y/N’s parents are gone again, her father needing to go to one of the department branches. Her mom always goes with him. That leaves the house to Y/N and Chan. Y/N has only been to Chan’s place once. It’s located in a less than safe area and Chan firmly believes his girl has no business being in such a place. It is a tad overprotective of him, but it can’t be helped.

The two watch a movie on Y/N’s tv. It’s some love story. Chan has never cared for them, but Y/N loves them. So they watch on as the man on screen sets up an elaborate scene to propose to his girlfriend.

“Quite obnoxious isn’t it?” Y/N comments from her spot under Chan’s arm. He looks over to her as he raises his hand to undo Y/N’s hair. She wears it up a lot more often now.

“You’re not into grand gestures?”

“That’s not what I said.” Chan runs his fingers through the girl’s hair, “Though I believe they’re unnecessary.”

“They can be sweet.” Is all Chan says, glancing over at the screen to see the male lead on his knee and the woman yelling yes.

Once the movie is over the two went upstairs to Y/N’s room. Chan is captivated by her collections. Shelves full with records and books.

“I never took you for a hoarder.” Chan comments, making the girl reach over and slap his shoulder, “You take good care of these.”

“Of course.” Y/N sits on her bed, and Chan picks a record, putting it on the record player. Music floods the room and he sits next to the girl.

“So anything special we’re going to do before you go?” Y/N hums, barely wanting to think about how she’s leaving town in a few weeks.

“Everything is special with you Chan dear.” She says it sickenly sweet without a hint of sincerity. He laughs and grabs her face softly, squishing her cheeks.

“You’re such a doll.”

Chan shakes Y/N’s face side to side before leaning in and kissing her pursed lips. It starts as one kiss, then two, and then Chan is holding Y/N’s face in his hands whilst kissing her passionately.

“I think I know.” Y/N whispers when Chan pulls away, nervously looking to the side, “A special thing we can do.” Chan takes a moment to process her words, before his eyes widen.

“Babydoll.” He practically groans the nickname, leaning in and kissing the girl quickly again, “Are you sure?” They have shared many passionate moments, but never went close into… that territory.

“We can wait til marriage- or longer if that’s what you want. Or never. Don’t worry about what you think I want, I only want you to be comfortable.” Y/N smile grows larger as she listens to Chan’s spiel. She places both of her hands on his shoulder, leaning forward.

“Sweetheart.” She stops his rant, “Why would I ask if I didn’t want to?” Patting his face, she leans away and he can clearly see how red her face is, “Wait until marriage? That’s so far away, is it not?”

“It doesn’t have to be.” Chan lifts Y/N’s left hand and kisses where the ring will be, “I’d marry you tonight if you wanted.”

“What would my parents think? Their daughter getting married without their knowledge.”

“And having sex out of wedlock is much better?” He laughs as Y/N makes an embarrassed sound and looks away from him.

“Don’t be so blunt.” It only makes him grin harder.

“Didn’t you just try to seduce me?”

“I didn’t- I-“ She sputters and Chan can’t help but press a hard kiss against her cheek.

“Now, to be serious.” He holds both her hands, “Is this something you really want?” “Do you love me Chan?” “More than words can ever express.” “So yes. I do want it.” He sighs, rubbing his thumbs over the back of her hands with a smile.

“It will hurt. I don’t want it to, but I fear it can’t be helped.”

“What is love without pain?”

“That’s a common misconception.” Chan says, “My love should never hurt you.” Placing a soft kiss at the corner of Y/N’s mouth, he starts to trail down to her jaw and neck. He gives a soft bite to the place below her ear before whispering to her, “So let me ask again. Are you sure?” Y/N’s faint whisper of ‘yes’ is all he needs to hear.

Chan grabs her face and brings her lips to his, hand going through her hair. He hears the girl hum when he bites her lower lip, and forces his tongue inside her mouth. Y/N has to physically push him away when she runs out of air, but he stays close. He moves to the side of her neck, one hand on her thigh. When her skirt starts to ride up, Y/N grabs his hand.

“Sorry.” Y/N smiles sheepishly as Chan pulls away, “Just instinct I guess.” He smiles softly.

“What else?” He tilts his head as she mumbles her answer, cute. “Hm?”

“I’m… embarrassed.”

“Of what? Your body?” He practically scoffs at the damn idea. Faster than Y/N can process, she is lifted to sit sideways on Chan’s lap.

“You can leave your clothes on, if that’s what you want. But don’t do it because you’re embarrassed or ashamed or for some stupid reason like that.” A kiss on one of the red marks on her neck. Since Chan’s hand was released upon placing the girl in her lap, he moves his hand up her thigh. Slowly so he can be stopped. He’s not. His hand reaches the fabric of her underwear and neither can hear the music playing anymore. Chan feels Y/N tense.

“Relax.” He tilts his head and brings the girl into a kiss in a attempt to sway her attention. He slips his hand into the fabric, swallowing her gasp.

As tempted as Chan is, he decides against dipping his finger inside just yet. Instead he lets his fingertips wander, smirking when Y/N lets out a cute little sound. After a while, he pulls his hand from under her skirt. The girl in his lap breathes heavily and Chan grins upon seeing what a effect he has on her.

“That’s nothing babydoll. Poor thing, you really don’t know what you’re in for.” He looks back at his fingers, a shine on them. Making eye contact with Y/N, he smirks before bringing his fingers to his own mouth, licking the wetness off of them and moaning at the taste.

Y/N is absolutely mortified, wishing she could close her eyes but her mind won’t let her. The heat pooling in her stomach is nearly unbearable and every time Chan opens his stupid mouth it gets worse. His deep and raspy voice sends a shiver down her spine. The smirk he wears reminds Y/N of the devil he truly is, rather than the darling she is used to.

Y/N lets out a little shout when Chan suddenly stands. Chan drops her on the bed and climbs on top of her. He cages her head with his elbows and rests his forehead on hers.

“Hey.” He whispers.

“Hi.” She squeaks back.

“You okay?” She nods and when she says ‘yes’ he sits up. He smiles, and his hands start to go up her legs. Slowly, he pulls down her underwear and throws them to the side. He moves down and rests between the girl’s legs. Leaning upwards on her elbows, she looks down at Chan.

“What are you-“

“You trust me baby?” He interrupts before she can ask anything more, “Yes or no, Y/N.”

“Of course I do. Yes, but what-“ Y/N cuts herself off with a moan and her arms collapse, falling back on the bed. The feeling is gone after a moment and she is left wondering what the hell that was.

“What-“ She is cut off again, and for a split second she sees Chan’s head nearly disappeared under her skirt. He pulls back, running his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Fuck, that’s good.”

Folding the skirt up to Y/N’s hips, Chan returns to his spot. He licks directly over her hole before dipping the tip of his tongue inside. The girl gets louder. She’s never felt like this before. Chan swearing almost made her legs shake, he’s never done that in front of her before. On instinct, Y/N grabs Chan’s hair in her hands and tries to push him away. She doesn’t get away with it, as Chan grabs both hands and pins them on the bed.

“Be a good girl.” And he presses her hands into the mattress slightly for good measure before letting go. This time, he grabs both of Y/N’s legs and rests them on his shoulders. He keeps a strong hold on her thighs and goes back down. Rather than just the tip, he forces most his tongue into her hole, making her cry out.

“Channie!” She clenches the blankets, moan after moan being forced from her lips as Chan dips his tongue inside her, licks and sucks at her clit. Occasionally he will let out a moan of his own, Y/N feels the vibration in her bones. She doesn’t know why he’s doing so though, since this can’t possibly be doing anything to make him feel good. She doesn’t think that hard about it. She can’t really think about anything other than Chan. Unknow to her, Chan is truly having the time of his fucking life eating his girl.

Suddenly a near scream like noise fills the room, and Y/N barely registers that the sound came from her. Chan had put two fingers inside her without warning, kissing her clit. “Oh- oh my god Chan.” She whines and he lifts his head just to show her a dangerous smirk. His mouth is wet and oh this is so embarrassing.

“Isn’t that nice?” He scissors his fingers, “Don’t you feel good?” Y/N doesn’t give a proper and he clearly doesn’t appreciate that, sucking her clit hard, making her cry out. “Words doll.”

“Good.” She pants out moving a hand to pet Chan’s head. He lets her, “So good Channie.” She yells out his name again when he adds another finger. Chest rapidly rising and falling as she tries to catch her breath.

“Fucking hell, you’re so pretty. Pretty girl.” His fingers curl inside her and something about it is different, it makes Y/N grip Chan’s hair so hard tears may have been brought to his eyes while she brings up her other arm and bites down on her forearm to cover up the much to loud sound that comes out of her. “Oh you like that baby?” Chan moves his fingers to touch that spot again, making her whine, “Yeah, I know you do.”

After a few minutes of torment, Chan moves up the bed to kiss Y/N’s lips, up her jaw and to her temple. He moves his thumb to replace where his mouth was previously. It brings a burning feeling to her stomach and her whole body tenses. Y/N reaches out to hold Chan’s wrist and push him away. This time, Chan doesn’t bother moving her hands, the weak pressure on his wrist doing nothing to faze him.

“Chan- Chan I feel-“ The sentence is not finished, the girl shoving her face in the pillow under her head. “What is it?” Chan forces her to look at him with a hand to her chin, “Tell me.” “Feels weird.” Y/N mumbles with a lack of better words to describe it. Chan laughs lightly. “Weird, you say?” He leans down to Y/N’s ear, his whispered words sounding like shouts, “Do you feel like you’re burning baby? Like you’re being held over a fire and forced to feel nothing but the flames kissing your skin?” He places a barely there kiss on her earlobe, leaving her skin red and hot, “Or are you overwhelmed? Are you drowning, with nothing but pure desperation rushing through your vains to get what you need?”

Not a single word was registered by the girl on the bed, Chan knows. He still only smiles as he moves his fingers faster, grabbing her face again to get her attention. “Be a good girl and let it go, I got you.” And Y/N is pulled into a completely different world. At least that’s what it feels like.

Her grip on Chan’s wrist slackens, and he pulls his hand away to see indents of her nails on his wrist. Not that it matters. He focuses on running his clean hand through her hair and dries his other one using the bedsheets.

When Y/N can finally force herself to speak, she doesn’t really know what to say. So the first thing that comes to mind is what is spoken, “That was nice.” In a single second Chan bursts into laughter, leaning his head down onto her shoulder. “Yeah it was.” He agrees, “That was your first time cumming?” Y/N face turns an even darker shade of red as she nods. Chan didn’t have to ask, he just wanted to get an answer. It boosts his ego, being the first and only person to ever make his girl feel like this, “You ready for more?” “There’s more?” Chan can’t tell if she’s being serious but even Y/N doesn’t know. Her eyes are drawn downwards to the front of Chan’s pants and there’s a lot more.

Chan first takes off his shirt, and the sight of his bare torso is not an unfamiliar one to Y/N. He runs hot, and often is not wearing a shirt when they are alone. Still, Y/N can never resists running her fingers along the outline of his chest, down to his stomach and over his abs. While his torso is something the sculptors in Paris can only dream of having as a muse, it’s really Chan’s arms that get her going. Large and muscular, showing just how easy it is for him to throw her around when he wants to. His pants are next, along with his boxers. Y/N refused to look, keeping her eyes on Chan’s face. His hands go up to Y/N’s shirt asking softly if it was alright for him to take it off. The answer is yes, all embarrassment regarding Chan seeing her body gone after what he has just done. Soon, the two are left naked on the bed.

“Stop staring at me.” “An impossible task, beautiful.” Y/N rolls her eyes and lets out a gasp when she feels Chan’s tip inside her. “This is the painful part, but I promise I’ll go slow. Feel free to punch me if you want.” Chan starts to push in and hell it does hurt. Despite being stretched out, Chan’s big, and it hurts. Background to the pain is an undertone of pleasure, and Y/N keeps her hand covering her mouth to muffle her sounds. “Shit. Shit, you feel so good.” Chan moans and presses his lips to her neck. He lets out a small whimper as he unconsciously thrusts forward, bottoming out, “Just- hm- tell me when you’re ready.” He kisses down her neck to her collar bone and top of her chest as he waits for Y/N to ready herself, “I know it hurts. Your body is not familiar with mine, but it will recognize me after tonight. It will understand I belong right here.” He finds one of her hands and interlock their fingers.

A few moments pass, and Y/N taps his shoulder “You-you can move.” Chan smiles and lifts himself up a little, not before pressing a long kiss against Y/N’s lips. “Hold onto me.” Y/N nods and rests her hands on the man’s shoulder blades. He starts slow, sweet as he gently rocks his hips. Soon though, Y/N is tapping her hands on his back and is asking, begging him to give her more. “You want me to fuck you harder, hm?” Y/N moans louder at his word choice. Chan never talks like that in front of her. Always one to behave in front of a lady, like he loves to say. “Please Chan.” Chan smirks, saying something about how his girl is so polite before he starts to pull out completely and thrusting hard.

Y/N scratched up Chan’s back, not having enough conscious to consider that it may be hurting him. Chan welcomes the sting though, he kind of hopes they scar. A physical claim for her to make on him. “It’s amazing, you know?” A particularly hard movement, “Every gasp, every moan. You create poetry without saying a single word. What a talent.”

“Chan. Channie.” She moans out and pushes Chan down to meet her for a kiss. Tears fill her eyes and threaten to fall since she feels so much more sensitive now. He pulls away and kisses the corners of Y/N’s eyes. Sweet, a drastic contrast to how he’s moving. After a few attempts, Chan finds an angle that hits Y/N’s spot, making her muffle a scream in her pillow. “Please more, Chan Chan-“

“Fuck.” Chan clenches his jaw when Y/N tightens around him, feeling just on the edge of release. With a grunt, he wraps his arms around Y/N, one hand holding the back of her head and the other at her lower back as he picks her up. Chan settles her in his lap and doesn’t give her any time to even process the sudden change in position as he grounds himself on the bed and thrusts up into her. Grabbing her waist, Chan pushes Y/N down as he thrusts up, making him go in deeper. “Come on babydoll. Come for me.” Arms wrap around his neck, Chan feels her bite his shoulder and tighten around him, “Atta girl.”

When Y/N comes down from her high, Chan gently pulls out and kisses her, letting her stay seated in his lap. “Chan you didn’t, um…” Y/N doesn’t finish her sentence, blood rushing to her face as Chan stares at her with a smile. He looks a mess, hair messed up, a bite mark on his shoulder and scratch marks on his arms. If he looks like that, she can only imagine how she herself looks. “I don’t think we should start a family until we’re married.” Chan kisses close to the middle of Y/N’s chest, where her heart lies under skin, muscle and bones. “Well-yes, I agree but I mean… can I help you?”

Chan blushes at that moment, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Do you want to?” Y/N affirms that she does, “Okay.” He pecks her lips, “Touch me baby.” Y/N brings her hand to Chan’s chest, kissing his shoulder as her hand goes downwards until her fingertips make contact with Chan’s cock. She touches him carefully, too nervous to do anything more. “Wrap your hand around me.” Y/N obeys, holding Chan in her hand. Chan moans loudly, jerking his hips, he doesn’t know how the fuck he managed to not come inside her earlier, “Shit. Fuck yes, that’s good honey. Move your hand a bit- yeah just like that.” Y/N barely needs to do anything before Chan is cumming, groaning into her neck.

When he feels alive again, Chan wipes off Y/N’s hand and his own stomach with the bed sheet before lying down, bringing Y/N with him. “Are you sure you don’t want to get married tonight?” Chan asks and a laugh echos through the room, over the music playing on the record player, “Ah Nevermind. I don’t have a ring yet.” “Maybe when I come home for the holidays.” “A winter wedding sounds lovely.”

Standing at the train station together, Chan thinks that maybe this was a fraction of the feeling military wives felt while sending their husbands off to war. Not the same, because there is no fear that Y/N will not be coming back, but the point still stands.

“Have you ever been on a train, Chan dear?” “Yes. But not the formal way.” That makes Y/N look at him with a confused expression,

“I used to train hop.” The girl nods looking forward towards the tracks. The autumn wind has just started to come out, messing up both their hair. The sun is setting, giving a warm golden hue to the world around them. “I’m sorry your parents weren’t able to make it.” Y/N shrugs, it’s not a big problem to her. “It’s alright. You’re here.” “Forever.” A voice rings through the speakers, announcing that the next train will arrive soon. “That’s me.” Y/N looks towards Chan, “You gonna miss me Channie?” “Not at all.” He pulls Y/N into a hug as she laughs at him, “I feel as if you are going to war.” Y/N pulls back from their hug, but stays close enough for Chan’s arms to remain around her waist. “School is not quite the same as a battle field.” “Either way, I will miss you just as much.”

Y/N has to look away from him when she feels her eyes water, “Hey, hey. Come here.” Chan wraps his arms around her from behind, swaying as they stand facing the horizon. Normally, Y/N would never allow Chan to display such affection in public, as it isn’t appropriate to do so. This time though, she lets it happen for both their sakes. “You know, one love the sunset when they are sad.” Y/N smiles upon hearing the reference. “Why is that?” “Many different reasons. Maybe because it marks the end, because it brings tomorrow just a little bit closer.” Chan rests his chin on Y/N’s head, “Or maybe it’s because the sky is beautiful at this time.”

They watch the sky until another train arrives. Y/N doesn’t have to say a word as she turns around just for Chan to bring her into a kiss. She wraps her arms around his neck and reaches up on her tiptoes as Chan bends down. It’s not even a deep kiss, but it conveys their feelings all the same.

Together they walk to the train and once onboard, Y/N quickly finds a seat next to the window and sticks her head out the open window. Chan waits just below and holds up his arm. Y/N reaches out and holds his hand. “I love you babydoll.” Is all he says before he places a kiss on the palm of her hand, the back and her ring finger, “I will be ready with a ring when you come back.” “Will you propose at the train station?” “The odds are not slim.” He gives another kiss. “I love you too.” Y/N says over the train engine, as they just are about to start moving. She is not close enough to see it, but a tear does fall from Chan’s eye.

The train moves very slowly at first, so Chan walks along with it and doesn’t let go of Y/N’s hand. Soon though Chan is forced to let go and Y/N assumes that he will stay still and let her pass, but he doesn’t. “What are you doing?” The question comes out as a laugh when Chan starts running along side the train. “A grand gesture!” He yells back, and runs until he can’t keep up anymore. Y/N waves as Chan disappears into the distance, before eventually sitting down in her seat. She cannot wait to be on this train again, with snow falling behind the windows and going the opposite direction.

“Chan dear, the last one if for you.” Y/N gestures to the final box under the Christmas tree. They sit together on the floor, along with their dog. A older mutt, used to be stray called bandit, “It’s fragile. So please be gentle.” “Ah, I hope it is nothing outrageous babydoll.” Chan smiles as he undos the perfectly tied ribbon on the box before he takes off the lid. “You didn’t doll.��� Chan laughs as he reaches to grab what’s inside the box. “Oh but I did.” Chan lifts a small, King Charles Spaniel puppy out of the box. She squirms as Chan looks at her. A little red bandana is tied around her neck, ‘Berry’ sewed into the fabric in white. Chan brings the puppy closer to his face and allows her to give him plenty of face kisses. Bandit makes sure to get closer too, sniffing at the new family addition.

“I love you.You are the best wife a man could have, you know that?” Chan asks as puts Berry in his lap to lean over and kiss Y/N’s lips, before grabbing her hand and kissing the ring on her finger. One he gave to her three years ago. “I love you too, and of course I am.” The puppy crawls out of Chan’s lap and over to the woman, who allows Berry to rest on her leg with her head on her stomach. She makes sure to pet the older dog too, since like Chan, he tends to be a little jealous at times as well. “You’re not going to be the only lady of the house anymore.” Chan smiles and rubs the puppy’s ear.

“Oh we may overpower you soon.” Y/N laughs and gestures to her stomach, “We are still unsure as to what we will get.” “Ah, but I’m sure he will be a boy.” Chan places his hand on his wife’s belly. He quickly leans down and gives her belly a kiss before straightening up and kissing his wife properly.

“You cannot possibly know that.” “I have a feeling.” “And if she ends up being a girl?” “Then I will love her just as much.”

[thestobingirlie]

Hiii I would like to ask you a questioni because I really likes tour point of view on stranger things. Objectively, do you think there's any chance stancy is endgame?

these two asks are pretty much exactly the same, so i figure i’ll just answer them both in one lol!

so, from an objective standpoint i do think there’s a chance for stancy endgame. the duffers have proven before that they are capable and willing to break up a couple and push together another within one season (two if we’re including the season of flirtatious behaviour prior). if anything i’d say stancy’s chances are slightly stronger than jancy’s was post-s1. if only because s4 very explicitly laid out all the issues with jancy, while pushing stancy as a couple. whereas with s1, there’s nothing that really outright tells us that stancy would be having the issues they did in s2 (s2 had to demonstrate those issues, then break stancy up, while s5 wouldn’t be as confined to that for jancy).

i also think bringing back the love triangle just to completely disregard it the following season would be very weak writing. and that’s not to say that the duffers are the best writers in the world, but generally they seem to know what they’re doing. there’s a reason stancy was a couple at the end of s1 — it wasn’t solely a way to drag out drama but a real attempt at thinking about what nancy would’ve done as a result of steve surviving the season.

jancy was very clearly the original endgame. however, the duffers have shown that they’re willing to adapt from their vision for the sake of better storytelling. steve was supposed to die in s1. but they enjoyed what joe keery brought to the show as steve too much! all this to say, they’re not completely rigid in their writing. jancy being the og endgame, doesn’t mean they will be now.

from a slightly more emotional and personal standpoint, i do think stancy is the better endgame option. steve represents hope for nancy. freedom from her trauma, all the stresses that have been weighing on her for the last four seasons. while, right now, jonathan is knee deep in it all. he hasn’t even begun to pull himself out of it! let alone contemplate how to properly help nancy. he thinks ignoring her and pushing away his problems is the best way to deal with it, but we can see that it isn’t (if s2 stancy taught us anything lol). could jonathan grow out of that in the space of, what, five episodes? i don’t know.

steve’s development up to this point has taken multiple seasons. but he’s grown as a person. he’s learnt. his relationships have helped him become a more well-rounded person. the kind of person willing to prioritise nancy. to help her heal.

none of this means that stancy will definitely be endgame! because ultimately none of us know what the duffers are truly going to do. the fact that they’re willing to deviate from their original plans, if anything, proves that we can’t necessarily put all our eggs in one basket lol. but i do think they have a chance.

[ddlcbrainrot]

What are your ships in ddlc? I noticed you do all the ships- If you ship all then what’s your favorite ship?

Now, whoever you are how did you that i was thinking of talking about my ship opinions soon?? mind wizard

SO, here’s the thing : when it comes to ships in genera it takes a lot for me to actually have OTPs and stuff and this is especially true in ddlc for me. For me shipping is more of a “sure, i could get behind this” sort of thing, except if once in a blue moon i find that one ship that alters my brain chemistry but believe it or not that has not really happened to me with any of the ddlc ships. It has happened with the game as a whole, but not really with the ships. The only one that has come close i’d say is sayonika but that’s more bc they happen to be the characters that i think about the most

That being said, i’d say i ship every ship in the game, simply because i could honestly see all of them working out in one way or another. Sure, they’re are some i like more than others but generally all of them work. And yes, this includes the Mc ships even though i like them less bc the side stories blew it out of the park with the chemistry between the girls

Speaking of the side stories, they are the sole reason i got into the shipping side of the fandom lol. The base game, as influential as it was for me, never really ignited any shipping sparks ig. I actually could not care less for the shipping before the side stories, bc most of it felt kind of trope-y ironically enough. Like, Natsuri was the big one, which was only popular bc of the whole opposite’s attract thing (not that there’s anything wrong with that ofc, it just never really resonated with me). Sayonika was a victim of what i like to call the “leftovers syndrome” where two characters are shipped bc they are the only ones left to be shipped with.

And Mc.. well let’s talk about that actually. Mc x Yuri is well… how do i put this. They have absolutely nothing in common. I don’t necessarily hate this ship however, if i see it done right i can like it. Mc x Natsuki was alright, the banter was fun, they actually have things they can talk about, it’s overall a nice ship. I will say i prefer them as close friends, but if i was to see media (fan art, fics, mods etc) where it’s done right, i can appreciate it. Mc x Sayori is also a ship i can enjoy from time to time, probably the most out of any Mc ship. Again, i do prefer talking about their friendship more though but now that i’m writing this down i realise i’m just a slut for male/female friendships. Mc x Monika truly depends on what context the characters are given. Are we talking about non-sentient Monika x Mc? Bc that can be pretty fun. If we are talking about sentient Monika x Mc, i see a very interesting dynamic (not a particularly good one) where Monika is basically using Mc as a vessel for the player in her desperation. Can Mc feel this dynamic? Does he understand in some way that he’s the second choice, even if he doesn’t know the truth about their world? How does it affect him? Its fun to ponder about this ig, but it doesn’t really make for a healthy relationship

Then the side stories came out, where the characters evolved from their one-dimensional tropes into actual personalities with enticing dynamics between them and i was immediately sold. That being said, i still don’t really have an OTP per say, bc as stated before all of them could work out. Which is definitely bc of how we get to see each of them interact individually in each side story. In every side story, we see each character interact with the other and learn how to grow as individuals because of it. I could see each pairing happening individually, i could see them being a poly couple, maybe even a qpr, or just a very close friend group too! There is a lot of love between the characters, whether that is romantic, platonic or something in between im not 100% certain on, but the love is definitely there.

Anyway, you also asked what my favourite ship would be, and i’ll probably say Sayonika since most of the media I consume tends to be with them

WOW this was a long post. Hope i didn’t bore you too much. Thank you for the ask!!

[dreamcatcher92]

Coercion Chapter One

So this is my second smut story that I have been working on. I am hoping you all enjoy!

It is a bit dark. Yes, Billy Russo is of course our main character aside from a girl named Cassidy. Who is completely made up and meant to be played by the reader. The other characters that are mentioned in this story are made up as well and not based on anyone in particular. I did this one differently than my first story, but I wanted to switch up my writing style a bit. So you may see more differences in other stories to come. Things that are bold and italicized are thoughts.

Now for some warnings for the entire story but necessarily in the current chapter you read: dark Billy for sure, non-con, dub-con, kidnapping, NSFW, 18+, smut, sex, rape, attempted rape, physical violence, abusive behavior, language. I think that covers it, but sorry if I missed something.

Read at your own risk.

It’s been eight days since Cassidy’s kidnapping. She is being kept in a tiny room with just a stained twin sized mattress and an old bucket. The door to her room is like the rest of the girls’ doors. They all are metal doors with small windows and metal bars. 

The other girls had been there much longer than she had and the stories they told her were like those from a horror movie. They explained to her that this was some sort of trafficking ring, and men from all over came there to buy some of the girls. That’s why they were constantly bringing in what the men called “new inventory.” Girls were made to do several different things, and if they disobeyed or messed something up, they were punished.

When men come in to make their purchases, they are shown the polaroid photographs of each girl and can choose whoever they want to see. Then, the girls are brought into a big room where they are lined up and inspected by the buyer. Whoever isn’t chosen is taken back to their rooms, while the ones being sold are whisked off somewhere else. 

Screaming and yelling can be heard off and on all day and night. Cassidy had been chosen a couple times to mop the floors of different rooms and to pass out lunch and dinner to the other girls. Whenever Cassidy was taken from her room to do a job, one of the men who stood guard would follow her and watch her every move. She learned through hearing him talking to some of the other guys that his name is Simon. Cassidy was petrified and did everything that she was told to do to not get hurt, or worse.

 A few days ago, one of the girls named Madison slapped a guest that had come to make a purchase. During his inspection, the man was touching each girl anywhere he pleased. Madison hadn’t been there much longer than Cassidy, so when the man began touching her, she got very uncomfortable and angry. When the man cupped one of Madison’s breasts, she smacked him across the face. Immediately, she knew that she had messed up and began apologizing profusely.

Madison was separated from the others being looked at, and once he was finished, the men were told to bring all the girls into the big warehouse room. Standing in the center was the man who Cassidy believed to be in charge. The other six men standing around seemed to do whatever this guy told them to do. She overheard Simon and another guy talking one day about this man while she was mopping floors. They said his name is Vinny. He didn’t sound like a very pleasant person to be around from the conversation they were having about him.

Madison was then brought back into the room and told to stand in front of the line of girls. She was crying and pleading for forgiveness and another chance. However, the girls were about to witness what happens if you piss off Vinny or embarrass him in front of a client. 

“Ladies, let this be a warning for you all. I don’t fuck around when it comes to my business. I was made to look like a fool in front of one of my clients today by this little bitch right here. If any of you try what this whore did, this is what is going to happen.” Vinny said in a stern and harsh voice as he turned and looked at Simon. “Go ahead Simon.”

Simon walked over to Madison who was crying and didn’t dare move from where she stood out of sheer terror. She looked at the girls and was barely able to open her mouth to say something before a bullet was put into her skull. She fell to the ground, dead. 

Some of the girls screamed and were crying, while others were in such shock that they couldn’t move or make a sound. Cassidy stood and watched the blood pool around Madison’s head. She didn't know what to think or do. Di-did that just happen? Holy shit. I have to get out of here. Moments later, the girls were forcibly led out of the room and back to their bedrooms. 

Once everyone was locked in, Jacob, the man that Cassidy hears Simon talking to the most, yelled down the long hallway, “There will be no food for anyone tonight! You can thank the slut for that one. Lights out!”

Cassidy leaned back against her door and slid her way down to the floor. She began to cry. How could someone just kill another person like that? He showed no sort of emotions after he shot Madison. In fact, thinking back, Cassidy thought she remembered seeing Simon smirk down at Madison’s dead body. 

“I said lights out!” Jacob yelled, only now he was standing right outside of Cassidy’s door.

She jumped to her feet and quickly switched the light off. The last thing she wanted to do right now was piss these guys off any more than they already were. She then took a few steps away from the door.

She heard his large footsteps go down the hall and she let out a deep sigh of relief. She walked over to her tattered mattress and laid down on her back. She would look up at the ceiling every night and imagine herself lying on a beach. The waves crashing on the shore, seagulls flying overhead, she sometimes thought she could even smell the saltwater in the air. She always stayed in her dreamland until she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Cassidy jolted awake when her door swung open and hit the wall. Simon walked in and she instantly felt her heart sink. Her immediate thought was if she had done something wrong. Was this about not turning her lights off when she was told the first time?

“Get up!” Simon yelled.

Cassidy sprang to her feet and began to shake in fear. She could hear other girls being rounded up as well down the hall. She then thought that maybe this was going to be something else like last night. Simon grabbed her arm and forced her down the hall, up a small set of stairs, and back into the warehouse room.

“Move it!” men yelled to the girls as they filed in and were placed in a small line-up. 

“What’s going on?” Cassidy shakingly whispered to the girl on her right.

“Shut up!” a man yelled. 

Cassidy stood up straight when he yelled, and tears filled her eyes. She had no idea what was happening, but she was glad that she wasn’t alone. Four other girls, Sienna, Tessa, Heidi, and Macie were there as well. They all stood and trembled in fear while they waited for what was to come next. Breathe Cass, breathe.

Suddenly, a door opened and in walked Vinny and another man who was very well dressed. He wore a black suit and tie with freshly shined black oxford shoes. His hair was combed back neatly, and he kept a serious look on his face.

“Ladies, this is a new and very wealthy client of mine, Mr. Russo. I expect all of you to be on your best behavior. We don’t want another mishap like last night, do we?” Vinny said as he chuckled and looked at Mr. Russo who was not at all amused. 

“Let’s just get this done.” Mr. Russo said, sounding annoyed as he stepped towards Sienna who was at one end of the line.

He looked her up and down, then moved onto the next, and so forth. When he got to Cassidy, she was looking at the floor and too scared to look up. He lifted her head by placing his index finger under her chin and pushing up. Time seemed to slow and Cassidy felt like she was going to puke from her nerves. 

She was now looking into his dark eyes. As he looked at her, she felt like he was staring straight into her soul with how intensely he was looking at her. After a few moments, Mr. Russo turned around and walked back over to Vinny.

“The one at the end.” Mr. Russo said.

“Sienna?” Vinny asked as he pointed in her direction.

“No, her.” Mr. Russo snapped and pointed.

Cassidy glanced over and realized he was pointing straight at her. Her heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest. She couldn’t move. She was terrified. Me?! No no no no no no, please God no.

“Luke, Eli, take the others back. Simon, take the young lady to prep her for departure. Mr. Russo, if you’ll come with me, we can finalize everything and get you two on your way.” Vinny said with an uncomfortably big smile on his face.

Simon grabbed Cassidy’s wrist and took her through a different door than the one she had come through earlier. They walked down a short hallway, through another door, and into a bathroom. Cassidy was so confused as to what was going on and what she was supposed to do. All she knew was she was frightened and wished that she could run away from all of this.

Simon shoved Cassidy further into the bathroom, “Get cleaned up and put the clothes on that’s over there.”

Get cleaned up? How? There’s no shower, just a disgusting toilet and a grungy sink. She looked over and saw a yellow dress hanging on the wall. On the floor beside the sink was a washcloth, towel, and a bar of soap. All of which were clearly used. 

“You’ve got ten minutes, so you better fucking hurry.” Simon yelled as he slammed the door shut.

Cassidy undressed quickly and tossed her ripped up nightgown, dirty underwear, and bra aside on the floor. She washed the best that she possibly could with the resources she had. After drying off, she walked over to get dressed. She grabbed the dress off the hook and was startled by a loud sudden noise behind her.

The door swung open, and Cassidy gasped as she used the sundress to cover her naked body. Simon walked in and shut the door behind him. He started making his way toward her. He had an animalistic look in his eyes.

“I-I’m almost done. I’m hurrying, I promise.” she said nervously.

Simon grabbed the dress, yanked it from her hands, and tossed it aside. He grabbed her by the hips and shoved her backwards onto the concrete wall. She frantically tried pushing him off her, but he was too strong.

“What are you doing?! Get off me!” she yelled.

“You’re not leaving here until I get a piece of that ass of yours.” Simon said as he spun her around to face the wall.

Cassidy screamed, “Stop it! Let go of me! Please, stop it!”

Simon shoved her face against the wall and started undoing his pants, “Shut the fuck up! You know you want this, you dirty little whore.”

She fought him as hard as she could, but he easily overpowered her. Suddenly, the door swings open. Vinny and Mr. Russo could hear the commotion and intervened just in time. Mr. Russo grabbed Simon and jerked him backwards. He turned Simon around and punched him so hard that with just one punch, Simon was on the ground out cold.

Mr. Russo then turned to Cassidy. She was huddled into the fetal position against the wall. She wanted to disappear. She just wanted all of this to stop. 

Mr. Russo grabbed the dress off the floor and handed it to Cassidy, “Put this on.” 

She sniffled and got back onto her feet, “Y-yes, sir.”

After slipping the cotton garment over her head, the pair pushed their way past Vinny, who was apologizing abundantly to Mr. Russo, and made their way down the hall. They made it to the garage where his black sports car was parked. Cassidy was tensed up as Mr. Russo forcefully guided her along with one hand on her back. They walked up to the vehicle and she took a deep breath.

He opened the passenger door and said in a firm voice, “Get in.”

[maple-the-awesome]

Erwin Smith & Shy! Reader Headcanons

Pairing: Platonic! Erwin Smith & Levi x Shy! Reader

Requested by anonymous: Hello! Do you think I could ask for Headcanons with Erwin Smith being a father figure towards a shy, quiet but sweet reader? Of course! I'm afraid I'm not the greatest at writing headcanons, but I did my best 💪(◡̀_◡́҂). Here you go 💜

Attack on Titan Masterlist ❤️ Fandom Masterlist

You joined the Scouts as soon as you could, but have always tried to maintain a low profile, in fact out of everyone who has encountered you, at least 98.99% are certain they've never actually heard your voice before.

Are you mute? Do you just think you’re too good for everyone else? The world may never know.

…Alright, so that might've been an exaggeration. Some people know, notably those who don’t survive off of a single brain cell (aka Erwin and Levi, sometimes Hange depending on the day???).

Okay, let's start off with Levi's opinions of your first. What does he like about you? You're quiet. Plain and simple. You don't talk his ear off about stupid stuff. You don't make dumb annoying jokes like Springer or Braus. You don't butt heads with others like Yeager and Kirstein. You're one of those rare cadets who has decent manners and clearly wasn't raised by wolves (although a bit more on that later).

Erwin isn't as shy when it comes to giving you praise. If he notices you feeling insecure or particularly shy, you can bet he's on that shit right away the same way Levi's on dirt with a mop. Oh, and his words of support aren't just 'words'. Expect a full on speech with the same sort of passion he pours into his job.

Now, there's a reason for Levi and Erwin often encouraging you that goes beyond you simply being their favorite (which you probably are). They can relate to you. You're an orphan. They're both orphans. The difference? They didn't have anyone there for them. They each lost the only father-figures they had when they were young and know the pain well, so they'll be damned if they let you suffer the same path.

Yep, they're self-proclaimed dads. Levi, of course, won't admit it aloud because he's stubborn, but that doesn't apply to Erwin. He doesn't necessarily go around saying anything, however if someone asks if he has a kid, he'll shameless say 'yes' with a sly smirk on his face (is he lying?!).

You don't mind the attention. It may have been uncomfortable at first since you weren't used to having any parent figures, although you quickly realized how nice it could be to have two scary dads hovering over your shoulder especially whenever someone gives you a hard time for being so timid. Mind your own business or get assigned extra cleaning duty. You choose.

Added bonus? Expert advice that isn't handed down in an intimating way that could be mistake for harsh criticism like everyone else gets. Feel free to go to Erwin any time you have a question. He'll go over with you in detail, and if you don't understand his explanation, he'll try different ways to get it across, even taking you to others who might be able to explain it better. You also might just be the only scout who isn't afraid to ask Levi for critiques on your fighting skills since you can so easily see beyond his 'tough-guy' act.

Hell, sometimes you just follow them around like a lost puppy, too, just to soak in some bonding time. Erwin actually really enjoys this, liking the quiet joy that comes with having you help him with important documents. Levi may huff and puff about it, sometimes waving you off when others comment on you being his shadow, yet know that deep down he takes a lot of pride in your presences.

Yep. They're both wrapped around your silent little finger. Do what you want with this information.

[vro0m]

Hi

I just wanted to comment on what you said about how cars aren’t made for any particular driver and that teams just make the best possible(fastest) car. I think Mercedes have always been fair with their drivers and their never seemed favouritism over car development (?). Both Rosberg and Bottas seemed to enjoy driving their cars and so it doesn’t look like Mercedes favour Lewis.

However that’s not always the case in other teams… redbulls own staff confirmed that they never gave Alex the car that he wanted and in his recent players tribune profile he said that both cars we’re developed to max’s preference and you just had to accept it. Pierre also struggled in the same car. I think when teams get drivers who like their cars set up in a similar way you won’t find contention but teams don’t always do their research. For example, Charles and Carlos both complained about the car last season and when the car was steered toward Carlos preferences in the second half of the season Charles complained but it was too late.

Hi! So nope, still not true.

I'm gonna put my answer under a cut because it got long with the screenshots and all.

What I was looking for for like 30 minutes was this thread, written by a space engineer on twitter, and retweeted on my TL by several F1-related people such as Blake, from the EngineBreaking podcast, who's an ex-F1 engineer. Now the thread is about feedback, balance and development but here's what caught my attention :

"[...] first part of the answer is, the pilot isn't an engineer. It might seem obvious but not really. He isn't the one who's deciding how to build the car, and even if he can make suggestions, he's not the one calling the shots in the end.

Indeed, someone's favorite driving style isn't necessary the fastest and a faster car doesn't necessarily mean more comfortable to drive. The RB16 is an excellent example of this."

"The designers explained that Max masked the major design issues the car had, which became invisible on data and which the engineers get any feedback on because it didn't bother him. They only understood that very late.

And while it wasn't an issue for him, we saw his teammates struggle one by one. Albon compared the sensitivity of that car to someone setting the sensitivity of their mouse to the maximum to play an FPS game."

And indeed : here's an article about it.

RBR didn't make the car that way for Max. They made it that way, and it just so happens that Max, who is incredibly talented and incredibly adaptable, was able to drive it very fast anyway, to the point they didn't notice they were developing it in a bad direction until very late.

If you go down that road, Max is actually the perfect counter-example to what you're trying to argue. It's not that RBR made a car for him, it's that he's precisely so adaptable that it didn't matter that the car had a major flaw.

As I said the team builds the fastest possible car. That's what they did. The car was flawed. Fact. But they had a driver who could drive it to its fastest anyway, so why change it? That's what people interpret as "they designed it this way for him". But still, they didn't. They designed it this way and he could drive it, so he did. And they didn't correct the flaw because it didn't matter. Even if the other driver was struggling, unfortunately. In that sense, yes, they favoured Max over Pierre and Alex, but they didn't design the car to favour him. The chronological order goes the other way around. Ultimately, they decided it was more important for their results that Max go as fast as he could than risk slowing him down a tad for his teammate to catch up a bit. I find it arguable to say the least that this was the right decision, but still, they did not design the car for him.

ETA : ultimately what the article I linked say is precisely that even if it fit him and he could drive it and well, they ultimately had to stop developing in this direction because it was taking it too far so. yeah.

The whole bit about Ferrari developing the car to fit Carlos being pure rumours and speculations, I will not comment on it.

[depravitycentral]

General Yandere! Atsumu Miya Profile

Yandere! Atsumu Miya x fem! reader

Warnings: stalking, obsession, kidnapping, drugging, mentions of non/dub-con, masturbation, nonconsensual photography, mentions of physical abuse (Atsumu doesn't hit you, though), Stockholm syndrome, nonconsensual affection, fem! reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 10.0K

DARLING PROFILE:

Honest

For Atsumu, trust is the most important thing in a relationship.

He’s always been dubbed a bit unreliable; his twin rolling his eyes and mentioning how he’s always late, past girlfriends crying and screaming at him about he’s throwing them away for some stupid sport, even his own reflection in the mirror telling him he’s too narrow minded, too obsessive, too abnormal to ever have a successful relationship.

It’s left Atsumu a bit jaded – he’s always wanted a lover, yes, but as his professional career has developed, his desire has dwindled. Too often he’s been accused to blowing off his significant other in favor of the sport, and while he's never been able to argue that point, it’s exhausting.

And so, having a partner that’s honest about how they’re feeling, how they want him to treat them would be perfect. He’s tired of having people have such high expectations of him without him even knowing, and when he inevitably doesn’t meet them he’s always the one with the door slamming in his face, shock and confusion stirring in his gut because what did he do wrong?

His darling must be painfully honest with him; he likes people who are able to be blunt while expressing their opinions, and while he doesn’t want a blatantly mean darling, one who is able to give him tough love is more than welcome. He likes the idea that his woman is capable of keeping him in line, and frankly, with every murmur of I wish you’d spend more time with me that falls past their lips, Atsumu is scrambling to let his coach know he’s taking a week off, that he’s calling in those favors he earned from staying late to so many practices.

He just wants a partner that will never pretend to be something they aren’t, and while they’re allowed to have secrets (in the beginning), Atsumu wants to know every fucking one.

So really, his darling should just be honest from the get go; it will attract his attention, yes, but isn’t it just so sweet to have the six foot tall, charismatic, talented professional athlete head over heels for you?

Opinionated

Don’t get it twisted – Atsumu doesn’t want someone who takes this trait to the very extreme. He still very much likes the idea that he’s the one in charge of the relationship, that he’s the one wearing the pants, that he calls any of the truly important shots.

However, when things really come down to it, Atsumu is a worshipper. He’s utterly and completely enraptured by his darling, blindsided by them and willing to do literally anything it takes to get them smiling at him, to hear those sweet words of praise falling from their lips.

He’s obsessed in every possible way, and to have a darling that doesn’t give things up easily only makes him fall more in love. He likes a darling with convictions; they have opinions and beliefs that they stand by, and it’s difficult to get them to budge.

He likes people with strong personalities, and a darling that fits this mold is his ideal type – he doesn’t have to agree with their beliefs necessarily, though it would be nice. He just likes the prospect of a darling who isn’t afraid to fight for what they believe in, and to voice what they think is right.

He’s not afraid to argue a bit, though he’ll always eventually give in, staring at his darling with wide, glossy brown eyes and parted pink lips, his cheeks stained red and his heart racing because wow, they look so damn sexy when they’re standing up for themselves.

Quite honestly, as his obsession develops, it becomes alarmingly easy for his body to react to his darling’s declarations of beliefs as well; the minute they say they support pro-choice causes, his pants are tight and he’s hiding his face, because as they keep listing off the reasons they believe in the cause, Atsumu can’t deny how fucking passionate they are, how pretty and smart and confident they seem.

It’s a turn on, truly, and while at the end of the day Atsumu’s opinion is the final say, having a darling with strong beliefs will help fuel his worshipper tendencies.

Competitive

Similarly to the other traits listed out for his darling, Atsumu needs someone with a bit of a competitive edge.

He doesn’t want this to overrun their relationship, but he likes the idea of small, domestic competitions; who can shoot the paper straw wrapper the furthest when he’s taking his darling out to a nice dinner (their table neighbors are less than pleased, but with the way his darling laughs and giggles, Atsumu doesn’t fucking care).

Little competitions of outwitting each other are mandatory for Atsumu; a partner that can tease him, sending him knowing glances and making fun of the stupid things he says makes his ears go red and his throat get all tight, but he fucking loves it.

He wants a partner that will compete to see who can go without stepping on a crack in the concrete the longest when he takes them out for a late night walk through the local park (eventually he’ll fudge the number just so he can win, and then he’ll offer to carry them home because they ‘obviously can’t avoid the cracks on yer own’, fully trying to pretend like the concept of touching his darling doesn’t make him break out in anxious shivers, beads of sweat covering his temples and hands).

He just likes a darling that can challenge him, and while he never seriously considers his darling actual competition, there’s something about seeing the way they focus on him as they try to beat him that makes his head swim.

There’s something so wonderful about how hyper focused they become on the things Atsumu accomplishes, and frankly it’s an opportunity to show off – he can show them how impressive he is, how capable, how strong and manly and romantic he can be. It’s perfect, and he needs a darling that fill these shoes – so really, don’t let Atsumu win, yeah?

Because once you win, his obsession just grows deeper, his fascination with you that bleeds into the wee hours of the morning as he clutches his pillow and desperately humps at it only getting stronger.

Stubborn

While Atsumu enjoys the idea of holding a certain amount of power over his darling, he doesn’t want someone who will easily roll over.

He likes the idea of a darling that is willing to stand up for themselves, and in particular a darling who is true to their word – and so, a more stubborn beloved would be perfect for Atsumu. He needs someone who isn’t willing to give up on what they want or believe so easily; of course, they can’t be too stubborn, as they need to be able to see the benefits of other perspectives sometimes.

(Specifically, they need to understand his perspective sometimes, even if it involves stalking them, kidnapping them, or even forcing them to sleep in the same bed as him.)

They need to be able to admit when they are wrong, but for the vast majority of the time Atsumu would love a darling that takes a bit of time before they’re willing to change their minds. He likes to idea of a darling that would only ever change their mind for him; it feeds into his possessiveness, and quells his delusions regarding his darling.

After all, they treat him unlike they treat everyone else – and isn’t that a sign? Doesn’t that mean they see him differently, think of him differently, perhaps even view him as someone special? The thought makes him giddy, his chest erupting in butterflies and the widest grin settling across his features, and he’ll remember each and every time his darling has ever changed their mind on something involving him.

It’s euphoric, the kind of thing he thinks about when he’s deep in his despair and missing his darling, but just remembering their pretty eyes looking up at him, the defeated and embarrassed look on their face when they say well, maybe you’re right…

It’s the stuff of both wholesome and wet dreams, and Atsumu will take it all with stride. After all, he’ll take anything his darling gives him.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Clingy

In general, Atsumu is absolutely desperate for your attention.

He’s not unused to female praise and girls fawning over him, what with the sheer number that attend his games and cheer him on. He’s used to the screaming fans in the crowds at Jackals games, constant messages in his DMs containing nude photographs and attempts at beginning a relationship with him.

And yet, despite his popularity, there’s something about the idea of you supporting him, you giving him the time of day that gets him feeling hot, his stomach fluttery and his lips dry. There’s something about the idea of you taking the time to recognize him, to acknowledge him (even if it’s just through the tiniest of smiles, or a quick text wishing him luck in his next match) that gets him sighing like some lovesick school girl, the idea genuinely so pleasing that he tends to zone out, too busy imagining the way you’d hug him or kiss him or snuggle up beside him after a hard game.

As a result, Atsumu tends to flock to you every chance he gets; he wants to show off, to get you in awe and have your eyes on him, and he’s not subtle.

It’s more than obvious to anyone that knows him (his friends and team) that he’s trying too hard, that he’s pushing himself harder than he should in order to win your favor. They’re more than aware that he’s overworking himself at games he knows you’re attending, flexing every muscle in his body as hard as he can when he walks by you, laughing loudly and lowering his voice slightly when you’re nearby because he’s heard that women find huskier voices attractive.

It’s embarrassing, if Osamu, Suna and Sakusa are being honest, but Atsumu can’t help it.

He needs you to notice him, to let your gorgeous eyes flick over his form, a small smile curling on your lips, a finger tucking your hair behind your ear, your weight shifting from one hip to another, anything at all to show him that you notice him, that you see him and think of him and love him and want him and need him and can’t stand even a single moment away from him –

It’s intense, to the point that you’ll likely notice the way he resembles an adolescent boy with how badly he’s trying to catch your attention, and frankly, you’ll probably be flattered. After all, it’s the Atsumu Miya that keeps meeting your gaze, his brown eyes flicking away quickly as he fights a blush and nudges Suna rather harshly, telling him to laugh like I told a joke, dammit, or I’ll steal yer chuupet, and how could you not be flattered?

He’s a heartthrob, a volleyball star, someone every girl you know would love to date, and he’s choosing you of all people? It feels good, and you’ll bask in the attention for a while – giving into his little desperate cries for attention, having conversations with him, coming to practices, letting him catch dinner with you sometimes, everything he requests with that strangely vulnerable would ya mind if I – er, if I went with you?

It’s hard to say no after all, and while Atsumu is internally panicking every second you’re together because he’s terrified he’ll fuck up and ruin the chemistry you seem to have, he wouldn’t trade his time with you for the world.

You’re perfect, so utterly lovely in every possible way, and so with time slowly his clinginess grows more and more intense, stronger and difficult to control, until you start getting worried about how far he’s pushing things, why the line seems to be crossed between friendliness and questionable intent.

It’s strange when his knuckles keep brushing yours, much more often than what would be accidental, or the way his fingertips brush against yours and slightly curl, like he’s trying to be subtle and gauge your reaction to holding his hand.

It’s odd how his gaze lingers on your form for much longer than is normal, those brown eyes fixed on your figure as you walk away, as you squirm and uncomfortably stare at the ground as your friend talks about the recent history test they’d just taken while you’re out and about getting lunch.

It’s strange how he always seems to make direct eye contact with you during games, even when you’re buried up in the sea of people in the bleachers, or how he hands you a plastic sack before the next game with small keychains and little memorabilia on it that he thought ya would like, since yer always cheerin’… inside you’ll find stickers with MSBY’s logo, a few volleyball themed sticky notes, pens and banners, and a copious amount of yellow plushies; foxes, jaguars and little birds, things that seem to match the shade of his hair exactly, little stuffed animals in number a 13 jersey, even a few banners with the words I’m proud of you ‘Tsumu! written across it with handwriting that looks just slightly too similar to your own.

It’s weird, and frankly you’ll want to return all of the things, but guilt and the crushed expression on Atsumu’s face when you don’t wear the custom made t-shirt with his jersey number and last name on the back (the size is exactly right, much to your dismay) to the next game have you reluctant.

You’ll want to return everything, but when you aren’t jumping up and down and cheering with every set he makes, you’ll end up piling on the accessories and supporting Atsumu, letting him call you every night to ramble on about his latest plays and movies he loves, letting him take you to Osamu’s favorite onigiri stand after games, letting him hug you for much too long.

You’ll let it happen, and Atsumu couldn’t be happier – but be warned, when you give the blond an inch, he’ll take miles and miles and miles. After all, he just needs you, and if you’ve let him push the envelope so far already, what else will you allow?

Will you let him knock you out and lay you across the soft comforter that adorns the bed he’s set up for the two of you to share?

Maybe you’ll let him cuddle you and run his fingers through your hair, bury his face into your neck and inhale, hump you like an animal in heat as he begs for you to tell me ya love me, fuck princess tell me yer in love with me.

Atsumu sure hopes so, and you wouldn’t want to disappoint, right?

Possessive

Tying in with some of his clingier habits, Atsumu struggles to not completely involve himself in every possible aspect of your life. It’s not that he wants to be omnipresent, always there, peering over your shoulder like some overgrown guardian angel with a golden retriever’s need for attention, but he genuinely can’t help it.

He gets so anxious where you’re concerned, terrified that someone else will come along and sweep you off your feet, scared that you’ll find someone better that he just physically can’t sit still and let another man walk into your life.

He struggles to give you your own space, not quite sure how to balance his desire to make you happy and see him as the perfect partner and the other, more pressing part of him that’s desperate to keep every man on Earth away from you, to keep a healthy distance of at least fifty yards away from you at any given time.

He doesn’t want to even allow the opportunity for another person to steal your attention or time, and as a result Atsumu decides the best method to achieve this desire is to simply always be there. If he doesn’t allow an opening for another man to sweep you away, then surely it won’t happen, surely you won’t be speaking to anyone else without the blond at your hip, staring down with malicious eyes as some guy tries to make you laugh or smile, as they compliment your eyes.

He’ll stand there, towering over you with brown eyes narrowed, flexing each and every muscle in his upper body, the sleeves of his uniform shirt straining against the lean muscle of his bicep as the man splutters, terrified that the Atsumu Miya is glaring at him, scared that he’ll get punched or his reputation ruined.

He tends to start off with staring, trying to make the other man who was stupid (and brave) enough to approach you uncomfortable enough to leave the two of you alone. But if that doesn’t work (which, most of the time he’s too impatient to see through fruition), Atsumu will rely on other tactics to get you looking at him and only him, just as you should.

That is, it’s disturbingly easy to plaster a fake smile onto his lips, grabbing your arm and spinning you to face him, asking you in that sing song voice that’s just a bit too high if you want to grab something to eat, if you want to see the new serve he’s been working on, if you want to go bother Osamu with him.

He’s asking anything, everything to get you agreeing, whining for your attention and telling you that he needs ya, yer my good luck charm with ‘Samu and I want some onigiri, pouting like a child if you seem unsure or reject him.

When you eventually sigh and agree, apologizing to the other man and letting Atsumu drag you off to god knows where, the blond will throw a malicious glare over his shoulder, a proud smirk etched onto his lips as he mouths the words mine, before looking down at you and smiling once more, prattling on about some new accomplishment of his in an effort to impress you.

Generally, this works – Atsumu is terribly insistent and determined, wanting so badly and so impatiently to get your attention and drag you out of the situation that it’s nearly palpable, but he has this strange charm to him that has you always caving, making you sigh and bite your lip but ultimately say okay fine, but just this one time, okay?

Atsumu is strangely pitiable, someone that manages to master the kicked puppy look each time he begs and pleads for you to spend time with him, to just stay with him, to not ditch hangouts in favor of working overtime, to not join that recreational group you’ve been interested in because he needs you to watch his practice and haven’t ya seen the men in that group? Don’t ya see the way they look at yer ass when ya walk away? Ya’d be stupid to join ‘em, princess.

He’s oddly sweet, the validation that him constantly searching for your attention and praise gives you strangely addicting, so just let him put his hand on your waist, lean down to inhale the scent of your hair (and smile when he smells your familiar shampoo and not a single trace of cologne that isn’t his), smile and point at you when he makes a good set, grab your wrist and drag you behind the practice facility to press you against the nearest wall and shove his tongue down your throat because someone forgot who they fuckin’ belong to, huh baby?

Atsumu is strangely endearing in his desperation to keep you to himself, but don’t be fooled – underneath the jealous schoolboy act is a pathetic, dangerous man willing to do whatever it takes to keep you by his side, even if it involves dirtying his hands with chloroform, blood, or lies.

Delusional

The trouble with Atsumu is, of course, his determination.

He’s simply unable to let himself lose or let go of things he’s truly passionate about. And so, once his feelings for you form, you make that very short list of Atsumu’s priorities – right between volleyball, and, begrudgingly, his brother.

But while this in itself isn’t particularly strange, it’s the method with which Atsumu expresses his intense devotion to you that’s a bit alarming, that makes him qualify as a delusional man.

He’s very, very dedicated to making sure that he looks good in your eyes and that you like him. He’s obsessed with making sure that the two of you pan out, that you end up together, that he gets to hold and kiss you, to touch your pretty skin and slip a diamond studded ring on your finger while you whisper out that airy yes, I’ll marry you ‘Tsumu.

He’s driven by the fantasies he possesses of the two of you; mostly domestic things, embarrassingly enough. He likes to imagine waking up together in the mornings, the sunlight dancing along your face as you softly breath in and out.

He likes to imagine the way he’d snuggle up against you, pulling you against his chest so that your face is buried against his pectorals, his chin atop your head as he deeply breaths in your scent, relishing in the peacefulness and calmness of the moment.

He likes to imagine the way you’d smile when he compliments you, your flustered expression as you playfully smack his upper arm, trying to hide how embarrassed you are as he teases you. He imagines you’d shut him up with a kiss, whispering against his lips when you pull away that he’s just as pretty as me, the prettiest boy I’ll ever know.

He’s fueled by these desires, and while they aren’t explicitly dark, it’s the extreme to which Atsumu is willing to try to see them come to fruition that’s disturbing. It’s the way he’s holding himself to an impossible benchmark to encourage these feelings in you, to get you to reciprocate his infatuation.

It’s the way he’s simply not taking no for an answer; he’s always asking you to get food with him, to come to his games, to let him take you out to the park for ice cream, even just to call him – and if you decline his offers, Atsumu simultaneously feels his heart break and his resolve harden.

He feels as if it’s a sign that he’s not doing enough each time you reject him; obviously he’s not trying hard enough, not putting in the level of dedication and work that he must in order to get you falling in love with him.

His delusions lie in that he’s continually pushing himself harder to make you want him. He’s doing extensive research into the types of movies you watch, the books you read, the fanfiction you enjoy, the tropes and heartthrobs, anything and everything he can find about your tastes, even if it means digging through your browsing history.

He’s religiously watching and reading the media you like to consume, trying to find similarities so that he can emulate what the male lead always does.

Maybe he should dye his hair?

Maybe he should start wearing only shades of gray and black?

You always read stories where the lead brings the narrator flowers, so obviously you must want a bouquet, right?

Don’t be surprised when he shows up at your doorstep with a lovely, gorgeous bouquet of flowers in your favorite color, a blush dancing on his cheeks while he sheepishly asks if you’d like to come to the movies with me? There’s this new film coming out that I’ve been wanting to see, but it’s always depressing to eat popcorn alone, so…

He’s not really listening when you tell him that you’re not interested in dating anyone right now; you obviously just need some time, because there’s no way you can’t feel the desperation Atsumu feels for you.

There’s simply no fucking way you don’t realize how horribly, deeply he wants to call you his. Instead, he’ll just smile at you, that same too-wide grin while he pats your head (silently reveling in the feeling of your hair texture against his fingers because holy fuck he just touched you -) and tells you that it’s okay, I understand, no emotional commitment for ya, babe!

He’s not swayed by anything you could do or say to try and argue that his efforts aren’t working; Atsumu is determined, and he won’t let anything get in the way of earning your love and attention, including you. What you want matters to him, and he truly does want you to want him, but at the end of the day, his delusions cloud his mind into thinking that you do want him.

You may not know it yet – hell, you may not be willing to accept it yet, but Atsumu is okay with that. He can be patient, just for you. He can wait, lay the groundwork some more, woo you with every possible method he can think of, until you finally come to your senses and realize that no one can treat you like he does.

No one else will ever want you as badly as the blond does, and no one else would ever fight as hard to get you by their side.

No one else would be willing to rifle through your discarded trash just to see what food packages you were eating, what brand of soap and shampoo you like, what brand of tampons you use and what size.

No else would be willing to lace the food he has Osamu make for you (begrudgingly, but a few extra bucks thrown at the chef will do wonders) with vitamins, things to keep you healthier and happier, because he just cares about you.

No one else would do half of the shit he’s willing to do for you, and Atsumu is more than aware of this. Doesn’t that make him special?

Doesn’t his devotion to you show that he’s serious about loving you? Isn’t it romantic that he’s willing to go so damn far for you? You should be flattered, really; you’ve caught the attention of the Atsumu Miya, a professional athlete and star of the MSBY Jackals.

He’s head over heels for you, obsessed in every sense of the word with having you be his girl, and how could you get any luckier? Especially with the way he watches your every move like your shadow because he just cares so much?

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

When it comes to jealousy, Atsumu is certainly no stranger. He’s dealt with the green eyed monster his whole life; having a twin was difficult, what with people constantly comparing him to Osamu.

He’s tired of being known as simply an extension of another person, and while this got better as he got older and the two Miyas developed their own, independent lives, he’s always held a shred of jealousy towards his brother. He’s quick to anger, and so once you’re in the picture?

Well, Atsumu may have grown and matured a lot since his high school days, but he’s still the same somewhat childish man at heart. And to see someone – something – he loves so much be threatened by another man makes his gut clench uncomfortably, his lips pulling into a grimace before he can even think about it.

His fists are clenching before any rational thought enters his brain, whatever poor object was in his hands nearly breaking with the sheer amount of force he puts into his grip. He’s gotten much better with handling his rage, but the reality is that the idea of you finding another man doesn’t simply enrage him – no, it terrifies him.

He’s scared that he’s not enough; sure, he’s got money, fame, a great physique, and a charming smile, but what about his personality? Is he funny enough? Smart enough? Kind enough? Can he make you laugh like you want him to, can he make you flustered and embarrassed with his compliments and cheeky comments?

He’s riddled with self-doubt when it comes to you, and while he tries to put up the façade of confidence most of the time, there’s moments where you’ll very clearly see the real Atsumu underneath those layers of charisma. The real, raw, emotional, desperate young man who wants nothing more than for you to choose him.

And so, it doesn’t take too terribly much to set off his jealousy. Generally speaking, the blond only ever feels jealous when your attention drifts away from him. He doesn’t enjoy seeing other men stare at you from afar, the way their eyes rake over your figure, thoughts surely flashing through their mind about what could be under your clothes, all manner of perverted intentions and fantasies being played out mentally.

He doesn’t enjoy it, but at least Atsumu knows that you can’t be tempted by what you don’t see – he knows the look men give when they’re imagining railing you into next week, when they’re contemplating whether to approach you, but you don’t.

You’re not aware of the fine art of decoding the male gaze; and so, why should Atsumu be worried? He’ll shoo the man away, laying his claim over you to try and (not) subtly show the stranger that you’re firmly claimed and taken.

However, when his jealousy really activates is when you show signs of interest in other men. When it’s your eyes trailing another man’s figure, when it’s your lips quirking up into a smile as you listen to another man’s voice and jokes.

It’s insecurity hitting him square in the chest as he wonders if this man could be better than him, if you’d prefer him over Atsumu, if you’re unhappy with the blond. And so, he must put a stop to the interaction before you can develop any sort of attachment to this new man – it would derail everything he’s worked so fucking hard for over the last few months.

Atsumu’s brows furrow inward as he watches the way you tap your foot and smile at the man in front of you in line.

You’re waiting to order your drink at the local coffeeshop he’d had the both of you meet up at. Surprisingly punctual when it comes to you, Atsumu had arrived earlier than the time he’d scheduled, and had subsequently gotten his iced coffee before you’d gotten the chance to enter the shop.

And now, he was deeply regretting his decision to caffeinate himself before you showed up; the man in front of you was tall, with dark hair and tan skin. A chiseled jaw line was obvious even from his distance away, as were his smoothly pressed, tucked in maroon dress shirt and black slacks. Atsumu frowned; his own pair of brown shorts and brightly patterned top seemed much too childish now.

Did you like men in muted colors, or bold designs?

Distantly, Atsumu made a note to look through more of your browsing history to find out. In the present, though, the blond was growing more and more irritated by the minute. You were clearly checking out the stranger; your eyes were obviously traveling down along his back, your pretty gaze settling in on the spot right above his thighs –

Atsumu sucked in a sharp breath, his cheeks feeling hot (surely red), before he was immediately bolting out of his chair, his legs moving faster than his mind could think.

You were not to be having this free of an attraction to another man – particularly one that looked nothing like Atsumu himself.

Were you more attracted to men with dark hair? Did you prefer tanner skin rather than Atsumu’s own paler self?

Shaking his head, he let his fists clench at his sides, his lip trapped between his teeth so hard it threatened to bleed. It’s horrible, having to watch this interaction – the man had turned around to ask you a question, and you’d responded with something that made him laugh.

He was laughing, his whole face lighting up with a smile brighter than the fucking sun and Atsumu wants to spike a ball at his head, to punch him across his stupidly sharp jawline and make him scream and cry and beg for his forgiveness for touching what’s his his his –

He sucks in an unsteady, shaky breath as the man makes some comment about you looking pretty, and you jump slightly, your brows shooting up at his forwardness. You stutter out a thanks, mentally shocked because was he flirting with you…? This handsome stranger?

You clear your throat, telling him you like the color of his shirt, and the man smiles knowingly at you.

Do you like my shirt, or do you like what’s underneath it?

Your lips part slightly, your brows furrowing a bit. Oh, um, no, I mean your shirt.

Something about the way the man’s brows rose and the smirk that settled across your lips was starting to unsettle you, his forwardness earlier seeming confident, though perhaps too confident.

Admittedly, self assurance was attractive, but as the man’s smirk grew wider and he took another step towards you, you found yourself stiffening up.

I’m sure you’d like what’s underneath it too, sugar, if you’d like to see. I’m in the gym every morning, promise, and I never skip arm day.

You smile shakily at him, a barely hidden grimace at his words, before taking a small step backwards and away from him. You’d been unaware of the way Atsumu had taken strides to get closer to the both of you, essentially hiding himself behind the nearest display shelf of coffee cups and mugs while he kept his eyes focused on the both of you, his ears wide open to take in every word.

And to say he was angry was a massive understatement – sure, this man may be attractive, but could he not see how uncomfortable he was making you?

Did he not understand that you weren’t fucking interested? Atsumu is frozen for a moment, internally weighing what to do, but as the man reaches out to tuck a piece of stray hair behind your ear, the blond snaps.

He’s immediately at your side, grabbing your arm and shuffling you behind him, paying no mind to the way that the man’s face sours, his lips settling into a pinched line as he stares at Atsumu.

They’re roughly the same height, and despite the man’s insistence of always hitting the gym, it’s more than clear that Atsumu has more strength, his professional career leaving him ridden with muscle, even if he’s not a spiker. Atsumu’s sending him the meanest, coldest look he possibly can, cutting off the man who attempts to say something. She’s not interested, dipshit.

The man’s nostrils flare, and distantly Atsumu scoffs that he was ever feeling insecure because of such a piece of shit. The man guffaws, crossing his arms, snapping out and how the hell would you know?

Atsumu nearly growls, his heart pounding in his chest out of anger and barely restrained rage, his every muscle begging to be let go, to punch this man across the face, to beat the shit out of him while you watch – maybe you’d be impressed, thinking of him as strong and capable, thinking of him as your protector, your manly, masculine boyfriend.

It’s a charming thought, but he steels himself and instead rolls his eyes at the man. Because yer a fucking creep, that’s why, harassin’ women and getting’ em all scared and nervous. Fuck off.

And with that, Atsumu is grabbing your wrist, swerving on his heel and dragging you behind him, taking the both of you outside of the coffee shop. He’d left his own iced coffee on the table, but he couldn’t care less.

Once the both of you were outside, he immediately turned around, hazel eyes searching yours as he examined every inch of your face and body for any sort of injury or tears.

Your mouth is parted slightly, your eyes wide, but Atsumu can only mutter out a ya okay, love?

You don’t answer him – instead, you’re crashing into his chest, throwing your arms around him and hugging him as tightly as you can. Atsumu squeaks, his cheeks flushing bright red because holy fuck, you’re hugging him –

You whisper out a thank you, shoving your face further into his chest, and Atsumu can only hug you back as tightly, a hand running down your hair in comforting motions. A tear slips down his cheek without even realizing it, his heart racing because the fear of thinking he’d lost you was still much too strong, the worry and pain slowly ebbing away, but not nearly fast enough.

He’s quick to buy you another coffee at a different shop, along with your favorite sweets, insisting that you take the day off of work and instead come watch his practice today, where he can make sure you’re not approached by anymore creeps.

You agree, and Atsumu goes to sleep that night with a wide, nearly crazed smile as he hugs his pillow tightly, remembering the way you’d touched him and cheered him on at practice, even giving him a kiss on the cheek when he’d made a particularly good set.

His hand slips down his torso as he relives the way your chest had felt against his own, his other hand opening his phone to the folder he has of pictures of you, your pretty face staring at him through the screen as his own face morphs into a pretty ‘o’, his brows shooting up and whimpers tumbling past his lips.

You’re just so perfect, and while he still worries you’ll find someone else, at least today you didn’t – today, you were his.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Quite honestly, Atsumu doesn’t particularly want to steal you away.

He’s still clinging onto the idea of having a normal, healthy relationship with you, and while he can’t deny the attraction of keeping you locked up in his penthouse apartment, he isn’t jumping at his heels to kidnap you.

There’s just something about it that leaves a sour taste in his mouth; he fell in love with you for you, and perhaps there’s some part of him that’s hesitant to force you into captivity for fear of changing who you are. He doesn’t want some brain-dead, Stockholm Syndrome induced lover.

No, he wants you, with your every flaw and strength bare before his eyes, so that he can know every bit of you as you are, not as he wants to mold you to be.

He’s not interested in forming you into his ideal lover; you already are, and he’d never forgive himself if he changed you just to make you a more obedient captive.

And so, the prospect of kidnapping you just doesn’t seem like a possibility to the setter – besides, his delusions reinforce the idea that eventually you’ll want to live with him. He’ll tell himself over and over that you don’t want to be kidnapped because you want to come willingly with him, and while he may have struggled to believe it at first, eventually he's swearing by the idea.

Because really, when he’s repeating it to himself like a mantra, chanting it under his breath as his fingers clutch at the bathroom counter and cool water runs down his face from the faucet still on below him, how is he supposed to doubt it?

How can he not believe that you’ll eventually want him, want the life he can give you by being his partner?

Atsumu is riddled with insecurities, but despite the way the idea of you makes them flare up, there’s something oddly therapeutic about imagining the way you’d be able to overcome them, how you’d accept him as he is, smiling and leaping into his arms as you tell him yes, yes I’d love to live with you! Let me pack up all my stuff and let the landlord know, you’ll have to get a bigger bed so we can both fit…

He’s convinced himself that you want to live with him, through sheer determination and repetition, and often when stress is eating him alive, his fingers tugging at his hair while he paces back and forth as he relives the way you smiled at that man today over and over and over again, it’s the thought of how you’d lovingly accept him eventually that keeps him going.

It’s a pleasant thought, really – and one that keeps his sanity in tact.

And so, when eventually the time comes and he gets this blushy, bashful look on his face, wringing his hands and struggling to make eye contact with you as he opens his mouth, just know that the scene will not be pretty. When he blurts out the words (stuttered a bit, hopefully you won’t notice), just know that when you inevitably reject his offer, Atsumu will seem a bit… off.

There’s something about the way his brown eyes darken, his hands falling limp in his lap, the chatter of the restaurant around you seeming so fucking loud as silence falls between you.

Atsumu’s in shock, really, unable to believe what he’s just heard – your rejection goes against everything he’s ever believed, every mantra he’s forced himself to believe, every little thing he’s repeated to himself over and over again until he’s crying and smiling like a fool, laughing and sobbing and whispering your name again and again and again –

He’s frozen, and you’ll eventually leave the restaurant with him, giving him an awkward hug and wishing him a good night, but when you get into your bed you’d best cherish it. Really, you must – because that’s the last time you’ll ever be seeing the familiar four walls of your bedroom, the familiar feel of your sheets, the same view from your window.

Because as you sleep, your pretty chest rising and falling peacefully, Atsumu’s at your doorway, his hand shaking as he breaths in unevenly, the rope and chloroform already at attention as he whispers you’ll love me, promise ya will, jus’ takes some time…

It’s a rude awakening the next morning, of course, with a stranger’s arms around you and his heavy breaths in your ear, but don’t take too long to adjust; after all, Atsumu is patient, but every man has his breaking point.

As a captor, Atsumu is mostly just clingy.

He’s not too terrible; he’s generally somewhat aware of your personal space, but he does have a habit of forcing you into unwanted affection. He’ll never put you into sexual scenarios, but more often than not you’ll notice he has wandering hands.

He’s always snaking his hand into yours, his fingers brushing against your soft skin and the pad of his thumb rubbing small circles against your hand, a small smile settling over his features.

He’s always wrapping his arms around you from behind, settling his head into the crook of your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply and sighing out your name, some slurred compliment making shivers run up your spine.

(It’s normally something along the lines of smell so pretty today babe, ‘s that yer new shampoo? I like it, makes me wanna take a bite outta ya.)

He’s planting kisses against your cheeks and knuckles, letting his lips wander along the plains of your body under he’s reached your neck. He won’t actually kiss you, though – you’re grateful for that at least, because while he loves to leave his mark along your body (mostly on your forearms, ankles, stomach and collarbone), there’s something so intimate about kissing you, about pressing his lips against yours.

He wants you to initiate it, for you to lean forward, flutter your eyes closed and press your lips against his, for you to sigh lightly, to let your arms wrap around his neck as you kiss him deeply, slowly, meaningfully…

When he coughs into his fist and his gaze darts away from you while he’s got you snuggled up into his side on the couch, just know he could absolutely pin you down and kiss you until you’re gasping for breath, just like he wants to.

But Atsumu has promised himself to be patient with you, that the love he’s convinced you’ll eventually feel will come, but only if he treats you like a queen. And so, while you may have to deal with the (more than occasional) touches and cuddles, Atsumu mostly respects your personal boundaries.

He does not, however, respect your attention.

He wants it.

Constantly.

His clinginess doesn’t just manifest in physical ways, and while you may have believed he was bad before he’s stolen you away, it’s nothing compared to how he acts once you’re in his apartment, under his care – because now, you have no way of escaping those brown eyes that are always fixed on you.

His little whines and sing-songs of your name from across the apartment will be a constant presence in your life, the front door slamming closed while locks click into place and he calls for you to come to the door, I got ya a little present today from ‘Samu!

It’s onigiri he picked up, some homemade desserts from his brother, too, and Atsumu is oh so fucking pleased to show you what he has to offer. Because really, that’s Atsumu’s favorite thing to do; he wants to impress you, to prove to you that he’s worthy of your love, that he’s a good man and would be an even better husband, and what better way than to prove it to you?

He’s always trying to buy you things, both expensive and not. You’ll find new pieces of jewelry (all things you wouldn’t mind buying yourself, if you’d been on the outside of course), new articles of clothing (all fitting you perfectly, despite any irregularities on your body that make it difficult to size), new flowers sitting in vases on the kitchen table when you wake up.

He’s getting you your favorite candies, a constant supply in the kitchen cabinets of your favorite snacks and drinks, a separate credit card in his wallet reserved exclusively for your purchases. (It’s got roughly a million dollars on it – a good year of his own salary, but Atsumu thinks it’s worth it – anything for you to give him those pretty eyes, that gorgeous smile, to feel your hands on his body in a loving way.)

He’s mostly just pathetic; his desperation is palpable, and despite your best intentions, you likely will fall for him. He may be a delusional, mentally disturbed man that stole you away from the world and keeps you locked up where only he can see you, but at least he looks at you like you’re his whole world.

At least he treats you with delicacy, smiling in such a raw, emotional way at you that it makes you have to look away, the plain love and adoration glimmering in those honey eyes making you uncomfortable. At least he cares enough to get the finest things he can buy, all for your comfort and happiness.

And so, while his delusions are strong, eventually Atsumu will be right – because you will love him, eventually, even if you try to fight it. Because after all, when he’s the only one you see everyday, the only voice and touch you’ll know for the rest of your days, he’ll start to seem oddly cute.

Oddly handsome. Oddly endearing. Oddly enough, your only choice.

So really, just accept him – you’ll get unconditional love for the rest of your life, and Atsumu has more than enough money and adoration for you to last both of your lifetimes. So really, just let it happen.

PUNISHMENTS:

Because Atsumu has such strong worshipper tendencies, getting him mad is actually a bit of a challenge. And getting him actually mad at you is even harder.

He loves you – fuck does he love you, or at least as close to love as his obsession can get. And while he’s maybe not the most chivalrous man on Earth, Atsumu has always been taught that women are to be treated with respect and dignity. And so, he’ll never be one to physically strike you.

He hates the idea of you getting hurt just in general; the moment he sees a bruise on your pretty skin, a scratch along your knee or a papercut on your finger, he quite frankly loses his mind. His mind is racing with questions of how that injury possibly got there, how you could’ve been out of his sight long enough to hurt yourself, why he couldn’t stop you from getting it.

He’s blaming himself as the reason why you’re crying, your lip bit between your teeth as you hiss and stare at the small papercut, the stinging sensation not horribly painful, but certainly not pleasant. He’ll race up to you, eyes wide and his voice stuck in his throat, examining the injury with careful fingers.

His eyes will well with tears too, his heart breaking as he realizes he’s directly responsible, that although he wasn’t the hot water that burned your poor pinky, he let you touch the water. He may have been at work, just barely walking through the door, but it’s his responsibility to take care of you, just as a good partner should. And so, in order to get Atsumu mad, a few things need to happen;  a perfect storm must be created, and frankly almost none of it is your fault. Firstly, Atsumu’s day must have gone poorly.

He must’ve had a bad practice, lost a match, been insulted one too many times by Sakusa, or gotten chewed out by his mom or brother. Something must have happened to irritate him, serving his mood to be a bit fouler than usual.

He must have hit traffic on his way home to you, the clock in his nice, expensive car counting the minutes by, getting later and later as he anxiously taps his fingers against the wheel, letting his eyes dart from the stop-and-go traffic back to the dashboard again.

He has to have felt that he’ll be late in seeing you, that you must be suffering at home all alone without him, probably angry at him for not being home right on time like he always promises to be.

He must have gotten an urgent call as he finally pulled into the apartment’s parking lot, the caller his own coach hoping to go over some new training times with him that Atsumu frankly couldn’t give a shit about.

He must have accidentally fallen on the stairs leading up to the apartment (he never takes the elevator – always says it keeps him in shape, but really he’s noticed that you seem to like his smell when he's just slightly sweaty, the strong musk of his cologne attracting you in just enough to Atsumu’s heart racing), tripping and maybe dropping his phone by accident.

He must’ve had to struggle with the door’s lock for a few moments, his anticipation eating away at him as he fumbled with the keys, before finally – finally – the door is opened and he has access to you. And finally, he needs to see the way you jump up at his greeting, banging your hand against the hot oven stove as you cook yourself some eggs, causing you to yelp and clutch at the finger that has a slight burn.

It’s all of these events together that make Atsumu tip over the edge, the horrible day he’d had along with seeing you hurt yourself making everything collide into a storm, one that makes him drop his athletic bag, his chest heaving, eyes wide and lips parted.

It takes a bit for him to reach that point, but once he does, suddenly the Atsumu before you is no longer the one you recognize.

He’ll stare, unable to form words as you blink back some tears, the burn really not that bad, but your body just can’t help it.

You’re clutching at your finger and hissing under your breath, quickly running towards the sink and letting the cool water stream down over your finger. You sigh slightly in relief, and it’s only as you turn your head and smile briefly at Atsumu that he can feel his limbs again.

Hey, Atsumu. You call, turning back to the sink and putting your finger closer to the spigot, though you know it doesn’t help at all. Suddenly, a clamoring of desperate footsteps sounds behind you, and you stiffen up as hot breath pants against your ear.

Atsumu’s behind you, his body caging yours against the sink as he clambers your hands into his, his own fingers trembling as he stares down at where you were burned. He can barely breath, and as he starts murmuring under his breath, your brows furrow together.

You call his name questioningly, to which Atsumu only responds with don’t talk, just – fuck, just shut up. His voice is a whisper, and although it’s quiet it’s harsh, the sound something you’ve never heard Atsumu make.

Your heart is racing in your chest, a slight bit of fear rolling through you. Was he mad?

Soon he’s taking steps away from you, and you turn around to see him standing in the middle of the kitchen with his hands on his head, fingers grasping at the roots of his hair. He’s staring at the ground, his lips moving quickly but you can’t hear what he’s saying.

You call his name again, concern and fear flowing through you, but as you take careful steps to approach, Atsumu suddenly collapses to his knees, the hard linoleum floor crashing against his bare skin. You wince slightly, knowing that must’ve hurt, but Atsumu doesn’t seem to care – or notice, really.

He’s still murmuring to himself, cradling his head in his hands, and with a deep breath you kneel down in front of him, saying his name again and reaching out to lightly touch his shoulder. As your hand makes contact with the gray of his training shirt, Atsumu stiffens up, his chest no longer heaving, and for a moment you wonder if he’s stopped breathing.

Atsumu? Are you okay- You’re cut off by his hand knocking yours off his shoulder, exposing the way his eyes are wide as they stare down at his knees. ‘s my fault, my fault, my fault.

He’s murmuring to himself, his breath hoarse, and as you stare in concern, suddenly his eyes are snapping to you. He’s staring under his eyelashes, and before you have a chance to ask again if he’s okay, he’s suddenly lunging forward, springing so quickly you let out a small scream.

His hands are on your shoulders as he clutches at you so hard you’re afraid it’ll bruise.

His nose is mere centimeters from yours, his breath fanning across your lips as he heaves, the look in his eye chilling you to the bone. He looks scared, lost, angry, and so, so very unhinged. You gulp, your gaze darting between his eyes. I

t’s my fault. He whispers, to which you open and close your mouth, unsure what he’s talking about. ‘ve been bad, not been treating ya right. Makin’ you go off and hurt yerself, just to get my attention.

He’s still whispering, but somehow it’s getting louder, his every word making you shrink in on yourself. Been bein’ a bad boyfriend, huh? Makin’ ya cry, been treatin’ ya like shit. Your mouth is dry. No way ya love me, ya hear me? No fuckin’ way.

His hands are trembling as they hold you, you realize. It makes your whole body shake.

I fucked it up, made ya hate me. Ya hate me, don’t ya? He's asking you, you think, and you go to answer but he cuts you off. I disgust ya, huh? Rather hurt yerself than love me, huh?

You shake your head no, but Atsumu’s growling, hanging his head down in defeat. Made ya hate me, now you’ll never want me.

It’s silent for a moment, before you slowly – very slowly – shuffle closer to him, letting your arms wrap around his waist. He lets you, his breathing still harsh, and you stay still for a moment once he’s in your embrace.

Shh, I love you, stop doing this. You’re whispering to him, and though you’re just trying to comfort him, a small part of you wonders at how easily the words flow off your tongue. Breath with me, in, now out. In, then out.

Slowly, his breathing gets under control, and once you feel it’s alright, you use your finger to lift up his chin. Look at me, ‘Tsumu. His head snaps up, and for a moment you wonder if the wide eyed look he’s giving you is because of the nickname.

Your heart clenches at the tear tracks running down his cheeks. I love you, kay? I didn’t mean to hurt myself, it’s not your fault.

He’s gaping like a fish, but after a moment he whispers out ya love me?

It’s the most vulnerable, saddest thing you think you’ve ever heard, and without thinking you nod, surprising yourself. Atsumu stills for a moment, before a wide grin breaks across his face, and suddenly he’s on his feet with you in his arms. He spins around, dragging you with him, a laugh in his voice as he calls out ya love me, ya love me!

Soon he’ll stop and hold you close, your forehead to his as he smiles and closes his eyes, whispering the words under his breath.

Ya love me forever, I love ya forever.

Forever.

OVERALL DANGER:

 8/10

Really, Atsumu is not particularly dangerous. The thing that makes him an undesirable yandere, however, is his mixture of determination and delusion.

He’s very, very fixated on making you love him. He’s obsessed with the idea of you; your personality, your beauty, your words, your body, your mannerisms.

To him, everything you do is perfection – and he wants it to be all his, to be only his. He’s possessive, delusional, and frankly always in your business – clingy is a nice word for how often he’s stealing your attention.

He’s always calling your name, placing his hand on your arm, sending you flirty remarks (that are somewhat less effective because of the slight stutter in his voice and the harsh blush on his cheeks, but still oddly sweet, even if the words are a bit creepy).

He’s always in your vicinity, that same lovesick look on his face while he watches you: his brows are tilted slightly upwards, his honey eyes half lidded as he gazes at you, his lips in a slight smile as he rests his chin on his hand, leaning forward at the table he’s seated at to watch you you you.

Atsumu is consumed by thoughts of you at every moment of the day, to the point where even volleyball can’t be considered his love – it’s only you now, for better or for worse. And really, as suffocating and unnerving as having all of the Atsumu Miya’s delusional, twisted love for you is, you’ll eventually find yourself craving it.

After all, there’s something empowering about how you can get the professional athlete on his knees with just a snap of your fingers, practically drooling as he tells you he loves ya, I’d do anythin’ for ya, fuck baby yer so pretty, so good for me, love ya so much it fuckin’ hurts –

He’s a fool in love, truly, but be careful – because a rejection of this fool can land you in serious trouble.

The kind of trouble some twisted, fucked up part of you will grow to love, even if you hate yourself for it.

[winstonhenderson]

𝟏𝟗𝟔𝟖.

𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓐 𝓛𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓚𝓲𝓭 𝓐𝓷𝔂𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮

𝙎𝘼𝘾𝙍𝙄𝙁𝘼𝙈𝙀 𝙎𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎

George’s Notes

We were in India. Another place. Far from home. Enjoying meditation. Having fun. 

This was my passion! In 1966. I brought the sitar and Julia loved it! Or John. Whatever. She used it in her “Norwegian Wood”. I always liked to talk about Ravi to them whenever I got the chance and all of them knew how much I liked Indian culture. So this getaway to our “ideological savior” seemed like a great way to relax ourselves. And for me, a great way to attract the writing pair’s attention! They always put Ringo and me down, even when they don’t necessarily mean it.

But the most important thing to me is that we all cleared our heads. Ritch left first. I felt sad, he and I hang out a lot, so the fact of him leaving first hit hard. Also, I understood why he did, he had bad allergies and the food here was upsetting for him. 

The two that were left gave me a hard time, each in their own way. They talked to each other from time to time. Haven’t seen them talk normally for a while. Paul would be prissy and make stupid comments, while John was unbearlably fucking around with the idea of the religion. Paul was a bit too conservative for this so he left next. He tried out all the things this place had to offer, and I must say, maybe he explored this place the best. Linda was fine too… She is a nice gal. Like Cynthia, who I had the biggest crush on for a very long time. She fit in fine, and only seemed to care about two things; relaxing and John. John decided to stay however long I wanted to stay. Of course, we are quite similar, she was starry eyed too. Pattie and I had a lot of fun together, just hanging about and talking about the most basic stuff. It became a lot quieter since Paul left. John made some jokes but her-or his-or goddamn it, I’ve known this for six years and still can’t get it right! John’s attention was elsewhere. 

What I didn’t expect was that Cynthia and Pattie became close and started to hang out on their own leaving us two behind. This was the chance to sell to John my idea for songs. Although, John looked more spaced out than usual. Offhanded comments here and there. Something about the sun, or nature, or the feel of the wind. John got poetic fast. And now, John and I are sitting here, on the beach. “Geo, do you really believe this small guru?”, oh… This is serious. It’s not really John when it’s serious.

“Yes, why?”

“Hum.”, she took a biscuit.

“Julia, why do you say that?”

“I think he is doing some fraudulent activities. Paul found something while he was scavenging.”

“And you still trust Paul?”, oh no, she is mad. Or no… Dissapointed.

She chuckled.

“Geo, he is still my songwriting partner. And here you are.”

She handed me the paper. It had a complete description of some customers' orders and the amount they charge. There was the order and then a tipping mechanism where they took 50% from people.

“I felt like Maharishi was a good little guru. Always setting up people. Making you bite.”, what the fuck are you saying Lennon!

“Me? We all bit it!”

“You bit it first.”

“Lord, Jules… Could be fake for all I know, or could be I dunno repurposed.”

“George. I’m not exaggerating aaaaand I’m not letting you spend any more money on this SCUM.”

“I know how to handle money! Sometimes better than you! Always better than John!”

“You don’t involve John in this! This is about you!”, Julia.

“Jules, I am not that fifteen year old anymore! I’m twenty five! I can make the right decisions on my own!”

Julia was distraught. But I told her the truth!

“Look, I know you are responsible, sometimes even more responsible than I am, but you are naive! You think everything can be resolved-”

“OF COURSE IT CAN! Julia, you could’ve made it known at any moment that you are a woman and it wouldn’t matter! We are on the toppermost of the poppermost Jules! You wanted to be there, remember!”, think woman, think!

Julia got angry, but not Julia angry but John angry, which was much scarier.

“We are there because people presume we are all men! And you never know what problems would arise should I do that! What if I put myself in danger? No, you in danger! I still don’t know why we’re on top. I know people dislike some of our music and want to see us fail! Half of the time I think our music is pure shite that won’t last a fucking day after if we hadn’t had such good marketing!”

“You must really hate yourself, Julia, if this trip couldn’t get you out of your mindset.”

“Georgie. Was it ever a secret?”, Jules laughed.

That woman drives me insane. I… This whole trip, the reason John was spaced out was because Julia was monitoring what I do! Lord, John or Jules always kept tabs on me! And I wonder how sometimes I could be lucky that Brian didn’t find out something or that Paul didn’t shout at me. Julia had my back! 

“Jules! You should let me fight for myself! Goddamn it! Fuck you! I… Can’t stand you sometimes. I can’t stand that you…”

Push me and want me to write more, sing more, play more? Then as John put me down and snuff out my confidence.

“I cannot let you fuck yourself up because of some unimprotant man and his cult! I can’t let anyone scream at you because of something stupid that happened. George, I do that for Ritch also, though Ritch doesn’t get into sticky situations that much.”

“Stop helping me in the worst possible way. I have to face the consequences! I have to see it for myself.”

“But what if you never figure it out?”, Julia hugged me, “What if you continue believing in your delusion and it costs you everything?”

“JULIA, that is the thing I’M TRYING TO TELL YOU!”, I hugged her.

“What?”

“You have to stop! Paul gave up on you. He married Linda, because he couldn’t marry you! You destroy yourself with drugs. You drift away more often.”

She was speechless.

“You hurt Cynthia, Ritch and I as John because of the stress and misuse of drugs! You are not yourself anymore.”

“You can’t say that you don’t use drugs too…”

“I don’t use them as much as you do. Our mommy’s death broke us. It broke you two the most.”

“Shut up, George.”

And here is John.

“John is becoming his own thing and I don’t think you can even see when you are the one or the-”

“JOHN ISN’T A REAL PERSON!”, he covered his mouth.

“He isn’t a person, he is just a device, an idea!”, he flailed his hands around.

“I can do everything and I don’t need your stupid advice. I came here to tell you and try to get you out of this cult, not to be lectured by some pussy.”

I sighed.

“George, I am going. Enjoy the view. I cannot anymore. I don’t even see properly without me glasses, so what did I even see in this place? Don’t think I didn’t get hopeful when I got here! I did. I was hopeful I would relax. I didn’t. I was scared half of the time someone would fuck up and with any interaction with Paul and other half of the time I was questioning this place. I am restless, and suppose I will be, for the rest of my life.”

“John, I told you what I meant. I am direct. Unlike you, just like Julia. I cannot watch you suffer any longer! I can’t watch people around me suffer! Just think about it! Just think!”

“I feel. I have to feel it’s right.”, John looked at me with teary eyes. Never seen Julia cry as John.

“Alright… I didn’t want to make you cry… Now it looks weird because you are still in that John getup of yours.”

Julia laughed.

“Getup, haha! Geo, you are getting more creative by the day.”

Julia lit up.

“Okay, if you want me to relax so much, I have an idea, juuuust look away for a… Couple of minutes.”

“Oh no, I have encouraged Julia Victoria Lennon to do something.”

She smiled and I turned away. I heard the sound of clothes moving around. Then bandages being taken down. Maybe even a hair tie being let down.

“Turn around!”

Oh, now it’s just Julia.

“Ta-da! Now I can relax.”, she spread herself on the sand.

“Wait- Don’t relax too much! I want to tell you about my songs!”

“Alright, Geo, what do you have in mind?”

I told her every minute detail about the songs I wrote. She listened to me! Yay! And she even approved some! And gave me some tips and tricks to work on my songs. It was really such a nice session of writing. I missed when she would give me some song attention instead of treating me like a little kid who can barely write and play.

“That’s great, I’m so proud of you!”, Julia scratched my head, “Baby George!”

“Augh, I thought you said you’ll stop calling me that!”

“Well, John said that, I didn’t.”

“You can’t get away with this!”

She calmed down.

“But seriously, continue working on this, it will sound better and better. Maybe I could get Paul to approve it-”

“No, I’ll show it to him just like I’ve shown you! Don’t do anything Lennon, I beg of ya!”

“I won’t then.”, she wistfully smiled.

You could sense the feeling of satisfaction coming from her.

“Maybe you aren’t so fragile and small like you were Georgie. But enough about that, I’m going for a swim!”

“Not without me!”

We jumped into the ocean and played around. Julia loved to swim, she was fast on foot, and she was a fast swimmer. She swam almost half a kilometer away in just 12 minutes. How does she do that with our clunky clothes? I followed her but I didn't like the chance of getting an ache and I went back to the shore. I was happy for her. This is the first time she looked naturally relaxed during this entire trip! She swam back after 20 minutes.

“I wonder how you can swim so far and not get scared? Or any aches?”

“I got aches. I just ignore them and paddle my way back, simple as that!”

“You are so weird sometimes!”, I chuckled, “And capable!”

“Um, that’s my job as your leader, dummy!”, she knocked my head.

I laughed.

“I wish I could relax like this everyday!”

“Well, that isn’t happening. But, I have a mystery to debunk, and that is Maharishi’s history. I’ll have fun.”

“You are still on about what Paul said? How about you stop thinking about him and just think about hm…”

“No, I’m doing more as a fuck you to cultists then because of Paul. I’m angry at Paul. I’m miserable because of him.”

“Glad you understand basic human emotions.”

She giggled.

“Okay, Harrison. Tell ya if I find more evidence, but knowing these kinds of trickster buggers, you won't be waiting much!”

The sun was setting and we were gazing at the view. Until I heard some movement in the trees.

“Where did we end up? Are you sure both of them are here! Oh, look, there is George!”, Pattie! Darling!

“Come here! Missed you so much!”, I hugged her.

“Where’s John?”, Cynthia wondered. 

Oh my Lord, where is Julia?

“Um, I dunno, he was just here with me.”

I searched with my eyes and found Julia hiding behind a rock all panic ridden.

“Why are there bandages on the floor?”, Pattie asked.

Cynthia realized what had happened.

“Just some trash we encountered, how awfully dirty the tourists here must be!”

“I’ll then find a rubbish bin suitable for them.”, Cynthia, thank you for taking care of John. I’m glad Julia chose to be with you and pretend than anyone else.

Julia looked at me. Her look was basically telling me: “What do we do? Should I go out or not? No, tell them to leave! Give Cynthia a sign to make them leave. I don’t want anyone else finding out.”

I scoffed.

“Where did you scoff at.”, Pattie said, “At that rock!”

Julia came out with her hands crossed.

Cyn was shocked but relieved to see her. She was waiting for what Julia would do.

“OH, it’s John, see Cyn we found him! Though I must say you look more frail than usual.”

“What can I say? This sun eats ya!”

We chuckled.

“And I had to see what Cyn’s relief looked like. Never expected such a big reaction from ya.”

“How can I not react that way when I love you so much!”, she ran towards Julia and hugged her as hard as possible, “I was already thinking I had to call the search party to search all over!”

“Don’t worry Cyn, I can handle a little labyrinth!”

“I don’t think so!”

“Alriiight.”, Julia sighed, smiling.

“Glad we are all here then! Let’s all go back together to our houses!”, Pattie was happy.

“Nah, I’d like to stay here a bit longer with Cyn.”, Julia disappointed me yet again.

“Oh- Oh, well have fun!”, Pattie waved them goodbye and I took her hand.

I sent another look to Julia. It meant “When are you going to stop lying!”

I figured Cyn helped Julia get bandaged up, because it was going to be dinner time soon. The rest of the day went normally. And the rest of the vacation was great, though it was cut short because of John’s investigation! He found out that Maharishi is a fraud, and really a fraud! So I dug deeper, and found the same, with more evidence! We united the evidence and presented it to the man, who said we were exaggerating and not understanding what it said!

“Look, you can’t deny your eyes and there are two of us claiming this against you! You lied to me!”, I began, “You lied to me that money wasn’t that important!”

“Well, I didn’t say that it was not necessary, you got to make a living!”

“By scamming others, not such a little good guru afterall! With this kind of behavior, I would’ve thought you would also pay flying carpet lessons!”

Maharishi chuckled.

“You know, this proves you’ll be absolutely the same as before if you leave. You, Lennon, have something to hide. Always look like that. You think you are clever, but you are not. You are empty, surrounded by enlightening remarks. But what is their purpose, you don’t know. For you, George Harrison, you will still be that insecure and childish egoist I met. Direct and naive; curious too. No wonder you dragged the whole group of you to-”

John was angry.

“You are not going to talk that way about us UNLESS I say what I think about you first! You are a snide, privacy breaking, yellow bellied, ass licking, greedy son of a bitch who likes to think he is so high and mighty! So it is just right to take away people’s hard earned cash like that!”

“The Beatles are basically the same thing!”

“We make good music.”, John replied.

“And we make good points? Explain the difference, Lennon, explain it! Oh, and haven’t seen this much emotion from you during your whole stay, I’m glad-”

“Because I didn’t get mad!”

“I’ll answer instead. We follow the regulations. We are not some other outside organization. We aren’t money grubbing. Maybe our producers are. And I know we will fix that when we find some inconsistencies.”, I jumped in to help.

“Maybe we are materialistic, but we aren’t putting other people in DEBT you whore! I checked multiple times.”, John continued.

“To check isn’t in character for John Lennon.”, Maharishi chuckled.

“It is if I think so. I don’t con people.”, John answered feeling confused on why Maharishi would say that. Then the guru scammer smiled.

“I’ll figure you out, Lennon. You have something to hide.”

John chuckled, “To hide is to survive? Isn’t that the principle of not getting caught in your scam?”

Maharishi got serious.

“You are feeling guilty of your scamming and blaming others, meanwhile I don’t have anything to declare.”, John stated with confidence.

“I know a deviant when I see them.”

“Oh, and now it’s John’s fault I have turned against you, isn’t it!”, I figured it out, “Trying to blame him for my complaint!”

Maharishi looked at me with some kind of disgust.

“Of course. Of course, we are leaving now. This instant.”, I got mad.

“Don’t go mad Georgie, this mister right here can use it against ya. You have to be relaxed and fulfilled, like he said. That’s how you get happiness, right?”, John joked.

I chuckled and calmed down.

“Yer right.”

“Well, mister, we loved the island and all, but you're a fraud and we have to go!”, John waved him goodbye and I followed. Maharishi pulled me back.

“Mr. Harrison, don’t listen to him!”, he told me, “He is a deviant, a snake, presenting himself as he isn’t!”

“And why would I not? He is one the lads! And you are the snake here.”

“No, no, that’s not a “lad” as you say, not a traditional lad, that’s a hijra.”

“A what now?”

“A… neither male nor female.”

I looked at him blankly. So he figured out the twin tale?

“You cannot trust someone who doesn’t know what they are. And this person, this “John Lennon” as they call itself, is absolutely not trustworthy. Always joking around, always monitoring you, always making inappropriate and underhanded comments. You want freedom and expression right?”

Lord, this slimy motherfucker.

“John is still one of my best friends and pals. You can’t make me stay here any longer. You just made me more angry and volatile. And you accuse John of such heinous acts with no evidence to support it.”

I began walking away towards John, who was packing with Cynthia and Pattie.

“Oh, I understand now. You know of Lennon’s decadency even before I even tell you! Both of you are flawed, go then! I don’t need a place for rude and deviant people like you!”

“Oh, where’s the “we welcome everyone to our family!” or “we are happy to accept any LOST soul”.”, John argued.

Maharishi smiled and walked up to John. He said something to him that made him shiver. Still John behaved cocky and said,

“Oh, I promise I’ll do that. For the chance to piss you off, I’ll continue doing that for as long as I want to!”

We boarded the boat. I looked at John perplexed. 

“What happened for us to go earlier?”, Pattie wondered.

“John, what did you do?”, Cyn asked.

“Absolutely nothing that deserved that kind of send off! Accusing me of deviancy just because George and I handed in some damning evidence that Maharishi scams people!”

“That’s… Fun.”, Cynthia sighed, “Well, at least we’re in one piece and haven’t been held up by that con artist in any other way.”

“You are so smart, Cyn.”, John chuckled, “Yer right as ever.”

John proceeded to kiss her. Before that he gave her a small, not really noticeable sign. He always warned Cyn before kissing her. But I never really noticed Cyn tensing up before the act.

I kissed Pattie as well and whispered in her ear:

“I’m glad this hellish discussion is over and you have absolutely nothing to do with it!”

“I’m glad you’re okay, George.”

Pattie looked at Cynthia and John, “Let’s go inside, it’s getting a bit chilly in here.”

“Wait for us two inside then, I have to talk to John about this shit in private.”

The wives giggled.

“Alright then, George, we’ll be inside. If you need any advice or a shoulder to cry on, you know where to find us!”

“Pattie, sometimes you could be so funny!”, my sweet Pattie.

“And not always? The insolence of this young man! We are going inside, pronto!”, Cynthia pulled Pattie with her.

John rolled his eyes while chuckling.

“No wonder Cyn is my best female friend.”

“Well, a wife is a best friend too.”, I joked.

There was a small pause. We looked at the ocean and the waves splashing in the sun. 

“John, what did that son of a bitch tell you?”

“There is something called a hijra in Indian or Southeastern culture. It is a person in drag, a person who identifies as the opposite gender… He told me that he figured out I was in drag. He told me I can’t keep it together and remain normal if I ever was. He told me I corrupted you… He told me I will drag the entire band into ruin. And even if I told everyone the truth that I would make everything the Beatles did worthless and meaningless.”

“What a freak!”, I couldn’t believe it. Maharishi was today very awful towards us, especially towards John. Was he always a bit more awful to women? Now that I think about it, he didn’t talk that much with our wives. He focused on us four. What a scammer.

“I know that, but it does send shivers down my spine, y’know.”

“I’m just happy we had fun and we’re going home, Jules.”, ahh, fuck this man.

“Yeah, I’m happy too. Let’s go inside, Geo.”

“Yeah. Thanks for looking out for me… But please don’t do it as much anymore, Julia.”

“I’ll try not to. And… Perhaps, baby George is right about some things.”

I think some things are going to change in the Beatles and I hope for the better. The most important thing is that I have proven that I’m not a child anymore - I’m an adult who speaks his mind and deserves to be listened to. Perhaps, they will put more songs on the next album… Can’t wait to work with Ritch again…

Rest of Sacrifame

[sen-no-kotowari]

PGR S Fire Lee Character Profile

Good day! I hope everyone's enjoying the Spiral of Chronos Patch over on JP Servers (*‘ω‘ *) There's so much Lee content popping given that it's July so in a way the Lee enthusiasts are having a buffet field day! (≧▽≦) That said, here is S Fire Lee's Character Profile! I will be posting the translation his Character Version Image Song some time this week as I'm working with a personal project that I may possibly post as well so look forward to it if you're interested. In comparison to the inital release in the CN servers, they re-recorded most of Lee's lines so what you hear on the video link may not necessarily reflect what you hear in-game as of late in the JP servers. You can learn more about the expanded lore on Lee on the cut down below!

Voice Line Data

Motion Voice Lines

Lobby Voice 1

Lee: (Checks gun) ...Can't I stay here even if I don't have any other business with you? I wish to do my gun maintenance in a quiet place. The maintenance room's too crowded.

Lobby Voice 2

Lee: I was worried when I heard that Murray became the Cerberus Unit's leader if he could ever manage those rowdy bunch and all... But it seems like I was worried over nothing. He's all grown up now. However, I think the Gray Raven Unit is okay the way it is. Heh, it's because you won't do a break dance while there's an ongoing meeting... You won't, right...?

Lobby Voice 3

Lee: Humans have long since used an hourglass to measure time. While I can't say it's accurate, it was, however, the most optimal way of showing how time cannot be reversed―that's right, we, who exist in a three-dimensional plane, can't wind back time. Humans can't alter the past even if we come to regret it. ...What about me, you ask? I don't have any regrets. Even if there are countless branch points in each moment, I will surely find my way back to your side.

Raise Affection Level

Lee: Thank you, this is just what I need right now. With this, I can also complete that support robot I promised to finish― ...Huh? This is a present for me? So there's even a fine distinction made when it comes to gifts, huh...

Repetitive Taps

Lee: ...What the- ...To think there's this fully grown troublemaker inside the Raven Unit's base huh. Shall I drag you to the juvenile detention center then?

Log-In

Lee: You're here now. ...If I can never meet you again at some point in the future, I might feel sad from loneliness. ...Forget it. We have a mission to accomplish, let's get going.

Online for a Long Time

Lee: I'll do the remaining ones left, just go rest. Now! I've had enough of looking at how you look like a loitering zombie, you're spoiling the pleasant scene around us.

AFK

Lee: ...Commander, commander? ...(Sigh) You actually fell asleep from exhaustion, huh. You left your combat terminal open, guess you can't settle down without it... Really, I ought to tuck you in somewhere quiet. ...You lost some weight again... How much work did you take on this time...

Shake

Lee: ...Wha— Commander! ...Heh, you sure don't get tired of this same old trick.

Offline for a Long Time

Lee: Where have you been until now?! ...If you had made up your mind to walk out from here, I wish you could've at least said a proper goodbye then. ...No, it doesn't matter now, since you returned here in the end.

Introduction and Formation

Structure Acquired

Lee: Lee of the Gray Raven Unit, reporting. Yes, I'm back now. Other than needing to get along with each other, let's skip the unnecessary greetings and get right down to business, Commander.

Level Up

Lee: What accumulated was just the combat data itself, so I can't say for sure if I've improved. This is still nowhere near the model's limit.

Advancement

Lee: If it's a rise in rank from you, then its meaning also changes. ...Understood, I'll work hard to keep your expectations in check.

Model Improvement

Lee: The peak of evolution means breaking through one's limits as well as knowing there's a realm ahead of us we neither can understand nor have yet to encounter. ...Although taking a step inside that realm would require a significant sacrifice to be paid, I have the determination to see through it all.

Skill Upgrade

Lee: How about giving me some credit? The thrusters are now more responsive and more efficient because of this process. Seems like I'm quite accustomed to this model more than I thought.

Equipment

Lee: Testing auto preset rate, all-green. Measuring microwave distance, all-green. Since this is a highly precise piece of equipment, it's important to check that each module is working fine.

Add in Team

Lee: If you notice some sort of cue mid-battle, get away from my projectile's trajectory ASAP. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Assign as Captain

Lee: Calm down, it's okay to leave everything to me. I'll protect you guys.

Mission Accomplished

Lee: Not bad. You're becoming more efficient.

Daily Small Talks

Voice Line 1

Lee: No, I'm not mad or anything. This is how I usually am.

Voice Line 2

Lee: Rather than forcing them to cooperate, wouldn't it be more efficient to assign people to what they're good at?

Voice Line 3

Lee: ...Excuse me? I don't think it's my fault that the atmosphere became awkward. ...There's something you want to talk about? If it's about the issue on the Science Council's IUO Standard No. 9, I'd oblige to discuss it with you at great lengths though.

Voice Line 4

Lee: I promised that I'd never keep secrets from you ever again so if there's something you want to ask me, feel free to ask me anything.

Voice Line 5

Lee: (Checks gun) ...Can't I stay here even if I don't have any other business with you? I wish to do my gun maintenance in a quiet place. The maintenance room's too crowded.

Voice Line 6

Lee: You want to see the non-combat functions added to the weapon I've modified? Why do you— ...Guess it can't be helped then. I'll only show it to you once so keep your eyes peeled.

Voice Line 7

Lee: If we have nothing else to do today, want to train with me at the base? I still need to make some adjustments to this model, but it'd be challenging to adjust the result calculations without your cooperation.

Voice Line 8

Lee: I knew this part is... it'd be faster if I disassemble it once and reassemble it... Hm? Well, I'm currently doing maintenance on your powered suit. I should just let the guys at the Cosmos Engineer Union handle that...? It's fine if it's just regular maintenance, but they don't know your movement habits. Whenever you draw out your tactical knife from your left side, there's some kind of resistance around this part, right? I've already adjusted that problem.

Voice Line 9

Lee: Even if all of creation would continue to evolve, the collective matter of space will never change for all time—death follows life, and energy is concurrently generated from annihilation. If one wishes to obtain something, one must pay the price for it one day, without exceptions... Commander, behind every "miracle" that happens... correspond a sacrifice greater than you could imagine.

Voice Line 10

Lee: I was worried when I heard that Murray became the Cerberus Unit's leader if he could ever manage those rowdy bunch and all... But it seems like I was worried over nothing. He's all grown up now. However, I think the Gray Raven Unit is okay the way it is. Heh, it's because you won't do a break dance while there's an ongoing meeting... You won't, right...?

Voice Line 11

Lee: Updating the existing tactics, thinking outside the box, and even complying and sympathizing with the enemies... If I'm being honest, I couldn't understand your style of leading us at first. But now, I can have complete faith in all your decisions.

Voice Line 12

Lee: Humans have long since used an hourglass to measure time. While I can't say it's accurate, it was, however, the most optimal way of showing how time cannot be reversed―that's right, we, who exist in a three-dimensional plane, can't wind back time. Humans can't alter the past even if we come to regret it. ...What about me, you ask? I don't have any regrets. Even if there are countless branch points in each moment, I will surely find my way back to your side.

Voice Line 13

Lee: You saw what my real name was in a file? ...Oh, well, it's not something confidential anyway. Besides, I am Lee of the Gray Raven Unit now. What I thought was a temporary code name given to me became a part of who I am today and is something I take great pride in. I plan to fight as "Lee" right until the very end.

Voice Line 14

Lee: Tactical cooperation, huh... That kind of thing doesn't exist back where I used to live. There was only constant betrayal and plunder at that place. Everyone became desperate to cross over that infernal sea, so they pushed others off to the edge and used them as their bridge... But now I don't have to think about it. Even though I repeatedly told myself I don't believe in things like luck, I could say that joining the Gray Raven Unit and crossing paths with you... was the most fortunate thing that ever happened to me.

Voice Line 15

Lee: "You're never alone," huh? ...I think those words are indeed solemn. No... It's exactly because they are important that I don't want to see the person who said those words to me suffer. So "it'd be a lot better than trying to bear everything by myself," hmm... I used to think that way before, but in the end, only an even more tragic end awaits. I get what you're trying to tell me. Commander, we'll support each other from now on and get through this, no matter what.

Raise Affection Level

Voice Line 1

Lee: Since we're all on the same team, there's no need to personally hand out resources to every single member.

Voice Line 2

Lee: Why are you suddenly... Don't you have anything better to do?

Voice Line 3

Lee: Equivalent exchange... I'll never forget the principle behind it. All of the things I've received from you are engraved in my heart.

Voice Line 4

Lee: You're giving this to me? ...Uh, thanks...I guess.

Voice Line 5

Lee: Here, I finished fixing your mini robot. While I'm at it, I've also added a voice memo function to it. Huh? You...want to change the default voice data to my voice? S-stop thinking about those kinds of ideas!

Voice Line 6

Lee: ...Did you give this to other people too?

Voice Line 7

Lee: You've always remained the same even from way back then... Ah, no. I'm not complaining about it. It's... fine for you to stay the same for who you are.

Voice Line 8

Lee: Where the heck do you find these things... Wait a minute, I never said I don't need this, right? The things I've already received are mine now.

Voice Line 9

Lee: You want to try out the new weapon I use? Well, it's still in its prototype stage, so I don't think it's at a level that can be mass-produced though. There's sort of a trick in each of its module settings, do you want me to teach you those tricks? It's complex, but it's quite remarkable as a weapon. I'm the only one who currently has mastered it anyhow.

Voice Line 10

Lee: You don't need to go out of your way... I'll respond to your expectations. ...So long as it's not relatively unreasonable, that is.

Voice Line 11

Lee: So long as I'm here, you don't have to worry. Everything's going to be all right.

Voice Line 12

Lee: Thank you, this is just what I need right now. With this, I can also complete that support robot I promised to finish― ...Huh? This is a present for me? So there's even a fine distinction made when it comes to gifts, huh...

Voice Line 13

Lee: You're expecting me to spew some affectionate words? You better stop expecting then. Well if you're that desperate, let's see what kind of stereotypical lines you'll show me. ...Ack! O-okay, that's enough...! That's plenty enough for an example!

Voice Line 14

Lee: (Sigh) ...Hm? Is there something troubling me, you ask? Not really. The cost of sealed warehouses is currently on the rise, so I'm thinking about what's the best way to store your belongings. ...I-it's nothing, forget it!

Voice Line 15

Lee: While I'm not a person who'd easily make promises, from the very beginning until this day... Rather, until the lasting future ahead of us, I'll live up to my promise that I'd always stay by your side no matter what.

Voice Line 16

Lee: Here you go, my gift in return for everything. It's a mini locator made from the old power core that was extracted when my model was undergoing maintenance. So long as you always have this, you can know my location even if comms get cut off. If you push the button, I'd also know where you are. If you wish for me to be by your side, I'll absolutely come running to your side, no matter how far apart we are from each other. I promise.

AFK

Voice Line 1

Lee: Why are you staring at me? Is the strategic report written on my face or something?

Voice Line 2

Lee: When we were kids, I made this toy called "Sippy Chicken"[1] so I could explain to Murray the principles behind heat energy. ...Why am I suddenly talking about it? That's because you were frequently nodding your head low enough to hit the desk, just like that toy bird.

Voice Line 3

Lee: Commander, about the result of that experiment we did the other day-... Commander? No one's here, huh... Quite likely, considering they're the type of person who can't stay still. ...I guess I should wait for a while then.

Voice Line 4

Lee: Be good and go to sleep already if you're feeling drowsy. ...There aren't any emergency missions right now so it's fine if you don't push yourself too much. ...Just relax and close your eyes now, will you. I'll wake you up when needed.

Voice Line 5

Lee: ...Commander, commander? ...(Sigh) You actually fell asleep from exhaustion, huh. You left your combat terminal open, guess you can't settle down without it... Really, I ought to tuck you in somewhere quiet. ...You lost some weight again... How much work did you take on this time...

Online for a Long Time

Voice Line 1

Lee: Are you attached to that chair or something?

Voice Line 2

Lee: Sure is nice if you could remember one good way to shirk off work.

Voice Line 3

Lee: Seems like I need to attach a system that could pick up mental fatigue from the brain wave activity on that chair, but... If the numbers reach a dangerously low range, it'd immediately force you to sleep― ...hm? You'd like to work for just a bit longer? I trust you know what'd happen if you lied through your teeth then.

Voice Line 4

Lee: I'll do the remaining ones left, just go rest. Now! I've had enough of looking at how you look like a loitering zombie, you're spoiling the pleasant scene around us.

Voice Line 5

Lee: Is this some kind of revenge plan against everyone in the Gray Raven Unit? ...What am I insinuating, you ask? Hah. Are you trying to prove your point that humans could also work for three days straight without any rest like us Structures? ...We promised that we both won't work ourselves to death ever again, so you should also get some rest now.

Log-In

Voice Line 1

Lee: Good morning, you awake now?

Voice Line 2

Lee: That's good, the time you arrived sure is on point. Keep up with that. What time did I arrive? Just a few minutes earlier than you.

Voice Line 3

Lee: I thought I heard a loud, boisterous voice from afar but, don't tell me Kamui dropped by again, did he?

Voice Line 4

Lee: Commander, you came just at the right time. About those prospective experiments I mentioned yesterday, I just thought of one more idea for that.

Voice Line 5

Lee: You're here now. ...If I can never meet you again at some point in the future, I might feel sad from loneliness. ...Forget it. We have a mission to accomplish, let's get going.

Voice Line 6

Lee: I'm not spacing out, I'm just thinking about the Monty Hall problem[2]. If I eliminate the doors that haven't been opened, which of the remaining doors will you show up on... Hm? There's only one door in this room...? .......(clears throat)......

Voice Line 7

Lee: Last night, did you stay up late again? Taking good care of yourself is also one of your responsibilities to your team. I'm sure you know that better since you were an honor student, right? Your average sleeping time as of late is just― ...Huh? Why do I know, you ask? ...Obviously, I learned about it from Laplace's demon[3].

Voice Line 8

Lee: Good morning, did you have a good night's sleep? ...Yeah. Should we try a different greeting for tomorrow since today's greeting was okay? Since I have to greet you every day starting today, I wonder if it'd be better if we decide together on which greeting we both like. So tell me, which do you prefer?

Offline for a Long Time

Lee: Where have you been until now?! ...If you had made up your mind to walk out from here, I wish you could've at least said a proper goodbye then. ...No, it doesn't matter now, since you returned here in the end.

Shake

Voice Line 1

Lee: Graagh... ...No, it's not your fault. My Sea of Consciousness just suddenly went into an overload state. There's no need for you to worry about it... Stay still... Yeah, I'll recover from this in a minute.

Voice Line 2

Lee: ...Wha— Commander! ...Heh, you sure don't get tired of this same old trick.

Voice Line 3

Lee: If you get thrown off balance, I'll reflexively catch you and act as your cushion. ...As if. I'm kidding, let's stop this conversation. Please be more careful so you won't get hurt in the future.

Repetitive Taps

Voice Line 1

Lee: ...What the- ...To think there's this fully grown troublemaker inside the Raven Unit's base huh. Shall I drag you to the juvenile detention center then?

Voice Line 2

Lee: You think I won't fight back from this?

Voice Line 3

Lee: For the times you've poked me, I'll be repaying you exponentially. ...Hmm, so it's at a total number of 133637 times then. Now then, are you prepared to accept some "repayment?"

Activity Task Full

Lee: Activity level's reached the maximum level. We should leave our work progress here for now.

Battle Dialogues

Battle Start/Character Switch

Lee: Simulation complete. Commander, we'll emerge as the victors here.

Voice Line 1

Lee: I'll be the one to reign over your time!

Voice Line 2

Lee: There's no escape from my line of sight!

Voice Line 3

Lee: Your survivability rate's hit zero!

Voice Line 4

Lee: You can't escape now!

Voice Line 5

Lee: This is the end!

Ultimate Skill

Lee: Perish... for all time!

Light Damage

Lee: It's nothing serious, let's stay focused.

Heavy Damage

Lee: Graagh... I won't let it end, not here, not this moment.

Incapacitated

Lee: I'll stand back up if I have to... No matter what...

Friend Support

Lee: You did well holding out, leave the rest to me.

QTE

Lee: Target locked on, fire at max power!

Battle End

Lee: Guh! It's too early to let up your nerves, Commander.

Structure Documentation

Document Detail 1

BPN-06, Attacker-type, Model Name: Hyperreal―an Omega-type Specialized Structure model developed by the Science Council based on Kurono's Inverse Device research as well as the meager information deciphered from the polymerized fragment. All of its functions are fine-tuned to the model's stability, making it impervious to the Punishing's side effects.

Document Detail 2

Both the model's energy distribution capability and the computational capacity modulator are strengthened, allowing the model to perform numerous computations. In addition, to ensure the model's stability, all its external equipment uses synthetic nano-carbon metal tubes, and their thermal conductivity is increased to make the equipment lightweight.

Document Detail 3

Only a person who extensively understands small arms could utilize sophisticated and complex heavy artillery like Lee's composite armament. Although it could adapt to every battlefield, it's difficult to operate and warrants a highly stable model, currently making the Hyperreal model the only one capable of wielding this weapon.

Document Detail 4

Although this model that takes pride in its peerless computational abilities can execute multiple simultaneous high-precision computations, the burden on Lee's Sea of Consciousness constantly reaches its critical point. However, nobody knows the actual situation behind it since Lee never reports it, persuading himself that "the data deviation in his Sea of Consciousness doesn't trigger so it won't cause any impediments to my day-to-day operation."

Document Detail 5

While the development of the Omega-type Specialized Models that centered around Liv progressed, Lee willingly volunteered to participate since Liv's Sea of Consciousness was damaged during the Solaeter's development, stating that his Sea of Consciousness was "far more stable." The first time he learned that he was originally the first choice for the Omega-type Specialized Models was after he had formally participated.

Document Detail 6

Lee couldn't remember the whispers he hears in his dreams or the confusing sceneries he sees. However, if one were to ask him if he could feel the fear and worries looming when one fights alone, he would calmly deny it―because he knows for a fact that there would always be someone who'd light the beacon behind him and illuminate the way back to where he belongs, no matter how far away he is.

Rumors and Secrets

Secret 1 The exterior appearance of Lee's new model is quite different thus far, so several people talked about how the Hyperreal model looks. However, Lee himself never once noticed that he became a hot topic of conversation around him.

Secret 2 Since Lee used to often work late at night back when he was with Kurono, he still has the habit of burning the midnight oil. When he first arrived in Eden, there used to be a rumor circulating that a ghost would appear in the maintenance room when the clock strikes at midnight.

Secret 3 Even though he didn't have any interest in philosophy at first, Lee started reading books about "the concept of time" and "time and sentience" and seems to have been taking notes on the topic ever since he changed to his Hyperreal model.

Secret 4 During his spare time, Lee adjusts the weapons and exoskeleton of the other members of the Gray Raven Unit to match each of their habits. He voluntarily does this kind of work because previously "our equipment's weapon alignment was off-point and because of that, the Commander had a dislocation injury during our practical combat training."

Secret 5 Lee tried to modify his model and hide one reflective part as he failed to understand the design intent behind it. However, one researcher told him "that part regulates heat circulation" and gave up on the idea.

Secret 6 His hobbies are solving numerical puzzle games. Everyone in the Gray Raven Unit tried it once, but the only person who understood the fun behind these logical games is the Commander.

Secret 7 He dislikes having Kurono as the conversation topic. Even though he seemed to just lightly sweep Vera's badgers under the rug, Lee feels bitter about the fact he used to work for them in the past.

Secret 8 He added the Gray Raven's logo on the inner side of the model's coat himself. He hasn't told anyone about it, but everyone noticed the addition when his model underwent modification enhancement.

Secret 9 Even though he preferred his old hair color, the development staff from the Arts Association told him that "they don't have the material for that particular color in stock." Left with the choice of either choosing a different hair color or, as suggested by Asimov, "make a hat-type Inverse Device," Lee chose the former.

Secret 10 Lee modified his right arm to attune himself with his new weapon, but it became difficult for his arm to pass through the right sleeve of his coat post-modification. He had accidentally torn the sleeve apart thrice just by putting strength in his arm, and when he finally had enough, Lee decided to wear the right side over his shoulder instead.

Secret 11 When they were little, he and Murray made a "secret code" only they know about that the two of them use during their transmission with each other. Although Lee hasn't used their secret code in a while, it appears that he used it again in a recent transmission he received from Murray.

Secret 12 The reason why Lee seldom cooks is that the moment he acquires condiments and spices, the whole kitchen turns into a large-scale laboratory―he will only season the food if the condiment is weighed in milligrams. Surprisingly enough, however, it did make him good at brewing coffee because the Commander drinks coffee every morning.

水飲み鳥 (Lit TL: Water Drinking Bird) or Drinking Bird/Dippy Bird/Sippy Chicken is a toy heat engine mimicking the motion of birds drinking from a water source.

The Monty Hall problem is a probability puzzle type of brain teaser named after the host of an old game show titled "Let's Make a Deal."

Laplace's demon is a notable published articulation of causal determinism on a scientific basis written by French scholar Pierre-Simon de Laplace in the 19th Century.