#I screwed up and left this on my work computer

[theladycarpathia]

I'm always waiting for you to be waiting below

Prompt: Microwave Dinner

Billy doesn’t even hear Max until the microwave dings.

“You’re going to burn it,” she grumbles, as she waits for him to pull the crappy microwave dinner out. Billy bites back a curse as the steam singes his fingers.

“It might improve it,” Billy mutters, because the charcoal might actually add some flavor to the mounds of dry potato, carrots and turkey. That was all Neil and Susan had left behind in the fridge for them and Billy wasn’t about to waste his limited funds on grocery shopping.

He waits for it to cool before he tugs off the film and hands it to her. She doesn’t wait for him before she bolts back into the living room and whatever show she’s chosen.

Of course not.

He shoves in the second tinfoil tray in the microwave and puts in the allotted time. While it spins slowly on the plate he leans against the kitchen counter, ignoring the faint sounds of Max turning the TV volume up too high. It would be fine if her choice of entertainment weren’t such trash.

He didn’t know exactly what he was expecting but it wasn’t this.

The microwave dings again and he yanks open the door, tugging the tray out onto the counter and staring at the bland dinner that is apparently all his eighteenth birthday is worth.

He hadn’t expected a lot. But Neil and his stepmother vanished out of the door, leaving him with a microwave dinner and babysitting duties wasn’t it.

Even Max has barely acknowledged the date, instead piling into the Camaro after school, flushed and ten minutes late after the bell. There was a vaguely shifty expression on her face when he’d asked why she wasn’t on time, a defensiveness in the way she’d hauled her skateboard onto her lap. Billy figured she’d just been caught up with that boy and let it go.

At least someone has friends who care.

He grabs a fork and follows Max into the living room. She’s curled up on the couch, legs tucked up underneath her. Her red hair is twisted into two thick plaits and that alone probably says something about how much she’s grown. When she was little, she never used to bother, keeping her long red hair loose around her face. But these days, she wears cute t-shirts, twists her hair into little knots, keeps a lip gloss on her bedside table. 

“Slow down,” he mutters, carefully juggling the hot tray while he peels off the film. Max barely blinks as she shoves dry mashed potato into her mouth.

“It’s fine,” Max says, licking her lip.

“Fine, choke, see if I care,” Billy says flatly and Max smirks.

“You wish,” she retorts. She chews furiously on her last carrot and stands up, empty tray in her hands. “Can I go? I’ve got homework. Here, you can have this.” She doesn’t even wait for an answer, instead chucking the remote control down next to Billy. Billy feels oddly empty as she vanishes, leaving him alone with the jarring sounds of the TV and his rapidly cooling dinner.

He tries not to care. No one’s really given a shit about his birthday since his mom left. Neil certainly didn’t. For a few years after Max and Susan turned up, there was at least cake and a few wrapped presents. Usually shit that Neil thought was an appropriate gift, rather than Billy actually wanted but at least the day was acknowledged. There was a card waiting by his plate at breakfast this morning and that was it. No tapes, no basketball, no socks, or any of the usual shit he gets stuck with. 

It would have been fine, except he’s not heard from…he’s not heard anything all day. He half expected the BMW to be waiting for him in the parking lot - not that with his expected babysitting duties, they could even have gone to the quarry like normal - but it just wasn’t there. Billy had kept an eye on the road while he was waiting for Max, just in case it pulled in late.

But it didn’t and Billy was well and truly crushed.

He gets it. The day Billy Hargrove was born was a celebration to no one.

He morosely eats his meal, barely even tasting any of it. When he’s done, he gets up, figuring that he may as well clean up. If Max is in her room for the night maybe he can watch something decent.

He gathers up both containers and retrieves Max’s abandoned cutlery from the side. He knows the drill. His birthday will not save him from a bruised eye if the kitchen hasn’t been cleaned.

Max sticks her head into the kitchen just as he begins to run the tap. He tries his best to ignore her but she walks over to him like it’s any other day.

“What do you want, maggot?” Billy grunts, because he fully expects her to ask for dessert. Which, aside from a few old bananas and some stale chocolate chips from Susan’s last happy homemaker baking binge, they don’t have any of.

“Come with me,” Max says firmly. Billy digs his heels in, because he can, because he’s had enough, because he’s eighteen and no one cares.

“Get lost, Maxine,” he says, slamming the cutlery into the sink far harder than he really needs to.

“No, you have to come with me now,” she insists and actually grabs hold of his wrist. Her fingers are thin and delicate around his skin, faint flecks of blue nail varnish on her fingers. Billy stares at her resolute face and wonders how much Susan would mind if he tied up her only child and strung her up from a flagpole outside the high school.

“And I said I don’t want to,” Billy repeats. “I have to clean up.” Max looks behind him at the few items in the sink, the discarded packaging from their dinner and makes a face.

“I’ll do that. Seriously, we only have an hour,” she says, pulling on his arm like she thinks she can move him. “Will you come on? It’s for your birthday.”

Stunned, Billy lets her pull him out of the kitchen and down the hall.

“You got me a present?” he asks incredulously, and Max raises her eyebrows.

“Sort of,” she says vaguely and Billy winces as she twists his skin as she tries to bolt headlong down the hallway. “I had to sort it, that’s why I was late. I didn’t know Mom and Neil were going out for sure until this morning and then I had to use the phone…”

To Billy’s confusion they pass right by her room. Max stops in front of his door, her eyes unusually bright.

“One hour,” she instructs, turning the door handle. “That’s all. I’ll set a timer. And I’ll put the radio on.”

“What the hell do you…” Billy starts to say, as she opens his door and pushes him inside. She slams the door behind him, shutting him in darkness.

“What the hell?” Billy starts, before his words are cut off by a rap at the window.

He nearly shits himself when he sees the face at the window.

“Steve?” Billy hisses incredulously, hurrying across to undo the latch and yank the window up. Steve heaves himself up onto the windowsill and grins.

“Happy birthday,” he says and Billy has to take a step back to let Steve slither into the room.

“What the fuck?” Billy says, because apparently his boyfriend and his sister have been conspiring behind his back all day. Steve lands awkwardly on the carpet, a tangle of limbs and hair and good humor, despite his bad landing. Billy quietly shuts the window again and turns around. But he’s not dreaming and Steve Harrington is really standing in his room. Polo shirt, denim jacket, a lump of car keys in his pocket.

“Thought I was going to get arrested,” Steve says, brushing back his hair from his face in a motion that never fails to make Billy’s stomach dip. Steve’s windswept, his face flushed from the cold and the illicit trip through Billy’s window. “I swear I was going like seventy down Cornwallis.”

“How did you…?” Billy starts, but Steve’s looking around with interest and Billy realizes that Steve’s never been in his room before. There’s a flicker of shame in his belly, because he’s been in Steve’s palatial house, slept naked in Steve’s huge bed, and his own room feels small and dingy by comparison. But Steve noses with interest at his assorted hair products, the scantily clad girls on the calendar, the leather bracelets on his dresser, like he’s actually interested in the effects of Billy’s life. 

“I thought you’d forgotten,” Billy says quietly, and Steve sits down on Billy’s single bed. He smooths a hand over the plain blue cover and Billy wonders if that’s why Max was so obvious about the fact that she’d have music on.

“I was going to come visit you at school,” Steve explains.“But Max called this morning and said that your parents were going out. So we planned this instead.”

Billy drops down onto the bed next to Steve, feeling a little stunned that they went through the effort. If Neil and Susan hadn’t gone out, Max probably would have skated to the arcade to buy Steve and Billy some time. But instead, she’d arranged for Steve to come here, ensuring that they’d at least have some time together.

“Your sister is terrifying,” Steve says frankly, perhaps because he can see the gears turn in Billy’s head. He does that - fills the silence with talk when Billy starts to feel a little overwhelmed. “And I say that in comparison to my ex-girlfriend and a kid with superpowers. She called my house at fucking ass o’clock and demanded I get my butt down here.”

“Did she call you again?” Billy asks, suddenly suspicious of Max bolting her dinner. Steve winds his fingers into Billy’s, his skin a little cold from the sharp March bite outside. 

“Yeah, she wanted to be sure that it would be dark and your parents hadn’t come back early,” Steve says easily. “She said I had to use the window…?”

“Mrs Haversham is a nosey bitch,” Billy says bluntly and Steve bursts into startled laughter.

“Yeah, she said that too,” Steve says, fondly. He suddenly starts digging into his jacket pocket with the hand that’s not entwined with Billy’s, finally tugging out a small blue box. Billy lets it drop into his open palm, feeling almost raw. He hadn’t expected more of a present, but here’s Steve bringing him fucking jewelry.

When he opens it, it’s a chunky silver ring, the kind that Billy likes to pick up from thrift stores. Only he gets the feeling that this one is a little more expensive and when he peers at the inside of the band, he catches a glimpse of an engraving in the dim light.

“I thought your dad wouldn’t notice if it looked like all the others,” Steve says, like he’s expecting Billy to hate it. Billy stares at the tiny writing, trying to figure out all of the letters by the slim sliver of moonlight. The delicate curve of a S, the double loops of a B, the matching twin shapes of the two Hs…Steve had their initials carved into silver, instead of into a tree, and somehow it’s just so fucking Steve. 

Billy carefully slides it onto a finger and then, because it’s the only way he really knows how to show gratitude, he flashes Steve a suggestive grin.

“Max said we only had an hour,” he points out, grabbing for the bottom of his shirt and tugging it over his head. “I wonder what we can do in an hour?”

The glitter in Steve’s eyes suggests that he knows what Billy’s doing, that Billy will thank him with his mouth, even if it’s not by words. But he curls his hand over Billy’s ring finger, carefully brushing against the line between skin and silver, and smiles anyway.

“I think we should find out,” Steve says and loops a hand around Billy’s neck to pull him in.

[op-sys-chaos]

DPxDC prompt (demon twins au)

A video from your son, the email was titled. Bruce was confused. Which of his kids would send a video to his public work email??

Bruce clicked play.

On the screen was a boy who look a lot like Damian, but most certainly wasn’t him.

“This video is for the eyes of Bruce Wayne only.

Hi Dad. I’m Danny. You likely don’t know I exist, and if you’re receiving this, I’m already dead. Well, more dead than I already was. Maybe it’s cruel of me to send you a message post-mortem, but you deserve the truth, and telling you earlier would’ve put you in danger.

This email is set to automatically send if I haven’t opened my computer for 3 days. I sometimes set it longer if I’m on vacation or expecting trouble, but I’ve mostly likely been away from home for a bit over three days if you’re receiving this.

I don’t know who killed me. Obviously. I’m recording this in advance. But it was probably either the GIW or my adoptive parents, the Fentons. I half-died at 14 and became a local ghost superhero, but they never realized I was trying to help and kept talking about tearing ghost-me apart molecule by molecule, so I bet that’s what happened. There will be nothing left of me to bury. Sorry about that!

The rest of the story is this. I was raised in an assassin cult, eventually escaping at the age of 6 when they sent me on mission and I successfully faked my death.

My biggest regret is that I escaped alone. And that’s the reason I’m reaching out to you.

You’re a civilian. If you know too much about the League of Assassins you’ll be in danger. But I need you to save my twin Damian. He’s likely still there after all these years. He never wanted to escape; he took pride in being the heir to the league. He’s probably going to be stabby; he’s an assassin after all. But it’s not his fault. Ra’s - our grandfather - brainwashed him a lot more than he brainwashed me because Damian was more susceptible to it. It’s not his fault. Please. Save him. I’m begging you. My biggest regret is leaving Damian in the league. You have a chance to save him. Please, please do it.

I wish it would’ve been safe for me to get to know you. You seem like a cool dad, from what I’ve seen of you on the news with your oldest kids. I bet you’re like that with the youngest you hide from the public too. I wish you all the best. Thank you for listening.

Your long lost almost certainly dead by now son, Danny Fenton.”

Bruce took a second to process this, then picked up his phone and dialed his youngest’s number.

“Father.”

“Damian, did you have a twin named Danny?”

“…Who told you?”

Bruce hung up and sent Damian the video. He needed a minute to process this anyway.

Damian called back a few minutes later, after watching the video.

“Father. I do not care what state he is in. We must discover exactly what happened to Danny. Even if there is only a single molecule left. We must discover the truth.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Damian.”

Dealer’s choice on whether Danny is alive. The few ideas I have for this are:

- they find him mid-vivisection and rescue him

- they find what’s left of him post-vivisection and post his core being crushed

- he’s perfectly fine and just forgot to open his computer (maybe clockwork made sure he forgot?) and now he’s panicking about the fact that his family knows about him and could be in danger. He wanted them to know he existed, not make themselves a walking target for the league by finding him and trying to bring him home!

- Jazz found the automatic email and, deciding to meddle in her brother’s life and him back to his family and maybe get a good parent for herself as a bonus, sent it early

- Technus decided to start shit and sent it while haunting Danny’s computer

- Clockwork screwed with time to make sure it got sent

Lmk what yall do with this!

[technoarcanist]

WAR NEVER CHANGES. BUT,

WARFARE NEVER STOPS CHANGING

"I've seen countless reasons why most mech pilots don't make the cut, but one of the largest hurdles are the physical alterations. The implants and modifications done to the fleshware is so extreme that it's enough to push most would-be pilots away from day 1.

Back in the day, when mech tech was still in its wild west years, when the technology was still in its infancy, things were different. Levers, joysticks, switches, a chair, most of the first models were something between the cockpit of a construction vehicle and a fighter ship.

Pilots in those days still consisted largely of the usual suspects. Test pilots, army jocks, space force veterans looking for something new, the occasional crazy who lucked their way up the ranks. All you needed back then was to be fit enough to work complex machinery. 'Handler's wouldn't be a coined phrase for nearly a decade. I still remember being a kid and seeing repurposed older models in the mech fighting streams.

Everything changed with the Bidirectional Cerebellum Computer Interface. To say nothing of how it changed civilian life, it was a military marvel. The BiCCI saw the creation of Mechs as we understand them today. The first generation were just retrofits, older models with a pilot's chair, and even manual controls to use in an emergency, but even then we knew that was only temporary. Before long, sleek frames of sharp angles, railguns and plasma cannons were rolling off the factory floor.

Like many things, it began small, optimising first for cockpit space by removing the manual controls. Before long, my then-supervisors thought, "Why have this glass? Why not hook the pilot's eyesight right into the advanced multi-spectral camera system? Before long, cockpits were but soft harnesses made to house a living body, their very soul wired into the machinery. Obviously, for security reasons, I cannot tell you everything about how our latest cockpits work, but suffice to say we've been further blurring the line between pilot and frame ever since.

This drew a very different crowd. Out were the army jocks and powerlifters. The only ones who even dared to have the interface hardware installed into their brainstem and spinal cord were the dispossessed, the misanthropes, those who sought not to control their new body, but to be controlled by it. No AI can work a mech properly on its own, but our pilots are never really in full control either anymore. Those who do try to go against the symbiosis get a nosebleed at best, and vegetative seizures at worst.

And that was that. The only people left who pilots these things are those who had already been broken, those who sougt a permenant reprive from being anything resembling human. A lot of my department quit around this time. I've lost a few friends over it, I'm not shy to say. Did we knew we'd be bringing in the more vulnerable people? Of course we did. But, the wheels of progress must turn, as they say, and it wasn't like we were shy of volunteers.

In our latest models, we have refined an even more advanced frame. Again, security detail prevents me from divulging too much, but one breakthrough we've made is decreasing action latency by approximately 0.02s by amputating the limbs from our pilots and replacing them with neural interface pads.

Using the pads where the limbs once were, pilots are screwed directly into the cockpit, which itself can now be 30% smaller thanks to the saved space. And, of course, we provide basic humanoid cybernetics as part of their employment contract while they are with us. Not that most of them are ever voluntarily out of their cockpits long enough to make use of them. Even removing the tubes from their orifices for routine cleaning incurs a large level of resistence.

And, yes, some of them scream, some of them break, some become so catatonic that they might as well be a peripheral processor for their mech's AI. But not a single one, not even one pilot, in all the dolls i've ever trained, have ever accepted the holidays we offer, the retirement packages, the stipends.

As you say, there are those who like to call me a monster for my work. I can see why. After all, they don't see the way my pilots' crotches dribble when I tell them I'll be cutting away their limbs, or the little moans they try to hide when we first meet and I explain that they'd forever be on the same resource level as a machine hereafter.

Those who call me a monster don't realise that, even after going public with how we operate our pilots, even after ramping up mech frame production, we still have more than twice as many volunteers as frames.

Those who call me a monster cannot accept that my pilots are far happier as a piece of meat in a machine of death than as the shell of a human they once were.

Those who call me a monster never consider the world my pilots grew up in to make them suitable candidates in the first place."

-Dr Francine Heathwich EngD

Dept. Cybernetic Technologies @ Dynaframe Industries

[In response to human rights violations accusations levied by the Pilot Rehabilitation Foundation]

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Trick or Treat…or Else

This is unfinished because I felt like I kept screwing up Jason’s characterisation a bit. Gotta work on that.

Jason glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall to his left, it’s was 2:57 on Halloween. His patrol wasn’t due to start for a few more hours, but something tugged at him that cause him to feel like something was going to happen. He wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad feeling just yet. He just knew that whatever is was put him on edge.

“Haven’t you taken enough pictures, Danny?” Tucker laughed through the screen of the computer Danny had set up in a four way call between himself, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz.

“I could never have too many pictures of my little princess!” Danny retorted as he snapped another photo of little Ellie in her Halloween costume.

“Ahem!” Ellie puffed out her chest and put her hands on her hips. The pose made her look even cuter, Danny thought.

“Oh my apologise,” Danny grinned cheekily, “my little badass.” He corrected himself.

Ellie, decked out in her mini Red Hood costume. The child sized leather jacket had been a gift courtesy of Sam, while the mini Red Hood helmet had been designed and built by both Tucker and Danny working together to ensure it would be perfect. They might have gone a little overboard however, since they’d managed to incorporated a real working com unit, an air filtration system in case of a gas attack, night vision, heat vision, and an emergency beacon should Ellie wander off and get lost that only Danny or Tucker could access. Danny had also hand painted two nerf guns for her, and gave her hand painted ‘grenades’ that were just glitter bombs. Ellie had insisted, just in case she was ‘forced’ to choose ‘trick’ from Trick or Treat.

“Danny,” Jazz voice held a fondness to it, “if you keep it up with the picture not only will you no longer have any space on there, you guys will be too late for the trick or treating.”

“Oh no! I don’t wanna miss it,” Ellie ran to Danny and started tugging on the sleeve of his costume, “let’s go!” She looked up at him and though the helmet obstructed Danny being able to see Ellie’s face, he could feel it in his bones that she was giving him those big puppy dog eyes of hers.

After a dramatic show of sighing in defeat, he picked up his daughter and said, “alright my starlight, but let’s say bye to the others first though.”

“Bye Uncle Tuck, Aunty Sam, and Aunt Jazz!” Ellie waved her little gloves hand at the screen from her place in her dad’s arms.

Tucker, Sam and Jazz all waved back and said their goodbyes and wishing her a fun time trick or treating. Danny bid his friends and sister farewell and ended the call.

“C’mon Little Hood, let’s go bug our neighbours for candy,” Danny beamed at Ellie as he put her back down and held out her candy bucket which had been a plastic black pumpkin from a dollar store. He’d hand painted a red bat symbol on the front of it for her, so that it would match her costume more. Ellie held the bucket in one hand, and held her dad’s hand in the other as they exited their apartment.

The clock had ticked over to 3:20pm the next time Jason spared it a glance. The trick or treaters would be put and about now. Most cities started later, but in Gotham there was always the risk of a rouge attack, so many parents would go out earlier, just to make sure they were home to avoid being out when it started to get darker.

Jason stretched his arms above his head and marked his page before putting down the book he’d just been reading. He stood up slowly and made his way over to his front door, checking that he had some Halloween candy at the ready just in case someone knocked on his door before he took off for the night. Jason knew that his building had several families with children under 14, so the likely hood of getting at least one truck or treated was pretty high.

When he was satisfied that he had everything in place he returned to the couch, picked his book back up and waited.

“Trick or treat!” Ellie cheered as the door opened.

The middle aged woman who opened the door let out a small gasp, “oh my,” she said with a smile, “Red Hood, I didn’t know you’d be patrolling our building?” Her tone was teasing as she reached somewhere past the door to grab some candy for Ellie’s pumpkin.

“Of course ma’am!” Ellie happily played along, making her own attempt at a deep ‘man’ voice, “crime could be anywhere!”

“Well I certainly feel safer knowing you’re out there protecting us Red Hood,” the woman laughed, “have a good patrol.” With that she closed the door, and Danny and Ellie Bahn making their way to the next ‘civilian’ as Ellie had started to call their neighbours.

Five groups of kids had come to Jason’s door so far. It was getting later, and he knew he’d need to start getting ready soon. Just as he was weighing the pros and cons of heading out on patrol early another knock sounded from the door to his apartment.

[akxmee]

𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗦, 𝗜'𝗟𝗟 𝗘𝗔𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠 𝗨𝗣. //𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎.

choso x stalker!reader

She was obsessed with her cute neighbour, so she always made excuses to enter his house. He knew it, and still let her in.

14k words.

Tw: creepy things stalkers do, mentions of locking people in, obsession. There's no +18 scenes, only a few heated kisses.

'Choso Kamo.'

That's the name of one of your computer's documents. It was the last among the rest of the files, locked with a password and completely secured.

Why, you may ask?

Well, let's put it like this. Everyone has a favorite thing, don't they? Kids have a favorite ice cream flavour, teenagers have a favorite TV show they always watch no matter what, adults have their favorite company to make deals with... Well, you had a favorite too. It was Choso Kamo, your adorable neighbour who moved in next to your house not so long ago.

He was your favorite person, your favorite hobby.

Collecting photos of him was something creepy and you felt bad for it at first, but he looked so cute playing with his cats in them that you started to enjoy having little albums in your carpet about him. You even dedicated a whole schedule to the man; writing down when he worked out, whenever he ate, when he started drawing as he usually did thrice a week..he was just so perfect, so made for you.

Yeah. If god exists, he made Choso just for you.

Fate has intertwined you two the moment he became your neighbour, you were so sure of that. Not only was he totally your type, you guys had a lot in common!

You two liked cats, you liked the same bands, you both liked the same food, enjoyed the same shows, read the same genres when it came to books..you even started to like crafting too when you first saw him working on something at his garden! Yes, the look on his eyes as he sawed the wood, the sweat on his forehead falling as he drove the screws and the exhausted breaths he left as he carried those heavy pieces into his house drove you head over heels, so now you like crafting too! Not because of the hobby itself, but because choso looked so good doing it that you may aswell like the days he crafts something.

Besides, it was tha reason you were working right now. A lemonade with a refreshing effect, that's what you were making for your hardworking neighbour. You added the perfect amount of ice that you knew he loved, pouring the liquid in a cute vase and heading to his home to pay him another visit.

Yeah, another visit.

You visited his house frequently, always having a excuse to do so. And somehow, he was kind enough to always let you enter! Now you both were in "friendly neighbour terms", but you wished to get even closer. Because you could pat his shoulder, but you wanted to hold his hand and because you could talk to him, but you craved to kiss him. Everything you desired was proximity, closeness, being able to call him withouth making any dumb excuse.

But that was something that required patience and insistence, just how you were being right now.

—Y/N? Is something the matter?

Ah, that sound got you out of your trance. You looked up, finding choso who just opened the door. He looked so damn good, and you melted just by the way his tired eyes focused on your figure.

—Not really. I could hear the saw from my house, so..

He scratched the back of his neck, giving you an apologetic smile.

—I figured you did, sorry. I'm crafting some furniture for my house.

You shook your head.

—No, no! It's okay, I understand. I knocked just to give you this, you looked...—Your eyes analyzed him, fighting the urge to drop any compliment. —..exhausted, and i thought you would enjoy this.

The black haired man looked at your hands only to see you offering him the vase of lemonade. He raised his eyebrows, his lips curved in what almost seemed like a cute smile for a second. He grabbed the vase you gave him.

—That's so thoughtful of you, thanks.

He smiled, you nodded.

—Want to come in so i can give you a drink in return?

That's what you were waiting for.

Choso was always so kind, letting you enter his house for food or games whenever you did something for him. That's his way of payment, since you knew he had issues with money and couldn't afford to pay you whenever you helped him change his lights, shelves or doors (he never asked for your help, however you somehow casually just happened to pass by whenever he was struggling with something like that). You always reassured him that it was fine, but he still insisted on having you over for dinner or lunch.

You smiled.

—Yeah, that would be nice.

He let you in, and you sat on his sofá while he brought something for you to drink. Minutes later he came, sat down next to you and gave you a cup of tea.

—Not as refreshing as the lemonade, but I promise it's good.

He handed it to you and you thanked him as a result. You gave it a sip and a surprised expression appeared on your face. He noticed that and asked:

—Is something wrong with the tea?

You instantly shook your head, resting the cup on your lap.

—Nothing at all! It's just, this is my favorite tea.

—It is? It's my favorite tea too.

He laughed at your reaction, as you smiled sweetly at him. To him, you were a cute girl he had for a neighbour that he could rely on when he needed help with his home or ask for help when it came to baking something for his little brother whenever he would visit and also a great companion he liked to have around since you were sweet and fun, but that's just his impression of you. He didn't know you were as awful as he was when it came to baking but mastered it just for him, he didn't know you found boring changing lightbulbs and only found fun the time spent with him and neither was he aware of the fact that you weren't giggling because you thought he was funny, but because you were so excited about having another thing in common with him.

The evening went great, you both laughed and updated eachother with gossip from your neighbourhood. You were making progress day by day, and you could feel It by the way he seemed more and more casual as the visits kept happening. He was growing more comfortable with you, and you were loving it! Choso talked to you about his brother Yuji, about how life working as an artist was and even showed you some photos —which you already saw, but now that he was the one showing them to you they looked even prettier—, he also asked about how to make Apple pies and more.

But that's not one of the main of reasons you came here for.

—Hey, Choso?

He hummed, taking a sip of his lemonade.

—Could I use the bathroom?

He looked at you, then pointed at the hall.

—The last door, the one on the right wall.

You already knew that, but thanked him anyways and went on your way there. You counted the Doors: one, two..then the third one. That's the one you're looking for.

Not because it was the bathroom, no.

Because it was his bedroom.

You entered the room, checking every corner you never saw through the window. He had a small computer on the desk, a few clothes on the floor, school items scattered all over the sheets of the bed such as a few pencils, notes, papers and more to be seen. Looking at the walls, you found several posters and pictures he made along with photos of him and his family: most of them were with yuji, his little brother, at places like a lake, his first day of kindergarten, at a sleepover...you found yourself smiling because of that, he was just so perfect. You had to capture this place, the place that held the most of his personality out of this home. Just a picture, only to visualize what kind of things he likes or what kind of furniture he's more fond of. You just needed a picture, something to have as a reference to analyze him, and it was as simple as clicking a single button of the mini polaroid you carried in your purse. However, as your hand reached for your purse to grab it...

—I think you're at the wrong bathroom, aren't you?

You froze.

Right behind you was Choso, the owner of the voice, leaning on the frame of the door while looking at you waiting for an answer. You weren't even facing him and you could already feel the grin on his face while he talked to you. Did he find out? Did he know the reason you entered his room? A lot of questions ran through your mind in a span of seconds. You tried to keep calm telling yourself things such as "no, how could he ever know? He wouldn't have let me in if he did" or "it's imposible for him to know I had a camera, since I didn't even get to grab it" and eventually, you had the courage to turn around to make visual contact with him and make up a lie.

—I'm sorry, got distracted in the way.

He kept quiet, letting you continue talking since he was not satisfied with your answer. You turn your gaze to the walls of the room, finding a lot of artpieces he made. You looked at him again, pointing at them with your eyes to let him know what you were going to refer to.

—I just wanted to see them up close. You showed me through photos, but i never thought they would be so...detailed. It's truly beautiful.

He seemed to be taken back by your answer.

—You think so?

—I really do. You're a great artist, Choso.

The black haired male looked like he bought your excuse. He looked actually touched by your lie and you obviously knew why; that's why you chose to lie with it in the first place. Choso was never validated as an artist, being always told that he could do so much better if he studied something like economy or science. Nobody really complimented his art withouth mentioning how it, as good as it is, should be kept as a hobby instead of dedicating his whole life to it because it just wouldn't really make a lot of money. He knew that, but still chose that life ignoring people's words. However, sometimes it was imposible to ignore it and he somehow became insecure when people gave his art compliments, since he didn't really know if they meant them or if they think the same as the rest.

And that's exactly what you knew that he was thinking right now.

—You're not going to say anything else?

He expected you to throw your advice now. He was expecting you to say something among the lines of "it's beautiful, but I personally wouldn't dedicate my whole career to it", waiting for something hurtful like it always happens. He waited and waited, and you finally talked.

—Yeah, I do.

He mentally sighed. Oh, he was a fool for believing that you could be different just because you were his friend. Choso ran a hand through his hair, messing up his bangs a little.

However, you proved him wrong.

—Since you draw so good, could you teach me one day? I really need it for this project at school, so i thought that maybe you...

You kept talking, but he stopped hearing whatever you were saying. Choso's expression suddenly stiffened, he gulped and his jaw tensed as you kept going on something he lost a few seconds ago. His eyes lit up with a complete different light, and he took a few steps towards you.

Noticing his silence and the way he walked to you, you grew worried. You did know that this was a sensible topic for him and already planned how his reaction would be, but this was not what you expected as he looked so intimidating while he slowly made his way towards you.

—I'm sorry, did I talk too much? Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, you don't have to actually say yes.

He grabbed you by the shoulders with such force you did not expect from him. Fuck, you messed up didn't you?

By the way he was looking at you, yes the hell you did.

That's the least you ever wanted, honestly. Choso hating you for touching some personal topic was the worst thing that could happen to you. You just complimented him, so why? He was frowing, his muscles tense, his body language indicated that he was nervous and his expression showed he was deep in thought. You wondered how did you even manage to get him like that, to get him to shift his personality like that. One minute he was touched by your words, now he was looking at you like you were something new to his eyes.

And you were, he just wasn't showing it how he should've.

Why? Because he never received this type of trait from someone. Something as simple as that, he never experienced it even though he craved for it for so long.

—What are you doing?

He asks you, his tone demanding for an answer.

—What?

You answer, and there's seconds of plain silence until he talks again.

—To me.

That tone.

That soft tone and cracked voice as he whispered with such tenderness, urging you for an answer desperately.

Now you understood, looking up at him and figuring out his expression. His grip on you was not because he was angry, but because he didn't want you to run away from his question. His frown was not because he was angry at you, but because he was trying to figure himself out. His shaky hands and body language was not screaming at you to stop talking, but to keep doing so.

You finally broke him down.

It took you months worth of visits, weeks and weeks of effort to make this man finally see in you what you see in him. You relaxed.

—You finally see it, don't you?

Your hand traced his jawline softly, watching him close his eyes as he leans into your touch like a puppy. This was all you ever wished, to have him like this. If you knew it only took a few compliments, some deep talks about life the nights after you help him fix his garden and making him some food from time to time to make him finally look at you like this, you would have done it sooner. But once again patience is key, so you don't complain now that he opens his eyes and adverts his gaze towards you in such a delicate way.

—I do.

You grin.

—That's good.. that's good. How about you and I, having dinner at a restaurant tonight? Let's get to know eachother.

He hesitates at first but then nods, according to your words.

—Sounds like a good plan.

You already know everything about him, but the idea of having a date seemed so casual and so cute you couldn't help but cheer internally. How would it be? Would he dress and look handsome for tonight? Would you two share your first kiss then? Would he lend you his jacked if it's cold? God, you were so excited! He was just the perfect man, choso had everything you ever wanted and that's all that mattered. It's okay if it rains, choso will cover you from the water. Doesn't matter if your heels tire you, choso will carry you home. It's also okay if you don't like the food at the restaurant, choso will surely share his with you. He actually will, because you know everything about him when it comes to a relationship too. It only took creating a fake account and pretending to be some random girl to ask his exes how he was in a relationship. You had to be informed of what you would be getting into, of course!

They all agreed that the man in front of you was a true romantic, detail-oriented and above all very observant of his partner. Aside from that, the complaints that caused them to break up were each one different from the other. However, when it came to complaints or the reason they broke up, each was different so you didn't have anything to base yourself on.

But oh, you were rushing things again weren't you? You two didn't even have a first date, and you were already thinking about how you would be as a couple! You'll see when the time comes.

—Then, I'll leave and you come pick me up at 9. I'll look pretty for you, so look handsome for me.

He looked at you with certain surprise.

—You'll leave?

—Well, yes. You don't want me to look like this at the date, no?

You signaled to yourself, making him look at your simple dress and face with a casual makeup. You wished to look pretty and have an elaborated makeup to your date, and he seemed to catch up. Choso shook his head.

—That's what I thought. I'll see you at nine, then?

—Yeah.

Yet, his grip on your shoulders didn't cease. You gave him a few seconds to let you go, but he didn't.

—Choso?

He looked to the side, and a slight blush could be seen on his cheeks.

—I'm sorry, you don't have to do it if you're uncomfortable but..can I at least get a goodbye?

Oh, oh.

You were speechless for a second, did he just ask for you to kiss him that politely? Then you chuckled, making him look at you with an embarrassed expression. His grip on you disappeared, and he covered half of his face with his hand for you not to see the shame in his face.

—Nevermind, i'm taking things too far. I'll see you at nine.

He didn't even have the chance to run away from the situation when you grabbed the collar of his sweater and gently pulled on it to get him closer, giving him a little peck on the lips. Choso was the one to quickly pull away in surprise, but soon he realized what just happened and leaned back again for another one since he wasn't satisfied with that little taste. He grabbed cupped your cheek with one hand while his lips collided with yours in a way that you weren't even upset your first kiss isn't at the date. The feeling was almost as if they were giving you something that you have been longing for for a long time, something that you have only had the pleasure of imagining becomes a reality.

Then you pulled away, in need of air.

—That's enough for a goodbye, isn't it?

He looked at you in silence, panting as he catched his breath. Soon after, his lips were on yours again with more intensity than before, dancing a tango of emotions where the music increased with each gasp of air. Eventually his hand found the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, and his tongue explored your mouth with a lot of ease. He seemed to have a lot of experience, while you were left trying to catch up on his rythm.

—Not enough. Five more minutes and you go, please.

He pleaded when you separated before kissing you again. You didn't even have time to say yes, but the way you reciprocated the kiss told him more than enough. Soon enough his other hand found your waist and guided you out of the room, through the hall. His bedroom had this huge window —which you were really thankful for, by the way. It always gave you such a good view of him when you were looking at him through your window—, and he didn't want anyone looking at you two since it was an easy thing to do, so he guided you through the hall to another room between heated kisses with your fingers tangled in his hair. You ended up with your back against the wall while Choso took some keys out of his pocket, opening the door while leaving a trail of light kisses on your neck.

It wasn't strange for him to have a key to a room, since it was a normal thing for people in your neighbourhood to do so since burglasses were quite common so they kept valuable things safe in a room. You guessed he was taking you there since it was a more private area, but you found yourself with a room. Not enough time was left for you when you were thrown on a bed, having choso on top of you while pinning one of your wrists above you. You looked at him, who stared back at you intensely.

—Choso, five minutes already passed..

The man looked at you for a few seconds more, like he was admiring you. He looked absolutely breathtaking, His hair was messy, his eyes half open, his breathing altered, and his lips stained with the lipstick you were wearing. You dreamed so many times of this moment, yet you also wished for the date to happen so you couldn't entertain this more.

—I'm sorry, I just can't help It.

He kisses you once again. A soft tender kiss is left in your lips.

—Now that I have you, i can't let you go.

Once again. This kiss seemed to have more emotion than the rest, and it felt like he was devouring you.

—I can't let you go.

And again. Now, the kiss feels desperate and feral, he was kissing you again and again as if he was an animal.

—I can't. You can't go.

You were getting worried about what he was saying, but when you tried to get your wrist out of his hand a metalic sound was heard. You pulled.

CLANK.

You tried to pull again.

CLANK.

—Choso?

You asked, confused.

His hands left your wrist, and then you saw.

You were chained up to the bed.

He got up from the bed, and you tried to do too. However, you failed and almost fell off the bed due to the force of the pull that the metal gave you in reaction to your quick attempt of getting on your feet. He stopped you from falling, sitting you on the bed once again.

—Shh.. it's okay, don't freak out.

—What do you mean don't freak out? Is this some time of kinky roleplay?!

You tried to pull on the chain with your free hand, but it was no use. He scratched the back of his neck nervous, making a face of disappointment.

—Yeah, I figured you wouldn't like this place at first but don't worry, you'll like it eventually. It's pretty, isn't it? Look.

He grabbed your face and forced you to look around, and you found the least thing you could ever expect from this man. How could you not notice this when you entered? There were pictures of you all over the walls, a map of the city and different dots connected on a cardboard. A lot of your pictures were also on a desk, alongside with little hearts drawn of them. There was a part of one of the walls that was completely covered in drawings of your face in different angles, of your body and you doing some of your hobbies. Anyone that looked at it would easily think you were his muse. A computer was opened on the desk that had different recordings of the outsides of your house, and you were sure all of those pendrives scattered near were just about the same thing.

—It looks creepy now, but I'll eventually clean it. You know, you weren't supposed to come here today..—He, still grabbing your face, made you look at him by raising your chin with the intention that you maintain eye contact with him.—I was still making cute furniture for you to enjoy this place..but then i saw it. I saw what you tried to do.

His free hand reached his pocket, taking out your mini polaroid that was supposed to be in your purse. When did he take it? Fuck, it probably was while you two were kissing.

—I saw that you, deep inside, were just as sick as I am. And i couldn't resist it.

Your jaw tensed, but you still talked.

—Why?

He grinned, and his voice came out in a whisper.

—Because i have been waiting for so, so long.

He smiled at your innocence. Did you really think you were being sly with that dirty, little secret of yours? No, Choso had his eye on you for longer than you did. He saw you at work once, then he grew obsessed with you even if you never noticed him. Seeing you at work was not enough, so he eventually bought a House next to yours as if fate wanted him to get closer to you, and noted how to catch your attention. He changed his whole personality into some shy, cute and fun but still serious with black cat aesthetic boy just because he knew it was your type, and even went as far as creating profiles on social media acting like his exs whenever you, with another account he managed to find, asked about how he was in a relationship. That account was simply "asking for a friend", but he knew better than that. He lied to you, telling you just what you wanted to hear about a perfect boy in a relationship and stupid reasons of the breakup each different from another so you wouldn't think he had any specific red flag.

God, you were so adorable that he could lock you up forever.

Except for the fact that he already was.

—No, you're another whole level of sick. You were so normal, we had a lot of things in common..

—But we do! Y/N, look at me.—he brushed a strand of hair off your face, smiling softly.—We have things in common. We're both so in love with eachother, it's okay..

—No, Choso. You were meant for me..

His smile faded.

—I still am.

—No you're not. You were fake.

You were conflicted. You were sick in the head, but he was just another whole level. While you were happy with having him by your side, keeping photos of him and observing the man, he was locking you in. You had absolutely no right to complain, because you were just a little bit less bad than he was even though you were still guilty.

You tried to fool him, and you ended up being fooled.

—You're in denial, Y/N. Everything I am now I will forever be if you like it, I built myself just for you!

He was growing more demanding by minute, his grip on your face increased and you couldn't open your mouth to reply.

—You liked cats, I like cats too. You like some bands? well guess what, i like them too! You like that damn tea?! I like it too even though it tastes like shit!

He kept screaming, trying to reason with you.

You bit your lip and slipped out of his grasp. He seemed upset at that, but eventually decided to let you be.

You were still too in shock to understand what he did for you, weren't you?

—Fine, do whatever you want..—He moved away from you, leaving you there still chained to the bed. —It's not like you'll be going anywhere soon.

He scoffed, and you felt such a rush of emotions going on at the same time. Every feeling that you may have accumulated towards him during all these months disappeared from your heart as if they were pieces of a puzzle. Each moment you grew excited because you were just about to visit him, each photo you took of him and hung on the wall while you daydreamed of the day you could take one together with him, each moment you replayed in your head every conversation with him again and again before going to sleep...it all vanished. The love you felt slowly turned into a darker feeling that extinguished it until it turned into a kind of repulsion, disgust. You knew that the day will come when you your karma will come for you for having gotten into such dangerous terrain, but you didn't expect it to be this way.

Specially for it to be this man.

The man you idealized so much, the man you thought to be so perfect.

The man you claimed to have so many things in common with.

Well, now you knew for sure.

You did have a lot in common with Choso Kamo.

Author's note: not my favorite fanfic, honestly. It's not edited since it's 2am and i don't wanna re-read, so tell me if you find any mistakes! By the way, new chapter of "dogs and Cats café" will be out next week when i'm finally done with my final exams.

Hope you liked this, I'll be reading your comments 💕

[random-blurbs]

I Can’t Fall In Love

Summary : Screwed over time and time again you swore your heart away from the idea of love. Not realizing how truly weak it is for the genius right in front of you.

"Pen I can't do this anymore! I'm done..." Practically wailing it out you gripped the fluffy little figurine begging for some type of release. "I love you my love but please spare my friend that poor torture." Snatching it from your hands you let you a torturous sigh. Done with simply everything.

"This isn't fair I did so much for him." Penelope motioned to her computer which you waved off. Knowing she's always willing to hack his stuff and leave petty messages behind. You're trying to be above that. Trying really hard at that.

"What did he do this time. I swear all the men you date always are so shady." Taking a deep breath in you know what Pen might do if she finds out. But to be fair she'll always find out some way or another. "He cheated on me...with his sister who I at least thought was his sister. But y'know wasn't." The yell that Penelope let out was loud as she shared your anger now. "He did what!" Nodding painfully as you recount finding them in your house, in the room you pay for, and in the bed, you paid for. It hurts. A lot. "Are you ok though my sweets? I know you're probably angry, but you don't even seem to acknowledge the fact that you can be sad." Was it the profiler in her that her team without realizing instilled into her. Or were you that obvious. It can be both. "I don't know Pen... it's just - I'm tired of being sad men after men." The ache in your heart is there, but that's a can of worms you don't want to open at your workplace. "But I'm going to make this promise to myself to not even dare to ever fall in love!" You said confidently as Penelope couldn't believe a single word you said. She loves you and you know that. But she can also see the avoidant nature you tend to have. Reminding her of a special little someone.

"What if I set you up with someone I know! He's a total catch in the terms of nerdy but still a catch!" Shaking your head you made a loud incorrect buzzer noise. "Nope! Not falling in love! Thank you though for looking out for me. Maybe we can talk about it -" Interrupting your sentence you both heard someone knocking on the door and a head of brown curls peeked his head in. "Um Garcia? Hotch is looking for you." He acknowledged your presence with an awkward smile as he looked at Penelope expectantly. "This is the person I was telling you about. This is our resident boy genius, Spencer Reid! He loves to read books, and I know you do to - you used to play chess in elementary he still plays! And he has an IQ of -!" Putting your hand up to stop Penelope from embarrassing the two of you guys. You waved at Spencer with an awkward smile of your own. Is it obvious Penelope was setting you guys up. Hopefully not.

Considering he's fucking cute. "Y/N. I'm Penelope's friend down at the reception desk." Totally needed to add that part so he can totally not see me there and say hi himself.

"Ah. I'm also Penelope's friend obviously we work in the same team I mean I feel like that's kind of obvious I'm sorry you probably know that. She probably told you if anything not that the-."

"Ok! Um someone is totally not rambling, let's catch up next time ok! You have to tell me what that pathetic little -" Rambling about what she might do to your ex you just let out a short chuckle at her words. Meeting his eyes you gave him a small smile back. "Ok bye you guys! It was nice meeting you Reid." Waving bye at him, he had barely put up his hand when you already walked out.

You can accept a man is cute. He's definitely not your type but he totally can be...

Shaking your head you rushed to your desk hoping your coworker isn't too mad that you left him for a while. Pushing all thoughts of the awkward smiling guy in a locked box.

-

It was weird it's been 3 months since meeting the resident genius of the FBI. And you can't look at him in his stupid eyes. His stupid cute face. When you do run into him it’s very stiff conversation and you hate how it makes your day. And vice versa. You give him energy he thought he couldn’t get. Showing your painfully slow progress sometimes you’re greeted with a cup of coffee. A order he learned through trial and error. But when he saw the smile that was etched into your face as you got your favorite order. He will grow those coffee beans by his own hand if it means seeing you continuously smile like that. He didn’t expect anything in return and you smile every time you think about it. For once nobody expected anything from you.

But when you come you’re reminded of those memories. Memories you wish to burn.

So you've been stuck. To the point where Penelope is checking in on you every day. Encouraging you to go out. Is it worth it?

Staring at the popcorn ceiling it felt weird being all dressed up but feeling nothing. No happiness, no sadness, no more anger. You're just tired. The excessive of beeping on your phone never stops. Maybe that's why your phone is practically dead all the time. Opening it it's the same messages you always see.

Please I'm so sorry I didn't mean it It was one time Just answer your fucking phone y/n stop being stupid just answer your fuc-

Shaking your head you got up to get into your uber that finally arrived. Tired. Blocking this random number again, he never stops. And you don't think he ever will. You haven't told Penelope the excessive messages you know she'll probably cross lines that you really don't want her to do. Trying to gather what social battery you have left to meet her friends. Or well her team.

Entering the surprisingly loud bar, you checked your phone trying to follow her directions. "Y/N!" A muffled voice from afar and you see the excitable blonde. "Come here!" You take in the group beside her. 2 older men who seem to be talking to each other not favoring the club setting that this bar took up. 2 other girls were next to her which you only remember the name of Emily. Not knowing which one is which. And finally, the man you've been avoiding. He's talking to another man who seems to be teasing him. But his brown eyes were meeting yours. Nervous flickering as he listened to his friend but looking at you. And only you. "Hey Pen!" Giving her a hug she does the introductions. It's hard to listen.

Just following Pen's footsteps you listen in to the story they exchange and generally talking about their life. Derek had left to go dance with Penelope, JJ and Emily had also gone to dance with one another. Who you learned was Rossi ended up leaving a little earlier. Seems like Hotch did the same considering you haven't seen him in a while. It's easy to do the math. Taking a sneaky peek next to you, there he was. His leg was bouncing nervously fueling your nerves just the same. The shots at your table are going to waste as you finally grabbed another one. "Y-You might want to slow down." His nervous voice made you pause. Looking over at him confused he cleared his throat. "You already took 3 shots within the hour and a half of being here. Not that I'm telling you what to do exactly. But it's just women tend to get drunk faster and obviously I would have to take into account your height and weight - I-I just want you to be careful." He finished with a stiff nod. Was it three shots already? You feel your phone buzzing into your pocket tiring you again, can't even enjoy a cute guy telling you to be careful. Tilting your head back you finished the shot.

"I'm sorry I'll cut myself off now." Not wanting him to think you're a drunk you took a sip out of your water right after. "It's not that it's just I want you to be careful, that's all." Nodding you guys fell into an awkward silence if you can even call it silence. It's a crime that this bar is basically a club now. "Have you played chess?" Surprising he's still talking to you, kind of scared that he finds you bad company. You nod your head, "Yeah back in elementary in some stupid little team." You chuckled a little at the memory remembering playing against your classmates but totally cheating so we both can get the vouchers. "Not anymore though?" Confirming his question with just a nod it seemed like he was stuck in his thoughts. "Do you play in like tournaments and stuff?" He immediately shook his head. "I only play for fun it's better that way."

"Would you show me how to play again if I ask?" You can see you caught him off guard with the question. Liquid courage as you want to call it. "Not a date obviously but to get to know each other better." He deflated at that. But you weren't able to see that as the phone distracted you when you pulled it out. Maybe it's better this way, he shouldn't test his luck. Maybe just being around you is enough. Considering he noticed the numerous of times you would go the opposite direction if you saw him. Maybe this is enough?

He didn't mean to peek it seems like your limbs didn't want to work with you that well anymore. Letting him take an accidental peek at your phone. Seeing the mass text messages sent to you reading what he can. He was the worst person to see it considering he read it all in practically seconds. But he knows now he doesn't want you to be surrounded with that. He knows you should have more. "We can set up whatever time that's works best for you."

-

Shit shit shit shit shit! Can you really call it a date? I mean you have to at this point. Here you are clothes sprawled all over your room as you tried so many different things. Some were too date-like, some too casual like. Going to watch a Greek play that Reid promised to translate it has to be a date?

Hearing a knock at your door it was pathetic really how you sprinted to it. Opening the door with a grin it quickly diminished seeing who was there. "Why are you so dressed up?" Not wanting to answer him you immediately tried to shut the door before he shoved his foot at the doorstep. Making his way in your eyes carefully watched him. Scared of anything setting him. "Mark what are you doing here?" "I keep on texting you and you refuse to answer." Scoffing you shake your head staring at him with disgust. "I can't believe you. Just get the fuck out. I've already been dealing with your messages for 6 months now! I've shown you kindness by not reporting you!" It was easy to see that he practically ignored your words as you fiddled with the doorknob begging him to leave. Spencer was going to be here at any point. And that weird feeling of embarrassment or even shame was filling you. Ashamed that you still don't have your life together considering your ex is practically being a stalker and you still haven't reported him.

"Y/N I miss you. Please just one more shot swear you won't regret it! C'mon will you really find someone like me?" In awe at his ego, you let out a laugh of disbelief. How the hell did you end up with someone like him. Glad you got out of the shitshow of a relationship you were in.

"Are you fucking laughing at me?" His booming voice is something you don't miss. And it always terrified you. "Obviously because genuinely who the fuck do you think you are."

"You stupid bitch I sw-" Taking huge strides to you, the fear made you want to run. But he was immediately at your side as you tried stumbling away. Feeling his hand wrap around your arm as you winced feeling him tighten it.

"Y/N?" A softer voice was heard just right outside the door. It was still open and you immediately knew it was Spencer. Your savior. Glancing up at your ex you see the anger swirling in his eyes, giving you a accusatory glare.

"Who the fuck are you?" Within a moment Spencer rushed into the apartment almost hitting you and your ex in the process. He was surprised to hear a male voice come from your apartment especially one sounding so hostile. The position you guys were in was everything but normal. You didn't even realize but Spencer can see it. The tears in your eye were welling up and the desperation laced with it, Spencer just can't unsee. "You need to get out." With a firm voice Spencer stayed unmoving as he stared at your ex. Who seemed to be beyond pissed. "Excuse me?" With a swift motion Spencer took out his FBI badge showing it to your ex. "I don't want to repeat myself. I can have you arrested just as quickly so do yourself a favor and leave. " He never really likes using his badge in scenarios out of field. But he knows your ex wouldn't listen otherwise.

Dropping your hand aggressively, Spencer was quickly at your side cradling your arm. The exact opposite of what your ex had done. Giving you one last look he slammed the door shut echoing throughout the apartment.

"Are you ok?" He didn't waste a second as he took extra care of your arm trying to see the extent of it. And it's that damn question, looking down as you tried hiding behind your hair. A very weak attempt. The tear fell unapologetically. All those feelings came out as you ripped your arm away from Spencer. Letting yourself cry into your hands. He didn't know what to do. He was scared that he was going to say the wrong thing. He knows of your situation but he didn't know the extent of it. And he wishes he can take it all away for you. "Do you want a hug?" With tears still streaming down your face, you glanced up at him in confusion. "Reid, you don't even like handshakes... not that I care but I feel like a hug is very out of left field." Agreeing with you immediately he tried not pushing the boundary. "Yeah, obviously germs can be shared especially since you're crying. But you're sad and I want to make you feel better. Even if it means a hug." Tears continue to fall at his sweet words knowing that this is probably something he psyched himself into doing. "If you want, I'll only hug you for a minute?" He motioned you to get closer and it was the most awkward hug you've ever had. But it was the only hug that has made you feel seen, comforted. It's not his favorite thing in his world, but as he caressed your hair letting you cry into his vest that took him too much time to pick out worried, he won't impress you. He didn't mind that the tears were being etched into it as you found comfort in his arms. Thats all he wanted. To be your rock. He might not know everything about you but he's willing to wait around to find out. You make it worth it. Your eyes, your smile, your sarcasm, everything. The fact that you were willing to watch a play you would have no idea what is being said, but willing to indulge into his wants. Thats enough for him.

As the minute went by it became clear that you took more comfort in his arms than he suspected. And he didn't mind as he heard your cries start to quiet down and just the small jumps of your shoulder signifying your calming down. "I'm sorry Spencer... I know you were really excited for the play. But I don't think we can go out anymore...obviously." Pointing at yourself and your wrecked appearance. "It doesn't matter."

"You say they come only every 5 years to perform just go and enjoy it."

"I'm ok we can catch it in the next 5 years we have all the time in the world." He said happily as he looked around your apartment. Entranced by the decorations as everything screamed you. "Is there a movie you want to watch? I can go get us some snacks or maybe order some takeout. You shouldn't waste your outfit." He didn't notice but you were trying your hardest not to cry at his kindness. You can't love him you just can't. You already seen all the men in the world. All they do is hurt you. And your fear of Spencer being one of them is killing you. You can't love him.

"Do you want fast-food or sushi?" It won't hurt to at least have a friend. - "Spence stop!" Giggling you were at the other end of the couch trying not to get caught in his arms. He had his arms out at the other side going left or right trying to catch you. "Say you're sorry then!" Uncontrollably laughing you shake your head between breaths.

"I can't! I won't mean it." Shrieking as he went over the couch to grab you, you run into your kitchen trying to expand the distance between the two of you. It was futile.

Yelling with laughs in between he wrapped his arms around you before swinging you around. "Spence! Please! I'm sorry don't drop me!" You know if he somehow did let you slip, he would immediately use his body as a cushion to soften the blow. That was the kind of man he was. Softly letting you down your laughs mixed with one anothers in a melody only you two can understand and enjoy.

You both were falling for each other. Hard.

It’s the type of feeling where you guys tittered the edge of something more. But you always pulled yourself back. It was the only way where you can breathe in peace. Knowing Spencer won’t have that edge over you, you won’t be vulnerable to him. “Are you going to cook for us again?”

“Obviously - do you not like my cooking or something?” Before he can respond your phone started to buzz. Excessively. “Can you get that for me? It might be Pen telling me about how Kevin is annoying her.” Getting started on dinner you settled with a pasta dish not exactly being a chef.

It was silent for too long as you looked up from the pot of water as his eyebrows were furrowed. Almost as if he was angry. “Spence you good?”

“It’s Mark. I’m going to let Hotch know he broke his restraining order he might have someone that can actually make sure he gets punished.” Mood somewhat dampening you thanked him quietly as you continued dinner. “Don’t overthink it please, You don’t need to worry.” You feel him behind you making you turn around to face him. He brought his hands up caressing your cheek with a content smile. “I swear to you I will make him stop. No matter what I do.”

I like you.

So much.

Those thoughts swirl his head as he stared at your face as your eyes were closed happily.

He wants to give you everything and more. The thought of letting you is too much for him.

-

“And they were roommates…” Penelope said ominously as you pushed her playfully. She giggled as she poked at your sides excitedly. She looked around the room with a bright smile on her face as she took everything in. “I love how you decorated the place obviously this was all you?” Nodding you’re happy that you got creative freedom in decorating - it feels more like home. Home 2.0.

“I brought you guys snacks.” Turning around you see Spencer with a big grin and an equally big bag of treats. “Spencer Reid I swear you are the love of my life.” Grabbing the hefty bag you passed over her snacks. Not realizing the look that Penelope threw at Spencer. Him quickly shushing her as you passed Spencer his snacks. “I need to go already my sweets. Date night I need to be ready!” Saying our byes you pulled Spencer over to the couch getting comfortable.

“You like it?” Motioning to the walls/the general room. “Of course I do. You just have the special touch like this one artist..” He proceeded to compare you to some artist you’ve never heard of but you just loved to hear him talk. “Do you want to lay down?”

It’s routine, asking is just a curtesy. Your head hit his lap comfortably as he positioned the pillows how you liked it.

“Are we going to continue that conversation we were having before she came?” You said looking at him from his lap. He loves how you look from there. Just happy, innocent. He hates to know that your ex took that from you for so long.

Getting more comfortable he cleared his throat knowing he can’t forget the conversation you were just having. “I would never hurt you Y/N.” Already living with each other for a year you guys are finally having that talk. Caressing your cheek like how he always will he admired the face he will be waking up next to. “I know simply saying it won’t take away your fears, but I want to show you. And I will. Because I adore you Y/N. You help me look forward to tomorrow. You give me a drive for us to finish our cases faster so I can get home, to you. And only you.” Smiling softly at him you played with his fingers. Dancing with one another’s hands you admired him. You never thought you could like someone so much. It drives you insane that he’s doing this to you. But you can’t help but be glad that it’s him and no one else.

“Do you swear Spence?”

“Swear on everything.” Kissing your hand softly he helped you sit up as you leaned. He helped you more times you can count. He waited. And waited. Without expecting anything.

You didn’t want to fall in love. Who would? But as you stare at the love-sick fool in front of you. With the dorkiest smile adorning his lips you can’t help but lean in letting your lips press against his. An act of love finalizing what you guys are. Lovers. And you wouldn’t want anything more.

[cherubimcore]

pairing: alastor x reader

author's notes: i wrote this fic a loong time ago and it was supposed to be a series but then my hyperfixation with hazbin hotel faded and other stuffs happened (*cof* *cof* college *cof* *cof*) so since i had fun writing it, and i started to watch hazbin hotel again and my hyperfixation is coming back i decided to post it and if pleople like it i might continue <3

p.s: i'm still writiing my logan howlett/phantom of the opera au hopefully i will post it soon <3

this wasn’t the first time that you felt you were being watched.

everything started when you left your parent’s house after college to have a fresh start in your life with a job in new orleans, the city where your grandma grew up, she was more than happy to let you stay at the house from her childhood, since no one lived there in a long time and she felt that a new generation was just what the house needed.

your first day at the new/old house went as well as one would expect, since most of the furniture was already in the house in some-what good conditions the only thing you took was your clothes, books and electronics.

that’s when everything started, on that first night at the house.

it was almost 4 am and you still were in your bed finishing some work for that day, when you saw the fist shadow, at first you thought it was your tiredness, you were awake looking at the computer screen for the past 5 hours trying to finish an important project, so you rubbed your eyes beneath the glasses, got more comfortable in the bed and continued your work.

but this time it wasn’t a shadow you saw, looking at you from the other side of the room was a man, he had deer ears on top of his head next to his antlers, he was wearing a red coat ragged along the bottom hem and long black dress pants, but the thing that stuck to you the most was his smile like a cheshire cat and black eyes with pupils shaped like radio dials.

with the blink of an eye tentacled emerged behind his back and grabbed both of your legs and arms beneath the blanket on top of your pressing your body in the bed until it hurted, you tries to fight back but the only thing you managed to accomplish was to drop your glasses on the floor breaking them, but you still could see him slowly walking towards you each step making him glitch in the reality until he was on top of you, you shut your eyes closed praying to whatever god that could hear you to help.

“ah, ah, ah!” the thing said, you could feel his hot breath on your cheek “i want you to look at me, my dear, i want to look at your eyes when i tell you that no matter the god you are praying he won’t be coming to help”

you opened one of your eyes, scared of what he may do if you didn’t comply.

“i want to look at your eyes and tell you that there’s no way of getting rid of me, darling, i have been interested in you since you crossed that door this morning, your blood smells so sweet i can’t wait to eat you up!”

you felt the dark tentacled slowly letting your arms and legs go free, you tried to get away from the man but he started to emit static noise that got more and more distorted until you had to put your hand on your ears to muffle the noise until…

you woke up.

you still had your computer on your lap, you were still beneath the covers and your glasses were on your face in one piece.

taking deep breaths to calm your racing heart, telling yourself that it was only a nightmare and you were safe.

but when you turned your laptop off and turned around to try and get some actual sleep, you missed the shadow on your door silently watching you.

“i knew we shouldn’t have let him do this by himself” husk said, opening a bottle of whiskey

“what do you mean?” alastor asked, his smile widening “i even said ‘i want to eat you up’ that’s the most romantic thing in the world!”

“we’re screwed!” angel dust groaned from the other side of the room “freaky face doesn’t even know what ‘romance’ means! i bet he can’t make her fall in love with him until the deadline, the next extermination is just in a couple of months! you guys should have let me do it!”

“you know that’s not the deal with the angels” charlie said while vaggie patted her in the back “besides i know alastor is doing his best!”

everyone in the room rolled their eyes, they knew that the radio demon wouldn’t do a favor like that if he had nothing to gain from it, so far it looked like he wanted it all to fail spectacularly.

“charlie!” charlie’s father lucifer came running downstairs with something on his hand “i have a new letter from heaven”

“well since my job from the day seems to be over i will be going have some dinner” alastor interrupted the king of hell and walked towards his room.

“i wouldn’t do that if i were you” lucifer stepped in front of him “it has your name in it and for what i understand you will want to read this"

taken aback from the serious tone in lucifer’s voice alastor stopped in his tracks and snatched the letter from the hand of the blond man in front of him.

with a sigh the deer man sat in the stool at the bar while everyone tried to take a look behind his back at the letter but failing miserably.

alastor tried to read the letter with a calm demeanor but each line made his eyebrows furrow and his jaw tightened.

[qin-qin16]

My computer is possessed?! Oh, wait, it's just my out-coded skeleton boyfriend!

Summary: When some of your work in progress goes missing, you decide to start investigating whether your computer has a virus. That is until you realize that the few remaining works are of one character: Error Sans. cw: comedy, kinitoPET and creepypasta vibes, Error is an asshole and Reader is stressed, gn!reader, dark jokes about suicide, but nothing serious, we have a bit of jealousy Error, writer Reader…  note: I finally wrote down this idea from weeks ago lol and the divider is from @sister-lucifer (Part one) (Part two)

You would never forgive yourself.

Five hours of work. Five. And it all vanished with a simple power outage. The entire neighborhood was in the dark for hours — and when the power finally came back, everyone heard the lengthy stream of insults and curses you hurled at yourself when your computer screen went blank; there were no files saved in the cloud and no trace of everything you had written.

Your body glides over the wheeled chair as you slowly spin in circles, “Eu quero me matar…” You murmur, without any genuine or serious inflection in your words, even though deep down in your mind, there’s a certain desire to end the emptiness that lingers from your anger.

“Three pages… three damn pages…” You run your hand over your face, resting it on your mouth as you feel your eyes sting from the static white of the computer screen. “I can’t believe it.” You finish, still in disbelief over the unexpected blackout.

You know that old saying, “I’ll believe it when I see it”? Well, the problem was right in front of you: a completely empty Word document, except for a few notes saved before everything was lost. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe what you were seeing.

“I’m not going to write all that again! I can’t even remember the last thing I wrote!” you rant to no one but the lifeless machine in front of you, running both hands through your hair and tangling it with unnecessary force — leaving only irritation in certain spots on your scalp and strands of hair sticking out in every direction.

Settling into the chair — legs crossed and leaning forward like a shrimp — you start closing all the tabs left open on the computer, not caring at all about what’s saved or not. All you want to do right now is shut off that old piece of junk (that can't even handle an internet outage) and go grab something to eat. Maybe that would help you relax and distract yourself from this mess.

However, the large ERROR 505 flashing on the screen interrupted your ongoing stream of frustration. 

The damn title, accompanied by a series of codes that made no sense to you, was plastered on the last tab of your browser, just waiting to be closed. But even after you clicked the little red box three times — eager to shut the window as quickly as possible — the page stayed open. 

It felt almost as if it were mocking you. Almost…

“Perfect! Just what I needed!” You don’t hesitate to slap the monitor, taking out all your anger on the old machine. “Now even the damn Google isn’t working!” Your grunt is muffled as you bury your face in your hands, holding back the scream that desperately wants to burst from your throat.

“God, if you exist, why are you punishing me like this?” Your murmurs are heard only by the computer as it continues to mock your suffering with the bright white screen — and that damn ERROR 505 displayed at your face.

“Know what? Screw it, I don’t care.” With your hands thrown up in defeat, you finally surrender, tired and out of patience to battle this cursed error.

This is worse than when the Ao3 is down—no, I can't exaggerate like that, you think to yourself as you crouch in your chair searching for the charger’s plug. If this page won’t close on its own, then it’ll have to be forced; nothing beats unplugging the old computer directly from the outlet.

Which turned out to be a challenging task, not only because of your awkward and uncomfortable position in the wheeled chair, but also due to the mess of wires and cables under your desk. You didn’t even know which one belonged to your computer, let alone where the outlet was.

“Maybe it’s best to just yank everything and hope the outlet comes with it.” You go back to your original position, stretching your spine and letting out a quiet grunt as a pop resonates from your back. “I need to stop spending hours sitting in front of the computer.” Your grumble is nothing more than a hollow promise, unlike your spine, which was definitely promising to develop some kind of scoliosis.

“Okay, here we go— what the hell is this?” you exclaim, and even though your voice lacks any emotion — probably exhausted from all the shouting earlier — your jaw drops, matching the widening of your eyes as you see that the once flashy ERROR 505 screen has now changed to a completely different tab.

What had once been a white background filled with bold text was suddenly replaced by your Tumblr homepage... featuring countless fan arts of Error Sans scattered throughout your feed.

It wasn’t unusual for you to search for fan art and fanfics about him; in fact, the number of tags you followed with his name was far too many to count on both hands!

However, today was not one of those days. In fact, you had been trying to set aside your obsession with the glitchy skeleton to focus on other Sanses. Those three pages you lost forever were actually part of a fanfic about Cross x Reader that you had been working on for a few days.

So… why did the page load with this theme that you had been ignoring?

It doesn’t matter, I’ll just close this tab and—oh my God, what a gorgeous fan art! You quickly get distracted by the artwork on your screen, and without hesitation, your finger starts clicking rapidly on the mouse, liking and reblogging as fast as you can.

You must have been very tired not to notice the muffled sound coming from your computer — different from the noises it made when starting up or running a virus scan. No, no, this sounded oddly like a stilted laugh, as if the audio had been chopped into pieces.

But why would you pay attention to that? Computers couldn’t laugh, especially not at your half-closed eyes and the sentences you’d written incorrectly because you were sleepy…

Right?

Tagging the people who wanted to see a fanfic of this:

@snastheskeleton64, @moonpieandfries12345, @lostsoulsofdragon, @mrcatmario, @something-random1-1-blog, @joonebugg, @crunchontoast, @honeybubbletea33, @what-have-i-unleashed, @leafwateraddict, @sweethoneybear, @sleepy-batz

If you want to be tagged in part two, please let me know :D

[lychgate]

Echo brain comic?? My beloved?

this one's pretty new and id like to in the least get some segments drawn up if i can

i went balls deep in depth about my personal ideas of Echo's structure and how it works, it has much more writing rn then art lemme get some snippets:

tech and echo begin digging around in his wiring as echo's health has lately began to decline rapidly. Blood transfusions are becoming daily, exhaustion occurs much quicker, and newest to the issues are these seemingly random seizures. They've attempted many outside options at remedying the problem but it was becoming urgently clear that the only way to get answers would be to open up his system and understand exactly how his body operates from the inside out. Echo is mostly on edge because he fears finding the answer that is he's just doomed to die soon, and that his body was in no way sustainable outside of that fridge. He fears the idea of dying so much that he has manic considerations of being put back in some sort of stasis chamber. Death, which he never feared prior to the citadel, but now he's come to be you know uhhh quite traumatized from it. But he also hates the idea of that fridge!! caught between two terrible options, wowie here ill add some more breakdown of that in a read more if anyone is interested in paragraphs of bullshit:

as for a brief descriptor on the shit on his head and body, from this paragraph:

Tech: these rivets across your skull are not simple ports one can just plug into. They're a very unique structure, containing an extremely delicate, but long system of thin metallic fibers wiring throughout your brain. These 'rivets' then act as anchors to those metal fibers, which then respond to very specific electric signals that we can access at the nodes on the surface here. If the signals sent are not exact. Well. Echo: yeah I get it I get it.

and some write up on how Tech begins to diagnose the problem:

Eventually Tech will find his way into deeper functions of the brain, finding shortcuts that were already developed by the Techno Union scientists for the sake of their own equipment likely. Categorized sections for monitoring all sorts of chemicals and levels within Echo's body, most of which were left on an automatic function to regulate.

Tech begins to understand that the key issue is that this program, and these automatic functions, were fitted for exactly the stasis chamber Echo had been put in, and if they want to begin fixing Echos phsyical body, he would have to start going in and coding line for line, functions that pertain to the body on a sustainability outside that fridge. Some functions were completely turned off, being that Echo was getting fed certain synthesized chemicals thru the machine, his brain had to be telling itself NOT to produce said things naturally.

But it's all very finicky work that requires continuous maintenance and updates, not much unlike a patch update to any other computer program, except this is Echo's life. It's an impossible amount of code to do in any short time frame, and so Tech will begin splicing lines of code from similar organic droids with systems of similar complexity.

They handle these sessions once per week, giving time for Echo's body to catch up and adjust. At first he begins feeling some nausea, his heart rate starts rising, but he insists something feels good about it and urges Tech to keep going. Echo begins to feel warmth back in his body, his mood increases, after about a month hair begins to grow again, muscle mass fills in what once was skeletal limbs, nail beds regain a lively shine. Besides a few errors in updates like over producing a chemical or small bouts of insomnia, everything seems On Course.

and then:

So now we get into the meat of the drama, which is a lot of Echo mania and identity issues:

By this point Tech has outfitted much easier screw on parts so they can go in and out of this program faster (the set up previously was hours of work) so pulling that up he theorizes that he will have to do more then just reverse programs that the Techno Union set up. Tech now believes he'll have to create NEW systems, as the old program appears to be getting corrupted from all of Tech's editing. The seizures are, at this point to their best guess, coming from this. That parts of his brain are literally crashing, and soon he's going to start having more serious issues like bro is gonna just have a massive stroke at some point. Tech points that out all regular voice and Echo is just 'great im back in the mental swamp' Now that Echo's learned that he has corrupted files eating away at his brain, and that the chance of having a massive stroke is like inevitable, he's back to feeling like anxious shit. It doesn't help that this will take Tech a lot of time to figure out. Truthfully he's putting as much effort as he can into it, but this is when Echo begins to get Really mentally unwell. He's both worrying and also trying NOT to worry out of fear that it's going to complicate the program even more. Echo begins to have identity issues, coming to rely more on the mechanics then the organics that make him. He doesn't feel like a human with robot parts anymore, he feels like a robot with human parts.

and it keeps going like there's parts where echo is begging Tech to up programs on dopamine generation and Tech has to turn him down cause that would just be creating an addiction problem, situations where Echo starts trying to mess with his own brain, situations where he tries to kill Tech, its a lot of rambling but im not a writer, like i can't write for shit and I'd like to try and draw it instead

[dkisms]

Warrior

Wonwoo x afab!reader /// enemies to lovers /// 5k words /// smut

You’ve hated Wonwoo’s guts for most of your esports career. He’s always targeted you, and you’ve had enough. 

      If one person on planet Earth hates Jeon Wonwoo, it’s you. In fact, that’s how you feel right now, with the stupid little grin on his stupid face looking at you from across the stage, brow arched at you. He’s teasing you for sure, and the bright red ‘LOSE’ on the stage above you does absolutely nothing to change that.

      You honestly had no idea when Wonwoo started to act like this. As a woman on an esports team for League, you’ve always been careful of every move you’ve made. Two years ago, you joined ASTAR, much to the disappointment of many in the world. In fact, Wonwoo had been kind to you previously, going on stream many times to express how women belonged in the sport, and how he was excited to game with you.

At least, that was what you thought. 

      Now, every single time you play, either practice or in comp, your screen stains black and white, now matter what you do. Every move? Wonwoo’s there. Switch to top? So is he. At this point, even your team starts to feel bad for you. In any regular match against any other team, no one can beat your Seraphine (or fiddlesticks, if feeling frisky). 

      Your team captain gets up before you, patting your head. As much as it seems comforting, the steam coming from your ears and the blood boiling in your veins has yet to cease. You exhale loudly, getting up to follow your team. The next ten minutes go by in a blur, with the manager asking the team about the matches while heading to the bus, barely a blink coming from your face. 

      Even when you got to your base, all you could do was trudge to your dorm, and get in bed, wallowing in silence. The notification you got on your phone made you feel even worse, seeing your teammates go to stream and talk about the matches. To them, it wasn’t a bad loss, with Wonwoo’s team, JACKL, being number one in the country, and the easy contender to worlds, but it didn’t make the loss any easier.

      Your phone dinged with a text from your friend. ‘He’s talking about you.’ Was all it read, and it took everything in your soul to not throw the phone across the room, opting to open Wonwoo’s stream instead.

“We don’t bash other teams.” Was the only thing you heard as the stream loaded out of the advertisement, Wonwoo spinning back and forth on his chair as he read his comments.

“Are they as good as my team? No. JACKL is number one for a reason right now. However, they’re one of the best teams I’ve played against in years. Their mid showed mine how you can’t screw around in a match and expect them to not crush you into the dirt. My support had to pretty much solo heal them. Not great, but he’s gonna work on it.”

      Wonwoo rolled his eyes, brushing his newly silver hair out of his face. He chuckled at a few comments that came in, eyeing one from an international fan.

“Yes, I did go after their support. They rely on her too much on bot lane, and can’t protect her. If they leave her open, it’s my job to go after-”

      You killed the stream immediately after, the familiar anger coming back out. ‘Fuck Jeon Wonwoo, and fuck his team,’ you thought, throwing your phone onto the bed, and heading over to your computer, turning it on. As much as bed therapy helps, the fury in your bones could only be solved by crushing as many people as physically possible in the game, and enjoying the cheez-its you had left. Unfortunately for you, the stupid game hates you, and you nearly just decided to evaporate from the planet entirely seeing your team.

JAKCL_EveryWonwoo was on your team.

Jeon Wonwoo was on your fucking team!

      It seems he noticed as well, as the chat started to roll through his messages at an alarming rate. 

‘Boba???? ASTAR_BobA???’

‘Good to see you again, BobA!’

‘Are you my support??? This is crazy’

‘Yes, I’m your support. Now hurry and pick’ You wrote back, cooling down. The game loaded in, and you picked the route farthest away from Wonwoo. If you had to play with him, you refused to be near him only if necessary, and maybe let him die a couple times. Maybe.

     As much as you hated Wonwoo, he was fucking good. Way too good at this damn game, with the amount of times he saved your ass. The bot lane was pretty much useless, leading you to have to take over, and he pretty much took over the south side of the jungle with you, killing as many as he could. The pretty 15/2/18 was growing by the second on your leaderboard, and his 28/6/13 made the two of you look like you were dancing with each other on the field as you finished the match, a ghost of a grin on your face. It was quickly removed, however, when you got a message outside of the match. 

JACKL_EveryWonwoo has sent you an invitation. 

     Against every bone in your body screaming at you not to accept, you had to. What better way to learn how he plays than to play with him? Right? You even checked, he’s not streaming. You let out a sigh, making sure your headset mic was working, and joined the group. 

“I wasn’t too sure you’d accept.” Wonwoo teased, the grin in his voice easily apparent. 

“Had to get my mic.” You said, watching him change to a casual lobby.  

“Mmm,” He said, hitting the queue. “You did good today.” 

“Sure,” You said, clear in your voice that you didn’t want to talk about it. “So, why invite me?” 

“I’m trying to show you that your team is taking advantage of you.” Wonwoo said, picking his character with you, and choosing to go bot lane. 

“Listen, I don’t need you bashing my team, okay? We did what we could.” You snapped. 

“I’m not bashing them. Yet. But I promise, you’re worth more than you think.” He said, shutting up as the game started. 

     While Wonwoo wasn’t… great at bot lane, he definitely kept up. In fact, he was shockingly right about your team. He was taking bullets and arrows with every match you played, and for hours, had you questioning your team’s plays. At four A.M., when he ended the matches, he sat with you in silence as you looked over match replays. 

“Listen, don’t take it to heart. Just understand you might have to rework some stuff. I know your coach is retiring, so next year, you can work with the new one to find out about plays, okay?” He said. 

“Yeah,” you said, voice dry. “I’m hopping off. Have a good night.” 

“Night.” 

——///——

     You groaned at the buzzing of your phone, reaching over to grab it, and rubbing your eyes. The yell you let out seeing the 250+ notifications decorating your screen could have woken up anyone sleeping. JACKL_EveryWonwoo follows you, tagged you in a video, tagged you in a picture… the notifications kept going late into the morning, clearly after you had fallen asleep. The first was a picture of your characters emoting, one you had sent to him as a joke. Every video after that was VOD’s of every match you had, and the comments were endless. 

‘She’s actually so good. Does her team just suck?’

‘He works well with her. If I was JACKL, I’d be calculating offers.’

‘I knew he was going after her for a reason. Man’s knew she held the team together’

     As much as you could keep reading the comments to inflate your ego, you were NOT excited for the upcoming PR nightmare, especially with the lineups for the upcoming tournament to be announced this week. Knowing the industry, your team would be out in seconds with them Matching ASTAR and JACKL. 

     Your phone ringing broke you from your spiraling anxiety, with your friend’s picture on screen. You pressed the accept button, only for a piercing scream to nearly blow your ear drums. 

“What. The. Fuck?!” Avia shrieked. “Why are you all over his Twitter?! I thought you hated him!”

“I do,” You said, exasperated. “He wanted to show me my team sucked at protecting me when I was vital to the lineup. He did.”

“I know, ASTAR is getting lamblasted on every media site, it’s hilarious. Your teammates are… trying to defend themselves,” She said, as you heard a knock on the door. 

     You ended the call, and opened your door to see your manager, who requested a statement about the play from the previous game. After a quick tweet, most of the internet was cooling off. 

“So, we have a practice match,” Your manager said, pulling out a clipboard, as he walked with you downstairs to the rest of the group, already playing. “JACKL.” 

     You turned, startled, pausing before you sat down. “Is that really okay? After the Twitter BS?” 

“We have no choice. We planned this weeks ago,” the manager said, and you just sat quietly, while they set up the custom matches. 

     At the start of the match, you knew it was going to be horrible. If your team was a little turned around during the first tournament, then this was like a tornado going off. In fact, it pissed you off more when Wonwoo immediately killed you. Actually, you barely remember a time you were alive, if any. At the end of the match, you were so pissed off, you shut yourself into your own room, pissed.

—-///—-

     The moment the tournament matchups were announced a few days later, the stress in your body melted. Thankfully, JACKL were in the other side of the bracket, arguably harder than yours. Thankfully, this seemed to have also motivated your team, and within a few practice matches, they were back in order. 

“Wake up!” The manager called, hopping onto the bus. “First match of the playoffs. I didn’t want to talk about this here, but I believe this is the best place for it. Listen… the company is gonna have to make changes if we don’t win. They don’t know if they want to keep everyone, or if they want to dissolve. Either way, you’ll be contacted shortly about your contract.” He said, clearing his throat. 

“Seriously?!” Her mid laner said. “Dude- I can’t fucking believe this shit.”

     The rest of the drive was relative silence from the group. Many wondered where they’d go, and you were no exception. The skin around your nails was raw by the the time you got to your locker room, filled with an ice cold fear of your future. The manager tried to comfort everyone as much as he could, up until your team took the stage. 

     The ice hardened into a lump in your stomach, one made even worse as you looked around at the crowd. Signs were decorating the audience, and you nearly choked on your own spit, seeing JACKL front row.

“Why the fuck are they here?” The top lane called over the headsets, your team agreeing. 

“No fucking clue,” You said. “Watching us, I guess? To be fair, the news of a team revamp got put out. Maybe seeing if they can steal anyone.” 

     The midlaner just nodded in response, as the signal for the match to start was activated, and bans were chosen quickly. 

“Going Senna,” you called, setting up a protect strategy. 

     The game was one of the longest you’ve had, knowing how intense team emotions were. After the first victory round, you ran up and down the hall stairs to gain some energy, and the second match was a breeze. Against your wishes, however, after your matches, you were stuck front row watching JACKL. 

“They’re fucking good,” Your manager said, eyeing the plays. It was annoying, and to be honest, seemed a little showy. 

      At the end of the first match, the smirk Wonwoo gave you was enough to make you glare, knowing exactly what he was playing at. He was showing off at this point, and trying to get your attention. With the amount of times he had looked over in your direction, you were starting to get pissed off, and the manager was starting to notice. 

“You really made him mad, hm? Play a practice match or something?”

“No. He’s fucking irritating, though.” You said, and your coach perked up. 

“It reminds me of my neighbor’s kid. Idiot thought being an ass was his way of flirting. Y’know, messing with your crush…?” He trailed off, seeing your face. “Nevermind.”

“Don’t even,” You said, getting up. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

      As you wandered into the player halls, after refusing to use the public restroom seeing the lines, you were sharply stopped by Jeon Wonwoo running into you.

“Ah, the golden girl! I wanted to see you today.” He said, a grin lighting up his face. 

“Can I help you?” You asked, with pursed lips. 

“Yeah. You see my match? It was pretty fucking good.” He said, teasing. “Y’know, if you joined my team, you’d get the same treatment. Princess and all.”

      Your eyes narrowed as you scoffed. “As if, Jeon Wonwoo. Let me be straight with you. I don’t like you. You bash my time, try to steal me from my group, and post matches without my permission, which, mind you, had audio. If I said anything iffy, it would be a PR nightmare. Not only that, but it already was! My team had to make a statement twice. Now, I don’t know why the hell you keep messing with me, but I’ve had enough, seriously. I’m unable to do my job in any sense of the word. I know my teammates aren’t doing great, they’re at retirement age and are injured half the time, but I don’t want to hear about it. Enough.” You snapped, finally feeling some weight off your chest. All Wonwoo could do was stand silently, swallowing roughly at the words, as you sped walked off in another direction, away from him.

—-////—-

     A week later, you finished your second match. To be honest, your conversation with Wonwoo had lit a fire, making you push to prove your team wasn’t useless, in anyone’s eyes. You dropped your headset onto the table, quickly exiting the stage, not wanting to talk to anyone, until you were stopped by the manager, and another woman. 

“Hi. I’m Sasha, I work for ASTAR’s main offices. I wanted to talk to you about your work on the team.” She said, and the both of you quickly headed into a small meeting room.

“Now, I understand you’ve played with us for a year, at most. Unfortunately, you’ve seen us quite vulnerable this year,” She said, laughing. “I’ll be honest with you. Your bottom laner and jungler are retiring, and I’m only resigning you and the mid laner, if you’re willing. I already have next year’s team set, and contracts sent out for future prospects. I’m willing to offer you a salary increase, if you’ll have it.”

“I’d love to rejoin.” You said, and she quickly slid a contract, letting you read over it. “I’ve sent it to the company’s lawyers, so you can sign within the week. We won’t announce it until after the tournament ends.”

“Yes ma’am,” You said, smiling at the paper. 

At least Jeon Wonwoo can’t fuck this up.

—-////—-

      Two weeks later, you sat in the locker room, biting your nails, watching a random band play on the tv before the tournament final was to go. Your team had taken the cake on the left side of the bracket, but that left you with only one team left to go, and you weren’t sure if you even had a chance.

JACKL.

      You took a deep breath, centering yourself. You were oddly calm going into it, knowing you still had a future with the team, but were still stressed. As you took a final sip of your drink, you headed to the stage, only to be met with Wonwoo’s piercing eyes, and a shit eating grin. 

     Well, fuck. There goes your screen time, was all you could think, scowling at him, and opting to set up. The keyboard glowed as you clicked away, checking the mouse, and remained silent as the announcers droned on about the game, and every playstyle, the crowd roaring at the game. You picked your character after the bans, quickly making it onto the field, and the bottom lane. 

“We gotta be careful this round,” You said, moving back and forth. “They’re heavy on movement. If you see something, say something.”

“Got it,” Your midlaner said, as the game quickly began. 

      As the game stretched out, Wonwoo was noticeably gone. Before you could even note he must have listened to you, your screen turned gray, and you looked to see Wonwoo had killed you. Looking over to him across the stage, he didn’t return your stare, only smiling at the game, as you huffed. 

      The first match carried deep into a match against the dragons, but as much as you hoped you could keep up, Wonwoo stole nearly every dragon on the field, leading your team to play a losing game of catch up, until the match ended. 1-0 rang out on every screen as the crowd cheered for the other team, and you quickly headed off stage to recoup with your team.

      The second match was a turnover, however, as your toplane deployed a new strategy of killing Wonwoo from a distance before he could ever get to you, leading your group to come out on top in this match, and for you to grin brightly.

“One left, boys!” You called, high fiving your team, and sticking your tongue out at Wonwoo, who could only shake his head at your antics.

      The arena darkened with lights, as you sat down at your computer. The technology around you glowed with light, and your fingers almost felt as if they were pulsing with energy, as you made your final round bans and picks. 

      As you started the round, you opted to play as safe as possible in the start, gaining money. At one point, you were shocked, as you managed to kill Wonwoo, who eyed you from across the arena, daring you to try again. Again, you did.

      If when you played together previously, it looked like dancing, this looked like war. You didn’t even care about the majority of the others, knowing they’d be fine, instead opting to go after the star player on the team. You and your bot lane pushed against Wonwoo, quickly taking him down time after time, until the first dragon appeared, and your own jungler lost it to their mid lane.

      Around this time, you were positive the game was over. Wonwoo quickly turned the match on your head, giving back everything you were given, and then some. The match was going downhill, and nothing could stop them, as they approached your base, the familiar black and white screen turning red, as you lost the final match. 

      You let out a shaky breath, watching JACKL jump around in victory, and heading over to give you all a handshake, and your team quickly exited the stage, heading back to the locker room. A few members quickly left, but you opted to take a few interviews about your team, to help your fans stay calmer, promising victory next year. 

      After what felt like an eternity of interviews and pictures, you notice quite a few members of JACKL as they greet you, heading back home to their friends and family. You said goodbye to the others in your team, returning to the quiet locker room to grab your bag, only turning around at the sound of the door softly closing, seeing Wonwoo.

“Congrats,” You said, honestly. “As fucking annoying as it is to not be able to play much, you did your best.”

“Thank you.” Wonwoo said. 

“But seriously? Pretty fucking annoying to be killed all the time. Don’t do it again next year.” You said, heading to the door, only for him to block it right in front of you.

“I know it’s annoying. Got a little feel of it today from you, to be honest.”

“Then why the hell do you do it so much?” You asked, exasperated.

“Honestly?” Wonwoo said, eyes scanning your face, the silence growing. “You’re really fucking hot when you’re pissed off.”

“I’m… sorry?” You asked, eyes blinking at him, bag falling off your shoulder.

      Wonwoo moved closer to you, making you back up against the door. He let out a soft sigh, scanning your face, as he leaned in towards you.

“The first match I played against you, your teammate got you killed. I saw you curse him out over and over, and the angrier you got, I liked it,” he said, fixing your hair. “So, ever since then, I couldn’t help but piss you off.”

“Are- are you serious? You have to be joki-” You were cut off as Wonwoo kissed you quickly to shut you up.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was joking.” He said, ears red.

      For a second, everything clicked into place. The first match you ever had with JACKL should have been a tell from the beginning. Your bot lane had made a stupid decision, not checking the grass next to you before letting you go in, and had instantly got you and him killed. You had been pissed beyond belief after he had promised he checked everything, and you had reamed him out for an hour over it during and after the game. Wonwoo had been watching you, in shock, and you thought he was being annoying when he killed you again, and suddenly started killing you every chance he got.

Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t being a dick.

No, it turns out he was just horny.

      Something in your brain fizzled out, and you honestly couldn’t think anymore, as you reached up behind his neck, pulling him back down to meet your lips. Wonwoo tasted like the stupidly sweet lollipops he always ate before a match, and always used to tease you with. You supposed they held a different meaning to you, now, as his tongue licked your lips to kiss you deeper. His hands pulled your waist closer, dangerously close to your ass.

      You weren’t sure how much time had passed before he had completely given in to grab your ass, muttering for you to jump. You hopped straight up, and wrapped your legs around his waist, and he carried the two of you from the doorway over to the couch on the other side of the room, dumping the two of you onto it. 

“Hey,” Wonwoo said, hands on your hips, looking more at your lips than your eyes. “If you want to stop here, I’ll get it. But you’ve gotta let me know now.”

“Jeon Wonwoo, if you stop now, I’ll actually hate you for the rest of my life.” You said, and Wonwoo laughed, reaching up to take off his glasses, and setting them on a nearby table, before leaning down to kiss you again. 

     The grip on your thighs felt like fire, and you couldn’t help but let out a whimper as he moved to attach his lips to your neck, sucking a spot where your jaw meets your neck. You felt painfully aware of the heat growing in your stomach, letting your fingers move to his hair to lightly tug, keeping yourself grounded. 

     Wonwoo’s hips pressed into yours, and his fingers moved from your hips up your shirt. You lifted up your back as he yanked your shirt off, leaning back to take his off. You oogled him for a good minute, opting to run your fingers down his abs. 

“Enjoying the view?” Wonwoo teased, and you nodded, playfully licking your lips.

 “Who said video game nerds can’t be fit?” You teased. 

      He chose to ignore your comments, instead moving to remove your bra, and tossing it somewhere else in the room.

“Good thing I locked the fucking door.” He said, mouth moving to kiss down your neck, to your chest.

      The moment his lips met your nipple, you let out a breathy moan. His hand met the waistband of your shorts, and he gave you a second before moving further, hand reaching to cover your mound. 

“Tell me to stop if you don’t like it.” He said, and seconds later, his fingers were plunging into your core.

      The two fingers within you felt like heaven, while his thumb moved in circular ministrations along your sensitive bud. The heat grew in your belly with every movement, and Wonwoo was forced to cover your mouth.

“Listen, I’m all for you being loud any other time, but I don’t want to get caught.” Wonwoo said. “Be quiet, or I’ll have to quiet you.” He warned, and you nodded.

      The fogginess in your brain grew, and heat coiled in your belly, letting out a warning whimper to Wonwoo, who quickly removed his hand, licking at his fingers. You would’ve thought that was the hottest thing ever, except for the empty feeling in your belly making you irritated instead. 

“What the fuck, Wonwoo.” You said, irritated.

“I’ll let you come on my fingers any day, but I’d rather the first time you do be with me in you.” He said, and your face reddened at the raunchy statement coming from his lips.

      Instead of letting you say anything, Wonwoo lifted your hips to remove your shorts and underwear in one fell swoop, eyeing your soaked core, as he removed the rest of his clothes.

“Hate me this, hate me that, but you’re soaked,” Wonwoo teased, pulling your hips closer to his. “Last time to back out, mortal enemy.”

“Wonwoo, please,” You said, long past annoyed, and more desperate to come. “I will find anyone in this building if you don’t fuck me now.”

     His eyes glinted at the challenge, and slowly pushed into your core. He let out a groan as he bottomed out, feeling you pulse around him. Once you gave the go ahead, Wonwoo began his slow movements in and out of your core, the sounds you made egging him on.

“Wonwoo, deeper, please.” You begged.

Wonwoo obliged to your begging, shifting your hips to hit deeper, and pulling you into a deep kiss to keep you quiet.

 “Wonwoo, I’m so close, please don’t stop.” You begged in his ear.

      The breathy moans in your ear weren’t doing anything to help the heat in your core, and the cord was threatening you, ready to snap. His hip movements grew sloppy as he moved to hold your hips in place, and one final thrust from Wonwoo had you seeing stars, and biting at Wonwoo’s hand over your mouth as you came, Wonwoo letting out a moan as he came, filling you. His body felt shaky as he pulled out of you, moving over to a table to grab a tissue, and cleaning up the mess before any of the couch stained.

      He pulled on his clothes as you got up, looking around for your clothes, and he helped you get ready, in majority silence. Before you looked for your bag, however, he stopped you. 

“I understand if I’ve turned you away from me from my shitty actions. To be honest, I’d probably feel the same, but I really do like you, and I mean it. I didn’t want to fuck you to take any advantage.” He said, nervous.

“Wonwoo, please, calm down. You may have been annoying, but you’re not a shit person. I know you didn’t hook up with me just to hook up,” You said, handing him his glasses to put on. “Um. I’m not terribly good at this, but I’d be willing to continue this… something, or whatever it is, if you want. Serious or not.” You said, and he beamed up at you, and you felt your heart squeeze.

     He nodded, and grabbed your bag for you. “Let’s go, then.” He said, unlocking the door for you, and heading with you to your car.

—-////—-

      The sucker in your mouth did nothing to calm your nerves, as you texted Wonwoo. After your escapade, you and him had a very private don’t-tell-anyone set up, not wanting anyone to fuck with the two of you. It worked for the better, as Wonwoo was able to sign with a new team with a big buck contract, even if it was going to be away from you. To be honest, you didn’t care about being public, and neither did he. Were you sometimes jealous of attention? Yes. Did the pictures and videos you saved from fans help? Also yes. To be fair, though, he was in your bed, not theirs, and it was victory enough.

      The manager ran over to you to knock you out of your thoughts, gushing about the new team setup, and how the world wasn’t ready. Your message to Wonwoo remained on delivered as you spun in your chair, anxiety rising. To be honest, you were starting to get worried, as you stressed, as you tapped away mindlessly on your keyboard.

      You sighed at the delivered on text, again, as you heard a ruckus growing in the entry of the dorms. Not dealing with that, you thought, until a hand on your chair stopped you from turning, and your sucker was ripped from your mouth. You turned to yell at whomever was next to you, only to freeze, seeing Wonwoo stick it into his mouth.

“What the fuck…?” You trailed off, as your manager came over. 

“Oh! Glad you’re getting settled in, Wonwoo,” He said, and turned to you. “Our new jungler!” 

      You nodded to the manager in shock, and Wonwoo held a shit eating grin on his face as he stared at you the whole time, and winked at you. You slowly put your headset back on as the manager requested a quick game, and nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt Wonwoo touch your hand quickly, grinning at his screen, as the game started.

No, you didn’t hate Jeon Wonwoo, but he was absolutely going to be the death of you.

[j0kers-light]

Sorry if you've already done this but could you write something about a sick!reader? Maybe the reader got the flu, and how Joker would react/if at all? And maybe reader was the type to ignore it and try to continue on with her life normally, which results in her getting sicker (but not deadly or anything). Maybe like she had the flu but since she never stopped working she got worse (or maybe got pneumonia for drama, if your comfortable with that) and took longer to recover. Totally not me here 😅😅😅

Dang you ain’t gotta call yourself out like that anon 🥴

I haven’t written a sick!reader yet. Lemme fix that. You know Chaos is all about drama so buckle up! I hope you enjoy and get better love!

Side note: I was asking my mother questions to fact check the medical info and after answering them all, she has a moment of realization. "Who has pneumonia, Chaos?! Are they okay?" 🖤✨

You are not sick, you just have a slight fever which will go away in time. You don’t have time to rest, you need to finish your work! That’s the lie you’ve been telling yourself for half a week.

Since it’s just a fever, you don’t bother Joker who is busy doing whatever he does.. blowing up stuff? Murder? Annoying Batman?

Whatever J does, it’s not important enough to worry him.

You’ve been ignoring the mild symptoms for days now. Nothing too severe, so you continue typing away on your computer, blissfully unaware it will get much worse.

Joker wakes up to get ready and spots you on the couch, looking dazed. He takes in your flushed cheeks and glassy eyes and suspects you’re getting worse rather than better.

The entire week you’ve been acting strange, waving off his growing concern, and being more stubborn than usual. He doesn't like it but won’t address the issue until he knows you're on the verge of death. He hopes it doesn't reach that point.

“You still with me pretty girl?” J doesn’t like how long it takes for you to respond and declares he’s staying home tonight.

Then you remember he has a big money exchange happening tonight that he can’t miss for anything. You would feel guilty if he stayed home and missed it all for naught.

You quickly put on a façade. “I’m fine! Don’t worry about me!” It takes a lot of reassuring to convince Joker that you’re okay and after almost an hour of sucking up, he leaves.

The second he’s out the door, you have a coughing fit. You do feel a bit.. off but you are adamant. You are not sick.

Joker on the other hand isn’t stupid. He knows you are sick. Your breathing is labored, and you looked near faint. You are getting worse.

He keeps the live feed of your apartment open on his phone all night to watch over you.

Just because he’s a busy man doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. In fact, he’s absolutely worried. Joker has food and healthy snacks delivered to your place while he’s gone, but you don’t eat them.

Instead you sit up and type away, acting like your body isn’t slowly shutting down.

He’s hardly listening to the meeting, he’s fully focused on his phone as your current coughing fit has you nearly hacking up a lung.

He can see the blood dotting the handkerchief and when you stand up for the first time in hours, his heart plunges to his stomach seeing you faint.

Screw the meeting. The moment Joker watched his Bunny pass out in the living room, he's on a mission to reach your side.

Frost knew what to do in his absence. You are Joker's only priority. Batman could be right behind him and Joker would not care.

Why did he listen to you? He should have never left in the first place. You were stubborn, near delirious with sickness to make any sound decisions! Why did he leave you at home all alone?! He blamed himself the entire ride over. Thankfully he had a mind to call Dr. Sarai so she could be on the way.

You needed medical attention at this point. You ignored this for far too long.

Joker wasted no time bursting the door in and shouting your name in a panic. He went through a thousand emotions finding you unresponsive on the floor.

The main one? He didn’t want to be alone again, not after finding you. He won't know a love like yours ever again, even if he tried. You had to wake up. You have to open your eyes and tell him you're okay.

And this time you better mean it. If you lie to his face again.... Joker can't take it.

Dr. Sarai arrives and quickly gets to work administering fluids and other meds that get you back on the mend but not fast enough.

Only his Bunny is dumb enough to brush off pneumonia as a mere fever. Joker wants to kill you for being so stupid but first he'll have to wait at least three more weeks until you're truly back to normal.

Then the two of you are going to have a long talk about telling him the truth.

[whatevertheweather]

Hellooooo on this somewhat dreary Sunday. I have been almost completely incapable of writing lately, but this day is more than half over and I'd like to manage at least one (1) thing, so I'm going to throw together a few snippets from the backburner projects that I don't usually share things from. I have a notion that switching it up this way will...realign my brain. Or something.

So here we go, each from a different WIP, in order of how much they've pulled me away from the things I should actually be working on. You'll get three that are reasonably comparable moods and then we're going to switch the tone in rather a jarring way.

Under the cut because not a one of them will be under six sentences.

ONE

“Don’t give me that,” Baz tosses his head. “We talk about this at least weekly.” “We actually talk very deliberately around it,” Agatha corrects with a smirk. “Yes, well, we both know what it is we’re not talking about,” he snaps. It goes very loudly unspoken. No one named, just a tacit understanding that Baz is gone for someone, casual mention of highly specific hypotheticals, and an uptick in the conversation about it when Simon leaves the room. “I’m obsessed with your ex-boyfriend, are you happy? Does it bring you joy to hear me say it?” Agatha heaves a long sigh, her mouth pursed in thought. “It’s actually not as fulfilling as I thought it would be,” she muses, stopping once more while her dog pretends it has any pee left to gift to the local shrubbery. “I���m kind of underwhelmed.” Baz looks up to the sky. “Ever so sorry my problems don’t entertain.” “What problems?” she says. “My ex-boyfriend just sent you a musical love confession. I will bet actual money that you’ve had dreams like this.” “I don’t know what he meant by sending it!”

TWO

As Simon is returning from loitering in the copy room for a change of scenery, he sees on Penny's screen that she's in the middle of responding to an email from Baz.  Simon flips her paper tray off the desk. “Oh, rotten luck!” “Simon!” Penny yelps as she futilely lurches to catch her scattered papers. “Why would you do that?” “Me? I’m over here,” Simon says from her other side, reaching across her station and deleting the drafted email. Penny’s head pops up with another indignant sound for the click of her mouse, but Simon is dropping into his own chair while she’s still bent at the waist in hers, apparently unable to decide whether to figure out what he’s done on her computer or to collect her paperwork. Simon leaves her to it and opens Baz’s email at his station.

THREE

“Snow—” “It’s not—look, it’s not a big deal, we can just ignore it—” “Ignore—?” “It doesn’t change anything, it doesn’t even mean anything, it’s fine, like, what’s it even matter, really?” Simon made the mistake of glancing up at Baz again after finally pulling his eyes away. He looked like someone had smacked him in the face with a fly swatter. Or a bolt of lightning. “Nothing has to change.” Baz’s mouth pulled into a snarl as he charged forward a step, but he stopped. His back snapped into position, spine straight and rigid. Simon could see it play out on his face as he drew a line between them, pulled himself back in. “Are you messing with me?” he whispered. “What?” “If you’re messing with me, I will disembowel you.” “Jesus Christ, Baz—” “I will eviscerate you,” he hissed. “Are you messing with me?” Maybe he should say yes.

FOUR

Baz didn’t open his eyes. He kept his hand over his mouth and turned his face into his pillow, tried to choke down the sound building in his chest as Snow knelt beside his bed. Snow’s heart had kicked up to a quicker beat, but his breath was steady. The weight of his hand settled on the blanket, just shy of Baz’s elbow. “What can I do?” he asked. It knocked into something already crooked in Baz’s chest. “You’re—you’re shivering, are you cold?” Baz screwed his eyes up tighter and nodded. “Okay, okay, here—” Simon stood, stepped away, stepped again, shifted beside the bed with a heavy rustle of fabric. “Here.” Baz opened his eyes and shook his head, a breath stuck in his throat as he jerked back from Simon’s blanket, pushed it away. “Okay, hey, okay,” Simon said softly, twisting the blanket around his hand and throwing it to the floor. “There, okay? Okay. Do you—can I—hey, okay, can I just—?” Simon did it slowly, leaning over Baz’s bed with a hand poised between them like he was ready for Baz to lash out, ready to retreat. Baz didn’t, and Simon kept going. Baz didn’t lift his eyes past Simon’s chin when Simon laid down beside him.

That last one is the last one because we're ranking by things that have taken up time recently. If we're going all-time, it should be number one. It is in fact in a WIP sub-folder called "the labyrinth is growing," where it lives in perpetual limbo with five other documents.

Now tags <3

@monbons @forabeatofadrum @artsyunderstudy thank you for the tags today!

@fatalfangirl @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @moodandmist @mooncello @whogaveyoupermission

@cutestkilla @run-for-chamo-miles @iamamythologicalcreature @thewholelemon @rimeswithpurple

@alexalexinii @martsonmars @facewithoutheart @aristocratic-otter @youarenevertooold

@bookish-bogwitch @noblecorgi @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ileadacharmedlife

[echantedtoon]

Demonstober Day 19 Cupid

In classical mythology, Cupid /ˈkjuːpɪd/ (Latin: Cupīdō [kʊˈpiːdoː], meaning "passionate desire") is the god of desire, love, attraction and affection. 

Tagging: @lavenderdropp @six-eyed-samurai @trancylovecraft @shadyd3ar @cherrysuzaku

@nousija @mspurpl3

Remember if you want to be added to the spooktober taglist lemme know

"You know I've been having some really weird things happen to me ever since my ex dumped me on Valentine's Day last year."

Your friend blinked at you from across the table as he paused mid bite in his burger. Murata blinked at you before slowly lowering said food. "Huh? How so?"

You hadn't been wrong about the weird bad luck you've been having since Valentine's Day last year. Your cheating ex-boyfriend had dumped you over text after ghosting you at the park you were supposed to meet at for a star gazing date and left you to angry cry all the way home. Luckily you hadn't been together long so it only took about two months for you to completely get over him. But ever since that day things have been rather...strange.

It started with your new neighbor. His package had mistakenly been delivered to your house so you went to go return it to him, however as you spoke something pushed you from behind and you ended up slamming painfully into him before you both landed on the floor. In front of his wife. Who went ballistic seeing a stranger on top of her husband. In the end you had a headache from where your heads slammed together, you had to pay for the china that the package contained because your combined weight crushed it, and one of your new neighbors now hate you. Great. 

You chalked it up to a gust of wind at the time before forgetting about it. However there was a slew of other things that happened to you over the next year.

Somehow the resident annoying office playboy got assigned to work with you on a project after your VERY confused boss swore he sent him an email assigning him to someone else. So you had to endure his constant flirts for two weeks. 

You were constantly bumping into people, knocking someone down, or spilling your drink on them and vise versa. Which lead to many, MANY fights, slight coffee burns, money out of your pocket paying for their drinks, and fights from their angry partners. Once you got trapped in an elevator with a pretty girl who happened to be claustrophobic and ended up vomiting from the stress all over your new coat as you attempted to calm her down.  Then there was the time you got stuck in traffic with three flat tires costing you lots of money and the tow truck driver was a creepy older man who kept asking for your number.

However what must've been the most painful blow was the call you got one day while TRYING to fix your broken pc. Your phone wouldn't stop buzzing on the table annoying until you finally got fed up and answered it with a scowl.

"WHAT?!"

"Um...Is this Y/n L/n?", a man's voice asked.

"Yeah? Who's this?" You held your phone with your shoulder as you tried to screw the back of the computer back on. 

"I matched with you on your profile. I wanted to set up a date."

You paused. "What?"

"Your profile? Your Single Me profile. I matched with you yesterday but you never responded-"

You immediately hung up on the guy and blocked him assuming it was either a scam, prank call, or he mistook you for a person with the same name. You didn't have a profile on any dating websites. However after four more calls from different people who asked when you were free for a date. A search of your phone surprised you when you found an app you DEFINITELY never downloaded and logging into said app lead you to a profile with your pictures, interests, and phone number listed.  You immediately deleted the profile and app before taking your phone to the electronics store the next day for a spyware scan. Someone must've hacked into your phone to impersonate you and made the profile but the tech guy told you there wasn't anything wrong.

You still rebooted your phone and added new privacy settings just in case.

It's been a little quiet now. You haven't had any accidents or any weird interactions with anyone else so far for about two months now. So maybe your weird luck involving stupid romcom scenarios was finally over.

"Like every other time I told you about?", you pointed out deadpanned to him.

He shrugged and just went back to eating his burger with a happy hum. "Maybe it was just a funk you were in for a while? Like how some people get burn out of writers block. Nothing's happened to you for a while now."

"I guess you're right. Nothing bad is really happening." You placed you hands down and sighed. "I just hope this isn't some divine sign my love life is going to crap though."

"Cheer up! Being single isn't bad. In fact, it's really awesome. You don't have to worry about anyone else and you have a sweet bachelorette pad!"

Despite yourself you chuckled. Leave it to Murata to make you feel better. "*Sigh* Thanks, Man. It means a lot."

"Of course. You still going to that singles event for Valentine's Day tomorrow?"

"Nah. I'm just taking the day off and eating all the discounted chocolate the day after."

"Hell yeah! Discount chocolate is the best!...Are you sure you're ok though?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"You're holding my hand."

You blinked and looked down only to raise your eyebrows. Your hand had  been by your plate. Not laid on Murata's hand. Immediately you pulled away from your friend. "I'm sorry. I must've moved it without thinking." 

He laughed and shrugged it off. "No worries. We always do that. Did you see the new ScorpionMan movie?"

Guess your weird luck wasn't over yet. 

Didn't help that Valentine's Day was tomorrow. But you had the day off so you were just going to sleep in, order take out, and just play video games all day! A perfect day for someone like you and then just buy a lot of discounted chocolate the next day. Saying goodbye to your friend, you couldn't help but feel like someone was watching you..but you shrugged it off as you walked all the way home. You didn't pay any attention to anyone as you got back to your apartment and got inside. Doing your normal night routine before going to bed and nodding off.

"Hey! Wake up!"

You snorted..but went back to sleep.

"OOOH! Come on! Wake up already!! We're already behind an hour!"

Something shoved your shoulder hard enough to turn you on your stomach. THAT woke you up with a snort and you pushed yourself up onto your arms. Blinking tired eyes as green eyes beamed at you.

"Oh finally! I was worried you'd never wake up!," a green eyed woman with long pink hair tied into braids smiled widely at you. "Do you want breakfast first?"

....you slowly blinked. 

"Oh nevermind. We can get something to go so it'll be faster! First we need to get you up and ready for the day!" Out of nowhere she produced a long paper with a list written on it. "Our first stop is a speed dating event. It'll be fast and you might get a few people's numbers! Then there's a party your coworker is hosting. I know you got the day off but if you stay for a little bit you might connect with someone you already know! And who knows where that could lead?!" She threw her arms off in a positive cheerleader pose.

She continued to babble on about something as your tired self sat up and yawned before stretching out your back and rubbing at your face. Your tired mind didn't register the fully grown woman with two fluffy white dove wings fluttering from her back for a long time as she continued to babble on and gesturing at nothing.... Before you ever slowly blinked at her. And then the reality hit your tired mind.

THERE WAS A STRANGER IN YOUR HOME!!

The reality shocked you awake staring at her before you yelled scrambling back and falling off the bed. Your actions and the thud of your body hitting the floor made her pause and watch as you shot back up to your feet in a panic and grabbing the nearest thing  to arm yourself. Which happened to be your alarm clock. You grabbed it pulling your arm back like you were gonna throw a baseball at you and pointed with your other hand.

"WHO ARE YOU AND WHY ARE YOU IN MY APARTMENT?!"

She continued to blink at you before she gasped in realization. "OH MY GOSH!! I didn't introduce myself to you! HI!!" She waved an arm at you. "I'm Cupid and I'm here to find you that perfect soulmate!"

You stared at her. "...What?!"

"Don't worry! I know I haven't been able to get but on this day my powers are off the charts! I'll be able to find you a partner in no time!"

"...Ok..Did Murata put you up to this? Seriously who are you!? If you don't leave right now I'll call the police!" 

She squeaked out dropping the list before holding up her hands. "Wait, wait, wait! Please don't panic! I'm telling you the truth I swear!"

"Yeah right!"

"Look! I'll prove it to you!" In an instant her tiny fluffy wings snapped open and flapped rapidly. Your face fell in shock as she lifted three feet off the ground, twirled once, and then floated back down. "SEE?! I'm totally just here to help!"

....Clank-

The metal clock fell out of your hand as you continued to stare before you pointed at her. "You're-..." Your hands smacked your face. "This can't be real. I must have gone nuts!"

"NOPE!! Im real and here to save your love life!! I've tried to get it right for an entire year now but nothing I tried seemed to work. But I'm sure we'll have better luck today!"

.....Wait a second.

"Wait." You scowled. "You mean YOU'RE the one responsible for all the bad luck I've been having!?"

She paused blinking at your face before guilty tapping her fingers together. "W-Well...I wouldn't call it bad luck exactly."

"Do you know what you've put me through for the last year? Because of you my neighbor hates me!" You scowled harder crossing your arms. "And I lost so much money fixing things. Not to mention all the wasted money on all the spilt food. I still have scars on my lap from coffee burns!"

"Um..Well may-maybe bumping into people wasn't the best way to go about it-"

"Especially if they're already married or got a girlfriend!" You frowned harder at her puppy dog like face. "Why? Just-...Why have you been putting me through so much? You couldn't help anyone else?"

"Oh no. I could. But I saw how heartbroken you were last year after that nasty break up and I wanted to help. I don't why I haven't been having luck though. I'm supposed to help someone find love and you don't seem to love anything no matter how hard I try."

You blinked... before sighing and reaching out to facepalm. "Well that's where you're wrong. I do love things and people."

Immediately she literally up. "So you did find someone to love!?"

"Yes. Multiple people."

"Aw.~ A poly relationship!"

"Uh...No." She blinked as you gestured to her. "Hasn't it ever occurred to you that there's other kinds of love besides romantic? I can love someone and find fulfillment in loving my friends. My family. My pet cat. I still love all of them just as much as I would someone romantically."

Her eyes widened at you. "I..Never thought of that before."

"It's not that either. I have love for other things too. I love reading and going on walks and doing my other hobbies. I love my job. I love eating at my favorite restaurant. I love things. But most of all-" You pressed a hand to your chest. "I love myself. And as long as I love myself, I'll be perfectly fine. There's so much to love than just the overrated romantic aspect of it. Don't you think?"

She stood there for a long moment thinking before nodding. "You're right. I just never thought of it that way." She frowned like a kicked puppy again. "Now I feel really bad about everything I put you through. I'm so sorry."

"Hey. It's all good. Just promise me you won't push me into anyone again."

She giggled and nodded happily. "I promise!"

"Good...Hey. While you're here, do you wanna play a video game with me?"

[tokischaaaaa]

corny

!hamzah x !poc reader

summary: hamzah meets reader in curaçao , reader works at a vets clinic on the island, hamzah meets reader on the island due to him driving carelessly and hurting a liter of kittens. (hamzah’s a little dumb in dis one :P)

warning! : fluff!!

word count!: 975

   too goood- drake ft. rihanna

⇄              ◁◁  I I  ▷▷          ↻

00:32 ━━●━━━━━━━━ 03:12

it was hamzah’s second to last night in curaçao, he wanted to go out with a bang. not litterly to, he just wanted to get out on his own since he has been stuck with martin’s family the whole week. as hamzah was walking out, martin was editing the iguana mukbang, “be safe dude, let me know if you need something or if something goes wrong.” martin said seriously while still focused on the computer in front of him. hamzah nodded, appreciative of his friends worry of his wellbeing.

hamzah grabbed the keys on the counter and started his travels, he decided to plug in the directions to the farthest beach, soto is what popped up. he plugged his phone into the aux and began driving, as he was driving he realized how the sun was leaving his view, he decided to follow the sun, ‘screw the gps’ he said to himself. he followed the sun, followed it so he could see the sunset. last time he saw the sunset was with his siblings 5 years ago, finding and watching the sunset made him feel an emotional urge to follow the sun no matter what.. 

well until a cat popped up in the road, hamzah slammed the brakes. his heart was beating so fast that he his ears were pulsing at the same rate, he pulled over and opened his car door to see the mother kitten’s side slightly bleeding. hamzah’s mind was racing, ‘what should i do? should i call the police?’ he kept asking himself. from a distance he could hear a bike approaching him, he turned around and saw a young woman with green cargo shorts, blue bikini top and the thick curly brown hair that had risen due to the humidity approach him. “ya a’right?” she asked in her heavy accent, it took hamzah a few moments to answer her since she was so breathtaking, the departing sun had left such a beautiful filter across her skin, her skin was basically the color of deep gold. “hello, ya all right mister?” she asked once again, “oh, yes. no! i’m not alright, i was driving and this cat family stopped in the middle of the road, and then i tried-”. hamzah said attempting to explain while rubbing his forehead. “yeah im sure you tried,” the young woman scoffed as she got off her bike to inspect the wounded cat. 

as the young woman continued checking the wounded cat out, she said, “what are you even doing out here this late?”

“might sound corny, just wanted to follow the sun.” 

“ha! wait, what does corny mean?” 

“means like awkward funny, but yea i was just doing that.” 

“oh okay, so you running over this cat is corny!” she exclaimed putting her finger to her chin.

“no! that’s a horrible example!” hamzah cried

“what’s ya name man,” she asked softly placing the hurt cat in her arms. 

“hamzah, and you’rs?”

she said her name, her accent thicker than before. she took a cloth out of her pocket, and held it out to hamzah. “man hamzah, take this cloth and wrap the kittens in it. don’t forget one.” 

“okay, but what are you doing?”

“we doing! we gonna go to my clinic, ya messed up the mama.” she said.

hamzah nodded but before he could ask about transportation the young woman said , “we gotta ride in ya monster truck.” she smiled. 

hamzah nodded and opened the door for her with one hand while the other was holding the crying kittens. as they got in the car, the young woman directed hamzah to the clinic. as they were on the road, hamzah continued his music, now ‘too good’ by drake was playing , “this won’t take long, you’ll be able to see the sunset trust.” the young woman said. she realized how when hamzah was explaining the incident he was very passionate and determined to see the sunset. she could tell that that action had a very significant meaning to hamzah. 

hamzah’s worry started to drift, as his eyes stayed glued to the road he felt a pair of eyes looking at him, trying to read him, “what are you staring at?” hamzah said in a deep tone. “the corny hurter of the mother of the kittens,” she said giggling. “i told you i didn’t mean to!” hamzah gasped. “sure pretty boy, turn on the next stop sign.” the young woman said getting closer to hamzah and gently touching his jawline.

 being frank, the young woman was slightly tipsy from drinking a few too many mojitos at the beach. however that didn’t stop her from helping those who she specialized helping, animals. 

as she touched hamzah’s jaw , hamzah felt an urge to give her a sign to continue. it had been too long since he felt this especially from a stranger. 

“keep going.” he demanded. the young woman’s eyes widened. she blinked a few times before decking to continue, she came to the realization that meeting such an attractive stranger that obviously wasn’t a regular to the island was a rare, a rare moment that was worth taking advantage of like there wasn’t a tomorrow. but before she could continue with her plan to indulge in her lustful behavior she had to take care of the cats. she gently stroked his jaw once again, slower this time, feeling his skin. 

she quickly took off her finger once she reached his chin, “you too distracting pretty boy, the poor cats need my attention not you.” she sneered. hamzah scoffed in response. “okay sure, but maybe, i can get some of that attention if you know what i mean.” he smirked giving her the message.

“oh i get what you mean pretty boy.” she smiled looking down and playing with one of the kittens that laid in her lap. 

tokischaaaa speaks: so how bad yall want a part 2? 😈😈😈

[kilibaggins]

ONE MORE ONE MORE THIS ONE I JUST HAD TO

can i get ''I could keep you safe. They're all afraid of me.'' with Bucky too please?

My Knight | Bucky Barnes

Summary: Reader has some issues with her coworkers not doing their job how they should, and Bucky has a perfect plan that Reader... Doesn't agree with.

A/N: EEE thank you again fro the requests and again feel free to send as many as you'd like ! love writing these AHHH. anyway, i know i might have stretched the prompt a little bit since reader actually isn't in danger so bucky won't be "keeping them safe" but i used it loosely and imagines bucky is trying to exaggerate a little.

Words: 356

"You know," Bucky says conversationally after just witnessing you barge through the front door and into the apartment. You slam your stuff down onto the couch and look at him, calming down instantly in his presence. "I could keep you safe. They're all afraid of me."

"I don't need rescuing from my coworkers." You argue, opening your bag and pulling out your notebook and throwing it on the table in front of the couch. You sit down and stare at the empty page. You have to write a report for your boss and since your computer broke this is what you have to work with.

"I'm just saying, they're all scared. I could just… Waltz in there," Bucky starts, sitting next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder, "And show them that nobody messes with my doll."

"Your doll, huh?" You ask, smirking. "I belong to you now, is that right?"

"Hmm.. Maybe a little," He jokes, lenaing forward and kisses him gently. He pulls back and looks at you seriously. "Actually, though. If you need me, I'm here. I can get them to stop screwing around and actually do their job so your boss stops throwing it all at you."

"I love you." You say. Bucky huffs and kisses the corner of your mouth.

"You gonna let me?"

"No." You say gently. He groans and leans back against the back of the couch.

"I hate seeing you upset." He admits. You frown and sigh.

"They're gonna be off the job soon, anyway. I promise, it's fine." You say, smiling gently. Bucky thinks for a minute his tongue slightly poking out of his lips and you smile at the sight.

"Fine. The offer is always up for grabs though. All I gotta do is pull this baby out," He says, patting his left arm, "And we're all set."

"My knight." You joke. He laughs and leans forward, kissing you again. "I gotta get this done."

"I'll make dinner." Bucky says, standing up. "But when it's done you have to stop working and eat with me!"

"Got it." You say, laughing. "Thank you."

"'Course, doll."

[yanverse]

I have to see my husband, show me Yuri. Please.

bbg i GOT chu husband incoming <33 i present to you my yuri magnum opus !!

"Mr. Maeda"

(cws: gn pronouns, work meet cute, office romance, a bit of petty theft, work-inappropriate kisses, obsessive & overprotective behavior, yuri's a lil secret creep)

wc: 3.3k

Here it is. The starting point of the rest of your life. You worried it might be some big, huge corporate building that you'd sooner get lost in than find your way to the office written on your little sheet of paper, but it was small enough to fit its two-story self smack dab on the corner of the avenue. Easy to access, walkable from where you just moved…and still terrifying. This was the only place that would hire you and the first job you'd had that was actually in your field, so to screw this up would ruin years of potential prospects if you ever decided to move upwards and onwards. There was a whole lot riding on this, but all you could do was swallow those doubts and keep your chin up as you pushed through the door and took your first step into the future. 

Ting-ing. A bell chimed overhead to signal your arrival, all other noise from the street growing muffled as the door closed behind you. It was…elegant. Even for an interior decorating office, it seemed lavish. The floors were shiny with fresh wax and the furniture was all arranged so delicately you wouldn't even want to sit, the waiting room off to your left and a showroom to your right while a long hallway extended past the front desk on the far side of the wall. It was all decorated in deep red and white tones for the most part along with some other complementary hues, all save for the bored-looking young woman at the desk who wore a baby-blue top and torn jeans. If nothing else, at least the dress code seemed pleasantly loose. 

"H..." You squeaked out your greeting like a shy mouse as you approached her, her eyes stuck to the pages of a book that laid open by her keyboard. “..H-Hello.”

"Yuri's by appointment only, please book online."

Her instructions came out as bland and monotone as you could ever imagine, a business card with the URL slapped down on the upper counter of her desk to stare right back at you. She hadn't peeled her eyes away from her reading for even a second, but when she did, it was because you'd cleared your throat and mustered up the courage to say that you were actually here for the job. 

"Here for the–oh!" The mere sight of you had her flipping her novel shut and getting up from her seat, her hand stuck out to greet yours as a look of embarrassment overtook her features. "I'm so sorry, I thought you were–e-er, never mind. Welcome! I'm Angel." 

Despite her relatively gentle appearance, the squeeze of her hand was strong–you had little space to dwell on those minor details though, as she briskly skirted around her desk to wave you towards the hall. "I'll take you back to meet Yuri, right this way." 

Clack. Clack. Clack. It wasn't her flats but your polished shoes clicking loudly on the tile, echoing your nerves in the silence that was only peppered by the distant hum of computers and occasional chatter. You'd no idea exactly how many agents worked here, just that it was a small agency. Less people to impress, but more intense scrutiny if you happened to disappoint them with your skills….or lack thereof. God, please let your heart stop beating so loud. Angel reached for a door near the very end of the corridor and you took a deep breath, one that was probably noticeable since she reassured you with a look and a curt smile as it opened. 

"Yuri! Your protégé is here," Her grin grew wider as you balked at her introduction, she patted your shoulder in parting and slipped away as you forced yourself through the doorway and into the brightly-lit office crammed with desks. Chairs had been tucked in tight to allow more room to manoeuvre since it was oddly cramped, but that was mostly because nobody sat in them; your coworkers either leaned against the desks or by the huge bay windows letting in the midday sun, and each and every one of their heads turned to face you once you took a step into their domain. Not one of them commanded your attention like he did, though. 

"Oh, please, Angel. Try not to embarrass me, would you?" His voice, airy and smooth, reached you where you stood and nearly buckled your knees before you even got a glimpse of him. The assembly that loosely surrounded him made way for his lithe frame to step around the furniture and head towards you, smiles creeping across their faces and whispers exchanged between them–it almost distracted you long enough not to look up once he finally stood in front of you. 

Oh no.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Ah…" His eyes darted down from your feet to roam their way back up to your eyes in a single pass, so brief you might've thought it never even happened. "...A real pleasure, my sweet." Yuri's cool, soft hands clamped around yours in a gentle handshake, though he barely moved it and rather just held you there like he needed an excuse to stare longer. 

Oh, god. Your boss is too attractive to get anything done. 

"Y-You too, sir. I've really been looking forward to this." You tried not to stutter out your answer, though Yuri seemed endeared nonetheless and urged you to forget the honours, his grip just barely brushing you once more as he finally managed to drop your hand. 

"Let's…oh, what was I saying?" He blinked with an absent gaze, attention fixated on something over your shoulder before he came back down to earth. A quick glance in your peripheral betrayed nothing of note, aside from your own hair. But to think anything of that would be odd, and far be it from you to put your foot in your mouth in front of a boss that actually seemed to like you. "Oh! Right, right–why don't I show you around? We'll get you settled in a minute, but I'll give you a tour first." 

He extended an arm out elegantly towards the office, your new coworkers clamouring to get their introductions in to the fresh meat in their presence–yet in all the time he spent showing you around, Yuri didn't seem to take his eyes off you for more than a moment or two. 

Which was either a terrible omen of things to come, or a very, very good sign. 

The first three days of a new job were usually the most difficult, but a week had passed now and you could swear the hard part just wasn't coming. Every task you'd been given had been a breeze, and with no real assignments yet since you were still in the learning phase, you were practically getting paid to sit around, experiment with your room designs in the decorator software, and chat with your coworkers in between group lunches and the occasional outing to visit potential clients. 

The man that had now established himself as your boss was nothing at all like what you expected. Sure, your expectations were certainly lower after your last job plummeted you into financial hell and mental anguish, but you expected the top agent of the city's biggest interior design conglomerate to be somewhat prudish, egotistical, and impossible to please.

But Yuri Maeda was nearly the complete opposite of that. He was by no means lackadaisical, and he did carry a certain air of class about him in the way he walked and talked, but he was not at all like other bosses you'd worked for before. He remembered your name when you walked in the door, and he welcomed you with open arms. He was kind to you and spoke gently of your mistakes, and no matter what, he'd never raised his voice or talked down to anyone about anything. 

And he was so, so easy on the eyes. His age showed in nothing but his white hair and even that was more of a fashion statement than anything else–you wouldn't assume a man that barely crested 30 would be so rife with grays under normal circumstances. He didn't even dress like a boss; he'd foregone a suit and tie in exchange for loose, flowing clothing, his shirt hung low to show off his pronounced collarbones while his pants hugged tight to his hips and accentuated those long legs that just kept on going. You'd once asked about his background, and the way his face lit up at the chance to talk about his infancy in Morocco and adolescence in Japan had been the highlight of your day, no doubt. You'd rarely seen such a professional and well-bred man talk so excitedly of his roots while brewing you some coffee and pulling out old photos of his home countries. It was an almost childlike interest, and it endeared him to you even more if that was even possible. 

Yuri had a strange habit, however. At first you thought you were getting hazed by the frequency with which your office supplies was going missing, but soon you started noticing that whatever item you had lost would magically appear in Yuri's hands. You'd caught him with your pencil behind his ear, your colourful paperclips attached to his files, once you could've sworn that someone had taken a sip from the drink you'd left on your desk, though there was no way for you to prove that was even the case. 

Whatever was going on with that, it took a backseat to the unbelievably good treatment you were getting at the office. You couldn't make yourself mess this up on purpose–you had to try as hard as you ever had to make this work and make it last. Where else were you going to get such a nice boss that called you cute nicknames and bought you lunch on a whim? 

But soon came the day that you'd been scheduled to help your first client. You'd been excited leading up to it, eagerly absorbing every ounce of advice that Yuri provided as you prepared to flex your skills.

When you came back to the office in tears, however, that dream had clearly been shattered. Angel at the front desk could barely catch you before you dashed into the bathroom to hide, and even when she followed you in to see what was the matter she herself couldn't believe her ears.

“They hated it,” You sniffled from within the stall, your feet pulled up to press your knees to your chest as if the echoes of your sobs off the walls wasn't enough to tell that you were there. 

“Hated what?”

“Everything! They hated the colours, and my d-designs, they said they were terrible–the worst they've ever seen! They made fun of me!” You sobbed, the events of the morning sending fresh pains into your heart as you heard your own voice repeating them. Angel heaved a sigh from the other side of the bathroom door.

“I'm getting Yuri. Hold on.” 

“No, please, I–I can't let him see me like this, I-” Despite your pleas, the sounds of Angel's shoes pattering away left you feeling defeated, and you slumped your head between your knees. The shame and embarrassment of having such confidence, only to have it ruined in one fell swoop, felt like too much to bear. You wanted to run and hide forever, dig a hole deep enough and jump in. 

You wanted to quit, but you couldn't bear it if Yuri fired you–and after several minutes, hearing a sudden barrage of shouting that sounded like his voice outside the bathroom, you had a feeling that was exactly what was coming. You knew it was too good to be true. Deep down Yuri desired perfection, and you were not that–not even close enough to have tried. 

Just when you started to consider slipping out of the bathroom and facing the music rather than stay inside and keep sobbing pathetically, the door creaked open. Taut footsteps hesitantly stepped inside, and by the soft breathing, you knew exactly who it was. He rapped gently on the stall door with his knuckles. It took you a moment to slide off the closed lid of the toilet seat, the lock jiggling loudly in the eerie quiet as you slowly opened the door.

At first glance, he looked flushed and out of sorts. His hair was mussed, and his breathing was uneven. He had his inhaler in the hand at his side, but whether he had taken a puff or not already, you couldn't tell. The silence, save for that, was painful. 

Unsure of what to say, you looked back at him as he did the same to you. Your eyes were puffy and your cheeks tearstained and still wet, while his chest heaved hard enough that the quiet was finally broken decidedly by a click, and then a deep inhale of breath as he pressed his inhaler to his mouth. 

“Mr. Maeda? Are you…okay?” 

“How many times…” He trailed off, only to cough slightly into his arm, and take another deep puff of his medicine. With that, his lungs finally seemed to clear, and he could take deeper, longer breaths while slipping the inhaler into his pocket. “...I told you, don't have to call me that.”

“You're my boss.”

“I'm also your friend.”

“...Am I fired?” Your question twisted itself out, because it was inevitable to come off your lips, but it was so soft and meek you felt shameful yourself just asking it. Yuri shook his head.

“No, no you're not–you’re not fired, sweetheart. You're invaluable to my team. You're not going anywhere.” He seemed convinced beyond belief, but you weren't quite there yet. Despite his earnestness, despite his friendliness and charm that was distinctly Yuri, you couldn't quite bring yourself to trust that you were really that special in his eyes.

“Th-They hated my designs,” You sniffled, and brought your fingers up to smudge the tears that ran fresh down your cheek. You couldn't yet bring yourself to meet his eyes. “All of them. They said they were worthless, Yuri. They didn't like them.”

“I know.” He shook his head again, a twinge of something fierce coming over his expression. “They were wrong. Just so you know, I told them so over the phone.” He looked a bit sheepish, quietly rubbing the back of his neck. So that must have been the yelling you heard…

“Wh-What? Yuri, they were part of a big account, their main client-” 

“Listen, sweetheart.” He leaned in suddenly, using his height to his advantage as he loomed over you. Not in a menacing way, but more…almost protective, in a sense. “They were worthless. Don't think about them anymore. They weren't worth your designs, nor your time.”

It shocked you to hear him speak so callously of a client, when he had always shown nothing but utmost professionalism in dealing with even the most snobbish of customers. It seemed like there was almost a shift inside him, like something had snapped to make him shout those people down over the phone, and now had him nearly cornering you in the stall as he got closer and closer to you. Only your wide, nervous eyes managed to snap him out of his trance, and at your trembling he stepped back and brushed some hair out of his face as he cleared his throat. 

“You…value my professional opinion, don't you?”

You nodded with little hesitation, yet a lump in your throat forced you to swallow. “Yes, of–of course, Yuri.” 

“Then believe me when I say that you are far better than you think. You're smart, and very talented, and…kind, and…very, very lovely. You're a treasure to work with. I…” Even though he trailed off, his true intentions glimmered in those clear, pale eyes. “...I want you to forget everything they said to you, everything that made you cry today. They are but a speck on your life–not worth the slightest mention.”

You opened your mouth to protest on instinct; why did you deserve to feel better about it at all? Surely you must've done something wrong. You can't imagine your meager skills being worth such praise. But something was telling you that this was far deeper than the surface level of work, and Yuri just about confirmed it as he cut you off before you could get down on yourself further. 

“Believe me,” He took your cheeks into his soft, sweet-smelling hands, and brushed a stray tear away with his thumb. The gesture, as gentle as it was, almost brought you to more tears with how touching it was. “People that behave in such an…uncouth way don't deserve your attention. They don't deserve your love. Your affection. Your…” 

Only then did you realize how close Yuri's lips had drifted to yours. Your mouths were nearly closing in on each other, and but for any resistance on your part he would make no move to stop what was happening. This was not in your job description. 

But would you really stop him from kissing you when that's all you had fantasized of until now? A small, shy smile slowly made its way across your lips, and Yuri's followed soon after as he smoothly leaned in to claim a warm, firm kiss, with a more eager introduction to his tongue than you anticipated. 

A moment passed, then another, and in what seemed like ages but at the same time only a second he broke it off, his expression aghast–perhaps at realizing what he'd just done. Probably realizing that it was a terrible, terrible mistake. You stood meekly and on the cusp of a panicked fit as he brought the back of his hand to his lips, but soon the warmth in his cheeks tipped you off to what was truly stirring in his heart. 

“That was…unprofessional. I didn't mean to-”

“I-It's okay, Yuri-”

“-Not in the bathroom, gods.” He seemed preoccupied, your words barely registering. He ran his fingers back through his soft, white strands of hair and took on a look of sheepish delight. “You deserve better than that. Come, let's–to my office, let's go.” He ushered you out of the stall, his grip firm on your wrist like he was too nervous to try and hold your hand. 

“Yuri?” You called out, but he seemed in a daze. His breath was catching on every inhale like he was drowning in excitement, yet he was holding himself together just barely in your presence. He wouldn't make much eye contact with you, but when you did spot that look in his eyes…it seemed like he was in the midst of a calm frenzy, his exterior composed but his mind and heart all stirred up, roused, jumbled into a mess of feelings that he was trying desperately not to get lost in. He tilted his body away from you too, as if trying not to let you see him front-facing as if he had something he was nervously hiding. 

“T-Take these,” He suddenly piped up, and thrusted a set of delicate keys into your palm while he turned completely away from you. It was all he could not to just hide his flushed face completely in his hands. “Go wait in my office, I'll–I just need a moment to compose myself. Please.” Yuri whined, and at his behest you agreed and stepped out of the bathroom to give him some privacy. Hearing the lock click behind you made you a bit nervous, but as you made your way out and down the hall you fiddled with the keys and thought about all that Yuri had said. 

…What a strange, alluring boss he was indeed. But even so, even now, you wouldn't know even half of what Yuri was really capable of, nor what he had been planning for you since the day you walked into the office and captured his heart in your soft, beautiful hands.